It’s not the biggest nor the wildest park in the land, but there is something about Pilanesberg National Park. Come rain or shine, winter or summer, something memorable – something surprising – always seems to happen. Without fail. Without exception. On my last trip, as some of you might remember, it was the elusive leopard that made my trip memorable; the time before that it was almost driving straight into the feted car-flipping bull elephant Amarula. I had rounded a corner a little too quickly (just a little I promise!) to get to the park gates before closing time, then had to reverse away from the charging animal with 3 German interns screaming in the back seats. The list goes on and on. 
I suppose the downside is that my regular visits to the park now come with a sense of expectation, which by the same token creates a greater space for potential disappointment sooner or later. I tried to at least keep this in mind during my most recent visit to the park a couple of weeks ago. Surely by now I have seen it all, I told myself as we drove through the park, ticking off all the usual suspects in our little guide book as always. In particular, there were so many rhino about the place that I wondered if the gin and tonic in our cooler box wasn’t making me hallucinate; we also had some particularly great lion sightings, especially for this time of year. But as so often seems to be the case, for some reason the real surprise didn’t come until late on our final day in the park, with the sun descending quickly behind the horizon and everyone beginning to make their way to the exits. We were just a couple of kilometers from Manyane Gate when I heard faint, strange and unfamiliar sounds away to my right. “Does anyone else here that?” I asked. We stopped the car and listened. Whatever it was we were hearing, there were a number of them; the sounds were high-pitched, almost frenzied, a little like very young children laughing wildly. “Hyenas?” I ventured. “Let’s go find out,” one of my companions said, turning onto a small side track a few metres ahead and following the sounds. Within a couple of minutes, we found the source of the sound. A pack of African wild dogs, maybe fifteen strong, had just captured an Impala and were busy ripping it to shreds as if it was little more than a piece of scrap paper. They were so excited with their catch they didn’t even seem to notice we were there. 
For all my years of travelling in Southern Africa, this was my first encounter with these amazing and highly sociable creatures. They were prettier than I had imagined, with their intricate markings, large ears and angular faces. I was both shocked and amazed by their efficiency at devouring their prey. Within a few minutes, the meal was well and truly over and off they trotted into the encroaching night, in search of their next prey no doubt; wild dogs are incredible hunters. We turned around and made our way back to the gate. We would leave the next morning, and once again Pilanesberg had managed to surprise me right at the end of it all, making sure that it wouldn’t be long before I found myself back there again, wondering what on earth could be next. Chris Clark (visit his site http://www.cawclark.com/) Do you also have an experience that you would like to share? Send us your story or leave a comment below.
