On the last day before our departure, I went after breakfast to the Augeigas reservoir, the largest in the park. There were no day visitors that day. It was very quiet and peaceful by the water, and I could extend my Daan Viljoen bird list. Green-winged Pytilia, Red-fronted Barbet, Yellow-rumped Seedeater, Pririt Batis and Cape Bunting joined the old acquaintances who had accompanied us for almost two weeks: Egyptian Geese, Masked Weaver, Bulbul, White-browed Sparrow-Weaver, Short-toed Rock-Thrush, Striped Swallow and Tit Warbler. I would miss the variety of birds in the park. In the evening we went to the restaurant. The maitre d’ had seen me this morning at the baboon mother-Tupperware-container battle. And we were probably also a topic of conversation among the many employees in the park. It is, from the location, an extraordinary restaurant. It’s high up in the Khomas Highlands, and all of Windhoek is at your feet. We got a lovely place with a view of Windhoek at night. The waiter brought us the menu, and then it started: “I’d like a Tafel Lager,” I said. “I’m sorry, we’re out of Tafel Lager.” “Do you have Windhoek Draught?” Windhoek Draught is, as the name suggests, a draught beer. “Yes, but only in 500 ml cans.” Well, it was a very small keg, but I took it. Anita wanted a specific red wine. They didn’t have that either. Nor the other one. We agreed that he would see what was there and bring a dry red wine. And a bottle of water. The red wine had, as it had to be, room temperature, i.e. it was about 30 degrees warm. But Anita drank it anyway. Let’s get on with dinner. It is easier not to look at the menu because half of the things are not there anyway, but to ask what there is that day, and then to order. The food was plentiful and tasted good, but not in such a way that this restaurant would ever get a star. Still, we liked it there. Apart from us, there was only one other table with guests: Chinese, who probably lived in the bungalows and managed to slurp steak and chips. That’s what it sounded like. We had just ordered and sipped our drinks when the door opened. In came Dosendeckel-Doris’ girlfriend. We assumed she would sit down at one of the many free tables overlooking Windhoek, but no, she sat down in the middle of the room overlooking a white wall. Of course, Anita and I started whispering: “What a strange couple! They don’t even go out to dinner together!” “Maybe it’s so cramped in the tent at night that when they’re awake, they get as far away from each other as possible.” As soon as we said it, the door opened, and Dosendeckel-Doris entered. Her friend had already had an Appletiser as an aperitif. Doris briefly looked at the menu and ordered something. We noticed two things: she can speak, and she and her friend speak German. But they stopped talking. Doris wanted to go out to the veranda and look at the view of Windhoek while she waited for dinner. There was only one problem: the veranda door was right next to our table. She preferred to walk through the front door again, then around the building and onto the veranda. The waiter looked at us slightly confused, after all, he had waved friendly and showed her the way. Doris’ friend remained seated, looked at the white wall, and was silent. We went soon after dinner, too. If Doris was in the restaurant with her friend, she couldn’t be in the sanitary facilities: we could shower undisturbed. On the day of departure, we undertook a farewell game drive. And then we became the crazy tourists. I didn’t want to put up the massive tent in Windhoek again for cleaning, so everything was first cleaned on the site and then packed. Of course, this took a few hours longer than usual. It got very, very hot. Luckily we had our fridge and kept it connected to the power supply until the very end. So we always had cold Coke and water. Then I, who had been walking around barefoot for the last two weeks, stepped into a wasp that promptly stung my toe. It was painful, but I was even more annoyed about the horror that always comes after a wasp sting: allergy, swollen limbs, doctor’s visit, pharmacy bill, applications. Days of fun. Anita put onion juice on it and then it didn’t hurt anymore. The amazing thing was: none of the usual symptoms occurred. Maybe I’m just allergic to European insects? At some point, everything was packed and stowed away in the car and trailer. With a sad heart, we said goodbye to Daan Viljoen Game Park. It had been such a quiet, relaxing, exciting, crazy time. We had grown fond of animals and humans. We would miss it.