so, where did i leave you last?
or where am i now? that perhaps is the more pertinent question.
i am currently nestled in a huge beanbag on the deck of my bush camp, a steaming mug of Ceylon tea at my side, looking out over the oxbow lagoon that is a permanent feature of this little slice of eden i now call home. at the edge of the lagoon a lonely bull elephant is slowly and methodically filling his trunk, then carefully tipping his head back and drinking. i can hear the contented sound of hippos quietly grunting to one another, and the occasional splash as they move their massive bulk through the water. the peace is occasionally shattered by the angry shriek of a baboon in the trees above me, or the crackle of the handheld radio i am keeping by my side, but in the main i can just hear the peaceful hum of insects, the happy chatter of the little bee-eater birds as they swoop down over the water to fill their beaks with insects, and the gentle, mournful but musical call of the cape turtle doves settling down to roost.
it is half past five, so the colour is swiftly draining from the expanse of African sky above me, in preparation for the dramatic sundown in half an hour, when you notice almost out of nowhere the darkness enveloping you in a matter of minutes. but for the time being the fluffy clouds are still edged with pink and there is plenty of light left to type by.
it is the 22nd of June, i have been here for a mere matter of 2 weeks, and already it feels like home. i have to keep pinching myself so as not to become blasé about being here- it is amazing how swiftly we have slipped into the roles of bush camp managers, and how easily and naturally it has come to us both. the first few days back in the valley were a whirlwind, and to be honest the amount of information we had to take on board was both overwhelming and terrifying. but that already feels like an age away, and the trepidation i initially felt seems foolish with hindsight.
we landed back in Zambia on the 6th June. as i wiped the crap from my eyes and shook myself awake to prepare for the landing into Lusaka, the husband leaned over from his window seat, nuzzled me gently, and said “happy 2nd anniversary”. in the last minute flurry of organisation proceeding our departure, and the rather chaotic final 10 days in the UK the date had totally slipped my mind.
(those last days were chaotic but brilliant fun i hasten to add. we made a final flying visit to the festival site, and to see our festival friends in Cheltenham one more time before the big event in July; i spent a couple of days babysitting with my little nephews in Kent-soaking up as much of their enthusiasm, innocence and gorgeousness as possible whilst i struggled with a miserable cold- then travelled to Budapest for an alcoholic hen do the weekend before we left; we packed up all of our belongings from my parents house, back into the garage from whence they came 3 months previously; then i photographed a most excellent wedding of two most excellent friends in North London, which incorporated a mini reunion with lovely people we haven’t seen for a year and everyone had sufficiently recovered from ‘The Pest’ for the celebrations to go on for 3 days, after which we were all totally ruined again; and i managed to shoehorn in a short but sweet farewell and final sunday lunch, with my London girls in a gastropub in South Kensington the day we flew.)
and in all the madness and excitement, i had not remembered that it was our anniversary. it couldn’t have been more different to our first year anniversary, which we celebrated by taking the day off work, lounging around in bed all morning recovering from the aftermath of a Rage Against the Machine concert the previous evening, and then taking a front seat top deck bus ride through the city, watching smugly from our birds-eye perch all the little people scurrying around in suits, busily rushing from one place to the next like harassed worker ants. we enjoyed a lazy afternoon stroll down a sunny south bank, stopping off at various smart and iconic bars along the way- Skylon, the OXO tower- and soaking up the best views and cocktails the city has to offer on a bright, warm June day. by then we knew we were leaving London soon- the big trip was planned, and though not entirely cemented the foundations were there- and we wanted to try and enjoy it and truly appreciate the city again before we could no longer call it our home.
if you had told me then that a year down the line i would be flying back to the Luangwa Valley to take up a job as a bushcamp manager for five months i may have struggled to believe you. but nevertheless there was a rather beautiful symmetry to the fact that two years to the day that we had made our vows to each other, and had our first dance, looking into each others eyes and singing the lines about not growing old, not getting bored and living out our dreams for this great journey we call life, we were starting out on yet another adventure, and returning to the same place that we had first visited together on our honeymoon, just shy of two years previously.
we were greeted enthusiastically back at the lodge, and it was fantastic to see friendly faces, but there was a big part of me that just wanted to get out into the park, into our camp, and get started. there was also another fairly large part of me that was nervous about what lay ahead, the responsibility and the hard work, and wanted to stay in the familiar warm safe cocoon of the lodge rather than venture out into the unknown. we had just one night to spend there, which we whiled away on one of the staff house stoeps, drinking and chatting with our old colleagues, not noticing the hours passing, and talking of everything and nothing under the southern hemisphere stars.
by the morning my conflicting emotions were under control, and i felt suddenly very ready to get out to the camp. and nice as it was to be back at the lodge, our place was no longer there- there were new hosts who had filled our shoes, our room and our roles, and the dynamic amongst the other managers had shifted almost imperceptibly, but enough for us to feel that it was different to how it had been when we left it three months previously.
so without further fuss and ado we loaded up our bags onto the back of a game viewer, rallied together the half a dozen workers who were also venturing out into the south end of the park where the bushcamps are situated, and headed out on the long and dusty road to Chindeni.
that was merely a couple of weeks ago, just days really, and yet it already feels like an almost distant memory. but it brings us to where we are now, in our new home, poised on the next step of our adventure.
i will fill you in on what came next shortly, but for now i have been rambling on for long enough, the sun has well and truly set, and the noises of the afternoon have turned into the rumbles of the night. it is time for me to put on long trousers and bug spray, to check in our little bush kitchen on the progress of dinner, and perhaps, just perhaps, to exchange my tea for a G&T….
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