For me, the occasion was a trip we made some years ago to southern Africa. Over the course of three months, we visited Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. And needless to say, there were many exhilarating episodes along the way.
Among the more memorable of these were the night an elephant ate the grass roof of our hut, (believe me, you haven’t lived until you’ve passed a sleepless night listening to the workings of an elephant’s digestive system); the frog in the shower incident, (which may not sound very dramatic, but when a frog unexpectedly pokes its head from under a shower curtain, you’d be surprised at how much it resembles a snake); and the occasion on which I mistook a jack-rabbit for a water-buffalo, (it’s a long story, but the jack-rabbit was quoted afterwards as saying he had never seen anyone move so fast).
But without question, the most unforgettable experience of the whole holiday was the day I went on a horseback safari in the African bush.
One of the stops on our grand African tour was at a bush-camp in Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe. Over an after-dinner beer on the evening of our arrival, I was offered the chance to go on a horseback safari the following day. It seemed like a great idea at the time, (okay, maybe it was more than one after-dinner beer), and I eagerly jumped at the opportunity.
There was only one problem: I had never ridden a horse in my life. According to the barman, however, this would not be a problem; the horses were well used to novice riders - or so he assured me.
My bar-room bravado was a distant memory by the time I was introduced to Cindy, my trusty steed, shortly after dawn the next morning. Horse and rider eyed each other warily, but I ignored the nervous lump in my throat and resolved that, from the outset, Cindy would know just who was in charge. Unfortunately for me, Cindy’s mind was already made up on that score.
"Mount up!" came the call, and all around me riders mounted their horses with an ease born of regular practice. Not to be outdone, I took advantage of a handy tree-stump and vaulted casually into the saddle - at which point I made the momentous discovery that, contrary to popular belief, saddles are not made of leather. Saddles are actually constructed of concrete, or possibly carved from granite. Either way, the effect is much the same.
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