Africa Journal
Sunday, October 8, 1995

Camp Moremi
We leave the mobile camp at 5:30 for a game drive, and the drive to Camp Moremi. On the way we find tsessebe and the same breeding pair of lions, still together, still in the same place. They look very tired.
Camp Moremi is a permanent camp, with a pool, an observation deck overlooking marshland, a well stocked bar and a nicely appointed open air dining room on a second floor deck. The sleeping accomodations are permanent tents with bamboo fenced paths to the open roof, private toilet and shower. Eddie complains that we are no longer in Africa. I drag all of my batteries over to the bar to recharge, then take a shower to cool off. Under the blazing mid-day sun the water spray looks like a Fourth of July sparkler. With my now customary wet towel draped over my shoulders, l finish reading The Snows of Kilamanjaro, then proceed to treat every minor scratch on my body with mecurochrome and neomyacin.
From the observation deck, Sigrid and I watch a lone elephant in the distance. He wades into the marshland, then up to his eyes, then disappears altogether except for the tip of his trunk. The dot of the trunk stops, starts to move backward, and soon the elephant re-emerges along the path he came.
We finally have a truly unremarkable game drive, although the wet and green terrain is a pleasant change revealing many new and colorful bird species. Sundown finds us at a pool with hippos, hoping to catch one climbing out for the night. We watch a fire red full moon rise before us as we drive back to camp.
I have two Glenfiddich’s before dinner and South African red with dinner. Over dinner I pontificate about American immigration policy with two CEO’s from New Zealand. After dinner, more Glenfiddich with Sigrid, Wayne and Cathy on the deck. They are drinking Baileys. We discuss elephant intelligence with Murray, the acting manager of the camp. I don't want to ever go home.

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