Source(google.com.pk)
Australian Animals Pictures Biography
After ten minutes, Robert returned. He had secured us seats on a shuttle for $5 a piece. Smiling we strode past the haughty cab drivers to our shuttle. The road into Arusha was clear and modern and we made great time. At first vast grasslands - surprisingly like the plains of North Dakota - filled the windows, eventually giving way to scrubby trees, then lush groves of banana and mango, and five foot tall termite mounds. Alright, maybe not so much like North Dakota.
Arriving in Arusha we crossed our fingers. There was one hope for a cheap hotel room, and then everything else was $80 and upwards. A smiling woman at the Lutheran Centre assured us that she had rooms, though they were now 15,000 TSh (tanzanian shillings, $1 = 1300TSh) instead of the the 5,000TSh that our guidebook, only six months old, had indicated. Still, it was a fantastic bargain. The rooms were spotless, bright and airy, and even had a TV. The bathrooms were likewise, minus the TV, but with the addition of hot water. It had been 4 days since I had had a real shower, much less a hot one, and I was fairly salivating.
We showered and unpacked, and then ventured out to find dinner. At this point I had my money hidden in four different places, and all of my valuables peppered in the side pockets of the great safari pants my Mom gave me for Xmas. We had all read accounts of muggings, occasionally at knife or gun point, and I was determined that they would not find most of it. Most of these reports were more about Kenya than Tanzania, but we were wary nonetheless.
Leaving the Lutheran Centre was an experience. The first view of a new city always is. In Thailand it is largely of smiling faces and cloying tuk-tuk drivers. In Kathmandu Robert and I would always clutch our backpacks, not out of fear rather to facilitate speed, and plow through the gaggle of eight year old boys hounding us to buy hashish. Each city is unique, but Tanzania had one thing in common with Kathmandu. I told Robert and Joe, "walk fast, and don't look anyone."
We hardly had taken ten steps when a swarm of men, as if they were magnetically compelled to, encircled us. A flurry of, "Jambo," a Swahili version of hello, engulfed us, and was followed by, "where are you from", "come to my store, just looking no buying", and "need a taxi" (I snorted derisively at this last one), which all buzzed in a cloud of noise. This in itself was not wholly new. I'm fully aware that I come from one of the richest countries in the world (for a surprise try to figure out what your chances were of being born in a 'rich' country like US, Europe, Japan, Australia etc.are), and that I would probably see tourists as walking dollar signs had I been born in Tanzania. However, this was a new level of aggressiveness. Men rudely shoved things in our faces, tried to put them in our hands (ostensibly we would have to pay for them then), and herded us in their circle. Also, they followed us. We walked for blocks. Instead of tiring, more came. I was a bit freaked.
Eventually we found a nice Indian place for dinner. Perhaps not surprisingly the owner had to unbar the door, unlock it and then open it to let us in. We were the only patrons, and this should have disconcerted me. But I was too hungry. The dinner was great, albeit early - around 5.30pm. As we finished I glanced out the window and saw the sun was swiftly disappearing. We were now in the Southern hemisphere, which meant it was now winter, though I couldn't tell it from the temperature. It also means that the days are largely the same length, and 7.00pm was the sun setting time. I said, "it's getting dark, perhaps we should get back to the guesthouse." Robert and Joe nodded, we paid our bill, and strode out onto the street.
The first thing we noticed was that every business, from restaurant to grocery store to gas station, was closed. The street lights were few and far between, and groups of men huddled in dark shadows. "Keep close and walk fast," one of us said, and we did. I don't think we were panicked, but we were certainly frightened.
Before continuing, I should probably bore you with some Tanzanian history. Don't worry, this one is much shorter than Ethiopia. This is partly due to the fact that Tanzania does not have the continuous history that Ethiopia has. Also, Tanzania was occupied, several times, and this tends to fragment and erase history. Tanzania is an amalgalm of the old countries Tanganyika and Zanzibar which merged in 1964. Both had been occupied by the Germans, and Tanganyika after fighting off the Germans through an intensive guerilla war, was then occupied by the British. The latter lasted all the way through WWII, when Tanganyika was given license to elect some of its own people to government (how polite of the British), and subsequently led to Tanganyika's independence in 1961.
Tanzania is home to over 120 different ethnic groups all of which speak their own language. In the US we complain because some people speak Spanish instead of English. Imagine how difficult it would be to communicate with 120 different languages! Swahili has often been a unifying tongue that allowed separate groups to communicate, and, under the English, English itself was quite popular. This declined after independence, but in the last decade has regained steam. Tanzania has learned, like it or not, that English is the current de facto language of the world, and to operate on a global market the people need to speak English.
Tanzania is home to a wealth of world-famous national parks. The Serengeti is probably the most familiar one, but Ngorongoro Crater is nearly as spectacular, and certainly more singular. Most of the countries wealth comes from its agricultural exports, which is impressive as only 4% of the country is arable; however, in recent years tourism has brought in increasing amounts of wealth (ahem $50 cab rides).
Idi Amin was the ruler of Tanzania and is probably the best known person from there. And, lastly, Tanzania is about half the size of Alaska.
Anyone wanting to read further here:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanzania
Back to the present (or is it past?) Somehow the atmosphere had switched from tropical and foreign to walking onto the set of Thriller circa 1984, except there was no one decked in red leather and singing. Honestly, I don't know that I would have been surprised to see one of the men looking up with a zombie face. Of course that would have been more determinate. I would have known that they meant us harm. Instead they glowered, thrust out their chins in challenge, and swaggered in front of us and around us. I don't know if it was all for show or not, but we did get back safely. I desperately wanted to do internet that evening in order to catch up on my travelogue, but that was right out. I doubt I could have found one open had I gone looking.
We have always enjoyed setting our own itineraries, and blazing our own trail. Often times this leads to grittier traveling, but it rankles us to compromise on these trips. Especially as we work so diligently throughout the year, often at the behest of others, to afford these trips. We were about to discover that Africa was completely different from our other travels, and our luck with the cab drivers at the airport would be some of our only luck in that vein.
In the morning we spent hours trying to call various lodges around Arusha. I should probably mention that Serengeti National Park is not far from Arusha, and at this time of the year is the prime location to see the Serengeti migration and the 'Big Five'. (Big Five = Lion, Leopard, Elephant, Rhinoceros, and Cape Buffalo) So, numerous lodges have sprung up on the border of Serengeti National Park, and some of the other national parks nearby. One had a triple room (right up our alley), and it was only $128. Trust me, that was a bargain. You might think that any place that charged 1/3 of an average yearly income for a single night's sleep might have an operator that speaks English, or might even have an operator. You would be wrong on both counts.
After several frustrating hours, we realized that our game plan would have to change. Instead of trying to call the lodges directly, we opted to visit a recommended safari company in the hopes that they could contact the lodges. Barring that they might be able set up a package for us, but that would probably mean that we would be stuck in a vehicle with a bunch of people we didn't know, and we would have be negotiating each sight, how long to stay there, what to see next, when to return and so on. We were reluctant to do the latter, but we certainly had not come all this way not to see the animals.
It was a long walk, which only heartened me, as there were no touts in the city center desperately, pleadingly, aggressively yanking us towards a tour company that was a mile walk away. To make a long story short (much too late I know) the woman we talked to was so impressive, so informative, so concerned with designing precisely what we wanted that we bought a safari package that day. Had you asked us if we wanted a package that day, or if we would buy a package without at least comparing their offer with another companies, we would have emphatically said no. She was so good, I would like to fly her back to the US so I can hire her. It's not that she could sell Eskimos (they prefer Inuit) a refrigerator (they actually do need them incidentally - who wants a frozen apple), it is that she answered all our questions before we asked them. She insisted on showing us our vehicle, and painstakingly wrote out our dietary requests.
We left nearly $1,000 lighter, and feeling like it would be a bargain. That is a lot of money to part with, but I would much rather have such a singular experience not be diluted by bad food, a guide who didn't speak English or lacked a familiarity with the animals, or a Landcruiser that broke down in the middle of the savannah. Mind you that money only got us tents for sleeping at night. Lodges would have been more like $2,500 -10,000.
Excited, we ventured back into the city, denounced the touts with cries, "we already have a safari," which worked something like water on the wicked witch of the west, and busily bought water, snacks, batteries, and postcards. I like to send a postcard out to each child in my family along with a few other friends and family and my list is currently 27 people long. I know I would have loved to receive a postcard from Tanzania when I was 8, and I'm certain my imagination would have imbued it with all the mystery and magic of Mars or Narnia. Since, we had to be back in our rooms by 7pm, the witching (warlocking) hour, we scurried about Arusha. It was with smiles of great anticipation that we went to bed that night.
At 8.30am we met Eliona, our guide, and David, our cook, at reception. Both were full of smiles, and they showed us to the Landcruiser. In the US a Landcruiser is a standard Toyota gas guzzler; however, in Tanzania they have been chopped, augmented, and refabricated something akin to the limousine Hummers one occasionally sneers at in larger cities. These Landcruisers have been extended, to accommodate a third row of seats and a huge trunk, all of the doors have sills higher than the floor to inhibit water from entering (useful, trust me), and the floors are all hose-friendly rubber. Additonally, the roof is detachable, or more precisely, hydraulic. By detaching four clasps the entire roof slides up about three feet. This allows people to stand in the vehicle and have a 360 degree view. Of course that came later.
Driving out of Arusha, Eliona regaled us with some of the sights we would see and some descriptions of native tribes. The scenery quickly changed from grubby buildings to groves of coffee plants and bananas. The smell was also a delightful change. Catalytic converters much like gyms, fast internet, and safe drinking water are unfortunately primarily a first world (the term seems to be changing to 'most industrialized') habit. Consequently, I had a headache every day from the clouds, and I mean clouds of black soot belching out of the back every vehicle. As we left Arusha that oily astringent smell went with it, and was replaced by novel oxygen and earthy smells.
Several hours later we arrived at out campsite where David and most of our equipment were left behind. David would be cooking dinner and setting up the campsite whle we visited Manyara National Park. It was a quick thrity minute drive, and we were there. We toured the visitor center while Eliona arranged our passes. The walk was scenc and detailed many of the animals we would hopefully see. More importantly we learned that the river's name that fed Manyara Lake was named 'Mosquito River', albeit in Swahili. Well, we had come prepared.
Eliona returned, and soon we were bumbling over rough dirt road. This park is far more lush than most in the area due to a geological glitch. It rarely rains near the lake, but none of the plants want for water. Ngorongoro Crater, which is nearby, has far more rain. The water travels underground from the crater to Manyara National Park where it then percolates upwards. Instead of the rain coming down from the sky, it bubbles up from the ground.
So there was a wealth of trees, verdant bushes, and stands of swaying grass. This park has a particularly large number of one of the most bizarre trees in the world, the baobab. Most species of this tree are endemic to Madagascar (have to go there someday too), but one grows in Africa as well. These trees can be as tall as 100ft, but more impressively can be as wide as 35ft. Read that again. That means that the circumference of the tree can - at the limit - be as great as 110ft. Imagine walking around a tree like that!
The baobab has adapted to arid conditions, and it has evolved novel way of combating droughts. Most trees are solid all the way through, but the baobob is hollow. It uses this space to typically store water, and can store up to 30,000 gallons. To put that in perspective, though this tree mostly throws perspective right out the window, that is enough water to fill a swimming pool with dimensions 10 feet deep by 40 feet long by 10 feet wide. Now read that twice too. When these trees die, you could cut open a door and have the worlds strangest apartment. Better yet, imagine what kind of fort this would have made when you were young. This trounces anything you can make from mattresses and pillows when Mom isn't watching.
Strangely, which should now be common for this tree, it does not grow rings. Consequently, some claim that the largest specimens are thousands of years old. Others doubt this, but without rings we have no way of actually determining their age - alive or dead. Anything that can hold a swimming pool in its trunk, and qualifies for a 100ft dash around it almost certainly qualifies as old in my book. Hopefully scientists can figure it out some day.
The leaves of this remarkable tree are edible, and the fruit can be used to make a type of wine. The seeds are often used like corn starch to thicken soup or gravies, or pounded to extract vegetable oil.
Anyone wanting to know more about baobabs here:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baobab
We had barely been driving for 5 minutes when we saw our first of many baobobs. It was a brute, and looked as ungainly bottom heavy as it looked entrancing. Of course we were almost immediately distracted by a troop of baboons scampering about a tree on the other side of the road. Using our binoculars we found that not only was the tree full of baboons but also blue monkeys. These were much smaller and leaped from branch to branch in a way I desperately envied. I have often enjoyed an afternoon in a tree with a good book, and I can only wonder how much better if I could effortlessly jump between the branches and swing between the trees. I might even leave the book on the ground.
Anyone wanting to see a picture of a blue monkey here.
Australian Animals Pictures Biography
After ten minutes, Robert returned. He had secured us seats on a shuttle for $5 a piece. Smiling we strode past the haughty cab drivers to our shuttle. The road into Arusha was clear and modern and we made great time. At first vast grasslands - surprisingly like the plains of North Dakota - filled the windows, eventually giving way to scrubby trees, then lush groves of banana and mango, and five foot tall termite mounds. Alright, maybe not so much like North Dakota.
Arriving in Arusha we crossed our fingers. There was one hope for a cheap hotel room, and then everything else was $80 and upwards. A smiling woman at the Lutheran Centre assured us that she had rooms, though they were now 15,000 TSh (tanzanian shillings, $1 = 1300TSh) instead of the the 5,000TSh that our guidebook, only six months old, had indicated. Still, it was a fantastic bargain. The rooms were spotless, bright and airy, and even had a TV. The bathrooms were likewise, minus the TV, but with the addition of hot water. It had been 4 days since I had had a real shower, much less a hot one, and I was fairly salivating.
We showered and unpacked, and then ventured out to find dinner. At this point I had my money hidden in four different places, and all of my valuables peppered in the side pockets of the great safari pants my Mom gave me for Xmas. We had all read accounts of muggings, occasionally at knife or gun point, and I was determined that they would not find most of it. Most of these reports were more about Kenya than Tanzania, but we were wary nonetheless.
Leaving the Lutheran Centre was an experience. The first view of a new city always is. In Thailand it is largely of smiling faces and cloying tuk-tuk drivers. In Kathmandu Robert and I would always clutch our backpacks, not out of fear rather to facilitate speed, and plow through the gaggle of eight year old boys hounding us to buy hashish. Each city is unique, but Tanzania had one thing in common with Kathmandu. I told Robert and Joe, "walk fast, and don't look anyone."
We hardly had taken ten steps when a swarm of men, as if they were magnetically compelled to, encircled us. A flurry of, "Jambo," a Swahili version of hello, engulfed us, and was followed by, "where are you from", "come to my store, just looking no buying", and "need a taxi" (I snorted derisively at this last one), which all buzzed in a cloud of noise. This in itself was not wholly new. I'm fully aware that I come from one of the richest countries in the world (for a surprise try to figure out what your chances were of being born in a 'rich' country like US, Europe, Japan, Australia etc.are), and that I would probably see tourists as walking dollar signs had I been born in Tanzania. However, this was a new level of aggressiveness. Men rudely shoved things in our faces, tried to put them in our hands (ostensibly we would have to pay for them then), and herded us in their circle. Also, they followed us. We walked for blocks. Instead of tiring, more came. I was a bit freaked.
Eventually we found a nice Indian place for dinner. Perhaps not surprisingly the owner had to unbar the door, unlock it and then open it to let us in. We were the only patrons, and this should have disconcerted me. But I was too hungry. The dinner was great, albeit early - around 5.30pm. As we finished I glanced out the window and saw the sun was swiftly disappearing. We were now in the Southern hemisphere, which meant it was now winter, though I couldn't tell it from the temperature. It also means that the days are largely the same length, and 7.00pm was the sun setting time. I said, "it's getting dark, perhaps we should get back to the guesthouse." Robert and Joe nodded, we paid our bill, and strode out onto the street.
The first thing we noticed was that every business, from restaurant to grocery store to gas station, was closed. The street lights were few and far between, and groups of men huddled in dark shadows. "Keep close and walk fast," one of us said, and we did. I don't think we were panicked, but we were certainly frightened.
Before continuing, I should probably bore you with some Tanzanian history. Don't worry, this one is much shorter than Ethiopia. This is partly due to the fact that Tanzania does not have the continuous history that Ethiopia has. Also, Tanzania was occupied, several times, and this tends to fragment and erase history. Tanzania is an amalgalm of the old countries Tanganyika and Zanzibar which merged in 1964. Both had been occupied by the Germans, and Tanganyika after fighting off the Germans through an intensive guerilla war, was then occupied by the British. The latter lasted all the way through WWII, when Tanganyika was given license to elect some of its own people to government (how polite of the British), and subsequently led to Tanganyika's independence in 1961.
Tanzania is home to over 120 different ethnic groups all of which speak their own language. In the US we complain because some people speak Spanish instead of English. Imagine how difficult it would be to communicate with 120 different languages! Swahili has often been a unifying tongue that allowed separate groups to communicate, and, under the English, English itself was quite popular. This declined after independence, but in the last decade has regained steam. Tanzania has learned, like it or not, that English is the current de facto language of the world, and to operate on a global market the people need to speak English.
Tanzania is home to a wealth of world-famous national parks. The Serengeti is probably the most familiar one, but Ngorongoro Crater is nearly as spectacular, and certainly more singular. Most of the countries wealth comes from its agricultural exports, which is impressive as only 4% of the country is arable; however, in recent years tourism has brought in increasing amounts of wealth (ahem $50 cab rides).
Idi Amin was the ruler of Tanzania and is probably the best known person from there. And, lastly, Tanzania is about half the size of Alaska.
Anyone wanting to read further here:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanzania
Back to the present (or is it past?) Somehow the atmosphere had switched from tropical and foreign to walking onto the set of Thriller circa 1984, except there was no one decked in red leather and singing. Honestly, I don't know that I would have been surprised to see one of the men looking up with a zombie face. Of course that would have been more determinate. I would have known that they meant us harm. Instead they glowered, thrust out their chins in challenge, and swaggered in front of us and around us. I don't know if it was all for show or not, but we did get back safely. I desperately wanted to do internet that evening in order to catch up on my travelogue, but that was right out. I doubt I could have found one open had I gone looking.
We have always enjoyed setting our own itineraries, and blazing our own trail. Often times this leads to grittier traveling, but it rankles us to compromise on these trips. Especially as we work so diligently throughout the year, often at the behest of others, to afford these trips. We were about to discover that Africa was completely different from our other travels, and our luck with the cab drivers at the airport would be some of our only luck in that vein.
In the morning we spent hours trying to call various lodges around Arusha. I should probably mention that Serengeti National Park is not far from Arusha, and at this time of the year is the prime location to see the Serengeti migration and the 'Big Five'. (Big Five = Lion, Leopard, Elephant, Rhinoceros, and Cape Buffalo) So, numerous lodges have sprung up on the border of Serengeti National Park, and some of the other national parks nearby. One had a triple room (right up our alley), and it was only $128. Trust me, that was a bargain. You might think that any place that charged 1/3 of an average yearly income for a single night's sleep might have an operator that speaks English, or might even have an operator. You would be wrong on both counts.
After several frustrating hours, we realized that our game plan would have to change. Instead of trying to call the lodges directly, we opted to visit a recommended safari company in the hopes that they could contact the lodges. Barring that they might be able set up a package for us, but that would probably mean that we would be stuck in a vehicle with a bunch of people we didn't know, and we would have be negotiating each sight, how long to stay there, what to see next, when to return and so on. We were reluctant to do the latter, but we certainly had not come all this way not to see the animals.
It was a long walk, which only heartened me, as there were no touts in the city center desperately, pleadingly, aggressively yanking us towards a tour company that was a mile walk away. To make a long story short (much too late I know) the woman we talked to was so impressive, so informative, so concerned with designing precisely what we wanted that we bought a safari package that day. Had you asked us if we wanted a package that day, or if we would buy a package without at least comparing their offer with another companies, we would have emphatically said no. She was so good, I would like to fly her back to the US so I can hire her. It's not that she could sell Eskimos (they prefer Inuit) a refrigerator (they actually do need them incidentally - who wants a frozen apple), it is that she answered all our questions before we asked them. She insisted on showing us our vehicle, and painstakingly wrote out our dietary requests.
We left nearly $1,000 lighter, and feeling like it would be a bargain. That is a lot of money to part with, but I would much rather have such a singular experience not be diluted by bad food, a guide who didn't speak English or lacked a familiarity with the animals, or a Landcruiser that broke down in the middle of the savannah. Mind you that money only got us tents for sleeping at night. Lodges would have been more like $2,500 -10,000.
Excited, we ventured back into the city, denounced the touts with cries, "we already have a safari," which worked something like water on the wicked witch of the west, and busily bought water, snacks, batteries, and postcards. I like to send a postcard out to each child in my family along with a few other friends and family and my list is currently 27 people long. I know I would have loved to receive a postcard from Tanzania when I was 8, and I'm certain my imagination would have imbued it with all the mystery and magic of Mars or Narnia. Since, we had to be back in our rooms by 7pm, the witching (warlocking) hour, we scurried about Arusha. It was with smiles of great anticipation that we went to bed that night.
At 8.30am we met Eliona, our guide, and David, our cook, at reception. Both were full of smiles, and they showed us to the Landcruiser. In the US a Landcruiser is a standard Toyota gas guzzler; however, in Tanzania they have been chopped, augmented, and refabricated something akin to the limousine Hummers one occasionally sneers at in larger cities. These Landcruisers have been extended, to accommodate a third row of seats and a huge trunk, all of the doors have sills higher than the floor to inhibit water from entering (useful, trust me), and the floors are all hose-friendly rubber. Additonally, the roof is detachable, or more precisely, hydraulic. By detaching four clasps the entire roof slides up about three feet. This allows people to stand in the vehicle and have a 360 degree view. Of course that came later.
Driving out of Arusha, Eliona regaled us with some of the sights we would see and some descriptions of native tribes. The scenery quickly changed from grubby buildings to groves of coffee plants and bananas. The smell was also a delightful change. Catalytic converters much like gyms, fast internet, and safe drinking water are unfortunately primarily a first world (the term seems to be changing to 'most industrialized') habit. Consequently, I had a headache every day from the clouds, and I mean clouds of black soot belching out of the back every vehicle. As we left Arusha that oily astringent smell went with it, and was replaced by novel oxygen and earthy smells.
Several hours later we arrived at out campsite where David and most of our equipment were left behind. David would be cooking dinner and setting up the campsite whle we visited Manyara National Park. It was a quick thrity minute drive, and we were there. We toured the visitor center while Eliona arranged our passes. The walk was scenc and detailed many of the animals we would hopefully see. More importantly we learned that the river's name that fed Manyara Lake was named 'Mosquito River', albeit in Swahili. Well, we had come prepared.
Eliona returned, and soon we were bumbling over rough dirt road. This park is far more lush than most in the area due to a geological glitch. It rarely rains near the lake, but none of the plants want for water. Ngorongoro Crater, which is nearby, has far more rain. The water travels underground from the crater to Manyara National Park where it then percolates upwards. Instead of the rain coming down from the sky, it bubbles up from the ground.
So there was a wealth of trees, verdant bushes, and stands of swaying grass. This park has a particularly large number of one of the most bizarre trees in the world, the baobab. Most species of this tree are endemic to Madagascar (have to go there someday too), but one grows in Africa as well. These trees can be as tall as 100ft, but more impressively can be as wide as 35ft. Read that again. That means that the circumference of the tree can - at the limit - be as great as 110ft. Imagine walking around a tree like that!
The baobab has adapted to arid conditions, and it has evolved novel way of combating droughts. Most trees are solid all the way through, but the baobob is hollow. It uses this space to typically store water, and can store up to 30,000 gallons. To put that in perspective, though this tree mostly throws perspective right out the window, that is enough water to fill a swimming pool with dimensions 10 feet deep by 40 feet long by 10 feet wide. Now read that twice too. When these trees die, you could cut open a door and have the worlds strangest apartment. Better yet, imagine what kind of fort this would have made when you were young. This trounces anything you can make from mattresses and pillows when Mom isn't watching.
Strangely, which should now be common for this tree, it does not grow rings. Consequently, some claim that the largest specimens are thousands of years old. Others doubt this, but without rings we have no way of actually determining their age - alive or dead. Anything that can hold a swimming pool in its trunk, and qualifies for a 100ft dash around it almost certainly qualifies as old in my book. Hopefully scientists can figure it out some day.
The leaves of this remarkable tree are edible, and the fruit can be used to make a type of wine. The seeds are often used like corn starch to thicken soup or gravies, or pounded to extract vegetable oil.
Anyone wanting to know more about baobabs here:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baobab
We had barely been driving for 5 minutes when we saw our first of many baobobs. It was a brute, and looked as ungainly bottom heavy as it looked entrancing. Of course we were almost immediately distracted by a troop of baboons scampering about a tree on the other side of the road. Using our binoculars we found that not only was the tree full of baboons but also blue monkeys. These were much smaller and leaped from branch to branch in a way I desperately envied. I have often enjoyed an afternoon in a tree with a good book, and I can only wonder how much better if I could effortlessly jump between the branches and swing between the trees. I might even leave the book on the ground.
Anyone wanting to see a picture of a blue monkey here.
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
Australian Animals Pictures
No comments:
Post a Comment