I found myself in Livingstone, Zambia this week, in digs that fringe the Mighty Zambezi. Despite no longer being immune to the Anopheles Mosquito (in vintage Kate Turner, I lost my prophylactics along the way) I slept profoundly, aided by a diaphanous mozzie net and the softest linen.
I was roused by hunger. Not mine, but this Blue Balled chap’s.
He was agitating for the plate of fruit the munificent folks of David Livingstone Safari Lodge (http://www.thedavidlivingstone.com/) laid out for me. Praise Jeepers the rooms are not porous to wildlife. I can’t say I would’ve been as stoic as my Uncle’s wife, Bev, who regularly has to shoo baboons from their b&b in Glencairn, Simon’s Town. The bush here is dripping with them.