From Bass Lake to Crocodile Bridge: Surprises, Sightings, and a Mop-Wielding Warthog Wrangler
We left Bass Lake early, slightly anxious about finding our way back to the N4 and bracing ourselves for the inevitable convoy of trucks. Thankfully, we navigated back to the N1 without a hitch and soon merged onto the N4. It was busy, as expected, but the dual lanes made for a smooth enough drive.
With no breakfast in our bellies, we decided to stop at the next promising spot—and that turned out to be Alzu. What a surprise! We expected the usual roadside pit stop: a fuel station, maybe a tired-looking restaurant. Instead, Alzu felt like someone had plucked a strip mall from Joburg and dropped it in the middle of the bush. Multiple restaurants, a shop that could rival a small city, and crowds of people everywhere.
After peeking into Mug & Bean and Spur, we opted for the quieter Farmer’s Bistro. Good call. They served up toasted egg and bacon sandwiches on thick farm bread—hearty, delicious, and paired with the obligatory mountain of chips. Alec and I couldn’t even finish ours.
Back on the road, we made good time until we hit a jaw-dropping queue of trucks near Komatipoort—15 kilometres of slow-moving metal. It made us wonder: where do these drivers eat, sleep, or even find a bathroom? Most of the ore trucks don’t have sleeper cabs, so it must be a rough few days inching forward.
Eventually, we turned off towards Crocodile Bridge and felt that familiar thrill—Kruger time. We’d never stayed at Croc Bridge before, and it turned out to be a gem. Neatly demarcated campsites (a rarity!), a warm welcome from the resident bushbuck, and a shady, safe spot for Lizzie, our caravan.
The camp was spotless, with beautifully tended gardens. We met a man wielding a bright green, slightly moth-eaten mop—his warthog deterrent. Apparently, the warthogs like to sleep under vehicles and have midnight tusk-fueled brawls that wreak havoc on wiring. Mop diplomacy at its finest.
Our game drives were fantastic. A courting pair of lions stole the show, but we also saw herds of impala, elegant kudu, and some lovely birds. Croc Bridge was the perfect start to our holiday.
That said, Monday marked the beginning of SAN Parks’ free access week, and the roads turned chaotic. Sightings always cause traffic jams, but with the surge in daily visitors, it was borderline gridlock.
The Long Drive to Berg-en-Dal: Rhinos, Rock Formations, and a Camp That Could Use a Map
After two nights at Croc Bridge, we headed to Berg-en-Dal. We had three options: backtrack to the N4 and brave the trucks again, take the bone-rattling gravel road between Croc Bridge and Malelane, or enjoy a leisurely drive up the tar road via Skukuza. No contest—we chose the tar road and stopped at Lower Sabie for breakfast.
Berg-en-Dal was bustling. Cars, vans, tents—everywhere. It took a while to find a spot, and honestly, I wish SAN Parks would follow Croc Bridge’s lead and demarcate sites. At Berg-en-Dal, it was hard to tell where one site ended and another began. At one point, a tent was completely boxed in by vehicles, and a mini reshuffle was needed just to let the poor campers out.
Still, the sightings were wonderful. The landscape here is stunning—rocky kopjies and dramatic rock formations. It’s prime rhino territory, and we were lucky to spot a cow and her calf. The highlight, though, was a female leopard doing what leopards do best: napping. She was so relaxed, it felt like a privilege just to watch her breathe.
After two lovely days, it was time to pack up and head to Maroela—another first for us.
The Curse of the Smartphone: A Rant from the Riverbank
One thing I just can’t wrap my head around is the obsession with phones. At Lower Sabie’s Mug & Bean, we sat on the veranda overlooking the magnificent Sabie River. Birds flitted across the water, animals moved in the distance—and yet, most people were glued to their screens.
Before even greeting the waiter, phones were out, thumbs scrolling. No eye contact, no conversation, just a sea of faces lit by blue light. And it’s not just teenagers—it’s everyone. Why come to the park if your main interest is a 4×6 inch screen?
Don’t get me wrong—my phone’s a useful tool. But I sincerely hope it never becomes the most important thing in my life.
Adventuring into Retirement 