Welcome to the working week

Not around here, of course. Everything is battened down and closed up tight, including my office, while we wait out Hurricane Sandy, a deceptively sweet name for a killer storm.

I've been singing Bruce Springsteen all weekend -- Hey Sandy girl, my my my my my baybay -- but sadly, this Sandy is a ballbuster, hurling rain at the windows in a way that does not really inspire raspy-voiced troubadours in wistful song.

Here's hoping you're safe and dry wherever you are, and don't need a canoe to get you to your next destination.

(River guide, Zimbabwe)

Frisbee time

Not surprisingly, the frisbees were by far the most popular items in the bag of school supplies.

The Lion and the Little Red Bird

We'd all brought school supplies for the two schools we'd be visiting on this trip.

Along with crayons and pencils, I bought two copies of my friend Elisa Kleven's book The Lion and the Little Red Bird, which seemed like an appropriate choice for Africa.

This is Adelaide, one of the teachers at the school, with their copy of the book.

School visit

On our way to Botswana this morning, we made a final stop in Victoria Falls to visit a local school. It was the Saturday of Easter weekend, so the children and teachers came in especially to meet us.

The teachers gave us an overview of the school's operations, then the children sang and danced.

The children were, not surprisingly, delightful. They peered shyly at us from around the corner of the school building as we arrived, but sang and danced without any self-consciousness. Then, asked to introduce themselves and say what they wanted to study, they turned into bashful twelve-year olds again.

There are so many more children than the school facilities can accommodate that they have to start classes at seven in the morning and do a second shift of classes in the afternoon.

Livingstone

Tonight, before dinner, Russell gave a talk on the life of David Livingstone.

In addition to being an expert on wildlife, skilled at navigating the labyrinths of international travel in Africa, capable of juggling all the details required to get 23 tourists transported, housed, fed and informed, Russell is a raconteur, an historian and a superb storyteller.

I won't attempt to tell the story myself, as I can't possibly do it justice. I think the lesson here is that if at at all possible, make Russell Gammon your guide to Africa.

Giraffic Park

Sorry, I couldn't resist the pun.

Several of us have remarked that having the electrified fence between us and the animals reminds us of Jurassic Park. (Not that you would even notice it if you didn't know it was there. It's underneath the lip of the terrace, and it really feels as though there's no barrier between you and the animals.)


Elephants, elands, buffalo, babboons, and today, a journey of giraffes.

Buffalo Death Glare

Back at the lodge, this buffalo was grazing just on the other size of the electrical fence.

When I got up to take his picture, he gave me this truly impressive glare -- which probably would have been more effective if he hadn't been wearing most of his lunch.

The goofy grin below seemed much more appropriate.

Faces of Victoria Falls

A mother and child, out for a late afternoon stroll.

So you want to be a trillionaire

These banknotes are for sale everywhere. I assumed they were novelties, but they're actual Zimbabwe currency.

Hyperinflation in the past ten years forced Zimbabwe to redenominate their currency several times, lopping off three or nine or twelve zeros and issuing new bills. The Zimbabwe dollar has now been suspended, and US dollars or other foreign currency are used for all transactions.

Victoria Falls signs

(I like the juxtaposition of "circumcision rituals" and "vibrant war dancing.")

Curios

There were some really nice curios and artworks for sale, but we have strict luggage weight limits because of the small plane we'll be using in Zambia, so alas all of I could have of these beautiful elephants is this picture. I guess I'll just have to come back.

View under the bridge

Mist from the falls filling the gorge under the bridge.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day

We're spending the day in the town of Victoria Falls.

Several of us wanted to walk out to the bridge, which spans the second gorge of the falls and acts as the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe.

Since the bridge is technically no-man's land, we had to drive out there, past the border control, then get out and walk.

I could tell we were getting close when the windows on the van were suddenly wet. We drove on another couple hundred feet, and the "rain" stopped as suddenly as it began.

This where the brave and the foolish can bungee jump into the gorge, or take a zip line across the river. Our bit of daring was going out there without officially leaving Zimbabwe, so that we had to file through the immigration office on our return, in the front door and straight out the back, pretending that we were being officially readmitted to the country.

Moonlight serenade

It's a full moon, huge and brilliant away from the big city lights, but my only opportunity to get a picture was while I was bouncing around in the boat, so it's unfortunately not very sharp.

But it is clear enough to see the most astonishing fact about it: it's upside down.

The moon is upside down.

Here, for comparison, is a photo I took in California last November. That toilets flush counterclockwise in the Southern Hemisphere may have sadly turned out to be a myth, but here's the proof that I really am on the other side of the planet.

Of course, it isn't the moon that's upside down; I am. I really am standing on my head as far as the Northern Hemisphere is concerned, and that's a little unsettling, a little dizzying.

But oh how cool.

Zambezi sunset

I think I had this design on a t-shirt in the Seventies.

The sunset was like flames, burning an intense orange and gold and bathing the river in a flickering warm light that poof! vanished like a burnt out match.

Even a baby crocodile looked cute in this light.

My, grandma, what big teeth you have

Here's a good look at the hippo's formidable tusks. They mostly use them on each other, but still, you'd never want to get in their way.

River horse

When hippos are just barely peering out of the water like this, they look like the stylized horses on a Greek vase, and it's obvious why the Greeks named them river horses.

Whac-A-Hippo

Our first pod of hippos.

Hippos, like icebergs, are mostly below the surface of the water.  Most of the time only part of the head peeks out, eyes and ears and the top of the snout, and after a minute or two, the hippo slowly sinks back under water. Then another hippo slowly rises. Or maybe it's the same hippo, in a slightly different location. You can't be sure; they really do look all alike.

Up, down, up, down, like the world's slowest version of Whac-A-Mole.

Then just when you've figured they're not going to do anything worth photographing and start to put the cameras away, they start mugging for the audience.

Lion walk

We took turns kneeling down behind the cubs and rubbing their bellies. They seemed perfectly content to be fondled by strangers, and emergency distraction with the sticks wasn't necessary.

Then the cubs were somehow persuaded that going for a walk was more fun than snoozing in the sun getting their bellies scratched, and we again took turns taking the lead position, walking with the cubs, while the rest of the group walked behind.

The cubs trotted along docilely, but at one point during my turn as leader, I started walking too fast and got in front of the cubs. The handlers quickly pulled me back. You don't want them to start thinking they're chasing you, which would automatically qualify you as prey, even though you were giving them such nice belly rubs only a little while ago.

Here's another nice closeup.

Little -- well, actually, quite BIG -- ball of fur

Another closeup of the beautiful cub, and one of the impressively large paws they were equipped with. lest you forget, even for a minute, that these are wild animals.