The sky was aglow with stars, untainted by any light pollution. I ventured away from the flimsy canvas tents, noticing that the island was shrouded in a suffocating sheet of darkness.
At the back of my mind I heard a doubt. Something telling me that I should have just stopped near to the tents to find a suitable toilet spot. But stupidity kept me going on into the endless night.
Suddenly there was a terrific roar, louder than anything I had ever heard before. My stomach jolted in horror. Bleary-eyed, I only then noticed a mass of grey in front of me, the outline of a large hippo only a few metres ahead.
There was no time to think as its huge bulk began to surge towards me.
It was not exactly how I’d imagined my first time in Africa. More so, it was not exactly how I’d imagined my first proper trip away from my family. They’d trusted me to fly half way across the world to have the adventure of a lifetime and instead here I was, faced with the prospect of death for the second time in only three days.
This is the gripping story of my first time in Africa, embarking on a canoeing adventure down the Zambezi river, told in the form of diary entries.
Zambezi River Diary Entries
Read my diary entries below: