Road Runners

A few nights ago I was camping by myself in the South Downs at a place called Linkenholt – not many people stay there and I only go there for Duke of Edinburgh. I was there the night before the start of a three day qualifying expedition, which I was assessing, and had the place to myself. There is no phone reception and it has that feeling of remoteness as there are no houses to be seen for miles around.

It is also a natures paradise; as I turned in to the entrance of Linkenholt there was a hare sitting about 10m away from me, busy washing its ears, then further along the track I spied a female pheasant, her camouflage blending her into the hedgerow and then a buzzard swooped out over the bonnet of my car. All this wildlife made me smile and also reminded me of how I feel when I am out in Africa. I am flying out to Swaziland today and my night at Linkenholt took me to Africa so that I could reminisce about past experiences.

The best reminder were the partridges in the middle of the track that I was driving along, they reminded me of guinea fowl, just as stupid and just as frustrating to watch whilst driving behind them. There were five partridges and as I am approached them they ran along the track in front of the car. There was a perfectly adequate grassy areas to the left and a lovely hedgerow decked with flowers on the right, but no, they continued to run along the road in front of my car. The fact that they could fly away was not an option to be considered. After 200m I pulled back and the partridges slowed down, milling around aimlessly on the track. Maybe they will choose a different route? As I moved forward again, they stayed onto the road, stressing themselves even more, until I revved the car right on their tails and this made them leap into the air with fright and simultaneously remind them of their ability to fly.

Guinea fowl also do this in Africa, except there are normally a large flock of about twenty of more. Sometimes a sensible one flies into the Africa scrub, but most of them are idiot road runners and stick to the open road until their bird brains come up with a different idea, which often takes some time. But I won't get frustrated with them when I see them tomorrow, I will relish the experience. Although this can be testing, I have been stuck behind a flock of helmeted guinea fowl for 10 minutes, watching them making every wrong decision possible whilst willing them to fly into the bush or to take the next turning on the right.

As I lay in my tent at night, I listed to the plaintive call of a lark and the rustle of some small animal outside my tent. In two days time this will swapped with the distant roar of a lion, the gentle honk of a hippo and the lull of cicadas, I can not wait.

Now, where did I leave my tent pegs?