November 10, Part B

1530.

Went south for a bit. Relatively uneventful drive.  Started overcast and cool. Fired only a few frames at some giraffe and some sullen baboons. Many signs of elephants but strangely none to be seen.  Saw interesting drag marks on the road. Someone with better bush skills than me would write a story based on what he or she saw there.

Stopped in at Satara.  Filled the car, added air to the left front.  Went to the shop because we’re constantly thinking of the stuff we could use. We have a ton of food but one thing about multiple trips here is that you develop a good sense of what’s useful for what situations and we don’t much want to eat in restaurants most of the time.  We headed out, past the people waiting because they were told that lions had crossed the road recently and that mom had come back and taken one of the cubs to meet dad but it was expected that mom would bring the cubs back to his playdate buddies.  Or something like that. 

Took the third road north to Timbavati from the H7.  This is a very pretty drive but we saw almost no animals.  By 0900 the clouds had completely burned away and the sky was a deep blue, portending a very hot day.  It’s been a very, very dry winter.  Drought time here. The land looks scorched.  Grass isn’t dead and brown.  It’s dead and gray.  We saw a lot of impala and some are starting to look like they’re losing condition because the quality of grass is so poor.  We saw a few kudu.  A few zebra.  No elephants and not even recent sign of elephants.

We arrived at the picnic spot, rented a camp cooker for R20 (less than $2) and cooked an awesome hot breakfast of sautéed veggies, bacon (not the American kind – the kind they eat in the rest of the world which is pink and soggy and NEVER crispy) and eggs. 

Then a long drive back to check in to Tamboti Tent camp.  By noon, it was nearing 100F.  Perfect tent camping weather, right?  We’ve unpacked. Gina’s sleeping but it’s too hot for me to sleep so I went and washed my face, grabbed a ginger beer and went out to the deck to write this.  And as I write this sentence, a troop of vervet monkees is moving in, evidently to challenge me.  The little thieving bastards are not afraid of me.  Not one bit.  Hmmm.  I’m signing off because need to go become scarier.  We are very careful to have no food where they can get to it in the tent at all. We’ve learned that the hard way.  But I need to go huff and puff at them.  Where’s Mr. Leopard when I need him?