Into the Fire
Previous Chapter 'Out of the Frying Pan' here.
It took a while to sink in. My backpack, my precious backpack, was missing. Along with all my underwear.
Did we put it in the van? Yes.
Did we put it in the back of the van? Yes.
Was is mysteriously hiding under the seats? No (despite me checking at least three or four times).
Was it important to me? Yes. My precious...
It all became clear. We knew that it was put in the van and that now it wasn't there. That only gave two possible solutions. One: The backpack had developed sentience, superpowers and had teleported of its own volition or... Two: when the window fell open, the backpack, casually leaning against it watching the savannah pass by, fell out.
I voted for teleportation.
So, here we were, a million miles from civilisation, and my backpack had fallen out of the jeep into deep grass somewhere between buffalos and leopards. Somewhere in the vast expanse of the Serengeti that's very name means 'the endless plain'.
OK. So. The chances of finding it are virtually zero.
So what was in it?
My clothes. Socks, t-shirts, underwear.... Ok, not life-threatening. Unless you tried eating it.
My medication. Ooooh. This was a tricky one. Looks like my prostrate may 'rear' up and engulf me...
What else?
The backpack itself. My favourite and a precious thing...
My car keys.
Oh. That could prove to be a problem. Nah, I'd packed a spare set in my camera bag. Ain't I a genius?
All my photos on SD cards. Ah, well, most had been backed-up onto my laptop which I still had. But not all. That was indeed a dire loss.
My toilet bag. Ouch, that contained almost everything except, bizarrely, a toilet.
Adapters and charging cables. Groan.
My spare glasses. Well, at least they were spare.
Anything else?
Well yes. My headphones. Very important for me onboard the longhaul flights. It helped stop my tinnitus from engulfing my brain in screeching madness turning it to the consistency of a blancmange.
At this point my beloved wife pointed out to her imbecile of a husband that these particular headphones had an overly incestuous relationship with my phone.
I looked to my phone: "Find my headphones"...
Who would have Adam and Eve'd it? In somewhere as totally remote as the middle of the enormous continent of Africa, a continent bigger than, well, a very very big thing, Apple could tell me where my backpack was.
Incredible, but true. There it was, neatly marked on a (featureless) map with gps coordinates and all.
We headed back towards the last known point of ping. This was not nearby, it was not far from where we saw the leopard hours before, where the window had swung open during a particularly bumpy bit of off-road.
But it was no longer there. It was on the move. By the time we had got to the loss site, the bag had moved all the way to the other side of the Mara! It appears that my backpack was watching a crossing. Clever little blighter.
Someone had (obviously) found it and, long story short, we eventually found them. As we pulled alongside their truck, my phone when crazy and so did I. I retrieved my backpack with absolutely everything intact, un-pilfered, untrodden, uneaten. And I gave it a huge hug. The group that had fortuitously found it were French, which Annick felt very appropriate. I was just very grateful.
I would make sure that I never lost it again.
Rash promises...
---
Much of the day had been lost in the hunt for my backpack. In what was left of the day we stopped to watch yet another crossing.
This time, just a harmless sand river. I guess that the wildebeest must cross a lot of these before getting to the Mara. They probably 'think' that the Mara is just another sand river based on their life experiences. They really should watch more TV.
Whilst watching this uneventful crossing, a lilac-breasted roller was keeping us amused.
Every few minutes it would fly off and return to the same spot with a mouthful of flying stingy things.
It kindly framed itself in front of passing zebra.
The day was wearing on and we were wearing out. This didn't stop Ian from finding us yet another leopard. Yawn.
This one was doing absolutely nothing.
This was how I felt.
As the sun started to set, we were winging it to our new camp...
...stopping by a den full of hyenas.
These are widely accepted as being ugly unpleasant creatures, the dregs of animal life. But wait! Look at these!
Aren't they cute? What happened to all those preconceptions?
Ok, so this one was making an attempt at conforming...
...copying an adults pose.
Just a little further we came across another sleeping beauty. How on earth can anything sleep with a face-full of flies like this?
The sun finally - hang on! Isn't that another...
Good grief, it was!
Yet another leopard had chosen the ideal spot for a sundown photo.
And there it is, sitting on a large branch watching the migration go past.
This appeared to give him an idea...
And so this eventful day finally ended. Erm... No.
We arrived at Lamai at our usual hour of after dark. This is us slumming it.
One entire side of this large cabin was a huge window secured by fine sturdy netting to stop those pesky bats and baboons.
The other side of this window is an open terrace with views out over the savannah. Each of these cabins are perched on the side of a hill thus giving amazing views. Well, they would be amazing if there was any light. At night here it is just dark. With added stars.
Except...
In the distance, a glowing red-hot line. With smoke. This was another bush fire. In the distance.
A little later we realised that the distance was decreasing.
This fire was heading in our direction!
Lamai had a lot of wooden construction, surrounded by bushes and trees in a state of terminal dryness.
It kept coming towards us.
It was now at the bottom of the hill. The fire would spread quickly here.
There was much clamour from below. There was shouting and screaming. There was what looked like an army of people desperately trying to put out the fire by whacking it with blankets.
We had no escape. We had found ourselves once more in danger. Once more helpless. Once more it was impossible to sleep.
Once more, in total exhaustion, sleep overcame us...
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