'I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills.' With this sentence Karen Blixen opens her account of life on a coffee plantation just outside Nairobi. It was the 1920s, and this was British East Africa, not Kenya - part of the (by then fading) British Empire. The book presents a vivid, if at times uncomfortable, picture of African colonial life and the relationships between colonists and native inhabitants.
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Sometimes how you travel to a place can be as much fun as the place itself. The small planes that serve the various camps in Botswana’s Okavango Delta operate much like buses, dropping off and picking up passengers along the way. For some people, a flight in a small prop plane would be their worst nightmare; for me it was almost as much of an attraction as the destination itself!
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Deserts take many forms, but to most of us the word conjures up rolling dunes as far as the eye can see. Such a desert is the Namib, home to the world’s highest dunes. Many of them surround the clay pan of Sossusvlei, and one of the best ways to appreciate the scale and sheer number of these dunes is from above, in a hot air balloon.
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You don’t need to be a keen birdwatcher to be captivated by the variety and number of birds to be found in the Gambia. The country is considered to be a birdwatcher's paradise, and even as a non-expert and fairly mild enthusiast I had great fun spotting and photographing (or in some cases trying to photograph) the myriad species here.
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Please don’t ask me to pick my favourite landscape – it’s impossible. I love the drama of high mountain ranges, and the huge open skies of the desert; the haunting light that illuminates certain lands close to our poles, and grassy savannahs strewn with baobab trees; gentle green rolling hills, and roaring waterfalls.
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Weaving his way expertly between the throngs of sellers and buyers, our driver and new friend Habib led us deep into the heart of the market. The place was so packed it was hard to make progress at times, especially with the occasional car or bush taxi trying to squeeze through the crowds, and the many porters with their wheelbarrows shouting at everyone to make way.
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Despite the invasion of modern living in many parts of their country, the Maasai cling proudly to their traditional way of life. They never cultivate land (they consider it demeaning) but instead graze cattle, which hold a god-like status in their culture. The cows provide almost everything they need to live: meat, skin, milk, dung for the walls and floor of their huts, and warm blood extracted from the neck of a live cow and mixed with milk as an iron rich food.
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There's nothing like a carnival parade to stir up the emotions. There’s the anticipation among the spectators as they wait for the parade to arrive – can we see it in the distance yet? The excitement when finally it arrives, with all the colour and spectacle. The joy on the faces of the participants in the parade as they see the reactions. And the slight feeling of let-down when it has passed, seemingly so quickly after the long wait.
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Turn your back on a hungry giraffe who knows you have a pocketful of her favourite treats and you can expect to be ‘nudged’ into handing over the goodies. Stacey was quick to remind me, with a gentle head butt, that she expected my full attention, but it was more playful than painful. And as she was happy to pose for photos in return for the pellets I dropped on to her thick purplish-grey tongue, we were each rewarded by our encounter.
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What makes a place to stay special? Is it the location? The people? The building itself? Maybe in the best places it is all of these things, plus a small helping of ‘je ne sais quoi’.
