The Proper Way to Safari

I include many anecdotes and stories in this blog about my first safari in 1979.  That is because aside from being a literally life-changing experience (see my April 4 post on That Old Devil Southern Cross), it also served to turn me from an Innocent Abroad into a Seasoned Traveler (see my April 16 post on My Tee Shirt Memory Quilt Security Blanket) after British Airways bumped me off my flight and misplaced my suitcases for a month. I also came away with lifelong friends, one of which calls me to this day every single year on Christmas morning. This year we should probably Face Time or Skype, Michael! And being in Africa again has brought back so many little memorable details I had completely forgotten about until now. It has served as an amazing touchstone and given me tangible comfort during my Great Wildebeest Migration.

But although I may have lost track of some of the details, I will never forget the little band of people who were on that safari with me. For the first few years after the trip we had several reunions in Lake Tahoe and San Francisco (most of the travelers were from California) and in New York. There were only four of us from the east coast, including a couple who lived on the Main Line of Philadelphia. I will call them Thurston Howell the Third and Lovey to protect their privacy ... and also because that is what I called them. To their face. They thought it was funny. He was a Professor at Penn and wore the same glasses as Mr. Magoo and hat as Thurston. She was a delight just like Lovey. They had the east coast contingent to their pre-Revolutionary War stone house for a reunion dinner one night. I will never forget it. In true preppy style, Lovey served Stouffer's spinach souffle right out of the box as a side dish. Didn't even take it out of the tin and pretend she made it. True prep!

As I am getting ready to head back out on safari next month I am once again reminded of Thurston and Lovey. A little detail I recall is that for the entire month-long safari they had the staff cart around several cases of the finest French wine with them to drink at dinner in camp! The wine had its own trailer that was pulled across Africa as part of our entourage on the back of one of the land rovers. They shipped it over with them from New York. That is planning, my friend!

I thought the set-up and the service were pretty classy already on safari. Real linens, china and crystal. Candles. We were camping but it was deluxe camping, the original "glamping." What did I know? It was not at all like my only other prior camping experience of pup tents and sleeping bags on the banks of the Ichnetucknee in central Florida! The rest of us did have wine and beer to drink on safari with dinner but Chateau Margaux like the Howell's? No we di'int! Very Out of Africa indeed.

Since we are driving to the game parks in our own car next month, we will have the luxury of bringing our own cases of wine for dinner and our choice liquor for our nightly sundowners. We will not be bringing vintage French wine however. Those cases are snug as a bug in my sister's wine cellar in Denver. Bad planning! We will bring our favorite South African wines from home however and we will be perfectly happy. Thanks for the memory, Thurston and Lovey!