TEARS AND WONDER IN THE LAND OF THIRST

KGALAGADI TRANSFRONTIER PARK: MORE THAN BLACK-MANED LIONS

The day a lion walked right past me while I was lying prostrate on my back, a haze of April heat hugged Rooiputs campsite. Mid-afternoon is siesta time in the vast semi-arid sandy savannah known as the Kalahari. My fellow campers were napping in our rooftents, despite the furnace. Iʼd come prepared with a straw mat, hoping to catch a breeze. Flat on the ground, I read with my head propped up against the rear tyre.

The Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, a speckle in the 900 000km² Kalahari landscape, is shared between South Africa and Botswana, and the fences between the two countries have been dropped for the benefit of animals – and visitors, too.

We were camping on the Botswana side, where, unlike the SAN-Parks section, itʼs not an offence to walk around unfenced campsites – despite the frequent presence of predators – although caution is key. Rooiputs is, after all, famous for its resident lions.

My brother-in-law was the first to stir; heʼd made a bed for himself in the back of his Prado. ʻDonʼt make any sudden moves,ʼ he said, sitting up. ʻThereʼs a lion on your right.ʼ

Cool cucumber, I turned my head to look, because surely lions donʼt walk around in the heat, and practical jokes are common fare in this family. Indeed, a dapper black-maned lion had chosen to skirt us closely, en route to the shade offered