The next day we set off early to have a picnic lunch at Pafuri.
First we came across a couple of dung beetles
It was unclear whether the second one was helping, hindering or just hitching a ride.
Much further on, at Klopperfontein, three young male lions had caught a young buffalo
Their faces and forepaws were masked and gloved in blood and gore.
A short way up the road, a perfectly camouflaged chameleon was crossing the road
We were photographing it when a large SUV, speeding towards the lions, drove right over it. I shut my eyes in horror. When I opened them again I saw that it was miraculously unharmed.
We made sure it got safely across the road and continued on our way.
At Crooks Corner the Limpopo River was in full flow
It was every bit as great, grey-green and greasy as Rudyard Kipling had described it.
And it was all set about with fever trees
On the drive back, after lunch, it began to drizzle.
By the time we crossed the Shingwidzi River the day had turned cold and misty.
We stopped there to watch a troop of baboons. They were lapping the rain from the surface of the road
Just beyond the turn off to Tshanga, the Baobab was beautifully backlit
Back at Bateleur we lit a fire.
We braaied some delicious Hoedspruit wors and hubbard squash. When we had eaten, we leant back in our chairs. We sat in silence, staring at the flames as they flared and flickered in the dark. Sipping a slow whisky, letting the peace and perfection of our surroundings wash over us, we were bathed in the beauty of the bushveld night.