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As Anne's regaling us with her favorite Harare tourist and driving tips we find ourselves behind an omnibus, and as the bus approaches the intersection in front of us it comes to a stop at the light, which is red, forcing us to do the same. "Oh no," Anne says, "this isn't good." Too close to the bus' back bumper, with another car approaching us from behind, we can't easily navigate around it. So instead, we start scanning the nearby bushes, nervously waiting for the inevitable attack on our car. "This is not good at all, ya."

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This is the part of the story where I'd like to say that I spent the night dreaming of lions. That King Milo came to see me, and beside the river outside our tent, amidst the roars of the other lions in his kingdom, we sat and talked about a great many things. Secrets that the wind has shared with him that he's now sharing with me.

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The wind and, especially, the lack of lions roaring have put me on edge. We only have two days left at Antelope Park, and the inevitable pull of having to soon leave this place has left me feeling unsettled. I don't do well with goodbyes, and I'm especially unhappy to be nearing the end of this leg of our African journey.

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The MK's have given chase to something, but it's hard to tell what it is from our vantage point. 100 meters up the road we pull up alongside the lead vehicle and see Kali, Mara, Meeka, and Moyo, towering over a sub-adult zebra. The zebra is on its back, braying at the top of its lungs, kicking its hooves, and rolling from side-to-side – still very much alive. One of the lionesses has tucked her face into the zebra's rear end, where it was presumably taken down, and is, literally, eating it alive.

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It's an extra special morning as Kim has in hand her honeymoon gift. Finally. All the secret meetings resulting in quizzical stares and hard questions from the wife have finally paid off and Kim is clutching a custom lion walking stick made by Jabulani. About a meter in length, the top is carved with JB's initials, a stick figure representing him, and "2011." Down one side of the stick's length is carved the names of the four cubs, separated by lion paws, and on the other JB has spelled out, "Kim + Graig - famba ne shumba." Kim + Graig? That's right: "Graig."

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Dear Virginia, Please forgive my poor attempt at writing to you in Shona. I'm sure I've horribly mangled your wonderful language in doing so, and can only hope it's not too embarrassing to read.

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We finally reach the top of the hill and, a little breathless, look out over the valley. It is a spectacular view. Absolutely spectacular. You can see why it was the seat of power. Philip smiles and says, "Nice view, yes? The king was thought of as the mountain, and when the king would die people would say, 'The mountain has fallen! The mountain has fallen!'"

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Yawns stifle Penya and Paza's usual eeowws, but they're happy to be taken out and oblige us with some ridiculously cute moments, even if some of them involve rolling around in elephant poo. The morning light: sublime. The cubs: amazing, as always. The company: perfect. It's becoming harder and harder to find new ways to describe these walks, but it never feels old or worn to us. Regardless whether we're walking up the path with them (one eye behind me, watching for Penya's ankle taps), standing under a tree as we encourage them to climb, or lazily dozing on some boulders – it is beautiful. Chakanaka. Famba ne shumba, chakanaka.

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"Question! I'm just wondering if the Great Zimbabwe Ruins trip is going to be on a weekend, because I would be up for going if the trip was on the weekend," Michael once again asks. "Why the weekend?" Nathan responds, slightly frustrated. "Because don't we get weekends off?" comes Michael's reply. After the laughter in the room dies down and Nathan can unscrew the look of complete bewilderment from his face, he responds. "Michael, we don't get weekends off here. Do you think the lions look after themselves?"

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Chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp. Sorry, what was that? Chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp. Oh, right. Hang on. Chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp. Okay, okay! Zvakwana!

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