Christmas in Africa

It is funny how we all try to create a Christmas that we are used to at home, even when we are overseas in some exotic country. I know that our Antipodean friends have Christmas cards with snow on then, it is the height of their summer for goodness sake, and I have just received a Christmas card from Zimbabwe with a Christmas tree on it – there are no spruces in Zimbabwe.

I have to admit that I have fallen into this category (quite happily), and in particular I remember a Christmas that I had in Zimbabwe, exactly 20 years ago. I had invited nine friends of mine to spend Christmas with me in the African bush. I had a house which could accommodate everyone and we'd all just finished an expedition for Raleigh International. And so we all threw our heart and soul into a British Christmas in Zimbabwe. The fact that we had no Christmas decorations (let alone a Christmas tree), the house had hardly any furniture in it, I had not got enough crockery to feed 10 of us and turkeys were tricky to find, did not deter us. We were all adaptable people, and none of these problems were ever considered an issue.

On the way to my house in the African bush we had stopped off to buy all our provisions for a true British Christmas. However, the shops were not that well-stocked for the items that we were searching for. The year was 1992 and the drought had hit Zimbabwe in a big way, so there were a reduced number of provisions on the shelves and items such as crackers, baubles, tinsel, turkey stuffing and Christmas pudding were nowhere to be seen. We did however manage to buy a turkey, it was one of three turkeys left in the freezer and we were now the proud owners of the largest one. Just enough to feed all 10 of us, well, enough to feed probably 20 but we did all have large appetites.

The journey was a long one, and this was not helped with the numerous police checks along the way and the fact that we were travelling in a vehicle designed for six and our turkey was defrosting quicker than we had anticipated. Arriving at my home in Save Valley Conservancy was a blessed relief.

We then set about getting everything sorted. Some of the guys were on Christmas decoration duty and went out in search of a suitable branch or small tree that remotely resembled a Christmas tree. Others began to fashion Christmas decorations out of tinfoil, ping-pong balls, coloured bits of paper and anything else that we had managed to accumulate on the way. Being a lover of food I set about organising our Christmas dinner.

It was then that I realised my schoolgirl error. The turkey would not fit into my oven, it was too large. My stove was a wood-burning stove, designed for one or two people and not for an enormous turkey. And I was not prepared to hack the turkey into pieces.

So the next best option was to build a big enough oven - obviously!

The hot water for my house was supplied by a Rhodesian boiler. This is an antiquated yet very effective system, where a large oil drum of water is heated up by a log fire that burns beneath it. This is all done in a small brick construction, located outside the house, and often tended by the 'houseboy'. It only takes an hour or so for the water to reach boiling point, which then provides piping hot water in my house. My Rhodesian boiler system was relatively new, the old one still standing but no longer in use. And this is where the plan for a new oven grew from.

I could use the construction from the old Rhodesian boiler, the oil drum had obviously been removed, so there was the oven, and there was plenty of wood to provide the heat. All I needed to do was to block the hole where the oil drum had been taken out, and hey presto, there was my oven. Simpler said than done. An hour later I had fashioned my oven and was calculating a guesstimate for the cooking time. I guessed about three hours cooking time, and the potatoes could possibly go in there as well.

The following morning was Christmas Day and all sorts of preparations were made for our meal. We had gone to town on the foods, we had our turkey which was already cooking in the Rhodesian oven, roast potatoes in the more conventional wood burning stove, vegetables ready to be cooked and even stuffing had been made. The so-called Christmas tree was an old branch decorated in the handmade angels and paper chains. I have to say so myself, it all looked pretty good.

However, the timings of the turkey did not go quite according to plan. I'm sure you would have guessed this by now. It took longer for my 'oven' to heat up and although I could adjust the temperature by the number of burning logs in the fire, it still was not that accurate. We had planned to eat at around 5 o'clock, but by this time the turkey was still a little bit underdone, consider raw being a more applicable description. By 6 o'clock the turkey was looking more like a Christmas turkey, by 7 o'clock I decreed that the turkey might be edible, the potatoes and vegetables certainly were! I was right, 6 hours later the turkey was delicious, albeit a bit singed on the outside.

That was a Christmas to remember, although it was slightly quirky!

Happy Christmas everyone, where ever you are.

Yoga Safari to Mozambique....in pictures

Yoga Safari to Mozambique

Your neighbours in Gorongosa

Luxury tented accommodation in Gorongosa

Visitors to Explore Gorongosa

 Yoga on the beach

Your accommodation in Guludo - barefoot luxury

 

Sense Africa for Yourself

Sleeping with Felines....

I am not really a cat person but they do seem to like me.  Normal moggies seem to find my lap attractive, as do the not so normal ones - I have woken up to find a cheetah lying across my legs.  Admittedly it was used to taking advantage of people, being cared for at a cheetah sanctuary, but I had lost the feeling in my legs.  The very same cheetah had licked me on the face the previous night, which was quite painful as their have sandpaper for a tongue.  But my most memorable experience was having a fully grown male caracal curl up and fall asleep in my lap.  Caracals are cats with very pointy ears with black ear tufts, there are 20 different muscles in their ears allowing them to detect prey from all around.

So why  was this rare cat snuggling on my lap without a care in the world?  This particular one had been brought in to be cared for due to an injury it had sustained on the reserve I was working on, and it was going to be released back into the wild when fully healed. I was truly enjoying the novelty factor of zizzing with an African lynx. Caracals are quite large cats to have sitting on your lap, they are commonly known as the Persian Lynx or African Lynx, despite the fact that they not a lynxes at all.  And I came to appreciate the size of it, the longer it sat on my lap. These cats are tenacious hunters and they have been known to bring down an ostrich, the fact that they can keep up with an ostrich is a surprising fact in itself. The caracal mainly hunts rodents, birds (which it can catch in flight by leaping into the air), antelopes, gazelles and rabbits.  But this one was living the life of Riley by being hand fed cubes of impala.

A few days later my new furry friend was put into a large holding cage to allow him to get used to his natural surroundings, rather than a sofa, blanket and prepared steak.  Incredibly after two weeks he had no memory of his past luxurious life and his friend - he hissed threateningly at me from the back of the cage, ears back , tail up and teeth showing.  A week later he was released back into the wild fully recovered, having completely forgotten about impala steaks, a secure bed and about little ol' me.

He might have forgotten me but I certainly won't forget him.

Trapped by African Wildlife

It was a typical morning in Africa with Karen, we had got up early with the sun, been down to check the hippos that Karen was studying and were back at the house by breakfast time. I call her place a 'house', in fact Hippo Haven is more than a house, it is beautiful thatched home on the side of the River Turgwe in Zimbabwe, built and sculpted by herself and her able husband Jean.  There is no glass in any of the windows, just lots of frames of mosquito netting so the house is really cool in the heat of the day and filled with light.

Karen and Jean have a lot of cats, and these are kept inside for most of the time to protect them from the African wildlife.  Domestic cats are high up on the snack stakes and they also do not have much bush sense, being a bit soft around the ears when it comes to surviving in the African wilderness.

So there I was sitting inside with the sun streaming into the sitting room, surrounded by cats and contentedly reading my book. The cats were animated and attentively looking out through the mesh of the front door and playing games with each other, hissing, swiping and cavorting along the window ledges.  Arthur, the very large warthog, had come visiting and was munching through pony nuts outside the back door.  Karen often feeds wildlife that come to visit, and Arthur had a special place in her heart.  He came to the back door and was fed on a regular basis, the back door area was his.  The thing was that only Karen was allowed into Arthur's area, anyone else, including Jean, was charged by him, and that is a pretty scary experience.  A large warthog could break your shins, and Arthur certainly fell into that category!

Living where they do, Karen and Jean have a bathroom in their house - minus a toilet, the actual toilet was still the old long drop from when they had camped in the bush.  They did not want to build a sceptic tank, so the toilet was not part of the house.  And at this point I needed the loo.

I am not too sure how I managed to escape near death, but I am alive and kicking today.  As I opened the front door and headed right towards the long drop, my sixth sense kicked in.  I glanced back over my shoulder to the left, and there, only 2m away from me, was a Mozambique spitting cobra.  It was standing at about chest height, its hood was out and it was not best pleased.  All this information I took in at record speed and my brain engaged into retreat mode.  I must have looked like Scooby Doo, I am sure that I retreated in mid air, whilst doing those circular motions with my legs, and I slammed the door shut, making sure that all the cats were safe inside.

"Karen, there is a large snake outside the front door, and its not too happy", I yelled.

I peered out of the front door and the snake was still there, still looking rather hacked off with life.  The cats were not helping the situation by hissing through the netting and agitating the snake into an even worse mood that is already was in. We struggled to keep the cats away from the windows, the cobra may have been able to spit its venom through the netting, who knows, I was not really ready to find out.

It was then that I realised my dilemma, I need the toilet but I could not go to the long drop out of the front door for fear of meeting the cobra (it was a big one) and I could not leave the house by the back door because of Arthur.  I weighed up blindness with broken shins, and came to the conclusion that neither was an attractive option.

I could not really hold on for long, and from past experiences this wildlife situation might be around for a while. I came up with an alternative, it was the only option.

"Karen, I am going to have a pee in your bath."

Hungry Hippos

My first time in the African bush was in Zimbabwe and the whole experience was something never to forget. 

I was staying with my good friend Karen Paolillo, the person who I was to later describe as the Dian Fossey of hippos.  She single handedly saved a pod of hippo during the drought of 1992 in Zimbabwe, as well as countless animals in area, and it was during this time that I met her and had my first 'true bush experience'.  I stayed with her for 5 days, to learn about the bush so that I would be up to speed when I started my job as Ecologist for Raleigh International.

Karen and her husband Jean were working in Save Valley Conservancy and only had a caravan to stay in.  Near the caravan they had erected a small open sided shelter where they had moved their bed and a small table and chairs.  Usually only their cats slept in the caravan, but for the next few nights it was going to be my home too. It would be just too much for me to sleep out in the open this time around!

My first day in the bush was a dramatic one. Karen had identified this pod of hippo that was seriously affected by the drought - they had no water to use during the heat of the day and food was diminishing.  Hippos need a lot of food to sustain them, mainly bulk such as grass, and they also need water to protect their delicate skin from the fierce sun. Some of the hippos had blisters on their backs and many were certainly on the verge of starvation.

In the morning we went to feed a young mother who had moved away from the rest of the pod.  This involved me carrying a large sac of grass and pony nuts, Karen with another one and the two of us walking into the bush.  And there could have been anything in the bush waiting for us, as well as a hungry hippo. After a good half an hour of walking into the middle of nowhere, with Karen using her in-built compass and me totally relying on the fact that Karen knew where she was going, we arrived at a dry river bed. Karen told me to wait where I was, not to move, and she left me guarding the sacs of food. 

I waited, for what seemed like ages.  My mind went wild with the thought of me being watched by beady eyes, eyeing me up for food, with crazy thoughts that Karen would not come back for me and I would have to make my own way out of the bush. My thoughts were interrupted by a large crashing of branches and the sound of a very very large animal coming my way. 

Which way to go?  Which way to go?  I chose neither, stood my ground and waited whilst holding my breath, I was frozen to the spot through fear.  Then there was a deathly silence and, what felt like 20 mins later, Karen appeared.  She was impressed that I had stayed where I was guarding the food - little did she know that it was due to my inability to take any action that I had remained fixed to the spot!

The crashing had been the mother, charging through the bush in order to protect her young calf.  We knew that they were around and left the food on one of the banks, at her normal feeding point, and hastily retreated back to the relative safety of the bush camp. That was task number one done.  Task number two was to feed the rest of the pod.  This was much nearer but more labour intensive as there were more hungry hippos to feed.

Karen had a wonderful method - the hippos were given a giant 'sandwich' of grass, hay, molasses and pony nuts.  Each hippo would stand next to its neighbour and eat downwards through this 'sandwich' getting all the nutrients and bulk that a hungry hippo needs.  As Karen knew all the hippos she knew which hippo was happy eating in a group and which weren't, and where to put the 'sandwiches'.  It was a well thought out process.

I helped with the laying out of each element of the 'sandwich'.  We were a bit later than expected so we had to work quickly, and I was told to keep any eye out for greedy ones that came early.  I could empathise with this as I was getting hungry too, it been an exhausting day saving hippos. Out of the corner of my eye I sensed a movement, just a slight one, but one that was out of the ordinary.  This sense has developed over the years and has helped me spot wildlife for miles around, and get me out of trouble too.  I turned slowly and there was a hippo approaching the 'sandwich' that I was building.

"Er, Karen, there is a hippo here", I said as calmly as I could.  Adrenalin was pumping through my body as the hippo swung its head from side to side and then locked onto us.

"Move slowly backwards and get into the car" Karen said, and we both carefully walked backwards towards her battered old car.  I was praying that it would start first time this time, it was not that reliable. "If it charges, run."  I didn't need much more telling than that.  And then the hippo started moving forwards, picking up speed and opening its mouth, building up into a full blown charge.

"Run!"

We belted for the car, I leapt into the car and slammed my door shut although I did not really feel that much safer inside the vehicle. Luckily the clapped out car reacted as she should have done, roared into life and Karen reversed it at break neck speed away from the hippo and the 'sandwiches'.  The hippo was having none of this and continued to move faster towards us. Karen could not see the hippo, she was looking behind us to ensure that we did not hit any trees, so I gave her a helpful commentary of how we were doing.

"Faster Karen, faster, its gaining on us, Oh my God, faster, Oh my God!" were my helpful comments as the hippo bumped the car's bonnet. It was far too close for comfort.  Eventually the hippo gave up on its chase and decided that food was a better option. It turned around and lumbered back to its meal, leaving two wide eyed women in a car with hippo saliva on the bonnet.

Karen looked at me, her face must have been a mirror to mine - mouth open and eyes bulging, and we burst into nervous hysterical giggles.

"And that is why hippos can be pretty dangerous", gasped Karen between laughter.  I think I got the message there....

That night I went to sleep to the melodious sound of honking hippos - what an introduction to life in the bush. 

I was going to love it here.

Alternative Top 10 Items to Take on Safari

I am often asked what people should take whilst on safari.  There are the normal things such as mute and natural coloured clothing, sturdy walking boots and decent sunglasses, but there are other things I always take that you might not think of.  So here is a list of my Alternative Top 10 Items to Take on Safari:

1. A Warm Hat. It is often assumed that Africa is always hot, not so. A warm hat is greatly appreciated for those early morning safaris. To get the best game viewing you may find yourself up even before the sun and sitting in the back of a landrover can be a bit of chilly experience!

2. Gifts. A gift of clothes, biros or even a football makes an enormous difference. Giving to the local community benefits them and ensures that you are a special part of that community.  It also breaks the ice and you may even find yourself being invited into a homested.

3. Binoculars. By the end of your trip your binos will be stuck to your eyes! It is better to bring a not so good pair than none at all. You will be amazed at how more rewarding it is having your own pair of binos, and you will probably end up using them to spot all sorts of animals and birds.  Binoculars could add enormous value to your safari.

4. A Decent Camera. If you have a pretty good camera, thing bring it.  So may people ask me whether it is worth bringing a digital camera (and all the lenses) and what the likelihood is of it getting damaged.  Yes, it might get damaged (although this is unlikely), but wouldn't you rather create some incredible memories of your safari than not at all?  It is also a great way of engaging with the local people, showing your pictures of them makes it is easier to strike up a conversation, enriching both yours and their experience. Just make sure that you ask whether you can take a picture of them first.

5. Head Torch. Once used you will never go back. You will never have to put a torch in your mouth again when looking for that essential bit of kit!  A head torch makes life so much simpler.

6.  Copies of Documents.  Having a copy of your passport, insurance certificate and your airline ticket give you a bit of a safety net in the event that your real documents are lost or stolen. It makes life easier when being issued a new one or if you need their details.

7. A Bird Identification Book. You may think that you are not a twitcher, but after visiting Africa you may want to rethink this!  There is no way that anyone can ignore the fact that the birds in Africa are much more colourful, more dynamic and have fascinating and quirky habits.  By the end of the holiday you will be using your binoculars to spot yet another bird. Twitchers unite!

8. Hand Gel.  Hand gel is a great invention and handy to have when out and about in Africa.  Using hand gel before eating helps to seriously reduce the risk of you catching something whilst on safari and potentially putting you out of action for a few days. Better to be safe than sorry.

9.  A Good Book.  There is always time for relaxing and taking time out and reading a book by a waterhole, it is a small pleasure in life. You may even need two, or three...

10.  A Small Day Sac.  To put all the above in!

Sahara Trekking - more than I had anticipated for

I love the desert, the large wide open spaces where the distance never seems to end and the heat on my face warms my soul.  I love it how the warmth bounces up from the hot sand and makes my skin prickle from the sweat and the smell of dust and sand is intoxicating to me.  That was what I was looking forward to in my Sahara trek, travelling through one of the last true wildernesses of the world.  Little did I know that I was going to get more than I had bargained for, much more.

I was leading a group of people, for Across the Divide, on a five day trek through the desert, a maze of golden sand dunes, rocky valleys and wide wide open spaces which could take a day to cross.  I arrived a day earlier than the group in order to meet the in-country agents and ensure that everything was arranged correctly.  The group was made up of 42 people, so I had to get it right.  The route was in order and all the right food and provisions had been packed away.  It was all looking ship shape.

Our first day involved a journey in a dilapidated truck that would take us from the outskirts of the desert into the dunes of the Sahara.  The general consensus was that the Sahara was a sea of dunes, how wrong we were.

The Sahara is one of the hottest, driest and most inhospitable places on earth, and covers an area larger than the USA. It is made up of sand dunes but also boulder strewn plains where ceaseless winds and ferocious sandstorms have weathered rocks into weird sculptures.  There are rocky plateaus, canyons and dried up river beds and small oases with date palms giving a minimal amount of shade.  It is not a place for the faint hearted.

We had two good days of walking before the Sahara showed her true force, and there was nothing that we could have prepared ourselves for it.  A wall of sand bore down on us in the middle of day three and remained with us for a gruelling 36 hours.  Luckily we had all bought local scarfs and these were tied around our faces and over our noses so that only our eyes showed - from behind sunglasses.  Our sunglasses took a real hit and have never really been the same since!

I made sure that everyone knew who was in front of them and if they lost sight of them then they should not move until the people behind had all caught up. The local agents were brilliant and we kept everyone in a tight group - I was not going to loose anyone in this storm!  With myself at the back I would be sure that everyone was in front of me - although I could only see three people at any one time, the rest had been swallowed up by the sand storm. It was very disconcerting not being able to see the whole group but I trusted that they were all sensible and would follow my instructions.

The wind whistled by us, tearing at our clothes and blasting sand at us.  At times the sheer force of the sand being thrown at us was very painful.  The worst thing was when you opened your mouth to talk, and if your face was not well protected there was a mouthful of grit that played havoc with your teeth - akin to having your nails scratched down a blackboard.

Fours hours of purgatory later we found our campsite, all ready for us, and everyone spent the rest of the evening in their tents to escape the wrath of the desert.  One tent blew down so we had to dig in every tent to ensure that it did not happen again.  There was sand every where, even in my mint tea - how did it get there? Showers are not common in the desert, water being a rather valued commodity, so baby wipes were the order of the day.  Never have so many baby wipes been used on an expedition.  I needed five just to clean my face!

The wind was relentless through the night but in the early hours of the morning its tirade on us dissipated and it disappeared to persecute some other poor unsuspecting souls. The quietness was deafening. What a memorable experience, seeing the true soul of the desert.  Despite this, I still loved her.

Back in England I discovered the Sahara in all sorts of places; my sleeping bag, my boots (although I could have sworn that I had cleaned them out), my toothpaste (?!) and there was still mementos coming out of my ears and nose.

I will never underestimate the Sahara. And I would go again, even if it was for a repeat of the same experience. Wonderful.

Sleeping under the African stars in the wilds of Botswana.

I love spending a night out on the salt pans, it's an out of this world experience. Nothing really seems real. Imagine spinning around and around and around and the view simply not changing at all, just a white expanse of nothingness. This is what it is like out on Makgadikgadi Pan in Botswana.

The first time I spent a night out on Makgadikgadi Pan is still a fresh memory. 

We travelled in two vehicles - I was in the one behind and I learnt from this mistake for the future.  The dust from the vehicle in front often prevented me from keeping my eyes open but I could still see the odd ground squirrel scampering for cover and a couple of lone jackals searching for something tasty to eat in the harsh environment. An eagle circled in the sky waiting for some hapless creature to succumb to the searing heat bouncing of the white sand and the vegetation diminished until there was little more than grass, grass which was yellow and with little hope of surviving into the next month.

The horizon expanded even more, if that was at all possible, and I am sure that I could see the curvature of the earth. The sky was full of wispy zebra (horse) tail clouds galloping across the sky, it would be a perfect night. And then the salt pan filled my vision. A vast sea of white, flat as a pancake and exceptionally difficult to ascertain how far you could see. There was nothing to gauge distance on it at all. This was once a lake and had dried up leaving behind a superficial maze of enormous curling salt flakes and not much else. We drove out onto the pan and into 'nowhere', where we stopped for the night.

'Nowhere' was our planned destination; there were a few logs left behind from a previous visit and these were lit along with more firewood from the truck. A toilet was dug, a whole in the middle of 'nowhere', and an awning erected around it. Not much to hide behind here!  By now the fire was blazing and the aroma of sizzling steak being grilled over the braai made me drool like Homer Simpson. Sitting as the sun sank into the horizon was also out of this world - it seemed to be larger, brighter and redder than I had ever seen before.

Tents are not needed here, it is one of the few wild places in southern Africa where you can sleep out under the stars without the fear of an unwanted slithery guest in your sleeping bag in the morning or the fear of an attack from scavenging animals . A roll mat and your torch will do.

So after supper, I picked up my sleeping kit and marched out into the void of Makgadikgadi Pan.  Well, marched was not really the word I would have used, more tentatively walked into nowhere feeling sure that I would come across something scary.  I felt rather vulnerable as the light of the fire diminished to a small spec.  Why was I doing it I hear you ask?  Well why not?  It is not often you get the chance to sleep literally in the middle of nowhere, to have the peace and tranquility of Africa wrapped around you, and with the knowledge that you are safe. It takes a bit of guts as it is the fear of the unknown that ties you to the fire, but once stretched, or even broken, it is remarkable experience.  

I had a great nights sleep that night, although I have to admit I was a bit twitchy to begin with, complete quiet can be very disconcerting.  

Silence is deafening.

When was the last time you slept and only heard your own breathing?

Biltong is like Marmite, you Love it or Hate it.

Biltong - you either love it or hate.  And I love it.  But then I am a bit of a carnivore and I love cured meats of any kind.

 

Biltong is a kind of cured meat that originated in South Africa. Many different types of meat are used to produce it, ranging from beef to game meats to fillets of ostrich. It is typically made from raw fillets of meat cut into strips which are dipped in vinegar and then have salt and a variety of dried herbs rubbed into them. The strips of meat are then left to dry for about 4 days or until ready to eat. 

 

This was the way that meat was preserved in the olden days to prevent flies laying their eggs on the meat and to stop the meat from rotting in the intense heat. This method is still used today and it is a popular snack for eating on the move or with gin and tonic in the evening.  

 

The first time I ate biltong was on a journey through Zimbabwe and we had bought some 'wet' biltong. Wet biltong means that the meat has not been dried all the way through and is still soft, whereas normal biltong is completely dry and can be quite brittle and tough to chew at times. I loved the wet biltong but a limit was imposed on me as to how much I could eat - this was not because I was going to demolish the whole lot, although this was possible, but simply because there is a lot of chewing involved, eating too much if you were not used to it can result in serious jaw ache!  I did moan about this, ate too much and got jaw ache, but it was worth it every minute!

I remember the first time I made biltong. I was given an impala carcass and as I had not got enough room in the freezer for it all I decided to make biltong, like one does whilst one is in Africa! It was quite an easy process, although it did take a long time to cut the meat up into suitable strips. I used coriander and black pepper as my seasoning and hung the meat from a makeshift washing line in my veranda by clothes pegs. I can proudly say the end result was delicious. I did, however, physically see the reason for the vinegar – it kept some very fat blue flies (with bulbous red eyes) off my tasty snacks whilst they were drying. Three days later they were ready to eat, and there was no one there to stop me from getting jaw ache!

 

Biltong anyone?

Swimming with Whale Sharks

I am off to France for a holiday on Monday, and I am really excited.  It will be the first beach holiday which I have had a for a long time and I can not wait; the sun on my face, feeling warm, reading books and swimming in the sea.  I was contemplating taking my snorkel when I realised that the last dozen times I have been in the sea I have been with the most extraordinary creatures and that the Mediterranean may not have the same sort of creatures!

Mozambique is a great place to snorkel and an even better place to SCUBA dive. The coral reef is spectacular there and you can see clown fish swimming in amongst colourful corals, sea fans at great depths and even manta rays at 'cleaning stations'. Magical.  I have been on a dive when I could have sworn that I had seen a great white, even the instructor had rather larger eyes than usual, I have seen manta rays with wing spans of over 4m and I have seen squadrons of  devil rays, all swimming over us like planes in WWII. The fish are curious and not scared of divers allowing me to have incredible sightings of all kinds of fish ranging from powder blue surgeon fish to red fang trigger fish and clown fish to scorpion fish.  However, the best fish sighting was a whale shark.

And yes whale sharks are fish, despite their size, in fact the largest confirmed individual was 12.65 metres long and the heaviest weighed more than 36 tonnes although unconfirmed claims report considerably larger whale sharks. Whale sharks have spots all over them and is known as "pez dama" or "domino" in Mexico for its distinctive patterns of spots. It is a deity in Vietnam and is called "Ca Ong", which literally translates as "Sir Fish". But the best name is from Kenya, Africa, where it is called "papa shillingi", coming from the myth that God threw shillings upon the shark which are now its spots and in Madagascar the name is "marokintana" meaning "many stars".

My first sighting of a whale shark was off the coast of Mozambique when I was going to Manta Reef to do my last deep dive for my Deep Diver Speciality Course. It was a long boat journey out, well 40 mins, and we were told that there were often chances of seeing dolphins as well as whale sharks along the way.  I had been keeping my eyes peeled for a whale shark for ages and had yet to see one.

My luck was in that day in 2003, as a whale shark suddenly loomed up from the deep below to surface very near our boat.  We had been briefed that if one did surface we could get in the water with it and swim close to it, but not to touch it.  Touching the skin could damage it as we could pass on chemicals that might affect the shark.

I didn't need second telling, as soon as the boat cut its engine I elbowed my way past everyone else to get into the water first, I never thought I had it in me!  It was a wonderful moment as I snorkeled up to this giant fish and watched it as it swam leisurely past me.  It was enormous. Despite its size, whale sharks do not pose significant danger to humans and although massive, whale sharks are docile fish and snorkelers can swim without risk, apart from unintentional blows from the shark’s large tail fin! So I kept well away from its tail and spent a glorious 10 mins with this whale shark before it dived into the deep blue sea.

Memories of a life time.

Meerkat Magic

I was recently working in Swinley Forest and had the opportunity to hold a meerkat..... again. I know that it seems a bit of an odd place to find a meerkat, near Bracknell, but I was working on a team event called 'I am a Team Player, Get Me Out of Here', loosely based on the very similarly named popular TV show. We were providing a scaled down version of the hit series and there was a guy who pitched up with £5,000 worth of creepy crawlies and other exotic animals in the back of his van for 'animal encounters'. This included a Chilean rose tarantula (which I gingerly held - I have a bit of a phobia about large hairy spiders so it was a big thing for me), a vat of crickets, a number of snakes including an impressive albino python and two adorable meerkats.

The last time I held a meerkat was in the back of beyond in South Africa, a rescue meerkat from the bush, and as I cradled the one in Swinley Forest whilst it made a chirrup purring noise, it brought back memories of my wonderful meerkat experience.

I had been working with a game capture unit and we were based at a farmstead where we were trying to catch inyala. There was obviously a caring side to the owners as there were rescue animals of all shapes and sizes living in the house, ranging from wild cats to meerkats. All things fluffy and cuddly and I fell in love with the place.

It may not seem much, but I was asked to look after the new addition, a meerkat, a small bundle of fluff that needed constant supervision and needed to be kept warm.  I was offered this rather important roll and this small male pup instantly became attached to me, and me to it. Meerkats go around in groups called a 'mob', 'gang' or a 'clan' and I like to think I became part of his 'gang', with him tucked into my fleece to keep off the chill of the cold African mornings.

Meerkats are intriguing animals, they can dig as much dirt as their own body weight in a couple of seconds, they are immune to the poison of snakes and scorpions and they are such good hunters that some have been tamed to become rodent catchers. However, they are the favourite food for eagles and hawks and with a sharp shrill from one of the meerkat sentries the whole clan will disappear into their burrow network - young meerkats are so afraid of predatory birds that even airplanes will send them diving for cover!

And that was where I came in.  I protected this bundle of joy from 'airplanes', kept him warm from the harsh African weather and spoke to him as a team member.  It was a joy that only lasted for two days but provided memories for a life time.

You never forget when a wild animal accepts you into their pack, despite its size.

Tick Blitz

Getting a tick is not high on any ones list. 

There are over 850 tick species in the world, of which 100 are capable of carrying a disease such as Lymes disease or Tick Bite Fever. Ticks are not born with a disease, they pick it up from their hosts.  They are quite clever really, in their adult form ticks will climb up vegetation and use their forelegs to feel/grab for a host, using carbon dioxide, scent, body heat and other stimuli to find the host. Ticks are usually found from ground level to three feet above the ground. 

These past few days I have been walking in the North Wessex Downs assessing Silver Duke of Edinburgh groups and I didn't really appreciate how rife the ticks were in the area.  I spent a good while removing ticks with carefully selected tweezers.  I found these ticks much harder to remove than the ones in Africa, these ones were much smaller and once they had really buried their heads into the girls flesh they proved to be difficult to remove. Ticks have not got good biting mouth parts so have to bury their mouth and head into their host in order to get to the blood vessels.  Charming creatures.

African ticks also come in a variety of shapes and sizes, but seem to be easier to remove. I remember advising a group of girls that walking through the bush in a strappy top was not a good idea, the bush was over head height and they were off the beaten track walking transects across a game reserve.  But they wanted a tan and it was too hot.....  They only needed to to be advised once; that night I spent many an hour meticulously picking ticks off from around a number of bra strap lines!  Once you get the hang of the method - twist and pull, it can be quite therapeutic.

Ticks can be avoided with insect repellent but the best thing to do is to wear long trousers and a long sleeved shirt - also helps with preventing sunburn when in Africa, and the UK (at the moment)! 

Life whilst on Game Capture

Last week I was watching TV and as I was flicking through the channels I stumbled across 'Great Animal Moves'.  There was a translocation team moving two large bull elephants in Malawi, from one game reserve to the next, and it brought back great memories of when I was working with a game capture unit in South Africa. Imagine my surprise when the camera panned round and there was Kester Vickery organising the loading of one of these elephants - it had been Kester's team that I had worked with!

I had been asked by a good friend of mine, Jason De Carteret, to join a game capture unit and to give some feedback on the viability of a business idea. Jason was the helicopter pilot working alongside Kester's game capture unit and I spent a very happy month living in the bush, manhandling animals of all shapes and sizes, loading them in and out of crates and driving them across the African wilderness.

I was certainly thrown in at the deep end; I found myself feeding captured rhinos whilst they were in their crates, walking in a line through the African bush trying not to step on any unsuspecting snakes (and in the process shepherding game into specific enclosures), picking ticks by the dozen of my overalls and rugby tackling antelope before injecting them with a sedative. It was the stuff that dreams are made of. It was hard work though, we were getting up before the sun rose and after a quick breakfast we were on the move in the bush for the whole of the day. There was no time for those that could not keep up and if you made a mistake you certainly knew about it!

The most enjoyable time I had was capturing nyala. Admittedly this did not involve the use of the helicopter, or chasing after semi sedated giraffe in vehicles across bumpy terrain or watching rhino been manoeuvred from one crate to another, nyala capture was even more exciting, it is done by hand.

Nyala are dense bush dwelling antelope and cannot be rounded up by vehicle or helicopter, it is all achieved by manpower. A large net about 3m high and 30m long is set up in the bush, in an area where nyala are known to frequent. Then a handful of people called spotters, which often included myself, hide in the bush in front of the net, and wait. You have to have incredibly patience doing this as you could be waiting a while before the action starts. And any movement can spook nearby game. Meanwhile, a few kilometres away, the rest of the team form a long line and start 'beating' the bush to flush the out the nyala and push them towards the trap.

At this point my adrenaline levels were normally overloaded as I could hear the game in the bush moving nearer to my hiding spot. As the animals got closer the tendency to hold your breath got greater and I found that my senses, especially my ears and eyes, were heightened. And then a dozen or so nyala would run past me, so close that I could touch them, and fall into the trap of the netting. Then the action began.

Immediately the spotters would be upon the animals bringing them physically to the ground, lying across them and blindfolding their eyes. If an nyala did not hit the netting it was a bit of a free for all - nyala were rugby tackling to the ground! Lying on the animals and blind folding them calmed them down and prevented the antelope from damaging themselves.  At this point a vet sedated nyala to prevent further stress. Once sedated you can walk the nyala as if you are pushing a bicycle, one hand on an ear and the other hand grabbing the hair on its shoulder, and you can steer it towards the truck or container. A very odd experience all round!

I had a wonderful time working alongside Kester's team.  You never really knew what type of game hit the net. More often than not it was nyala, although we did once have a rather unhappy leopard. We decided to leave her to untangle herself!

A Cheetah Kiss

I was in a meeting with three incredible business women, Samantha Mant of Three Sixty Services Ltd, Rebecca Tregarthen of rejoove and Deb MacLeod of DMM Consulting, and we were having a great discussion about social media and subject matter. Luckily for me, Sense Africa subject matter is pretty much limitless and there are so many stories, anecdotes and facts about Africa that I can impart. Finding factoids about plumbing, business development and client relationship consulting can be a little bit harder and my friends have to be much smarter with how they get their message across.

I can talk about Africa until the cows, cats come home and wildlife experiences are always a great topic, well it is for me. So here is a cheetah story....

I was doing some research into cheetah projects in Namibia a few years back and found myself visiting a farm which took in problem cheetah.  These cheetah had, more often than not, killed cattle and were therefore considered a pest species. The cheetah were then captured and relocated to a farm in the north of Namibia where they were fed and looked after and, if possible, new homes were looked for.

I arrived by car and got out to open the gates. There was a fenced area, like with all homesteds in Africa, where the land around the house is fenced in to prevent wild animals getting too near to the home. Just as I was opening the gates I noticed two cheetah lolloping from around the back of the house. I promptly closed the gate for fear of letting them out, but more importantly, for fear of them getting too close to me. This was not really what I had expected, most people in Africa have dogs guarding their house, not cheetah.

Chris then came out of the front door, luckily he had been expecting me, and he shouted that it was OK to come in. I have to admit I was a little bit reserved in opening the gate, I was now only 2m away from what I perceived to be very wild animals. It was all rather surreal. The cheetah lost interest and walked away whilst I gingerly got my bags out of the car. This was going to be an memorable stay!

Cheetah are interesting animals, they are easily domesticated and in the olden days were often used as pets. However, once cheetah are familiar with man, they lose their hunting and survival instincts and cannot be reintroduced back into the wild. These two cheetah had been taken in when they were cubs and had therefore become used to living in a semi-domesticated state. They were fed carcasses on the back lawn, sharpened their claws on the garden trees and wandered inside the house as if they owned it – which in my mind they probably did.

That night it was Chris's birthday and we celebrated by having champagne outside under the wonderful starlit African sky. The steak was on the braai and we were listening to the sounds of the African wildlife, I was truly content at that moment. What more could a girl want?

Chris asked me a question about the projects I was running and I turned my head to the right to answer him whereupon I found myself being eyeballed by one of the cheetah, 20 cm away from my nose. I opened my mouth slowly to answer his question (sudden movements are not good) when the cheetah leaned forward and licked me on my arm. I know that cats have rough tongues, but this felt like I was being electrically sand papered with nails, I was surprised to find that my skin was still intact.

What more could a girl want? A cheetah kiss was suffice.

Camping with Elephant & Hyenas - Too much Excitement for One Night...

I have recently organised a family holiday to Botswana for Joy Harcup and her family. They are travelling in August and having just gone over their itinerary I am very envious that I am not going too!

There is something magical about Botswana, it has this peaceful air about it, probably because Botswana is a destination for the more discerning traveller, staying in exclusive lodges and in the tranquility of the African wilderness. It has taken luxury to the extreme.

One of the best ways to see wildlife in Botswana, especially in Moremi and Savute, is to go on a mobile camping safari. I remember the last time I was camping in Botswana was in Savuti campsite, where Joy and her family are staying, and where I saw a host of animals just by sitting in my campsite. The first animal to be spotted was an elephant, this one was busy digging at the ground right in the middle of our campsite. As we approached our tents I could see that the elephant had dug a hole to locate the underground water pipe, which he had smelt out, broken the water pipe and now there was a small watering hole in the middle of the campsite! Close encounters of elephants can be good but when going to our tents we made sure we were as far away from this drinking hole as possible! The elephant did not seem too bothered by us, he just wanted a drink of cool water.

As we had supper we saw wildebeeste, impala, kudu and zebra, we didn't even have to get up to see them, they just walked past us on the way to their water hole. It was all a bit surreal.

Our last known visitor was something special. Night had fallen and we were sitting around our campfire watching the twinkling stars and listening to the noises of the African Bush, it was a beautiful night that night. We had got used to elephants and other animals coming into drink at our waterhole, but when yelping and growling were heard we knew we had some new and exciting visitors. I gradually trained our spotlight onto our waterhole to see four bright blue eyes glaring back at us. The eyes seemed to be the same height as I was when I was standing and then there was that familiar 'laugh' which gave our visitors identification away. I could not believe how enormous these hyena were, we all had our mouths open watching them.

It had been an incredible evening and as I lay in my tent I realised how lucky I was to see these animals - and in my own campsite.  It is not often that you say you shared your campsite with an elephant and two hyenas, but then these sort of things happen in Africa.

I am looking forward to hearing about Joy's safari to Africa, I hope they all have some incredible memories too.

The Lioness and My Bacon

Mana Pools, Zimbabwe, is an extraordinary place and I would certainly classify it as one of the true wildernesses of Africa.

A few years back I camped in one of the remoter campsites of Mana Pools. In order to use the wilderness camps you must have a registered hunter with a firearms licence in the group - you really are stuck out in the middle of nowhere. We had this wonderful campsite, overlooking the River Zambezi, with the most incredible vista along the floodplains.

And it was here that the excitement began.

During the night there was a lot of lion activity down on the floodplains; roaring lions throughout the night, clashes between nervous lionesses and the mewing of cubs caught in the fracas. It was a surprise anyone got any sleep at all - I certainly didn't.

In the morning I tentatively got out of my tent to find Stewart, gun in hand, standing on the outskirts of our campsite checking out the area. There was a large male lion defending his pride from a younger male, all happening about 200m away, it was quite extraordinary.

I started the braai (BBQ) for our breakfast of bacon and eggs, whilst Stuart kept an eye on our distant neighbours. The bacon was on the braai, sizzling away and the eggs were boiling, perfect. There were five of us in the group and we all stood cleaning our teeth, like sentinels, watching the lion saga unfold.

"If any of the lionesses breakaway from the pride, get into the vehicle immediately", said Stewart, " do not think about it, just do it."  We all nodded, completely understanding the implications if we didn't act quickly.

Of course this is what happened, two lionesses broke away from the pride, coming in our direction at a steady trot, and we clambered over each as we dived in through the windows to get to safety. It did not take the lionesses long to cover the distance and before we realised it they were in our campsite. Unbeknown to us there was also another lioness in the area with her two cubs, protecting them from the incoming male. They were not a threat to us, they were keeping their distance from the newcomer, but it was still quite a hairy experience having these five visitors, and so close too.

And then they smelt the bacon… inching closer to my breakfast wondering what that mouthwatering smell was.

There was no way I was going to leave my breakfast to these cats. That was not an option. Luckily I was sitting in the drivers seat and I decided to take direct action. With some careful manoeuvring I managed to position our vehicle right next to the braai so that I could finish cooking breakfast through the driver's window, in complete safety.

And that is my memory of Mana Pools; me dispensing breakfast as if I was in a Drive Thru, surrounded by salivating lions.

Weird Bird Names

I sometimes wonder who on earth was given the role of naming birds.

I understand that there are a large number of birds in the world but sometimes their names do not seem to do them justice. For instance, why the African Wattled Lapwing is named as it is whilst the White Crowned Lapwing  has much larger wattles - this can cause some confusion at a waterhole.  And why does the African Pitta sound a rather dull and boring bird when, in my opinion, it is one of the most colourful birds seen in Africa. And as for the Broad Billed Roller, don't get me started, it has extraordinary lilac/purple underparts, but those aren't mentioned are they?  Its bill is not that broad really, but its lilac chest is something to sing about...

Then there are all the exotically named birds such as the African Paradise Fly Catcher, the Gorgeous Bush Shrike (which really is gorgeous) and the Greater Double Collared Sunbird, now they are named correctly. I think that after a while the person naming the birds got a little bit bored and resorted to naming them after their more obvious characteristics - the Red Winged Starling has red wings (although I would probably call them russet,) the Yellow Billed Stork is a stork with a yellow bill and the Long-tailed Paradise Whydah does in fact have a very long tail.

There are also some wonderfully named birds where you would have had to have taken something illegal to think of these names – the Secretary Bird which has some plumes sticking out of the top of its head which may or may not resemble a pen behind the ear, the Twinspots which have two white spots on every small feather but you would have had to captured them to find this one out and the Tambourine Dove has not a musical instrument in sight and does not sound like one either.

Whatever your thoughts on birds, Africa does actually bring it all to life, and once you have got your head around the unorthodox names you will become a twitcher - be proud of it!

The Birth of a (very small) Hippo

I have just been watching some incredible video footage by my friend Karen Paolillo of the Turgwe Hippo Trust. The video shows the antics of a very newborn hippo and its mother – video footage that has probably not been seen before, I never have.

Karen single-handedly saved a pod of hippo during the 1992 drought in Zimbabwe, and since then she has become a bit of a 'hippo whisperer'. My first experiences of Africa was with Karen when I went to stay with her for five days, my first five days in the African bush. I was very naive, but those five days taught me a lot about Africa, the wildlife and how to survive in the African bush. Karen's house is very rustic, is in the middle of nowhere and wildlife has the right of way. There were warthogs near the back door, monkeys sitting on the roof, Mozambique spitting cobras in a number of places around the house and kudu browsing on the nearby trees. It was like being in a ground-based Noah's Ark. I learnt how to track animals in the bush, how to watch hippos from a safe distance and how to avoid a charging elephant. It was stuff that dreams are made of.

The melodious sounds of honking hippos to me is the essence of Africa.

Cockroaches - Cunning or Critter?

This last weekend I was enjoying the sun in Chris and Amanda Cowley's (of RedPR) back garden, and the subject of cockroaches came up. I know that this is not a normal conversation over tea, but our conversation wasn't normal anyway. It was geared around Africa and other exotic destinations. Chris had mentioned that whilst he was overseas, a cockroach had crawled over his face, and he had waited in James Bond style whilst this cockroach moved on before he could take his shoe to the little critter.

I feel as if I am quite well versed on the subject of cockroaches and happily recalled the time that I had spent many a night squashing cockroaches in a seedy youth hostel bathroom in King's Cross, Sydney. Little did I know at the time, that if the cockroach is female, the eggs are jettisoned and can hatch at a later date. In order to prevent a massive infestation the best thing to do is to cover the whole place with bleach to prevent cockroach world domination. I didn't know this at the time, and we narrowly escaped a cockroach coup.

I do feel a bit of an expert on cockroaches, partly because I've spent a lot of my life in areas where there are vast populations of the critters and partly because I have spent many an hour reading up about them. I have to say, for my defence, that the reading up about them was because I had nothing else to read. Whilst I was living in Vanuatu I found a bookshop which had three English books in its, the rest were all in French. I am a bit of a bookworm and was delighted to find an alternative to the books that I'd been rereading. These were "The Three Musketeers", "Much Ado About Nothing" and "Laboratory Experiments on Cockroaches".

The book on experiments on cockroaches proved to be quite fascinating, as well as rather macabre. For instance, did you know that you can freeze a cockroach in a tub of water, defrost it, and it will carry on as if nothing has ever happened to it? Cockroaches can also survive a vacuum (for a very short space of time), will continue to move for a number of days once decapitated, can survive high voltage electrocution and are one of the few animals on earth that could survive a nuclear holocaust. Now that certainly has to show something cunning about these creepy crawlies.

I personally do not like them, they resemble something out of the Alien films, but you do have to give them their due. They have managed to survive in a number environments and I suspect there is a master plan to conquer the world.

They are nasty little critters, in my mind, but I am sure they have a 'cunning plan'. Beware.

A Roan Licked my Mirror

Whilst out in Swaziland I was in Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the reserve.  There is something about Mlilwane that makes me feel as if I have come home, it is a wonderful place where you can get away from everybody and take time out for yourself.

I was driving around the park with my friends Terry and Vicky, looking at the animals that were housed in the endangered breeding area.  Ted Reilly, who set up Mlilwane after recognised the demise of Swazilands' wildlife, is trying to re-introduce species that were once roaming wild in Swaziland.  We had already seen red duiker hopping amongst the undergrowth, watched sedentary eland and heard the booming calls of the blue crane.  But the most remembered sighting was of a roan antelope.

"Stop, stop, I'd like to take a photo", said Terry and I pulled the car over to watch the approaching roan.

Terry had his camera on zoom trying to focus on this particular animal, and it obliged by walking closer to us. And closer, and closer until the roan completely filled his view finder.  Terry took his camera away from his face only to realise that the roan was eye-balling him, only 1m away!  This did not stop the brazen animal, it leaned towards the open window and stuck its head right into the car and began to nibble on the mirror adjuster knob! I was speechless, until I realised that its horns could get caught inside the car. This could not only get messy but the rental car company would not be happy, let alone my bank balance.

With some verbal persuasion, the roan removed its head from our small mazda, licked the wing mirror as a passing shot and nonchalantly walked off to graze on more wholesome grass.

Terry never really got his award winning picture, he was too busy laughing.

Expect the unexpected in Africa!

A Taste of Africa - Bobotie

This weekend I will be out on the hills in the Lake District checking up on students who are  practicing for Ten Tors and Gold Duke of Edinburgh. It will be good to be out in the fresh air.  However, sometimes camping food can not be that great and I know I will be craving healthy, wholesome food.

My great friend Ed Tuffin gave me this receipe and it is delicious, I am sure that I will be dreaming of it.  Ed is also accompanying me on Sense Africa's Rejuvenation Safari to South Africa in September providing more delicious receipes and gourmet meals to tantalsite our taste buds.

Try this Bobotie and tell me what you think. It is also cheap and cheerful, which is what we all like.

Chickpea and Lentil Bobotie with turmeric and cinnamon rice with toasted almonds.

Ingredients:
2 Tablespoons- Olive oil
1 Large red onion, diced
1 Clove garlic, crushed
1 Large grated carrot
1 Large grated apple
1 Tin green lentils(250g)
1 Tin chickpeas (250g)
1 Teaspoon curry powder
1 Tsp  Ground coriander
1/2 Tsp Ground ginger
1 Tsp fresh or dried chopped mixed herbs
1 Tsp Turmeric
1/2 Tsp Cinnamon
1 Tsp Sugar
1/2 Tsp Fresh chopped red chilli or Cayenne pepper
1 Tsp Salt
1/2 Tsp black pepper
Juice and rind of 1 Lemon
2 Slices of white bread soaked in water,lightly squeezed and mashed
2 Bay leaves

Topping:
400 ml Greek or thick yoghurt
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 Tsp salt, pinch of pepper

Rice:
250 grams rice
625 ml water
2 Cinnamon sticks
2 Tsp Turmeric
1 Tsp Salt
Handfull of toasted flaked Almonds

Method:
Heat oil in a pan and fry off onions and garlic. Add chickpeas and Lentils. After about 2 minutes add grated carrot and apple then add spices and continue cooking briefly to develop spice flavours.
Add lemon juice and zest, Bay leaf and the mashed bread mixture.
Spread the mixture out into an ovenproof dish.
Beat together the topping ingredients and pour onto the Bobotie. Bake in an oven at 190 degrees c (375 f)(Gas mark 5) for 35 minutes until golden brown and firm.
Put the rice, water, turmeric and cinnamon in a pan and boil until done. When cooked, drain rice well, remove cinnamon sticks and mix through the toasted almonds.
Spoon onto warmed plates with Bobotie and a big green salad!!!!

Now tell me that your mouth is not watering!

Painted Wolves

I was at a wonderful party last Friday evening, at Mimi Avery's, of Avery's Wine Merchants of Bristol. So obviously the wine was pretty good that evening. There were a number of people there that had been to Africa and even someone from the BBC who is in the process of managing people filming out in Sierra Leone – rather them than me.

Anyway, we were discussing wild dogs. For those of you who are keen wildlife spotters, you will know that seeing wild dogs is something of a treat. I have only been lucky to see them a few times, but I will never forget my first sighting of a pack of wild dogs - the painted wolf.

It was in Zimbabwe, during my time in Save Valley Conservancy, and I was driving back to my mud hut which really was in the middle of nowhere. (My first night there I had not slept a wink for fear of being eaten by a passing leopard.)  An impala bolted across the road in front of me, swiftly followed by three wild dog. I've never seen anything like it. They caught the impala about 10 m from the road whereupon the remainder of the pack descended upon their evening meal. The impala didn't stand a chance. There didn't seem to be any semblance of order, all the dogs just tucked into this impala, squabbling and fighting over tasty morsels. You had to admire the way they devoured their prey, within half an hour only the horns and a few bones were left. And I was dehydrated as my mouth had been open for the duration!

As the light was fading, these satisfied and satiated animals trotted quietly into the bush like ghosts, leaving little behind to show that they had been there in the first place.

It was a memory never to be forgotten.

Yoga Safari to Malawi - shown in Pictures.

This yoga safari to Malawi offers a holistic approach to well-being, placing the same emphasis on your body, as well as your mind...

Give yourself a treat...

Give yourself a rest...

Spend time watching the wildlife and find peace in the serenity of the African wilderness...

Listen to the honking of hippos in The Shire River...

Leisurely float by sun bathing crocodiles and watch the herds of elephants drink from the river...

Stay in inspiring accommodation and get back to nature...

Eat healthy and nutritious food...

Become motivated in wilds of Africa...

Learn more about African wildlife...

Practice yoga over looking the African savannah....

Feel re-vitalised....

Snorkel in the aqua marine waters of Lake Malawi...

Feel the sun caress your face...

Explore the tranquility of Africa...

Practice pilates on the white sands of Lake Malawi...

Take time out for you...

Relax mind, body and soul.

A Picture Paints A 1000 Words

I am really excited about the new trip that I've just put on my website - a Rejuvenation Safari in South Africa. 

The pictures speak for themselves.


Take time out to soothe an aching body in the luxurious setting of White Elephant Bush Camp....

Explore Pongola Game Reserve, a private game reserve set on the banks of Lake Jozini where four of the Big 5 animals can be spotted as well as a host of other exciting and wonderful wildlife....

You never really know what you are going to see....

Have 1-2-1's with a professional expert to help you with your well-being programme....

Spend time participating in group relaxations sessions....

Restore your mind, body and soul...

Stay in exclusive accommodation, privately situated in the African wilderness and away from the hubbub of mass tourism....

Taking time out for yourself....

Track elephant and rhino on foot, lazily float by boat on Lake Jozini and watch the honking hippo or simply lie beside the pool and feel at one with nature....

Experience tranquil settings....

Spend time by the sea....

Revitalise yourself....

Re-energise yourself....


Sense Africa for yourself.

Tapping for your Health

I was recently reading an article in the Natural Health magazine and was instantly drawn to an article called " Tap your Way to health". I know there are non-invasive techniques known as health tapping, but I did not realise how many techniques there are to naturally combat a variety of common health issues. We all use health tapping without even realising it, such as gently rubbing the place that hurts. This is a very primitive form of tapping, but in essence it is still the same thing.

I was amazed that with tapping we can help ourselves to relieve pain, reduce stress, combat colds, reduce lethargy and control migraines, all by tapping different areas of your body. So here are a couple of useful methods to help you with your day;

1. To help relieve anxiety or stress place your first three fingers just below your belly button and pushed gently for the count of three and release for the count of two. Repeat this five times.
2. To reduce lethargy put your thumb on the palm of your other hand, near where your thumb and index finger meet, and put your index finger on the opposite side of your hand to your thumb. Using your index finger, tap the opposite side of your hand for the count of 10 and then gently squeeze this area for the count of three. Repeated as often as you want to.

Now that is better than taking some tablets isn't it?

Give it a go, nothing ventured nothing gained.

Young and Invincible

Sometimes I look back at my life and I wonder how I have managed to stay alive. I have made some ridiculous decisions.

One of these decisions was to hitchhike from Zimbabwe to Malawi, via Zambia, by myself. Malawi is said to be a fantastic country, with its aquamarine gem of Lake Malawi balancing out the forested northern highlands, it is reputed to be a magical place and I wanted to find out for myself.

So I packed my bags, got dropped off on the outskirts of Harare, and with a sign with 'Malawi' written on it, waited for a ride to Lake Kariba. That first section was pretty easy, I was in familiar territory, I knew Zimbabwe very well and I got a one-stop ride all the way to Kariba. After an overnight at Kariba I managed to easily gets across the board into Zambia having got a ride from a very pleasant lady and her daughter. I was in luck, as they were driving all the way to Lusaka.

However, I did not realise that they were born-again Christians (not that I take a particular dislike to born-again Christians), but they were over zealous in my protection and it took me three days to break away from their place in Lusaka. I mean, three days! They were concerned about my welfare and were trying to find me a ride, but after 48-hours it was becoming a rather painful process. I eventually persuaded them to drop me on the outskirts of Lusaka where I would try and hitch a ride through the eastern section of Zambia to the Malawi border. Unfortunately they dropped me in the afternoon – it is a six-hour drive to the border, with nothing much in between, and it was at this point that I questioned my decision-making process. I also question their decision-making, as they were concerned about my welfare and had left me in the middle of nowhere with a rather unachievable goal.

I waited. I waited in the searing heat. I waited in the searing heat and consumed most of my water. When I started drinking my second bottle of water I mentally began to look at my options. Whilst in thought, a large pristine white vehicle pulled up and a guy got out and asked me where I was going.

" Malawi," I said, "or anywhere near the border would be great."
"You are in luck," said Andy (whose name I found out later), " where are the others?"
" What others?"
"Well surely it is not just a you travelling, where are the other hitchhikers?"
"No, it is really just me."

Andy could not believe this, picked up my bag and put it in the back of the truck, whilst still looking surreptitiously into the undergrowth for the rest of my group. When he realised that I actually was travelling by myself, we set off along the potholed road towards Malawi.

"Fancy a drink? There are cold beers in the fridge." The fridge happens to be between the driver and passenger seat. Lady luck was certainly travelling with me.

I was young, I was invincible and I was so terribly naive. But I made it to Malawi (in one piece), and it is a magical country and Lake Malawi is an incredible place. I loved it so much that I spent six weeks there, and that was just the first of many a glorious time in Malawi.

'Sense' Malawi for yourself.