China needs to act now on the country’s illegal ivory trade to stop elephants becoming extinct, according to one conservationist.

China accounts for 40 per cent of the world’s trade in elephant tusks, with many bound for the country intercepted by customs officials in Hong Kong

Joyce Poole, co-director of Elephant Voices, said the creatures had experienced their worst year in history, with more than 7 per cent killed for their tusks in only a year.

She called for China to tackle the country’s appetite for ivory to save the remaining 400,000 elephants from extinction, and said the species would be extinct within a decade if poaching continued at the current rate.

Nearly 40,000 elephants are killed for their tusks every year, Poole told the South China Morning Post.

‘It’s either China does something, or we lose the elephants. It’s that big,’ she said.

‘If we can’t even save the elephants – such an iconic keystone animal, important to the African habitat – then what hope do we have?’

Ivory is known as ‘white gold’ in China, she said, and is symbol of wealth and status.

A worldwide ban on ivory was imposed in 1989, with two sanctioned sales of stock to China and Japan in 1999 and 2007.

Hong Kong customs officials have seized at least 16 tonnes of ivory worth HK$87million (more than £7million) bound for China in the past five years – which would require the tusks of 1,800 elephants, the paper reported.

About 93 per cent of elephant carcasses have been found to have been killed by poachers, said Poole, who has researched elephants for 40 years.

One elephant would earn an African poacher the same as a typical annual salary, she told the newspaper.

‘I think many people don’t know that you can’t get the tusks [for ivory] without killing the elephants,’ Poole said.

‘[Beijing is] still in denial that they have any part to play. Ivory isn’t worth much to the [Chinese] economy, but losing the elephants will make a huge difference to African countries.’ – Daily Mail

‘When I pay for a view, I expect something more interesting than that,’ snapped the cantankerous hotel guest, unhappy with the view from her hotel room in BBC’s comedy Fawlty Towers. Hotel manager Basil gesticulated towards the window, ‘well, that is Torquay, Madam,’ he said. She haughtily responded, ‘Well, it’s not good enough.’ ‘May I ask what you were expecting to see out of a Torquay hotel bedroom window? Sydney Opera House perhaps, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, herds of wildebeest sweeping majestically across the plain’, Basil retorted.

© David Johnson

Of all the world’s wonders to choose from, the most magnificent Basil could think of was the great wildebeest migration, one of nature’s most spectacular events. Less well-known is another, much larger migration that ended as recently as 120 years ago in South Africa. Had it not been annihilated by human impacts, one of the most popular Fawlty Towers jokes would probably have ended with the punch line, ‘herds of springbok sweeping majestically across the Karoo’.

A personal account

Gert van der Merwe’s personal account of the great springbok migration is told in Lawrence G. Green’s book Karoo. Towards the end of the 19th century, Gert’s family moved their sheep and cattle between decent grazing lands, helped by their shepherds and a San wagon leader who must have previously experienced the migration. ‘The trek buck are on their way and we’ll be trampled to death if we stay in the riverbed,’ he warned when only a cloud of dust was visible in the distance.

The party heeded his advice. They cut down thorn trees and arranged a barrier of piercing spears around the wagon and oxen, hoping the thorn rampart would divert the springbok’s course. Pyres of dry grass and green sticks were prepared. The fire and smoke would act as a further line of defence against the charging horde. The springbok were around three miles (five kilometres) away when Gert heard the stampede for the first time. Until then, he’d only been able to see the plume of dust caused by the throng of tiny feet. Small animals like meerkat, jackal and other species were already instinctively seeking refuge. Gert’s party lit the fires and waited as the terrifying yet awe-inspiring sight approached.

The frontrunners veered around the hill, avoiding the thorn and fire defences, but the springbok tsunami could only be held off for so long. Soon they collided with the defences and the injured and fallen were often trampled by others. When the barrier could take it no longer, the springbok ran among the cattle that joined the rampage.

© David Johnson

Gert claims that the dust cloud was so thick it became hard to breathe. His wife covered their children with blankets in a desperate attempt to prevent them from being smothered. It took around an hour for the bulk of the charge to pass. Stragglers and wounded animals tried to catch up for some time afterwards. Gullies in the veld filled with the carcasses of dead springbok. It sounds impressive, but ‘majestically’ doesn’t sound like the correct word to describe the way they swept across the plains.

A disturbing reality

The most recent migration took place in 1896. Since then, hunting, roads, fences, urbanisation, farming and other human developments have wiped it out. I doubt that Gert and his group would have dreamed that the springbok migration would be totally annihilated within a few years of their experience. I suspect the collapse of the sardine run in our lifetime might appear as unlikely to us as the demise of the springbok migration would have to Gert.

We’ll never know the full biological intricacies behind this migration as it was never scientifically studied. Today, it’s neither practically possible to reconnect the immense tracts of land that have been bisected by roads and fences, nor to recreate the springbok’s complex natural behaviour.

Conservation strategies need to move within the realities of human land use. The Mountain Zebra–Camdeboo Corridor Project realises that fact. David will be writing about it for an upcoming issue of Africa Geographic. The project’s aim is not to drop fences, dig up roads or change land use, but to preserve the veld. Early indications are that this unique partnership between landowners and national parks could be a model project for the future.

Fishing near Ngwesi houseboat, an enchanting vessel in which to explorie the Okavango Delta.

The myriad waterways, the plethora of wildlife and the lush vegetation in the Okavango Delta make it a sought-after safari destination. With its brazen sunsets, hazy landscapes and bronze-coloured waters teeming with animals, this is Botswana’s most prized possession. The serenity of the delta creates a sense of peace that infiltrates the soul.

Reed rafts and papyrus make up the majority of the Okavango Delta’s natural habitat, offering seclusion to crocodiles and hippos. Most camps here base themselves in private concessions and are impressively built on the banks of one of the Okavango River’s various tributaries. Land-based camps offer safaris in game vehicles; those on water in traditional hand-crafted wooden canoes. Most of the camps are accessible via airstrips and you’ll experience safari opportunities in idyllic settings.

Hippos

The camps are fantastic. However, we’ve got a secret – the forgotten part of the delta, where wildlife is rich and humans are sparse. It’s the panhandle, where the river widens into channels across the sand in the north-eastern part of Botswana, an area best explored in a houseboat. This is a relatively underdeveloped, less touristy section of the bountiful delta network.

African fish-eagle.

The panhandle boasts an array of fish, in particular bream, pike and catfish. If fishing is your favourite pastime, then the panhandle is ideal. Another attraction is the barbel run, during which these fish congregate in their thousands to swim upstream, a unique phenomenon that takes place between August and October.

White-fronted bee-eaters.

Due to the abundance of fish in these waters, they attracts an interesting array of birdlife. This is an ornithologist’s delight and ‘twitchers’ can expect to see the African fish-eagle, Pel’s fishing-owl, rufous-bellied heron, bee-eaters and more than 500 other recorded species spanning a wide range of habitats. A birding trip to the panhandle on a houseboat will never disappoint.

Unlike other owl species, the vulnerable Pel’s fishing-owl, is ‘earless’

A stay on the Ngwesi houseboat will see you navigating your way through 80 kilometres of reeds and thick papyrus, criss-crossed by canals, into flat, tranquil water with panoramic views – ideal for game watching. Because of the diverse habitats, the wildlife is varied and at stages you’ll even see cattle wading through the reeds. Tender boats can be used to navigate the narrow channels to find private locations for fishing and photography.

Cattle wade through the channels

While taking meals on the deck of the houseboat, you can enjoy the hues of the sky at both dawn and dusk. Don’t be surprised if you see a family of otters or even birds such as grey crowned cranes, lilac-breasted rollers, hamerkops and other wading birds. You’ll sleep in comfort, surrounded by the sounds of wildlife, right in the middle of the action. This is far, far more intriguing than being based on land.

Crocodiles cruise the channels for prey

A zoo elephant released into the Gondwana Game Reserve has died and experts are trying to determine the cause of death. 

© NSPCA – National Council of SPCA’s

Thandora was held in captivity for 23 years before she was released into the wild this year with high hopes that she would adapt to the environment.

However, experts from Conservation Global were shocked and distraught to find that she had died.

“I am shattered having endured 36 hours of emotional rollercoaster that ended at 05h30 this morning,” Greg Vogt from Conservation Global told News24 after finding the elephant dead.

A post mortem has been carried out and the results may reveal Thandora’s cause of death.

There had been wide expectations that Thandora would live out several years on the reserve and there were indications that she had joined a herd.

It is unclear whether the death will impact of further efforts to re-introduce captive animals in SA back into the wild.

“We were on a game drive on Chiefs Island out of Mombo Camp in the Okavango Delta when we heard lions fighting in the thickets. Upon investigation we came across four young male lions that had caught a young female lion from a nearby pride. The lioness was part of a small group of lions that had a kill too far into the other territory. They were surprised by the four males, the one lioness was caught whilst the rest fled. While the four had successfully subdued the female in what had been a vicious fight they began feeding on her while she was still alive. As the lioness took her last breaths, the four males were feeding on her as if it was a normal prey animal. More bizarre was when two lionesses from the four male lion’s pride joined them to feed and in a fairly short time cleaned up the carcass to only leave a few bones.

In 20 years of safari guiding, I have never come across such strange behavior of male lions towards a female and despite total submission, continued to kill her in an act of cannibalism partaken by all. This was more than a territorial dispute, it was totally abnormal lion behavior.”

© Ole Friede

© Ole Friede

If you have any interesting or exciting wildlife encounters you would like to share, email us at online.editors@africageographic.com

It is important to monitor a rhino’s body temperature during times of stress, so water was used to keep Precious cool. She was shot behind the shoulder, where the bullet pierced her body below the spinal column. Wildlife veterinarian Dr Peter Rodgers used a catheter to rinse the wound and check for infection. He was relieved when the tube went through easily without obstruction, indicating that the bullet’s path was clean and uncomplicated. Miraculously, her injuries were not serious and treatment with antibiotics should suffice for a full recovery To be on the safe side, Precious will be monitored during the weeks to come.

The story of Escape

After Precious had been cared for, helicopter pilot Benjamin Osmers skilfully directed the chopper towards the fourth and last rhino, Escape. She is a ‘special case’, not only because her wounds were known to be the most serious, but also because she had been shot once before. In 2011, Escape had taken a bullet in the thigh during a brutal incident which resulted in a young rhino being orphaned. Understandably, she fought hard with every ounce of her strength to resist the sedative dart, but eventually she surrendered to the anaesthetic, allowing the teams to treat her.

Once more, the injury was just under the spinal cord, but the bullet had not travelled straight this time and so the pathway for the cleansing fluid was more difficult to manage. The wound looked angrier than the others we had seen and we could tell from Roger’s frown that he wasn’t happy. After a few attempts, the fluid travelled along the bullet’s trajectory and a fountain of liquid exited on the other side of the spine, indicating that the bullet probably wasn’t still lodged inside Escape’s body. The X-ray team stepped in to be absolutely certain. Rogers was able to administer a heavy dose of painkiller and antibiotics before applying the antidote that saw Escape back on her feet in two minutes, giving us enough time to head to the safety of our vehicles. Fortunately, Premier, one of the other rhinos that had been shot, did not need medical attention as the bullet had travelled straight through his ear lobe. After initial care, his wound will heal naturally.

Treatment logistics

All four rhinos will be assessed visually on a daily basis to track their progress, while the team prepares for the next round of treatments. The procedures took place on 26 May and were carried out with military precision taking no more than 25 minutes to complete each session. The required logistics and planning for this level of co-operative expertise is a reflection of the passion and concern of the many people who have converged in aid of the injured animals.

For this degree of care to be possible, it requires organising flights, car hire, medical equipment, professional time, accommodation and many hours of administration. We thank all donors and hope you feel as much part of these procedures as those who are at the rhinos’ side.

Special thanks to Investec Rhino Lifeline, Chipembere Rhino Foundation, Forever Wild – Rhino Protection Initiative and Elandela Rhino Survivor Trust.

In November 1973 a young American paleontologist by the name of Donald Johansson made a startling discovery in the mountainous, inhospitable and wiltingly hot Harar region of Ethiopia. 

He noticed the fossilised shin bone of a primate and then, nearby, the lower end of a femur. When he put them together it was immediately clear to him from the way the knee area articulated that he was looking at the remains of an upright-walking hominid.

Later the bones were aged at more than three million years old, significantly predating other ancient specimens known at the time. That this caused a stir in scientific circles would be a woeful understatement. But the very next year, now back on site in the same remote wasteland, Johannson and his colleagues made a discovery that well and truly eclipsed the previous finding.

On the morning of 24 November Johansson and his colleagues were again out in that same hot, dusty landscape, when he decided on a hunch to revisit the bottom of a small gully. And there, just as he was about to give up, a fragment of an arm bone caught his eye and near it part of a small skull, and then some vertebrae and ribs, and part of a pelvis and a jaw, apparently all from one single hominid.

Celebration time. And with the Beatles’ ‘Lucy in the sky with diamonds’ blaring repeatedly from the camp tape recorder, Lucy became the given name for the small, chimp-like, but very evidently erect individual they had unearthed. In scientific terms she was dubbed Australopithecus afarensis, but it was as the three-million-year-old Lucy, a mere 1.1 metres tall and weighing only a supposed 29 kilograms, that she captured the imagination of the world. Even the subsequent discovery of older, more complete skeletons has not challenged her status.

Of course Lucy wasn’t the first Australopithecine to be found. Way back in 1947 Robert Broom and John Robinson discovered ‘Mrs Ples’, the owner of the most complete skull of A. africanus ever found in southern Africa.

The countless other hominid remains discovered throughout Africa have led us to understand that indisputably it was in African landscapes that our earliest ancestors split from the other great apes. It was exclusively here that evolution led us towards our anatomically modern form some 200 000 years ago. It was here, as told by Cheryl Lyn Dybas (see page 54), that we started to think in abstract terms about who we are and our place in t he world around us. And it was from here only some 80 000 years ago – a fraction of a second in the great swirl of time – that we set off into Europe and Asia on our r elentless conquest of the world.

Africa certainly spawned our kind and I wonder what role it will play in our future evolution? Who can say with anything but the most speculative insight where our next 200 000 years will take us? One thing is cer tain: whoever we become or turn into, we will not be the same. For whatever some fundamentalists may think, we are not the end ‘purpose’ of evolution. We are just a staging post along the route to who sknows where.

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Conservation-minded people seem to think that fencing in our big cats may be best for their safety. It seems entirely contradictory to me that people who are striving for the openness of borders and the development of transfrontier parks and conservation areas are among those who are supporting the notion of erecting fences and creating separate reserves in order to contain our wildlife. Transfrontier areas aim to extend park boundaries across countries and through human settlements in order to re-establish the ancient migration pathways throughout Africa, as the same time equipping people with the tools required to live harmoniously with the wild animals. It is a spectacular thought. Imagine an Africa of yesteryear – a wild continent, rich in resources, wonderful wildlife, cultural celebration and the sustainable living ethic of a greedless nation. Without the introduction of capital to the continent and the financial implications associated with success, it is possible to imagine that we would not be facing a conservation crisis such as the one that faces us today.

Wildlife professionals and activists have had to brainstorm conservation initiatives at an alarming rate, as most recently, the rhino, elephant and lion face demolition by humankind. However, what we face losing now is the second and third members of the Big Five. Despite being rejected by health and safety forums, the lion is the latest item on the menu in North America and the latest phoney fix to grace pharmacy shelves in South-East Asia. Two conglomerate countries that dominate world markets are after Africa’s King Cat. It is for this reason that the people who were so determined to open up old migration routes are now being forced to change tack and are insisting on the complete opposite. Lions are only safe behind the protective boundaries of national parks and game reserves.

Part of what makes lions such a remarkable success as a species was investigated in an article published by Africa Geographic in May – ‘Brawn and Brains’ by Anthony Ham. He observed that lions in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) were a lot calmer and more confident than their relatives beyond the border. Those lions living nearer to human settlements demonstrated fear and skittishness when approached by a vehicle, while the cats in the CKGR were not unnerved. It is an obvious association. Lions preying on livestock outside park boundaries are shot and killed, so they have developed a fear of anything human. Those who prey on game within reserves are not at risk of  attack by humans, thus they do not fear them.

When I asked Sabi Sand professional field guide Jason Kipling to comment on the ‘border-safety’ intelligence lions seem to possess, he related this level of association to the behaviour of elephants in Botswana. He told me that the wildlife conservationist Pat Dewil had reported that elephants demonstrated vastly different behaviour within just a few metres of a hunting zone. In the hunting area, they became fearful and anxious; when they moved just a few strides away into a ‘safe’ zone, they became calm and relaxed – a replica of the behaviour in lions, as described by Anthony Ham. This information plays a vital role in the movement to protect Africa’s lions. Jason is of the opinion that containing lions within the protective borders of national parks and reserves is the only way forward if we are to save the species from extinction due to human conflict and hunting. He emphasised that the risk of lions being killed in areas like the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, where livestock grazes nearby, is much higher due to the lack of fencing separating predator and prey. One would think that this activity is likely to result in poor quality lion-viewing due to the stresses experienced by animals that have been exposed to the trauma of shootings.

In more ways than one, the loss of lions will devastate Africa – that much is certain. It is not purely the job of ‘greenies’ to protect a species. It falls upon the shoulders of governments to promote the glory of their countries from a tourism perspective, in order to support economical demands. Jason provided me with some real insight into the not-so-welcome notion of physically segregating our wild lands and enclosing Africa’s biggest cat.

‘If any animal is to be kept within a boundary, we need to make sure that the balances are right in terms of numbers. National parks and private reserves probably have more lions than they can support, due to the fact that they promote business. However, if all the territories are not occupied and there is enough prey to support lions within the parks and reserves, there should be no resason for the cats to breach the fenced boundaries. In a nutshell: strict population control of both predator AND prey species needs to be practised if we want to successfully keep lions in fenced and protected game reserves.’

Carried out correctly, this controversial solution is what will save lions from extinction. In preparing this article, I have realised that ‘conservational fencing’ is not an oxymoron, and that conservation efforts are evolving as necessary to protect what needs to be protected.

The cats have reportedly broken into a boma overnight and killed 40 shoats (sheep/goats) and a cow. The loss is devastating to the family involved. In anticipation Big Life, a local conservation organisation, has already sent rangers to the spot to monitor the mood, and the latest message ignites a flurry of action at the headquarters.

I join the small group on the back of a Land Cruiser, a team of rangers involved in a fight with deep emotional triggers. In this pastoralist society livestock are wealth, and predators have the ability to wreck livelihoods. Retribution can be swift. The rangers joke nervously, the information so far has been vague and the outcome is unpredictable. We race through the dense bush on the lower slopes of the Chyulu Hills and accelerate as we hit the vast yellow plains below. After an hour of bum-bashing travel someone spots a distant human silhouette on a hill. Soggy black cotton-soil is an impenetrable barrier between us and from here we walk.

© Jeremy Goss

The bush is quiet after the roar of the car engine, boots crunch on volcanic soil. The rangers fan out over a gentle slope, no sign of life, human or animal. Eventually a shout from below, and a sad find. A young lioness, killed by Maasai spears. Her claws, tail and ears are gone, prizes for those most instrumental in her death. To the men involved, this killing is a form of the revenge, but also represents one less lion threatening their livestock. There is no right or wrong here, and as we turn the only hope is that the death of one lion will be the end of this incident. But movement in the distance signals that this is not over. A line of forty Maasai men marching across the dry land, heading in the direction in which the rest of the pride had fled.

We head back to the vehicles and the rangers move off in the same direction as the advancing men, parallel but maintaining distance. In the meantime Richard Bonham (head of Big Life) has arrived in his small plane and is swooping low over the plain, pretending to chase the lions and thus lure the hunting party in the wrong direction. We park on a nearby rise and watch as the scene unfolds. The hunters have skirted one side of a hill and the rangers are on the other. Both move in the same direction but are invisible to each other, we realise that a meeting is inevitable. I am with Sambu, a senior staff member of Big Life and excellent negotiator with an in-depth understanding of both sides of this story. We leave the vehicles and begin to climb the gentle slope. Suddenly, the silence is burst by a loud wail, followed by the collective voice of fifty men chanting and hollering. The few rangers that I am with take off at a run, I follow behind. We can’t see anything but the volume speaks of a serious confrontation. I stay below the ridge, not wanting to introduce the potential complication of my presence, and to be completely honest also not desperate to run into a melee of angry Maasai. Minutes clunk by. Slowly things seem to cool off. I risk joining the outskirts. The scene is awfully real, this is what conservation is about here. Forty Maasai, adorned in everything from Manchester United jerseys to full traditional regalia, face-off with the green fatigues of thirteen Big Life rangers. Every man on both sides is from the area. Sambu’s voice battles the presence of these proud men. I understand nothing but the body language needs no interpreting. He talks for the lives of the four remaining lions, and slowly I observe the tide begin to turn. As the ugly mess breaks up, faces emerge. I realise that this is not a group of testosterone driven young men, but a diverse group spanning teens to old men. This hunt was not for pride or bragging rights, it was a response to a terrible loss. Some of the hunters have moved off to the side, and the vocal core begins to shrink. Slowly, men begin to walk away, some return to pull their friends with them. Finally, they are all turned. The landscape breathes out.

Here, as across Africa, lines are emerging in the fight to conserve ecosystems – people that derive benefit from wildlife versus those that don’t. This is no longer a romantic story of an African people holding onto their traditional way of life and coexisting with predators. Livestock were traditionally valued in themselves, these days school fees and cell phone bills need to be paid, and the local definition of value is swimming out of focus. No matter how much you might like having a lion roaring in the distance, or are prepared to coexist with it, there is only so much loss that you will tolerate before it becomes too much. And then you retaliate. I challenge anyone to look me in the eye and tell me that you would do different. It’s the age-old mantra – cost versus benefit. This is not some abstract western economic concept to be bandied about by greybeards, it is the universal trade-off that drives decision-making, conscious or otherwise, in every living human. The notion that local communities need to derive value from wildlife is not new, but successful attainment of this goal appears to be elusive across the continent. Until each person sees the actual benefit of having wildlife around them, you cannot expect them to act other than in their own best interests, and if that means killing a lion then this should not come as a shock to our western conservationist sensitivities.

Late night visitor

Most of the travellers in my group had arrived on international flights that had only landed in Kenya in time for a late dinner at the lodge. I joined them and, as we were going around the table introducing ourselves, I noticed a pair of eyes as big as side plates staring at us from the darkness outside the window.

I jumped in fright, then realised that the gentle eyes belonged to a giraffe. I opened the window and our visitor gracefully manoeuvered its enormous head and long flexible neck through the window, inspecting our hair and our plates (neither appealed to her palate) until she found a bowl of pellets that the staff had apparently put there for just such a visit.

Surprise visits from giraffes are not rare here (we had a similar visit the following morning at breakfast). That’s what makes Giraffe Manor one of my top choices for accommodation in Nairobi.

Giraffe alarms

As happens at most five-star hotels, the staff at Giraffe Manor leave chocolates on your pillow at turn-down time. But here they also place grain pellets along the windowsills of the top-floor bedrooms to entice the long-necked visitors to act as morning wake-up calls. Being woken by a giraffe is unbeatable, even better than the soft ‘Jambo’ murmured softly by the Maasai butler as he wakes you (with coffee and biscuits) at the tented camps in the East African bush.

Kissing giraffes

If you know about Giraffe Manor you may have heard that you can get quite intimate with the six endangered Rothschild giraffes roaming the grounds. But before I tell you about kissing a giraffe, let me explain a few things about giraffe tongues. Some 45 cm (18 inches) in length, the tongue has a leathery, resilient texture, with a covering of thick slime to protect it when the giraffe strips the leaves off thorny acacia bushes.

The giraffes here are not picky about how their food pellets are delivered. You have choices:

* You can place your offering onto the giraffe’s tongue, which it will curl into a perfect pellet-receiving cup.

*You can throw the pellets on the ground

*Or, my favourite – you can hold the pellet between your lips, inviting a giraffe kiss.
(I understand this is not for everyone.)

Tell us, would you kiss a giraffe?

If you are still undecided whether you would do ‘it’ or not, this close-up photo of me kissing a giraffe, tongue and all, may help you decide. Let me know once you have decided. Would you kiss a giraffe or not?

Other reasons to stay at Giraffe Manor

Although the giraffes are the star attraction at the manor, the resident warthogs are almost as lovable. They quarrel over pellets on the ground that the giraffes have missed and mock charge the lodge’s dog, which teases and chases them for fun.

A warthog feeding. Giraffe Manor’s dog has not yet (as far as I am aware) been seriously injured by the warthog’s sharp horns.

Giraffe Manor is one of Nairobi’s most expensive accommodation options. If you choose to stay elsewhere, you can still see the giraffes (and kiss and feed them) by going to the Giraffe Centre, adjacent to the lodge. I would vote both the animal encounters at the Giraffe Centre and Giraffe Manor as one of the most delightful in the world.