Products

I announced in my last post that I plan to return to South Africa where I believe I am meant to be and where I think I can be my best true self. Meanwhile, here in America, I am working on other aspects of my self improvement.

As I wait in the USA for approval from the South African government to live out my dream I am keeping myself busy with other critical and life affirming work...buying a multitude of beauty products online. It seems crazy things can happen when I have a little too much time on my hands. 

I have already admitted my vanity in past posts. A main area of focus continues to be my obsession with my skin which recently someone described as "ruddy" (not a compliment by the way) and which tells me I still have work to do. Many of my online purchases are part of my continued effort for a flawless glowing face with a new goal to be rud-less.

As you savvy online shoppers know, once you click on an ad for a product on Facebook, or buy a product online on Amazon or any website, the floodgates open and (in my case) suggestions for facial creams, serums and magical elixirs that I can't live without come pouring in.

Intrigued, I recently clicked on an ad for a product called Crepe Erase. Really, the name says it all. I dare any of you 40 plus year old women who are shallow like me not to admit to having some area of skin crepe that you'd like to see erased immediately. I didn't end up purchasing any because all of the reviews said the product didn't work at all...but Dorothy Hamill and Jane Seymour are featured in the ads and they both look great. Especially Dorothy....I didn't see one speck of crepe on her and she's a lot older than I am.

Instead, I bought this eye gel by Baebody which got good reviews.  In addition to some crepe, I have really fat upper eyelids...so much so that botox injecting doctors on two different continents have commented on it....as if perhaps my eyes were so puffy that I ironically could not see out of them and view my own puffy eyes when looking in the mirror. This gel is supposed to reduce puffiness so we will see if it works.

Not one to miss out on any latest craze, I also purchased rosehip oil which if you don't know is the coconut oil of 2018. Apparently there is not a skin problem that rosehip oil can't solve. Ever since my bottle arrived I have been slathering it on my face religiously and I do like it. It seems to absorb well and hasn't caused any breakouts. 

Another product I recently bought not online but in store are these Trish McEvoy exfoliating pads because everyone knows you can't liberally coat your face with rosehip oil and not properly exfoliate. I bought these when I was having my make up done for a party because the make up artist told me that "as soon as she used one on my face" it began to glow. Glow is my magic word...say glow and my credit card automatically comes out of my wallet.

And then there is the Aztec Secret Indian Clay Mask. You may think the Aztecs were best known for creating a calendar, building pyramids and developing farming techniques. While all true, they also found a clay that miraculously does the equivalent of "vacuuming out your pores" is referred to as the "world's most powerful facial" and has "practically formed it's own cult." I certainly wanted in on this ancient Aztec secret and so I bought this stuff also. You mix the clay with apple cider vinegar (another magical potion these days in America) and apply to your face, it stings a bit because...vinegar and then dries and gets very tight. I've only used it once but I can't imagine that weekly use of this product plus daily use of the exfoliating pads and a nice layer of rosehip oil is not going to be the ideal skin perfection cocktail.

I also purchased a new mascara which is supposed to arrive sometime today...by the way don't you love how you can get a text SMS when your product is almost to you and also once it's delivered...America has this online shopping stuff down! I heard someone in the nail salon talking about this mascara one day. It's called Better Than Sex.

It's here! 

Finally, everyone knows that if your skin glows and your eyes pop a bit due to being less puffy and wearing the world's best mascara, but your teeth are yellow then you may as well throw in the proverbial face towel so to that end I also bought charcoal powder which I am now using intermittently when I brush my teeth. No, I am no longer pulling with coconut oil because it's a pain and kind of gross to swish oil around in your mouth for 20 minutes. Not that having your mouth (and entire bathroom if you're not careful) turn black from charcoal powder is not a bit unsettling. I was going to post a pic of me with a black mouth...but I just can't.

The Week That Was

This week, I went to see a dermatologist. Going to the dermatologist should be unremarkable and not worthy of a blog post. Should be. 

I visited the doctor because I have a lot of freckles and moles and I thought it was time for a full body inspection to check for irregularities. I also went because I am not happy with my face, specifically the skin on my face. This is a little game I play with myself and the medical profession. If I go to the doctor for something medically important I also reward myself with something quasi medical and less important. So in this case it was go to the doctor to have my moles checked and walk away with a miracle cream or pill that will make my face radiant.  

The appointment began normally enough with me filling out forms and being called in to see the doctor but from there it degenerated into the strangest, longest and least helpful medical experience I've ever had.

The doctor began by asking me where my family was from, not as in America, but before that. I said Eastern Europe and when she asked specifically where, I said Russia...which I then realized isn't Eastern Europe so I felt like an idiot. In fairness to me I wasn't expecting a geography quiz. Mr. Deep, upon his review of this post, informed me that part of Russia, the part west of the Ural Mountain range, is in Eastern Europe, so that's good. I hope the doctor is aware of this. She asked if Russian was the same as Celtic, which should have been my first clue that something wasn't right. She said she had just come back from a conference where she learned that gene therapy is the next big thing and that it's important for me to know where my family is from. Keep in mind she hadn't yet examined me or determined that anything was wrong with me that would require gene therapy so this discussion may have been premature. Also, if medicine is advanced enough and doctors can treat your illness by addressing at the gene level, can't they also "map" your genes? Does knowing what former Soviet town some of your family is from really matter in this case? 

She took me into the exam room. While we were waiting for my gown to warm (it's winter now remember) she said she'd start by examining my face which as I've already explained was my top priority as well. Unfortunately, she couldn't get the giant lighted magnifying glass to turn on. After five minutes she eventually gave up on the light and had me put the gown on. Once the gown was on instead of examining my body, she instructed me to return with her to her office. Fortunately I was still wearing my pants and my bra (and the gown) so I wasn't returning to her office completely naked. Back in her office she used some giant gun like camera to closely examine a spot on my face. She called her assistant in to help her load a close up photo of this spot onto the computer and then they both tried to figure out how to use some software to determine what the mystery spot was. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to know how to use the software and it took quite some time for them to come up with a diagnosis. It was finally determined to be dermal melanin. I don't have any medical training but I'm pretty sure dermal melanin and a freckle are the same thing. However, the doctor didn't seem sure and she removed a book from her shelf...A BOOK FROM HER SHELF! I suppose the reason for the book was to look up dermal melanin but she got sidetracked telling me about pills that contain Amazon tree bark extract that I should be taking to help protect my skin from the sun and she never actually opened the book. She left the room to get the pills to show them to me, not a new bottle because the pills were out of stock, but her own personal bottle. 

Meanwhile, I'm starting to feel nervous that this appointment is taking a very long time and I'm thinking that if we have to spend five minutes on every mole and freckle that I'm going to be there for two weeks. I decided that if she attempted to examine my body that I'd tell her I was out of time. But she never got back to my body...even though I was still wearing the gown.

Remember I'm vain, so I was still holding on to hope that she'd prescribe me some great serum for my face and I decided to stick it out and try to turn the conversation back to my face. Big mistake. 

She looked at my face and stopped just short of declaring it the biggest mess she's ever seen. She asked if I had allergies. Even though I said no she prescribed some kind of blood test to check. She then asked about my skincare routine but as I tried to explain it, she kept interrupting me to advise me that everything I was doing was wrong. She took some lotion and demonstrated how to apply products to the face. She said you press instead of rub. OK press instead of rub could be valid but she also told me that I should only be washing my face with water. I asked how I would remove make up using only water and she said I should use a face cloth, but hadn't she just said no rubbing? The whole conversation was making no sense. When I said that I sometimes use an RA cream, she asked me "what is RA cream?" At that point, I knew for certain that she had absolutely no grasp on reality and that I had to get out of there. What dermatologist doesn't know what RA cream is? She continued telling me all of the things that might be causing my problem face including saying that I had a bad habit of putting my fingers into my mouth. Only I don't think I do have this habit as I no longer bite my nails. She told me I might have streptococcus.   

The real kicker came when she asked me about my mattress and how old it is. I replied that we'd purchased it in 2013. She asked me if I vacuum the mattress. I should have lied and said that I do, because she then told me that she could see DUST MITE BITES ON MY FACE. Honestly, I have never in my life been told something so horrifying. Can you imagine? I couldn't escape this woman's office fast enough. It was all I could do not to go directly to a shop to buy a new mattress and then firebomb my entire house. Even though this doctor was clearly a bit off could I really take a chance on being eaten alive? I pulled myself together though and didn't buy a new mattress or a new bed or have my house fumigated and here's why.

Two days before this medical madness Gift, his sister and his brother came over for dinner. During the course of the evening I became aware that Gift's brother, Wiseman is his name, doesn't own a bed or a mattress. He sleeps on the floor of a shack where he has been living for the past few months. If the shack has a floor. I couldn't bring myself to ask if there is a real floor or a dirt floor. He also doesn't have electricity in the shack. Since then, I have been obsessed with the thought of Wiseman sleeping on the floor of a cold, dark shack.  At night when I am in my recently declared imperfect but still functional bed I am thinking of him and feeling concerned. And no, Wiseman is not an ex-con or a recovering drug addict trying to get back on his feet, he's just poor and he can't afford a mattress or a bed with the money that he earns from his job. It's that simple. 

I decided I am not going to let this doctor lead me down a path of craziness. Even if it's true that sunscreen is rendered ineffective if there is orange fragrance in it, I don't have time for this insanity. I don't need the pills the from the Amazon, I don't have streptococcus, I'm not going to get a full blood test and I certainly don't have mite bites on my face. Dust mites don't even bite. I looked it up. I will not become any more self-involved than I already am and will not start creating personal medical problems where there aren't any. Instead, I will find a bed for Wiseman and even if the bed is used, I think he will be really happy to receive it. Dust mites and all. 

Too Much Time on My Hands

"I've got too much time on my hands, it's hard to believe such a calamity"

-Styx, 1981

Joburg shuts down during the holiday season which means that lately I have not been busy with my usual activities like school, lamps and social groups. While I don't feel bored I guess I needed a project because I threw myself, with unparalleled enthusiasm, into helping with the planning and execution of my friend's 80's themed party. 

My friend Meghan and her husband love to throw parties and they are great at entertaining. When she mentioned she wanted to have an 80's party to celebrate their one year anniversary of arriving in Joburg, I was all in favor. I love the 80's, the music, the clothing and the memories. The only thing I don't love about the 80's are music videos because I've never seen any. When I was growing up we lived in the middle of nowhere and we had no (gasp) cable TV and therefore no MTV. Mr. Deep finds this hilarious.

Me in 1988. I'm just holding that beer for a friend.

I volunteered to help Meghan with the food and in the days leading up to the party I made sloppy joe meat which is minced beef with the perfect balance of sweet, salty and spicy flavors.I also made Jello jigglers which if you don't know is jello cut into shapes with a cookie cutter. I made mine with vodka. It wasn't as easy as it sounds because jigglers are very fragile. I didn't want to take broken jigglers to the party so I ended up eating the broken ones myself. 

sloppy joe

jigglers

Meanwhile, Mr. Deep also became involved in the party planning. At first Meghan planned to hire a DJ but the guy never responded to her so Mr. Deep happily volunteered to organize the music. He developed a playlist of over 15 hours and strategically divided the tunes into three categories. 80's Party Mix, general songs to be played throughout the party, 80's Request Pot, extra songs that people might want to hear because if someone requested Fame by Irene Cara Mr. Deep didn't want that person to walk away disappointed. And the third, a self explanatory category called Let's Fucking Dance.  Mr. Deep took the project seriously asking for input from others and making notes of songs and artists to be included. Then, one night he suddenly seemed tired of the endeavor. This became clear when I casually asked him "do you have any Asia on your playlist?" to which he replied, "I'm done." Mr. Deep also took his look seriously. His outfit consisted of a pink Izod  (now called Lacoste) polo shirt and a pair of docksiders. 

Mr. Deep the prepster

My manic obsession kicked in just a few days before the party when I began giving serious thought to my outfit. Originally I had the idea that I would just dress the way I used to in the 80's. Forty eight hours before the party I realized that this plan was very boring. Why dress like a 17 year old from a small conservative town when you can drape yourself in all the glory of the excessive decade...and this is when my craziness began in earnest. 

It was then that I realized that there were literally one million directions I could go with my 80's look. For example: 
Jane Fonda workout  
Working woman with shoulder pads
Glamorous like on the TV show Dynasty
Prostitute like in the movies Trading Places and Risky Business 
Sweet and innocent like Brooke Shields (yes I know she did the racy Calvin Klein ad but for the most part she was sweet) of course I quickly ruled this one out for being too boring.
Androgynous woman  
Punk rocker 
A person from the 1980's who still dresses like it's the 70's

I was overwhelmed by the possibilities. 

The day before the party I was frantically trying on suits as I was considering going as a flight attendant from the 80's (or as we called them back then stewardesses) but I realized I would have to buy a wing shaped pin and I thought that might be hard to come by. But the real low came when I found myself wearing nothing but my shiny black plastic raincoat, sitting in front of Mr. Deep's computer googling 1980's Russian spy. And my gardener was at the house at the time! I obviously was not thinking clearly. Side note the day of the party it poured all day and night so a raincoat would have been a perfect costume.  

I headed to the mall and luckily 80's and 90's style clothing is back in stores full force so it wasn't hard to find an outfit quickly and painlessly. I ended up wearing acid washed tight jeans, silver pumps, a black top with lace, huge hair and loud make-up. I dressed like a rock band groupie following Motley Crue during their 1987 Girls Girls Girls tour.  

Although my hairstyle did not come out perfectly as my hair is not cut in as many layers as it was back in the day, as I styled it the whole era came rushing back to me. I used to think that I spent hours getting ready to go out in the 80's because I was in high school and that's what high school girls do. In actuality, it took forever to get ready in the 80's and you were never really finished with your hair or makeup because there was no such thing as too much of either. Eventually, you just ran out of time and had to leave your bathroom. 

Big hair selfie

In case you are invited to an 80's party, here's a quick hair styling tutorial.

First, wash your hair.Then add a cantaloupe size puff of mousse. Scrunch the mousse into the roots. Feel free to add more mousse.  Next, hang your head upside down to blow dry. Don't worry if the dryer is too hot or on a high setting just blow the daylights out of your hair. Next, grab a curing iron. Put it on the highest heat setting available and begin to curl your hair. Once the hair is wrapped in the iron hold the iron an inch or so from your head for maximum volume. You can even spray your hair with hairspray while your hair is heating in the iron. As for the type of hairspray to use I suggest Aqua Net but any strong hold aerosol will do and don't buy anything natural or organic as you need full on chemicals. Continue to curl for at least 45 minutes. If you see a curl you don't like just redo it, it's not a big deal. Don't be alarmed if you see smoke or smell burning hair. This is completely normal. Once you are satisfied or have to leave for your party, whichever comes first, apply a thick coating of hair gel over each ear pushing the hair back. Don't worry if it feels wet. It will dry eventually. 

Love on the Rocks

A glorious view from our room at the Beverly Hills Hotel. 

Last weekend was a three day holiday weekend here in South Africa. The holiday is called Day of Reconciliation and it's purpose is to celebrate and promote racial harmony and unity. The holiday was first celebrated in 1995 after the end of apartheid. 

Mr. Deep and I took a trip to Kwa Zulu Natal one of the South African provinces. Affectionately called K Zed N, remember a Z is called a Zed here, Kwa Zulu Natal is in the south eastern part of the country and has a lovely, long coastline along the Indian Ocean.  Last year, we visited Durban in K Zed N, but it was winter and it was rainy and cold. This time, however the weather was perfect. 

We stayed in Umhlanga Rocks, located north of Durban at a fancy schmancy hotel called the Beverly Hills. 

My suggestion is that you run, not walk to the Beverly Hills Hotel. It is luxurious and every room faces the ocean. They give you champagne when you check in. They give you more champagne at breakfast. While you are laying in the sun a guy comes by and asks you if you want your sunglasses cleaned. Then later another guy comes by and asks if you if want a popsicle. If you want, you can also get a massage right there overlooking the beach. 

The rocks in Umhlanga Rocks

It looks like a face

Rock close up

I mentioned in this post that Mr. Deep and I only recently became aware that you can sit around on vacation and do absolutely nothing. Why it took us so long to learn that lesson I am not sure. But nothing is precisely what we did for three days. Because we didn't DO anything this blog post is not going to be chock full of content. But we got some great photos and I wanted to share them. You might notice that most of the pics appear to be taken from the same exact vantage point. That's because I rarely got up from my chair. And what I found out is that if you just sit in the same spot for a while interesting things will actually happen right in front of you. 

I mentioned we didn't move much right? 

A wedding took place out on the pier. Luckily, I had my zoom lens and could remain comfortably seated and still get some photos.

 

You can probably guess who took the next two photos. 

Eventually, we did get up an explore a bit. But don't worry we quickly returned to the comfort of our chairs. 

It was Mr. Deep's idea that we snap this pic because there were so many shades of blue.

The Mother of Invention

Charles and me

Yesterday, my flip flop broke. These things happen as anyone who has ever owned a pair of flip flops knows. When you think about it, flip flops are a ticking time bomb. It's not a matter of if they will break but more a question of when.

These flip flops were about three years old. They served a good purpose and I was not particularly upset that one broke because they had a good run, but I was inconvenienced.  At the time of the breakage I was in a parking lot. I had just finished chatting with my friend Charles (pronounced to rhyme with house) a car guard who works in the shopping centre across the street from where we live. I have known Charles since we moved here and I see him several times a week. I know all about his life and his family because of our many chats. I have given him some (nice) old clothes that belonged to Mr. Deep and I have also bought him some groceries a few times. I had just said goodbye to Charles and when I tried to walk away, the plastic piece between the toes broke. It didn't just come out of the hole, it actually broke in two. The flat, nail head like piece that sits under the hole in the bottom of the sole broke off the stalk like piece that goes between the toes. 

"My shoe just broke" I told Charles, mostly because I felt I had to explain why I was stumbling around.  I showed him the shoe and he kindly offered to try to fix it for me so I left the flip flops with him. Luckily, as I mentioned, I was at the shopping centre at the time and I walked (barefoot obviously) to a store that fortunately sold flip flops and I bought a new pair. 

Walking barefoot isn't so strange in South Africa but you don't often see adults doing it.  And, I had two reasons for being in the shopping centre. I was getting a manicure and then I needed to get a few things at the grocery store. I wouldn't have minded going to the nail salon without any shoes. I am in there often enough and I would have explained what happened and gotten a few laughs over it, but the grocery store could have been problematic. Not that there is a no shirt, no shoes, no service rule here, there isn't. But you generally don't see barefoot adults in the grocery store. Barefoot kids are seen all the time. 

When I got back to my car I saw Charles again and proudly showed him my new shoes. I was feeling pretty good that I was at a shopping centre at the time of the break, that in the shopping centre was a store that sold flip flops and that the store was open and had flip flops in my size.

And then Charles told me that he had fixed my shoe. He somehow found a piece of strong wire and threaded it through the plastic stalk. The wire, placed on the bottom of the shoe was now holding the plastic piece in place. "How did you do this?" I asked him, meaning, how did you happen to find a piece of strong wire in the parking lot? And, even if one was lucky enough to find wire, threading it through thick plastic must have been difficult. 

"I used my brain" he said. 

This incident, although kind of silly, perfectly communicates what it is that I love about living in South Africa. I love that I can walk barefoot if I have to and people just have to deal with it. I love that I have a friend who is so kind that he would want to try to fix my shoe for me. I love that he was actually able to fix it. But mostly I love being reminded how many people in this world live differently than we do. They can't (and won't) throw something away just because it is broken and damaged but instead they will try to fix it. 

I will continue to wear my newly repaired flip flops. Granted, I will only wear them around the house because they certainly will break again, but I will wear them until that time and when I wear them I will be reminded of Charles, his life, his brain, and his kindness. 

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Hit Me With Your Best Shot

For me living in South Africa is my big chance in life. It's my big chance to try new things and spend time doing activities that I enjoy. If I can think of something that I've always wanted to do or if I want to try something that I've never thought of doing before, now is the time. Throughout life we imagine hobbies or interests we'd like to pursue but we tell ourselves we don't have time and often we really don't. But I have time and now is my big chance. 

Maybe it's due to growing up in the era of Rocky Balboa or possibly I have pent up aggression but when I heard that a new boxing gym opened nearby I was intrigued and I wanted to try it. I should note that throughout my life I have often been intrigued and wanted to try things for what turned out to be the wrong reasons. I joined the band in high school because I thought it would be cool to march during football games and parades (by the way it's not cool at all it totally sucks.) I went to gymnastics camp because I wanted to join the gymnastics team so I could get the cool letter jacket. I have run marathons and half marathons so I could get the medals and have stronger looking legs but not because of any love of running. Similarly, I wanted to go to the boxing gym because I think wearing boxing gloves is cool and I want to have strong chiseled arms.

I also thought it would be a good idea for Mr. Deep and I to check out Fight Club (that's the name of the gym) together. While Mr. Deep and I are spending time together on the weekends and when we go on trips we aren't doing as many activities together as we used to before we moved here. We used to go to the gym together after work and now I go alone during the day. We don't run together because Mr. Deep is a lot faster than I am. We don't watch basketball together and root for our favorite team anymore because there is no basketball to watch. We don't talk about what happened on Howard Stern show because we can no longer listen. We don't cook dinner together because dinner making clearly falls under the Ops Department and Mr. Deep is not a member of the Ops team. So I asked him if he would go with me to Fight Club for a free trial and he agreed.

I wasn't sure what to expect from the free trial and we weren't given much information. The email confirmation said to bring water and a sweat towel so I imagined there would be some kind of exertion. But often when you visit gyms you also get an orientation of some kind so I thought that might be part of it. 


When we arrived we didn't have to sign any forms, present a doctor's note or even give a phone number. Yes, we had signed up in advance for the free trial but we never even gave our names when we checked in. I love the absence of formality and lack of concern over potential lawsuits in South Africa. 

We were put into a group with about ten other people. I am not sure if they were also there trying out the gym or if they were members. I was glad to see I wasn't the least fit of the bunch. I know it's petty but come on, you don't want to be the person who has to run out of the class to throw up. I was also probably the oldest woman in the group. I thought that was good from an expectations management standpoint. I considered telling the other women my age just so they would know for sure how old I am but I didn't get a chance. Chris, the trainer, asked us about our fitness level which of course Mr.Deep and I both described as "very good." He then wrapped our hands with a cloth band while Mr. Deep made comments like, "cut me Mick." 

To begin we had to run four laps around the parking lot. While I don't particularly like running I can run and I recently ran a 5k so I knew I could do it. My big concern was I didn't wear the right bra for running. The bra I wore was more appropriate for punching so that was not ideal. We ran the four laps and then Chris put boxing gloves on us. Yes, it's as cool as it sounds. We were hustled into an area with a bunch of bags and went through a series of drills. Many had to do with punching like left right left right really fast or punching left left left left etc. While we were busy punching the trainers walked around and gave advice about stance and form. In between bouts of punching we had to do jumping jacks, push ups, squats etc. 

After that we had to run again, this time two laps. If anyone stopped to walk (I didn't) the trainers told them no walking run, run, run. The running was o.k. but I've never had my arms hurt while running before. The punching was hard work! We then headed back inside for more activity. We did dips and fast step ups (two sets each) and then moved to another area where we held big weights (10kg for men and 5kg for women and a kg is 2.2 pounds by the way) above our heads and did fast knee lifts and then alternated with kettle bell swings. Twice. Finally we moved into the "ring" where we did crunches of various kinds before a cool down with stretching to end the class.

Throughout the class Mr. Deep shot me a few glances that indicated that he was not having fun and that he possibly wanted to kill me. It was really an intense work out. The first words Mr. Deep said to me after class were "having fun signing up" because he knew I would. And I will. These arms aren't going to chisel themselves. 

Somehow I was cut out of the two group photos taken by the club staff. I was standing right next to the girl with the red gloves. Now I have a complex thinking I was purposely cut because my arms are too flabby especially compared to hers. 

Kichaka Private Game Lodge

I am so proud of this photo that I've already posted it on Facebook and on Instagram. Usually I try to save the best photos and reveal them on the blog but with this one I just couldn't wait. I'm so happy I successfully captured fighting zebras while on safari at Kichaka. 

Last month, Mr. Deep, my parents and I took a trip together. The trip began in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa where we spent a few days at Kichaka Private Game Lodge. 

Map of South Africa. We live in Gauteng. Kichaka is located in the Eastern Cape province near Grahamstown.

We flew from Joburg to Port Elizabeth and then drove about an hour to Kichaka. We arrived early and our rooms were not yet ready but we were immediately captivated by the pretty lodge and surroundings. Kichaka is on par with Madikwe, which Mr. Deep and I visited about a year ago. Although we've been on several game drives since Madikwe, we haven't been anywhere nearly as fancy again until now.

Beautiful view from the deck at Kichaka lodge.

Inside the lodge

Private outdoor shower for each cabin at Kichaka. There was also an indoor shower and bathtub.

Private pool for each cabin at Kichaka. There was also a large pool at the lodge.

Mr. Deep and I have enjoyed all kinds of game drives from the self drive camping trip in Kruger to the more local park in Pilanesberg to the top private lodges like Madikwe and Kichaka. All of these safaris have been wonderful. Even our worst game drive experience was still an opportunity to view wildlife in natural surroundings. Watching wild animals eat, drink, fight, sleep, walk, whatever, I find it fascinating. And as no two game drives are exactly alike going on one is never boring at least not to me. 

Visiting a luxury lodge like Kichaka is an extra special experience because of the amenities offered. There is a lot of down time spent at these remote lodges when you are not out on game drives.  While I am fine with camping and roughing it I love vacations that are a mixture of rugged/wild and first class service. Years ago Mr. Deep and I visited a working cattle ranch in Montana. Days were spent riding horses, yelling at cows and getting dirty. Yelling at cows is so exhilarating by the way. Nights were spent eating gourmet dinners, drinking great wine and sleeping in a warm and cozy cabin with high thread count sheets. Perfection!

Another reason to love the high end luxury lodges is that the rangers who take you out on the safaris are excellent. The amount of knowledge that they possess in their heads about the animals is remarkable. Remember I wrote about Gavin at Madikwe? our guide at Kichaka was named Jason. Although he was much younger than Gavin he knew everything about animal behavior, trees, plants and animal tracks. The topic that he seemed to be most passionate about however was animal dung. This guy loved to talk shit. And not just talk about it. He liked to show it to us and discuss information that could be garnered from looking at it. Apparently quite a bit can be learned by studying it. 

An elephant track that Jason spotted on the road during an evening drive. Sorry, I didn't get any dung photos. I know some of you are disappointed.

We all know that male humans can be kind of gross. It seems that they can't help it because humans are animals and male animals in the wild are really gross. Male animals such as hippos and rhinos like to use their dung to mark their territory. I'll leave the methods they use to do this to your imagination. In addition, from what I gathered from listening to Jason, male animals spend their days eating, trying desperately to have sex with females, spreading around their dung, getting kicked out of herds by annoyed females and fighting with other males. How endearing.

One of the most exciting and borderline scary experiences came when we were looking at elephants. We were parked on the road watching elephants on both sides of the road eating branches and just hanging out. The brush was so thick that we couldn't see through it to see if other elephants were nearby. Jason had told us the day before that the situation you really want to avoid when viewing elephants is suddenly finding your vehicle surrounded by them. As we were watching, a big bull elephant came out of the brush right in front of our vehicle. Now, the truck was surrounded on three sides by elephants. Jason got nervous and said, "that's exactly what I didn't want to happen." He threw the truck into reverse and started backing up pretty quickly. It all happened fast and soon we were away from the elephants. What an experience!

Besides a first rate safari guide, other fantastic elements of Kichaka included the food, the accommodations, the spa and the endless amount of all inclusive fine alcohol. I have never been on a trip anywhere in my life where top shelf alcohol and whole bottles of wine were included in the price. If I had not visited the spa we would have owed no additional money upon check out. When the staff took us to our rooms they actually asked if they could put anything specific into our mini bars? For free! I almost fell over. I have been to Mexican resorts where some type of half gasoline half dregs of nearly empty liquor bottle swill is mixed with some not naturally appearing in nature blue juice. That concoction is free and all you can drink but it's not that classy. Of course at a game lodge you are getting up at 5:00 in the morning for the drives so you need to keep yourself in check. 

All liquor shown here was included in the price. Plus a full wine list and beer. WOW!

And the spa. To look at it the spa didn't seem like much as it was housed in a tent. However, the spa at Kichaka was the single greatest spa experience that I've had. And I know my stuff when it comes to beauty treatments. Listening to birds and nature and feeling a cool morning breeze while getting a facial is actually more relaxing than low light spa rooms with the piped in sound of fake waves crashing. I feel asleep during my treatment. It was that good.

Inside the treatment room

The spa from the outside

The food! Breakfast, lunch, dinner and high tea were provided each day as well as snacks and drinks on the afternoon game drive. It was really too much food but I managed to eat most of it anyway. All food was beautifully prepared and delicious.

African sunsets are so beautiful. 

Another one

Now onto the important stuff. Photos of animals. Enjoy!

Lion brothers. They were kicked out of the pride and now live on their own.

This cheetah had a little scrape on his leg so he was just resting. We watched him for about 30 minutes. 

Waterbuck

Submerged hippo

These rhino sightings were followed by a full lesson about rhino dung.

This is an African wildcat. Doesn't it look exactly like a regular house cat? Jason hadn't seen one in months so he was really excited about this sighting.