The guides had their canoes stuffed full of goodies so we parted willingly with bread and biscuits while comparing their skill at handling the long thin wobbly dug-outs with out erratic efforts.
Paddling against a determined current was bad enough but when the wind came howling towards us, funnelled in fury by the high narrow gorge and forming white caps on the water, I felt like giving up.
The khaki clad manager of a remote well hidden fishing lodge for seriously keen tiger fishermen, did nothing to ease my spirits as he shouted to us that he had never seen the river this windy before.
We were experiencing surfable waves but in the middle of absolutely nowhere, giving up was not an option. So ever onwards until my hands were sore, my shoulders stiff and my mood battered into submission.
Giant's Footprints
I opted to sleep in a tent that night, rather than a mosquito net hung from an up-planted paddle, and laid my exhausted bones on my little mattress after a good feed and too many swigs of red wine.
Overnight the wind contorted the tent into a lumpy pancake but I emerged well-rested into peachy sunshine and a light breeze and quickly forgot how bad I had felt the day before.
Not a meter away from the tent door were a giant's footprints. An elephant had paid a pre-dawn visit but its huge yet silent feet woke no-one.
Wandering Beasts
The better weather transformed the river scene into an idyllic Eden of wandering beasts slurping up the fresh water. Buffalo waded slowly through budding water hyacinth and waterbuck skipped about with their distinctive bulls eye mark on their rear. Elephants snorkelled completely submerged, crocodiles sunbathed and hippos creaked their deep door opening noises.
We drifted past weavers nests dangling centimetres from the water and flurries of stunning pink carmine bee eaters nesting in a thousand hidey holes in the bank. A floating log sported a pair of beady eyes and submerged quickly into the murky water from which we drank to no ill effect. Creepy crawlies were few and mosquitoes even less.
After 5 days of hippo dodging, my partner and I were a demon team able to manoeuvre in any direction on command and avoid any hazard. We had not fallen out once, unless pushed, and felt well adapted to river life.
Page: 1 In a complete panic I was paddling forwards while my companion in the back was trying to reverse. We zig-zagged on the spot going nowhere while a huge hippopotamus burst through the water towards us with mouth agape, baring mammoth teeth and puffy ...
Page: 3 Having forgotten the hardships of a few days before, we wanted to paddle on for ever, but isn't it always the way, when you want to abandon ship you cannot because of the raging current and hippo soup, and when you want to continue you can' ...
