A group of hunters from Kazakhstan, Limpopo province, a buffalo at twenty metres, and a novice who outshot them all. A report from a big expedition.
The party gathered from across Kazakhstan: members of the OHOTNIKI.KZ community — Aidar, Gulfia, myself, and our elder client, whom the locals called “Madala”. The safari was meant to happen back in the summer of 2020, but the pandemic forced us to wait for flights to reopen; we only broke away in mid-April.
We flew Turkish Airlines and spent a wonderful 16 hours in Istanbul before the connection: prayer at Sultanahmet, balık-ekmek, tea and baklava on the bridge over the Bosphorus, the Grand Bazaar. At Tambo airport my partner — professional hunter and outfitter Louis — met us with “welcome home”. We chose Limpopo province: it's warm there, and everything lives there, from doves to elephant.
The lodge owner, Ross, is a young, cheerful Afrikaner of English descent. His grandfather built the lodge back in the seventies on the bank of the Limpopo; today the estate is 7,000 hectares of dense bush, ideal for buffalo. Its wall collection consists solely of bulls taken on this very land.
One day, tracking a blue wildebeest, we nearly “stepped on” a buffalo. He was resting behind a wall of brush barely twenty metres away. A faint whisper was enough: a rustle, an angry snort, the thud of hooves, branches cracking. For a moment it was unclear where he'd charge — perhaps straight at us. The buffalo left, having caught our scent. No wonder the locals say, “Africa is not for sissies.” After that, the head PH Almayn trusted me with his .375 H&H Mauser.
The lodge stands on a rise: four rooms for eight, a great hall with a bar, fireplace and leather sofas, a trophy room. Louis had specially brought his own head chef, Nkosi — and we reached gastronomic ecstasy. Dishes from the freshest meat of the antelope we'd taken, and not one repeated in two weeks. Gulfia was amazed at cheesecake for dessert, and Aidar asked, “Where in Kazakhstan have you eaten cheesecake at a game warden's place?” That's African service for you.
«Hunting is conservation. Conservation is hunting.»
The hunt began early: up at six, breakfast already on the table. The group split into three units with separate trackers and PHs. Ours was a selection, non-trophy hunt: we sought old animals, with broken horns or irregular growth — the PH identifies them. But you couldn't call it easy: the slightest rustle, a careless move or a shift in the wind, and you're left with nothing, tracking on foot again through thorny scrub.
I made a mistake advising Aidar to take old sneakers instead of hiking boots — a quieter step. His very first trophy went off wounded, and over 3–4 km of pursuit the thorns turned the soft soles into a sieve. He had to change into flat boots of blue-wildebeest leather with leather gaiters — far better than a noisy tread. That wildebeest was found on the third day: the hyenas had got to it, but the skull and horns went to the hunter.
Gulfia is a story of her own. She had never fired a carbine; Louis gave her a soft 6.5×57 Mauser and patiently, in three languages, set her technique. Out of inexperience she took her first impala in the head, snapping a horn — luckily it was a cull bull. After that there was no stopping her: at 120 metres she dropped a huge wildebeest straight through the heart. In a week, using 13 rounds, she took 10 antelope and a warthog — more than anyone in the group. “She is natural,” said Louis.
The fenced 7,000 hectares are far from a zoo. Habitat management, drilling boreholes for waterholes, anti-poaching — all cost a great deal, but the result is clear: in South Africa, thanks to conservation hunting, wild game numbers grew from 500,000 to 22 million, and with the national parks, to 27. Hunting funds conservation, creates thousands of jobs, and raises service to the level of 4–5★ hotels.
But a safari is not only trophies. One evening we were served dinner right on the bank of the Limpopo, crocodiles drifting past. On the last night we held a wild supper in the bush: soft light, a fire, whisky forfeits for the best, worst and longest shot. The time flew by. That was when I knew I wanted to bring my countrymen here again and again.