Mamba Village was a slow burner (in more ways than one) but what a great day out we had. We arrived too early around 1030 am -- clearly to the bemusement of the hordes of staff who floated around the spacious grounds with nary a soul to bother them ... except us. We headed to the crocodiles first. Our youngest snoozed in her buggy, unaware of the dinosaur-like creatures of death sunning themselves behind the rusty fence. Our eldest was up in my arms within minutes. To be fair, the crocs were really impressive. At first sight, they looked like statues, or models. Sprawled beside a green lake, still absorbing the morning's heat, they showed no sign of life. Until the guide helpfully started whacking them on their very sensitive noses with a stick. "Ah, they are the laziest creatures..." he sighed. Lazy but by no means slow. The heads snapped around, the tails delivered sideswipes designed to knock attackers into the gaping jaws, but worst of all was the hiss-like growl that proceeded action. To say it was menacing would be like saying Ireland is damp. A throaty sibilance that seemed to erases millennia, setting us back in the time when dinosaurs roamed the earth. Our eldest was not impressed. The guide was great though, how he kept harrassing those beasts. At one stage, when one recalcitrant beast lounging in a pool refused to even acknowledge our presence, he hopped nimbly over the fence, stood on a rock and started to wield his by-now somewhat frayed stick. That worked... but my heart stood still, wondering if my daughter was about to have a special African experience. The little crocs were so small after the giants of 18 years... but no more cute for that. We had a coffee in the airy restaurant, watching staff in zebra-striped aprons busily setting up a barbecue and laying tables, and lining up for what was clearly some kind of pre-lunch group pep-talk on the beautiful green lawn...The place was still deserted and I wondered if we in the kind of place that keeps running at full tilt even though the tourists have long moved onto to pastures greener and hipper. I couldn't have been more wrong. To pass the time til lunch, we wandered around an AFrica-shaped lake to see the ostriches. Ostriches are bug-eyed, bizarre creatures that you just couldn't make up. Again, somehow you felt looking at them that you were opening a door onto a more basic, ancient world....or a Hollywood set. Nearby were some cages with rabbits and baby bunnies. As we oohed and aahed -- the babies really were rather adorable even to someone like me who doesn't much like animals -- our newly awake youngest stepped back and declared "Scared, bunnies scare Ray-Ray". Oh-oh, I thought, is she ready for the crocodiles. Of course, when we took her to see the beasts later, she was unfazed. Tried to poke sticks through the fence at the slumbering beasts just 2 feet away. Strange.
There was also a bouncy castle -- an impressively large one with many nooks and crannies. Sadly, it was also strictly Cats on a Hot Tin Roof. Our youngest took two steps and hobbled back to the edge. Our eldest, inured to pain by excitement, dashed off but soon came back to put on socks. A note to the wise, always always carry socks, preferably ski socks. I got on to help my littlest manoeuvre. I did not have socks and I executed a very clumsy, very hasty sprint from the middle with a child in my arms, finished with a daring jump to the ground. My feet were sore for hours.
Then lunch. A great buffet of fresh salads, innovative combinations, beef stew, chicken, and, of course, crocodile. I'd heard crocodile tasted like chicken. I'd also heard that every unusual meat is described as tasting like chicken. It didn't. It tasted like a slightly meaty, seafood. You can only eat the tail and legs. Crocodiles have such poisonous bile in their tummies that the whole torso is off limits. A double-whammy to unwary warthogs and zoned-out zebras..if the teeth don't get you, the toxins will. Lunch was served on a wide lawn with rustling plants and shaded tables beside the lake, and by now the place was hopping. Kenyans, couples, families, expats, tourists and lots and lots of children to entertain our two. A band played "easy listening" and then some funky tunes as a charismatic singer dressed in what looked like a prison uniform and a roadworker's fluorescent jacket worked the crowd. It was a great laid-back experience -- sadly we got too into the chillin' vibe and my good vibes that evening were tempered by shame as I gazed on my eldest's red-hot upper arms. It was one of those days - chilly or roasting, depending on the movement of the clouds. Our children rode a horse, and the eldest and Daddy even dared to mount a swaying camel that really did look grumpy. And on the way out, Santa and his elves offered sweets. Our kids snapped them up but I could tell the juxtaposition of crocs, sun, camels, ostriches and scary bunnies ... plus an unfamiliar Santa with elves with tales and bird-faces would take a little digesting....
There was also a bouncy castle -- an impressively large one with many nooks and crannies. Sadly, it was also strictly Cats on a Hot Tin Roof. Our youngest took two steps and hobbled back to the edge. Our eldest, inured to pain by excitement, dashed off but soon came back to put on socks. A note to the wise, always always carry socks, preferably ski socks. I got on to help my littlest manoeuvre. I did not have socks and I executed a very clumsy, very hasty sprint from the middle with a child in my arms, finished with a daring jump to the ground. My feet were sore for hours.
Then lunch. A great buffet of fresh salads, innovative combinations, beef stew, chicken, and, of course, crocodile. I'd heard crocodile tasted like chicken. I'd also heard that every unusual meat is described as tasting like chicken. It didn't. It tasted like a slightly meaty, seafood. You can only eat the tail and legs. Crocodiles have such poisonous bile in their tummies that the whole torso is off limits. A double-whammy to unwary warthogs and zoned-out zebras..if the teeth don't get you, the toxins will. Lunch was served on a wide lawn with rustling plants and shaded tables beside the lake, and by now the place was hopping. Kenyans, couples, families, expats, tourists and lots and lots of children to entertain our two. A band played "easy listening" and then some funky tunes as a charismatic singer dressed in what looked like a prison uniform and a roadworker's fluorescent jacket worked the crowd. It was a great laid-back experience -- sadly we got too into the chillin' vibe and my good vibes that evening were tempered by shame as I gazed on my eldest's red-hot upper arms. It was one of those days - chilly or roasting, depending on the movement of the clouds. Our children rode a horse, and the eldest and Daddy even dared to mount a swaying camel that really did look grumpy. And on the way out, Santa and his elves offered sweets. Our kids snapped them up but I could tell the juxtaposition of crocs, sun, camels, ostriches and scary bunnies ... plus an unfamiliar Santa with elves with tales and bird-faces would take a little digesting....
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