Our brief time in the pool is perhaps the first time on the trip so far when I’ve felt comfortable with the heat. The water is delightfully cool compared to even the air on this overcast day, although I do think that the cloud cover is breaking up somewhat.

Brian doesn’t say much more while we relax in the water, clearly feeling that he has already opened up as much as he is ready to. Considering my reluctance to confide about my recent past to him in return, I’m neither surprised or disappointed.

By the time we dry off and head back towards our room, the clouds really are breaking apart, revealing patches of pale blue among the fluffy whiteness. The temperature climbs steadily beyond thirty degrees by the time we make it to our waiting vehicle.

Mary and Andrea are already waiting, sensibly in the shaded area on the veranda in front of the main reception office.

“It’s too bloody hot for standing in the sun,” Andrea tells us as we approach. “Do you suppose it is going to be hot like this all the time?”

“Probably,” Brian tells her. “We are on the equator, after all. I have a pretty good idea what it will be like if the sun is out for the whole day.”

“What are we hoping to see today,” Mary asks me.

“I’m looking forward to seeing elephants,” I tell her. “Or anything, really. I don’t think we get to be picky about sightings. Obviously, a leopard would be great, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“Does anybody know how far it is to the park gate?” Brian asks the now slightly larger crowd of waiting tourists.

“Almost twenty kilometres,” Peter answers as he walks out of the reception office. “The road has been fairly recently surfaced and it’ll only take us about twenty-five minutes or so. If everybody is ready, we can get mounted up and on our way.”

“Has everyone got water,” Ian adds from behind him. “I have extra bottles here. Keep hydrated!”

Luckily, the drive down to Amboseli is as smooth and speedy as Peter suggests. The windows of our truck are open, even if the roof is still down and this floods the vehicle with whatever cooling the movement of warm air can provide.

Ian is explaining the permit system to us while Peter is in the office. “Fees are paid on a daily basis,” he tells us. “The trick is, that you pay for 24 hours. By going in now for a few hours, we can have a game drive until it gets dark. Then, in the morning, we can re-enter on the same permit and stay in the park until three again. As we’re having to leave at about that time anyway, it all makes perfect sense.”

“Having seen how much the park fees are, I’m glad we can,” Nicki Tells him from the front row. “Do we get to do the same in some of the other parks?”

“Yes. It should work out pretty well in Tarangire and also at Lake Manyara. Okay, here we go. Brian, Mark, do you think you can pop the top open?”

We’d seen Joshua do it the day before and it only takes us a couple of seconds to release the rubber hold-downs and push up on the roof section. It slides open smoothly on its dampeners and we are back on safari.

It really is pretty hot by now and the fairly abundant wildlife in the park is subdued by the heat. It doesn’t stop it being an enjoyable drive, but after a couple of hours, I’m beginning to think that we are going to be totally out of luck. It’s starting to feel like all we are going to see today are birds and sleeping antelopes.

Then, down in a swampy area we spot some elephants and my view of the whole day changes completely.

They are clearly getting the double benefit of eating rich green grass while keeping their feet cool in the swampy waters. There appear to be more than a dozen of them, probably a large family group, judging by the youngsters staying close to their mothers.

With their ears flapping gently, they move slowly and serenely across the land, surprisingly sure-footed and confident considering their vast bulk. They seem to carefully step around the foraging egrets at their feet, almost as if concerned for their well-being as much as their own.

All six of us are clearly more than a little excited by the encounter. Sue and Nicki are almost trembling with emotion as one of the elephants comes within about ten metres of the vehicle, apparently totally unconcerned by the presence of either the vehicle or the occupants.

 

“I’m afraid that we can’t stay much longer,” Ian whispers after about twenty minutes of us simply standing and watching the group slowly graze past. “We need to get to the park gate before it gets dark. If we’re late, we’ll get fined.”

“Look, Mark!” Brian whispers as we begin to move away. I’m so fixated on the view of the elephants that I haven’t looked around me for several minutes.

The clouds have parted, just near the summit, revealing that it has recently been snowing on the vast tops of Kilimanjaro. I drop back into my seat, stunned by the incredible, awe-inspiring and totally unexpected vastness of the mountain that towers so majestically above the plains. For a few moments, I’m totally mesmerized, but then I pull my camera back to my eye and take a few shots.

Joshua obliges by stopping once we have cleared the elephants, allowing us to take a few better photos in the fading sunset light.

 

“It’s impossible,” I murmur. “It can’t actually be that big, can it?” Coming from a small island with a highest point of only about 600m, I just can’t wrap my head around seeing almost 5000m of mountain towering above us.

“Well, clearly, the answer is yes,” Brian replies, “but I’m not quite sure that I believe my eyes either. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a shame the elephants are on the other side of the road.”

“Are you never satisfied, unless you have the perfect photo opportunity?” Brian asks in disbelief. His disarming smile takes the sting out of the complaint, though.

“Well, I’m just saying. An elephant in front of the mountain would be perfect.”

“Well, I’m suggesting that you’re a bit crazy.”

“Oh, I know that already. Why don’t you go and ask one of the elephants to pose for me?”

“Mostly because if I was going to choose the manner of my own demise, I don’t think being crushed by a bloody seriously annoyed 5-ton elephant is on the list for consideration.”

 

After an excellent dinner, albeit in a packed dining room of what now appears to be a very busy lodge, Peter sends us off to bed with a reminder that we need to be packed to leave in the morning. Once we set off for the park, we will be heading out through the western gate.

Good food was the final nail in the coffin of exhaustion for me. It’s been such a long day since we left Nairobi in the morning and it is now catching up.

When I finally flop down onto my bed, nets adjusted and my light already out, I can’t supress an audible sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” Brian asks from the bathroom doorway.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a very long day and hitting the mattress feels so good.”

“Fair enough. You just sounded a little like someone who was finally free of some sort of stress or other.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a part of it. I can feel inside myself that I’ve finally laid a few ghosts from my past to rest.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I suddenly find that I do. Brian makes himself comfortable in his bed and turns out the last of the lights and, sitting in the quiet of an African night, I tell him all about Simon and the fraud. Each time I tell a part of the story, it becomes a little easier and this is no exception. Brian listens in silence until it is apparent that I’ve finished.

“So,” he asks as I fall quiet, “at least you weren’t the only victim?”

“No, Simon was apparently an equal opportunities fraudster and con-man. Gay or straight, male or female, black or white; we were all fair game for him.”

“I don’t suppose it feels like that at the time, though?”

“No, Brian, it doesn’t. You feel like you are the only idiot that he has conned. Like you did something wrong to make it happen to you.”

“So, he didn’t target you specifically?”

“I guess we will never know. I’d like to think that he started off simply liking me and then realized I was another source of income, but honestly, I have no idea anymore.”

“Life’s hard,” Brian mutters sleepily.

“Yeah, whether it’s bullets or bastards, the result can change the course of your life just the same.”

“True. Before I was wounded, I had a girlfriend at home. We’d been together for a couple of years. Everything seemed great between us.”

“Why can I sense a ‘but’ coming along, Brian?”

“Because there is one, I guess. When she heard that I was being evacuated back to England, she was obviously distraught and rushed to see me in the hospital. I was already getting over the worst of the actual wound, but the physiotherapy was just getting started.”

“I knew pretty quickly that I wasn’t ever going to get the range of motion that I once had back and had already basically been told that I would be invalided out of the service. If you can’t hold a rifle to your shoulder to shoot, then you’re not much use as a marksman. When I told Michelle, she basically freaked out.”

“Sorry, about what exactly?”

“I really don’t know. I think she was more in love with the soldier than with me. Not that that makes any sense, but you get what I mean?”

“Sorry, Brian, but that’s all sorts of fucked up!”

“It sure is. I listened to what she had to say, but not much of it made any sense. I couldn’t find any cogent argument against what she was saying. If she ‘didn’t want to be with a civilian!’ then what could I do about it as I am now. I can’t say that we parted on good terms. I was angry enough with the world for ending my career as it was. She was just driving another nail into the coffin.”

“Right when you needed support the most, she took it away from you. That’s a feeling I know,” I whisper. “Simon was my partner. When he was caught – mostly because of me – I was left devastated by my new situation, but he was the only person I wanted to be there for me and he, very obviously, couldn’t.”

“Exactly, Mark. Anyway, to allow us to get some sleep, I’ll keep the rest short.” I can sense Brian taking a few moments to adjust his position in the bed, clearly lying down for sleep.

“I was totally out of it for about six months. That’s why I don’t drink now. I don’t want to be like that. It took a couple of my old squad-mates to finally kick some sense into me. They got me to stop drinking and get a job. They are still looking out for me. That’s why they suggested that I needed a proper break and made me come on this trip.”

“They sound like the sort of friends everybody needs,” I tell him softly.

“Yes, they are. The army really was like a family to me. I miss it, but now I understand that I have to move on and make a different life.”

The two of us slowly grow quiet. I lie in silence thinking about what Brian has said and my own situation. One thing is certain and universal: life really is hard.

 

Breakfast before six has us gathering at the vehicles before seven. Everything is packed quickly and we are ready to go. We are not alone. There must be thirty vehicles getting ready with us.

There’s a queue of vehicles ahead of us at the park gate, but we only need to show our still-valid permits to get access pretty quickly. The sun is already starting to feel warm and the vast bulk of Kilimanjaro is completely clear, if a little hazy.

Joshua has a different route planned for us this morning. The plains as we approach the swamps are quiet, apart from a few gazelles and a handful of zebras.

Once in the centre of the park, we head south towards the mountain. There are clumps of palms and a little denser vegetation down here.

Right round the corner and all my safari dreams seem to come true. Joshua places the vehicle perfectly as a group of elephants come into sight, wandering out of the palms and trees into the open with the bulk of the snow-capped mountain behind. I’ll live with the haze. This is the photo opportunity of a lifetime and I’m almost squeaking with excitement as I stand and rest the camera on the roof of the vehicle.

Brian puts a hand on my shoulder and gives a little squeeze. “Relax,” he whispers. “Just relax and enjoy the moment. Don’t spend the whole time looking through the lens.”

I nod in agreement and, after a few more calculated shots I lower the camera and enjoy the experience. Brian is still by my side and I’m conscious of just how close he is. It’s a good job that he’s straight, or I might get the wrong idea.

Ian decides to drag us all up to the top of Noomotio Hill for lunch. I have to admit that the view out across the lakes is pretty impressive, but it really is too hot to be climbing even a modest slope.

“Okay, folks,” Ian tells us as two o’clock approaches. “Time to head out of the park. Next stop is the town of Namanga. Everybody needs to know where their passports are and be ready to pay visa fees. That’s fifty dollars each in cash.”

“Not for me, suckers” I gloat with a grin. “Isle of Man passport holders get a free visa in Tanzania.”

“How the hell did you swing that?” Andrea asks.

“I’ve no idea, but Crown Dependencies are exempt. I’m taking full advantage of it.”