A Typical Day on Safari
Southern Africa
July 2001
I spent the month of July in Southern Africa on safari. We
traveled through South Africa, Botswana, Namibia and Zimbabwe. There were 20 of
us, 15 from Europe, four from Australia and me, the lone American. Matt served
as our guide and driver and Lucas was the cook. We had a beat up old truck and
camping gear. We traveled over 3000 miles and at the end of the month that was
still not enough for me. I wanted to see more.
The rhythm of our days were pretty similar. I was never sure
when the day started because I didn’t have a watch and that made it difficult
to determine when I should get up. I usually woke up sometime during the night
but never knew it was 2 AM for 6 AM. That may not seem like a problem for
others but it was for me. I always had
to go to the bathroom and my decisions were different depending on what time of
night was. Urgency also plays a factor as well. And the fact that the bathroom
was never convenient just added to the stress of the situation. If It was 6 AM,
I will try to hold it till 630 when I had to get up but 2 AM posed other
problems, other decisions.
Each morning I would hear the “zip” of someone’s tent zipper
and then I would say a little prayer that this was just somebody else what to
get up to relieve themselves. If I heard just one zipper I made a huge effort
to sleep as quickly as possible because I knew my time to sleep was limited.
However, if I heard multiple zips, I rolled over and
complained to myself. The night had flown by too, too quickly once again.
Frantz was one of the early risers. He always called to Eva, his wife. She
would respond in German. Then I would hear the cook rattle some pots and pans.
And I would be filled with morning dread. Everyone was up and starting their
day. Then I would hear it. Someone would be outside my tent and ask the others,
“did anybody wake Bridget yet?” That was going to be my first and only wake up
call for the morning. So I had no other choice but to surrender to the harsh
realities of the day and face the dark chilly morning.
This is the first trip I’ve taken that I really have to pay
attention to my eyeglasses. So the first thing I did was feel around for my
flashlight and then find my glasses. Every day I can’t find them right away and
that sends me into a mild panic. I did eventually find them but after I ripped
apart everything in its path.
Then I had to find my shoes and of course I had never had
the energy to tie my shoelaces. So I wore them as slippers. I never had them on correctly so I stumbled
over everything in my way in the tent. And it appeared to me as of the bottom
of my tent door rose just a little bit each and every day and I tripped on my
way out every morning.
Once all my junk was assembled and jammed into my ripped
duffel bag, I threw everything outside the tent. I would then complain about
having to disassemble my tent once again. I hated doing this. If I could’ve
found some someone to take care of my tent, I think I would’ve been a happier
camper. Breaking in the tent down wasn’t really a problem. Trying to stuff that
damn tent back in its sack always proved to be a challenge. Everyone else’s
tent seemed so nice and neat. I always had something protruding from the top. Matt
frequently made fun of my efforts. But so what. I don’t really care.
Breakfast was nondescript but hurried. Because I was the
last one up, I was always coming to breakfast at the tail end. By the time I
got there, other were cleaning up so I had a quick cup of lukewarm tea and some
sort of stale biscuits. While I was drinking my tea I attempted to help load up
the camp equipment and then we were off.
Once the trunk was packed, we were on the road. We left the
campsite by 7 AM when the sun was just beginning to emerge. And some places the
stars still illuminated the skies as we took off. Most mornings a fiery sunrise
entertained us as we settled into our morning drive.
At 7:30 AM I was wearing my blouse, my windbreaker, two
fleece jackets, a neck gaiter, hood, gloves and some days, my blanket. By 10, I
took the neck gaiter and top jacket off. By noon the second jacket came off and
found its way somewhere on the floor of our filthy dirty truck. in the early afternoon the windbreaker came
off. By four the windbreaker was back on. Around six the sun would begin to go
down and the first fleece jacket came back on. By seven the other jacket was on.
I was wearing the gloves and the neck gator. My wardrobe didn’t change much
this month.
Midmorning we stopped somewhere and watched something of
great amazement.
We saw prehistoric
trees or 600-year-old plants or cave drawings or birds or packs of wild
animals. We would stop and take photos and move around the truck so everyone
had the opportunity to get a good view.
We stood in silence as we watched a herd of lions eat a zebra. We
stretched our necks to see the minute bird off in the distant tree. We tried to
count the hundreds of impalas running pass our truck. We looked everything up
in the guide books I purchased along the way.
We recorded everything we saw and everything we saw filled us with joy.
Lunch was around 1 PM. If we are on the road, Matt just
pulled over to some nondescript place and open the side of truck and Lucas made
lunch. Our menu was the same everyday: lunch meat, cabbage salad, stale bread
and tomatoes. One day I heard Erica describer our lunch menu to some other
travelers and the way she described it you would’ve thought we were eating from
a high end restaurant. Nothing she said was incorrect or embellished but she
spoke with so much enthusiasm and loyalty for travel company that I had to
stand back and think if we were on the same trip. The food wasn’t good but it
wasn’t bad either. That didn’t matter
to me. I didn’t care about the food. I was just glad to be in Africa. But I
didn’t think I’d ever talk about our food with enthusiasm. I had a moment of
respect for Erica. Her enthusiasm was refresh.
We would get back on the truck and we would be off
again. But now it was time for a little
snooze. I’d sleep until it was just too
bothersome to fight off the constant jarring sensation of my head falling off
my makeshift head rest.
We would stop again in the afternoon and again see something
magnificent.
We were always in search of
the big five: lions, elephants, rhino, leopard, and cape buffalo. We saw at
least one of them each day. And no matter how many lions we saw, each one was a
bonus.
We got to a camp site by five and set up our site. Once my
tent was up, I liked to take a little nap to celebrate my efforts to get the
damn tent up correctly.
Dinner was sometime after six. Matt cooked everything over
an open fire and charred everything. At first I attempted to get my meat less charred,
then I reconsidered, as I did not want to get food poisoning.
Before and after dinner we would all huddle together around
the fire telling stories. We would recap the day and we will try to get Matt to
tell us what to expect for the next day. Those of us who were native English
speakers told more stories than the others. The quieter members of the group
just listened and then encouraged us to keep talking.
Jill and Warren loved to entertain us. Sometimes they would
sing. Sometimes they would bring out Erica’s guitar and they broke a string
every time they played it. Sometimes they had us playing charades. Sometimes they
would insist we share others whiskeys or wine. Whatever we did, we enjoyed each
other’s company.
Around 9:30 the group would begin to disburse. Some went to
their tents. If there was a bar at the campsite, some wandered over there.
Others use this time to catch up on their journal writing. Others ran to the
shower in hopes of finding warm water. By 11 o’clock all was quiet.
Once my lights went out, I’d love to lay in my sleeping bag
and just listen. Our tent area sounded like the United Nations. When everyone
retired to their tents, they returned to using their native language. I would
hear all sorts of undistinguished sounds from the Germans and the Italians, the
Danish and the French. Jenna and Christina would talk loudly and laugh
heartily.
I always wondered what they
discussed. Lucas would talk Afrikaans to his fellow cooks. They would make a
clicking sound with their tongues.
I
tried to make that sound but I could never master it.
Sometimes I couldn’t distinguish one language
from the other.
Animal sounds entertained me each night. Each sound seemed
as if the animal was walking right outside my tent, just waiting to make me
it’s next meal. Hippos could be heard many nights. And during the course of our
trip we heard donkeys, baboons, monkeys, warthogs, dogs, hyenas and jackals. One night an elephant wandering around our
site. I didn’t want to tangle with any of these animals. I tried to fall asleep in spite of my fears of
all of this commotion going on outside.
I had to get to sleep. The mornings came too early for my taste.
