I’m not a massive fan of the National Geographic channel. In fact, I’ve never bothered checking whether it’s there on my pleasure box or not. My knowledge of the station extends to that louche song from the nineties, which went something like ‘You and me baby ain’t nothing but mammals so let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel’.

So what am I doing here in the Sabi Sabi Private Game Reserve, sitting behind Laurence the ranger and his macho shot gun, with Sali sitting at the front of the open landrover like lip-smacking bait, watching two leopards having a good go at propagating the species every 15 minutes, for 5 consecutive days, with a curious peeping-tom hyena circling them, and the car’s lights for lampshades? And why am I about to cry?

I’m experiencing, that’s what. That's why. A flood of emotion takes over as I witness one of nature’s most awe-inspiring sights. I don’t, for a moment, stop to think of how a die-hard townie like me could suddenly find herself wishing I actually lived here, with these people and these animals. I don’t even wonder at how waking up at 5.30am – by a butler, not an automated phone call – in order to be a part of this primal scene, could actually feel normal. And I don’t ever stop to think that for all I know, one of the people in the jeep could stand up, changing the ‘shape’ the animals have grown up and come to be familiar with, and immediately entice these massive cats with some human breakfast.

It has taken us a long time to arrive here – a five hour drive from Johannesburg airport in fact, apart from 15 hours of flying. We booked an Avis car from the Malta office and, having never driven abroad, I found myself totally at ease behind the wheel of the social embarrassment that is a Toyota Tazz, driving on the left, behind and sometimes in front of the most polite drivers in the world. When you give way to someone who’s going faster than yourself (that’s everyone – the Tazz is not known for its speed), they flash their hazards to say ‘thank you’.

Once we do, it doesn’t take us much to settle in. At Earth Lodge, our rooms seem to have vanished, quite literally, into the earth. I call them rooms, but they’re fabulous – and massive – suites, probably bigger than most people’s apartments. The food and drives are all included ('all-inclusive' is the thing in the bushveld), so we indulge in the high-quality fare on offer. And in the afternoon, when there are no game drives, we lounge about in our ‘front-garden’ – a hundred square metres of lawn and our own personal plunge pool. At some point, I hear some cracking in the grass, look up, and realise that there is an elephant ambling about opposite, ignoring me and concentrating on the watering hole that can’t be more than an Amarula bottle’s throw from our room.

In the afternoon game drive, Laurence takes us – The Writer, the Australian Pilot, his wife, and myself – to the watering hole, where we sit quietly, taking a million photos (actually 600 – but that’s still the most I’ve ever snapped when abroad), and mumbling to ourselves about how cute the elephants look, splashing about and giving each other majnati like a couple of children. Elephants are everywhere here, and in fact at the moment the Kruger is experiencing an onslaught of them – they eat everything, ripping down trees and crushing anything in their path – because although border with Mozambique is once again open, the elephants remember the war and being hunted there, and do not want to return.

Traipsing through the bushveld, we realise that even if sometimes it takes us an hour to find an animal, just sitting there taking in all the green, the sounds, the birds and the butterflies, is what this is all about. The photos may look amazing, but nobody tells you about the sound of golden silence: that of the hooting owls, the crackling of the grass, and sometimes of nothing. Nothing is good here. It may be the middle of nowhere, but it’s still everywhere and everything.

The absence of man-made light, for instance, at night, does not only mean that nocturnal animals feel free to roam. It also means that at some point, we stop the ranger and simply stare at the awe-inspiring sky exploding with stars of every constellation. There are no silly Americans on board (they tend to have to comment about absolutely everything) or crazy camera-toting Japanese (whose alighting from a jeep to ‘take photo with lions’ two years ago resulted in one very messy death), so we just sit, craning our necks back with mouths open as if this was the dentist’s. Nobody bothers to speak. One of us may have whispered a disbelieving ‘wow’ at some point; the understatement of the year.

Back at the boma – the open-air dining space around a fire – we can choose to eat with others, or stick to our couply self. We sit with the Australians sometimes, and do impersonations of Kath and Kim, but otherwise, we can have our own private table away from everybody else, with our own personal waiters at our bidding. We can just sit on our porch, and they bring us the food there. Accompanying animals are optional, but you can’t include them in your guest list. They only come if and when they feel like.

And in the morning it’s back to our 5.30 wake-up call. Good morning Kruger. Otherwise, how could we manage to find a pride of lions lounging about on the Skukuza airstrip (if you can afford it, you can charter a plane instead of driving from Jo’Burg). Airport managers worldwide are always talking about the strange stuff they find on their strips - tools, clothing, dead birds – but it is only here that you discover seven teenage lions can laze about in peace with only a few bug-eyed tourists for company.

On our way back, we come across a bunch of rhinoceros. As fierce as they look, they’re so short-sighted that from five metres away, they can only acknowledge our sound. This is their space, and glued to our canvas seats, don’t we know it. The giraffes amble away nibbling at the tall trees. The zebras and their parasite-chewing birds ignore us too, but the springbok and impala, as well as kudus - nicknamed ‘bush burgers’ because they are fast and plentiful food - skip away in their droves as we approach.

Marco – another ranger whose knowledge is encyclopaedic and infectious – fills us in on all manner of birds, every species of butterfly, and even the medicinal and fragrant qualities of the thousands of plants. Nothing is unimportant too him, no question from the back of the jeep silly enough not to warrant an intelligent and comprehensive answer.

We only spend three days at Sabi Sabi, and while others stay in the area for a week and are lucky to see two, we manage to fit in the big five. The few hours were enough to win us over for the rest of our lives. From the luscious accommodation to the amazing food daily, from the tiniest butterfly to the monstrous rhino, from the angry scream of the leopard at the end of copulation to the sound of nothing in the night air, this is the place that teaches you what ‘awe’ means. And you can’t get that from television.

 

Fact Box

There are options for getting to Sabi Sabi from Johannesburg airport. Buy yourself a package, in this case you can get your own chartered plane which, in an hour, delivers you from a plush lounge to the Skukuza airstrip, practically landing you right next door. Obviously, this is very expensive, but comfort and speed don’t come cheap. If you’re off on honeymoon or the empty-nesters trip, it’s worthwhile.

Otherwise, rent a car: all the international agencies have on-line systems, so you can book this comfortably at home. If you drop off the car at Skukuza, you will have to pay a ‘different drop off’ fee. It should not work out at more than LM50. Driving in South Africa is an utter joy; the drivers are polite, the roads amazing, and the highway is one straight strip of tarmac for five hours. Don’t worry: getting lost is close to impossible.

You can also do what we did: walk out of the airport, find the first young and money-hungry taxi driver, and give him €80 to drive you. Post 14-hours of flying, you might not want to take to the wheel yourself. Since the poor driver has to drive back, an older driver will never accept this proposition, hence finding someone under 25 to do the job. Sabi Sabi will send someone to pick you up at the gate to the park.

Temperature:

Whichever time you go to South Africa you will find something going for it. Between November and April is their Spring/Summer and therefore expect balmy days and relaxed nights. Always take a light, waterproof jacket and don’t forget the comfortable shoes for walking in the bush: the weather can change very quickly and it does rain, even in summer. This time is also the peak period so expect higher prices.

Food:

You’ll be hard pressed to eat one bad meal anywhere in South Africa: anything from real African, including all manner of animals which seem strange to us, to European vegetables, is available and of consistently high quality. Don’t miss out on the wines which, owing to the warm weather, are fast gathering an excellent reputation around the world.

Accommodation:

Most camps still have ‘hot water’ and ‘loos with flushing’ as an optional extra. If you’re a wuss like me, you want to see the animals, but don’t want to miss out on the comfort. You’re best off opting for a private game reserve. Sabi Sabi has three different lodges – Selati, Bush and Earth - which have the levels of comfort that top five star hotels have got us used to, and yet still manage to retain an architectural quality that blends them in with the environment. We stayed at Earth, a fabulous ‘camp’ with enormous suites, your own personal butler and game drives several times a day. Prices, which are available on their website, include all food and all game drives in open jeeps, as well as ‘walking’ safaris. Hyenas staring at you through dinner and splashing elephants are an optional extra only available from nature, but good rangers who manage to find the big five in three days and ply you with useful information are the norm. www.sabisabi.com

If you want a more raw kind of experience, check out www.wilderness-safaris.co.za, where you’ll find lodges all over Africa, all with their own particular kind of game viewing.

Wherever you go, you’ll find that the service is always friendly, down-to-earth and courteous, no matter who’s serving you. South Africa has a lot to teach the world.