The 19 400-hectare Camdeboo National Park is unique in South Africa encompassing some of the most rugged and spectacular Karoo-mountain landscapes, a large freshwater dam and it almost entirely surrounds the historic town of Graaff-Reinet.
South Africa: Wildlife Watching at Addo in the Eastern Cape
🐘 South Africa: Wildlife Watching at Addo in the Eastern Cape
🌩️ A Fresh Start After the Storm
The previous night’s storm had been a proper belter — the kind that rattles the windows and keeps you half-awake listening to it hammer the roof of the TiPi. But by morning it had done us an enormous favour. It had swept the clouds clean out of the Eastern Cape sky and left us with one of those glorious African mornings that make you feel genuinely glad to be alive: sharp blue skies, very little humidity to speak of, and that lovely freshly-washed smell in the air that you only get after a good tropical downpour. The plan for the day was simple enough — to drive ourselves around Addo Elephant National Park for the full day and see what we could find. We’d read enough about the place to know that early morning is prime time for game viewing, when the animals are at their most active before the heat of the day sets in. So we made a proper effort to be at the park gates for 7 am when they opened. Naturally, as anyone who has ever tried to get two people organised and out the door in the African bush will know, things didn’t quite go to plan. A bit of faff here, a misplaced camera lens there, and before we knew it we were pulling up at the gates at around 7:30 am. Still, we were comfortably ahead of the main wave of day visitors, and the roads inside the park were refreshingly clear. We counted that an early-ish start rather than a disaster.
🗺️ Getting Your Bearings: A Park That Actually Makes Sense
One of the first things that struck us about Addo — and this genuinely made a pleasant change — is how well signposted the whole place is. We’ve been to national parks on various continents where the signage appears to have been designed specifically to confuse visitors, and where the map they hand you at the gate is so vague as to be essentially decorative. Addo is nothing like that. The map we received when we entered the park was clear, detailed and actually useful, which in our experience puts it in a fairly select group. The roads, too, were a revelation. A good portion of the internal road system is tarmac — actual tarmac, smooth enough to be comfortable — and even the gravel sections are well graded and maintained. There were very few potholes to speak of, and the corrugations that turn so many African park roads into a dental appointment on wheels were largely absent. It all added up to a genuinely enjoyable driving experience.
The other thing that immediately caught our attention was the colour of the place. Addo is extraordinarily green. Now, we’ve visited a fair few African national parks over the years, and many of them — particularly in the drier regions — are essentially dust bowls punctuated by the occasional waterhole, where the vegetation has been hammered into submission by drought and the sheer pressure of large animals. Addo is the complete opposite. The vegetation here consists of dense, leafy bush — a result of the unique Eastern Cape climate and the park’s position within what ecologists classify as the Albany Thicket biome, a thick, semi-succulent scrubland that is found almost nowhere else on Earth and that is home to an extraordinary range of plant species. The flip side of all this verdant loveliness, of course, is that the bush is extremely thick and very difficult to see through — which means that wildlife viewing requires a good deal more patience and a sharper eye than it would in the open grasslands of, say, the Serengeti. An elephant can be standing ten metres from the road and you simply wouldn’t know it until it moved. But we much preferred the lush green setting to yet another dust bowl, and the rolling hills of the park — some of them reaching quite impressive heights — gave the whole place a dramatic, almost romantic quality, with spectacular views opening up at various points along the route. We loved it. Full stop.
We had entered through the North Gate, which is Addo’s main entrance and the one where you’ll find all the park’s key facilities grouped together — the shop, the restaurant, accommodation options run by SANParks, and the main reception. The plan we’d loosely settled on was to spend the morning working our way around the road loops in the northern section of the park, then after lunch push south through the middle section and spend the afternoon exploring the southern loops before exiting via the Matyholweni Gate, which is the southern entrance near Colchester on the N2, not far from what locals still call Port Elizabeth but which has officially been known as Gqeberha since 2021. The park runs roughly 40 kilometres from its northernmost to its southernmost point, which makes it very manageable as a day visit — tight enough that you can cover a decent amount of ground without feeling rushed, and large enough that you’re unlikely to see the same stretch of road twice.
🦓 The Northern Loops: Zebras, Kudu and the Art of Patience
As we drove the northern loops in the morning sunshine, the windy conditions giving the acacia trees a good rustling, we began to pick up wildlife in the pleasant, unhurried way that Addo tends to deliver it. The park is not a place for the sort of breathless big-five-spotting that dominates conversation at some of the more heavily visited southern African parks. Addo doesn’t have the sheer variety of mammal species you’d find in Kruger or the Okavango Delta — the list of large mammal species is relatively modest by comparison. What it does have, in abundance, is accessibility, excellent habitat and a remarkably high density of certain species that makes encounters virtually guaranteed if you give the place a few hours of your time. On those northern loops we came across good numbers of Burchell’s zebra — the most commonly seen subspecies in southern Africa, with its distinctive shadow striping between the main black and white stripes — along with handsome kudu, the males carrying their magnificently spiralled horns with considerable dignity, and red hartebeest, which always look to us as though someone designed an antelope in a hurry and got the proportions slightly wrong, but which are in fact superbly adapted runners capable of reaching 70 kilometres per hour when pressed.
And then, at a waterhole near the beginning of the northern loop, we had our first proper encounter of the day. There, working his way steadily and methodically around the trunk of an acacia tree, was a large bull elephant — an enormous fellow, his hide the colour of old pewter, his tusks stained golden-brown at the tips. He was entirely unbothered by our presence, as Addo’s elephants famously tend to be. The park’s herd has been in close contact with vehicles since the park was first established in 1931, and over the intervening decades the elephants have become remarkably relaxed around cars, treating them with the sort of benign indifference that a Londoner extends to a pigeon. We cut the engine and sat watching him for a good few minutes as he stripped bark from the acacia with the extraordinary precision that elephant trunks — controlled by some 40,000 individual muscles — allow, before moving on at his own unhurried pace.
🪲 The Dung Beetle Diaries (and a Brief Encounter with a Millipede Army)
Before we’d even entered the park that morning, we’d had a good laugh at a roadside sign that Addo displays with considerable earnestness: a warning to drivers about dung beetles crossing the road. Now, we’ve seen crossing signs for deer, for penguins, for moose, for kangaroos — but dung beetles was a new one. Addo takes its dung beetles very seriously, as well it might. The park is one of the few places in the world where the flightless dung beetle — Circellium bacchus, since you ask — still survives in reasonable numbers. It’s a remarkable creature: the largest dung beetle in the world, pitch black, the size of a large conker, and entirely unable to fly because its wing cases have fused together over millennia of evolution. The species was once widespread across South Africa’s Eastern Cape but has been wiped out across most of its former range, largely because it needs pristine habitat free of insecticides and with a good supply of large mammal dung to work with. Addo, with its thriving elephant population and strict no-pesticide policy, is now one of its last strongholds.
Anyway, on the way up to a viewpoint on the high ground overlooking the park, we spotted our very first dung beetle of the day on the road — alas not pushing a ball of dung, just ambling about looking important. I did my civic duty and steered around him with considerably more care than I extend to most road obstacles in day-to-day life. We stopped, naturally, and took photos. Quite a lot of photos, actually. More photos of a single beetle than any sensible person would take, but there we were.
As we climbed higher towards the viewpoint, we encountered an entirely different sort of road hazard. A large, black millipede with vivid red legs appeared on the tarmac ahead of us — a genuine unit, four to five inches long, going about its business with tremendous purposefulness. We stopped for a photo. Then another appeared. Then several more. By the time we were near the top of the hill, the millipedes had become so numerous that avoiding them was requiring the kind of focused, weaving driving that you normally associate with an advanced police pursuit course. The species we were looking at was almost certainly the African giant black millipede — Archispirostreptus gigas — which can reach up to 38 centimetres in length and is entirely harmless, feeding on decomposing plant matter, but which in large numbers on a narrow road creates a navigational challenge of some note. Eventually, the road ahead was quite literally carpeted in them — thousands of the things — and there was simply nothing to be done except proceed very slowly and accept the inevitable. The view from the top, when we finally reached it, was quite genuinely outstanding: a vast panorama of rolling bush and distant hills that made the millipede carnage entirely worthwhile.
On the way back down we encountered a final little drama. Right in the middle of the road, utterly dwarfed by the surrounding landscape, sat a tiny tortoise — a Leopard tortoise, we suspected, which is the largest tortoise species found in southern Africa and can live for well over a century, though this particular specimen looked as though it was still in the early chapters of its life. Karen was out of the car before I’d fully stopped, in the manner she always is when small animals require assistance. The tortoise, displaying more common sense than we’d given it credit for, took one look at Karen advancing towards it and scuttled off into the bush at a speed that suggested it didn’t require any assistance whatsoever. An independent sort.
🐘 The Main Event: Elephants at the Waterhole
We were heading back towards the main camp for a much-needed coffee and a sandwich when the day delivered its centrepiece. About five kilometres into the loop road that swings towards the main dam and its large waterhole, we noticed a cluster of cars stopped ahead of us. In our experience, stopped cars in a national park mean only one of three things: an animal on or near the road, a flat tyre, or someone trying to consult a paper map without admitting they’re lost. This, as we quickly discovered, was emphatically the first option.
Right alongside the road — within a matter of metres — were approximately twenty elephants, a mixed group that included several cows, younger males and, most wonderfully, a number of calves, the small ones still at that stage where they look comically oversized for their legs and haven’t quite worked out what to do with their trunks. We switched the engine off and waited. Some of the group began to cross the road, processing past us at the sort of unhurried pace that underlines just how thoroughly at ease Addo’s elephants are with the presence of vehicles. Several of them came within a few feet of where we were parked — close enough that we could hear the deep, resonant rumbling they use to communicate with one another, a sound that you feel as much as hear — which was, if we’re honest, both mildly nerve-wracking and absolutely thrilling in equal measure. In the middle distance, beyond this group, we could make out not one but three further herds of similar size, all moving in the same direction, all converging on the same point. The waterhole was calling.
When we reached the waterhole, the scene that greeted us was one of the most extraordinary pieces of wildlife watching we have done anywhere. There were already two substantial groups of elephants in and around the water, and more were arriving steadily from the surrounding bush. The ones in the water were in a state of absolute, uninhibited joy. Some were submerging themselves up to the neck and simply wallowing with an expression of profound contentment. Others were actively fighting — not in any dangerous way, but in the boisterous, shoving, trunk-wrestling fashion that young male elephants engage in when they’re playing. There was a certain amount of reproductive activity going on among the adults that we shall describe as lively and leave at that. Around the fringes of the waterhole, other groups waited their turn with a patience that was rather touching — orderly queuing being, apparently, not purely a British trait. And as we sat watching, we could see additional elephants emerging from the tree-line and beginning to trot, actually trot, down the hillside towards the water, their excitement visibly increasing as they caught the scent of it. Elephants running towards something they want is one of the great sights in nature — all that bulk moving with unexpected grace and purpose. We could have sat there for the rest of the day without any complaints whatsoever.
But we felt it was only right to share, so after a very decent stretch of watching we pulled out of the spot and let other vehicles take our place. We hadn’t gone more than a kilometre down the road when we came across a second waterhole with another group of elephants attending to their ablutions. We stopped briefly — it would have been rude not to — before pressing on.
On the road back to the main camp, Karen suddenly issued the instruction to pull over, using the tone of voice that admits no argument. She had spotted, there on the road ahead of us, a dung beetle in full operation: rolling a ball of dung along the tarmac with tremendous effort and at what you’d have to call a decent clip for a beetle. This, we realised, was the redemption of the earlier sighting — the full dung beetle experience we’d been promised by the park’s signage. The beetle was working enormously hard, pushing the ball with its hind legs in the characteristic backwards-walking fashion that dung beetles use, navigating by the polarisation of sunlight (a fact that was only properly confirmed by scientists in 2013, the beetles having been doing it successfully for millions of years before anyone thought to check). Just as he reached the edge of the road, a second beetle emerged from the grass and made a direct run for the ball, attempting the sort of hostile takeover that you’d normally only see in the City of London. We watched with considerable emotional investment as the original beetle defended his prize vigorously and successfully. We cheered, and we mean that sincerely. Hooray.
☕ Coffee, the Hide and the Southern Loops
By the time we’d been driving for around four hours, the coffee situation had become fairly urgent. We pulled into the main camp, which has a perfectly decent restaurant and a small shop, and sat outside with large cups of something restorative while we gathered our thoughts. Refreshed, we walked down to the waterhole hide that sits right within the main camp — an underground viewing facility that puts you at eye level with the waterhole through a series of windows set into the earth bank, giving you a quite different and rather intimate perspective on the elephants that use it. There were several elephants at this waterhole when we visited, working through the water methodically, drinking and showering themselves with their trunks. The waterhole itself is shallower than the dam we’d visited earlier in the day, so the elephants were limited to ankle-deep paddling rather than full immersion, which made them noticeably more sedate — none of the frolicking and wrestling we’d seen earlier. Still wonderful, but a different mood entirely.
After the hide, we drove south to Jack’s Picnic Site — a pleasant, shaded spot roughly in the middle of the park — for lunch, before embarking on the afternoon loops through the southern section of Addo. The southern half of the park has a markedly different character to the north, with the terrain becoming more dramatic as you move into the higher ground, and the views — particularly from the elevated sections of the road — genuinely extraordinary. At one point on the southern ridge, we were able to see all the way to the Indian Ocean, glittering in the afternoon light on the horizon. It was, we both agreed, a remarkable thing to be looking at the sea from inside a national park that is home to elephants and lions.
The afternoon game viewing was quieter than the morning — afternoons in African parks generally are, with the animals having retreated into shade during the hottest part of the day. We picked up a solitary Cape buffalo lurking in the bush with the particular air of menace that Cape buffalo do so well, along with more zebra, more hartebeest and the occasional elephant drifting through the vegetation. But it didn’t matter a jot. The joy of Addo in the afternoon is simply being there, driving slowly through beautiful scenery, watching the light change on the hills and the bush, and feeling the particular contentment that comes from a day very well spent. By mid-afternoon we were done, and we exited through the southern Matyholweni Gate, heading back to the TiPi Camp with cameras full and spirits considerably elevated.
About Addo Elephant Park
Addo Elephant National Park, national park in Eastern province, South Africa. It has an area of 208 square miles (540 square km) and consists of two sections connected by a corridor. The southern part of the park lies in the Sundays River valley south of the Suurberg Range, north of Port Elizabeth, and was established as Addo Elephant National Park in 1931. It is largely covered with dense, impenetrable evergreen scrub and preserves a band of about 200 elephants, remnant of a great herd that roamed the area before an extermination campaign was started by landowners in 1919. It is also the habitat of scarce Cape buffalo, several species of transplanted antelope, black rhinoceroses from Kenya, and numerous small birds, mammals, and reptiles.
The northern part of the park consists of deep ravines and rounded hills in the Winterhoek Mountains and was originally established in 1985 as Zuurberg National Park. It is located 7 miles (12 km) north of the original Addo Elephant National Park, with which it was amalgamated in 1995, thereby increasing the amount of land available for elephant and black rhinoceros conservation. Headquarters are at Port Elizabeth.
Planning Your Visit to Addo Elephant Park
📍 Location: R335, Addo, Eastern Cape, South Africa
| 🕖 Opening Times | 🌐 Website |
|---|---|
| Daily, 7:00 AM – 7:00 PM (main camp gates) | www.sanparks.org/parks/addo |
| 📞 Phone | |
|---|---|
| +27 (0)42 233 8600 | addo@sanparks.org |
🎟️ Entry Fees
| Category | SA Citizens | SA Residents | Foreign Nationals |
|---|---|---|---|
| Adult | R100 | R152 | R392 |
| Child (2–11) | R50 | R76 | R196 |
| Under 2s | Free | Free | Free |
ℹ️ Notes: Fees are per person per day. Wild Card holders enter free. The park is open year-round and wildlife viewing is excellent in all seasons as animals congregate around waterholes. Book accommodation well in advance, especially during South African school holidays.
🚗 Getting There
| By Road from Port Elizabeth (Gqeberha) | Take the N10 north-east from the city, then join the R335 towards Addo village. The main park entrance is approximately 72 km from the city centre and takes around 1 hour by car. |
|---|---|
| By Road from Cape Town | The N2 east runs the length of the Garden Route; turn north at Humansdorp onto the R335 towards Addo. Total distance approximately 750 km (around 7–8 hours). |
| By Air | The nearest airport is Chief Dawid Stuurman International Airport (PLZ) in Gqeberha, served by flights from Johannesburg and Cape Town. Car hire is available at the airport and is the most practical way to reach the park. |
| Shuttle & Tours | Several operators in Gqeberha run guided day trips and transfers to Addo, useful for visitors without a hire car. |
| Note | There is no public bus or rail service to the park gate. A private vehicle, hire car or organised tour is essential. |
The Best Time to Visit the Eastern Cape
The Eastern Cape occupies a unique position in South Africa’s climate map. Straddling the subtropical east coast and the drier interior, it receives rain year-round rather than in a single defined wet season, and its temperatures stay moderate enough that no month is truly off-limits. The Wild Coast in the north-east is warm and lush throughout the year, the semi-arid Karoo hinterland bakes in summer and freezes on winter nights, and the southern coast around Gqeberha (Port Elizabeth) and the Garden Route fringe enjoys a mild, temperate climate more reminiscent of the Mediterranean than tropical Africa. The result is a destination that rewards different kinds of travellers at different times of year, with each season offering its own distinct character.
🌞 Summer — November to February
Summer on the Eastern Cape coast is warm, humid and punctuated by heavy afternoon thunderstorms, particularly along the Wild Coast and the hinterland. Daytime temperatures along the coast sit between 25°C and 33°C, climbing higher inland across the Karoo, and the landscape is at its most lush and green following the spring rains. The sea reaches its warmest temperatures of the year, making Chintsa, Coffee Bay and the beaches around Port Alfred genuinely inviting, and whale sharks have been recorded off the coast from December into March. Sea turtles nest along the remote Wild Coast beaches through summer, and the region’s coastal forests are alive with birdlife at its most active.
The downside is the humidity, which can be stifling on still days, and the afternoon storms, which roll in quickly and can disrupt outdoor activities. Summer is also peak domestic holiday season in South Africa, meaning the coast fills with local families from Johannesburg and beyond between late December and mid-January, pushing up accommodation prices and making popular beaches noticeably busy.
Packing: Lightweight, breathable clothing in natural fabrics, a swimsuit and reef-safe sunscreen, a compact waterproof jacket or poncho for afternoon storms, insect repellent, a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, and a dry bag for beach days.
🍂 Autumn — March to May
Autumn is widely regarded as one of the most pleasant times to visit the Eastern Cape. The humidity and storms of summer ease off, temperatures settle into a comfortable range of roughly 20°C to 30°C along the coast, and the landscape retains much of its summer greenery before the dry months arrive. Visitor numbers drop considerably from the December–January peak, accommodation rates ease, and the region’s game reserves — Addo Elephant National Park in particular — become noticeably quieter and easier to explore.
Game viewing improves as autumn progresses and vegetation begins to thin, making it easier to spot elephants, buffalo and the Cape’s iconic fynbos-adapted antelope from open vehicles. March can still carry the humidity of late summer, but by April the air has typically cleared, and May offers some of the most reliably clear, still days of the year along the coast. The Wild Coast hiking trails are in excellent condition, and the sea remains warm enough for swimming well into April.
Packing: Layerable clothing for warm days and cooler evenings, a light waterproof jacket, comfortable walking shoes or trail runners, sunscreen, insect repellent and a pair of binoculars for game reserves.
❄️ Winter — June to August
Winter in the Eastern Cape is dry, clear and considerably cooler, particularly at night and in the elevated Karoo interior, where temperatures can drop below freezing after dark. Along the coast, daytime highs sit between 18°C and 22°C — mild enough for walking and wildlife activities but chilly enough to require a fleece or light jacket, especially in the morning and evening. The lack of rain and the thinning vegetation make this the best season for game viewing in the region’s malaria-free reserves, particularly Addo, where elephants congregate around permanent water sources and sightings are reliably excellent.
The Wild Coast is at its most dramatic in winter, with strong southwesterly swells producing world-class surf breaks around Morgan Bay and Nahoon Beach in East London, and the coastal hiking trails are cool and comfortable underfoot. The annual Sardine Run — one of nature’s great wildlife spectacles, in which billions of sardines migrate north along the coast, drawing dolphins, sharks, gannets and whales into a feeding frenzy — begins in June, making the KwaZulu-Natal border region of the northern Wild Coast a remarkable destination for divers and snorkellers willing to take the cold water in their stride.
Packing: Warm layers including a fleece and a windproof outer jacket, thermal base layers for Karoo nights, sturdy waterproof walking boots, gloves and a hat for game drives, a wetsuit or thick wetsuit for diving or surfing, and sunscreen even in the cooler months.
🌸 Spring — September to October
Spring brings warming temperatures, sporadic showers and a spectacular burst of colour across the Eastern Cape’s fynbos and coastal meadows. Daytime highs climb from around 18°C in early September to 26°C or more by late October, and the landscape transitions quickly from the dry browns of winter to the lush greens of the growing season. Southern right whales, which congregate along South Africa’s southern coast from August into November, are at their most active and visible during September and October, often approaching close to shore along the bays around Plettenberg Bay at the western edge of the province and Port Elizabeth further east.
Baby animals begin appearing in Addo and the private reserves during spring, and the birdlife along the coast and in the Valley of Desolation near Graaff-Reinet reaches a seasonal peak as migrants arrive from the north. Tourist numbers are building but have not yet reached the summer peak, accommodation rates are reasonable, and the balance of good weather, wildlife activity and manageable crowds makes September and October a strong choice for almost any kind of Eastern Cape trip.
Packing: Versatile layers for mornings and evenings that can be shed through the day, a light waterproof jacket for spring showers, comfortable walking shoes, binoculars for whale and game watching, sunscreen and a sun hat for increasingly warm afternoons.
Overall Best Time to Visit
The Eastern Cape’s year-round appeal makes it a genuine all-seasons destination, but the clearest recommendation points to the period from late May to early October — the dry winter and early spring — as the most rewarding time for the majority of visitors. Game viewing in Addo and the malaria-free reserves is at its best when vegetation is sparse and animals concentrate around water, the Wild Coast and Garden Route fringe are bright, clear and uncrowded, and the Sardine Run adds a wildlife spectacle unlike anything else on the continent. For those whose priority is warm-water swimming, sea turtle encounters or the lush green drama of the Wild Coast forests, December to March carries its own considerable rewards, provided the heat and afternoon storms are planned for. September and October offer an excellent middle ground — warming, blooming, with whales offshore and baby wildlife in the reserves — and tend to combine the best of both halves of the year without the extremes of either.
Where to stay
TiPi Bush Camp
TiPi bush camp prides itself on being an environmentally friendly, eco-tourist destination that offers a unique setting in the Addo Afrique estate game reserve, bordering the Addo Elephant National Park.
Three large 6.3-metre diameter TiPi’s, based on the American Indian style can each accommodate 4 people on a self-catering, un-serviced basis. All you need to bring is your food, toiletries and clothing. Don’t forget your drinks, cameras and binoculars.
Included are bedding, towelling, crockery, cutlery, sink, cleaning equipment, twin gas cooker, gas fridge, double bed and double “sleeper couch” per TiPi. The “sleeper couch” separates to two single beds if required. You will need to light the gas fridge on arrival. Neat ablutions in close proximity to the TiPi’s provide glass showers with hot & cold water, wash hand basins, flushing toilets and communal sinks. All hot water and lighting is by solar. There is no electricity on the site.
Each TiPi is secluded and offers beautiful panoramic views over a valley teeming with game. For the energetic, there are numerous walks within Addo Afrique, where you may roam un-escorted through a wide variety of non predatory game like Ostrich, Giraffe, Kudu, Eland, Bushbuck, Nyala, Impala etc. Fuel and shopping facilities are found at Paterson 8 km to the east and Addo village 28 km to the west.
The main gate to the Addo Elephant National Park is 15 km to the west. All roads are tarmac surfaces. By either of two routes, Port Elizabeth city centre and airport is 80 km to the South-South-West.
Gorah Elephant Camp
Gorah Elephant Camp is situated in the malaria-free Addo Elephant National Park. It features a spacious swimming pool and an open patio offering views of the water hole. Free Wi-Fi is available.
Each tented luxury suite has a private deck with panoramic views and plush interiors. It comes equipped with tea-and-coffee-making facilities and the en suite bathroom has a shower with free toiletries.
Meals are served in the dining room at the colonial Gorah House and in an enclosed outdoor area around the fire, where guests can enjoy a gourmet barbecue and African cuisine. High tea is served every afternoon.
Addo Main Camp
The popular main rest camp of the park offers a wide variety of accommodation units to suit all tastes and plenty of activities to keep visitors busy.
A unique feature is the waterhole lookout point, floodlit at night, within the camp as well as the underground hide, allowing close encounters with wildlife at the waterhole. The evenings are punctuated with the calls of lion, spotted hyena and jackal while francolin and bokmakierie herald each dawn. Accommodation units are situated within easy walking distance of each other and of facilities such as the swimming pool, restaurant and shop. Bookings are made through central reservations.
- Tel: +27(0) 42 233 8600
- Email: addoenquiries@sanparks.org
- Accommodations
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