Luke's Diary:... Last day, I return home.
Upon returning from my trip to Africa, I am carrying out the baggage opening operation. It is a melancholy operation because it means that the hunt is over and the intensity of the moments experienced is now a memory. I unzip the hunting bag, and, as soon as I pull the flaps aside, the strong smell of clothes used in the bush, impregnated with "mopane" wood smoke, grabs me violently and takes me back to the hills of the Eastern Cape . The power of the shot bounces from rock to rock and that black wildebeest, which seemed unreachable, now lies at my feet. A textbook approach took us about 50 meters and Bennie's imperceptible nod kicked off the conclusion: her contagious laugh still rings in my ears.
South Africa lived like this, in friendship and without particular filters, has a different flavor, it is true and strong Africa, between an approach on the grassy plains to a herd of springbocks and climbing on the green walls of a kopje to undermine the mountain reedbuck. The one with the elusive nyala was also a great challenge but, thanks to the foresight of the talented trackers, even the beautiful tragelafo is to be counted among the trophies acquired.
A nice trip to Addo National Park, a lobster and seafood dinner in Port Elizabeth and the backpack of memories is enriched with another fragment.
Luca