I Thought I Saw a Puddycat!
The Craggs (April 21-23)
I came to the Craggs (accommodated at the awesome ice creamery hostel Rocky Road Backpackers) for one reason and one reason only - to see some puddycats at the Tenikwa Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre. This centre is the home of a significant number of wildcats including cheetahs, caracals, servals and a lone leopard. Visitors have the opportunity to merely tour the facilities, take the cheetahs out along the grounds for a walk (on leashes!) or enter various enclosures in order to have a one-to-one personal photo shoot with the pussycat dolls. Guess which option I chose! Going for the opportunity to shoot, without bullets, these magnificent animals up close and paying 450 rand for the privilege was a no-brainer!
Unfortunately, on the morning in which my photographic session was scheduled, the weather was not being cooperative AT ALL. It was practically pouring down with rain as we pulled into the parking lot and my sad eyes spoke pitiful volumes. But just as all hope seemed lost, I was offered the chance to return in a couple of hours with the hope that the weather would improve in the meantime. Seriously?!? Bless your heart and hot diggedy dog cat! I was incredibly fortunate for no one else had booked for that day so I returned to the Rocky Road Backpackers Hostel,waiting and praying for the dark clouds to lift slightly. And they did! So I then raced back to Tenikwa at about 10 AM and met my guide for the kitty encounters, Jacob, who turned out to be an enthusiastic, responsible and supportive guide. He did his absolute utmost to ensure that I got numerous opportunities to advantageously shoot the cats and shared in my kickass joy whenever I managed to get a killer shot.
However, I feel compelled to mention that there was one major hiccup in my kitty encounters. In the very first enclosure I entered, that being the caracals, one of the caracals came up to me and started sniffing at my trousers as if he/she could smell the dogs I had been loving up back at my hostel earlier that morning. Jacob tried to get the caracal to back off by spraying it with a water bottle, but this only managed to piss off the pussy. It started hissing and snarling at Jacob who, meanwhile, was quietly but fervently urging me to "Stand still! Don't move!" As if I had any intention whatsobloodyever of disobeying! I strongly got the impression that this situation could potentially turn bloody, leaving yours truly tattered, torn and in tears. Gulp. My heart rate must have quadrupled in the measly seconds it took for Jacob to whip out his walkie talkie and request assistance in the caracal enclosure STAT! Within minutes which seemed more like hours, 3 animal trainers arrived and managed to distract the caracal who had been sniffing me as if I were the main course on today's menu and I slipped away to safety. Whew! If ever I needed a reminder that these cats were in no way, shape or form domesticated...THIS...WAS...IT.
The rest of the shoot proceeded without further potentially deadly drama and I was allowed to interact with the cats for more than two hours. I left Tenikwa purring contentedly as if I had just finished lapping up a bowl of warm full cream milk without feeling bloated or flatulent due to my lactose intolerance -TMI? Sorry!
About 1.5km down a muddy dirt road from Tenikwa lie two additional animal attractions, Monkeyland and Birds of Eden. One can visit simply one of them or buy a combination ticket for 216 rand. I decided to get my grand fill of the animal kingdom that day and bought myself a combo ticket, but in hindsight wish I hadn't bothered with the birds. Those who have been following my blog since the beginning may remember me visiting the Bellevista Lodge in the cloud forests of Ecuador where I did some, ho hum, bird watching. Back then I didn't find bird watching with binoculars particularly riveting and nothing has changed in the interim. I simply (STILL) ain't no bird watcher, y'all! But oh my my and hot damn do I love me some simians! Monkeyland was aMAzing! 15 species are let loose in this 12-hectare primate sanctuary and free to roam the wooded area to their hearts' content. While there, I got within a few feet of capuchin and squirrel monkeys, lemurs, and even a gibbon. It would be difficult to say which was my favorite but, if push came to shove, I would have to say that Madagascan lemurs top the cutie patootie scale! So much so that I couldn't help but softly sing "I like to move it, move it!" as I toured the facility. Much to our guide's amusement I might add (and just did).
Storms River Village (April 23-26)
I have a somewhat humiliating confession to make. I had originally planned to go bungy jumping(216m) off the Bloukrans Bridge while in Storms River Village but, upon finding out that it was NOT in fact the world's highest bungy jump, I wimped out. In my defense, it is not as if I have never been bungy jumping before and my video from the Last Resort in Nepal showing me jumping off a bridge (160m) is proof of that fact. But I find that my fear of heights has significantly grown in the past few years, so much so that merely contemplating a jump from such a height leaves me feeling dizzy and dangerously close to passing out! But I WOULD have jumped, oh yes indeed, IF it had actually been the highest jump. But the fact remains that the world's highest jump lies elsewhere, in Hong Kong to be precise, where adrenalin junkies can plunge a whopping 233m off the AJ Hackett Macau Tower. I hereby swear that I will join the list of those crazy enough to make that jump if ever I should find myself visiting this particular part of China. You have my word.
My few days in Storms River were full of drama unfortunately. On the first day, I went for what should have been a simple, uneventful and not particularly challenging walk through the Tsitsikamma Forest. Mind you, this WAS Africa, so I should have been prepared for any and all eventualities, right? I was walking by myself, as per usual, and trudging full steam ahead along the muddy forest path when all of a sudden I heard loud animal noises coming from somewhere closeby. At first I figured it was someone out with their dog but as the sounds grew louder and closer, I realized, much to my chagrin, that THAT was NO DOG! I stopped dead in my tracks, my mind racing, heart pounding and eyes feverishly looking around in search of a suitable weapon with which to defend my suddenly oh-so-miniscule life & limbs. I picked up a long stick as well as a big rock and then began advancing slowly upon the path, keeping my eyes peeled for movement around me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something much too large for my comfort descending from the trees about 10 feet away from where I stood, but I wasn't sure whether it was a large monkey or baboon. Either way, I did not want to get more closely acquainted with the creature so I hightailed it out of there, all the while hefting my weapons. Mind you, I probably was in little to no real danger of being attacked but if it HAD been a baboon, these creatures are known to sometimes act aggressively, especially if there is food involved and I just so happened to have some potato chips and a bar of chocolate in my day pack so....you never know. The main thought that flew through my brain once I had made it back safely to the parking lot was, "WOW, this really IS Africa!" I mean, where else in the world can you go hiking and encounter monkeys?! Okay smart asses, I realize that many countries in South America as well as India, Sri Lanka, Thailand, etc etc etc also have monkeys but it was a first for me so my statement stands. So there.
The next day was marred by yet another unfortunate incident. I had hitched a ride with a Finnish couple staying at the same hostel as me (Tsitsikamma Backpackers) to the Storms River Mouth Rest Camp where there is a beautiful coastal day hike to a waterfall. I set off on this hike by myself and without a cell phone even though, time and time again, people have warned me that I am tempting fate by hiking solo without the means of contacting someone if I should get lost or, heaven forbid, injured. When will I ever learn? The trail was extremely tricky in places for one had to climb over a lot of slippery rocks. And after having witnessed my dear friend, Rebecca D'Arcy, slip on a rock right in front of me and shatter her wrist while hiking near Loch Lomand in Scotland a few years ago, I was feeling rather nervous about traversing such rocks. The problem was that I was so intent on watching where/how I placed my feet that I failed to watch my knees. Result? I smashed my left knee smack dab into a sharp rock! For a split second after the impact, I actually felt nothing, perhaps due to the shock, but seconds later the excruciating pain hit me with full force like a semi-articulated lorry striking a deer head on. Whoah! This was definitely one of the most painful moments in my life and you had better believe it when I say I cried crocodile tears for a number of minutes afterwards. Once my crying was under control, I lifted my trouser leg in order to get a gander at the extent of my injury. Although it was bleeding a little, I quickly ascertained that nothing was broken, thank God! As happy as this realization made me though, my heart plummeted at the prospect of dragging myself back to the trailhead. You see I had been hiking for 40 minutes when I had my accident which meant I had a considerable ways to go before reaching civilization. After dragging myself back along the path for about 45 minutes, I encountered my guardian angels, a South African couple, one of whom happened to have some medical training. She examined my leg and agreed with my assessment, i.e. no torn ligaments or broken bones. But there was definitely already some bruising as well as swelling. Her husband, Francois (my hero) volunteered to assist me back over the rest of the trail, lending me a hand when needed, climbing back over all the damn rocks. In all, it took me an hour and a half to get all the way back, at which point I ran into that same Finnish couple who agreed to give me a lift back to our hostel at 1 pm. That left me with 90 minutes to kill (the pain) so I decided to hobble pathetically over to a restaurant down the road seeing that I had eaten absolutely nothing all day and could use a wee sit down. Once there, I asked my waitress to bring me some ice which I duly placed upon my still-bleeding knee. I was also provided with a couple of strong pain killers from a sympathetic English couple sitting at the table next to mine.
The next day I sat around my hostel for the most part feeling slightly sorry for myself, popping pain killers every four hours or so. Yes, I was lucky not to have bitten by that baboon/monkey or seriously injured by that rock but can I still get a little sympathy? Yes? No? Please?
Alrighty...on to Port Elizabeth and the Addo National Elephant Park where I am going to look for some lions!
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