In the capital city Kampala, cars are never overloaded. It’s illegal you know! Three people in the back, one in the front, no more.

But I’m in the countryside now, where the rules don’t matter. Police are scarce, if you do happen to find them, sometimes they can be “bought”. Speed traps are non existent, there are feck all speed limit signs… you get the picture. Actually I have seen one speed limit sign, it was for 30kmph, we passed it doing about 80.

The first time I got a “bushtaxi” I got a bit of a shock. I was traveling from a “trading center” known as Lukaya. Trading centers don’t seem to be towns or villages… they don’t contain anything cultural, and I don’t think that Lukaya place has a school either. A trading center seems to be just where a country road becomes lined on either side by shacks and stalls and dingy hotels for about a mile and then you’re back to the countryside.

I was in Lukaya with my uncle in law Bashir. I had just tried out an internet “cafe”. It was a pretty snazzy place… we walked into what I thought was the reception desk and asked if I could use the internet. They lady got up and I was expecting her to lead me to the computer room, but she just pointed at the PC she was sitting at and said “there you go now”. I sat down at the battered PC and surfed the internet which had a speed of about one bit per hour. 15 minutes after waiting for hotmail to open I gave up and threw the lady 100 shillings. Worst internet ever. We descended onto the “streets” of Lukaya.

It was pitch black, and there were no streetlights… Shopfronts throw out a tiny bit of light, enabling you to dodge holes in the “path” and jump over lumps of still smoldering rubbish. There are lads playing pool outside shacks, the pool table lit by a crappy bulb with flys buzzing around it. Proper African shtyle. I’m not getting stared at though as it’s too dark to see Mr. Mzungu.

Getting to Lukaya was a bit of an adventure, we flagged a bus from Bashirs house, and as it was coming to a stop I noticed that there was a sign on the front saying something like “Allah Jihad Islam” or something. A robed and hatted muslim conductor stepped out and instantly overcharged us by about 500% just because I’m white. Bashir told him to shove the price up his hole and eventually he got him down to the normal price. Once we were on the bus the conductor and Bashir were having a few angry words in Luganda, and Bashir said something which caused the whole bus to burst out laughing… I had a bit of a laugh too even though I didn’t understand a thing; a bus full of howling people would make anyone laugh. And for some reason the conductor looked a bit embarrassed and shut his mouth… Once we got to Lukaya I asked Bashir what the hell was that all about, he told me the conductor was giving out about me saying that I was rich and I should pay more and look at me with my rich clothes and all that. Then Bashir told him “hey watch what you’re saying, this mzungu understands Luganda perfectly so you’re caught rotten!” And the whole bus laughed at the conductor. And me laughing randomly was the icing on the cake… twas as if I really did understand what was going on.

Anyways, we’re looking for a taxi back to Bashirs house. We find one and I hop in the front, Bashir in the back. Bashir tells me that we’re going to have to wait for the taxi to fill up… I was like grand, just two more people in the back and we can get back home. The driver is outside shouting his destination and people start to show up at the car. He tells Bashir something, and Bashir gets out and four random people get in the back… I turn around and look at them with a “what the feck is going on?” face and they look back at me with a “why is that white lad looking at us with a what the feck is going on face?” face. I look around outside for Bashir but I can’t see him. Where the feck did he go? Suddenly he hops into the drivers seat… I’m more confused now. Then my passenger door opens and a lad squeezes himself in beside me. Two more people squeeze into the back, then the taxi driver finally wedges himself into his seat beside Bashir. So this is what a full taxi means! 6 in the back, 4 in front… Bashir tells me that the norm is 12 people. The car coughs and splutters up the dusty road.

Oh yeah, people drive with full brights on at night. It ripped the eyes out of me and I was only sitting down, I don’t know how the driver didn’t crash.

My last visit to Pure Taqueria was so successful, people at work were wanting me to make another food run. And if I were going to do that, I thought it worthwhile to eat there myself. This is the one new dish I tried:

They call it tres ceviche, with shrimp, fish, and octopus in each of the three containers.  I took most of this dish back to work, and it disappeared around 5 pm. Delicious.

Later this weekend, we went to the new Uncle Julio’s in Sandy Springs. Our timing couldn’t have been worse, as three large groups arrived before we did and the wait was quite long. And after the food arrived, I had the joy of watching my mother-in-law take the long strips of chicken fajita meat and steadily cut them into thin 1.5 inch long strips that would have been suited for a stir fry, perfectly sized for chop sticks. She was persistent in her resizing, even though she didn’t have any chop sticks.

These are Uncle Julio’s beef fajitas. I’m guessing, given the grain of the meat, that they are using something like flank. The fajitas are really good, though they arrived without a hint of steam or smoke and the onions are just turning transparent, let alone caramelized. So on taste, they are an A. On presentation, maybe a B.

Uncle Julio’s has good pork ribs (my wife had a plate they call a Juarez, a mix of fajitas and ribs) and an interesting tomato based sauce. And in fact, most of the dishes the waiters will steer you to are grilled foods. This restaurant is more like Outback or Longhorns than I realized at first.

On the north side of Shimokitazawa, there is a Hawaiian restaurant with palm trees that are unusual for Tokyo. The tall palm tree with a silver trunk is a Queen Palm, syagrus romanzoffiana, native to woodland Brazil and Argentina and very common in San Francisco and other cold climates. It looks somewhat like a coconut palm.

The restaurant is clearly using these gorgeous palms– along with tiki torches and up-lights lit even during the day, a water fountain, and a wood porch extending to the street– as signifiers of exotic and distant islands. The effect is rather surprising and a pleasant contrast from the neighborhood’s narrow and crowded streets with few real street trees.

The trees look very healthy. I wonder if the restaurant provides special protection in the winter. The small palm tree is also very appealing. It is a Pindo Palm, or butia capitata, native to Brazil and Uruguay. Since it is hardy to 9C (15F), it seems well suited to Tokyo.

Diary of ME! Part VIII

Home

Friday! Finally! Again! The only free day of the week. Never got bored of Fridays, and I probably will never. Today I had planned to go with my friends and two fathers to the Computer Exhibition, which I was looking forward to it for two reasons. First, I love computers! Second, I kind of ruined my old speakers and needed new ones for Resident Evil 5 and plenty of other games. I also listen to music while working on the net sometimes.

I consider time on the computer is time spent wisely with a bonus of the internet, which isn’t easy to get here¹.

1(I won’t lie, internet is easy to here, but for no more than dial up, and those not familiar with dial up it has a max of roughly 7 kb download ……. regular browsing speeds are roughly from 11 – 56 kb/s depending on the internet’s mood)

When it was time to go, we went to the neighbor’s car for he was going to take us.

You know! Car pooling! We love the environment.

We sat in a Toyota Yari[s]² and 4 people were in the back, including me. I hope you can imagine how we were sitting.

2(The car was called Yaris, but after the third day from purchase someone broke off the “s”. )

2009 Shaam Technology Exhibition

We   (me and my friends) have been to lots of exhibitions, I even worked in one. They weren’t perfect, but they were good and we didn’t mind going. But this time was different. Way different. For some dumba**³ reason the guy who planned the Exhibition decided that entering the exhibition was free and unfortunately the Exhibition is placed between lots of hill-bellies’⁴ that live there, and every one of them loves free stuff, who doesn’t? But it’s supposed to be a Tech-nol-ogy exhibition for God’s sake! Not a carnival!

3(Here a** means donkey, not butt) My blog is rated E for Everyone

4(Most Hill-bellies are evil here)

Another new thing was the entrance to the Exhibition grounds. When I arrived it looked like someone was giving free Lamborghinis away, but it turned out to be the entrance to the grounds and people were being let in through a door. If that wasn’t enough, some guy decided that people weren’t allowed to get in until getting ……. “wrongfully touched” if you get my meaning. First your chest, your shoulders, your sides and then, pop, between your legs.

After the feeling of being “wrongfully touched” dissolves, you would start thinking that you took a wrong turn and were entering N.A.S.A. or something. Oh my God, It’s just an Exhibition! I mean why would they do that? Who was the smart guy who planned this out? It’s just a Technology Exhibition, and probably 98% of the stuff are Chinese products.

That’s only for the men of course, because I am sure that if massacres wouldn’t be made, they would do it to the women also. Fortunately the women were taken to the side and had their side bags expected.

After getting through the wretched door, which, thank God doesn’t take as long as expected, you have to get a pass. There were 2 types of passed (at least). A student’s pass and a regular pass. To get the students pass you have to look like a student AND get lucky because they don’t give it to everyone that looks like a student, they probably give it randomly. The regular pass needs you to fill out a paper for personal information including your last name, first name, phone number, cellular number, email, occupation, home address, website (if you have), company ( if you have), how you found out about the exhibition, and probably other things; I got the students pass so I had to call a friend to remind me of some of the questions for the regular pass. At least it was free though, eh?

When you find you friends (if you came with them) and meet up again, you have to pass a person who asks you for your pass.

I believe you could imagine the problems that could occur throughout this whole ordeal; especially if you live here I’m sure you can.

When passing the security dude who checks for your pass, you have a chance of being stopped by another person who asks you more questions. To this point all I can say is “This is getting really pathetic”

After all this, you’re free to go! Other than the people who walk around and try to give you advertisements, you’re cool.

By the time you get bored of figuring out how the exhibition was laid out, and where was where, you’ll realize that it doesn’t have much planning into it, nor will it seem that it was divided into sections, except for the fact that if it was planned out, it was planned extremely poorly (is this sentence correct grammar wise?)

Though, in the end you will start going with the flow since it was greatly crowded. They also tend to have strong spotlights pointed at the crowds with blaring subwoofers playing Kurdish music or something like that.

Also if you purchase an item or more, to get out you need to show a security guard the receipt, which the seller would probably have forgotten to give you. Like what happened to me.

It has often been said that Newcastle has some of the world’s best beaches. I wouldn’t know about that – I haven’t visited all of them.

What I do know is that having travelled around a lot of Australia, Newcastle is certainly up there with the best that Australia has to offer.

It is hard, in my view, to define just what makes the best beach. I imagine that someone who surfs would have certain criteria that differs from someone like me, who likes the natural beauty of a place more than anything else when it comes to liking a beach.

I think the beaches around the West Australia town of Esperance are simply stunning and I currently rate these as the best beaches in Australia that I have seen. There may well be better beaches, but in my opinion, those of Esperance are better than Newcastle’s beaches. But that opinion includes criteria such as seclusion, natural beauty, etc. For recreational use, access, etc, Newcastle has some brilliant beaches that the locals adore. They are certainly good for a walk along when it isn’t too hot and they aren’t too crowded.

The boy and I went down to NYC today to visit the newly-commissioned USS New York, which is a brand new, state-of-the-art naval warship that used something like 70 tons of steel from the World Trade Center in the construction of its hull. We also stopped by the Intrepid Sea, Air, & Space Museum, which was a big disappointment, considering we paid $20 apiece to get in (well, I got in for $18 because I had my college ID on me). At any rate, while I love the public transportation available (MTA Metro North Rail from up north down to NYC and subway once there) and the little, locally owned and operated shops that line the streets, and the museums every mile or so, I hate almost everything else about NYC.

Yep. Today it was amazingly warm outside (high of near 70) and not a cloud in the sky. Anywhere but NYC and the metro area would have been beautiful. Alas, the pretty blue sky was marred by a blurry bar of brown haze on the horizon, obscuring distant skyscrapers. And the air felt dirty (and was, as I discovered in the shower a couple hours ago) and the heat was too hot for autumn. It felt wrong. And the NOISE, my lord the noise! I mean, I grew up not too far from one of the busiest roads in Fargo where it crossed I-94. Not exactly the quietest place ever. But I have sensitive ears and all the honking, yelling, traffic noise, train/subway noise, was seriously getting to me. It was SO LOUD!

There were a lot of people at the USS New York, not as many as I expected, but still definitely a crush. And I’ve discovered that I get anxious and uncomfortable around large crowds of people. Not so much that I have a panic attack or anything, but enough that I skipped seeing some cool stuff, just to get away from the crowds and into the open air. Ironically, we toured a diesel submarine at the Intrepid and I was not claustrophobic there, but I was when surrounded by people.

So, clearly, I am a country girl (or at least a medium-sized town girl) at heart. I like clean air, trees and grass and wildflowers/weeds, gardens, farms, and wildlife (even if the local wildlife consists of nothing more than squirrels and rabbits and birds – better than just pigeons and seagulls!). I crave sunshine and fresh-smelling air and clear skies and unpolluted waters. I like space – which is what I get for being raised on the prairie, I guess – and lots of it. I can breathe better when I’m alone in the woods or on a mountain or out on the prairie. I don’t feel so boxed in. I can relax better, unfettered and un-anxious and un-crowded in the quiet.

In a previous post I talked about the historical transition America made from a predominantly rural to a predominantly urban/suburban population. And how with that transition, formerly venerated yeomen farmers became hicks, and formerly unhealthy and amoral cities became paragons of learning and virtue (sort of). Now, I can appreciate New York City for it’s buildings, it’s cultural diversity, it’s museums, and it’s history. But most New Yorkers don’t even do that, and they live there! I just honestly don’t understand how people can live so jammed together in such tiny spaces with no greenery (although by the pier we did see a lot of outdoor potted plants, and there were fenced-in ginko trees and such) and no privacy and no space.

*sigh* It’s a good thing I decided not to go to NYU. Yes, a very good thing. Because as much as I love Metro North, that train ride can be a little hellish. Especially when the traincar you’re riding back home on after a long, exhausting day on your feet, is somehow 90 degrees inside and the windows don’t open and there appears to be no air conditioning – none that works, anyway. So yes, I would not want to do that everyday and the people who do are absolutely nuts. Almost as crazy as the people who choose to drive in NYC and don’t get paid to do it. Crazies, I tell you!

And now, after a long and very tiring day, I think it is time for me to go to bed.

ChurchKey

The scene: 6:30 pm on a Friday, at ChurchKey. After spending an hour and a half at the bar, where I saw it go from pretty crowded, but able to get a table for 3 at 5, to so packed I had to squeeze through the sea of people to get to the bathroom, it was time to leave. Before we even finished paying our check, a couple had scored dibs on our table. And, when exiting, I was completely shocked to see not only that the bar was at capacity at 6:30 pm, but there was already a line, at least 20 or 30 deep out the door, waiting to get in. AT 6:30 PM.

So yeah, the anticipation for ChurchKey/Birch and Barley was high, and it’s ridiculously popular now that it’s finally opened. Unbelievably so. You’ve certainly seen all the pretty photos of the interior, and heard about the beer list (PDF file). The beer I had was good, the list was nice (though I was surprised how many pretty common beers  – such as Brooklyn Lager, Allagash White, and Troegs Hopback Amber Ale they had on draft).

The food menu was enticing, but the items we actually ordered we weren’t completely impressed with. We ordered the green eggs and ham (which was actually deviled duck eggs with duck pancetta) – unfortunately we didn’t really like it. First of all, I don’t think they were duck eggs, I’ve bought duck eggs before and they are bigger than chicken’s, with especially bigger yolks. These just looked like regular old chicken eggs. And duck pancetta? I’m not even sure what that actually is, but either way it tasted burnt. However, the arranici caprese we had was quite good. Then again, how can you mess up fried risotto balls?

So, yeah, ChurchKey is as ridiculously popular and crowded as you’ve heard, if not more so. If you want to go, go early and during the week. I look forward to trying their sister restaurant, Birch and Barley on the first floor, sometime soon. I’ll be sure to write about it when I do.

PESHAWAR, Pakistan – Suspected militants exploded a car bomb in a market crowded with women and children Wednesday, killing 105 people and turning shops selling wedding dresses, toys and jewelry into a mass of burning debris and bodies.

Car Blast in Pakistan

The attack in the northwestern city of Peshawar was Pakistan’s deadliest since 2007 and came as U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton visited the country to offer support for its fight against a strengthening al-Qaida and Taliban-led insurgency based along the Afghan border.

Clinton was three hours’ drive away in the capital meeting Pakistani government leaders when the bomb went off in Peshawar. Her trip was not announced in advance in Pakistan for security reasons.

At least 60 of the dead were women and children. Most security analysts said the attack could backfire on the insurgents…

Read More….

Tokyo has many restrictions on where you can park your bike, particularly near stations. They want to discourage bikes blocking the sidewalks while their owners commute on the trains. In crowded neighborhoods like Shibuya, many bikes are parked too long or abandoned. The police come around and collect them. Since all bikes must be registered, the police contact the owners and levy a fine.

One of the most challenging aspects of Italian culture that I have had to get used to is the lack of personal space. If the door is closed it doesn’t mean a thing to Italians. You must LOCK IT! Recently, while at a family gathering I ventured into the bathroom (or as the British would say “toilet”). I couldn’t have been in there 5 minutes total and yet not once but twice someone opened the door on me.

Last night I offered to cook dinner. We have a very small kitchen and yet for some reason everyone (3 adults plus myself) decided it would be a good idea to hang out in the kitchen while I busied myself chopping meat and cooking with very hot oil in an enormous WOK (thank you IKEA).

On a crowded bus someone stole my mobile phone right out of my pocket! No stranger to overstuffed buses in Toronto, I never thought twice when someone pushed up against me as we rattled down the street. Only after I jumped off the bus and put my hand in my pocket did I realize my phone was gone! This of course was compounded by the fact that very same afternoon my friend was to arrive at the Genova airport from Los Angeles and had instructions to call me if there were any unforeseen problems.

To complicate matters even more, my phone was registered in my sister-in-law’s name because at the time I didn’t have my legal documents to get one on my own. I recruited one of my students to call Vodafone and assist me with cancelling the SIM card immediately. Luckily I was able to keep my phone number and get my 25 Euro credit re-instated. But I still had to shell out another 150 Euro for a new phone!

At the supermarket you can always tell someone who drives a scooter because they still have that mentality that it’s okay to narrowly squeeze past everyone to the front of the check out line. Double-parking, I am pretty sure, was also invented by the Italian’s.

So, if it’s personal space you’re after stay in North America. But if you don’t mind rubbing elbows, knees and other unmentionable body parts on buses and are not shy about literally being caught with your pants down, then go ahead, move to Italy and enjoy the experience.

defeated option

Is it a real problem? If so, are the moral aspects of trying to find a solution too heavy a burden to consider? Would we sooner kill the planet and ourselves than to face up to this?

I just got back from AIGA’s Make|Think 2009 Conference in Memphis, Tennessee. I had a great time. I went with a group of friends and current students from Portfolio Center. We were out of town for four days. Other than it being a good idea in general, I decided to go because I wanted a good excuse to get out of state for the first time in years, to meet new people and try to grasp a better understanding of the larger world of design outside of PC and illustration. Most of all, I need to find more work and I figured that a national conference would increase my chances.

First off, I felt a little overwhelmed. There was so much to do and so many people. Even now that I’m back, I still feel overwhelmed with information, feedback and people. I’ve only been to comic/sci-fi conventions before. This was a lot different and more important. I felt like I spent every moment awake doing something or getting the hang of how to navigate the conference center or the city. Personally, that didn’t leave me with a lot of time to mingle and meet people. I think the best thing I did while I was there was participate in the student portfolio review. That is when I got a chance to get my name and cards out to professionals without just being dumbstruck by talking to strangers. I got lots of positive comments at the review. It helped boost my confidence and give me a better perspective on how professionals see my work.

At this very moment, right after the conference, I didn’t walk out with definite work. It’s been only three months since I’ve been out of school and, even now, I am starting to feel a little claustrophobic and stressed. Only three months, but within that time, I’ve done a lot of job shuffling and hustling and I’ve seen my friends grab work and get paid for it while I’m still looking. Part of me wonders what I’m not doing right or if I’m not trying hard enough. Now is not the time to get discouraged. There is never time for that. This weekend gave me a great look at the world of design at large and lots of time listening to the big shots. A lot of what I learned is that, even if it’s not my favorite thing to do, I have to spend more time yackin’ it up and promoting myself. I believe in my work with all my heart and while I would rather be creating more work, no one will know about it unless I tell them. The jobs I’m dreaming of are out there, they just don’t know it yet.

Also, my graduation ceremony is happening this Friday! Most of my friends and family are going to be there and meet each other. This makes me giddy. After the ceremony, we’re heading straight over to the nearest movie theater to see Where The Wild Things Are. It could be more perfect.

I have some fun stories to tell and pictures to share from this weekend later. Look for another update this week.

The cover of my Mohawk sketchbook. I drew all over it. I think they're the Village People.

Dois posta atrás, do meu amigo Pedro, li algo sobre Surf, Esporte dos Deuses, mas faz tempo que já não é mais…

Olha o texto original desse vídeo:

Huge swell in Malibu, 7-24-09 & 7-25-09. Great waves, alot of people, but just having a good time.

Good Time????? Isso aqui no Ceará chama rabeada….

Esse eu já postei, mas além de ter a ver com o tema do post, é sensacional…………a covardia do havaiano batendo no magrinho…

Vai entender por que um cara invadiria uma competição no Hawaii?????

Deveria estar chapado….

Esse outro também é boa………se não for com vc……

Outra coisa que aprendi com esses vídeos, é que no Hawaii não tem turma do deixa disso…..

Esporte dos Deuses?????

Yesterday afternoon (Sunday, the end of the Thanksgiving holiday), I took NJ Transit as usual back into NYC after visiting family in Jersey.  This was the scene at the platform:  haggard travelers ready to be back home after a brief respite.  It was the most crowded NJ Transit platform I had ever seen.  Though it didn’t even come close to how packed the train itself was.  My station was the last one where the conductor could actually maneuver through the aisles to punch tickets.  Those who boarded on the 7 or so stations after mine got a free ride, though they did have to jostle their way into any empty space they could find.  Every vestibule, each aisle, even the lavatories were stuffed with passengers and baggage.  The Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving – even during rush hour out of New York – paled in comparison.

I always wondered why trains haven’t entered into the 21st century and done away with the odd system of having conductors punch passengers’ paper tickets.  NJ Transit ridership may have been up on Sunday, but it didn’t seem like public transportation was reaping the financial benefits of having more riders, at least not on my train.  In fact, ironically, the increased traffic hindered ticket collectors from doing their job.

There’s got to be an allegory about some aspect of America in here somewhere…

PARMA [WMAT NEWS] – An enormous crowd of bargain hunters lined up outside the Toys R Us store on Day drive in Parma.

The sales drew an estimated crowd of anywhere from 1500 to 2000 people.  Parma Police were also called to assist the store workers in crowd and traffic control, as well as respond to calls of people line-jumping.

The rainy weather certainly didn’t damage the spirit of these shoppers. Even those towards the back of the line remained very enthusiastic, hoping to get their hands on some Black Friday bargains.

The person who was first in line at the store told us she had been waiting in line almost six hours before the store opened at midnight, and that she was shopping for her grandkids and some of her family members.

According to the store, the majority of their yearly revenue comes from Black Friday, and the four weeks leading up to Christmas.

©2009 Westcom/WMAT News

Kruger National Park stands as one of the finest examples of wildlife tourism in Africa, and indeed the world. It’s a nature reserve that works, not only in terms of the species it supports and protects, but also in its economic success.

Conservation is simply unviable without profit, and it’s for this reason that Kruger has been able to pioneer many of the more successful modern conservation efforts. But does this come at a price?

The park owes its success to a number of factors; size, location, management, but above all, marketing. Kruger is sold as an accessable experience for everyone, from camping to luxury lodges to caravans. Whereas many of the other large Southern African parks rely on low-density, high-cost tourism (think Okavango), Kruger attracts the other end (almost) of the spectrum as well.

In a separate blog I mentioned my frustration in India at not being able to look for tigers and green pigeons on my own terms. For me, a large part of the magic of nature reserves is simply looking. There’s no guarantee you’ll see a leopard, or a lion, or even an elephant, but if you do then it’s you who found it. In an area the size of a small country it was you who tracked down that elusive rhino (because they’re not round every corner, trust me) and it was you who just happened to look down a side track and spot a prowling young lion.

Ask any visitor to Kruger and not everyone, hardly anyone, will be able to honestly tell you just that – “I spotted it first.” The park is packed with animals, relatively speaking, but it’s also packed with people looking for animals. In truth, most people see the cars first and whatever they’re looking at second.

The point was driven home on a recent trip to the park when, rushing to arrive before gate closing time (Kruger Rush Syndrome’s a whole post in itself) we stumbled across a line of about seven or eight cars – what anywhere else would be a traffic jam. It was minutes before we caught a glimpse (fleeting) of the juvenile male lion padding along the road in front. A hundred metres in front.

Now, while the absence of any horn-blasting or verbal abuse made it the most orderly traffic jam I’d ever experienced, we were effectively queuing up to see this lion. The friend I’d brought along had never seen a lion before so I was glad to check it off the to-see list but I found myself questioning whether this wasn’t just the same as trawling through any one of those artificial European ’safari parks’.

Ok, so the lions hadn’t been planted, but I felt that by the time eighth in line became first I had no real enthusiasm. I certainly didn’t feel like I’d achieved anything in terms of the hunt.

Perhaps I’m just a little too picky. There can be only one real way to conserve our wild areas and that is through education – widespread exposure to animals and plants scarcely found outside park fences. If the cost of doing this is an eight-car queue then so be it.

It’s almost certainly a price worth paying.