I first read these magical words as a boy, devouring books on Africa and falling in love with the notion of seeing something new and exciting every day, and of course, reading Isak Dinesen’s famous book.
I assembled books almost as my guides to a new life on the continent where I was born, but knew so little about. From Douglas Hamilton to Schaller, Khaled Hosseini, Matthiessen and Markham. And I keep rereading them.
Thanks to them, I have come to understand what Africa meant to them. I soon realised that I needed to understand what it meant to me.
A friend who appeared in the film from one of these books, maybe the most famous of all, sat with us, his wife, Bylle, and our friends, Pat and Scott, under a tree not far from Zarafa once. Bob soon got impatient and asked just how long we were going to sit there watching what appeared to be a sleeping leopard.
It was under a sausage tree, in flowering season: September.
The leopard wasn’t there by chance.
I said to Bob, “It will take as long as it takes,” and settled back to rest for a long time.
She was there in ambush, and it soon paid off. Well, it paid off nearly four hours later when she leapt down and made a kill right next to us.
He later said of this, at Sundance, that he learned patience that day. What we learned that day was that our version of Africa was different. It is about friendships, like these, around sharing this moment. That too is the unique gift of ‘safari,’ or any journey; the sharing and bonding that takes place around a tree, or a fire.
Many people around the world know a lot about Africa. About its wildlife and vast landscapes, much like you will see in this week’s wildlife moments, taken by our guides and guests. But perhaps it was THAT single, blockbuster film that brought in a new era and kick-started the safari industry, opening the romance, the opportunity and hunger to visit.
It is, of course, just one version of Africa, which is a kaleidoscope of different lenses through which we know it presents itself, from its people’s culture to the large tuskers.
But the story spoke of love and warmth and a uniqueness of friendships born here, as if forged in the fires of the volcano Kilimanjaro that Hemingway’s Green Hills speaks of. He himself said that he ‘Never knew of a morning in Africa when I woke up that I was not happy.’ I feel the same.
Some things are new each day, such as scenes of leopards and porcupines, or lions sleeping on the Duba Plains bridge, while others remain old, like memories of friends we knew. We see and feel both of those every day at Great Plains – the newness and nearness.
We will miss you, dear friend. Your story. While touching so many people from the hills of Utah to the screens around the world, it is also woven into the narrative of Africa.
‘Out of Africa Always Something New’… Ex Africa semper aliquid novi
