Merkat Cuddles

This little guy was alone in his pen and SO wanted company. He loved having his tummy tickled and would rub his little face on my arm.

Dung

I had never really thought about using dung as a method of communication ... rhinos have. They mark their territory with up to 20 or 30 piles of it. They are HUGE piles ... and must have a fairly distinct smell - Rusty went nuts over my sneakers when I got home ...

The dung beetles were my favorite African bug. They would roll, fight over and steal balls of dung 5 times their size.

My second favorite bug was this long horned beetle I found in my tent in Swazi ..

Blythe River Canyon

Africa was full of surprises for me ... so for everyone else who imagines Africa to be scorching dry savannah dotted with thorny acacia ... here is the Blythe River Canyon. It's the third largest canyon and the largest green canyon on the planet.

It even has it's own "Three Sisters" just like our Blue Mountains.

Pushy Giraffe

This guy was extremely demanding - and he had a very sticky blue tongue. In 5 minutes I had no food left and was completely covered in giraffe spit. Awesome!!

Biltong Guilt

I KNOW I hadn't eaten tortoise (unless it was in the potjie) but I wasn't sure whether I had eaten Bushbuck biltong ... I just hoped he wouldn't hold it against me ...

More cute cubs

I only knew about their sharp little claws by watching the small child next to me get swiped after he tugged too hard on one's tail ... For goodness sake it's a LION, not a stuffed toy - what were his parent's thinking allowing the kid to tease the King of the Jungle???

Into the Lion's Den

Ok so technically speaking it was an open cage and they were very small versions of lions - but they DID have sharp claws and sharp little teeth and they did attempt to roar (which sounded like they were on helium - it was so cute).

These babies were found abandoned at a game park so they were being raised by the lion park until they could be re-introduced to the wild.

I played tug-of-war with the eldest.

I wanted to take them home.

Fish Tales from Gonubie

We got up very early one morning to gather mussels off the rocks at the Gonubie Beach. We were highly organised with our screwdrivers to pry them off the rocks, the net bag for collection and the obligatory 50 rand to bribe the Inspector (it being too early to go to the Post Office for our licence). Sadly my brush with illegal fishing was a fizzle - the rocks were completely denuded and the waves enormous.

However - on a much more exciting note - I DID get to go to the East London museum to see the Coelacanth!!! I'm no passionate Ichythologist but ever since I read "A Fish Caught in Time" I have been obsessed with this living fossil and his name-sake, Marjorie Courtney-Latimer.

So I saw him, bought the mug , postcard, tee shirt and key chain and probably secured my place in geekdom forever.

Auntie Marsala

I have been adopted by Mrs Poona, she comes from Durban, has one leg, can speak Zulu, Hindi and English, has an endless repertoire of blue jokes and can cook curries like you wouldn't believe!

In exchange for pushing her around the neighbourhood I have become her kitchen apprentice. So far we have made enough marsala cooking paste to feed Mumbai (the recipe started with a kilo of dried chillis - and she wanted me to taste for saltiness ...) and my first attempt at dokra (steamed corn bread) was a huge success.

Mrs P has been the sole instrument for my vacation weight gain - every meal under her supervision was a huge event. She churned out mountains of braised cabbage, fish marsala and these delicious kebaby cabbage rolls called muthiya.

It's going to be hard to go back to tuna and cottage cheese..

Life in Gonubie

I have my own granny flat in Gonubie, about an hour and a half by plane from Jo'burg. It could be any idyllic looking seaside town in the world - with the added decoration of razor wire, electric fences and dotted with armed response security vehicles waiting for call outs.

Security is paramount and confusing. Early every morning I unlock my door, unpadlock the giant steel cage that covers my flat, unlatch the gate that keeps the dogs in and use my remote to open the perimeter fence - then I'm on the street and go jogging alone and unmolested the entire length of the town down to the beach. The residents are really friendly and as they get to know me I get calls of "Molo Missy" as I lumber red faced past them. I'm statistically more at risk at being hit by a car than being mugged - the road toll for just December was about 800 - at least 300 were pedestrians!

It takes the equivalent of an entire Aussie SWAT team to load the ATM's - Jacqui pointed out the sniper guys posted across the street from the armoured car as we drove past. The vehicles look like tanks - all metal with little slits for windows. So cool.

So I'm comfortable but not complacent - I'd never go out at night alone, but I will happily wander down to the beach-front at night with friends for a moonlight stroll in the surf to walk off my regular half dozen warthog sausages. The lights of the boardwalk are lighting up the sand.

I could easily move here.