Spekboom camp
(and a very hungry mouse)
In our younger, more energetic days we did the Otter Trail. It’s stunningly beautiful, but this tale is about a few days we added onto the end of the trip, at the Addo Elephant Park. Having driven all the way from Johannesburg, it seemed silly to not take advantage of being so near to this impressive national park.
The plan was made late, so no camping sites were available for the dates we needed. Staying with the theme of camping, we booked into the Spekboom Tented Rest Camp. It’s located at the Spekboom hide, within the main game viewing area. Staying at the rest camp grants visitors the privilege of being able to access the hide at night, or a sundowner that extends way past the gate time as you are already in the camp.
Our first night, we decided to take it easy. This was in no way because of aching muscles, or sore feet. Just pacing ourselves. But I digress.
Each campsite is set in a small clearing of thick Spekboom, which gives a great deal of privacy and feels very much on the bush. It is equipped with a canvas tent set on a plinth. Two directors’ chairs grace the entrance area and a small braai is set to the side.
We sat quietly watching the birds fly overhead, and listening to the sounds of the bush around us. A rustling on the grass at the edge of the clearing caught our attention. Careful investigation showed us the source was a little field mouse, with the distinctive racing stripes down its back. It continued happily foraging in the grass, and boldly coming quite close to us. We sat, sipping a cool beverage and snacking on a bowl of crisps and quietly watched it go about its business.
The husband, in a moment of inattention, or perhaps generosity, placed the bowl of crisps on the ground in front of us. In a flash, our little friend had sniffed it out and come to investigate. Tiny nose twitching, little hands grasped the edge of the bowl as it looked at the unexpected bounty before it. The shiny dark eyes, flicked between us and the crisps.
Breaking the long-drawn moment, the mouse leapt up, grasping the biggest crisp standing proud in the bowl, and ran for cover. So quick and stealthy was it, that we couldn’t see the mouse itself as it scurried back to wherever it came from. However, so large was the booty it had looted from us, that its progress was marked by the upright, wavering crisp held aloft.
As it disappeared into the undergrowth, the crisp swallowed up by branches and leaves we sat, mouths agape before bursting into laughter.
The moral of the story: when presented with an unexpected feast, be sure to take the biggest piece!