tonypark.net

A nice story about Africa, social media, and the speed of global communications

2012-01-27T17:41:00.006+11:00

So, there I was, in a lovely house on a farm in Letsitele, a small South African town with a big output of citrus fruit.

Just as I was finishing my (third) sundowner and we were all preparing to go into dinner my mobile phone rang. I excused my self and answered it. "Hello, Tony speaking."

"Hello," said an African voice, "are you the owner of this phone?"

Groan. The phone company calling me to try and make me spend more money, I thought. "Of course I'm the owner of this phone. Goodb..."

"No, sorry, the owner of this phone, the one I am calling from, not your phone. Do you know him."

Now I was confused. Did I know who? This was like Abbott and Costello's who's on first. I took the phone away from my ear and looked at the number. It had a country code of +254. Something clicked. "Ah," I said, "You want to know if I know who owns the phone you are calling from?"

"Yes."

"What's your name, and where are you?"

"My name is Jackson," said the caller, "I am a security guard in a village market in Nairobi. A man has been having lunch here and he has left his phone. I am busy calling all the numbers in his phone to see if someone knows who he is."

"Mzungu?" (White person).

"Yes, sir."

The wheels of my mine whirred. I know of only one white man who would be in Nairobi, and who would have consumed enough Tusker beer at a long lunch to cause him to forget to pick up his phone. "I'm sure I know this man. Thank you for calling, Jackson, and for your honesty. I will get a message to this man and try and get him to call you. Please leave the phone switched on."

"It is my pleasure," he said.

We ended the call and Mrs Blog asked what all that was about. I explained to her and my South African friends, who were mightily impressed that Jackson hadn't just pocketed the phone or sold it. "So whose phone is it?" Mrs B asked.

"It has to be JR."

JR is a good friend who I met, virtually via email, when researching my first book, FAR HORIZON. Like Mike Williams, the lead character in the book, JR was an Australian Army officer serving with the UN in Mozambique, clearing land mines. While there he fell in love with Africa (and, as it turned out, one of her inhabitants). While JR's heart may be in southern Africa (and with his beloved), his ass has belonged to a series of military contracting companies who have sent him to such charming places as Afghanistan and Somalia. I knew that he often went to Nairobi on business.

Looking at the number in the 'received calls' on my phone I also knew it was him, for sure, because he had called me from Somalia only a couple of months ago, when I was on tour promoting my new book, 'AFRICAN DAWN'. I was speaking at Exclusive Books in Nelspruit, South Africa, at 6.30pm one evening and at precisely 6.37pm my phone buzzed in my pocket. Fortunately I had switched the ringer to silent.

After the talk I checked my phone and saw an SMS from JR's Kenyan phone that read: "I hope you remember to switch your phone to silent when speaking in public". That's the sort of zany funster he is.

"If he doesn't have his phone," Mrs B asked, "then how are you going to contact him?"

"Facebook." We used Mrs Blog's phone to get online and send JR a message on Facebook telling him to call his own phone and advising him it was in safe custody. I was fairly sure he would be travelling with a laptop."

He did, and he got his phone back, and Jackson supplemented his no doubt meagre pay with a nice little reward.

Result.

Out and about in Kruger

2012-01-13T17:22:00.001+11:00

Piglet patrol, Skukuza.

Game drives in kruger

2012-01-11T06:53:00.001+11:00

Stompie the tuftless lion and some snoozy rhinos.

Save a rhino - drinks included.

2012-01-09T18:57:00.004+11:00

I wouldn't want you to think that my life revolves around alcohol - it doesn't. It more revolves around alcohol, writing, and travelling in Africa. All seem to complement each other nicely, I find.

I don't write under the influence of alcohol, but I have been known to extract the old digit and write faster as 4pm approaches. That, here in Africa, is knock-off time for me, and commencement of the sundowner beverage service.

In fact, I usually try to finish writing well before that, but lay off the sauce until 4. Well, sometimes.

I copped a bit of stick on Facebook recently for admitting that my tipple of choice (at the time) was Castle Lite. Whichever South African oke at SA Breweries came up with that name deserves to be dipped in a fondue of boiling hippo pooh. The 'lite' in Castle Lite refers to the fact that it is 'lite' in things that make you fat, such as carbohydrates.

It is not - let me say this again - not a low-alcohol beer. Its alcohol content is four per cent, the same as the very agreeable Windhoek Lager, which in times past has been my favourite African drop. Sadly, when ill-informed people see me drinking 'Lite' beer they think I am a nancy boy.

I am not. I'm just a middle aged man with a beer belly, which is why I like low carbohydrate beer. Sometimes. I'm getting a bit over it now, however.

In fact, I am currently ploughing my way through a couple of cases (slabs) of Dois M, a champion and very full-strength macho beach beer from Mozambique. I brought it back from a recent two-week trip up the Indian Ocean coast. This is the stuff that Alex the Pirate (in IVORY) and Mike Williams (from FAR HORIZON) would chug while braaiing some prawns, shooting some bad guys, and trying to seduce some comely beach chick.

The trouble now, however, is that I'm back in the bush, in the Kruger Park, not on a Mozambican beach eating prawns and lobsters to my heart's content. (Nor shooting people or seducing beach chicks, on the odd chance that Mrs Blog reads this post). A refreshing (i.e. watery) beer in a giant man-sized 440ml can is perfect for the beach, but not so the bush.

I've switched back to my other current favourite - Miller Genuine Draft. I know, it's not very African (although this iconic American brand is now owned by the aforementioned SA Breweries). It's light (not 'Lite'), full-strength, and the contents of the 330ml bottle don't have time to get warm before you get to the end. In short, a perfect bush beer.

And it's cheap. Well, compared to Australia it's cheap.

People in South Africa, like people everywhere around the world, like to whinge about the cost of living going up. And it is. I'm not denying that, or the fact that many people are feeling the pinch. But when it comes to alcohol the good folk of the R of SA must realise that they are very lucky to have a president who not only is a good dancer and chick magnet, but who is smart enough to keep the tax on booze to virtually zero.

This may shock some of you Aussies, but let me put this in perspective for you. I bought a case of 24 cans of beer the other day and it cost me R122. At the current exchange rate, that is about AUD$15. Yes, $15.

Now, South Africans, eyes to me... a case of Aussie beer would cost the equivalent, from a bottle shop, of R320. Yes, R320.

And people ask me why I love South Africa so much?

When it comes to wine the differences are even more pronounced. You can buy a very nice, drinkable bottle of South African wine for around R30. This is less than AUD$4. If you could buy a bottle of wine for $4 in Australia, which you can't, it would make you go blind. South Africans, you may not believe me, but in Australia it is not unusual for people to pay around R80 ($10) for a GLASS of wine in a pub.

Which leads me, in a roundabout way, but inevitably, to the actual subject of this blog post. Do gooding.

One of the things I'm most proud/pleased about as a result of writing books is that I get invited to help out at fundraising for worthy charities, usually with an African bent. I have a policy of 1. only supporting functions where I know that the funds raised are going direct to the people who need them most and who can do the most with them, and 2. only speaking at functions where alcohol is involved - preferably included in the cost. I find people are much more likely to laugh at my funny stories and buy my books if they are inebriated.

So, I was more than happy to agree to my first function of 2012, a fund raising dinner being organised by the delightful Tammie Matson from Animal Works. Animal Works supports wildlife conservation programs in Africa and India and Tammie is slanting this function towards raising funds for rhino conservation in Zimbabwe.

Best of all, I don't have to do all the talking. In fact, Tammie is bringing together four authors of books about Africa at the dinner - her (she wrote the brilliant 'Dry Water' about her time as a wildlife researcher in Zimbabwe and Namibia, and I'm looking forward to reading her new book, Elephant Dance); the delightful Sally Henderson (Silent Footsteps and Ivory Moon); Peter Allison, whose popular book about his experiences as a safari guide 'Whatever you do Don't Run' would be the poorer without the scene where a mouse burrows into his bottom for warmth (as if); and me.

The Animal Works 'Imagine Africa' dinner is to be held at Ripples Restaurant, Deck C, Chowder Bay Road, Mosman (that's in Sydney, not in Africa), from 6.30pm on Wednesday, February 22. Bookings: call Ripples on 99603000 or email Tammie at tammiekmatson@gmail.com

The cost is $95 per head, but before you say 'no, that's too much, even for Zimbabwe and the rhinos', let me point out that this includes a $50 donation to the charity, and the other $45 covers dinner, a glass of bubbles on arrival, and red and white wine during the meal. Given the price of drinks in Sydney I reckon $45 for a meal and wine - hell, even the full $95 - is pretty good. Plus, you get to ask Peter about the mouse.

A monumental experience

2011-12-18T01:56:00.003+11:00

Here's a picture of a cheetah, next to what appears to be a termite mound with a slit in it but which is, in fact, a man-made underground viewing hide.

There are two people inside the hide. The cheetah seems to be saying, hmmm, I love these things, crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside.

Who, you might ask, would be so silly as to sit in such a thing, with an esky (cooler box) full of beer while wild animals come and stick their faces, trunks and other bits and bobs through the aforementioned hole?

For the answer, I urge you all to waste a little more time and click through to my Getaway Magazine blog here. There's a report on my recent travels in Zimbabwe and my stay at 'The Hide', one of the most beautiful game lodges I've ever been to.

As for the here and now, I'm in the gold mining town of Barberton, where I believe The Power of One was set. I don't know for sure, as I saw the movie and didn't read the book. I'm doing a bit of research for Book 10.

Bom dia

2011-12-16T02:42:00.001+11:00

Which means, i think, good morning in portuguese.
My iphone seems to have given up on facebook so i'm trying to blog from it now. Excuse the typos and lack of capitals (and words) as i'm using the infuriatingly tiny keyboard.

Mrs blog and i are now back in south africa after 10 lovely days on the beach in mozambique. I shall now attempt to post a pic or two.

Should they materialise they are, in whatever order and wherever they appear, of my 'office' overlooking the beach at ponta da barra near inhambane (the office being our campsite) and a fetching shot of a goat hitching a lift on a truck bound for the capital, maputo.

A nice review from The Times

2011-11-09T20:25:00.006+11:00

Greetings, all, from the very hot Biyamiti Bushveld Camp in the Kruger National Park. As I type this I'm watching 20 elephants and four buffalo jostling for position in the remaining pools in the Biyamiti River, just on the other side of the camp fence.

It doesn't get much better than that, my LOF (Legion of Fans... all three of you) unless, of course, you get a generally favourable review of your latest book in a UK daily broadsheet, such as The Times. And looky here what just appeared, last weekend.....

The Times,
Saturday, November 5
Book Reviews, Fiction
Peter Millar

Tony Park has set himself the mammoth task of re-creating a quite different world, also going from bad times to worse, in African Dawn, a sprawling family history of Rhodesia-Zimbabwe from the 1950s to the present day. We start with the 1959 protests about bus fares that highlighted the plight of unempowered native Africans in their own country, and continue through to the brutal expulsions of white farmers from what they, in turn, considered their ancestral lands in recent years.

There are a few stereotypes in the wronged black child who goes on to become a corrupt evil warlord and big-game poacher, the womanising gun-slinging colonial who goes off the rails, his hard-done-by introverted brother and two generations of up-for-it plucky gals. But there is probably some truth in all of them.

The anthropomorphising of a loner black rhino calf jars at first but he goes on to become an important leitmotif running through a half century of blood-soaked history. Park’s obvious role model is that great master of the colonial epic, Wilbur Smith, whose fans will not be disappointed to have found their spiritual heir.

Some big words in there, but not bad, eh? (I'd probably prefer to be Wilbur's actual monetary heir, rather than spiritual heir, but I'll take whatever I can get).

Back from the Wilderness

2011-10-25T23:07:00.006+11:00

I've just had a fantastic couple of weeks in the wilds of Zambia and Zimbabwe and have now returned to the land of tar roads, airconditioning and Wimpy - The Republic of South Africa (that, incidentally was how a South African expat living in Uganda disparagingly referred to his homeland to me a few years ago. Myself, I see nothing wrong with tar roads, air conditioning and Wimpy bars).

Anyway, down to business first. I will be shamelessly spruiking the South African release of my latest book AFRICAN DAWN at a few bookstore events in Johannesburg and Nelspruit in the next couple of weeks. Sorry for the short notice, but hope you can make it to one of the following (oh, and please check timings with the stores concerned as I've been known to get these wrong in the past!!)

Wednesday, 2 November 6pm for 6.30pm

Exclusive Books The Glen
Shop M13 Fountain Court
The Glen Shopping Centre
Cnr Orpen & Letaba Road Oakdene
RSVP: theglen@exclusivebooks.co.za

Thursday, 3 November 6.30pm for 7pm

Novel Books
Shop F8a, Hobart Grove Shopping Centre,
Cnr. Hobart and Grosvenor Roads
Bryanstan
RSVP: 011 463 9320 or novelbooks@vodamail.co.za

Thursday, 10 November 6pm for 6.30pm

Exclusive Books Nelspruit
Riverside Mall, White River Road
RSVP: nelspruit@exclusivebooks.co.za

I'm madly catching up with emails and have just sent out a new newsletter and I'm trying to get back into blogging (hence this quick post).

I have, in fact, just posted a fairly lengthy blog on our recent travels in Zambia which you can read on my Getaway Blog here

I'll catch up with all the news soon, but in the meantime I thought I'd share just a very few pics from our recent travels, in no particular order...

Snapped this fleet footed impala and rhino at the marvellous Marakele National Park in South Africa. Amazingly (for a South African park) the camping ground is unfenced and the rhinos here wander into the camping ground - as do ostrich, wildebeest and various other critters.

We saw this magnificent male lion in Madikwe Game Reserve while staying with our friends Paul and Julia who work in the very agreeable Jaci's Lodge

As in previous years I'll be blogging soon about this year's annual game census in Zimbabwe's Hwange National Park. This lioness (above) and her sister killed a Zebra during the night while we were counting animals. We came across her the next morning and she charged our Land Rover twice before dragging her kill deeper into the bush. Great to see lions in the Robins area and our friends who accompanied us later had three separate lion sightings in Hwange's Main Camp area. Who said there were no animals left in Hwange? (Not me).

Moon rising over Hwange National Park during the game census (above).

Here's a little taste of some of the great game viewing we had at The Hide private
game lodge in Hwange after the game census. I'll save it for a future blog, but suffice it to say I had one of the most amazing game viewing experiences of my life at The Hide. A fantastic place.

Well, that's it for now, but I promise I will be back.

Some pictures

2011-09-22T23:16:00.002+10:00

Greetings from Skukuza Camp in the Kruger National Park. I posted some pics from my Flickr account here over on facebook, but if you're not on facebook then click on that 'here' back then for a look.

I'm finding facebook easy to use, particularly the mobile uploads of pictures, but it's also quite limiting, which is why I promise I'll keep coming back to the blog. I thought I might use the space here to give a bit of background to some of the pictures.

The wild dogs were a trio we came across on an early drive from Pretoriuskop to Skukuza about a week ago. It's always a thrill to see the dogs as they're usually active - sniffing each other and anything manky they can find in the bush; running and jumping and playing as they limber up for a kill; and they're completely at ease around cars and often quite curious. Mrs Blog and I thought these guys were looking for the rest of their pack as they were making this weird high pitched noise, almost like mooing. We'd heard dogs whining and yelping before, but never this sound.

The waterbuck (big shaggy grey antelope with curved horns) pics were taken at Transport Dam, scene of the famous 'Battle At Kruger' video on Youtube. If by chance you haven't seen it, it's well worth a look. Transport Dam was also where I took the pic of the Blacksmith Plover (at least I think that's what it is) dive bombing the African Fish Eagle.

The Grey Heron (that's the grey bird) taking off; the tiny brightly coloured Malachite Kingfisher with the red beak; and the Crake (little brown bird with yellow beak) watching the baby croc slide into the water, were all taken at the fantastic Lake Panic Bird Hide near Skukuza. This is one of my favourite bird spotting spots in Africa. There's always something going on there.

The hippos and the pics of Broomas, our trusty white 1997 300Tdi Land Rover Defender were all taken on the Madlabantu 4x4 adventure trail, near Pretoriuskop Camp in the south of Kruger. The 4x4 adventure trails are actually not really 4x4 trails or all that adventurous, but they are great fun. There are a few of these trails in Kruger - basically secondary bush roads and fire trails formerly only accessible to national parks vehicles. The good thing about them, though, is that they give tourists (like us) access to remote areas, away from the rest of the traffic in Kruger (principally because you have to pay R460 - about AUD$65 for the day to use the trail). It's worth the money as you can explore on your own, get out of your vehicle when you want to, and generally feel like Lord Jim of Africa, master of your own domain. The hippos were in a pool we had to ford through (I say 'ford' like it was a big deal, but the water at the crossing point was maybe 25 cm deep). The hippos were very close, though.

Mrs Blog took the rhino shots and I particularly like the one with the giraffe in the background.

Finally, the leopard shots were a couple of old ones still on the camera from my last Readers' Safari to South Africa back in July. I took these on a game drive out of the absolutely sublime Kirkman's Kamp in the Sabi Sand private game reserve on the edge of Kruger. We had a ball on that trip and plans are afoot for more trips, possibly in 2012, and almost certainly in 2013. Feel free to drop me a line via my website or on facebook if you're interested in joining me in Africa on a tour some time.

Oh, yes, and last of last the helicopter is a South African National Parks aircraft. Mrs B and I watched it circling a rhino just near the Diospane Road on the way to Skukuza one morning last week. In the back, with his dart gun (you won't really be able to make him out in this pic) is Kruger Park veterinarian Dr Peter Buss. Peter's a great guy who helped me a good deal with some of my research for my latest book, 'AFRICAN DAWN'.

Must get back to work now. Oh, and if you're not my friend on facebook yet please feel free to befriend me here.

AFRICAN DAWN, coming soon the UK and South Africa

2011-09-17T22:41:00.002+10:00

Yes, I know it's been a long time since I blogged, but I've been busy writing a 1oth novel, OK? (The ninth is being edited and is due out next year).

First up, I just like to see a very big and very humble thank you to every in Australia and New Zealand who bought a copy of my latest book AFRICAN DAWN. It's because of you that I am where I am in the Nielsen Bookscan Top 10 list (above). As my publisher in the UK at Quercus Books said to me in a very nice email today, "if you can't trumpet number one, then what's left to shout about?"

I'm not sure where I sit in the overall fiction Top 10 (the list above is Australian fiction), but I do know that a couple of weeks ago I was number 2 overall behind some fellow named Patterson, or something like that.

I'm also very pleased to announce that AFRICAN DAWN will be released in the UK and South Africa very soon - in October, in fact. Here's the cover for the UK/RSA edition...

I'm currently tapping away on my laptop in the Kruger National Park in South Africa. I've been dabbling a bit on facebook so if you haven't befriended me there, please feel free to do so.

I also have good intentions of blogging more. Mrs Blog and I are off to Botswana, Zambia and Zimbabwe soon and I should have much to write about from this trip, although it's usually quite hard for me to connect to the internet in all three of those countries. Stay tuned...

First review of African Dawn, and it's a keeper.

2011-08-14T17:46:00.003+10:00

This was in the Daily Telegraph (Sydney), on Saturday, August 13. (Click on the review to make it bigger).

The perfect gift for the man who has everything

2011-08-13T17:02:00.002+10:00

I don't want for much in life. I have a beautiful wife, the best job in the world, a 1997 300Tdi Land Rover Defender, and I get to live half the year in the two best places in the world - Australia and Africa.

I'm not really into 'stuff', but I've got just about all the gadgets I can think of that make travelling in Africa possible and comfortable. So it's not easy when it comes to buying me presents. Mrs Blog struggles, although she did come up with a corker recently, a Garmin GPS running watch for my birthday.

This is a fantastic gadget, although it's doing its best to kill me. I like running, but it wasn't until I got my watch that I knew just how far I was running, and how fast. Now whenever I go for a run I know what my last speed was, and I've been trying to increase my pace. I've posted a few of these runs on facebook, as after I've finished I'm able to upload a map of the run and all the details about pace and calories burned etc to the internet, for a fascinated worldwide audience to devour. Whether or not anyone else cares about my running prowess or not, I do... and I am, to put it simply, knackered this week after pushing myself to a number of personal bests.

But enough about running and more about gift giving.

I'm into the second week of my round (parts of) Australia and New Zealand book tour, to promote my latest novel AFRICAN DAWN. I've been having a good time and meeting lots of readers and booksellers and librarians (all of whom are my favourite people).

It's not required, by any means, but often when I've given a talk the bookseller or library who organised it will present me with a gift. Often it's a bottle of wine or a book, and these are just the perfect gifts for me as I love reading and drinking to excess.

There's not much else I could have imagined a book talk organiser giving me, so imagine how surprised I was when the lovely people from Beaumaris Books in Victoria gave me an AIRSICKNESS BAG!

I don't know if you can imagine how thrilled I was because... and this is the first time I have revealed this publicly (other than at Beaumaris), I collect spew bags.

Yes. True.

Cheryl from Beaumaris Books had, unknown to me, contacted my ace former publicist (she's just left Macmillan, sadly) Louise, and asked her if there was anything quirky I might like as a gift. I suppose it doesn't get any quirkier than Barf Bags, but that's what Louise suggested. I didn't even remember I'd told her about my collection. I must have been drunk at the time.

Cheryl presented me with a King Island Air airsickness bag which she was safe in thinking I did not have in my collection. When I got home to Sydney I decided I must get out my (what is the collective noun for vommit bags?) 'retch' of bags. I was surprised to see I had more than 40 of them and, decided I must lay them out on the carpet and gaze upon them in all their glory.

I don't really remember why I started collecting barf bags. It's not like I've had great need for them, although I have been guilty of losing my lunch a couple of times on military aircraft - specifically while pushing things and myself out of the back of the old CCO8 Caribou twin engine transports the Royal Australian Air Force used to fly.

These aircraft had a reputation for being very bumpy in turbulence, but my mishaps were usually alcohol related, as in the olden days of irresponsible drinking in the Army Reserve we did give the booze a bit of a nudge on training weekends. I remember going on one flight that was so rough the pilots were tossing their cookies while trying to hold the aircraft steady!

Still, nauseous nostalgia aside, each of the bags in the collection reminded me of a past travel adventure. Or sometimes not... Pictured below is what I imagine is now a highly sought-after air sickness bag in the world of airsickness bag collecting as it's from the now defunct Lauda Air, an Australian airline set up by former Formula 1 driver Niki Lauda. I just wish I could remember when and where I flew on Lauda Air. Perhaps this memory is alcohol-related as well.

I found several bags from Red Rat Airlines (aka our national carrier, Qantas) including this rather retro gem featuring the old winged kangaroo airline. I like the pattern too, which would seem to scream some time in 70s. However, in the 70s my family was too poor to fly Qantas (or any other airline for that matter), so I wonder where this one came from.

In fact, it was seeming to me that rather than bringing back memories of past flights this collection could have belonged to someone else, but then the haze started to clear.

I remember grabbing this little number because I thought I might need it on a flight to the MULL OF KINTYRE! Yes. I actually flew to the Mull of Kintyre in Scotland on a British Royal Air Force C-130 Hercules aircraft in 1993. Mrs Blog and I lived in the UK for a year where I worked as a journalist on a country paper in Buckinghamshire and spent weekends serving with the British Territorial Army (their version of the army reserve) on attachment as an Army air dispatcher. As in Australia my job back then was pushing stuff out of aeroplanes.

I remember thinking it would be quite embarrassing if I threw up on that flight as the plane was full of British SAS men. What I didn't realise until I had a closer look at their top secret special forces Land Rovers while I was unloading them on the Mull of Kintyre airstrip was that these were actually the SAS's elite cooks. Their vehicles included pots and pans and cookers and leaked dirty chip oil on to the Hercules' floor and my face as I scrambled underneath to release the tie down chains holding them in place. So, in hindsight, I guessed that as Army chefs they were used to seeing soldiers throw up and wouldn't have been overly offended if I had been airsick.

I love this NATO-issue air force air sickness bag, because it's called, in true military ass-backwards fashion, a 'Bag, Air Sickness', and has instructions for use by simple soldiers. Classic.

Here's one (above) that definitely reminds me of a memorable trip - my first holiday overseas as a 21-year-old, to Vietnam. Back in 1985 Vietnam was not nearly as open to travellers as it is these days and I had to be shepherded everywhere by secret policemen disguised as tour guides.

I flew Vietnam Airlines from Saigon to Da Nang in a Russian Dropawingoff twin-engined rust bucket. The seatback of the seat I was in refused to return from the recline position and rested, broken, in the lap of the polite passenger behind me for the entire flight. I sat, or rather perched, next to a veteran of the liberation war dressed in a sharp Russian suit and we conversed in school boy french about how bad the Devon sandwich in the inflight meal was, and why the petit coffee cups looked liked they'd come from a child's tea set.

I have some other classic air sickness bags that did bring back some fond memories. There was the one from Tarom Airlines, Romania's national carrier that Mrs Blog and I had the great misfortune to travel on. Tarom had (and if it's still flying no doubt still has) the worse safety record in the air.

We were upgraded to First Class on a trip from Bucharest to Istanbul becuas the plane was triple booked, but as we weren't paying as first class passengers the bee-hived flight attendant in our cabin refused to serve us. Instead, she sat in a seat across the aisle in the otherwise empty compartment (if you can afford to fly first class on Tarom you fly economy on some other airline), and glared at us throughout the flight.

I also found a bag from Merpati, an Indonesian airline so unreliable that it's unofficial slogan is 'It's Merpati and they'll fly if they want to, fly if they want to'.

Like I said, I don't really remember why I started this collection, or why I've held on to it, but if you're ever stuck for a gift for me, give the gift that will keep coming up, as long as people drink and fly.

(NB: Attention libraries and booksellers, I'm short of a Virgin Blue bag).

See me, hear me... please!

2011-08-01T11:21:00.003+10:00

NEWSLASH: PLEASE NOTE THE JOONDALUP (WA) LIBRARY TALK ON AUGUST 16 IS 6.00PM, NOT 6.30PM AS PREVIOUSLY ADVERTISED.

I'm about to embark on a tour of (parts of) Australia and New Zealand. Forgive me if I'm not coming to your state (sorry Queensland... don't take it personally as I love your weather, if not your beer).

Here's where I'll be...

MONDAY AUGUST 8TH, 2011

MELBOURNE - Beaumaris

7PM Author Talk

Host: Beaumaris Books

Venue: Malt Café,

23 - 35 South Concourse, Beaumaris

Phone: 03 9589 4638

TUESDAY AUGUST 9TH, 2011

SHEPPARTON

7.00PM Author Talk

Host: Collins Shepparton

Venue: The Attik (upstairs at Letizia's restaurant)

67 Fryers Street, Shepparton

Contact: Geoff

Email: collinshepp@mcmedia.com.au

Phone: 03 5831 1161

*Refreshments to be served*

WEDNESDAY AUGUST 10TH, 2011

SYDNEY - Mosman

7.00PM Author Talk

Host: Mosman Library

Venue: Mosman Library, Library Walk, 605 Military Road, Mosman

Phone: 02 9969 9736 / 0422 127 401

THURSDAY AUGUST 11TH, 2011

SYDNEY - Castle Hill

7.30PM Author Talk

Castle Hill Library

14 Pennant Street, Castle Hill

TUESDAY AUGUST 16TH, 2011

PERTH

6.00PM Author Talk

Host: Dymocks Joondalup

Venue: Joondalup Library

102 Boas Avenue, Joondalup

Phone: 08 9300 0895

WEDNESDAY AUGUST 17TH, 2011

PERTH
1PM Author Talk

Host: Mandurah Library

331 Pinjarra Road, Mandurah

PERTH
7.00PM Cocktail function

Painted Dog Conservation Charity Event

Hyatt Regency Perth

99 Adelaide Terrace, Perth

Contact: John Lemon

Email: lemonj@ozemail.com.au

THURSDAY AUGUST 18TH, 2011

ADELAIDE
3.30PM Book Signing

Castle Plaza Bookshop

Castle Plaza Shopping Centre

992 South Road, Edwardstow

ADELAIDE - Marion Cultural Centre

7.30PM Author Talk

Host:Marion Cultural Centre

Venue: Marion Cultural Centre

287 Diagonal Road, Oaklands Park

Contact: Jenny Newman (Adult Program & Events Coordinator)

Email: jenny.newman@marion.sa.gov.au

Phone: 08 8375 6754

SATURDAY & SUNDAY 20TH/21ST AUGUST 2011,

MUDGEE

Mudgee Readers' Festival

See http://www.mudgeereadersfestival.com.au/ for program.

TUESDAY AUGUST 23RD 2011

N EW ZEALAND - TAUPO

5:30PM Author talk and signing Taupo Paper Plus

Very limited numbers.

Tickets only $10 from Paper Plus,

41 - 43 Heu Heu St,

Taupo. Ph 07 378 5838

WEDNESDAY AUGUST 24TH 2011

NEW PLYMOUTH, NZ

5:30PM Author talk Benny's Bookstore

please collect your ticket at Benny's

Books, seats are limited.

Wine and nibbles provided.

21-23 Devon St East

New Plymouth

06 7594350 or

info@bennysbooks.co.nz

FRIDAY AUGUST 26th, 2011

AUCKLAND NZ

12.00pm Bar Africa Restaurant,

1B William Pickering Drive, Albany

Cost: $25 (buffet lunch plus glass of wine or beer)

Tickets available from Paper Plus Glenfield, ph: 441 7084

or Bar Africa Restaurant.

Readers' safari Part 2 - Kirkman's Kamp to Kaapstad.

2011-07-18T01:33:00.015+10:00

Before we left Imbali Private Game Lodge the members of my readers' tour were able to tick off a couple more of the Big Five, namely, a nice relaxed herd of elehants we came across at dusk (above), and a couple of herds of Buffalo.

From Imbali we travelled through the Kruger National Park and exited the park via a gate behind the old Skukuza Airport, which lead to the Sabi Sand Game Reserve.

The Sabi Sand is one of a number of private game reserves strung alond Kruger's western border, forming what's known as the Great Kruger National Park. The Sabi Sand is the stuff of legend when it comes to game viewing and the area has a reputation as a prime leopard spotting destination. I'd never been there until this tour.

For those who can't be bothered reading the last post, or tuning into my drunken ravings on Facebook (I'm worried now that I've learned to upload photos and post from my iphone), I've been hosting a tour of readers of my books from Australia and New Zealand around South Africa with my friend and partner in crime Wayne from the Africa Safari Co.

The Sabi Sand lies between the Sabie and the Sand Rivers and our destination was Kirman's Kamp (yes, with a 'K'). Kirkmans is run by a company called &Beyond (yes, with an ampersand) which manages a number of premier safari properties around Africa. I'd stayed at another of their camps a few years ago, so I was ready to be suitably impressed.

In fact, KK (Kirkman's Kamp, not former NSW Premier Kristina Keneally) blew me away.

The layout and buildings of the camp were quite unlike other posh (and not so posh) private safari camps where I've stayed. The camp is arrayed around an old farm house, once the home of a man named Harry Kirkman, who was famous for failing at cattle farming, succeeding at killing lots of lions, and infamous for his taste in headgear (all of the pictures of him around the house show him wearing a pointy had with a leopard skin pugaree).

Thankfully there's not more killing of lions or making hatbands out of leopards, on Kirkman's property (actually called Toulon) these days. Instead, guests lounge in the big house - a mix of colonial bric a brac and sleek, sympathetic modern additions - and dine on truly pukkah cuisine in its courtyard (and get sloshed in the bar before and after). Accomodation is in a line of rooms overlooking the Sand River.

In between all of that eating and drinking (and there is a lot of both), the real business of the visit takes place - game viewing.

As with our time at Imbali it was bitterly cold, but there was less of a wind chill factor in the open vehicle as we were driving slowly most of the time. Instead of racing through the relatively open country around Imbali, in the Sabi Sand we were making like our (photographic) pray, the leopard, by sneaking about, in the hope of ambushing our quarry.

The Sabi Sand camps are, generally speaking, expensive, and their well-heeled guests expect maximum bang for their buck. The rangers and their guides make no bones of the fact that they're not averse to hunting for big cats. (In fairness, though, out excellent guide Mark said he would go searching for whatever we wanted to see, especially birds, and he proved to be very knowledgeble on all matters twitching).

In the reverse snobbery of game viewing, self-drive visitors to Africa's parks (and this is me 99 per cent of the time) like to say that they're not actually out looking for lions and leopards, but rather just keen on pottering about the bush looking at trees and birds and impalas and crap like that (below).

There's an element of truth to this - Mrs Blog and I, for example, have the luxury of time when it comes to animal spotting so we're rarely in a rush to tick off the big five. However, the most laid back of regular visitors to Kruger and its surrounding would be stretching the bounds of credibility if they said their heart rate didn't increase a few beats when they found a leopard.

So, when some of our group stated they wanted to see more leopards (we'd already seen one in Kruger), Mark and tracker Eckson were more than happy to oblige. Another nice thing about Kirkman's was that our group of nine was spread over two safari vehicles. Ranger Ralph and his tracker took the rest of our readers' tour a-hunting.

Literally within minutes of starting our first drive Ralph had spotted a leopard, and Mark took us to share the sighting. He was a beauty - big male. Although he looks like he's growling in this pic he's actually displaying a flemen response - a type of grimmace which allows him to pick up the scent of a female in heat. So he's not angry, just horny.

In true Sabi Sand fashion we followed the cat through the bush. Driving off road is a no-no for self drive visitors in Kruger and is strictly controlled in the park's private concessions. In the Sabi Sand and other reserves, however, bush bashing is often the order of the day.

Interestingly, as Mark pointed out, one type of creature was directly benefitting from our off-road pursuit of the leopard.

A fork tailed drongo (a bird, left, and yes, it is a drongo) flittered around after our open topped Land Rover (a champion old Tdi called 'Old Smokey' for reasons any Land Rover owner will understand), catching insects dislodged from the bush by our progress through the grass and trees.

The next morning we actually missed out on seeing a leopard (Ralph's crew did get to see another beauty, but all I ended up catching was the tip of its tail as it disappeared into some thick reeds on the edge of the Sand River.

However, our group wasn't disappointed as March and Eckson tracked down a nice pair of white rhinos browsing just near the KK staff encampment.

We watched these gentle, mostly blind creatures meander around, hurting no one except the grass (their non aggressivenmess towards man and other species makes their slaughter by poachers all the more disgusting).

Mark was able to deliver a long commentary as the rhinos blundered closer and closer to us, before we finally left them to be enjoyed by some other visitors.

On the afternoon drive, however, we struck black and gold when we followed reports (the vehicles in the Sabi Sand all communication by radio) of a young leopardess up a tree with an impala she had killed. Some of the camps in the Sabi Sand have reciprocal traversing deals which means they can cross on to neighbouring properties. We left the Kirkman's farm and crossed on to Lion Sands' land and found this lovely young lady, resting safe and sound above a pair of prowling hyenas who were waiting for some morsels to fall from her arboreal dining table.

Kirkman's proved to be lots of fun and very peaceful and relaxing in between game viewing and drinking. Even the walk home to the rooms in the evening was an adventure, thanks to a resident pack of Hyena loping about on the lawns. Manageress Colleen told us this was nothing - they'd recently had a resident leopard who used to sneak up to the lodge on cold nights and sleep on one of the outdoor couches.

All good things must, as they say, result in a hangover... I mean come to an end, and we reluctantly said goodbye to Kirkmans and headed to South Africa's most famous K-Town, Kaapstad (Cape Town).

I've written far too much in this blog and as I'm currently in the Shongololo airport lounge at O.R. Tambo International Airport in Johanessburg it behooves me to go get another beer. If you'd like to see what my readers and I got up to on the luxurious Blue Train, and in Cape Town, then I would encourage you to befriend me on Facebook and check out the many pics I've posted there.

2011 Readers' Tour... Part 1

2011-07-11T01:25:00.006+10:00

To tell you the truth I’d forgotten just how bitterly, unrelentingly, bone-cuttingly cold an open-vehicle game drive in July in the Kruger National Park could be.

I’d also forgotten how fantastic it is to be in the bush at this time of year.

Because of my publishing schedule and Mrs Blog’s work commitments, she and I usually visit Africa between the months of September and March. This means we cop the southern African wet season, but it also means we’re rarely dressed in anything warmer than shorts and T-shirts.

It sounded like a good idea at the time, organizing this year’s 12-day tour of South Africa for readers of my books for July. I knew the bush in the Kruger Park would be thinning out as the long dry winter turned the grass from emerald to khaki, and the mopane leaves to red-gold. It’s also a good time of year to come on safari because rivers and waterholes are drying out and the park’s animals are congregating around the remaining natural and man made water points.

But it’s cold. Damn cold. Africa cold.

Getting back to the positives it’s also a brilliant time of year to take photographs. The sky is clear and blue nearly every day and there’s narrow band of dust sitting just above the horizon that makes for dramatic blood-red sunsets and sunrises. So, if you don’t mind losing the odd digit to frostbite, it’s a great time of year to go on safari.

We started this year’s tour by flying into Johannesburg, which resembled London on a bad winters’ day. Not that it was daytime when we arrived (as it should have been). The Chilean volcano ash cloud caused our direct Sydney-Johannesburg flight to not be direct – we had to stop at Perth to re-fuel and this added about five hours to our journey.

We arrived late, but met up with two members of our party who’d arrived early… at least they would have arrived early if their flight from Perth hadn’t been delayed 15 hours by mechanical problems. However, better late than never, we assembled in Tribes Restaurant in the Emperors’ Palace Casino complex near Johannesburg’s O.R. Tambo International Airport and got stuck into it.

I’d also (nearly) forgotten just how good South African beef is, and how cheap their plonk is (compared to alcoholic beverages in Australia). Once chilled (as in out, not frozen), I retired to my small but perfectly formed room in the Peermont Metcourt Hotel for a good four-and-a-half hours sleep.

Just like the last tour, this year’s crew are an excellent bunch of people. In fact, we have two returnees from the first trip. We assembled the next morning and caught an SA Airlink flight from O.R. Tambo to Kruger Mpumalanga International Airport (KMIA) near Nelspruit.

From KMIA we drove to the town of Hazyview, near the south-western corner of the Kruger Park. Hazyview’s a bustling safari town and home to Inspector Sannie van Rensburg (the heroine of one of my novels, ‘SILENT PREDATOR’). The point of the tour is to point out places where the action has taken place in some of my books so I showed the group where Alex Tremain car-jacked a four wheel drive (in ‘IVORY’) and where Sannie and Tom had a gunfight with a baddie on Sannie’s banana farm. I also pointed out what a safe country South Africa is to live in.

That afternoon we went to the Elephant Whispers elephant rehabilitation centre, for elephants with substance abuse problems (one was nearly shot for trying to overdose on oranges on a citrus farm). I’m going to blog more about Elephant Whispers on my Getaway Magazine blog in due course because I liked it a good deal, unlike some other wildlife rehab places, which, to paraphrase Ms Amy Whine-house, I would not like to go to again.

We stayed the night in Hazyview at Rissington Inn, owned by fellow writer and all-round decent chap Chris Harvie, who unfortunately wasn’t there as he was up-country – up several countries, in fact, in Tanzania. I love Rissington Inn. It’s quaint and old worldy. It’s the sort of place where you’d be executed under rule .303 talking on your mobile phone in the bar, yet still manages to come across as extremely laid back and welcoming.

Rissinton Inn

Next morning we had a long but enjoyable drive through the Kruger National Park to Imabli Private Game Lodge with my good friend and ace guide Greg from African Safari Adventures in Hazyview.

Imbali is a privately operated concession within the boundaries of the Kruger Park. It sits in the open plains near Orpen Gate, west of Satara. This is usually good lion country and it proved to be on this trip. I think we saw lions on all four of the game drives we did from Imbali. Of special interest were some cute-as-a-killer-button cubs who’d been parked in some long grass while their mothers went hunting, and their big daddy.

As a special treat, while watching a male and female lion interact with (ie eat) a buffalo, our intrepid tour guide, Mr W, happened to spot a leopard lurking in the background. Three of the big five in one location... not bad.

African Dawn - sneak preview

2011-06-13T21:17:00.002+10:00

Here's me on Youtube, spruiking away about my forthcoming novel, African Dawn, which is due for release on August 1 in Australia, and in the UK and South Africa later in the year.

I'll soon be announcing dates and places where I'll be speaking during the promotional tour of Australia and New Zealand.

(Oh, and I've nearly finished writing novel number nine).

Lots of gorillas, no plastic bags

2011-05-30T10:41:00.002+10:00

I finally got around to posting a report about my recent trip to Rwanda to see the mountain gorillas (and conduct research for my next book) on the Getaway Magazine blog here.

Trek on over and leave comment... please. There are a few more pictures of the gorillas there as well. It's a nice long post, so perfect for wasting some time at work.

Come to the launch of my new non-fiction book!

2011-05-26T16:06:00.004+10:00

Talk about big news... this should make up for me not posting much here for the last few weeks (or is that months?).

My third non-fiction book, another co-written biography, THE GREY MAN, will be launched in Brisbane on June 30 and you, dear readers, are cordially invited to attend and support a worthy cause.

THE GREY MAN, My Undercover War Against the Chid Sex Trade in Asia, by John Curtis and Me, is the story of a pretty amazing guy (he'll tell you he's just an ordinary bloke) who set up a charity to rescue child prostitutes and bust child trafficking rings in South East Asia.

I first heard about the organisation, The Grey Man, via the ABC TV documentary series, Australian Story, which featured ex-commando John and his intrepid volunteers last year (or was that the year before - I lose track of these things). I was so moved by the documentary (softy that I am), that I stalked John mercilessly via the internet until he agreed to let me write a book with him.

The Grey Man is named after an Australian Army term for someone who flies under the radar and gets his job done with a minimum of fuss and without seeking glory. It's an apt title for the organisation, which began as John's one man crusade to do some good during a low period of his life.

John travelled to Thailand with the idea that he would do something to stop child exploitation. His modus operandi was unconventional to say the least - he posed as a sex tourist and delved deeper and deeper into the murky world of the illegal sex trade until he was offered a child for sex. He rescued that girl, spiriting her away to freedom, and he and the organisation he subsequently founded have gone on to rescue more than a 100 people from a life of sexual slavery.

I won't tell you more, as I want you to buy the book. In fact, why not come along to the official launch of the book in Brisbane and buy a signed copy?

THE GREY MAN will be officially launched by The Hon. Justice Margaret McMurdo AC, President of the Queensland Court of Appeal, at a cocktail party at the Brisbane Supreme Court on Thursday June 30, at 6.15pm for 6.30pm. Cost is $48 per head wich covers drinks and nibbles. Advance bookings are essential and you can book and pay via this link.

For more information on The Grey Man check out their website and to read more about the book, check out our publisher's (Pan Macmillan) website.

See you in Brisvegas!

In Perth this week!

2011-05-22T14:14:00.002+10:00

BOO!

Yes, it's been far too long since I've blogged, and I am sorry. I've been too busy trying to finish novel number 9, editing number 8, and getting ready for the release of non-fiction number three. Happy now?

Anyway, I'm hitting the road again for some more shameless self-promotion and if you are in the slightest bit inclined you can catch me around Perth for Library and Information Week at:

Cambridge Library, Boulevard Centre, Wednesday May 25 at 10am. Bookings essential at the library, or call 93838999.

The Grove Library, Leake Street, Peppermint Grove, Wednesday May 25 at 6pm. Book by calling 92868686.

Fremantle City Library, Friday May 27, 10am.

I'll be talking about my latest book, The Delta, how to write, and the trials and tribulations of getting published.

Come along and say hi (or, go and see Michael Connelly who is much more famous that me and will also be appearing in Perth later this week. I'm hoping to get to a lunch with him on Friday - me and several hundred other people).

Much news to report in coming weeks. Non-fiction book number three is due out June 30. More info to come...

Big news next week

2011-03-26T12:39:00.002+11:00

I know you're probably tired of my excuses for not blogging, but they are valid. Editing... writing... editing... writing.... drinking... editing... writing... drinking.

After finishing the copy edits on my third top secret non fiction book, and my not-so-secret eighth novel, 'AFRICAN DAWN' (due out in August in Australia and in October in the UK and South Africa) I'm now about to get back into finishing off my ninth novel. It's called 'BOOK NINE'.

What I find when I'm actually writing (as opposed to going through my editor's edits) is that a bit of blogging in the morning helps to fire me up for the day's work, so expect something more than a bit of shameless self promotion in the weeks to come.

But for now, here's some more shamless self promotion in the form of quite a deep review of THE DELTA in South Africa's Business Day here , and another review in The Citizen (Johannesburg) here

TP on Radio Today, Jozi.

2011-03-15T10:21:00.002+11:00

Standby for more shameless self promotionin the days to come as I post reviews, interviews and news from my recent promotional tour of South Africa, and a brief visit to the UK.

If y'all have half an hour to kill you might enjoy this episode from Radio Today, Johannesburg's book program with the lovely Sue Grant-Marshall.

Hi, remember me?

2011-03-05T03:58:00.002+11:00

... well, I wouldn't blame you if you've forgotten me.

Forgive me, Legion of Fans (LOF) for neglecting you for so long. It seems I'm always apologising on here for being too busy to blog. But there it is. I've been flat out going through the edits on my third non fiction book, touring South Africa to promote THE DELTA, and trying to write a ninth novel.

So there.

Actually, I've also been doing a fair bit of socialising and drinking on the South African tour, instead of staying up late and blogging.

I've been very fortunate to meet quite quite a few of y'all from here and facebook on this tour. Had me a ball in Cape Town and soaked up some sun, sea and lobster curry in Durban. In Gauteng I had an exceptionally excessive dinner with the Exclusive Books people in Sandton, and an absolute hoot at a lunch at Pachas in Pretoria today.

Some authors I've heard of find promo tours tiring. One very famous author I know of apparently ended up curled up in the fetal position in the shower of his hotel room, crying his eyes out, such was his angst and stress at having to out and have a glass of wine with his public. I won't name names, or course, or reveal how I heard this tidbit, but my message to said famous person, in the unlikely event that I ever meet him, is "cowboy the f* up, dude".

Personally, I find touring a good deal of fun. The hardest part for me is recovering the next morning from the night before. But if I'm feeling a bit seedy I just tell myself to cowboy up. I mean, mixing with people and talking about books and Africa, and squeezing in the odd bevvy is hardly working, is it?

I'm off to the Old Dart tonight, to London, England (as people say in America so you don't get confused and think you're actually in Paris, France) to meet with my wonderful, wise, sensational and forward thinking publishers at Quercus, and my agent, who I have yet to meet, even though she has already landed me some very nice publishing deals.

I've written a very long (perhaps too long) post about my recent visit to the Mountain Gorillas in Rwanda and will post it soon on the new-look Getaway Magazine blog, once I work out how to log into it.

Soon the travelling will be over, LOF, and I'll find a little corner where I can hunker down and finish off Book 9 and get back to some serious blogging.

Miss you all. Truly I do.

Come meet me in South Africa

2011-02-22T01:20:00.006+11:00

I'm just about to embark on a round parts-of South Africa tour to promote the release of my latest novel, THE DELTA.

Please come along and see me at one (or all) of the following venues (as it's not so lekker when no one shows up).

Durban

Date: Monday, 28 February
Time: 17:30 for 18:00
Venue: Exclusive Books, Westville, Cinema Level, The Pavilion, Spine Road,
Westville
RSVP:- 031 265 0454

Date: Tuesday, 1 March
Time: 17:30 for 18:00
Venue: Books and Books, Shop 42, Kensington Square, Kensington Drive,
Durban North
RSVP:031 563 6288

Gauteng

Date: Wednesday, 2 March
Time: 18:00 for 18:30
Venue: Exclusive Books, Sandton City
RSVP:011 883 1010

Date: Friday, 4 March, Pretoria News lunch
Time: 12:00 for 12:30
Venue: Pachas, 22 Dely Road, Hazelwood, Brooklyn, Pretoria. R220 for members, R260 for non members. Three course meal with wine included.
RSVP:Megan - 012 667 1071 / 083 556 1899

Important announcement... missing pages in The Delta

2011-02-15T23:56:00.002+11:00

Greetings all, from Hoedspruit, near the Kruger National Park.

I just noticed a comment from a reader, Dion, on a previous post saying he was missing pages 123-154 from his South African edition of my latest book, THE DELTA.

I've contacted the publishers and they have been checking their stock. It appears Dion's copy may be a one-off printing error, but if anyone else has a problem with missing pages, please contact me via email at tonyparknews(at)gmail(dot)com

Dion, please email me as I have a pdf for you of the missing pages, or, if you wish, the publishers can arrange a replacement copy for you.

Snowed under with edits at the moment, but I'll soon have a blog on Rwanda for you. Stay tuned.

Mombasa, Nairobi, Kigali...

2011-02-04T08:49:00.002+11:00

Well, I've just had the most amazing day today, spending some time with a few distant relatives... Mountain Gorillas.

But before that you have to read about me tongue-pashing a giraffe, here. Please try and leave a comment - I'm sure Getaway will sort it out soon.

Kruger in the rain and Mombasa in the sun

2011-01-26T19:11:00.003+11:00

Coming to you live, Legion of Fans (LOF), from the beach bar, 50 metres from the white-fringed blue waters of the Indian Ocean, at the Nyali International Beach Hotel, Mombasa (crappy web cam picture, above, shows my view).

This is the third year in a row that Mrs Blog and I have taken the waters and the Tusker Lagers and lobsters at Mombasa. We have an annual date to catch up with our mate, Bwana James, who has his own mini family reunion here each year.

Mombasa itself is hectic - crowded, grubby, polluted, noisy, but here on the beach it's like nothing's changed since the hotel was built back in the late 40s. Looking out I can sea a couple of dhows, some dudes coming back from a fishing trip in their canoe, some beach kids practising acrobatics and a few fat lazy white people (myself included) lazing on sunbeds.

Beyond the still waters in front of me is a line of breakers on the reef. It's cloudy in the early morning but by now - just afer 10am, the sky is clearing. It's murderously hot away from the coast, but here there's a constant breeze - stiff enough to keep you cool all day, and to send the kite surfers' rigs aloft, but warm enough so you can stay in your cozzies until the sun goes down.

This is where I based the denouement (the end bit) of 'THE DELTA'.

In the evenings we go in search of another restaurant and another lobster. It was Spaghetti Al Aragotsa (with lobster) last night, at the Italian joint, Il Covo, at Bumburi Beach. Tonight's it's flash lobster at the Tamarind (flashest place in town).

I'll post some pics when I can, but for now, there's another post up on my Getaway Blog so please pop on over, have a look, and leave a comment. You might also like to check out the link to the very nice Hoyo Hoyo Tsonga private game lodge, in Kruger, which you'll find in the story.

Happy Australia day, y'all.

THE DELTA - Out now in South Africa!

2011-01-24T03:39:00.005+11:00

Well, what a nice surprise. Mrs Blog and I are on our way to Mombasa for a week of eating seafood and drinking Tusker Lager, and while loitering in Johannesburg Airport I discovered that not only is my latest book, THE DELTA, now on the shelves, it's already in the Top 10 in the CNA at the Airports bookshops!

I knew it was coming but wasn't actually expecting to see any copies just yet. And lo and behold, there it was, sandwiched between Tom Clancy and John Grisham in the Number 2 spot in the new releases section. Not bad company, eh?

I'm pictured above with the charming Cindy, Manageress of the OR Tambo International Airport CNA. I love everyone at CNA at the Airports. As my books are prominently displayed there I don't have to skulk about and move them from the back of the shop to the front of the shop. And no, I didn't put THE DELTA in the Number 2 spot.

But wait, that's not all the shameless self promotion and big-headed gloating for today. As well as having a Top 10 for new releases, CNA also has a Top 10 for its bestselling paperbacks. And looky here who happens to be in Number 2 there as well.

Thank you, CNA, and all you travellers looking for airport novels. I love youse all.

I'll have more news from Mombasa in the coming days, as long as the somewhat patchy wireless interent at the Nyali Beach Hotel is working. After that, it's off to the wilds of Rwanda to see some misty gorillas.

Family photo

2011-01-22T03:19:00.002+11:00

Baboons to the left of me, impala to the right of me... I'm in Pretoriuskop Camp in the deep south of the Kruger National Park, desperately trying to get on top of my blogging and my writing while the camp animals wander about, chomping contentedly on the lush summer vegetation. But I couldn't resist the temptation to share with you a rare picture of my two Land Rovers and my one wife.

The diminutive Mrs Blog shies the limelight of the blog, but I think she won't mind this rare public appearance with her two children (some would say three).

Here, on our friends' farm (or what's left of it after half was recently taken by a farm invader) somewhere in Zimbabwe are our two children... errr... Land Rovers Tonka (left), who turns 27 some time this year, and Broomas, the baby of the family who was born in 1997.

Tonka is as fit as a 27-year-old fiddle can be. We took him for a run to try and get his rego renewed (we were unsuccessful - this is Africa after all), but we were able to wind him up to a cracking 75kph.

Broomas and Tonka seemed to get on well (neither blew a head gasket or a radiator hose in an attempt at attention seeking) and they will next meet again in February when our intrepid (some would say crazy) friends A and J take part in Operation Tonka's Great Escape. They've agreed to drive Tonka down to South Africa where our friends in Joburg who look after Broomas have agreed to take on the equally adventurous (crazy) task of trying to change Tonka from a Zimbabwean to a South African registered vehicle.

For all its veneer of first-i world civilisation, South Africa has a bureaucracy that, well, makes Zimbabwe looks efficient.

Mrs Blog and I are heading up country to East Africa this weekend - to Mombasa, in Kenya, and Rwanda, in Rwanda. We're off for a healthy serve of seafood and gorillas, respectively. I will do my best to blog live from these corners of darkest Africa.

Blogging again with Getaway - now with added video!

2011-01-20T00:14:00.002+11:00

I'm getting back into the swing of it, LOF. No more literary ranting, just a bit of good old fashioned whingeing and Africa story telling here on my Getaway Magazine Blog.

And the BIG news is that I've worked out how to upload video to Youtube. If you go to the abovementioned blog you'll find a video with a bit of subtle promotion of 'THE DELTA' in it.

Make sure you leave a comment - I want them to think lots of people really do read my blog.

Cheated.

2011-01-17T22:29:00.002+11:00

Cheated, that's how I feel.

I'm not talking about Africa - at least not today. No, I thought I'd kick of 2011 with a bit of a whinge about books.

I try not to read literary fiction. I just don't get it. And when I do, by some odd twist of fate find myself reading something other than the airport novel thrillers that I really like (to read and write), I always end up disappointed.

Anyway, thanks to the wonders of the Amazon Kindle, I found myself exposed recently (or is that recently exposed?) to a work of literary fiction by a British author (I won't name names). You can have 11 Kindles linked to one account, so Mrs Blog and I share our selection of trashy potboilers with our relatives - some of whom creep occasionally into the high brow end of town.

So, I thought I'd give this worthy tome a try. And you know what - as I started to read it, thinking I would hate it, I actually started to like it.

It was, I think the term is, character-driven. Its many (many, many) characters all had fascinating back-stories and interesting problems and aspirations, or lack thereof. I found myself wanting to know more about these people and, more importantly, what would happen to them.

And beaneath all of this profiling was the beginnings of a story. Yes, a real-life honest-to-goodness story. When an element of impending danger reared its head, I thought, game-on! I could see how the author was setting up all these very different people's paths to cross. However, I couldn't guess which one would get it in the neck, which would survvie, and which would get it on (if you know what I mean).

And then, at the end of the book....

My brainy, personable, attractive and single publisher, C, has had occasion to ask me, when she's finished reading the manuscripts of one or two of my books; "Tony, did you get to a point where you thought, 'I've done enough words, I'm a bit sick of this book, so I think it's time to end it?"

To which I have replied, on each occasion, "Umm, yes."

That does happen. I get to the stage where I think, enough twists and turns, enough red herrings, it's time to wrap this sucker up. It's time to kill off the baddies (and perhaps one or two noble supporting goodies), give the guy the girl, or the girl the guy, and let those who deserve it ride off into the sunset.

I actually like books with short, sharp endings but, importantly, they must have an ending. My publisher, wise person that she is, gets me to tie off a few more loose ends that I might have missed, and insert an Epilogue which tells the reader what happened to everyone later. I can live with that. I can live with just about any sort of ending, but I must have an ENDING.

And so, at the end of this beautfiully crafted piece of fiction that I'd been reading, ABSOLUTELY BLOODY NOTHING HAPPENED.

There was a culmination of sorts, when one of the characters, an evil genius, almost saw through his plan of bringing down the western banking system, but.... we didn't see it happen. OK, so maybe we don't need the 'big bang', maybe it's enough to imply that it would happen, but surely this should have had some impact on the lives of some of the other characters?

No.

They had nothing to do with that part of the book. There was a girl and guy - misfits of sorts - who looked like they might get it on, and they did (well, they didn't actually get it on - perish the thought, nothing so cheap as a sex scene in this book). No, they well... seemed like they were getting on famously, and....

And, nothing. There was nothing to link their story with anyone else's. God, this was like sitting through five days of Tarantino movies! All these irrelevant sub plots with nothing in common.

And then there was the guy who was going to set off a bomb. Yes, an actual bomb.

But, instead of the Big Bang, well.... nothing. Didn't Chekov or some Russian dude say that if you introduce a gun in the first act then someone's going to get a sucking chest wound in the third (or something like that?).

All these sub plots could have, should have, to my feeble mind at least, gone somewhere and drawn in all the other characters and sub plots. But... no.

Oh, and let's not forget the top line athlete and his pin-up girlfriend. They were... well, totally bloody irrelevant to anything at all related to any of the other characters or sub plots as far as I could see. And the schizophrenic brother of one of the characters who... well, don't worry, because nothing happend to him, either.

Reading the author's notes at the end of this book (which were almost as long as the book, but, hey, mine are a bit like that) I learned that the author had consulted many, many people and had done an awful lot of research into his characters' life stories. And it showed - they were, as I've said, perfectly formed. It's just that nothing happened to any of them. What's more it took him FOUR YEARS TO WRITE THE THING.

I wonder what would happen if I wrote a book with no ending. Perhaps I'd win a literary prize and the book would be made into a movie and I'd make a heap of dough.

And you know what, the other thing that would happen is....

What do you reckon, LOF? Read any worthy books that just fizzled out? What do you look for in a story? Do you look for a 'story' at all?

I'm back...

2011-01-13T02:21:00.002+11:00

HNY, LOF (Legion of Fans), if there are any of you still out there.

I'm back, with a repaired laptop and bursting with things to blog about. I've just got back to South Africa, land of internet access and cheap beer, after a sojourn in Zimbabwe and Zambia. I have much to report.

I'll be hitting all my many blogs and desperately trying to convince people that I am still alive and kicking.

Had me a fine old time on Lake Kariba, on a houseboat (more like a house ship, actually) where I coincidentally met the people from Getaway Magazine who post my blogs there. Amazing. We had a great chat and one of them sprayed a bottle of champagne all over Mrs Blog and me just after midnight on Jan 1. I also recall doing the limbo at some point, and singing 'The Gambler' in a bout of improptu Karaoke. Zimbabwe, I apologise.

Anyway, I also still have a ninth novel to write so I can't dally here all day. More to come, in the very near future...

Grumpy old blogger

2010-12-12T22:52:00.002+11:00

One of the few good things about getting old, apart from being able to get a Bruce Willis haircut to camouflage your spreading baldness, is being able to whinge about everything.

As someone wise once said to me (it may have been Mother Blog), 'getting old means not having to pretend that you like people' or, in this case, places.

Here I am on the Getaway Magazine Blog, whingeing away. Have a look and leave a comment (please).

Off to Botswana tomorrow, then Zambia - two countries with little or no internet connectivity for yours truly. Back in a week or so.

Meerkats with pink collars?

2010-12-09T21:44:00.002+11:00

Strange, but true. Read all about it on the South African Tourism blog where I'm an occasional guest, here.

Disaster!

2010-12-08T23:54:00.002+11:00

What's the worst thing you reckon could happen to a number 2 bestelling writer (Australian fiction, for one week, 2009, T. Winton No.1) who spends six months of the year travelling and wrting in Africa?

Killed by a lion? Shot by poachers? Carjacked? Car fridge breakdown? Bitten by a black mamba? Hmm?

Actually it's none of those things (well... car fridge breakdown is actually a show-stopper and if I got close enough to a mamba to be bitten I'd probably have a heart attack and die...)

No... it's a laptop imploding.

Yes, just as I was finishing off non fiction book number 3 and starting novel number 9, the laptop went and died on me. In between pulling out the battery and sticking it back in again I managed to save the aforementioned books and a few other gems, but we're now on the back-up plan. I am using Mrs Blog's laptop.

With two of us sharing the computer at the moment there is little time for blogging or other social networking. And I can't even enter things like "sexy ladies in gorilla masks" in google any more, as she would find me out!

(Actually, I don't really go looking for sexy ladies in gorilla masks, but I know at least on of you does. I've got a site meter on this blog that tells me how people have stumbled upon our little world here - ie: random googling or if you come here direct. I've used the 'sexy ladies in gorilla masks' line once before and, not long after, I discovered some interloper had actually found the blog by typing that very thing into his/her search engine).

So, it's nothing but work, work, work for me, on our shared computer.

I can report that I am finally making some headway with novel number 9 and before my computer crashed I had managed to write a couple more semi serious blogs for the Getaway website and South African Tourism. These will be appearing soon and, if Mrs Blog lets me, I will point to them from here.

Also, we're heading back into the wilds of deepest, darkest no-internet land next week for a couple of weeks.

Be good, and don't forget, you can buy all your friends and relatives in the UK a cheap copy of SILENT PREDATOR for Christmas by going online.

Cheers.

In which Mr Blog saves the German crown jewels

2010-11-25T00:41:00.002+11:00

Yes, yes, yes, I know... I've been neglecting all my many blogs, but honest, guv, it's because I'm once again drowning in edits. Just about got the edits all done on novel number 8, and in came some more on non fiction book number 3.

Racked (wracked, crookedpaw?) with guilt, I decided I would send you all some pictures, in the hope of keeping you from switching channels.

And so today, we have some images (I can only load five per post) of our recent sojourn to Etosha National Park.

Tough, ferocious, and usually elusive it's not often you see a honey badger (above) in broad daylight - especially not three metres away. The German tourist camped next to us in Halali Camp in the middle of Etosha (all tourists in Namibia are German, except us) had to ask me what this little fellow was.

"Honey badger," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"Ratel," I tried, exhibiting my comprehensive knowledge of Afrikaans (koeksister, ratel, snot klap, lekker, renoster, voetsek).

"Excuse me?"

Clearly I wasn't getting through. Mein neighbour proceeded to walk up to the honey badger with his tiny digital camera. When he was two metres away I called out "Stop-en-zee."

"Excuse me."

Clearly I had to talk louder to this man and resort to sign language. "Dangerous! Grrrrrr," I used my hands as claws for effect. "Scrotum!" I placed a hand on mine and mimicked extreme pain and severe blood loss.

"Ah!" said the man. Few (male) travellers to Africa have not heard of the honey badger's legendary modus operandi for bringing down prey as large as a wildebeest... they rip their victim's scrotum out. Something clicked in the neighbour's mind and he backed off.

Etosha Pan (in the background) and Etosha lion in the foreground. Enough words from me.

Each of the three camps in Etosha: Namutoni, Halali, and the other one (it's Okukuejo or something like that - I can't be bothered checking the spelling, Crookedpaw) has a permanent floodlit waterhole. Stacks (hobos/maninge/plenty) of animals come to drink. We saw black rhino, elephant, giraffe (they're giraffe, above) and many other grass eaters at each of the camps. At Halali we saw one of the aforementioned honey badgers bite a female rhino on the bum (no joke). Just as well it wasn't a male rhino.

The waterholes are great, and they sound like someone getting their tyre stabbed in a Francistown car park. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. There are signs ordering "Silence!" everywhere, which is funny because just beyond the ring of hushing tourists is, like, a thousand other tourists and staff chatting and drinking german beer and braaing bratwurst and inflating their air beds etc. Whatever. It's still pretty cool.

Black rhino. These poor things are getting clobbered at an alarming rate again, all because some f*ing idiot of a Vietnamese government minister (no other PC way to say that, I'm afraid) claimed rhino horn is a cure for cancer. I'd like to set the honey badger on whoever came up with that pearler. Anyway, Etosha is a great place to see black rhino (they have no white rhino). Go see them... before it's too late.

The leo-pard - my favourite of the killing animals. We bagged this lovely young specimen near Rietfontein Waterhole. I love the light in this pic and in a high res version (not sure if you can see it in this opne), you can see the sun's reflection in her eye.

Etosha's a great place. It's very pricey these days and the camps are absolutely chockers (crowded). However, there are only the three camps and they're not all that big compared to, say, Kruger's camps. The park, on the other hand, which runs along one side of the gigantic Etosha salt pan, is very big, so you never really feel crowded out when you're out game viewing.

It's stark, arid, dusty and beautiful. I know at least one of you is going there soon. Have fun, and watch out for the honey badgers.

(I'll be blogging more on Namibia and Botswana again soon in my relatively serious Getaway blog).

I heart my Kindle

2010-11-17T00:32:00.003+11:00

I love my Amazon Kindle ebook reader, almost as much as I love my Land Rover and my small but perfectly formed wife. Serioulsy, it's that good.

I've been meaning to post about my geekish affair with ebooks for a long time, but never got around to it. Fortunately my techno-savvy friend Joel, who is one of the editors at Pan Macmillan, has interviewed me about using my Kindle in Africa on his blog, here, so I can cross 'blog about Kindle' off my comprehensive list of things to do.

Just as well, as it's Mrs Blog's birthday today so I have a comprehensive to-do list today.

1. Check emails (done)
2. Blog about Kindle (done)
3. Do more edits on Book 8. (ummm, pending, due to birthday party)
4. Get drunk
5. Cook dinner for wife.

Maybe that should be:
4. Cook dinner for wife
5. Get drunk.

No, here's a better idea.

4. Get drunk while cooking dinner for wife.

Anyhow, all this list making is making me look very productive, as she sits opposite me, checking her birthday emails on her computer.

Joel's posting the Kindle interview in two parts, to add to the suspense. I bet you can't wait to see how it ends.

How about you, Legion of Fans (LOF), any ebook fans out there? I know at least a couple of you have dabbled in the world of digital books. Confess...

Caption competition...

2010-11-15T19:30:00.002+11:00

Here's me in the Khwai River, Botswana, again. Go on, do your worst... I can take it.

(Too busy to blog anything else just now... have to get the edits on Book 8 finished, so I can, at last, start writing Book 9).

In which Mr Blog is embraced by another man...

2010-11-10T20:14:00.002+11:00

Yes, read all about my somewhat intimate welcome to Zimbabwe, where I was hugged by the gate attendant at Hwange National Park. We're close... real close.

It's here on my Getaway Magazine blog : you know, the sort of serious one.

Leave a comment or two, so they keep the blog going.

Any UK readers yet? Make yourself known, and welcome, if you've bought a copy of SILENT PREDATOR, the first of my books to be published in the UK by the wonderful, lovely, wise people at Quercus Books.

At last, some pictures!

2010-11-07T23:05:00.005+11:00

Yes, I know you really only come here for the pictures, not the articles... and I don't blame you.

Mrs Blog has been going through the pictures, picking out the best ones, and we just took delivery of a stack/span/hobo of good pics from our friend Annelien, who accompanied us on our recent trip to Botswana and Zimbabwe.

Here's a selection, in no particular order...

(There's even a naked one, which should keep the anonymous commentators happy).

We came across this mean and nasty old lady not far from the Pandamatenga border crossing, from Botswana to Zimbabwe, on our way out of Hwange National Park after taking part in the 24-hour game census in the park - a highlight of our safari calendar. This lioness was in the Matetsi Safari area, which features in my book, SAFARI.

Bagged these elephants at Chingahobe Dam, which was where we and our South African friends spent the aforementioned 24 hours counting animals. This year's count was a big improvement on last year's. It couldn't have been any worse, because it poured with rain for the whole census period last year and we saw nothing.

Incidentally, in the acknowledgements section of SAFARI, I mention that a rhino was shot by poachers during the game census,while I was busy writing SAFARI. This is where it happened, at Chingahobe. Apparently the people counting that year were close enough to hear the poachers chopping the horn off. Scary stuff.

Annelien took this most excellent picture of a lioness walking past Broomas, our trusty 300Tdi Land Rover Defender, at the Khwai Community Development conservancy in the Okavango Delta.

She also caught me in the shower at Khwai, four-handed. You can never have too many hands in a bush shower, I always say. (Oh dear, that didn't come out right, did it?).

And as the sun sets slowly over Robins Camp, Hwange National Park, we say night night to Broomas the ultimate off-road adventure vehicle. (Actually, that may be a sunrise picture. Whatever).

High drama in Botswana...

2010-11-02T20:39:00.002+11:00

...well, sort of. Look, to be perfectly honest, apart from its wildlife, Botswana is not the most exciting or adrenaline-charged country in the world.

Or so I thought...

Click on over to my blog on the Getaway Magazine website to learn how I (pictured right, above), contemplated murdering two men and a woman while changing a tire on my Land Rover.

Leave comment (please), and use phoney multiple names if you like, so it appears there are many of you.

Blogging frenzy

2010-10-27T18:25:00.002+11:00

I'm guest blogging on the South African Tourism website again here, if you'd (please) like to go and have a look. For a change, I'm shamelessly promoting South Africa rather than myself.

Still resting up in Joburg while Broomas the indefatigable 1997 300Tdi Land Rover Defender is kitted out with some more gadgets (for those who are interested, it's a Frontrunner four-box drawer slide, and a rear fender mountd 40 litre fuel tank).

More travel tales and frippery here soon.

Welcome, UK and South African readers

2010-10-27T01:49:00.008+11:00

Welcome!

If you've stumbled across me and my books and you live in the UK or South Africa (or perhaps other parts of Africa and the Middle East where my books have been showing up lately, then you may be wondering (well, at least I hope you're wondering) where you can track down the rest of my books.

So far I've written eight novels set in Africa. All were originally published in my native Australia, and they've been re-published by my UK publisher, Quercus Books. Quercus has committed to publishing my next couple of books and they'll be progressively rolling out all the old ones.

As all of my books were previously available in South Africa through a different publisher, Quercus has committed to releasing all of them there, first. So far, FAR HORIZON, ZAMBEZI, SAFARI, IVORY, SILENT PREDATOR, THE DELTA and AFRICAN DAWN have all been released in South Africa. Another of my earlier books, AFRICAN SKY is due for re-release soon.

In the UK, at the time I'm updating this post (January, 2012) you can so far buy SILENT PREDATOR, THE DELTA and AFRICAN DAWN. The other titles will follow in the near future.

The good news is that my ninth novel, which currently goes by the catchy title of BOOK NINE will be released in Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and the UK in October/November 2012.

If you are new to the blog, please feel free to browse around and, if you wish, even sign on as a follower. We're a happy band of friends here, generally united by a love of all things African, and a desire to take the p*ss out of yours truly (that goes for me as well).

I use the blog as a kind of informal travel diary when I'm in Africa, and as a tool of shameless self promotion (which I try to keep to a minimum) when I'm back in Australia.

So, sit back, have a cuppa or a drink (depending on whether you're at work or at home, and what your employer's drug and alcohol policy allows), put your feet up, and enjoy. Or get back to work.

Cheers, and thanks for coming.

Tony.

Of course!

2010-10-22T22:09:00.005+11:00

Adventurers Don and Barry enjoy a sustaining beverage midway through their quest to conquer the Okavango Delta on deck chairs, with yours truly, centre, displaying his recently obtained four-pack, courtesy of Vision Personal Training, Crows Nest.

So, where to start? At the very beginning? No... too boring. Miles and miles of Botswanan nothingness en route to Hwange (Zimbabwe), via such uninspiring locales as Martins Drift, Francistown (might come back to that one, as we did have a tire slashed by would-be thieves), and Nata.

No, I've got a better idea. Let's start halfway through, at a good bit, where I'm drinking beer in a river in the Okavango Delta, the setting of my latest book, THE DELTA. (How's that for a seamless segue... seamless, I hear you cry/groan!).

It's amazing the people you meet in Africa. I came across these two fellow Aussies drifting down the Khwai River, which is, in actual fact, a tributary of the Okavango, in Botswana, and not the setting of an Alec Guinness movie, as I'd always thought.

These brave chaps were single-handedly navigating the Okavango Delta on floating lounge chairs with nothing but Castle Lager and Cheetah kill to sustain them (Cheetahs will run away if you threaten them, lions will kill you, as our heroine, Sonja, points out in the aforementioned novel).

I stopped these two latter-day Stanley and Livingstones and asked them if it was safe to be consuming alcohol in a river in THE DELTA.

I'd read an article in the authoritative SA 4x4 Magazine, bible of the modern-day beer-drinking African adventurer, a couple of years ago about this very place, the Khwai River Community Conservancy, which sits on the north eastern border of the Moremi Game Reserve in THE DELTA. The article promised abundant wildlife and camping at a fraction (about half, in fact) of the cost of staying in Moremi, just across the river. The local community would be uplifted by our money, and we would get to see lots of animals do all sorts of silly things that are banned in national parks - like swimming in the river.

That particular article featured a picture of some rather burly Afrikaner gentlemen sitting on lounge chairs, up to their necks in 'delta wine' (as the local waters are sometimes known), while supping on beers. The intrepid crew from SA 4x4 had been promised by locals that there were no crocodiles in the waterways in which they were reclining.

So I asked these two gentlemen, Barry Humphries (right), and Donald Bradman (left), what the situation was with crocs.

"We asked an African safari guide from one of the camps around here if there were crocodiles in the river," Barry informed me, over long drafts of rehydrating fluid.

"And what did he say?" I asked.

"He said; 'of course!'"

Armed with that information, what else could I do, but slip into my tatty Australian Army running shorts and reach for the Esky (cooler box/chilly bin, to foreign readers).

Just out of shot in this picture are two burly Land Rover Defenders which our party parked across the river to act as a crocodile barrier (like, I'm sure that would stop them). Just off to the left of this picture, about 300 metres back were a couple of lions that we'd earlier been watching sleeping off a big meal.

And people ask me if Africa is dangerous?

"Of course!"

I'm back... sort of

2010-10-18T00:49:00.003+11:00

... just stumbled in from the windswept, dusty plains of Etosha Pan, Namibia, and currently slaking my thirst with an ice cold Windhoek Draught or two, in the eponymous city (Windhoek that is, not Draught).

I've just been wading through a span/stack/heap of emails and noticed a couple about a Mr Damien Mander, former Aussie commando who was shot in Zimbabwe while working on anti-poaching patrols.

Thanks Anonymous and Naturesmark for mentioning this little incident in the blog comments. Geepers, it sounds a lot like my fourth book, SAFARI! Anyone remember that one (ex Aussie special forces soldier training anti poaching patrols in Zimbabwe)? Hmmm?.

All is well. Or, at least it will be after a few more beers.

I miss you all and will be back in more regular contact in a few days' time with tall tales and true from my travels when I get back into South Africa.

Much to report...

Later.

On Safari

2010-09-18T07:25:00.003+10:00

Greetings from Johannesburg, South Africa.

Mrs Blog and I leave tomorrow (Saturday), for a month-ish long trip to Botswana, Zimbabwe and Namibia, all in the name of research, of course. Sort of.

In fact, I'm so busy editing the eighth novel and the third biography that I haven't even begun to think about what the ninth novel will be about. Hopefully inspiration will strike somewhere between game spotting and drinking. Yikes.

Internet connectivity will be somewhere between sparse and non existent on this leg of the trip, so take a break or, better still, get to work.

In the meantime, I can report that the weather in Joburg has been sunny and warm, the food and booze cheap, and the people as friendly as always. Crime is down, the vibe is up since the world cup, and Broomas our trusty new(ish) Land Rover is packed and ready for the road.

I've been invited by the good peolple at South African Tourism to contribute to their aussie blog, so when I get back in range I'll be posting the odd bit of news there, as well. I've written my first and it will appear in the very near future here. Keep an eye out for it and, please, when it appears, leave a comment so it looks like I have lots of fans.

There'll be big news next month when I get back from safari. I promise. In fact, there may even be some video, as I got drunk on the flight over and bought a teeny weeny HD video camera from the in-flight duty free catalogue.

Cheers.

Catching up...

2010-09-04T15:12:00.004+10:00

Well, more like falling behind actually. I'm madly trying to finish off the first draft of my third co-written biography (I could tell you what it's about then I'd have to, well... you know).

Mrs Blog and I leave for Africa very soon so things are mounting up (yikes!). Too much organising, too little time, and too little natural ability (on my part) to organise anything.

Anyway, as I said in the last post there will be more stuff for me to blog about once I'm back in Africa. I'll be resurectng my long-dormant blog for South Africa's Getaway magazine and, in news just to hand, I've also been invited by my new good friends at South African Tourism to contribute to their blog. So it will be blog, blog and blog some more for me, in between trying to finish off this biography and write a ninth novel. Phew!

My round (most of) Australia promotional tour for THE DELTA has now officially ended, so I'd like to take this opportunity to say a big thank you to everyone who came to one of my events. It was great to see some familiar faces and to meet some wonderful new people. I love youse all.

Ummm... what else?

Oh, yes, SILENT PREDATOR comes out in the UK in November. I'll be launching a special promo through my newsletter soon to drum up support for the launch of my books onto the UK market, so if you haven't signed up for the newsletter then do so (click on the button thingy somewhere off to the left). Pronto.

Sales of THE DELTA are going very well, thank you very much, and are nicely up on last year's figures for IVORY. DELTA was number 8 in the mystery thriller rankings last week.

And, in late, late breaking news, raise a shot of vodka in a big nostrovia: yours truly has just cracked the Russian book market! Yes, true. IVORY and THE DELTA are to be translated and released sometime in the near future in Mother Russia.

Dasvidaniye, for now.

Sorry, can't help myself

2010-08-26T00:31:00.003+10:00

Here's another review of THE DELTA, this time from the Weekend Gold Coast Bulletin. Just got my free copies today from the second print run, and quite a few people have been emailed me to say they've seen the TV commercial.

I'm off to Orange Library next Monday, August 30, at 12.30pm for the last talk of the trip and I'll be at Viv's Travel Bug tonight (Thursday August 26) from 6pm.

Africa is calling... only a couple more weeks until Mrs Blog and I take off again. Expect fewer book reviews and more tales when we get back to the veldt.

Shameless, shameless, shameless!

2010-08-22T17:36:00.005+10:00

Like I said, what's the point in having a blog if you don't use it for shameless self promotion?

Here's another review of THE DELTA, this time from the very astute Mr Jeff Popple of the Canberra Times (oh, and Jeff, if you think this one was a bit long, wait until you see Novel Number 8 - it's about 60,000 words longer than THE DELTA. Yikes!)

(Click on the pic for a bigger version)

Favourable review, and favourite books

2010-08-19T10:36:00.002+10:00

As well as talking at libraries and drinking with readers, I've also been doing lots of media interviews during the tour, and my stylish and indefatigable publicist Lou has been organising book reviews. Shameless self promoter that I am, I just had to share these two clippings with you (oh, and brace yourself for more, for what is a blog if not a self-indulgent tool for shameless self promotion and free internet advertising?).

This first one is a short review in Brisbane's leading daily newspaper, The Courier Mail (in fact, it's Brisbane's only daily newspaper, but I can't say anything bad about it because the Courier Mail carries excellent, incisive, book reviews written my very smart people. And my cousin works there).

This second piece was in The Weekly, and it's me telling y'all about some of my favourite books set in Africa. I'm often asked what books I read, so, if you want to know, read this... (and if you don't, get back to work you slacker). Click on the pic if, like me, you find that writing is getting smaller and smaller these days.

Next stop, Narellan Library... and we have a winner

2010-08-16T18:15:00.002+10:00

The promotional tour for the Australian release of my new novel, THE DELTA, rolls on, although at the moment it's actually puttering at quite a sedate pace in and around my home town of Sydney.

Next stop is Narellan Library, 6.30pm, Wednesday August 18. I'm looking foward to seeing a library at Narellan because when I was growing up in nearby Campbelltown the only two things at Narellan were the Gayline drive-in movie (what... theatre? cinema? parking lot?) and cows. I recall many a fond night sneaking people into the drive-in, and being snuck-in myeself, though we pretty much left the cows alone.

I also recall a rather dangerous night when a couple of mates and I went to see the original Mad Max movie at the Gayline in my XR Falcon. The end of the movie was like the waving of a chequered flag as a fleet of Fords and Holdens set about re-enacting key scenes of that seminal flick, as teenage drivers challenged each other with calls of "I'll see you on the highway, Skag," and "that Skag and his floozy are gunna dieeeeee." Or something like that.

But I digress.

Oh, and yes, we have a winner to the "tell-a-lie-about-how-I-ended-up-with-stitches-in-my-nose" competition. Lest you think that I am a tight a*rse (or tight a*s as the winner might say), who wouldn't cough up the postage to send a book to the US and A, or that winning a competition once precludes you from winning twice, the winner is your very own Karen Bessey-Pease, of somewhere USA. Karen, you have won the TP book of your choice, other than THE DELTA (because I don't have any copies left and they cost too much for me to buy from the publishers).

In other news, I spoke to a customarily large crowd of customarily lovely people at St Ives Library in Sydney last Friday. I do like St Ives Library, as they a good get a turn-out and the lovely librarian Penny knows the way to my heart (mini scones for morning tea and a bottle of booze as a present). Thanks to you all at the library.

Coming right up later this week, post Narellan, is Concord Library, at 1pm on Friday August 20.

The tour is drawing to a close and my departure to Africa is looming...

Tasmania and typos - and I need your help again

2010-08-12T12:31:00.002+10:00

To round off the tale of my interstate tour, I had a lovely time in Launceston and Hobart. I met a number of readers in Launceston on a cold, drizzly day, and thought that the weather could only get worse as I drove southwards to Hobart. At least I think it was southwards - I didn't have a map.

Hobart, however, turned out to be quite a surprise on the weather front. Surprising on all fronts, in fact. And fun.

For a start, Monday was a postcard perfect day - cool, crisp and sunny with clear blue skies. I went for a run around the waterfront to Sandy Bay. I was staying at was perhaps one of the nicest hotels I've ever been to - the Henry Jones Art Hotel. It's in the old IXL jam factory or warehouse or whatever (remember the old commercials about IXL and Henry Jones? As well as making nice jam, Mr Jones pioneered the use of Text Speak - or txt spk as young people would say - by shortening his catchphrase "I Will Excel", to IXL. I think).

Anyway, Monday was free, so I spent the day exploring and had a smashing time. Monday night I spoke to a very good number of people at a book talk organised by one of my nicest readers, who lives in Hobart. She teamed up with local travel agency, Andrew Jones Travel, and we sold a lot of books, generally talked-up holidays in Africa, and made a tidy little sum off the book sales to send off to the School of St Judes in Tanzania.

Unfortunately, I soured my good relations with the Apple Isle by mis-spelling Launceston as Lunceston in the last post on the blog (which I have just corrected). Which leads me to the point of this blog post. Typos.

And now some bona fide news!

I am pleased to report, big head that I am, that sales of my new book, THE DELTA are doing very well. It is my publisher, Macmillan's best selling book this week. It is doing so well, in fact, that they have decided to do a second print run after just two weeks.

So, if any of you have read the book and spotted any mistakes or typos or whatever, then please let me know asap, by comments or email so I can make corrections in the second edition. (Crookedpaw, this is the chance for you to ante up on your remark about proofreaders).

Perth, Melbourne, Launceston, Hobart... I love youse all

2010-08-09T23:41:00.007+10:00

One of the great things about Melbourne is its trendy little boutique bars, tucked away in dark alleys. They're hip, happening, warm (important in a cold State), and welcoming oases amid the funky, slightly wonky, architecture of that stylista-rich city.

Unless, of course, you can't get in.

I have met more than one member of the Legion of Fans (LOF) on this tour, but nowhere has the concentration of y'all been so great than in Melbourne. Which was great.

My only event in Victoria this year was a paid function put on by Dymocks Camberwell's enterprising owner, Henk, at the Ebony Quill Cafe. Amazingly, a reasonable number of people paid to see me speak, and to buy my books. Henk and the venue put on a slick, nice, and value-for-money dinner and we moved enough books to make it worth is while (phew).

After the event, yours truly and a hardy band of legionnaires (you know who you are), decided that it was time to drink more. Henk gave us the heads-up on a trendy little bar not far up the road, tucked away in an back lane. The directions led us to a nondescript door - no sign, no, advertising, no name. This, I thought, was one of those places that one might read about in a tragically trendy (though generally useless) inflight magazine.

I knocked.

The door opened.

Immediately, incredibly, we were transported from the cold, drab city streetscape to a warm, welcoming space not much bigger than a large lounge room that was packed with beautiful young people dressed in black skivvies. They were laughing, chatting, sipping on cocktails, and quietly jiving in their comfy lounges to funky vibes.

At least they were until the door opened.

Now, I will not push the boundaries of journalistic/literary licence and say that all noise stopped and one could have heard a pin drop when we looked in. No one in the crowd of horrified hipsters said "we don't take quietly to strangers 'round here", but that's kind of what happened.

There was a noticeable lull in the tone and volume of conversation as the bouncerette checked me out. She looked at me with a look that clearly said "hmmmm, Sydney..." and then informed me, politely, that unless we had a booking, we could not be admitted. There was, literally, no room at the inn, and for the first time in my life I found myself on the doorstep of a pub for which one had to book.

Odd.

You'll love every part of Melbourne, so the advertising slogan goes... except for the bit they won't let you in to.

Undeterred (though quietly freaking out that we might not find a drink in this city), the phalanx of legionnaires and I pushed on until we found an establishment much more befitting Australia's number 2 (Australian fiction, for one week only, 2009, after T. Winton) author. Yes... a scummy suburban pub.

But we still couldn't get in.

On reaching the pub, we found that a band was in full swing and a $10 cover charge was being demanded. That was not an appealing option, but in the end our debate over whether or not to pay was turned academic by the fact that it seemed we did not all measure up to the dress code. Only in Melbourne, Legion of Fans.

Just as it looked as though we would retire sober and unhurt, an alternative presented itself. "You could try the gaming lounge," the bouncer suggested.

And so it came to pass, that the inaugural meeting of the Melbourne chapter spent the night among the melodic bada-bing and zipple of the pokie machines in a suburban melbourne pub.

I would have liked to have an overpriced drink a trendy back alley bar, but I much preferred the time I spent drinking cheap schooners with the above pictured people. Thanks to you all, and great to meet you.

I'm in Tasmania right now, on the tail end of the round (most of) Australia tour. The mini bar is emptying... a sure sign that it is time to turn in and set the alarm for the next flight.

Hey, I'm on TV!

2010-08-03T22:09:00.002+10:00

Here's the TV ad for THE DELTA, now showing on various free-to-air and pay TV channels around the country.

Fame, if not fortune, at last...

(PS: I don't know why none of my Youtube videos seem to fit in the blog properly anymore. I can assure you the original is not cropped like this, but you'll get the general idea)

Another day, another library, another time change.

2010-08-03T12:13:00.003+10:00

Here I am at Sydney Airport, nonchalantly posing beside a rather striking light box poster of my new book THE DELTA, desperately hoping someone would walk up to me and say, "why are you standing next to that poster - are you Frank Coates, having your picture taken so you can take the p*ss out of Tony Park - or are you really Tony Park, number two bestselling Australian fiction author (Bookscan figures, 2009, for one week only, T.Winton, of WA, 1st)?"

Yes, it's really me, sans stitches and now sporting a fairly rakish little scar on my nose. On the road again. To paraphrase the Hoodoo Gurus, "I spend half my life in airports... and when the bar is open you'll often find me warming a seat." Pretty much sums up a book publicity tour.

But apart from drinking in airports I also talk at libraries - lots of them. And, it seems, I often get the start times wrong in my newsletter.

ATTENTION GOOD PEOPLE OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA....

My talk at the AH Bracks Library at Melville, on Wednesday August 4 is a 6.30pm for 7.00pm start, not, as previously advertised by me, a 6pm start.

After that it's Mandurah Library at 2pm on Thursday the 5th, and then on Friday the 6th the gala Painted Dog Conservation Inc charity cocktail party at 7pm for 7.30pm atthe Hyatt Regency, 99 Adelaide Terrace, Perth (booze included in ticket price - contact Ange at lemonj@ozemail.com.au to book).

I haven't forgotten the prize for the liars' competition below - just amusing myself watching the intercontinental ballistic banter between you members of the Legion of Fans (LOF). I love it when you talk dirty to each other.

And now, for your listening enjoyment, here are the aforementioned Hoodoos with a song which reminds me of Afghanistan, but that's another story.

Important stuff re the current book tour!

2010-07-29T16:57:00.003+10:00

Don't forget, the competition to see who is the biggest liar is still running on the post below. I'm asking you to come up with the biggest and best porkie about how I injured my nose.

And now, some important announcements re the current book tour.

Friday July 30th (Goldcoast) - NOTE Correct time.

Angus & Robertson Southport event, Broadbeach Library Sunshine Blvd, corner Hooker Blvd, Broadbeach
Author talk, from 7.00pm (note this was previously advertised here on the blog and in the newsletter as a 6pm start).

Friday August 6th (Perth)

NOTE: there are still tickets available to the following event, so book now (please).

Painted Dog Conservation fundraiser. Hyatt Regency, Freshwater Bay Room, Cnr Adelaide Terrace and Plain Street, East Perth. Tickets $60 including drinks and canapes.

Author talk and charity auctions from 7.00pm for 7.30pm
Tickets: Angela Lemon, email: lemonj@ozemail.com.au

Click on the picture of me in uniform, on the left, for details of other events on my current book tour.

Win a free book to celebrate the start of my 2010 tour, you liars...

2010-07-28T17:12:00.002+10:00

I know I promised, recently, not to post anything about my current get-fit regime as I believed that would sound the death knell of this blog, but I offer this picture as a warning to you of the perils of exercise. This is me, with three stitches in my nose (and abraded hands and knees) after becoming intimately acquainted with the concrete footpath, near where I live, when I tripped over during a run on Sunday.

Ouch.

Double ouch. In fact, the fall didn't hurt all that much (although I bled like a dying baddy in one of my novels). What DID hurt however, like nothing I had experienced in my life, was the needles the doctor stuck into my nose to deliver the local anaesthetic. Triple ouch.

This, I am sure you will agree, was a fine look for me to be sporting as I kicked off my three week book tour. All is going well so far, with a drunken launch for family and friends last night, and a mighty fine event at the Grandview Hotel at Cleveland, in Queensland, at lunchtime today.

Predictably, the state of my scabby nose was the subject of much discussion and not a little mirth. I am afraid that telling people you tripped over while running does not engender much respect or sympathy. It doesn't really befit an author of airport action novels, does it? So I need your help.

I need a lie.

I need an impressive story of daring do that I can spin when I do my many book talks over the coming weeks - at least until the stitches come out and the scabs fall off.

How did this happen to me, do you think? Fisticuffs? Knife fight? Battle with poachers? Tangling with a wild African animal? You tell me and the best entry will win a TP book of the winner's choice (except for The Delta - you have to buy that one).

First review of The Delta

2010-07-23T10:24:00.004+10:00

And phew, it's a good one (Mind you, I'm hardly likely to be posting the bad ones here, am I?)...

Click on the pic to enlarge.

Also, don't forget that the unofficial sneak preview launch of The Delta happens tomorrow (Saturday, July 24). I know a couple of you LOF-ers are coming (thankfully). Come join us... beer, rugby, books, me... what more could you want?

Details follow:

Saturday July 24th (Sydney)

Jacaranda Party (to raise funds for the Fred Hollows foundation) Greengate Hotel, Heritage Terrace Room, 655A Pacific Highway, Killara. Australia-South Africa Rugby Test screened live from Brisbane at 8pm on the big screen. Tickets: $40, including a drink and nibblies and donation.
Tickets available from turravet@tech2u.com.au or phone the Turramurra Vet Clinic on 9988 0198

I'm gonna be on top tonight!

2010-07-20T15:58:00.004+10:00

We interrupt talk of Africa, books and shameless self promotion for some news that really matters.

Big night in Chez Park tonight, Legion of Fans, because if there is one thing guaranteed to get my pulse racing faster than a charging lion it is attractive ladies behaving badly... No, I'm not talking about Mrs Blog with a spatula, I am talking Australia's Next Top Model.

Yes, believe it or not this is my favourite TV show in the world, and no, I am not gay (not that there is anything wrong with that).

Yes, LOF, tonight is the premiere of ANTM, Cycle 6, with 16 thoroughbred fillies about to get down and dirty in the model mansion.

Spill the beans, Legion of Fans. What is your guilty pleasure, your dirty little secret (keep it clean, folks) that floats your boat out there in TV land? Confess! All of you, confess!

And for your penance I demand that you sit through this, the official trailer for Australia's Next Top Model, 2010. Watch it... it's expensive.

TP undressed.

2010-07-17T13:58:00.002+10:00

My friends at Booktopia did a little mini interview with me the other day asking some very embarassing questions. Read all about some of my less glorious moments here.

Warning: contains nudity and shameless self promotion disguised as self-deprecating humour.

TP - the interview

2010-07-14T18:37:00.003+10:00

One of the followers of this blog, Steve, runs an excellent website called The Australian Literature Review. It's chock full of stuff about books and writing and publishing.

Steve interviewed me for the website and you can read the full interview here.

So, if you have nothing better to do with your time, check it out but, more importantly, have a look around his site.

(See, I can be modest and self effacing when I want to be).

Why we do stuff...

2010-07-12T09:30:00.006+10:00

Being in between book projects gives me time to think (I don't, when I write, I just zone out, daydream, and write - there's a difference), and time to drink. Actually, I drink all the time, although I've been quite good lately as I am on a bit of a fitness kick. However, I will only blog about my fitness program if I totally run out of other things to write.

So, I was thinking the other day... why do people do stuff? Crazy stuff. I have two friends who have recently scaled or are about to scale Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest peak. To some people mountain climbing may not seem crazy, but to someone like me who has never (and will never) pay money to be cold, I think there is an element of madness in such pursuits.

I also have two bad knees, thanks to my service in the military. One is courtesty of a parachuting accident and the other is from falling while carrying a rather large Maori soldier on my back during a drunken piggy back race. Therefore the thought of trudging up and down a steep incline for days on end concerns me more than a little.

Curious about what makes people (blokes especially) do seemingly silly things, I asked occasional blog poster and regular TP reader Robert L-W why he decided to climb Mt Kilimanjaro. Robert did the climb with his sons, Sean and James, and nephew Justin.

He replied:

It really was just a different African experience, to go somewhere we’d never been before. (Robert, like me, is a hopeless Africa addict - TP).

It was important I do it with Sean & James – the father and sons thing. Not sure I would have done it without them, but I probably would have. Nephew Justin was a bonus – I mentioned it to him and he was very keen to go. It was a totally different experience for him (only been to the US and Bali before).

Plus, having turned 50 in November, I guess there’s a question as to whether you are physically capable of doing something like this. I’m getting old and falling apart. I injure myself more at the gym these days. So it was a challenge that I wanted to give myself, but with an African flavour.

I get all of that, particulary the bit about being old (I am not far behind Robert). I also plan on having a different African experience on my next trip to the dark continent - only mine involves drinks with umbrellas in them on a beach on an island in Mozambique's Bazaruto Archipelago rather than freezing my bollocks off on a mountain.

In Robert's email to me explaining why he wanted to climb Kilimajaro he also mentioned wanting to see the different eco zones the trek passed through, heading up from the savannah, through misty jungles, and then up to the really cold bit. Clearly, from the photos he took, he was also angling for some free books from me, which he got.

Robert pauses during his ascent of Mt Kilimanjaro to top up his adrenaline levels by reading the train scene in 'Ivory'

I have done lots of crazy/stupid things in my life that seemed quite normal to me. I have bungy jumped, parachuted (though that was mostly with the army, which has an incredible knack of taking the fun out of things), abseiled face-first off tall buildings and various other adrenaline-producing endeavours.

When I joined the army we had to do a psychological test and one of the questions was, 'when you are standing on top of a tall building do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to jump off?'. Naturally, I ticked 'yes' because I had often had those thoughts. After the test, I remember chatting to one of the other recruits and we were going on about how lame some of the questions were.

"Yeah," he laughed, "like anyone would be stupid enough to say they wanted to kill themself by jumping off a tall building."

Gulp. I sweated on that answer for the week it took for the army to get back to me and tell me, yes, I was crazy enough for them to take me. I thought, at one point, of writing a letter to the psychological testing deparment telling them I had reconsidered my answer, and that if jumping off a tall building meant dying then that clearly wasn't for me. Of course, I soon realised later (or perhaps my mother pointed out to me), that only a crazy 17-year-old would even consider writing to the army to tell them they were not crazy. It was all very Joseph Heller.

Anyway, I passed and, not surprisingly, a few years later I found myself at the Army Parachute Training School at Nowra where I proved to be a keen, though not very good, parachutist. I passed and was recommended for employment as a paratrooper (as opposed to being recommended for future promotion to 'stick commander' or 'parachute jump master'). It was the Army equivalent of 'very good, dear'.

But I loved parachuting, until I hurt my knees one too many times and generally got a bit older. The fun of flying around for an hour or two at low level, experiencng air-sickness inducing lurches, followed by the chaos of being pushed out the door of a hercules by 30 other adrenaline-charged traps behind you eventually lost its gloss. Like I said, the Army can take the fun out of anything.

So do we do these things for the moment? For the rush, rather than the reality? I don't imagine Robert particularly wants to get a job as a sherpa (or whatever the African equivalent is of climbing up and down a mountain every few days). I asked him if making it to the top fulfilled his expectations.

His reply:

Sh*t yeah. In hindsight, and without remembering the pain and discomfort, I’d do it again! It’s like childbirth! I probably won’t do it again, though, as I have other priorities. It was a huge physical and mental challenge, which I survived. Again, James & Sean were vital in this. We were the first three in our group up Mt Meru behind the guide, and we three overtook the guide to be the first three to the top of Mt Kilimanjaro. I had to show the boys that I was still up to it.

Right on.

Robert makes it to the top, in order to win a free book and prove he can do it

There are some things we all want to do before we die, just so we can satisfy our curiosity and craziness. I'm quite keen to try base jumping, although I have two reasonably valid excuses not to, namely: 1. It is illegal, and 2. From what I've seen of base jumpers I would have to get a mohawk and several piercings. I don't have enough hair for a mohawk and I wouldn't know what to pierce.

When I think about (legal) parachuting the things that turn me off doing it are the pain and the discomfort, and the fact that, well... I've done it, and don't need to ever do it again as long as I live (not for my army work, as I am quite deskbound in that respect, and not for sporting reasons because it wasn't that much fun).

But then just the other day Mrs Blog mentioned that her very young and fit personal trainer said he had never been parachuting and was keen to try it. "I'll take him," was my instinctive reply.

"Not you will not!" the small but vocal Mrs B said.

Which just made me want to do it all the more.

What about you, Legion of Fans? Do you have a mountain, literal or metaphorical, you have or would like to climb, or some other adrenaline-inducing (ie stupid) pursuit you have or would like to do?

Kimmy.... listen to MOII! Come hear me speak (please!)

2010-07-04T15:49:00.006+10:00

It's terribly embarrassing if you're a number two bestselling author and no one shows up for your book talks. (I was the second highest author of Australian fiction, after Tim Winton, 2009, Bookscan verified. Ok, it was only for a week, and there were probably no other new releases that week and, oh, about 200,000 copies difference between me and Tim).

I haven't actually had a no-show, although my record at the lower end of the scale for attendances was five people at a libarary outside Darwin. This actually turned out to be quite a good night, as the librarians had taken the (optimistic) liberty of opening half a dozen bottles of wine before the multitudes arrived. I did my little talk, in record time, and the six of us proceded to get hammered. Great night.

And here I am, once again, just a few short weeks away from commencing my next (sort of) round Australia book tour, to coincide with the launch of my seventh novel, THE DELTA.

Some writers don't like book tours, but I'm not one of them. I mean, what's not to like? I get to talk about my two favourites subjects - myself and Africa - meet interesting people (some of whom have read my books), occasionally get sloshed on ratepayer-funded booze, and stay in hotels and raid the minibar. I mean, really... it's not like working, is it?

And so, without further adieu, I unveil the 2010 DELTA TOUR. There is something here for all tastes and budgets, as long as you live in Victoria, WA, NSW, QLD, Camberwell, or Tasmania. (note, if you are easily confused by dates and times, as I am, the event in this list appears just below the date).

Friday July 30th (Goldcoast)

Angus & Robertson Southport event, Broadbeach Library Sunshine Blvd, corner Hooker Blvd, Broadbeach
Author talk, from 7.00pm

Tuesday August 3rd (Central Coast - Sydney)

Erina Library, The Hive, Erina Fair, Erina
Author Talk from 3.30pm
Contact: Benjamin Hartley, phone: 02 43047499

Wednesday August 4th (Perth)

Dymocks Booragoon event, AH Bracks Library Canning Hwy (cnr Stock Road), Melville. Author talk from 6.00pm.
Contact: Ann Poublon. Email: apoublon@bigpond.net.au

Thursday August 5th (Perth)

Angus & Robertson event, Mandurah Library 331 Pinjarra Road, Mandurah. Author talk 2.00pm.
Contact: Debra Dearman 08 9550 3651

Friday August 6th (Perth)

Painted Dog Conservation fundraiser. Hyatt Regency, Freshwater Bay Room, Cnr Adelaide Terrace and Plain Street, East Perth. Tickets $60 including drinks and canapes.
Author talk and charity auctions from 7.00pm for 7.30pm
Tickets: Angela Lemon, email: lemonj@ozemail.com.au

Saturday August 7th (Melbourne)

Dymocks Camberwell event, at Ebony Quill, Shop 115/4 Burke Ave, Hawthorn East
Author Talk in the evening (please contact Henk at Dymocks on 03 9882 0032 for timings and bookings, or email: camberwell@dymocks.com.au

Sunday August 8th (Launceston)

Petrachs Bookshop, 89 Brisbane Street, Launceston. Author talk from 2.00pm.

Monday, August 9th (Hobart)

Meet Tony for an informal chat at a pub in Hobart, location to be advised, from 5.30pm. (contact me via eamail at tonyparknews(at)gmail(dot)com, if you are interested, and I’ll provide location and other details on request).

Friday August 13th (Sydney)

St Ives Library, 166 Mona Vale Road, St Ives.
Author Talk from 10.30am followed by morning tea & signing.
Contact: Penny Xavier on 02 9424 0453

Wednesday August 18th (Sydney)

Narellan Library event, Corner Queen and Elyard Street, Narellan
Author Talk from 6.30pm.
Contact: Elysa Dennis 02 4645 5039

Friday August 20th (Sydney)

Concord Library event, 60 Flavelle Street, Concord
Author Talk from 1.00pm, followed by afternoon tea & signing.
Contact: Claude Broomhead on 02 9911 6351

Sneak preview of THE DELTA, and beers. How good is that?

2010-07-02T11:54:00.003+10:00

Well, there it is! Book 7 - aka, 'THE DELTA', and it's just a few short weeks away from release. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty stoked and I'm ready to celebrate with a beer or 20.

The official release date for my new novel is August 1, but if you would like beat the millions of people who will be camping out all night on July 31 outside the nation's bookshops, and have a beer with me, I have a better plan (it really is a bit cold for camping out, which is probably why people don't do it for my books).

Instead, I offer you this, Legion of Fans (LOF) - the promise of beer, rugby, doing good for your fellow man, and a chance to be the first person in Australia to buy THE DELTA (there's that name in caps again, just for those search engine robots).

Sneak Preview Function - Jacaranda Party at the Greengate Hotel. Saturday, July 24...

The Jacaranda Party is the brainchild of a mate of mine, Jim, who is The Turramurra Vet in the northern Sydney suburb of Turramurra. The Jacaranda tree is common to Australia, South Africa and Zimbabwe so Jim's idea is to get a whole bunch of Aussies, Saffies and Zimbos together to get drunk.

No... sorry, not get drunk... to raise money for the Fred Hollows Foundation and watch Australia V South Africa in the rugby. Entry to the party is $40 which covers a drink and nibblies, and a donation to the foundation.

I will be selling a limited number of copies of THE DELTA on the night, and all profits will go to the Fred Hollows Foundation (see, I am kind and generous as well as handsome and successful and modest).

The function will be in the Heritage Terrace Room of the Greengate Hotel, 655A Pacific Highway, Kilara. To book and pay for tickets, contact The Turramurra Vet at turravet@tech2u.com.au or phone (02) 99880198. The ruby kick off is 8pm.

I'll post details here soon of other events I'll be attending as part of my (sort of) around Australia book tour, which kicks off the following week.

Yes, yes, yes...

2010-07-01T18:29:00.002+10:00

Yes, I hear you, clamouring masses (well, Ali G and Heidihi)... I know I have neglected you all and I will be back, very soon.

Just handed in Book 8 (catchy title, eh?) yesterday. 180,000 words and still you want more from me!

The pain, the pain, the pain...

I'm having lunch with Frank Coates tomorrow, so maybe he will inspire me to blog. (Or at the very least I can post a picture of us drinking).

Also, big news to come soon. The release of my next novel, THE DELTA is just weeks away and I have to get around to listing the events on my next (sort of) around Australia tour. This year I will be visiting Queensland, Victoria, WA and, wait for it... Tasmania.

Thrillers infused with flavour of africa

2010-06-09T12:05:00.002+10:00

Here's a very nice article from a recent edition of the Canberra Times which mentions three of my favourite authors, South Africa's Deon Meyer, and Australia's Malla Nunn and Tony Park.

I met Malla for the first time recently at an author talk at North Sydney's Stanton Library, where she spoke about her new book, Let the Dead Lie, a sequel to A Beautiful Place to Die. She is an exceptionally nice person, so I urge you all to go out and buy her book (and a copy of my latest, WAR DOGS, while you're in the shop.

I'm very excited to see that Deon Meyer's new book, 13 Hours, has finally been translated from Afrikaans to English and can't wait to read it. You should read it, too, though if your budget's a bit tight, buy WAR DOGS instead.

Deon and I share the same literary agent and we have communicated via email. I hope to be braaing some wors and consuming some Castle with him some time in the future as he seems like a lekker oke.

A journey of giraffes

2010-06-01T07:19:00.003+10:00

We take a break today, Legion of Fans (LOF), from my shameless self promotion to bring you some promotion of me by other people. Namely, Queensland reader Robert Livingstone-Ward who is currently in Kenya en route to Tanzania.

Robert is the sort of friend I like - the kind who buys lots of my books. He and his sons, Sean and James, and nephew Justin are on a hardy safari which will take them to the Serengeti National Park, Ngorongoro Crater (or, as we purists say, Caldera), and the snows of Kilimanjaro. Yes, madmen that they are, they plan on climbing the mountain.

But before setting off for the tough stuff they're doing it tough at an amazing place called Giraffe Manor, in Nairobi.

Now, I rate Nairobi as my second least favourite city in the world. Port Moresby, in Papua New Guinea, where I've been a couple of times on all-expenses-paid vacations with the army is officially the worst place I've ever been, but Nai-robbery rates a close second.

However, I was gobsmacked to see Robert's pictures and to check out the manor online. I think that if I ever have the misfortune to spend a night in Nairobi again that I will be doing so with the giraffes. This place looks fantastic.

Pictured here, somewhere (because I never quite know where the pictures will end up in these posts), are Robert, Sean and James pretending to read some TP books which look like they may have copped a bit of giraffe slobber at the manor. (Oh, and in case you're wondering about the title of this post, the collective noun for a group of giraffe is a 'journey').

Well done, Robert and Co. For your blatant promotion of my books and pandering to my ego you've earned yourself a free copy of 'WAR DOGS', my second biography. (Out now in all good Aussie bookstores, RRP $34.99, and online from http://www.booktopia.com/).

Another book, another blog...

2010-05-30T15:58:00.006+10:00

Here it is, hot off the presses and coming to an Australian bookshop near you on Tuesday, June 1 (if it's not already in store yet) - my latest book, WAR DOGS.

WAR DOGS is the autobiography of Shane Bryant, an Aussie explosive detection dog handler working in Afghanistan. Shane and I wrote his story over a period of months last year in between his stints working as a civilian contractor in the 'ghan (as we used to call that terrible place when I was there with the army in 2002).

Shane is an ex Australian Army and NSW Police dog handler who took a job working as a civilian dog handler in Afghanistan in 2006 as a means of getting on top of his debts.

But it wasn't all about the money. Shane, like a lot of ex military people I know, wanted to go to Afghanistan to put the skills he'd learned in the army and the police to the ultimate test, on the field of battle.

He's a top bloke and I really enjoyed working with him on this book. There are loads of stories about the various dogs he's worked with over the years, including Ziggy, who was as laid back as Scooby Do; Ricky who loved nothing better than chasing Afghan civilians and motorcycles; and Benny the Bouncer, a dog so fierce in the kennels that the attendants used to slide his food in to him rather than open the door.

As well as telling how it is to work with dogs in one of the world's most dangerous places, WAR DOGS also provides an insight into the way the war is being fought in Afghanistan. Shane has been attached to US Special Forces and Canadian military units over the past four years. He's been in numerous firefights and, at those times, he's been expected to man his gun and function as a fighting member of the team he's with, not just as their dog handler. Good, gripping stuff, if I do say so myself.

Shane's providied a fantastic set of pictures for the centre spread of the book and I'll posting the odd on on a new WAR DOGS blog we've set up to shamelessly promote the book. On the blog you'll find videos, pics and interviews with Shane and some recent press clippings.

So, go to the blog, and then buy the book, because Shane has five kids from two previous relationships to support, and I have a wife who doesn't want to work anymore.

Hope you enjoy it!

Traditional dancing minus the drugs

2010-05-25T20:03:00.008+10:00

Traditional dancing...

Let me tell you Legion of Fans (LOF) if there are two words guaranteed to get me running a four minute mile in the opposite direction from the utterer, then those are them.

I can not stand it.

If you're a traditional dancer, then good for you... I respect you and your culture, but it's not mine. (If white Australian people had a traditional dance it would be chicks dancing around hand bags and blokes drinking beer.). So keep it to yourself and don't expect me, as a tourist, to sit through this thing that means nothing to me and then pay you afterwards. It doesn't happen when I'm in Africa and I wasn't about to let it happen in Asia.

However...

After my in depth investigation of the girlie bars of Phnom Penh, it was time to me to do some different research in Thailand. I flew to Chiang Mai via Bangkok and got the hell out of that slightly dodge-like city (not really my cup of tea - a big city in the middle of nowhere, regardless of the country).

Together with a travelling companion and a local operative (this is a very top secretish non fiction book that I've been researching) we commandeered a car and set off for the Thai-Burma border. (That's me (above) overlooking the border, which is just beyond that first ridge of hills). Drug country. AK-47-toting bandit and warlike hill tribe country.

Well, at least it used to be.

The Thai government has had a major crack down on opium growing in this part of the world and the ethic hill tribes who live there have been encouraged to grow other crops (inclduing, as I was to find out that night, some very nice lychees. Not as mysterious and dangerous as drugs, but very nice, and more befitting a 45-year-old man).

Part of my book will be there, and a key part of story is the plight of the hill tribes who live in the area, particularly the La-Hu people. The La-Hu, I learned, I think, are descended from Tibetans who somehow found their way to Thailand (this all got a little lost in our host's translation, but I'll get it sorted in time for the book).

The La-Hu and other tribes span the border of Thailand and Vietnam and until recently they were put in the too-hard basket by the Thai Government and not afforded citizenship or access to basic government services, such as schooling and healthcare. That's changing since the crack down on opium growing, with the reward for co-operation being promise of citizenship and all that entails.

The grey area that La-Hu and other hill tribes occupied in Thailand's population also meant that their children were prey to people smugglers and sex traffickers. (There is another hint about what the book will be about).

So, I spent some time outside the town of Fang, in a La-Hu village, but first my fellow travellers and I had to be welcomed to the village. And this involved Traditional Dancing.

But I must say, that when you're ushered into a temple and a group of people starts dancing in a circle for you as a genuine gesture of welcome it's very different to a bunch of waiters and waitresses doing it, under sufference, in the hope of a bigger tip. The young girls and boys and the elderly lady who welcomed us were doing this not for money (none was asked for or expected) but because it truly was part of their culture.

And, despite my usual dislike of these sorts of things I was dragged into participating as well (there are pictures of this, but thankfully I don't have them, so won't be posting them).

It was a good welcome to the village, because it broke the ice and I then sat down with some senior representatives of the La-Hu and drank a good deal of beer (they didn't all drink, but I certainly did) and did a bit of research.

That night we stayed in a bamboo house that's been built to accomodate trekkers in a fledgling tourist venture. I'm not sure trekking in these bush covered Thai hills is my thing, but the trekking lodge was a little piece of paradise, with a fantastic view, comfy mattresses and bedding, and mosquito nets. There was even a hot water shower.

Traditions means a lot to the La Hu and in recent decades they've seen some of them eroded by drugs, civil war, military crackdowns in Thailand and Burma, and the loss of some of their children to some very bad people.

They're looking forward to a better future, and I am looking forward to writing this book (if I ever recover from the research trip).

Shocking Asia

2010-05-25T16:47:00.003+10:00

Shocking would be the only word for it if I tallied how much beer I've consumed in the last five days and how little exercise I've done. Yes, Legion of Fans (LOF) it is a hard life researching top secret non fiction books... but a good life if you don't weaken.

I'm currently working on a synopsis for a third biography (my second co-written biography, WAR DOGS, by Shane Bryant and me comes out next week, so stand by for lots of shameless self promotion in the near future).

All I can tell you is that it's set in south-east Asia and, as a result, I was able to con (I mean beg for permission from) Mrs Blog into letting me jet off without her. My trip took me to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, and then to Chiang Mai in Thailand - two places I'd never been before.

I think I received more wishes of good luck and heartfelt messages to be safe preparing for this trip than I did when I went to Afghanistan. Probably a good thing, too, because there was little risk that my liver would give out in Afghanistan, as opposed to here (I'm writing this from Chiang Mai). All I did in Afghanistan was sit behind a desk and drink coffee, where as here I was treading the mean streets of the seedier parts of the two countries I've been visiting.

Yes, LOF, you won't believe this, but in order to immerse myself in the research for this book I had to visit several girlie bars in the red light districts of PP and CM. I know... can you believe it? The things I go through for you, gentle reader.

Being in deep cover I had to do my best to blend in with the local expats. This necessitated me pushing out my beer belly to maximum bloat, and keeping my fluids up with a constant stream of Angkor Beer in Cambodia, and a tasty new drop I discovered in and around Chiang Mai called Leo.

Cambodia was very interesting and it got me thinking about Zimbabwe. Yes, Zimbabwe.

Cambodia, the country once known as Kampuchea, was devestated under the evil rule of Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge. Millions of people killed and the country's infrastructure was wound back to year zero. The place was, in a word, rooted.

So it was with some surprise that the first thing I noticed getting off the Thai Airways flight from Bangkok - apart from the 45-degree heat - was just how modern and booming Phnom Penh looked. OK, the Khmer Rouge have been gone a long time now, but I was still amazed by how good the roads were and how much new construction and development was going on around the place.

Several people told me it was a different story out in the rural areas, however. Cambodia remains a very poor country overall, but there is an undeniable buzz in the city. Rapid development, of course, brings with it corruption, greed, theft etc etc and there's a bit of all that around if you scratch the surface, but the place is very much alive.

Getting back to Zimbabwe, the loss of human life hasn't been anywhere near as bad as it was in Cambodia (although the comrade president will one day have to be brought to account for the thousands of people murdered in Matabeleland in the early 80s at his order) and the infrastructure, while crumbly, is still kind of, sort of, in place. Seeing the foreign investment (whether it's good or bad) returning to Phnom Penh made me hope that I'll see that kind of surge in the Zimbabwean economy one of these days.

'Enough of the serious stuff and back to the girly bars,' I hear you say.

"No," I say, "Mrs Blog sometimes reads this blog!" Instead, I'll talk about the best place for a drink in Phnom Penh, the Foreign Correspondents' Club, or FCC as we FC's say. Here's me enjoying a chilled Angkor Draft in the bar overlooking the Mekong River.

The FCC is very old-world colonial pukkah and just the sort of ceiling-fan and leather-armchair place you'd expect to see war-weary, dissipated, corrupted old journos (like me) hanging out. My only regret was that I didn't have my safari suit with me.

Cambodia is the new Thailand when it comes to sex tourism and people trafficking (and there's a bit of a clue what the next book will be about, if I can get a publishing deal for it). Many of the working girls are from Vietnam, who've either travelled or been trafficked to Cambodia for money. Not very nice.

Phnom Penh moves at a different speed than other parts of Asia I've visited. Maybe it's the heat (incredible at this time of the year, just before the monsoon season starts), but there was a definite second-gear feel about the place. I got in a Tuk Tuk and I thought the engine must have been buggered because the driver didn't get above about 10km/h despite the lack of serious traffic. The second and third ones that I travelled in were just as slow - it wasn't the engines, just the laid back drivers.

As I watched the sun set over the Mekong River I adjusted my pace to suit the moment, and cracked a frosty bottle of Angkor and thought how sad it was that so many people had died for nothing, and how even a resurgent boom could bring its own suite of new problems. But Cambodia is on the up, however slowly, while Zimbabwe is still on the way down.

But the Walkabout Bar was beckoning, so it was back to work I went.

Shocking. Asia.

Library patrons of Australia, I salute you

2010-05-18T18:46:00.004+10:00

And the winner is... African Sky

Sometimes people are a little embarrassed to tell me they've borrowed one of my books from their local library, because they think they're depriving me of income. Other people make a point of telling me they only borrow my books and never buy them, and these are the people I always ensure get the expensive shout when we're a the pub.

But the truth is that those people who think they're cheating me should not worry, and those readers who think they are pulling a swifty on me should eat pooh, because libraries are actually a win-win for writers and readers.

You may not know this, but I, as a writer of books, get an annual payment based on the estimated number of borrowings of my books. And, cheapskates take note, this payment is coming out of YOUR TAXES. HAHAHAHAHAHA.

For all of its sins, the Federal Government operates an excellent little thing called the Public Lending Rights (PLR) scheme. PLR works under the assumption that if a public library offers my books to readers for free then they are depriving me of the stupendous royalites I would have received if those books had been purchased. And, not wanting to infringe copyright, the Government pays authors an allowance to keep us happy.

We're not talking big money here, far from it, but with six novels in print I'm finding that my annual PLR payment is quite a tidy little sum, thank you very much. Today I received my annual statement, for the year 2009-2010, from the PLR people (and the promise of some cash, to be paid into my bank account shortly).

I won't go into the numbers here, but librarians I've spoken to tell me that my books are quite frequently borrowed. A would-be reader from Tasmania told me the other day that all of my books were on-loan from her local library, which was no good for her, as she had gone in search of them, but good for me.

What I can tell you from the PLR statement is which of my books was the most popular with library goers. It is (minor drum roll, please), AFRICAN SKY.

Yes, AFRICAN SKY. I was a bit surprised, too. AFRICAN SKY is my only historical novel (set during WWII) and it tends to polarise readers. It's the one people always want to tell me about, and not always for good reasons. This is the book that people either love most of all, or hate. Nothing in between. It also happens to be the book that is most published overseas. Go figure.

In case you are remotely interested, the order of most borrowed TP books to least is:

1. African Sky

2. Safari

3. Silent Predator

4. Zambezi

5. Far Horizon.

If you haven't read African Sky, don't worry about trying to borrow it from your local library, as it's probably out. (I did notice a few copies in Target, however, selling for a very reasonable $12.50 a copy).

I almost hate to ask this (given that I really don't care what the answer is, as I like all of my books and don't have a favourite), but do you have a favourite among my books?

Forget the book, let's party

2010-05-10T12:04:00.006+10:00

Frank Coates (right) and me at Garfish

Yes, I am a terrible blogger and yes, I have been neglecting the blog. But my excuse remains the same, that I am slaving away on the catchily-titled 'BOOK 8'. I'm nearly finished the first draft but by Friday afternoon of last week I must confess I was a bit over it.

So the words of another Australian who writes books about Africa, Mr Frank Coates, seemed even more appropriate than ever. "I'm sick of all this writing stuff - let's party" was the subject line of a recent email Frank sent to me, and last Friday night was time to do just that.

Frank, and I got in touch with each other when we were both invited to go on separate cruises for P&O to talk at their on board Chapters Bookclub. We swapped stories of our experiences via email but hadn't met until last week.

Whereas my books are mostly set in southern Africa, Frank writes books set in East Africa. He lived and worked in Kenya for a while as a telecommunications engineer for the UN.

Frank and his charming partner and the diminutive Mrs Blog and I met up in Manly, at the Manly Wharf hotel and then adjourned across the road for an excellent seafood meal at Garfish. Several drinks were consumed and there was much talk about Africa.

It's hard, sometimes, for me to explain what it is that attracts me to Africa and what I like about writing, so it was good to meet Frank in the flesh at last. We sat there all night nodding at each other's stories and each knowing exactly what the other one was going on about. He's a top bloke and we got on well and are already talking about lunching, which could be dangerous.

You can read more about Frank and his books at his website, Footloose.

In other news, the PR machine at Macmillan is racing along in high gear as we get ready for the release of my new non fiction book, WAR DOGS, which is due out very soon, on June 1. It's the story of an aussie explosive sniffer dog handler, Shane Bryant, who works in Afghanistan.

And I'm just reading through the proof pages of THE DELTA, my new novel, which is due out in Australia in August, and in England in February 2011 (I just had to say that last bit as I am still very chuffed about my UK publishing deal).

What else... um, yes, that's right.. I'm off to Thailand and Cambodia for a week at the end of the month to do some research for my next (Top Secret) non fiction book. Can't say too much at the moment, or I'd have to kill you all, but at least a trip to South East Asia will give me something interesting to blog about.

Tears before freedom

2010-04-29T16:40:00.003+10:00

No shameless self promotion today, Legion of Fans (LOF)... no, instead it's a bit of shameless cross promotion, for Pan Macmillan Australia's new author, Steven Horne.

Steve's first novel, The Devil's Tears, set in East Timor, is in stores now and it is a cracking read. Steve's an ex Australian Army officer who has worked for a number of years as a military logistics contractor in Iraq and Afghanistan. We worked out, over a beer last year, that we were probably in Afghanistan at the same time, in 2002.

The Devil's Tears is the first novel that I'm aware of to be written by an Australian serviceman since our significant peace keeping operations in East Timor began in 1999.

You'd think a book by an Aussie about Timor would be full of lantern-jawed Aussie soldiers, pretty NGO ladies, loyal natives and perhaps the odd hot or hunky helicopter pilot. Not so, this story.

Instead, Steve's story focuses on the plight of a Timorese family torn asunder during the Indonesian military invasion of East Timor in 1975, following Portugal's relinquishing of its colonial possessions. The Devil's Tears looks at the long, bleak and terrifying years between 1975 and 1999 when thousands of locals died in a protraced guerilla war against the Indonesian occupiers.

Steve's depictions of the long struggle for East Timor's independence are graphic and confronting and it seems as if the family will never be reunited. Interwoven is the story of an aussie journo and photographer who travel to East Timor in search of evidence of an horrendous massacre of civilians. The journo and photograher dodge evil security forces and treacherous traitors to bring the truth to the outside world (and there's a bit of unrequited funny business going on between the two of them, which makes a nice sub-plot).

Steve is a fantastic writer and does an excellent job of combining boy-book action and chick-lit mushy stuff in this impressive debut novel. Even though it felt at times no one would survive this tragic story and the odds of a happy ending were perilously short, I was hooked from the first page and nearly missed my bus stop a couple of times while racing towards the conclusion.

As well as turning out a top yarn Steve is also an all round good bloke, so I urge you all to go out and buy this book and check out his website here.

The ANZAC diet... lose 20kg in six months.

2010-04-24T15:01:00.007+10:00

Me, 2002. Minus 20kg, plus hair.

It's ANZAC Day here in Australia tomorrow, April 25, the day we honour servicemen and women past and present who have served, and in particular those who died in the service of our country.

If you've read the blurb on the inside cover of one my books then you might notice a reference to me having been in Afghanistan way back in 2002 on an all-expenses-paid six-month tour courtesy of the Australian Army. I spent most of my war behind a desk, which was just fine by me, and while the SAS guys from the task force were out on operations the whole time, we were very fortunate in that no Australian soldiers were killed during my time there.

The biggest risk I faced in Afghanistan was the Amercian Army D-FAC, (that's dining facilitity in English). According to Napoleon an army marches on its stomach and all I can say is that the American Army is very fortunate in these days of high technology and rapid transport that it doesn't have to do much marching.

The American Army's food (and, I must add things have changed in Afghanistan considerably since 2002) was disgustingly inedible. It was early days in The War Against Terror (as we used to call it) and the kitchens at Bagram Air Base, where I was stationed, were pretty rudimentary.

No, rudimentary is too kind. The kitchens were non-existent. In fact, all our food was cooked (and I use the term loosely) in Germany, then frozen, placed in insulated boxes, and flown by C-17 transport aircraft to Afghanistan. The 'chefs' (and I use that term insultingly) in-country then had the tricky job of heating up the food and slopping it out.

The food hadn't so much been cooked in Germany - more like mass-produced. The Americans were big fans of something called chunking-and-forming. We had chunked and formed pork chops, chunked and formed steak, and chunked and formed ribs. Chunking and forming involves mashing up meat (no doubt all the best cuts, and no brains, spinal cords or offal), mixing it with some kind of bonding agent and then squeezing out the resultant goo into a mold in the shape of a chop, a steak or a rack of ribs.

As well as being disgusting, this food was also cruel. I remember the first time I was served up ribs and it looked like they were, well, ribs. I could see what I thought were bones and I imagined gnawing away on them. Imagine my despair, then, when I went to cut off a piece of rib and sliced straight through the non existent bone.

Breakfast was powdered scrambled eggs and greasy bacon. The bacon, of course, had been cooked on another continent, frozen, transported, and re-heated. I think the Bagram cooks probably tipped some cold oily water on it after taking it out of the microwave just to give it that finishing touch.

We only had two hot meals a day back then, thank God, and lunch was a Meal-Ready to Eat per man. The MRE, also known as Meal-Rarely Edible and Meal-Rejected by Ethiopians, is the US Army's field ration pack.

In true American style it is bigger than our ration pack and contains lots of things that in conflicts past you could probably have swapped for sex with underfed members of the local population. There are brownies, crackers, tobasco sauce, M&Ms, jalapeno cheese sachets,Lucky Strike cigarettes and nylon stockings, as well as a piece of chunked and formed something. (I may have dreamed that bit about the Lucky Strikes and the stockings).

About the only thing I found edible from the MRE was the peanut butter and crackers.

As I couldn't face powdered eggs and slimy wet brown stuff for breakfast, and my body rejected anything that had been chunked and formed I was facing a bit of a dilemma. But Australia Post and the Australian Army and the small but perfectly formed (no chunking there) Mrs Blog all came to the rescue.

One very fine thing that the military in this country gets right is the free postal service for troops. Friends and relatives can send deployed personnel (which is what the military calls people) free post packages of up to 2kg. So Mrs Blog got busy putting together food parcels for me.

Pretty soon I was eating Weetbix for breakfast, peanut butter and crackers for lunch (I actually liked the gooey American peanut butter), and various cook-in-the-bowl instant Asian noodles for dinner. I was in seventh heaven and, with my supply of Caramello Koalas and mini Mars Bars, suddenly a popular man in the task force.

The American Army at the time had a rule against the consumption of fresh fruit (as well as alcohol and pornography, so all in all it was a very unhealthy environment for young men and women to be in) so I had Mrs Blog send me dried fruit.

By the time my first consignment of dried pears arrived I probably hadn't eaten anything in the ruffage family for about a month. I don't even like pears (though I didn't tell her this as I was so grateful to be eating something dried rather than formed) but I found myself salivating as I opened the packet. That night, as I did my duty as a watchkeeper in the headquarters tent, I consumed the entire packet.

I knocked off about 2am and went to sleep. At about 2.45 am I awoke feeling like my stomach was about to explode out of my skin, Alien-style. I thought I was dying as I rushed from my stretcher and out into the night in search of the nearest Porta-loo.

It wasn't all quite as bad as I make out. Our own little task force did have its own cooks and they were able to source fresh rations (actual meat, vegetables, fruit etc) on a limited basis from the British Army's supply chain. Our cooks delivered a slap up meal when the SAS squadron was sending patrols out, or if guys had just come in from the field. On those occasions we desk dwellers across the road in the headquarters would be invited for dinner or lunch.

I will never, ever say a bad word about Australian Army cooks. Call them fitters and turners or tucker f-ckers if you will, but I don't think we could have survived without them in Afghanistan.

But I did survive, and thanks to my diet of Weetbix, peanut butter and crackers, and instant noodles, and a complete lack of alcohol, I lost 20 kilograms in six months.

I put all that weight back on when I got home, as I had a lot of drinking and proper eating to do to make up for six months.

When consuming a drop of one of my favourite brews the other day I noticed on the carton that VB (Victoria Bitter - good Aussie beer) is running a 'raise-a-glass' appeal to raise money for Legacy, an organisation which cares for the widows and children of fallen servicemen.

I immediately thought, of course, that this was a cynnical marketing stunt but when I looked at the website I found it was full of poignant stories of fallen soldiers and tributes to them by family and friends. I'm not a crier (never have been), but I must confess a bit of a lump did come to my throat, and I needed raise a glass to wash it away.

Reading the stories and seeing the videos of widows and family members also reminded me just how proud I was of the way Mrs Blog soldiered on while I was away. I was in an interesting (if dusty and not very nice) place surrounded by some of the best blokes I've ever worked with in my life, but she came home to an empty flat every night after work.

I'll be raising a glass tomorrow, especially to those serving overseas now; to their families who wait at home for them; and to their mates who didn't make it back.

Me, c.2009. Plus 20kg and minus hair. Raise a glass with me.

At last... some real news: a publishing deal in the UK!

2010-04-14T18:39:00.003+10:00

No more of the usual naval gazing... no siree! Big news and real news today... I have just scored a publishing deal in the UK!

I am very very excited about this. Recently I was lucky enough to be taken on by the London-based Blake Friedmann literary agency, and I can now confirm that they have done a stellar job negotiating me a deal with Quercus Publishing.

Quercus is the company that publishes the late Stieg Larsson... you know, 'The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo' etc and plenty of other excellent writers. They are publising SILENT PREDATOR in November 2010; my new novel, THE DELTA, in February 2011; and my first novel, FAR HORIZON, in May 2011, so it's all go, go, go on the new UK front.

Quercus will be working through the rest of my backlist (that is, all my old books) over time.

I get quite a few emails from the UK from people who have bought one or more of my books during a trip to South Africa, wanting to know how and where they can buy the others. As with Australia, I've found there are plenty of people in the UK who either have some family or other connection to Africa or are just fascinated by the continent, its people and its wildlife.

I can't tell you how pleased I am now that my days of walking down to the local post office with bundles of books for Britain will soon be over!!! (Though thank you to those good people who were keen enough to buy books all the way from Australia).

For the South Africans out there, your books will now be coming from the UK, courtesy of Quercus, so keep an eye out for them.

Good news travels fast and I was thrilled just a few moments ago to get an email from the extremely nice Jenny Crwys-Williams, who has interviewed me a couple of times on her popular book program on Johannesburg's Radio 702, congratulating me on the deal.

I am so happy I think I will have to go and have a beer. Or maybe two.

Cruising, wheezing and clumsy inhaler-induced segue

2010-04-04T17:26:00.002+10:00

Busy, yes busy as usual, Legion of Fans, trying to finish off this pesky eighth novel. Once more we have nothing but lame excuses for not blogging, but I assure you that the above statement is the truth and that I am, indeed, lame.

Yes, last week I was diagnosed with Adult Onset Asthma (AOA). I don't want to bore you (but, hey, I am getting old, and what else do old people talk about other than their medical conditions?) but this AOA sucks the big one.

In fact, it doesn't suck, which is the problem. I found myself quite unable to draw a breath there at one stage and, as a result, I have been prescribed not one but two different inhalers to suck on on.

All is relatively well now, and I was able to summon enough strength over this long weekend to embark on my second cruise on the MV Pacific Dawn, to speak at P&O's onboard cruising book club, 'Chapters'.

In between wheezy breaths, hacking coughs and medicinal alcohol I spoke to two very nice groups of passengers about my latest book, IVROY en route from Brisbane to Noumea.

A dirty job, I know, LOF, but someone has to do it.

The music selection on board the Pacific Dawn is interesting. Definitely aimed at the middle-aged market, the soundtrack to the 'sail away' party from Brisbane included not a few pommie 60s classics.

One song, in particular, re-entered my head after many years' absence. I have found a UK sterling version of it on Youtube and offer it to you so that you may share my obsession (it's still playing over and over in my mind).

Also, there is a subliminal, clumsy segue forming here, like a tropical tsunami deep in the bowels of the South Pacific...

I have news, LOF, big news indeed of a UK invasion of another kind... Stay tuned, but in the meantime, sit back, grab your ventolin or other recreational drug of choice, tune in, and drop out to the silken sounds of Herman and his Hermits...

Zimbabwe's thin green line...

2010-03-28T15:49:00.001+11:00

... is around the swimming pool, as a matter of fact, at the high water mark where the water has reached after a torrential overnight downpour of rain.

Our friends, who were kicked off their farm in the latest round of totally illegal farm invasions (as if you can class any of the previous ones as having a legal basis - you can't, of course) are practical people. Fortunately they've been able to find an empty house - a mansion in fact - whose owner is overseas, meaning that they have a place to live for the time being while they look for a house to buy.

Unfortunatelty, it has no water... and no electricity either.

So, they've rigged up long pieces of plastic tubing from the drain pipes on the house's gutters and run them across the lawn to the swimming pool. When we were there, in February after hour Tanzania trip, Harare was getting some good rain, so the swimming pool was soon full of rain water.

Of course, with no electricity, the pool filter wasn't working, hence the charming GI Lime Cordial colour of the water. And the thin green line.

"You don't have to drink it," I was told by my friend, in a rather matter of fact tone, "but you do have to use it for everything else. Buckets are in the kitchen. Isaac will fill them for you."

It was nice to know that even in a town and a time where there was no running water and no electricity that Isaac the African cook was on hand to 'draw' my bucket bath. "Thanks, but I'll be fine by myself," I said.

It was such a nice day, the air clear after the night's rain the and the sky a perfect Highveld blue, that I decided to make my ablutions outside. Mrs Blog decided to join me and to make a little party of it. So, armed with buckets from the kitchen (and with Isaac laughing at the tourists in their cossies), Mrs B and I adjourned to the lawn and gave each other a jolly good soaping and rinsing down with slightly green water.

Welcome to Zimbabwe.

Tragic, destitute, ridiculous, broken-down… but still fun at times. In moderation.

Things had changed since our last couple of visits. There was food in the stores, petrol and diesel in the service stations, and the laughable Zimbabwe Dollar had disappeared up its own decimal point, reaching a stupendously worthless $100 Trillion (equivalent to about one US dollar) before finally collapsing once and for all. Instead, the legal currency throughout the country was the South African Rand and the US Dollar.

In one of those "only-in-Zimbabwe' moments I made a tentative and possibly foolhardy expedition to the ATM at Borrowdale Shopping Village. The last time I'd seen an ATM issue anything other than cockroaches was several years earlier but to my utter astonishment (and great pleasure) out spilled several hundred brand spanking new US greenbacks (at, it turned out later, a very good exchange rate).

It was just as well that we were able to top up our cash as Tonka, our less than plucky Short Wheelbase Series III Land Rover had just been admitted to surgery for his third life-saving operation (this after the two previous stints with two different mechanics who each assured me he would be back on the road in time for my return. He wasn't).

With no vehicle, no electricity and no water we did what any self respecting Zimbabwean does in a time of crisis - we loaded up the 4x4 with whatever food we could lay our hands on and several hundred litres of alcohol and diesel and headed for Kariba.

There is something about that place.

Even in the worst of times in Zimbabwe I've had some of the best times I've ever experienced in Africa on Lake Kariba. It's like the African bush, but with swimming and sunbathing and fishing and excessive drinking. Kariba's always hotter and stickier than any other part of the country so nature demands that you slow down, smell the kapenta (tiny smelly dried fish that taste out of this world fried with a bit of chilli and garlic), and get something ice-cold into you.

It was February when we were there, on the houseboat 'Take it Away'. If you're an Australian then you probably think of houseboats as floating caravans. Not so Zimbabwean houseboats - think five-bedroom Castle Hill McMansion on pontoons (complete with swimming pool).

The weather was hot and sticky and overcast on shore, but as soon as we jumped on the tender boat we started feeling a cooling breeze off the lake.

There was fresh water (a man-made ocean of it, perfectly fit to drink when drawn from out in the middle), electricity courtesy of the throbbing diesels charging a bank of truck batteries, and hot water.

Well, sort of. The geyser (hot water heater) didn't actually work, and the black painted water tanks on the roof (an ingenious back up) didn't really work either as it was overcast. But it was pure pleasure being able to turn on a tap and stand under the water without having to hoist bucket after bucket from the green swimming pool.

It's all relative, you see. When you don't have light or water and you suddenly get them (even if they were dim and tepid respectively) it seems like everything will be all right. There's a now-old joke in Zimbabwe still doing the rounds: "before we had candles, we had electricity".

People can laugh in the face of adversity, and they still have a hell of a capacity for having a good time, even when it looks like things can't get any worse.

For four days we drank and we fished and we sat quietly on the boat and marvelled at the zebra, elephant, hippo, impala, waterbuck and various other creatures that went about their business around us in total peace and harmony.

Even in Zimbabwe, despite the best efforts of Robert Mugabe and his cronies our troubled, disposessed friends could still find a place and a time to be happy. They were once well off, but now have next to nothing. They're not in a position to leave, which puts them in the same position as just about everyone else, black and white, left in this almost-God-forsaken country.

The economy is still in a mess, and even though you can buy stuff with proper money, you're lucky if you have a job and a source of income. The opposition MDC is part of the much-touted Government of National Unity, but the government is unified in name only.

There's another thin green line out there as well: the under-resourced, underpaid, overstretched national parks rangers who are doing their best to protect Zimbabwe's last few hundred black rhinos and all manner of other creatures being hunted for their meat or other body parts. Like everyone else they're hanging on in the hope that it will all come right again, one day.

When we got back to Harare, tanned, tired and relatively clean, I stood with my bucket and looked at the slimy scum that rimmed the pool and I realised that until this place was truly scrubbed clean of the one thing that sullies it that things would never truly be right, or fun, again.

Ngorongoro and Serengeti - a set on Flickr

2010-03-13T20:11:00.003+11:00

Yo, Legion of Fans (LOF), I'm back, in what some call civilisation (rainy Sydney).

I'm already missing Africa and I'm looking forward to getting back in May for my next tour (there are still places available, by the way. Email me asap at tonyparknews (at) gmail (dot) com if you'd like to go to South Africa's magnificent Kruger National Park and Cape Town with me. Hurry, bookings close March 31).

In the meantime, to whet your appetite for all things African, here are maningi/hobos/stacks of pics from my recent trip to Tanzania...

(Warning: there are a few quite confronting pics in this set of a pair of hyenas taking down and devouring a wildebeest. Hyenas have suffered from bad press over the years, but, as I saw first-hand, they are expert hunters - and their kids are cute when they're little. Like Elton says, it's the circle... the circle of whatever)

Ngorongoro and Serengeti - a set on Flickr

The adventure continues

2010-02-11T21:11:00.002+11:00

Greetings Legion of Fans (LOF), he says, to the echo of his own voice through the empty cyber corridors of Blogsville. Are any of you (besides my relatives and the occasional googling Saudi gentleman looking for ladies in gorilla outfits) still there?

If so, you're in for a disappointment if you think you'll find anything of interest from me here. No, I am still in the business of driving you to my Getaway Magazine Blog here where you can find the latest instalment in my East African Safari series.

This time I've posted some stuff on the famous Ngorongoro Crater... err, Caldera. There'll soon be some stuff on the Sergengeti National Park. (which was, like, totally awesome).

Please go to the Getaway site and leave a comment, in order to impress the web editor.

Mrs Blog and I are back in South Africa now, land of electricity (well, it has electricity more often than Zimbabwe) and hot water. In betwee taking long, hot showers are doing some more outfitting of our new(ish) Land Rover, Broomas, in preparate for a jaunt down to the Natal Coast and a tour of the lovely Kwa Zulu Natal game parks.

I can report, with no small measure of relief, and no small measure of shock at the depletion of my bank account, that plucky Tonka, our orginal Series III Short Wheelbase Land Rover is back on the road, in all his black-smokey glory.

Tonka is alive and as well as can be expected for a truck of his age and is currently resting in the premises of Dr Frikkie in the salubrious suburb of Hatfield, near Harare Airport.

Myself, I have been busy doing the edits on my seventh novel and my second non ficiton book, and I am now about to pick up my totally disorganised, rambling eighth novel in a bit to finish a first draft in the next month or so.

Once I've finished my East Africa series for Getaway I will be back here with tall tales and true of our recent adventures in Africa including: the joys of bathing in algae green swimming pools; why Johannesburg Airport baggage handlers should be shot; the incredible lightness of intelligence of the Australian government in sending taxation officers to Zimbabwe; and the merits of polygamy and dancing, Jacob Zuma style.

The great East Africa Safari, part 1

2010-01-28T20:34:00.004+11:00

Greetings from Grimbabwe, Legion of Fans (LOF) where Mrs Blog and I are currently staying in a mansion, in Harare. Unfortunately, it's a mansion with no electricity and no water.

What fun it is to take a daily bucket bath on the lawn with water drawn from a greenish swimming pool. We're off to Lake Kariba next week for a houseboat trip which promises to be great fun (although we're secretly looking forward to hot showers, fresh water and flushing loos more than the fishing or game viewing).

Internet connectivity is still patchy for me, but I've managed to send off the first part in a series of stories about our recent adventures and misadventures in East Africa.

You can read my first dispatch, from Kenya, at my Getaway Blog, here

You know the drill - go there and leave lost of comments.

I'm back... with some belated, fun-police advice

2010-01-21T17:16:00.000+11:00

Hello? Hello? Anyone still there… or has Ali G and his legion of followers taken over this blog?

I’m back… for a little bit at least. Mrs Blog and I have been ‘up country’ (as people still say in East Africa), visiting Tsavo East National Park in Kenya, followed by the magnificent Ngorongoro Crater and Serengeti National Park in neighbouring Tanzania.

I will be blogging extensively on our recent travels, so sit tight and brace your collective selves for lots of pictures, and an expose of the good, the bad and the frankly ridiculous in a selection of East Africa’s national parks.

I’ve got a couple of days’ worth of reliable internet connection while we transit from Tanzania to Zimbabwe, via Johannesburg. Once in Grimbabwe I doubt I’ll be doing much other than drinking Zambezi Lager and fishing on Lake Kariba, so don’t set your hopes too high.

In the meantime, I have something to share with you… some priceless words of wisdom straight from the desk of the Head of Communications of South African National Parks. I chanced upon a copy of the SANParks staff magazine during my recent time in Kruger and I offer this belated advice from the editor to all her fellow national parks employees, for the Christmas-New Year holiday season:

‘Colleagues, please take your personal safety seriously, condomise and refrain from having multiple sexual partners. Sex has and always will be there, so there is no reason for acting irresponsibly as if this is something that is going to disappear soon. Love yourself and love your partner.’

Yes ma’am!

Kristmas in Kruger - a trip report by Ali G

2010-01-04T09:02:00.005+11:00

Greetings all, from suburban Joburg, where Mrs Blog and I are currently packing before jetting off tomorrow to Kenya, Tanzania and Zimbabwe. We're leaving our new(ish) 1997 Land Rover Broomas with his godparents here in South Africa and will be having a brief and no doubt tearful reunion with our Series III Land Rover, Tonka, when we get to Zim.

Mrs B has me hard at work doing chores, so I have no time to blog. Instead, I've enlised the help of Ali G, who has compiled a trip report on his recent visit to the Kruger National Park. Take it away, Ali...

The problem with being asked to do this and show some of the photos taken is that with my new DSLR I ended up taking some 700 + photos! Got a bit click-happy and a lot of it is crap but did get some nice ones I think. Was given lessons by TP on how to use it properly instead of leaving the camera setting on ‘auto’ which I admit [to my complete shame] is the setting I’ve used on every camera I’ve ever owned before now.

Sorting through the good ones it was hard to determine which few would give a reasonable idea of the just fantastic 2 weeks we spent with Parks & Wildlife [Tony & Nicola] at the various bush camps within Kruger National Park.

Think we ended up seeing just about EVERYTHING except the elusive cheetah and it was all terrific.

In retrospect the highlight of the trip was coming across a pack of 18 wild dogs trotting along the road for some 20 minutes or so. This pic is my favourite I think

Next one was this ‘zeberaffe’ grazing with his mom & dad…

Then there was Mr Giraffe behind the tree who seemed to be saying… ‘If you don’t mind.. a bit of privacy please’!

We also came across this guy, a yellow billed stork, who was fishing off a bridge we were crossing. He had his beak stuck down a crack in the bridge into the running water waiting for a fish to swim into his beak. Wasn’t fazed by us at all pulling up right next to him.

Our last week over Christmas was spent at Shimuwini bush camp on the river. Christmas day TP of course cooked his famous chook in a box with beer can inserted up its rear end while the ladies did a scrumptious roast pork in the house oven . .

My job was to peel the potatoes and drink beer and then get some firewood for the ‘brai’ so next pic is just before I cut down this tree for the barbie wood

Lunch was great and we spent the afternoon lounging with drinks in hand looking out over the river wondering what the poor people of the world were doing but not really caring .

Last pic here is of mother Blog [Lady Chatterley] with drinky in hand holding up a tree later in the afternoon with river & hippos in the background.

Merry Xmas and a Happy Two-zero-one-zero

2009-12-24T16:31:00.003+11:00

This is Africa calling....

Are you still there, Legion of Fans (LOF)? If you are you shouldn't be... get off the internet and go have a Christmas drink with your loved ones.

Regular-commenter, Ali G, and Mother Blog are here with Mrs Blog and me for Christmas. They seem to be having a good time, having spotted leopard, painted dog (a pack of 18), lion, hyena, elephant, buffalo, rhino and a host of grass and tree eaters.

They were last seen heading north in the Kruger Park, South Africa, towards Shingwedzi Camp in search of Cheetah. Hopefull they will make it back... if not there will be more roast pork, chicken and booze for Mrs B and me.

We have pictures by the hundred to post and I am sure Ali G is keen to show the world his new found talents as a photographer so I am going to ask him to be a guest poster very early in the new year.

Myself, I will be out of regular email contact for quite a while. I'll pop on when I can, but Mrs B and I are heading, in this order, to Kenya (Mombasa), Tanzania (Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti National Park), and Zimbabwe (Kariba and maybe Mana Pools) in January/February. None of these countries is known for its excellent interent connectivity.

I will, however, hopefully squeeze out a new year's newsletter in early jan, before I leave South Africa, which will include details of the next TP (that's Tony Park, not Toilet Paper) Safari, due to depart for South Africa in May, 2010.

So, on that note, to all of you from all of us (me, Mrs B, Ali G, Mother B and Broomas and Tonka the Land Rovers) have a safe and merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year.

(And on a mildly serious note, please spare a thought for the many Australian servicemen and women posted abroad this holiday season)

x

Shoo!

2009-12-12T21:39:00.002+11:00

Shoo! Getaway from here to Getaway Magazine, and read my latest blog there.

Don't forget to leave comments. I want the people at Getaway to think I'm famous, so that one day they'll send me on a hot air balloon ride over the Masai Mara, or to a B&B in Bloemfontein, or something exotic like that.

There'll be another post there soon... a very controversial one with lots of racism and xenophobia. You'll love it.

Snap slide show

2009-12-09T22:49:00.002+11:00

Yes, Legion of Fans (LOF), it's another slide show because, you guessed it, I can't think of anything else to write. Thank God for the Kruger National Park and its abundant wildlife and photo opportunities (and I know you really only come here for the pictures).

Work-wise, I am now at Page 176 of the new novel (nearing half way), and have completed my edits and re-write of the top secret second non-fiction book. This, thankfully, has been well received by my very good friends at Macmillan Australia.

If you've been having trouble getting hold of a copy of one of my earlier books in South Africa (and I know a couple of you have, because you've told me), rest assured that resupplies are on their way, via airmail, from Australia following a bit of a glitch in the supply chain system.

I do, actually, have some interesting stuff to write, but the swimming pool and cold beer at Skukuza Rest Camp are beckoning, so here are a few pics, instead.

If you think this bird looks odd, you should see him in the flesh 'n feathers. He is (I think) a black-bellied Korhaan. His call is a series of quacks followed by a noise that is - and I kid you not - exactly like a cork coming out of a wine bottle. To impress the ladies, during the mating season, he flies up into the air and then stops, mid-flight, like he has been shot, and then tumbles to earth as though he is dead. As with so many things in Africa, truth is stranger than fiction.

It's rootin', tootin' and fightin' season in the African bush, LOF, and everyone is at it everywhere. All of our major grass and leaf eaters are popping out babies left right and centre and that's as good a cue as any that it's time for some sex again.

Who asked for the Zebras? Ah, yes, Mr Shamrock Safari - he of the Zebra-painted Land Rover. Here are a couple of feisty stallions testing each other out to see who will have the honour of getting the most piggy back rides in the next few months.

The rainy season is good for raptors, which is what twitchers call killer birds. Mrs Blog and I, we just call them killer birdies. I snapped this chap just after he had finished a meal of Chameleon a'la mort du rue. He's some sort of eagle (I usually say Tawny Eagle, to people who know less about birds than me, when I don't know what type of raptor I'm looking at). I stand to be corrected (by Kathleen, I suspect, if she is still out there).

Anyhoo, this chap had a Black Breasted Snake Eagle (I do know that one), circling enviously and greedily above him. The Snake Eagle swooped this guy a couple of times. In the end, the bird above woofed down his Chameleon in one big bite. He had to waddle around on the road a bit after that (I know how he feels - indigestion is a bitch), before taking off in front of my camera lens.

"I could eat you, if I chose," this young fellow is saying to me, as I sat in Brumas the Land Rover, just metres away from him, "but I know I'd get in trouble for eating a tourist, so I only eat Mozambican illegal immigrants."

"Oh, sorry.... didn't see you there," (because like all rhinos he is half blind and therefore ludicrously easy for poachers to kill), "would you like to take my picture?"

Big, friendly, slightly daft, overweight, short-sighted and sporting an enormous horn. Is it any wonder why I identify so easily with the White Rhino, LOF?

Pygmy down!

2009-11-28T22:04:00.004+11:00

I ask you, Legion of Fans (LOF), is this not the cutest little thing you have ever seen in your collective lives? Couldn't you, to plagiarise my blogging friend the Crabmommy, just put him on a roll with mustard and eat him?

This is a Pygmy Kingfisher - more about him, and how he found his way to making a nest in our tea towel, shortly.

Apoligies, once again, in the meantime for the lack of blogging activity. As attentive readers would know, I have been hard at work finishing off the structural edits to my top-secret second non-fiction book. More on that in due course. Now I'm back to the comparatively easy job of cranking out another 140,000-word novel. Piece of piss, as we used to say in the army.

Mrs Blog and I have been having many adventures these last couple of weeks, in between edits, so I have no shortage of material to blog about. You'll just have to be patient with me as I get around to writing it (and getting back to my novel, which is foundering around page 135 at the moment). The next few posts have a distinctly conservationist theme to them, so get read to be alternately enraged and moved to tears (of joy, of course).

But back to the small but perfectly formed kingfisher (or fish-kinger as one of our young Zimbabwean friends calls them).

The Pygmy Kingfisher is, I believe, relatively common, but I rarely see them. I've maybe seen two or three in the last fifteen years of travelling around Africa. It's similar in size to the spectacularly colourful Malachite Kingfisher, but the Pygmy is no slouch when it comes to plummage, either. To give you an idea of size, he would fit easily into the palm of a short person's hand.

So, LOF, imagine my surprise when this little fellow landed, literally, at my feet while I was editing away. Unfortunately, he did not stop of his own free will - he flew into a window at the lodge where Mrs B and I were staying at Biyamiti Bushveld Camp, in the Kruger National Park.

Ouch!

And I do mean ouch. For a tiny bird he made an almighty clang as he sped, headlong, straight into the verandah's glassed wall. Mrs Blog came a-running and we rushed to his side. It looked initially, like he was dead on arrival on the tiles.

We knelt down and gently touched him... no movement.

We were heartbroken, LOF. Such a beautiful little bird, and it was a shame that the first time I'd got to see one up close he was, well... dead.

But not so! He raised a tiny wing. We suddenly went into rescue mode.

He opened his little beak, but no sound came out. "He just opened his eyes!" I exclaimed (hence the exclamation mark).

"Not this one," Mrs Blog said. She was looking at the other eye, which remained closed. How, I wondered, if he ever recovered would he fly with one eye? Badly? In zig-zags?

Mrs Blog fetched a clean tea towel, as you do, and we gently scooped Captain Peter "Wrong Way" Peach Fuzz the Pygmy Kingfisher into it (you either get that reference or you do not. This post will be long enough without footnotes).

I'd decided to name him because as we carefully moved Wrong Way to a lounge chair Mrs B informed me that she had heard of people raising injured birds as pets (in fact, now that I think about it, I wrote a book about a guy who did that - called Part of the Pride. The Lion man, Kevin Richardson, started on birds and moved on to lions).

We had some mini visions of Wrong Way accompanying us on our travels in Broomas, perhaps perched atop the camera box or sitting on the dashboard in the tea towel nest that he seemed quite comfortable in.

"This eye's open," Mrs B said.

And so, too, was the one on my side. It's the rainy season now, as I have mentioned, so there were no shortage of bugs around, including many thousands who, like Wrong Way, had sconned themselves on the verandah light the night before. I began scooping these up, so that as Wrong Way regained consciousness we would be able to begin nursing him back to health.

"Beak's opening again," Mrs B said.

Wrong Way sat there for about 15 minutes, lapsing in and out of consciousness. We hovered aorund him, and the maid came, and said, "Shame," before adjourning to sweep up some bugs.

Perhaps it was time for his feeding. With dead grasshopper in hand I knelt by Wrong Way's side and reached out my hand.

And he flew away.

Just like that.

Have a nice day. We did.

It's raining, it's pouring

2009-11-21T20:11:00.004+11:00

But Mr Blog is not snoring. He is working hard on the structural edits for his top-secret second non-fiction book. But he is taking time out of his hectic schedule to show you all some pictures.

He is also posting these pictures because it has been raining for five f@#ing days straight here in the Kruger National Park and I've hardly seen an animal (except for some resident elephents who pop by for a drink most afternoons at the growing puddle of water outside the fence where we're staying, in Biyamiti Bushveld Camp).

Before the rain had set in we'd also seen buffalo and rhino from the safety and comfort of our two-bedroom lodge.

So here, as much for my benefit as yours (to remind me that somewhere out there in all that rain there are, indeed, lots of animals in the kruger park) are some recent pics...

I snapped this handsome old bovine (this one's for you, Dozy) at the Delaporte water hole, not far from Kruger's main rest camp, Skukuza, when the weather was a bit nicer.

And if you think the locale for this lion pic is strangely familiar, you'd be right. It's also at Delaporte. Dedicated and eagle-eyed readers would recognise this puddle as the same one where my recent leopard-drinking picture was taken. Mrs Blog and I have seen four of the Big Five (minus) elephant, at this exact spot at different times over the past few weeks.

Baboons are everywhere in Kruger - in the bush, in the camp, in the garbage bins, and even in the tent (we had a break-in a couple of weeks ago. We are anal about not storing food in the tent, but sometimes a baboon or monkey will break in if they even see something that looks like a food container).

They're ugly things, but their kids are cute when their little and if you spend enough time with them occasionally they'll usually present a half-decent photo opportunity. This leaping lord was part of a big troop or 40 or so that we watched for a while moving along the Sabie River. They're not keen on water and would leap good distances from rock to rock rather than wading thorugh the fast current. Gotcha!

The eye of the tiger... I mean lion. This lady and 13 of her friends and relations were making short work of a buffalo right on the edge of the main road between Pretoriuskop Camp and Skukuza.

And here's the same pride at a different time of day. Light wasnt good (because of the f-ing rain) but I like the look on the cheeky little cub at the lower left. No table manners required.

Mrs Blog did an excellent job on the lions pics, don't you think?

If you've got a fave animal, post a comment if you'd like to see it. Short of Pangolin or Aardvaark I could very well have a picture of it. If I don't I'll go hunting for the big game of your choice, because that's the kind of blogger I am.

(PS: rain has stopped but work continues apace).

Getaway from here... the lot of you!

2009-11-19T21:19:00.003+11:00

I've resurrected my blog at South Africa's Getaway magazine, so scoot on over and have a read here (and leave a comment so it looks like I have millions of readers).

I've written a post about some truly wild and fierce African animals. Warning: contains high level violence and sex scenes.

More pics comning soon - promise.

1997 Land Rover Defender 300Tdi Low Kms, mint condition, fully equipped safari vehicle.

2009-11-15T23:19:00.005+11:00

No, it's not for sale!!! But if that hasn't attracted a few random googling Land Rover fans to the blog then I don't know what will. If you have joined us by mistake, sorry, but please read on.

He’s big, he’s white, he’s cool and he’s loveable… so it’s no wonder our new Land Rover is named after a polar bear.

Legion of Fans (LOF), meet Broomas. Here he is, below, proudly posing with his new roof top tent, awning, and his svelte but camera-shy mummy (complete with trendy new cowgirl hat).

Broom-broom Broomas is named after Brumas, the first polar bear to be born in captivity at the London Zoo, way back in 1949. When she was even shorter than she is now, Mrs Blog used to have a stuffed polar bear, which mother-in-law Blog named after the famous Brumas.

Broomas is a 1997 300Tdi Defender Hard Top, and he goes like the klappers. He cruises nicely at 110kph and I’ve had him up to 120kph. This may not sound all that staggering to you owners of sports cars and Japanese people movers, but believe me, 120kph is about as fast anyone should go in the mobile house brick that is the Land Rover.

Did I mention he also has power steering? This is nice, although the good thing about faithful old Tonka, our other Land Rover, is that when I drive him for extended periods I end up with arms like an East German female shot-putter. Broomas’ steering has resulted in me reverting to type and looking like a 45-year-old man who types for a living.

Such is life.

Before I get any hate mail from Series Land Rover owners, or snarky comments from Doctors Nietske or Kervorkian, let me state for the record that Tonka is alive an (sort of) well, and is definitely here to stay.

Our plan is to keep Tonka in Zimbabwe, where he is registered, and use him for short trips to the bush only. He is getting very old (24 this year) and his plucky little 2.25litre diesel heart is not as plucky as it used to be. His top speed these days is about 70 kph.

But the rest of Africa is waiting for Broomas and we hope to give him many adventures in the years to come (no doubt with some attendant heart ache).

For now, though, he is purring like a singer sewing machine with a turbo. He likes puttering about the Kruger Park at low speeds, yet he also takes the mountainous hills of Mpumalanga in his stride and likes nothing better than to be given his head on the N4, trusty steed/bear that he is.

And now, for the gadgets…

Mrs Blog and I have spent a frankly terrifying amount on camping gadgets in the last couple of weeks while we prepare Broomas to take over the mantle as Africa’s ultimate safari vehicle. So far, we have purchased:

- Easi-awn Rooftop tent (the T-top variety, for those of you who are interested. The T-top provides a nifty overhang to give shelter over the ladder and door, so you don’t get wet when going for a midnight pee in the rain)

- Easi-awn retractable awning. This is like a roller blind with legs. Very quick to erect and stow, though one of the leg stays has a nasty habit of biting my fingers and removing chunks of my flesh

- High-lift jack (no macho safari vehicle is complete without one, even though incorrect use can cost you an eye, a tooth or a life)

- Front-runner roof rack (Broomas came with an old Brakhah aluminium roof rack, but it was frot – which means buggered)

- Two(expensive) tubular steel and canvas Campmor camping chairs

- One (cheap) fold-up guest chair

- Two lightweight aluminium roll-top camping tables (these are brilliant, by the way)

- 52-litre stainless steel National Luna compressor driven fridge. “Think of it as investment in the future…” said the slick salesmen as I wobbled at the knees while handing over my Visa card

- Roof bag, jerry can holders (supplied with Broomas), spade, external gas bottle holder, and esky (cooler box to you South Africans out there).

Of course, we’ve also spent big on the little essentials of camping, such as plates, knives and forks, pots and pans, potato peeler, Tupperware, etc etc etc etc.

As with Tonka one thing we’ve skimped on is storage. I’m not a fan of fitted roller draws or other fancy-schmancy storage devices. Mrs Blog and I go for plastic storage boxes – and cheap ones at that.

Broomas is a work in progress and no doubt the storage configuration will evolve over the years as we get to know him. It’s a mistake, I believe, to spend too much on his innards at this early stage. Our boxes (one for food staples, one for kitchen utensils, one for books, one for computers, and one for the hard-bodied Mrs Blog’s exercise gear) all cost about R70 (AUD$10-ish) each.

Annoyingly, Broomas is fitted with no fewer than three anti-theft devices. He has an alarm, an immobiliser and an anti-hijack cut out device. Just starting him requires a complex series of stalk-docking and button pushing exercises that would put the Kama Sutra or a NASA pre-flight manual to shame.

Pleasingly, he doesn’t drip any oil (yet). I had some worrying moments early on, after collecting Broomas when I would check underneath him and find no oil splodges. Land Rovers are notorious leakers (in fact, they’re just marking their territory), and for a while I wondered whether he had any gear box or engine oil in him at all.

Best of all, Broomas has flow-through airconditioning – the pop-open vents in the front which have sadly (and stupidly) been welded shut on the latest Defenders, and two other critical cooling devices – twin beverage holders on the dashboard.

But bestest of all, Broomas is ours. Mrs Blog and I think of Broomas as our second child, a baby brother to Tonka. Are we mad? Of course. It’s a Land Rover thing.

What do you reckon, LOF? Any ideas on how I can further pimp my camping ride?

Spot the Cheetah - quickly

2009-11-11T22:42:00.004+11:00

When you come to Africa, to travel on safari with me on one of the lavish safaris I plan on continuing to lead (as long as my good friends at the Africa Safari Co keep paying my airfares), you will learn the hard way that the cheetah is the most difficult of the larger killing animals to spot.

This due, in my scientific opinion, to three rules, namely:

1. There are not many of them. In the Kruger Park, where Mrs Blog and I are currently residing, there are only about 200.

2. Cheetah, in my experience, tend to be a bit flightly. They seem to be nervy, highly strung creatures, not prone (generally speaking) to hanging around and waiting for you to pull out your camera, remove the lens cap, then remember to turn it on, and

3. I will only ever see something very interesting, such as a cheetah, when I am in a rush to get out of the park, or back to camp before the evening curfew.

There are exceptions to all rules, of course. While there are not many cheetah, there are some who stick to pretty well defined territories, so if you know where to look, you might find one, such as this particularly impressive specimen...

Mrs B and I have seen this fellow so many times (about four, all up - which is a lot in terms of cheetah spotting) that we have given him a name. Spot.

One of the boundaries of Spot's territory is the dirt road that runs between Numbi and Phabeni gates in the south east of Kruger. When we've seen spot he's bee scent marking (poohing and weeing, to you and me) on prominent bits of high ground along the road, such as this tree.

Cheetah don't lounge around in trees (like leopard), but they do like getting up on things to mark their turf, and to scan the surrounding country for meals.

In contravention of rule 2 (see above), Spot is not nervy, flighty or highly strung. He's a big male who is very sure of himself and very unafraid of people in cars. In this respect he's like a lion. He couldn't give a Cheetah's squeak (they do squeak, rather than growl or roar) about tourists. Spot strides down the road like the Leonardo di Caprio of the veldt - king of the world, if you will. He also does OK with the ladies and we have seen him in the company of female, who we christened Dorothy (Dot... get it?).

As to rule 3 (above) Mrs B and I invariably see cool things on the odd occasion that we are in a rush, and that doesn't happen very often.

On the day we last saw spot we were hurrying to Hazyview to pick up Miss T, a former work colleague of Mrs Blog's, who spent a week with us (I must add, here, for the record that Miss T was very low maintenance, and well up for a bit of the old animal spotting, which makes her our ideal type of guest. Plus, she left behind a cool cowgirl hat that Mrs Blog has taken to wearing, so all in all, a good visit).

Yesterday, we were rushing to get out of the park to the nearby town of Nelspruit so I could get an anti-hijack immobiliser thingamebob fitted to our new(ish) Land Rover, Broomas. Broomas already had an alarm and an immobiliser, but that wasn't enough to satisfy the insurance company in the land of the car-jacking.

Of course, we saw a leopard, didn't we... stalking impala just near Malelane Gate, and didn't even have time to get a decent picture.

Winged Wednesday

2009-11-04T20:34:00.005+11:00

I know you all come here for the pictures rather than the articles, but how many of you are into birds (the feathered kind, Ali G)?

Here are a few random feathered photos from the trip so far:

These chirpy little fellows are red-billed oxpeckers. I took this pic in the Kruger Park some time in the last couple of weeks. Their job is to pick ticks and other parasites off mammals, such as buffalo (which is what these ones are riding on), rhino, giraffe and other assorted grass eaters. At the same time, they act as an early warning system, chirping to notify the host animal if there's a predator in the area. In Swahili this bird is known as Askari wa Kifaru, which means "guard of the rhino". See, you learn something every day.

And above, we have the Lilac Breasted Roller, which is probably the first bird any visitor to southern Africa gets to know. It's common as muck and gaudy as hell. My kind of bird.

True twitchers might appreciate this chap (or chapess) above. It's a Crowned Hornbill, and it's the first one I've seen in 15 years of touring the dark continent. The yellow billed (of Lion King fame) and red billed hornbills are far more common. I bagged this beauty on a drive from the luxurious Tinga Private Game Lodge recently.

Come on, who can resist a penguin? These cute as a button little Burgess Meredith impersonators live on Boulders Beach, Cape Town, which is, like, the world's smallest national park or something. I visited this colony with the incredibily fortunate and damned-fine people who made up the inaugural Silent Predator Safari tour, in September. You, too, could be snapping penguins and many other creatures great and small with me if you have the guts and the bucks to join me on one of my tours (sign up for the newsletter, top left, if you think you have what it takes...)

And finally, a serene shot of a cormorant, taken from above, at the lighthouse at Cape Point. Let it not be said that I don't take you from one end of Africa to the other (this is the southernmost bit, and some time ago, you may recall I was blogging from Libya, which is up the other end).

MTC (mammals to come. Soon. Promise)

I've gone to the dogs

2009-11-02T17:32:00.004+11:00

Big news... I have been appointed as one of the patrons of the Australian-based wildlife charity Painted Dog Conservation Inc!

When I started writing books about Africa I hoped that one day there would be some way I could do something via my writing to help raise awareness (or money) for conservation issues.

After a false start (in which one organisation told me they didn't want me to help them raise money because I wasn't famous enough - ouch), I was contacted out of the blue one day by John and Angela Lemon, who run the Painted Dog Conservation organisation in Western Australia.

John and Ange had read my third book, SAFARI which features a (very attractive) painted dog researcher, Michelle Parker, who is based in Hwange Natioinal Park, Zimbabwe. As it turned out, John and Ange had also been working on dog research and conservation in the same park, and John had been instrumental in building a painted dog interprative centre and refuge just outside Hwange's Main Camp.

Readers with long memories may recall that I've spoken at a couple of John and Ange's fundraisers over the past two years, and auctioned off names in my books to help them raise money. There are a couple of big donors to the cause who feature as characters in my latest book, IVORY.

Painted Dog Conservation Inc supports in-situ painted dog research and conservation projects in Namibia and Zimbabwe.

The interpretive centre, which I visited recently during my trip to Zimbabwe, is quite frankly the best facility of its kind I have ever seen. And I'm not just saying this because I'm now a patron. (I'm standing out the front of the centre in the picture up the top of this post).

The centre provides a wealth of informaiton about the endangered painted dog via the (mostly true) story of one plucky doggy, named Eyespot. Large colourful murals paint the painted dog picture in a way kids (and grown ups) can absorb information, and have their heart strings tugged at the same time.

There's no entrance fee to the centre, though by the time you've heard all of Eyespot's trials and tribulations (delivered in a very warm, and very polished manner by the lady guide) you can't wait to get your wallet out.

Interestingly, and scarily, the entire building (and it's a biggy) is made of mud bricks reinforced by snare wire. Subsistence poachers place snares in the national park to trap small buck, such as Impala, for food, but curious predators (like the dog below) and every other manner of mammal also get ensnared. One of the main activities of the dog conservation project in Hwange is anti-poaching patrols and snare collection.

As well as educating visitors and locals alike, the centre also functions as a refuge for injured or otherwise disadvantaged painted dogs. While I was there visiting the centre was caring for a litter of puppies whose parents had been killed by lions. With other animals these might have been left to die in the wild, but there are so few painted dogs left in Africa (only about 2,500) that these little doggies had to be saved.

Our guide around the enclosures, Xmas, (that's him and me below) told us that once the pups reached a certain age (big but not too big) they should be able to be reintroduced to the wild and adopted by another pack. What nice animals these dogs are.

Now, I'm not sure what a patron is supposed to do, so if you have any ideas, please let me know. For now, it's probably enough that you all click through to the website here and learn a bit more about painted dogs.

I might not know what to do, but I am touched and honoured to have been invited to lend my ongoing support to this very good cause.

Tony Park Parkcast Episode 4: Ivory

2009-10-29T20:24:00.001+11:00

Click to Play

Jimbob talks to Australian author Tony Park about his new novel set in Africa, Ivory.

Hellooooo, breakfast.

2009-10-26T19:09:00.003+11:00

Suffering suckotash... click on this pic to enlarge it (if you have bad eyes like me). This is a real pic I took of a lioness in Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe, taking a very close interest in some national parks workers (to the right of the pic) who were repairing the water pump at the Dom waterhole.

Feel free to email this pic to millions of people around the world, with my blog address attached, so that I will become famous.

Let the slideshow begin

2009-10-25T18:36:00.005+11:00

The famous Martie Goddard (see interview below) has inspired me to get posting on the pic-front, Legion of Fans (LOF), so herewith for your enjoyment (I hope) are a few random snaps from the 09 safari so far...

You never know when you're going to see a leopard. Mrs Blog and I have had some of our best leopard sightings in the middle of the day and this one (above) was one of those. We were on our way from Pretoriuskop in the Kruger Park to the luxurious Tinga Private Game Lodge (the setting for my fifth book, SILENT PREDATOR) to visit a reader who had booked out one of Tinga's two camps in its entirety for his 70th birthday.

Mrs P and I were more intent on thoughts of a gourmet lunch and a splash in our private plunge pool than animals, and it was a stinker of a day so we didn't expect to see much. As we crossed the river near the Delaporte water hole, not far from Skukuza, Mrs B yelled out "STOP." which is a sure sign that I'm either snoozing and veering off the road, or that there is an interesting animal to be seen. Fortunately it was the latter.

"Oh baby, come with me to zee casbah... I wish to 'old you in my arms and..." We came across Pepe le Pew (above) and his significant other near Dom pan in Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe (there is, as you can see, no particular order to these pictures. This one was taken a few weeks ago). This very healthy mating pair of lions were at it, in true lion fashion, about every 10 minutes. It's good to be the king of the beasts, but hard work sometimes.

And here he is (above), showing his Angry Dragon face. These two lions were both collared, which made taking pics of them quite hard. However, they were both in magnificent condition.

Here's the male again, looking quite tough, but in fact he's (literally) shagged out.

Moving right along, and again in no particular order, above we have a picture of a Yellow Billed Kite teaching a frog how to fly.

Mrs Blog and I sat for ages at Guvalala Pan, in Hwange, watching a squadron of Kites snatching frogs from the waterhole. Kites aren't (as far as I know) great fishing birds, but the masses of forgs in the waterhole represented a target-rich environment for these Top Guns. Time after time each bird swooped and picked up a big fat frog. Sometimes they were successful, and landed nearby for a meal of frog's legs and gizzards, but often the slippery suckers would slide from their talons.

This frog (probably one of the lucky ones, if he survived his first flight) bounced, dambuster-bomb-style, along the surface of the pond.

And to round things off it's back to Kruger again. I took this pic in the Tinga Private Game Lodge concession, on the banks of the Sand River. This lady and her family were busy devouring a kudu, and she'd taken a breather (a panter, actually) to try and digest her dinner.

This sighting was during the fabulous SILENT PREDATOR SAFARI in which eight lucky readers enjoyed some truly magnificent game viewing in between their bubble baths and sumptuousfeasts at Tinga.

If you're interested in coming on safari with me in Africa in 2010, drop me a line at tonyparknews(at)gmail (dot) com and I'll put you on my newsletter distribution list. The newsletter will have details of future tours, and more pictures to make you wish you were here, with me, in Africa.

The Martie Goddard interview...

2009-10-22T00:30:00.005+11:00

If you've visited this blog before you'll know that the diminutive Mrs Blog and I spend six months of the year in Africa and six months back in Australia.

On an average trip we’ll spend two to three months in the Kruger National Park. The wildlife is great here (where I am right now), the camp sites have electricity, and there are shops in the park selling cold beer. What more could you want?

We like to think of ourselves as Kruger regulars, but our experiences pale into insignificance when you consider that Martie Goddard, who is camping near us in Malelane Camp in the south of Kruger, is spending A WHOLE YEAR in Kruger. She’s traveling solo in a caravan.

She is, in her own words, living her dream. Martie is also writing a blog, and unlike me she actually does have a LEGION of fans. Last month, Martie had 132,000 hits on her blog, and this month she’s hoping for 150,000.

I won’t tell you how many hits I get a month, but suffice it to say, I would be a very happy man if I had nearly as many hits on my blog as Martie has on hers, and if as many people read my books as read Martie’s blog I would be a very rich man.

Martie has become something of a celebrity here in the park, and has been interviewed on national radio. You can read Martie's blog, in which she posts pictures of interesting animal and bird sightings on the South African National Parks' website here.

While cooking an extraordinary dinner for Mrs Blog and me on her braai (barbie), Martie agreed to be interviewed by me on the eve of her 171st day in Kruger.

(To all Martie's regulars who were wondering why she didn't blog last night, I'm afraid I'm to blame, but as a consolation, here is the interview...)

TP: Who is Martie Goddard, in 25 words or less?

MG: Let me get a beer first. I’m 45 years old, South African, with two children, Megan and Carmen, aged 25 and 21. Megan teaches children with special needs and Carmen is in her final year of wildlife management studies. I’m married to Stephen and we live in Doha in the Middle East. We’ve lived there for 11 years. Isn’t that 25 words already?

TP: Yes. Why are you spending a year in Kruger?

MG: I always tell people life is too short not to do what you really want to. If you come here for five, 10, 15 days, it’s never enough. So why not a year? Here I can bring Kruger to people who can’t come here, and there are many people in the world who know about Kruger, but don’t have the means to get here. Even in SA there are people who might never be able to come here.

TP: So it’s not just the world’s longest holiday?

MG: No. My husband says it’s not a holiday. That’s why I can’t have a beer at 7 in the morning. He says this is my job – and writing my blog.

TP: What did Stephen say when you told him you wanted spend a year away from home?

MG: A few months before we left, he sat me down and said, ‘you know what, we’ve never actually discussed you going!’ At first he didn’t believe I was going to do it. Then I got a second job, teaching English in Doha (at the moment Martie’s main job is as the PA for an investment company). I taught English in the evening in order to fund the trip. I think Stephen only realised it was serious because I messaged him to say it was 40 days until I left.

A lot of people probably thought I would go for a month, three months or six months. Maybe I didn’t think I’d make the whole thing, but I’ve always been someone who will see something through.

TP: What’s the longest period you’d spent in Kruger before this.

MG: 14 or 15 days.

TP: Why Kruger – why not travel around South Africa or some neighbouring countries for a year?

MG: Apart from going to the Masai Mara I’ve never wanted to go to other game parks. Maybe one day I’ll go to the Okavango (in Botswana – scene of my next novel, TP), but to me there is no place like Kruger.

TP: What makes Kruger so special?

MG: Every day is different. No day is ever the same. The facilities here are great, and I feel safer in Kruger than what I would in Joburg, Cape Town or Durban. I’ve never worried about going to bed at night.

TP: You feel safe, that’s good... but what’s been the scariest thing that’s happened to you the last 171 days.

MG: I got chased by an elephant between Letaba and Phalaborwa. There were people parked looking at something and I drove up to them. The guy said ‘there’s an angry elephant’. I’ve never been scared of elephants and I saw this one grazing. I drove past and as I got next to him, about 25 metres away, he started running. He was breaking every tree and branch in front of him to get to me, so I reversed the Slug (the Slug is Martie’s bakkie/pickup) at about 100kph! The elephant kept coming. All I could do was just shout. At that point I shouted in Afrikaans: “Stop jou donder!” (stop you thunder – it’s like a swear word, but not that bad).

TP: What’s been your happiest moment in the past 171 days?

MG: There have been so many. I’ll have to think about that one. Every day is happy.

TP: Do you ever get sad or lonely?

MG: I don’t get lonely, but I do get sad. I speak to thousands of people every day through the blog, by email, and the people I meet in the park, but I do get sad and I miss Stephen, and I think that’s just natural.

TP: Just on that point, is this a good thing or bad thing for a relationship, or does it depend on the relationship?

MG: It depends on the relationship. But Stephen flies for a living so he’s away from home quite often. This (with me being away) gives him the opportunity to blow the house down with his stereo speakers and his music. He says he’s blowing the cobweb out of the Bose!.

TP: How hard is it camping by yourself?

MG: In the beginning it was very difficult, because I didn’t know how to do things. Stephen came with me (for the first 10 days) and showed me how to tow a caravan and set it up. He showed me how to tell if the caravan was level, but then when it came to showing me how to put up the caravan’s tent he didn’t know how to do it! We had to get someone to show us how to do it!

It was quite funny. Stephen bought the man who showed us a bottle of whisky. He told me after that to only ask the women in the campground for help, and not to buy a bottle of whisky for everyone who helped me.

I met some nice people at Letaba, John and Norma, and gave me a checklist to go through before I pack up and set up the caravan. I still SMS John sometimes for advice and I got a message today from Norma saying he worries every time I have to move.

Now, though, camping’s a piece of cake.

TP: Your blog is very successful. Did you ever think it would take off like this?

MG: No. When I left, I said to Stephen. if only one person reads it I’ll be happy. If one person got to be closer to Kruger because of the blog I’d be happy.

TP: What’s the oddest thing you’ve been asked by someone on the blog?

MG: People ask me to find animals and post pictures. Someone asked me to find a meerkat, but I told him I’d have to drive for days to find one (there are none in the Kruger Park). Someone else is waiting for a dung beetle, so I’m waiting for the rains to come so I can take a picture of one.

TP: Favourite animal?

MG: I don’t have one. I like them all.

TP: Favourite bird then?

MG: I’ll go with my husband on this one, because he thought it was so rare when he first saw one: the lilac breasted roller. When I started seriously into birding I realised this was one of the most common birds in Kruger!

TP: Favourite beer?

MG: Hansa.

TP: Are you the luckiest person in Kruger or the craziest?

MG: I think I’m both.

TP: Could you live here full time.

MG: No,

TP: Why not?

MG: I think I could do the blog for a year, but not full time. Without the blog I would have been bored, and lonely. The blog takes a lot of my time, but I couldn’t do it forever and live like this forever.

TP: What’s the best thing about living in caravan as opposed to living in a house or flat?

MG: Sheesh, no man, living in a house is much better than living in caravan!

TP: Let me ask that question another way… what do you miss most about living in a house?

MG: To have a full bathroom; and to have a nice couch and fully equipped kitchen. However, I do like cooking on an open fire.

TP: What’s the one gadget you’re really pleased you bought or brought with you?

MG: It was actually a gift - an ice maker. Beer has to be cold.

TP: What’s the most useless thing you bought?

MG: The storm straps for the caravan awning - they were so short. People told me I had to have storm straps (broad nylon straps that stop a caravan’s awning blowing away), so I bought six of them, but they were all too short – only three metres long!

TP: What advice would give someone going on a long camping or caravanning holiday by themselves?

MG: I’m not an expert and I’m still learning most of the way. Take every day as it comes. Enjoy what goes wrong, as well as what goes right.

TP: What’s the most touching or memorable comment or email you’ve had from a reader?

MG: A woman emailed me to say she used to come to Kruger with her husband, but he had passed away. She’s over eighty and because her husband liked Kruger so much, she scattered his ashes at Pafuri picnic site (in the far north of the park) under the big sycamore fig. Unfortunately the tree was uprooted in the 2000 floods and washed down the river into Mozambique, so she told me her husband is now floating in the Indian Ocean somewhere. Her sense of humour was fantastic.

TP: Would you do all this again?

MG: Yes, I’d do it again. I don’t know if my husband would allow it, but I’d definitely do it again. I enjoy it, and I love the different things I see each day. Also, once I’ve been in Kruger for nearly a year, how could I just come back for five or 10 days?

I would never have been able to do this without the support of my husband and my family and my friends

TP: You’re seeing Stephen in 12 days time (he’s flying out to meet Martie for some mid-trip R and R) What’s the first thing you’re going to say to him?

MG: Engel, (this is Afrikaans for ‘angel’, not fridge, which is what I thought), I miss you and I just want to touch you, you are real!

Coming soon.. an interview with Martie Goddard

2009-10-21T21:28:00.001+11:00

Martie Goddard is a South African woman who has been living in the Middle East for the last 11 years. She's currently spending a year touring the Kruger National Park from top to bottom, all by herself, in a second hand caravan.

Martie is something of a local legend and I'll be posting an interview with her here soon. Watch this space...

Thank you all.

2009-10-18T22:52:00.002+11:00

Yes, I know I'm very busy, but I've found some time to catch up on my shameless self-googling and can report that all of you Australians who bought IVORY propelled me to number three in the September ranking of the top 10 Australian authors , as resported by the Bestselling Books website .

Thanks. I owe each and every one of you a beer.

Big news next week

2009-10-17T22:37:00.003+11:00

Phew, Legion of Fans (LOF), this relaxing life of leisure I lead can get exhausting sometimes.

The small but perfectly formed Mrs Blog and I are slowly but surely getting our camping life sorted out here in the Kruger National Park. I have lots of news for you, but I also have one book to write and two to edit, so I plan on blogging in short bursts for the forseeable feature. I also have to resurrect my Getaway Blog, so be prepared to be diverted over there for the weighty, meaningful stuff.

Here, all you'll get is fluff, pictures (to come shortly once we get around to downloading them) and shameless self-promotion.

On the shameless self-promotion front, my latest book, IVORY is officially (make that supposedly) out now in South Africa.

I've been reliably informed by my publishers that October 4 was the official release date, but I haven't seen any in the shops yet. If you are one of our South African readers please feel free to stamp your feet and pound on the counters in your nearest Exclusive Books or CNA branch because if they haven't got my book in yet, then they jolly well should have.

In coming blogs I'll be talking about the newest edition to the Blog family, "Broomas", our bouncing baby (well, 12-year-old) Land Rover Defender; my appointment as Patron of a wildlife charity (seriously); the most evil vervet monkey on earth; the price and quality of camping gadgets in South Africa; and the perils and pitfalls of registering a vehicle in this country (but I won't be doing that until I actually have finished registering Broomas, just in case some vengeful bureaucrat is keeping tabs on me on the blog while my application for a Traffic Registration Number is being processed).

Too much news, too little time, too much writing and editing to do, too much beer to drink.

Later.

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong

2009-10-13T23:45:00.002+11:00

No, I'm not talking about the rest of the Silent Predator tour - that was fantastic. We had a wonderful time in Cape Town and even got upgraded to the luxurious Table Bay hotel (the Raddisson, where we were supposed to stay, is also a lovely hotel, but it was undergoing rennovations that weren't completed by the time we arrived).

I've had some great feedback and no death threats from the lovely people who went on the tour, and the indefatigable Mr W from the Africa Safari Co is already hinting that we could be safari-ing again in 2010, so start saving.

As to the title of this post, things went a little less like clockwork after the tour, when Mrs Blog and I flew to Zimbabwe.

For a start, our friends who look after our trusty (if aged) Land Rover, Tonka, were finally kicked off their farm. They'd survived a couple of rounds of potential evictions in the past, and had thought they were relatively secure under a deal they'd done with a local seed company. Much of what they were growing at the time of their rushed removal was seed maize - ie a crop that would have supplied seed for the so-called "new" farmers who had taken over formerly white-owned farms in Zimbabwe.

In reality, the vast majority of farms seized under Comrade President's land grab are overgrown and ruined. Little wonder, then, that the seed company stood by and let a johnny-come-lately would-be war veteran seize our friend's farm.

I say "would be" because it's rare to meet a genuine veteran of Zimbabwé's liberation war who actually received a farm and contined to work it. Many farms have gone to relatives and cronies of Cde President (not a few to his wife), and party hacks.

The power sharing deal between ZANU-PF and the MDC is not working. There seems to be more of a power vacuum in Zimbabwe, as evidenced by this latest land grab. Although our friends have a legal right to be on their farm, the local police refused to intervene, even after the invader in question threatened farm workers' lives if they tried to support their employers.

Ai yi yi yi yi. Or eish, as we say here in South Africa (where I'm writing this from).

Anyway, it is no small measure of our friends' big-heartedness that they managed to clutch start old Tonka and evacutate him from the farm shed as well. There was no time, however, for them to get Tonka's list of ailments (hangovers from our last trip) seen to, and we were unable to get him back to tip-top health in time for Mrs Blog and I to attend the Hwange Game Census (an annual event we take part in, in Zimbabwe's biggest national park).

So, Mrs B and I made the decision to leave Tonka in Land Rover hospital in the capital, Harare, and bus it to Bulawayo, in western Zimbabwe.

When I think of buses in Africa I usually think of livestock riding on the roof and grim faced people inside the coach crossing themselves. Not so the Citylink Shuttle from the Rainbow Hotel in Harare (the hotel formerly known as the Sheraton). No sirree Robert... this bus had a hostie, and complimentary chicken burger and coke included in the price. (oops, I don't mean the hostie was included...)

We even had a TV. For most of the trip the TV played Dolly Parton songs, although the last half hour of the journey to Bulawayo featured a DVD of Michael Jackson live in Budapest. I don't know what was funnier - the late Mr Wacko grabbing at his chrome codpiece (this had the party of be-suited African bureaucrats in the bus rolling in the aisles), or the catatonic fans.

In Bulawayo we were able to hitch a ride with an occaisonal commentator on this blog, The Black Mustarfa. He and his lady travelling companion were in a rented South African 4x4 and also headed to the game count in Hwange.

Just when we thought something might have been coming right on the Zimbabwean leg of our journey it started to rain.

The idea with the game census is that the count is held over the night of the last full moon of the dry season. In theory, there is little natural water left in the national park, just before the rains come, and animals will congreate around the remaining water holes and be easy to see (by the light of the moon) and count.

The 2008-09 rainy season, however, was a doozy and there was water everywhere. That meant that rather than congregating, animals would be spread out all over the place. To make matters worse (for us counters, not for the animals), it rained steadily from the time the count kicked off, at midday, and the precipitation increased to a full-blown thunderstorm by about nine that evening. Clouds covered the full moon.

As a result, Mrs Blog and I, along with our first-time counting friends from South Africa, counted absolutely zero animals.

On the bright side, we did see a nice herd of about 500 buffalo the day before the count, and some elephants, giraffe and a nice pair of mating lions on the day after. So, there are still some animals left in Zimbabwe.

We hitched a lift back to Bulawayo with some other counters, and passed deserted, overgrown farm after deserted overgrown farm.

But the land was greening-up and new shoots were appearing almost before our eyes. Even if we hadn't seen many of them, and even though there is poaching on a serious scale in Zimbabwe, I knew that the animals were out there, somewhere.

Everyone on the count offered to help Mrs Blog and me, and I promised them all that Tonka would return, as soon as he was fixed.

The national parks staff were glad to see us again, and had done a good job keeping Robins Camp (where we were based) as spic and span as they could on a next-to-zero budget.

My friend the farmer, back in Harare, was putting on a brave face after losing his home and his livelihood. We went out to Lake Chivero, near the capital, and watched him immerse himself in his favourite sport - sailing.

All is not right in Zimbabwe - far from it - and just about everything that could go wrong did go wrong, but as Mrs Blog and I boarded a plane for South Africa I realised I couldn't wait to get back next year.

This is Africa calling...

2009-09-20T19:14:00.002+10:00

I could tell you that it’s hard work escorting a tour around Africa, and that staying in the lap of luxury is not all it’s cracked up to be… but I’d be lying.

Greetings, at long last, Legion of Fans (LOF) from the stark but beautiful Karoo, in South Africa.

I’m on The Pride of Africa, Rovos Rail’s luxurious olden-days train, somewhere between Pretoria and Cape Town.

We are Day 10, or something like that, into the inaugural “Silent Predator Safari” in which yours truly and the indefatigable Mr H from the Africa Safari Co are leading eight hardy readers on a grueling 13-day tour of the best South Africa has to offer.

I know some of you wanted to join us, but were unable to do so because of financial and other issues. All I can say to you is: sell a child, a car or some superfluous organs because if we’re doing this again next year (and I certainly hope we are) then you would be mad not to join us.

We kicked off with five nights in the Kruger National Park – three nights in the national parks rest camps at Skukuza and Satara, followed by two nights in Tinga Private Game Lodge.

Attentive members of the legion will recognise all these places from my books, and the idea is that on the tour we visit places where my fictitious characters are shot, stabbed, lost, kidnapped, or (ahem) intimate etc.

We had some truly sensational game viewing in Kruger. By the second day the group had seen all of Africa’s Big 5 – lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo and rhino. In fact, on the second day we saw all five in one drive, and then four out of five on the afternoon leg… but who’s counting.

Tinga (which features in SILENT PREDATOR) had a lot to live up to in the animal stakes, but head guide Mr Q did not disappoint us.

On a guided walk along the banks of the Sabie River we saw something that neither he nor I had ever seen – a big crocodile killing another croc. Right before our eyes. Sabie means fear in English and the river lived up to its name as this was one scary sight.

From Kruger we jet-setted back to Johannesburg and thence on to Pretoria where we picked up our five-star choo choo. I love The Pride of Africa. The gentle rocking of the carriages… the lovingly restored coachwork… the all-inclusive bar… I could go on, but I fear the lunch gong is about to sound and I really must squeeze in a bloody Mary first.