The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Actually, they don' t tend to sleep at night. Oh no, they have been very busy a-wum-buh-wey-ing outside our tent. On our walking safari, we stayed in some very exposed and wild fly camps where we heard lions growling and roaring and circling our tent. And that's not all: that's just the beginning. Once the lions start, then the hyaenas start howling, the elephants start trumpeting, the aards start varking and the hippos start laughing, all to the cacophony of 56 million frogs screaming RIBBIT at the same time. Praying mantis and giant beetles dive-bombed onto our heads while we lay wondering whether the tent would withstand the teeth of a lion. Er, NO. Sleep was fitful, if at all.

So the mozzies were the least of my worries, despite having been eaten alive and looking like a dot-to-dot. Don't worry Mum, am still taking the malarone. I have also survived the sting of a scorpion (oh yes!) - the one night I did not heed Mma Ramotswe's advice (she of the Lady Detective fame) and check my shoes. Don't worry Mum, it was only a baby one and not poisonous. Pretty unimpressive actually. I would have liked a scar.

Now, back to lions. By day, they are absolutely beautiful and we have been unbelievably close to them. So close, in fact, I could just reach out and tickle one under the chin. Until, that is, you see one yawn and you can fully appreciate what big jaws they have and, my, what sharp teeth they have (Grandma). Bizarrely, I was always the closest and acutely aware that one wrong move and I'd be Aslan's afternoon snack. I do not want to leave this world as cat food. Vic Falls surely can't be as terrifying, can it?