The Inspiration Behind the Blog

I was born to be a writer. When I published my first novel Wild Point Island, my orange and white rescued feral tabby Chuck decided he wanted to travel and see the island for himself. Chuck's desire to travel inspired me to begin the blog and take Chuck with me whenever I traveled, which I do frequently. This was not an easy task. First, I had to deflate the poor kid of all air, stuff him in my carry-on bag, remember to bring my portable pump, and when I arrive, I pump him back up. Ouch. He got used to it and always was ready to pull out his passport and go. Now it's Theo's turn. Smart. Curious. And, yes, another rascal.

Showing posts with label Mt. Kenya Safari Club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mt. Kenya Safari Club. Show all posts

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Chuck is Outsmarted by Bird at Mt. Kenya Safari Club



View of the lovely grounds of the Mt. Kenya Safari Club

When we first mentioned to friends that we were bound for a safari in Africa, our “friends” rolled their eyes, warned us to beware of kidnappings in Nairobi, and admonished us to expect a rough and tumble experience in this “third world country”. 

We knew as we traveled around Kenya in search of the "Big Five", that there would be limited electricity, accommodations in camps rather than 5 star hotels, and travel along pitted dirt roads rather than the paved roads we were used to here in the states. 

Our friends were not misinformed. 

Sometimes at night we needed to use flashlights to signal that we needed the professional to lead us to the main area from our tent because to walk alone was too dangerous.  

The rivers were filled with hippos.  The plains were filled with lions and hyenas. On the trails we often stumbled upon a water buffalo or a leopard hidden in a tree with a kill, who could jump down on top of you if he thought for a second you were interested in his dinner. 

Safari, in modern times, means you’re armed with a camera, not a gun.  In Kenya, hunting big game animals is forbidden by law.  Thank God.  

But being on safari is breathtaking! We heard the roar of a lion as the pack moved past our safari vehicle.  I stood less than twenty feet away at dusk as a family of giraffes munched on the leaves of a nearby tree. As we sat and ate our picnic lunch one afternoon, a monkey came from out of nowhere and stole my apple which was perched on the log beside me.

We were in the wild.

The single exception was the Mt. Kenya Safari Club, the 100 acre ranch, founded by actor William Holden in 1959 at the foot of Mt. Kenya.  Mr. Holden, known as the too good-looking actor, won an Academy award for Best Actor for his role in Stalag 17. He also starred in a slew of other films including Sunset Boulevard and Picnic and was the biggest box office draw of the 1950‘s in Hollywood. But besides being a Hollywood film star, he became a conservationist and animal activist long before it was trendy to do so.

The front entrance

The Safari Club became the destination for the Hollywood jet set.  In the very atypical lobby--here in Kenya, so much of the Safari Club is outdoors--there are photos lining the walls with all the "A" list actors who came to Kenya and stayed at the club.


Just a sampling of some of the photos of the rich and famous who came to the Safari Club

Today it is a popular resort for visitors who come to Kenya and who are interested in going on safari, horseback riding, or mountain climbing, but who also want some pampering along the way.  

That’s what appealed to us--the pampering.  The grounds are exquisite with a lovely view of Mt. Kenya, of course.  There is a in-ground swimming pool, gourmet restaurant, flat-screen TV, full-service bar--all the modern amenities that are at times difficult to procur in so exotic a location.

Lovely view of Mt. Kenya in the distance

The exquisite lobby of the Club

Our room was luxurious and over-sized. 

Our room on the premises

Upon arriving, we unpacked and went on a tour of the place, heading eventually toward the main part of the Club, looking for a short cut from our room, following the paths that led past the pool.  How fortunate.  I am a pool person from way back.  Chuck is not.  In fact, he hates water in large quantities.  He scurried past, very quickly, not anticipating that the area around the pool was very wet and slippery. 

But he was nowhere near the edge for that fact to have any impact.  It was only if he moved closer to the edge.  And why would he? What would entice a cat closer to the edge of a pool?

The infamous pool where Chuck scampered over the edge
It happened so quickly I had no time to react. A bird flew by, swooping down over Chuck’s head, literally enticing him to follow, to follow, right into the water.  The bird flew over the water, but Chuck’s eyes weren't on the water. He made a mad dash for the bird and went right over the edge.

I’d never seen anything like it!

Chuck's no light weight and half the pool water was displaced by his weight. He “doggie paddled” immediately to the side. I helped him out and he did his shake thing, but he was still dripping wet. 

We returned to the room and regrouped. 

My analysis: Chuck was no smarter than a typical Kenyan bird. The poor kid never liked birds anyway.

MY PARANORMAL ROMANCE, WILD POINT ISLAND, IS NOW AVAILABLE IN EBOOK AND PAPERBACK FROM AMAZON.COM AND BARNESANDNOBLE.COM.  



Sunday, January 22, 2012

Chuck Almost Swims with the Hippos





In the heart of Africa, on the Masai Mara Game Reserve, an extension of the great Serengeti Plain, which runs through Kenya and Tanzania, the most dangerous animal isn’t the lion or the leopard, the elephant or the buffalo . . . it is the giant hippo.

More tourists are injured by the hippo than any other animal.

On safari, if you decide you want to see a hippo in person, you are escorted not only by your regular guide, who carries at best a walkie-talkie for protection--the theory being that information is your best ally against danger--but you are also escorted by an armed soldier who carries a machine gun, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.

Although hippos spend almost all of their time submerged in the water to keep cool, in the nearest river or lake or mangrove swamp, they can get themselves on land and in your face faster than you can make your grand escape.

Despite the inherent danger, Chuckie, my fearless and rascal cat, decided he wanted to see hippos swimming in the river. This dream of his was born after we visited the animal orphanage at the Mt. Kenya Safari Club and Chuckie met a baby hippo and saw him smile.

So late one morning we trekked down the path from our safari vehicle toward the water with Steven our driver, James our guide, and, of course, Botswain, our trusty armed soldier who came along JUST IN CASE. Botswain was the one in the know. He knew where the hippos were most likely going to be. He knew how close we could get to the water’s edge without falling in or attracting the attention of said hippos. He was our “go to man,” and we were lucky to have him.

Because the hippo, for those of you who know nothing about this magnificent beast, is considered the most aggressive creature in the world and the most dangerous animal in Africa. The hipppo is the third largest land mammal, after the elephant and the rhinoceros, weighing one half to three tons, but it can easily out run a human and has been clocked at short distances running nineteen m.p.h. Even though it closely resembles the pig, its closest living relative is the whale. The name hippo, short for hippopotamus, comes from the ancient Greek meaning “river horse.”

Of course, Chuck knew none of these interesting facts. He just wanted to see a hippo in action. And, I have to admit, I was curious, too. And a bit on edge.

The path that led from the Serengeti Plains to the river’s edge was about a quarter of a mile. As we neared the river, I kept a look-out for lions and leopards. I didn’t know quite what to expect.

But there they were. Their roundish heads popped in and out of the water. Occasionally we were lucky enough to see their backs float on top, but usually the hippos were totally submerged, keeping cool, while we humans and CAT stood on the shore and stared and sweated.

Chuck peeked out of my backpack.

For once, he behaved himself.

Feeling brave myself, I inched closer to the water and grabbed onto a tree limb to support myself so I could get a closer look. I wanted to snap a few good pictures.

Curious, Chuck leaned out further than he probably should have.

Suddenly, my foot slipped, or perhaps, the ground underneath me wasn’t as solid as I thought.

I lost my balance and began sliding toward the water.

Now, let me explain.

I was standing on a ledge that tipped out over the river.

And I was being careful.

When I slipped, I didn’t go sliding into the water. No, I slipped and slid maybe a foot, but it felt like I was about to keep on going--me, the camera, and the CAT into the water, into the mouths of the MOSTLY herbivorous hippos.

At that moment I didn’t know if that meant they ate meat or not.

I screamed.

Chuckie ducked back into my backpack.

I spotted at least one hippo pop his head out and look AT ME.

Botswain came running.

I regained my equilibrium and didn’t slide in, but Botswain did not look happy. (I suspected he had never actually shot a hippo in his life.)

As we hiked back to the safari vehicle (yes, I was very embarassed), I whispered to my rascal cat, “I blame you for this. This was your idea. If it hadn’t been for you--”

Then I stopped and realized the kid was going to be the death of me yet and what was I thinking to have brought him along with me anyway on SAFARI and wasn’t I just setting myself up for more crazy adventures?

Well, wasn’t I?