This is what Komodo Dragons on Rinca usually look like: somnambulant. Almost drugged. Camp-dwelling bums who have forsaken their natural, beautiful heritage of hunting amidst wild nature.

Well, they say they don’t feed them. Except for the occasional park ranger who has sat down at his desk without checking under it first.

Since Komodo Dragons, for some perverse reason, rather like to come inside. 

But sometimes they emerge suddenly from the bushes and come at you at very disarming speeds. Then, it’s time to break out the patented Komodo Island Forked Poky Stick.

Success not guaranteed. Helpfully, Komodo Dragons bear an uncanny resemblance to downed palm fronds and logs when they are sitting in the forest and being very quiet.

“They have very good camouflage,” said our guide, who was bitten last spring. I detected a rueful note in his voice.

This was quite an existential-terror sort of day. In all the best ways.