By Roxanne Reid
Kruger campers really are a breed apart, rude, pushy and without much understanding of the concept of personal space. Or maybe it’s
just me.
Kruger campers really are a breed apart, rude, pushy and without much understanding of the concept of personal space. Or maybe it’s
just me.
Okay, before I get lynched, I should say that yes, many campers in the Kruger National Park are very friendly and helpful. But they’re not the subject of this post. It’s the selfish and inconsiderate ones I’m on about here, and they’re not thin on the ground.
Take the couple at Satara who avoided countless other open spaces and parked their caravan at right angles to ours so that our awning and theirs were almost touching and we could spend the evenings looking straight into each other’s eyes. I can understand this kind of laager formation with friends you’re travelling with, but with strangers? Uh-uh, I just don’t get it.
Take the couple at Satara who avoided countless other open spaces and parked their caravan at right angles to ours so that our awning and theirs were almost touching and we could spend the evenings looking straight into each other’s eyes. I can understand this kind of laager formation with friends you’re travelling with, but with strangers? Uh-uh, I just don’t get it.
Or what about what happened to a guy we met at Crocodile Bridge? When he went out on a game drive, he left his trailer with its flaps closed to foil the over-inquisitive vervet monkeys in the camp.
‘When I got back at lunchtime,’ he told us, ‘four people in two caravans had taken over my campsite, squeezing in so close that I couldn’t open the trailer flaps to get to my stuff.’ He simply had to move away to another less shady site.
‘When I got back at lunchtime,’ he told us, ‘four people in two caravans had taken over my campsite, squeezing in so close that I couldn’t open the trailer flaps to get to my stuff.’ He simply had to move away to another less shady site.
And how's this for cheeky? We'd just about packed up our trailer at Shingwedzi, when we both trotted off to the ablutions, quite a way away. I got back and started fiddling about in the car, but hubby got waylaid chatting to another guy with a trailer – comparing rigs is an important male bonding ritual.
I heard people talking nearby but by the time I looked to see why they were so loud they were already putting up their tents behind me on our campsite – while we were still on it! Like vultures to a kill. There were plenty of other sites they could have chosen. And anyway, how did they know we weren't about to start pitching our camp rather than leaving?
I heard people talking nearby but by the time I looked to see why they were so loud they were already putting up their tents behind me on our campsite – while we were still on it! Like vultures to a kill. There were plenty of other sites they could have chosen. And anyway, how did they know we weren't about to start pitching our camp rather than leaving?
I said nothing for fear of being really rude. And what would be the point?
When hubby got back and understood that they hadn’t first checked we were leaving but just ‘stolen’ our campsite out from under us, he hopped out of the car and walked over saying, 'One piece of advice...'
I thought he was going to tick them off for being pushy, and was quite surprised because he's usually a fairly laid-back sort of chap. But no, he told them to be careful of the puff adder under the tree, which we'd seen at least twice a day and that's why we were leaving.
When hubby got back and understood that they hadn’t first checked we were leaving but just ‘stolen’ our campsite out from under us, he hopped out of the car and walked over saying, 'One piece of advice...'
I thought he was going to tick them off for being pushy, and was quite surprised because he's usually a fairly laid-back sort of chap. But no, he told them to be careful of the puff adder under the tree, which we'd seen at least twice a day and that's why we were leaving.
There had been no such puff adder; it was a fable concocted to fluster them and pay them back for being selfish.
The dad decided oh well, they'd already put up the tents and he wasn't going to move, but mom and daughter nearly had a panic attack.
We sailed off, happy to know that whatever they decided, we'd unsettled them. Either they'd have to pitch camp somewhere else anyway or they'd spend the next day or two looking over their shoulders and wondering when the non-existent snake would appear. High Five!
After weeks in the boondocks of Namibia, Zambia and Botswana, it seemed we were no longer fit for Kruger ‘civilisation’.
More about Kruger National Park
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za.
The dad decided oh well, they'd already put up the tents and he wasn't going to move, but mom and daughter nearly had a panic attack.
We sailed off, happy to know that whatever they decided, we'd unsettled them. Either they'd have to pitch camp somewhere else anyway or they'd spend the next day or two looking over their shoulders and wondering when the non-existent snake would appear. High Five!
After weeks in the boondocks of Namibia, Zambia and Botswana, it seemed we were no longer fit for Kruger ‘civilisation’.
More about Kruger National Park
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za.
