The day finally came when despite job offers and feeling more at home than we had in a long time, it was time to leave Khotso and set off once again in the unknown.

We were heading for the South African boarder with Swaziland with just an overnight stop in St Lucia to break up the journey.

St Lucia was a lovely little chilled out town complete with hippos and crocodiles. We were rather amused when late that evening and after numerous bottles of beer the owner of Bloo's backpackers announced that we were going hippo hunting. Apparently the aim of the game was to slap a hippo on the bum with a hand full of white paint… sadly no white paint was available so we thought we would just check out the prospective targets instead.

As we wandered through the dark town (beer still in hand) a car pulled over to warn us that there was a hippo up ahead in the park. ‘Yes that’s what we are looking for’ said Sean. ‘Oh right,’ said the car driver. ‘Let me light it for you,’ and with that he turned his car and caught the hippo square in his headlights. And blimey was it big. I’ve seen hippos before, but never so close and I swear never so big. Knowing hippo’s reputation for anger it was a little daunting being that close and thank goodness there was no white paint!

Next on the list was chameleon hunting. Scotty and I wandered off into the trees armed with a head torch borrowed from a German and solemnly shone it at leaves and branches that might be masquerading as a Chameleon when suddenly a leaf shone white. Ah ha, that was no leaf, that was a very very small Chameleon. The other’s scoffed, it really was that tiny but at least we had achieved our mission.

The next morning we resisted the temptation to get settled in and set off once again. We made only one stop at my request to see a Zulu Sangoma or witch doctor. This sangoma was frequently visited by the ancestors and could summon predictions for 30 rand a pop. ‘Can you tell us about our trip please?’ bang bang went the stick, smokey smokey went the burning herbs and the Sangoma began to mutter. ‘You will be fine’ intoned our translator, ‘you will get to your destination fine, you will achieve what you want when you get there.’ ‘You will be fine, you just need to pray before you leave.’ Then the sangoma looked up and our translator asked would you like to know anything else?

So there we have it guys, there really is no need to worry, we are going to be fine! J

Swaziland is…well flat and very like the countryside. It’s not very big and we managed to spend 3 hours at the boarder sorting out our VAT claims and still make it to Mbabane (the capital) for the evening. Nothing exciting to report till the next day we sorted our Mozambique visas and headed to Hlane Royal National Park. This was the only place I had absolutely insisted on visiting in Swaziland namely because I had heard there was a good chance of seeing Rhino. This desire I announced loudly to the shop assistant as we were booking our safari walk for the next morning and she just smiled. While Rob was organising a route for out safari drive I wandered out onto the terrace to look at the hippos in the watering hole. There was something moving in the bushes…it was…a rhino! And another one, and another one. ‘Rob…Rob, ROB! There’s a rhino!’ Out rushed Rob and we watched in awe as 5 rhino presented themselves for inspection. Camera in hand I kept parallel with them and followed till they were swallowed by deep bush. Wandering back to Rob with a smile on my face I gasped as 2 more Rhino were busy drinking behind Rob’s back and he hadn’t even noticed them! Let us just say that we never went on that game drive and now have 84 photos of Rhinos (Rob found the speed capture button).

The next morning dawned and after gulping down a scalding hot coffee we followed our guide (armed only with a stick) out into the wilderness. The first hour passed peacefully, we saw Giant African Land Snails (which my mother encouraged me to have as a pet when younger instead of a hamster), turtles, birds and lots and lots of poo. Then all of a sudden the guide stopped dead…he could smell something. Slowly like a sneaky snake we snuck round a bush and peered through the undergrowth. There, feet away from us were a mother and calf Rhino. The guide urged us further and further forward and like true hunters we were silent and stealthy. Imagine my surprise when the guide suddenly stood up and demanded of us in a loud voice what the difference between a white and a black rhino was. Did he not realise there were a couple of the animals right behind him! Apparently Rhino’s can’t see very well so they couldn’t see us, we were down wind so they couldn’t smell us and yes, they could hear us but they didn’t know where or what we were. But then…naturally…the wind changed direction and in a rather quieter voice the guide informed us that they could now smell us. It was time to go.

We slipped out through the bush and straight into an elephant 10 feet away from us. A sound rather like a raspberry being blown by the elephant and the announcement that Ellie was angry had us virtually running for safety. Giggling away we greeted an ostrich and were back in the safety of the camp.

Rob and I are now in Mozambique where sadly a cyclone and rain have rather scuppered our plans to do a scuba diving course. We remain however eternally optimistic that it will burn off.

In the mean time Rob and I went to visit a church in Homoine that is sponsored by Rob’s Mum’s church in Notting Hill. We found the church (a large reed hut type place) thanks only to the singing that was pouring out from the door. After parking our car we were quickly ushered right in among the congregation and offered bunches of palm leaves and crosses (it was palm Sunday after all) which we shook with great enthusiasm during all the hymns. Now I am not a religious person and agree rather with Eddie Izzard that Church of England followers are the only people on earth who manage to make Halleluiah sound distinctly unhappy. This congregation was completely different. There was no organ or piano, only a castanet and some superb voices. The choir seemed to burst into song at random moments. For instance I was invited up to the pulpit to introduce ourselves and had only managed to say ‘hola’ when the choir started singing. What can you do but clap along?

When the notices and a general village meeting began we excused ourselves and amused all the kids by…well just being there really. I suppose we are rather comical.

Sorry about the length of this one but at least you can all feel like you too are driving through Africa lol.

Keep happy and ‘fine’

Georgie