

I was propping up the bar in a Durban hostel on the first night of my trip to Southern Africa. My enquiries at the hostel regarding a weekend safari at the nearby national park had reached a dead end, and it was while nursing a drink that I met the Action Man, a colourful young Alaskan guide and quite the adventurer. He dazzled me with tales of the Alaskan wilderness and encounters with grizzly bears. He would get dropped in by helicopter, he said, then wander alone camping without seeing a single soul for ten days or more before the pilot flew back to a prearranged spot to pick him up. "Why don't you come with me to Lesotho?" Action…
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