In relative terms it’s a little strip of arid landscape, with big skies over the mountain ranges to the north, and a brooding, swollen ocean over the hills and peaks to the south.

A land where, long after having been wiped out by ignorant pioneering settlers and generations of farmers, the likes of cheetah, lion, elephant and rhino can once again be seen. This is Sanbona Wildlife Reserve.

Sanbona came about because a wealthy individual intent on extending conservation areas, some ten
years back saw opportunity in a number of struggling farms in South Africa’s Little Karoo.

So he bought them and created a game reserve close on 60 000 hectare in size, which in commercial terms can host the Big 5. But while creatures like the leopard, mountain zebra and Cape Fox have long been resident, big game like rhino and elephant would likely never have settled in such areas, simply because there isn’t enough water.

They would’ve migrated through, keeping time with the seasons, always en route to optimal
conditions.

For the modern traveller in a world of constant speed, pressure and digital stress, this is ‘optimal’. Nature-lovers will appreciate the quiet sense of place, and a landscape that works for them, on many levels.

However, the attraction of the Little Karoo is the sense of space. That’s what we were after. For this trip pregnant Mom (Alison) joined me and Fynn on safari. To an African Storybook favourite – the best wildlife destination within comfortable driving distance (four hours) of Cape Town.

Soon after leaving the village of Montagu – which really is ‘cradled’ beneath a series of astonishing fold mountains –we turned off to Sanbona. From here, it’s another comfortable hour to the main lodge, Gondwana. No instant gratification here.This part of the world is fossil heaven, a land where
the likes of the BBC and NatGeo frequently come to tell dinosaur and origin tales.

What apparently wasn’t appropriate however, was my driving over the dirt road. Alison was only two months short of delivering Saskia at this stage, and the roads were rough enough to have her gripping the carseat sides with white knuckles.

But what Alison does remember is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Though she prefers lush green to colours of a mostly dry and earthy tinge, she was also taken in by the sheer scale of it all: the silence, the sky and the sheer fact that every single sound was amplified by the absence of acoustic distraction.

The clicks of the elands’ hooves as they approached the waterhole. The whip of the Cape Zebra’s tale pursuing a fly on its rump. The turtle dove’s signature call heralding the quickening of the setting sun. To everything is added significance in this landscape. And that was just from our balcony.

Over a ridge, down a valley and past the remains of an old shepherd’s cottage we saw cheetah. I was present for the release of the cheetah at Sanbona over ten years back, and I learnt that they had been mildly habituated. Cheetah are a threatened species not often seen in South Africa. To see three alert young males close-up was a privilege. We followed a relaxed elephant herd in the dry riverbed, and watched white rhino with added significance. With their numbers being savaged by poachers, with interest we listened to how the air force is cooperating with Sanbona in monitoring its skies – where much of the threat comes from.

Little Fynn didn’t get to share in this excitement, because unlike our visit to the Timbavati, here he was too young for a game-drive. ‘Awww, what about Fynn?’, would’ve been the response if he’d known he couldn’t come. Yet Sanbona’s Gondwana Lodge is probably the most child-friendly establishment you’re likely to see on the safari circuit. So, with a babysitter on watch, while this
pregnant couple went on a game-drive, Fynn got to play in a colourful room the size of a crèche, with a selection of toys to match.

On the patio deck outside the dining-room he danced with a young American. After dinner, in the adjoining lounge, with other children he watched TV. Squeals and giggles reigned supreme. Nowhere did you see a parent offer up that guilty game-lodge glance. And not once did you hear anyone asking their child to ‘shoosh’. We all breathed easy…Phew.