If you’ve ever wondered what a zoo is like at night, you can stop. It is a mysterious, murky world of anonymous animal noises, sleepy monkeys, even sleepier guards, and stray cats. Photos of the Wildlife Park make it look like a biblical apocalypse: animals stood two by two, lit up by an end-of-days-style lightning strike. The reality, like the lighting, is a lot less illuminating, with low-powered spotlights bathing the enclosures in a dim haze.
It certainly works better for some than others. The ibexes and oryxes look majestic, clambering the rocks and seeking out the limelight with Paris Hilton-like desperation. The lions, on the other hand, are the JD Salingers of the animal world, hiding studiously in the dark. Having spent five whole minutes pondering the immortal question: lioness or rock? – normally the last thing to go through an antelope’s mind – I leave their enclosure none the wiser.
Of course, then there’s the question of how to keep the animals awake. Images of gorillas chugging banana espressos spring to mind. The results are mixed. Nose pressed forcibly against the glass, I peer into the wolf enclosure. A big male saunters lazily up to me like a sleepy, hairy supermodel; it enacts an about-turn and ambles away, bored. Fair enough. Happily, the baboons raise their game, gladly mooning all and sundry, but the makaks sway like drowsy, tree-dwelling somnambulists. I don’t want them to Riverdance, but an ‘ook’ or two wouldn’t have gone amiss.
The reserve is by far the most impressive bit. In the dark it acquires a lingering sense of danger. The zebras knock against one another, scattering giraffes, birds and gazelles in the process. You could almost be on the Serengeti if it weren’t for the sight of the familiar road lights winding up Jebel Hafeet.
There are some disappointments. Bemused by the map, I enquire as to where the nocturnal house is. The reply is brusque: ‘It’s shut.’ ‘But the animals are nocturnal,’ I whine, ‘they’re the only ones supposed to be awake.’ Presumably the effort required to keep a flamingo from nodding off on the job isn’t worth expending on an owl which, by rights, ought to be on top form.
Then a peculiar thing happens. Gazing at the aviary, I look down to see a gnarly old street cat rubbing against my leg. I wonder if it’s a new interactive zoo angle. Bending down to give it a ruffle behind the ears, I’m rewarded with a feline stalker. At least it wakes up the monkeys, who view my companion with wary, fidgety eyes – as do the guards. ‘Nothing to see here,’ I mutter. ‘Just a man taking his cat for a walk in a night zoo.’ Eventually my scruffy companion gets into a staring match with another stray and I make a fast exit.
Zoos bring out a strange competitive streak in me. Seeing creatures normally only glimpsed on the slopes of Nepal quickly becomes passé. ‘A barbary? If it goes baa, it’s a sheep, mate!’ ‘Gazelle? Isn’t that just a poor man’s oryx?’ I practically bounce from one enclosure to another in search of bigger horns, sharper teeth and pointier claws.
Naturally, it’s only a matter of time before I end up at the reptile house – closed. I console myself with crocodiles. Stairs lead down underneath the enclosure until you’re eye to beady reptilian eye with the beasts themselves. All alone (the crowds are pretty thin), it feels rather like I’ve broken in and I make a triumphant, if furtive, getaway.
My appetite for monsters well and truly sated, I set off in search of penguins, a personal favourite and a creature which surely has more to complain about than most, having swapped blissful arctic snow for sweltering desert sand. Unfortunately it’s hidden away at the other end of the zoo and by the time I admit that I need directions I’m told that it closed at 9pm. A glance at my watch reveals that it is 9.04pm. Curse you, street cat!
In the end, the night zoo can be puzzling and frustrating but it is really good fun. There are flaws: it’s too dark to read any of the information plaques (except in the glow of an iPod screen) and a lot of the animals are a bit dozy, but it’s such a strange experience that for novelty value alone it’s worth the entry fee. Just make sure that you don’t pet the animals – particularly the stray cats.
Where: Al Ain Wildlife Park & Resort. 90- minute drive from Abu Dhabi and Dubai.
Opening hours: 4pm-midnight on Saturday-Thursday and 10am-midnight on Friday until September 30 (Wild Nights); 9pm- 2am daily during Ramadan
Tickets: Dhs15 per adult, Dhs5 per child 3-12 years, free for children under 2 years. Combination tickets for the Zoo and Dinosaur Trail are Dhs25 per adult and Dhs15 per child.
For further information and schedule details: visit www.awpr.ae.
