Monday, 30 May 2011

American Idiot

Long time no blog. I left you guys in Victoria Falls and have since passed through Botswana and into Namibia. This is what I did.

I got a disease in a swimming pool. I got out and there were all these mad lumps all over me. I wasn’t allowed cook dinner and sat at the edge of the group like a ginger leper. It cleared up and I was accepted back into the group.

The following day we left civilisation to enter the heart of the Okavango Delta. We were dropped off at the collection point and there were nine or ten dugout canoes called Mokoros there waiting for us. They’re very thin and since the delta is relatively shallow, they are propelled by lads withs long sticks pushing off the riverbed. When I met my guide he said his name was Ongst but I didn’t believe him for a second because I knew he was P.Diddy. He was the exact spit of him. I accused him of being an imposter and he stared back at me as if I was the crazy one. Diddy’s like that though.

We set off and we again molested by flies as we barged through the reeds. We slowed down to be shown a large male elephant having a drink at the side. Staying true to ‘The Inner Tourist’ we happily snapped away at him. We continued on to find our camp but we stopped again about 100 yards from the elephant.
‘Another elephant?? Where is it’
‘No, this is our campsite’ Diddy replied, struggling to hold down his american accent.
This is what I signed an indemnity form for I thought. We struck up our tents faster than ever before and lit the biggest fire yet. It was then time for our evening game walk in the bush. Dids gave us a brief safety talk and told what to do if, say, we got charged. ‘Whatever you do, don’t run’. We set off with the rapstar up the front and Andos, a second guide, at the rear. We headed straight for the ellie that we saw earlier. As we were walking we noticed a guy with a camera up ahead, he was walking in the same direction as us. I assumed he was a guide himself or a National Geographic man. About 10 minutes later we found our ellie in a clearing. The camera lad was there but still a bit away from us. We stood and observed both of them. I noticed that he was waving enthusiastically and pointing at us. After a confusing 10 seconds or so, I noticed that it was a warning. I wheeled around to see three young rowdy elephants rushing out of the bush. Shit. They were heading straight for us and we immediately started walking towards the nearest cover, I was relatively calm until Andos left his position at the rear and hurriedly walked past us. That freaked me out. The three elephants kept a moderate pace until our friend who warned us began sprinting away. The elephants picked up a lotta pace, trumpeted and changed direction ever so slightly away from us and towards the American Idiot. They raged straight by us and into the bush. Andos went to fetch the longhaired gobshite from his hiding spot. He joined our group for the rest of the walk. It turns out that he’s just a normal tourist who decided to leave his campsite by himself to get some photos. He was a proper gobshite. We asked Andos that night why he overtook us and he said ‘I was trying to save my own life!’.

That night two of us were leaning against a tree beside the fire and we spotted one of the most venomous scorpions sat on the other side of the trunk, literally at eye level. We threw him in the fire.

Mother nature got her revenge on me by sending about 40 mosquitos into the tent that night. I counted 89,568 bites just on my arm the next morning. I have been taking my anti-malarials with Nazi precision since.

We stayed at the place with the disease pool and after a pathetic deliberation, I got in again. I caught the mad chlamydia rash thing again but the effects we lessened this time round. Good old immune system.

On the drive to the Namibian border our driver swerved. It was just a little one to avoid something on the road. I asked Kanyo later that day and he said it was a huge spitting cobra. I’m gona pay more attention to the swerves from now on.

I inadvertantly cut my finger on my keyboard and there’s blood everywhere.

So as we approached Namibia we were swerving a lot. I was bouncing off the walls looking for critters. We rudely halted and pulled up at the side of the road. There were no reptiles, our driver was vomiting. I then remembered that he wasn't feeling well at all earlier that day. He was at the doctors and was given the all clear, saying it was just a cold. We realised that he was very sick, and we had another 80 km to go till we got to Grootfontein, Namibia. The journey was terrifying. There were a few very hairy moments and I was literally counting down the distance. Kanyo had called ahead to the campsite to get an ambulance ready for him. At dinner that night he told us that he had to keep talking to him to keep his conciousness and our lives. We were ment to stay at that site for just the one night but it ended up being two.

Myself and the only other Irishman set out to not only to celebrate our lives but to try and find a place where they were showing the Heineken Cup Final. We were directed towards the local rugby club which seemed promising. There was South African rugby game on when we arrived and I asked this guy whether they were showing our match or not. I quickly realised that this guy was yet another moron. He was quite stocky and so I agreed with everything he said and laughed at his jokes. He said that there’s no way at all we’d be able to watch it there because there was an important Bulls vs Sharks game on. He then lifted up his sleeve to expose a Bulls tattoo. We didn’t protest. I then realised that it was quite a dodgy place filled with men that looked like they love killing deer and headbutting each other. We mentioned skydiving as some of us are interested in doing it in Swakopmund. He said he’s done 5500 dives and all the different ways that he’s done them. It ranged from the plausible ‘doing a jump in a wheelchair’ to the outrageously untrue ‘ I throw parachute out, light a cigarette, then jump out after it and put it on in the nick of time’. We conceded to the fact that we weren’t going to be viewing the match and relied on updates from friends. Unsurprisingly, many people were reluctant to tell us about the first half but 40 minutes later we were flooded with joyous and drunken texts. We had a toast to good aul Johnny in the back of a pick up truck whizzing down the motorway back towards our camp. We had decided that we were getting tanked in the name of Ireland but when we arrived back there was a very sombre mood. Our driver was diagnosed with full blown malaria. He had been wildly misdiagnosed back in Botswana. I compromised the conflicting emotions by being quiet but still getting locked. The morning we were supposed to leave and he was supposed to be released from hospital, we were told that they overdosed him on the drugs so we were further delayed. Thankfully all went well after that he has made a heroic recovery.

We bumbled on to Etosha National Park, our last one. On our first game drive we saw the awkward stance that giraffe adapt whilst drinking and a mother lioness transport 4 month old cubs across the plain. They waddled along in single file behind their mama parallel to our truck. An unholy amount of photos had been taken when she reached the thick shrubbery and deposited the simbas.

The campsite we stayed that night was bang in the middle of the National Park and is run by the Namibian government. The jewel in the crown of that site is the waterhole. It's floodlit and about a 5 minute walk away so we brought some beers and our sleeping bags and waited to see what would come. An elephant apparated and so did two rhino. We watched in silence and fascination. We got sleepy as we were up very early and decided to hit the sack. At half twelve I was awoken to the sound of two male lions fighting. I jumped out of my tent and legged it to the waterhole. The winner was sitting with his ladies. He was still screaming at his opponent in the distance, It sounded like a v8 engine right in your ear. I sat and watched for a good while. The male got up and we all saw his battlewounds. He had the filthiest limp going and I reckon he’s good as dead now. As I was getting back into my tent I looked across at another tent and saw the fly sheet being ripped off abruptly, I then saw a jackal run away behind the tent. What a lil messer.

A cheetah licked my knee. We visited a family of brothers who keep cheetahs, wild and tame. They have 3 tame ones that are literally like big housecats. They have them just wandering around the house. There were 16 wild ones in a 250 hectare enclosure. So we all went in to see the tame ones. I was sitting on the doorstep when one came straight of my knee. She gave it a few good licks and went on her way. One of them got a bit playful and took a small chunk outta one of the lads’ foot. It was then time for the feeding of the wild cheetahs. We entered the enclosure and drove around for a while to ensure all the cats knew it was dinnertime. We were told of this one old cheetah who lost and eye to a venomous snake. When she arrived, all the others had a go at her asserting their dominance. She was visibly skinnier than the rest and at the bottom of the pecking order. 16 cheetahs circled us as the brothers were throwing out chunks of giraffe to them. They each got a slab and raced off to eat in peace. The cheetah with the gammy eye got a surprisingly large piece surprisingly early and we were all happy for her. That night we all gathered in a super slick bar that the brothers built. We hovered around the pool table getting the cans into us when one of the lads challenged us to a game, but with no cue. Instead he produced a broom handle that had about 89,568 splinters on it. For fear of looking uncool we played them. By the end we all supported a small forest inside our hands.
‘OK, So the next game is this. Whoever pots the white ball has to take it out of the table at the end’
That’s pretty standard I thought, until he whipped out a stick of dynamite and placed it in the hole. Yet more maniacs in my presence. We all had a hearty chuckle and I went to bed soon after hoping my tent was outside the blast radius.

I saw the largest recorded meteorite and a 5000 year old cave painting. I’ll leave it at that because there’s no animals involved.

I just had three nights in Swakopmund, Namibia. We were thinking of doing skydiving there but we were told that all skydiving had been halted for the last month. Upon further probing we found that some guy’s emergency parachute didn’t work last month and he splatted into the desert. So I settled for sandboarding, quadbiking and snake hunting. We climbed a 90 metre high sand dune so we could board down it. After a bit of swaying and falling, I got the hang of it and my coolness levels increased. I did a run on a lie down board and the speed gun clocked me at 73 km/hr. That was good craic and I’d have done it a lot more if I wasn’t so knackered from climbing the dune all day. I had a monster lunch and prepared for quad biking. Our guide looked like he stepped straight off the set of Jackass 4. We covered 60 km altogether and it was the best non-animal thing I’ve done here. Jackass-man spent more time on two wheels than four. Gravity wasn’t an issue for him.

We watched the Champion’s League Final in a Man Utd pub. It was packed to start with then by the final whistle it was empty.

Yesterday I went snake hunting in the desert. Tommy was the guide and he knew his stuff. We were about 30 seconds in when we found the venomous Horned Adder and I did my first ever backflip with all the excitement. We saw amazing creatures and more snakes and I was properly in my element.

I am so cold right now with 5 layers and a sleeping bag. This desert climate messes with your head.

It’s the beginning of the end now as I only have another 10 days here.

Silar erbody



Saturday, 14 May 2011

Mika, Gumboots and a Cow Foetus.


I found myself trying to see if my camera’s facial recognition technology would think my nipples, belly button and flab line was a face. It was a rare moment of boredom from the last week or so.

I did a bungy jump on Friday the 13th. It’s a jump off a bridge that connects the two sides of Victoria Falls and the third highest in the world at 111 metres. The bungyman was fitting all the attachments to my legs and I was grumbling various profanities in an attempt to calm my nerves. This made him slightly pissed off. He told me that ‘this is a Christian bridge’. At that precise moment he was the most important person in my life and I managed to anger him. I thought about this as he gave the countdown. Thankfully, he spared my life. As I fell, I made a noise that I’d never heard before. It was an involuntary sound that was somewhere in between a wailing baby and a heavy session on the toilet. During the freefall, every single cell in my body was tensed. As soon as I felt that glorious tension at my feet I was absolutely saturated in adrenaline. There’s nothin’ like hurling yourself off a bridge in Africa.

I went rhino trekking in Matapos National Park the other day. Our guide for the day, Ian, was awarded the second best safari guide in Southern Africa and he was fantastic. We set off in the open top jeep and entered the park. We’d be driving down the sandy track when Ian would slam on the brakes and jump out to inspect footprints. We were tracking Gumboots. Gumboots is a 47 year old, 2 and a half tonne, male rhinoceros. When we looked at the road we saw sand and twigs, when Ian looked he saw CCTV footage of what was there and what it was doing. Ian spotted Gumboots’ distinctive print. It was fresh. We hopped out and began walking. Gumboots was there, about 100 yards away from us and he was absolutely ginormassive. I thought we were going to stay at a very respectable distance but Ian kept walking closer and closer. We had to crouch and whisper. The closest we got to Gumboots was a ridiculous 15 or so yards. I scanned the area for the nearest climbable tree as the threat of a charge was very real. We stayed with him for about 20 minutes and left because he became slightly edgy and twitchy. We backed away and headed back towards the jeep. We had been walking for literally about two minutes before we were greeted by ‘The Terrible Twins’. These are two 6 year old rhinos that would labeled as ‘A pair of messers’ in Ireland. Ian was saying that a six year rhino is very similar to an eighteen year old human in terms of attitude. Nothing ever messed around with Gumboots because he was an established alpha male so he was relatively calm and assured. The Terrible Twins however were not so friendly. We stopped and crouched at Ian’s instructions. They were very on edge. There’s a huge problem with poachers in Matopos where 25 of them are arrested/killed every month. They have a shoot on site policy. This January, there were 6 rhino killed and incidently a few poachers shot. One kilo of rhino horn is worth 50,000 USD and the average horn would weigh 10 to 12 kilos. The Asians believe that it’s a powerful aphrodisiac. Ian reckoned that there will be no Zimbabwean rhino in 5 years time. Anyway, The Terrible Twins got a bit too close. One of them stared and then, with surprising agility, jumped backwards and trotted a few yards. That was a hair raising few seconds. It was 50:50 between charging and backing away. Heads or tails. That was the most exhilerating thing I’ve ever done. I was genuinely blown away by it and I was on a high for days afterwards.

My anti-malarials are giving me some very vivid dreams. The devil has tried to barter for my soul, I had a stand-off with a German sniper circa 1944, I was told that Chelsea beat United whilst skiing in the Alps and The Lads have bought an overland truck of our own to explore the world in.

Actually, lads, get on to that last one for real life. That’d be good craic.

I lived on Lake Kariba for 2 days. We were in this impressive houseboat and we had it all to ourselves. We brought an unholy amount of alcohol and had an almighty session on the first night. Previously, we had all bought shirts for each other in a secret santa style. The rule was ‘The uglier the better’. It was so easy to find them in the markets and there were some absolute gems. We wore them for the first night and we played some great drinking games. I woke up the next morning and looked outside and saw hippos and a crocodile. The lake was infested with them but we were still allowed to jump off. Captain Anderson parked up in the middle of the lake and we were diving off the three storey boat. I still have all my limbs. We were then told that there were a few man eating crocs who follow fishing boats in search of a free meal. There was a man who lost an arm whilst cleaning the rudder of his boat recently. And there I was doing cannonballs..

On our first day in Zimbabwe we stayed in a camp with a lotta baboons and vervet monkeys. I climbed a tree and left this handcrafted zebra in it. 10 minutes later, the monkeys were going mental. They’d spotted the zebra and were very scared and perplexed about it. I watched them scream and panic but then I had to take it down because headaches were beginning to develop. That night the Zimbabwean national football team had a party on the campsite because they beat Malawi earlier on. At about 3 in the morning I awoke to find that the tent had become colonised by ants. They were everywhere and we spent the guts of an hour co-ordinating an insect genocide. More headaches were developed.

I have done a lot of walks in my life. To school, to Centra, to the bus stop, to Cian’s gaff, to the kitchen and so on. I walked with two lions a few days ago. They’re called Mara and Mika. ALERT is a programme which takes captive lions and through several stages and generations it eventually delivers wild lions back into Africa. The lion walk involves the handlers taking them out for stroll to experience all the sights and smells and we paid to come with. We were given sticks to carry and use if the lions got ‘cheeky’. We were told that the lion would come out of the enclosure and approach us, it would then select one of us and come to brush up against our legs as a greeting. We were instructed to show a respectable resistance and stay strong if this happened. I was chosen. I was standing on a slope with my legs together. I’ve done Leaving Cert Physics but I still managed to orientate myself in this unstable stance. Mika gave me generous brush and I had to shuffle a leg backwards to keep me upright. Mara kept her distance because she was worringly new to the process. We walked through the savanna accompanied by the sunset and a pair of lions. We arrived back at the enclosure and they happily went in for a snooze.

I played with two lion cubs on Tuesday. One of them was born around the time I arrived in Africa. They are undoubtedly the most adorable organisms on the planet. We teased them with bits of ribbon, let them chew on someones shoe, stroked them and took inumerable photos. There was a woman there telling us various facts and figures about them but I was too absorbed in the whole experience to hear a word of what she was talking about.

I saw 9 fully grown male lions feed on a chopped up cow carcass. The most dominant males took the best cuts. One lion, that was right beside the fence, had the stomach. We were watching him chomping on guts when he bit the stomach open. We then realized that it was a uterus, not a stomach, because a large cow foetus slid out. The lion was delighted and the others were jealous. We then witnessed a robbery. A superior charged over and stole the juicy baba. In doing so he managed to splash us with the pungent uterus juice. Mmmmmm. The guy who owns the place and co-ordinates the breeding programme had his arm ripped off by a lion 5 years ago. The ‘Lion Manager’ has a seriously wonky knee after a similar attack. Think I might go back there and do vet stuff, however I appreciate my limbs.

The lions served as my alarm clock for 3 mornings. They’d roar from about 5 to 7 o clock every morning. It beats anything on a Nokia anyway.

There’s a guy called Zaid who keeps snakes that he finds. I paid five dollars for a tour of his reptile room. Anybody who knows me well would know that I’m a whore when it comes to serpents. I’d pay a serious amount of money to speak parsel-tongue. The first thing I noticed was a pair of goggles beside a cage. I asked what was in there and he told me that it was a Mozambique Spitting Cobra. He also has an Egyptian Banded Cobra and he has ordered in a Bloomslang. When he told me that there was no antivenom in Zimbabwe I realised that he was a proper maniac. He had several other harmless snakes that were beautiful but keeping snakes that would definately kill you if it got a bite in on you is nonsensical to me.

Before we left Matapos, Ian stopped the jeep to tell us about a plant called ‘Bushman’s Tea’. He said that if you crushed the leaves, made a tea with it and drank it that all your senses would be noticeably heightened. After assuring us that it was very safe and whatnot he jumped out and cracked off a huge branch of it for us. There was a big Bob Marley party here last night and we made the tea. Mom, Dad, I did drugs. It was good craic. We listened to ‘Buffalo Soldiers’ and felt alert for the night.

The town that I’m in right now has an elephant problem. They come in and destroy trees and fences. We saw fresh dung today on the road right outside the camp. I never thought that I’d be so excited over a pile of shit.

I got myself a 100 billion Zimbabwean dollar note. Somebody should tell Bruno Mars.

A load of South African lads just came into this bar to watch the rugby and they were shouting in Africaans. One of them started telling us what they’d been saying and they’ve been spewing racial abuse at one of the staff. The staff don’t know because they don’t speak the language but it’s left us feeling horrified. Our tour leader has told that from now on the discrimination will get worse, especially in the German colony of Swakopmund in Namibia. I’m just so grateful that myself and the people in my life haven’t been indoctrinated with this sort of attitude.

I’m heading into Botswana tomorrow and then into the Namib Desert. This trip is going far too fast.

P.S. My camera didn’t think my torso was a face...


Monday, 2 May 2011

And This Little Piggy Went to Malawi

I was talking to a Giant Land Tortoise that was born 20 years before the famine. He turns 190 this year. I fed him cabbage and stroked his head. He lives on Prison Island with about 100 friends of all ages. They were majassive, If you were to take off one of their shells and fill it with water, I reckon you could have a comfortable bath in it. We had to leave to get a tour about the stupid history of the island. Of course I already knew everything because the tortoise told me.

Zanzibar has a lot of Islamic culture and the locals wear all the veils and funny hats and stuff. As we were waiting for the ferry, I noticed these very intricate and detailed henna markings on an elderly lady’s hand. The floral patterns climbed up her fingers and were immaculately done. In mid-admiration she suddenly shoved one straight up her nose and began digging for a different type of culture. She showed no shame and produced a spectacular blobba snot. It took her a few attempts to flick it onto the ground. Erbody loves a bitta snothuntin’.

We arrived in Zanzibar in the early afternoon to be greeted by the promised white sands and turquoise waters. We lazed, sunbathed, played, swam, ate and drank. Great start. Then the next day happened. It was all downhill from there. The majority of us had various cases of food poisoning, stomach bugs and fevers. My digestive system went on strike and I had to retire to my bungalow for a 24 hour lie down. Our dorm room turned into a hospital ward hosting all of us invalids. I missed my turtle swim. Devastated. However, We are organizing our great white shark dive for a grand finale in Cape Town. I still haven’t fully recovered but I gotta reliable drug crutch (Thanks Mom).

Half the Tanzanian Army were on the ferry with us coming back from Zanzibar Island. They were incredibly disorderly and schooltrip-like. They were pushing and shoving and sweating and smelling. They had DVD players, LCDs, Blu-Rays and one even had a fridge. The only positive of having them there with us was that they played Commando inside. Arnold was wrecking up the gaff.

I slaughtered a pig yesterday all by myself wearing my big boy pants. I got up at 6 because it takes the whole day to spit roast her properly. I took the biggest knife from the truck and went just outside the front of the campsite. Our pigman was waiting there with a 3 month old piggy all tied up on the grass. There was no messing around as he just showed me whereabouts the heart was. I went through its rib cage and had a lil fiddle around. I’d had a few the night before and the squealing certainly made me more aware of that. She bled out for a while and after a few irratic spasms, she sadly passed away, we did everything we could (except not stab her in the heart). I helped skin and gut it and I had a look at the heart and I got right it in the meat. Gwan Hugh.

I’m currently in Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi, and I’m entering Zambia tomorrow. The highlights in the near future include two nights on houseboats on Lake Kariba and a walk with lions in Zimbabwe. There’s a free pool table and some patriotic Yanks up for a good night tonight so I’m off to miscue and talk shite about global politics.

Silar Erbody

Thursday, 21 April 2011

I'm Bringin' Silver Back



His name is Agashya. He’s the dominant male of a family of 25 wild mountain gorillas. I was hanging out with him this day last week, he’s pretty sound once you get to know him. Our tracker had a blatant disregard for the ‘7 metre distance rule’ as we were only about a foot and a half from the 200 kilogram bigman. He sat at the top of the hillside keeping an eye on his relatives whilst stylishly stripping a bamboo branch. When we first arrived the tracker let out a series of a grumbly ‘hmmmmhmmmms’ to let him know it was him and everything was ok. He was talking to a gorilla. Dr. Hughlittle had a rival. We saw the females, juveniles, blackbacks and babies. It was indisputely the quickest hour of my life.

There’s a church about 100 yards from our hostel where hundreds of innocent Rwandans were murdered 17 years ago. They all had sought refuge there thinking it was safe from the rebels but they threw hand grenades into the building and shot anyone who managed to flee. There’s a picture in the Genocide Museum of this church’s courtyard where there is a carpet of corpses left to decay. There are thousands of these individual stories that are spine-shudderingly horrific. Stories of neighbours, co-workers and even family members turning on each other due to dilligent propaganda and successful hate-rallies. This genocide wasn’t just contained to a few pockets of violence within the country, everywhere in Rwanda was ruthlessly devastated. When we’re driving through the villages it’s pretty much a fact that everyone we see was directly affected. These people were inflicted with a substantial trauma that none of us will ever experience. I didn’t want to use the phrase ‘put into perspective’ but next time something small and insignificant is upsetting you, try to consider the plight of these people and how much you have to be thankful for.

We had our first sleep in Tanzania last night. It’s a guesthouse run by the chief of police for the town of Nyakanazi and the locals were certainly not used to Muzungu presence. Moses says that the stretch from here to Zanzibar is raw Africa, Kenya and Uganda are a bit more tourist savvy. A lad called Johnbosco gave us a tour around Nyakanazi, we walked through the markets with chickens, goats, donkeys and cows everywhere. After about 10 minutes of walking, we turned around to our very own entourage composed entirely of children. A simple thumbs up put them in fits of giggles. They followed us right back to the big garda man’s gaff and stood at the gate just watching us.

I don’t see many mirrors throughout the day here. So my beard has surprised me twice. I’ll be ready for him next time.

In a space of 5 minutes, I found a chameleon, had a beer bought for me and was told there was a Chelsea match on in the bar. I nearly imploded. We watched the Blues win and the Manchester derby and then got ready for our first African night out on the town. The club was called ‘Lips’ and we were advised to be there by half nine. We were the only ones there for about two hours. Within those two hours I got two tours of the place from a giant man.
‘This is the dancefloor, that’s where you dance’
‘Yeah, cool, gotcha’
‘There’s the DJ, he plays the music’
‘Oh right yeah’

There’s a reason he’s a security guard and not a tour guide. As we were sitting there having a drink watching the Real Madrid-Barcelona match (projected onto the wall at the back for some reason) waiting for more people to arrive, there was a blackout. If someone had approached me this time last year and said;
‘Hugh, this time next year you’ll be in Mwanza in Tanzania, in a club with 6 people you just met, hoping Ronaldo doesn’t score, in the pitch black silence..’. I’d have said
‘Who are you and how do you know my name?’. I also wouldn’t have believed him. When we left the place was packed and if this was an Irish essay I’d avoid the phrase ‘Bhì sè dubh le daoine’ for fear that it may be misconstrued.

We’ve been eating Ugali, they call it N’Shima further south. It’s maize meal mixed with water and some butter. It’s regarded as the principal foodstuff of Africa and I love it. It’s got consistency like mashed potato but very springy and a bit stickier. It’s a perfect student food. You can have with anything and I’d say it’s very cheap. You’ve seen it here first, I’m bringing Ugali to the light-walleted youth of Ireland. There’ll be one difference though. Ireland will refer to it as Hughgali.

For the last three nights I have stayed in three different bush camps. The first was on the outskirts of the fenceless Serengeti National Park. We all signed up to do a game drive that night. We set out with an impressive spotlight in search for the nocturnal creatures. We were about 30 yards from our site when we found a bush full of hyenas. They were very shy and as we were waiting for them to poke a head out when the guide found a baby chameleon on a branch. He let me play with him for a while before we moved on. We saw a serval, African wildcats, a bushbaby and the very rarely seen aardvark. Google ‘serval’, She’s sexy.

During the campfire that night, a man apparated at our camp. He had a stern look on his face, a trenchcoat kinda thing and a bow and arrow. He lit himself a fire and prepared himself for a night of Muzungu guarding. He only had three arrows and we asked him what happens if four lions come, to which he replied ‘I’ll get two with one’. He was probably as cool as those rafting guys.

We did a morning game drive in the Serengeti yesterday, still no leopard. However, we saw an encounter involving a hungry male lion and an isolated mamma buffalo with her calf. The lion kept lunging for the calf only to be charged by the mom. This happened a good few times before a brigade of the biggest bravest male buffalo broke off from the herd to rescue the distressed pair and they succeeded. It was proper National Geographic stuff. On top if that we saw a herd of elephants that had at least 70 members. They were everywhere, there was even a hippo invited to the party. The younger ellies were chasing the poor blob all over the place.

On our way to our second bush camp we were assaulted by Tsetse flies. They’re nasty bloodsucking little ****s (those stars are for you grandma). It’s a sharp sting and they can get you through clothes. I’d take mosquitoes over tsetse flies any day of the week. When we got there we lit a fire to repel them and people starting getting ready for showers. Moses was the first to walk over for one and next thing I heard was ‘HE-OOOOOO!’. Mo was calling me in his thick Kenyan accent. I legged it over to him and when I arrived, he said ‘Green Mamba’. I saw an acid green snake desperately trying to climb the trunk of an acacia. If there was no such thing as neurotoxic venom, I would have kissed her right there and then. I sat at the bottom of the tree watching her for ages when she finally summited it. I need to have a serious word with St. Patrick sometime soon. Hyenas watched me, and laughed at me, from a bush as I cooked sausages that evening and the next morning there was a buffalo behind the shower so we had to be extra extra careful.

Last night we stayed at Simba camp on the edge of the Ngorongoro crater.  We pitched the tents beside three grazing zebra. We were told that where there’s prey there’s predators, also there was a high chance of elephants coming in the night. We had a campfire and a few beers, we chased some zebra around the field and went to bed. One of the girls heard a loud growl at three o’clock and didn’t go back to sleep.  Unfortunately I slept through it.

I’m currently in Arusha and shall be on Zanzibar Island on Saturday. The men are heading out for a testoterone filled day of big game fishing while the ladies go off and play with Barbie dolls or something girly like that. There’ll be snorkelling, diving, turtle and dolphin swimming, seafood BBQ’s (I’m there) and hopefully a full moon party. There’s an island to the north that is the world capital of voodoo. So if you suddenly keel over or fly into a wall, try to be nicer to me in the future.

Tonight is Moses’ last night with us so we’re planning to go out on a bender. Kanyo is the name of the tour leader taking over. Kanyo is taking us West, I’ll use that one to break the ice later. We have more reason to celebrate as we have four newbies joining us and our big yellow truck. Tomorrow will mark four weeks since I left so there’s another reason to celebrate. It’s gonna be a messy one.

Silar erbody

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Hungry Hungry Hippos

I’ve had a few weeks in my life where the highlight has been finding a fiver outside Spar or catching the start of a Come Dine With Me omnibus. This last week has been different.

It turns out that we volunteered to paint a few classrooms in a primary school rather than an orphanage. We whizzed through the work and three rooms later we had a break. Then it happened. Lunchtime. There were gazillions of children pouring in from every available point of entry into the yard. There were shrieks of excitement when we showed them pictures of themselves, and a short video created even more ri ra agus ruaille buaille (yes, I remember that one). We messed around with the lads until they had to go back to class.

We returned to our campsite and got ready for our night out on the all-you-can-drink booze cruise. It was a bloodbath. We paid $15 for two hours and loaded ourselves with the most expensive mixes available, just because we could. As we left the boat at 7 o’clock, the night was pretty much over for many of us. They were helped into their tents while the rest of us tried to watch the Champions League whilst remaining concious.

The people that I’m here with are great craic. There’s only nine of us now with more to join in a week or two. The variety ranges from a crazy Kiwi dental nurse to an American who has served within the highest ranks of the U.S. army for the past 35 years.

We had one of the tents slashed by some messer looking for something to rob. Luckily there was nothing in it but it was a bit of a wake up call for us. I would have just opened the zip and had a look in, I’ve no idea why he needed to cut the side open. The Zorro of Uganda isn’t going to be listening to my ipod anytime soon anyway.

We’ve stayed at few dingy campsites during the week. I walked into the bar of one particular site and thought it was a waiting room for an Ikeaphobic dentist. One of the showers looked like the Chokey out of Matilda and there was a very loud party on across the road where they only played Lionel Richie.

‘Hello? Is it me you’re looking for?’. Yes, actually. I’m looking for you to shut your face so I can go to sleep thank you.

Queen Elizabeth National Park was great but still no leopard. I literally scanned every single tree we passed only to see a few leopard shaped nests and branches. On top of that, the only snake I’ve seen is on my Nokia. I’m not expecting nature to present these to me and I’m more than willing to draw upon my patience and wait until she’s ready to grace me with a big juicy python or something.

Hippos tend to stay submerged in a lake or river during the day and come ashore to graze during the night. The name of the latest place we stayed at was called ‘Hippo Hill Campsite’. It is situated beside the Kazinga Channel which has a generous population of the fat herbivores. I assume that you’ve guessed where this is going. We were not allowed to go to the bathroom alone or pitch your tent near any yummy grass patches. It was very strongly recommended that you had a powerful torch on you at all times. I was at the bar and I asked the guy serving me if the hippos often grazed on the site and he responded with ‘Yeah, obviously...’. Coming to and from the bar I didn’t see any but I did wake up in the early hours to a loud grunt. They weren’t far away at all.

The morning before we arrived at the hippo camp we stopped off in Mbarara to get lunch and dinner supplies. Moses, the tour leader, was negotiating with this street vendor who produced a rather confused looking chicken. Moses nodded and starting flicking through his wallet and then waited for about 5 minutes. The vendor returned with a bag and the standard transaction process occurred.
‘Mo, what’s for dinner tonight?’
‘Chicken, bro’
Awesome.

When we arrived at the camp we were greeted by zounds of flies which undergo a population explosion once a month. They chose that day to do this, just for us. They were absolutely everywhere. There were clouds that seemed to actively stalk you and unceremoniously smother you at any moment. I’d say I ingested about a kilogram of them in one night. I still had some space in my tummy for that chicken though. We are to be spit roasting a pig in Malawi and Mo said I can help slaughter it if I want to, I want to. I’m a carnivore before a veterinarian.

I’m currently in Ruhengeri in Rwanda. It’s amazing how much the landscape is changing as we’re go along. Kenya was full of dry savanna, littered with Acacia trees. In Uganda everything got a lot greener, it’s a very noticeable difference. Then when we hit the Rwandan countryside we were suddenly driving through this incredible mountainous terrain. It’s G-day tomorrow. We are to be sharing the same air with a wild family of gorillas. This is due to be a certain highlight of my entire trip, I’ve been counting down the days since Nairobi. I’m gonna be hopping outta my bed at 5 o’clock tomorrow so I better go. I’ll let y’all know how I get on with another post on Thursday.

Silar erbody.


Tuesday, 5 April 2011

Bleedin' Rapid

I wore my knickers that have green and orange shamrocks covering them for the Kenya-Uganda border, just in case my passport wasn't good enough for the lads with AK47's. There was a 10 km queue of lorries and trucks trying to cross, thankfully we overtook them and crossed without having to reveal my undergarments. We stopped for lunch just inside Uganda and I went out to a bush to make yellow. I noticed a few ants trying to avoid the new river on their terrain. Without having took much notice of them I got back on the bus. I felt a little sting on my thigh after I sat down. I investigated but found no culprit. The next 20 minutes involved the same style stings on various parts of my pelvic region, and I mean various. After about the 5th sting I realised it was a particularly curious ant that was sick of life in his nest and wanted to live on me. I kept trying to catch him but it turns out he's more elusive then that leopard we still haven't seen. I prepped myself for the next attack. He tasted my hip and I caught him with ninja precision. I looked at the massive mandibles he sported and threw him out the window. Maybe his colony feed on shamrocks, and he thought he found a gold mine.

More exciting things have happened besides the ant incident believe it or not. I went White Water Rafting yesterday.

The very first thing I saw in our 'Nile River Explorers' campsite was a lady with a head bandage and a sling.

Hmmm...

Despite the potential broken limbs, we agreed to do it in the morning. I think it should be called Lung Water Rafting. It was insane. First of all we were introduced to the coolest men in Africa. If I was an African woman, I marry one and then go out to find more women to marry him also because they're that cool. They did a great job of scaring the knickers off us (normal ones that day) before we hit a rapid. " The rapids are scary, and I'm scared because I've been on them before, the worst one is Rapid Number 9 ". The guide then gave us a series of specific instructions on how to orientate ourselves and lean when we hit this particular rapid. We nodded and practiced but were glad we had time to get used to everything before we hit 'Deathbed' as he called it. We were getting ready for the first whitewater of the day, when we were about 10 metres from the angry stretch, the guide shouted over the crashing water and the sound of our hearts beating out of our chests 'SHIT, REMEMBER I SAID RAPID NO 9? I MEANT RAPID NUMBER 1! HAHAHAHA!'

Right, ok.

It was about a 3 metre vertical drop. We miraculously stayed upright and rescued a few lads who fell out. There were 7 more to go. Altogether we flipped 4 times and spent about a minute and a half 'surfing'. Surfing is basically when you get stuck in a crazy hole of water going in all sorts of directions, I'm sure there are some good videos on Youtube.

I emerged with only oxygen bothering my lungs. We had a massive barbeque and celebrated our lives.

The alcohol is outrageously cheap here. It's about 30 cent a beer and about 1 euro 20 cent for a spirit and a mixer. These prices combined with a very convenient bar tab system has made for two great nights with two to follow. People swear by drinking loads of water, a good old fry up, a box of paracetemol or a vitamin supplement to get rid of a hangover. I'm now going to recommend whitewater rafting instead.

Today we went into Jinja to see what it's like. We didn't take a bus or a taxi, we took motorbikes. We were the most badass Muzungus in Uganda for a while. The locals call them Boda Boda's. It has to be a direct translation from 'mad bastards who have no regard for physics and helmets'. My body thought it was back on the Nile with amount of bumps on that journey, it was like whitewater rafting except when you fell into the river you get a few coughs, not a coffin. For the way home, we all wanted more Boda Boda's.

As I'm writing this I'm watching about 4 or 5 eagles circling the grassland/beach. Earlier, I saw one dive and come back up with a mouse and eat it in the tree beside me. I usually have Judge Judy on in the backround when I'm at home. No prizes for the genius who knows which one I prefer.

We're helping to paint an orphanage tomorrow, which is followed by an all-you-can-drink booze cruise. An odd combination, I know. I'm really looking forward to seeing the kids tomorrow. Every kid I've seen has looked, open-mouthed, at my hair before waving and shouting frantically. I asked Moses, our guide, about this and he said the vast majority have never seen anything like it. I'm a rare species.

I'm going to be watching the Champion's League in the local pub tonight. Seems like a fairly standard sentence back home yeah? But in Uganda it means I'm going to be in a corrugated iron shack with only dodgy homebrewed beer in buckets. I think I'll get some pocket change and buy my beer for the night here.

I've been given a nickname. I like it. They call me 'Dr. Hughlittle' because I can talk to animals.

I'm off to get my camera and look for some.

Silar erbody.

Saturday, 2 April 2011

Hakuna Matata

It means no worries, for the rest of your days. I was told that this is Africa in a nutshell when I arrived. They clearly didn’t factor in the herd of elephants that casually passed through our campsite at half three in the morning. We were told not to have any toothpaste with us in our tent as you would be introduced to the trunk of a 2 tonne creature. They stomped through the site trumpeting and ripping branches off the shrubs, I was just waiting for the sole of one of them to turn my chest into a puddle of bones, blood and organs. Never mind the Hyenas and Jackals buzzing around outside the tent too. The local dogs were barking their faces off because there was a leopard sleazin’ around the gaff. What about when a vervet monkey lunged at me for my Oreo? Or when I was eating my lunch on a rock in Lake Nakuru National Park and the guide said he saw a cobra basking on the same rock earlier in the week?
           
Hakuna My-arse-a.

In fairness though, I live for these kind of encounters, my cells are hardwired to excrete pure joy from such events. I’m one of those freaks, I know.

We’ve been very lucky with our game drives so far. I’ve seen zillions of things that have left me wide-eyed and grinning. It’s baby season in terms of the animals, they tend to coincide with the rainy season to ensure the best possible survival rate. This combined with an off-season time of year for safari goers means we have often had baby elephants playing all to ourselves. Yesterday, I saw a lil baba rhino following his mammy around the plains. On our first drive, about an hour in, we found a bush with 9 lion cubs, literally in a pile. They flinched when our gargantuan yellow truck bumbled up beside them but then settled down in time for a photo shoot. The parents were completely inaminate on the other side. We turned around a corner and there was a huge leopard tortoise plonked in the middle of the track, she just stared at us for about 10 minutes then plodded off entirely unphased.We are still to spot a leopard, they’re very elusive and blend in well to they’re surroundings. I reckon we’ll see one in the Serengeti in two weeks time.
           

9 of us took to the bikes, as we did a safari through Hell’s Gate National Park. The were jamassive rock faces everywhere, one particular plateau was the inspiration behind Pride Rock in The Lion King. There were loadsa warthogs and giraffe there as they removed the lions 14 years ago. We got to The Gorge and went for a walk in this amazing passage way. I was expecting Lara Croft or Indiana to jump out at us.

We did a walking safari in the predator-free Green Crater Lake National Park. We were strolling along a dirt track with thick vegetation on the left, next thing I knew, a pair of Maasai giraffe galloped out about 30 yards ahead. We oohed and awwed as they elegantly ambled ahead. We approached zebra and more giraffes, one of which was lying down which is unusual, and they gave a surprisingly short distance toleration. It was absolutely incredible.
                         
It’s not just animals here, there are humans too. It’s impossible to drive through a village and not be welcomed with a smile and a wave. It happens so frequently that I have a left and right hand alternation system in place as to not wear them out. There’s carnage when we pass a primary school. We’re like a gang of Justin Beibers on Grafton Street giving out free kisses. The children must be taught to greet Muzungus with ‘How are you? How are you? Hah Wah You?’. It turns into an adorable little chant. The look on their face when you reply with ‘I’m great thanks, how are you?’ is confusion mixed with excitement, they then suddenly turn shy and scurry away. I’m pretty sure they haven’t learned the second line of Muzungu conversation yet.
           
To-o-day is Friday, tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday is afterwuuurds. I’m going to be in Jinja (insert self-deprecating joke about my hair colour here) in Uganda on Sunday, the second country of my expedition. I'm going to be whitewater rafting on the Nile there.

I’m the busy town of Nakuru at the moment, I gotta go get some lunch from the stalls. Wish me, and my digestive system, good luck.

Silar erbody.