My grandmother always emphasised the value of matching underwear on the grounds that you “Never Know” what emergency might arise which would reveal any deficiencies. I have since this day, a better appreciation of why men spend a fortune on designer underwear, and have learnt that perhaps I should dig a little deeper when it comes to purchasing my husband’s undergarments.
We were very fortunate to have been selected by the Kenya Tourist Board to host a group of brilliant agents from London; what an honor this was, and it was “all hands on deck” to ensure that everything was seamless.
Having checked the group in, Anthony and I found ourselves as usual at the end of the day around the bar with Patrick knocking out ‘Dawas’ quicker than we and our guests could drink them. It had been a stunning sunset as the rain clouds were beginning to gather, and conversation turned towards the fate of Nairobi National Park – does it really have enough wildlife to sustain it?
Meanwhile just below us in the backround, a group of about 15 Buffalo had come to eat the grass around the pool and chomp down on my last remaining pot plant – leaving the pool surrounded by pots with nothing in them but a display of half-munched stalks. It was not long before all hell broke loose and an unfortunate baby buffalo found himself swimming for his life. Clearly not aquadynamically built his frantic splashes were accompanied by panicked sounds as his mother had no option but to look on, and by positioning herself at the deep end the wretched baby was trying frantically to reach her, which took him away from the steps at the shallow end.
Back to the underwear! It was at this point that both Anthony and I dashed down to the pool, tearing off items of clothing as we went. There was a moment when we both realised that running through a herd of buffalo may not be the best option so my job was to then ‘shoo’ (Karen Blixen Style) – them off while Anthony would make a dash through them and get into the pool. It was an excellent idea and within seconds, and much to my horror, Anthony had stripped down to his pink polka dot Marks and Spencers boxer shorts, and had flung himself into the water. My embarrassment and horror at his choice of underwear was huge, conscious as I was of the fact that our group of VIP agents were looking on with much interest. Mummy buffalo was not letting this pink polka dotted predator anywhere near her baby and in her efforts to keep her mouth on baby’s head she very nearly fell in herself. Thankfully Anthony had the strength to move the buffalo and try to get him out away from his mother.
The story ended with the baby buffalo being thrown out of the pool and onto the grass to his mothers delight – she gave one last agressive snort to Anthony and then rushed into the darkness with baby in tow. All in a days work! Anthony and I slopped back to the bar where we were given a round of applause and more drinks – what an evening and a night to remember for our London guests. I imagine the buffalo will think twice now about venturing too close to the pool!
