The rhino had been eluding us all morning. Theo, the ranger riding in the spotter’s seat on the front of the game-viewing Landie, finally spotted their tracks in the fine dust of the dirt road. The Zululand bushveld bristled in the pre-dawn light as a myriad of birds advertised to the world that a new day had dawned.

Killing the engine, Brendan grabbed his no-nonsense ranger’s rifle and asked us hopefully if we felt like tracking them on foot. After a flash of apprehension, we all nodded enthusiastically and huddled around as Brendan examined the spoor. "They’re about 30 minutes old," he said, glancing towards the rising sun in the direction they’d moved. Walking gingerly in single file through the dense thorn trees we’d stop every now and again to listen; straining our ears for the irritated grunt of the protective male, annoyed at these pesky two-legged beasts trying to follow him.

A few strands of grass thrown into the cool morning air suggested that our scent was blowing right towards the elusive rhino, giving our presence away. After circling gingerly around the thicket of bush we eventually found ourselves back where we started, the rhino standing their ground somewhere in the ring of thorn trees.

"There’re some buffalo around as well," mused Brendan, examining a pile of fresh dung. In the dense bush, about the last thing you want to do is surprise the notoriously bad-tempered buffalo. Or as Brendan so eloquently put it: "If you bump into a few buffalo you’ll feel the adrenaline running down your leg."

With the sun climbing higher and the raucous calling of a Natal Francolin exploding in the trees around us, we realised that the game was up and made our way back to the lodge.

Water in a dry land
Cool running water is probably about the last element I would associate with this dry landscape of aloes, fever trees and thorn bushes. Heat perhaps and dust definitely, but surely not water? But apart from the muddy waterholes dotting the reserve, where pompous warthog drink cautiously on one side while you sip your morning coffee on the other, water seems to be a common thread that flows throughout Thanda.

Situated on 5000 hectares of prime Zululand bushveld, it has taken over two years and R100-million to transform this once scarred cattle farm into one of the finest eco-reserves in the area, boasting nine luxurious 'bush villas'.

The Thanda wellness centre offers a range of holistic therapies.
Each of the nine private suites offers its own rim-flow plunge pool, where you can languidly immerse yourself while enjoying the panoramic views of the bushveld. From the private pool to the enormous egg-shaped granite baths as well as indoor and outdoor showers big enough for two, you could spend your entire time at Thanda in water if you so wished. Not very eco-sensitive though, mind you…

The word ‘villa’ might conjure images of gaudy Italian opulence of black marbled counters and crystal chandeliers, but the bush villas at Thanda are the epitome of understated luxury. The decor was done by the trendy Artichoke of Johannesburg and is both luxurious and stylish, but with a healthy respect for the glorious natural surrounds. A massive pebbled fireplace commands the room and divides the bedroom from the lounge, while the entire villa flows out onto the wooden deck overlooking the reserve. Leading off the deck, each villa boasts a private day-bed under a thatched lapa where you can spend lazy afternoons staring into the distance, or your lover's eyes...

Romance of a bygone era
For this really is a place for lovers. The very name of the reserve — Thanda — means 'love' in Zulu, and whether it’s the prospect of midnight skinny dips in the plunge pool or lazy baths staring out over bushveld, honeymooners and lovers will be in heaven at Thanda. There’s very little chance of catching malaria in this part of South Africa, but the mosquito nets draped over the four-poster bed gives each villa an undeniable ‘Out of Africa’ romance.

Each bush villa boasts a private plunge pool.
All meals at Thanda are served at the main lodge, but if you can’t bear to tear yourself away from your little piece of paradise, the good news is that you won’t have to! Your gourmet meals can be served in your villa, on your private wooden deck or in your secluded boma. Although you’d miss out on the game drives, for the duration of your stay you’d never have to see another person if you didn't choose to. Just you, the bush and your significant other.

And that, for me, is the magic of places like Thanda; undoubtedly one of the most special corners of South Africa. Cool mornings atop the Land Rover scanning the bush for the Big Five (the reserve has recently been stocked with over R7-million worth of game, including three lions, with more game arriving all the time) is undoubtedly exciting, but game-viewing is just one aspect of spending time in the bush.

For me it’s the sheer serenity of the outdoors that gets me going back. Those warm, blossom-scented afternoons spent staring out over bushveld that stretches so far into the distance your eyes eventually lose focus. And somewhere out there in the bush, roaming free where cattle once scarred the landscape, are a few bashful rhino.

Whether it was the shrill Natal Francolin that gave us away, our clumsy tracking or perhaps just the very scent of our human bodies, we never did find those rhino. Maybe next time.