safarhis

When we woke up, we were still relatively warm. After tea / hot chocolate and one of the famous Botswana rusks (a combination between flapjack and biscotti), we were off with Rebecca and five of her group. Three were in Ona’s vehicle and the others, including Michelle, stayed at the lodge. Michelle later told me she had had a lie in until 11:30am which was “awesome.”

With DC at the helm, we headed once more towards the Zimbabwe border. About two hundred metres ahead, we clocked the distinctive loping gait of a hyena, running along the track like a combination of the Duracell Bunny and the Hunchback of Notre Dame. DC accelerated after it as if his very life depended on it and, though we lost the hyena, we all enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

It was difficult for DC. He was a good tracker but pickings were very slim. He loved his job. “Welcome to my office!” he would say, grinning. As Rhiannon took a photograph of a juvenile bateleur, DC gazed at the bird. “Let me just enjoy looking at that beak.” he said admiringly.

To fill the time between spotting those “dang birds”, James – the man who had engaged Rebecca – showed us videos of a previous safari they had taken featuring a crocodile performing ‘the death roll’ and two ostriches mating. Then Rebecca asked DC to stop so that she could have a photograph sitting in an elephant’s footprint. It was a very different sort of game drive.

Rebecca was the only person, possibly ever, to stay at Wildtrack and still feel peckish. She had packed snacks (cheese, jerky, m&ms and gummy bears) and happily munched her way through in between standing up and signing to the group. DC also allowed Rhiannon to sit up on the bar, with James keeping a close eye on her.

Our tea and coffee break was at the foot of a huge baobab tree. Ona explained that it had great local significance and, on certain days, crowds gather to leave offerings to their ancestors, believing them to be able to see and guide them. “Like in the Lion King,” said Rhiannon knowledgeably.

Whilst DC laid out satsumas, pears, rusks and hard boiled eggs, Brandon had retrieved a fragment of snakeskin which had been dropped by a dang bird. DC instructed Rhiannon to film him as he discussed the skin with Brandon and they identified it as being shed by a cobra.

Giving Rhiannon his number to she could send him the video, DC struggled to spell her name. Predictive text changed ‘Rhiannon’ to ‘Rhino’ in his phone and that was thenceforth what he called her. I was happy to see her laughing and chatting once again on game drives.

There was great excitement on the way back to the lodge when we spotted two impala and a warthog. If only Michelle had been there. Rhiannon took photos of little bee eaters and Rebecca uttered the immortal words, “Stop, wait! I see a dead snake …. or maybe a sock.”

Back at the lodge, we were served a large brunch and, through Rebecca, answered questions about Wales. One of the party had lived in Sussex and heard of a place in Wales with a very long place name. I found a photograph of the famous sign of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch and showed her. “Yes, that’s it!” she signed excitedly, “the longest place name in the UK.” “How do you pronounce it?” asked Rebecca. I obliged. She started to sign but gave up and asked that I speak it so the group could read my lips. I did so to general astonishment before making my way round the table offering one to one demonstrations. In all, I said it eleven times and felt as exhausted as if I had performed eleven cartwheels.

Our afternoon game drive was with Ona because the group had wanted to sit altogether. She chased down the sunset for Rhiannon to capture before a sundowner at a watering hole where we saw mosquitos for the first time and were liberally sprayed with repellent by DC who was taking pleasure in calling us Rhino and Ri-Ri at every opportunity.

Rebecca went for a wild wee and returned lugging a pair of vulture wings. Brandon was elated and arranged them carefully to display the full span. Rhiannon offered anti bac gel to all of whom touched the wings (ie not us)

DC had agreed to give a night game drive to those who wanted it. Ona drove home with those who wished to leave and Rhiannon and I asked if there was room with DC.

“Yes, he answered, a seat in the front and one up back. “

After ensuring her little Rhino was safe in the passenger seat next to DC, Ri-Ri jumped in between Billy and Michelle.

“Here we go again,” observed Michelle.

It was Michelle’s last opportunity to spot mammals. She told me that she would give anything to see a lion. Judging from the last day and half, I thought this was a fairly big ask.

The night drive, however, proved unexpectedly fruitful. For me, sitting in my middle seat warm under my blanket, Michelle’s comments made the experience.

Upon seeing a jackal struggle with the vulture wings: “Very cool!”

Upon seeing a steenbok dazed by the torchlight: “Very cool!”

Upon seeing an owl: “Cool!“

Upon seeing baboons in the trees: “Fun!”

Upon passing a tree, “Stop! I see a white mammal. Go back!” It turned out to be a dove, annoyed at being woken up.

The crowning moment came when we struggled to identify a large animal after seeing a number of giraffes and zebra. Upon hearing that the mystery guest was indeed another zebra and not a big cat, Michelle responded with feeling, “Oh bummer!”

Rhiannon, meanwhile, was having a good chat with DC. She found out about his family, his proposed new venture (a company called Nature Links) and asked his real name. When she later tried to remember what he had said, all she could recall was that the first word began with “Dis” and the second a “C”. It turned out that he had told her his name was ‘Disciplinary Committee’