Spent the last two nights at Chitwa Chitwa Camp in the Sabi Sand Game Reserve adjoining Kruger Park. The reserve is well known for its prolific game viewing, especially leopard, and it did not disappoint.

Upon exiting the Timbavati via our own vehicle, the map we had offered a couple of conventional routes or the options for a couple of shortcuts. Despite having a low clearance car, I elected to take the shortcut over the dirt roads of South Africa. A few dips and turns later and about 2 hours after departure, we were at the gate of the Sabi Sand. Never can tell when one will get a good surprise in this part of the world. A local black female stepped out from the guard house. She was decked out in some tight, tan khakis and some pumps that might have her fit in quite well in a club in Atlanta. Here she was miles and miles from the closest clothing store, herds of elephant and prides of lion in her midst, and she was sporting a look that said Saturday night Midtown written all over it. I dress like Paul Bunyan for a cocktail party and our local gate attendant in the Kruger Park looks ready to compete on Dancing with the Stars.

Another 5-6 miles into the last leg of our journey I was ready to pull into the lodge and kick up my feet when there in the distance on the road appeared the most unlikely member of our convoy – a leopard. At first I figured it must be something different – a warthog, an impala – anything but a leopard. The Sabi Sand is well known for its leopard sightings but this revelation is a bit over and above the possible. I took a few extra looks just to make sure I was seeing a leopard and commenced to get my camera equipment out as quickly as possible. Ole Murphy’s law kicked in again when I looked in the backseat and realized my camera and video recorder were in the trunk. A little heart beat skipped as I considered my options. Protocol called for me to not leave my vehicle under any circumstances but calculated risk called for me to get to the trunk immediately. I scrapped the protocol and eased myself out the door very slowly as the leopard continued to walk about 30 yards ahead of me. Big no no, here and I knew it but I kept my eyes sighted on the cat and moved slowly. Just as we are told on game drives, once the silhouette of the vehicle is broken, the animal’s attention will change quickly and this fact was proven. I got the door open about half way when all of a sudden the leopard stopped walking, looked over its shoulder in a fixed stare riveted right on me. Despite being in an uncomfortable position, I froze. The animal continued to stand motionless and his gaze affixed. After about 60 seconds, he turned and continued to walk back on the road. In the interim I managed to get my bag out of the trunk and quickly assemble my camera.

A combination of excitement and panic kicked in as I expected the leopard to disappear into the high grass at anytime. As unfortunate I was in the equipment being in the trunk I was rewarded with some good luck when the leopard simply continued to amble down the road. I drove a bit closer and a bit closer, all the while running the video camera and driving at a rate to close the gap. After a couple minutes I sat even with the cat, he seemingly unperturbed by my presence. His gait never changed, only occasionally peering to his left to give me the once over. Eventually, we were but about 5 feet from the leopard. He allowed us access to his private world for another couple minutes before he wandered into to the dense bush off to the right. As I appeared to see him, thinking he was lost, I came across his last stare directed right at us through the tall grass. While we fidgeted and squirmed to find the leopard one last time, once we picked up his steely gaze, I realized he had been watching us for a few minutes with ease. As I have been told, a leopard is only seen if it wants to be seen. There is no sneaking up on a leopard. He confirmed this truth and then left us.

Needless to say, the last 2 miles to Chitwa Chitwa blew by in a blur. Pulling up to the camp, we were met by the camp manager, Shannon, and the head ranger, Tristan. Shannon gave us the introduction to the property in her office but we then were ushered around the corner to gain the full view and what a layout it was. The entrance to the lodge was designed in such a way, now that I think about it just now, that lent itself to having the curtain come up to a stage production. Laid out in the near distance sat a lake, created by a dam to the left. The dam wall was hardly of notice and appeared quite natural. The

main area of the lodge was vast and incorporated a viewing deck as big as I have ever seen. Hard to get such a water source and massive unobstructed game viewing area in one spot.

The room itself left nothing to be desired. Private plunge pool overlooking the lake, large poster king size bed, indoor and outdoor shower, bathroom the size of a garage and a sitting area, complete with iPod player and fridge and fireplace.

We were introduced to our game ranger, Andries, and his tracker, Patrick, as well as the accompanying couple on our vehicle, Jo and Chris Crombie from just outside Southampton, England. Not but a few minutes after we pulled out of the lodge, we ran into 4 elephants, the mother on one side of the road and three younger ones on the other side. Andries identified the three on the left all as offspring to the mother. Staggered in age, they ranged from about 14 to 8 to but about 2 months in age. The mother was quite relaxed but we could tell the others wanted to cross the road, unsure about the obstruction, us, in its path. Interesting to note was the attention lauded upon the baby by its older siblings. They both protected it by placing it between the two of them and also both elders nudged and stoked it with

their trunks. The little guy eventually calmed and spent a bit of time extending its trunk in our direction. Elephants of this size do not yet know how to utilize their trunks so watching them attempt to understand the appendage is of good entertainment. Not too often do we get to view multiple elephant siblings alone with a very small baby. The group finally managed to gain the gumption to cross the road and join their mother. They all 4 then wandered off and disappeared quicker than animals of this size and color should be able to do.

As the sun began its descent, the light reached a point that makes for good picture taking. Zebra are hard to shoot, regardless of the light, in my opinion. Their stripes look to be just right for getting enough angles right to get a few good photos but it just does not work out so well for me. As the sun began its fall one zebra sat high up on a dam wall, offering full viewing. The light seemed to work much better on this occasion. I’ll have to see if we can get a good shot out of the mix.

The sundowners offered us a chance to get to know Chris and Jo. My inclination is to ask a few more questions than the regular guy. In asking what Chris did for work he simply replied, “Retail”. Such a basic answer told me he was either a cashier or the CEO. Turns out the latter guess was correct as his company was just sold to a private equity group. Chris started when he was 22 years old when the chain, Hobby Craft, had but one store. He became CEO and the company eventually grew to 50 outlets in 16 years. They had been married for 7 years and were taking their anniversary trip back to South Africa. As the next two days unfolded, Chris and Jo and us got along quite well. They were of good company. Later we learned that Chris had started her own business selling dolls online. I took a look at the website and from the appearance of it and her discussions on the subject, I believe her business to be of success, too.

After packing up the tables and glasses we used during our sundowners, Andries took us but for a another 10 minute drive until we crossed into a large opening where laid out in front of us were 3 mature rhinos. Often weighing in at 3 tons, these animals look like tanks really. The two horns on their noses are impressive, the larger one sometimes reaching lengths of more than 3 feet in length. Their skin has folds in it so thick that when I have seen a dead rhino in the wild, the scavengers can feed upon and digest the entire carcass except the skin and the bones. The skin is so think even the hyena have a very difficult time biting through it. Their footprints appear more like the outline of a small tire, they are so big. Turns out we were looking at two males and one female rhino, the younger and larger male running some cover on the female. At one point, the older male made the mistake of getting too close to the bigger male and a small fight ensued resulting in the challenger being dismissed in but a few seconds. The younger male was content allowing the older male to forage with them, but he was not amenable to the older male getting too close to his female.

We did not get too far down the road until we ran into a big warthog. These guys might well be the creative basis for some of the less attractive alien species in a Hollywood film. Four prominent warts rest on the sides of the head and two tusks protrude from the lower jaw upward. The tusks looks to be too big for the animal’s head, making for an ever more intimidating stance as he started us from but 6 feet away. Part of the benefit of seeing the animals is such a reserve is to enjoy the intimacy of close proximity. These animals are simply not concerned about presence as long as we remain in the vehicle. After about 15 minutes the warthog went on about his way into the bush.

As dusk settled in upon us we were preparing for the final hour of our drive being enjoyed in the dark but with a spotlight to help us see the animals. A call then came into Andries on his radio that another leopard had been sighted nearby. Given the sun was falling, we made haste to get to the sighting as quickly as possible. The resulting speed meant a little extra jostling in the back seat but by the time we arrived the ever so slight readjusting of our spines was worth it as there laid out in the grass but 6 feet from the road was a large, healthy male. Seeing these animals so close is an impressive and rewarding experience. One can appreciate the finer details of

what brings these creatures to the top of the list when guests are asked what they would like to see. As I mentioned prior, the leopard is most difficult to spot given its solitary existence and it nocturnal habits. We are here in a reserve the size of a county in the US but have now been privy to see two leopards in but a few hours. Additional to note is the size of the animal’s head. From a distance this cat looks like something which a large man might very well be able to defend himself from but at this distance it is confirmed that no man would stand a chance against this predator, despite his weight of but about 180 pounds. Andries eventually drove us to within 3 feet of the leopard practically running over its tail but the leopard never moved an inch. Simply amazing to see how close we can get to the animals while we are in the vehicle.

Dusk turned quickly to night and we began the drive back to the lodge. Patrick, the spotter who sat on the front hood of the car, worked the floodlight from the left to right, scanning the trees and open fields. Game is hard to spot at night for the untrained eye and I have been quite poor at this task. These guys are the exception and soon thereafter Patrick proved himself worthy when he motioned for Andries to stop the vehicle. He shined the light into the tree and motioned for us to take a closer look. We still could not see anything other than leaves and limbs. He then got out of the vehicle and walked over to about a shoulder height branch and gently laid out his finger upon which a chameleon, the size of his thumb, walked out and onto his arm. He brought it over to us for closer inspection. The little guy seemed not too perturbed and simple walked right up Andries’ arm and then onto his head. These pictures proved to be some of the best of the day and night. Andries let us all take the chameleon into our hands and he proceeded to do exactly the same thing in walking up and onto our arms. All in all, a very interesting and rewarding experience. Children would have loved the interaction with the chameleon.

We arrived back into the lodge at about 7PM, retired to the room, showered and then enjoyed a fine, table clothed dinner of kudu flank steak. Shannon joined me for dinner as Amy decided to go to bed early. Shannon proved an interesting story herself in having started out as a banker in Johannesburg but after a few years of the corporate world, shunned the briefcase and high heels and exchanged them for serving as the manager for luxury accommodation in the heart of the bush in South Africa.

Wednesday morning wake up call came at 5:30AM, followed by tea and coffee on the deck. There we met another couple in camp, Leo and his wife, Mila, from, what was told to me was Russia. I had given them a wide berth when they arrived at the afternoon game drive the day prior as I was under the impression they did not speak English. Turns out I was wrong and once I introduced myself to Leo and asked where he was from he informed me that his hometown was Las Vegas. Turns out he and Mila moved there 15 years ago from their home country of Lithuania. Leo is a neurosurgeon and they proved to be good company during our afternoon exchange. Then, off again to the afternoon game drive.

Perhaps it should come as no surprise by now, but 15 minutes after leaving the lodge we pulled into the area which served as the landing strip for private planes and there in the middle of the field was another leopard. So, now we are at 3 leopards in about 18 hours. Such numbers can only be enjoyed in the Sabi Sand, I believe. This particular leopard was again unfazed by both our presence and that of another game viewing vehicle facing us. The leopard stood in between the two vehicles and oddly enough a lone wildebeest stood just beyond the other vehicle. Most often such prey and predator species will not be in such close proximity but I knew from prior trips that the wildebeest, in an open area such as this airport landing strip, will prefer to keep the predator within easy sight so as to remove the risk of being surprised. Without the element of stealth, most predators will not attack. So, we watched this benign game of cat and mouse unfold for the ensuing 15 minutes with the wildebeest letting out an occasional alarm call, yet there were no other wildebeest nearby to hear it. Eventually, cat and prey went to their neutral corners and we moved on once the leopard disappeared.

Further down the road we came upon a female giraffe and her calf, only 2-3 months old. I was a little surprised at the age Andries assigned to the offspring as the baby giraffe probably stood at close to 10 feet tall. Given they are about 6 feet at birth and Andries told us they grow about 2 centimeters a day, the math probably adds up. The knobs on top of the baby giraffes head were especially full with thick black hair. The females have hair on the knobs and the males do not. This process is the simplest means by which to determine the sex of the animal.

By this time our conversations with Chris and Jo were expanding into all sorts of subject matter. They were proving to be good companions during these game drives. In these such lengthy drives and intimate quarters, one cannot over emphasize the importance of the camaraderie within the vehicle.

There certainly was no shortage of plains game species here in the Sabi Sand as impala, kudu and a good number of waterbuck showed up in big numbers. A proliferation of birdlife was laid out for us each day. Hard to describe the colors on the birds here. From the lilac breasted roller’s rainbow of colors to the brightly colored starlings to the yellow horn bill, the myriad of colors and species is never ending. Chris was interested in birds so we stopped and enjoyed them all while he snapped photos through his Canon telephoto lenses. The eagles and hawks in this part of the world are numerous and with Chris’ camera he was able to both zoom in from great distance as well as catch them in mid flight, wings unfurled. His pictures were quite stunning.

Another tea and coffee break was followed by a swing through another open field where a herd of some 15 elephant sat before us, all lazily going about their feeding. We pulled ever closer and then sat just in the center such that the herd was around us in all directions. A real added bonus was the fact that again,

there were babies in the group. Two looked to be quite young, perhaps one was 2-3 months old and the other maybe a year or two. As the little ones sat off amusing themselves at a small mud hole, one of the mid sizes females, perhaps 20 – 25 years of age, meandered over to pay us a bit closer inspection. She approached Patrick at the front bumper, raising her trunk and taking in our scent. She would raise and lower her appendage, eventually getting to within touching distance. She never evoked any fear in our group, in fact, she may well have been a calming influence. Her intentions were ones of investigation and not alarms. We spent the ensuing 30 minutes within the herd until they moved off and continued to feed.

As we spent some time thereafter having Chris snap a variety of bird shots, we found ourselves in a rather relaxed, leisurely drive. Having someone so interested in birds can be a healthy addition to the usual safari rider who may be in never ending search of the more well known creatures of these parts.

Another call came into Andries and he then told us there had been an additional leopard sighting. Wow, now a 4th leopard to view and we had not yet been here for 48 hours. This spot is certainly well known for the leopard viewing and it did not disappoint.

Last night I accompanied Ian and Louisa to a friend’s house who was celebrating his birthday. Jack and his wife Jill hosted us in their recently purchased home on the Constantia Nek Road. That road can be a bit busy with traffic so to the uneducated passerby one would believe the houses are perhaps hold a slight negative to other houses in the area. As I discovered, to make such an assumption would be wrong.

We passed on through the road side gate and stepped into the house. Out the back door we came through to the patio and then a sweeping view of the Hout Bay valley with mountain tops circling us from all sides. The backyard must have been a hundred yards and flat; flat is often hard to find in Cape Town. The yard was equally as impressive in width and was bordered by white blooming flowers on one side and a fence filled with purple morning glories on the opposite side. The very back of the yard exposed itself to a creek, wide enough for Ian and Juliet to enjoy for a dip in the cool water.

Jack and Jill introduced their two boys, ages about 10 and 6, as well as two other couples and their children. Vanessa and Mark had two girls ages about 13 and 7, as well as a boy perhaps 9. The last couple proved to be of great interest to me after I realized the husband, Colin, was an employee of the Coca-Cola Company in Cape Town. Their two girls rounded out a group of 9 adults (Simon and Penny Waterkeyn, my friends as well, were on site with their 3 children, too) and 10 children. What began as a casual chit chat with Colin about the world of Coca Cola turned ever more interesting when he learned I had worked for one of the bottlers in the US, Coca-Cola Consolidated, Inc., based in Charlotte. Small world turned smaller yet when Colin told me had spent a week in Charlotte touring the bottler.

Smaller became bubble like when Colin spoke to me about the recent death of the largest shareholder and CEO, Frank Harrison. His son, James, I believe, had spent some time in South Africa the prior year and eventually started an organization to help some of the black Africans a bit further north, perhaps in East Africa. From friends at Coke, I received some of the news of James’ death earlier in the year and Colin confirmed the remainder. Looks like James, about 25 years old, got sick and his illness turned to pneumonia. He did not call for help soon enough and he died. I must find out in what country he died. Sad story all the way around. Colin told me that James had been looked after by another local South African Coke employee, an Afrikaner, whom Frank Harrison liked so much he invited over to the US for a bit of a tour.

Our day began about 3PM and did not wrap up until about 9. As with most braais, the portions were large and there was no shortage of protein. Steaks, lamb chops, boerewors, etc. flowed. We all participated in a rousing adult/child volleyball match followed by a game of rounders. Rounders is a bit like a merging of cricket and baseball – 4 bases, one baseball bat like baseball, but rules such as getting out meant you permanently sat out the remainder of the offensive effort and one could be out if hit with the ball and running towards a base. The competitive juices were flowing. The tall, trim blonde, Vanessa, had quite a good arm for a lady.

Spent the last two days walking the streets of Camp’s Bay and spending plenty of time in the sun and on the beach. The weather has been exceptional these last few days with temperatures of about 80 degrees and not a cloud in the sky.

Camp’s Bay has become my favorite beach in Cape Town if for only the right mix of beach, accommodation and activity within but 3 blocks. Like most all parts of Cape Town, the slope onto the beach is dramatic from just a few hundred yards inland. The Twelve Apostles are 3,000 foot mountains that serve as an impressive backdrop to this flat, long and wide beach. Restaurants and a few bars hug the street opposite the beach offering just enough attraction but not so much that it is overwhelming (a la too many parts of the US).

My pouring over the streets was more than just for a stroll as I’ve needed to expand my offerings for accommodation in Camp’s Bay and walking this area is probably the best way to accomplish my goal. Nice to do so in flip flops and a t-shirt. Little bit of walking, little bit of calling and a little bit of beach time – not a bad combination for the weekend. There are enough attractions to keep anyone content adding a bit of people watching, too.

Friday night Ian and Louisa invited me a friend’s birthday party, Pippa and Alex Harrington were hosting a party for the male member of the duo in honor of his birthday. The party was a cowboy theme and while Ian and Louisa managed to take a few items from their children’s stash to look enough like Marshall Dillon and Festus from Gunsmoke, I managed to bring along what scored me the most points, an American cowboy accent.

The party was held at the oldest hotel in Cape Town, the Kimberly. The stage coach used to pull up at the hotel on its route north to the diamond fields of Kimberly. Cecil John Rhoades spent many a day in the late 1800′s in the bar where the party began.

What started off as a benign group of friends turned into a rather boisterous crowd of revelers perhaps 100 strong. Beer, wine and spirits flowed from start to a rather embarrassing finish time for me of 3AM. Despite being the lone American and not knowing anyone at the start but Ian and Louisa, the liquids flowed strong enough and the ladies dressed attractively enough that I was the last one to greet the birthday boy a fair good night. During the interim 6 hours, I managed to meet a lovely young woman, dressed in full dancing girl western regalia, by the name of Dominique Botha. Oh was she easy on the eyes and was kind enough to enjoy my southern accent. If only she had not been the mother of 4 and the wife of 1, I would have made haste to meet the man she called Pappa, further to the north in her birthed land of the Orange Free State. Dominique Botha? You just cannot dislike that name. It roles from the tongue in a poetic resonance with which Shakespeare would like to bandy about. But alas, I digress.

Hout Bay

The evening was capped off by deciding to take a cab home to Hout Bay with my friends Simon and Penny as Ian and Louisa had left about midnight (perhaps a good idea come daybreak).

We were all quite inebriated, inebriated enough for us to agree to the taxi, meet the taxi, have Penny and I get in the taxi and then watch Simon walk off into a direction we did not understand. Penny and I looked for him after 10 minutes of his absence but only managed to have a few minutes dialogue with the more drunken car park guard. He could not make heads or tails of what we needed but filled Penny with enough wandering comments to have her wonder where her husband could have gone. Simon was not answering the phone so angst began to rise on Penny’s part until finally she just decided we must go back home to Hout Bay. En route Simon called to report he had taken their car home and was OK. Penny was relieved but not pleased.

The moon over the Atlantic on Victoria Road during our drive home was most impressive. Turns out that the moon on this date was closer to the earth than at any time since 1992. I wish I had the camera to take in the site. Never have I seen such a moon in such a spot and so bright. There was no need for headlights as the moon caste a strong shadow over anything between it and the earth. Quite a site.

Upon arrival last night into Cape Town and being dutifully picked up at the airport by Louisa, the never ending gracious hostess, her like minded husband, Ian asked me if I wanted to join our friend, Simon Waterkeyn, on a hike up Table Mountain in the AM. Ask me twice? No. I was all in.

Simon and I were to meet at the cable car station at 8AM and I managed to just beat the deadline and we were off. There is no daylight savings time in South Africa so in summer the sun rises early, perhaps 6AM. By 8AM it is already starting to get warm on a sunny day (the only reprieve, a big one, is that Cape Town is almost void of humidity). We decided on the standard Plattekloof (flat cliff or mountain in Afrikaans).

Table Mountain is 3,500 feet high but we started at a point about half way up. The initial portions of the climb are not so strenuous with rock steps being found intermittently between some flat stretches on trail. I had a liter of water with me and 2 apples. By the time I reached the top I’d be happy to have both and wish I had more.

Start of the hike, Simon & Sidney

End point in the gap ahead at 3,500 feet

When the climb started to get steep we were met by a long, tall, gangly Zimbabwean named Sidney. A black man of 27 years of age, Sidney had lived in Cape Town for 10 years, working as an artist making wire figurines and selling the to the tourists. Simon and I walked and chatted with Sidney for perhaps 30 minutes at which time Simon reminded me he had a meeting at 10:30 back in Cape Town and he had to make haste. These words from Simon were entertaining on two fronts, 1) what a wonderful place to live to enjoy such a hike up to 3,500 feet and return before a morning meeting and 2) how difficult it would be to find many of my friend swilling to take part in such an activity back at home. The attractiveness to this type of exercise never gets old. This will prove to be the second time I’ve climbed the Plattekloof route, the first being with my nephew Charlie about 18 months prior.

The Plattekloof route faces directly into the city center of Cape Town which is about a north westerly direction. The sun was already high now at 9:15AM or so as Simon, with my blessing, began his faster ascent, leaving Sidney and I together. Many other people climb this route, too, so we pass or are passed by another 15 to 20 people along the way – all with varying degrees of exhaustion. By comparison, I would say our need for rest was about average. Some people looked to not need to be on the mountain while others looked to need a greater challenge.

Cape Town harbor behind us

Sidney and I were thinking as one in considering rest breaks. As the sun was directly to our backs, and the shrubbery was flat and small, there was little shade. Yet, we managed to find a few bushes and rock faces in which to hide for 15 minutes or so before continuing on.

Further up we managed to make better time and I believe we managed to crest the top at about 10:30AM. Simon texted me and had already reached the top, enjoyed his coffee and the small store and returned back via cable car to make his 10:30AM meeting. Having taken the easier timed hike, I am impressed with Simon’s accomplishment.

View of Camp’s Bay below from atop Table Mountain

Sidney and I walked the top of Table Mountain for about 30 minutes, took in the sea views, parted company with a hearty handshake and I then went off for a bit longer walk onto the south side of the mountain.

Great way to start the day.

Given my proclivity for fish and chips here in Cape Town, I headed to my favorite spot, Fish on the Rocks in Hout Bay, and with great satisfaction, laid into an oder of hake and chips with some peri peri sauce and a large, bottle Coke. Good eats and fine scenery at the Hout Bay harbor. One can sit there and take in the view from across the harbor and onto the impressiveness of the Chapman’s Peak Drive. This was one grease laden meal that I felt I had earned.

Yesterday, our second day at Mana Pools was as productive as could be asked for. We awoke at dawn (about 6AM) and massed for some coffee and tea prior to departure on a morning game drive and walk. Waking up to a fire overlooking the Zambezi River is hard to beat. The temperature during this time of year is just right for mornings and evenings. With daytime temperatures reaching as high as the low 70′s, shorts are appropriate by about mid morning. Sitting around the fire in the early morning hours the temperature was probably about 55 degrees as well as in the evening, maybe 50 degrees. The climate in this part of the world continues to impress me despite a decade of coming here.

Stretch was determined to see lion and elephant on foot and such set out again to track lion. He and some of the other guests had heard lion the night prior (I was asleep the whole night and heard nothing) so he felt confident about our chances for a sighting this morning. Not 200 yards from the campsite he came across the lions tracks so we set off on foot in pursuit. Along the way Stretch stopped at a hippo
pool where we enjoyed the advantage of viewing it from high ground. He was hopeful we could enjoy some reaction from the hippos so given our protective high ground, we ventured close to the edge of the pool. We all sensed that the big bull was getting agitated as he stared at us and began his typical territorial call. The sound is similar in strength to that of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Over and over he grunted until finally he came completely out of the water and lunged at us in an act of aggression. Given the place from which we viewed the display we enjoyed the intimacy of the moment yet from a point well out of harm’s way.

As we scanned over the same water hole, Stretch and Mark broke out their binoculars. Soon thereafter, Mark saw the big two male lions in the distance. We were fortunate Mark saw them as they were well off into the distance, perhaps 500 yards. Like a man who had just seen his first lion Stretch showed the excitement of a young boy and exclaimed, “Let’s get serious”. He picked up his .375 rifle and lead us on a long walk of about 45 minutes behind the watering hole separating us from the lions in order to make sure we were downwind from the animals. As we approached where we thought the animals lay Stretch reviewed the rules for engagement with us which were 1) under no circumstances could we run 2) no talking and 3) let him know if one of us was uncomfortable. Everyone in our group had taken part in a walking safari so we were ready to go. Stretch came upon the large bushes where he thought the lions were resting and approached the side of these bushes as a policeman would have approached possibly armed criminals. He was walking on eggshells and with me in the second position just behind him I began to feel the heat of the moment. My anxiety was only increased when Stretch could not find the lions. I thought my concern was high enough when we were pursuing lions on foot which we had seen but that feeling was superseded by pursuing lions we now could not find.

Stretch called back for us to retreat to a felled tree for what I thought was a break where he would tell

us the lion pursuit was off now. In a very casual way he then told us he had seen the 2 male lions around some other bushes and we would now be approaching them from downwind. He massed us behind a mopane tree and let us all see where the lions were resting in the shade. They were but 100 yards away and Stretch then lined up Mark, Peter and me to begin crawling on our asses towards the lion. There was a termite mound at about the halfway point and Stretch wanted us to inch towards this spot. So, the three of us took off in good sight of the lions. We closed the distance to perhaps 75 yards when one of the males perked up from his rest and stared hard in our direction. Being eye level with these boys was a different feeling altogether. Just as Stretch predicted, the lions, once they saw us, got up and moved off into another direction. For all the fear these animals present in the minds of humans I have seen over and over again that the advice Stretch gave about all animals being very skittish about things they d not recognize in daylight once again came true. The same message stands on its head when the sun sets when animals realize they have the advantage and what they do not recognize they will come to investigate. The feeling of pursuing these beats on foot, seeing them and then moving closer is a wonderful experience and one I am glad to have enjoyed.

The lion pursuit took most all the morning so we then headed back to the vehicle and back to camp. The meals here are to be appreciated given the remoteness of the location as well as the lack of electricity. The entire camp is setup from scratch each April and taken down again in November. A visit to the kitchen proved to be meaningful in understanding the efforts of the cooks. The view of the river from the kitchen was better than the view from any kitchen in the US or elsewhere but the vista was offset by its simplicity. There was a large, conventional gas cook stove and oven, as well as sink with running water which sounds like all that is needed in addition to a few tables but to walk into such a place allowed me to fully appreciate the culinary delights served just on the other side of the reed wall. The cook, Richard, was a local and he served up everything from au gratin potatoes to marinated pork to
salads to freshly baked bread rolls to chocolate cake for dessert.

The dinner table, complete with white sand floor, sat but 10 feet from the edge of the river and used the canopy of a large mopane tree as a ceiling. Our group dove into a late breakfast of cereals, fruit, cheeses, eggs, sausage, bacon, potatoes and all that usually goes with the safari style breakfast yet we I

could not imagine a place further from the ease of an urban kitchen. Stretch opened up with a few more stories about his animal encounters and when opportunities for merriment arose the group was fortunate enough to take in the laugh that I wish all could have heard. It has often been said that married couples can begin to resemble one another in appearance after a number of years but in this case it may be a case of animal and man. Stretch’s laugh sounded much to me like that of a hippo call. This association can be hard to make for both the non African visitor as well as the person who frequents safaris. The former cannot imagine the sound of the hippo and the latter cannot imagine the call of the hippo has a human imitator. Rachel and I had a hard time concentrating on the stories at the table if Stretch began to then laugh. His laugh was both a pleasure to hear and also quite infectious.

Another warm outdoor shower at my tent was accompanied by a one hour nap before we headed out for our afternoon game walk.

Stretch was interested in finding us another intimate animal encounter and this time he was concentrating on elephant although I still find it hard to believe one can “concentrate” on finding anything except what is presented as it may show itself. Yet, having watched Stretch work over the last day and a half I had no trouble doubting his ability to find what he wanted.

We were now 7 in our group, all of whom had settled in quite nicely with one another. I continued to feel fortunate having been able to share these last few nights and days all with citizens of Harare. Their stories and perspective were of interest to me and all consuming during the times away from the game walks. I was the only person on the vehicle who was not a resident of Harare.

We took a few circuitous routes around the reserve offering us glimpses into the variety of topography. At the shoreline of the Zambezi, the ground was flat, sandy and offered plenty of tree cover from large mopanes. As we drove further inland a few kilometers the trees were not as large but the bush still thick until we then came upon the areas in which walking safaris are so popular. The ground then opened up to offering as smaller number of bigger trees, open plains and a proliferation of large watering holes allowing the opportunity to see and stalk game from long distance. Game does not like to be surprised so the extended viewing opportunities were a bonus to both us and the animals when we approached. It was not too long thereafter that Stretch stopped the Land Rover at one of the larger pools (Mana Pools means four pools in the local Shona language). Stretch redirected us back along our same tracks and I was bit confused as to why until we created a small hill and there below us was a full grown bull elephant eating the water hyacinths from the pool. Stretch delayed little in walking straight up, over and down the hill onto the pool’s edge where he rested but 20 feet from the elephant. Stretch spoke a little bit to make sure the lone bull knew we were there. The big fellow did take notice of us and took a few steps our way in waters up to the top of his legs.

I huddled in behind Stretch and by the time the bull stopped coming our way he was but 10 feet from us. At this vantage point the elephant was at eye level with us and this perspective offered yet another experience for me. I could tell we group of humans was a bit anxious except for Stretch who looked as comfortable as a man in his favorite chair at home. We all sat on the bank for 30 minutes or so while the elephant went back to feeding, extending his trunk to its greatest length, choosing the best hyacinths with the tip of his nimble appendage and then bringing the morsels up to his mouth. The elephant hardly broke stride as we took in our front row seat. This afternoon session took us right into a rapidly retreating sunset, a sight we all enjoyed during the drive back to camp.

The view of the setting sun over the mountains in Zambia with the mighty Zambezi in the foreground is a view, I would imagine, that never gets old. The hues of red, blue, purple, yellow and orange filled the sky as we sat around the campfire.

This particular evening turned out to be especially entertaining with a braai in order with such copious amounts of meat and fish for ingestion I surmised it could not all be eaten. Stretch manned the fire and with drinks flowing and guests of Ruth and Mark’s onsite, the stories ripened as the sky turned dark. Rory and Mel Hoal joined us and immediately Rory came to life when I asked him about the history of Zimbabwe and Rhodesia. Rory and Mel are about 65 years old and spent their lives in Rhodesia and Zimbabwe aside from Mel’s youth in Cape Town. Ruth told me that Mel’s father was the conductor of the Cape Town orchestra during her childhood. I managed to gain some immediate credibility when Rory asked me when Rhodesia claimed its first right to shed itself of Commonwealth status and I properly answered 1922. I could see that he was quite surprised with my correct answer and thus carried on with his history lesson, perhaps somewhat elevated in content due to my answer to his inquiry. Rory went on to tell me that there is a document (not of interest to the UK government to be advertised) which shows that the Rhodesian government “purchased” the farms of Rhodesia from England for a sum of 2 million British Pounds in 1922. While this documentation is now public the powers that be keep it from being front page news lest the UK government become accountable to pay back the white farmers for the farms they have lost to land invasions since 2000.

Stretch filled the evening with a number of stories as we all ate our meals of boerwors, lamb chops, fish from the river, potatoes, spinach and salad while surrounding the fire. We all retired into our tents by about 11PM and readied ourselves with slumber for the final morning of our stay at Goliath Safaris on the banks of the Zambezi River.

Henk Visagie’s house, Pretoria, South Africa

Last night was a tough defeat for the Dutch national soccer team as they lost the final to Spain bringing their number of finals losses to 3 in the history of the World Cup. I made a strong attempt to meet my cousin, Aeisso, at the game given he flew down from Holland to see the match with some friends. He already had a ticket so by the time my plane landed from Nairobi at 12 noon and after spending a few hours at the airport organizing myself (emails, money changed, airline flights amended) I took a small bus down to Soccer Stadium outside Johannesburg. The crowd was big heading into the stadium despite it being only close to 5PM and a full 3 and ½ hours from the time the game would start. I felt like there was a chance for me to get a ticket outside the stadium and committed to stay until the game started to see how things shook out.

Again there was a sea of orange coming into the stadium. I began seeing the same people over and over again who wanted to see the game. We all hung our hats at Gate H and watched the minutes tick down to the open of the match. Tickets were scarce and when I could overhear a conversation the prices were well above $1,000 apiece. The time passed and the night grew colder until by 8:15PM the prices were not coming down below $1,000 each. I, along with plenty of Germans, Italians and South Americans I got to know, all left to find a TV. I drove back to Henk’s house in Pretoria and watched the undesired outcome of the match.

Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge, Volcanoes National Park, Rwanda

I made it back to Nairobi on Friday via a private plane flight back into the Mara with Rex, the pilot from New Zealand and Dave, another white Kenyan about 65 years old who serves as a photographer and fill in camp manager for Governors Camps.

Landing at the smaller Nairobi Wilson airport I was transported to the main airport for my flight into Kigali, Rwanda. The flight departed at about 5 PM and landed again about an hour and fifteen minutes later. There was another 2 hours of sunlight left so coming into the airport I got a good view of the surrounds. I knew very little about Rwanda prior to arrival other than the tribal war that peaked about 15 years ago between the Tsutsi and the Hutus resulting in 800,000 people being murdered in the course of but a few months. Hearing such stories would make anyone a bit nervous to arrive but I came to see the Mountain Gorillas in Volcanoes National Park. There are but 700 left in the wild so the choices of where to go are limited to this mountain range near Lake Victoria where Rwanda, Uganda and the Democrat Republic of the Congo (DRC) meet. The DRC is in terrible shape with UN forces on the ground to keep the peace so seeing the gorillas there is not a good idea.

As the plane descended I could not help but notice that this large city of 1 million and the surrounding countryside looked more orderly than what Nairobi looked like from a thousand feet. I had heard that Rwanda was a clean and tidy country and upon meeting my driver Alphonse, and his son Valentin, my information proved to be correct. The airport was small but well kept and as the city rolled out in front of me, despite its lacking buildings of any size, the streets were void of trash and the shops and houses, while simple, were well kept. This sighting was a great contrast to Nairobi’s sea of humanity, broken traffic lights and dirty condition. The people in Kigali were simply dressed but clean and the locals were quite friendly, especially the children, much more open to engagement than the Kenyans, I thought.

Alphonse and Valentin drove me the two and one half hours up to Sabyinyo Silverback Lodge, also a Governors’ Camp property. It was easy to tell we had reached a considerable elevation as the walk up the many, many steps and on the hand-made sidewalk took more of my breath but the view from the patio was well worth the effort. Upon entering the main building, the feel of the place was immediately inviting – a large fire in the lobby, hardwood floors throughout, clapboard ceilings and large comfortable furniture. Taking in such accommodation in Africa is always of interest to me because of the oases found in such locales so far away from civilization and right at the cusp of full on nature.

There, Mountain Gorillas groups were only a few miles from us in the dense jungle but here we sat in a dwelling of such comfort that nothing more could be asked if we found ourselves in New York City. The staff on duty generously offered to serve me dinner and another excellent one it was of grilled beef, potato cakes, green beans, salad and crème brulette for dessert. I met the manager, Bernard, a Frenchman of about 60 years of age and we had a brief discussion about the issue with my gorilla permit (only 8 people are allowed into the park each day to view each of the 7 gorilla families). My permit called for viewing the gorillas on the 11th but given that the Dutch team was playing in the World Cup soccer final tonight, he offered to see if I could climb to see the gorillas on the 10th. It was already 9PM on the 9th and by 10PM we had worked into a plan to have me show up at the park yesterday and see if anyone with a permit did not show. In addition, my flight back to Nairobi would need to be changed such that I could get back to Kigali also yesterday, only a day after I arrived. I usually would never travel in such a hurried fashion but there were others meeting in Johannesburg for this World Cup finals match so I thought I would see if it could be done. In but an hour, Bernard had worked out a plan to call the airline on my behalf and then have me go to the park and see if no one showed for their permit.

Bedtime came happily, but too late again at about midnight, after I was shown to my room which laid out also quite comfortably in front of a big fire.

The knock at the door came quite early at 5:30AM for my wake-up call but the offering of hot chocolate on this cool, crisp morning was welcome. After breakfast and an introduction to a few of the other guests in the lodge, my driver, John Bosco, was introduced to me by Bernard and I was told that he knew the manager of the gorilla permits well and if anyone could possibly get me into one of the groups, it would be John. I will preface the remainder of the story by also realizing that Rwanda, as I was told and it was confirmed to me by Bernard, is an African country much more void of corruption and bribes than most so I did not expect to get on a gorilla trek in any other way than someone else not showing up.

When we reached the gate of the building where the groups would be divided again I saw a different level of quality – well kept buildings, clean bathrooms and grounds that wee well maintained. There were some odd 60 people or so with already prebooked permits and the staff were working towards dividing them up into groups of 8, assigning a guide and taking care of any paperwork. All this worked far better than anything I have seen outside of South Africa. I was dutifully impressed.

Just as it looked like I was not going to get a last minute permit, John told me there was one spot left in a group so I was then lead over to meet my guide, Hope, and the others. There were five Germans and a Swiss couple on their honeymoon. Klaus and Ute were along with their daughter, Hannah, and two of her friends, another Hannah, and Jurge. The younger generation was about 20 years old and were all completing a year of volunteer work in Rwanda. Klaus and Ute had come out to visit their daughter and travel around a bit prior to their all returning home. The Swiss couple was from the French speaking area and on a 3 week honeymoon through east Africa.

Hope took us through a 20 minute or so talk about the specifics of our climb and where we shared a bit about ourselves, too. We then took a short ride down the road and entered the starting point of our climb at a local village. All along the way, again, the children poured out of their homes and from school playgrounds to wave hello. Another sign of a responsible effort on the part of the Rwandan government and guides was Hope telling us not to offer the children free items such as pens, food or money because they would then associate tourists with handouts and the president of the country did not want these children tempted to quit school.
Our climb started at about 2,250 feet and Hope told us we could get up to 3,000 feet this morning in search of the gorillas.

The Mountain Gorilla lives in habitat up to 4,000 feet in dense jungle and to greatly augment our chance of sightings, as well as to protect these endangered species from poachers, park trackers go into the jungle in the early morning and see if they can find the gorillas. Hope told us our family of gorillas had been found so we headed up further through plowed fields of potatoes and cabbage interspersed with modest, mud hut dwellings along the way. On the way up I had a chance to speak with everyone in the group. The honeymoon couple were, as I said French speaking Swiss, but obviously well versed in German however they told me that they were more comfortable speaking English for business and personal needs after French. I would have assumed German would be next on their list of languages. Klaus and Ute are both 60 and the parents of 5 children and he is a family doctor just outside Reimstad, Germany, the US military base there.

The easier, unencumbered portion of the trip took about an hour but the temperature was more than comfortable at about 60 degrees and sunshine abounded. We came to a stone wall and it was here that Hope gave us our last instructions and we hopped over into the dense vegetation one would expect on this excursion.

The jungle was thick but already the guides had cut away a narrow path for us to climb through. We all managed with little problems but I did experience the full and hard pain of, after slipping on a wet rock, inadvertently reaching out and grasping a nettle plant. The serrated edges of the leaves are mildly poisonous, Hope had told us, and the pain was pretty intense for about 15 minutes. It did subside but did not disappear until the next morning.

Black earth beneath our feet yielded visual support and reminder that we were in terrain well suited for fast growing plants. We had but a few yards back left the plowed and furrowed fields of the Rwandan subsistence farmers and their modest mud built homes. The change from farm to jungle was dramatic. There was no gradual entry into the think bush and bamboo filled forest. The Mountain Gorilla is losing its habitat quickly and we saw the reason why. The assault of man continues up the slopes on these volcanic peaks.

We did not have to hike long before Hope told us the gorillas were close. A snap of a tree limb confirmed their proximity and none of us could have mistaken the sound of the snapped tree limb as it was loud and distinct. The noise resembled more the sound of a limb being taken down due to a storm. Hope took us further up the slope but I did linger behind and watch in the direction from where the sound came. I could make out a black shape and as it came closer I decided to make haste and follow the group up the hill.

Once I saw the rear of the group again they were stopped and I saw why. There in front of us were two gorillas – one adolescent and a baby estimated at a year old – playing in the grassy floor not 10 feet from us. They were aware of our presence occasionally looking over to see who and what we were. Because these gorilla families are likely to see humans for one hour of each day they have become accustomed to our presence. I remembered the sting of the nettles in my left hand as I reached for my camera but the feeling reminded me that these animals were rolling around in the same plants which created my currently pained condition. The two were rolling around on top of one another and paying no attention to the plants or trees nearby other than to use them as toys along the way.

The thickness of the hair was one of the first characteristics of the gorilla that I noticed. The creatures appeared to have the coarseness of hair similar to that of a sheep’s wool. I suppose I had grown accustomed to seeing the hair of their and our cousin, the chimpanzee, and was expecting something similar but the youngsters hair was not in such condition. The little guys rolled around in front of us and never increased their distance so after about 10 minutes we moved further up the trail where another adolescent was swinging from a low hanging limb at about our eye level. Over and over he swung like a gymnast but with greater dexterity. I could not help but think he was showing off a bit given he was only 10 feet from us. To support the idea he was so comfortable on the spindly tree limb, the limb then snapped and sent him crashing to the ground. I fully expected the gorilla to be slightly fazed by his fall but he did nothing more than tuck his head between his legs and use the slope of the hill to roll further downhill another 20 feet and onto the back of one of his larger family members.

Hope then suggested we walk a bit further where we could view the massive Silverback of this clan. Again the group descended single file down the hill with me in the rear and it was at this time that I had a bit of a scare when a rustling of the bushes to my rear was accompanied by the blur of a black object, about chest high coming straight for me with some speed. There was no doubt what it was and perhaps my inability to get out of the way surprised the gorilla but as he came to me he took a swing at me and hit me in the rib cage. Obviously startled, I did not know what to make of the incident but Hope reacted quickly and got between me and the gorilla which did not move but 3 feet from me following the encounter. Hope assured me the gorilla meant no harm and was playing because if he did mean harm he would have broken my ribs. I thought this summary made perfect sense to me and as quickly as my blood pressure rose it dropped again due to some swift action and proper coaching from Hope.

Klaus and Ute held back a bit for my encounter to subside but we then all walked down and around the corner to see a female, her baby and the big Silverback eating roots and leaves not 15 feet in front of us. The female was to the front and the Silverback to the rear and instantly we could feel the size of the bog male. Weighing at about 450 pounds, boasting a head the size of an extra large lampshade and hands like shovels all the roots he was eating looked like pieces of parsley next to his large frame. There is no question that these animals are like nothing else in this species. Their size and color is instantly impressive. His arms looked like sawed off telephone poles and when he put all four limbs on the ground his back was large enough for two people to pull up chairs under and share a drink. We busily snapped photos and shot video but once the big fella decided to take a look at us feeling his laser like gaze meet ours was when the height of intimidation took over. Hope assured us that with the Silverback’s continued grunting noises he was content with our presence and was only looking around a bit. I suppose Hope was right because we stayed there with the 3 of these members of the family for the next 20 minutes or so until Hope told us our hour with the gorillas was now coming to an end. As with most entertaining events, the hour went quickly and we began walking out of the presence of the family, again with me in the rear. However, on this occasion my rear guard position was rewarded when the mother and baby followed me back out, clearly wanting to engage a bit more with us. Their following me was not hostile but more inquisitive.

Mfangano Island Camp, Lake Victoria, Kenya

Arrived here on this island camp on Lake Victoria yesterday via plane charter from Governor’s Camp. The flight took about 45 minutes and with our descent pulling us over the NW corner of the lake near the Uganda border. Lake Victoria is a high lake resting at 3,700 feet above sea level and the highest peak on Mfangano Island resting at 5,500 feet above sea level.

The camp is a bit empty at the moment so the manager, James, has put me in the Honeymoon Suite. I have taken a past girlfriend with me on a similar fact finding mission to Africa where we stayed at exotic locales along the way and I’ll have to admit this spot called for the company of a woman. The Honeymoon Suite is set on a rocky promontory extending into the lake with the bedroom perched 20 feet above the waterline and the bathroom, complete with sunken tub, at but about 3-4 feet above the waterline. Of more than a few places classified as “must see” getaways for couples, this spot might well rank at the top. The accommodation was nestled below a centuries old giant fig tree and also held all the amenities for creature comfort needs. The property has been in existence for 20 years on an island about 15 miles x 7 miles and includes but 6 suites in total.

James, the manager, is a native white Kenyan but 23 years old and fresh out of university in England via a stint in London. He grew up in Nairobi, went overseas to further his education and has returned to fulfill his aspirations of starting his own venture in the hospitality industry here in his home country. He has only been managing Mfangano Island for about 6 weeks but during the course of our dinner he sounded well heeled in his position already. At the age of 23 he was sounding like a seasoned veteran.

Bedtime came a little early as I had awoken yesterday morning at 5:30AM in order to make the balloon ride at Governor’s Camp across the Masai Mara before leaving for Mfangano Island. The ballooning safari is always something I have aspired to do but have never taken the time to get it booked. The captain of the balloon, Steve, had a similar story to his arrival into Kenya as my entry into the African travel business. A native of England and prior owner of a furniture business, he took a ride on a balloon with his mother some 25 years ago in the UK. He was so taken aback by the experience that he decided to get his own balloon license and begin his own hot air balloon business there. About 10 years ago he was approached to start up the safari ballooning business here in the Masai Mara in conjunction with Governor’s Camp. After an initial visit he came out with his wife and 2 children and has been splitting time in both Kenya and England ever since.

There were about 15 of us in on the trip that departed at dawn and the event met and surpassed all expectations. We rose quickly from the field just behind Governor’s Camp in a large basket, probably 15 feet x 6 feet, plenty of room to accommodate us all. Due to the beginning of the migration being upon us, the Mara was filled the game. Passing over grazing giraffe and elephant as well as herds of plains game species from a range of heights of but 50 feet to a couple of hundred feet with no noises but the wind is an exceptional experience. Even when the balloon was blasted with more hot air, the game below made little change in behavior thus offering us a unique perspective into their worlds. The highlight of the trip certainly centered around passing directly over the meander Mara River and seeing crocodiles and hippos from directly above. A few rhinos in the forest neighboring the river capped our morning trip whereupon we landed at were greeted by the staff and a full breakfast spread African style on the plains of the Masai Mara.

This morning, Thursday, James and I headed out on the boat along with our guide and driver, Michael, to fish for some Nile Perch. The record at this camp is 172 pounds caught about 12 years ago. We trolled the banks of the lake and along the edges of nearby islands taking note of the prolific wildlife all along the way including multiple fish eagles, kingfishers as well as a couple of otters. No fish were caught but exploring a small part of the lake for the morning was well worth the trip.

Following the morning fishing trip James was told there were a few people from the Kenya Power and Light Company from Nairobi who wanted to speak with him. James’ youth if offset by his being a native of this country which has seen its infrastructure decline over the last half century due to neglect and corruption so while he was encouraged to know that the government controlled electric company was considering bringing power to this island of about 30,000 he figured it was going to come at a price (a bribe or something similar). I stayed off to the side about 25 feet enjoying the view from the dock but wanted to watch and hear what might transpire. Just about exactly what James predicted, came true. He told me the four government employees would want to be served drinks (alcohol or non alcohol) and the discussion would begin benignly but there would be personal interests to fulfill on the part of these visitors for future needs. Again, all his predictions came true.

Four people showed up for this discussion – 3 were from the electric company and 1was the local tribal chief of the island. There was a long discussion and a couple of the employees went off to examine the premises. It was about midday by now but James told me that although he knew they wanted him to feed them he was not going to do that. Despite the food having already been laid out for the two of us on the table nearby James served them drinks but not a meal.

At the end of the discussions they boarded a power boat owned by the company and along with its pilot left for the mainland about a 30 minute ride away. And what did they come to discuss?

1. Kenya electric company was considering adding power to the island and wanted to “look around”.
2. The island chief wanted to know what contributions  the camp could make to the expense
3. The highest official from the electric company wanted to know if the company (government owned) could park their future boat purchased at the private island camp’s dock for free.
4. The same official asked for reduced rates for him and his staff to come and stay at this 5 star, expensive camp
5. The senior official then asked James to have the company boat take his group back to the mainland at no charge. James said he could not do that. The group had arrived at a cost of $2 per person via water taxi and could have taken the same back. At the end, the government officials negotiated that the company’s boat take them back at a cost to the taxpayers of $60? Why send 10x the amount for transport than originally planned? For no other reason that the officials could. The sad part of this transaction is that James and I had just walked through a fishing village around the corner from their lodge where the locals relied on subsistence fishing and were very poor where houses were made of mud and no running water was found. $60 is probably 2 month’s wages for some of these people. And last but not least
6. Just prior to departure, the same man told James in private his children were in expensive private schools and the costs were rising dramatically and anything the company could offer to help pay the expenses would go a long way. James doubted the private school story as nothing but an affront to make his attempt at asking for a bribe seem more moral.

The US is not above bribery of officials and gross neglect in regards to responsible spending of taxpayer money as well but this story above, having watched it play out, is a summary of the problems with modern Africa where government officials look to shake downs as a part of their job perks. The process seems so much more disgusting when the West id asked to offer more and more foreign aid to the developing part of the world. How many of our dollars go into the pockets of men like these while their own people live in to provide themselves with nothing but food and shelter. The world has been fooled to think these officials care for their people above themselves. As I have said before, the US has large corruption problems but due to a system f laws and justice, our government officials look like Mother Theresa compared to most in Africa.

Governors’ Camp, Masai Mara, Kenya

Yesterday I took a short flight of about 45 minutes aboard Safarilink Airlines to get from Loldia House to Little Governors’ Camp here on the banks of the Mara River in the Masai Mara. Sammy and Peter drove us out to the local dirt airstrip where the runway was covered in Cape buffalo and zebra. We drove up and down the runway scattering the grazers who were not eager to leave and then joined the air raffic controller, Joram, who was conducting the same duty as us but on a bicycle. The Meyjes were en route to the same camp so we looked to be spending another 3 nights together.

The caravan 12 seater touched down shortly thereafter to pick us up and I then got a little closer to Joram. Joram had a toothy grin and appeared to be about 60 years old and as I approached him I could not help but notice his hat emblazoned with the words MD and underneath it N. Carolina. So here again in the bush of East Africa I am met with another coincidence as our friendly local airport anager who only speaks a bit of English is sporting a hat from my alma mater. Here in Africa the term “MD” refers to Managing Director. I could not resist the urge to take a photo with the newest member of the UNC faculty and from my personal experience, he might be a good addition to an ever increasing group in Chapel Hill in need of an infusion of real life learnings.

The flight took us over the rolling hills leading into the Masai Mare and eventually touched down in a flatter landscape, something more akin in look to Montana with knee high grasses across long plains that met the horizon with flat topped hills and low mountains. The camp sits at a still further high elevation of more than 5,000 feet which makes for continued cool nights and warm and pleasant sunshine filled days. Our ranger, Stanley, a man of about 50 years of age, short with a plenty protruding tummy, drove me and the Meyjes back to the river where we crossed the short 30 foot expanse by boat, climbed the steps and were met by the camp manager, a Scot by the name of George Murray. While George had lost some of his Scottish accent enough remained to identify his country of origin.

Governors’ Camps consist of four camps all found on the banks of the Mara River. These camps are all also owned by the Grammatica family.

The drive from the airstrip to the river, probably no more than 2 miles, was so full of game viewing experiences that we took about an hour and half to make the drive. Stanley told us the annual plains game migration through the Masai Mara was starting a bit early this year and we could see the buildup of wildebeest in the open plains before us. While we were not here during the peak of the migration we could easily see that the next few days would be filled with opportunities for good sightings.

No more than ½ mile in the distance a single file line of wildebeest began to move from our right to left. They moved at a balanced well timed gait, faster than walking but a bit slower than running. I suppose one would identify his speed as a wildebeest jog. All told there had to be a few thousand of them headed for a destination only they knew. As they continued on and on at the horizon, Stanly saw some movement atop a termite mound and drove us over to investigate. There before sat 5 subadult lions panting heavily after a large feed that must have taken place in the last 12 hours Stanley presumed. The big cats looked to be hardly moving with their bellies full. As we took off a few photos the lions did become a little more interactive with one another and began to show some signs of life. Lions are more active at dusk and night and we were but about an hour from sunset. I assumed these lions were full enough to not need another feeding and would see no interest in the passing mammoth herd of wildebeest but I was wrong.

Being opportunists they all eventually turned their gaze upon the passing plains game and then began a slow, steady but planned out stalk of the possible victims. Stanley had positioned our vehicle so that the lions would walk just past us as their strategy unfolded. Some of the lions brushed up against the bumpers of the Land Rover as they passed. Just as a field general would have laid out a plan of attack, the lions began to spread out along the passing flank of the passing wildebeests who were keenly aware of their presence a few minutes prior but had now lost sight of the cats in the tall grass.

Our angle for viewing was exceptional to enjoy the perspective of the hunt from the lions’ view. The waist high yellow tinged grass gave them excellent cover at dusk from the front where the wildebeest passed but from the rear we could quite well make out the dark markings at the end of their raised tails as well as the black corners of the back of their ears. These markings made it easier for them to follow one another at night, through thicket and on the hunt.

As slowly as the lions spread out we could see they had set up a plan to cut the advancing line of wildebeest and then use those on the right to perhaps take a flanking attack on the remaining animals caught in the rear. The middle lioness took her cue and ran into the wildebeest advancing line creating the organized chaos designed. The lead of the wildebeest line ran at full speed while those in the rear came to a full stop. As they did, the 2 lionesses in the rear maximized their ability for short bursts of speed and pursued a couple of confused animals. As quickly as it began it all ended with the stuffed lionesses being able to run but a f3ew yards before giving up the chase and I imagine, content with the idea of resting under another tree to digest their last meal.  We watched the cats do just this and turned the Land Rover back to the camp.

Little Governor’s Camp is comprised of 17 tents all overlooking a marsh created by the Mara River. The camp tents are lit only by gas light, a creation I enjoy very much. While the main lodge has electricity as does the kitchen, these gas lit rooms complete with  running water and bathroom, offer a simple but safe and secure experience as well as outdoor dining and gathering at a large outdoor fire each evening.

I was shown to my tent and then proceeded back to the outdoor firepit and took a seat overlooking the marsh as the sun set. An English couple, Bob and Helen, introduced themselves and it turns out that they are currently residing in Norfolk, Virginia but a 2 hour drive from my hometown. Bob has been a member of the Royal Navy and now has a position with NATO. Another person, Yuni (or Eunice) Thai from Hong Kong joins in the conversation and the two of us eventually dining together for dinner. Yuni works in London as a banker and is traveling through East Africa alone. Her story of a Chinese mainland born father who swam to Hong Kong during Communist rule to gain a new start in life, as well as her education at Oxford and the University of Chicago for graduate school leads to plenty of topics for discussion.

By about 10PM I am escorted back to my tent by armed security as this camp is not fenced and any and all animals can, and sometimes, are found in the camp. Night time is a far more dangerous time for animal encounters given that lions and leopard are more nocturnal and see far better at night as well as the fact that elephants sleep very little and do not fear man. Interesting to note is that Governors’ Camp posts guards all night to keep the camp secure whereas most camps keep a couple people on duty once everyone reaches their rooms. I woke up a couple times in the night and heard the armed guards coming past my tent.

Morning wake up call came at 6AM, complete with hot chocolate delivered to the tent. I usually sleep very well in the bush, especially in the tent settings where I can hear the sounds of animals, but last night I woke up about 4AM and could not get back to sleep. Nonetheless, he hot chocolate was enjoyed, all 3 cups, and I headed down to the river to meet Stanley and the Meyjes again and along the way watched the hot air balloon being launched from the rear of the camp. Governors’ offers a hot air balloon safari experience,msomething I have not done but would like to do soon.

An early morning elephant herd spotting was enjoyed up close and personal. These animals here are very accustomed to the game viewing vehicles and noises that come from the engine and our voices so the elephants stayed quite close. Listening to these mothers and calves feed is of great entertainment. They are eating machine, having to put away as much as 400 pounds of grass and leaves a day given their inefficient digestive system which can only process about 40% of what they eat. A quick way to follow the elephant trail is to look for fresh dung because they will not be far ahead.

The remainder of the drive included sightings of another 5 lions, initially walking down the main road and eventually leading us to a watering hole and then on to take a look again at the proliferation of plains game starting to mass on the open plains. As far as the horizon, we could take in a sea of zebra, wildebeest, topi, warthog, eland, impala, Thompson’s gazelle and more. While this herding of animals was not the peak of the migration there were enough animals in the vicinity of our vehicle to never be more than a few yards from something hunting for food or something being hunted. To be in the middle of such an abundance of animals is a little odd because there is not a real push to drive further out because so much is going on at your front, flanks and from behind. Yet, if you do not drive you might well miss something.

During the course of the remainder of the morning game drive and the afternoon drive, we came across a hyena on a recently killed young wildebeest, eating away quickly before any other predators showed up but not quick enough to outwit the vultures. The white backed vultures showed up in big numbers but were left with but a few scraps upon which to feed once the hyena had his fill. In addition, we saw ostriches mating, warthogs eating on their knees, a battaleur eagle on the ground with a rib bone in his beak, more grazing elephants, more lion on the hunt and the never ending cacophony of wildebeests calling.

Upon our return to the camp, George and I sat down for a good chat whereupon I learned more of his life story. He grew up in a small seaside village near Inverness called Glen Murooney (I am sure this exact name is wrong). His family is still spread out across the Scottish Highlands and he spent some 15 years in London working in the hotel business before getting divorced and beginning his migration from the UK. He spoke highly of the experience of the London experience in the 70’s as a twenty and thirty something year old, going to watch the tail end of the Beattles, the thriving times of the Rolling Stones, etc. He spoke about haw safe the streets of London were then and how benign their idea of trouble was then versus now.  He took off for stints in Bali, Indonesia, Africa, then back t the UK and then Africa again. His last story, before he had to head out for his duties, revolved around hosting Charlie Watt from the Rolling Stones a few years back at Governors’ Camp and the good fun they all had given Charlie’s easy going demeanor. George fell in love with a woman from Bali and went into some detail about why the romance could not work given her family Hindu traditional way of life. He then went on to describe his experience visiting the Bridge over the River Kwai in Thailand a few years back. All good stuff from George and another fine example of the regular, unexpected surprises to be found with people met here in the bush.