I had a homesick, whingey day yesterday. Maybe it was the elections that did it. I woke up at 5:30, stumbled to the TV, and saw CNN saying that the dems took back the house. I started to cry and couldn't stop. Maybe being away from America has been made a bit easier because I've not been able to recognise it looking back. It's turned into this fanatical right wing theocracy in my absence, and all of the good guys have just kind of given up, right?

Wrong. Thanks, America. I knew the place I loved growing up was still there somewhere. And who knew that Virginia and Montana, of all states, would swing it for us? Manley1, hats off to your state.

But maybe as a result of this, I was miserable and homesick and grumpy all day. I had had it up to HERE with rural life. I hated the drone of the bugs, the heat, the dust and the wind, the third world petrol stations, the pointless beauraucracy and how things like your phone line don't work for weeks on end because people STOLE THE LINES TO MAKE JEWELLERY TO SELL TO TOURISTS (I'm not making this up) the roads, the poverty and the constant haggling at stoplights. I'd had enough of this whole Africa business, and was ready to just get the hell out. I spent most of the day in a black funk, snapping at everything. I wanted Civilization, and I Wanted It Now.

Finally, Brian hit upon the idea of trying to go out somewhere. We ended up trying to go to the bar at a little game lodge just down our dirt road. They didn't really have a bar, as it turned out, but invited us in for beers. This country is nothing if not friendly.

We ended up going with them to a little bush pub where two double Jameson and cokes cost about £2 and there was a violently orange taffeta ruffle on the back of the toilet seat. Pool was played, laughs were had, and somehow, we ended up agreeing to go jackal hunting? Not with guns, mind you, just to go find them. Well, it seemed like a pretty good idea at the time.

We ended up with five of us in a golf cart of sorts, I was standing on the back, a lovely but none too sober blonde Afrikaans chick was shining a spotlight into the bush as we drove into the reserve. After a somewhat hairy impromptu game drive, some jackal and kudu and lots of vague glittering eyes, and a few prayers on my end, we ended up out on a dam wall, with a 20 metre drop on either side of us and no guard rails. The moon was full, a big duvet that served well as a picnic blanket came out, and someone produced more beers.

I think you can treat homesickness with things like calling family and friends, going to films about America, eating comfort food and thinking thoughts of home. Or you can go out and remind yourself why you're so far away in the first place. That worked like a charm last night.

By the way, I confirmed that what I saw well could have been a leopard. The ranger tells me there are several in this area, and my description sounds about right. He didn't seem surprised. But I felt very cool.

I then woke up this morning to grogginess in the extreme and a dunting schedule. I'd stupidly scheduled a three hour long savannah ride then a 2pm flying lesson. Go, me. The ride was exhilirating, nothing beats a good hard gallop across the plains, a swim on horseback (!) and then a reflective walk back through enchanted, almost holy woods, with twisted vines and monkeys in the trees. We weren't in a game reserve per se, but managed to come across a little dukier only slightly bigger than my cat, and a herd of majestic waterbuck.

Now, I was wiped. A shower and lunch, and a cup of coffee, and I had to race to the airfield, none too awake. Needless to say, I flew disastarously and my instructor had to be a bit charitable in the post flight briefing. "You know, you flew brilliantly when you got here.. No idea what happened there today."

sigh.

Now I'm home alone with a big cup of tea. I heard the eeriest call a few minutes ago. It sounded like a rasp - sandpapery and rough. I've never personally hard a leopard, I hear the call is "a raspy cough," so I got all excited with the searchlight. I managed to work out what it was - a massive marsh owl, sitting about 10 feet from my window on the lawn, pissing off the dogs. We normally get the big eagle owls who just say "hoo" so this was kind of cool.

Oh crap. I'm turning into a goddamn birdwatcher.