We left Knysna early in the day wanting to go via Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point on the African continent. As our last night in Knysna was a right off, we spent the trip mostly asleep or in a daze. But once we edged closer to our southern most point, we all started to perk up and take in ever rougher scenery. Then we started to see the ocean and get even more excited. Following the signs to the lowest point in Africa, we found ourselves at a rocky beach and parked our car.

With bottle of champagne in hand, we made the tough walk about 100m to the actual lowest point itself. When we arrived there, we scared the other tourists off with our shaggy hair and ridiculous beards, so we had the whole place to ourselves. Photos were taken, champagne was popped in celebration, and we all had a huge sense of hangover. Maybe a little relief/accomplishment too. We decided that without the car we would have never made it, so we gave it a drink of champagne and a beer before we set off for Cape Town.

In Cape Town, we were kindly put up by family friends of Jimbo’s, Jan and Gary. They were absolutely wonderful and had a beautiful dinner and wonderful friends there to greet us. A wonderful and civil way to end our very long journey. In true WNT fashion, we thought that we’d make it a bit more rowdy and headed out to experience the best Cape Town had to offer. For anyone’s future reference, the Faz bar is pretty awesome, including vaudevillian live shows, people hanging from the roof playing violin, live dance music, and the Brazilian soccer team.

Over the last day or so of our trip here in Cape Town, we decided to just take in the sights. From the heights of Table Mountain down to the V&A Waterfront, we took in as much as we could. We even managed to see the Germany vs. England game in the awesome atmosphere provided at one of the fan zones. Whilst enjoying all the sights, we knew our trip was winding down and just started to think of all the good times we’ve had. Cape Town has been a beautiful place to relax and reminisce.

With one night left as I write this, we’ve decided to have our final fines meeting incorporating all the major fines over the last 17 weeks. Then we’ll head out for one last hoorah, luckily being spent with Dom, Henry, and Ash, some awesome people we’ve met on this awesome trip.

The End. Dan.

Dan came through with a brilliant solid and managed to snag the WNT a week’s free accommodation in the fantastic resort come casino of Sun City. Jimmy, an Aussie mate of Dan’s who was doing some work in South Africa, joined the party. But it was all null and void after the game, with all heading to bed before midnight.

With a solid sleep, we headed to putt-putt (with Splats taking line honors, and Sperm collecting the wooden spoon), then onto a delayed fines meeting. The fines meeting was fantastic, until the end when things got a little out of control, resulting in a broken window. Nevertheless, all things were mended and hands shaken. Cheers to Jimmy for putting up with our debauchery.

As our Trusty was left in Gaborone for some much needed TLC, we booked out of Sun City, (Dan got lost in a tiny car park) and headed back to Gabs. Once again the Stevens family greeted us with open arms, and we set in for another long session. Flaggon lost his navigation skills and general comprehension, and tried to climb into bed with John and Kathy Stevens at around 2am.

John and Kathy were up early the next day for a short flight to Knysna, leaving more hangover goodness to help re-pack the Trusty. Flaggon left a large Scotch and Coke on the table before departing the night before, and unfortunately had to consume the next morning after breakfast – hence rendering his repacking services (and tea making ability) useless. However, everything found a place, and we departed Gaborone for Nelspruit, and the last Aussie soccer game. The game was a vast improvement from Australia’s previous performances, with them scoring two great goals, although letting one Serbian goal through towards the end. Aus needed Ghana to beat Germany and a win against Serbia for any chance to make it through to round 16. Unfortunately, Ghana lost to Germany 0-1, so Aus missed out on the next round.

Due to pressing time constraints, we decided to drive straight from the game in Nelspruit to Knysna that night. Approximately 1500km and once again through an African night. The risk was worth it though, as Knysna is a beautiful spot, much like Byron Bay in New South Wales. It offers fantastic oysters, bungy jumping, and shark diving. The WNT slipped out to the lagoon for a spot of fishing, catching nothing and emptying the esky. Dominic and Henry from the UK came down from Port Elizabeth (arriving at 2am – fines!) who are always good value, so the whole time in Knysna ended up being a great one. We’re off to Cape Town tomorrow via Cape Agulhus, marking the end point of our trip. Till then, Jason.

Des was an interesting old chap full of tricks and riddles to boggle any worthy drinkers’ mind.  Des was a Rhodesian war vet and had just about all his fingers blown off by a grenade which he used to great advantage when confusing the tipsy Aussies.

Again, the lads all awoke feeling a little worse for wear and for something different had another drive ahead, but first Renton had mentioned the previous night that he had a problem in that a Crocodillagatorshark had escaped from one of the pens a few months ago.  It was now in the lower dam of the farm and needed to be culled before it reached the river.  “Fives alive” was played and Jas got the first honors, only after an hour of searching for it we gave up and headed into Durban.

This was going to be the first of the Australian games and the anticipation was building with every minute, thanks to Renton we were dropped off right at the stadium and what a stadium!! This place was a sight to see and the immense roar of the Vuvuzelas was incredible. We casually took in the atmosphere and went inside, that’s not before Dan first lost his ticket on the ground.

The game, even though we got smashed, was a huge success however trying to get home was a different story. The lack of signage left us walking around looking for the shuttle buses only to find 20 000 people also waiting in a line for a bus, we obviously caught a taxi.

It was almost a blessing that we waited so long to get a taxi home; otherwise we would have been out till late drowning our sorrows with the rest of the Aussie fans. In true WNT style we never stay anywhere longer than 12 hours so it was another early start and a long drive ahead to the Eastern Cape province. Our Destination was The Winterburg Hunting Concession, Tarkastad near Queenstown.

After 10 hours of driving and several Wimpy Stops later we met up with Jimbo’s cousin Christine and her husband Roland at a shopping centre car park in Queenstown.  To no surprise, Christine barely recognized Jimbo through his caveman like facial hair.  Another hour of driving in the night we arrived at this massive electrified gate with Buffalo warnings on it and other signs warning of danger within.

The Winterburg Concession is a private hunting property that caters to hunting clients who want to shoot large trophy bok such as Eland, Kudu, Bush Bok and Red Hartebeast.  Many of their clients come from the USA and are very experienced hunters with specific trophy animals in mind that they want to shoot.  This is where Roland and the other Professional Hunters come in; they provide their services of animal tracking and their own knowledge of the properties terrain to get the right animal for the client.  In the end whatever the client shoots he pays for, but it is only ever the large trophy males that are ever shot.  As it was dark when we arrived we weren’t able to take in the beautiful area that we had just driven into.

What a surprise we got in the morning…..Christine came in and woke everyone up “Boys get up, look out the window!!! Quickly Boys get up!!!”  There was over a foot of fresh snow on the ground and still more falling. But what was even more amazing were the mountains that we had somehow missed.  It was some of the most unbelievable scenery we had experienced on the trip and this was going to be out destination for the next four days, as Jimbo would say “What a Pleasure!”

The transformation from Nubian Desert to now, the first snow we had seen in Africa, -10 degrees outside……someone say a bet?  $10 US was the bet, although it would require me to strip down to my jocks, run out and do a snow angel and then run around the house and then back inside, whilst wearing the Aussie Socceroos scarf – EASY! Needless to say it was bloody cold and I definitely underestimated how large the house was.

After our messing about we had breakfast and ventured up to the main house on the farm, this was where the owner lives and was also where the clients stay in the 5 star lodges.  The top house was amazing and we were all very lucky to have been able to stay on the farm. Usually clients pay $1000’s to get the experience we had. (Credit to Jimbo for always having the connections throughout Africa!) DRINK!

That afternoon Roland was able take us for our first spot of hunting on the concession, as Rox (Roland) had never seen us shoot he thought it would be best if we have a practice beforehand.  A couple of shots at a target place 100m away was enough to guarantee him that we would be able to shoot the right animal when it came time.

Now shooting in Africa was slightly different to any shooting I had previously done in Aus, where you shoot from or off the back of a ute.  South Africa would be different Rox would have us stalking over mountainous terrain and through the very thick acacia bushes.  Now it has been a good three months with no exercise, drinking a little bit and sitting in a car for hours on end.  To say the least the fitness wasn’t really up to scratch when it came to running after Rox.

He was like a jack rabbit, and it was almost getting to a jog to keep up with him and the Springboks and Impalas.  Dan first had the rifle and after a bit of hectic running after Rox, both of us puffing Dan turned to me and said “here you take the rifle, I’ll be right behind you” Rox by this stage was almost 30m in front and about ready to set up the shooting sticks, of course when he turned around I was nowhere to be seen.  I finally reached Rox puffing quite a bit now, only for Rox to go “Okay, setup and take the one on the left…” I looked down the scope and everything was swaying so much I could barely see anything let alone the Impalas  themselves.

When trying to prepare for a decent range shot it requires concentration, breathe slowly and then hold your breath and slightly squeeze the trigger, whilst always keeping an eye on your target.  My shot consisted of me puffing like mad and Rox in my ear going “Shoot him, Shoot, QUICKLY! You only have a few second when he turns to get him…….Shoot HIM! Quick shoot him now, now! Yassis shoot him already bokkie!”  I finally let the shot off and in the beginning I thought I had missed it but I had succeeded and managed to shoot my first Bok in Africa. This was followed by a few sly comments from Rox “Yoh I didn’t think you were going to get him then, what were you waiting for, the rifle to shoot itself? Ahaha I’m surprised you Aussies can shoot ay, o well lekker boet good shot that was 237 yards.”

Now it was time to be blooded, local Xhorsa tradition means that for the first blood that you take of an animal in Africa you need to have the blood from that animal brushed on your face. Secondly you eat the liver from the animal, raw!  That was probably going to be the worst experience of my life.

The next morning we headed over to Roland’s family property literally over the other side of the mountain. Here we would be able to shoot larger bok and not worry about a price tag for example if we shot any of the big trophy bok on the concession we would need to pay excess of $12 000 US to $22 000. Roland’s parents property has been in there family for 6 generations, and was predominantly a grazing farm.  This meant we could shoot most of the bok that were eating all their feed.

The snow had been much heavier over that side of the mountain and we would be trekking through some very cold areas that had received nearly 3 foot of snow. We drove to one of the far parts of the property and dropped off Jas, Jimbo and Rox to stalk over the ridge and then Dan and I would drive back down into the valley and square off anything that the lads scare down.

First it was time to take a few photos and take in the scenery from this amazing place, Roland took the camera and proceeded to set us up holding the rifles over our shoulders.  We would look like knobs but it was more of a piss take at many of his American clients who would pose in similar ways.

On our drive back down Dan with his 20/10 vision saw a smaller bok, we looked through the binos and established that Dan could take a decent shot at it from the top of the ute (easy shooting no running involved) I watched through the binos as Dan dropped this bok.  In seconds we had radio contact from the boys back up on the ridge “Was that you lads, what did you get?” I radioed back, “I think it’s a Red Hartebeast….maybe or an Impala?”  Mean while all Roland heard was “We’ve shot a redhartebeast Impala”, he soon turned to Jimbo and ask “What bok names have you been teaching these boys?”

This of course is when my heart sunk; Roland radioed back in and said “Jesus Boet! *Sigh* you weren’t meant to shoot them!  That was $3000 US! Mate you’re going to have to tell my old man about this.”  “Shit boet this isn’t good”

Devastation spread across my face, only for the laughter over the radio to make its way through “Sperm what the hell is a Red Hartebeast Impala?”  “Your fine by the way mate you can pretty much shoot anything here ahahaha”, this was quickly followed by a F*^%& You!

By the time Dan and I made it down to the bok, it however turned out to be a lot smaller than we expected, anyways I blooded Dan with as much blood as I could possible get on his face and then we proceeded back up the mountain to help find the BlessBok that the other boys had shot.  Apparently Jimbo had missed slightly and only injured the beast, so while we drove all the way back up the boys were legging it to get the rest of the herd and Roland was making them work for it.  By the time we got there they shot another three Blessbok and were in the middle of dragging them down from the hill.  Dan and I made our way through the gate and when we arrive the boys were dripping in sweat and hurting big time.

We loaded the boks into the back of the utes and headed back to the house where Roland’s mother made a full midday roast with all the trimming.  Not a bad way to finish off a successful morning.  We headed back to the concession shortly after and retired in for an easy afternoon around the fire.  After dinner as it would be our last day at the farm, Roland asked us if we wanted to watch the Bafana Bafana game up at the main house and then on the way back shoot some Jackals and Springhares.

Bafana lost and our shooting wasn’t much better, we of course blamed it on the rifle, the cold, the ammo and pretty much anything else we could think of apart from our own shooting ability.  The next morning we would be leaving early to drive 8 hours back up to J’burg for a night on the town with our Zimbo mate Mark ‘Geezer’ Moore-Gordon.

Until next time, thanks again for reading.

Cheers Cory (Sperm)

Guma Lagoon is situated at the start of the Okavango Delta, and has been affected by the same high water as the rest of that area.  The road there was covered in water, but it wasn’t anything our car couldn’t handle.  Unfortunately we were running a bit late, so when we arrived the manager, Kate, had left to come and find us in case we were stuck.  Luckily we weren’t and she came back shortly after we arrived and we all enjoyed a few beers in the awesome bar.  We organised a Makoro ride for the next day and set off to bed.

A Makoro is a dugout canoe with polers on the back to push you along through the shallow depths of the delta.  It’s a wonderful way to see the sights through the area, as you drift through the reeds and lilies making no noise.  For lunch we stopped on an island that one of our polers used to live on.  We were lucky enough to see elephants just where we moored, so we set off on foot to check them out, keeping a safe distance at all times.  It was good fun, and just wondering around the island and eating the baobab fruit was a very cool experience for all the guys.  The ride back was just as peaceful, some of us even started to fall asleep on the way.  But once we got back, we enjoyed a few more beers and watched the beautiful sunset over the delta.  This time the owner was there as well, and we had a good chat and beers into the night with him and Kate, knowing we had to get up before dawn to set off for the Kalahari the next morning. A cold breeze was blowing off the large lagoon at the foot of the bar, so we all donned our Blackwolf jackets to keep the chill at bay.

The drive to the Kalahari was a long one, especially once we hit the sands of the desert itself.  There wasn’t much to see on the way to our campsite, just the semi-arid scrublands.  Our campsite was something very different from the others we had been too.  The Sunday Pans campsites are all separated by a few kilometers, so you feel very remote in the middle of the desert.  We got there just before sunset, so had to go off into the bush to get some firewood.  Walking around at sunset in lion country wasn’t my idea of fun, but we survived to see another day.  We didn’t stay up long that night though, preferring to get to bed early so we could go for a game drive at dawn.

We set off early that day, hoping to see some lions as well as some other game.  Even though the landscape was awesome, we were a little disappointed that we didn’t see any of the elusive Kalahari lions.  As we had another full day the next day, we decided to head back to our camp and spend the day relaxing, planning for another game drive that evening.    Still no more lions that evening, so we decided to just have our fines meeting instead.  The usual shenanigans went down, with all of us enjoying the warmth of the fire well into the evening. The Kalahari is freezing at night, so all jackets were on, with the Blackwolf jackets again saving the day.

The next day was more of the same, but luckily that evening we heard from passersby of some lions about 20km away.  We set off to find them and came across them just before we were about to turn back.  They had a gemsbok kill with them too, which was a cool sight to see.  We stayed there for almost an hour, getting to within meters of the lioness and her young males.

We left the following day, setting off for our last two nights of camping for the trip.  Our destination was the Makgadikgadi pans, but first we thought we’d do a quick loop of one of the pans in the Kalahari.  Luckily we did, because we found another small pride of lions with a kill.  We spent about the same about of time there, getting very close once again.  But this time we were lucky enough to see all the jackal surrounding the lions kill trying to get a piece of the action.  One or two sneaky jackals got in there and ran off at a frantic pace with some meat in their mouth.  All chuffed, we set off for our final destination.  However, because Sperm had decided to transfer 40L of our fuel into the ground, we had to go 100km in the wrong direction to get some extra fuel.  But with the new fuel on board and Sperm far away from the fuel pump switch, we reached our campsite.  The entrance to it had also been flooded, so a very deep river crossing was needed to get to the camp.  Once we arrived, we were told that no-one had entered the camp through that entrance for a few months.  We all had a laugh and settled in for a quiet night before a big day driving the pans the next day.

Most people have seen the massive salt pans associated with the Makgadikgadi Pans and these were the pans we wanted to see.  We set off early wanting to check them out and drove north to some big pans we were told about.  After about an hour or so driving, we found out that this pan was big but wasn’t actually a salt pan.  It seems all the animals weren’t a fan of it either and had decided to leave before we got there.  We asked another guide where these elusive salt pans were and he pointed us in the opposite direction, so off we set for another long drive to find them.  It was worth the drive.

The first salt pan we drove onto was littered with islands, with a main one containing all these baobab trees.  It was quite stunning scenery and apart from these islands of life, it was very baron.  We decided to stay there and have some lunch in the shade of this upside down tree with no leaves.  After this we set off in search of a real salt pan with nothing else in sight.  We went down to part of the Nxai Pan hoping to get lost in the sand.  With all the palm trees and grass on the way there, we were dubious if we’d find anything.  But then out of nowhere we found the edge of this huge salt pan that stretched as far as we could see.  We went for a drive on it and pulled up for some beers and a game of cricket.  But then we had to race off, trying to make it back before dark… we didn’t.

Being adventurous, we took a path back to our camp that looked like it hadn’t been used in a year.  The going was fine until we were 3km from our camp and Jase stalled the car in soft sand.  Then the car wouldn’t kick over.  So out we jumped, hoping to push start the car, in sand, in the dark, in lion country.  Even though it was on a downhill it was impossible to move the car in the soft sand.  So we swapped the front battery with our rear battery while waiting to be eaten by lions and got started and set off again, making it back to our camp with no more dramas.

Setting off early the next morning for Gaborone we decided to stop at the park gate and fix the tension on the fan belt, which turns out to be the reason the battery died.  After looking under the car, we found the alternator was loose and with a quick tug, it simply fell off.  With the bolt sheared, we had no way to reattach the part, which was a necessary part in the fan belt loop, and charge our vehicles batteries.  After asking for help from the park officials we were told that we’d need to get help from Maun, about 250km away.  So out came a ratchet strap and a few zip ties and the alternator was ‘reattached’ and we were on our way.  We checked it after the immediate water crossing back through the ‘impassable’ river and again about 150km away, and it was working fine.  So we made the trip 750km back to Gaborone with our trusty zip ties holding us together.

We were greeted very warmly by Jimbo’s parents in Gaborone.  Kathy, Jim’s mother, put on a beautiful roast dinner with all the silverware and crystal glasses.  She figured we’d want something nice for dinner as a change to all the camp food, and she was right.  We also met their neighbours in the complex they live in, who were all very nice, even giving us their spare rooms for some of us to sleep in.  The next day we went off for an afternoon of golf.  With our caddies by our side and manicured lawns, we all still played very poorly.  Sperm actually won over the 9 holes and I came last.  It didn’t help that I sliced two drives into someone’s house on the 9^th hole.  The lady didn’t seem too impressed for some reason.

Our final day in Gabs was dominated by car repairs and World Cup openings.  Jim’s parents had a huge World Cup opening party that night, with everyone getting in early to watch the opening ceremony at 2pm.  The big screen was setup and the drinks were flowing as everyone really got into the excitement of the event.  Even though we knew we were leaving early the next morning to make it to Durban, we decided to stay up late into the night celebrating.  It’s never a great idea, but the fun times we had with some of the lads there made it worthwhile.  Until next time, Dan.

With all four bundled into the car we headed off on our morning game drive, keen to find the elusive zebra which had only days before been so abundant in the area.  To do this we decided to head off towards the Savuti Marshes and find some forgotten tracks, as it was here that we would surely find gold. BAD IDEA, we found the forgotten tracks and soon after found ourselves very lost as the tracks very quickly turned into game trails and then deep mapane forest. One could have quite easily back tracked on the route we had just come in on, but in true “Why Not” fashion we decided to bundubash and make a beeline for the closest main road. How hard could it be? The GPS showed us as only 1 km from the road, but an hour later, only 500 metres made and both myself and Jason now having to open a path up in front of us one could quite easily say we had again made the wrong decision. But this is what we had come to see and although it wasn’t the most testing of 4×4 driving we where deep in the wilds of Botswana with every chance that a pride of lions was following close behind.

Having finally made it out of the Mapane forest and found our not so main road, we thought it best to point our nose towards the West, as we had lost a lot of time that morning and still had a long way until our next campsite. Although we had still not found the large herds of Zebra the drive out was spectacular and we were treated to a few more sightings of the large elephant bulls of the Savuti.

Having checked out of the south east gate of the Chobe National Park we were not far from Moremi, a game reserve that spreads out into the heart of the Okavango Delta and with one of the highest floods had in years we were sure to encounter a lot of water. In this instance we were not mistaken and before we even made the gate we had to negotiate four river crossing and a very rickety bridge that was apparently only rated to 5 tons. At 4.5 fully loaded these were nervous times, but kudos must be given to Spermy who drove brilliantly through some of his first ever water courses.

With only two hours of daylight left we decided to take the advice given at the gate and not take the most direct route to our camp. Although we would have loved to test our car even further apparently with the floods being so high this route had been impassable for some time. This did however mean we would not make camp by sunset but also gave us the option of driving at night (not allowed in Botswana Game Reserves) and so possibly sighting our first leopard.  Unfortunately, luck was not on our side and we limped into camp with no wood and some very hungry bellies.

The next morning we woke up a little later than usual and decided to treat ourselves to a cooked breaky of Bacon , Eggs, Baked Beans and South African Boerewors. With bulging tummies we headed off to Third Bridge, an area of the park which is a little more open and where lion had been spotted recently.  Although we again struggled to find the ever elusive cats, we were treated to many different species of plains games and in particular the Stititunga. A rare and very shy antelope that resides and walks on the floating papyrus of the Okavango.  However as expected and around almost every corner were the crystal clear waters of the Okavango Delta. 4×4 driving heaven but with a twist. As it was impossible to tell how deep the crossings were we would have to walk each beforehand. Not a difficult task but with croc and hippo abundant in the area it wasn’t long before the “spirit fingers” were out. Our sign that we had reached the limits of our bravery/stupidity.  As the day wore on we became cockier in our ability to read the depth and would often cross a stretch of water without first walking it. However, one such crossing had water lilies, a tell tale sign that this was going to be a deep crossing. Having had a few beers at lunch the boys were all game to give it a crack. As it was Spermies turn to walk this one he hopped off the roof but before he even got to the water the “spirit fingers” were out. Not even the jeers from his mates could convince him to test these waters. As I was driving and knew should anything happen blame would be placed firmly on my shoulders at the next fines meeting, I decided to test walk it myself. I must add that at half way and with my testies already sunken below the water my nerves faltered and the spirit fingers again came out and I decided that it wouldn’t get much deeper than I already was.  With the thumbs up from everyone I slipped the trusty rusty in to low range and locked all three diffs. Everything went “swimmingly” until just beyond where I had stopped we slipped into a sunken hole. With water above our top spotties and weeds under our tyres it wasn’t long before we lost traction and ultimately momentum.  A bad combination when driving through water. Now stranded in the middle and with water cascading in all the doors, frantic stations where hit. Both Jason and Cory were both off the roof in a flash (crocs and hippos well forgotten) and it was quickly decided that reversing back out on our tracks would be the better option. Dan was not even able to offer any help as the pressure on the doors was such that he could even open it to get out and let’s face this man was not going to be able to climb out of the window . With the extra heave from the boys on the front bar and a sumos wrestlers face from Jason it was long before we regained traction and pulled the old girl out of her would be watery grave.  Credit must be given to these vehicles as even after that little swim the old cruiser was still running as well as ever.

Having frayed our nerves a little we decided to head back to camp, unpack the car and dry the inside as best we could. This ended up taking quite a few hours and dusk was setting when we finished. That said the old girl was still pretty wet and we knew that the wet towel smell was soon to come. After a shower, shit and no shave the rest of the night was spent reliving the day around a roaring camp fire. True to nature these stories became more embellished as the night wore on and the beers flowed…..So take everything above with a pinch of salt.

The next day we were up before dawn and breaking camp, as we were leaving Xakanaxa and heading to South Gate campsite for our last night in Moremi. Once again game viewing was the order of the day and so when we had booked our camp spot we headed out to explore this part of the park. With almost every traveling regaling stories of cat they had seen just the previous day we where sure luck was on our side and today we would find these beasts. Not to be. Once again we were only treated to plains game and so a little disappointed we decided to do what every true Aussie does… head back to camp, have a few beers and play a little cricket. With spirits up again and dinner to be made, Cory and Jason headed off in search of wood. However it wasn’t long before both scuttled back into camp looking a little flustered but really chuffed with themselves. Whilst collecting wood they had come within 15 metres of a bull elephant, more than a little annoyed that they where pilfering wood where he was feeding. An experience I’m sure neither of them will forget. That said, at the same time Dan was chasing ellies through the brush, trying to get some close up film of his own.

After a great dinner of Boerewors, Mash and chuckuluka, both myself and Dan decided to call it a night. The other two were keen to finish off a movie they had started a few days before.  However, it wasn’t long before the boys were scrambling in search of the slingshot and ball bearings as a large pack of hyenas had descended into camp, with one standing only a metre on the other side of the camp fire.  When all were severely run out of camp in a shower of ball bearings and calm restored all four of us crept off to bed and listened to the herds of elephants cracking branches and trees all around the camp.