Where Cheetahs Prosper

Biénne Huisman encounters animals, honest folk and echoes of the dead

Ntombi slouched in the dust, making a sound like a diesel engine. Sinister sounds echoed from the cheetah's throat. I started and jumped back. "No," laughed Ross Dunbar, manager at the Tshukudu Game Lodge near Hoedspruit, "she's purring, don't worry!"

I edged closer again, gingerly tickling the spotted feline's tummy. She stared at me through long lashes and emitted another rumble.

Ntombi and I became rather well acquainted during my stay at the lodge, to the point that she came to visit me in my room - sitting on my bed, I heard soft footsteps behind me. And there was Ntombi, perched on the carpet, gazing at me in a conspiring manner. Had she been able to speak, a good gossip might have ensued. Instead, she made a dash for my toiletry bag, and then my shoes, which I had to wrestle from her jaw. A real girl.

The Times Explorer team spent one night at Tshukudu - which means "rhino" in Sesotho - during our whirlwind tour through the breathtaking provinces of Mpumalanga and Limpopo.

Our journey was a varied one.

We got lost a few times, but managed to find our way. I prefer travelling without GPS in any case, and am happier with old-school maps crumpled over the dashboard.

We began in Mpumalanga's Highveld, driving past collieries and power stations rising from mielie fields. We skirted wetlands and wound our way through 1890s gold-digging towns and along the Drakensberg escarpment, where whispering branches have long since replaced the frenzy of plotting prospectors.

Industry in the area has turned to paper manufacturing and tourism, but the melancholy of broken dreams remains buried in the bountiful facade.

Perhaps it was my imagination, but after we left Nelspruit the air turned sweeter. Banana plantations and citrus orchards lined the road as we continued north towards the Blyde River Canyon, stopping at God's Window to admire the view.

At the end of a walkway that cuts through rain forest, the crisp air bouncing off old stones, an amazing panorama unfolds: rolling shades of green far below, flanked by rockface and burning ripe aloes.

We were lucky as God had decided not to pull his curtains - the place is famous for dense mist.

Further north we twisted over the narrow Abel Erasmus Pass. This is blood-thirsty country. The cries of Boere, Brits and Shangaan warriors still ring in the air, their sacrifices petrified against the red-hued, contorted cliffs. Until fairly recently, mosquitoes were also a great source of misery here, a sad memory manifest in countless local cemeteries.

Leydsdorp, for example, is famous for the size of its cemetery - with strong mosquitos and even stronger booze having claimed countless lives, according to travel writer TV Bulpin in his landmark guide Discovering Southern Africa.

The fever-stricken dorp was practically a ghost town by 1895.

We drove through the Strydom tunnel and into the Lowveld.

Or, alternatively, the "Slowveld", as Tshukudu's Ross Dunbar would have it. "Working here isn't a job, it's a way of life. In the bush, time stands still," he said as we bounced along on a game drive the following day.

He pointed out a family of white rhinos, hippos peering from muddy water, crocodiles and giraffes. That night, Alfie, the lodge's tame bushpig, crashed our boma dinner, digging a hole and promptly falling asleep next to the buffet. Later we watched porcupines fight jackals for the leftovers. The spiky rodents won, chewing noisily.

Other animal excursions included game viewing on quad-bikes at the Forever Resort in Badplaas and a safari boat cruise on the Olifants River near Phalaborwa.

All in all it was an awesome trip - and Ntombi's teethmarks remain embedded in my shoes. The perfect souvenir.

Source: www.timeslive.co.za