The day I awoke my inner predator

Gweru on the central Highveld of Zimbabwe used to be called Gwelo when I was there as a boy but seemed otherwise largely unchanged when we passed through a couple of weeks ago. Sleepy, laid-back: a petrol station, a few stores and a scattering of offices and little townships of bungalows on the main tarred road between Harare and Bulawayo. Less in Zimbabwe has changed than people think. We were on our way, though, to a place that was certainly new to me: Antelope Park, a lush, green riverside encampment at the end of a long dusty road out of Gweru. At Antelope Park you can walk with lions.

I will not enter upon a debate I know exists about the viability of the park’s overall project. Lion numbers have crashed over the last century and are still crashing: there may be no more than about 30,000 left in the wild. The park aims to breed lions, then teach them the ways of the wild so that in due course they can be released in parks that want to start or increase a lion population. The breeding programme is evidently a success: we saw that. But the rehabilitation is something of an unknown quantity; the outcome can only be judged if the released lions are monitored over time. As an operation and visitor attraction, the park seems to be doing well — walking with lions is a tremendous draw — and those who run it have created a beautiful place with great accommodation in stunning surroundings, and give every impression of a sincere and professional dedication to their environmental goals. But it’s fair to say that the raison d’etre of the whole project must be somewhat speculative. Beyond that I cannot judge: I’d simply observe that this must surely be a better use of 3,000 acres than running yet another scrappy cattle farm.