Well, all good things must come to an end, and after three weeks, we were ready to go home. We met our driver at 7:00 AM and got on the road.
It was 4℃ or about 39℉, which doesn't seem THAT cold--unless you are riding in an open air vehicle. I was lucky to sit next to our driver and benefit from the heater and windshield. I still used one of the camp's ponchos, however. Bob was on the first of the three passenger rows and wore not just the poncho, but wrapped a wool blanket around himself as well. (See his reflection in the mirror.)
We saw a few animals along the way, including a steenbok, a small antelope we had never seen before:
A little later we saw a beautiful saddle-billed stork standing on a tiny island in the middle of a pond. The water was completely still and made a perfect mirror for the stork, the grass and the tree:
Just to mess with your mind, here is a flipped version of part of the photo above:
Bob took this much closer-up photo of the stork and its fabulous mirror image twin:
We had noted a painted dog sanctuary on our way into the park, and we had left early for the airport so that we could stop at the sanctuary on the way out. We only had 20 minutes, so we went quickly through the exhibition hall with a guide. We learned that there is a children's camp at the site where 6th grade classes stay for a week to learn about conservation, much like the Catalina trip our 5th graders take in Southern California. We learned that wild dogs get caught in the snares that poachers set for elephants, lions, and other large game. The people who run this sanctuary rescue, rehabilitate, and release the injured dogs.
They currently have three painted dogs at the sanctuary. One was born in captivity and is more or less the warden's pet, although it is kept in a large pen.
This dog was nowhere near as colorful as the ones we saw in the wild in Botswana. They vary by environment:
There were also two more dogs undergoing rehabilitation that we were not allowed to see. They don't want the dogs to habituate to humans.
From the Painted Dog Sanctuary we drove about two more hours to the Victoria Falls (or "Vic Falls") airport. It's very small--an older domestic flight section and a brand new international flight section.
We sat down for some lunch. I got some juice after about 15 minutes and my salad 15 minutes after that. About half an hour later, when I was completely done eating my salad with chicken and cheese but not a drop of dressing, Bob's eggs Benedict finally arrived. They were completely frigid and topped with a gelatinous blob pretending to be hollandaise sauce. The milkshake he ordered never came. He called the waiter over, sent back his dish as inedible, and paid for my food before we left. He went to the only other place selling food in the tiny airport and bought some potato chips, nuts, and a drink.
One thing I don't think I've mentioned about Zimbabwe is that they do not have their own currency. They use other countries' currencies, including U.S. dollars, which is what the ATM machines dispense.
We had an 80-minute flight to Jo-burg (as the locals call it) that included a small, unappetizing meal. Poor Bob.
We had a 3.5-hour layover in Jo-burg. It was nice to be able to say goodbye to my hero:
Of course, we couldn't pass this up. Bob deserved it, and I wanted to support him:
Oh yeah, we couldn't agree more:
You can tell that there are a lot of Brits in South Africa just by walking around the airport:
Panorama shots of tourist spots around the world covered the walls. We had been to quite a few, including the Great Wall of China:
It was 4℃ or about 39℉, which doesn't seem THAT cold--unless you are riding in an open air vehicle. I was lucky to sit next to our driver and benefit from the heater and windshield. I still used one of the camp's ponchos, however. Bob was on the first of the three passenger rows and wore not just the poncho, but wrapped a wool blanket around himself as well. (See his reflection in the mirror.)
 |
| Photo by Bob |
Just to mess with your mind, here is a flipped version of part of the photo above:
Bob took this much closer-up photo of the stork and its fabulous mirror image twin:
And here is THAT photo flipped 180 °. Crazy, huh?
An impala herd stood at attention as we drove away from the pond:
We had noted a painted dog sanctuary on our way into the park, and we had left early for the airport so that we could stop at the sanctuary on the way out. We only had 20 minutes, so we went quickly through the exhibition hall with a guide. We learned that there is a children's camp at the site where 6th grade classes stay for a week to learn about conservation, much like the Catalina trip our 5th graders take in Southern California. We learned that wild dogs get caught in the snares that poachers set for elephants, lions, and other large game. The people who run this sanctuary rescue, rehabilitate, and release the injured dogs.
This dog was nowhere near as colorful as the ones we saw in the wild in Botswana. They vary by environment:
The warden tossed him a piece of raw meat, and he quickly gobbled it down, looking very much like the wild animals animal he is:
There were also two more dogs undergoing rehabilitation that we were not allowed to see. They don't want the dogs to habituate to humans.
From the Painted Dog Sanctuary we drove about two more hours to the Victoria Falls (or "Vic Falls") airport. It's very small--an older domestic flight section and a brand new international flight section.
We sat down for some lunch. I got some juice after about 15 minutes and my salad 15 minutes after that. About half an hour later, when I was completely done eating my salad with chicken and cheese but not a drop of dressing, Bob's eggs Benedict finally arrived. They were completely frigid and topped with a gelatinous blob pretending to be hollandaise sauce. The milkshake he ordered never came. He called the waiter over, sent back his dish as inedible, and paid for my food before we left. He went to the only other place selling food in the tiny airport and bought some potato chips, nuts, and a drink.
One thing I don't think I've mentioned about Zimbabwe is that they do not have their own currency. They use other countries' currencies, including U.S. dollars, which is what the ATM machines dispense.
We had an 80-minute flight to Jo-burg (as the locals call it) that included a small, unappetizing meal. Poor Bob.
We had a 3.5-hour layover in Jo-burg. It was nice to be able to say goodbye to my hero:
It was also fun to do a little more shopping. The Jo-burg Airport is good for that. I love all the beaded items in Africa (including Nelson above) and ended up buying a small beaded angel like the ones below. I like all the women's home industries we saw on this trip and was happy to support them:
I had no idea the first Concorde flight was between New York and South Africa. Three-and-a-half hours? YES, PLEASE!!!
Prince Harry had married Meghan Markle about one month prior, and the Jo-burg Airport was full of royal wedding memorabiila:
No one stepped up to play this piano, and I was relieved that Bob didn't offer his rendition of "Hey There, Georgie Girl."
Panorama shots of tourist spots around the world covered the walls. We had been to quite a few, including the Great Wall of China:
. . . Victoria Falls:
. . . and the Lincoln Memorial:
We finally left Jo-burg at 7:20 AM on an enormous double-decker plane with ten seats across (3-4-3). It must have held 600-700 passengers. After 11 hours, we arrived in London at 5:00 AM and had almost a seven-hour layover there. Surprisingly, Heathrow is one of the duller airports in the world--full of expensive designer shops and massive Duty Free stores loaded with everything we can buy in the United Sates. We did have a good breakfast at a restaurant named Oriel in Terminal 3. It has a French-influenced menu. I had avocado toast with two poached eggs on top, and Bob had something a lot like eggs Benedict called Omelette Armold Bennet that had smoked haddock, hollandaise sauce, and emmental cheese. It was a meal we would order again anywhere, and one of our favorite airport meals ever.
The flight from Heathrow to LAX took 11 hours and 25 minutes, and then we had to go through customs, get picked up to get our car, GET the car, and drive home. Our travel time, from The Hide Camp in Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe to our driveway in Redlands, California, was 45 hours, possibly the longest journey from Point A to Point B we have ever taken.
But oh, WHAT A TRIP, WHAT A TRIP! Africa gets under your skin, that's for sure.
Yes, Afreeeeeka! It does get under your skin. I love it.
ReplyDelete