Kanondo Tree Camp

It’s time for another Kodak-era retrospective post. Here’s a look back at the first time I went on a safari in Africa. At the time, I was en route to Europe for my brother Hamish’s wedding in October 1996. I decided to make the most of my time abroad by booking my first-ever round-the-world ticket. My route flew me from Sydney to Johannesburg, onto Frankfurt, then across the Atlantic to LA and Honolulu before returning to Sydney.

On the way to Europe, I spent seven days in southern Africa, packing in plenty of once-in-a-lifetime experiences. First up was a flight to Victoria Falls where I spent two nights exploring this breathtaking wonder of the natural world. I then transferred to Hwange National Park for three nights on safari, before finally stopping for a night in Johannesburg.

My inaugural African safari adventure kicked off on 10 October. After three days in Victoria Falls, a safari guide collected me from my hotel for transfer to Hwange. My travel agent had booked me into the cosy, but rustic, Kanondo Tree Camp, about two hours east of Victoria Falls. I’d asked the agent to book a venue that offered an authentic safari experience, rather than a plush hotel that would distance me from the surrounding environment. He certainly delivered on the brief.

The camp was in a private game reserve bordering Hwange National Park. It offered treetop accommodation in private treehouse chalets built on stilts near the Kanondo Pan waterhole. The grounds were open to the surrounding bush. The chalets were also windowless open-fronted rooms with nothing more than a curtain shielding guests from the African wildlife. 

However, despite its remote location, the camp was surprisingly well-appointed. My chalet included an ensuite on the ground floor, with hot water, heated by a log fire, available for a couple of hours each day. Our meals, including a three course dinner each night, were cooked and served in a central thatched roof “Boma” pavilion.

The camp is ideally situated. Its namesake waterhole, less than 100 metres away, is popular with the local wildlife. Just how popular became evident on our second night in camp. In the dark of night we heard an antelope let out a brief blood curdling screech. The following morning within minutes of venturing out on safari we came upon a leopard up a tree. It had a freshly killed antelope wedged securely alongside it in the tree boughs.

Our guides took us on safari twice a day. Once in the morning and again in the late afternoon once the heat of the day had subsided. The wildlife was abundant and easy to find. Thanks to the dry season, the animals were heavily concentrated around the area’s few remaining waterholes. 

The Kanondo waterhole just outside our camp was also situated in the heart of the home range of the famous Presidential Elephants of Zimbabwe. This is a three-hundred-strong herd protected by presidential decree. It’s often seen drinking at Kanondo or feeding in the forest around the camp. During my safari we saw plenty of them at the waterhole each day.

I'm delighted to report that, while on safari, our group successfully spotted four "Big Five" game animals. The Rhino was the only one we never saw. However, it wasn’t resident in the area, so we really hadn’t missed it. The leopards were out in abundance. We saw more than a dozen over three days, including one during a special night safari. Our guide later told us how rare it was to see so many in one location.

The elephants loved our local waterhole. They were the first of the Big Five we saw within minutes of leaving camp for the first time. We stopped to watch their antics, including several babies, more than once, including an awesome safari drive after dark. As you can imagine, I took roll upon roll of film while in Hwange. The images published here are just a few of almost one hundred photos I took.

While in Hwange, a group of us took a half tour into a local village. Our itinerary included visiting the village primary school where its Principal escorted us around the grounds. He showed us the school's undercover open-air classroom space plus its enclosed indoor "Winter" rooms. At one point, we entered a classroom to watch the children receive a lesson. We introduced ourselves and told where we'd come from. A couple on my tour had come prepared. They’d brought boxes of pencils especially to gift to the children. As for me, I recall donating most of the local currency left in my wallet.

Our guide also invited us into a local resident’s thatched hut where we found the occupants cooking indoors over an open firepit. Then, finally, as we were leaving the village we saw the children leaving school for the day on the local school bus aka a horse-drawn cart. I still recall how stunned I was by this first exposure to the primitive nature of life in Africa. An insight that was subsequently reinforced when I visited Soweto a few days later.

On 13 October, after a final early morning safari, I returned to Johannesburg via Lake Karbi and Harare. I flew domestically with Air Zimbabwe before transferring onto a South African Airways flight in Harare. The domestic flight’s brief stop in Lake Karbi was unexpected as it wasn’t listed on my ticket.

However, the detour was a real highlight. Lake Karbi is considered one of Zimbabwe’s premier tourist spots. I still recall the experience of coming to land, flying low over the lake, as thousands of flamingoes scattered in the distance. Score one for the window seat I’d managed to bag! In contrast, Harare airport was a shock. The terminal proved to be little more than a retrofitted tin shed.

My flight to Frankfurt departed late evening the following day. I made the most of my time in Johannesburg with a full-day tour that took me through the heart of Soweto and then onto Pretoria via the iconic Volktrekker Monument. The tour of Soweto was particularly memorable. Its highlights included lunch at Wandie’s Place (an iconic local watering hole), plus stops at Nelson Mandela’s early home, a local swatter camp and the site of the infamous Soweto uprising. I still recall how stark the contrast between Soweto and the wealthy northern suburb of Sandton.

Once again the poverty was eye-opening, as were signs reminding visitors to leave their weapons outside. Our tour was invited inside one of the squatter huts to meet "Grandma" a local doyan. She was warm and inviting. Her simple home was heated by a wood-burning stove that doubled as her kitchen. However, I must admit that I cringe now at the photo I took inside her hut. It reeks of unsavoury voyeur tourism, even though each of us visiting gave her a small donation.

The tour of Pretoria was rather truncated. We briefly stopped to tour Paul Kruger House and experience a view over the city from Parliament Hill. Although to be honest, the city's most memorable aspect was its Jacaranda trees. They were in full bloom everywhere you looked.

Chaos was reigning when I arrived at the airport that night. I was scheduled to fly with South African Airways. However, all of its flights were grounded thanks to industrial action. Momentary panic set in as I’d left myself one day to get to Kitzbuhel for my brother’s wedding on 16 October. I was scheduled to land in Frankfurt on 15 October, then catch a train to Wörgl where my brother had offered to collect me. Fortunately, the airline transferred me onto a Lufthansa flight. As a result, I flew out only a few hours later than originally scheduled.

I recall two things about this flight. First, I flew a 747 Combi. This unique 747 configuration has its front half decked out for passengers while the rear is configured to carry freight. A false wall separates the two zones, making for a relatively compact passenger cabin. Furthermore, there wasn’t an empty seat onboard my flight courtesy of the strike.

The second recollection involves our takeoff from Johannesburg. Thanks to the airport’s relatively high altitude, our fully laden aircraft used the full length of the airport’s extended runway to climb into the air. OR Tambo International Airport sits 1700 metres above sea level. As a result, the air is thinner,  often made more so by the unrelenting heat of the day. To overcome this issue, its runways are longer than most other airports. The longest is an astonishing 4400 metres long.

One final memory to close this post. Shortly before flying out of Sydney, my hairdresser had talked me into bleaching my hair. As a result, I flew out as a bottle blonde. However, the unrelenting African sun played havoc with its colour. By the time I arrived in Kitzbuhel, my hair had morphed into an oddly orange hue. It would be fair to say my hair was the talk of my brother’s wedding.