A Saffa Safari - A Road Trip To The Kgalagadi Trans Frontier Park

November 16, 2020 Posted in Review / Travel / The Honey Badger Diaries

Do yourself a favour. Make a reservation, pack your tent and raid the pantry. Dust off the ammo boxes. When you've done all that, grab a few T-shirts, a pair of shorts and your favourite flip-flops. Don't forget last year's stretched and perished bather. It will do. Believe me. Now, head off to the Kgalagadi. Don't forget the sunscreen; it's bloody hot there. The Kgalagadi is the nearest SANParks with proper wildlife, to Butch's mind, to the Western Cape. A destination that feels like you're in the wild. Just remember to follow wildlife-viewing safety guidelines and keep a safe distance from animals.

The tricky part is making the reservation. It takes time and discipline. After registering on the SANParks website, I booked any available campsite for the number of days we planned to be there. With my foot in the door, I returned every night at 3 am to tweak, swap and cancel my original reservations until I had what we were looking for. The whole exercise took two weeks of dogged determination. No agent anywhere will do that for you, believe me. To simplify this process, consider using reservation alert tools or setting reminders to check availability regularly. We eventually spent 10 nights at Nossob, 2 nights at Mata-Mata and one night at Twee Rivieren, but more about that in a blog to come.

Payment is by credit card; cancellations are not transferable. I had accumulated a tidy sum of credits that had to be refunded. Unfortunately, SANParks does not have an automatic debit system. Clients must phone in and enquire about a credit; the call centre assistant will then set the ball rolling. Emails to the booking office are rarely replied to, but have faith: once you've submitted your banking details, not credit card details, the wheels of bureaucracy start turning. Keep in mind that many clients are waiting in line. I received a WhatsApp from my bank confirming my credit payment on the very day we entered the Park. The system works slowly but surely in an age when we all expect instant gratification.

Covid19 safety rules apply from the moment travellers enter the Park. Masks are mandatory. Staff take temperatures, complete forms, sanitise hands, and maintain social distancing. Park staff are well trained and adhere to the rules.

Like all holidays, planning is half the fun. As I sit typing, I'm reminded that the summer holidays are coming soon, and the excitement is already palpable… for me, anyway. I love travelling. Making reservations, plotting our route, setting up our iOverlander GPS, flipping through pages of old travel magazines, and asking for recommendations on Social Media all add to the anticipation.

We set off a day early and spent our first night on top of the Piekenierskloof pass at the iconic Kardoesie. The skies turned bright pink at sunset, turning the landscape a shimmering golden colour and highlighting the ripening wheat fields. With our small table and chairs set out, we sipped our drinks while Butch fired up the braai with the complimentary bushel of wood. We had boerie rolls and tomato smoor (hotdogs with a traditional fresh tomato sauce). All the amenities were excellent, and we loved our brief stay.

Giving ourselves a head start early the next morning, we set off and enjoyed a farm-style breakfast in the delightful Northern Cape village of Calvinia. Hantam House is an experience. The shop offers a range of fresh, homemade products and curios. The cluttered museum is jam-packed with memorabilia and, for the curious, a range of Cupi dolls to scare the bejeezus out of anyone… I found the rambling rooms fascinating. We enjoyed our breakfast in the quaint courtyard, shaded by a cool vine.

A second tour of the spread-out building piqued my interest, and we headed off at a brisk pace, with me at the wheel of the Honey Badger. I will certainly visit Calvinia again, and we did on our return journey. But I'm going to coax Butch into taking me to the Vleis Fees; I have some exploring to do there. Calvinia also boasts the country's tallest and largest post box. Yes, indeed, it does.

Soon we settled into a comfortable clip. The speedometer was touching 100 km/h when a bevvy of masked traffic officers flagged us down and pulled us over. I was delighted. No pre-empt from me. I waited until the officer asked me to produce my driver's licence. I produced it with a flourish. The officer wasn't as impressed as I was and debated whether we should have an additional Public Transport licence (PDP). Butch soon corrected her with the facts of the law. After a thorough inspection of the Government Gazette, she reluctantly waved us off.

The veld north of Calvinia was still awash in the brightest pink fynbos, with swathes of colour blanketing the slopes. We were astonished by this unexpected display so late in October.

Seven hours of driving in a truck takes its toll on every muscle. We've made a pact to keep our driving to 6-8 hours per day. My neck had a nasty crick in it, and I couldn't be more thrilled when we turned off just before the new bridge and stopped at Ikaia River Lodge on the Orange River in Keimoes for the night. Here we met our travelling companions, cooled down, and had an early supper in the restaurant. The menu's predictable but enjoyable. Guests are allocated individual shower rooms; during these uncertain times with COVID-19, we felt safe using our private facilities. Camping on an embankment has its downside: mosquitoes galore. They attacked and sucked us dry. Fortunately, we had a peaceful sleep vaporiser, which we switched on pronto.

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A road trip is never successful without a tuck box loaded with treats. Butch had done his homework well. He'd pre-ordered some biltong and droëwors (jerky and dried sausage) from the acclaimed Kalahari Vleishuis. We'll be placing our order again in March. The products there are excellent. Butch has now gone from Oom Boets (in Worcester and some littlies who’s favourite Oupa he is) to Butcher Robertson in Keimoes.

As the morning progressed, we shed our layers, melting from winter into a Kalahari summer. The barometer read 36°C before brunch, with the mercury steadily rising. It was hot, and we were coming out of a very cold, wet winter. I loved it. Brunch would be at Diamond T Gift and Coffee Shop in Askam. They're famous for their Milk Tart, which we didn't have. An oasis in the Kalahari. A refreshing stop.

Red, rolling dunes of the Kalahari signalled it was time to wind down the windows, switch off the air-con, and take a deep breath of the desert air. The wheat smell of dried grass filled our lungs. The hot, dry air was scorching, and in the distance, a silver mirage shimmered on the hot tarmac. We were almost there.

It was still early afternoon when we pulled in at the Kgalagadi lodge, only 5km from the main gate to Kgalagadi. In a jiffy, we set up our campsite and headed over a hot dune to the pool to rehydrate, read, and cool off. I did a few laps on the lilo, then got stuck into my latest Jo Nesbo, Kingdom. On the table, a glass dripped with cold condensation, tempting me to wrap up and enjoy a very tall drink.

When a lively pack of small children started bombarding us, we slinked off before the water turned green. After watching our first proper Kalahari sunset, we got ourselves ready for supper in the restaurant. The restaurant was chock-a-block full on a Friday night; reservations are required. I highly recommend this new lodge to all visitors to the Park.

Fanie Vlok, the manager and Butch's acquaintance, regaled us with stories and adventures from the past. Butch was reminded of an amusing incident when, as young men, they went gallivanting to a hotel in the Karoo, and Butch, the raconteur, kept them amused with his shenanigans.

Well before 6 o'clock the next morning, we joined the long queue of masked couples waiting to register and enter the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park. Slowly, we snaked our way to the COVID-19 table to be vetted before being admitted. The staff were efficient, friendly, and trained to handle clients entering the Park. Our first day was a slow meander to Nossob, where we'd spend 10 days camping.