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Wednesday, 1 June 2005

I'd Like The Orange One Please

The Husband and I celebrated four years of drunken oblivion wedded bliss at the weekend. We went to A Lodge, in Some Part of Zambia. It was a nice enough lodge, by a body of water, if a little odd.

It's not advertised anywhere, and there were only 4 other guests. It is way way way deep in the bush, with no phone, email or any other visible means of communication with the outside world. There is however a private airstrip, where small planes landed in the middle of the night and had disappeared again before daybreak.

The lodge also happens to be situated on a game farm. Now, what The Husband and I find puzzling, is how on earth does anyone get the money to buy a massive property (even in Zambia), and game, and not appear to work, and have no real interest in drumming up paying guests? Game must surely be expensive. It's hardly a hobby, is it? And you have to feed them a lot (apparently – so said the pale chap who was getting up at 4am to do so).

Unfortunately Google was not much help in telling me how I go about purchasing a giraffe for example, although one site did state an estimate of USD$1600 per beast, which I think is a little on the low side. Anyways, how are these people running this place? Drug smuggling? Money Laundering? Sale of human body parts? You've got to wonder.

"Has the plane been to pick up those sacks of heroin which are disguised as maize meal darling?" said Jan Van Vinder Vong as he idly flicked through the latest edition of the Wild Animals 'R' Us catalogue.
"Not yet Janni. But we have a case of fresh kidneys which is due for collection at midnight," said Marianna Van Vinder Vong.
"Excellent!" huffed Jan Van Vinder Vong, "in that case I shall send a note by carrier pigeon that we'd like a couple more Zebra."