We are in Africa for sure!

There is something about the name “savanna” that evokes images of early morning sunlight seen through tall grass, giraffes stretching their necks to eat acacia leaves, big cats moving silently to water holes. Now we know that those imaginings are true.

Last week we headed out of the city to Murchison Falls National Park, just about 7 hours of a teeth-grinding, spine-compressing ride from Kampala. This was Bill’s birthday present: a safari with a tour company, two nights in the park, two game drives and one boat ride up the Nile. We are writing a travel story on the park, so I won’t go into much detail. But we were not in a big caravan of tourists on safari – this was just a driver named Junior and his very sturdy Land Cruiser, a ranger/guide (in the park) named Simon, and the two of us. We were within spitting distance of elephants; giraffes; hippos; crocodiles; kob (a kind of deer); hartebeests – very strange creatures with long faces; amazing turquoise, red, and yellow birds of all sizes. Of course, there were baboons, monkeys and oribi (little sweet looking miniature deer).

But here was the most amazing thing. At 7 a.m. Friday morning, we set off with Simon and Junior as the sun was rising (through the tall grass!). It is so silent in the grasslands; that silence is almost a tangible thing (maybe because our ears have been clanging in frantic Kampala). And the air is so fresh. We had gone with Simon the evening before and saw amazing things as the sun set. But Simon announced that this morning we were going to find the big cats, though he added a disclaimer: “For the cats, I cannot promise.”

We drove alone along the narrow game track, staring so hard at anything golden that our eyes hurt. Simon balanced his rifle on his lap; the sun appeared slowly, a bright red orb in the morning haze. Suddenly he pointed and said very quietly: “There it is – a big male.” And standing there looking straight at us, a very healthy male lion opened his mouth, showing off his pointy teeth. We just plain gasped. We bumped slowly off the track and shut off the engine; we were within 10-15 feet of him, and though he knew we were there, he just lay down, gazing around his early morning kingdom. Another male emerged from the grass a little ways away, heading slowing and gracefully for a water hole. We sat for a long time watching them . We didn’t want to even move.

No wonder they are called kings of the jungle. They really are royal in their demeanor, elegant and stately with those gold manes and clear eyes. Later we saw two females out hunting. The kob and oribi were watching them very carefully, as you can imagine. (First we thought the oribi were so cute; after seeing the lions it was hard to think of them as anything but bite-size hors d’oeuvres.)

The trip was tons of fun – we stayed at Nile Safari Camp, where we had a tent-like cabana with screened canvas windows and a screened veranda, power only from 7-10:30 p.m., and a view over the river. We could pretend we were Dr. Stanley or Hemingway or someone. (Well, they probably didn’t have the swimming pool … .) We had monkeys jumping on our roof, and had a shower from a bucket. The boat broke down on our boat ride and we had visions of the African Queen as we drifted into the crocodile and hippo-populated reeds. We waded in the Nile River above the falls. We wished on a rainbow made by the rushing Nile as it dropped through huge rocks. At night, we listened to hippos blowing their noses right below us on the river.

We wore so much bug juice and sunscreen that our skin will never recover. We saw four overturned semis on the highway on the way home. Gulp. And we have never been as dirty as we were when we reached our little flat.

I think Bill’s birthday trip trumped mine (Venice). Now he won’t be satisfied with just going snowshoeing for his February birthday. This will be a hard act to follow. (In case you can't see it, he is pointing to the words on his shirt, "Life is Good.")