All posts filed under: Travel

Where Angels Fear to Tread

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Read the article on Royal Chundu’s blog here. “Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.” ― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore I had to see what lay at the edge of the Victoria Falls, from the view of the Angel. I had visited with the Devil before, taken up his challenge and swum to the outer limits. I had felt fear, but more importantly a deep desire to trust. To believe the guides when they told me that I would be ok. The water would not take me with it as it cascaded over the edge, into the fiery gorge below. This time the same desire arose, as my guide’s hand led me along a plank (*pushes pirate ship references out of mind*) along the rocks of this shallow section of the Zambezi River, on Livingstone Island, into what is known as Angel’s Pool, a few …

Nightswimming With Elephants

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As published on Royal Chundu’s Blog. “I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.” – Vincent Van Gogh The starry night without doubt transfixed the painter who once uttered the words above, and it captivates us no less. But even more enthralling, we think, is that time before the sun goes down. The truly alive, truly colourful time called dusk. On the open Zambezi, dusk presents itself each night in the most beautiful of sunsets. Sunsets we never tire from photographing in their unique nightly manifestations. It is during this cooler time of day that you can sometimes glimpse the odd herd of elephant down at the riverbank, engaged in a spot of skinny-dipping. They might have hoped that the dim light would shield them from us, but our camera lenses pulled it off and captured the nightswimmers in action from the sturdiness of our sunset cruise boat. Before the sky completely turned from purple to black and left us with nothing but the moon to guide us home, we snapped these images …

The Real Mystery of Wildlife Photography

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Published here – Relais & Châteaux Africa Wildlife photographers are the impalas of the human world. They are everywhere. As you leave the airport, en route to the safari lodge, on the lawn at lunch, under the trees and across the plains on just about every game drive. Yes, many of these photographers are truly talented individuals with an impeccable eye, superb mastery of the machine, and, well, really good cameras. Many of us are guilty of using these connoisseurs of the camera as an excuse to not try our own hand at the art. If someone else can do it better, why bother? Perhaps you’ve never thought this. Perhaps you just don’t see the attraction of photographing wildlife. But like other art forms, photography is about so much more than the product. The whole process awakens us to the little wonders and idiosyncrasies of life – its quirks that often go amiss otherwise … Like the tight scrunch of a leopard’s nose. The twitch of a lion’s whiskers. The endless fly-eyes of the impala. The knees – or are they elbows – of the …

Paying It Forward on the Zambezi

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“You don’t make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.” ― Ansel Adams I had heard about Charlton long before I met him. I had seen the photographs of him, Royal Chundu’s handyman, out in the field, photographing the faces of the Zambezi. I knew the story behind it all. A guest staying at Royal Chundu, a man working at Canon Inc., had noticed Charlton’s enthusiasm for photography and organised Canon sponsorship for him, donating a camera and on-site training to the budding Ansel Adams. Charlton, who grew up in the city of Livingstone, Zambia, has been working as a handyman at Royal Chundu since the lodge opened. It is his home. When I finally met him, I was a little taken aback. The thing about photography is that it is like a growing child. It needs constant attention and food, and quickly outgrows its clothes and toys. We met up for a morning stroll through the village around Royal Chundu, stopping …

Midnight in Johannesburg

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Full article here. “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” ― Ernest Hemingway In the rush of wild mushroom fricassée, espresso martinis and winter moonlight, each second feels like a feast. A Moveable Feast. Champagne and cigars, a fire sizzling in the bar. I have to pace myself, remind myself of the limits. Is there ever any middle ground in a feast? It is midnight in Johannesburg, at AtholPlace Hotel & Villa, in the eddy of the City of Gold, a retreat that merges the higher and lower frequencies of the city, leaving it up to you which to choose. The initial frenzy settles as morning comes, as the hadeda take to breakfast on the lawn and the sun shimmers through the oak trees. Morning is part of life’s natural feedback system to keep you from the edge. Slowly faces start to stand out, you learn everyone’s names and histories and love affairs and it becomes less like …

The Season of the Whale

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Read the full article here. The truth about whalesong is like much in life. Elusive, if not wholly unknown. We can philosophise and theorise but the truth about the enigmatic voices of whales and dolphins evades us. Nobody knows its true purpose or meaning. As the BBC documentary below states, “Scientists may one day find out the whole truth behind these extraordinary voices of the sea, but for now the private life of these ocean giants remains wondrously mysterious.” All we can do is look on, watch these creatures on their cross-oceanic journeys, from land, water or air. We can deduce a little more from their body language, their lobtailing and spyhopping and breaching. But between the fact and fiction of their wonder, all we have to do is be amazed by the simple joy of something we cannot fully grasp.   In African waters, you can glimpse whales on the east and south-east coast of South Africa on their own version of the Great Migration. On the east, they often flock to the Sardine Run, from May through to July, as captured on film …

The House of Health

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Health is one of the stealthiest of animals to pin down, a state of being we spend our lives seeking to acquire or hold onto. Some believe that the mind is the answer to all health, that, like time, it can heal all. But there are occasions when our bodies, as external entities, require something that the mind cannot provide. Since the Roman era, men – yes, even the manliest of men, legionnaires and the like – have visited spas. ‘Sanus per Aquam’, health by or through water, or SPA – a word that is believed to originate from the hot, natural springs that fatigued troopers sought out for rejuvenation, relaxation and to treat their sore wounds and tired muscles. As much as the meaning of the word “Health” may fluctuate with changing fads, the word “Spa” remains reliable. It is a place to heal, even when you don’t realise you are in need of healing. The masseuse manages to uncover the aches you’ve ignored and bitten your tongue through, the subtle tension you’ve hidden from the world in the muscles in your back, …