This heart-stopping big cat encounter is an Aussie best-kept secret

It occurs to me on the drive to South Australia’s 1500-hectare Monarto Safari Park, the largest outside Africa, that the only thing that will soon separate me from a four-strong pride of apex predators is five-millimetre-thick steel mesh.

Granted, the structurally engineered dome-like cage – which sits at the end of a 16-metre concrete tunnel within the 11-hectare lion enclosure – is very capable protection from three-year-old males Chad and Ruka and their sisters, Zahara and Chikondi.

How you feline? A lion at Monarto Safari Park in South Australia.Credit: South Australian Tourism Commission

The quartet make up today’s stars at the twice-daily Lions360 tour, a fully immersive, entirely safe animal encounter in which we humans are inside the impound and the fluffy predators roam freely around (and on top of) us.

It’s as up close and personal as we can possibly get: saliva dribbles and direct feline eye contact are thrillingly likely.

When I left Adelaide, I did not anticipate being within clawing range an hour later, but such is life. I’m on snack duty, one of the lucky few tasked with delivering raw kangaroo to our lion lieges via a metal prong. When life hands you a meat fork, make a lion’s day.

That’s the plan. We bounce onwards in a new safari truck, one of seven commissioned for Monarto Safari Resort, a shiny 78-room luxury lodge on the periphery of the zoo that opened in late May.

Where the humans sleep: Monarto’s 78-room luxury lodge.

Our tour guide, Kat (yes, really) Ellis, narrates as we cross the hyena enclosure and African spotted dog territory en route to the cats.

Sixteen lions – and more than 500 animals in total, including two Asian elephants who recently decamped from Sydney’s Taronga Zoo – call Monarto home, she tells us.

As we enter the dome to await the lusciously maned carnivores, we learn there’s been a 90 per cent decline in their population over the past 100 years and that 43 per cent of that loss has occurred over the past two decades.

That there’s only an estimated 20,000 lions roaming freely in the wild is largely a result of human conflict, the illegal pet trade and the trophy trade.

Where the wild things are: Lions can roam freely at Monarto.

“We have more lion statues in the world than lions in the wild,” Kat says. Today’s ticket fees will directly support the efforts of the Zambian Carnivore Program and fund 36 rangers to patrol Kenya’s 340,000-hectare Sera Conservancy.

Keeper Ethan Swart peers across the lion-less plateau, its only interruption a eucalypt with an oversized hanging cat toy swinging on a branch. “Everything here happens in lion time,” he says. “They’re not the most active species.”

A massive head soon appears, followed by the wide faces of three similarly majestic furballs. The other pride, resigned to the lockaway, roar in a sultry baritone that can travel up to eight kilometres. No kangaroo for them today, and they don’t sound too happy about it.

It’s a matter of minutes before the pride is above us, their toe pads pressed between gaps in the mesh. We’re advised to stay out of the “spray zone”, which is a particular issue for the males who have entered their marking phase, and a metre away from the sides as to not tempt feline fate.

Up close at mealtime: Lions come up to the steel mesh cage for food.Credit: Tourism Australia / South Australia

Chad sits like a puppy and tips his head sideways – eyelashes like strands of straw, ears like velvet shells – as I breathlessly proffer my treats. When he raises his paw to the cage, I can see the red desert beneath his nails.

Well-fed and quickly over our antics, Chad joins his siblings to lounge in the afternoon sun. The buzz among the Homo sapiens is palpable.

Half an hour later, we return to the visitor centre and I jog to the Zu-loop, a 90-minute hop-on-hop-off bus that crisscrosses all 1500 hectares. There are six stops, but I stay onboard watching emu and chick stroll alongside zebras and the magpie watching over the bison.

Long lunch: Feeding a giraffe at Monarto Safari Park.Credit: Zoos SA

A family of giraffes, the tallest at 5½ metres, find our stalled truck rather intriguing. I lock eyes with one as she wanders towards us, blinking quizzically as she wraps a blue-black tongue around a leafy lunch.

Is time standing still, or is it just the thrill of sharing breathing space with majestic savanna mammals without jetting to Africa? We pass napping cheetahs, white rhinos and ostriches sitting on eggs. Kangaroos roam throughout, springing over fences and pausing near saltbush.

When the zoo closes, I drive to the resort. Here, a contemporary Australian restaurant and luxe spa (with sauna and “vitality pool”) are available to day visitors, but the surrounding plains are a private wonderland for overnight guests.

I peek through the deck’s viewfinder binoculars and watch blue sky split grey clouds. I can’t see movement, but I can hear it: hooves, boundless and buoyant. Peeling away from the lens, my eyes adjust to the horizon just in time to witness zebras gallivanting with blackbuck, golden fields of Australian grasses waving in their wake.

THE DETAILS

DRIVE
Monarto Safari Park is a one-hour drive from Adelaide.

TOUR
Tickets for the Lions360 experience start at $75 for adults ($110 to feed a lion) and $60 for children. Entry to the park is free for Zoos SA members ($140 annually for adults). Non-members must book ahead and purchase park entry separately (from $49 for adults). See zoossa.com.au

STAY
Rooms at Monarto Safari Park, including four accessible rooms, cost from $350 a night. See monartosafari.com.au

The writer visited with support from Monarto Safari Park and South Australian Tourism Commission. See southaustralia.com