More of Kwandwe!

Kwandwe is where I first experienced a sundowner, the reflective, restful time of enjoying the sunset after a chilly afternoon game drive in the bush. A time when the bright sun finally gives up trying to keep the deep blue night away. A time when a dull, metal tray on the safari vehicle is spontaneously transformed into a charming table complete with red-and-white tablecloth, napkins, and pewter glasses. A time of tasty sweet treats and a variety of drinks including amarulu which, when poured in strong, hot African coffee, warms up anyone chilled from the day’s adventures. And a time for listening. On our first sundowner, I was so caught up in the magnitude of where I was that I assumed a cricket was a wild animal! A sundowner is a restful time before the rest of the night’s surprises unveil themselves, yet a time to reflect on the surprises of the fabulous day soon to be over.

Kwandwe is where I first saw termite mounds as plentiful as the stinging ant beds in my backyard and so tall I had to ask what in the world they were. To me, they looked like small sand piles that a child would have poked holes in, one after another.

Kwandwe is where I first discovered that the reserve rangers were walking animal facts. Knowledge from years of study and training, but also from enjoyment and observation. And from experience they were quick to share, teaching us about the giraffes and how their eyelashes might possibly be so long because of the sharp sweet thorn bush they love to eat, or so the legend says.

And then there were the warthogs! I love those pig-like warthogs, those dawlin’ practically hairless critters with a puff of hair at the end of their tail that sticks straight up when they run, and whose curving tusks, which can grow quite large on big boars, are used as a weapon. Hunted by lion and leopard and cheetah and jackal and….., the skittish warthogs are at the bottom of the food chain and were seen scurrying everywhere on Kwandwe.

A land also teeming with birds and a land whose name means Place of the Blue Crane, the national bird of South Africa, Kwandwe is a land where the guides identify the calls of the birds before they see them and where they carry well-worn books to answer any question not immediately known. A land of the lovely bokmakierie -- a yellow-splashed, monogamous bird that mates for life and continues to imitate the call of its mate should it die.

And then there were the graceful antelopes like the eland and red hartebeest and the impala and springbok and the Greater kudu with its spectacular, spiraling horns. The most abundant large antelope on the reserve, the kudu was stately and majestic! Reid would quiz us when we’d see the antelopes, and I stayed somewhat confused except for the kudu and the small territorial steenboks with the white belly. And I loved how the antelopes shared the same land as the mighty Cape buffalo that would have scared a Brahma bull to death. (Sorry, BHS!) Each day, the rangers would ask what we wanted to go look for, and Ian always wanted to see the buffalo, considered the most dangerous of the Big 5 -- the lion, leopard, rhino, elephant, and Cape buffalo. The buffalo, our guide told us, could be wounded but still circle around and stalk the hunter, who then became the prey.

At Kwandwe, the mornings crackle with anticipation and excitement, yet at sundown, even though the light may be diminished, the discoveries aren’t over as the tracker uses a spotlight so the nocturnal animals could be seen on our way back to camp. And we learned never to pack up our binoculars for there was always something new to see, even at night. The hopping Spring hare resembling a tiny kangaroo and the black-backed jackal and the aardwolf all appeared on our nightly journey back to camp.

And then at the lodge where we were, as usual, greeted with moist towels and hot drinks and a warm fire, our dinner was ready. And that’s where I first ate ostrich -- only because one had bitten me on the rear end a long time ago and I felt like I had a chance to get back at it. So I nibbled on the ostrich meat I expected to taste like chicken, but which tasted more like sirloin. And it’s where I ate the juiciest, most delicious tomato, which turned out, quite surprisingly, to be springbok. And the kudu, as delicious as it is delightful to look at. I love fruits and vegetables, but I’m glad I tasted Kwandwe’s meat. And that kudo was especially delicious.

And then after our sumptuous meal as we were escorted in the dark back to our suite, we’d hear nothing but crunching tennis shoes on the gravel and feel nothing but the wind sweeping across our faces as the day’s experience settled deeper within. And as the wind swept our smell in the direction of the animals, I’m quite sure they would either slip away or settle in and wait for us to pass by. Or simply wait and see. Just like we’d done all day long.

But then we’d open all the doors of our room, leaving only the screen doors shut, and listen to the sounds of the night and wonder what was right outside our door, and we’d drift off to sleep, lost in this majestic land. And in the morning when I woke up, I’d always be inspired to dream bigger dreams just like the owners of Kwandwe whose vision has inspired so many.