TRAVERSE Issue 11 - April 2019 | Page 34

THIS IS AFRICA! Alex Jackson It was probably in late 2008 when I was helping at the Moholoholo Forest Camp Game Reserve near Hoedspruit South Africa that I had my closest shave yet with the wild- life of the African bush. A long-term friend of mine was the manager at the reserve, and he was off on his annual leave so I said I would stay at the lodge and help the resident guide as it was around Xmas and New Year and this was always a busy time in the camp. It certainly was busy with school groups and many overseas visitors looking to experience the great wildlife that was on the reserve. I think I had been there around a month and I won’t lie … I was loving it. I wasn’t even missing riding motorcy- cles! As a product of the late 1950’s I was raised by a big old black and white TV on a diet of such shows as; Tarzan, Daktari and Anglia TV’s Survival, so the camp really was a small piece of heaven for me. I had been to school during the early 1970’s through the Secondary Modern system so con- sider myself lucky to have got through it being able to write my name. Just the name “Secondary” made people feel defeated before they had begun however, now I was in an environment that I had longed for. Somewhere I didn’t have to worry about books and paperwork as everything I was being asked to do was totally practical knowledge based. I loved, and still do, taking people on game drives, bush walks and helping to interpret the tracks and signs of wildlife. Of course, it’s not all about wildlife and the bush. When you are dealing with people you can come up against first world problems too. Like the day a lady who was staying in one of the elevated reed cabins, managed to drop her grandmother’s gold wedding band down through the f loorboards into the small services room located under the cabin. I should point out these cabins are in the forest. So, with some reluctance I took my torch and climbed down the side of the cabin to the forest floor and started to shine a light under the decking towards where the service cupboard was located. “I really don’t fancy this,” I thought. Snakes, Scorpions and all sorts of biting, stingy things live under there. Anyhow, I popped my head under the front of the decking to start the slow crawl deeper under the cabin. WACK, WACK, WACK and WACK again. The pain on the back of my neck was like nothing I had felt before. “Bless my soul,” I screamed. I had been tagged by a Paper Wasp! This is a special breed of wasp whose mother and father are not married. I did retrieve the ring and TRAVERSE 34