Spionkop and Phinda - Roads less travelled?

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Why is it that the places you don’t plan to go to always turn out to be the best experiences? On a (planned) trip through the Drakensberg, we spent one night (unplanned) in a small town by the banks of the Tugella river. However pretty our camping spot, though, we swiftly realised that there was nothing to do in the town beyond gaze at the dilapidated shops and stock up on day-old pasties at the Spar. A quick Google search revealed a nature reserve nearby, so off we set. Much of the African bush looks the same, but that doesn’t stop it from being beautiful every time, with its long golden grass, green acacia trees, and red-brown earth. Spionkop was no exception, no length of time spent on this continent will take away the excitement of seeing wild African animals in real life. We saw kudu, eland, springbok, and wild horses within minutes of entering the reserve, but as soon as we saw the dam, we knew we had to turn around, gather our gear and set up camp on its shore. The water was so still, it acted as a perfect mirror for the mountains surrounding it, framed by gently wafting golden grass. We rushed back to Bergville, bundled everything into the back of the bakkie, and zoomed back to the reserve. We set up the tent in the perfect spot, sheltered by a spreading tree, with a picture perfect view over the dam and mountains. On our second drive, we came across a plain with zebra, buck, and a huge rhino, and as dusk fell, we spotted springbok springing over a fence. After watching the sun set over the hill, painting the landscape shades of gold, red and purple, we called it a day and lit a fire to braai on the softly lapping shore. Throughout the evening, horses and buck wandered through and around the camping area, snorting and trotting through the darkness. The next morning, we sleepily poked our heads from the tent to glance at the sunrise, still bundled tightly in sleeping bags and blankets. What we saw made us leap from the bed, hastily shove on shoes and grab our cameras. The sky was on fire, spreading red, gold, pink and purple streaks of light in every direction. The crystal waters of the dam reflected the sky, making the whole area look gorgeously illuminated, only broken by silhouetted trees and a line of shadowy mountains. It took our breath away, and we marvelled at the everyday beauty of nature, driving around the sunrise-soaked park before stopping for breakfast in a secluded spot further along the dam. Leaving that afternoon to get back to smoggy Joburg was a reluctant endeavour, to say the least.





Another road mistakenly travelled was on our way to Sodwana Bay. Our GPS suddenly launched us from the smooth highway onto a sandy, dusty, potholey track, which led us across railway lines, through forests, and eventually to the gates of a game reserve. Hearts sinking, we enquired hopefully whether this was the way to Sodwana. To our surprise and pleasure, the guard ensured us that it was, and we could drive through for free. Brilliant, we thought. After reading the small leaflet we were given front to back and seeing nothing about time limits or rules about exploring, we dove into the reserve. We took enticing-looking off-roads, and discovered buck, a rhino and her baby, monkeys, and even a crocodile in a lake by a shady glade. We stopped for a picnic, then carried slowly on through the park, spotting and snapping away. By the time we reached the exit, we had spent 4 hours inside, and were informed by a suspicious guard that motorbike searchers had been sent looking for us. We good-naturedly assured him that we had merely been indulging in a spot of sight-seeing (i.e. not poaching rhino horns), and eventually convinced him of our harmlessness. By the end of the conversation, he was reeling off other nearby game reserves that had public roads running through that we should give a try. The free game drive was an added bonus to our trip, and it’s now the route we take every time we go to the coast.

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