Travel Review Ulusaba Game Lodge

The opportunity of a lifetime – Invited to Ulusaba Safari Lodge in the Sabi Sands Private Game Reserve.

Thursday

I’m boarding this teeny tiny plane to Ulusaba Game Lodge feeling like a full-blown millionaire (minus the bank balance). There are seven of us on board and two pilots (very handsome pilots, might I add. Like, are we sure this isn’t a reality dating show disguised as a safari?)

As we take off, the plane starts to wobble like it’s had one too many Amarulas. For a brief moment, I consider texting my loved ones goodbye, but within minutes it is gliding through the sky like it was made for this 😉 Crisis averted.

We’re greeted on the other side by Johnny, our ranger/guide/all-round legend, and Daniel, our tracker with eyes sharper than my dog’s when I’m eating a snack. They’re warm, and funny, and made us feel right at home.

Then we arrive at the Lodge and… WOW. Just wow. No photo, no Instagram reel, no poetic caption could ever capture how incredible this place is. But thank goodness for my new Canon camera, because I’m about to try anyway. Every frame looks like a scene from National Geographic.

Honestly? If I disappeared into the bush and never came back, just know I died happy. And probably dramatically, like falling off a luxury deck trying to take a selfie with a giraffe.

I’ve been allocated the Elephant Room and let me tell you – think five-star luxury meets wild bush glam. They’ve thought of everything from mosquito spray to bubble bath, it’s like they’ve met me before. Some of the other rooms even have little plunge pools overlooking the bush… I mean, hello dream life, can I move in permanently?

After a dramatic 15 minutes of unpacking (because of course I overpacked for a two-night stay), I sat down to flip through the info booklets like a proper grown-up. Then I headed out for lunch, where I spotted this ridiculously beautiful bird. My Canon didn’t let me down! The colours! That was it. A full-blown love affair with photography began right there. Suddenly I was seeing beauty everywhere. Like my eyes got upgraded to high-def.

Post-lunch, I took a stroll to the watering hole, which is a short walk away… unless you count the fact that you have to cross a series of wooden swing bridges. I say “swing” because that’s what they do. Imagine trying to walk with dignity while the bridge is wobbling like jelly and someone behind you is laughing hysterically (okay, that someone was me). Pro tip: hold the sides or prepare for a humble tumble.

There’s this incredible treetop viewing point that overlooks the watering hole, and the hippos sunbathing. Just chilling in the sun like they owned the place. I didn’t stay long since our next game drive was leaving at 3:30pm, but something about that quiet spot hit me. I kept coming back to it, alone, just me and the sounds of the bush, soul calmed, camera ready, heart full.

Back at reception, I met up with Johnny and Dan (who were probably thinking “Here comes the excitable one!”), and off we went. Within two minutes we were deep into what felt like nowhere. Like, if we’d disappeared right there, it would’ve been “National Geographic Mystery Edition.”

Dan, with his superhero tracker vision, spotted some footprints by the river and just as we crossed over…

BOOM. LIONS.

Yes. Actual lions. Just lying there. We sat in quiet awe, just taking it in until they gracefully strolled off into the bush.

Sundowners, Lion Shenanigans & Ghosts in the Darkness

After the lions gave us the royal goodbye (tail flick and all), we continued on our animal treasure hunt. Soon enough, Impala, a trotting warthog and then… a giraffe! Towering, elegant, and looking like she’d just stepped out of a Vogue photo shoot. I mean, if I had those legs, I’d be smug too.

As the day started winding down, the skies turned that perfect shade of molten gold and tangerine. We pulled over by the river for sundowners.

On the drive back, we found the lions again (clearly we’re besties now). Hopes were high for a dramatic Nat Geo moment: claws, chaos, survival of the fittest! Instead… they just strolled down the road in front of us like they were out for a post-dinner digestive walk. No drama, no kills, just chill vibes.

Back at the lodge, I had time to freshen up before dinner which turned out to be an actual five-course feast from heaven. I’m talking “I forgot what sadness tastes like” good. Everyone gathers around this big rustic wooden table like it’s a family reunion. There’s a group of six Belgians who are hilarious, a sweet couple from Austria, and a cool duo from the States. We’re all swapping wild travel tales, comparing animal sightings, and future travel dreams together. It’s wholesome. It’s heartwarming. It’s magic.

And then comes the part that makes you feel like you’re in an actual movie: the night escort. Because the lodge is unfenced (I repeat, UNFENCED), you can’t walk back to your room alone after dark. Enter: armed guard with a flashlight and nerves of steel. It’s Ghosts in the Darkness meets luxury retreat.

But we made it back in one piece, under a blanket of stars.

Luxury, Lions & Baboons with Boundary Issues

After dinner, I returned to my room to find it transformed into a glowing little haven. Soft lights switched on, cozy mood ambience, my bed turned down and a heated blanket waiting on the bed. I fell asleep to the sounds of the African night: crickets, distant hoots, and the occasional very close lion roar.

Lying there in the dark, I felt this overwhelming rush of gratitude. As South Africans, we often forget what a ridiculous privilege it is to live here. We scroll past lion pics on social media like “meh, seen it.” But it’s something else entirely when you’re sitting in an open vehicle, heart pounding, in the middle of the bush, being looked at by an actual lion.

There’s something breath-stealing about watching a wild animal clean itself like a common house cat, or locking eyes with a leopard who knows full well she’s the queen here. It’s raw, it’s humbling, and it’s sacred. These creatures let us in. And we damn well need to protect that – for our kids and their kids and everyone who’s yet to feel that same magic.

No words can fully capture the peace, the awe, and the “holy crap I’m really here” feeling that comes with this place.

Friday: Baboons, Blankets & Bush Drama

I woke up a full 15 minutes before my 5:30 wake-up call – pure excitement, not caffeine, fueling this early bird moment. My armed bush escort arrived to walk me safely to the main lodge area, because again… unfenced. You know, just casually walking through lion territory like it’s a normal Friday.

Before heading out for our morning drive, they offer light snacks: fruit, muffins, and the sacred elixir of life: coffee. While trying to sneak in a quick smoke (don’t judge me, I’m spiritual and a work in progress), a baboon decided to make my morning a little extra. This cheeky thing was bouncing around in the trees like he owned the joint. I pretended to be cool, but I was one foot away from sprinting back indoors and yelling “Save yourselves!” I do not mess with baboons. They tell you to keep windows locked, and now I get why : these furry hooligans have been known to break in, trash the room, try on your clothes (for real), and raid the minibar.

Mornings are chilly, so we bundled up in hoodies. But Ulusaba, of course, has thought of everything. There’s a hot water bottle AND a blanket in each vehicle.

Our first sighting? The lions we’d heard roaring all night. We caught them in the middle of their… romantic entanglement. They were very unimpressed by the interruption and sauntered off with a kind of “privacy, please” energy. Awkward, but 10/10 for drama.

The rangers are in constant communication over the radio, planning routes and coordinating sightings so no animal gets swarmed. Only two vehicles at a time are allowed per sighting – which is respectful and actually makes it feel more exclusive, like VIP access to the animal kingdom.

They even use code names so guests don’t know what’s coming next. It’s like a surprise party… but for predators.

And then came the moment. Johnny slowed the vehicle, turned off the engine, and pointed upward.

A leopard. In a tree. With dinner.

She was napping next to what remained of a Nyala, just some dainty hooves dangling over the branch like decoration. It was wild. Gruesome. Amazing. Like a scene from The Lion King… but uncut.

Later, we stopped for our morning Coffee break. We sat there swapping “what do you still want to see?” wishes, like little kids writing letters to Santa. “Buffalo,” someone said. “Me too,” I nodded, mouth full of rusk.

As we rounded a bend on the way, we saw Rhinos. Actual rhinos, just standing there like ancient statues. Huge, grey, prehistoric-looking beasts that make you pause. They don’t look real. They look like the kind of creature you’d find in a sci-fi movie, not walking five meters from your jeep. And it physically hurts to think people kill them for horns, for money, for nothing. It was one of those moments that lands deep in your chest.

And this was just the morning.

The Secret Mission

Just when I thought the bush couldn’t top itself, Johnny turned around with a mischievous glint in his eye and said, “Alright, we’re going on a little stealth mission.” No details. No hints. Just that tone that says, You’re about to lose your mind.

He coordinated with another ranger over the radio – again, all very hush-hush – and before we knew it, there he was.

A leopard. Another one.

A young male, perched regally right next to the road, as if waiting for his moment on the red carpet. I literally gasped. Like, hand-over-mouth, movie-scene gasp.

We watched as he gave himself a solid scratch and full-body clean. Casual, majestic, ridiculously photogenic.

I could’ve sat there forever, honestly. Just watching him be wild and wonderful and completely unbothered by our presence. It was one of those pinch-me moments.

Afternoon Game Drive: The Gentle Giants

Just when I thought the day had peaked with two leopards and a Nyala leg swinging in the breeze, the afternoon game drive delivered a full herd of elephants.

We sat there in complete silence (ok, mostly silence. There was the occasional whispered “OH MY GOD” from someone in the vehicle, possibly me), as the elephants slowly moved past us. We were less than four metres away. FOUR. METRES.

I kept thinking, “One of these guys could flip our vehicle like a pancake and then just keep walking like it was no big deal.” But nope. They were completely unbothered by us. One even gave us a side-eye that felt like, “Relax, humans. We’re just here for snacks.”

It was equal parts thrilling and deeply calming. Like being in the presence of ancient wisdom that just radiates through their wrinkled skin and flappy ears. Elephants have my heart. Forever.

We’re going on a Lion Hunt (Just jokes of course)

Word spreads through the bush grapevine: a pride of lions has wandered in from the East. Naturally, we’re off like detectives in khakis, bouncing down sandy tracks in pursuit of the big cats. They were apparently last seen lounging in an open field but now they’ve ghosted us.

We drive around for about 20 minutes scanning every termite mound, tree stump, and suspicious bush shadow. Nothing. Not a flick of a tail. Not a royal yawn. Nada.

Then Johnny and Dan do something totally logical and not at all terrifying: they LEAVE. ON FOOT. Into the wilderness. In lion territory. Without a cage. Or a lightsaber. Or even snacks to throw as distractions. Just casually walking off into the sunset like it’s no big deal.

Meanwhile, we’re just chilling in the Rover. Alone. Parked. In the area where a literal pride of lions is supposedly hiding. Cue a Cape Tonian in the back who starts cracking jokes “Watch, they’re probably putting on lion suits and playing audio clips of roars behind the bushes.” We laugh, slightly nervously, scanning the horizon for anything that moves… or roars… or looks like it could eat us.

Then, movement. Not a lion, but Dan appears on a ridge with another tracker like some khaki-clad bush ninja. Johnny returns, hops into the car, and we drive across to meet them.

They found the pride!

There are four females and one young male, who is nonchalantly enjoying a little warthog nose snack. As one does.

Just when we were getting comfy watching the pride, Mama Lion decided it was time for a drink. She got up gracefully and made her way toward a small dam nearby. The little male cub watched her go, looking all indignant like, “MOM, excuse me?! Where are you even going? ” and hurried after her with his half-eaten warthog face.

On the way back I asked Johnny, casually as if I wasn’t about to burst with joy, “Think we could see some zebra tomorrow?” And bless him, without skipping a beat, he said, “OK, We’ll find them.”

Back at camp, we all gathered at the bar for drinks, laughs, and that smug post-sighting glow. The rangers joined us, and honestly? It felt like we were a cast in the coolest reality show ever: Survivor: Safari Edition but with hot chocolate and cozy blankets instead of coconut water and drama.

Then came the grand finale: an exclusive bush dinner. Candlelight, lanterns swinging from the trees, fires crackling, stars above us, and the distant rumble of something wild in the dark.

Saturday: Zebras & the Airstrip

Woke up early again with that familiar mix of excitement and pure presence.

We set off, passing Rock Lodge and cruising past the airstrip – everyone leaning out slightly, doing the patented safari squint, hoping for stripes, spots, tusks, anything.

And then YES. A single, glorious, slow-walking ZEBRA emerging from the trees. I had to stop myself from shrieking.

I LOVE zebra. Maybe because I’m obsessed with horses.

Soon more joined: a pregnant mare (belly proudly out front), and a stallion who stepped out first like, “Ladies, the coast is clear, let’s strut.” They trotted right onto the actual airstrip, tails swishing, heads held high. Not a care in the world.

They were dazzling. Literally. That’s what you call a group of zebra: a dazzle. How perfect is that? Because that’s exactly what they did – dazzled me straight into bliss.

Johnny got a message on the radio and off we went on our next little adventure. We pulled into a clearing a few minutes later and spotted a whole pack of Hyenas. Hanging out like a bunch of naughty teenagers up to no good but trying to look innocent. They’ve got those “I didn’t do it… but I could have” faces.

They’re not what you expect, with oversized ears and surprisingly soulful eyes. Still wouldn’t want one in my tent, but fascinating to watch from a distance that feels safe-ish.

One of the guests put in a special request: “Can we see a leopard today?” Which is basically like saying, “Hey nature, do you take orders?” But Johnny, never one to back down from a challenge, said, “Let’s go find one.”

So off we went, bouncing along in the Rover when suddenly…

GIRAFFE ALERT.

This guy was huge. Graceful, yes, but also slightly chaotic like his legs were a bit too long for his own comfort. He moved through the bush like he was constantly one second away from tripping over himself, but somehow pulled it off with pure elegance.

Then… hidden in a snug little cove of trees near the river was a stunning female leopard, fast asleep. She didn’t even blink when we rolled up. Johnny told us she’d made a kill the night before, so she was in full-on food coma mode. Lazy, satisfied, and completely indifferent to our existence.

She was magic. Every spotted inch of her.

We moved on and soon spotted a yellow-billed hornbill perched proudly on a branch, giving off strong Zazu vibes. Beautiful bird, with very judgy eyes.

Then vultures began circling overhead near a patch of trees, and Johnny and Dan did that terrifyingly casual thing they love to do: hopped out the vehicle and disappeared into the bush to “take a closer look.”

Ummm… hi? You’re just going to leave us here? Again? With vultures circling?!

Yes. Yes, they are. 😂

So there we are squinting toward the trees and silently wondering how fast we could all crawl under the seats if a lion popped up. Suddenly, we hear another vehicle approaching, and there’s a mild moment of please-see-us-before-you-make-us-a-speedbump panic. Luckily, they do.

It’s William, a super friendly ranger from a neighbouring lodge, and the second he pulls up, the chaos begins.

First, there’s the standard ranger banter and he chuckles about Johnny and Dan abandoning us. But then… William’s eyes light up. Payback time.

Apparently, Johnny once placed a surprise elephant dung gift on William’s driver’s seat (because obviously that’s how bush bros roll). So William scans the area like a true professional prankster, spots some lion dung, breaks off an acacia branch and gently deposits the lion poop right on Johnny’s seat.

A gift. From the savannah. With love.

Meanwhile, we’re all laughing, wile trying to keep it quiet because, you know, Lions. Then Johnny and Dan reappear through the bush and instantly clock what’s going down. Johnny’s face. Pure “oh hell no.” They take off running toward us, and in the chaos, I couldn’t help myself:

“ONLY PREY RUN!” I yell. (One of the golden rules of the game drive.)

Warthogs, Turtles & Star Clusters

We kick off the morning with a few warthogs by the side of the road. They’re so weird. Ugly but SO loveable.

Then it’s back to camp for breakfast. Naturally, I follow it with another walk to my beloved watering hole via the swingy bridges. By now I’ve fully accepted the swinging, squeaking and the slight feeling of maybe plunging to your doom as part of the bush charm. Honestly? Ten out of ten. Would risk again.

The watering hole is buzzing. Dozens of hippos lazing about, some with little chubby babies. And then a bonus moment of joy, there are tiny turtles perched on the hippos’ backs like they’ve booked first-class lounge chairs. Nature, you weird and wonderful thing.

Then, heartbreak: my camera battery dies. The betrayal. I head back to the room to charge and pour it all out into words, because if I don’t write it down, I might combust from happiness.

Sunday

Post-lunch, we’re treated to a visit to Rock Lodge for high tea. It’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous up there. 360° views of the entire reserve. But despite the glam, we all agree: Safari Lodge wins. Because while Rock Lodge is like the penthouse suite, Safari Lodge is where the real stuff happens.

We’re eager to spot more animals, especially since we have some new guests who haven’t met our rhino friends yet. We drive out and, boom! There they are again: two females and a big male rhino trying very hard to win them over. Let’s just say… the ladies weren’t vibing him. Within seconds, they disappeared into the bushes like “Nope, not today, Chad.”

But then, a personal bucket list request: elephants crossing water with babies, please. Johnny just looks at me for a moment and smiles. 20 minutes later, he delivers.

A HUGE herd emerges at the river, moving as one magnificent unit. Stacks of babies, different moms, trunks swaying, feet splashing, and tiny little flappy ears all over the place. Every time I think I’ve seen the last one, another elephant pops up behind a bush.

It was endless. And utterly breathtaking.

Lions in the Sunset

Just when I thought the day had peaked. LIONS. Out of the shadows. In golden hour lighting.

We drove a little closer for a better look (because obviously we’re those people), and I could swear they were sniffing the air with deep interest… and hunger? I sat there absolutely convinced they were picking up the scent of fresh human meat – aka us – and calculating who in the vehicle looked the slowest.

We’re sitting there admiring this majestic display of feline power when Johnny’s radio crackles to life. Leopard drama. That beautiful, lazy queen we saw earlier? She had suddenly bolted from her nap spot. Why? Because she had stashed her kill in that little cove. And guess who was now sniffing around dangerously close? Yep. The lions.

She didn’t wait around to see what would happen. She was out of there like a seasoned bush ninja. Quick. Smart. Zero hesitation. Honestly, I aspire to that kind of instinctual self-preservation.

Back on the other side of the river, the lions hadn’t even noticed her yet. Nope—they were far too busy doing a live cuddle session for us. Tail flicks, head nuzzles, that whole “we’re terrifying but also deeply adorable” thing lions do so well. They stretched and flopped down in a furry pile of majestic laziness, golden light dancing across their coats like nature had its own Instagram filter.

Meanwhile, I’m just sitting there, clutching my camera and my heart like, “Did that all seriously just happen?” Spoiler: it did.

The lions start sniffing again, and suddenly it was all systems go.
They trotted off, full of purpose across the water toward the leopard’s cove. On the way, a bit of tension flared up between them. One of the lionesses got there first and planted her paws on it as if saying “MINE.” She was growling and making it very clear this buffet was not a group activity. The others weren’t having it. A full-on lion fight. Right in front of us.

Claws. Roars. The kind of scene that makes your body vibrate with adrenaline and your brain scream IS THIS REAL LIFE?! I mean… we were less than 4 metres away. Literal metres. No zoom lens needed. Just us and a pack of furious, hungry, roaring cats.. I couldn’t even breathe properly. Not out of fear, just complete, overwhelming awe. Out. Of. This. World. (Ok, and maybe fear).

Afternoon drive kicked off beautifully with five giraffes swaying along the road, looking elegant as ever.

Then we spotted a lone male elephant, and something felt… off. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot like he was trying to dance but didn’t know the steps. Phil, the oracle of elephant emotions, explained that when elephants do this rocking motion and develop wet patches on their “cheeks” (just between the eyes and ears), it’s a clear sign something’s up.

Now, that wet patch could mean happy elephant, or it could mean nervous elephant. In this case, combined with his swaying and general “I’m not loving this” vibe, it was option B. We respected his space and moved on carefully, rounding the dam – and then it all made sense.

There, standing just 20–30 metres away, was a big white rhino.

Lions, Bush-Wees & Bittersweet Goodbyes

As the sun began melting behind the horizon, we cruised along the riverbank scanning the water. Then the radio crackled again… cue another secret mission.

Big, beautiful lion, passed out on the grass. Lazy cat! We watched him, silently hoping he might do something, anything other than nap. And just as we were about to accept our fate that he’d gone to bed for the night, he stood up, gave us a big stretch, and let out a low, haunting call for his brother.

Chills. Actual chills. You could see him tilting his head, ears twitching, listening. I didn’t hear anything back, but clearly he did, because suddenly he was on the move. And we followed. Slowly, quietly, completely captivated.

About 200–300 metres on, there he was. His brother, lying in the grass like he’d been waiting all day. What happened next? Too adorable for words. (But I’ll try anyway.) They nuzzled each other like long-lost besties. A gentle headbutt, a flop, a little roll and then just lay down together like big snuggly murder muffins. Honestly, I wanted to jump out the vehicle and spoon them. I think I’m starting to like cats now?? (Jury’s still out on domestic ones, but these two are simply gorgeous)

Eventually, we left the lions to give another vehicle a turn and stopped for drinks and snacks under the stars. First time we’ve stopped in the dark and let me just say: paranoia was HIGH. We were, after all, in the exact same spot where hyenas and rhinos casually roamed yesterday. And let’s not forget the completely silent lion who snuck through the grass. Yeah. That memory was not helping my relaxation.

Still, nature calls. I bravely ventured into the dark for a bush wee, half-laughing and half-hyperventilating. And of course, I remembered what Johnny said during my first bush toilet experience: “You can always tell if it was a female human by the zigzag pattern – we’re constantly checking left and right for predators mid-stream.”

I made it out alive (woo!), then planted myself next to the vehicle.

Back at the lodge, I started packing up my things with a heavy heart. It’s wild (no pun intended) how deeply this place roots itself into your soul after just a few days. The sounds, the air, the animals… it’s like the wild rewires you.

Yes, I’m devastated to leave. But the adventure isn’t over.

Next stop: Zambia, Zimbabwe & the mighty Victoria Falls.