Posts Tagged With: photography

“Ordinary Objects” Exhibition of Art Works by Elizabeth Varley

Grapes Cheese and Pears On Linen - $350 - 75cm x 50cm

Grapes Cheese and Pears On Linen – $350 – 75cm x 50cm

Solo Exhibition of Art Works by Elizabeth Varley  

“Ordinary Objects”

“In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary”.  ~Aaron Rose

You are invited to the Exhibition Opening : Saturday 10th September 2016, at 2.00pm

The CTC Robertson, 58 Hoddle Street, Robertson NSW 2577  Viewing and sales: August and September 2016

 Hours:  Thursday to Friday 10am – 4pm,  Saturday – 10am -1pm

Visit my Page for all the images – pricing, dimensions and more information

Categories: Art, Cooking School, Food, Wine and Cooking, Italy, Mushrooms, Photography, Recipes, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Lucca – A Secret Gem

Another week has passed by in a bit of a haze. After spending 4 hours every morning in Italian lessons trying hard to look on the ball and somewhat engaged, I find that my head is spinning by 1.00pm. The lessons are conducted all in Italian – totally from wow to go. To add more pain the use of dictionaries is prohibited.  When you have a question, the teacher attempts to ease your dilemma by using a convoluted example in Italian and by the time he has finished his explanation, you have hopefully grasped the concept.

This week we had a new bunch of recruits from Holland and Germany and Australia plus the same 2 chaps from Japan (one of which is a right pain in the backside!) -10 in total.  Consequently, the group exercises are like deciphering Morse code with cotton wool stuck in your ears. It is all babble!

What really did my head in was our final exercise on Friday – a passage (about an A4 page) that we had to read, translate and then undertake some grammar exercises. The subject was about a scientist who became fascinated by snails and wanted to write a book about the life of snails. However, no matter how he tried to conceal himself in the bushes, the snails were up to his tricks and hid inside their shells. So he had a bright idea of disguising himself as a snail. He made a shell out of paper mache that he could fit himself into, a rubbery nose with rubbery horns that waggled about and silvery saliva that he painted onto the ground. This pastime quickly turned into an obsession, and eventually he was sleeping in his costume and asking his wife to make him worm fritters.  She in the end, told him he was a loon and he could stick his worm fritters and left!

Now – I am confident that in my next conversation with someone about snails and worm fritters I will be able to acquit myself well. Handy don’t you think?

On the plus side, I feel more confident in conversing with the locals in Italian (not about snails). Some are very patient and will give you time to express yourself. Others revert to English straight away.  At least no one is speaking German to me.  There are plenty of Germans and Dutch here but very few Asians.

Lucca is a really pleasant and friendly place. The city is flat and cars are not allowed in the walls unless you have parking permits and a place to park, which are very limited. Consequently, this is a great place for a bicycle and which there are hundreds. The streets are narrow and cobbled with the buildings rising up on either side for three or four stories containing 4 to 8 apartments where the residents live in close quarters with each other.  So hearing the domestic chatter (and arguments) from your “vicini” is not unusual. For example the family who live behind me have a toddler named – wait for it… Galileo! My goodness he has a big name to live up to.

IMG_1201Yesterday the weather was a lovely so I spent a couple of hours wandering the main shopping streets (lanes) and poking my head into a number of stores.  But the highlight was another lingering lunch in a quiet corner, watching the passing crowds go by. On perusing the menu, I was unable to make up my mind between the chicken liver pate or the Tuscan salami and figs – so my very congenial waiter suggested that I have a half portion of both. This I followed up with a light main of vitello tonnato.  One of my all-time favs – cold sliced veal with a mayonnaise made with tuna and capers.  This was accompanied by a lovely local white wine – Trebbiano which dates back to the Roman times. (This photo is for my brother Peter who is the most patient husband of a champions shopper – Mary)

The best sight of the week was when I was on my way home from class, I passed a couple of older ladies (70’s) – done up to the nines. Blonded hair (yes, I am a culprit of some chemical assistance in this department), large pouting red lips (possibly some filler, and Botox to boot) skin tight black pants and patent black boots, rather flashy jewellery and pushing a very smart baby pram with a hood. From the back they looked like a couple of glamourous (!?) grannies out with the new baby while mum is at work. As I drew closer, I looked into the pram  – my jaw hit the ground – there sitting in pride of place was not a baby but the biggest, white, furry cat I have ever seen. I have since discovered that this was a state of the art bespoke cat pram. Can you believe it!

Today I am indoors as it is raining and thundery. So I have been busy doing some catch up homework in readiness for class tomorrow. Please God, no more stories about invertebrates please?

ci vediamo

Categories: Food, Wine and Cooking, Italy, Language, Photography, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Italia Bellissima!

During language class this week we had to discuss an opinion survey that was recently conducted in Italy. One of the questions was; “what do foreigners rate as the most significant aspect of Italian life”? The majority of respondents said, ” il cucina” . I agree, as I am never disappointed with what Italy has to offer. As the scenery in the regions of Italy differs, so does the cuisine. Here in Lucca, I have enjoyed some interesting and tasty local specialties which I have not experienced elsewhere. I am looking forward to many more to come in the next few weeks.

Just to mention a few of the highlights: proscuitto with white figs (peeled), cuttlefish stewed with tomatoes and spinach, tartare of veal with a tuna mayonnaise with bottarga (a cured fish roe), fresh farfalle pasta with sauteed fresh tomatoes and fresh salmon and basil,  grilled and sliced rare fillet steak with parmesan cheese on rocket (sauced with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, grilled sea bass with buttered spinach and slices of crispy potato.

Not to forget the gelato. I have discovered a wonderful place where they create gelato magic and makes their own flavours –  not the run of the mill fare. Interesting and unusual so in the name of research I have three scoops of different flavours!

Apart form the cuisine, the other obsession that Italians have is news and politics! I am still trying to digest the Italian slant on “news”. It swings from the latest gruesome homicide, to the refugee crisis, and  a swathe of political stories in between. Maybe it does sound like just like home!

There is an abundance of news commentary programmes here. On every second channel there is some beardy bloke with too long hair, that needs both a wash and a brush, and wearing designer glasses sprouting his informed (and ill informed) opinions depending on which side of the socialist spectrum you sit. They think that Greece is a laughing stock of Europe but they do not realise that they are only one step away from the same fate. Hard work, punctuality, precision, good governance, innovation are not in the Italian vocab. Maybe that is why we love it here. The whole sense that life has gone on like this for centuries and if we don’t rock the boat, long may it continue.

The Italian way is in their DNA: old men sit in the shade, drink coffee and argue,  old ladies do the shopping and complain that the bread is stale and the tomatoes are soft, young girls wear tight pants and impossibly high shoes, handsome young men wear very tight pants and a self satisfied look, and tourists are the only people to eat before 8.00pm,

Ah – Bella Italia!

 

Categories: Food, Wine and Cooking, Italy, Mushrooms, Photography, Recipes, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Lucca,Tuscany – A Living Picture Postcard

 


Buon giorno,

Here I am in Lucca – having enjoyed 2 days of sunny warm weather– up 30 degrees. This is ideal weather for sitting in a shady spot and drinking an aperol spritz (or a glass of prosecco) and watching the passing parade. After a few rainy and cool days in London this feels like coming home. Italy has that instant appeal of warmth, friendliness and accessibility.

On arrival at Pisa airport, I was met by Francesco my taxi driver to Lucca. He did not speak any English so my rusty Italian got a rude awakening. I think that I acquitted myself well as he did not drive off the road in fits of laughter at my linguistic abilities.

We arrived in Lucca, unloaded my cases at the front door of my apartment (rented through AIRBNB), and rang the bell (twice) and with increasing urgency. Alas – no answer. Francesco had a worried look on his face. I am sure he thought that he might have to take me home as an unexpected boarder. I had a fleeting thought that I could be one of the cases that wary travellers fear – an internet scam – there was no apartment and some slippery scammer had my money.

I found my landlord’s number and Francesco called it for me. After a number of rings there was an answer and Francesco informed them that their new lodger was at the door. He then told me (in Italian) that my prospective landlady was in hospital after delivering her first baby at 8.30am that morning. Dad would be on his motor scooter and be there in 10 mins. Phew!

In ten minutes he rounded the corner on one wheel and zipped up the lane full tilt; off came his helmet and I was greeted with a grin from ear to ear. Obviously he is a very proud new dad. And today Mama and baby came home. There was a knock at my door and the new family was there to show off the incredible tiny bundle – Ginevra. I have already offered myself for babysitting duties.

My apartment is spacious, comfortable and spotlessly clean. It is located on the edge of the old city inside the walls that ring the town. Completely surrounding the ancient city, the walls we see today date back to the 17th century. They are crowned by 4 km of green parkland, where people walk, cycle or stop for a picnic. Just another example of how, over the centuries, though buildings last, their roles metamorphose as times change.

I have explored some of the streets and squares nearby. Everywhere is walking distance and is quite flat – so pedestrians and bicycles rule the road. The public buildings are very grand, old palaces with wonderful medieval facades, impressive churches, twisting alleys that open onto small piazzas. Behind high walls one can glimpse gardens and courtyards. The streets have been full of tourists and holidaying Italians enjoying the last days of the European summer vacation. Hopefully this week I will see a quieter Lucca and be able to explore further afield.

Tomorrow is my first day at school – so more of that later.

Ciao

Categories: Food, Wine and Cooking, Italy, Language, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Wild about Mushrooms


The days have turned cool as winter is beckoning. The leaves have started to fall from the trees and the clouds lie in heavy grey banks along the horizon. Today is a foretaste of winter as the temperature is only 6 degrees Celsius. My mind has turned to all the delicious hearty dishes that you can enjoy at this time of year.

It is an opportunity to curl up with a cup of tea and a slice of orange cake and bring out the cook books and browse through the pages for those comfort food recipes.

During the Easter holiday I had a houseful of guests and served this easy to prepare soup. I was pleased that it was rich in flavour but not too heavy as the first course to a lengthy and filling dinner.

Zuppa di Funghi (Mushroom Soup)

• 1 kg fresh mushrooms such as: porcini, chanterelles, chestnut, Swiss browns, shitake, portbello etc
• 4 T spoon olive oil (extra for serving)
• 1 medium white onion, finely chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic chopped
• 250 dry white wine
• 1 sprig fresh sage (5 leaves)
• 1.50 litres vegetable stock
• 6 thick slices of country style bread
• 100g freshly grated parmesan cheese

1. Carefully clean the mushrooms with a damp cloth if they are a bit dirty, or wash carefully and dry on paper towel
2. Trim away any hard stems
3. Slice finely or cut into dice
4. Heat olive oil in large pan and add onion
5. Sauté on low heat until soft
6. Add chopped garlic and Sauté for a few mins
7. Turn up heat and add wine, simmer off the alcohol
8. Add mushrooms and sage
9. Sauté for a few minutes to lightly colour
10. Add the hot stock and simmer for 25 minutes until mushrooms are soft
11. Check the seasoning – add salt and pepper
12. Coarsely puree about half the mushrooms and return to the pan
13. Grill the bread slices on both sides
14. Place a slice of bread on each bowl and ladle the soup over. Sprinkle the grated parmesan cheese and add a drizzle of olive oil. If you like a little kick you can use chilli oil as the garnish – but just a touch!

Special note:
If I cannot find fresh porcini mushrooms I add a small packet of dried porcini mushrooms that have been reconstituted in 250 ml of boiling water (reduce the amount of stock by 250ml in the listed ingredients if you do this). Roughly chop the softened mushrooms. Use the mushroom liquor in the soup but be careful not to pour in the dregs as these can be a bit gritty.

I served this with a full bodied chardonnay (preferably not too oaked). Or, if you prefer, it would be well-matched with a light red such as, a Pinot Noir/Red Burgundy.

Enjoy!

,

Categories: Cooking School, Food, Wine and Cooking, Italy, Mushrooms, Photography, Recipes, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

From Pampered Pooches to Sponge Cakes

Greetings from the Southern Highlands. The leaves are now turning on their magnificent autumn display. I am amazed at the intensity and vibrancy of the colours – bright yellow through to the deepest red and every hue of rust in between. I almost drove off the road as I was too busy admiring the beautiful scenes in Kangaloon. Isn’t that a great name! Almost as good as where I live – Burrawang! Anyway, as I was reminiscing, time has certainly flown this year and it is already May.

One of the cultural highlights of the year so far was the Robertson Agricultural Show. This is certainly a red letter day on the local calendar. As usual, it rained. It is always great fun to visit a country show and tromp about in the mud carefully dodging cow pats and puddles.

The day started with a visit to the poultry pavilion with its fine feathered specimens. All the exhibits were crowing, cackling and quacking in unison. What a marvelous cacophony.

The dog judging arena is a must see. I am amused by the handlers let alone the dogs. The canines are primped and coiffed to perfection. They are certainly prissier than any blonde going out on a Saturday night date – as the saying goes “the bigger the hair, the closer to God”. The amount of hairspray and blow-drying that these pampered pooches endure is beyond the pale. Why is it that dog people grow to look like their dog?

In the main show pavilion one can enjoy a display of assorted local arts and crafts but the big ticket is the cakes and preserves. The local ladies are stiff competition but I am not daunted as next year I am going to enter my sponge cake so stand by for a big announcement of my winning entry in 2015.

My particular favourite is the children’s vegetable modelling. I had no idea that 5 potatoes of varying sizes and a number of toothpicks could be sculpted into a horse. What imagination!

A trip to the show is always topped off by the sight of handsome cattle, fine looking horses and men wandering around in big hats.

The lead up to the show always has the village abuzz. Our local butcher, Darryl is a very civic minded chap and he creates the Robertson Show in miniature outside his butcher shop for all the locals to enjoy. All the children in the village bring their toy tractors, trucks, cars and a variety animals with which Daryl works his magic. He creates a fabulous miniature show with various events including the now famous potato sack carrying competition. The sight of Barbie crowned as Miss Robertson Showgirl is a hoot. Well done Darryl.

I am looking forward to next year’s Robertson Show. There is nothing like a country show to bring out the community spirit.

Categories: Cake, Dog, Food, Wine and Cooking, Photography, Recipes, Travel, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Olive Oil – The Life Blood of Italy

Last week I met Gabriella, for lunch at a winery on the south coast of NSW not far from the village of Milton and the town of Ulladulla. Cupitt’s Winery sits snuggly on a hillside overlooking a lake and in the distance, the hills rise up to meet the clear blue autumn sky.

Over a delicious lunch and a glass of mulled wine (to keep the autumn chill out of our bones) we reminisced about the time that we’d first met in Italy in October 2012. We were both attending a week-long photographic workshop at the magic destination of Dievole winery in Tuscany.

Dievole is the quintessential Italian experience. The rolling Tuscan hills are covered in olive groves and vineyards where the vines leaves are changing to vibrant reds, oranges and rusts in the crisp autumn weather; quaint hillside towns and villages; cafes where you can sit in the sun sipping strong coffee and let time pass you by; small family-run restaurants serving fresh, local produce such as autumn truffles, freshly picked mushrooms of many shapes and colours, fresh farm cheese and a variety of meat and poultry. Every meal was an excuse to try something new, a specialty of the area prepared by the chef in his/her own style, or that of his/her mother and grandmother and all the generations of cooks before them. Culinary traditions run deep in the Italian kitchen and are held in awe by those behind the stove.

Sunrise over the Vineyards - Tuscany

Sunrise over the Vineyards – Tuscany

We woke early on our first morning to find the valleys shrouded in mist which created an ideal atmospheric “shoot” for our first photographic excursion. During the week we enjoyed many wonderful forays into the countryside, towns and villages snapping away to capture “the moment”.

One excursion I remember most fondly was visiting a nearby farm and oil press. Which was in the midst of its annual harvest and oil production. The owner gave us a tour of the press which was “all systems go” at the time as many local farmers had bought their olive crop in for pressing. At the end of the production line the oil was decanted into a variety of cans, bottles, flasks and any other suitable containers that could be mustered for the occasion.

Olive oil is a staple in Italian cooking and runs in the veins of every Italian. We were treated to the fabulous experience of tasting the year’s production on-site. In the pressing room, there is an open fire-place where crusty bread was toasted over the coals then doused with lashings of rich, peppery olive oil fresh from the press, on top of which were placed generous slices of pancetta and pecorino cheese. This mouth-watering combination was washed down by the vineyard’s red wine.

We stood next to the fire, chatting to the hum and clatter of the machinery as the giant stone wheels whirred around pressing the olives and extracting every last drop of liquid gold.

Categories: Cooking School, Food, Wine and Cooking, Italy, Photography, Recipes, Travel, Uncategorized, Wine | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Namibia – Birth, Death and Marriage

Marriage is a loose affair in Namibia, and for that matter many other parts of Africa. Polygamy is still practised in many tribes. It is a common custom that after years of marriage the husband will select a new wife to join his household. The number of wives depends on his wealth. A wealthy man owns a large herd of cows, goats and sheep that will enable him to pay the bride price. He will also need stamina to service multiple wives as there is an expectation that everyone will share his bed. Hence, families are large, complex and extend over many locations and tribes.

Family succession is an important issue that has to be resolved. The family always looks to the headman for leadership and to make decisions that will affect them all. These decisions can be trivial day-to-day issues such as family arguments, or important matters such as marriage and property disputes.

When the husband decides it is time to select his successor as head of his family, he elects the eldest son of his sister. He asks his nephew to come to his home and stay with his wife or wives for a couple of weeks so they can “get to know each other”. During this period, the husband leaves the village and goes off hunting or visiting distant friends and relatives. Meanwhile the nephew is taken into the family and is given all the rights and respect of the husband.

On the husband’s return, the nephew moves out of his uncle’s house and the uncle resumes his position as head of the household. On the death of the husband, the nephew comes to his house and takes his uncle’s wife or wives to his own house and they then join his family. Hence, in a tribe, everyone is related by blood or by adoption. There is a shared responsibility for the caring and nurturing of all children. No child is ever left homeless should something happen to his parents.

Another important issue is inheritance. This importantly determines the person’s status and ability to pay a larger bride price to attract more desirable women into the family. If inheritance is determined after death, should the man not have selected his nephew by the time he dies, the tribe believes that the dead person was “witched”. To determine who will then take the dead man’s wives, family and possessions, six eligible men of the tribe are nominated to carry the “witched coffin” until one of them feels that the dead man inside the coffin moves. This signifies that the ancestors have chosen his successor and the person who “felt the coffin move” inherits the wife or wives, house, cattle, possessions and children.

Many people have conveniently blended their traditional beliefs and values into Christianity. I met Jonas’ uncle Nicky. He and Jonas are like brothers as only a few years separate them in age – they went to school together and now both are guides at neighbouring camps in southern Namibia.

Nicky is devilishly handsome, with a wide warm smile that showcases his perfect white teeth. He is wearing a large gold cross around his neck and when I asked him how all these tribal customs rest with his Christianity, he replies,”he is very comfortable”. He can reside in the belief that both can co-exist. It seems that the people “cherry pick” what they like from both belief systems and blend them into a framework which dictates their current social and spiritual norms.


For example, when Jonas was born he was given two names. Those being: Jonas from his grandfather, who was a Christian and a tribal name of “Kakumbire”, which translate to “he didn’t pray when he passed away”. The name Kakumbire came about when Jonas mother was pregnant with Jonas, his grandfather was very ill and everyday it was his custom was to offer a Christian prayer. However, the day he died he did not pray and hence this sentiment was captured in Jonas’ Himba’s name, “Kakumbire” -“he didn’t pray when he passed away”.

Traditional spiritual customs are not the only things that co-exist with modern practices. Male circumcision is still widely practised. When the village has a number of children to be circumcised they call in the “specialist”. Each family has to buy a new blade and pay the specialist $100 Namibian (AUD20.00) each. After the deed is done, they apply a paste of paraffin and roasted herbs, which is then applied to the wound. This is slowly worn off as the cut heals.

However – the most painful tribal practise is the knocking out of the four bottom teeth in the females and males. Luckily this is not commonly practised by modern Himba but is still widespread in the tribal areas. The headman is designated to carry out this ritual by taking a nail and hammer or two stones and knocking them against the gums where the roots of the teeth are. This sounds horrifyingly painful, and no doubt it is. This practise occurs at puberty and is important part of the Himba culture that easily identifies them as Himba apart from wearing the distinctive traditional Himba clothing.


The traditional costume and grooming includes dressing the hair, particularly for the women. They braid their hair thickly with a mixture of red ochre and animal fat. These braids are finished off with large fluffy pompoms of hair at the ends. The women “bathe” their bodies all over with the red ochre/fat mixture, which makes their skin very soft and it becomes like a burnished brown colour. Their necks, ankles and arms are ornamented with a variety of jewellery, belts and metal work. They wear around their waist a small skirt of goat hide which covers their bottom and in front a small cloth for modesty.

Categories: Animals, Elephants, Giraffe, Hippos, Leopards, Lions, Namibia, Oryx, Photography, Travel, Uncategorized, White Rhino | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Namibia – Gin and Tonic With The Lions

The white saltpans of Etosha National Park in the central north of Namibia are vast. The saltpans stretch over 20,000 sq km. Etosha means “great white place” and was once a super-lake. Today, it is dry, flat and hot with very few rivers and creeks which only run during the rainy season. At that time, as the saltpan fills, thousands upon thousands of water and wading birds migrate to it. There are also many man-made waterholes which surround the enormous saltpan that stretches as far as the eye can see. The most amazing of all the animals that congregate around the waterholes are the Etosha elephants. These wonderfully huge creatures are intriguing to watch as they come to the waterholes to drink and “bathe” themselves in the white mud which then turns them into huge ghost-like creatures.

The elephants happily share the waterhole with a variety of animals including many antelope and zebra. However the elephants seem to have an intense dislike for ostriches. One young male elephant takes this enmity to an extreme – every time an ostrich approaches the waterhole, the elephant sucks up a trunk full of water and gives the ostriches a good hose down. The ostriches reply to this indignity with much fluffing of feathers, flapping wings, shaking of tails and stomping of feet while retreating to a safe distance to wait for another opportunity to approach the waterhole when this rambunctious elephant had his back turned.


Waterholes are often places where old and sick animals come to die. The heat of the plains and the rough, rocky ground are hard on old feet and the grass is often dry and brittle. These weary animals make their way to a waterhole in the hope of sweet, soft grass and the coolness of the water. It is interesting to observe this cycle of life as it turns a full 360 degrees. Eventually, these aged, sick or wounded animals become the life giving meals to a whole range of other animals from the big cats, to the scavengers like jackals and hyenas, and of course the vultures, storks and buzzards circling in the sky that will their descent onto the carcass.

On my last game drive in Ongava, my guide Bono suggested that we visit a distant waterhole with the hope that we would see the resident pride of lions which we had tracked in the morning. On arrival at the waterhole in the late afternoon we saw at a short distance, in the thick bush that surrounded the waterhole, a number of giraffe nervously approaching the waterhole. They were cautiously eyeing the open ground around the waterhole as this is a very dangerous place for any unwary animals. Sure enough, there was a huge male lion and lioness lying in the grass metres from the waterhole. The giraffes, pushed by thirst, approached the waterhole but the sense of self preservation made them reconsider and they retired back into the thick scrub to wait for a safer time to drink.

We sat there quietly for some minutes and out from the long, thick grass emerged another lioness and followed by six cubs around eight weeks old. They made their way to the water’s edge and, one-by-one they lined up and started lapping the water. As if this sight wasn’t wonderful enough, another three females with older cubs around six months approached with a huge male sporting a magnificent, thick black mane. They all clustered around the waterhole and drank freely and loudly.


I was amazed how the sound of their lapping carried to where we were sitting some 10 metres away. The lapping of all those thirsty tongues was like the sound of many small hands softly clapping. They continued to drink for quite a while until their thirst was completely sated, as this would have to last them through the night while they hunted.

As each of the lions took their fill, they lay down beside the waterhole and relaxed or grabbed forty winks while the younger cubs played. The cubs spent their time wrestling with each other or sneaking up on the lionesses to grab their tails, bite their hind legs, or crawl over their mother if she was lying down and grab a quick drink of milk. The lionesses were patient up to a point, but if the wrestling became too vigorous, she would get up and go over and give the cubs a soft hit with her paw to quieten them down.


The least patient of all in the pride were the large males. One had removed himself from the group and was keeping close company with a female and discouraged interaction with the cubs. The other male was quietly lying by the water, and every now and then, a cub would approach and try to engage him in some fun. This was quickly rebuffed by a deep growl, a quick flick of his tail or a swat of his huge paw. Everyone seemed to know that these big boys were serious and not into games with the kids.

Sundownders are part of the ritual in the African bush; as the sun set, Bono prepared our gins and tonics. We then sat in the Land Rover with our drinks and watched this magnificent family of 20 lions play, relax and communicate with each other. They were completely uninhibited by us and walked up to the Land Rover and around us to investigate noises in the bush with sharp eyes and keen ears.

My heart skipped a beat and I looked to Bono for reassurance when a very large and fit female approached the jeep and stared at us through the windscreen for five minutes. She was only one leap away from joining us in the front seat. Satisfied that we did not pose a threat, she ambled off to join her sisters and cubs.

Much of this playacting by the cubs is in preparation for hunting. The cubs stalk each other and then pounce on their brother or sister and try to wrestle them to the ground. When they are old enough to follow their mothers into the bush for a real hunt, the adult females will bring to the ground a small quarry so they learn how to kill it by choking it around the neck. Then it will be their turn to try their skill at stalking and bringing down their own prey. There will be many lost opportunities along the way, but eventually, they will take their place as part of this finely tuned hunting machine.

It was a wonderful opportunity to watch and study the lions as such close quarters. Their social and familial bonds are very strong and totally cohesive if the pride stays intact. This is the responsibility of the alpha males in the pride, they need to protect their home range and spend much time proclaiming their ownership by marking their territory, sending out loud calls to warn off any intruders and protecting the females from any threat.


The younger adult males will be pushed out of the pride by the alpha males. These young males will then form a coalition by themselves or join up with other solitary males and become a bachelor group. They wander the bush looking for other prides that they may be able to join, or as they mature, they will try to challenge the resident alpha males. If victorious, the young lion will take the place as alpha male in the pride. These fights are vicious and often deadly.

When a young male is victorious, he will lay down the law to all the females and, if there are cubs in the pride, he will kill them. The females will then come into heat and he can then mate with them immediately to ensure that his genes are carried onto the next generation.

It was a very moving, but nerve wracking experience, sitting in the African wilderness with a huge pride of lions moving about only feet away. They are intelligent, strong, socially organised and formidable. These magnificent animals are indeed king of the African bush!

Categories: Animals, Botswana, Elephants, Giraffe, Lions, Namibia, Photography, Travel, Uncategorized, Zambia, Zebra | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Namibia – Action at The Waterhole

Next stop is Ongava Camp just outside Etosha National Park in Northern Namibia. Ongava is set in 33,000 sq hectares of dry savannah grassland with large areas of mopane forests intersected by rocky volcanic crags, rugged forested hills and a myriad of dry creek beds. It is a thirsty, dusty landscape and the occasional waterholes are dry but patiently waiting for the next rainy season. During spring temperatures are in the mid 30’s and unbelievably 45 – 50 in summer. In summer it is just hot, hot, hot day and night!

My guide for three days is Bono, a very handsome man around 30 years old, with a quiet and respectful manner but with a quick turn of wit and a devilish sense of humour. I am fortunate to spend these days in his company learning so much about the African bush, the wonderful and unique animals, his life history and his future aspirations plus the challenges that face the people of Namibia.

The accommodation at Ongava is in 12 large comfortable tents with en suite bathrooms with open air showers (definitely not recommended for use after dark or before down as you may be bathing with a lion, a hyena or a leopard). The open air dining and bar area sits at the base of a dolomite hill and fronts onto a very busy waterhole where a procession of animals come day and night to quench their thirst.

The journey home to my tent each night is an edgy experience. I am accompanied by Rio who is the camp sharp-shooter and his trusty rifle as you never know what predator you may meet during your trek back to the safety of your tent.  We make our way from the main lodge to my tent which is the second to last tent in camp (more time for that hungry lion to size me up as his next meal). Rio is in the lead with rifle gripped in one hand and torch in the other. He walks slowly while shining the torch around the surrounding bush and trees as we make our way through the dark. The hot breath on his neck was not that of a lion bearing down on him but me only centimetres from his back gripping onto his arm for reassurance. Why is it always at times like these that nervous chatter turns to the weather?


The waterhole in front of the camp attracts numerous animals day and night. These include impalas and gazelle with their delicate fine legs and beautiful big eyes set in their pretty faces. They remind me of ballerinas “en pointe”. Their graceful movements and agility is remarkable as they prance and jump skittishly about. Bigger antelope such as the kudu are ever watchful and anxious, the males with their magnificent horns that spiral upwards of a metre. There are also the fantastic oryx with their black masked faces and horns that are straight black sabres pointing directly skywards for a metre. Hartebeest with deep red-brown coats and curved short horns. Zebras pushing and shoving each other like kids in a sweet shop trying to be first to the counter. Their shimmering coats of black and white stripes make it difficult to tell the number of individuals in the herd. Their markings “en masse” appropriately give credence to the collective noun for zebras which is “a dazzle”. And dazzle they do!

Then comes the graceful and so impossibly tall giraffe – they carefully splay their front legs apart so their heads can reach the water. I am amazed that such a tall and large beast can be so graceful. They have a slow and rhythmic walk and when running the break into a smooth canter.
Did you know that:
• they have a black tongue which is 18 inches long
• they are rarely heard but can moo, hiss, roar and whistle to communicate with one another
• giraffes have the longest tail of any land mammal – up to 8 feet long, including the tuft at the end
• ancient Romans and Greeks thought that the giraffe was a mix between a camel and a leopard. This is where their scientific genus name of “camelopardalis” comes from
• their heart is 2 feet long and weighs about 25 pounds and pumps about 16 gallons of blood/minute
• mother giraffes form a type of day-care for their young. One of the females in the herd will stay behind and baby sits all of the youngsters while the rest of the females go out foraging for food
• despite its extreme length, the giraffe’s neck is actually too short to reach the ground. As a result, it has to awkwardly spread its front legs or kneel on its front legs in order to reach the ground to drink water
• it is the tallest animal in the world – males stand 16-18 feet
• females use their hooves as weapons only to defend their young. They are strong enough to kill a lion, which is the giraffe’s only real predator
• they can gallop 31-37 miles per hour
• males are known as bulls and  females are known as cows
• giraffes rest standing up and only sleep 5 minutes at a time. When sleeping, the giraffe generally lies on the ground, tucking its front legs under itself, then curls its neck back and rests its head on its rump
• they spend between 16 and 20 hours a day feeding.

The waterhole is a dangerous place – this is where all the animals gather, the strong and the weak, the old and the young. Here is a great opportunity for the predators to strike and get a quick meal. Everyone is on guard and often sentries are appointed as lookouts, ears and tails twitch and there is much nervous shuffling of hooves but the need for water far out ways the fear of predators.


At night, there were some special visitors – a small group of white rhinos came to drink. There is a mother and baby who is around three years old and is already two thirds her size. They silently appear out of the darkness like silent grey ghosts. Their huge bodies and large square heads swinging low as they walk, their bulk is in stark contrast to their soft footed and silent approach.

Categories: Animals, Botswana, Elephants, Giraffe, Leopards, Lions, Namibia, Oryx, Photography, Travel, Uncategorized, White Rhino, Zebra | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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