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“Our” hippos seem to be doing rather well. Every time we go down to Hippo Bend, at the far end of our property where the huge white sandbank provides the perfect viewing spot, we seem to see more and more of them in their deep water pool below the rapids.

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After visiting them a few times, you can predict their routine, for there seems to be a set pattern to their behaviour. The hippos spend the heat of each day lethargic, docile and almost entirely submerged in the river, protected from the sun’s cruel burning rays by the water and by special sun-blocking secretions from their skin.

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Then, as soon as the sun dips below the tree-line in the late afternoon, the pod – almost as one - immediately starts to rumble, grumble and stir. (Come the dull light, out come the hippos: yet more frustration for the photographer who relishes the golden light at the day’s end but is thwarted in the pursuit of a great action shot by the hippos’ inactivity while the sun still shines!)

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You are alerted to their imminent activity by the distinctive honking of one or another in the pod, and then inevitably the odd scuffles ensue, as the giants awake from their slumber…suddenly one will lash out at the other, rudely ending the day’s reverie and there will be a great splashing of water and lunging at the speed of lightning (who would have expected it from such a great lumbering beast?).

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And of course there’s a great deal of the obligatory wide-mouthed yawning, just to show who’s boss (there seem to be a few contenders, even amongst the babies who mimic their elders).

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Finally, as the darkness draws the human spectators reluctantly away, they know that in their wake, the hippos will leave the sanctuary of their river and head inland, in search of grass to fill their great stomachs and sustain them for the next day, which will be spent so busily suspended in the cooling water of their deep river pool…

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