12. sometimes I feel like Sybil Fawlty

John Cleese’s Fawlty Towers is a classic. 
I used to watch poor Sybil deal with the most uncomfortable situations and giggle my way through her dilemmas.

But sometimes I feel just like her, and bumble my way through situations just waiting for a hidden camera to jump out, saying “Gotcha”!

One particular occasion – not funny at the time and almost reduced me to uncontrollable hysteria – was when we were hosting a French travel writer. It was in the middle of peak fire season and the inevitable happened. In the late afternoon a fire warning came through on the radio and all the staff were mobilised. Ken vanished into a cloud of smoke to save his farm from burning, leaving me to host the guests.

Darkness fell and I was discussing the merits of which boutique wine would suit our dinner. The guests enquired if Ken would be joining us. “Ummmm, no not just yet, he’s busy attending to some farm business” (like putting out half the farm that’s busy burning!)

Not wanting to alarm the guests with the pending disaster, I veered the conversation back to Chardonnay vs Chenin Blanc. With that the guests’ eyes widened, the size of saucers. Darkness is deceiving and almost upon us was a bright ring of red flames. Quietly excusing myself, leaving the guests to the full run of the wine cellar, I dashed up to the house to make sure it wasn’t on fire. All was under control and a sooty, exhausted Ken finally joined us for dinner.

On another occasion we were trying to impress some travel agents. Tippy, a tame serval, followed us around and was a real favourite. We were wandering around the open area in front of the restaurant, visiting the raptor release aviary where three spotted eagle owls were waiting to be released. The horses had discovered that ostrich pellets were being put down daily and were reluctant to leave the area. They spotted Tippy and decided to have a game of chase. Tippy froze and stared at them. Not being street-wise he didn’t know what to do.

My calm demeanour disappeared and I ran like a banshee to pick him up out of harm’s way. This spurred the horses on even more, freaked out the cat, and I was left scratched and humiliated. One of the agents darted around, arms waving, trying to shoo off the horses. At least it broke the ice.

Running a game sanctuary-lodge-farm-home is hard work. 
We could not do it on our own and have wonderful staff to thank. 
Caring and committed animal lovers who go to extremes to save a life, and prevent cruelty, support us daily. 
We have learnt so much in the two years we have been in South Africa and enjoyed the wonderful hospitality. 


We have come to understand the Zulus, and their lessons about the bush and rural life has enriched our perspective and enabled us to share it with others.

Christmas is a time for thanks-giving, sharing and loving. 
However clichéd it might sound, we, at Milimani express our sincere thanks for everything we have. 

And I personally, would like to say asante sana, ngibonga, 

a huge thank you to Ken for making my dreams come true. 

Sybil Fawlty would have a long way to go to beat this!

Published in Country Life, December 2002

Footnote: Thank you for reading my stories. It has been cathartic republishing them, and I confess it has taken me 8 years to confront the loss of Milimani and the death of Ken. Life after 2002 went a bit pear-shaped and the traumatic experience of dealing with the land claim left some scars. Since Ken’s death in 2005 I have been lucky enough to find love again (thank you Rob Stock) and to be embraced by the bush in Pongola. I am also blessed with the incredible love and friendship of the Kuhle family, who have accepted Rob and I into their extended family.

Other blogs by Lois Kuhle:

SMOKE RINGS IN CUBA. A TWO WEEK JOURNEY FILLED WITH SALSA, SUNSHINE AND SILLY PEOPLE:
http://smokeringsincuba.blogspot.com/2013/10/smoke-rings-in-cuba-journey-filled-with.html

COOL THOUGHTS. MUSINGS AND OTHER MAD MOMENTS:
http://loiskuhlethoughts.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-impatient-gardener.html

11. swimming with ostrich

We’ve all heard of ‘swimming with dolphins’, a very spiritual experience; 
Dances with Wolves, a stirring love story; 
and Free Willy....let’s no go there. 
recently, we have been swimming with ostriches.

Along with the purchase of Milimani we inherited many creatures – tigers, crocodiles, horses and a very tame ostrich named Bahl.

Bahl was an amazing character, a lonely male who had changed persona and seriously thought he was human. Going for a walk was like a scene out of Forest Gump. Ken and I were not allowed to walk side by side as Bahl positioned himself strategically between us. He delighted in interfering in the workshop, and he had a fascination for anything that happened at ground level. He slept outside our home, shared his space with warthogs, dogs and humans, and was truly a part of the family.


We are not sure how old Bahl was but suspect the number 13 spanner he swallowed had something to do with his untimely death. He went peacefully in his sleep about a year ago, and his presence is sorely missed.

For ages we tried to source another ostrich, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. The local pet shop doesn’t stock them, and you are forced to buy up to 10 at game auctions. So we were delighted to discover a breeder in Newcastle and immediately ordered three of the flightless birds from him.

When I phoned I was excited to hear he had five-month old birds and had visions of shooting up to Newcastle, popping them into the back of the Landi. This dream was abruptly shattered when he told me they were six feet tall.

We arranged to have them delivered, and when they arrived we offloaded them in front of the restaurant, where we hoped they would settle. Two immediately tucked into the food, but the third disappeared into the bush. Poor Enoch, who was manning the bar, had to thrash his way into the forest to retrieve him, while the others continued to dine. By the time he arrived back, one and two discovered their companion was missing and ventured off to find him. Eventually all three were united, and after this circus, we sat down to well-deserved cold beers.

That night the three newcomers, now named Faith, Hope and Chastity – not Charity, followed the staff to their quarters and sat around the fire, and there they spent the night. They bonded with Doctor, the gardener, and follow him and his rake everywhere, picking up tit-bits.

The next day we had people for lunch. The ostrich had come back to the original source of food and seemed content to hang around while we all oohed and aahed. The next thing they went to the pool and settled on the slasto, dipping their necks in the water. I had a premonition of them going for a swim, and sure enough two of them calmly walked into the water. They swim like ducks! We plucked them out of the pool, and they sat there like drowned rats, confused about all the fuss. They continued to dive into the pool on a regular basis, forcing us to fence the area off.

We thought we’d had to deal with something unusual, but that same week we received a panic call from our neighbour calling for help to get a giraffe out of the pool. Other lodges have had similar strange swimmers, such as rhino and elephant to fish out.

Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water

Published in Country Life, November 2002

Other blogs by Lois Kuhle:

SMOKE RINGS IN CUBA. A TWO WEEK JOURNEY FILLED WITH SALSA, SUNSHINE AND SILLY PEOPLE:
http://smokeringsincuba.blogspot.com/2013/10/smoke-rings-in-cuba-journey-filled-with.html

COOL THOUGHTS. MUSINGS AND OTHER MAD MOMENTS:
http://loiskuhlethoughts.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-impatient-gardener.html