One of the specialities of Tafika is the availability of early morning flights by micro light aircraft – a particular enthusiasm of John Coppinger. Although the majority of guests at Tafika do take this option, only the intrepid ‘Tracker Lloyd’ out of our own group could be persuaded to take to the air on this occasion, although with spectacular results ().

A real highlight this, not at all at odds with the bush experience (the aircraft more resembling some huge prehistoric bird, rather than a high-tech artefact ().

Once on our way, again just by ourselves (plus Judith), we drove by road through several native villages to reach our river crossing point back into the main area of the Park. Two ellies encountered en route took particular exception to our presence, and mock charged us. For the first time in our experience the scout actually chambered a round in his rifle, but fortunately there was no need to take the matter further (although the story doesn’t end here).

The river crossing () was made by kayak, close to the point at which David Livingstone made his own crossing in the middle of the nineteenth century. It is unlikely that the landscape has altered markedly in the interim. Just after crossing, we saw the irate ellies on the bank that we’d just left, although we had imagined them left well behind (and later on, now on foot, we saw them again on the same side of the river as ourselves, although by now they appeared to have forgotten their quarrel with us).

The final part of our journey was thus on foot into Chikoko Tree Camp, passing more giraffe along the way, and observing how a strangler fig tree had taken over another tree (). Our obligatory tea stop along the way was enlivened by seeing how the tea bearer was able to make a fire using a pointed stick, rotated swiftly in a hole in a piece of wood situated amongst kindling () (although none of the safari group proved able to replicate his feat).

Chikoko proved to be the bushiest bush camp yet – no hostess, but still a solar-powered fridge situated in a capacious and well-stocked bar, so it at least had the important home comforts, including hammocks. The actual sleeping quarters were an open platform raised on stilts, with the bathroom facilities underneath (). No hot water except first thing in the morning, supplied in a jug – very Edwardian.

After a delicious lunch of spare ribs we relaxed until early afternoon (), until it was time for the game walk (no opportunity for a game drive here, since there was no vehicle access at all, everything having to be brought in by hand – including the huge fridge).

It was interesting to walk in a different habitat to that encountered previously, although game sightings were on the slim side (but who were we to complain after the previous day?), with only a hyena and a large giraffe () of particular note, although the guide did note a ‘smell of death in the air’ close to camp. However a wide sweep around the area failed to locate any cause.

One of the group (who shall remain nameless) decided not to risk the open and somewhat crude staircase down to the bathroom during the night, and simply took advantage of the open nature of the top platform. He (hey! - it could have been a she) then couldn't get to sleep for wondering if some predator (needing only a moderate climbing ability) might, as a result, be attracted to the site, a fear shortly compounded by a crashing noise just by his hut.

Not wanting to risk using his torch, he made excellent use of a Russian army surplus night sight that he had with him, to discover that it was merely a hippo, and sleep soon ensued.

On a walking safari you will occasionally come across a still-steaming heap of elephant droppings in your path (). Somebody is bound to wonder just how long ago they were deposited.

The Old Guide’s trick is to stick a finger deep into one such heap, pull it out and lick it appreciatively, murmuring something like “Ah yes, about 40 minutes ago”. The look of horror (mixed with a certain amount of respect) on your companions’ faces is wonderful to behold.

Needless to say, the finger that you lick isn’t actually the finger that you stuck in, although they won’t notice this. The downside to this prank is that you’re still left with a finger covered in elephant poo, but it’s worth it for the extent to which you gross out your audience.

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