THE astoundingly beautiful Mountain Zebra National Park, near Cradock in the Eastern Cape, is a little off the tourist beaten track but if you make an effort to get there you will be amply rewarded.
This national park, one of our very favourites, started life as a little piece of land set aside to preserve the then critically endangered mountain zebras. The zebras have thrived and the population has grown – and so has the park named in their honour.
Today it is a respectable 28 412 hectares in size, big enough to provide an interesting array of game including large, reintroduced mammals like black rhino, brown hyena, buffalo and even cheetah. Game viewing and birding are always good but it is the unique sense of place that is, to us, the main attraction.
The Mountain Zebra national Park is a place of drama and majesty and extreme conditions, a harsh mountainous world of rugged koppies, flat-topped mountains, game-rich plateaux and endless, bossie-studded plains. It is infinitely lovely, wild and exhilarating.
Like the other Sanparks national parks it is very visitor friendly, with an attractive rest camp, plenty of up-market, comfortable accommodation and excellent visitor facilities. The attractive office and accommodation complex melts unobtrusively into its environment and is surrounded by pretty indigenous gardens that reflect their grand settings. The pleasant camping site, where we always set up tent, huddles beneath craggy mountains where resident black eagles fly. Guests can also stay in splendid isolation at Doornhoek, a restored Victorian farmhouse.
Mountain Zebra also provides visitors with wonderful game driving routes. We are always awed by the remoteness and raw beauty when we drive the Rooiplaats Loop. It offers endless vistas of undulating grassy plateau, rugged mountains and striking rock formations.
Much of the popular Kranskop Loops follows the green and pleasant Wilgeboom River valley and boasts two delightful picnic sites, one of which now has a swimming pool. The Ubejane 4X4 Loop is set out in a scrubby, sandy plains section where visitors can meet some of the park’s smaller residents like the ground squirrels and mongoose. A scenic road links Ubejane Loop to the higher plateau.
We have paid this gorgeous piece of Karoo wilderness four visits and have discovered it has many moods. At times dry and arid, it undergoes a startling transformation after the rains. How green and pretty it is then, the mountains and plains covered with a scattering of flowers. In summer it can be extremely hot but it can also be bitterly cold. And it has a special kind of magic on rainy days when the clouds roll in and the mist obscures the mountain tops.
We have many happy memories of this beautiful national park. We have explored it thoroughly and have always been mesmerised by the ever-changing, stunning views. One morning, we watched two cheetah eating off a kill right next to the road but we have been just as entranced by the extravagance of general game on the plateaux and by the fascinating little dwellers of the scrubby plains. Of course the Cape mountain zebras are among the park’s main attractions and we are always thrilled to encounter the adorable little creatures. Perhaps, though, it is a special memory of a crisp and chilly winter morning that best sums up what is so special about this unique piece of wilderness:
It is August, officially winter and although there are signs that the Karoo spring in on the way, it is still very cold. We are warm and snug in our rooftop tent, but when we clamber down for our early morning coffee, we quickly reach for jackets, scarves, beanies and gloves. It’s freezing! Bill glances at the thermometer. We are not surprised to see it is five degrees below zero, here in the shade, but the sun has already climbed over the mountain, spilling light into the centre of the camping area.
Like many of our fellow campers we are irresistibly drawn to this sunny little patch. As we sip our early morning coffee I notice that it is not only the humans who are luxuriating in the frail warmth of the wintry morning sun. The boubou and robin couples and the flock of adorable little white-browed sparrow weavers that share the camping ground with us are sunning themselves happily in the bare branches of the surrounding trees. The camping area is suddenly filled with their songs.
Our coffee cups emptied we climb into our vehicle, switch on the heater and head off for a morning drive. From a game point of view there is nothing much to see – until we turn a corner and reach the slopes that face the morning sun.
Every four-footed park resident seems to have made its way here. As far as the eye can see the sloping grasslands are filled with herds of springbok, blesbok, gemsbok, red hartebeest, zebra and black wildebeest, so eye-catching with their blonde pony tails. How joyously they all seem to be soaking up the sun. The jackals are out in full force, too. We stop to watch three different family groups having a wonderful time, racing around and playing together like puppies.
Mostly we take it for granted that day follows night; but when the mercury plummets overnight, how warmly we welcome the return of that big, life-sustaining star we call our sun.
I am not surprised that, in cold northern winters, so many ancient rites and festivals were – and in some cases still are – associated with the winter solstice. When the darkest night is past and the sun begins its slow northward journey, there is reason to celebrate.
It is highly significant to me that early Christianity usurped the pagan solstice festivals to celebrate the birth of the Christ Child and the coming of the Light. Perhaps subconsciously for all of us, each dawn that follows a cold, dark night is a small celebration of light and warmth, a celebration of life itself.
