On our way to the airstrip we saw a flock of vultures arguing with jackals over a zebra kill, which pretty much defines how filled with wonder this trip has been.
Five minutes later we found a pride of lions sitting fat and replete under a tree, too full to do more than raise an eyelid at our arrival. Then a bit further on we rescued some people from their bogged truck and took them to the airstrip.
The airstrip is a cleared area that is only slightly less muddy than the surrounding plains. There are a couple of half-built buildings and, well there is no ‘and’, that’s it. We got to take full notice of all the details as our plane was quite late.
We farewelled Harry who has been our unflappable, incredibly knowledgeable, guide for the last 10 days. It’s going to be strange not spending our days bouncing about in a truck with him pointing things out to us.
But then we were in the air in another Cessna Caravan. The flight to Kilimanjaro, where we transit, was bumpy: We blamed Declan who was in the co-pilot’s seat for the flight. Then a long wait in Kilimanjaro airport and we were out of African heading for Qatar.