SAFARIPLANNER
Satara Rest Camp, Kruger National Park, 5.30am. I’m standing outside our two-person rondavel, surveying the evidence of last night’s drama. The verandah – including chairs, table and kitchen sink – is coated in a drift of what, in the dawn half-light, appears to be fine-grained sand. “Bloody hell,” says Will, emerging through the swing door and almost losing his footing. “There’s cement everywhere.”