As Saturday night gin and tonics go, it wasn't up to much - barely enough ice and in a plastic cup. But the situation was unbeatable and still, a month later, barely credible. We were standing under a velvet African sky, dotted with countless stars, beside a Land Rover in a game reserve, having spent the previous 45 minutes in the company of a leopard.
It had been lump-in-the-throat time as the beautiful animal, seemingly oblivious to the three vehicles around it, had padded though the bush, growling occasionally. We had found her in the light of the evening and stayed with her until it was pitch black. Cameras whirred as Zane, our driver, pulled the vehicle backwards and forwards so that everyone could get a good view. But the best thing was to just sit and watch.
And, afterwards, when she had faded into the darkness and we got down and sipped our G&Ts, we all agreed they had been some of the most wonderful moments of our lives. Zane and Doc, the tracker who sat on a seat suspended in front of the bonnet like bait, said we had been incredibly lucky. Leopards are rare and, normally, extremely shy.
It was the highlight of the ultimate four-day weekend in South Africa, one that was manageable because of overnight flights both ways and only a two-hour time difference - meaning there is no Jetlag. As long as you can sleep on a plane, you feel fine.
So it was that 14 hours after leaving Heathrow on a Thursday evening, we were cruising out of Skukuza airport in the Kruger National Park, a 75-minute hop from Johannesburg. Within 30 seconds, we came across a troop of baboons sitting on the road, then some impala scuttled across. We all raced for our cameras only to be told by the driver not to get excited as there would be no shortage of baboons, impala, or anything else. And, besides, impala were lunch for the predators so we shouldn't get too attached.
Skukuza is in the southern part of the Kruger, a game park the size of Wales that was set up more than 100 years ago and is home to 147 mammal, 507 bird, 114 reptile and 34 amphibian species. It is fenced all the way round. There are camps inside the limits, with shops, restaurants and chalets where you can stay (gated at night to keep the predators out), but we were heading out for the evening to a small town called Hazyview in Mpumalanga.
People who know the continent say that South Africa is not the real thing because it has the veneer of a first-world infrastructure, like metalled roads and telephones that work. But for a weekend visit, where you cannot afford for anything to go wrong, these are real bonuses.
At Hazyview, we stayed the night at Hippo Hollow, a low-key hotel with chalets overlooking the Sabi river. My room was large with a balcony, a gas braai (barby) and a large shower room. The Sabi looked pretty tame but last year the rain that did for Mozambique to the east turned all the rivers around here into huge monsters, and most of the bridges were torn down. The hippos, which used to roam the hotel gardens, went elsewhere, too, but it is hoped they will return when the river gets back to normal.
That night we went to one of those cultural "evening" experiences that had all the makings of being naff and barely got away with it. This area is home to the Shangana people, and they have built a traditional-style working village near Hazyview. As the sun set behind the mountains, the drums beat and the singers and dancers arrived in a torch-lit procession at Chief Soshangana's krall.
The choir and dancers told the story of the Shangaan people, which took a while because it had to be translated into Japanese, Dutch and Spanish as well as English. The best bit was a dance by men wearing hard hats and wellingtons - these were the ones who had headed south to work in the gold mines - and it involved lots of slapping of the wellies and the hats. Swap the kits for lederhosen, felt hats and sturdy shoes, and you get the picture. At the end of the evening, as the fire died down, the choir sang the new national anthem. Lump in the throat time again.
The next day, Saturday, we headed about an hour out and into the Sabi Sand game reserve, which borders the Kruger and is virtually a part of it. You have to be staying in one of the fabulous lodges to get in,but while this pushed up the price of the trip, staying has it rewards. For, unlike the Kruger, the guides can go off road and so get very close to the game. We stopped for lunch at the Leopard Hills reserve, perched on top of a hill with views over the bush and beautifully-appointed rooms that could have been the set for Out of Africa De Luxe. We went on a game walk with a guide. He had a gun but when we asked what to do if anything made a beeline for us, he smiled and said, "Run."
We saw a couple of elephants at a water hole about 100 metres away, larking about and spraying themselves before ambling off. And there were zebra, impala and kudu, the ones that seem to have a bullseye stuck on their backside.
That afternoon we travelled on to Bush Lodge in Sabi Sabi Private Game Reserve, where each suite is its own thatched cottage with bathrooms the size of most people's living rooms, huge beds and patios where you can sit out on a colonial- style chair and watch the action at the waterhole about 50m away across a dried-up river bed. There was an outside shower, so I had one looked on only by an elephant. Maybe he was comparing size.
After the evening drive and the leopard sighting, we ate roast impala and crocodile (which tastes like chicken) and drank too much wine and listened to the guides making up stories of derring-do. Everyone was in bed quite early because the morning game drive sets off at 6am, to catch the animals before they bed down for the day. So, as the sun rose over the bushveld, we saw giraffes and zebras, three lions posing around a tree as if they were extras in Born Free, and then three elephants making a meal out of a couple of trees. They turned toward us and made as if to charge. In fact they didn't, but Zane said we had better move on.
Later that morning, we drove west out of the park and up into a completely different landscape and temperature. The 40km drive from Hazyview to Graskop took us up 1,000m, through vast commercial eucalyptus forests, to the top of the Drakensburg Escarpment, where there were great views back over the low veld, especially from a spot aptly named God's Window.
The main street of Graskop could almost be a laid-back small town in northern California - wide street, pretty houses, nothing much happening. We had lunch at Harrie's Pancakes, where one, filled with chicken and mushrooms, cost 25 rand (less than £2.50) and a bottle of South African chardonnay just over £3. The place, apparently, is recommended by Jo'burg's Chosen Few motorcycle gang. The roads around here would be perfect for touring on a bike.
The state of the rand may be desperate for South Africans but it makes anything locally sourced extremely cheap for Brits. In Graskop, at the factory where they make Rogue shoes and belts, I bought a pair of tough desert boots for around £20 and a lined buffalo belt for £5.
The countryside around here was green, dotted with spectacular waterfalls, and the road was lined with thousands upon thousands of wild white lilies. We were heading up to goldrush country and the town of Pilgrims Rest. It was here, in 1873, that the first major goldrush in the country happened, before they started gouging out the innards of Johannesburg, hundreds of kilometres to the west. When the gold finally ran out in 1972 the village - all corrugated iron painted cream with red roofs - was sold to the government as a ready-made museum and it has now become a national monument. It is very pretty - a row of houses strung along a road in a lonely valley. The population had reached a few thousand by the time the last mine closed. Now it is down to a few hundred who make their living from tourism. The main street has cafés, tourist shops and a few houses which are now museums to Victorian living and gold mining.
We stayed at the Royal Hotel, a Victorian place with the rooms off a quiet courtyard, which had the look and feel of a hotel from the Australian Outback. In fact, it used to be the chapel of a girl's school in Cape Town which was dismantled and shipped to Mozambique before being brought here by ox wagon.
The next morning, I was up early and walked to the cemetery where many of the names told the story of those who had headed out from the old country, and particularly Wales, to dig for gold. One, Saul Sampson, had died of starvation, while several others, out of luck, committed suicide. One grave dominates - the Robber's Grave. It is that of an unknown man convicted of tent robbing in the goldfields. He was banished but a few days after his trial he was spotted on a hill, now known as Cemtery Hill, where he was shot dead and then buried. His grave was orientated north-south, while all the others were west-east, to brand him a thief forever. Now, here he lies with all the others, looking down the valley. On a quiet sunny morning, it was as fine a place as any to end up.
Monday morning, we had to be heading back to Skukuza for the flight to Jo'burg. A couple of giraffe languidly picking at some leaves and a glimpse of a few more impala represented our last look at game. It seemed like a week since we had walked off the place into the arrivals lounge - in reality a couple of tables with thatched umbrellas - to be met by our driver in his khaki shirt and shorts.
Back in Jo'burg, we finished off the weekend with a trip around Soweto, the suburb of four million people which was at the centre of the struggle against apartheid. It's an uneasy tour, with a local driver, around a place which is not much to look at. There are the shanty towns which, from the comfort of a minbus bigger than most of the shacks, makes you feel guilty. There is a middle-class area and there is mile upon mile of small houses. There is no centre - everyone travels out to work in a minibus - but the most interesting street is that which was has the present-day house of Bishop Tutu and the old one of Nelson Mandela, now a museum run by his former wife Winnie, whose heavily-fortified house is nearby. As the driver said proudly, there is nowhere else in the world where there are the homes of two Nobel Prize winners in one street.
The museum, in a one-bedroom bungalow, was very low key, cost about 50p to enter, and was full of Mandela memorabilia. Afterwards, we were asked if we wanted to give money to Winnie's charities.
We stopped for a beer in Wandie's, a bar for locals and tourists in Soweto to which most of the guides take you, and then we headed back to the airport and London.
By Tuesday morning, I was back in the office. Where had I been for the weekend? Refer to the above. It had been a sensation.
The practicals
Charles Burgess' trip was organised by Quest Travel (0870 4445552) and cost £1,205pp; but with its ground agent, Thompsons, it can provide any combination and arrange stays in Kruger camps. The breakdown was as follows: SAA flights from Heathrow to Johannesburg from £487 (valid to July 15) and domestic return from Jo'burg to Skukuza £88. Accommodation at Hippo Hollow £22pp per night twin share, B&B only. Game drives £39 for a morning. Stay two nights and the third free during May and June. (Leopard Hills £225pp a night twin share, full board, and two game drives. Stay three nights and get the fourth night free). Sabi Sabi Reserve Bush Lodge £390pp a night twin share full board and two games drives per day. Pilgrim's Rest £27pp a night, B&B only. Transfers Skukuza-Hippo Hollow-Sabi Sabi-Pilgrim's Rest-Skukuza: £131pp (based on min two people). A half-day Soweto tour costs £21. (Car hire is available from £16 a day based on group A car with 100% insurance).
Ultimate weekends
Dream tickets
The Ice Hotel in Lapland, shopping in Dubai, or perhaps touring Britain in an Aston Martin DB6. Charlotte Atkins suggests something a little more adventurous for the weekend
All in the best possible taste
A 12-course feast prepared by a chef who has been awarded three Michelin stars followed by bed in a five-star hotel. It doesn't get much better, does it? Mike Kiely indulges himself in Lombardy
Comfort zone
Katharine Viner dons regulation robe and slippers, and destresses in style in the Chilterns
High society
It's close, but about as different from Europe as you can get. Lisa Sykes walks through the High Atlas with Berbers and soaks up the atmosphere Marrakech's souks
Horse power
Fancy some sunny days at the races? Former jockey Thomas Rees recommends a spectacular new course on the Costa del Sol
