The next day we spent the morning with a young woman researching elephants. For her thesis project, she was tracking a particular breeding herd to record their movements with the goal of determining how much land they used during the course of their year. They seemed quite comfortable with her so we could watch the mothers with their sons and daughters at close range. We never tire of watching elephants in their family groupings.

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Mpho

While at Mashatu we met a charming young Botswanean woman named Mpho (Em-foe) who brought us to an archeological site of the prehistoric inhabitants in the region. Though the site was interesting, this young lady charmed us.

A few years ago Mpho read in Gabarone's newspaper that Walt Disney was looking for a few "Tswanans" to work at their Animal Kingdom at Orlando. There they would act as guides to introduce visitors to Botswana. She was selected as one of five or six from more than 500 applicants. Shortly after receiving her U.S. visa, the tiny young woman found herself alone on a jumbo jet flying high above the Atlantic, leaving her beloved country for the first time.

Arriving in Orlando, she was assigned to room with a young lady from Japan. Can you imagine the cultural challenges for each of them? Mpho told us that the first 5-6 weeks were very difficult for her. She was not relating well to her roommate and she was very homesick. To overcome her sadness, she found great comfort in reading the wonderful, stories of about life in Botswana written by the Scottish author, Alexander McCall Smith.

(We too are great fans of McCall Smith. The first book in a series or five or six is "The Number One Ladies Detective Agency". If you read the first, you'll want to read the others.)

To conclude the story, Mpho became close friends with her Japanese roommate (She's subsequently met her roommate's family and is planning to attend her wedding later this year in Japan. Can you imagine that experience?) and developed an addiction to McDonalds and other American fast foods.

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Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania

A cacophony of voices fills the dark domestic air terminal, as eager travelers wait for their flights. We hear the clipped sounds of South Africans and the British, the more flat, unaccented tones of Americans and the soft voices of the locals speaking Kiswahili or their tribal languages. A few women wear veils reminding us of Zanzibar's Islamic heritage.

A look around reveals the icons of American travelers such as sandals, short pants, white tennis shoes, video cameras panning into every little corner, belly rings, fanny packs (and my laptop). Some wait for flights to nearby Zanzibar for beach holidays and scuba diving, but most are booked for Arusha, the gateway to Tanzania's safari camps.

Of course a few Africans wait quietly as well. An immaculately groomed customs official stalks around holding his walking stick smartly (he seems to have few other responsibilities), the airline baggage handlers go about their tasks loading our safari bags, cases of Kilimanjaro beer, several dozen eggs, plastic bottles containing brightly colored liquids, hand-woven carpets, an old foot-powered sewing machine and two bright orange mattresses.

Our safari bags passed the weight limitations and soon we'll be off to Arusha.

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Wednesday, Klein's Camp

It was difficult to say goodbye this morning. As we finished our final breakfast in the open-air dining room high above the savannah, we spotted two adult giraffes and a baby feed in the acacia trees below.

An elephant trumpeted in the nearby trees and a lion roared from the tall grass below. Our guide, Rama, came to say farewell - we had come to appreciate his gentle manner and his skills spotting game in the bush. In his immaculate chef's coat, Stephen, came to say goodbye along with our 'bush butler', Dennis, and our maid Beaulah. In just 48 hours we had come to know and become very fond of each of them. Nevertheless, our aircraft was on its way so we said farewell and drove 45 minutes to the airstrip where we would board a bush plane to take us to Tanzania's Kilimanjaro airport.

As we approached the airstrip, flanked by grassy plains surrounded by tall acacias, one of the largest giraffes we have ever seen walked to the edge of runway as if to say his farewell. It could not have been a more beautiful moment … unfortunately there was no time to take that special photo before our aircraft was ready for departure.

Let's back up to the beginning of our stay at Kleins…

Northern Tanzania.

After a long morning of flying on small aircraft to small airstrips in northern Tanzania such as Arusha and Lake Manyara, we flew past a picturesque game camp situated on a pretty green hill overlooking Tanzania's famed Serengeti reserve. That was to be our destination for the next two days.

A famed American big game hunter, Al Klein, developed Klein's Camp a number of years ago on a large private reserve just a mile or two from the boundary of the famed Serengeti National park and about 10-15 miles south of the border with Kenya's Masai Mara . Ten years ago the prestigious safari company, CC Africa, took over the reserve and dedicated this territory to hunters equipped only with cameras.

Thanks to late rains, green grass covered the plains and the hills. Our safari guide, Rama, met us at the airstrip and less than an hour later we found ourselves in lovely "rondaval" style cottages overlooking a beautiful river valley. We liked it from the moment we arrived.

A lilac-breasted roller     stops to pose

We would be neglectful if we didn't mention the fine service and superb cuisine. After unpacking, we walked to the central lodge area for a glass of South African wine and lunch. As we sat down at the table overlooking the valley, we noted the fine silver, china and crystal at our place settings. Before lunch the young chef, Stephen, came out to introduce himself and tell us about the menu. He also told us that he came from a Masai village that he could reach with a four-hour walk through the bush. (He also told us that he kept his new profession a secret when he returned home since Masai males would not, under any circumstances, prepare meals.)

During our first game drive that afternoon, we spotted 6 or 7 lions just at dusk. Our guides had keen eyes since just the tops of the lions' heads could be seen moving through the tall grasslands. At first the lions seemed to have no mission; rather, they had just awakened after a long day of sleep and had not yet gone to work that evening.

We followed them for about 45 minutes until they heard the sounds of zebra grazing nearby. Now they became serious. Just as the final light was fading away, they began to circle around to stalk the zebra. Unfortunately we could just catch a glimpse or two of the cats using our dimmed spotlight (we did not want to illuminate the lions to ruin their hunt; neither did we want to pick out the zebra with our light to aid the lions). So we sat in the darkness and listened in the night that suddenly had grown very quiet. We waited and waited, straining to hear any indication of the lion's success. Suddenly the night's stillness was broken by a deafening rumble of hundreds of hooves racing past us at high speed. Zebras 1, lions 0. But the long night was just beginning.

Early the next morning Rama and our Masai tracker brought us into the Serengeti. (That was kind of funny. Rama went into the ranger station to obtain the permit for the day. Even though we were the only people in sight, it took some time to fill in the necessary paperwork. Eventually he came out carrying the blue copy of the form. He gave that copy to the man at the gate who got up from his chair to lift the barrier to the park. Bush bureaucracy at its finest.)

After a short drive, Rama pointed out little specks in the distant hills. With our binoculars we could see that they were indeed zebras. As we looked closer, we saw for there we undreds of zebras. As we approached them we realized that the number of zebra was actually in the thousands, for this was that last part of the famed migration, the annual trek performed by hundreds of thousand zebras and wildebeests as they move from the Serengeti north to feed on the sweet green grass of Kenya's Masai Mara.

Soon we were in the very center of this massive group of animals. In addition to the shear numbers, the next most impressive memory was their sounds. The zebras honked loudly in mule-like hee-haw fashion while the wildebeests bellowed out a noisy "gnuuu-like" noise. With the thousands of animals seemingly braying at once, it was difficult to converse in our open Land Cruiser. Another great moment in the bush.

We'll go back to Klein's Camp one day.

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Hermanus, South Africa

Situated on the "Whale Coast" of South Africa, about 90 minutes southeast of Cape Town, the tidy community of Hermanus is perched on stunning cliffs overlooking Walker Bay near the southernmost point of Africa.

We spent a couple of evenings in a magnificent Hermanus hotel, The Marine, right on the edge of the Indian Ocean. The hotel takes pride in its restaurant, one of the best fish restaurants in South Africa. In fact it was so good we dined there twice on the exquisitely fresh oysters, Malay curried seafood and butter like grilled line fish that graced our plates, briefly.

Beginning about now (June), South Africans flock to Hermanus to view migrating humpback and southern right whales. Carefully watching the bay, we saw the spout of a couple.

Arriving after a long flight from the U.S., The Marine would be a wonderful place to relax for a day or two.

Though we're nearly in the middle of South Africa's winter, the days have been wonderfully warm and the cool nights keep any bugs away. High winds today tell us that a change of weather is coming.

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Franschoek, South Africa

When the French Huguenots arrived in South Africa, they were settled into a charming little valley to grow wine. They did so with great success. Today this charming place is dotted with vineyards, superb restaurants and marvelous hideaway resorts. We spent a couple of evenings at Le Quartier Francaise, one of our favorite little inns anywhere around the world.

Any South African gourmand will know Le Quartier for its renowned chef, Margo Janse. (The UK Restaurant magazine rates the restaurant as one of the 50 best in the world.) As we sat by the fire in our magnificent suite (one of the Four Quarters) and sipped on a lush South African wine, we felt connected here. This is one of the world's very special places.

Our 'houseman', Timbur, had prepared the fire for us. He was one of those tall, warm Africans with a huge smile that makes you feel good when he is around. In his gentle way, he suggested our daily itinerary, made all dining reservations for us, greeted us a breakfast time and made certain that our complimentary drinks and snack bar was stocked before we retired each evening. Never obtrusive, he anticipated our needs. We looked forward to our little chats together.

In 2005, the British style magazine, Tatler, rated it "The Best Small Hotel in the World". Who are we to quarrel?

(Le Quartier Francaise is recognized as a Virtuoso member hotel, which entitles you to even more special privileges during your visit.)

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