Liverpool ?" then went on to ask me, "Which team do you support - Everton or Liverpool ?" When I answered that I was a supporter of The Reds his face lit up, and he told me that he had visited Anfield several times to see Liverpool in action. He went on to recite the many Premiership grounds he had also visited,  then pointed at his colleague at the next counter, explaining, with a sneer, "She's a Man United supporter." At this, quite a bit of banter developed between the three of us, and as we did so, a long queue had formed behind us as our new-found friend revelled in this opportunity to talk football, and I'm sure the growing number of people in the queue were pleased to see me leave!  It's seemingly always the case in Africa - football is a common language.

  Indeed, our very own Gecko, when I asked him what team he supported, replied, "Manchester United." Disappointed, I promised him that before the end of our trip, as an evangelist for Liverpool Football Club, I would convert him. In fact, it was a few evenings earlier that he underwent the conversion ceremony, and he finally uttered the magic words that Liverpool were without doubt the best - though the promise of a free Liverpool club shirt may have had something to do with it!!  I wonder where the shirt is now!!
With our truck replenished for its final day we pressed on to Waterberg, arriving at Waterberg Plateau Park in time for lunch at 2. The camp, as with all our previous camp was immaculate, and set at the foot of the plateau. A walk up to the ridge of the plateau was scheduled for the afternoon, though we had two of our group on the "sick list" this afternoon. Nancy was well below par, with a bad headache and feeling generally weak. I urged her to stay behind at the camp and rest, though she was very disappointed to be missing out on this last activity. Lori was suffering from a sore heel, so trekking up to the top of the ridge was clearly not a good idea. The remainder of the group were transported to the starting

point for the walk. We set off up the rocky path, threading our way upwards. It was some time later that we emerged onto the top ridge. Chuck, who was to undergo major knee surgery on his return to The States did particularly well in navigating his way through the boulder fields and rocky paths - this was not the ideal place to come with dodgy knees - a legacy perhaps of his time as a pro-baseball player - spending much of his time as "catcher" - which I think would be distinctly more hazardous than this afternoon walk!! We settled down for a while on attaining the ridge, around an hour later,  taking in the view across the vast savannah below. The rock scenery on the plateau was impressive. Wildlife was fairly scarce, though we did see several rock hyrax - a relative of the elephant,

but resembling a well-fed guinea pig in  truth. The area used to hold a good population of cape vultures - but the 1950's population of 500 has dwindled to around 8, so it was little surprise that we didn't see any, though we did see a pair of black-chested snake eagles gliding along the ridge. Our foray up onto the plateau gave us a little taste of its geography. The plateau extends to 800 square kilometres, and access into its interior is restricted -  leopard, rhino, buffalo, baboon and hyena are all present here. Having taken a break at the top we returned to our starting point, and as we arrived Gecko turned up with the truck and ferried us back to camp where  Nancy had had a good rest and felt much better for doing so. It was towards 7 pm by the time we returned, and for dinner this night it was

sirloin steak with garlic bread and feta salad. The steaks were absolutely huge by any standards - it's certainly not normal for me to be searching for the smallest! This was followed by a huge chocolate gateaux. Gecko told me it was his birthday - and he had me fooled for a minute. After our meal one might have expected something a bit more lively for this our last evening in camp, but I feel that the 5 am start and the journey, followed by the trek up the plateau had taken its toll, and I think I could best describe the end of the evening as a damp squib, and one by one, we all drifted off for an early night, faced with the sad reality that our holiday was all but over. And as I write this now - three weeks on, I can still sense that feeling of deflation that one gets when reaching the end of such a trip.
So all that remains is our journey home ......... but, with tomorrow's visit to Joe's Beer House ..... not quite!!