It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a
So put on your thongs (no, I am not recommending skinny knickers in Australia things are a type of footwear), drink too much beer, talk through your nose and wave a flag that advertises Britain more than us.
I'm in South Africa with few compatriots around, so in honour of the date I watched cricket, and we were thumping the opposition. I'm not sure whether Australia has the better team, or India the better bookmakers.
Well, that is almost two months on the one continent! Thank goodness that tomorrow I have a night flight to Cairo, then early morning connection to London. And for those of you have accused me of pessimism in the past, take this - I have packed sunscreen!
I'm sitting in the retail hell that is Dubai airport after close to twenty hours flying, with another eight yet to come (which makes me wonder if I perhaps upset the person who booked this ticket for me). There is some malodor that I can not escape - imagine leaving wet clothes in the washing machine for a few days, at which point a goat eats them, then if that goat (who doesn't use deoderant) passed wind you might have the smell. Then I realised it is me. Sorry Dubai.
And once again I find myself on the verge of leaving Australia, but now I have run out of new continents to visit it is back to Africa. Within a week I will be on safari in Zimbabwe or Zambia, and while I once might have said something about not looking behind you, or going back, I get all sneaky and justify it this way: I've come round in a big circle to take me back to where I feel most at home.
A farewell (celebration?) for my departure is about to start at the Oaks, and I imagin
65 million years ago as the dinosaurs died there was a feeble creature that was so weak and insignificant if it went too there would seemingly be no reason to care. But this little shrew-like fellow with twitching snout and small fingers gave rise to lemur like animals, then monkeys, then apes, and eventually us. Every time a species goes extinct we lose some unknown potential. It is like the burning of a book, the death of a baby. Care.
This is an idea I’ve toyed with for a while, but came to a head when I was recently approached on the street by a pimply teen asking me for money for a well-known conservation organization. This org has done some great work, but is known for its administrative bloat, and something lie fifty cents out of every dollar going to decision makers, and pimply teens.
Across the world I’ve encountered many fantastic, motivated people running small scale conservation efforts. Mostly, they are not t
After a rather bizarre exit from Africa (it included a car accident and getting arrested, the two incredibly not related) I made it to Shanghai for a four day trade show, and back out again with far less drama. Now I find myself surrounded by the smell of eucalyptus, and people talking through their noses. Puts me in Australia I think...
All I have done here is remove the reviewers names.
Title is deceiving, June 10, 2010
This review is from: Whatever You Do, Don't Run: True Tales of a Botswana Safari Guide (Paperback)
I have read every book on safaris and big game hunting that is out there and was excited when I found this one on Amazon. No where, in the title or critiques is there mention that the author was a guide for CAME
I've spent the past few weeks traveling around Namibia, and as is always the case when visiting this country it has a mood altering, perspective shifting, grin generating, endorphin squeezing, turn your head sideways to make sure what you are seeing is real creating...
...something. This place would stump Shakespeare if asked to put the right words to it.
In short, I love it here, and think you should all come visit.
This website has been registered with Godaddy since its inception, but that has changed today based upon the actions of that company's CEO and founder, Bob Parsons. he posted a video showing a sorghum field in Zimbabwe, trashed by elephants, then him shooting one of the elephants when it came back for more.
Many would declare this a 'problem' elephant, but Parsons has more money than God, so why couldn't he look at buying the village a fence, or some alternative to shooting the elep
Yes, it is all official, and here is the link:
While it does not visit camps run by Wilderness Safaris, the company that has kindly taken me back in after a ten year sabbatical, it is all for a good cause and uses some wonderful properties. Come along!
I am back in Botswana after way too long away and have already visited my beloved Mombo, had a fine time at Vumbura and am now at King's Pool. I will confess waking up to a villainous hangover this morning, but certainly felt better than the impala outside tent two. A leopard had chewed half its backside off so if it had been able to speak I imagine it would have felt little sympathy for me.
This afternoon I take to the skies with the no doubt delightful Ethiopian national carrier (the cheap airfares via Egypt and Libya stopped looking like such bargains), and after a few days in Johannesburg hit Botswana. I am so excited that I wish I had a tail, merely to wag it.
Many years ago there was a flurry of excitement about a secret product that was making its way to market. Luminaries such as Bill Gates said that whole cities would be redesigned around it, and tech type people had a box of tissues ready for when the first pictures would finally emerge.
It was the Segway. A product that is nice, interesting, but not quite the revolution I expected, and I think many people felt the same way.
For some months I have been rabbiting on about a big announc
This little series has turned into a litany of excuses as to why I don't post regularly.
Here's another one.Six weeks until deadline for the next book. I am spending most of my time head down tail up working on it at the moment, but am also working on a longer post for here that includes what I am up to in 2011 and details of a safari i am leading for cheetah conservation later this year.
...and back in Quito, for another week or so before making my way back to London.
The three weeks I had with the Huaorani tribe deep in Amazonia rate as one of the finest experiences of what I don't feel is bragging to call an eventful life.
(My, that was a clumsy sentence, wasn't it?) several chapters of the next book will be from this time.
It was arranged and finely managed by Otobo, a Huaorani man who has a fledgling tourism business - check out his website
...and since you can't see the festive colors my face is turning, I will wish you all a more traditional season's greetings. Tomorrow I begin one of my more ambitious and quite lunatic adventures that will have me heading deep into Amazonia for three weeks, so no posts until January 10th. Or maybe later, because the tribe I will be traveling with don't own too many calendars.