Lions in Camp last night

Had a very interesting and eventful night last night.

Sleepless in Moremi
(A Canadian’s unembellished perspective on lions in camp)

Last night some lions paid a visit to my tent. As I write this and try to narrate my version of the story my heart rate is increasing.

Before we all meandered off to bed we had heard some impala barking very close to camp warning of predators. Specifically behind Jason’s tent. Shortly thereafter lions calling. Everyone in camp seemed quite chilled about it all, even finding it exciting. We had not left the lions all that far away yesterday, and they were heading in this direction so it wasn’t really a surprise that they had indeed arrived. On our way back to camp I had asked Graham if he thought they would come through camp. He informed me that they have a usual path that may bring them just behind camp, likely where we had the magnificent performance of their roaring previously. And it was magnificent; though close it was at a comfortable distance and I was looking forward to the opera.

Last night, as I lay in bed slowing dozing off to the universal sound of the night insects I was startled alert by the distinct sound of a male lions heavy feet crunching the dry grass right beside my tent. Trying not to move I peered out the corner of my eye to see it’s pronounced silhouette through the screen brushing up against the tent as he walked past. All the while a pounding in my chest that I have absolutely no doubt in my mind could be heard by the lions. I lay motionless, stiff as a board with my neck slightly raised causing a painful kink that was easily overshadowed by my fear. I could hear the lions all around the tent. Could literally hear them breathing and rustling in the grass. Increased muscle tension, sweaty palms, an increased heart rate and with the force of each beat I am thinking this must be the fight or flight reaction. My entire body responding to my fear I am sure I was shaking, and yes I was also certain that the lions could feel the vibrations in the ground and come sniff with curiosity. A million thoughts raced through my head. “This is fine, the tent is a barrier, people have been camping in the bush in tents on safari for years and no one gets killed. If it is your time, it is your time. The tent is a barrier. The tent is a barrier....the tent is a barrier” I find myself repeating this in my head and decide this will be my new mantra.

Suddenly I hear the exclusive roar of a male lion. It actually sounded a comfortable distance away and I felt my body relax and much to my relief my neck sink into the pillow in a more relaxed state. I decided I could now enjoy this magnificent sound. Even hoped the rest of the pride would join in. But the roaring got louder, and louder still. The ground actually vibrated beneath me, as did my entire existence. He was right outside my tent. Body stiff, my heart was now about to shot out of my chest, of this I was certain.

The roar eventually faded back to a comfortable distance. He was on the move.

Lying motionless and awake for hours, I must have eventually fallen asleep. I am sure it was only one hour later that the alarm went off. I looked around to make sure I wasn’t in another form of being. I was alive.

You will read from Andy’s and Grahams post that parts of the camp unfortunately didn’t have the same fortune. And that they, being seasoned in the bush, found it quite exhilarating.

Beautiful bull - Grahams version

I must step in here after reading Penny’s version of this particular evening. It is my duty to set the record straight. Here is the real version.

Making our way back to camp one evening we came across this big old bull elephant. These bulls are generally very relaxed so I pulled ahead of him and got down on the ground to take some low angle shots as he walked past. He stood above me, peering down at me briefly before continuing past the front of the vehicle.

From behind me, all I could hear was Penny’s constant stream sotto whispered curses. ^%$@ SAKES Graham why do you have to do this?! It’s not funny anymore! Get back in the truck! ^*%*^*!!! etc etc etc. I’ve learnt to tune this out most of the time as she thinks that I actively try to terrify her with wild life encounters as my only source of amusement. She does not trust me one iota.

The ele moving on, I slipped back into the truck, Penny’s ashen face glaring at me. The ele moved on past Penny’s side and, probably smelling the orange peels on the dash turned to investigate.

Penny thinks that if she doesn’t look at the animals, they can’t see her. It’s very amusing. I grabbed my wide angle lens and started snapping some shots. (The wide angle lens makes him look a lot further away than he was. He was very close to her I will admit, within a couple of meters)


Penny stared resolutely ahead. “Smile Penny.” Deaths head grimace. “Smile, enjoy it.” Something vaguely more photogenic but no more genuine. “OK just watch the ele.”

Beautiful bull

On our way back to camp one evening we came across a huge old bull elephant. The old bulls are often found wandering on their own. Once they reach adolescence they move out of the breeding herds and form bachelor herds. However these are quite loosely structured they will stick together, move off and as this one is on their own. The older bulls tend to form a sort of mentorship with the younger ones and as their senses fade will use the younger bulls to navigate and pick up on signs of danger.

Anyway, we stopped to take some pictures with the sunset as a beautiful backdrop Having left some orange peels on the dash of the truck this big old bull seemed to pick up the scent and moved closer and yet still closer to the vehicle making it’s way to my side of the car where the orange peels were, directly in front of me. It is hard to tell in this picture but he was close. I could have reached out and touched his trunk when he lifted it up to sniff almost inside the vehicle. My heart raced as he did so, but the thrill was exhilarating. To be so close to an elephant was unreal. And I have never felt quite so small in my life. I imagine what a cat must feel like next to a large dog...a mouse next to a cat...and so on. Being back in the bush is wonderful. This kind of heart pounding rush in the city would only come from a close call at an intersection......

Happy Birthday Jacqueline

Back in the bush

I never thought I would say this but I was happy to be in Maun. It’s laid back casual character was quickly embraced. Even when it took forever to get our bags off the plane it only made me smile. I like Botswana as a country. It’s well run. One of the best run countries in Africa.

As I mentioned, I don’t think I was ready to be back in a city. It was loud, the sounds rang unpleasantly in my now sensitive ears... I couldn’t wait to get back to the bush. Indeed I wasn’t ready to leave it when I did. In fact I would probably be happy to stay in it forever. The city is no longer for me, and likely never was, part of the reason why I never quite felt settled in myself I suppose. Living an out door life is glorious. While in the “cities” we spent a lot of time inside. I missed the fresh air and consequently felt quite tired and restless while there, not to mention my nightly lullaby of insects and hippo’s wasn’t there to rock me to sleep.

We spent a night in Maun, did the camp shop and made our way “home”. As soon as we crossed the buffalo fence, my shoulders dropped, I took a deep breath in and let out a sigh and quietly slid back into the serenity of my surroundings. The very surroundings that has had such a profound effect on me alleviating some of the pain and helping me deal with the death of my father. Its vastness allowing me the time and freedom to do so, to remember, reflect and accept. In retrospect I can’t imagine having had to do so any other way.

As I sit here and write this I am sitting in the vehicle next to a Jesses pond, we are waiting and hoping a herd of elephant pass through. The wind is gently blowing, the only sound is the rustle of the trees as the breeze passes across their tops and makes its way through the dry grass to travel across my skin. (ok the other sound is Graham snoring on top of the car) I pause only to stop the sound of my fingers on the keyboard and listen. The near silence leaves my ears tingling. I feel my father in the breeze that gently touches my skin and I am comforted by the feeling of him here with me in the wind that blows and the sun that shines. I am certain he is here with me.

While we were away the 6 month mark passed. The time “since” is one thing I am having the hardest time dealing with. I don’t want the time “since” to lengthen. It seems the longer it’s been the fear of the memory being further in the distance rattles me.

I digress, once again en-route to camp we see impala, giraffe and elephants. All so gratifying. The bush has changed quite a bit since we’ve been gone. The landscape has thinned out, giving a more transparent view of the horizon. The grass has changed color to a beautiful array of burgundy, light green and brown. Because everything is so dry now, when the wind blows the grass it makes a rustling sound that wasn’t there before. Though this rustling can easily be mistaken for an animal in the bush precipitating me to look twice a couple of times.

Winter is also setting in and the sun isn’t as hot. There is a chill that rolls in around 5pm that wasn’t there before we left. The late nights and early mornings are quite cool. To everyone in camp it is “freezing”. To this Canadian, it is cool, maybe cold. But freezing it is not. Our first day out on monday we were in coats and hats to keep warm. The open vehicle adds a wind chill to the air.


By 10am the layers are off and it’s a hot wonderful sunny day. Tank tops and shorts. The contrast in temperature in such a short amount of time I suppose makes the “cold” feel colder than it is. I quite like it. Sleeping is comfortable. I get to feel my cheeks cold and rosy as I might on a winter day at home and every day I get summer. A Canadians dream! It is with this that I realize it is June and at home everyone is excited for summer, I am sure there is that buzz in the air that comes with “patio” season. I realize I am missing the first patio drinks with the girls. That first warm night of the season when you get that email at work that says “perfect night to sit on a patio and have a glass of wine” and you sneak out of the office early to do so. It is what we Canadians wait all winter for. At home I probably didn’t realize just the impact “patio season” had on me, the refection on it reminds me that it is a HUGE deal. Cottages are being opened, boats put back in the water. Cherry beach is alive with people and dogs. Concert listings published. My grandfather has probably already been fishing, and I know Granny and Grandpa and Dan have been golfing already. With this musing I am missing you all very much and wish everyone a happy and safe summer. As one would say on the last day of school!


On our first day out I took in the beautiful sunrise that I missed so much. Watching the sun peep it’s smile over the horizon every morning and I have fulfilled one of my goals. To see more sunrises. With winter here, the mornings have an added sense of mystic charm and a light mist settles in over the pans waiting for the sun to burn it off. As in the sunset the dust stirred during the days leaves a coating on the tips of the grass and all over us.


While we were away “our” lions did very little. I am starting to come to the conclusion that lions are not the smartest kings. At least ours aren’t. Evidently they spent a lot of time following buffalo, coming within meters of them (smart) killing none (not so smart) and getting quite thin and hungry (boarding stupid). However I was excited to see them. We found them quickly that day, and also spent time with a herd of Elephants. For the first time in my life I couldn’t wait to be back to “work” and instead of the post vacation blues I was more than happy to be back.

Beautiful Ugly

First I will apologize for the lack of writing as of late. I realize it’s been forever since I have written.

As some of you are aware I went on leave to South Africa for 14 days. Every 5 weeks Earth-Touch will fly us out. To keep us sane I suppose. Anyway, I wasn’t in South Africa for more than a day when our rental car was broken into and my computer bag stolen. In it, my lap top, personal hand written journal, and reading glasses. Needless to say I was devastated, every picture I had taken since my arrival in Africa was on that computer as well as the last pics I had of my father and some poems I had finally sat down to write having not done so in more than 10 years (though because of this time lapse I am sure they weren’t that good ;-) On my list of things to do in South Africa was to buy a hard drive to back up my photo’s and all the rest..... as murphy would have it I suppose. Since then I have had very little motivation to write. My personal journal was the real kick in the ass bought in Florence Italy in 2001, it was 7 years of hand writing, leading up to and including every raw thought, feeling and emotion I had about my father and dealing with his death.

As it turns out this is common. Every single person I spoke to has been impacted by the crime in South Africa in some way or another. It was so unusual to see and hear such complacency, shoulders shrugged as it is just a way of life here, “it’s Africa”. And frankly having a lap top stolen out of a vehicle was nothing compared to the severity and brutalness of most of the crimes committed. Evidently I was lucky.

It wasn’t until I got an email from my Aunt Sharon, my fathers sister, and encouragement from my Aunt Risa and Uncle Dan and Donna, to keep writing. They reminded me of the reason why I have chosen to come here on this adventure. The new found “simple life” and to “let it go” and to move on past it and continue to live my wonderful experiences here in beautiful Africa and live in the now, to quote Aunt Sharon “While the past is always with us and shapes our responses to the now, it should be a quiet comfort, with today's encounters in the forefront”. They all reminded me that our memories live on forever in our minds and our hearts.

I also want to thank Mandi for her offer to send her old Mac, so sweet! and Donna and my Uncle Dan for offering to send lap tops that they were not using to me! I unleashed the well known “Penny pit bull” on the establishment where we were parked in security parking less than 100 meters from the door and the guards where they claim to have the safest parking. This would be Gateway mall in Durban. They are putting it through their insurance and we hope to have it all covered soon. Fingers crossed.

Where the title of my entry “beautiful ugly” comes from is this: There is so much positivity and hope in South Africa's people, such beauty and kindness in all the people I met, success and prosperity seemed everywhere, so much to smile about in it’s esthetic beauty. It’s a land so culturally diverse, with such histories and for the last one and a half decades with the energy of re-birth and discovering a new identity. With that there seems to be this attitude that yes crime is out of control, but it is something that people can adapt to, by protecting themselves in gated communities. Everything has a wall and an electric fence, houses, shops, everything. We were at Graham’s friends house in Johannesburg, he had stepped out to run an errand. Shortly after he left I thought it would be nice to go for a walk, stood up took two steps and realized I couldn’t get out. I needed the remote to open the gate, which I didn’t have and the entire house was surrounded by a high security wall. And come to think of it even if I did want to go for a walk it probably wouldn’t be safe to do so. This sort of living for me feels claustrophobic, for the south africans this is just a way of life. You simply do what you can to protect yourself.

Johannesburg is a strange conurbation of opulent suburbs, corporate headquarters, six lane highways and large shopping malls set alongside some of the countries starkest urban poverty. Perhaps the perennial crime problem is the inevitable consequence of it’s palpable polarities. Stat: South Africa has the highest murder rate in all of the world. Johannesburg was another city. I took no pictures and left only footprints.

I feel I must mention the new president of South Africa Mr. Jacob Zuma. And again the link between esthetics (beauty) and political ethics (Ugly). Where majority rules in a democratic society, in this case it is not necessarily a good thing nor does it mean that it will empower the right person. I can’t pretend to know a lot about south african politics nor will I claim that our system is any better, I mean didn’t our government get shut down because we all couldn’t play nice at one point? and I won’t even mention Bush. But this man, Mr. Zuma who has a 4th grade education, was accused of raping a friends daughter who knowingly has Aids. When asked by the people if he was afraid of getting Aids, his answer was “no I had a shower afterwards” implying showering will wash the Aids away. This is the message he is sending to a country ridden with the disease and a simple cure at his fingertips to educate his people on the disease and how to prevent it. Showering isn’t it. He was also accused of corruption in all sorts of other ways, foremost being with the “scorpions” south africans version of the FBI so to speak. The guys who are supposed to be fighting all this hellacious crime. Even though all evidence pointed brightly to his guilt, somehow, someway it all got thrown out and he will never be tried in court for these crimes. The majority voted him president and the majority ruled.

The experience of my stolen goods having somewhat set the tone for the rest of my time in South Africa, as much as I tried not to let it, it made for a different trip than I had expected. In hindsight, I might say that I wasn’t yet ready to leave the bush. I hadn’t been here that long and out of the rush of town/city life long enough to really appreciate being back in the so called comforts of urban living.

Anyway, I rant. In my time in South Africa I did experience the beauty, just as I now know the grim of it’s land.




First stop was to the Earth-Touch office, which having left the office environment for the great outdoor life it felt odd to be back in a blouse and heels to sit in a boardroom. The office is in Durban, a beautiful coastal town. Going from the dryness in the delta to the humidity in Durban was a shocking contrast as my skin soaked up the moisture in the air. It seemed like a lovely town, but we were only there for a day for the meeting at the office. I plan to go back.

Second stop: Kenton. Graham and I went to his cousins wedding in a town called Kenton, along the eastern coast. The wedding took place along the Kariega river, which I immediately felt at home standing next to. Aside from the salt water, this location strongly resembled Muskoka. It was a beautiful day for a wedding and we danced the night away. Alcohol induced style of course.

Third stop: Grahamstown. Grahams mother lives here so we stopped in to visit for a few days. A beautiful historical town. The Eastern Cape is simply beautiful, and very similar to Ireland. Not what I expected at all. The drive from Kenton to Grahamstown was breathtakingly beautiful. Rolling hills of green. Again, having little motivation to write I as well had little motivation to take pics. Rather I wanted to take it all in with memory.

Forth Stop: Cape Town. A beautiful coastal town. Very similar to Vancouver, better yet, Vancouver Island. Though the weather while we were there was more like Vancouver, rainy and windy and cold surrounded by stunning mountains, table mountain in the backdrop. Because of this I didn’t see much of the coast. We did a drive out to Simons town to see the Jackass penguins, called so because they make a sound like a donkey, though I didn’t get to witness this said sound and being as cute as they are I think a rather unfair name. The storm that rolled in while we were there was quite huge, and the paper described it as “gail force winds” making for some massive waves. I always like being next to the ocean, or water specifically. Regardless of the weather I find it calming. I would love to come back in the summer and see the sun on the sand and me in the ocean.



We walked the streets and the local market, saw some art galleries and really just chilled out. A couple of nights with Grahams friends and family on the town. It was a relaxing trip.

On my next leave I plan on seeing more of the “Africa”. Victoria Falls perhaps or more of Botswana. At the end of July I hope to take a 4 day weekend and head to Makgadikgadi (ma-kudi-kudi) salt pans. South east of Moremi, about a 4 hour drive.

Termite Mounds

They are everywhere. They come in all shapes and sizes. These grey sculpted sand mounds seem to extend out of the ground providing the only rise in an otherwise extremely flat Okavango landscape. When I scope the horizon for game, they stand out and are often the first thing I see. I have at times mistaken them for a far off Elephant or other animal. I now have a better-trained eye and can tell the difference. I believe Graham is thankful for this quick learning curve. When I first arrived, I was fascinated by these mounds. Some are huge amazing structures of architecture, others resemble abstract forms of people with branches as arms. Somewhat fancifully I will admit, they appeared to me to exist in villages of sorts, and as in all urban planning of societal class: upper class, middle class and the slums. Some exist in neighborhoods, or the suburbs, some in a lovely country setting with beautiful landscaping of cornflower vernonia and a well maintained lawn around it.  As it turns out, when I mentioned this observation I did learn that the termites actually do excavate around the mounds to feed so it appears as though someone has actually mowed it. Some seem to have flat tops that resemble a roof top patio, and others mutli-level dwellings. The way they appear at times one would wonder if they ever get together for dinner parties. Well that was my take. Graham seemed to think this theory was a little off kilter, and by the look on his face questioned my sanity a little. As it turns out, these mounds are extremely useful.  I have witnessed many animals using the mounds as a perch to see what potential prey (or predator for that matter) may lie in the horizon. Lions, leopards and cheetah, monkeys, baboons and antelope all use them as vantage points. Aside from being very useful for the local wildlife, once disused they prove very useful for us humans. They make excellent base structure for long drops, as mentioned in my camp life post, and sand boxes for the kids. They can even be used as wood-fire ovens. I was not far off on my observation that these look like tiny cities or replicate homes.  There are literally millions of termites living in one mound so they must manage their habitat to maintain temperature and moisture while protecting their huge communities from the harsh environment. Termite mounds have flues (if I may call them that), which vent through the top and sides with the mound designed to catch a breeze. As the wind blows, hot air from the below ground is drawn out of the chamber helped by the worker termites by opening or blocking tunnels to control air flow. Termites are architectural geniuses and would that humankind could learn from their ability to survive and build their homes using only renewable energy sources. If lion is the king of the bush, termite is architect of the Okavango. These seemingly random mounds and tiny insects form many of the islands that make up the Delta and play a vital role in the functioning of this ecosystem. If a new fledgling mound establishes in a floodplain and survives the first annual flood, it will eventually become an island. Silt is deposited on their margins and they grow slowly outward. Seeds germinate easily in the moist soil and once the plants start growing they are protected from grass fires due to the elevation of the mound. These plants take root and gather more silt, a process that continues indeterminably, growing the island gradually outwards. Termites are efficient decomposers.  They feed on dead plant material and return the plant nutrients to the soil through their faeces and saliva. There may be as many as 10 000 termites to a square meter of soil hence also playing a part in the diet and nutrients of other species. And so once again I have been taught a lesson here in the Delta. Once thought of as pests, or some silly fictitious village to entertain my imagination while looking for the lions, I now have a new appreciation of these brilliant critters and will admire them and respect them for the vital role they play in the intricate web of life here. 

A post for Marissa and any one else interested in a Monkeys blue balls (PG 13)

Yes it is true monkeys have blue balls. And some, as this one, like to check and make sure they are still there. This does give new meaning to the term blue balls. In this case (ahem) it is a sign of dominance. Only the dominant males (obviously males) have them. I guess in all species the males need to have some sort of way to prove their manly hood. Or it proves most of my girlfriends and my theories that men are not that far down the chain from the monkey (ape).

To clarify why this is for Marissa, she seems to like monkeys a lot. However I am uncertain as to weather she specifically likes blue balled monkeys.

I am here because....

I realize it’s been some time since I have updated here, and I apologize, we’ve been very busy in the Okavango Delta! Imagine that. We had to take an unexpected trip into Maun for yet again more vehicle repairs, we needed a new rear diff. I now have a wonderful, unintended through knowledge of how a diff operates and it’s purpose in the vehicle running smoothly. I’ve posted a rather facetious and funny (if I do say so myself) post to this effect on the Earth-touch site, click here to read it and all about Maun scrap yards I am sure you will find it very enlightening.

When in Maun we stay in a little cottage with flushing toilets (which I must point out the flush handle is on the opposite side here and throws me every time as does getting into the vehicle, I still walk to the wrong side) and full running (indoor) showers. It is a welcome relief but the novelty wares off quickly and I miss my sunset showers. Maun is lacking in things to do and one bores quickly. My entertainment is watching the donkeys, (Jessica would love it) goats, and people share the roads, sidewalks and I imagine some homes.














Friday rolls in and we were finally back in camp much to my relief. Anxious to get back into the African wild I forgot one minor detail. That now wonderfully beautiful well put together diff of which I just love (not) had to be installed back into the vehicle. Hence another day not out in the African wild but you guessed it, doing vehicle maintenance. I was hoping it wasn’t over yet I was just getting into it. We are on a roll why stop now?

Graham spent Saturday putting the diff in, greasing prop shafts of re-greasing the bearings and other general and always necessary maintenance. I helped by passing him the scalpels and absorbing yet more information that I hadn’t asked for or nor wanted. I got my hands mildly greasy and dirty. What joy.

All this shop talk over the last week has brought the beautiful impact the bush has had on me to the forefront. Eventually getting into the car and making our way to our wild home was immensely gratifying.

The road out of town quickly turns to dirt, and we cross through the buffalo fence. So named for it’s original purpose to prevent buffalo from ranging southward out of the delta during the wet season and thus coming into contact with cattle herds and contrary to keep the cattle out of the delta grasslands, and of course to fend off disease such as foot and mouth and sleeping disease.

There is a stark contrast between the landscape on either side of the fence. On the southern side the ground is bare, light grey dust and sand. On the north side there is grass, trees, and dense scrub which was a lush green when I arrived and as we head into winter and the dry season it has changed to a light brown or yellow with only a few brush strokes of color left in some flowers sporadically scattered throughout providing a stunning contrast when looking out into the landscape. Crossing through this fence calms me to depths of my soul. I settle back in my seat, feet on the dash and take a deep breath in filling my senses with the sweet smells, sights and sounds of the Delta. The first impala we see makes me smile, Impala run ramped and there are many of them, so I think we tend to take them for granted but when I see that first Impala beyond the buffalo fence I am reminded of their importance and beauty and they alert me that I’ve entered the Delta and am on my way home. Going the opposite way, it’s the random donkeys and goats in the road that alert me that I’ve arrived in Maun, not as lovely.

Shortly there after we see elephant, to which we often refer to as ‘ele’, wart hogs, and hippos. Our game drive home pleases me greatly.

Three and a half hours later we arrive in camp, and I feel thankful for all that it is. The sweet sounds of the Rio and Keita’s tiny little voices ring out, and the familiar faces and smiles of Andy, Brad, Jason, Franette and Prika and I am home. Albeit exhausted and covered in dust from the drive, I let out a sigh in comfort. I can’t wait to shower outside by the fading light of the sunset.

It is when I go to bed and rise this morning that all that I missed collides. I lie in bed and listen to the laugh of the hippos, the universal song of the night insects and crickets, and I try to settle into my book, but natures lullaby rocks me to sleep in no time.

I wake shortly after to the sound of something rumbling around in the bush, not heavily, just some grass brushing around so I assume a hyena or something of that size. I sit up to listen and look outside, and I see the unmistakeable silhouette of an elephants ears waving in an out looking in the direction of the tent. The silhouette is so dark that it could easily be mistaken for wonderful dream. The resounding outline of his immense frame makes it’s way across the path to my tent not three or four feet away from my front door. It’s pitch dark out its late at night and this enormous animal makes no sound as it walks. I always expect the earth to drum out a thunderous rumble under their feet, but mother earth doesn’t even seem to register the weight. They are gentle giants and walk as if not to disturb any creature in it’s vicinity from it’s slumber. They are the largest and oldest living creature on earth. Perhaps this is why they are so gentle with her, mother earth, with their uncanny skills preserving her, they appreciate her for her worldly wonder and respect her beauty, we can learn a lot from this wise old animal. They weigh over two tons, and can step on a twig and not break it. Not a single spec of dust stirs from the desert floor as they walk. If I closed my eyes I would not even have known of his presence. In many cultures the elephant is a symbol of power, wisdom, energy and strength, this resonates within me at this moment and brings out such raw emotions as the site of an Elephant always seems to do.

I woke at dawn as I do all mornings in Moremi to the morning sunshine and the ballad of all the Delta birds singing in course; the Francolins, Woodland Kingfishers, Starlings, Babblers (these always make me laugh), Ground Hornbills, Red and Yellow billed Hornbills an orchestra that seems to be conducted by the gentle hoot of the Giant Eagle Owl.

While a week in Maun touring scrapyards wasn’t exactly enlightening for me at the time, leaving the bush and the return home was a reminder as to why I am here, to cling to nature, participate in this environment, blend in with the magnificent animals, gain friendships and knowledge, a better understanding of myself and mankind,and of course look for the lions, a reminder to me that we are merely humans, living in the wild where ever we are, and how privileged I am to be able to bring the the magnificence and wonderment of the Delta and all that it is to you; my family and friends.

And now I must do a pitch, (you can take the girl out of the corporate but you can’t take the corporate out of the girl) please go to the Earth-Touch site now and often to follow what we are doing here in Moremi, follow the lions and everything else we meet along the way. And please do share this with all of your friends, things (and people) are only successful because of the help from others (we need numbers!) so help make us famous! ;-) Cartel I know you are busy with exams and I do wish you lot's of luck, but get those western academics logged on will ya! Even if through facebook! Not to mention this early mid life career crisis and change is expensive so I need to become famous so I can earn more and get my much anticipated promotion from assistant to Camera girl/writer extraordinaire (once mum and Graham get on the grammar and spelling issues, hey I deliver the content and entertainment, once famous thanks to you; I will hire an editor. Marissa stand by). Thanks all!

Guided tour of the Maun automotive establishments - 09:34 am
15 Apr 2009
By Penny Light


On our recent trips into Maun, I have yet to have time to explore the village. This is mostly because errands, admin and purchasing supplies seem to take a very long time to get done here. I am after all on Africa time, as I am often reminded by Graham when my patience runs thin. My north American ‘instant gratification’, ‘always in a rush’ and ‘can I have that to go with fries please’ mindset must be readjusted. This is a work in progress.

This trip into Maun was last minute. As mentioned, we needed to get the rear diff repaired. Understanding that we would have to wait for a part to be found I had thought it might be nice to explore Maun properly and was excited to do so. When the mechanic that we work with couldn’t get the part from a friend of a friend of a friend of his, we had to take matters into our own hands.

Graham informed me that ‘we will now tour Maun’. I smiled (read: grimaced) and nodded, knowing full well that this was not going to be the tour of Maun I was hoping for. I sit here now with an in-depth knowledge of Maun scrap yards, mechanic shops, car part, car swap, car wash, car wrecking, car spares and any other manner of automotive shops imaginable. I am also becoming regretfully knowledgeable in the art of mechanics. (Zen and and the art of film truck maintenance) I now have extensive theoretical knowledge of how a diff operates. Our vehicle specifically has a 10:37 pinion to crown-wheel ratio (not a 9:37 or a 10:41 or a 9:40 or any other for that matter) I am painfully aware that one has to count the number of splines. (Yes that is correct - I said “splines”.) The number of splines and ratio needs to match up otherwise the pinion (yes, I said “pinion") won’t fit. This is important. Apparently.

Graham let me have lunch which was a good thing as the brain needs food to function. Abbreviated Mechanics 101 was starting to overwhelm me. Over lunch I had time to reflect on why I am here in Africa. Apparently it has less to do with recording the beauty and majesty of wild Africa, and more to do with becoming a mechanic. Who knew. Over lunch Graham also has time to think, to scan his mind as to where we might find this part without having to order a new one from South Africa and wait three to four working days to get it. Another scrapyard! I grow giddy with anticipation.

My brain fed, Graham heads to another scrapyard, dragging a less-than-jubilant me along with him. We drive in past large protective gates, park next to a completely crumpled self-drive safari vehicle, move on through an office of sorts, through another door and into a huge yard of yes, scrapped cars. Who would have thought? Through another door into a huge warehouse of parts. Just parts. Parts piled on parts, piled on shelves, slung over rafters. Dirty, dusty parts. Could be art, so I take a photo. Nope, still just car parts.

It is not long before I hear Graham shriek like a teenage girl at a Hanson Brothers concert. I make my way to the aisle (these seem to provide some meagre order to this warehouse) and there he is. Big smile. Happily clutching a grubby piece of metal. What a proud face, I think to myself, he must be very pleased with himself. And he is. We make our way to the counter where we will now count, recount, count again, measure, fit and compare. Someone says, “aren’t you going to clean it to make sure there are no hairline fractures?” Who said that? It was me. I am afraid of this new found knowledge of mine. I have absorbed information that I have no desire to posses and am afraid I am being brain-washed here.

So, the point of this all is that we have eventually found the requisite part and, all going according to plan (ha ha ha), will be back in camp by tomorrow evening with a new-found appreciation for the workings of differentials (My father would be so proud.) and a greater appreciation for our wild home.

Lion sleeps 1 foot from my car

This guy came sauntering past me about one foot from the car, and plopped himself down beside the back wheel. The look on Graham's face is just before he said, "shhhh sit still and be quite". He slept by the rear tire for 45 min therefore we were unable to move the car, let alone ourselves. My heart raced as my butt fell asleep. When he woke, he sauntered right past me again, pausing beside the car, then kept going. Note that the car has no doors, just sayin'.... what an adrenaline rush!

Happy Birthday Destin

Riding shotgun is so passe, it’s all about riding rooftop in Moremi - a shout out to everyone!

I prefer to ride rooftop it brings me closer to the sky that is somehow already closer to me here. My unobstructed view of the vast African landscape, the open air I breath in, sweet smells of sage, wild lemon, dew on the grass in the early morning. To be able to reach out and touch the sunrise, today a bright orange, yesterday a pale blue and pink. The dark silhouette of the branches of a dead tree brought to life by the colorful backdrop. Rooftop on an old truck accordingly named Nyathi (pronounced Ne-ah-te meaning Buffalo in Zulu) is where I’d rather be. It’s quiet except for the wind in my ears and the sound of the birds. It’s just me up here. It is where I’ve been most introspective. Every bump in the road jolting me in and out of random thoughts. A subtle chuckle and a grin to myself as we pass a giraffe, I sit up straight as the grace of them always seems to make me do. A hippo in the distance snorts and blows in the water as we cusp the edge of his pond. A deep breath in, a sigh and I tilt my head back letting the wind blow my hair off my face and I feel euphoric.

Thoughts of my dad flow in and out all day, as they do most days. From the back of Nyathi I call out silently to the universe, I say good morning Dad. Thoughts of home, of family and friends, I wonder what you are all doing as I miss you. A bump in the road, I re-adjust my seating, jolted to the next thought, dinner with Uncle Dan and Aunt Risa. Bump. Mums olive and sage bread, potato bread, cream brule... food. Dwights dinner time jokes. Bump. Donna’s sweetgrass lotion, I really should have her send some. Bump, hanging on to the side of Nyathi tight. Jacqueline’s ride to conquer cancer (click on this link to sponsor her) and how her training is going. Jamie’s on Main and the all the Stowe gang, hmmm chocolate chip cookies and I wonder who is giving Ramby bacon? Marissa’s contagious laugh. Marketa’s trip to paris, Arian’s wedding planning and Janey’s new job, I don’t worry about Janey’s wedding planning, she is the most organized women on earth, I am certain it is all complete and ready to go. Bump. Karen’s over due and much deserved holiday. Big bump, re-adjust my position again. Mike’s new titanium hip, Foster, Michael and Judy at southledge, must be getting muddy there now and what do the dawn patrol do in the summer? Dawn golf patrol? I wonder if Paul has gotten the job re-location to Bracebridge where he loves to be more than anything. Big bump, hit a stump. Thinking about diving into a cool fresh water lake in Northern Ontario after a long hot summer drive up, not even unpacking, heading right for the water and remembering how the cool water feels on my hot skin. Beautiful fall colors, and moonlight snowshoes in Stowe. Rooftop drinks with the girls at the park hyatt, better; spa days with the girls at the Still Water. Oysters at Rodneys with Kath, and California veal sandwiches, mild with extra cheese. after a night out of too much wine. Did Madelyn get that new position at work and how was Ethans birthday party? Will Joe and Wynanne and the kids come visit? Bump. How is the whole Doiron gang? Big bump and things jiggle, must try to remember all the abdominal exercises Jess taught me.
(all feel free to send a note and answer all these questions!)

I realize this all sounds a bit romper roomish, (I think most of you will remember that show from the 70’s) however it is just a brief of my random thoughts, and to let you all know (even those not mentioned) that I do sit on top of a big old truck named Nyathi and ride through the Moremi bush looking for the lions and thinking about all of you back home and sending all my love from across the miles.

For my Uncle Bob the mechanic

My uncle Bob asked recently where our garage is. Bob is a car enthusiast and mechanic extraordinaire, if you need to find Bob, he'll be in the garage working on a car. So I thought I would show him our garage, the African bush basically. Often while out, often while in a river crossing we fix our vehicles. As well, check out this post with the video of our vehicle going through such a river crossing. (at the bottom of the post)

Snorkeling in Moremi

We had to go into Maun a day early (last thursday) last week for supplies and parts for the truck (again). I did not obtain any photo’s of Maun, it seems like everything does eventually get done, however very very very slowly. The Batswana don’t seem to have any real sense of urgency in their walk, talk or business. So we spend a lot of time waiting, what I think we could get done in a morning at home, here will take an entire day.

Graham and I spent a good part of one day going to a couple of greasy mechanic garages. I am used to this, I’ve been dragged to several similar garages at home by my father and various past boyfriends. The masculine chatter about engines, (between my father and uncle) and cars and the rest, as a young girl while I stood back silently listening (and a little bored), is how I learnt what I know about cars, which is more than most women I proudly boast. It is why Graham was impressed when I knew the gear box had to be “dropped” as a result of the clutch seizing, and that I understood that this was a huge undertaking. It is why I can and have changed a flat tire in a white suit with heels on and managed not to get dirty, and how I knew to use a pair of panty hose as an alternator belt when mine snapped in an old honda civic I owned. Anyway, there we were standing around boys chatting about car stuff, when I over hear the mechanic ask Graham why there is no snorkel on the utility vehicle (we use a toyota truck for supplies and moving between Maun and camp)

“Snorkel?” I am sure that I am not understanding the accents and didn’t hear that correctly. Images of the great barrier reef pop into my head and flippers and clear blue ocean. (I am once again standing silent in the background bored)

“We don’t take this vehicle under water” Graham responds confidently. Again, under water? Snorkel? Vehicle? Silly South African accent, I am sure it is some slang word used here for muffler or something. They do have silly odd little words and sayings for things like, kip for nap, and whinge as in “to complain”, a torch is not what they use on survivor, it’s a flashlight, and the dust bin, it's really a garbage can. Anyway, I digress. Turns out the cars here have snorkels. Yup because people drive their cars through rivers, and the car needs to take air in so there are in fact three options for snorkels.

Option A - no words necessary, obvious isn't it? It is "Good times Bob," having a good time snorkeling thrilled because he just saw a crayfish

















Option B - This actually is Grahams option (it's a google image he found, and clearly he liked it. We have no idea who they are, but I am sure they are very lovely people)












Option C - for the vehicle







This is our vehicle and what some of the crossings are like, this is snorkeling in Moremi.... and how I caught that frog with my foot

Distinguished Men

The morning started off warm with a slightly overcast sky that threatened rain. Since the last stretch of heavy rain we all cringe at the thought of another and look up to the clouds in hopes they do not open their faucets on us again.

We heard a single lion calling south-east of camp early this morning. I was happy to hear this powerful song this morning and woke excited for the day, its been some time since we have seen the pride.

We quickly made our way over to Sitsi plains and found one of the Xakanaxa pride males resting under a Mopane tree. We are uncertain as to where his brother or the rest of the pride are at the moment.

It is always magnificent to see these Males. I find them to be incredibly distinguished and stately in their masculinity.

Today a lesson of juxtaposition was in order, the male lion lay in the shade of the tree beside this beautiful purple flower, (later learned: Cornflower vernonia). Incredible white butterflies (also later learned Brown-Veined White) flew in and out of the scene performing a marvelous symphony of texture, color, nature and animal.

Another day on the job.... sigh

Cheetah - no words necessary

Leaping Leopards

We are finally back from Maun and the vehicle is in fine form, at least for now mechanics is a prerequisite for the job. I will be posting a funny story soon on our trip this time round to Maun and what I learnt about mechanics in Botswana. I am always happy to be back from Maun, the 3+ hour drive is beautiful but when we drive into out “driveway” there is a sigh of relief to be home. I have been noticing a change in the landscape as of late. The rains are done and the sun has been shining daily. With this, the grass browns and dries out and the trees thin out. It is strange to see this change without also seeing the changing colors we are used to seeing in Canada. In any case it is starting to look more like the desert it is.

We headed out on monday to look for the lions as we do, however it’s been some time since we’ve heard them calling and we figure they are off in the depths of the Mapone, where Graham swears to never take his vehicle again, until of course next time.

We came across this Leopard who we’ve seen once before and have nick named Buddha because of his lazy and large belly. It is difficult to spot Leopard this time of year because of the long grass and they move quickly with great agility and speed. He was up in a Leadwood tree having his breakfast, Impala a la carte. It was amazing to watch him balance with great skill on the branches of the tree, and watch him move so diligently and efficiently.

Broken vehicles, fishing for frogs, climbing trees, breakfast with Elephants and heightened senses

It's been an incredibly hectic few days here in Moremi, we seem to be having a string of bad luck with the vehicles. Just when we thought we had it all figured out with the clutch, the starter went. Go to the Earth-Touch site to get an update as to why our vehicles are so bashed up. While a bit humorous, it's frustrating. A day in camp can be painful. I love getting out into the game reserve, I miss seeing the animals every day. It's why we are here, and I feel a day is not complete without a Giraffe, Lion or Elephant saying hello.


However there is never a dull moment even with vehicle frustrations. After a day of Mopane bashing following the lions we headed to a place called paradise ponds in hopes they may come out of the Mopane on the other end of the scrub. It was lovely, beautiful lilies in a pond and an open space where we could get out of the vehicles for a bit and climb a tree, wade in the water with the lilies, (until Graham mentioned he felt a leech to which I promptly removed myself from the water), and nap beside the truck.






On the way back to camp one day I hung my foot out the edge of the truck to run my feet through the water in a crossing, and when I pulled my feet back in the truck the most beautiful tiny florescent green frog was on my foot! I'd fished a frog out of the water with my foot! absolutely amazing!

This morning, with both vehicles down we were forced to try to find something to film close to camp, if I haven't mentioned we film for a television station here in South Africa called Wild Touch, so it is imperative that we film something. So there we were thinking hmmm.... there is a lovely orb spider that is capturing the sun just right at the moment, when a massive herd of elephant started to pass right through camp and past the loo (thankfully no one was on it)..... perfect timing, a perfect morning, sipping coffee and watching elephant run past camp. Again, for that moment I felt extremely small in this world. The elephant remind me of this every time I place my eyes on them. We are here in their home, they are not in ours.

Mandi had asked about my senses here in the bush so I thought I would touch on that a bit as well. My senses seem to be amplified here. You quickly learn to listen intently for things like the lions calling, but also signs of warning so that you are aware of what is around you. The birds and squirrels will screech if there is a leopard or lion or snake around. When I go to the loo, or walk back to my tent, I have to listen, and look around me constantly as I go. My vision is getting better, you are constantly looking near and far so you use your eye muscles more. So yes you do become acutely aware of all that is around you, sounds, smells and a sight. It's wonderful, and adds to the sense of self awareness that is also growing in this environment, you are forced to tap into your intuition. I've noticed an increasing sense of connectedness with the environment around me, and to my point above a sort of relationship forming with nature.

We are heading into Maun to get supplies and parts for the vehicle. Hoping it will be less hectic than last time I will try to take some photos.

Happy Birthday Marketa