Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
If I had expected them to whoop or cheer, I was mistaken. 'How are you feeling?' I
asked, as I saw Matt sip from the tube of his camel-bak water bladder.
'I'm fine,' he said, sweat pouring from his forehead. 'Just a bit warm today.'
'It's fucking hot . . . The hottest day we've had. Are you sure you're okay?'
'Yeah.' Matt nodded. 'I'm fine.'
'Well, let me know if you're struggling,' I said. 'We'll take it easy.' I looked at Jason.
He, too, was struggling with the heat - and, even though neither of them was carrying a
bag, I knew they couldn't bear more than about two kilometres per hour. As we set off, I
resolved to take it steadily and keep an eye on them. Boston, who looked the most sprightly
of the group, began trampling down the long grass to make life easier for the rest of us.
Between us and the tree line, there was about a mile of sun-stricken land. In single file,
we set out: Moses at the front, then Boston and me, with Matt and Jason bringing up the
rear with Charles. Not for the first time, with all of us cringing from the overhead sun, our
trek had the air of a military patrol as we all kept a watchful eye on one another. The Ajai
park was wavering in the intense heat.
Moments later, I heard a call from behind me. I turned, to see Jason.
'Matt feels faint,' he said. 'Can we break, for just a few minutes?'
I nodded. The tree-line was only a hundred and fifty metres away, but those hundred and
fifty metres felt like miles.
I found Matt hunkered down in the elephant grass. He was sipping from the water pack
attached to his rucksack, through a thin tube. There was something almost ghostly about
his face: pale white and flushed red in equal measure. 'Are you okay, Matt?'
He nodded. 'I'll be fine. I just need a moment.'
Boston was at my side. For a time he stared at Matt. Only then did he pull me aside.
'We shouldn't linger here, Lev. Not with . . .' He rolled his eyes to the sun hanging directly
overhead. 'Better rest when we get to the trees. The longer we spend out here . . .'
Boston didn't need to finish the sentence, and nor did I need to convince Matt. He was
already using Jason to get back to his feet. 'Are you sure?' I asked. 'Have you got enough
water?'
Matt nodded. 'Plenty,' he said. 'The trees aren't far. Come on, let's go . . .'
'Well, keep drinking. We can rest just there . . .'
Together we lurched across the plain, finally entering the relative cool beneath the
branches. But we had barely shed the sun when I heard Jason's cry, turned, and saw Matt
face down in the dirt. By the time I reached him, he was trying to pick himself up, only to
crumble again. He looked at me, his eyes open wide, with something approaching bewil-
derment on his face. Then, as we gathered round, stripping him of his trousers, his shirt,
fanning him endlessly, anything that might cool him down, his expression changed again:
