Sunday, January 26, 2020

Ambushed by Mozzies at Amboseli

28 Dec 2019

Up and out by 8 (which means we got to sleep in a little- yay!) Noah wished us well and then we were on our way. First we drove to Babboon Cliff where we had a beautiful view of the lake, and the babboons.






David told us that if they smelled our food they'd hop in the car, which brought me back to my days in Thailand on monkey mountain. I'd prefer not to relive that one thank you.




Little did we know that we'd be spending the next 10 hours driving to Amboseli National Park, which is located at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro.




That's right folks a ten hour road trip, and we only stopped two times. Once on the side of the road for souvenirs (David's buddy was trying really hard to sell us but Mark and I just weren't feeling the miniature African animals made of stone) and once for gas (no toilets there). I guess three times if you count the stop on the side of the road under a tree to eat our packed lunches. Yep, so after lunch I got to squat while the savannah grasses tickled my tush. On one side of me there were cars and trucks whizzing by and comin' in hot on the other side was a farmer with his herd of hungry cattle. I was only mildly phased by these things however, because what was really troubling me was, "I should have put deet on my butt, I should have put deet on my butt." If I end up with malaria on my meat seat you'll all know why 🤣

We continued through farm land and small towns until we reached the park entrance around 530.


The road we took to our campsite was flooded and even though David put forth his best effort, we got stuck about a quarter of a mile from the entrance. I swapped my Chocos for my boots and out we went. There was no one around so instead of waiting to be pushed or rescued we had to walk. My potentially malarial conditions earlier in the day didn't hold a candle to this. Ankle deep in mud/standing swamp water bordered by tall grasses and a humidity that made my hair immediately 80s fabulous meant the mozzies were everywhere. We made it to the camp entrance which was more than flooded but these wonderful Masai men tested the best boulders for jumping and then led us across the muddy water. Mark and I both had waterproof shoes so we were ok, but our driver, David, was less than pleased. He had black loafers and khaki pants, plus a gait in his step that led to his demise when it came to staying dry.



Mark and I had made it to our tent maybe 30 minutes before it started POURING rain. We crossed our fingers and hoped that David had managed to get unstuck and made it back with the car. He met us about 730, sad and soaked, and explained that two more drivers got stuck so they were all helping one another. He skipped dinner altogether and went straight for the showers. Mark and I enjoyed a drink at the bar and then went for dinner in the chow tent. The buffet was massive, as was the campsite. There were probably three or four times as many tents here as in any other place we'd stayed. The meal was good but because of the rain the mozzies were out in swarms. We literally couldn't keep the bugs off our plates long enough to take a bite. Needless to say, it was a quick dinner followed by a Masai dance (this time I was pulled from the audience and asked to join). We headed to bed so we'd be ready for our morning game drive at 630, but not before reading the fine print on our tent. Our campsite was surrounded by an electric fence because there were lions and elephants immediately on the other side. We were instructed to roll over and go back to sleep if we heard roaring or snoring but to run if we heard screaming. Got it. We were also forbidden to walk back to our tents alone after dark because of the aggressive monkeys lurking in the camp, so we had a lovely escort with a flashlight and a stick. I went to bed with the lingering question, which is worse, mozzies carrying malaria or monkeys that may maul me?

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