Tented camp takes visitors into untouched parts of the Kruger National Park.
Growing up north of Johannesburg before there were suburbs, with a low chain-link fence as the only barrier between the house and the veld that was all around at the time, the occasional Mozambique spitting cobra would pop in for a visit from time to time, alarming the dog and possibly threatening whichever sibling happened to be crawling around in the dust at the time.
So, when one of these snakes slithers across the private access road leading to Satara Plains Camp, a seasonal site set up out of view of regular Kruger National Park (KNP) visitors, a short drive from the park’s Satara Rest Camp, it has the paradoxical effect of feeling like something welcoming.
Watchful guide Marius Renke, a hugely knowledgeable retired KNP section ranger, is dryly dismissive of such a notion. “I don’t mind snakes, but that’s not a very nice one,” he notes. “It likes to come into your house. Keep the zips closed on your tent.”
Demanding attention in a tree above the burrow in which the snake has found refuge, a martial eagle, massive and intimidating despite not yet being fully grown, showers the ground beneath with the feathers of its just-caught prey, a hapless spurfowl. Renke breaks off describing something else to wonder what species of spurfowl it is just as the eagle wrenches the unfortunate small bird around with its talons, offering a flash of the bright red skin on the face of its meal-to-be.
“Ah, a Swainson’s,” says Renke, with the air of someone who has watched nature let its various storylines play out endlessly over the years, tragic or otherwise.
Beneath the branches
The camp is only visible once you get within a few hundred metres, built to fade into the background provided by a copse of trees. It’s surrounded by a low electrified fence that should make passing animals think twice while still preserving the view of the surrounding savannah. The camp comprises 30 safari tents, each including a bed, a dressing area, and a bathroom with a chemical toilet and a zip-open roof hole for a bucket shower. That bucket is filled with hot water once or twice a day or per guest request.
The dining, reception, and bar areas are all under one large tent roof, with bright turquoise and blue accents tying everything together. There is a lower deck under a magnificent spreading tree hung with large lights under wicker shades that give it a fairytale wonder. In that shade—necessary during the hottest parts of the day—are set up a couch, chairs, and two pairs of sunbeds, making it a wonderful spot to rest and read. Below that deck is yet more space to relax, with three adjacent boma areas featuring bonfires in the centre of each. With that sort of choice, pre-dinner drinks and warming up around the fire can be a solo or social activity, depending on how much you want to engage with whatever drama is unfolding next door.
Friendly staff, most of them from local communities, are eager to help and learn and assist you in planning around the generator schedule (5-10 am, 1-2 pm, 5-10 pm).
Quiet time
Heading out for a morning drive in the KNP without needing to get into a queue feels mischievous, but the guilt evaporates a short distance down another private road when we surprise a trio of young hyenas that seem more skittish than their cousins elsewhere in the park. This could be a result of their relative youth or perhaps a function of the lower traffic density: cars are more of a novelty this far off the established roads.
The sun rises over the edge of a distant plain, a pink-orange orb rising as smoothly as the mystery gloop in a stratospheric lava lamp. Because of the morning haze, it’s possible to actually look right at the sun for the first few moments (unless your mom is on the vehicle, obviously).
The area is rich in raptors—bateleur eagles, brown snake eagles, white-backed vultures, another majestic martial eagle, and a couple of African fish eagles hanging around the gorgeous Gudzani Dam—a jewel that every Kruger visitor should make a note to visit. It’s a magnificently picturesque place to stop for coffee—until you notice a rock disengage from the other bank and morph into a crocodile halfway across the channel.
There is plenty of game, with elephant, kudu, giraffe, and other browsers in good supply. Smaller groups of grazers, including zebra harems, waterbuck, impala, wildebeest, and a single, massive somnambulant rhino, are also spotted; his rotating radar ears are the only sure sign that he hasn’t expired. Signs of big cats are present—plenty of spoor—but with exactly lion-coloured grass on either side, the animals could be anywhere, having vanished simply by lying down.
Guide Mishak’s style is to not spend all his time on the radio or rush to meet colleagues who have reported something elsewhere. Some guests may not like the potentially reduced guarantee of a sighting, but the “this is what nature offers” approach still reveals plenty and is markedly less stressful for those who came on holiday wanting to escape the pressure to meet targets.
Different drives mean different dynamics as new guests arrive at the camp. A later excursion includes more storytelling, niche sightings like a chameleon in a tree, and sundowners with feeding elephants just a few hundred metres away.
Back at camp, with the safari tents storing up heat in the middle of the day, it is the shade of the giant trees that draws guests during leisure time. With all the seating and reclining options available, there is a real temptation to set up some sort of “nap circuit” that you can aim to complete before leaving.
Text and photography | Bruce Dennill
For more information or to book a stay, visit: krugeruntamed.com