I tried. I really did.

I know that the proper thing to do after our two-week vacation in Africa is to write a travelogue blog. So that’s what I started to do.

I was going to tell you about all the rare and exotic animals we saw on our safaris. I was going to wax poetic about Victoria Falls, “The Smoke That Thunders,” one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. And, of course, I was going to say a few words about the diversity and foodie scene in Cape Town. That is what any blogger should do, right?

But you all know me, and you know I can’t write that stuff without getting schmaltzy and falling into one cliché after another. So I stopped writing that post and began this one, about the unexpected moments that helped make the trip memorable.

Take the porter at the Johannesburg airport. Barb had asked him how we could check that our luggage had been transferred from our incoming flight from Amsterdam to our flight to Victoria Falls the following day. He held our boarding passes up to a scanner, nodded, and said we were fine.

I reached into my wallet and pulled out several South African rand notes. He looked at me with disgust.

“That money is no good here. I want twenty U.S. dollars,” he said.

I told him he was lucky to be getting ten. He swore and waved us into the wrong passport control line.

Then there was the evening our group ate dinner at a boma, a traditional African enclosure now commonly used as an outdoor dining area, and NOT an acronym for “British Officers Mess Area,” as one guide glibly told us.

We were enjoying our grilled dinner when a scream came from the far end of the table. A member of our party had received a gift from above. Whether it came from a large bird or a baboon, no one knew for sure, but it was unquestionably a direct hit, right on the top of her head.

That was a tough one for our otherwise implacable tour leader to deal with.

Nancy faced an even more delicate situation when a distraught fellow traveler reported that her outdoor shower had been interrupted by an unexpected visitor—not a baboon or an elephant, but a maintenance worker who had wandered into the wrong suite.

I suspect the poor woman would have been less distressed if it had been a baboon.

Monkeys tell no tales.

To be fair, the local staff performed some heroics as well. Our safari driver found a lost wedding ring in his vehicle before its owner even knew it was missing. Another porter successfully fished a fallen gold-and-diamond necklace from beneath a slatted wooden boardwalk. That saved its owner, a 22-year-old woman, from considerable grief, most of it likely coming from her worried mother.

So yes, the animals were magnificent and the falls thundered, but it was the little things that made our trip unique.

And next time, I’ll be sure to wear a hat to an outdoor buffet.

You never know what might fall from the sky!