They rattle along in
the dry, dusty countryside, past baked mud houses in waterless
fields. When the sun is “too hands above the horizon” the team
sneak off the road to find a place to camp for the night. Sneaking
is hard to do in a 3 ton Land Rover, but Precious is practiced and
keeps her head low. Tonic does some skilful driving, weaving around
bushes and dodging tree stumps. Once they get a fair distance from
the road, they set up camp in a suitable spot.
They have large
bottles of tonic, so Djin shares out the last few fingersof the gin and they
toast the setting sun. After cold leftovers, Djin and Tonic retire
to their tents. Peggy keeps watch. They team rise with the sun and
do a spot of birding over mugs of freshly brewed coffee. Djin spikes
hers with the last of her gifted whiskey.
All too soon, the time comes to
move on and they set off back to the road. But alas, where is it?
It can't be far. Perhaps if they follow this track it'll lead there.
Shortly, they meet 2 elderly Burkinabé
men on bicycles coming towards them. Tonic gets out to ask
directions. The locals are polite, but their mirth shows through
their gap-toothed smiles. They must turn around and follow the
track. The town isn't far. Djin offers them he 2 empty liquor
bottles. They nod in an understanding kind of way and strap them on
their bikes, alongside their hoes.
Shortly, a Land Rover, 2 white
women and a pink-tongued dog inside can be seen following a couple of bicycles
along a track through the African bushveld. It's not long and the
track joins the road to town. Djin and Tonic call out their thanks
and wave goodbye. Peggy barks out a warning.
One can only imagine
the talk around the fire that night. “Les blanches! OOh la la. Elles sont
absolutment fou!”
