Hello. My name is Oliber Ebay – according to the African guy who wrote down my name as I was telling him how to spell it. Please update your records.

Ryan and I had been invited to go camp in the South African bush overnight with Cornell (a Scandinavian Gap Year Student Pimp who runs a volunteer project exclusively for scandanavian girls) and his happy campers. So as the sun was starting to descend over the bush scrubland backdrop we set off from hippo pools to go up the road to the entrance to the Farm. At the gate we checked in with the ranger who informed us that the gate would close at 9 and open at 6. We trundled on the worst dirt roads that my ass has seen in a long time, either side was bush with about 10 ft visibility before the trees and shrubs swallowed up the view. Tell tale signs of Elephant activity were common place – Big piles of dung in the road and torn down trees either side of the road. Elephants tend to rip up trees where they can either out of boredom, natural instinct (to create grassland – their natural living habitat – or simply to scratch there big fat elephant asses.

It took about 45 minutes to find the camp as I downed an ice cold beer which I managed to swipe out of the cool box in the back while the sun set behind us.

When we arrived at the camp it was deserted

– 6 pitched tents had been left deserted to we decided to (well I decided) to get a fire going and wait for the Cornell and his harem of Danish birds to return.

My bush skills left somewhat to be desired as I was trying to get the kindling to light with the help of dried grass and a car cigarette lighter. This Failed miserably although the author would like to note that help was not forthcoming so he did his best). As I considered rubbing some sticks together we heard the rumble of a car engine coming up the track.

The Evening unfolded around the campfire which was skilfully lit with the use of fire lighters and a big box of matches situated no less than 2 foot way from where I had been sat on my previous dismal attempts and making fire.

We all sat around and chatted. Cornell produced the worlds biggest steak from the back of his pick up truck – probably a 3 kg steak.

So then the conversation turned to the camp. This is when the reality of the situation slowly dawned on me.

We were in an unfenced camp in the great Kruger park in an area renowned for its Elephant and Lion activity.

“So what is to stop a lion entering the camp” I asked – secretly hoping the answer would result in Cornell producing an Elephant Gun or an answer to the effect of that would never happen.

“well nothing” Cornell Responded. “But if it is any consolation the Hyenas or Elephants are more likely to get you first” I scanned my immediate vicinity for a weapon of some kind that I could use in the likely event of a Lion wanting to eat me.

The best I could come up with was a cork screw.

It would have to do it was that or colourful language. .

Eva on of the Danish girls then gleefully told me about how a “Horny Elephant” had come into the camp a few nights ago resulting on all the Danish girls being held in the concrete show blocks. God Damn. A Horny Elephant – I know how he must have felt.
After this story I heard a squeal from one of the girls in the Kitchen, apparently a mouse had got in to the kitchen tent (a very common occurrence to be fair).

Now this was the sort of animal I could handle…

so I got up to rescue the damsel in distress, my hand hovered over the corkscrew but then I thought that would be a little over the top and barbaric. The next five minutes was filled with the clatter of frying pans falling and me frantically chasing this mouse around the kitchen with a broom. Then totally by accident I stepped on it. Squashed stone dead. I’m not sure if it was because I was wearing my CAT boots (get it?!) but I’m a natural at this. If being a pilot does not work out, I’ll become a rat catcher.
Slightly harsh I though to myself, upon inspecting the mouse and it’s now protruding guts, but that is African Nature for you, every thing wants to eat you or maim you in some horrendous way Mice included. Well every thing apart from the Guniea Fowl, they are not dangerous, just dangerously stupid. A relation to pheasant they tend to hang around in groups and delight in getting run over or eaten – sometimes both.
Rarely has a species been so low down the food chain. On our way to the camp there was a bunch of these things running from our car but just running down the road in front of us as if to say “ Hey! run me over I’m fucking stupid! In fact I’ll make it easy for you”. Idiots.

Eventually after several hours of chatting, scanning the bushes in my heightened state of paranoia and checking out the stars – Of which there are fucking millions – I turned in and slowly drifted of to sleep dreaming of the beasties that were lurking outside 2 cm of canvass. Most likely licking their chops. Perhaps they would eat the Danish girls instead.

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