BUSH CAMP

AFRICA 2006

The Bush Camp is run by Ellen a young Brit from Burton on Trent - at 28 years old she’d already become an ‘old’ Africa hand. Bought up in Ethiopia, her degree based on research into environmental impact of Elephant in Malawi. Since then she’d had a variety of management jobs in lodges in Malawi and Zambia. She collected us - a Dutch couple: Chris & Corolla and I - in game viewing vehicle. We then found that she had missed her true vocation - as a Formula 1 driver - as we rocked and rocketed down the dirt road for 2½ hours. Eventually, we arrived safely on the banks of the river to be greeting by the honking laughter of the large resident pod of Hippos. It was good to get some close-up/waterline pictures by disconcerting to find that we would ferried through the pachyderm community. They reluctantly parted - with grudging snorts and puffs of spray - to allow us across to the sandy beach of the island opposite. We trekked across the sand towards a stand of trees in which was hidden the Bush Camp - five open fronted huts raised on stilts overlooking the river. Each on had two single beds (enclosed in a massive mosquito net at night), a couple of easy chairs and a table. Down a flight or rickety stairs were the ‘facilities’ - a wash basin, a WC and a bucket shower - all open to the sky

The daily routine was similar to that at the main Lodge but had some significant differences. The wake up call was 15 minutes later (0530) by one of the lads who also bought a big jugs of warm water which he put by the wash basin. The early morning refreshments were similar but the visit to the Park was by foot only. However, as the Camp was on an island and so each excursion started and finished with a trip across Hippo and Croc infested waters.Mid-morning hot drinks and snacks were carried by one of the lads and our sundowners were held at the down stream end of the island close enough to get back to camp before it became pitch black. This wasn’t just a whim but a necessity as Elephants regularly visited the island and Lions had killed a Buffalo outside her room - past which we walked on the way home from the sundowners.

As the camp didn’t have electricity, apart from solar power for the freezer and the bar’s lights (somebody got the priorities right), evening activities were dimly illuminated by hurricane lamps. Each evening lamps were dotted around the paths to our huts - more an indication as to where the paths were than as an aid to seeing perils. Another was put on the stairs of our huts and several adorned our dinner table. One of the benefits of this was that there was hardly any light pollution and you could lie in your bed, separated from the bush by only the mosquito net, and see the moon silvering the river and a sky punctuated by millions of bright sparks.