Last year I went to Africa on holidays and I swore I’d return. I just did. It was perhaps more magical this time than last. Perhaps next year will be even more special. I’m not sure it could be. The one thing I’m sure about though, is that Africa will call me every year and every year my soul will be touched by this remarkable place.
I’m not sure where my love of Africa stems from. Perhaps a childhood spent growing up on an outback station in Australia, days spent in the bush amongst the animals and the people. The Australian bush speaks to the soul in much the same way Africa settles into your heart and you never want to leave.
On a recent safari through Tanzania, I was reminded that in this current age we instagram photographs from our travels. And let’s face it, when you load a picture of a leopards face it’s pretty awe inspiring stuff. A picture speaks a thousand words!!
But it doesn’t really touch the sides of the African experience in any way , shape or form. Let me give you an example.
We were out on a game drive several days ago with our guide Kim. It was early morning and there was a chill in the air. We were driving on an open plain on the Serengeti, following a low lying creek bed as it meandered across the grass covered plane.
We spotted two leopards in the long grass, a male and female. They were about ten meters away from our truck and watching us closely.
Our guide Kim grew up in Tanzania. His mother is a Masai.
He reached his left arm out and settled it very firmly on my shoulder to still my movements. He knew immediately we were in danger. We had inadvertently interrupted a mating pair. The leopards were skittish and irritable. Particularly the male.
I lifted my camera and quietly zoomed my lens in on the leopard’s face. It was equally breath taking and terrifying. His eyes were green and wide open. Staring straight into my soul. His nose wrinkled just a little, and a low gutteral snarl erupted from his body. I felt it deep inside my chest. It was a very clear message. A warning. We were in his comfort zone. And he was unhappy.
Suddenly he leapt towards our truck . So quickly I barely saw him coming. He growled with such ferocity and charged at the car. Kim didn’t move. His huge hand pushed hard against my shoulder, pinning me to the seat. ‘Don’t move’ he said.
The leopard was coming at us. My heart was racing. I couldn’t breathe. The snarling and growling was absolutely terrifying. I knew we were in mortal danger. He was about two metres away and in full fight mode.
At what felt like the last second he pivoted sideways and disappeared into the long grass. I could barely breathe. Kim looked at me and laughed softly. ‘Are you ok?’ Just to clarify, I am a chicken!! I don’t do brave very well at all. This was as scary as it gets.
Kim assured me that we were in no danger. That this was a ‘mock charge’ designed to elicit fear and make me flee!! Goal achieved!! Leopard one : me zero!
Unfortunately he then told me that if it had been a real charge intended to harm it would have been dead silent. I would have never seen him coming!
So you’re probably now thinking, ‘ good lord, Africa is terrifying’. But it’s not at all true.
Africa is an assault on the senses in every way. The air feels clean and crisp. The bush speaks to you. From the sounds of the many and varied birds with their melodic and quirky tunes, to the unusual grunting which oddly comes from the beautiful impala but sounds like it should emanate from a terrifying warthog in close proximity, to the strange ‘huffing’ noises made by the hippos as they wallow under water to protect themselves from the beating sun.
The skies are huge overhead and the sunrises and sunsets are breathtaking. The stars go on forever, and the light in the late afternoon washes the land in a golden glow. It’s breath taking in its beauty.
I often think of Banjo Patterson’s words;
‘ the bush has friends to meet him and their kindly voices greet him. The murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars. He sees the visions splendid of the sunlit plains extended and at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars.’
This was of course written about outback Australia but rings true to every word in the African bush.