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It's Tuesday morning and I'm sitting at my desk in Bend, Oregon.

We arrived in town Saturday evening to find a sunny, snowy day here in Central Oregon.  When we dragged ourselves into the house, we found a miracle.  Our friend Tawna, who'd been feeding our cats, left a crock pot of soup on in the kitchen.  It was an incredibly kind and thoughtful thing to do and it's difficult to overstate how much it meant for exhausted, hungry travelers to put some warm soup into our bellies before heading off to bed.  Tawna is now our new family idol.

It's also hard to overstate how nice it is to be able to get horizontal after something like 36 hours of sitting, mostly in cramped spaces.  Transcontinental travel is very difficult and I'm certain is ultimately unhealthy.

Since then, sleep's been, predictably, a mess for all of us.  It's been especially hard for Aislin since she had to go to school on Monday and stay awake the entire day.  She's a trooper and I think more resilient than Gina or I are.

Today I'm sick as a dog - bad sore throat, achy and I suspect I have a bit of fever.  Also I think one of the consequences of transcontinental travel.  Az is off to school.  Gina returned to work.  I've been in bed most of the day on what is surely one of the dreariest days in human history here in Bend.  It's cold, very windy, light snow falling and the sky is so densely overcast that it'd be difficult to recognize the difference between earth and sky if it weren't for the dead trees and vehicles moving on ice-encrusted streets.  Spent most of the last 16 hours in bed, but I'm up now, drinking coffee and hoping to somehow survive long enough to see spring again.

It's always so hard to come back, and Gina and I talk often about what we would be doing right now, ten hours ahead, in Africa (we'd be going to bed with plans for an early rise to go see animals...).  So now, it's a long list of chores, headed by the necessity to get a job.  You know, that.

A few miscellaneous observations:

• Many people have said to me that they wish they could go to Africa.  I 'wished' I could go for 54 years before I went.  It's do-able.  You can take bigger or smaller risks in your approach to travel there - that's up to you - but it's really not that hard.  You just have to decide to do it.
• In general it seems to me that Africa half works.  It's like the Bend City Council.  About half the things you'd expect actually come off exactly as you'd want them.  Patience is a virtue that will come in very handy and we unfortunately witnessed lots of bad tourist behavior where the visitors forgot their basic manners.  So just a word - if you ordered your eggs over easy and they came scrambled - don't have a melt-down.  Appreciate the fact that you're in this amazing place, surrounded by warm friendly people and eat the damned eggs.
• In general, the people we encountered were very warm and friendly and open to outsiders.  Yeah, obviously most of the people we encountered were in the hospitality industry.  But I think there's something very genuine there too.  
• Folks in Africa make do with what they have and you'll witness ingenuity at every level as things are kept going.
• In the bush you will share accommodations with many creatures, all of whom were there before you arrived.  Our rule is that if they're not biting or stinging, leave them alone.  

The first time I went to Africa, I remained very isolated from my Western life.  I only listened to my ipod twice that I can recall.  Each year though I seem to relax and this year especially I enjoyed sitting on the porch at Olifants and watching an amazing lightening storm, listening to whatever Mr. Ipod threw at me. Here are a few tunes I'd recommend.  No connection to the bush of course with any of these.  They just seemed to fit for me and will forever more have a connection in my heart to the sights and smells of the bush.

• The Golden State - John Doe, featuring Kathleen Edwards.  I don't know why - not much to it but Kathleen Edwards is, IMHO, the best young female singer songwriter around and pulls off a powerful duet with John Doe.
• Empty Words - David Hidalgo and Louie Perez.  David Hidalgo is one of the creative forces of Los Lobos and I think is a genius guitar player, a good songwriter and an interesting vocalist.  A gentle song about the loss of love.
• Like a Fool - Shelby Lynne.  I don't know what to say about Shelby Lynne.  Very spare and powerful piece and she just doesn't hit a wrong note.  Honestly, has to be the best female vocalist around.  Try her version of "How Can I Be Sure".
• Slight Figure of Speech - The Avett Brothers.  These hillbillies are so much fun.  Not my favorite Avett Brothers tune (check out "Murder in the City" or "Shame") but so much fun.
• The Same Thing - Muddy Waters.  I don't know if young people listen to Muddy anymore.  Be a shame if they don't.  This is a dark and clever tune.
• Heartaches by the Number - Ray Price.  Texas honky tonk heartache music works in Africa.
• You Can't Do That - The Beatles.  Aislin's heard of the Beatles (she knows her music - she'll tell  you so).  A fun tune with lots of cowbell.  Never too much.
• No Baby I - Old 97s.  
• The Promised Land - Chuck Berry.  Badly overlooked writer of the American Song.  Shameful really.  This song is for every traveller.  
• 500 Miles - Rosanne Cash.  I love Rosanne Cash.  Sadly miscategorized as a 'country' artist and therefore overlooked by so many.  This is an old Bobby Bare song - sad and very spare and beautifully produced by husband John Leventhal.  It was a very sad day when I finally realized that Rosanne Cash was never going to marry me.
• Hours and hours of slowly driving down empty roads, looking for something - it's a great opportunity to stretch your memory muscles by trying to sing every Martin Mull song you can remember.  It's great stuff and I don't know why someone doesn't issue a digital retrospective.   Try "Heading Westward", or "Licks Off of Records".

That's it.  

November 25, Mashatu

 Mid-afternoon here at Mashatu Main Camp, in southeastern Botswana.

Mashatu is probably my favorite place in the world. 

Two days ago, we left Punda Maria early for the drive across northern South Africa to Pontdrift, a small border crossing from South Africa into what’s called the Tuli Block in southern Botswana.  It was a drive filled with the usual misadventures of driving in rural South Africa, but we left early and made good time, arriving at the border early for the transfer to Mashatu Tent Camp. 

We were met at the border by Itai and, because there was water in the Limpopo River, were ferried across by cable in a rusty iron cage.  Part of the adventure for Aislin.  We transferred from there to Tent Camp.  I’d been to Mashatu twice previously but always stayed at the Main Camp, which is a permanent (and very nice) resort within high stone walls.  Tent camp is not rough by any means, but it is a very different experience.  Very comfortable (luckily it wasn’t stinking hot here) and you listen to the amazing sounds of the bush during the night.

It’s the usual Mashatu schedule – wake-up at 0500, breakfast – a light continental affair – at 0520 and on the road for the first game drive at 0530.  There’s less variety of big wildlife here at Mashatu than at Kruger for example – no rhino, no buffalo, no hippo – but one feels much more isolated as we patrol very rough tracks in an vehicle open to the sky and to the bush.  The vehicles are amazing actually – old Toyota Land Cruisers that are, for all intents and purposes, tanks, traversing the roughest terrain, plowing right through the brush when necessary.  The first night’s drive was quiet and we didn’t see any of the major predators.  The next morning we saw a glimpse of leopard.  But the second evening’s drive resulted in really a stunning leopard show, put on by a mother and her two year-old son.  It was fairly late afternoon, and they were under a dense canopy of trees so photographically, one might wish for more light.  But it’s one of those things where you just crank up the ISO and go for it.  Thanks to our guide Richard and his assistant Commando – it was just an amazing thing to see.

At two, the male’s world is about to change.  He’s still a momma’s boy, but he’s about big enough to hunt for himself and mom’s begun cavorting with a big male apparently and that big male won’t tolerate the younger male’s presence for long.  Meaning the little guy’s about to get pushed out into the world to make his own way. No more food provided by mom or reassurance.  He’ll have to establish and protect his own territory out there.

On this drive we also got a glimpse of the lion cubs.  There aren’t a lot of lions here at Mashatu but there are, I believe, two females with cubs and of course every guest wants to see them.  Mom had parked them deep in some long grass though before leaving to, presumably, go hunt and when we arrived, they just moved deeper into the grass. 

Next morning we had an excellent cheetah sighting – there are three brothers that hang out here and we got to watch them sleeping it off after eating a big meal somewhere.  We saw a hyena hauling ass chasing,  unsuccessfully, an impala.  We saw a big rock python that had just eaten (consensus among the rangers was that it was a mongoose) and Aislin got to approach and touch it.  Got to watch elephants eating up close.

Then the transfer to the Main Camp for the evening.  Got to see Bobson and Bellamy and Caroline so far.  Hope to see other friends here as the day progresses.  We’ve signed up for a predator drive with Andrei, the predator researcher here.  I have no idea what that will be like – it’ll be a new experience for all of us.

Off now to tea and the predator drive and then our last night here in

November 22, Punda Maria

Late afternoon here in Punda Maria.  Last afternoon in Kruger.  Early tomorrow morning we leave for Pont Drift on the border of Botswana and head to Mashatu.  Three nights there and back to the US.

Yesterday was an amazing day for us.  It had it all – it was fascinating, heart-warming, intense and horrifying.  We got up relatively late and headed out to drive the roads around Olifants.  It was a beautiful morning and we headed down an unpaved road that ran for a while along the Olifants River and then cut away from the river into relatively open savanna.  Aislin picked the direction and we were headed West when we spotted a giraffe.  Now giraffe are pretty common and after a day or two here, you tend not to put a lot of time into giraffe-watching.  But this one was behaving a bit unusually.  Giraffe are very observant of their surroundings and aren’t crazy about people being close.  They don’t panic, but they generally will just mosey on their way when you drive up and stop near them.  This one appeared to be alone (which is also unusual) and seemed focused on watching something in the opposite direction though it occasionally glanced our way.  It was hovering near a small tree and then we noticed the baby.  It’s also not unusual to see juvenile giraffes but this one was very small.  Then we noticed that it wasn’t steady on its feet and seemed wet and then we saw the umbilical cord hanging from the mother and we realized that this baby had just been born.  It couldn’t have been born more than a few minutes before we arrived.  Mother seemed very nervous, keeping the baby near the tree and was intent on scanning the area away from us.  She occasionally would nudge or lick the baby but was mostly focused on watching something.  This of course is when the babies are most vulnerable.  The main defense for a baby giraffe is its speed but it has to get its feet first and this baby was very wobbly.  We watched for considerable time as mother hovered around, even straddling the baby with her legs, keeping the baby near the tree.

The mother continued to seem very nervous and we speculated that she had to be concerned that there were lions or leopards around.  The baby tried to nurse but the mother still seemed too nervous and focused on keeping the baby hidden.  During this time the mother lost the afterbirth, which spilled out onto the ground.  Then we saw something moving in the brush.  It was a hyena moving between us and the mother.  The mother’s agitation seemed to increase as the hyena nosed about.  Vultures also appeared and there was a bit of a conflict as the hyena ran the vultures away and quickly consumed the afterbirth – I’d guess a terrifically nutritious miracle meal for the hyena.  The mother took a half hearted charge at the hyena who did not push its luck.  A single hyena would certainly be no match for a protective giraffe mother.

Still though, the mother seemed nervous and kept watching over in the opposite direction and as the calf begin to become a bit more coordinated the mother struggled more to keep the baby very close and behind the tree, again straddling the newborn. 

We had probably spent an hour watching the mother and baby, parked along the side of this dirt road.  Several other vehicles came by and some would stop for a moment but none seemed to understand what they were seeing or the drama that was unfolding.  Most of this time, we were alone in the bush with mother and baby. 

We talked about how nervous the mother was and continued to speculate that there seemed to be more than hyenas on her mind.  All of this was difficult to photograph because of the intervening bush so I was just pulling the car forward to try and get a better view when I heard the mother let out a roar and wheel around and start to run in our direction.  I looked right and saw a lion standing, looking above the grass.  The mother was running full bore now, right in our direction, the baby following at a gallop about 5 meters to mother’s right.  We just sat still as mother went tearing past the front of our car but the baby ran through the brush and crashed into the passenger door, nearly coming right through the window into Gina’s lap, spewing snot all along the dash of our car.  Everything happened very quickly then.  The baby went down in a heap from running headlong into the car.  Mom circled around the car and to our horror began smashing the baby with her hoofs.  She lashed out ferociously at the poor baby.  All of this was happening not 5 feet from where Gina was sitting.  All I can figure was that, in her panic, when the mother saw the baby sprawled out on the ground, she thought it was a lion and struck viciously at it.  After a couple of seconds mom took off and wheeled around the car again, while the baby lay there motionless.  At this point, Gina was saying, “We gotta move!  We gotta move!” and, man, she was right.  Giraffe are, well, big, and have very powerful hoofs and we did not want to be the object of a giraffe attack so I pulled the forward about 40 meters and pivoted around so we could see what was happening.  The mother had moved across the road and the first lion had reached the baby and was just standing over it, probably disbelieving its luck and trying to understand what was happening.  Another lion showed up and a third.  The baby started to rouse itself and attempted to get up, calling for its mother but the lions grabbed it by the throat and easily held her down.  She seemed to quickly lose consciousness and more lions appeared, standing over her.  I lost track of where the mother was at this point and I’m guessing there’s a point where she realized the hopelessness of the situation and moved away, out of reach of the lions.  After surveying the scene, one of the lions grabbed the baby by the throat and began dragging her across the road into some dense brush, into shade and away from the road.  By this time, lions were streaming in, like from nowhere.  We didn’t count them, but there must have been about 10 of them – adult females and a group of cubs of various ages.  The baby actually cried once more in the bushes but then it was over but the sound of lions eating, a mixture of growling, fighting, purring, crunching.  It’s a noisy affair. 

It wasn’t easy to see what was going on in the brush, and difficult to photograph and honestly, we were all still pretty shaken.  Two more vehicles arrived on the scene but it never became the usual Kruger lion scrum and obviously the other observers had no insight into the drama that had just unfolded.  We stayed for about an hour and then it was pretty much over.  A baby giraffe, while a big animal, isn’t much of a meal for 10 lions and they were getting ready to sleep it off when we decided to head back.

As I said, we were all pretty shaken by the experience.  I think Aislin was frightened by the ferocity of the mother and felt very vulnerable when she was circling in her panic and rage.  She was terrified that the mother would kick into the car, and that was not an unreasonable fear.  I know that Gina was very much affected.  I think it was especially hard because we’d bonded with the little guy and spent much time (really, its whole life) enjoying the miracle of new life.  And the baby was running right to her and I think for Gina it was as if the baby was pleading for help.  And of course, Gina is a mother and I think it was very hard to watch the pain and fear of the mother giraffe.   The gestation period of a giraffe is long – something like 14 months if I remember correctly – and it’s terrible to think that it would all go away so quickly.

For me, the thing that was hardest was the sense that we somehow, inadvertently, might have played a role in the drama.  We all want to watch nature here.  That’s why we traveled half way across the world.  We want to be in a wild place and watch life play out.  I think we were all prepared to see a kill and watch an animal die if that’s what happened.  But the last thing we would want would be to feel that we somehow tilted the game.  If we hadn’t been there, would the baby have escaped?  We’ll never know.  On the one hand, baby giraffes gain their legs fairly quickly and (as we read when we got back), their primary defense is speed.  Young giraffes can be faster than adults and can outdistance lions, which are good for only short bursts of speed.  On the other hand, the baby was wobbly right up until mother began to flee and there’s no guarantee that she could have outrun those lions.  And, she ran smack into the side of an inanimate object.  I reckon that it could have been a tree or a boulder.  Who knows.  And for me, it was particularly horrifying to watch the mother attack her own baby.  To see, and to hear that, was awful.  I hope that she carries no realization of that.

Until that time, the girls had only seen a couple of brief glimpses of lions.  I’ve told them that I think the place is crawling with lions but you just don’t see them unless they happen to flop down somewhere close to a road.  I’m pretty sure they believe me now.  No one seems interested in getting out of the car to relieve their bladders now.

An amazing day for us and we were able to talk or think about little else yesterday.  In some ways, I think we’re still depleted from the experience.

Today, we left late, did a leisurely drive up to Punda Maria.  None of us were looking for any sort of intense adventure today.  The country is pretty here. 

And tomorrow, we get up early and head up the road, out of Kruger National Park, and over to Botswana.

November 19, Lower Sabie

Sitting at the kitchen table in our bungalow overlooking the Lower Sabie River.  Went to Johannesburg without incident on Sunday and met Gina and Aislin at the airport.  Spent the night there, then back to the Park, a night at Satara and two nights at Letaba.  Yesterday we drove from Letaba down south to Lower Sabie for two nights.  Tomorrow we head back north to Olifants for two nights, then way north to Punda Maria for a night, then on to the border with Botswana for transfer to Mashatu for three nights.  Then the long drive back to the airport and the flight home.  Days are winding down, as marked by the diminishing supply of Malarone.

Last few days have been very nice.  A few minor bumps with a jet-lagged 12 year-old but really it’s been very good.  Have modulated amount of time driving around and that’s been fine. Hippos are calling on the river about 50 yards from the kitchen. 

Aislin is a swimmer and so hit the pool at Satara.  And then at Letaba where her hair immediately turned emerald green.  Really.  Apparently they were giving the water some sort of shock treatment and forgot to put the ‘Closed’ sign up.  We are constantly warned that we enter this space or the other at our own risk but nothing warned us against a chemically charged swimming pool.  We’ll have to try and repair that when we get back.  All in all, the smallest possible problem and A loves being the center of attention….

We saw animals from the moment we entered the park, having a very close look at a rhino mother and calf on the drive from the gate to Satara.  Got a glimpse of a lion that first morning.  And of course all of the usual suspects.  Two days ago we went on morning walk with a couple of rangers and learned about yellow-billed hornbills, community spiders, ant lions, rhino poop and the breakdown of a buffalo’s skull.

This morning was rainy and cool and we got up early and went for a drive.  I think today will be known as Rhino Friday because we first saw a mother and calf sleeping in a thicket and then came to a mud wallow where there were four males hanging out.  A couple of males did some half-hearted sparring.  While I was photographing the rhinos I looked up to see a bull elephant standing right in front of the car as a group of  elephants moved into the area.  We did some careful elephant traffic management and came back.

Leading us to now.  Washing clothes by hand, Gina napping, Aislin fixing hot chocolate and a decaf instant coffee for me.  Tonight we go on an organized game drive with TOURISTS.  Agh.  On the other hand, we’ll be out at night and may see some different animals.  We’ve only had a glimpse of a lion, though last night we had a nice leopard sighting as she was sleeping on some rocks overlooking the river.  It’s pretty sweet.

November 12, Shingwedzi

Last couple of days were cool, very overcast and very windy.  Photography not good.  Hard to drive around all those hours for so little to show.  So yesterday I changed it up a little.  Slept in, didn’t get up until 0600.  Took my time eating Cheerios and yogurt, drinking instant coffee and packing.  Hit the road heading north from Mopani to Shingwedzi.  I’d planned a long, unpaved backroads trip to the west, but saw on the board that folks had seen lions to the east, so I changed decided to go 10K that direction and see what’s what.  Didn’t see anything but it was a pleasant enough drive so I took a different backroads approach and kept going, heading to the east then north right up against the Mozambique border.  Some of the road was rough (I’m always worried about the tires, which are substandard) but most of it was fine.  Very little traffic because it’s a long way – like 65K - without short little cut-offs – not something the average mom, pop, three kids in their new Toyota SUV are going to want to do.  The last 30K or so, the country changed as the road followed the course of the Shingwedzi River.  It’s obvious that they’ve received more rain, and earlier I suspect.  The bush became greener and denser.  Really quite a pretty drive.  Very little traffic.  Didn’t see a lot of wildlife, but some interesting birds and one close run-in with an elephant.  You’d be amazed that something so big could just disappear but in this dense bush often your first indicator is when they break a branch while eating.  Then you find that there’s an elephant 20 meters away.

The clouds broke at about the time I arrived at Shingwedzi (about 1630).  I checked in, got situated and went out for the last little bit of light.  Watched some baboons and then sat on the river’s edge and watched a hippo express its displeasure.  Hippos come out of the water and night and sometimes travel amazing distances to feed on choice grass.  He was undoubtedly impatient to leave the water but wouldn’t while I was sitting there.  Finally though it was time and I headed back to camp.

This morning up and out the gate at 0500.  Took a nice long drive down by the river.  Watched baboons being chased by male impala.  Impala are by far the most ubiquitous mammal in the park.  These little jewels are everywhere and it gets so you don’t really even see or notice them much.  But the girls (they’re called ewes – apparently whoever decides this stuff decided that anything impala size or smaller are ewes and rams, anything larger are cows and bulls) are all pregnant and they mostly synchronize calving, timing it so that it occurs after the first rains when the grass is tall so they can hide their newborns.  Minimize loss to predation.  Baboons and impala mostly ignore each other but baboons do predate on baby impala and these male impala seemed especially forceful in urging these baboons to keep moving along.  Right now the ewes all look very pregnant but I’d expect that we’ll start seeing babies almost anytime. 

So a pretty morning drive on a pretty morning and back to the camp by 1000 or so.  Toast and coffee (espresso has not made it to Shingwedzi, which as far as I can tell still has the worst restaurant of any of the main camps).  And now here to relax for a bit.  Washed some clothes (washing clothes by hand is oddly satisfying), write a bit, maybe edit a bit.  Clean all my gear of the dust dust dust.  Maybe take a nap later.

I’m thinking an evening drive and then I head to Satara in the morning.  It’s a long drive so I plan to start early.  If I see something on the way, great.  If not then have some down time there (maybe get the car washed!) before heading to Johannesburg early the next morning.  The girls are coming soon.

November 9, Letaba

Last night here at Letaba before the girls arrive.  Head north tomorrow to Mopani and then Shingwedzi. 

Today was another long day with little to show for it.  Honestly, I didn’t see any animals at all this morning until maybe 1000 except for a few impala.  That means hours of driving with nothing to show for it. Seriously, not one elephant, not a zebra, not a giraffe, not a kudu.  Nothing. In the end, did see a few of the usual suspects, but doing nothing unusual and no cats at all.  The weather was changing all day – I don’t know if that has something to do with it.  But it’s demoralizing for sure.

It’s hard to explain, but I spend maybe 8 hours a day and sometimes 10, driving slowly down roads – often pretty poor roads – with 95 degree air blowing in my face, trying to watch the road and constantly scanning the area around me.  And, the truth is, lions could be 30 yards off the road and it would be easy to miss them.  Leopards – forget about it.  Hell, I’ve even driven right by elephants without seeing them until I was past.  It’s the nature of the bush.  And then if you do see something, whether you get much of a shot depends mostly on variables out of your control.  The distance is the biggest.  But also, is there a clear shot without intervening brush?  And light? You can position your car a little bit here or there, but your range of movement is severely limited. Oh, and animals move.  And they know what’s normal, you know?  In other words, you can drive by an eagle sitting in a tree all day long, but the minute you stop your car, or turn around or, especially, the minute you point something like a lens at them, they’re outta there.  They’re not stupid and their lives depend on noticing the details.  So much luck involved, even if you do see something cool.

A good meal at the restaurant here helps.  It’s by far the best restaurant I’ve found in the park.  Now, two beers down, showered and it’s almost 8pm.  I think I go to bed early, get up early and hope for a better day tomorrow. 

In general, fewer animals up north.  But, it’ll be different and my luck’s got to change.  Hopefully I’ll see some nyala.  One of the loveliest antelopes.  A real charmer.

November 8, Letaba

After several hot days, two days of thunderstorms and a very overcast, blustery and cool day yesterday (first and only time I’ve needed a jacket so far), I’m looking over the Letaba River valley on a beautiful cool, soft spring day.  There really is something of a sea breeze on these spring days, even though we’ve got Mozambique between us and the Indian Ocean.  Just lovely.

Shooting continues to be a struggle.  I’m beginning to be at peace with that.  It’ll be what it’ll be and all I can do is keep showing up and hoping for the opportunity. 

Watched baboons this morning.  I love watching baboons.  There’s always so much going on and the more you observe, the more you kind of get the hang of it.  Who’s dominant to who, who the little bastard troublemakers are, who just wants to be left in peace.  Baboons seem to find newborn infants irresistible.  And who wouldn’t, really.  Attention always seems focused on the newest newborn and the mother and baby are constantly approached by other females, making grunts of appeasement, who want to touch or hold the baby.  Sometimes these mothers have newborns of their own clutching their chests, but they can’t seem to resist touching or hugging or trying to pull the new baby away.  Often the visitors are overbearing and rough, resulting sometimes in a physical tug of war with the baby in the middle.  Sometimes – I suspect when the mother sees a higher ranking female approaching – the mother simply grabs the newborn and moves away.  Today I watched a mother rebuff all entreaties – and there were many – to hold or hug the baby  Then, after watching for a half-hour or more, the mother simply put the baby down and moved off a ways away to concentrate on feeding.  Several other baboons picked up the baby who seemed bewildered, upset and very anxious to return to his mother.  Then everyone sort of lost interest.  Decided it was old news I suppose.

Moving back to Letaba today for two days.  Then Mopani and Shingwedzi as this phase winds down.  In one week, the girls will be here. 

November 6, Olifants

Sitting at my bungalow overlooking the Olifants River valley at 7:30 pm.  It’s been a hot day, but not like a couple of days back, and now a dry wind is blowing as I sit here typing under the yellow light of my porch.

Moved to Olifants last night and was lucky enough to be assigned a bungalow overlooking the broad river valley.  We’re coming to the end of the dry season and each night seems to build closer to rain.  Last night I sat on the porch in the dark and watched the most amazing electrical storm over Mozambique.  The sky was constantly alit with lightening flashes to the north and east.  It was far enough away that you couldn’t hear anything but the substantial wind.  It was like the end of the world and must have been scary as hell for the animals.

Long after I’d tried to go to sleep, the storm moved in to full thunder and heavy rain.  All of the windows were open and, together with a troubling back, I didn’t get much sleep.  So a different routine today.  I didn’t get up until nearly six and then did a half-hearted drive around, had some toast and two double espressos and came back to take a nap.  Slept a small bit, but felt better and went back out this afternoon.

Generally, the photography is going poorly.  I’ll explain later what’s so damned difficult about it, but the bottom line is that getting anything here is, near as I can tell, about 90% luck.  Last year, I was very lucky early.  This year – well, I know the park better, know the animals and the bush better, and I’m just not getting crap.  It’s hard to get up at 0415 every morning and just drive around and not get much of value.  I get demoralized but then I find some place along a river and sit in my car in the shade and think about how beautiful it is here.  It can be like a beautiful spring morning in the Texas Hill Country (except imagine it crawling with lions and elephants) and sometimes I sit and feel the breeze and listen to the birds and think about how good life can be.  In a way, I think it’s like waiting for your luck to turn at poker.  If you can hang in there and don’t go broke, it’s bound to change.  Obviously my aversion to fighting the crowds doesn’t help because the simplest thing to do would be to drive around as fast as the law allows until I come to some traffic jam and then try and force my way in to photograph whatever sleeping lions there are.  No thanks.

Last night, I was right at the end of the time window (the gate closes at 6:30pm and you’d better be there…) when some guy stopped me on the road and said that there was a male lion about 1K behind him.  I had just enough time and because it was the end of the evening, traffic was thinning out so I took a chance.  I was kicking myself because while he said the lion was on the left, I didn’t ask how far off the road and thought I might just miss him (you have no idea how easy it is to just drive right by a lion, especially with the light fading) but I needn’t have worried because as I came around the bend he was standing in the middle of the road looking (at about eye level) at some people in a new, black BMW.  Then he flopped down on the road.  Luckily the folks in the BMW didn’t stay long so I backed up by the lion and popped a few frames.  He was a particularly spooky lion.  Some kind of bad vibe about this guy.  Something about the way his eyes never seemed to quite focus.  If he is truly a solitary male (and I think he was), then his life is assuredly very hard.  Anytime he wanders into a pride’s territory, he’ll represent a mortal threat to the males of the pride (typically prides are led by a coalition of 2 – 4 adult males).  They will immediately drive him away or kill him if they can.  It’s very difficult for a solitary lion (especially an old male) to hunt effectively, so I’m certain the guy was feeling very haunted.  When I look at the photos, I can see how scarred up he is.  Again, these aren’t Hollywood lions and life is very hard for them.  It’s only a matter of time before a group of pride males catches up with him and sends him to lion heaven.  Anyway, some lions look like big cats and make you go, “Aww.”  Sometimes though you just know they’ve eaten people and you really are just protein.

Gina contacted me today, asking if there’d be some opportunity to Skype soon.  That filled me with a sense of foreboding, fearing that something happened in my family, but it turned out to only be an insurance question.  I was irritated, not with Gina to be sure, but that somehow that part of my life found me here.  That part will come soon enough.

The rain yesterday doesn’t mark the end of the dry season.  It’ll take several days of soaking rain.  But soon, the termites will come.

Today is Saturday.  The girls will be here in one week.  I miss them a lot.

November 5, Letaba

Late breakfast on the veranda.  Checking out of Letaba and moving south back to Olifants for a few days.  Then back to Letaba for a couple of days.  I don’t remember why I booked it this way – don’t remember if it was an availability issue or if I just wanted to keep moving around.  Whatever.  Down side of moving is that you’re homeless between check-out (10 AM) and check-in (2 PM).  Too hot to find animals and you got no bed for napping so it’s basically find a place to sit and cook.

So the heat really arrived yesterday.  It was about 100F by noon and topped out at about 105F, if my mental conversions are on target.  I don’t remember much about yesterday except that by about 0900, it was all but over.  Every animal in the park was either standing under some distant tree or standing in some distant body of water.  Nothing was moving.  I saw some buffalo, each of which reclined under some pitiful bush, half unconscious, not even willing to open their eyes when I stopped the car 5 meters away.  Saw juvenile baboons chasing secretary birds away from a water tank.  Just for sport. 

Slept with the air conditioning on last night.  I’m not proud of it, but….

Up earlier this morning and  out for a drive.  It was not as cool as it’s been, portending another friggin’ hot day today.  We’d evidently had a few spits of rain as the dust on the car was dappled and there were a few small spots on the roadway where small amounts of water had collected.  I headed north, away from people.  Maybe 10K down the main highway, I saw a warthog running and then stop and look back.  I saw a second warthog also looking agitated.  So I stopped the car and saw a leopard in the tall grass on the side of the road.  I went ahead about 50 meters and did a three-point turn and came back so that the cat would be on my side.  By the time I got to the spot, the leopard had disappeared.  It’s impossible to overstate the ability of a leopard to just melt into its surroundings.  I knew I was no more than 20 meters away but couldn’t see it.  I drove about 30 meters down the road, turned around again and waited.  The leopard emerged, unconcerned about my presence and then sauntered across the road and off to my right.  After a short distance, it lay down in the grass.  If I hadn’t seen where it stopped, I’d have never have been able to see it.  Just the occasional flick of the tail above the level of the grass. I watched and shot the ‘spot the leopard’ photos (that’s most of what you get with leopards) and then it got up, walked further way and then lay down again.  And then again.  And then it was gone, melted  into the background.  It was my time with the leopard and no one else was around even though all of this occurred on the main highway. 

I’ve seen 4 leopards here, so far.  The first was found by a ranger while driving us to the starting point for an evening walk.  The second presented herself to me while I sat on a bluff overlooking the river.  But the last two (in three days), I’ve found by paying attention to other animals.  I think that’s the key with finding many animals, and especially leopards.  You let the other animals tell you where they are.  You just have to pay attention.  I’m convinced that there was a third one at the hide yesterday but I never saw it.  It was there though because the impala snorted alarm and fled, and a bird alarmed and then a giraffe walked by, carefully watching a place in the grass.  Unfortunately, that place was out of sight from the hide.  But something was there.

Later drove down the Tzende River road.  It was a beautiful morning and I didn’t see another vehicle on the road.  Not a lot of wildlife - the usual suspects - but it was quiet and beautiful and a very nice drive.  About 14K into it, I came around a bend and there was a big bull elephant walking up the road.  I shut the car off to see what it would do but having seen me it walked purposefully directly at me.  I backed up about 100 meters and waited and it kept walking right at me.  It wasn’t doing anything overtly aggressive but the intent was clearly to intimidate me.  Every now and then, it would pause, pull some branch and pretend to eat but then drop it and resume walking toward me.  I kept backing off, shutting off the engine and waiting to see if he eventually would turn off and begin feeding but he kept coming.  So I backed further off and around a bend and waited to see if he would continue to follow me around the bend.  I saw him emerge from the bush and he’d taken a shortcut, essentially continuing on a straight line in my direction.  That left him maybe 50 meters off the road, so I started up, dropped it into first and scooted by as quickly as possible, while he turned and watched me go, head held high.  In my experience, this is a pretty common occurrence.  I’ve been through it 3 or 4 times now and I really do think it is about establishing who’s the boss.  And of course, we all know who’s the boss in that circumstance….  These bulls, and I think especially the younger ones, are the original ‘swinging dicks’ – figuratively and sometimes literally.  I’ve seen them push hippos around for the hell of it and even seen them chase warthogs way, just to make the point.

And now I’m here, dripping in sweat, overlooking the Letaba River.  There’s a big bull with huge tusks down in the river and I’ve seen about 10 giraffe splashing around in the water.

A young German couple has arrived.  The guy orders a beer at 1000, then asks if it’s too early to order lunch.  Germans crack me up. 

November 3, Letaba

I’ve discovered the new flavor of Africa.  It’s a cold pineapple yogurt drizzled atop Multi Grain Cheerios.  It’s cool and delicious as I sit at the table in my screened porch on a very hot, still afternoon.  There’s little sound except for the cooing of an African Mourning Dove and the quiet rumble of my refrigerator.  Even during the middle of the day, the camp is usually bustling with noisy, laughing workers cleaning the grounds or doing various maintenance projects, but it must be hot enough that they’re all sitting in the shade somewhere. 

Dawn broke clear, without a cloud in the sky, portending the present heat.  The light was beautiful and I just needed something to shoot.  But therein lies the hell of this place.  I drove off the paved road, toward where I’d seen the leopard yesterday, knowing there’d be little traffic.  But very few animals too.  Watched some languid baboons, lazing about and grooming each other.  Saw a young hyena, curious about the baboons who were telling him (or her – they both have phalluses.  There are differences in small detail and females are larger and more aggressive but I haven’t mastered it) to get lost.  The quiet emergence of a huge bull kudu who also quietly melted back into the bush.  Mother and child hippos playing in the water at long distance.  A nice morning really, but nothing much to shoot. 

About 9, I came in and had a double espresso and some toast.  Talked to my server, Matimbo.  She is a journalism student, and she spoke excitedly of her hopes for her young country.  You’d never hear someone talk like that in the US.  There was talk of, and I think real grasping for, hope in 2008, but it’s well and truly gone now.  Now it’s the same old mean cancerous cynicism, drowning us all in mediocrity.  Best not to think about it.

Went back out for an hour but it was clear that every animal was, a) in the water somewhere, or b) sitting in the shade of one of the few large trees.  Was able to come close only to a group of impala resting in the shade but they weren’t that comfortable with me there and when they showed signs of actually having to walk over to the next tree (complete with eye rolling and huffy breaths), I drove off.  And returned to camp.

A short, restless attempt under the ceiling fan to take a nap, inhabiting that zone between sleep and waking where random thoughts and images tumble into your head – the Smothers Brothers, Mary - who broke my heart in 1978 (let’s hope she’s fat now), the glimpse of my life clock which indicated that, crap, it’s later than I thought. 

Then, hungry, and yogurt and cereal and a bottle of cold water.

Last night I fixed dinner.  The restaurant is good here, but I was sick of eating out and alone every night so I threw something together.  Let’s just say that many years of survival as a college student and then bachelor means that I can make something edible out of macaroni, sliced process cheese and instant soup mix.  Edible, but something that would feel almost exactly how I imagine eating rocks would feel.

But two glasses of cheap South African red wine and the lions roared nearby last night and there was some sort of elephant squabble right outside the fence.  You can’t get that in Bend.

November 2, Letaba

A pleasant, breezy morning on the veranda of the restaurant at Letaba.  I’m having the “Continental” buffet – meaning cereal and yogurt.  On my second double espresso so there’s little chance of my heart just stopping in the next couple of hours.

Got up at 0445 and was on the road by 0515.  Left the camp and didn’t turn left toward the lions.  Instead I turned right on the main road and took the first unpaved road to the left.  It’s a lovely road that parallels the Letaba River.  Sun had just risen and there was no one on the road.  There are numerous little turnouts that enable you to take in the vista on the high bank over the river.  At the first, I shut the car off and just sat back and enjoyed the morning.  Really beautiful – soft sunlight, cool breeze.  As I watched I saw something move through the reeds below.  Sort of a feline shoulder working along the reeds on the bank.  Lion occurred to me first, but in that instant I caught a glimpse of a white tail and I knew I was watching a leopard.  She moved cautiously through the reeds, carefully stopping to sniff here and there.  A pair of Egyptian geese were making a hell of a racket on the shore – obviously they’d seen the leopard and wanted everyone to know.  As an aside – there are two problems with Egyptian geese.  First, they’re everywhere – at least anywhere there is water.  Second, they make a hell of a racket about everything and mostly about what other geese are doing.  I think it’s mating season here so the males are constantly carrying on and chasing each other away.  So complaining geese doesn’t seem to draw much notice in the bush. 

The leopard poked around quietly and then proceeded to lie down in a small clearing directly in front of me.  I was probably 50 meters away – not as close as I’d like for photography of course – but she was right out in the open.  And she proceeded to take a nap.  So, instead of lions, I had almost an hour of alone time with a leopard, surely the most beautiful of the cats.  Eventually, she stood up and quietly moved back into the bush and out of sight.

The rest of the drive was uneventful.  Saw a nice martial eagle, various bee-eaters and a big bull elephant with enormous tusks.  And now I’m here, finishing breakfast.  It’s 1020 and I’m thinking it’s time for a short nap.

November 1, Letaba

Two glasses of wine down.  It’s 8:17pm and I’m about done. 

A good day, but not a lot to show for it photographically.  It’s discouraging and I feel very far behind where I was a year ago.  I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out what to do differently but it’s so much about luck.  I don’t know.

But a good day nonetheless.  Yesterday drove up from the chaos of Lower Sabie to spend a night back at Satara, which sits about in the middle of the park and is a good staging area.  Generally, Satara hasn’t been my favorite camp – it’s large and congested and doesn’t seem to have the same character as some camps.  But it was good.  My room was clean.  I was on the fence, which means I watched Cape buffalo drink at night and hyenas were trotting by when I woke up.

Hit the road early and finally the sun started to appear.  When the sun does come, the light is very pretty here.  Light in Bend is very harsh – I assume it’s the elevation, the dry air or the northern latitude or some combination.  Here, it’s almost Gulf-like – it feels like the Gulf with breezes and a slight haze that gives the light a very soft quality.  I hit a road this morning that had virtually no traffic so I might go for 45 minutes or more without seeing another vehicle.  I’ve become a misanthrope here and would almost go somewhere where there are no animals if it means no people.  Fortunately, I saw some nice things.  Followed tracks for a long time on the unpaved road – tracks I didn’t quite recognize until I came around the bend and there were two white rhinos – a mother and her calf.  That of course is what I’d been following and I saw other rhino tracks on that drive.  Also so a pair of ostrich and their 6 chicks.  I didn’t even recognize the chicks at first – there are so many various fowl running around the bush, but when the parents zigged off the road, these six zigged with them and then it was clear.

Good drive this morning.  Then lunch at Letaba, check in, take a short nap, shower and back out.   Went around the Englehardt damn this afternoon.  It’s beautiful there and the light was beautiful.  Lots of elephant sign around though I only saw one.  Saw some old buffalo bulls.  I really like Cape buffalo.  They’re not as engaging as the cats, but they have some real character and I think the old bulls are photogenic as hell.  Typically, the prime bulls, the cows and the calves stick together in fairly large herds.  Bulls that are past their prime either leave or are forced out.  They spend time in solitude or form loose associations with other bulls.  Think your old bachelor uncle Gus and his card playing cronies.  These are the bulls, by the way, who are the most dangerous.  Because they’re not in the protection of a large group, they’re especially vulnerable to predators (meaning lions) and their defenses are set on hair-trigger.  I saw several of these old bulls during the drive this afternoon.  Two were settled in the shade, rump to rump, chewing cud.  One  looked strong and healthy but the other was clearly nearing the end of the line.  He was big but he had one eye and numerous tumors on his belly and his horns were worn down to rounded nubs.  I watched him for quite a while and then he struggled up to his feet to go graze for a bit.  Almost nothing dies in the bush of old age and this old guy isn’t long for this world.

Heading back along the unpaved road, driving to beat the gate closure, I came across three cars parked.  And of course it was lions again.  There were about 6 females that I could see, lazing about in the open.  Thinking about a hunt.  That creates a dilemma of course.  They didn’t have any kill that I could detect.  That means that they’re hunting right now as I write this.  Maybe kill that old bull.  I could get up first thing and race to where I saw them last and hope to stumble onto the kill, if there is one.  Position myself so when the light comes, I’d have something to shoot.  Get there before the scrum starts, though by the time there’s any light, I’m certain that I’ll have some VW diesel rattling in my ear while the German tourists talk loudly about how there are LIONS there.  That’s assuming we even find these guys of course.

Or, I could just go the other direction and see what I find.  It’s making my head hurt. I think I’ll go to bed and something will come to me at 4:30 am.

October 31, Lower Sabie

Happy Halloween.  Sitting in the AfriWeb "Internet Cafe" at Lower Sabie on a cool, heavily overcast morning.  Got up early this morning and decided to take a stab at seeing/shooting lions.  One more time.  Yesterday evening, I came across some lions who had just made a kill.  Couldn't really see them - they were sleeping back in the bush.  Just a hint of tawny color and movement of heavy breathing while digesting a full meal.  So my plan was to head out as soon as the gate opened and get there before the hoards and have some quiet time with the lions.  It sort of worked.  I did get there well before everyone else.  Had to look around a bit - they'd cleverly moved to the other side of the road in order to lie about in the open.  They're fiendishly clever.  It was overcast and dark and they were far enough away that there was really no opportunity to photograph them. But it was nice to have my quiet time with lions and just breath it in.  Eventually another vehicle arrived.  Then a big photo safari vehicle full of real photographers.  Brother.  Remind me to shoot myself if I'm ever tempted to do that.  At that point, the lions all stood up and started walking through the bush toward the main road.  So we all drove around the corner a hundred meters or so and tried to guess where they'd emerge.  Then they came out onto the road - eight of them.  A couple of young males, four females and a couple of youngish cubs.  And they just casually walked up the road toward Lower Sabie.  At that point it was all over.  Huge crowds of people keeping pace with them.  Like disciples.  Again, there's the experience of big males walking by so close that you literally could lean out of the window and touch them.  It's breathtaking.  What people don't realize is that these aren't Hollywood lions.  They're scarred, lumpy, dirty.  The little ones both looked to have some sort of abscesses.  Anyway, the scrum got too big so I eventually passed all of the lions (on the right of course) and left that herd of sorry people.

Then, a few kilometers down the road, I see another big traffic jam.  You have to realize that there aren't lots of roads.  There's really only one way to go anywhere.  So, I'm thinking, great, more frickin' lions.  But they weren't lions.  It was a pack of wild dogs, moving fast along the road.  Now lions are cool, but dogs are a much more significant sight.  They're highly endangered.  They also move fast so they're not that easy to see and they seem to concentrate on the southern end of the park where I am now.  So, now I'm in another scrum, following the dogs.  I love to see the dogs but I'm realizing how much I'm not liking people, or at least how people behave under a circumstance where there's truly a once in a lifetime opportunity to see a rare predator and not everyone can have the same view.  But as every photographer knows, everyone is a 'photographer', in their mind's eye at least.  And, the dogs are moving.  So, I bailed, eventually working my way past the dogs, past the photo safari lady who's concern for her clients trumped anyone else's experience.

So I was angry and agitated.  One of the things about spending so much time alone here is that it's easy to stay too much in your head and obsess at the rudeness and boorishness of people, meaning of course people besides me and my friends.  I was wondering what would happen if I lost it and ended up in a fist fight in the middle of a road in Kruger National Park.  But then I remembered that I am 56 and have never actually been in a fist fist fight, really.  I'm guessing no good would come of that and the ultimate indignity would be to lose a fight to a French tourist.

So in this state of mind, I headed back to the camp at Lower Sabie to take a stab at breakfast.  And, amazingly, the restaurant was empty.  The 'barista' was pleasant and poured me a competent double espresso, and then another.  I decided to have yogurt and granola in the restaurant and Norbert the waiter was pleasant and attentive.  And actually walked around the corner to the shop to get jam because the restaurant didn't have any.  And I sat there overlooking the Lower Sabie River, watching hippos and a fish eagle, pestered by beautiful birds begging for food, and all seemed to reach balance again.

I don't know if there's a lesson here.  I'm trying to be more accepting of the fact that people all show up with various portions of selfishness, cluelessness and charity.  All I want is more quiet time with the wildlife.  And perfect lighting.  I came from halfway across the world.  I deserve it, right?

ps

Do you realize that in certain European countries, men wear capris?  Seriously.  Makes me want to wash my hands and go to Talledega.

October 28, Olifants

Sitting on the table on the patio of my bungalow at Olifants, watching a yellow camp bird attacking it’s reflection in the sideview mirror of my neighbor’s Land Cruiser.  Just signed release to do an ‘afternoon walk’.  Afternoon walks are an opportunity to take a 2 hour walk through the bush with a couple of rangers.  A chance to get off one’s butt and walk a bit (and it’s been days since I’ve done any walking to speak of) in the company of someone who knows something about the bush.  I’ve did several last year and the rangers varied from arrogant and uncommunicative to interesting and informative.  Their first role of course is to keep the guests safe – I get the impression that there’s a ton of paperwork if you get a guest hurt and if you get a guest killed, well, forget about it….

Bottom line is you get what you get.  I think rangers are like school teachers maybe – they start out with a deep passion for their work but they’re badly underpaid and under appreciated.  Some soldier on without losing their enthusiasm and some become withdrawn and maybe a little bitter.  We’ll see.  Best thing is to be on foot for a while.  My experience is that it’s rare to see any big animals but it is an opportunity to talk about the all the little things one can find in the bush and I think the rangers appreciate someone with an interest in trees and birds and spiders.

I’m completing my second full day at Kruger.  I’ve been disappointed in my shooting.  Seems like I was way ahead  two days in last year, but maybe I’m not remembering that right.  Trying to remind myself to stay patient.  It’s hard shooting from a car and to a large extent, you take what’s given to you.  You just have to be ready to see it and exploit it when something cool shows up.

Oh, look at the time.  Gotta go.

October 27, Satara

Yesterday I was up at about 3:30 am.  Tossed around for a while and gave it up, packing and getting things prepared.  Skyped Gina and Aislin at 6am.  It was great to see and hear them and Az insisted on dragging poor Tunzi the cat onto the table so that I could see her too.  I heard about the snow in Bend on that cool beautiful morning in Johannesburg.  Breakfast and shuttle to the airport to pick up rental car.  All went seamlessly and I headed out in my Corolla at 7:30, immediately heading the wrong way on R21.  But it was quickly remedied and, with the exception of a missed turn in Belfast, made it to the Orpen gate without adventure.  It was hazy and smoky along the way – farmers burn their fields here in the same way that we do in Oregon.  When I reached Kruger and entered the Orpen gate, there were giraffe and impala and kudu all waiting and before I’d reached the camp (about 50k), had seen elephant, zebra and hippo as well.

Satara is one of the larger camps and it’s a bustling place, full of noisy tourists from around the world.  Checked in at about 3pm, and went to the store for some basic provisions and then out for a quick drive south.  One of the really striking things on arrival here is fire.  There have obviously been many massive grass fires – right up to the gates of Satara – and many are still smoldering.  It’s cool, windy and it’s difficult to differentiate the smoke from the low overcast.

Lions, lions, lions

In a way, I hate seeing lions at Kruger.  Don’t get me wrong – I love the idea of lions.  They’re big and nasty and are both sociable and incredibly violent.  But they’re also the rock stars of KNP and anytime lions are visible the result is a huge, noisy traffic jam.  Diesels rattle, tourists talk loudly (really, is there anything louder than a German tourist?) and you can’t get by on the road.  But, they are lions and there was a big male sleeping on the road just south of the park.  The road parallels a dry riverbed which is low that the bed is out of sight.  Along the river however is a large tree full of vultures.  That means two things.  First, the lions have a kill down in the riverbed.  When lions have a large kill, they will hang around for several days, eating at their leisure and keeping the scavengers away.  They’ll tag team it – one will eat and guard the kill while the others lumber off somewhere to sleep or walk to the nearest water for a drink.  So, in this case that means that a) there are other lions around, out of sight and b) the kill is fresh enough that they’re bothering to keep the vultures away.  I made a mental note to come back next day and finished up with my short drive.  Dinner, glass of wine and to bed early.

Woke up at about 1:45am.  One of the consequences of jet lag.  Thought about stuff for a couple of hours and went back to sleep.  Awakened at about 4:30 then by the birds and by hyenas very close to the camp.  Man, there’s nothing like hearing hyenas at night.  Out the gate at 5:30am, heading south.  And of course, there’re two lions sleeping in the road a few hundred meters north of the kill.  A crowd was gathering and there wasn’t really much of a shot so made my way through the scrum and went on to the site of the kill.  For the hell of it, I parked and started taking shots of the vultures, practicing with my new window mount.  Then I looked to the right and a beautiful dark male with a dark stripe down the center of his mane walked up out of the draw and lay down about 20 meters away.  I shot for a while and then he got up and walked directly behind my car and started to call.  If you’ve never been near a roaring lion, it’s an awesome experience.  He was literally 5 feet behind the car, rattling my guts with his call.  Then his calls were answered from down in the riverbed and I was in the middle of lions roaring in stereo.  I so wished Aislin was there – I think she’d be amazed by the experience. 

Drove on for 3 hours on this cool, overcast morning and then headed back toward Satara to have coffee and check out.  Now there were two males sleeping in the road. - the dark male with the dark strip in the mane and another male – probably the one returning his calls.  Sat in the car not 5 feet away, marveling at the full bellies and the labored breathing of the truly engorged.

Now back here at Satara, enjoying an espresso and preparing to check out and begin heading north to Olifants.  Need to stop at the store and buy additional electrical adapters (one consequence of jet lag is leaving a bag full of adapters at the hotel in J’burg, damnit).

It’s good to be back and I’m slowly regaining the routine of life here.