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By day seven our food had dwindled to a few over-ripe bananas, while our tents were apparently designed for hobbits. None of the zips worked properly and it was inevitable that one morning my girlfriend should wake to find an army of ants bivouacked in her boots. Later, when the local baboon mafia made off with her mascara, I realised that Africa was probably not for her – at least not as an impoverished backpacker. |
