Sunday, February 24, 2008

Sorry Safari

Yesterday I went on a safari. We loaded up into buses and drove to the Schotia Game Reserve, an hour and a half drive from Port Elizabeth.

The safari headquarters were located in a drab white building, a glorified carport for the forest green Land Rovers that were waiting for us.

The seats were located on the roof of the vehicle, with no canopy. I sat in the second row, on the left-hand side. Our incredibly handsome driver introduced himself.

"Hello my name is Justin and I will be your guide today. Do not hesitate to ask me questions. I will be stopping the vehicle at certain locations, and I will get out to talk to you."

And off we went, charging through the parking lot, and down a concrete road until we reached a large gate and barbed wire fence. The gate automatically opened and someone in the back of our vehicle hummed the Jurassic Park theme to himself.

Instantly, there were animals. Everywhere. It was as if the animals had been waiting for us in their places. Springbock deer came springing towards us, giraffes arched their heads and batted their comically large eyelashes. The world of animals was staring at us, a bizzarely large green purring animal with moving humps.

We went up and down hills, around corners, through bushes, and on top of plateaus. Then we reached another, larger gate, and our tour guide hopped off the Range Rover and opened the gate with his hands. We were now in the lions area.

We couldn't see any lions for a long time, and then suddenly there were five of them, and we were staring into their ginormous yawning mouths. Most of the people in my car spent half the time checking their cameras and zoom speeds. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It won't zoom right! It's so grainy!" yelped one of the girls in my van for twenty minutes.

The lions stared back at us, lazily. A bunch of people muttered Mufasa to themselves...it's really impossible not to think about the Lion King when you're in Africa staring at lions.

And then we went back to the lodge and ate and ate. It was fantastic, until a colony of ants emerged on my section of the table and I wanted to throw up on myself. Wine was free.

Justin sat with us, and I eye flirted with him. I'm not quite sure what that means, but let's just go with it.

Then we went on a night ride, and it started to rain. I put on a bright yellow poncho, and it whipped the people behind me in their faces. "Sorry, sorry," I said to them, " I'm so so sorry." I tried to pull it over my head, but then I had no arm to hold on to the van, so it continued to whip, splashing rain on everyone. I worried I would get caught in the thorns of the passing Acacia trees, and I'd be yanked off the Range Rover. It didn't happen.

Shauna and I cracked jokes during most of the ride, and we were probably really annoying. So, sorry. Sorry to the wildabeasts for making fun of your sorry name and ugly faces, sorry hippo for making fun of your weight, sorry rabbits for ridiculing your jumping skills, sorry giraffe for scaring you away with our cackling, and sorry, Justin, for hitting on you even though you're obviously straight.

No comments: