The Alfa and Africa.

Returning from the USA with our Buick 1966 four door, this clump of metal was the pride and joy of my Step father, Harry, he would not part with it for any thing. My mother, step father and myself drove across the USA from East to West, New York to L.A, then on down through Mexico {where my sister join us from London} to Panama on the Pan American Highway. This road consisted of pot holes and a wide track of dirt through jungle, dust would fly into every crevasse imaginable, and every river crossing we would stop, to wash and cool our selves down and with in minutes be dry again. This was a ritual at every river crossing, we knew the rivers were infested with Piranhas but we didn’t care, it didn’t bother us, or they were just not hungry!! we needed the cool fresh water. We ventured on with out the car to Columbia, Ecuador, Peru to the Bolivian boarder high in the Andes, during this time 68 there was no road between Panama and Columbia, so we left the Buick at a Beer factory and gave the guard twenty bucks and another twenty on our return if the car was still there and nothing missing. We trusted the guard and sure enough it was in perfect order on our return washed and clean. We pick up the car and drove north to Acapulco and rested up for two month in the old part of town by the beach. We had already been on the road for eight month and needed the rest badly. After our rest we drove on north back to L.A. I stay on with my first real boy friend in Malibu and my sister and step father and mother drove north to Vancouver and then West to East across Canada with a few oil changes and 1 flat tire, the Buick never let us down. This car was not going to be left behind, from Montréal it was lowered into the hole of the Queen Elizabeth and we all four followed, it was a hole, my sister, Mum, Harry and I found ourselves on the most ghastly ship ever returning to Liverpool then on to London after having emigrated to America two years previously.

The crossing was non eventful, boring as hell. A few ice berks floating by. We were rescued by the sons of an African American family extremely rich, they owned a few rejuvenation clinics in L.A. The boys came loaded with grass and they became our best new friends for the trip, we had to finish all the grass before arriving in the UK, so we smoked and smoked and watched the same movie over and over again in the stinky little cinema, in the end we were amused, just giggling at anything, if they had not been there to saved our lives we probably would have raided the Doctors cabinet, as it was, we were sick, very sea sick on the boat. I spent five days walking round the ship and watching the same movie and eating horrible food. My sister poor thing had her twenty first birthday on that very ship and she was not amused. My step father had arranged the band to play happy birthday and it was all so seedy, She got up and left the dinning room to shy and really pissed off at the commotion and fuss. She was not one to stand out and be seen more the type ‘leave me alone and don’t point me out’.

Arriving in Liverpool, bless the Beatles for the songs, we headed down the wrong side of the road and we all shouted “Harry” a quick change to the right side of the road was impending. Arriving in London where nothing had changed, the only thing apparent was the size of our car and the looks we were getting. “Ouh is that an American car? init big”. We had only been gone for two years, and it felt like no one really missed you until you showed up, then they realised you had actually been gone and the sense of missing came. You could quiet honestly drop off the face of the earth, and disappear and life goes on as though you had never been on the planet in the first place. Friends would suddenly remember you and say, “Oh yes, surprised you’re here? Where were you?”

Mum acquired a red VW Beatle. I past my California Driving License on a blue V.W in Calabasas and it was the only one in L.A and covered with stick on hippie flowers, being use to a Beatle proved to be no hazel, just getting use to driving on the other side of the road. Ah England. The Buick took Mum and Harry on to Turkey, and Morocco with no problems. Then the day came when it was ready for the breakers yard, Harry in tears, “Can’t we squash it into a square lump, like in the films, without some poor barista dying in side, you know like in the movies” don’t get carried away here Harry. His brain wave was to have the car as a cube that could be used as the base of a coffee table, a nice square block, and then put a thick piece of glass on the top, an instant coffee table. The only thing was, this lump would have fallen threw the floor of the building on to the dinning room table below, weighing in a near ton, plus the glass, no, this was not to be. So the good bye ceremony was a tow truck and he was miserable for quiet a while after his most treasured car was gone and was left with a photo of him with the car for memory.

One day looking through the Exchange of Mart, an English news paper that sells second had cars, I found an advertisement. ‘For Sale Alfa Romeo 2.600 Spyder, 2 door 1966 Convertible 300 pounds sterling. Call……’ What? Mum listen and re read the add out loud and we both looked at each other with a glint in the eye. I jumped up picked the phone up and we raced down to Eton Square in thirty minutes, in record time where the car was.. We stood at her door and the Alfa was parked out front. It was the dream of all dreams. I rang the door bell and the door open and a woman, a Sophia Loren type, covered in jewels and thick make up, like she had never left the stage for 60 years. “Yes” “We called up about the Alfa” Oh she said. “Your to late I’ve sold it”, we nearly died. No, this was not happening, this was our car. Compose yourself Lulu, Mum composure please its needed here. “Could you be so kind as to tell us who bought the car” “Yes a man that owns a Garage up North”, she gave us the number and when we got home we telephoned the guy. No one picked up. Panic attack. We had to wait a day before anyone picked up the phone. Then a woman picked up and said you will be needing to talk to my husband, the gentle man on the other end of the phone who had a very heavy northern accent said ‘Yes’ ‘I’m calling about the Alfa’, he was willing to negotiate, this was good news for us and all thumbs went up, he said it was for sale again and made the excuse that he bought it for his wife and she didn’t like it. My god, our luck, ‘What price are you asking for it” 350 he said. What luck, lick was on our side I couldn’t believe my ears, 50 quid more ‘Ok could you deliver it please to London’ ‘Yes but it will cost you extra for the delivery’ a price was arranged and Mum and I danced around the house like total fools.

The Alfa arrived the next day. What did we do? Go for the longest drive ever, then she tossed the keys over and said, ‘Go on have a go’ a VW Beatle turned into an Alfa over night and my dreams had come true. This car was the car of all cars. Sweet and very fast, it had a kick under the hood like no other car I experienced for a long time. I felt a rumble in the engine, so I told Mum we would have to have it checked out, so we took down to the Alfa garage near Portabello road. ‘Yes dear your running on 5’ he said, ‘well can you fix it, and how long will it take?’ I said, ‘two weeks’ he said, ‘what two weeks are you serious?’ ‘I’m full up here dear, but I will do my best and it will be as good as new’. We left the car and two weeks later picked it up, it was washed and cleaned running like a brand new car. We paid the bill a small fortune, {don’t tell Harry} and drove the first test run to Oxford. Wow this car was a machine to die for. We were laughing to our hearts content. We drove on and on and took turns, our hair flying in the wind and truck driver blowing there horns at us, we were both in ecstasy. I was sure that the colore gray was not going to stay, this car had been designed by Pena Ferina, this was a designer car and was not going to stay gray that’s for sure. Ferrari and Maserati’s were designed by him and so was this Alfa, so the colore was going to change. So Ferrari red it became and it was the best thing I ever did. This car was a Majestic Jewel. We never had any trouble with it ever.

I had found a Ferrari mechanic in a little Muse street some where near Victoria and Albert Museum, the mechanic was an x racing driver from the 50’s he had been very badly hurt and unable to race again, so he turned to tuning Ferraris a way to earn his living, sad really, he explained that he was not so far from the cars that he loved so dearly and gave him pride to work on them and not sit at home doing nothing. He took on the Alfa, which he did free, for me. He would stop working on a car he was working on when I showed up, I would sit with him and talk about racing and told him about my bro’s racing days, we had cups of tea and then he would go strait to tuning up my car. I would go and see him every 2 weeks, and it was a joy to spend time with him. He knew I loved the mechanics of the Alfa car, the passion I had for this car was unbelievable and he new it. I fitted it with a black soft top, a convertible hood, it was hand made and I also changed the seats to black leather, so it became a Ferrari red with black interior.

Great guns of fire, my life became one hell of a rock n roll race, guys would pull up beside me in there 911’s Porsches, or what ever, Jaguars, BMW’s or Jensen’s and we would make eye contact I would smile sweetly and then hit the gas and usually left them standing. One guy actually followed me home and asked me to race again, as he said it wasn’t fair because I got away with the smile and he wasn’t ready ‘Ha, that’s the way it is love when your in front of a woman’ I said. I had a great great time and loads of fun and Mum pretty much left me the car as she was full on with her art work and preparing to drive to India for the first time in the VW camper they had bought off some Ozzy guy’s.

At this time I was playing around racing what ever I could, but then there was Sandy, he was this gypsy type guy, wow this guy was the hunk of all hunks, I think this guy was, really the most difficult man I had ever come up against, I was totally useless in front of him, I couldn’t utter a word to him, and I felt nervous and very self conscious. He was living in a squat in Camden with some of my friends, so we had mutual friends in common I would be visiting and then he would walk in, every one knew my feelings for him and he loved the attention and they teased me unmercifully. Sandy shared the house with Pete, Titi, Monica and Bob. Bob and Sandy were brothers, and I think they were, in some way or another, my be half brothers, they had no physical resemblance at all, but in character they were these gangster, gypsy, motor biker types and Sandy left me speechless really speechless. I felt like a stupid fool for the first time in my life in front of a man. It all became much too much for me, so I ran way to Africa, to get this guy out of my system, as far away as possible and disappeared for a month. I sent a postcard saying wish you were here Lulu. That did not go down well it was suppose to be a joke as it was the last person I really wanted to be around.

I was twenty years old and heart broken, angry at myself for being such a clot. So Africa saved my life and so did Annie my best girlfriend from boarding School.

I hopped on a fight to Kenya, Africa, I had been to Annie’s before in 1966 now it was 1971 and my heart was in a mess. Her family lived at Lake Nivasha, and they still owned the farm where I first stayed in 66 near Limuru, her brother was freezing vegetables for shipping to the Seychelles and its vast expanding Hotel trade. He picked me up in an E type Jaguar. Annie and I we were squashed together in the front seat. He drove like a lunatic, crazy. Africa works at half speed, so the journey home was horrible as he nearly hit everyone on the way or anything on the road.

The parents had race horses before at the farm near Limuru, it was a huge tea plantation, I had been invited for the Christmas holidays in 1966 from school, here I learnt to dive my first car ever. I was 15 years old. Annie who had learnt to dive at the age of 11 was my teacher. The car involved was a Land Rover, the type you always see on Safari films. We were going down a small hill, the drive was about two miles long and I saw her Dad coming round a corner in his Mercedes, this was pure luxury and new. I panicked, being my first day driving and as he got closer and closer I realised that he was not going to stop or pull over so I headed into five tea bushes to the left up a small embankment and came to a grinding stop. He carried on, not stopping driving like a maniac and Annie turned to me and said. “Whoops, that’s not good” I was in a fluster and thought of stopping the whole driving lessons, but she made me back out, while reversing for my first time, we came to the conclusion that we were better off rooting up five tea bushes then a smashing into the new Mercedes. ‘Yah’ we giggled the whole way down the drive, me nervously thinking about the confrontation later with her Dad. He remarked about the driving lesson, and the tea bushes were replanted. This man was a round ball, a hard type of a fellow. He scared the daylights out of most people and made the staff in his eyes, invisible.

He was a joker and loved a good joke, Annie’s mum took care of the staff, and she was pretty tough though. The cook was a lovely old man and had been with them his whole life. He learnt to cook from Mrs Beaton’s cook book and the food was exceptional. Annie would tease him unmercifully with Chameleons, Africans consider this reptile to be of ‘a darker side of Spirit’ being able to adapt a colore change, camouflage its self. The Africans could not understand this could be possible, so, when they couldn’t understand, they would label it as bad, or black magic. Annie would leave a Chameleon in the Kitchen under a cooking pot and we would wait. Sure enough screams, pots and pans flu through the air crashing to the floor, the cook would charge out the kitchen back door, where there would be another Chameleon on the wall, strategically placed, of course by Annie. This man would jump up and down for 5 minutes, scream and turning in circles on the lawn outside refusing to go back in the kitchen. Honestly you would think that the devil him self was in that Kitchen. I felt sorry for the poor man I thought he was going to die or have an epileptic fit. We rolled around on the grass in hysteria. He would have to be calmed, and every Chameleon gone for one mile radius before venturing back into the kitchen. He would get the other staff, the cleaners, and the garden staff to check that all was clear for he was the cook and he was the ‘boss’ in the kitchen.

Inevitably there was something wrong with the food that day at lunch, and Annie’s mum called the cook in to explain. Annie, saving his skin, ‘Mum there was a Chameleon in the Kitchen today’ her mother would look with a knowing glance at Annie, and say ‘You know dear what this does to them Annie’ and shack her head. And the cook half in the doorway would retreat back into the kitchen. She would sigh and wave her hand for him to retreat.

The breakfast trip was wonderful, every morning two Grays, African parrots were set up on two perches each side of Annie’s Dad. There breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs from Annie’s father, they would climb off the perches on to his shoulder and take the scrambled eggs from between his lips they were so gentle. Annie’s Dad loved this birds more than anything else, then both parrots would consecutively return to there perches and eat the eggs, pieces would fall to the floor below and the two Bull Terrors each sitting under a parrot perch would catch every drop that fell before the egg hit the floor, it was a continuous feeding chain and it was the high light of the day, not a crumb left on the floor.

They owned a logging forest not far from Nivasha too. We never spoke about it as one of Annie’s brothers was struck by lightning as he hid under a tree with his two dogs. It was very upsetting for all of them.

During this same trip in 66 they took me to Mt Kenya National park, and it was fantastic, green and big forest country, loads of animals and monkeys. We also went through Tsavo National park on the way to Malindi where they owned a holiday house and a large boat for Marlin fishing for entering fishing contests. The 1st and only fish I ever court was a Marlin and I was strapped to the chair and hauled in the most beautiful fish I had ever laid eyes on and the a Tuna fish. This was the last time I ever caught fish as I was so distressed how they set about killing the poor thing, it put me off fishing for life, but I still eat fish!.

We had great fun in Malindi. Trish, Annie’s sister was about eighteen and boy crazy, so every night we would go to bed like three good girls at 9pm, then sneak out the window an hour later pushing their VW Beatle out on to the road so as to not wake the parents up. We charged off to the bars, clubs and parties, picking up friends along the way, every one in the same predicament as us. Not allowed out. We managed to fit thirteen people in the Beatle most nights. At 8am sharp we would have to be at the breakfast table having just got back hung-over and feeling like death, smiling as though we had 10 hours sleep.

As soon as breakfast was over we would go to a swimming pool club so we could sleep all day.

I remember some rich Africans came on holiday to the club pool and wanted to swim but they were turned away by the owner. We were all disgusted by this improper behaviour, so that night we crept back and put black dye in the clubs pool. We checked in the morning, they had to drain all the water out of the pool having to resurface the walls with a new paint job. I think they got the point. A great streak of black colore could be seen on the beach from the emptied pool water in the morning.

Annie and I were in a crash, in the VW Beatle, we came round the corner, Annie driving and to miss hitting a drunken man dancing in the middle of the road, she swerved and the car shot across the road, into a rocky field hit a tree and turned on its side, and we, in a heap on top of each other, arms and legs every where. Here I saw my whole life pass by in two very long seconds, it seemed like hours. Some guys eventually came over and rescued us out the window, well they could have open the door and got us out that way! I was scared and the thought of fire crossed my mind, ‘fire’ I screamed, ‘Annie get out quick’. Nothing court fire and she managed to switch off the engine that was making the most terrible noise, I think the accelerator got stuck. We got the car towed out or pushed out. Annie drove the car after the metal was pulled away from the wheals by some local Africans for a few shillings. She did not want her parents to find out. We had to get the car fixed in a few hours. The VW had to be home and looking like nothing had ever happened. This car had hit a tree and it had lost two feet of its size it was a sight for sour eyes. Annie had a boy friend a French army guy who was on holiday with some of his friends, these guy’s got the car back to its original size in a few hours, I am not kidding, it was the finest job ever not a bend or dent to be seen and we never got found out. Not a word was said to anyone at the house and Ma and Dad never got wind of it.

My holiday was a blast and I will always remember this wonderful time.

I was taken up to the Lord Delamere’s house in the hills, it was rather like being in England, very beautiful and not so hot, green every where. He was a very important person in Africa during WW II. He was also very prominent figure in the film ‘Out of Africa’ he had also been a close friend of my Grand Mother.

Annie and her family gave me the chance of a life time and I am so grateful for their support, compassion and care. They were a life line to my family in Africa and open up a view of life I was totally oblivious too.

This trip ended after Christmas and it was now 1967, I flew home having had the most amazing African Safari and went back to school full of joy.

At Lake Nivasha, 4 years later, the house they now owned was a few feet away from the lake, they owned a speed boat for fun and water spots. I learnt to water sky amongst the Hippos, they never told me how dangerous they were, I could have lost a leg as it took me ages to get up and stay up. I never graduated to mono sky, hopeless at this spot I was.

Early mornings consisted of taking the race horses out for a run. This was a strip of earth road or track, the course was about a mile long. The horses were frisky and would charge as soon as they saw the track, we would ride full glop and on looking down I saw tracks of Lions. Great I thought, run away to Africa and land up in the mouth of a Lion off a horses back. It was great fun I actually love the morning rides with a little fear under my belt, we never saw Lions just there tracks, which made it all the more hairy. After the run we would walk back all sweaty and look for carrots in the vegetable garden, now these carrots were the size of foot balls, I’m not kidding, we only needed one carrot per horse, the Nivasha soil was pure Volcanic and it looked to me like we were sitting in the crater of an ancient Volcano, any thing you grew here would land up ten times its size.

The trees were full of Love birds, they paired for life. This reminds me of a story my Mum once told me. To remind Mum of Africa while she stayed with her father in London, he bought her a couple of Love Birds as a present, one of the Love birds died and left the other alone, Grand Pa felt sorry for the lone bird and wanted to find a mate for it, so Grand Pa went to the London Zoo to find a replacement bird. He had to order one and it took a while before the new bird arrived. The lone Love bird had already been alone for a while now, and when Grand Pa presented it with a new mate it got so excited that it had a heart attack and died. {We always respect Love birds after that story} so Grand Pa took the new arrival back to the Zoo and gave it to them as a present.

In our family Love Birds were to be left alone in the trees enjoying life, free, as all birds we came to the conclusion should be left to fly.

We traveled north to some friend of Annie’s and Trish, to another lake, they called it the Teddy Bear lake, it had an island in the middle of the Lake and it looked like a Teddy bear was lying on its back in the water, you could see the out line of its head, nose, tummy, and its legs with his feet sticking out at the end, it really looked like a Teddy Bear. These young men would catch birds for a living. We would go out at night and dazzle them with the car lights. It was fun for a while but I soon realised that these birds were going to land up in a prison for the rest of there lives and we wanted to leave.

We also landed up at a snake farm, this man had been bitten so many times by venomous snakes that he said he only had one more bit and his body would not be able to take the venom, he had African Mambers, all kinds, and one we actually touched it was a huge big Python, it was four meters long and the size of a fat mans leg. He had the most wonderful markings and I when I toughed it, it made me feel really strange.

Annie had been studding in London to become a Nurse. She left for home for Africa after a love affair with a Doctor that turned ugly, he was a married man and she was left heart broken, it wasn’t going any where. It seems Africa is a great place to get over heart aches. She was great fun to be with. Trish and Annie would pull the most horrible jokes on me. Like, hang a dead snake over my bed, so on awakening, there would be this thing in my face, it would take a while to register, a snake, and they would time the action of how long and how far I would bolt out of bed.

We were invited to a friend’s house in Nairobi and the lady giving a dinner party was German, she owed this lovely house right in the heart of Nairobi and it was so beautiful, the gardens were exquisite. She looked like a 70 year old Barbie Doll from the 50’s, she was very sweet and gave us a lovely dinner, and her lover was Count Davico.

Sitting at the head of the table he asked me about my mother’s family. So I went into detail about My Grand Ma, and her daughter, Pamela my Mum. He stopped me short. “You mean you are the daughter of Pamela, the daughter of Joyce from Arusha” “Yes” I was. “Good God” he got up and came over and kissed me and said “My first love, in my life was your mother, Pamela I just think she didn’t see me, she married that scoundrel Poul”. Well, well, he was flabbergasted. He started to reminisce how beautiful my Mum was and how I resembled her, Barbie Doll kept on smiling. He then offered to take me and Annie to Tanganyika (Tanzania) Arush, he had a coffee farm near by and was leaving the next day. He invited us to go with him, saying he would take me to find my Grand Ma’s farm. I was knocked senseless for a moment and gladly accepted.

There was a certain hitch to it though, as we found out later. We had to run money, smuggle money into the country for him, from Kenya, he said there wouldn’t be any trouble, all would be taken care of with a back hander, money under the table, so to speak.

So we set off. He was a very tall man and had the composer of an Italian Count, he was one and you could see that this man in his younger days had been real film star, a real looker. He had a charm, the presents of an Aristocrat. I thought as we journeyed how could’ve my Mother have missed this catch, I just don’t know, and knowing who she eloped with made it even more difficult for me to understand. This man driving me to Arusha with our knickers full of his dough, {money} could have been my father. Well no not really. I would have been someone else, well half of me could have been some one else, always a funky concept to think about. What if?

We arrived at the boarder which was a shack, a tin roof on four sticks, with two moth eaten guards, sub machine guns, probably from China and a wooden bar across the road. This was the boarder between Kenya and Tanganyika, one of the main crossing points! We looked at each other and couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about. As they searched the car both of us got out and stood away, then in a flash, doors slamming we were off before you could say Sweet Heavens in a plum of dust.

Africa was dry, very dry and animals were every where, my thoughts turned to the starving people in Africa and all these wild beasts, so many, it was unimaginable, you couldn’t count them for there were millions of them, it just never stopped. Why is it like this for the African people why could they not live off the land? Land was plentiful and the animals were even more plentiful. After all it was their land hundreds of thousands of years ago, and they successfully made it this far, was it then down to the new invaders the British Empire, and all those Nations along with the Dutch, the Germans, the Spanish and the French so on. Creation gave us plenty, and we humans were making everything inhuman in every aspect of the human race impossible for others to live in harmony off the land. It was very upsetting looking out that window that day. This made my boyfriend troubles, Sandy disappear out the window, and I never looked back.

I once had a discussion, now this might seem strange as it depends if your French or not{the person in question is French} by the way, why is it that the French are the only ones that have not given back the Dom Toms, as the French call them, back to the original Native people of the Islands. Now this man is what you might call a cool new age type, tattoos, long hair etc he actually had the balls to say that these people, meaning the Locals, the Natives of Tahiti would be lost with out the French for they were well taken care of. I question this remark and got “Social Security they are looked after by”. My point was that, where you’ve made the mistake or your country has made the mistake, is that the Native people have never needed you in the first place. They lived in harmony, worked, fished, and had no hand outs and were perfectly happy in their environment respecting land, sea and air. He didn’t agree. ‘They’ve got it good believe me’ he said. Well I didn’t agree and it has only created a new breed of lazy and unhappy people. And on top of it the French tested Nuclear bombs near their islands, in their back yard, which has resulted in the Locals, Natives having to abandon their Island and contracting terrible diseases like Cancer. Thanks for the Social Security lark. Test Nuclear bombs in the area and make them all sick and still they don’t look after and then have them tossed off their very own lands. Nice.

Anyway it all seemed as though there could be another way in the world to let people be, and look after them selves as they have before. Civilisation and educated people have done very well exploiting and messing up lives of others. We did not see eye to eye on this matter. I walked off wishing I had never got into a conversation with a very ignorant man.

We arrived at the farm on the side of a hill surrounded by the Count Davico’s coffee plantation. The view was fantastic, we were shown to our rooms and soon enough there was a knock at the door, Davico’s voice “The merchandise please”. I had completely forgotten that I had been carrying enough money to feed a small country for a year. “Yes ok sure, give me a sec” and handed it out from behind the door.

Later after showers and refreshments we planned the next day’s adventure. Find my Grand Ma’s place of course. I couldn’t sleep all night I was a wreck the next morning. My thoughts were on my Grand Ma whom I had never met.

We went into Arusha, but first we were taken to a house that stood up above a Lake, it was the most beautiful place ever. The person who owned it was an old friend of Grand Ma’s and we got directions on how to find her place. Arusha was a dust track and a few shops with roves made out of tin. The people looked desperate and it was not a place for two young girls to be alone. We drove up a track into Jungle and it got pretty thick. Elephants, Leopards were around every corner then it opened out into a clearing. There were some foundations of a house and the Count said. “Here we are, look here we are at your Grand Ma’s place” pointing, viably I could make out rooms and a veranda in the ruins everything had gone but the foundations. There was a river near by and huge Aurum Lilies, I went for a walk unafraid and came across a tomb like place, my heart leapt for I had found the place where my Grand Mother lay. She had died very young with Typhoid just after my mother had left with her new husband, against all the wishes of her mother. I was so moved, a Leopard could have come up behind me and I would have just stayed there not caring as I was riveted to the spot with emotions, no words can tell you my feelings here. This place must have been a massif garden and far way from anyone.

We left, I with a heavy heart, it had been a sad ending for such a young woman, but I felt blessed that I got this far and actually found the place where all these stories were just imaginations. I stood on the very ground that had roamed with my families life and now was protected by law and became a National Park, it went back to what it originally was, a place of peace where Leopards roamed freely and wild Bore did not get shot at with an Elephant gun and blown to smithereens.

To change the mood Count Davico took us to a friend whom also remembered my Grand Mother and he had baby Lions cubs, kittens, big kitties, very big and playful kitties. They were adorable in a clumsy way and made us laugh, there teeth were already sharp, and we fed them milk in a bottle they sucked away and soon finished what we had given them and rolled around us with full fat bellies. The story was the cubs mother had been killed and the cubs were found starving, they were brought to the man whom we were visiting and his intension was to look after them and reintroduce them back into the wild. It would take him years to teach these cubs and then when they were adult enough to look after them selves let them go. We were so happy to meet a man who had so much dedication and compassion for the Lion cubs. Soon it was time to go.

This day for me was one of the most amazing days of my life and I could see Kilimanjaro from the very spot that my Grand Mother, her husband Mum’s stepfather, my Mother and her sister Anne stood, they were at one time looking at the same mountain as me now, from the very place I was standing. I was a part of them, their flesh and blood.

Some days we were left to ourselves while Davico went about his coffee plantation, we would set out exploring the place. We came to a river in the forest and here I will never forget the butterflies just hundreds of them, they were the size of saucers Turquoise blue with black edges, we stayed there for hours and they landed on our arms, legs, hair every where were this fabulous flapping butterflies. They would hover over the water, maybe drinking in was a sight of wonder and we sat there hour after hour just enjoy this spectacle.

We also met the women of the Maasai tribe, they were all decked out with amazing colore and beads and I wanted to take a photo, they all started screaming and the men appeared in seconds with spears. The Maasai did not give permission or allow anyone to take photos of them, they considered that the photo would be taking their soul away from them and you would be doing what you wanted with them {magic?} I shot to the car and would not come out again, everyone thought it was a great joke. I learnt my lesson to ask first before taking a photo of anyone. The women where so angry and all eyes were on me with hate. I had no idea that this was the way, and my compatriots I am sure knew, they just love to have a joke in anyway possible. Africa!

I was also introduced to Dr Leaky and his wife. They had two Servile cats, they were the most elegant for me of the cat family I had a passion for them. This fur was used for Kings and Queens, as drapery on a cape, a collar that would reach to the floor how many animals this would take?

It was unthinkable to me how anyone might even consider shooting this lovely animal, and to this day I will never understand people shooting Tigers, Lions, Cheetahs, or as they called it, game for that matter any animals for game.

Arriving back in London and 15 kilos lighter and no one recognising me, I felt ready for the Alfa again, back in the seat and off I went…..

I never saw Annie again, but one day she was staring at me on the TV, she was in a documentary by a Lake side she was playing with a small child looking just like her. I hoped it was her daughter and if so, she had found her soul mate at last doing something with Africa.