The
trumpeting of elephants just a few yards away seemed to shake the canvas sides
of our tent. Soon thereafter, other big scary animals that I couldn't identify
joined the chorus as night shrouded our camp during a recent safari. Any thoughts
of getting up in the night to search for a bathroom were quickly wiped from my
mind.
About
a decade ago, my husband and I parted with about $10,000 to pay for the
once-in-a-lifetime trip to South Africa, which included several days in Krueger
National Park and a camera safari out into the bush to see amazing animals.
We
will never forget the experience, nor will we forget being squished into the
tightest seats my long legs have ever endured for the 22-hour-plus flight from
Los Angeles, via New York, to arrive in Johannesburg and then climb onto a bus
to ride two more hours to the park. Preparing for the trip, we were required to
receive a series of shots for all sorts of maladies, including malaria and
cholera.
While
the trip was worth all the costs and inconveniences, we concluded it was
probably the end of our safari days. That was until we heard about the
"Roar and Snore" at the San Diego Zoo's Safari Park in Escondido.
It
was my kind of safari: Drive south from Bakersfield only about 215 miles (3½ hours
if the traffic gods like you); see all sorts of cool animals; no exotic shots
or medications required; and just one night of roughing it. (Campground
accommodations vary, starting with tents with no beds and going up to the
"premium" tents that have queen-sized beds. That was my choice. The
older I get, the higher off the ground I sleep.)
As
instructed, we arrived at the Safari Park at 4 p.m. on a Friday in March.
Parking for the Roar and Snore was close to the gate and park staff scrambled
to our car to collect our backpacks, which they delivered to our tent in the
small campground adjacent to the elephant enclosure. (Pack simply for this
safari. No food is allowed. Just pack an overnight change of clothes and
"necessities," which I highly recommend includes a flashlight.)
We
lounged around and shopped in the safari store while the park was cleared of
daytime guests. At about 5 p.m., the safari began with a guided march through
exhibits and animal enclosures until we reached our campgrounds.
We
were told to take a few minutes to settle into our tents; dinner was being
served at 5:30. We were to report to the dining area, which overlooked a
breathtaking view of giraffes and gazelles that seemed as curious about us as
we were of them.
Dinner
might not win a culinary award, but by then I was hungry and the salads,
hamburgers, barbecue meat, macaroni and cheese, and hotdogs looked mighty good.
The buffet also included vegetarian offerings. Plus, there was a bar. I already
had tested out the bed -- HARD. I realized a nice glass of wine might make the
night easier to take.
I
was just wiping the ketchup off my chin when the call went out to begin
assembling for the night-time walking tour. I may have paid thousands of
dollars for an African safari, but few of the animals in Africa came as close
up as the animals, including a majestic lion, on this evening stroll through
the park.
It
was now pitch dark when we circled back to the campground and were invited to
go to the fire pit in the dining area. It was time to make S'mores, eat popcorn
and drink hot chocolate, while guides recounted tales about the park and its
inhabitants.
Lights
out for me arrived at about 10 p.m. Most everyone else fell into their sleeping
bags or beds by midnight, leaving the animals to serenade us to sleep. The
tents came equipped with bottled water and heaters (or fans) depending on the
seasonal need. Besides the absence of a bathroom, we had most of the comforts
of home.
The
wake-up call the next morning came before 7 a.m., so we could pack and be ready
for a hearty breakfast buffet that included eggs, sausage, biscuits, fruit,
pancakes, cereal and (thank God!) coffee.
The
timing of our safari was lucky. The next morning was the opening day of the
one-month "Butterfly Jungle" at the park. This annual event gives
park visitors a unique opportunity to observe more than 30 species of
butterflies hailing from Africa, Asia, and Central and South America.
"Snorers" who did not dawdle over breakfast were let into the
butterfly enclosure before the park opened at 9 a.m. for an exclusive visit.
The
Roar and Snore officially ended when the park gates opened at 9 a.m. But a
simple stamp on our hands allowed us to enjoy the park on Saturday as regular
visitors. And, as an added bonus, we received discounts on that day's tours.
We
hopped onto the bed of an open truck for the two-hour caravan safari, which
included feeding giraffes and seeing the 3-week-old Southern White Rhino calf,
Kayode, and his mother, Kacy.
All
and all, for just $648, which included the $120 charge for the two caravan
tickets, and a tank of gas, it was a pretty darn good safari and a lot closer
to home.
This
article appeared in The Bakersfield Californian on May 17, 2013.
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