It felt like fire in the sky. A July sunset in the middle of the Serengeti. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
It’s hard to put myself back in the mindset of Africa today. Such a crazy time warp to look back on some of these pictures and remember how life was then. It was such a tough trip. A month-long safari through the African bush was nothing like I’d imagined it would be. It was much, much harder. Up before the crack of dawn to make breakfast, put down the tent and get on the road. Drive for much of the day through really harsh roads in the middle of nowhere East Africa (Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania and Kenya). Find the campsite, pitch the tent, run to the showers in hopes of catching the last bits of warm water before it runs out, dinner, and then bed. By 7pm you are so knackered and cold that all you want to do is crawl into your sleeping bag for the rest of the night. And there is dust and dirt everywhere. White turns brown, fingernails never look clean and clothes never really wash properly. I remember washing my hair and seeing brown run down the drain. So gross.
But, oh, the beauty of the place. So raw and unspoilt. Descending the Ngorongoro crater at the crack of a misty dawn is the closest I’ve felt to God. Honestly. It was breathtaking.
I find it really hard to write about Africa. Even while I was there, no words came to me when I tried. It’s a hard place to describe and is probably one of those places that will remain a very deep and personal memory. And maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be. Sometimes words aren’t necessary.
