PHIL CLISBY 2
Three lionesses are heading straight towards us. There’s a tense excitement among the occupants of our vehicle. My son, Tom, looks petrified as they approach – not because of the lions per se, but at the thought that they may snatch his food. He’s starving, but won’t eat the ham sandwich chef has kindly provided him in case the lions decide they want a piece of it.
He clutches it to his lap, keeping it hidden. I assure him they have bigger fish (or, rather, animals) to fry. Thankfully, at the last moment they alter course, sauntering past the back of the truck, not paying us any attention.