The next morning we packed up our gear and headed East; luckily, most of the wildlife did, too. We encountered the usual troupe, lounging around, rolling in the mud and grazing on the treetops. As much as I love watching herds of springbok, buffalo, and the occasional giraffe, I desperately wanted to see cats. And not just any cats — lions. I wanted to see big, furry, ferocious lions — the king of the jungle! Simba, Musafa, Nala — I wanted the whole gang.
As luck would have it, while heading towards Namutoni Restcamp, we stumbled upon two male lions, lying in the grass, gnawing on a zebra: breakfast of champions. So, there we sat, gawking at lions, with Cheerios in one hand and Nescafe in the other. A morning meal, not to be forgotten.
We stuck around for a while, but eventually word got out and several large vehicles came to join the party. We considered staying another night, but felt it best to press on. It’s always wise to quit while you’re ahead. Despite the weather and warnings, Etosha was a success, and we saw plenty. We even managed another run in with a lone hyena, strutting his stuff. Those things are almost as cool as lions… almost.
