After the warthog situation at our African bush cabin, we regrouped, lakeside. Andrew and I have had some decisions to make and paths to take, and with a remote view out onto the lake, the setting couldn't have been more perfect. We lay beneath the afternoon sun, weighing out goals and reviewing past successes. 


The soft high mineral sands fell between my toes as I paced checking for Hippos. I guess that if I did come across the animal with the highest human kill rate, uh, I'd probably toss my new straw hat at it and peg it up a tree. Luckily at Bishangari the scouts are armed and watch the shoreline carefully.  


Which mean that guests can do a whole lot of this...

Once the coast was clear, and the sundowners ordered, the warm bilharzia free waters were tempting.

I heard the giggles of two little mermaids as they raced toward the waters. Andrew scooped up Jose while Luce heald onto her Papa as they breached the waves. 

Chala's afternoon of luxurious peace came to an end as we screeched with laughter together. Enjoying his sun bed and chilled beer he bowed his eyebrow in wonder as to why we found wading into the brown volcanic waters so tempting. 

The winds changed, and the warm air suddenly turned cold. We shivered back to the shore. I curled back into my hammock with a glass of gin and tonic to hide from the cool breeze. As I sipped and begun to rock, two shivering toddlers joined me. 

The breeze rocked us beside the setting sun. "Tell me a story....." Luce asked. Now, since the punting duck tale earlier this summer, here, my freestyle on the spot stories have been improving. So, I begun... There once lived a hungry hippo....