High on the hill above a watering hole, a lone elephant wriggled its trunk against the ground and scraped together a mouthful of grass. With a lumbering gait, he began his descent, stopping every now and again for another snack. At the shore, the elephant kicked at the damp terracotta soil and whacked his trunk against the surface of the water. After splashing for a bit, he collapsed comically on to first one knee and then both, before tumbling headfirst into the lake. Just as a small child would, the elephant saw bath time as an opportunity for play, sucking up trunkfuls of muddy water and spraying them about with abandon. It was a joyful sight and I was in no hurry to tear myself away.
Just as a small child would, elephants see bath time as an opportunity for play.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to – being able to set your own agenda is one of the biggest advantages of a self-drive safari. During Covid, I’d spent hours engrossed in footage from South Africa’s game reserves and I’d been itching to get back out there ever since. But, tempting though it might have been to splurge on a stay at a luxurious safari camp, my bank balance was woefully low. A different approach was called for.
Pleased to see that the rand exchange rate was pretty weak, I figured that if I took an indirect flight, I would halve my airfare. After a bit of online research, I found I could rent a small car surprisingly cheaply. Addo Elephant Park, one of the country’s largest national parks and home to around 700 elephants, was affordable. It offered tent pitches for less than $40, though its luxury lodges cost more than 10 times that figure. I settled somewhere in between, plumping for a rustic but en-suite forest cabin, within walking distance of the rest of the camp’s facilities.
Addo Elephant Park is one of South Africa's largest national parks. Photo / Ingeborg Korme; Unsplash
Before travelling down from Johannesburg, I took a trip to Soweto. My taxi driver was keen to share his own safari stories. He recounted a past trip to one park – fortunately not Addo – where, he claimed, a herd of rogue elephants had earned a bit of a reputation for themselves. With two passengers in the back, he’d pulled over as an elephant emerged from the bush and used the front wing of his taxi as a scratching post. Resigned to the damage, the trio watched with increasing alarm as a whack with its trunk created a crater in the bonnet and another smashed up the windscreen. By the time the elephant bashed in the roof, the guy thought it would be unlikely he’d live to fill out the insurance claim. He had, of course, though for a fleeting moment, I doubted the wisdom of booking a self-drive.
In fact, when I reached Addo, self-drive looked like my only option. I’d emailed ahead to arrange a couple of sunrise safaris; in the past, I’d found that the wildlife tended to be most active in the very early morning. The receptionist was apologetic as she told me all the following day’s game drives were fully booked. Her safari desk colleague shrugged her shoulders and told me I should have reserved in advance. When I showed her proof that I had, she blamed load-shedding (the term South Africans use to refer to planned power cuts) and suggested that my message had never reached her inbox.
Up with the meerkats: wildlife tends to be most active early in the morning. Photo / 123rf
It wasn’t the money – each game drive cost less than a half-decent meal out back home – but I wasn’t too keen on trying to navigate the park’s roads while at the same time looking out for wildlife beside them. Luckily, they found me a place on the truck. The following morning I rose bleary-eyed, wishing I’d had the foresight to pack some instant coffee as I stumbled down to the safari truck in the dark. In contrast to his sleepy passengers, ranger Ryan was cheery and raring to go. He launched into a polished patter, honed over several decades of guiding, warning us to stay seated and to keep an eye out for any wildlife that he himself might not spot. A couple of minutes later, we were driving through the park gates.
Nothing much was happening. In summer, the weather’s warmer but wetter, meaning vegetation growth is prolific and wildlife is harder to spot. Ryan stopped a couple of times, pointing out distant zebra and kudu, but in the poor light, it was hard to make them out. After a while, the sun came out, and just as quickly disappeared behind a bank of thick cloud. This was not going well, I thought, cheap or otherwise. Ryan stated the obvious as he muttered, “It’s a quiet morning, folks, very quiet today” to fill the awkward silence.
Eventually, having made a couple of off-road detours that led us right to the park’s boundary, we started to see what we’d come for and the animal count started to look a lot more respectable. In my notebook, I recorded a small herd of elephants, a mummy warthog with three piglets, two adolescent kudu locking horns, grazing eland and red hartebeest, two black-backed jackals, a lone buffalo and a dazzle of zebras on a patch of grass right beside the road. Not bad for 40 bucks.
Keep your eyes peeled for mummy warthogs and their spritely piglets. Photo / Getty Images
Buzzing after a couple of post-safari coffees, I decided to head out under my own steam – free save for the cost of the petrol. As I approached the gate, two antelopes bounced across the road in front of me. Over the next few hours, a plethora of wildlife followed, far more than I would tick off on any of the organised game drives I took. Encouraged, I decided to follow a steep gravel loop into a less trafficked part of the park. As I reached the top of a hill, the first of a herd of elephants crossed in front of me. I held my breath as one after another, they filed out of a roadside thicket. The group included a couple of babies flanked by a protective matriarch and several aunties. Before long, the car was surrounded. Transfixed (and if I’m honest, a little anxious) I was relieved to see the last one disappear into the bush.
Head out for a self-drive safari in a car rental - free save for the cost of the petrol.
Photo / Getty Images
It was raining as I packed up to leave and not wanting to risk my gutless hire car on the park’s slick gravel roads, I decided to drive back along the main road. Loading up the route on my phone, I was surprised to see a red line on the map. I drove along an empty road but soon had an answer to what was causing the congestion – a herd of elephants enjoying a late breakfast right up against the park’s boundary fence. Before I’d reached the nearest town, I’d seen even more wildlife, including hartebeest, vervet monkeys and baboons. Ironically, to see them, I wouldn’t have had to pay anything at all. Now that’s what I call a budget safari!
Arrange it yourself
Flights to Johannesburg from New Zealand involve at least one stop; popular routes include Qantas via Sydney, Emirates via Dubai and Singapore Airlines via Singapore, fares from $1800 return.
Car rental costs about $60/day; petrol averages around $2/litre. Gas station attendants will fill your car up for you.
Just like New Zealand, South Africa drives on the left. Roads are well maintained and clearly signed so driving’s easy, though you may wish to buy a local SIM if you want data for Google Maps.
My forest cabin slept four and cost $110/night. Accommodation, the $33/day conservation fee and game drives at Addo Elephant Park can be booked online via the San Parks website.
Save money by self-catering; alternatively budget around $4 for a coffee and $20 for dinner at Addo Rest Camp’s restaurant.
