The red dirt track. Third and last part.
Diani, Saturday, December 18, 2010. Water Lovers Beach Resort. At 5.30 am, still dark, half-hour canoe. The sea is barely wrinkled, black as oil with the reflections of the moon, three quarters of the moon shining. The lapping of oars is in addition to the constant roar of rushing and waves breaking over the reef, it is windy and cloudy. Canoeing in the dark is as mysterious and dark corridors to slip until stands imperious sunlight near the equator that comes in moments. From orange to pink to red, to blinding white, steps are quick, no waiting: the sudden dawn equator.
At 9.00 we leave. The cross-Shimba Hills is soft sand with no rain, red, silent, deserted.
the entrance of the park is Aisha, and when I say, "Good morning, anybody here? "her from her home, away from the office, you place the hair, puts on something, he adds," One moment, please ", jacket military camouflage vest on very disheveled, dry as a nail. While I'm leaving reminds me and gives me his cell number, "so many times you lost, but there is not always camp in the park." "So what?" I say.
I take the road of red sand, narrow, surrounded by a dense thicket of brambles and sharp pungent, quiet ride at 20 miles an hour.
thought I had the day before the holiday, maybe I'd dreamed about at night or unconsciously perceived, what would I do if I met un elefante sulla pista? Spegnerei il motore per non innervosirlo o lo lascerei acceso pronto per una fuga; ma verso dove?
Ed ecco che cosa succede due chilometri dopo aver salutato Aisha: sto percorrendo una curva quando sono costretto ad una improvvisa frenata che, visto quello che mi compare davanti, vorrei invece assai più silenziosa, morbida e invisibile.
In realtà ho alzato una nuvola di polvere rossa. Davanti a noi un giovane maschio di elefante, belle zanne bianche, occupa l’intera pista. Non si può passare. L’emozione ci fa parlare ancora più piano del necessario. Ho la videocamera accanto e filmo per qualche secondo, spengo l’aria condizionata, abbasso i finestrini, sento il suo rumore, sta mangiando. Non spengo il motore. Mia figlia si fa avanti dal sedile di dietro per osservare meglio: siamo tutti e tre come ipnotizzati. Mi chiedo se ci sta annusando o no. Se lo sta facendo può sentire invaso il suo spazio ed essere molto pericoloso. Apre e agita le orecchie in modo nervoso, ci guarda, faccio 3 o 4 metri a marcia indietro, poi altri 5 o 6, col minimo di rumore, la pista è strettissima e sconnessa.
L’elefante si è accorto di noi, ci fissa, sembra nervoso, accenna con le orecchie aperte a caricarci, inizia per 4 o 5 metri una corsa contro di noi: l’adrenalina sale a livelli inimmaginabili e rischia di diventare paura. Con gli occhi sgranati guardiamo ogni minimo movimento dell’elefante: stops, still eat the leaves on the edge of the runway. I look in the mirror because I am convinced not only that he be present with their parents. The elephant walks toward us again, plug the back ready to retreat back down, I stop, the hand on the exchange because he stops, still eat in the countryside, moves in the bushes, then makes a few yards into the thicket . Wait a few seconds that seem an eternal time, I will not be hasty, I know that he will file past the most dangerous moment, but I do not even delay the start because it could get back on the road, even with the herd. I do not see more than the first graft and silently, then the second extension and a few meters from him. But I have to rifermare immediately. In front of us and placed in the middle of the track, there is a splendid example of adult female, large and intact teeth, stares at us, shakes her trunk, ears flapping, blowing loudly, looking at us again. Time stands still for a while ', the silence is heavy. Suddenly, the mother follows her son for a few yards and just before we go on think again. Not meet the male.
The track continues with beautiful tall trees with white bark, the bottom is rough and sometimes heavy, sometimes soft and fleshy with fine sand and light.
Simba The Rainforest Lodge is made of wood, there is a brick. E ' surrounded by one of the last rainforests of East Africa and is reflected, covered with thick vines and flowering trees on a small pond covered with water lilies.
After lunch, at 14.00, go to the office of the Park to ask for an armed ranger with him and try to reach the Shreddick Falls. The thermometer of the machine gives me 38 degrees. The military guard tells me that the ranger went to Mombasa, sees to find another. It makes a round of phone calls and a few minutes later Lyn, the Kenya Wildlife Service ranger.
It 's a pretty young woman from the face nice and round, long braids and treated, the athletic aspect, green military suit and leather boots black. E 'armed with G3 rifles, caliber 7.62. In the car with us, sits next to me. After half an hour of fast track and dusty stop the car and begin the short trek. It's hot, the sun is scorching. We descend a steep and without vegetation. The sweeping views of the mountains and surrounding hills. We enter a clearing more humid and green and then, after a bridge of wooden beams, we start the journey in the bush. From this moment we are in absolute silence. The first is Lyn, following our daughter, then my wife, I close the row. Lyn goes very slowly and throws the watchful eyes in the bush. Do this for a while ', very slow, then we stopped before a small valley where there are trees.
spotted a group of elephants. They are scattered and not very close together. It 's the same situation this morning with the difference that we are now on foot. Lyn tells us that he will use his gun, shoot the treetops in the west to move the herd. Removes the safety to the G3, aim and shoot. The elephants do not move, then go east into a forest, mixed savanna. We pass in silence, from moving the branches of the trees we sense the location of the herd. The path descends again and the vegetation becomes thick and luxuriant. Waterfalls emerge from a wall of vertical rock, the waters are pristine, the bath under running water cool and pleasant. Lyn puts us quickly. It tells us that on the evening fall groups number of elephants, go it gets complicated. Before the valley without vegetation, the situation is critical. Lyn shot several times and we all hide behind the tall grass to see the passage of the elephants. Finally, still in silence, let the section of the bush and we are on the wooden bridge. The last climb before returning to the car and do a last round as the sun begins to rest on the horizon. We stopped often to see giraffes, warthogs, sable antilopes beautiful, buffalo, large groups of baboons. The night passes in the lodge with bush babies that go on the balcony of the room with noisy groups of colobus. A large group of elephants the night to stop watering.
Il mattino seguente all’alba riprendiamo la pista rossa che va a Kinango, sono 82 chilometri e due ore, se tutto va bene, che ci dovrebbero riportare a Samburu sulla Mombasa-Nairobi. Nessuno sulla strada, baobab imponenti e maestosi, villaggi brulicanti di vita rurale. Nessun turista viene da queste parti. La pista è a tratti dura, spezzata, pietrosa, ostile. In ogni villaggio chiediamo indicazioni sulla strada che si perde facilmente, ma non sbagliamo mai, le informazioni prese la sera prima da un vecchio ranger sono valide. Sono regioni a maggioranza mussulmana, ma le donne vestono di lilla, arancione e rosso. Il nero è inesistente. La gente è meravigliosa, gentile. Nessuna macchina, qualche camion, qualche moto, diverse biciclette. Stranieri zero. Nostra figlia parla a lungo delle esperienze vissute. Per lei è come aver letto in un solo giorno tre libri di storia, religione, scienze e geografia. Un mondo sconosciuto. Arriviamo a Samburu in due ore dopo aver evitato, sulla pista, zebre, cammelli, capre e asini.
Con altre 7 ore siamo a Nairobi.
