Less is More |
The most luxurious place I have slept in recently had ants on the pillow and a frog in the loo. A live frog.
But how can you fault a grass hut when it comes with flawless personal service, exquisite meals and hot showers?
All the better that we were an hour's off-road drive plus another hour's flight by four-seater plane from
anywhere with a hint of tarmac or electricity.
Kutandala
Camp in Zambia offers the ultimate in getaway experiences and it is this remoteness that an elite but growing
band of travellers are searching out for their holidays. More than ever these days we need our holidays to
de-stress us, revitalise us and take us away - physically and mentally - from every niggle and worry of everyday
life. African safaris have long been an escape trip for stressed executives. But the sheer popularity of the
old favourite hotspots in countries like Kenya, the rush-hour crowds of vans at every lion kill and the worry
of rip-off guides - and worse - are driving us would-be Attenboroughs to ever more remote places. However
we still want our flush loos, hot showers and chilled drinks, thank you very much.
Kutandala Camp has it all. It's in a stunning position on the south bank of the Mwaleshi River, in Zambia's
unpopulated and rarely visited North Luangwa National Park. It has just three simple guest rooms, built from
dried grass and poles, with mud floors. Rod Tether and his cookery star fiancée Maelisa (Guz) Thieme
own and run the camp. From a kitchen open to the African skies, Guz serves up sumptuous, elegant meals with
fresh bread and salads and perfect coffee. The breakfast-room is a table on the river bank. The dining-room
is the shade under a mahogany tree.
And that's the luxury of it. Serene simplicity.
Zambia is Africa's best-kept secret. Its few remote but luxury camps are attracting high-flyers who are happy
to pay Ritz prices to experience the wonder of being away from all the man-made trappings that normally surround
us. On walking safaris in the bush you truly get up close and personal with animal life. Walking groups are
small and always led by a trained naturalist: Zambia has some of the best guides working in Africa. There
will also be an armed Park Ranger walking with you, and often one of the camp staff carrying the wherewithal
for a tea and cake break. It's not just about spotting animals. You learn to identify what's around from paw
marks and droppings. You get to study insects, snakes and seed pods, and learn the different animal alarm
cries. If baboons are barking and impala are snorting, is it lions or a leopard on the prowl?
Out in the remote bush, you need never worry about things like your passport being safe or bar staff ripping
you off. Instead, you rejoice in tingles of fear that come from being in territory where the animals - not
we humans - call the shots. Often a planned route has to be changed because a dozen buffalo are in the way.
Or, just as you find a spot for a mid-morning tea break, a mother elephant and her calf want it and you have
to pack up quickly and quietly and move on. When you do settle for a sit and a sip, it's like being in a zoo.
Only, we are the animals being watched. It's the giraffes, elephants and baboons doing the watching.
You'd
think that with nothing to do except follow the guide, walk and observe, it would be easy to shed city worries
and deeply relax. Yet not all executives find relaxation comes easily. The guides tell tales of CEO control
freaks who hate not being able to call the shots. There's no way they can order an angry elephant or a frightened
python to do their bidding. It's also not easy for some, used to handling budgets of millions and a staff
of thousands, to put their very survival in the hands of a 25-year-old naturalist. Disobey the guide's order
to freeze and stay silent because an elephant is sounding you out, and you may not make it back to the next
gin and tonic.
It's also possible for guests who swap the jungle of business life for nights under a mosquito net, without
a mobile or a laptop, to find themselves re-appraising their values and priorities. One man concluded that
there must be more to life than share-trading: he flew home, resigned his job and took up a new life working
in conservation. Another high-flying city type needs and loves the solitude so much that he books all three
rooms at Kutandala, so that he can have the place to himself.
Some powerful businessmen (and on this one, it's always the men) can find it hard facing up to their own inadequacies.
It's one thing to be a powerful fat cat with loads of financial clout, but how well do these skills compare
with those of the guides they meet? Not only can these guys tell one bird call from another, spot a leopard
at 500 paces and discuss the life-cycle of a dung beetle (with Latin names if you please), they can also mend
an engine, strap up a fracture and, if needs be, shoot an angry lion before it kills them. |
| Alison Rice - DC (Docklands and City) Magazine - March 2002 |
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