Kgalagadi’s Hidden Treasure Revealed — A Stunning Leopard Encounter

We’ve just returned from yet another unforgettable adventure in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park — a place that never fails to deliver awe-inspiring moments. From witnessing mating lions to the dramatic sight of a cobra under siege by a Pale Chanting Goshawk, the wilderness offered up its raw, untamed beauty in full force.

But for many safari-goers, there’s one sighting that feels like the ultimate prize — the elusive leopard. It’s not just a tick on the checklist; it’s a deeply emotional pursuit. At the start of the trip, we tell ourselves there’s plenty of time. Each sighting is celebrated without the shadow of absence. This is the healthiest mindset — open, grateful, patient.

Yet as the days pass, something shifts. The mantra of “we’ve got time” quietly morphs into “we’re running out of time.” And with that shift comes a subtle emotional weight. Sightings that would’ve thrilled us now carry a tinge of longing. The leopard becomes a symbol — of rarity, of hope, of the wild’s refusal to be predictable.

We try to soothe ourselves with emotional self-care. We remind ourselves of the magic we’ve already witnessed. We say, “It’s okay if we don’t see a leopard.” But deep down… is it?

Drive 23 of 25

Desperation had begun to creep in.

It was late afternoon in the Kgalagadi, and after days of near-misses, we found ourselves chasing spots along the Auob Riverbed. Our focus: the three waterholes closest to Twee Rivieren, namely Houmoed, Monro, and Kamfersboom as these are leopard hotspots. We headed straight for Kamfersboom, hearts pounding as we spotted three stationary vehicles. That unmistakable stillness again—engines off, binoculars raised, lenses locked.

I followed their gaze but saw nothing.

Curious, I pulled up and asked the woman in the nearest car what they’d seen. Her reply hit like a punch to the gut: “You just missed a leopard.” A male leopard had been perched in a distant tree for over an hour. He’d jumped down moments before we arrived, likely retreating to his cave in the calcrete ridges. We stayed for 20 minutes, scanning every inch of the ridge. Nothing. Not a flick of a tail or glint of an eye. Just silence.

We had passed a herd of springbok on the way in, and a flicker of hope returned—maybe the leopard was hunting. We decided to drive slowly down the riverbed toward Monro waterhole. As we approached, we saw two cars parked—oddly, on opposite sides of the road. That usually means no sighting. In the Kgalagadi, etiquette dictates you park on the same side as the sighting to avoid blocking views and keep traffic flowing.

Still, we pulled up to the nearest car and asked what they were watching. The response was casual, almost indifferent: “We saw a glimpse of a leopard.”

Wait—what?

A leopard!

Suddenly, the air felt electric again. We had a real chance.

The Waiting Game

For the next 10 minutes, five pairs of eyes scanned every blade of grass, every branch, every shadow. Nothing. I considered reversing slightly to get a better view around the bend—just in case the leopard tried to cross unseen. And that’s when it happened.

Movement.

Farther to the right than expected. I flashed my lights and pointed, alerting the other car. A young leopard popped up for just 10 seconds. I wasn’t ready—no photo, no time. But at least we had a fix on it’s location.

The next 15 minutes dragged on like an hour. Adrenaline faded. Doubt crept in. Had we missed our only chance? All of a sudden the gentleman in the other car pointed and said, she is COMING!! My wife and I grabbed our camera gear and positioned ourselves whilst trying to slow our breathing down. There she was, posing beautifully in front of a Camelthorn tree.

The young leopardess crossed the road behind us, her movements fluid and silent. And then, she looked straight at us. That eye contact—intense, unflinching, wild—was unlike anything we’d ever experienced. It wasn’t just a glance; it was a connection. Later, we received confirmation from the Kgalagadi Leopard Project researchers: this elusive beauty is known as L234. She’s rarely seen, which made our encounter all the more extraordinary. Her dark, soulful eyes are one of her defining features—and now, one of our most cherished memories.

With a sudden burst of energy, the young leopardess darted toward a group of ground squirrels. It wasn’t a serious hunt—more a playful chase, a display of youthful agility and curiosity. Then, as if satisfied with the thrill, she slowed her pace and turned toward the waterhole. We watched in awe as she lowered her head, and began to drink—each movement deliberate, each moment mesmerizing.

It was a rare privilege to witness such intimacy in the wild: a seldom-seen leopardess, known as L234, revealing both her playful spirit and her quiet strength.

Nature truly blesses us by sharing her surprises and her serenity. Every encounter is a gift. Every glance, a memory. And every heartbeat in her presence—a reminder of how incredibly beautiful the world around us actually is.

Till next time…