Was it my fear or bad breath she could smell?
Read time: 4 minutes.
Welcome to my weekly newsletter – Where I use real stories from my life to unpack lessons and insights I have learnt. I hope you enjoy the material and gain something impactful to apply to your life.
What’s in store:
- Literally face-to-face with a predator – What would you do?
- Out-running an elephant… not advised.
- 4 life lessons the bush has taught me.
- Quote: “The only man I envy is the man who has not yet been to Africa – for he has so much to look forward to.”
I suddenly woke up, a warm breeze tickled my face, and my ears picked up the sound of sniffing. Suddenly, my eyes shot open in horror as I felt the tent’s fabric pressing firmly against my face, and the sniffing grew louder and more aggressive as I began to feel nostrils pressing in on my face. A sense of impending doom overwhelmed me as I lay there motionless, waiting for the creature outside to make its move. Every fibre of my being was tense with anticipation, wondering when the inevitable attack would come.
Growing up in South Africa, my father recognized the importance of immersing me in the African bush. He understood that a young boy’s spirit comes alive when camping in the wild. And he was absolutely right! My brother and I were lucky enough to join him on several trips to Botswana and Zimbabwe. During those adventures, my passion for the bush, the majestic sunrises and sunsets, and the captivating wildlife took root. As I’ve grown older, my love for these natural wonders has only deepened and intensified, cementing my belief that the African bush is where my heart truly lies.
After what seemed like an eternity of driving, we finally arrived at the campsite in the heart of Moremi game reserve in Botswana. But as we entered the area, my heart sank at the sight of utter devastation – it looked as if an asteroid had just struck the place. Undeterred, we parked the car and my father marched off to the manager’s quarters to find out what on earth had happened. Meanwhile, my brother and I began to unload our gear, but an ominous feeling gnawed at us, and we quickly set up a makeshift camp before heading off to find the manager. As we rounded the last bend, a colossal bull elephant loomed in the middle of the road, blocking our path. Suddenly, a pungent odor filled the air, and I saw my brother’s face turn pale as he soiled himself. The elephant’s ears flapped, and his trunk trumpeted as he began to charge us. We were only 30 meters away, and my heart raced as I realized this could be the end. Without a second thought, we turned and sprinted as fast as we could towards the campsite, our hearts pounding in our chests. Thankfully the elephant only mock-charged.
Breathless and exhilarated, we stumbled back into camp, still laughing at the adrenaline-fuelled rush of the elephant encounter. As we caught our breath, my father returned with the manager, who explained the cause of the campsite’s destruction. Apparently, the region was in the grips of one of the worst droughts in history, and a herd of thirsty elephants had used their incredible sense of smell to locate the water in the camp’s brick ablution building. The animals had torn the building apart, ripping up toilets and pipes in a desperate attempt to quench their thirst. That’s why the campsite looked like a warzone, the manager explained. My father quickly assured him that we had our own water and could take care of our own ablutions in the bush, but the manager gave us a stern reminder that the campsite had no fences and we needed to be aware of the dangers lurking in the wild. With that, he left us to enjoy our adventure, and we settled in for a night under the stars, grateful for the wild and unpredictable beauty of Africa.
As the fiery sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a vibrant array of oranges and pinks, we gathered around the crackling fire, basking in the warmth and beauty of the African wilderness. But as bedtime approached, I ventured out behind the Land Rover to relieve myself, only to be met with a sound that sent chills down my spine—rustling in the nearby bush. Memories of the elephant charge flooded my mind, and I knew I had to be hyper-aware of my surroundings. My heart pounded, I grabbed my dad’s flashlight and shone it into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was lurking. And then, there it was – a pair of yellow glowing eyes staring back at me from only 20 meters away. It was a hyena. Frozen in terror, I could feel my body tense up as the predator sized me up. I sprinted back to the tent, my heart racing with fear and excitement.
As we settled into our tent for the night, we loaded the fire with as much wood as we could find, hoping that the flickering flames would serve as a warning to any unwelcome visitors. My dad took the middle spot, with my brother and I on either side. The crackling of the fire and the chirping of the crickets outside provided the only soundtrack to our uneasy slumber as we drifted off to sleep, never quite sure what lurked beyond the canvas walls of our tent.
The fire crackling eventually lulled me into a fitful sleep, but my senses remained alert even as my brother and father snored beside me. The tent was cramped and uncomfortable, forcing me to sleep on my side with my face pressed up against the thin canvas, straining to hear any sound that might indicate danger. Despite my best efforts, I eventually succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a restless slumber. But even in my dreams, my mind remained vigilant, alert to any potential threat lurking just beyond our tent’s flimsy fabric.
My heart was pounding as I lay frozen in fear, the stench of death filling my nostrils. Suddenly, the warmth of the animal’s breath covered my face, and I could feel its sniffing becoming more intense. I could sense the predator’s hunger and its desire for fresh prey. I imagined its sharp teeth tearing through the thin fabric of the tent, ready to pounce and attack at any moment. As the seconds ticked, I held my breath and prayed for it to disappear. Eventually, the footsteps receded, and I slowly inched toward my father, hoping to escape the beast’s notice. With trembling hands, I reached for the torch and shone it through the tent’s window, watching the hyena disappear into the night.
I was so relieved and decided it was worth every second to be the big spoon to the old man.
Four life lessons the bush has taught me:
- In the bush, I need to be prepared and adaptable if I want to survive. The same goes for life; being prepared and adaptable can help you to navigate challenges and obstacles, overcome setbacks, and ultimately achieve your goals. Having a plan and being prepared is important, but it is equally important to be flexible and willing to adjust your course when necessary.
- Camping in the bush has taught me that trust is earned, not given. To rely on others for my safety and well-being, I need to demonstrate my competence, reliability, and respect and evaluate others’ behavior to determine their trustworthiness. This lesson applies to all areas of my life because trust is the foundation of any relationship. Trust is built through consistent, reliable behavior over time.
- Patience, serenity, and gratitude: Life in the bush is slow-paced, and you may need to wait for hours to see wildlife or even start a fire. Camping has taught me to be patient, to slow down, and enjoy the present moment in my everyday life. As well as embrace the boring. To stop! Take in the beauty and serenity around me and appreciate my current situation, whatever I may be doing. Don’t be so quick to hurry your friend out the door or put your kid down to bed so you can relax, you may never see them again or your kid may never wake up. Be present, be there, and be thankful for the time you have had with them to this point.
- Bonding and teamwork: Camping in the bushveld is a great bonding experience for me and my family and friends. It has taught me the importance of teamwork and communication in a challenging and unfamiliar environment. Working together to set up camp, cook meals, and navigate through the bushveld create memories that last a lifetime. The same goes for life; communication is the bedrock of any fruitful relationship. It is a team effort that requires understanding and consideration from both parties to flourish.
– “The only man I envy is the man who has not yet been to Africa – for he has so much to look forward to.” – Richard Mullin
– “Why is it you can never hope to describe the emotion Africa creates? You are lifted. Out of whatever pit, unbound from whatever tie, released from whatever fear. You are lifted and you see it all from above.” – Francesca Marciano
Please note all previous newsletters are up on my site should you have missed one or if you want to pass them on to friends who may enjoy the stories and lessons.
In your day, be courageous, confident, and curious.
Your Friend
Trev.
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