Africa has been a teacher to me. Beyond the facts and figures I know about wildlife it has made me aware that life can be short, and should be lived to the fullest. I learnt this from the people I worked with, but also the people I took on safari.
Over the years all sorts of people have sat in my Land Rover. Accountants, lawyers, bankers, photographers, famous aviators, entrepreneurs, TV stars, mistletoe harvesters (apparently there is more money in that than you would imagine), Germans, Japanese, Americans, English and every nation in between. Those who appreciated their surrounds and made the fewest irrational demands were easier to get along with but rarely as memorable as the nutters who arrived a few times each year astonished that their walls were not concrete and their hair dryer wouldn’t work—but from my guests over the years I learnt the heartening fact that people do care about animals. It may not run as deep as the love felt for wildlife by me and my bush colleagues, but that may not be an entirely bad thing.
I no longer live in Africa, but visit regularly—sometimes to lead trips, sometimes just to see friends. People often ask if I plan on returning there to live again. My answer is always ambiguous. All my life I have been afraid of going backwards, instead preferring to steam ahead, not wanting to look behind, or dwell on the past.
But there is another thing Africa taught me. It’s okay to look behind you. How else will you find your way home?