Two Welsh Girls on the Loose: Back to Af

Last month, whilst rummaging through refrigerated foodstuffs for a morsel of mid-morning sustenance, I chanced upon a bit of bara birth that had, to my surprise, been wrapped with a scrap of paper, upon which, believe it or not, was scrawled Hermione’s recounting — hitherto unknown to me (I’m always the last!) — of our rescue last year of my dad, Captain J. Peacock Perks, from near certain muckerdom — albeit deserved — at the hands of a tribe of pygmies on the continent of Africa.

Well, what can I say, other than to state the obvious with regard to all things Hermione: Truths will be stretched.

Anyhoo, this got me to thinking about how very much I love returning home to Wales and to our village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndro- bwllllantysiliogogogoch — and about how, to that end, another adventure for Herm and me, a.k.a. Sweet Betsy, just might be the ticket.

That afternoon, I caught up with Herm at the Gwyneth & Paltrow, our local, where she had been working part time as a Jill-of-all-trades.

“Back to Af? You can count me in, S.B.!” was Herm’s shouted down reply to my inquiry, from up inside the chimney chute — accompanied by a cloud of soot.

The following Tuesday evening found us in Italy, roaming the Casino’ di Venezia, dressed to the nines, searching for one Femi Akinde — whom we had arranged to meet there after responding to his advert in the March-April issue of Fly Fishing on the Congo. It wasn’t hard to pick him out from among all the other dinner jackets, since, by previous arrangement, he was wearing a fluorescent orange pith helmet.

Later, to a soulful rendition by our gondolier of Bella Notte (from ‘Lady and the Tramp’), we floated down the Grand Canal listening to Femi’s pitch: “So, you two gals, you are seeking some adventure, then? I think you have chosen well! Africa is just the place for that kind of thing ... and I am just the right man to make it all happen for you! There is the Serengeti, of course ... wildebeest and zebra … you would love it. Or, maybe you prefer something more Tarzan-ish ... swinging on vines through a deep, dark jungle. I can arrange that for you, too … including Tarzan, if that is your wish. Then, there is another thing, but I am not so sure it would be up your alley, as you say.”

Not up our alley?! There hadn’t been an alley yet built or conceived of that Hermione Jones and Sweet Betsy Perks were not prepared to go up — at least once!

Five days later, ’The Two Welsh girls on the Loose’ stood in a queue, entry and late fees in hand, ready to sign up for the “Mt. Kilimanjaro 10-K Downhill Tandem Elephant Fun Run.”

Nearby, ‘Femi the Resourceful,’ as we now called him, stood holding on to, as best he could manage, a rope — attached to our newly acquired mount, one Mumbo Jumbo.

Since, famously, Hermione has hands the size of an Orangutan’s, she took the front position, and the reins. My job, in the back, would basically be to hang on for dear life.

At noon, the vuvuzela sounded, and the starter cried out: “Get going you big stupid things!” And seventeen way oversized mammals, each with two willing-idiots atop, were, to put it mildly, off.

They called it a ‘run,’ but a ‘run-stumble-tumble’ would be a more accurate description. Richter meters as far away as Australia may, in fact, have been set aquiver.

Although ‘Team Wales’ placed fifteenth, we were dead chuffed to have edged out, by half a snout, a couple of English toffs in matching lime green safari suits.

Speaking of lime, two days later — with a whole new level of appreciation for the immutability of the laws of gravity — we sat with Femi Akinde, sipping gin gimlets in an ocean-side open-air tiki bar in Zanzibar.

“So, what do you think you two gals will be wanting to get up to next?” asked Fermi.

“Do you see those two beach chairs over there,” I asked him in response, “the ones with the red dragon beach towels hanging on them?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do see them two chairs with the hanging red dragon beach towels.”

“More to the point, Fermi,” said Hermione, “we’ll be working on our sun tans.”