The garden sprinklers were ticking away and the sun was filtering through the leaves of the knobthorn, apple-leaf and bushwillow trees. We were at Kwando Camp, near Kongola in the Caprivi/Zambezi region of Namibia, and it was the first time we’d had a grassed campsite instead of sand in a whole month. It felt like five-star luxury.
Less lazy than me, my travelling companion spent a whole morning faffing around with solar panels and fridges and pliers and drills and whatnot. That he was humming tunelessly as he worked was a sign he was as happy fiddling about in these lush surroundings as I was dozing.
the time I looked up to see what it was, it had already flown away.
For us, it was a bonus. We had that green, shady paradise almost to ourselves.
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