14th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

Stepping out of the aircraft, the dry heat felt like a solid wall after the airconditioning and I laughed with the pleasure of it. Inside the tiny airport building of Mfuwe there was quite a bustle as all the passengers seemed to have somebody picking them up. A serious-looking young Zambian asked what camp we were going to and when I said “Tafika”, he grinned and introduced himself as Alex, our driver and guide for the transfer to the camp. We extricated our bags from the pile and walked out to the car, a dependable-looking Land Cruiser. Alex handed us a welcome cold drink and then went away to radio the camp. A few minutes later, he returned to ask whether we’d like to join a game drive. Never having turned down a game drive, we said “Yes, please!” with enthusiasm and Alex went off to relay the information.

14th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

Alex said that this first bit of tarmac road we were on “is not long, then it will be a dirt road, the part we all enjoy.” This pronouncement made Alex even more likeable. So many old friends to see along the way, a grey heron stood motionless beside a stream stalking fish, a little further on a pied kingfisher hovered, wings a blur, also hunting fish. Blue waxbills and queleas flew out of the long grass in small flocks, white browed sparrow weavers -looking exactly like sparrows except for a rakish white line above the eye- fluttered up from the ground where they’d been foraging. Red-billed and grey hornbills zoomed across the road, their flight pattern distinctive. They flapped their wings for a while, then glided but the weight of their large beaks seemed to pull them into a nose-dive so they started flapping again. Every time I see them I have to smile.

14th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

When we reached camp, we were taken us to our “house”. It was built of reeds, the front facing the river was open, no windows, no glass, no air conditioning, wonderful! I immediately fell in love with the bathroom that was open-air and had a massive Kigelia tree growing out of it, the kind of tree one could talk to. There was a fat spider sitting on the outside of the mosquito net that enclosed the bed but since it was on the outside I decided not to bother with it. Perhaps it would disappear while we were at dinner. The dinner table was outside under the stars, how lovely! The food and the company were so very pleasant that we had no time to be tired but on a full stomach exhaustion after the long trip set in quite soon.

14th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

After dinner I was far too tired to worry about the fat spider that was still sitting on the mosquito net. I checked the bed for creepy-crawlies and lay on top of the covers listening. As exhausted as I was, I couldn't sleep because there was so much going on around me, the night was incredibly alive. Hippos honked and bellowed in the river just in front of the house, elephants rumbled and trumpeted nearby, lions roared, nightjars called, mostly the Mozambique nightjars with their monotonous call that sounds like tiny engines. Then there were the fruit bats squeaking in the Kigelia that gave the bathroom shade. Egyptian geese honked as they were disturbed, jackals yipped and wailed, hyenas whooped and cackled, frogs croaked and plinked and grunted.

14th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

I tried to count sheep, hippos, pukus and finally dozed off only to wake again very soon at a curious, very regular chomping sound close by along with the movements of a heavy body. I concluded that it must be a hippo munching at the green grass of the lawn. I fell asleep again but not for long because there was a rustling, creaking noise that sounded suspiciously as if it was coming from the reed wall of the hut. As my eyes adapted to the soft light of stars, moon and a petroleum lantern turned low on the veranda, I saw that part of the side wall of the bedroom was bulging inwards and creaking ominously. A hippo having a a good old scratch! I imagined that I could see its eyes closed blissfully as it rubbed its fat bum! When I finally fell asleep for an hour or so, the ground hornbills were already awake and giving off their booming calls that carry for miles.

15th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

When the night watchman called “Good morning” to wake us up at 5 AM I was already in the bathroom, talking to the the Kigelia tree, watching the light in the sky grow stronger. Everything needed to be packed and ready for the onward flight to Mwaleshi at 7.15 AM, so there wasn't really much time for dreaming. Breakfast was a casual affair, canvas and steel camping chairs placed in a half-circle at the river’s edge, a tiny but hot fire in the middle that kept a small cast-iron pot of porridge warm and provided heat for a grid that made a cracking bush toaster. A large round table held everything that we needed, pots of tea and coffee, milk and juice, cereals, fresh fruit, bread, etc. We all helped ourselves and sat on the canvas chairs to watch a small herd of elephants walk down to the river’s edge, drink and splash, then wade across the river. Their grey hides were distinctly darker where they were wet, the water left a clear line on their bellies. Through the binoculars I saw that one of the youngsters had rubbed its eye with a wet trunk, almost like a small child would rub its eye with a fist, and now it had a dark mark on its skin, looking as if it had a black eye.

15th October 2007, South Luangwa National Park

At first we flew over the snaking Luangwa River with its fringe of large, lush green trees and with water sparkling in among the sand banks. We could see a few villages, shaggy thatched huts interspersed with the occasional sheen of a tin roof. Each village was surrounded by a patch of cultivated fields. Then there were no more signs of human habitation, but sadly, there were many burned areas of bush, some still smoking, white “skeletons” of fallen trees stark against the black-singed earth. Then we crossed another, smaller river, the Mwaleshi perhaps? Soon after this, we could make out the little airstrip in the midst of an area of Mopane forest. The pilot raced low over the airstrip once before banking sharply and descending to land. He had explained earlier that he had to do this in order to make sure that there were no animals on the runway. Good thing, too! Fancy an elephant stepping out in front of the airplane and demanding right of way! A Land Cruiser stood waiting for us next to the air strip with several people beside it.