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Candles, Crocs and Customised Showers
After
our farewell drinks of the night before, it was lovely to lie in
that morning, enjoying the sounds of the birds and monkeys in the
trees outside. After a final breakfast, we said goodbye to Keennan,
James and Catherine and headed off with Andy to drive to Kuyenda.
The now usual herds of zebra, impala and puku lined our way and for
the first time we saw a large family of kudu twitching their
satellite-dish ears in alarm at our approach. We stopped for drinks
and snacks by the river and watched a heaving mass of hippos yawning
and squabbling below us. And after another short drive, the thatched
rondavels of Kuyenda were before us with Babette enthusiastically
waving as we drove into camp.
Andy introduced us all
to Babette, a warm and elegant American and then to Phil Berry, the
very epitome of an English country gent. minus the tweeds. Without
further ado, Babette produced the inevitable facecloths and cold
drinks and then whisked us off to our new chalets. Kuyenda is the
most traditional of the four Bushcamps with paraffin lamps and
candles instead of electricity. And, although the loos flush and the
taps in the sink never fail to gush forth when required, a shower
needs to be pre-ordered to give Davey, the waterboy, time to get the
water heated to the requested temperature. And yet, this in itself
is a kind of luxury - rather reminiscent of getting your bath drawn
by an eighteenth-century maid in a Jane Austen novel! Since Davey is
adept at producing exactly the temperature you ask for (hot, tepid,
medium - he got it right every time!), a few minutes wait seem well
spent to me.
That evening Phil took
us on a drive to see the local lion pride as he thought it was
likely that they would be hunting that evening - clearly Phil is a
bit of a Dr. Doolittle in his spare time because he was spot on! We
drew up to a herd of bushbuck, Phil suddenly slammed on the brakes.
"There" he said, pointing into the undergrowth. "And
there too, look". I looked but couldn't see a thing, and then,
completely out of nowhere, two lionesses came hurtling out into view
towards us and the herd. One of them made an almighty leap and raked
her claws across the rump of one of the antelope which tried to race
round and rejoin the herd but the other lioness headed it back into
the jaws of the first which were ready and waiting. The buck
struggled but the lioness had a firm grip on its throat and by the
time the other hunter joined in, it was thank you and goodnight for
the poor bushbuck. Wow!
No Attenborough
documentary can possibly prepare you for the speed and power of
these animals but even so, I found myself wishing we could have
watched an action replay as the rest of the pride, led by a
magnificently-maned male, strolled across for supper. Phil edged the
vehicle closer until we were within a few metres of the animals and
the sounds of crunching and slurping filled the air. Suddenly
another noise disturbed us and, to everyone's surprise, including
the lions, an enormous crocodile emerged open-mouthed from the
undergrowth and waddled his way towards the kill. You'd think a pack
of lions could deal with one croc, but this one was a monster and
after several minutes hissing and snapping the lions reluctantly let
him take a share and retire to the bush in peace. Even Phil was
surprised at watching this encounter - the nearest water is several
kilometres away so heaven only knows where the croc had come from in
order to steal his supper!
By this time we were
all feeling hungry ourselves so we left the lions to their meal and
headed back for our own. Tomorrow we were to go on an all-day picnic
in search of wild dogs - one of the rarest creatures in the valley,
but Phil knew where their den was hidden and promised to take us to
have a look. So, having pre-booked our shower-water and carrying a
lamp, we headed for the comforts of our chalets and a dreamless
sleep.
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