On the Seventh Day
The Previous Chapter 'Interlude' here.
We woke (early) to our seventh day. We had been here, in the depths of Africa, immersed in the Wild, for but one week. It seemed so much more yet somehow so much less. We had, by now, totally lost ourselves in nature.
Time for a coffee...
Yet another stunning sunrise lighting a crescent moon.
And the sleeping savanna:
After another early start, a habit that will take weeks to break, we very soon came across this pride of lions on the move.
There were many of them, adults and adolescents.
Every one a killer.
They spread out around our lone, helpless truck.
They passed us by on both sides, sometimes stopping and staring at us with a certain disquieting look, then went on their way, leaving us privileged to witness them, still alive, and still awaiting the wake up call from the coffee.
We were not to be their breakfast that day.
We then arrived, yes, once more, at that centre of our new universe, the Mara. On arrival, a Goliath Heron seemed disturbed.
No wonder, another crossing was about to start. I think we had now won a world record medal in sightings of the Mara Crossing.
This herd involved a lot of zebras migrating alongside the wildebeest.
Their hooves are less than ideal for paddling in rivers and clambering over slippery rocks, making them slip and splash about a lot, possibly scaring the hell out of any nearby crocs.
They seem to be much more collaborative than their wildebeest friends...
...who were busy proving the point by leaping about like idiots.
Probably because they are idiots.
These beasts were understandably jumpy.
And here was why: Next to them swam a huge croc with one of their comrades already held in tightly clamped jaws.
This particular crossing is exceptionally difficult, very rocky, very dangerous, very tiring.
Despite this, before long, most had successfully crossed this dangerous divide.
But some of them had been left behind.
Not all made it through alive. Several were too exhausted to move further. Some had injuries. Some...
...Some would provide the local peak predator with enough food to last for the next twelve months.
You may feel that you don't require all these details, but...
...they tend to hang around their conquest, underwater, for several days, until they are well 'hung' and kinda melt in your mouth.
Even some of those that successfully crossed and escaped, were broken. Some could move no further. This calf was totally exhausted and stood there as the zebra narrowly passed by, just avoiding pounding it into the dirt.
The last gnu standing this time was standing in the wrong place.
As always, an audience of vultures was drawn in from far and wide.
Happy days...
We had seen enough death and destruction to last us for, well, at least a little while. We were now to head well away from the well-trodden path, hoping to see something new. Such as, something alive...
We were keen to see rhinos, but I guess giraffes trotting by would have to do. For such ungainly creatures it is amazing how fluid they move at full gallop.
The region we now visited had few tourists. We soon learned why not. Not only was it far from most camps, it was also devoid of great numbers of wildlife except for... tsetse flies.
These are seriously irritating little critters. For Ian and I they were just that; irritating. They hurt, but that was it. For Annick, it was worse. They seemed attracted to her. They bit her more than they bit us.
And she reacted. Not just by shouting "Shit" at the top of her voice, but by a noticeable allergic reaction. Her back was, for some reason only known to tsetse flies, a major target, and soon resembled a map of the moon, with craters in full relief.
Despite the lack of any rhinos or painted wolves, we continued to see life that attracted the attention of my camera.
Monitor lizards; stay well clear of their tail...
Some bird life...
That last one had an Eland attached to it...
While driving through the savannah, spotting animals intent on not being spotted is an incredible skill. Here is an example:
On driving through the bush at random, Ian would cry "Leopard!" We would say "Where?" He would say "In that tree", We would say "What tree?"...
Here's a close up of what he could see. I'm still not certain what it is. We need to get closer.
Ian did his usual thing of driving right up to it...
It decided it come and see if we were edible...
It's at times like this you realise that peeing behind a tree is not always a good idea...
Trees in the Serengeti can hide all sorts of weird things.
Even baby vultures...
Although buffalos tended to stick to the lower branches.
Here, on the distant riverbed of a sand river, lions could be seen playing.
And just like all teenagers, their games sometimes got a little rough.
You can blame it on the hormones.
Such is young love.
You may get the impression from these meanderings, that Leopards are ten a penny in the Serengeti. This is absolutely not the case. For many years I would have given my eye-teeth for a sighting.
This safari has allowed me to keep my teeth. Yup, here's another leopard spotted just as day was ending.
Leopard. Spotted. The old jokes...
Mind you, keeping my teeth didn't seem such a good idea this holiday. The long flight from Europe managed to set off some long suppressed aches and pains in my old ivories. Spotting leopards was infinitely easier than spotting dentists out here in the Wild. I understand that it is the same in the UK.
Long live paracetamol...
These guys were relaxing...
...and it was time for us to do the same.
It was to be our last night in a tent, albeit a luxurious one. The next day we were to move to a higher grade of luxury for our last three nights. Not that we would see much of it, as we would continue our early to late routine. We were there to see the Wild, not to enjoy ourselves...
On returning to our tent after our meal that evening, we set about getting our bags ready for the next day's move to Lamai camp. Everything had its place in our tightly packed bags. Our precious bags. Our four bags. Our soon to be three bags...
We settled down to slumber for the night. Or tried to. The normal Serengeti sounds of lions copulating were overridden by a family group in another tent. Not that they were copulating or anything. I think. Well, whatever it was they were doing, they were making a lot of noise about it.
They talked loudly into the night. All night. And were up very early (before us!) to catch a hot-air balloon. Whilst preparing themselves they... talked loudly, walking past our tent talking, repeatedly, ... loudly.
One of the reasons for all this chatter was due to their need of servants. At midnight, one of them decided to go to the toilet. The toilet, you must understand, is only about two meters from the bed, within the same tent space. They actually called over the emergency radio for help to get them that enormous distance.
The struggles of surviving in the Wild.
We looked forward to having our own isolated room in the next camp, free from troubles.
Shame really...
Next Chapter, 'Out of the Frying Pan'
No comments:
Post a Comment