I dream of Africa. It's one of those things, I thought I had enough of until I was out. Now graceful antelopes don't bark a warning call into the darkness, night walks don't sparkle from the trees with ruby eyes, and a new and amazing creature is unlikely to reveal itself as we turn the corner. I miss it, and though Baluran National Park was not exactly Africa, its savanna-like scenery and abundance of wildlife was good enough for me to cock the old rifle and set up camp in a hide.
At dawn, our encampment was invaded by an army of macaques. They were after our food though the little we had was well hidden. The day before, these naughty monkeys chewed my backpack as we snorkeled off the beach, so the men stood guard while I fired even rounds at wild green peacocks and the occasional baby macaque who seemed just too cute to be a cookie thief.