Into The Lions' Den
Apr. 21st, 2008 12:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
msconductNext year I will be going to Zambia, where I will be tracking lions on foot.
This, it has to be said, sounds like a somewhat insane idea even to me. In fact, I saw someone doing it on TV last year and swore that would never be me. I was about five feet from lions last year in Botswana in a totally open vehicle, but there's something about the thought of being on their level that makes all those atavistic hunter-gatherer hairs on the back of your neck stand up and wave desperately for help. And actually walking towards lions, rather than slinking away from them (don't run! Never run!) as unobtrusively as possible, seems possibly certifiable.
Thing is, though, that in Botswana the national parks don't allow you to walk, and we only got to get out to have a cup of tea and admire zebras and hippos and stuff. (And in camp, of course, which was liberally set about with hyenas and honey badgers et al.) But when we did, it was a trillion times cooler than sitting in the vehicle. Hence, Zambia and the lions and the feet.
And assuming we don't turn into a mobile lion smorgasbord, we will also be spending a few days in the Chimfunshi chimp sanctuary, where we'll be playing with and looking after the chimps, which naturally I can barely type without squeaking with excitement.
For what all this is costing I could put an extension on my house, but what can you do? It's Africa. There's nothing like it. There is nothing like it.
This, it has to be said, sounds like a somewhat insane idea even to me. In fact, I saw someone doing it on TV last year and swore that would never be me. I was about five feet from lions last year in Botswana in a totally open vehicle, but there's something about the thought of being on their level that makes all those atavistic hunter-gatherer hairs on the back of your neck stand up and wave desperately for help. And actually walking towards lions, rather than slinking away from them (don't run! Never run!) as unobtrusively as possible, seems possibly certifiable.
Thing is, though, that in Botswana the national parks don't allow you to walk, and we only got to get out to have a cup of tea and admire zebras and hippos and stuff. (And in camp, of course, which was liberally set about with hyenas and honey badgers et al.) But when we did, it was a trillion times cooler than sitting in the vehicle. Hence, Zambia and the lions and the feet.
And assuming we don't turn into a mobile lion smorgasbord, we will also be spending a few days in the Chimfunshi chimp sanctuary, where we'll be playing with and looking after the chimps, which naturally I can barely type without squeaking with excitement.
For what all this is costing I could put an extension on my house, but what can you do? It's Africa. There's nothing like it. There is nothing like it.
