Are we back in Belize or Kenya?…What’s going on?…

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In between parts of the souk, there are outdoor areas where many locals may be offering their wares. We’ve seen boxes of products arriving from Bangladesh and China. Shopping tourists often assume that all of the offered products are made locally. Some are, but not all.

When we arrived in Belize over a year ago, our first week spent in the little cottage on the beach, (until we moved out a week later), I suffered from over 100 bites from what is referred to as “no-see-ums” commonly known as sandflies. 

Once we moved to the fabulous LaruBeya we’d only have to go indoors at dusk to avoid being bitten and wear repellent when outside at night. Later, in Italy, with no screens on the windows or AC, the flies dined on me day and night, eventually requiring me to wear the BugsAway clothing, leaving me hot as I was overly dressed in the heat of summer.

Shop owners and workers often play with their smartphones as they await the next customer.

In Kenya, it was mosquitoes, making it necessary for me to wear insect repellent 24 hours a day. In South Africa, it was mosquitoes, referred to as “mozzies,” again requiring me to wear repellent at all times that buzzed around my head but not nearly as bad as they had in Kenya.

When we arrived in Morocco two months ago, it was cool, mostly in the 60Fs during the day, cooler at night.  Without a bug in sight, I thought that for a while I was home free with no biting insects. I was kidding myself.

As spring arrived this past month, almost on queue with the weather warming more and more each day, I awoke 10 days ago with no less than 25 bites on my right arm and hand.

This appears to be an abandoned construction site.

I sleep on my left side with my right arm draped over an extra pillow placed perpendicular to my body. This pillow provides relief for my bad right shoulder. As a result, my right arm is outside the covers most of the night. I didn’t see a single insect fly by the screen of my phone as I’d read a book each night. What was biting me?

Itching like crazy with neither repellent nor itch relief on hand from when we’d lightened our load, I searched online for the source of my dismay…the lowly sandfly, aka “no-see-ums” commonly called the phlebotomine sandflies. Nasty little invisible buggers!

These are no simple bites. These are vicious bites leaving raised hot, red, swollen nodules that itch beyond belief, eventually to ooze if rubbed or scratched even in the slightest. Oh, good grief. Here we go again as I wondered, why me and not Tom?

Hundreds of years of wear and tear is evident in certain areas.

In finding this article from the Smithsonian Institute, the answer is clear. I am a Type-0 blood type, twice as likely as Tom’s Type-A. Plus, I must have a genetic factor. My two sisters suffer from the same tendency to be bitten.

After reading through the above article I feel confident the answer to the dilemma lies therein explaining my propensity to being bit in general, let alone attracting biters away from Tom. He often explains that when I leave the room, they flock around him in my absence until I return.

Unable to find repellent at the pharmacy we tried in the Medina, I’ve resorted to being totally covered in clothing around the clock. Sandflies, invisible to the eye are too small to bite through clothing or blankets. As a result, I’ve been wearing one of Tom’s white long-sleeved BugsAway shirts to bed at night with my arms well covered and during the day wearing my own BugsAway shirt, jeans, and socks.

This shop sells attractive tiles sinks and basins.

Now, completely covered they’ve resorted to biting my hands during the day and again during the night. A few days ago Adil brought a plug-in device for the bedroom that continually emits a repellent. We keep the drapes covering the doorway to the bedroom closed at all times, as I’ve instructed Madame and Oumaima to do the same each day after cleaning our bedroom.

These combined measures appear to have improved the situation. But, I’m still getting bites on my hands and fingers. Nothing is more itchy and annoying than bites on one’s knuckles or between the fingers. As I sit here in the salon at this moment, I can’t see them but they surely hover around me avoiding my bug repellent shirt instead, feasting on my hands. I no longer scratch after reading that scratching exacerbates the length of time the bites remain “active.” I knew this. I needed to be reminded.

After 10 days, the original bites continue to itch and the newer ones are revving up for days to come. In reading information about these nasty critters, the itching may last for weeks or months.

Off the beaten path, second-hand items are offered for sale on the ground as the local seller hunches on the ground, hoping for a sale.

Today, if necessary we’ll stop at every pharmacy in the Medina to find repellent and anti-itch cream. If we find the repellent I’ll wear it around the clock, reloading it on my hands each time I wash. Perhaps, if the repellent works well I’ll be able to stop wearing hot, bulky clothing as the weather is now into the scorching 90F degrees (32.3C) almost every day.

In the realm of things…no big deal!  But, for those prone to being bit, one must be prepared when traveling. How did we end up unprepared? When packing to leave South Africa, my tube of Cortisone cream was almost empty and expired so I tossed it, thinking I could easily buy another. When I used the last drop of repellent on the last day, again, I thought replacing it would be no issue.

Also, after reading about insects in Marrakech nothing was mentioned about these pesky critters. Once we arrived, not seeing a fly or bee anyway in the riad with the center courtyard open to the sky, I thought there would be no issue. Little did I know.

A few nights ago, my entire right arm was hot and swollen from all the bites. Using antibiotic ointment, I dabbed at each of the bites before putting on Tom’s shirt for bed.  In the morning it was better. These types of bites may become infected making it important to stay mindful as to their condition. Initially scratching them, even gently over my clothing, proved to result in further damage.

Caught up in the discomfort of itching results in losing valuable time better spent enjoying our surroundings and time together. I’ve learned my lesson to always have anti-itch cream and repellent on hand wherever we may go.

Is it any wonder that there would be sandflies in the desert…duh…the sand? Good thing I didn’t ride a camel on the desert sands as originally planned! Our change of plans turned out better than we’d expected!

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Photo from one year ago today, April 30, 2013. With no photos taken that particular day, below is a photo from the prior day:

A tourist boat made to look like an old pirate ship passed by our ship, the Norwegian Epic as we watched from our balcony. For details of the story posted on April 30, 2013, please click here.

Honey Badgers…Looking back three months ago….A tribute to animal intelligence…

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This video, presented by  Brian Jones and Africa Geographic is one of the most amazing examples of animal intelligence that we’ve seen without any training by humans. We were fortunate to see these Honey Badgers when we visited the Moholoholo Rehabilitation Center only three months ago. Last night this video appeared on my Facebook homepage.

While visiting the Moholoholo Rehabilitation Centre we were impressed by the opportunities for veterinarians, students, and volunteers whose passion revolves around wildlife. If you know of somehow who could benefit from this program, please refer them to this link where there is a wealth of information about the student and volunteer educational program. What an ideal segue into wildlife for future veterinarians! 

Our photo from this January while we visited the Moholoholo Rehabilitation Centre in Hoedspruit, South Africa, a day we’ll always remember. 
Last night, as I gave Facebook one last look before heading to bed, I noticed this video had been posted on my home page by Africa Geographic, one of my favorite “likes.” (Feel free to “friend me.” I’m easily found by my email address:  jessicablyman@gmail.com).
When I clicked on this video about these two Honey Badgers, we both watched with bated breath. After less than 15 seconds into the video, Tom says, “These are the Honey Badgers we saw at Moholoholo Rehabilitation Centre when we traveled to Blyde River Canyon (which we’d coincidentally mentioned in yesterday’s post).
We realized that the familiar voice was that of the renowned Brian Jones, manager of the facility and world naturalist and advocate for saving the rhinos. While we visited the facility, Brian spoke to the group of visitors in a classroom environment where we were mesmerized by his knowledge and passion for wildlife.
On January 19, 2014, we wrote a story with several photos of our visit to Moholoholo Rehabilitation Centre which was without a doubt, a memorable experiences in many ways as shown in our photos; seeing these same Honey Badgers, interacting with a Cheetah, Vultures, and other animals as shown in our post. If you’d like to review those photos, please click on this link below:
Retracing our steps from such a short time ago has made us realize how little time we actually had to learn about the in-depth characteristics of many of the wildlife we’ve seen in our travels.
It was only while living in Marloth Park for a full three months that we had the glorious opportunity to live amongst the wildlife, observing and studying their behaviors, often on a daily basis, that we actually felt we had a chance to get to know them to some degree.
As for Morocco over the past 24 hours, we had quite a day and night. Before noon each day, Adil stops by to see if we’d like Madame Zahra to cook our dinner, giving her ample time to shop and prepare our dinner. 
The wet floors of the souks required walking with caution as we made our way to a restaurant for dinner.
Yesterday, we declined, after decided to stay in all weekend due to the huge tourist crowd in the souk due to spring break and Easter weekend. Itching to get out, we didn’t give our idea of declining dinner a second thought until a wild rainstorm ensued in the afternoon. 
Lighting and thunder flashed through the air as the pelting rain poured into the riad’s open courtyard. Keeping in mind that riads are built and furnished with the possibility of rain, the house suffered no ill effects. But, when we wanted to go to the bathroom or to refill our iced tea, we had to carefully walk around the edges of the courtyard to avoid getting wet while in the house.
This reminded us of the outdoor living room in the house in Kenya where we lived for three months from September 1, 2013, to November 20, 2013, where we had nowhere to go during rainstorms, other than by moving the outdoor furniture out of the way of the incoming rain to avoid getting wet.
Staying in the salon all day, we waited for the rain to subside so we could leave to go out to dinner. Rain pours into the slats in the souk’s roof leaving the shop owners no alternative but to cover their wares in huge plastic sheets.
By dinnertime, we decided we may as well head out. It appeared the rain would continue well into the evening.  Putting on our hooded jackets, we walked erratically through the souk in a feeble attempt to avoid huge puddles, stepping on grates, and the splashing from the fast-moving motorbikes. 
It was almost an athletic event, as we wove in and out rapidly making our way to the closest restaurant on our favorites list, Arabe. Holding hands as we always do when walking through the souk, watching each step over slippery surfaces, we made it up and back without incident.
Without the opportunity to cook our own meals based on the conditions of the rental, yesterday was a perfect example of a time it was more difficult. We’d never chose to go out on a night when the pouring rain, thunder, and lightning were at full force.
All in all, we made it, after a pleasant dinner returning none the worse for the wear. Tom turned on the little heater in the salon, we bundled up, staying warm as we watched a few of our shows. 
Again, the crowing rooster awoke me at 5:00 am along with the call-to-prayer. Hearing them both at the same time made me chuckle over the irony. In Boveglio Italy, in only a matter of two nights, we adapted to the sound of the bell tower ringing twice an hour. Here, I haven’t yet adapted to the crowing of the rooster. Go figure.
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No photos were posted from one year ago today, April 22, 2013, but the post included a warning from the captain of the ship we were on at the time. 
On occasion, in the past, we didn’t post any photos on some days.  Now, we do so each and every day. On this date a year ago, our ship made a detour to drop off an ill passenger in Bermuda. It was due to this detour that our ship, the Norwegian Epic, ending up in the eye of a storm lasting for three days as told in tomorrow’s year ago story. Please check back tomorrow. For details of the written post for April 22, 2013, with the captain’s warning, please click here.

Almost ready to go…The final expenses for our time in South Africa…Many visitors came to say goodbye!…

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Yesterday afternoon, two Kudus came to call.  Standing by the braai, he nibbled on the leaves of a tree.

All we have left to do is to pack the clothing we’re wearing now and close our bags. Our boarding passes are printed. 

Such a handsome guy.
Then there were two after we’d placed a few of our dwindling pellets on the stone.

The flight from Mpumalanga/Nelspruit to Johannesburg, South Africa has tighter luggage restrictions than our remaining flights but, we are close to complying for all of the flights. 

On the way to the Crocodile River, we saw this baby zebra nursing from its mom.  It looks as if the mom is pregnant again. Hum…does this dispel the thought that nursing moms can’t become pregnant?  Or was this a surrogate mom?

Yesterday was a very special day.  Two Mrs. Warthogs and babies visited us at the African Reunion House. Mr. Tree Frog left us last night, returning this morning. And, in the early afternoon, two male kudus came to call as shown in these precious photos.

Okee Dokee picked us up for one final visit to the Crocodile River. On the way, she stopped to speak to a passing motorist. In Afrikaans, he told her there were many Elephants on the river and to hurry. She translated for us and off we went. Safari luck. 

As we approached the Crocodile River lookout, we spotted only a few of the elephants we saw a moment later when we moved to a better viewing spot.
The Elephants were on the move when something startled them and when they spotted the Rhino on a mad run heading toward them.

Arriving at the river, my breath caught in my throat when we saw dozens of elephants and babies in a large herd. It was hard to believe. As I began taking photos, Okee Dokee spotted a rhino running at full speed toward the elephants. In a matter of seconds, the elephants made a mad dash up the hill of the riverbank leaving dust in their wake.  

There were many more than is shown here, off to the sides.

Rhinos and elephants have little risk from predators but on a rare occasion, they may get into a scuffle.  Something frightened all of them and they ran for their lives. We’ll never know what transpired. But, getting these photos was pure luck, safari luck. In a matter of minutes, they were gone with the exception of a few stranglers at a distance. 

If we’d arrived five minutes later, we’d never have seen them running.

After our last delicious dinner at Jabula Lodge while hanging out with Dawn and Leon, we returned home to find the five zebras standing at the railing waiting for us. How long had they been there? Would we have missed them if we’d stayed out 15 minutes longer or where they bound and determined to wait until we returned? We’ll never know.

They left dust in their wake as they ran to safety.

Feeding them our remaining supply of pellets from our hands, my heart did a flip flop, aching when they finally wandered off. This morning our favorite walking bird, the francolin, padded around the veranda within feet of us. We’ll miss them all.

The zebra family was back waiting for us!

As for our total living expenses in South Africa, including rent, groceries, entertainment, pellets, dining out, tips, airfare, transportation (including the rental car we had for one month), and SIM card and data fees, for a grand total of US $13,120.11, ZAR $146,713 which translates to US $4373.37, ZAR $48,904 for each of the three months we’ve spent in South Africa. 

It was wonderful to see them one more time.

With only a few hours until we walk out the door to begin the long drive to the airport, we’re as well prepared as we can be. Its time to “let go.” Having “let go” of so much in our lives over this past year and a half, this a familiar feeling, one we know we’ll conquer in time.

We happily tossed a few of the remaining pellets their way.

Hopefully, during the upcoming 29 hours of travel time, we’ll have access to an electrical source to charge our equipment, making it possible to document this lengthy journey along the way. 

So, we say goodbye and thank you to Marloth Park, to South Africa, to our friends, human and animal, only hoping that someday we’ll return. A special thank you to Louise and Danie who’s kindness, consideration, generosity, and love added so much to our comfort and enjoyment.

Over the coming years, as we continue on our worldwide journey, on many occasions we’ll tell the story of our glorious experiences in South Africa, bringing tears to our eyes and gratitude to our hearts. 

But, for today, we continue on…

Thank you, Mr. Tree Frog for serving as the mascot for all the “small things” that brought us so much pleasure during our time in Marloth Park. Even you will be remembered.

Saying goodbye to all of our friends, human and animal…Saying goodbye to Marloth Park and South Africa…

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Tangled necks!  Love it!
Yesterday, as we approached the 13 giraffes, we were all excited!
As they began to gather…

 

As they began to untangle…

By far, this is the most difficult of all of the goodbyes since leaving the US many moons ago. Tonight will be our last night’s dinner at Jabula Lodge. Okee Dokee will join us as our guest trying to squeeze out every last moment with her. Saying goodbye to her, to Zeff today, to Dawn and Leon tonight and to Louise and Danie tomorrow, won’t be easy. 

Giraffes hogging the road. We happily waited for them to move.
“Oh, oh, I’d better get out of the way!”

At 4:00 pm today, Okee Dokee will pick us up to head to the Crocodile River one last time to say goodbye to the wildlife in Kruger National Park. 

Mr. Tree Frog sits on his perch in the rafters, returning for the sixth time in these past few weeks at the African Reunion House, staring at us most of the day, occasionally closing his eyes for a nap. 

Clive, our friendly neighborhood Ostrich, was hanging out in the driveway of the same house where we’d first met him, almost three months ago. He also visited us at the little house.
Life is simple for Clive as he wanders about, visiting houses, foraging for vegetation with a “bird’s eye view” of the world.

At 4:00 am I awoke to the sound of him wildly croaking, simply being a frog. If anything, my attachment to him is as if he were a representative for all the “small things” that have brought us so much joy in Marloth Park, let alone the “big things.”

Our resident tree frog continues to watch us most days. He ventures off this ledge in the ceiling of the veranda every few days for food and water, returning to this exact spot. We’ve counted six return visits thus far. How does one find it difficult to say goodbye to a frog? With the same childlike wonder, we all possessed at one time, that freely come to the surface when living in this wonderland.

Mrs. Warthog and babies stopped by several times yesterday as if she knows we’re leaving soon. We hope to see them one more time.

Giraffe at sunset.

The photos we’re posting today were taken yesterday morning when Louise and Danie picked us up at the tented lodge. Only a few blocks from the African Reunion House, we were “gifted” with a few joy-filled sightings; 13 giraffes near the road, “Clive,” the ostrich, and later in the day, two giraffes walking through the yard on a mission. 

These two were more interested in this tasty bush than us taking photos with flash as night fell.

I was on a Skype call with my sister and didn’t take photos, instead, describing every detail to her as they raced through the yard. (We don’t always use video on Skype to keep data use under control when talking to grownups).

Packed? Almost done. Yesterday, I tossed out no less than 10 pounds, 4.5 kg of old worn clothing. I think the weight of my bags will be OK. It’s funny how I now have little interest in clothing, shoes, and accessories, only needing enough until the next wash cycle.

A few minutes ago, Tom asked me if I feel sad about leaving. I do. I know that once the guy meets us at the taxi stand (no cars allowed in the Medina) with the little wooden cart to wheel our luggage the 10-minute walk to our new home, Dar Aicha, in Marrakesh, Morocco, where we’ll reside for the next two and a half months, I’ll be smiling and once again taking photos.

See if you can find five giraffe heads popping up in the bush!

But, the memories of Marloth Park, Kruger Park, and South Africa will linger in our hearts and minds forever, eternally grateful for the experience. We’ve changed in many ways from our time in South Africa, and again in Kenya. How we’ve changed has not been easy to describe.

We’ve become more tolerant of discomfort, more attune to our surroundings, more appreciative of the perfection that God created (or whatever or whomever you may believe as our maker) when He created us, His creatures, and His vegetation, all which is magical in the manner in which it relates to our universe.

For only a second, he picked up his head out from this bush.

We’ve come to understand that the oldest human remains found on this planet were found in Africa, known as the “Cradle of Mankind.”  The science and history are clear. It’s no wonder to me that I’ve felt a powerful sensation of being “home” while in Africa. Perhaps, that infinitesimal aspect of our DNA explains this phenomenon for me.

I’ve come to better understand my way of eating while in Africa while watching the animals forage for what their bodies need. Man/woman was intended to eat the available food in their environment, the hunter-gatherer concept; meat and vegetation, the core of my daily diet. 

It’s all here in Africa, the vast array of nuts growing wild and farmed, the free-range chickens and resulting eggs, the grass-fed meat, and a plethora of vegetation befitting human consumption, easily grown in the chemical-free fertile soil in a land that overall, abhors chemicals in food. 

Thus, dear readers, we continue on…on to our unknown future, less fearful, more accepting, more at peace than ever before. We hope and pray for safe travel, however long and discomfited, to bring us to our next location, eyes wide open, full of wonder, and grateful to be alive.

Note: Tomorrow, before leaving for the airport in the early afternoon, we’ll post the total of final expenses for the three months we’ve spent in South Africa. As we travel to Morocco, we’ll be posting at varying times, in real-time, as to the progress on our 29-hour journey, while on four separate flights as we transverse the continent of Africa.

Close to our house, this giraffe was checking us out.  Unless a lion or leopard sneaks into Marloth Park (which happened a few times during our stay) there is little danger for most of the wildlife which primarily is herbivores. Their natural instinct keeps them constantly on the lookout for predators.  Lions and leopards can take down a giraffe.

A night sleeping in a tent on the exciting Crocodile River…An unexpected sojourn…”safari luck” prevails once again…Six day old baby elephant!…

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Sunset over the Crocodile River in Kruger National Park. The power lines have become a necessary addition to the tremendous amount of security and tourism, a mainstay of survival of this massive wildlife area. This photo was taken from the veranda of our pleasing accommodations at the Crocodile Bridge Safari Camp where we slept in a tent last night.

Wow! This unbelievable ray of light captured our attention. Sunsets in Africa have been out of this world!


The clouds opened after the rain and presented this view.

The thought of spending a night away from the African Reunion House so close to leaving for Morocco, with the packing hanging over our heads, didn’t appeal to us at first. But, when Louise and Danie had taken the time to arrange this complimentary overnight stay for us in a tent at the Crocodile Bridge Safari Lodge, we could hardly refuse.

Although the walls of our accommodations had tent material  on three sides, it was made to appear as a cottage. The veranda is on the opposite side within feet of the electrified fence to Kruger National Park, keeping tourists safe from the big game. Allen and Scott showed us a video of elephants that had come directly up to the fence. 
We were impressed with this bed and quality sheets and covers. A long night’s sleep would have been possible if we weren’t so anxious to go back outside early in the morning. (The white line running vertically through Tom is actually a pull string for the overhead light).
The communal dining, bar and entertainment areas. Bed and breakfast options were available for a small additional fee. We had perfect mushroom and onion omelets with “streaky” bacon this morning, a real treat!
In the first 15 minutes after unpacking our duffel bag, computer bag, and a cloth bag filled with power cords, we knew we’d made the right decision. Spending one of our three remaining nights in South Africa, situated on the shore of the wildlife-rich Crocodile River while viewing the action in Kruger National Park is hard to beat. 
See the entire African Tulip Tree with more of these blossoms below.

 

Beautiful vegetation is abundant along the banks of the Crocodile River, some, natural to the area, others imported over the years by foreign property owners.

Perhaps, in a way, our 19 hours at the camp is a perfect way to wind down our time in South Africa while sleeping in a tent with AC (which we didn’t need to use), with a comfortable bed and an almost-outdoor shower. Add the divine pleasure of listening to the sounds of one of the largest natural bird sanctuaries in the world and the bubbling hum of the hippos only enhanced the richness of our experience.

Scott explained that last Tuesday over an extended period they heard the cries of this mother elephant as she gave birth. Over the next few days, they saw this baby. By far, this was the tiniest baby elephant we’ve seen in all of our travels. 
Our camera doesn’t have a powerful enough zoom for a clearer photo from this range with its 20X Zoom. In the next few weeks, we’ll be purchasing a new camera after testing Allen’s  powerful and lightweight 50x Zoom. Most likely, we’ll make the purchase and have it shipped to us while we’re in Morocco.

Louise dropped us off at the Crocodile Bridge Safari Lodge late yesterday afternoon, on the absolute hottest day we’ve experienced in South Africa. The sky was rapidly shifting as ominous-looking clouds wafted in. We needed rain and we needed it fast to defray the scorching heat and uncomfortable humidity. 

So sweet.
The baby nursing. Check out the gigantic size of the matriarch of this family in comparison to the younger females. She may be the grandmother of the baby. Females only give birth once every five years with a gestation period of 22 months. The calf begins to nurse at birth and may continue to nurse for up to two years.


As shown there were two larger babies in the herd of six elephants.

Allen and Scott, the co-owners warmly greeted us and helped us get situated in the clean, comfortable tent which is more like a cabin than a tent with it own veranda situated well above the ground providing expansive views of the riverbank.

The varied bird species could keep an bird enthusiast busy for many days.
This appears to be the same bird as above with more fluffy gray feathers. Note the elephant in the background of this photo. 


There were four of these colorful birds hanging out on the electrified fence, obviously not triggered by their light weight. This is the White Fronted Bee Eater.
Although I was anxious to start taking photos, I was so hot and sweaty that I didn’t know what to do with myself. The thought of turning on the AC and sitting in the tent was hardly appealing. After chatting with Allen and Scott, I put on my bathing suit and Tom stripped off his shirt which seemed to help as we sat at the table and chairs on the veranda and diligently began to scan the river for signs of life.
Cape buffalo from afar.

Then, “safari luck” kicked in, as it often does as we spent the next few hours with our eyes glued to the river bank as evidenced in these photos. In no time at all the wind picked up and with it came a cool breeze and rain. Relief.  t only rained for a short period, leaving behind a cool evening which we spent at the communal lounge/kitchen area, a short walk from our tent with both owners and their lovely wives, Caron and Michelle.

The Crocodile Bridge Safari Lodge is intended to be self-catered, but, last night as their dinner guests they prepared a well rounded and delicious meal, paying special attention to my dietary needs. 

The evening flew by as the eight of us, including another South Africa couple, Amy and Dudley, engaged in lively and animated conversation well into the evening. What’s with South African people being so kind and such fun?  We’re grateful to have encountered this amazing level of warmth and hospitality over these past three months.

Hippos lined the river frequently making their pleasing sounds.

Awakening after a comfortable, albeit, short night’s sleep, to the sound of the hippos at 5:30 am, we could hardly wait to get outside. The morning in Kruger National Park had begun. As light filtered through the clouds, we could see the Crocodile Bridge at a short distance, where we had entered the park on numerous occasions over the past three months.

We were in fact amidst the wild animals lurking along the river’s edge protected by an electrified fence as is common in areas where humans and wildlife intermingle.  South Africa and the park boards are diligent about avoiding life threatening injuries or death from attacks to humans from predatory animals in the wild. 

Tom’s good eye spotted this large crocodile lounging on a sandbar.

The accommodations were more appealing than one might expect from a moderately priced tented camp.  All of the common hotel amenities were in place:  soaps, bottled water, ample fluffy white towels, quality bedding, a power strip for electronics, and soft lighting for night reading. 

It is an ideal location for nature lovers, interested in river viewing, safari walks, bush braais, and game drives in Kruger National Park.  The close proximity to grocery shopping and restaurants made this an easy location. 

View to the pool from the communal dining area.

The singing of numerous bird species was practically ear splitting at times, causing us to laugh. Nature at its finest. We couldn’t have enjoyed it more.

After our hosts served us a delicious hot breakfast, and after engaging in more interesting travel conversations (South Africans are well traveled), we were ready to return to the African Reunion House to begin the looming task of packing for the next leg of our journey.

Our hosts explained that this little bird or one similar hangs out in this area on the grounds of the lodge on a regular basis.

Two days until we depart. Two days remaining in what has been a heavenly experience. Two days until another chapter in the lives of two crazy seniors who left everything behind to see the world. Two days, then on to the rest of our lives, that after only 16 months, has only just begun…

Is running out of new photos an issue?…What do we do in the event this occurs?…A trip to the local dump proved to be interesting…

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At the Marloth Park dump, we found these Marabou Storks everywhere.  If photo ops don’t come to us, we’ll go to them.

Writing every day is challenging at times, especially when we’re kicking back and relaxing. Would one have photos and stories to share in their everyday lives? Hardly.

In our old lives, weeks could go by without a single thought of taking a photo. Also, we’d never learned to take photos. Life was too busy to take on another hobby. As a result, we only used a camera on special occasions, neither of us showing a propensity toward any skill. 

For me, no skill? No interest. That’s how perfectionist-types operate. That’s why I don’t play golf. For that matter, Tom, good at most sports, hasn’t played much golf either, getting easily frustrated when he doesn’t play well enough by his own standards.

From afar, these birds look pretty. Up close, not so cute in the face. These birds are carnivorous eating other birds, carrion scraps, small rodents and have a propensity for human garbage and can digest rotten animal matter.

Now, back to posting daily and it’s challenging…

Yesterday morning, after posting, today’s post was fast approaching as being one of those days that writing this blog left me stymied. I had no new photos to post. I could run around the yard to look for small things or interesting vegetation or even, if necessary, stand in the road waiting for a photo-worthy event.

The height of a Marabou Stork is approximately 152 cm, 60 inches; weight is 9 kg, 20 pounds; the wingspan is 3.7 m, 12 feet. They have the largest wingspan of any bird. The Marloth Park dump is thoroughly cleaned out every few weeks. It is where many of the locals bring their garbage with only a small percentage having pickup service. We haven’t observed any recycling in Kenya or South Africa.

To prepare for our upcoming dinner party on Monday, Okee Dokee picked me up at 11:00 am Saturday morning to go to Komatipoort for groceries. Having created a menu and a grocery list I was ready to tackle the weekend crowds at the strip mall. 

While waiting in line at the grocery store, I mentioned to Okee Dokee that in the past 16 months since leaving Minnesota I’d yet to purchase any underwear. Add the fact that we’d unloaded so many clothing items along the way, my inventory was sparse and worn to the point of ridiculousness. I’d never gone so long without purchasing undergarments or clothing for that matter. 

The Marabou Stork will eat anything it can swallow, including shoes, clothing, and tin cans. They can become aggressive if fed by humans when they are refused food. Although not vultures, their behavior exceeds the traits of vultures whose diet consists of animal remains.

Having whipped through the grocery store quickly, she led me to a local clothing shop. I was pleasantly surprised when we entered the store. Although a small shop, there was clothing for women, men, and children of all ages. We promptly headed to the women’s underwear department where, upon approaching, I squealed with delight. They had rather modern items and styles, all reasonably priced and of decent quality. I’d have to toss the old stuff, avoiding increasing our luggage weight.

Ten minutes later, a bra and eight pairs of panties were being rung up for a grand total of US $23.16, ZAR $259. What? In the US, I would easily have spent US $75, ZAR $838.67 for this type of quality. What’s wrong with this picture?

After making the purchase we headed to the ATM area with two machines, neither of which was working, prompting us to head back to the ATM at the Marloth Park Bush Center which once again worked with ease. 

This injured zebra was near the road when we drove by. It wasn’t enclosed in a fenced area. This fence happened to be on the edge of a property. This injury could easily have been a result of a kick from another zebra. The distended belly of a zebra is common. Their intestinal tract is such that they become bloated with gas from eating massive amounts of vegetation each day. They are prolific at passing gas, as we’ve heard fro time to time. Hopefully, this injury heals on its own.

Afterward, we drove down one of the two only paved roads in the park. Okee Dokee, aware of my photo dilemma quickly made a sharp left turn into the local dump. (As yet, we hadn’t seen any wildlife). Wouldn’t you know, the dump was not only littered with garbage (which is entirely removed every few weeks), but was also littered with what I’d originally thought were beautiful Marabou Storks. 

Thus, the photos we’re showing today are the storks we found at the dump. Leave it to Okee Dokee! As we slowly meandered down the road toward African Reunion House I chuckled. I don’t recall ever taking a camera to the grocery store in my old life.

This morning at 6:30 am while contemplating getting up I heard animal sounds outside. Quietly and slowly I exited to the bedroom to look out the full wall of glass to the garden. Scattered among the bush were no less than 50 impalas, 25 Helmeted Guinea-Fowls with chicks, and one large lone male warthog.

Male impalas along the side of the main road in Marloth Park on our return drive from grocery shopping.

Quickly I awoke Tom, and together as quietly as possible, we opened the door to the veranda, camera in hand.  Alas, the impalas scattered, but the warthog and the “guinea hens,” as Tom calls them, stayed behind. 

Mr.Warthog was very shy, as we’ve noticed in the lone males. He meandered about the garden for a half-hour finally checking out the pellets, deciding to partake. The guinea hens and chicks had a blast picking away at the large pellets, easily knocking them into smaller pieces. Even they are fun to watch.

The baby warthogs are getting huge. When the mom is ready to mate again, she’ll leave the babies to fen for themselves as their own maturing life cycle begins. This particular mom has been a favorite of mine.  She has no fear of me, makes eye contact that is endearing, and is such a good mom, holding back while the babies eat the pellets first. I always make a point of tossing several in front of her and only then does she eat them. Warthogs eat on their front knees which have tough pads from the day they’re born.

As for the rest of today, this morning after posting, we’re heading to the little house to pack all of our stuff to bring it here for packing. Originally, we’d planned to do it on Tuesday, the morning after the dinner party. But, we decided to get it done and off of our minds. 

We’ll put everything in the main floor guest room, shutting the door until Tuesday when we’re ready to begin the dreadful task of sorting and packing everything we own into two large suitcases, two overnight bags, one duffel bag, and two computer bags. Everything we own. More dwindling down. Letting go of more stuff due to increased weight restrictions over prior flights.

Busy day…One more trip to Komatipoort, after all..Six days and counting…A little whining is in order…

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Baby warthog, standing by the braai. “What’s on the menu?” he inquires. “Pellets, I hope!”

One week from today, at 5:45 am, after a full night of flying, we’ll be getting off the plane in Cairo, Egypt for a three and a half hour layover until we board another plane to Casablanca, Morocco for another six-hour flight with almost a two-hour layover. Then another flight to Marrakesh, arriving at 3:35 pm.”

I can only hope we’ll have managed to get enough sleep during the eight-hour red-eye to avoid feeling awful. Oh, we can’t stay up all night as well as we were able when younger.

Tom is fussing as the time to depart nears, today only six days away; the 29 hours from leaving this house to arriving in Marrakesh; waiting times at the various airports; handling our luggage at every layover at least three times; the actual time on the flights, the longest eight hours, next six hours, and two for shorter periods.

Mom and four babies eating the pellets we left for the zebra, whom we hope will soon reappear. We’d left a few carrots for him also, but this group had no interest in the carrots.

Whether I’m Clive, the Ostrich, with my head in the sand, I prefer not to worry, my only concern being a safe arrival. Between us, we have all the possible worries covered. Good grief. We don’t like this part.

As a matter of fact, this upcoming week is the hardest part of our travels. This time, we have the added element of going to the little house to pack everything still there to bring here to the African Reunion House to begin the painful process of packing it all together.

With our upcoming “goodbye party” on Monday at 5:00 pm, we’ve postponed the dreadful job of clearing our stuff from the little house until Tuesday morning. If we picked it all up now, we’d have our stuff strewn all over the main floor, not a pretty sight for a dinner party. Tuesday, it will be. 

Good thing I no longer drink alcohol (due to the high sugar content) or I may have been agonizing with a hangover, a common occurrence in my old days even after only a few glasses of red wine. Tom, on the other hand, never suffers after a party if he imbibes in a few too many, a rare occurrence in itself.

I told Tom that if warthogs had been our only visitors in the three months in Marloth Park, I’d have been happy.  As a young child, I had an imaginary character with me at all times, “Piggy.” At five years old, as we drove across the US from California to Boston, Massachusetts to visit my beloved grandmother, my mother made my father stop on the highway in Sweetwater, Texas, to let “Piggy” out of the car. It was time for me to grow up. I cried all the way to Boston. This memory, emblazoned in mind 60 years later, left me fascinated with pigs. 

In a perfect world, we’d take all of this in our stride. But, let’s face it. We’ve taken quite a lot in our stride and this isn’t it. If Tom wasn’t feeling angst-ridden, I’d be fine. No matter what I say or do, I can’t seem to help lessen his frustration that there was no such thing as a direct flight from Johannesburg to Marrakesh.

So there it is. Our temporary, albeit, frustrating state of being over the next week, a price we pay for choosing this otherwise glorious life. There’s no “free lunch.” We can only find comfort in the reality that a week from tonight, we’ll be situated (most likely not totally unpacked) in our new home, called Dar Aicha, with Madame Zahra preparing and serving us our first meal.

I find comfort in recalling our painstaking over 24 hours travel time to Kenya from Italy, arriving in Mombasa at 6:00 am then boarding a rickety van to cross the river on a ferry and drive over an hour to Diani Beach to our awaiting home. We rested for a few hours, later heading out to the grocery shop. 

I remember how tired, but excited we were, defraying the feelings of exhaustion. Hopefully, these 29 hours won’t be much different and, after a good night’s sleep, the next day we’ll head to a grocery store for snacks. It should be easier that we don’t have to shop and cook when we arrive.

Late yesterday afternoon we discovered this insect which is over 4 inches, 10.6 cm long.

Now, getting back to the moment, my goal over the next several days is to stay calm while savoring our last days in Marloth Park. With the pelting rain over the last few days, the only visitors we’ve had is the skinny warthog mom with four fast-maturing babies. The larger animals stay under cover during the heavy rains. 

Last night, before dinner, we were driven indoors when it was too wet on the veranda to stay outside. We hunkered down in the cooled-down bedroom, watched a weird, yet the well-acted movie, “Her,” with the last third left to finish tonight. 

Overall, we’re good, with the enthusiastic anticipation of our upcoming dinner party on Monday night and a quiet weekend at home in the African Reunion House, a blessing until we leave.  Perhaps, more visitors will come by now that the rain has stopped. 

In the meanwhile, we wait for Mr. Tree Frog to return for a fifth time to his favorite perch on the rafters of the veranda. I heard some croaking in our immediate area on the veranda as I write this, wondering if it’s him.

I realize that all the photos of Mr. Tree Frog look-alike. But this was taken at 6:00 pm yesterday after his fourth return after leaving for 12 to 24 hours over the past week. His continued return visits have been a source of curiosity for us.

Soon, Okee Dokee will arrive to take me to Komatipoort for groceries for the upcoming party. Had we not arranged the party, we’d have had plenty of food to get us through the next several days while dining out a few times. But, an opportunity to say “thank you” to more of our local friends supersedes our desire for “easy.”

It’s the simple things that have made life in Marloth Park amazing and memorable and we hope to continue to embrace every moment of our remaining time in its midst.

Today, another year older…Acceptance…Fulfilling a lifelong dream…A new visitor came to call…A previous visitor returned…

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Last night during our quiet dinner party for four on the veranda at the African Reunion House, we heard a sound in the distance. Moments later, we heard the “thump, thump” sound of hooves. Less then 20 feet, 6 meters, from us stood this adorable zebra.  Grabbing pellets and carrots, we all had an opportunity to interact with him, unable to wipe the smiles off of our faces. Without a doubt, he’ll be back.

Finally, I’ve begun to accept that we’re leaving South Africa, with the knowledge that we’ll still be on the continent of Africa for almost three more months. 

Our first zebra visitor at the African Reunion House was welcomed with open arms.

As a young girl, I dreamed of Africa hoping that someday this dream would be realized. At 17, ready to graduate high school, I longed to join the Peace Corps. Still underage, my mother refused to let me go. But, here I am today, enriched and fulfilled after spending the past almost six months in Africa with more time to be savored in the exotic Morocco, a world away from Marloth Park. 

Our friend Kathy got up close and personal with him, hand feeding him pellets. As a hostess gift for our dinner gathering, Kathy and Linda brought us a big bag of pellets, instead of the usual wine, flowers or candy. Nothing could have been more appropriate when we were running low. How did they know we needed pellets?

Almost 50 years is a long time to carry around a dream. Why was it so long in coming? Life. Kids. Work. Responsibilities. Time. Money. All of these.

Today, on my 66th birthday, I can only smile feeling grateful in many ways; to my husband for making this adventure possible and for his willingness to spread his wings to leave a lifetime of comfort and familiarity; to our family for accepting our decision to leave Minnesota and the US; to our friends for graciously supporting our decision; for our health which, without it, none of this would have been possible; and for the new friends we’ve made along the way that have opened their homes and hearts to us.

Tom feeding the visiting Zebra carrots.  I didn’t care if we ran out of carrots and couldn’t make our usual coleslaw.   

Gee, this sounds like an Academy Awards acceptance speech! However, birthdays, after age 60 years, seem to revolve around acceptance. It includes acceptance of changes in ourselves; the changes in our health, our bodies, our memory, our energy level and most of all, our motivation. 

One might think it’s just “too much work” to travel to Africa; the required inoculations; the malaria pills; the risk of illness, injury, disease; the necessity to become tolerant of the heat and humidity often with no air conditioning; dealing with the fears of snakes and insects; accepting the lengthy travel time and, the daunting task of finding the best place to live.

He was actually much taller than he appears in these photos. We were standing on the edge of the veranda while he was standing in a lower spot in the bush. I was so excited I paid no attention to my camera settings, resulting in the darkened shot.

All of these reasons and more may leave a prospective traveler with the sense that it’s just too much trouble to travel to Africa. Amid all of these reasons, somehow, we got ourselves here. 

Tom has surprised me. I thought he’d never want to visit Africa. And when we lived outside on that veranda in Kenya, not by choice but by necessity, in the blistering heat and drenching humidity, with the biting insects, with the almost daily power outages, he somehow made it through with dignity and grace. 

Kathy’s hand reaching out to feed him a piece of carrot that he loved.

And I, too, made it through, albeit with my raging fear of centipedes, sweating in the heat, knowing that complaining served no purpose, especially when I was the one that wanted to go to Africa.

And now, these past almost three months, outdoors on the veranda no less than 15 hours a day, often in the heat and humidity, at times with biting insects and snakes, yes and snakes, we haven’t felt it was a struggle.  Acceptance. It kicked in almost three months ago, when they came to see us. The animals. It came to us almost six months ago, when we arrived in Kenya, knowing a safari in the Masai Mara was imminent.

The discomfort wafted away, replaced by something magical, the likes of which neither of us has ever known and most likely, will never know again. The animals. The people. The environment. Amazing.

Mr. Tree Frog was gone during dinner last night, but reappeared for the fourth time this morning. We can’t figure out why he likes this particular spot. Most likely, he loves to eat and drink, perhaps swim in the pool, only to return to this exact spot. I looked for information on tree frog behavior, unable to find an explanation.

We’ve been given a gift by Louise and Danie by completing our remaining time in Marloth Park in the luxurious African Reunion House by, a gift we couldn’t turn down. Each day more and more visitors stop by as if welcoming us in their area, their home in the bush. 

With more visitors coming here, we have no reason to return to the little house, other than to stop over on Monday, pack all of our belongings to bring it all to one house to pack for the upcoming trip to Morocco next Friday.

We can now say goodbye, knowing that when and if our health and time is right, we can return to Marloth Park, perhaps to go on safari again in the Masai Mara, Kenya, to finally see Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe and to travel to Rwanda to see the Gorillas and to once again embrace Africa and its wonders.

And, if for one reason or another we cannot return, we’ll always hold the memories of our time in Africa deep within our hearts, our minds, and our spirits.

Today, I celebrate my birthday, not as one more year of this life passing by. Instead, I celebrate the acceptance for all that I’ve loved, for all that I’ve learned, and for all that is yet to come. 

Change in plans…A fabulous day wiith the “ladies that lunch”…Beautiful vegetation and scenery away from Marloth Park…Tom’s familiar pleasure…

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No one was handy to take a photo of the three of us.  Linda and I had to suffice. The Buhari Lodge was located on the Crocodile River.

Change in plans?  Yep, we’ve been invited by Louise and Danie to stay at the African Reunion House for the weekend, which will leave us four remaining nights at the little house down the road.

My wonderful friends Linda and Kathy, (left to right) who live part-time in Marloth Park.

Hoping to see more wildlife was temporarily pushed aside for our comfort for the upcoming long weekend we’ll remain here. We sleep better here with more powerful AC in the bedroom and a larger more comfortable bed.  We can stay outdoors all day with fewer flies (the price of having many visitors pooping in the yard at the little house). And, dining outdoors, here is divine. 

I’d never seen papaya trees growing in the orchard at Buhala Lodge in such numbers. The fruit was not quite ready for harvesting.

Thank you once again, Louise and Danie. We’re very grateful for everything you’ve done for us.

Papayas grow in a massive orchard on the grounds of the lodge which is separated by an electrified fence in Kruger National Park.

We can only hope that when we return on Monday, our visitors will hear us and return. You can be assured, I’ll be walking around the garden, dropping a trail of pellets while using my high pitched (embarrassing) voice, calling to them.

A sole hippo near the river’s edge.  We weren’t able to determine what was in the rear of this photo.

Within minutes of our arrival in Marloth Park on December 1, 2013, we had our first visitor and then they came in droves over the next several days and weeks. Hopefully, the same will occur during our remaining four days at the little house.

A Cape Buffalo munching on the vegetation along the shore of the river.

Yesterday, the lunch with Kathy and Linda was exemplary. The location, an out of the way quaint resort, Buhala Lodge,  a 35-minute drive. The quiet lodge was surrounded by a fruit farm creating some eye-catching scenery as shown in our photos today. The service and food were delightful. 

As is typical in Africa, properties are adorned with local art.

 

The indoor lounge at the lodge that offers 10 guest rooms.

The veranda, where at first we lounged on the sofa, provided an excellent view of the Crocodile River. Later we moved to the table at the far left.

A deck where guests watch the activity on the river, especially at sunset, an experience we’ve had many times at various locations over the past almost three months.

I purchased dinner to bring home to Tom and the total bill for both meals with tip was only ZAR $205, US $18.33. In the US, I’d easily spend 20% more for only one lunch, beverage, and tip, let alone a second meal to go. The cost of living in South Africa is considerably less than anywhere we’ve lived.

Once we returned to Marloth Park, the wildlife prevailed.
Mom and baby zebra, larger than the baby, we posted yesterday.

Tonight, Kathy and Linda are coming for dinner, giving us the opportunity to enjoy their companionship one last time and finally reciprocate for inviting us to their homes.  The two husbands are out of town at one of their other residences. Tonight, Tom will be surrounded by three lively, opinionated women, which no doubt he’ll thoroughly enjoy.

A curious baby wildebeest.  Linda and Kathy explained that wildebeest seldom visit the homes in Marloth Park.  No wonder we’ve only seen one prance through the yard in a hurry.

As I look at him now, sitting at the table on the veranda at the African Reunion House on a gorgeous day, I can’t help but smile. His earpieces are in place to avoid disturbing me as I write, as he listens each day to the favorite radio show from Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA, entitled “Garage Logic.” 

When riding in a car, it’s difficult to tie up traffic for too long while waiting for the various wildlife to pick up their heads for photos.

Although listening to an online radio show for two hours, five days a week uses a ton of data (we budgeted for this) it brings him considerable pleasure, often resulting in fits of laughter, sharing a morsel with me that makes no sense out of context.

This was the largest male Wildebeest we’ve seen in the park.

In this life, we each find pleasure and fulfillment in many ways. For me, taking photos and writing each and every day brings a sense of connectedness and joy that is difficult to describe. 

But, more than the photos and the writing is “living” the experiences that provide the fodder for our stories that we can only hope will continue to pique our reader’s curiosity and interest as we move on to our next adventure.

Nine days and counting…

The colorful rocks of the mountains and hills in South Africa have been a sight to behold.

A ”girls only” lunch date today…Baby photos along the road in Marloth Park…Birthday coming up…Less fearful…

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The zebra on the right is a youngster, born earlier this season. The one on the left was most likely born in the last four weeks. What a joy to see these in Marloth Park while on our way to Komatipoort for grocery shopping.

Taking photos from inside a moving vehicle is difficult. If we get out of the vehicle, they’ll take off.

It’s a busy week in the bush as we wind down our last 10 days. Today, my two new friends, Kathy and Linda, are arriving to pick me up at 11:30 for a surprise location for a pre-birthday luncheon. 

Mom and baby zebra as we zoomed past, cars behind us.

The last time I participated in a “girls only” lunch was a few days before we left Minnesota in October 2012 with the close group of four of us in the old neighborhood; Sue, Jamie, Nelleke, and I. We were friends for 26 years with meaningful friendships, all left behind, all of us now staying in touch by email.

What a face! We saw many giraffes along the road on the way out of Marloth Park. The fluffy ossicones indicate this is a female.

Of course, we miss our grown children, spouses, and grandchildren, soon to be together again in 10 months in Hawaii at Christmas. But, we couldn’t make a decision to travel the world such as we have, only to carry regrets or grieve those we love and miss.

Too busy munching treetops to offer a good pose.

The friendships that we nurtured for many years are maintained through Facebook and email. But, lunch with new friends? A treasured experience. Anticipated. Appreciated.

Our birthdays, always celebrated in the past with the utmost of excitement and expectations, now seem important only in the fact that it means we’re blessed with another year of life, perhaps a little wiser, possessing an unstoppable desire to continue on, for as long as we can as we age. 

Emotionally? Our enthusiasm has only increased over time, now that we’ve left behind the apprehension and fear that traveled with us in the beginning. As we’ve become more resilient, more readily adapting to the continuing change of environment, we’ve found the most stressful times are the “flying” days, not the “living” days. 

And yes, there is a bit of trepidation over the upcoming 29 hours from door to door starting on the 28th. I try not to think about possible delays which could cause us to miss one of the four flights in order to arrive in Marrakesh, Morocco. Missing one flight could easily upset the remaining flights. We know from experience, such an occurrence is more likely than not.

Mrs. Warthog a regular visitor to African Reunion House is weaning her four babies. She sits down when they try to suckle. Her eyes follow our movements as she rests in the garden, hoping we send a few more pellets her way. When we toss the pellets, she stands off to the side, letting the babies get them first. What good moms they are! We make a point of tossing some of the pellets directly in front of her to ensure she isn’t left out.

On Thursday this week, we’ll move back to the original smaller house to begin the packing, again requiring more lightening of the load. Our baggage was overweight on the last flights, but somehow we skated through without incurring additional baggage fees. Unable to imagine what more I can give away off of my of my limited clothing supply, the task remains challenging.

The road to Komatipoort, once we’re outside of the Marloth Park security gates. The 25-minute drive goes quickly when Okee Dokee and I tell endless stories resulting in much laughter. We’ll miss her, too.

Part of me is anxious to return on Thursday, to the familiar house and wildlife for our final eight days. Maybe we’ll see Big Boy Warthog again or Kudu Kevin or multiples Mrs. Warthogs and babies. And, maybe if safari luck kicks in, giraffes and zebras will visit one more time before we leave. If not, we certainly have had more visits than we ever imagined.

Photo taken yesterday after this tree frog returned to his favorite spot on a beam on the veranda roof. He must have left for a few days to eat and drink returning yesterday to this same spot. Like us, animals are “creatures of habit.”

We’ve loved the three weeks total we’ll have spent between Kyaha Umdani and the African Reunion House, each with its own unique charms. 

Thursday night, the actual day of my birthday, we plan to go to Jabula which is all the celebration I need or want. Being with Tom and the familiar faces at Jabula is in itself a celebration.

Another Tree Frog was lounging on the wicker chair only a few feet from the tree frog in the rafters. We heard noises back and forth between the two.  Perhaps, mating is on the horizon, but, we haven’t seen a white foam nest near the pool.
Yesterday, Okee Dokee and I made our last trip to Komatipoort for groceries during which I took the photos shown here today. A simple trip for groceries proves to be a heartwarming experience while driving through Marloth Park. 
We hope that we haven’t bored our readers with endless photos of warthogs. This is a fast-growing baby in the above photo. These playful, smart, adorable animals are as enjoyable as the two dogs we grew to love in Kenya, Jessie, and Gucci. I know it may sound crazy to love “pigs” but the residents of Marloth Park feel the same way we do, adoring their familiar and frequently visiting warthogs. Dogs or any pets of any type aren’t allowed in Marloth Park. The warthogs, although still wild, thriving off of the vegetation in the bush, fulfill our desire for the companionship we’ve experienced with pets in our lives.
Having purchased enough data to last until we depart, last night we calculated how many more meals we’ll eat in, as opposed to dining out using as many of the ingredients we have on hand and food in the refrigerator and freezer. Each time we leave a country, we use most of the food, mainly through careful planning.
This and the other babies will eventually be shooed away by their mom as she prepares to mate for another litter. Occasionally, we’ve seen two males hanging out together or a female and a male contemplating mating. With summer in Africa now, the primary mating season has ended. In April or May, the warthog mating season is at its peak. The gestation period of five to six months results in babies being born in October and November.
Last night, we cooked dinner; tender, thick fillets, veggies, and salad. Having downloaded a number of our favorite shows on Graboid yesterday, we were set for the evening’s entertainment which is always accompanied by the frequent pausing of the video we’re watching when we hear sounds in the bush. 
This mom’s ribs are showing which is the first case we’ve seen. This may have prompted her to stop nursing to gain nourishment from the upcoming winter beginning on June 22 when the vegetation is sparse. Warthogs dig up roots to eat during the winter months.

The tree frog returned to his favorite spot on the rafters after a two-day disappearance. Trying to figure out a tree frog’s behavior makes us laugh. In a way, our lives have become mighty simple when we’re able to spend time trying to analyze a frog.