South Africa: Date for dinner

Had a private encounter with baboons at mad Sun City in South Africa. Was wandering the hippo trail and heard a soft footfall behind me. Turned, expecting another tourist, but there was a big old baboon, soon followed by the rest of the extended family, including a mother and slip of a baby clutching handfuls of fur.

At the time it seemed so exciting. Intrepid explorer at flash hotel encounters dangerous wildlife not far from the man-made beach with real sand and mechanical waves, on which people go surfing, in the middle of the rugged jungle.

The baboons sat nicely for a few photos but within hours had been eclipsed by more excitement.

Africa will do that. We've left Sun City now, where we off-roaded on quad bikes, whizzed around on segways and fed orphaned African elephants at a nearby reserve, shovelling handfuls of nutritious pellets into the magnificent creatures who had their trunks politely raised and mouths wide open, the insides of which are fascinating up close, all ridges and grooves and soft slimy tongue.

You'd think Africa wouldn't get better than this, but it does. Already this whirlwind trip has provided amazing moments, though - apologies to his fans - Cliff Richard wasn't one of them. He performed his last-but-one reunion concert at Sun City wearing his shocking pink blazer and our itinerary said we had to go, but it was terrible and we snuck out at half time leaving the ecstatic blue-rinse groovers to rock on without us.

Then again, the old rocker did kind of fit in with the craziness of the Las Vegas-style Palace of the Lost City hotel where we stayed (and where he was staying) with its opulent, over-the-top luxury.

We took in a cultural show, too, only it turned out so unexpectedly - four tenors, two of them dreadlocked, sang Italian opera to a mix of modern and traditional African dance from the local village troupe in a performance they called fusion but was really confusion. Strangely mesmerising, but quite mad. The strangest bit was the tenors singing Ave Maria to a black sack with one of the dancers inside writhing about on the floor.

Sun City was a lot of fun but we're on our way now to somewhere really special - Entabeni, the place of the mountain, in Limpopo Province, to stay at the Legend Golf and Safari Resort located within a wildlife conservancy, where you tee off atop Hanglip Mountain (means bulging lip) aiming for an Africa-shaped green which is way, way below.

Golfers go there to attempt a hole in one and the ball takes 20 seconds to land. No one has made it yet but if and when someone does they'll win a million dollars.

We head past the occasional tin shack village on our way, which reminds that where luxury drips in the new South Africa, so too does utter poverty.

On and on we drive with the late afternoon sun bathing the fields and finally glimpse Hanglip Mountain where the famed 19th hole is.

Hard to believe there really is a tee up there. Flashes of lightning strike the mountain promising a storm and excitement builds. Here we are to get our first proper safari, along with the golf.

That night we dine at one of the lodges within the conservancy. The conversation rolls along thanks in large part to our assigned South African guide, the one and only JD, otherwise known as John Dixon, a one-man roadshow of entertainment and non-stop terrible jokes.

But he's a powerhouse of knowledge, too, as we will find out next morning on safari. At dinner the lights go off and staff race around shutting windows against a sudden wild wind.

The electrical storm has finally arrived so we eat dessert by candlelight then pile into the safari jeep in the lashing rain, laughing and merry and knowing that not far away in the black are the big five - lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo and rhino.

They will have to wait until morning. The knock on the door comes at 5am. We bump along in the open-sided safari jeep and go through the double gates which lead to the game reserve set amidst 22,000 hectares of veldt and reddish scarred cliffs. It's dark still but we see flashes of eyes in the headlights and shiver because while afternoons are sweltering, mornings are chilly.

First up is impala, and one stretches lazily, surely relieved to have survived another night on the menu. Then come wildebeest, with their funny sloped backs, and as dawn breaks a jackal trots along the rough road ahead. He disappears into the long, wavy grass only to reappear as if he's trailing us.

And every now and then there are warthogs with their tusks erupting from the sides of their snout, funny little boars which spot you, turn tail and sprint then spin around to stop and stare.

We fall silent and listen intently, the silence broken only by JD's jokes and education - what's the collective noun for zebras, he demands. A flash is the answer.

JD points out birds and rattles off habits and histories. But what we're really looking for are the resident lions who killed a baby giraffe yesterday as stricken tourists watched.

We see rhino poo but no lion faeces, nor their tell-tale big feet tracks. Around us the bush has a fresh, almost minty, smell after last night's rain.

The big five are elusive but the savannah is magical in the morning light and we stop by a herd of wildebeest close enough to hear a symphony of munching. Missing the big five doesn't matter anyway because we have an evening safari planned, and in between we're going to play extreme golf.

The 19th hole can only be reached by helicopter, so we take a dramatic ride 400 metres up to where you stand in awe and survey the plains and hills stretching into the distance below, nervously eyeing the tee which is rather close to the mountain edge.

My shot barely scoots off the edge of the mountain. That million dollars was never going to be mine.

Others in the group do better, but it really can be nerve-wracking. JD says grown men and good golfers have frozen up here.

I sit on a rock in the mild breeze then we're helicoptered back down to where those lucky enough to get the ball in play on the green (none of my group except for JD) finish playing the hole. It's an incredible thing to do.

Another time we're taken on a tour of the signature golf course, designed by 18 legends of golf from around the world. Our own Michael Cambell designed par four.

Cambo apparently liked the challenge of this hole which has a turning bunker like he wanted, but I miss most of the explanation because there in the distance pops up something that looks like a meerkat. It's a mongoose which is related - they do the same standing up thing.

I head off to get a closer look, keeping a mild eye out for snakes in the grass but seeing none of the puff adders or Mozambique spitting cobras we were told occasionally hang out here on the undulating golf course. I do see zebra, but not the big five who are safely behind the predator fence.

Along the green everyone stops to check out the dung beetles. Heaps of them are engrossed in rolling their big balls of dung, toiling away in the hot African sun.

They'll bury the balls and hatch their young inside and are fantastic little creatures to watch.

We were taken for another treat at Entabeni. A lioness gave birth just seven and a half hours ago at a lion sanctuary which is helping to re-establish the endangered white lion species back into the wild. The white lions here are all orphaned and are either pure or carry the gene. One day it's hoped a pride will go into the game park.

The newborns are tucked away from view in a shelter guarded by the new mum, but there are a couple of older white lion cubs, cute as anything, who watch us curiously, and we meet a juvenile tawny lion that Arrie van de Venter, who runs this place, used to have on his bed.

The lions let him massage their ears but we're not allowed to try that. Just as well. Up close you see the majesty and rippling muscle power as they eye you through pale eyes, which see only in black and white, but which leave you in no doubt they are king.

When we then see wild lions on afternoon safari, well, what a thrill. They're not up to much, just chilling out. A couple of lionesses and some cubs, and a big-maned beautiful male who slumps on the road, fast asleep despite the gawking tourists so close by. They can smell us, of course, says JD, and if someone got out, as some idiots apparently try, they wouldn't last long.

The lions don't see the jeep as a threat, as long as we stick to the rules. "They view this as one solid thing. It's why I say don't make too many sudden moves, lean out or put your hands out because you break the outline of the vehicle."

While we watch, JD talks.

The lionesses are "absolute killers" he says but the males have to know how to hunt as well, otherwise they wouldn't survive.

Young males get driven out of the pride and it's not an easy time.

"When you see a big male lion like that you've got to know he's a machine. He's got there 'cause he pushed to get there and he's faced a lot of trauma in his time."

Lions might be king of the jungle, but they're not infallible. JD's seen many tragic tales unfold with cubs and even adults, who have had their jaws kicked off by a giraffe or eyes stoved in by a zebra. He's seen cubs with broken backs and broken pelvises - "it's not nice but it's nature". But lions are clever, too. He's watched a single lioness run a giraffe on to broken terrain so it would fall down and when it did she was on it.

JD has so many stories he says people tell him to write a book. But how can you capture in words things you have to experience to believe? Like the time he and a mate were out late in a jeep like ours and a breeding herd of elephants came up and surrounded the vehicle, the babies putting their trunks through the side to sniff and the adults from above, covering everything in snot.

"We sat for like 20 minutes, we couldn't say anything. It was just a mind-blowing experience. You can hardly even relate that, you can't translate it into a book."

There are many more JD stories but we don't have time, and anyway he's heard on the radio that elephants have been spotted elsewhere, so we leave the lions and park up near a bridge at one of their favourite crossings. We can hear them before we see them, squelching soft footsteps in the reeds, then one by one they pass by on the road ahead, crossing so silently for such huge beasts, and again we sit in awe. Late at night JD makes us lie on the ground in the dust and we listen to Africa's heartbeat.

On our last morning safari two cheetahs make a lame effort at hunting but miss their prey and we watch for a while, parked so close we can hear their pounding, exhausted panting in the grass. Then it comes time to leave this magical place.

Mind you, I can't really complain. Next stop is Sabi Sabi, a private reserve within the huge Kruger National Park which is said to be teeming with game.

CHECKLIST

Getting there: Air New Zealand now offers a convenient onestop service to Johannesburg code-sharing with South African Airways from Perth. See airnz.co.nz or ring 0800 737 000.

Where to stay:

Sun City Resort: Prices vary, depending on which hotel and which level of luxury you go for, but you're looking at $400 to $500 and upwards a night. To get there, drive from Johannesburg, it's only a couple of hours. See sun-city-south-africa.com.

Entabeni: The Legend Golf and Safari Resort has a fabulous golf course and various luxury accommodations both inside and outside the predator fence. If you're really loaded you can get there by flying into a tiny airstrip where wild animals graze, or you can take an enjoyable drive along the N1 from Johannesburg to Polokwane
See legendgolfsafari.com.

Further information: To find out more about visiting South Africa see southafrica.net.

Catherine Masters travelled to South Africa courtesy of Air New Zealand.