It’s a great inconvenience to be addicted to safaris while living on the east coast of the United States. Safariing opportunities are few and far between. Sure, you can visit a world-class zoo or do a spot of vagrant bird-watching, but it just doesn’t compare.

A safari combines the thrill of seeing exotic and potentially dangerous animals with the skill and luck of a puzzle. In the thick brush of Addo National Park there are animals all around, but spotting them is a challenge. Like a Where’s Waldo book. You are constantly on the edge of your seat scanning from the horizon to the roadside. And the reward is far more interesting than a skinny fellow in red and white stripes. An elephant! A lion! Even a warthog!

Now post-safari, my eyes feel under-worked and unchallenged. There is simply no chance, even if I strain and scan, that I will glimpse a meerkat, or a kudu or even an ostrich. He’s just not there.

So next time I’ll have to take home a yellow mongoose. He can burrow in the sofa or hide in the laundry basket. Then, maybe, after the third or fourth time he’s pooped in my handbag, I’ll be cured of my safari addiction.