Ape Blues.

Africa is so many things, but one of the first things I think of when people ask me about my recent trip there is the F@$%ING BABOONS.  It's no secret that the wildlife is perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of this place, but hell, I was not prepared for the non-romantic aspect of my jolly holiday in the wild kingdom.

Janni and I were in Storms River, South Africa hiking in the Tsitsikamma National Park, along the coast.  It is breathtakingly beautiful, you get to weave through lush jungle before you emerge to the craziest coastline I have ever seen (above!).  While we were in the jungle-y portion, I had my head down examining the ground the entire way up.  You see, we had just heard some paralyzingly scary stories about black mamba snakes, how they can rise up 6 ft to strike you, and how a mere glance of a fang can leave you asphyxiated and dead in 15 minutes.  The locals were telling us that they kill lions and entire herds of cattle.  Soooooooo I was focused on the snakes, which was not a simple task given that the terrain was covered in smooth ground vines and roots.  Everything looked like a big gray snake.  I was doing a particularly good job of this as we came a down a section of the path when Janni grabbed my shirt and hissed "MINGNI.  Do you not SEE where you are going."  Umm, no.  What?  Oh, that.

I was literally about to kick him in the tush.  He sat about the height of my nose like that, and was the ugliest shade of gray.  I felt totally weird about it, but he glanced our way and seemed unimpressed and unbothered by our presence on the trail.  

So depending on where you grow up, you learn the wildlife tricks for survival, right?  Be big and make noise around mountain lions, play dead for bears.  Don't touch sharks.  rightrightright.  Well we don't know what to do about baboons!

So we called the hostel (they call them backpackers) so ask about what we should do.  This guy was sitting squarely in the middle of the trail, we had already made a few hours progress, and I am not one to allow wildlife to foil my plans.  The guys at the backpackers were also unimpressed, and breezily told us to just stay a healthy distance and leave them alone.  Well what does that mean?!

We were about to find out.  As we started getting brave and moseying closer to this furry gargoyle in attempt to coax him elsewhere, a pack of other baboons all drop to the ground from the trees.  There were probably 6-8 of them, smaller and daintily formed.  They all had at least a few babies on their back.  They were not pleased to see us.  Groan.  The moms all saw us immediately and GEEZ their expressions are so human-like!  I could tell immediately that they were angered and threatened.  I scurried backward down the trail past Janni while she rolled her eyes.  As I turned back to respond to her lack of urgency, I could see a few of them tearing down the trail toward us.  I yelled at her to run, and the two of us scampered farther until they were out of sight.  Perhaps it was a hasty reaction, but I just kept imagining this scene from Disney's Tarzan, where Jane gets descended upon by hundreds of rabid baboons, and has to be plucked to safety via swinging vines and cliff jumping.  I was not about to become victim to another Disney Damsel-in-Distress scenario.  

We ended up playing push and shove with these guys for 40 minutes, sneaking down the trail and just waiting for them to move on until the path was clear.  The babies were just too cute, playing and rolling around in the underbrush.  The adults were all business, pulling branches down and munching loudly on the leaves they yanked off.  

As our trip progressed, the relationship between us and the babs never improved.  They were everywhere, basically rude criminals wherever we went.  Because their hands are shaped like ours, they are able to use everything we do, and you could plainly see them opening car doors, doorknobs, backpack zippers, and fence latches.  They're irritatingly smart as well, and we couldn't even carry groceries in the street without them knowing and wanting to approach us.  They're also emotionally abusive!  We heard stories about how they would break into people's house and trash the kitchen, without even eating anything.  They just wanted to make a mess.  What assholes, eh?

See the rest of my Africa pictures, including the not to be missed Tsitsikamma National Park here.