A Day in the Life of Gilbert the Gnu

As Gnus go, Gilbert was pretty average. He was of average height, for a Gnu. He had an average colour, Gnu-wise and had pointy horns of average size. Overall, he was just one of the crowd, and he liked it.

When he awoke to the rising sun that morning, it seemed a pretty average day. Warm, sunny, a good to be alive kinda day. 

Gilbert was not what you would call a leader. In fact, Gnus in general tended to follow not to lead. If a prophet of  Gnus was put on earth by the Holy Wildebeest on high, he would have had no trouble finding followers. By the million.

Not having leaders presents an organisational problem, which they solve in the normal way. Committees. 

If you feel that you want a decision, but have no one to make it, committees work, er , not at all. The discussions usually went along these lines:

"What do you wanna do?"

"Er, I dunno, what do you wanna do?" 

Etc etc.

This would carry on for a while until some bright spark would say " Bugger this, I'm off down the pub!"

And others would follow.

And so, it was another day. Another day the same as all the other days. Gilbert liked that consistency and liked being one of the crowd. 

Today was no exception. Although a decision needed to be made. The herd had arrived at the banks of a river. They tended to wander around aimlessly, except that there was a slight pressure there, somewhere in the back of their consciousness, that there was a direction to take. Greener grass? Maybe, but Gilbert liked clouds. He liked the patterns they made. As a young Gnu he would cry out "Hey! That looks like uncle Dilbert!" or "See that large rock!". As an adult, being macho and all, he no longer shouted aloud his thoughts, but he still liked putting faces to clouds, and always wanted a closer look. Plus he had needs.

Gilbert's needs had to be fulfilled. Gilbert liked eating, sleeping, drinking and the occasion locking of horns prior to sex. All his mates were the same. Well, that is, apart from those of the female persuasion. They liked eating, sleeping, drinking and shopping. 

Although Gilbert felt happy with life, he still had those needs. His urge for sex had abated. He'd succeeded with several females between their shopping trips. Now, what he really needed was food. And there wasn't a lot of that around here due to all his mates gorging on what little was available. He, and his mates, needed to move on. Except for the little matter of which direction to take, bearing in mind that bloody great river.

Gilbert arrived at the latest committee meeting a little late. Or maybe a little early. It didn't really matter.

The usual "I donno, what do you wanna do"s were being thrown about, rapidly arriving nowhere as committees do.

This time, someone mentioned that perhaps they should try to get to the other side of this giant flowing waterhole. Thankfully, the Heath and Safety sub-committee pointed out that this would be insane, especially in the slips and falls department.

After much pointless wrangling, the usual "Bugger this, I'm off down the pub!" was heard from the usual suspects, and off they went, following what seemed, at the time, like a good idea.

Going down the pub is a very important social event for Gnus. Sometimes they would go days between drinks down the pub, but here, the pub was everywhere. It stretched for miles, and so seemed the obvious place to go. The trouble is, Gnus, as already pointed out, tend to follow. When you are standing at the bar, throwing back several pints of the local brew, it is beyond irritating to have loads of your mates trying to push through. After much pushing, shoving, and generally ignorant behaviour, one particular Gnu had nowhere to go but forward. He looked up and thought, "Bloody he'll, it's too bloody crowded here" then realised that, just across the way, there was a huge bar, devoid of any pushing or shoving! He did what came natural to him. He leapt.

 

In retrospect, he realised that it was crazy. But, too late. Gnus follow. And this they did.

Gilbert was, as usual, in the middle of the throng. As everyone was following, he had little choice but to join in. Soon, he and almost all the others had joined in this mad escapade.

 

Crazy? Maybe, but Gilbert new that the best place to be was in the middle. Besides, he had vague memories of having done this before. And he was ok yes? So go for it. 

It was here that he discovered his innate inability to cling on to slippery wet rocks unseen underwater. He struggled to get a grip. He was halfway across when he found his footing. An oasis of land in a desert of water.

 

Sadly, others had the same idea. He was forced to go on, but this time he wasn't comfortably in the middle, but scrabbling on the outside. 

 

Something told him this wasn't right. But, no choice, he had to go on.

Then, something changed. His feet, scrabbling for grip, continued to do so. Except one. One of his feet suddenly wouldn't move. Trapped in a rock? He tried to jerk it free. It would not budge. 

After madly trying to break free for a while, he realised that all he was achieving was fatigue. He stopped. He looked behind to try to discern that which had entrapped him. 

Shock.

 

It was not a rock. No, much more dangerous than that, there was something alive and really big attached to his back leg.

He twisted. He turned. It remained stuck fast.

 

Gilbert was scared. He cried out for help. He cried out for his friends. He cried out in vain. None would help. All pushed past locked in their own torment. Gilbert realised finally that fighting against this monster would not help, no saviour would come. The Health and Safety sub-committee had passed him by along with most of his herd. He continued to tire. He began to sink further into the flowing water.

 

This struggle took long minutes, interminable minutes which stretched and stretched. He could not escape, but he would not be dragged down. More than thirty long achingly painful minutes went by. Stalemate. But the beast attached to his leg was going nowhere.

His herd was still, after all this time and in their huge numbers, passing by. The numbers waxed and waned.

Suddenly, a change! The ebb and flow of passing Gnu went straight towards the struggling pair. 

 

Collision! The crocodiles grip was loosened. Gilbert s leg was free!

This was his moment for freedom. His one chance to escape. In that moment, he could not believe his luck! He checked behind him to see that he was really free. 

That was his fatal mistake. His terminal error. 

Looking behind him, the crocodile struck!

 

This time, the crocs aim was true. Not a foot captured this time, but Gilbert's entire head!

 

This grip was never going to let go. 

 

There could be no escape. Gilbert had no energy left. The intense pain and total incapacity was to be short, if not sweet. Gilbert was slowly but surely dragged down.

 

The excruciating pain was soon to dull. His attempts at a scream only succeeded in sucking in large volumes of dirty river water.

 

Gilbert sunk beneath the surface, consciousness fading, and with it the pain, and any hope of seeing friends, food or, most importantly it seemed, clouds ever again. 

Gilbert died that day, but laid there gently bloating and putrefying at the bottom of the Mara, until, after a few days, he was ready to be slowly eaten by his ever patient killer. 

In death, there is life. Just not for Gilbert.

________

For some other photos of the Mara crossing, click here. 

Just a River

 

The Mara is a river, pretty much like any other river. It looks quite inviting if paddling is your thing. However, I wouldn't advise it. There be dragons.

For most animals in the Serengeti, the Mara is there for drinking or living in. Like most rivers in tropical Africa, it harbours some animals that turn paddling into an extreme sport.

 

Hippos look, if anything, a little silly. Don't let that fool you. They are killers, known to be the most dangerous animal in Africa. They may be vegetarian, but that won't stop them removing a couple of your limbs. 

They hang around in the water most of the day to avoid sunburn. This makes their choice of country a little silly. They wander around on land at night, and can go surprisingly far and surprisingly fast, but the water is their true home. 

Most interestingly for me is their ancestry. Whereas our closest family is the Chimpanzee, with common ancestors roaming the forests of Africa but 5 million years ago, the ancestors of the hippo were wandering around the rivers of Africa about 50 million years ago, some evolving into hippos of course, while others headed off to sea to evolve into whales. Yes it is true, the closest living relatives of hippos are whales. It is truly a crazy world we live in. 

Living alongside these erstwhile whales are the real dragons. 

 

This guy is enormous. He and his ilk have not change much over the years. Unlike the hippos and whales, they evolved into their niche when dinosaurs were wiped out nearly 90 million years ago. Why change when you've got your way of life all sorted out? In fact, the only living relatives of the dinosaurs are crocodiles and, you guessed it, birds...

Crocodiles may not have changed much, but the rivers they live in have. The splitting of Africa to form the Rift Valley has changed not only the course of its rivers, but also the climate itself. The Serengeti is in the tropics. The sun is always overhead. It has no summer or winter. But it does have seasons. Sometimes wet, sometimes dry, the seasons control the supply of grass, the basic food of the wildebeest. 

And here comes evolution again. The wildebeest cover the plains of Africa in their millions. That takes a lot of food. Those hanging about for the dry season are going to find eating a problem. To survive as a species, they must find grazing land. They must follow the rains. Here is the invisible power of evolution. Those that wander around generally in the direction of clouds, well, they survive. Those that don't, well, they die. Over the millennia, this has evolved into a survival trait. They have an innate ability to head in the general direction of clouds. Unfortunately, although this means survival for the species as a whole, individually it can be a little harrowing. To head in the general direction of clouds means having to cross the occasional river. 

 

 Which can lead to total chaos

 

and worse.

The hooves of wildebeest are not entirely well adapted to slippery rocks. Slipping over in a river is one thing, getting eaten is another.

To fully understand the wildebeest, I'm going to look at one specific gnu called 'Eric'. His name has been changed to protect the innocent. He'll make an appearance (and a disappearance) in the next blog...

Alongside the hordes of wildebeest, you'll often see a lot of zebra going along just for the fun of it.

 

Hmmm. Not easy to spot. They don't always do so well either...

 

Nature red in tooth and claw. This guy survived one encounter, but has weakened him for the next, and probably his last, encounter.

I'll link to all the photos in the next blog, entitled 'A Day in the Life of Eric the Gnu'. Hold on to your bladders...

A Lot of Fuss about Absolutely Nothing

This is a rant, not my usual photoblog and it won't even include any photos. It's about a subject very close to my heart. 

Pseudoscience. Woo. Quackery. Or as proponents like to call it: CAM or Complementary and Alternative Medicine.

Let's start by getting one thing clear. CAM is NOT medicine (alternative medicine that works is simply called medicine) and it is NOT complementary, it adds absolutely zilch to conventional treatment. It is, in fact, anti-medicine.

Now I completely understand that some choose to believe that it works. Either by being misinformed, by being ignorant of the facts, or because of grasping at straws. I truly understand that. But it is unforgivable when those that know better pretend that it works. 

I belong to a small and privileged profession. We are generally well respected and trusted. This puts us into a position of power. Clients trust us. This give us the power to do great good.

I get incredibly angry when members of my profession abuse that trust. There are only a small number of us who do this, but they do exist and they know who they are. 

Three years ago I started to fight this in a small way. I have only now reached some kind of closure.

There are a number of vets that use CAM. Most use homeopathy, one of the most transparent and ridiculous attempts to con people ever invented. I won't bore you with the full details here, but it is just water. Simply water. Water and nothing else but water. If you are prepared to believe that small amounts of pure water will cure you of all kinds of ailments, then that is your choice. As described above, I understand. But heavens above, it is just bloody water! It will however decrease the weight of your wallet.

Fine to use on yourself, good luck to you, but please don't use it on those that depend on you. That includes both your family and your pets. Giving plain water to your pets instead of evidence based medication may assuage your guilt, may even make you think you're doing some good (the care-giver placebo effect), but all you do is increase the suffering of your loved one.

That is not a good thing.

So, three years ago I queried how a website such as natural healing solutions can exist in today's world. The profession remained quiet. The Advertising Standards Association were behind me, the Nightingale Collaboration were behind me, but our governing body (the RCVS) remained silent.

I wrote to the veterinary surgeon who owned the site, a Mr Roger Meacock, asking how he could brazenly advertise such things as a product called 'Aerobic Oxygen' and:

(a)       that Aerobic Oxygen has been found to have a wide range of health benefits;

(b)       that only 10 drops of Aerobic Oxygen will increase the oxygen content of a 8oz glass of water by 440%;

(c)       that Aerobic Oxygen will kill anaerobic bacteria, fungi, viruses and parasites while boosting the immune system;

(d)       that Aerobic Oxygen will reduce the  load on the heart;

(e)       that Aerobic Oxygen will reduce degenerative diseases;

(f)        that Aerobic Oxygen will improve energy levels;

(g)       that Aerobic Oxygen can help normalise cellular function and allow the body to reverse degenerative diseases such as arthritis, adult onset diabetes;

(h)       that Aerobic Oxygen can support poor circulation and help the body fight blood disorders;

(i)         that Aerobic Oxygen can take the strain off the lungs for asthma and emphysema;

(j)         that Aerobic Oxygen supports brain and nerve function including memory, headaches, Alzheimer’s, senile dementia, Parkinson’s;

(k)       that Aerobic Oxygen can improve digestive function;

(l)         that Aerobic Oxygen improves candida;

(m)      that Aerobic Oxygen can reduce tooth decay;

(n)       that Aerobic Oxygen reduces altitude sickness.

This is just CRAZY!!! But there is more!!!

A product called Quinton Marine Plasma:-

(a)       that the innate ability of seawater to support the body through recovery to optimal health is once again being backed by science;

(b)       that Quinton Marine Plasma allows the body to recover from a wide range of medical diseases;

(c)       that Quinton Marine Plasma was successfully used primarily in France to treat Flu epidemics, cholera, TB, eczema, psoriasis and liver disease;

(d)       that Quinton Marine Plasma nasal sprays are excellent for allergies and sinusitis.

IT'S JUST SEA WATER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!!!

And then...

A product called the Russian Healing Blanket:-

(a)       that the specific properties of the localised environment created by the  Russian Healing Blanket around the patient’s body provide the desired activation of the body’s self-regulatory and self-recovery mechanisms;

(b)       that through balancing the meridians etc the Russian Healing Blanket enables the body to correct the overall homeostasis of the organism;

(c)       that recent research has discovered that the timing of treatment during the day can be critical to maximising the success of the treatment;

(d)       that there are now much more successful regimes for using the Multilayer Healing Blanket to treat stress and other psychological issues, weight loss and performance optimisation.

 

Seriously?

And then...

A machine called e-Lybra Bio-Resonance Technology:-

(a)       that, in achieving the energetically balanced individual from a general holistic perspective or more specifically addressing individual or combinations of symptoms, the e-Lybra9 remedies better enable the individual to eliminate and resist disease of all types;

(b)       that e-Lybra9 reveals weaknesses in the immune system and strengthens it to increase resistance to disease;

(c)       that e-Lybra9 enables the creation of bacterial, viral, fungal, enzyme, protein/peptide and pharmaceutical drug remedies.

This little miracle can diagnose over 100,000 illnesses, none of which in reality exist, and then prescribe the 'correct' homeopathic remedy, e.g. water...

COMPLETE BLOODY INSANITY!!!'

And yet there was much more like this. 

He didn't respond to me. 

After complaining to the RCVS, and waiting a little while. Then a little while longer.... After twelve months, the RCVS finally (lost emails, lost will to live) got into motion and sent my queries to this charlatan, and he finally responded to me!

He unfortunately did not answer even one query, but set out on a four page diatribe slinging personal insults at me. After concluding that I was both an extremist zealot and a dinosaur, he finished with a counter claim against me, stating that I was bullying him and could have caused him to kill himself.

Give me strength.

And so the slow process of the Preliminary Investigation Committee of the RCVS was unleashed upon him.

Yawn.

Eighteem months later they finally realised that they weren't going to get anywhere with this guy, and he was sent to the Disciplinary Comittee. Essentially a court.

That was last week. I spent a couple of days in London to watch this spectacle, which, after three years, was something of an anticlimax. The first day was spent out of court with the various solicitors doing their thing, then the next day they appeared in court to state that Mr Meacock had been persuaded to come clean, and remove all the offending material etc etc.

I await with baited breath.

So did I achieve anything? Well, apart from testing my patience to the extreme, I think we can now say that the RCVS will not put up with pseudoscience and quackery. I think. We now need to test this to see if similar websites are removed. 

Have I got what I wanted?

No.

All I want, all I really really want, is for the RCVS to man-up, and stand up to say that pseudoscience and quackery including homeopathy DOES NOT WORK. 

Simple.

You would think...

The Most Powerful of the Big Cats

Leopards are immensely strong. Stronger than any other big cat, weight for weight. 

They are seriouly stunning creatures.

 

They are also the most elusive and secretive. And yet Ian, our guide, managed to get us close up and personal to several of them.

 

Just look up and see what we saw!

 

And then there was this guy, catching the last rays of the sinking sun.

 

We came across a leopard that was on the hunt. He came right up to our truck and successfully changed the colour of Annick's underwear! Her iPhone was ready for the perfect close-up, but she had frozen with fear...

 

Remember marsupilami?

 

This safari was ticking all the right boxes!

For all my favourite photos of my favourite cats, click here.

Next I'm going to move on to the Mara. Two blogs, one about the crossing in general, then a special about one particular gnu and his struggle to survive.

Or not.

The King of Beasts

The Serengeti can appear tranquil and peaceful.

 

It ain't. Everywhere that there is potential prey, there are predators. The king of them all is out there. Anywhere. Right next to your home...

 

No, not the King of the Jungle, they're not too keen on jungles, simply the King of all predators.

 

They hunt, kill, sleep and 'socially intermingle' on the savanna.

and when they start 'socially intermingling', they don't stop for three days at twenty minute intervals.

 

Resulting in many sleepless nights for us happy campers (their howls of ecstasy can be heard up to 8 Km away)

as well as these cutsy cuddly little kittens...

These guys are the epitome of ferocious.

For all the scary lion photos, click here.

Serengeti Cheetahs

Most will know that Cheetahs are the fastest animals on land. Speeds up to a stunning 120Km/h have been measured. 

Incredible but, in the real world, their normal speed is zero. 

 

What they do most frequently is yawn.

 

or closer up...

 

which then turns into a schlump....

 

Whereas their young seem more interested in eating

 

and generally being cute

 

Not the fastest animals on earth as far as I could tell. 

For more photos of Cheetahs not moving fast, click here.

Serengeti scenery

The Serengeti is vast. 15,000 square kilometres of vastness.

It's name means the endless plain. For good reason.

 

But there are a few lumpy bits. Take this one for instance:

 

That looks like a nice place for lunch doesn't it? Except maybe for the leopard sitting on top.

We arrived in the Serengeti by plane. Not exactly a city hopper, but perfectly functional none-the-less.

 

As we descended to the air strip, we flew low over the Mara where we could already see a few hundred wildebeest crossing. 

On landing, we proceeded to do the same, but we took he easy route.

 

If only the wildebeest had figured that out.

We had aimed at arriving at the end of the dry season, but the rains had beaten us to it. Thus the migration had nearly passed. Left behind however were a rich variation of wildlife that we would spend much of the next four days watching and photographing. 

The resultant panoply of photos will take some time to whittle down, so I'll reserve a blog for each of the main characters. In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the view.

 

 

Here's the 'non-animal' photos of the Serengeti that I've sorted so far...

 

Next up, the Cheetah...

A giant hole in planet Earth

If grasping mentally the size of Africa is too difficult, think on this instead. Two to three million years ago, as the great Rift Valley splitting Africa was ponderously opening wider and wider, there were many active volcanoes. The greatest of these blew its top off, heaved ginormous amounts of larva and dust into the atmosphere, then gave up with an enormous sigh and 'schlumped' back down to earth, leaving a hole nearly twenty kilometres across, with a rim well over half a kilometre high.

It is still there. It is still enormous. But it is calm. Inactive. 

It is so phenomenal that surely any earthly name would be inadequate. Maybe this is why it is named after the noise a Massai cow-bell makes.

Ngorongoro.

So big they named it twice.

Thus we headed for this geographical monstrosity. It was on the bucket list, it had to be done. 

We reached the rim and, nearly an hour later, our very remote camp. It was dark. We had been advised to try this new camp as it promised great views over the crater's rim. 

Unfortunately, those who wrote the publicity prior to erecting the camp, new nothing about the local climate. The immense size and precipitous walls of the crater, although geographically stupendous, are also more than big enough to directly affect local weather patterns. Resulting in two constants. Wind and cloud.

It was evening which, near the equator as we were, is very dark. With no possibility of seeing the view, we gratefully ate our dinner.

Well, not so gratefully perhaps. The dinner was basically good fare, except that the chef appeared have a surfit of salt, and wished to share it liberally. A little too liberally for us. Thus, giving up on eating for the night, we fell exhausted into bed.

Try sleeping in a tent with a constant gale blowing.

Constant.

As in all the bleeding time.

Morning finally arrived and our guide awaited us. It was still dark. Good old Ian enjoyed dragging us out of bed at some unearthly hour. With good reason. 

There simply was no view. There was cloud, a.k.a. fog.

The roads down into the crater are few. One goes down only (no way of passing) one ascends only, and one other where both directions are possible. The sides are so steep that there are no giraffes in the crater as they cannot get down. Why they don't just take the roads I've no idea.

This photo shows the descent road, but was taken early evening when the cloud had lifted. Somewhat.

It wasn't long before we ducked under the clouds, and saw the crater as a whole. (Ahem, hole...).

From here, the crater looked empty. The perpective fooled us. Even an entire herd of elephants would be invisible at these distances.

On finally arriving at its bottom, the crater started to give up its wildlife to us.

We drank in our fill that day. Enough to give me well over a thousand photos. 

Ostriches aplenty, some dancing (yes, really) some simply regarding us with an air of derangement. Hippos sleeping, rolling and belching. Lions sleeping and occasionally deigning to move. Buffaloes with birds in both ears. Zebras, flamingoes, all manner of timorous beasties. Even Jackals and Hydes...

Click here for all the photos if you dare.

After a long and wonderful day, we returned for our salty evening meal and our windy night. The champagne came in very handy.

We had returned a little earlier than normal, to allow us to catch the view.

The next morning we were smuggled out in yet another pea-souper. A short trip to a local airport, (technically an air-strip) where we caught a small plane to take us to the Serengeti, the ultimate wildlife paradise.

Things just get better and better....