A chaotic meal time

Today was our final day in the nursery, but also our first chance to feed the 3-6 month old cubs; as they had eaten meat on Sunday, they did not get fed yesterday.

With 11 hungry cubs spread across the two enclosures, feeding time is never simple. One bowl is allocated per lion, and as soon as they see the bowls coming down the path towards the enclosure, they get excited, making it difficult to get into the enclosure.

Once inside the enclosure, the trick is to distribute the bowls as quickly and as far apart as possible, and then get out before the squabbles begin.

A few minutes later, we have to go back into the enclosures to retrieve the bowls. It sounds straightforward but they do insist on licking every morsel out of the bowls, and if you try to take the bowl before they're finished, you're in trouble.

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Fresh volunteer meat

Today was a very quiet day at the park, with very few visitors, but we were still kept busy as the new volunteers didn't arrive until the afternoon.

It was my second day of working in the nursery, but it was made quite uncomfortable by the knowledge that the snake which had dropped by the other day has not yet been caught. Fortunately I did not see the snake - you certainly would have known it if I had - although three mice (not blind, to the best of my knowledge) come into the nursery every morning via a hole in the floor to play with the young cubs.

The youngest cubs at the park

Throughout the day, three new volunteers arrived, from France, Peru and Brazil.

We also had our weekly supermarket trip. Although I didn't need much in the way of food as I only have three days left (sob), I went along to browse, and end up armed with a plethora of confectionery which is not available in England.

South Africa is already well into the swing of Christmas; visiting a shopping centre in Johannesburg last week was a bizarre experience for me. Strolling in wearing shorts, a vest top and flip flops to be greeted by a lifesize Santa model and oodles of tinsel is not something I am accustomed to. Naturally, the Brazilian and Australian volunteers did not understand why I could not equate hot weather to Christmas. IT'S NOT CHRISTMAS UNTIL YOU CAN SEE YOUR OWN BREATH. Today in the supermarket, the Christmas mood continued, as the display at the front of the store was set up with all manner of Christmas biscuits. Thanks to the proximity of the chiller cabinet, it was slightly more acceptable, temperature-wise, and I was very tempted to buy some adorable Christmas biscuits, beautifully wrapped and looking as if they were held together by love, but they would not have survived the journey home in my suitcase.

The evening was a very pleasant one; all of the volunteers gathered in the kitchen and we spent the evening drinking wine, playing Monopoly and chatting, something which we had not done before, as the group of volunteers was so large previously.

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Feeding drive

Today was the first day I spent in the nursery, helping to prepare the food for the meerkats and the baby hyena (3 weeks old) and the two younger sets of cubs (4 weeks old and 8 weeks old). As well as the nursery, we had our usual shifts, and were extra busy as 9 volunteers left today, leaving the rest of us to do the work.

Baby hyena in the nursery

I still found time to go on a feeding drive; every Sunday at 11.30am, the larger lions in the camps get fed meat, dead livestock donated by local farmers. Visitors are able to drive through the camps whilst the lions are being fed, making it the busiest time of the week for game drives.

I went on one of the park's safari trucks, which is the best way to see the feed, as the drivers know the best places to park. The first camp we drove into was the white lion camp, where Letsatsi, star of the film White Lion, lives.

As we entered, Alex Larenty was combing Letsatsi's hair - a fully grown lion, the largest at the park, allowing a human to comb his mane, and apparently quite enjoying it. Alex was also spraying him with what I assumed to be water (to help with styling the hair, dahling), but what I later found out was insect repellent.

The lions, especially those without their own beautician, were already pacing hungrily at the entrance to the camp, knowing that it was their feeding time. Customers driving open backed trucks are always warned when entering the game drive that the lions may mistake it for the meat truck and try to jump on.

The feeding truck arrives

On this occasion, when the meat truck arrived at the camp, the lions ran alongside it to the far end where the spectators were waiting. I was surprised that individual portions of meat, for example one horse leg, complete with hoof, were thrown out for each animal, as I had expected them to be given a whole carcass as in the wild. However, this method ensures that everyone gets fed, as lions further down the hierarchy such as cubs and females often go without in the wild.

A lioness proudly munches her meal

Once each lion had a piece of meat, they went off to separate areas of the camp to eat in solitude. Despite the numerous warnings, it was shocking to see people holding hands and cameras out of car windows with a prowling lioness less than two feet away. Although she had just been fed, these animals are still at their most dangerous immediately after eating.

In total, we drove through three lion camps, as well as the cheetah and wild dog camps before heading back to base.

Later in the day, it was sad to see nine of the volunteers leave, as they had all been there since before I had arrived, and some of them had stayed for four weeks. The camp area was very quiet tonight with only 6 of us left, but more volunteers are arriving tomorrow.

Don't mess with this dude.

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What do you get if you cross a cub and a jumper?

Today was a relatively normal day at the Lion Park, the first time in five days that we did not leave the park. One volunteer left today, the first to do so since I arrived, with many more packing to leave tomorrow.

When the 3-6 month old cubs were fed in the evening, one volunteer left her jumper and bag in the enclosure, which interested the lions once they had finished their meals. Although Marian managed to get the bag back, the jumper was a bit more difficult as two of the larger cubs had started fighting over it. Marian had to call Princess, one of the other staff members, to help her. With a bit of wrestling, a lot of distraction and a tiny amount of pepper spray, the jumper was retrieved - more holes than a sponge but still in one piece.

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Montecasino: an Italian masterpiece

The exterior

Following my traumatic experience on the school game drive, the group of volunteers decided to head to Montecasino, a luxury entertainment complex about 15 minutes away from where we were staying.

Even pulling into the drive, Montecasino oozes glamour and sophistication to all who go near; the avenue of fairy light bedecked trees is reminiscent of a Parisian Boulevard, and circling a fountain before pulling up at the main entrance lends an air of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is grand, with echoes of an Italian castle, but once inside, past the stringent security checks, the decor is breathtaking. Set up like an Italian village, the shopfronts and street cafes are quaint, right down to the flowers trailing from the ornamental balconies, bedecked with Tuscan-style window shutters, and the washing lines crossing the street way above visitors heads. The ceiling resembles the sky very realistically, so that once you are ensconced in the hubbub, you can forget that you are inside. We requested an outside table at the restaurant, before realising that even "outside" was inside.

Good food

We enjoyed a lovely Italian meal and a few cocktails overlooking a cobbled square centred around an elaborate fountain, overshadowed by a weeping willow and fringed by a river which flows around the whole complex, criss-crossed by Venetian style humped bridges. Personally, I would have loved there to have been a boat ride taking guests around the "village", but I think that says more about my obsession with DisneyWorld than it does about any shortcomings on the part of Montecasino.

In short, it's the sort of place a girl could easily imagine being whisked off her feet. Briefly I wished there was somewhere similar in England, but it's a one-of-a-kind place that would lose it's ample charm if replicated worldwide.

After our meal, we continued exploring the endless maze of enchanting streets and ventured into the Casino before taking a taxi back to the Lion Park like real life Cinderellas.

We ate overlooking this Piazza

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Teacher for a morning

Being halfway through my stay at the Lion Park, my volunteer duties shifted up a notch today when I had to help with a school group. Not being the biggest fan of children (they don't like me, either) OR of speaking in front of large groups of people, it was the shift I had been dreading. Fortunately Heather, another volunteer who had done it before was on hand to help out.

Our task, on the face of it was simple; meet the school from their coaches, take them to the toilets, to the touch-a-cub enclosure, to the picnic area and then on a game drive. With 2 volunteers and 4 teachers to round up 110 excited 7-9 year olds (it seems that the adult:child ratios that apply to British school trips do not exist over here) it was quite a task.

Having successfully herded them through the cub enclosures and giraffe feeding station, the toughest challenge being to keep them quiet around the animals, it was time to set off on the game drive. This meant one hour of me, standing at the front of a bumpy safari truck, telling 30 odd kids about the animals, which I had known very little about myself until the previous week.

Fortunately they were very interested in the animals and engaged well with what I was telling them, asking questions (most of which I could answer!) and proudly telling me facts that they already knew.

The thing which struck me most was the way in which the schoolchildren addressed their elders with such respect; even when talking to me, they addressed me as "Maam", pronouncing it with a questioning intonation as a way to request permission to speak, and peppering the rest of  their speech with "maam" the way a British teenager punctuates her speech with "like".

Further into the drive, chaos descended, with even the teacher struggling to control the over-excited class; for me it was a nightmare come true, having 20 little people shouting and vying for my attention at once. Couple with that the fact that we were amongst a pride of white lions, some of the most dangerous animals in the world, and it suffices to say I was feeling a little uncomfortable.

As we drove through one of the lion camps, the third of four safari trucks in convoy, two fully grown lionesses paced the side of our truck, looking as if they were about to hitch a ride; the staff had told me that lions often jump onto the side of trucks, but only now did it occur to me that they had not told me how to deal with such incidents. As I turned my back on the snarling teeth and looked at the 30 faces staring back at me, some having the time of their lives and no doubt silently imploring the lions to jump, others fearing for their lives, I just asked them to keep quiet and make sure all fingers were inside the truck.

Although I knew for certain that the lions couldn't get to us, as the trucks had cages on for this purpose, there was a split second when I truly believed I was going to die then and there in South Africa, at the hands of a lion, with 30 kids watching.

You're reading this, so obviously I survived. Fortunately the lionesses didn't jump, but when we got back to base, we found that they had jumped onto the truck after ours. Nobody was hurt, and as soon as the driver drove away, the lions jumped off.

I was relieved when the whole school experience was over, as it was mentally draining, but I was also proud of myself, not only for surviving the lions, but also for surviving the children, and I spent the rest of the day feeling like I could do anything I put my mind to.

Whilst I'm in teacher mode, a quick lesson*...

THESE are fully grown, scary, wild lions, who will pace up and down next to safari trucks scaring children:

Not to be confused with THESE little cuties, the cubs, who will have a nibble on your shoelace, or lick your hand.

*Not really a lesson, more an excuse to post these adorable pictures.

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Chameleon craft market - an intimidating experience

On leaving Pilanesburg park, we drove back on the never-ending road to Haartbeespoort Dam, fearing for our lives the entire way, as our delicious lunches got chucked around inside our stomachs. We stopped at the Chameleon Market- the largest indoor craft market in South Africa.

Here we found many crafts made by local people; wooden carvings, tribal masks, pottery, stone bowls, jewellery, beaded items, paper and textile paintings.

To say the experience was intimidating would be an understatement; I was expecting a noisy hubbub of action - stallholders calling out their best prices, trying to attract customers in. Instead, the market was quieter than I had anticipated, with stallholders focusing on individual customers rather than trying to attract the masses. As soon as we entered, the stallholders surrounded us, inviting us to look at their items- most of which they had made themselves- asking our names, and trying to find out more about us so that they could suggest products we would like; our names, nationalities, how many people in our families, who we were buying presents for. Many reached out to shake our hands and introduce themselves, and in doing so, used the physical contact to drag the unwilling volunteer closer to their stall.

 Once you had entered a stall, the stallholder made it very difficult to leave, doing everything in their power to make you view their wares, only just stopping short of physically restraining you. "I give you good price" was repeated over and over again, and several stallholders told me that I was their first customer of the day - it was around 3pm so I feel this was closer to an attempt at emotional blackmail than it was at the truth, but I was boxed in between the stone bowls and the wooden giraffes, so who was I to argue?

The man who carved my wooden bowl - he drove a hard bargain!

 For someone like myself who dislikes being approached by shop assistants at home in the UK, it was far too much; if you passed a stall without stopping, the stallowner acted as though it was a personal insult. Again, I suspect that this was an attempt at emotional blackmail rather than a cultural norm. Other stallholders were more overt, begging us to support the struggling Zulu tribes by making even one small purchase from their stall (although once they had you looking at small items such as keyrings, they would subtly upgrade you until you were face to knee with a life size wooden giraffe.

Even when buying something, the stallholders had ways of trying to make you buy more; once you have paid, your item gets passed to another stallholder who will take it to their stall to wrap, forcing you to go to the other stall to collect your item. In the typical African way, they take their sweet time wrapping your purchase. all the while encouraging you to look at their wares with "no pressure to buy" (the intense watching of the eight surrounding stallholders waiting with baited breath to see if you bought anything suggests that there is indeed pressure).

I left largely unscathed, having fine-tuned my haggling skills in the process of buying two items;

A set of stone, giraffe bookends, for which the stallholder originally asked 800 Rand, but for which I eventually paid 250 Rand (about £18).

A carved wooden bowl, which I managed to reduce from 1200 Rand to 200 Rand (around £15).

Feeling mentally drained by the mental intensity of the market, we climbed wearily back into the minibus and headed for the Lion Park.

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Pilanesburg National Park safari

There is a certain smugness to be gleaned from the knowledge that you have risen before the omnipresent African sun (even if it does catch you up while you're in the shower).

We set off for a safari in Pilanesburg National Park at 5.30am, as early morning is the optimum time to see wildlife. The first part of the lengthy two hour journey took us through some beautiful scenery which would have looked more at home on a postcard from the Swiss mountains than from South Africa. A group of peaks forming a protective ring around Hartbeespoort Dam made for a breathtaking sight first thing at this early hour.

Soon, however, we settled onto one long, straight road for more than 70km, little nearby save for the odd small township and the mountains far, far in the distance. By this point we were fearing for our lives, thanks to the crazy South African driving style; most of the way there we were travelling well above the 120 km/h speed limit. When wanting to overtake a vehicle in front, South Africans do not wait until the opposite lane is clear and then overtake. Instead they drive up right behind the vehicle in front until the driver is forced to pull over, sometimes off of the road entirely, and let them pass. This technique, combined with the several sets of tyre skidmarks leading off of the road and into the surrounding bushes, did not bode well.

However, by 8am we were in Pilanesburg and on safari, although I was kicking myself for having forgotten my binoculars. The first hour or so was fairly uneventful as we skirted around the edge of mountains, passing the occasional herd of zebra or wildebeest. We came across a large group of cars all parked facing the same way, and our driver asked one of the other drivers what was going on. Turns out there was a pride of lions on a riverbank in the far distance - nearly impossible to see without binoculars (thankfully other people had remembered theirs!).  As lions are notoriously difficult to spot in the wild, it was an honour to see them in their natural habitat, although difficult to believe that we had been working with these animals all week. Our existing knowledge of them only served to enhance our enjoyment.

A few minutes after leaving the lions we saw our best sighting of the day; a herd of elephants bathing about 20ft away from the road. Further sightings of the day included rhinos, hippos, crocodiles and giraffes. Sadly we saw no leopards or buffalo, so were unable to complete our Big Five checklist.

The setting of Pilanesburg is the sort of scenery which serves to make you realize just how small you are, and how large the world is; the mountainous terrain is dotted with trees, resembling the stubble of a recently-shaved chin. Although we travelled for four hours, we barely covered a small corner of the park, so vast is its reach.

The beautiful scenery of Pilanesburg National Park

Our final stop was the Bakubung (meaning "people of the hippo") Bush Lodge for lunch. A far cry from the Savannah-esque settings of the park, the lodge was luxurious and the food divine. We plumped for the buffet option, which consisted of seafood, several meats, vegetables, pasta and salads.

If the main course was enjoyable, then the dessert was superb. Several choices of cake, each a work of art in its own right, teased us. Naturally, I went for the chocolate-iest options possible! (Please do not judge me, everybody had at least two desserts!)

Left: Ginger and chocolate cheesecake, Right: Chocolate black forest gateau.

Even during lunch, our safari continued; the fence overlooking Pilanesburg warned of elephants and monkeys nearby, tropical birds kept landing on tables and chairs in the outdoor restaurant, and at one point I looked down to find a leaf being carried away by a group of leafcutter ants*:

*It was actually much more exciting in real life than it appears in the video. Humour me. Please.

Finishing our lunch, we left before we were eaten by giant ants, and headed for the Chameleon craft market.

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Soweto - an eye opening experience

The iconic Soweto towers - you can bungee jump from the central bridge

Leaving the Apartheid museum after our trip to Johannesburg, our next stop was Soweto, a township just outside of Johannesburg, known for poverty.

The first stop was a restaurant on Vilakazi Street, where Hector Pietersen was famously shot during the student riots. Situated in one of the wealthier areas of Soweto, the food was good, although the portions were on the small side.

 

 The street had lots of street art, including a graffiti illustration of the shooting of Hector Pietersen, and whilst driving away from the restaurant, we passed a Zulu warrior selling his wares at the roadside and stopped to have a look.

Although his story was very touching - his daughter had been born recently with cracked ribs - he was of a very cheerful disposition.

Further down the same street was the house which Nelson Mandela lived in intermittently from 1946.  Sadly it has now been commercialised, with a large fence outside, and is very different from when Mandela lived there. We didn't go inside, but our guide informed us that this is also now very unauthentic.

We then drove on to one of the poorer parts of Soweto, where many people live in the shack-type houses which people tend to associate with Africa and India. We parked on a flyover and looked down over a sea of ramshackle corrugated iron and tarpaulin constructions, clothes lines zigzagging across the settlement, which was right next to a fast-moving railway line.

 We had only been there for a couple of minutes when a young girl from the settlement and her grandmother started talking to us. Before we knew it, we turned around and there were 10-15 other children behind us, and plenty more in the settlement below who were calling for their friends to let them know we were there. Our driver, from Soweto himself, told us that they are so used to outsiders giving them money, that their parents send them up to the roadside when visitors approach, to beg for money or food. We gave them some food we had left over from our journey earlier, and it was heartbreaking to see how excited, how grateful they were, to be given half a baguette which we were going to throw away when we got home.

 Very quickly there were so many children surrounding us that the driver had to usher us back into the minibus, before explaining something to the children in a local dialect. When we later asked him what he said, he had told them that those who were not lucky enough to get food from us today would have to wait and hope that tomorrow brought them something. As heartbreaking as it was to know that we were powerless to help most of these children, the worst was yet to come.

The driver explains something to the Soweto children

We drove on to another poverty stricken settlement in Soweto, where we got out of the car with a local guide, this time someone who lived in the settlement. We started walking down one of the dust tracks, with the locals greeting us all the way, until one elderly woman invited us into her home.  It didn't feel right, us with our decent clothes, full-up stomachs and expensive cameras, invading this family's life, but our guide insisted that she was proud to invite us into her home, and would have been offended if we had refused. The house, although not much larger than my living room at home, consisted of 3 rooms; a kitchen, a tiny dining area and a bedroom. The kitchen had an oven, and not much else. The dining area walls were lined with tarpaulin. the whole time we were in the house, the lady was asking questions about us; our names, where we were from, the smile never once leaving her face.

On leaving the house, we found a group of children waiting for us at the garden gate. They all crowded round us, approaching us individually, holding our hands and hugging us. The volunteers talked as a group later, and we noticed that they all asked us the same four questions in the same order:

• What is your name?
• Where are you from?
• Do you have any brothers or sisters?
• Do you have anything for me?

Like the others, these children have learned that visitors usually bring them something, either money or food. As hard as it was, we had been told not to give them any money, as this teaches them that begging can become a sustainable way of life. We walked back to the minibus flanked by children, some still asking "Do you have something for me?" as we closed the door. An overwhelming sense of guilt hit us knowing that these children would have to go back to their parents, some with 10 or 12 mouths to feed, and tell them that they had not managed to get any money today.

But the most humbling thing of all was how friendly these people are, and how unfalteringly happy they are. Despite having next to nothing, and more worries than anyone in the Western world could ever imagine, struggling to survive each day, they are happy and welcoming, and always pleased to meet new people. From what I've seen, this is something that can be seen across South Africa; you cannot go into a shop without being asked "How are you?" and "How's your day?" by complete strangers.

The journey back to the Lion park was a subdued one as we all contemplated what we had seen. Those heart-wrenching, sympathy-evoking videos that we see every year on Comic Relief are not dramatised. exaggerated versions of the truth. For many people, they are the reality of daily life. 

As if the people of Soweto don't have enough to deal with, a dust storm was brewing as we left - strong winds blow dust and sand from the remains of gold mines which previously sat nearby. At best, the airborne sand was painful on the skin. At worst, it was blinding.

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Venturing into Joburg

Our long anticipated trip to Johannesburg and  Soweto today was not part of the volunteer programme, instead we organised it ourselves, hiring a local guide to show us the sights and keep us safe. The drive into Johannesburg took about an hour and a half, via Sandton, and we entered the city via the Nelson Mandela Bridge. Interestingly, our guide told us that buying things in Johannesburg, such as a can of soda, tends to cost about 1/3 of the price of buying them in surrounding suburbs - the reverse of most cities, where things tend to be more expensive than surrounding areas.

Our first stop was the Carlton Building, nicknamed the "Top of Africa" and claiming to be the tallest building in the Southern hemisphere-  a tower block entered via a shopping centre. We were warned to leave our bags and valuables in the car with the driver, for safety. Entering the shopping centre, we were painfully aware of being the only white people in the vicinity, as all eyes turned to look at us. Perhaps travelling past the newly built Shard in London every day has spoiled me, but I did not find the 50 floors of the Carlton building too breathtaking.

It gave us an overview of the layout of the city and the suburbs, but the heat haze and general African dustiness prevented us from seeing too far.

Descending the tower, we headed to the Oriental Market on the recommendation of Heather, a volunteer who grew up in South Africa. A mixture of stall greeted us, from Indian spices and traditional Oriental outfits to electronics.

Our quick pit stop allowed us to tuck into the highly recommended samoosas, a delicious traditional Indian food.

Our next stop was the Apartheid Museum, which gave an insight into the apartheid and the life and work of Nelson Mandela. The entrance was very cleverly designed; visitor tickets are randomly assigned as either "white" or "non-white", and they must enter the museum via the corresponding entrance, separating visitors for the first part of the museum and allowing them to briefly experience the separation of apartheid.

Whilst in the outdoor area of the museum, we experienced our first South African rain storm- an intense downpour that saw the raindrops hitting the floor and bouncing back equally as forcefully. It lasted about 15 minutes, but when emerged from the museum about 45 minutes later, there was no evidence that the shower had ever happened.

The Nelson Mandela exhibition was particularly interesting, featuring a moving video montage of Mandela's political life.

Leaving the museum, our next stop was Soweto, a township just outside of Johannesburg, known for poverty.

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