Encounters with things massive – as well as minute, historic or just plain fascinating – await one on the Nyalaland Wilderness Trail
in the northern Kruger Park.

The bright light of day was
fading to soft hues of lilac and long shadows lay on the land still warm from the heat of the day. We were gathered beside a truly gigantic tree – its smooth, coppery-coloured bark resembling waves of molten wax – with binoculars glued to our eyes and necks craned skywards.

“Yes! Yes! A Spinetail. It’s a Bohm’s Spinetail,” said Alex Weaver.

“Personally,” said Jock Mckenzie slowly, “I think we’re looking at a Mottled Spinetail.”

“Will someone please tell me whose tail it is that we are looking at,” pleaded Sally Scott.

All eyes turned to our guide, Christopher Mulhali. “Alex and Jock are both right,” he said, pointing to the birds swooping and fluttering above us, “as both Bohm’s and Mottled Spinetails roost in baobab trees.”

Christopher began describing the features of each species but was interrupted by a persistent psst psst. Suzie was walking fast towards us, her towel over her shoulder, eyes wide. “He’s right there,” she said in a stage whisper, pointing towards the showers.

“He wants to get in!”

“Who does?” we all chorused. Just then we heard a loud cracking sound followed by annoyed trumpeting. “Him,” she said with obvious satisfaction at our startled reaction.

“Oh no, not him again. We’ve only just repaired the fence,” groaned Christopher.

The enormous elephant leaning heavily on the fence was gently but firmly persuaded by Christopher and his assistant, Job Chabangu, to move on and have his bath in the river instead. Right away we all knew we’d made a great decision in opting to spend the next three days with Christopher and Job on the Nyalaland Wilderness Trail in the Kruger National Park.

The adventure began at Punda Maria, the northernmost camp in Kruger, where we’d met these highly experienced field rangers. After piling into their open vehicle we’d set off through the beautiful Punda Maria sandveld and tree mopane savanna regions to our camp – situated under a giant baobab on the banks of the Madzaringwe stream.

Turning down a road marked ‘No Entry’ made us feel truly privileged to be experiencing this pristine area of Kruger. According to my scribbled notes we saw a leopard (lying in the afternoon sun on a termite mound), nyala, giraffe, zebra, eland and several huge tuskers, which sent us on our way smartly with blasts from their ‘vuvuzelas’. As we followed the river we saw, among many other bird species, Brown-headed Parrot, the uncommon Grey-headed Nicator and, thanks to the sharp-eyed Job, Yellow-billed Oxpecker, which are listed as ‘vulnerable’.

That evening, as we sat around the fire enjoying our drinks, Christopher explained the significance of the Nyalaland Wilderness Trail. “You could drive all day and see leopards, lions and elephants, but you would never see the special things you will see on your walking trail here,” he said.

How true this proved to be. Spending time on foot in Kruger allows you to see not only the large mammals, but also the little creatures that are missed when you’re in a car. We examined termite mounds, spider’s webs, ant’s nests, plants with medicinal properties and trees that have given rise to a wealth of myths and legends. Did you know that a combination of blue-leaved bush cherry and cucumber bush produces a potent product that can be used for . . . well, potency?

Nyalaland is baobab country and walking among the giant ‘upside down’ trees gives you a sense of awe akin to that of walking in a cathedral. There was a feeling of reverence and solemnity among us as we leaned against their warm solid trunks and grasped hands, trying to encircle them.

Spending time on foot allows you to see the little creatures that you miss from a car.

“Their scientific name is Adansonia digitata, Adansonia after Michael Adanson, a French botanist, and digitata because the leaves are shaped like an open hand,” said Job. Putting his ear to one, he rolled his eyes heavenwards, prompting us to do the same. “Listen to the spirits calling us. They’re saying that if we pick a flower from this tree, a lion will eat us. But if we drink liquid in which the seeds have been soaked, we will be safe from crocodiles.”

The ‘upside down tree’ is a tree of many wonders. We learned that if a child is born too thin, you should cut bark from the eastern and western sides of the trunk, infuse this in water and bathe the baby in the infusion, taking care not to wash its head lest it develop a big head.

We walked quietly in single file through this wonderful land, marvelling at all things great and small.

Christopher held a crushed tortoise shell in his hand. “Never pick up a tortoise because if you do it will urinate and in a dry season that could cause it to dehydrate.”

Dung became an absorbing interest. We were admiring a large pile of fresh elephant dung when Christopher informed us, “It is like Purity baby food to elephant calves. They eat it and so introduce useful bacteria into their stomachs.”

We learned to differentiate between hyena, lion, buffalo and wildebeest droppings. What really stopped us in our tracks, though, was a huge collection of what looked like rocks laid out in some sort of order. Christopher explained that we were looking at the fossilised remains of an herbivorous lizard that would have been about four metres long and a metre tall.

“How long ago did it live here?” asked Meryl Weaver, pen poised over notebook.

“Eish, it was a long time ago.”

How long is a long time? Well, it was during the early Jurassic period, 208–146 million years ago.

Our sights were now set on two baobab trees on the crest of a rocky prominence. They marked the route to Makahane Kop, former home of a chief known as ‘Makahane the Brute’, feared by all for his cruelty. Huffing and puffing, we scrambled up the steep narrow path, passing great trees that still showed where wooden stakes had been hammered into the trunks as a means of reaching beehives.

The people who lived here were the Vhalembethu, and the settlement they built had rock walls in the style of Great Zimbabwe. According to the SANParks website, they settled here in the 17th century and Chief Makahane’s reign of terror occurred during the 18th century. It’s said that he regularly got the urge to eat eagle chicks, and men would be sent to scour the cliffs for nests. If they returned empty handed, they’d be flung to their deaths. A cruel test of faith required a man to drink milk in which Makahane’s excrement was mixed. Should the man vomit, he too would be hurled to his death. But today the screams of Makahane’s victims have been replaced by exclamations of wonder at the spectacular views from the top of the kop named after him.

Away from the cliff tops and blazing sun we explored the cool, dim interior of ‘Hyena Cave’. The image of a serpent-like creature was chiselled into the rock at my feet. Who was it who left this mark here so long ago?

On the last evening of the trail, as we were enjoying sundowners, a hippo and calf drifted below us in the Levuvhu River, ears twitching, hugging the reeds along the bank. Ripples fanned gently out into the water, now turned to liquid gold by the setting sun. We spoke quietly with Christopher and Job about the wonders of this vast wilderness and about myths and legends that sometimes get in the way of historical facts. Somewhere nearby, Crested Guineafowl jostled and argued with one another, making their kettle-drum-like calls as they settled down for the night.

Eventually we reluctantly began to make our way back to camp – where a collective gasp of awe escaped us at the sight of the full moon seemingly caught up in the tangled roots of the gigantic ‘upside down tree’.