A Morning at Little Leadwood: Coffee, A Game Drive, and Zuki the Suzuki

Life at Little Leadwood begins early. By 5am I’m already awake, a natural early riser, which is definitely an advantage when living in the bush.  The first order of business?  Coffee.  While the kettle warms on our SMEG gas stove, I step out onto the deck with a flashlight and peer into the pitch-black African bushveld.

Some mornings it’s silent, other mornings you hear alarm calls echoing along the Rietspruit River.  A sharp bark of an impala close by could mean a leopard on the move.  A distant call might give away the direction of lions.  This time, the only alarm call is the whistle of the kettle.  Back inside, I pour two cups of coffee.  If I’m lucky, the smell of arabica will coax Juls out of bed.  Usually, though, she stays curled up under the plush duvet, leaving me to my own devices for the next couple of hours.

With a kiss goodbye, I grab my essentials: a jacket, binoculars, my phone, a map of the Rietspruit Game Reserve (still learning the maze of roads), and my trusty Stanley flask.  Outside, in the carport, waits Zuki, my beloved 1984 Suzuki SJ410.  Painted in desert bushveld tones and converted into a pocket-sized game viewer, Zuki is my most treasured possession.

Zuki, my beloved 1984 Suzuki SJ410

Zuki has personality.  Cantankerous at times, forgiving at others, but always reliable when it matters.  I learned this first-hand when a white rhino bull charged me for what-felt-like a kilometre along Sandsloot Pad on Bloubank.  Zuki’s nimble handling and stubborn little engine saw us safely out.  No small feat when you’re only 850kg up against a 2.3-ton rhino.

Mornings with Zuki always begin the same way.  Similar to Juls, Zuki needs to be coaxed awake.  It’s a mysterious mix of choke, accelerator, and patience.  Once the engine idles, I flick on the radio to hear if anyone else has gone live.  “Darryl going live on Leadwood, any updates?” I announce.

Invariably, Kevin’s voice crackles back: “Morning, Darryl. I’ve got audio of lions to the northeast near Blouwildebeest Dam or the Corridor – I suspect, leopard audio and tracks here at Seskant Krip – possibly the “Bloubank Male”, there was a rhino cow and calf near Twin Crossings around an hour ago, and the elephants were moving north along Diepsloot Oos towards the block but no visual…”

Fortunately, this is not my first rodeo.  To avoid my head exploding with trying to remember the update, I pre-emptively hit record on my iPhone Voice Memo app, knowing I’ll never remember that list otherwise.  Radio protocol is everything on a private reserve like Leadwood Big Game Estate.  Calmly and confidently, I reply: “Copy. Thanks, Kevin,” while scribbling bullet points before setting off.

From the moment I ease Zuki out of the carport, I’m on game drive.  The animals are everywhere.  Sometimes a herd of zebra on our private driveway, other times just the silence of the bush.  With spotlight plugged in and coffee in hand, I head towards the Corridor near Khaya Ndlovu in search of the lions, hoping my notes keep pace with the morning’s sightings.

A drive might last an hour, sometimes three.  It depends on what the bush offers that day.  The thrill is that you never know.

Eventually and often reluctantly, I return Zuki to the carport, both of us satisfied with another morning of understanding each other.  If I’m lucky, Juls has breakfast on the go.  We gather at the kitchen island, swapping stories of tracks and sightings, before carrying our plates out to the covered deck.  From here, the view stretches across our pool to the Drakensberg Mountains.  A backdrop that never fails to stop us in our tracks.

Some mornings we linger in the courtyard after breakfast, warmed by the morning light, watching sunbirds dart from aloe to aloe.  Other mornings we set up our laptops at the work stations in the bedrooms to get some business done.  Often, though, the call of the poolside loungers is too strong, and we spend the rest of the morning watching herds of giraffe and zebra wander past the front of Little Leadwood.

It’s in these quiet, ordinary moments that we remember just how lucky we are to call Leadwood Estate Hoedspruit one of our homes.  Here, mornings begin not with traffic or schedules but with coffee, birdsong, and the thrill of not knowing what’s around the next bend in the road.  This isn’t just a bush villa in Hoedspruit, it’s our slice of Africa.  A place where freedom, quiet, and nature blend into daily life.