About
About The Blog
As half of an expat management couple of a luxury tented camp in a famous game reserve in Kenya, most guests seem to think that after waving them off on their game drives I pop back to bed for the day, presumably with a gin, resurfacing only in the evening to listen to their tales of the bush. Others think I have clearly made a terrible mess of my life (I do live in a tent, after all) and I must be hiding in the African bush working up the courage to enter ‘real’ life again; as did one pitying lady who asked me in a whisper over dinner, “how long do you have to do this job for, dear?”. This blog is an attempt to put the record straight.
About Me
My husband, D, and I emigrated to Kenya from England a decade ago. I’m still not entirely sure how; a few months after getting married, we went to our local pub where I drank too much wine and said to D, “All I want is a life less ordinary,” which he misheard as, “Let’s finish these drinks, sell the house and move to Kenya.”
Six months later we were renting a small house in Mombasa. A series of fortunate events led us to where we are today.
About The Camp
The camp is a luxury safari camp with six tents for 12 guests in a private wildlife conservancy. As well as me and D, the camp is staffed by 30 Kenyan men, mostly Maasai with a mix of other tribes.
We’re surrounded by 33,000km2 of protected game reserves, including the Masai Mara, Kenya and the Serengeti, Tanzania.
We’re 300 kilometres from Nairobi; 5 hours from the nearest newspaper and, despite what our guests think, not terribly close to a gluten-free pasta shop.
The events described within this blog are as misremembered by me. Certain characters have fictitious names and identifying characteristics.
Happened across you via babbitman. Are you by any chance related to the Parkington-Smythes? I seem to recall they had the misfortune to have to live in Africa. Perhaps you are that very same couple? If so, do tell Dolly that we missed her at Henley this year!
Oh good grief, *playwright… no wonder everyone thinks I’m dimwitted…
Oh my good god. Just clicked on you to see who the hell was following my blog and, instead of doing actual paid work on my company laptop, spent the best part of an hour reading all of your brilliant insights into putting up with some of the most grotesque creatures ever to haul their over-privileged arses out of Europe and America.
Bravo. Keep it up. I may re-blog you to spread the word. You’re ace.
🙂
Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I now have the emotional strength to dress for dinner (put jeans on) and exchange words with the guest who spent twenty minutes last night explaining to me who Shakespeare was. He’s a playright, apparently.
Ah. I think I know him. He was Warwickshire lad, like me. I’m surprised anyone outside of my county has heard of him…
heya thanks for dropping by today. because our following is largely made up of our mothers and a couple of friends that feel sorry for us, we like to check out anyone that stops by. we have just spent the last twenty minutes laughing hysterically at your posts, as well as admiring your very succint writing… what a great blog. subscribing!
Well, you’ve just made my day, thank you. Your blog is so well written and beautiful that I couldn’t pass it by, even tho’ my days are more dominated by buffalo shit than buffalo mozzarella. Best of luck with your blog, thanks again for your words!