cannibals, crocodiles, and calling cards

In an NPR piece on armchair travel this morning, Nancy Pearl included an inspirational journey by a Victorian single woman extraordinaire. (I have to point out that she was referred to as a 'spinster' in the radio broadcast, but that particular word doesn't make into the transcript.)

Mary Henrietta Kingsley was one of those wonderfully intrepid, unquenchable Victorian lady travelers who roamed the earth and wrote lively accounts of their expeditions. In 1892, Kingsley, freed from her responsibilities in England after the death of her parents, set off for the Congo where she fell in love with the place and its people, despite being threatened by both two and four-legged animals. She describes her experiences in Travels in West Africa, which is marked by lively writing, a wonderful curiosity about everything she sees and everyone she meets. Richard Bausch fictionalizes Kingsley's life in a wonderful novel called Hello to the Cannibals. The title from a phrase of Kingsley's, where she describes how she left one African village to go upstream to say hello to the cannibals. There's a heart-stopping scene in the novel where she beats off crocodiles, as well as one describing her climb to the top of Mt. Cameroon — one of the highest volcanoes in Africa — in full Victorian garb (in all that heat!) and leaves her calling card at the summit.