It is day two at the Phinda game reserve in South Africa, and we are going to track rhinos – on foot. It is a good job we have become good friends with our tracker, Jabu, and our ranger, Seth, because we will be entrusting them with our lives.
We see the rhinos from our vehicle, a far way off. It's easy to spot rhino on the open savannah. They are massive animals. Everything about a rhinoceros is big. Its head is enormous and even its relatively small ears are huge. Its feet are the size of dinner plates. Very big dinner plates. The kind of dinner plates you serve a rack of beef on. These are white rhino. Of South Africa's two species of rhino, the white are slightly less aggressive than the black. But they're bigger. Much bigger. Almost twice the size. "Would you like to approach them on foot?" Seth asks.
"Sure," I answer, not sure if this is really a good idea. But how does one turn down an offer like that, without seeming just a little spineless? And, after all, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and there is no way I am going to let it pass me by.
We approach the animals carefully and quietly. Seth leads the way armed with a hunting rifle. We proceed with extreme caution, every twig that snaps underfoot makes my heart skip a beat. Every time the rhino lifts its head in my direction, I want to turn tail and run. I keep low, with my back bent almost double. I don't speak, and I don't complain about the thorns snagging my trousers or the sun shining directly in my eyes.
"If one of them charges," Seth whispers, "hit the ground and lie down flat. They don't see well, and chances are it won't do too much damage." I wonder, but do not ask, what to do if both of them charge ...
It is really scary. But it is exhilarating, too. We get so close we can smell the rhino. We can see the scratches on their huge flanks where they have rubbed the ticks and other parasites off of their bodies on the huge trees of Phinda. It's ironic that when you're that close to an animal of this size, you notice the really small things.
The rhinos are completely oblivious to us. They carry on eating grass placidly, before wandering off to rest up for the rest of the day. We back away. You never turn your back on a rhino, Jabu tells us. And when we are safely clear of them, we stand up straight again and walk briskly back to the vehicle. Oh alright. We walk fast. We walk very fast and we clamber on board quickly.
And as I settle back into the safari truck and feel my heartbeat return to normal, I realise just how lucky I am to be given the chance to view these animals – one of South Africa's famous Big Five – up that close and that personal.
"You know why they're called the Big Five?" Seth asks, referring to the elephant, buffalo, lion, leopard and rhino. "Because they're considered the most dangerous animals in Africa to track on foot." Now he tells us, I think. And smile back, while examining the thorn damage to my trousers.
