After a short ride over bumpy terrain, we arrived at the lodge. My drowsiness dissolved as I held on for dear life to the Land Cruiser’s side.
We were met with a bubbly drink and a hot towel by two staffers. They escorted us into the lodge’s lobby and encouraged us to sit or mill around in the area while the staff checked us in.
Each party kept to themselves while Leticia, the lodge’s manager, greeted each group. She had us sign the guest book, took our passports, and asked for a credit card for incidentals. The couple that Charlotte thought was near divorce, Jack and Geri Wallace, handed everything over without having to be asked. The Vankeys talked with Leticia longer than the rest. The lodge’s manager assured Colin the passports would be returned quickly and that it was common practice.
Leticia spoke to Charlotte for a few more minutes while I marveled at the lodge. The reception area was a large A-framed building. The tall ceilings had tree limbs running across, for decoration or support, I didn’t know. The area around the fireplace had two cream-colored couches with patterned throw pillows in safari-neutral colors, and a few chairs with coordinating throw pillows. You felt like you were inside, but with no walls or windows you were actually outside.
Leticia returned our passports and credit cards and handed us each a key. Eager for a shower and good night’s sleep, I asked where room four was.
“Dinner is first, please,” Leticia announced. Another staff member ushered us to a long candlelit table.
The staffer who had met us at the airport returned and greeted our table. “Habari za jioni!” Many tried to repeat it and all failed. “Or we can all just say ‘Good evening, Sonny!’”
Everyone repeated “Good evening, Sonny” with varying volumes and energy levels.
He smiled a huge grin. It was impossible not to smile back. I looked around the group. I was wrong. The professor found it possible. His face was neutral.
“Yes, I know,” Sonny continued. “It’s been a long day. And we have an early morning ahead of us. But first we eat!”
Begrudgingly, I sat down at the seat closest to where I was standing. All I wanted to do was lie down.
“Why’d you sit here?” Charlotte mumbled, as she sat down next to me.
“It was the closest.”
“Now we’re going to get stuck talking to the old folks.”
I ignored her. I wasn’t going to be talking to anyone. I’d be lucky if I kept my eyes open for the meal. The adrenaline rush of the ride was gone.
As the waiter placed a small bowl of soup in front of me, I tried to remember the last time I had a good meal. The aromas awakened me, and my hunger, and I dug in.
As Charlotte had predicted, the Vankeys sat across from us. Charlotte kicked me under the table as the wife, Hazel, introduced herself and her husband, Colin.
In an act of revenge, I told them Charlotte was studying to be a doctor. There’s nothing an old person loves to do more than complain about their ailments. And to do so with an educated young woman for free. If I had my way, she’d be sitting next to them during game drives too.
The pumpkin soup, topped with roasted pumpkin seeds, was marvelous and was followed by a piece of grilled white fish with a light dill sauce, sitting on a small mound of zucchini, carrots, and potatoes. Our last course was a slice of chocolate cake with a dollop of fresh whipped cream and berries.
My fatigue returned as I took my last bite, and I hoped they’d be taking us to our rooms soon. I looked around the table. The conversation had died down as the meal progressed and as the effects of the long day set in. Other travelers were finishing their desserts.
The trio was sitting at the other end of the table. I had caught Zonah, the twentysomething, sneaking glances at Charlotte during each of the courses. Charlotte never noticed, too busy talking about herself to the Vankeys.
The staffers cleared the table and Sonny returned. He gave a brief talk about the next day’s itinerary, and some points about the lodge, before we followed him down the wooden trail to our accommodations. All I heard was ‘Five a.m. wake-up call.’ Another male staffer, tall, thin, with a flashlight in hand, trailed behind us. The old couple, Colin and Hazel Vankey, were in the first room. Sonny walked them down the short path to their “suite,” as he called it, while the rest of us stayed on the main path.
The trio, Sabrina, Zonah, and Zaden, were in the next suite and we again waited while Sonny escorted them to their lodgings. The middle-aged couple, Jack and Geri Wallace, had the third. Charlotte and I were next, in room four. The professor, Dr. Higgins, had the fifth, and last, cabin. He stood with the tall staffer at the end of the path, waiting for Sonny’s return, with his usual look—annoyance. We said our goodbyes and Sonny waited until our door was closed.
I stood at the door, shocked by the size of the room. From the outside, in the dark, the enormity of the space had been hidden. It was more than a room or a suite. “I think this is bigger than my apartment,” I said.
“It is bigger than that dreadful studio,” Charlotte answered.
At least she was polite enough not to say it was also nicer than my home. Which it undeniably was. I sighed, wondering if I’d ever have a home this nice. I didn’t have a designer’s eye to put together a space that was stylish yet comfortable. The dark wood of the bookshelves and sitting area furniture was softened by the cream-colored couch cushions. The olive green patterned pillows gave the space a little color, while remaining safari-chic.
I explored the room while Charlotte prepared for bed. The far wall was all windows, overlooking the lush landscape. The moonlit night illuminated the landscape. I gasped when I saw our outdoor space—a small patio, two lounges, and even a small pool! I looked forward to enjoying it tomorrow.
The right wall held a minibar—a well-stocked one. I’d enjoy that tomorrow as well. Our luggage sat next to the closet; the staff had delivered it while we ate dinner, and I unpacked. I organized an outfit for the next day. I made sure my outfit matched. At five in the morning, everything matched to me, but my sister had a more discerning eye.
I sat on the couch in the sitting area. I closed my eyes and let it all sink in. Months of pinching pennies had finally gotten me on a safari. A dream I had since I was eight and had completed a school project on giraffes. I had jumped on the deal when it had popped up a couple weeks ago.
My first glimpse of the Big Five was only hours away. Which would be the first we’d see? A lion, a leopard, a rhinoceros, an elephant, or a Cape buffalo? I didn’t care which I saw first, just as long as we saw all five during our game drives. And a giraffe, of course.
I started to doze but was awakened by Charlotte.
“Night, Naomi,” she said. She pulled the white mosquito netting aside and crawled into the dark wood four-poster bed. She fixed the netting, ensuring no open areas, and flipped the light over her side of the bed off.
With the bathroom now free, I got up to take a long overdue shower. The dirt and grime of three airports and over twenty hours of travel needed to be scrubbed away before bed. Charlotte’s cosmetics case was on the counter. I was too lazy to go get mine out of my luggage and I peered in to see what fancy items she had stolen from our mother to use. I uncapped the shower gel and took in the glorious scent of lavender and rose.
I hopped in the shower and luxuriated in the fine body wash. The many jets sprayed warm water against my aching muscles and within minutes I was refreshed. Using the lodge’s shampoo and conditioner, I washed my hair. The water was still warm but I knew I’d have to get out of the shower at some point. Using the impossibly soft white towel, I dried myself and towel-dried my hair. I wished I had such luxurious towels like this at home.
My night routine was far shorter that Charlotte’s and, wrapped in their large, extra soft cream-colored robe, I was out of the bathroom five minutes later and ready for bed.
Except I was now wide awake.
Charlotte was already asleep. I looked at my side of the bed longingly but knew sleep wasn’t anywhere near. I’d need a little help. I threw on some clean jeans and a T-shirt, and quietly left the room.
The full moon lit the trail. The lighting of the large common area, which included my destination—the bar—also lit my way.
“Where did you come from!” someone shouted as I approached the bar.
“Room four,” I answered. Did he think I was trespassing? It was a small, secluded lodge. Where did he think I was coming from?
“No, no, no! Miss, you have to call if you want to leave the room.”
“What?” I asked.
“At night. You must call us. Call reception and we will come get you. You cannot walk around here at night by yourself.”
I’d walked in my own city at night. I’d think that was far more dangerous than out here, hundreds of miles from any city.
Sensing my confusion, he added, “The animals.”
“Animals?” My eyes bulged. “Yikes, don’t tell my sister that.”
“We did! We told all of you. Weren’t you listening during orientation?”
“Oh, must have missed that.” I bit my lip. “Sorry.”
He nodded and walked away. Mr. Wallace was watching, and smirking, at the bar.
“Rookie,” he said as I sat down at the far end of the bar. He laughed and tipped his glass in my direction. He took a sip and signaled for the bartender. “Can you get my friend here a drink?” He nodded.
“White wine, please,” I ordered. “Thank you, Mr. Wallace.”
“Jack.” He signaled for me to sit closer to him. The bartender placed the wineglass next to him and I moved down. “On me, of course,” he said.
“Um…thank you.”
“Afya,” he said, holding his glass toward mine.
I mumbled “Cheers” and took a long sip of the wine. I debated asking but learning now would be less embarrassing than learning at checkout. “This is included, right?”
“You are a rookie! Yes, everything’s included. Drinks are definitely included.” He finished his beer and signaled for another. “With no TV, limited internet, what else are we supposed to do?”
I breathed a long sigh of relief. Paying for drinks, or anything else here, wasn’t in my budget.
His next beer arrived and we again clinked glasses. “So, I’m guessing you are not a safari rookie,” I said.
“No I am not, been on a few.” He took a long sip of beer. He held his hand out and counted his past safaris. “Kenya and Uganda. Tanzania. I think Zimbabwe too. The wife loves these things.”
“I’m guessing you don’t.”
“What’s not to love? Traveling during the playoffs with little time or ability to check the scores. Just what a man wants to do on vacation.” He held up his drink again. “At least the booze’s included.”