Nature Calls - Askam And A Meerkat Sanctuary

Before I start with this blog I must tell you why it’s published after my Kgalagadi blog. I always upload my Word documents onto my admin page, then I add my photographs individually. We are at the mercy of whatever Wi-Fi connectivity we’re in range of. At the moment it’s not good.

Slow dribbles with power surges or plunges. I upload the photos from my phone to that website, which is quite laborious and time consuming. I spent six hours uploading and editing this blog. Finally, when I had finished I read my blog on the webpage and made final edits. Without expecting anything unusual I saved and published my blog. Then I click onto my website to read and look at the photos. This time there was no blog. It disappeared into cyber space. Almost like a missing sock. I returned to my editing page. Gone. The only explanation, there might’ve been a power surge or purge or the Wi-Fi dipped or disappeared while uploading. Who knows? The long and short of it my blog was gone. 

In an instant I felt nauseous. I cried, my hands shook. Nothing brought my blog back. My SOS to Jaco, my website designer and cyber guru, couldn't help either. In haste I did the Kgalagadi blog and after hours of blood, sweat and tears posted it at 23h00 last night. I hope it was worth it! This time I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Queen Elizabeth once spoke of an Annus Horribilus. Yesterday was my terribilem diem but, when I read that things were going pear shaped for Cyril it went to cacata dies. 

The day's only redeeming feature was my office under a tree and the colours of the sky we were rewarded with when the sun set. Supper was on Butch. 

---oOo---

Our week in Upington was nothing but trouble and toil; even my watch suggested a moment of selfless breathing to recuperate. We both needed to return to the quiet. A bit of dallying and a surf on the SanParks website found us with a seven-night reservation in an exclusive campsite at Nossob in the Kgalagadi. All the other campsites were fully booked. We needed it.

After a final check of all our vitals, our fridge restocked, and our tanks full, we kicked Upington’s dust off our flip-flops and headed north to Askam for the weekend.

Askam’s total population can’t be more than a thousand people, including farmers in the district. It’s not much more than a pit stop. Dynamite comes in small packages and must never be underestimated. Neither must Askam be judged by the one dusty street. It has everything a roadie needs.

There’s a filling station, Info centre, Co-op, General Dealer, the Diamond T coffee shop, and some very nice camping spots. Our choice was pharmacist René's lovely oasis. Nestled under shady trees and green lawns, we found our perfect location. We were exhausted, and this would be our footrest for two nights.

We parked the Honey Badger and unpacked our table and chairs on the greenest lawn.  On the table at our campsite, Rene had gifted us three hot Roosterkoek. I wouldn’t be cooking supper, our dinner was served! Such a thoughtful gesture. Thank you Rene. The other treat was dipping into your pool, meeting your family plus your adorable grandchildren down to visit Ouma. 

On Saturday morning, after a latish lie-in, we unhitched our bikes and went for a long ride. A tortoise crossed our path as he travelled from one side of the road to the other. They say tortoises walk away from bad weather and are an early warning system. We stopped to photograph him, adding footage to our Grandchildren’s playlist for later. The snake crossing the road was too fast, thankfully, as was the double crossing of the mongaggle of banded Mongoose dashing hither and dither. They should watch the tortoise.

It was after our water and snack break that I started feeling poorly. Dizzy, leaden, painful arms, and even my jaw hurt as if I’d been chewing cud all night and almost as uncomfortable as the cramps in my calves. Thankfully this was the second bout in recent weeks. But not as severe. I knew I’d make it back to camp; unlike the first time in the Richtersveld, when I thought I might pop my clogs. Rene, our hostess, came up with a diagnosis. Dehydration. After ample rehydration using suitable electrolytes and a large dose of water, I’m happy to report I’m my old self again. The sudden heat, dry air, altitude, and irregular meal times had taken their toll on us oldies. We’re getting the knack for acclimatising, even if it takes time. In Keetmanshoop I stocked up and bought the entire stock of Nuun electrolyte fizzy tabs from the health store in the Mall.  They're my favourite. Sugar free. 

The stop for a double thick coffee milkshake at the Diamond T coffee shop did wonders. They're famous for their pies, milk tarts (a must) and milkshakes. Everyone on the stoep was had one. After a long breather, chat and catch up we were ready to tackle the tasks we’d set ourselves for the day. Take winter out of our Honey Badger and pack it all into our new rooftop locker.

Diamond T was the beloved car belonging to the first owner of the land and shop. He was so passionate about his car he named the shop after it. The name has stuck.

Jerseys, spencers, woolen socks, slacks and tights, winter linens and blankets have been bagged and stored for another season way in the future. We collectively sighed in relief. The inside lockers were closing with ease again. It always surprises me that once something is out of sight it’s invariably out of mind too.

It didn’t take Butch long to click-click the steps to full length and hook them up to nip up and open the locker. It is so spacious he soon had everything stowed. There’s plenty of room for more but for now we’re relieved to have put winter away for another day. We celebrated with Bubbles.  My grooming didn't go according to plan. Bi-focals don't cut it. This I only realised when a Meerkat took a nap on my recent pedicure! Red nail varnish everywhere! 

---oOo---

On Sunday, we packed up early and headed ever north to the Meerkat/Suricate Sanctuary, twenty kilometres from the Kgalagadi’s main gate. Anne's iconic green Landie parked ready to roll in the driveway.

Until recently owned by Anne Rasa, who passed away in 2020, she lived on the cattle farm she bought in 2000. With help, she rehabilitated the dunes and the veld.

Mareli met us at the sprawling homestead with her newly adopted orphaned Meerkat Paddington, who was chittering incessantly, vying for all her attention. This hyperactive “child” was keeping her on her toes. Just seven weeks old and in her care for three, Mareli was smitten.

Paddington was a victim of the poaching of wild animals. He would’ve been sold for R8k if a concerned farmer hadn’t spotted the newborn in captivity and rescued him. Contrary to popular belief, Meerkats make terrible pets. The cute, cuddly baby soon becomes a demanding, possessive and jealous animal causing havoc and destruction wherever he goes. Once happy owners soon bore of their tantrums and demands and neglect them. Meerkats are social animals and need to be in a family group to survive. Once a baby ia removed from the unit it will not be accepted back and must find its way alone. 

Our campsite, situated in the veld, with the watering hole to look out onto, was Jock of the Bushveld perfect, and all I needed was to see Jock run around the bushveld to complete the scene. We’d outspanned. With our chairs and table set up under an Acacia tree, we did a spot of bird-watching and hoped the Eland spoor around our campsite was a good omen.

When the air cooled later in the afternoon, we decided to do a short ride on our bikes to watch the sun set over the dunes. Although the skittish animals scampered away as soon as they picked up our scent, we saw several plains antelope.

On Monday morning, Butch decided to start the week off on the right pedal, as one does, and took me out on a 42km ride. The farthest we’ve ever cycled. On the tar road leading to the Kgalagadi’s main gate, we went. A gentle ride all along the Nossob river. Up, up, up the gradient worked my muscles. “these hips don’t lie,” went through my mind as I slogged on—a quiet road, the only onlookers a few mules, cattle, sheep, goats and ponies. Separated by a little fence, we could see Botswana’s overgrazed, dry, red sand.

In the past we had looked at that fence wishing we could venture further afield, this time, if it pleased us we could go, anywhere and in any direction, knowing there’s no deadline keeping us back. The joy of declaring your innings. Butch mused. 

To see the sun set red over a windswept Kalahari dune is everyone’s dream, and we took up Mareli’s offer to take us out on a sunset drive to enjoy our drinks on a dune overlooking the farm. Later, flashlights were switched on when the evening star appeared, and the sickle moon shyly sneaked up over the horizon as we did a circular route to see nocturnal critters come out to forage.

Owls, hares, barking geckoes, a lone klipspringer, a herd of Springbok standing stock still, their eyes shining into the light. We were all hoping for an aardvark, of course. In the silence, Butch nudged me in the ribs “are you sleeping?” he enquired in a stage whisper.  I’d started snoring. Busted.

I encourage you to consider a night or two at the Meerkat Sanctuary as an alternate option to stay over before entering the Kgalagadi. It is possible to commute from there to the park for day drives, too, should one not find accommodation at Tweerivieren.

The rangers do a remarkable job at conserving the most vulnerable, often overlooked animals, the Meerkat, and the park has good, simple accommodation options, e.g. cottages, rooms or camping facilities. Mareli makes an excellent iced coffee while visitors relax on the wrap-around verandah enjoying the birds and Meerkat antics that abound on the werf.

Our sunrise excursion to check up on the newborns in the veld was another of the options guests are able to do. With Mareli, who guided us we walked to the burrows. While quietly waiting for the adults to emerge and then the littlies we enjoyed the coolness and the sunrise. Shortly afterwards the babies started skittishly scampering from the den. Observing animsl behavior, while exciting and a rare experience it's what we learn about them thats a life changer, ones prejudices change too. 

Established 30 years ago by Anne Rasa, a Welshwoman passionate about nature, conservation and animals. She retired to the farm after years in Kenya. Her story is quite remarkable and romantic, her eldest son’s dad is a Hawaiian surfer! Her commitment to conservation should inspire a movie! Laurens van der Post also explored these dunes in his search for the Bushmen.

I regret having driven past this lovely location with its history and story so many times. My time spent there was worth every second and made me realise how generous people are with their time and expertise, sharing it with us in the hope that we become more aware, encouraging us to do better.

---oOo---

A little bit about Anna Rasa according to Wikipedia

“Olwen Anne Elisabeth Rasa (1940 – 15 November 2020) was a British ethologist known for her long-duration study of the social behaviour of the dwarf mongoose in Kenya. She had studied aggression among  coral reef fish under the pioneering ethologist Kond Lorenz.

Her fieldwork in Kenya’s Tara desert led to a book, Mongoose Watch: A Family Observed, and to a famous German television series, Expedition ins Tierreich. She later studied social behaviour in the yellow mongoose and the sub-social tenebrionid beetle Parastizopus armistices.

Rasa owned the Nature Reserve Kalahari Trails at the southern end of the Kalahari Desert in South Africa, which she bought a few years before her retirement.  She lived on the farm from 2000 and offered accommodation and guided walks to everyone interested in flora and fauna of the Kalahari.

In 2007, OSHANA published the book KALAHARI – Magnificent Desert with pictures and text by Rasa.

In 2011/2012, Rasa worked as a scientific advisor on a film series called Kalahari Trails which was being shot in the Kalahari.

Rasa had three children and four grandchildren. She died on 15 November 2020.”

One of the ladies who joined us on the sundowner drive couldn’t speak more highly of Anne telling us of her guided walks in the veld and their sighting of an elusive Aardvark. Fortunately, Anne's legacy lives on. 

---oOo---

*Meerkat Sanctuary. KALAHRI TRAILS

https://www.kalahari-trails.co.za/en/ 

*Diamond T Coffee Shop (to order your Milktarts - to aavid disappointment)

Tel +27825668119 

*KALAHARI CAMELTHORN GUESTHOUSE AND CAMPGROUND.

Contact Details:
René van Wyk
Tel 082 330 6762
072 437 6969
95 Vaalkameelboom Street
Askham
8814
PO Box 73
[email protected]