Chapter 12
I had finally finished dropping off my luggage in my beautiful "glam tent," but almost immediately, the driver called us to explore the site and show us the toilets and showers. It was quite a trek—not a pleasant prospect for getting up in the middle of the night. He had given us walkie-talkies in case nature called or if a visitor from the bush decided to attack us. It was perfect; we were the only ones on this site.
I zipped the first zipper, then the second. I plugged in all my chargers and sent a quick message to say that I was still alive everyone.
I was exhausted. Andy seemed happy enough to find me still alive, though he didn't really seem to believe me.
For my part, I hadn't told him that I had received money from my years of teaching in Quebec just before my departure; it was my insurance, allowing me to do whatever I wanted with my vacation thanks to this money that had fallen from the sky.
I had heard the Colombian girl—the "fofolle" with her little headscarf like a Mormon—going to shower. She was looking for trouble, that one. I even heard an elephant while she was at the far end of the camp.
I had been told not to go out alone, but to hell with it. I had to go. I made sure I positioned myself with my back to the moon so I could watch the shadows on the ground, and I swear I peed at a phenomenal speed.
But once everything is zipped back up, you can't see a thing outside. It’s stressful; I think I’d prefer a window after all.
We had to be ready for 5:45 AM. They didn't go easy on the early wake-up calls here; you really have to be a morning person, otherwise safaris aren't for you. By the time we picked everyone up and had breakfast at the other camp, we reached the actual Kruger Park around 9:00 AM. As I left my tent, monkeys were eating in our jeep—it was pretty funny.
We spent the day in the park, and it was brilliant. As soon as we arrived, we saw the white lion and the other lions. It was fantastic. We stopped for lunch, I pulled out some cash just in case, and in the afternoon, I was the only one who managed to photograph the leopard from our group. An incredible moment, as those animals are the best at playing hide-and-seek. Along the way ehen we werr in th3 bush, I shared my photos with my mother and Andy so it felt lik3 I was not all alone on thos trip.
When evening came, we didn't return to the same tent. What a nightmare! It started to rain; we couldn't see a damn thing. we had to drop people off and get back on the road amidst lightning and thunder. I was exhausted. The Colombian girl and I were headed to another "glam tent," but we literally descended into hell. We moved forward with our headlamps, our suitcases constantly snagging on rocks in a sort of crater. When he showed us our tents..i was furious. No fucking way. It wasn't "glam"; it was total misery. A plywood door.
I completely lost it. I was "à boutte," I jad it ! I couldn't stop crying. This wasn't what I had paid for.
The Colombian girl came to get me for dinner, but I stayed there. There was only one single outlet to plug in all my devices. I was frustrated.
The camp guy brought me a meal and offer me to charge my cellnup at the office and a glass of wine so I went up with him as he promise to come back down with me and he 3xpkain me why he had put a plywood door on. A real soldier's boot camp—it was hell.
Fatigue had taken over and I had fallen asleep on top of the covers, for fear of finding insects or scorpions inside. I was still wearing my nylon clothes meant for high heat, but they were soaked. The humidity chilled me to the bone and hypothermia was setting in. I was almost delirious, unable to get up. It was the click of WhatsApp that woke me up. It was Andy. He was sending me voice notes. I told him I was too cold, that I couldn't move anymore.
He then took an imperative tone, almost military. He ordered me to get up, to take dry clothes from my suitcase, and to change. I kept telling him I was unable to. He ordered me a second time, even more firmly, to take off my wet clothes and finally get under the covers. His voice was my only anchor. Thanks to him, I found the strength to change and wrap myself up. The warmth returned. I finally fell asleep thanks to my hero, Andy. Without that click and his firmness, I don't know if I would have seen the sunrise for the bush walk.
No comments:
Post a Comment