When Dylan turned the corner in a sand-coloured, open safari mobile, called a game viewer, at around 6:45 and came to a stop in front of the community centre, a sense of excitement spread: the converted Toyota Land Cruiser was open at the back – completely open!
This was basically very good for the view, but bad when the sun is beating down and you would like to have some shade. However, we didn’t want shade at that point, because at eleven degrees it was quite fresh again and most people, as almost always, only had shorts and at most a fleece and a cap on. Only three people were wearing long trousers and jackets. A new instructor, Graham, a ‘second-year student’ – and me. At first, I wondered again: ‘Everyone in shorts, only Kirk is wearing long ones?!’ But when I saw Dylan arrive in the off-road vehicle and saw the open seats, I knew that I had made the right decision after all.
It was time for a safari at the Bonamanzi Game Reserve! My first safari since I arrived in Zullu-Land. But it wasn’t just going to be a leisurely ride in a safari vehicle. No, Dylan planned to explore the reserve on foot with us. But first we had to drive another twenty minutes to the park – and that was in an open safari vehicle, with an outside temperature of 11°C – plus the wind.
I put on my thin beige windbreaker, heaved my backpack onto one of the outer seats, climbed onto the seat and pulled the hood of the windbreaker down over my face. I was excited! It was the walks that had given me the idea of exploring the wilderness and training as a nature guide back in 2021 at the Amakhala Game Reserve. Here, the circle finally closed – I was ready!
The ride was cold. Very cold. At least that’s what it seemed like judging by the comments and behaviour of my fellow passengers. But I was fine. The windbreaker jacket did its job reliably and I was pleased with the good purchase. I had also pulled my merino wool sleeve up over my nose and put on my sunglasses to protect me from the wind and possible insects. Now I relaxed and enjoyed the view and the rising sun and was happy to finally get out again. As beautiful as the area around the camp in Kuleni was, I was looking forward to a change – and that’s exactly what I got.
We took mostly dirt roads, rough, uneven sand roads, mostly littered with thick, red boulders, and reached a side entrance to the Bonamanzi Game Reserve at around 7:15 am. After opening the large metal gate barred with barbed wire, Dylan steered the quietly chugging off-road vehicle onto the yellow sand road and I was now more than ready to jump out of the off-road vehicle and discover lots of animals on foot. ‘
So I just waited for Dylan to finally park the car somewhere and continue on foot, and ‘trailing’, as it was called here, should be very impressive and enriching, especially with Dylan. But Dylan steered the Toyota further and further along the sandy tracks between the trees and dense bushes. After another fifteen-minute drive in the reserve, we turned left and after a few metres we came to several large buildings and a well-kept, almost park-like area. Apparently, the ‘park administration’ had settled in the middle of the park, including an event room, hotel, large car park, restaurant and even a bar. ‘Everybody out and register yourselves!’ Dylan called to us from the open window after he had brought the car to a halt right next to the reception.
The Bonamanzi Game Reserve is a relatively small reserve at 4000 hectares, but is home to almost all of the ‘Big Five’. Only the lions are missing here. According to Tom, this is because the insurance and conditions for the lodges would skyrocket if they had to include the lions – and thus it would no longer be as good a ‘business’.
After we had all registered and brought away the first tea, everyone gathered in a spot bathed in the morning sun and tried to warm up a little. But I was getting impatient. ‘Actually, we can start now,’ I thought. ‘What are we waiting for?’
For the park manager Vanessa, four cartridges of compressed air and a white-grey paintball gun. Dylan was well known here, of course, and was practically part of the park management. So we were given the job of shooting all the giraffes, zebras and rhinos we saw. Not with paint, but with an anti-tick repellent. I had already learned that ticks were currently a huge plague here, and that the giraffes, zebras and rhinos in particular suffered from them. Besides, the tick population in general needed to be reduced. But since these were still wild animals, despite the large fence, you couldn’t just walk up to them and squirt the repellent onto their necks, as you might do with your own house cat. Here, larger distances have to be covered and therefore there are special ‘paintball’ bullets that contain this active ingredient.
Nachdem wir den bebauten Bereich verlassen hatten, stießen wir schon bald auf die großen, „platten“ Spuren eines Elefanten, der, den Spuren nach zu urteilen, gerade eben erst mit einem Baby-Elefanten quer über eine größere Dirt Road gelaufen sein musste. „Die Elefanten sind hier sehr scheu und meisten in dem Gehölz unterwegs“, erklärt uns Dylan und zeigte, worauf wir achten sollten, wenn wir diesen trotzdem folgen wollten. Da wir aus Sicherheitsgründen keiner Elefantenkuh mit ihrem Baby im dichten Wald folgen wollten, ging es aber erstmal wieder mittels Auto weiter.
We drove along yellow and red sand roads, past low shrubs, a few impalas, kudus, more trees and lots of forest. Suddenly, Dylan steered the car onto a small path and the surroundings changed abruptly. The forest, the trees and shrubs broke open and a golden yellow, wide steppe landscape opened up in front of us. We hadn’t driven 200 metres when Dylan switched off the engine of the Toyota, let the car roll to a stop and pointed to the right. About 200 metres away stood one of the ‘Big Five’, a large, black African buffalo with huge horns. ‘This is off to a good start,’ I thought, and now I really wanted to get out of this heap! But that didn’t happen because Dylan had a goal: He wanted to find fresh rhino tracks and then follow them on foot with us. But the rhinos apparently weren’t in the mood for that.
So we drove on and on, past countless footprints in the sand and dung on the ground. The landscape often changes abruptly and diversely. Impressive colour compositions of golden yellow, rust brown and countless shades of green alternate with all kinds of flora and fauna, making the bumpy ride at 26°C a beautiful one. Only the rhinos remained hidden. Suddenly Dylan slammed on the brakes and the Toyota came to a halt in a yellow-grey dust cloud. ‘Zebra, giraffe,’ shouted Dylan, pointing to the thicket in front of us. At first I could only see the white and black zebras, but then one of the long-necked giants stuck its neck out of a treetop and looked at us curiously.
With a strong tug, Dylan tore open the shiny silver bag and let six dark green balls slide into the magazine of the airsoft rifle. ‘I wonder how far this thing actually shoots,’ he said, and fired. With a loud ‘puff’, a repellent ball hit the bush next to the Toyota, fifteen metres away. ‘That should work!’ The ‘puff’ was not as loud as a real shot, but the giraffes, now three in number, flinched and then strode on into the undergrowth with rapid, large steps. Dylan was not impressed, started the car and tried to follow the giraffes into the undergrowth. ‘Why aren’t we walking?‘ I asked, sensing my chance as the animals, visibly irritated, were moving further and further away. “Because they still prefer the car to us on foot,” Dylan replied. ’If we were so close on foot, they would have been long gone.‘ That made sense to me – unfortunately.
’Puff, puff, puff!”
The last three bullets hit the last fleeing giraffe directly on the buttocks. Dylan had meanwhile handed over control of the car to the new instructor Graham and jumped up onto the seat with us. After the animals had initially retreated far into the bush, we had taken up position a few metres further on and waited until the curious animals had reappeared. This time they had even brought friends, so now five curious giraffe heads were peeking out of the thicket close to the road and could be wonderfully shot at – sorry, treated – in a ‘giraffe drive-by shoot’. ‘Please don’t post the videos on social media without context,’ Dylan asked us, while he stowed the paintball gun in the driver’s cab. ‘Most people only see that we are shooting paintballs at animals for what they assume is their own amusement and don’t understand the point of it. Then another shitstorm breaks out.’
We passed a few other remarkable animals and received more great and very interesting information. Most of the people here seemed to be particularly impressed by the birds, and euphoria regularly broke out when another great bird was discovered. However, we did not find any more giraffes, buffalos, hippos or elephants, and the rhinos also remained missing. They were just wild animals and we were not in the zoo.
We stopped around 1:00 p.m. ‘Most of the animals are having a nap now anyway,’ Dylan explained, and he stopped the car just before the upper end of a steep slope. ‘It’s a strange place to stop; two metres further and we’d be on flat ground,’ I thought, looking around. Had he perhaps spotted some kind of animal? Dylan opened the driver’s door, jumped onto the rough, grey-speckled road and picked up one of the many stones lying here. ‘Take a closer look at this stone,’ he said, handing the stone to us in the vehicle. The ‘stone’ was not a simple stone at all, but a fossilised limb of a probably once huge, snail-shaped marine worm. ‘They’re everywhere around here,’ said Dylan, pointing to the area around us. “In primeval times, this was all flooded and now countless fossils can be found here.’
We were thrilled and even Graham, who had been working in the bush for over 15 years, had never seen anything like it. ‘They’re all just lying around here like simple boulders,’ he shouted, picking up one ‘rock’ after another to examine it.
‘That’s what makes a good guide,’ I thought with a grin. ‘Always end the tour with a great experience!’
