I would love to say that it was a pleasant trip, but if I did it would be a lie. The problem was and still is, that I cannot sleep on airplanes. I drug myself, wear comfortable clothes, listen to soothing music...nothing works. It's miserable at times, but all in the name of adventure.

(This is where the reserve Venetia is situated, in the lower half of the circle, just below the confluence of the Shashee and Limpopo rivers.)

Finally, after a 10 hour flight from Portland to Amsterdam, an 8 hour layover, an hour flight to London with a 3 hour layover, followed by an 11 hour flight to Johannesburg I had arrived. But only to wait another two hours to meet up with 7 perfect strangers with whom I'd bounce along in a van for another 7 hours to base camp. It's safe to say I was delirious; 54 hours without so much as a nap and I began to hallucinate, literally. At one point I was holding my camera in the van when we hit a bump. I jumped maniacally to right my camera that I now believed was a glass of red wine. At that point all I could do was laugh.


When we reached base camp in Venetia, we were all too excited to remember the fatigue that was bogging us down. The staff had prepared a meal for us and we ate with vigor. Chris, the camp manager then sat us down with paperwork, the kind you sign when you know it may end badly but you won't blame anyone if it does. He then began a sobering talk about the perils of the South African Bush. I couldn't help but notice the simple two-thread barbed wire fence that surrounded our humble camp. We were told as we glanced around at one another that the fencing would do nothing to deter lions, leopards, baboons or elephants. We were informed that lions do come into camp as do leopards on occasion. We were also told that a troop of baboons comes calling from time to time, and elephants like to rip out the water pipes. Chris then advised us to take care in looking under our beds at night as he had to remove a 2-meter snouted cobra (otherwise knowns as an Egyptian cobra) only the week before. We were also to check our bedding nightly for a small yellow spider with large black fangs called a sac spider. Apparently this spider searches out cotton and linens for its' hunting grounds and delivers a bite similar to the brown recluse in that its' venom rots your flesh. Awesome. Show me to my tent!

We were then, in two groups of four, shown to our tents; semi-permanent structures with cement foundations and walls of both canvas and mopane sticks. It became clear that anything that flies, crawls, or slithers would have little to no difficulty seeing itself in. Upon entrance into our particular tent, we met one such inhabitant. As we each lumbered our bags in, a seemingly floppy flying rat proceeded to make his rounds around and above our heads. We ducked and screetched and laughed as we realized that our pursuer was a bat. Luck be a lady, the damn thing flew right under the bed that I had just set my bags on. I shined my head torch under the bed and there he was, hanging like a happy little furry ornament, settled in for the night. Great, I could hardly give up the bed now. Better just get used to it. There's a saying in Africa, most likely drummed up by a seasoned visitor or native and if you've seen Blood Diamonds, you've heard it: This is Africa or TIA. Seeing how my sleepless flight led me to watching Blood Diamonds en route, I had this saying fresh in my mind and played it over and over as I nervously set up my mosquito net, all the while aware of the nestled fluffy bat just under my mattress.

After the usual preparations of brushing teeth, changing into PJs etc, I was ready to crawl in my bed. By the way, I lost count of the spiders that called our bathroom home (again, This is Africa) I climbed in my mozzy net and tucked it in tightly all around me. It was actually really cozy and secure. After writing in my journal for a time I shut off my head torch and lay there wondering how long it had been since I had actually slept last. I closed my eyes and tried like hell to drift off but the sounds of the bush are deafening when you're not used to them. All night long choruses of insects, bats, monkeys, black-backed jackals, hyenas, and sometimes lions go bump in the night, stirring one constantly to the surface and making sound sleep nearly impossible. That is, until you get used to it. On night number one, I was certainly not accustomed to the bush concerto. I lay there with my eyes wide opened, listening in disbelief to the noise. I didn't yet know what half of the noises came from so I wasn't sure how to depict which ones might eat me. Luckily, none of them did. Eventually, through the sheer need for rest after nearly 60 sleepless hours, my body began to give in and I drifted off. Finally sleep...for a few minutes that is. I then awoke to what felt like a mini power washer, streaming my eyes something wet. Instinct told me to shut my eyes as tight as I could manage and I began to search the files in my mind for what on earth could have done that. The only thing that I could think of was a spitting cobra. Spitting cobras are prevalent in northern South Africa and they're deadly accurate. I told myself to stay calm and not panic, and for God's sake, keep my eyes shut tight! I thought hard about what to do and finally settled on waking up my tent mates. "Is anyone awake?!" I said in a shaky, weird voice. Kay, a sweet and humorous woman from London answered me with a sleepy, "Yes". "What spits in Africa?" I inquired. "It's probably just the bat." She said. I breathed the deepest sigh of relief and told her that the bat just peed on my face. We both started to laugh as I climbed out of my mozzy net, slipped on my flip flops and made my way to the sink to wash my face. I couldn't stop laughing, maybe from the relief, maybe because it's just hilarous, and most definitely because I was probably more tired than I've ever been in my life. TIA.

I figured you'd want to see him one more time. Little beast.