Logbooks:
Southern Africa Overland 2015
A Quick Inland Trip to Drakensburg
| Date: | Jan. 6, 2016, 7:03 p.m. |
We had enjoyed a few nice quiet days in Durban, including a chilled out New Years Eve spent with other cruisers before we decided to do a quick trip to Drakensburg, the 'Dragons Fort' Mountains. Less than 4 hours drive directly inland, we hired a car with a couple of other cruisers from the Dutch boat Nightfly, to do an overnight trip up there. It had been blisteringly hot that week, the type of heat that melts your brain. By 2 o’clock in the afternoon cohesive thought is impossible and you have completely lost the ability to give a stuff. So between sheltering from the menacing heat we tinkered on boat jobs. We were hoping that this trip inland and a fair way above sea level might provide some relief from the humid 40-something temperatures of Durban.
We took off early-ish to beat the Durban traffic congestion but with many still on holidays this may not have been entirely necessary. We got to Pietermaritzburg in good time, just as the Voortrekker museum opened. We had been told by another cruiser that this was well worth a stop and with an entrance fee equivalent to about $0.70 (AU), how could you miss it. This extensive and well curated place deals with all the main ethnic groups and their history in the region. In particular the Zulu, Voortrekker (Dutch farmers), English and Indian. The chaotic battles of the Boer-Anglo-Zulu war are also addressed and the struggle to rid South Africa of Apartheid is touched on, further around the extensive grounds you will find the Church of the Vow, a dutch reform church with an interesting history which was explained to us by a knowledgable young lady. There where other buildings and displays but we skimmed them conscious of the time, along with secure, well priced parking. Did I mention admission was $0.70?
We found a coffee shop around from town hall called the Bavaria Cafe, great food and prices but grass-growingly slow service. If you had more time, there are a couple of other history and Art museums which are reportedly very good but we were keen to get out of the heat an up to the mountains. The scenery through the Midlands or 1000 hills region is lovely and we could feel the pressure build as we began a steady climb.
We had decided to visit the central burg region of the Drakensburg, with some of the largest and most spectacular peaks. In particular we were headed to a spot called Champagne Castle. We stopped at the tourist info centre along the way and the helpful, efficient staff organised our accommodation while we had a cool drink, no relief from the heat yet. Then with the afternoon waning we headed to Champaign castle for an easy walk to see a waterfall. The waterfall betrayed the drought conditions in the otherwise lush green surroundings. It was a great relief to find some pools to paddle in, as it was still unbearably hot.
The next morning after a nice breakfast at our B&B accommodation we set off for a more challenging walk in the shadow of Champagne Castle again. The Durban heat had followed us, unusually hot and abnormally humid for the highlands, we suffered just as much up there but it was very pretty. We ended up just doing a short but steep walk up to the aptly named Sphinx Head. We finally felt we’d made a dent in what must be a huge climb up the towering Drakensburg Mountains and though it was actually a very modest climb in that heat it was enough for us.
On the drive back, thanks to the helpful directions of the B&B, we found a Craft Beer & Austrian food joint for a hearty lunch. Driving along the scenic R103 instead of the main M3 we also came across the striking sculpture that sits where Nelson Mandela was captured and subsequently imprisoned for 27 years. A huge museum is under construction but we still enjoyed an interesting but jumbled display in a tin shed nearby. We then wandered down the ‘long road to freedom’ to view the famous sculpture, which lines up only at the end to reveal his portrait. This piece was a media darling I seen gracing the cover of many Art & Architecture magazines so it was great to finally enjoy it as it was meant to be.
It took coming back to Durban to finally escape the heat, just as we were reaching the fringes of the city, the impressive clouds of a Southerly front moved over and the temperature has finally become bearable. We are now focussing on preparations to leave, as a fabulous looking weather window has been forecast.
South Africa - Klawer to Cape Town
| Date: | Dec. 30, 2015, 2:32 p.m. |
Another uneventful boarder crossing and we were in South Africa. The scenery was lovely as we left behind table top mountains and wove through rocky, shrubby, hills slashed with red earth. The colours were beautiful but apparently we should see it lit up in the wildflower season. The road wound down through passes and into a valley ringed by a sinuous aqueduct which caged in lush crops of grape vines and Rooibus. Our lovely accommodation perched over this and even the showers had huge windows from which to enjoy the view. That evening many of us participated in a wine tasting of the Klawer regions offerings, it was exactly what we needed after the long hot drive.
The final drive to Cape Town was also spectacular, with roads winding through passes and up steep mountains. At one point we popped out of a pass and were suddenly overlooking an expanse of freshly shawn wheat fields which stretched out to the sea. With 75km to go the impressive bulk of table mountain began to loom on the horizon. As we got closer we could see the sprawling mass of buildings on the flats surrounding it. Scruffy slums were cheek by jowl with luxury shopping districts. Nearby, huge social housing projects were being constructed but it was hard to imagine the colourful & flamboyant African soul thriving in the banal ubiquity of these government estates.
Kids that we passed on the roadside had ceased to enthusiastically wave at us as they had throughout the rest of Africa, we were in the big smoke now. Our drop off point on Kloof street was wonderfully central but did make it an awkward scramble to retrieve bags and make hurried farewells in the street during busy holiday period. Kloof Street features a string of smart little cafes and restaurants, further down at Long street things got more bohemian and a little touristy but we enjoyed a quick look around the craft markets all the same.
In the evening some of the group found an Ethiopian restaurant with magnificent food. Eating with our hands, from large shared platters seemed a very appropriate was to conclude our time together. There seemed to be a bit of a night life happening but we were too exhausted. Maybe next time when we bring the boat here, but for now we sprawled out in a kingsize bed to enjoy our last night sleeping on land for a while. Our flight was in the middle of the day so we took off early to check out the V&A marina area quickly. In spite of hosting the ARC fleet, they have a few spare berth due to cancellations. We have heard that some unscrupulous cruisers have been triple booking and then cancelling once the arrive and decide where the wish to say. It is appalling behaviour which you can only hope will not have long term consequences for future international boats.
We are back in Durban now, we did miss our boat and it was good to find her safe and well. A quiet drink with other international cruisers who have begun moving down from Richards Bay is our new years eve plan this year.
Namibia - Fish River Canyon & Orange River
| Date: | Dec. 27, 2015, 8:59 a.m. |
We enjoyed a lazy start before heading to our campsite near the Fish River Canyon, only downside was that the hot sun spoilt our sleep in. It was another stinker but we only had a short drive. Then disaster struck, everywhere we stopped they were out of ice, ugh, furthermore the swimming pool at our new campsite looked like a sewer after a massive storm had recently passed through. It was still being cleaned out and unusable. Most of us chose to sook in the whatever shade we could find, while a brave (or something) few elected to walk the 12.5km to the viewing point, meeting the rest of us there. They took plenty of water and set off early so as to enjoy rest stops in the shade along the way. A good plan, except that 2.5 hours later as we drove along the road towards them we realised that there was not a single source of shade in this spectacularly barren stretch. The had not even made it to the lookout point but were not far off, the poor things looked like lobsters and were drenched in sweat.
Lucky for them I had finally found a source of ice back at camp so we were at least able to offer them some half chilled drinks. We wandered around the Canyon edge prior to sunset an enjoyed our own cool drinks at the lookout point. The view over part the worlds second largest canyon was really something. On the way back the walkers stopped the truck to show us a drought stricken Zebra who had recently passed away near the road. It was a rare and usually shy mountain zebra and as sad as it was to see it dead, it was amazing to see its beautiful markings up close. They are much more striking than the more common Burchell’s Zebra of the plains.
Everything was dusty, I had taken to keeping electronics in the dry sack at all time and we were constantly covered in a film of it. Orange river promised the end of that. The drive was very scenic with rock formations displaying some beautiful variegated colours. Only succulent trees were to be had among the rocks and grassy shrubs. The quite suddenly we began to come across a shock of lush green, we were approaching the river and were coming across grape farms. Our campsite sounded more like a football team, Felix Unite, but it was a beautifully developed sprawl of buildings surrounding a magnificent pool deck overlooking the river that formed the boarder with South Africa.
Namibia - Sossusvlei
| Date: | Dec. 25, 2015, 10:13 a.m. |
It was the morning of the 24th of December when we departed Swakopmund. Jackson turned up in a santa hat with the truck fully decked out in tinsel and Christmas decorations. Everyone seemed to be in a great mood and excited to head into the desert. The seaside town had been pleasantly cool but it was not long before that feeling seemed like a distant memory. We drove through endless sand dunes, past monstrous seaside houses, to the back of Walvis Bay before heading inland through two spectacular mountain passes. White sand turned to red and the large dunes grew enormous on our seaward side while a mountain range fringed the other, dotted with dazzles of mountain Zebra & herds of Oryx.
By the time we reached our camp site it was all we could do to drag ourselves into the pool, nobody opted for the hiking in this heat. We got up before the sun and bundled ourselves sleepily into the truck. There were a few christmas hats in the group and feeling like a bit of grinch I found a pair of twigs to stick in a hairband and painted a reindeer nose on with eyeliner. At 430am with christmas light flashing and Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ blasting we were driving through the sand dunes to Sossusvlei, the end of the river, in the middle of the Namibian desert with the pre-dawn glow, it was a rather surreal scene.
There was no water in the river, there rarely is, we were if fact driving along the river bed with mountainous sand dunes either side to find a particular one called Dune 45. It is one of a couple that you are allowed to climb. By the time we got there, the Christmas carols had done their job and we began excitedly making our way to the dune to watch the sunrise. We were the first ones there, brilliant. Well not actually as turns out, it is much easier to walk on a compared trail. The first few people up have to scramble and slide through the steep, soft sand, often on all fours, as they half sink into the dune. Mark led the pack initially before taking turns as the front runner. Even a few spots back it was damn hard work, the dune we had climbed to sand board was not as steep, tall or untracked. I stopped at the first ridge with many of the group for a break I contemplated staying with them but managed to find a second wind for the summit which was 135m high.
By now we felt spent and had sand absolutely everywhere. The view was however, worth every challenging step. We could see down the length of the riverbed and along the huge walls of dunes either side. As the sun rose they burned with colour as we perched on the soft sandy apex of Dune 45. By now several other tourists had followed us so the trail was nicely compacted and relatively easy to walk. In spite of this, Mark and many others chose to tumble themselves down the super steep slope of soft fine sand. It looked like fun but I did not want to risk the camera. So instead I ran down the slightly less steep trail with the camera safely in a water proof, and hopefully sand proof drysack. On the up side I was first back for the amazing breakfast spread Simon had prepared.
After that we continued on to Sossusvlei proper. It is beautiful driving through red sand dunes in the early morning and we were surprised at how much wildlife we saw along the way. We boarder 4x4’s leaving the truck in a carpark, to drive slidingly through soft sand near the end of the riverbed. We were heading out to a salt pan that was the end of the river several hundred years ago, with a spectacular fossilised treescape that has featured in several movies and countless photographs. Again we climbed a sand dune for the first view. This time it was a fraction of the height and a nice shallow gradient along a well compacted trail, so it seemed easy going. We were however, walking in the shadow of ‘Big Daddy’ a an 270m high peak which we had been told we did not have time to climb before the day got too hot. Mark and a few of the group just could not resist. So while I scrambled and slid down to photograph the pan and it’s spectacular trees, they headed up to conquer Big Daddy.
They were exhausted and happy when they finally returned. Mark had managed to jog back within the allotted time but the others did not seem to have that reserve and were very late. We did a quick drive by Sossusvlei proper, which is apparently quite pretty when it holds water but it was all dry now. The sun was making it’s presence felt now, and we did our best to brush of and shake out sand before all falling exhausted into our seats on the truck. What a great Christmas day.
Namibia - Swakopmund
| Date: | Dec. 23, 2015, 7:04 a.m. |
Back on the road, the scenery morphed from rocky undulations to became composed almost exclusively of sand. We hit the most amazing wall of cloud with a cold front which seemed to be hanging low over Cape Cross. On the way to Swakopmund we detoured past here to see and smell the immense fur seal colony. Like the impala, our timing was such that their were little black pups everywhere. Cute and inquisitive as they were, it was the stench of the place that will leave a lasting impression. The huge colony stretched out into the Atlantic mist as far as the eye could see. One of the girls got so caught up in capturing the sight that she failed to see an adult seal who had gotten into the fenced walkway, coming straight for her. We tried to shout a warning but over the noise of the ocean and the seals she could not hear us. At the last moment she finally noticed and took off like a rocket, sometimes I wish I was one of those people who is callouss enough to film these things instead of trying to assist. We could not help it and all doubled up laughing. That was a huge mistake, we forgot to breath exclusively through our mouth and so laughter turned to dry retching.
We aired the bus out as we left the seals behind but another stink persisted, ongoing tensions between elements of the group. Three days of free time in Swakopmund could not come quick enough, particularly for the poor crew. I cannot believe that we had to orchestrate the division of adults into separate accommodation to avoid squabbling, unbelievable. Swakopmund however was a great little seaside holiday town. Bustling in the lead up to christmas, the German style architecture sat strangely comfortably in a town with no natural trees and sand dunes invading the streets. It was very civilised with neat, funky shops and a local art scene. There was only one night club but several quiet joints (and a few raucous German ones) to enjoy a drink, safe enough by African standards to have a night on the town and walk home (on the main, well lit, streets.)
Swakopmud also offers a full compliment of activities, specialising in particular in getting sand into every single crevice of your body. We decided to try sand boarding. It was awesome. Mark of course took to it immediately and was jumping on his second run. Although he did land on his head and slid halfway down the dune with his legs in the air on his second last one. It was rather funny when he emerged from the soft sand unhurt. Having never even snowboarded before, I did not progress to the jumping but I loved it all the same. It is damn hard work to get back up the dunes and I kept promising myself that this time was the last time, each time, before going again. We even tried the super fast lie down option but I was not even able to come close to the 76km/hour that one of the guys managed. (They actually had a speed gun.) Admittedly we were so sore the next day that we opted out of another planned activity and decided to catch the latest star wars movie at the quaint little cinema instead. Anyone who knows me well, knows how much I love popcorn. Here, the attendant puts in a scoop, lets you shake on your choice of flavouring before adding another scoop and so on. What a professional.
One night we enjoyed the chance to braai (bbq) for ourselves and found Eland (tastiest) Kudu (Softest) and Oryx game meat at the supermarket. Mark however liked the beef steak the best. Soaking up the atmosphere of coastal Namibia in this pleasant spot was a great way to break up the trip so far and are looking forward to hopefully passing by this way again on the boat.
Namibia - Spitzkoppe
| Date: | Dec. 20, 2015, 6:58 a.m. |
The approach to Spitzkoppe was beautiful, white sand transformed in great waves to rocky formations which began to heave out of the flat landscape as we drove through. Smoothed by wind and rain the great Spitzkoppe made an impressive orange statement against the clear blue sky. We go there just in time to take a little tour to see the rock art. The similarity between San and Australian Aboriginal culture had struck us back at Jo’/hoansi but here it seemed only differentiated by the animals depicted.
We climbed up to the waterhole atop of a huge boulder for a cooling swim and then up the most western arrangement with a nice bottle of wine to watch the sunset stain the rocks an deep red. It’s a cool place which gets you itching to go rock climbing through the amazing formations. You can immediately see why it is popular in such circles. We did not bother with the tent, rolling out our sleeping bag on the top of one of the huge rocks instead. For the first time we pulled out warm clothing that evening and though it seemed impossible just a few hours ago, we were glad to have brought beanies and the like. With a light cloud cover we did not get much stargazing but it did help make sunset and sunrise beautiful. Waking up to the dawn and being able to enjoying it without turning out of bed was perfect.
Namibia - Etosha
| Date: | Dec. 19, 2015, 6:54 a.m. |
All trip we kept being told, just wait until Etosha, this place was starting to take on a mystic air. It was a long drive to get there but now armed with our spray bottle we were comfortable enough. As soon as we neared the park big game appeared. We immediately booked in a night game drive in spite of threatening rain clouds. Our guide Victor was crushed, if it rains we won’t see half the animals, he wailed. Thankfully it held off, and we spent the afternoon driving about in our big white truck spotting game. Here we saw ghost face springbok and plenty of giraffe, flamingos, zebra and much more.
Many people long to see a kill when safari-ing, even staunch animal lovers are keen as it is both natural and necessary. The one we saw that afternoon felt like neither of those things. Three adult zebra and a small foal were lining up to drink right in front of us, while we were all lining up for the great photo opportunity. Suddenly the mother barked a warning and the foal seemed to slip into the water with one of the males heading in after it. It was with disbelief that we soon realised he was actually attacking not helping the foal. He viciously grabbed it's rear leg upending and standing over trying to drown it. We were transfixed with horror as what must of been seconds felt like hours. Everything went still and the male zebra let go, but the little foal had fight and had manage some gulps of air. We barracked passionately as the foal bolted, the male followed and the mother tried desperately to intervene. The sustained attack was brutal and we were starting to wonder if a quick drowning might have been more humane. All the guides were in disbelief and if we did not have the whole thing fully documented on film none back at camp would have believed us, they had no explanation to offer.
Shocked and subdued we were within sight of our camp at the historic Namutoni Fort when a rare Black (hooked lip) Rino came crashing slowly through the bush and passed right in front of us. He was actually white with the mud as were most of the animals, such a treat to have been so close and a much needed mood booster.
The night game drive was great fun, the first 30 minutes we were spoilt with a bevy of wildlife and while it slowed right down after that, it was still worthwhile. We were treated to several more black rinos, a flock of flamingos and hyenas who were trying to catch them. Owls, scorpions, Dik Dik and the incredible, rare appearance of an Aardvaark (which we unfortunately just missed seeing.) We had seen many dead giraffe, often intact, taken down by foot and mouth disease or just the effects of the extreme drought and we witnessed the power of a hyena who was dragging the entire skeleton of a full sized giraffe slowly down to the waterhole to soak the bones for a future meal. Nothing goes to waste out here. We were dropped happy and sleepily back late at night.
On day 2 of Estosh we drove from Namutoni to Okaukuejo campsite along the edge of the huge salt pan and we finally saw some Cats. A pair of lions mated just meters from us at one of the first waterholes we visited. We saw lions several more times that day, surprisingly closely. We also saw a pair of cheetahs, at a great distance which I am very proud to say I spotted. At that distance, I don’t think anyone believed me but they politely stopped the truck anyway. You can imagine my relief at being right! We saw many other animals that day and the beauty of our tall truck was we could spot things that cars were going straight by. We were also at eye level with the many giraffes. Though nobody got too excited over Zebra anymore, it was a great game drive that morning. The afternoons game drive produced nothing but a jackal and a dust storm, beautiful and inconvenient, until the very end when we came across giraffes nibbling blossoms in a most picturesque place and time of day.
back at camp the local water hole produced little game due to some rain. The impressive nests of the social weaver bird made for a nice consolation however. To Victors great astonishment we left Etosha the next day without seeing a single elephant. I was focussing on trying to find a leopard instead, but to no avail. The only other large game we did not see was Eland but all up it was an amazing place with some privileged wildlife viewing.
Namibia - Divindu and the San Bushmen
| Date: | Dec. 17, 2015, 6:47 a.m. |
Upon entering Namibia I had noticed the thatched roof mud huts had promptly become square. The tin can bricks were also done away with in favour of more traditional stone. The thatch was often tiered creating beautiful effects and was occasionally scalloped or triangulated. Compounds now supported a range of housing types obviously with different purposes, it would have been great to have learnt more about the living patterns.
On the way to our next destination we stopped for a lunch break in the shopping mecca of Rundu. Apparently the Angolans cross the boarder for better pricing and access to goods here. The largely hungover group mostly ate at a MacDonalds-y looking place called the Hungary Lion, which was reportedly pretty average. One of the most bubbly, and clearly adventurous, members of our group managed to find some grubs fried up in spices and onion. We however managed to find some really nice pies at the bakery in the supermarket instead, they were not even $1.50 each. By far the best investment in that shopping trip was a spray bottle. Mark had come up with the idea of employing evaporative cooling on the truck and while his grand automated irrigation scheme was not to be had, I did find an insecticide mister in the gardening section of a shop. It cost $3.70, perfect. We quickly became the most popular people on the truck behind Simon the cook.
Our picturesque accommodation was rustic Roy’s Camp. The manager was a bit of a tool but the place was stunning, with fun details and a lot of ingenuity and creativity it the way it was put together. In the evening I saw shy Duikier at the waterhole but most of the gang hung out in the chlorinated waterhole and by the trickle of internet access.
I had some doubts about the next days activity. Nothing makes you feel more like tourist than heading out to a place where locals strip down to tradition gear and re-enact their tradition lifestyle for you before returning to normal houses in jeans and a t shirt. We were off to visit the San Bushman, the oldest inhabitants of Africa, and endeared to our 80’s generation by “The God’s Must Be Crazy” movies. I know that these sorts of things can help to preserve language and culture but it turned out my reservations were completely unfounded. The Ju’/hoansi-San did the whole thing very well, with a tonne of humour and warmth I was not prepared for.
The most revered trackers in Africa, a San Bushman can apparently tell you which blurry footprint in the soft sand is his mothers. We also attempted the four different clicks of their language as we learnt about their unique hunting and gathering methods. When a group chatted excitedly over the top of each other the sound was incredible, with a variety of clicks mingling seamlessly with ’normal’ speech. We took many photos, which were patiently endured but it was a selfie stick that really brought everyone to life, hair was suddenly being fixed and clothing adjusted in a babble of clicking and laughing. An absolute highlight of the trip, we all spent up big in the craft shop to show our support. I am now the proud owner of an ostrich-shell necklace and a Bushman bow and Arrow set. I am all ready to bring down a giraffe.
Botswana - Okavango Delta
| Date: | Dec. 15, 2015, 6:35 a.m. |
It was a long drive to our lodge near Maun, capital of the Okavango Delta but along the way we were treated to more game, in the form of more elephants and giraffe, but also ostriches, zebras and blue wilderbeast. We packed down into small bags ready to head into the delta for two nights. We drove through the neat round thatched mud huts on a 4x4 truck and I was able to get a better view of their construction. It seems that everyone here uses soft drink and beer cans as the bricks and the mud is actually an effective mix of elephant and buffalo dung.
The poling station would have been more appropriately referred to as the poling terminal. This place was a hive of activity. Great numbers of flat bottomed ‘dug-out’ canoes know as mokoro lined the banks and chaos reigned as tourists were loaded in and out of them. Thankfully with the delta being so vast once we go going it was very peaceful and remote. The mokoro are now constructed of fibreglass as the timber versions made of slow growing trees traditionally used, only last a couple of years. in this well organised country each had their registration number painted on and only people from traditional community groups are able to become polers to protect their tourist income.
Our poler was Matt Key, a tall, lean, broad shouldered young man who dressed and looked like a sports star. He was modelling a pair of lipstick red sunglasses which I am certain came from the women’s range but with his immaculately groomed hair and smiling charisma he totally rocked the look. He poled like an olymipic athlete. We set off last, by a lot, every time and we arrived at rest points and the campsite first, by a lot, every time. He loved zipping past the other boats as we smugly waved to our companions. Look out for the speedboat one of the lady polers cried as we zipped passed, and we re-dubbed him Matt ‘Honda’ Key. I could not believe how well he got that thing to move. It was supposed to take two hours to reach the campsite and I am sure for everyone else, it did.
Winding through the shallow forks of the delta it was incredible how well the polers could navigate. the grasses towered over us, rustling pleasantly as we slid by, smelling the lotus flowers that brushed us along the way. Brightly striped kingfishers put on a show and huge flocks of egrets and herons posed. The gentle gliding movement of the mokoro had sent several of our hungover companions to sleep. We saw an elephant at a distance as well as the occasional sprawling african tree. The latter was of some concern, for I swear I could have counted on one hand the number of shady trees I had seen rise out of the thick grass and the sun was really getting to work. It was a hot african summer day.
It was of great relief when we pulled up to a shady cluster of trees to set up camp. We slowly pitched tents and some went for a swim while we waited out the heat of the afternoon. Not long before sunset we set off for a short game walk and were rewarded with a dazzle of Zebra, (yep, thats the collective noun.) It was really nice being able to walk in small groups and it is a totally different animal viewing experience we would highly recommend. Vincent, poler and guide was very knowledgeable, having grown up here and recently trained in at the Chobe lodge we had just come from. Irene, another poler also came to ‘learn’ but she seemed to possess even more knowledge than him, indeed she had a sharp eye.
The next morning we set off with the sunrise for a longer walk of 2 hours, again we were with Vincent. It was cool but clear and another hot day was promised. This time we saw zebra, giraffe, antelopes, wilder beast and birds, birds, birds. We were having a great walk with a fun group and were all really happy when our guide offered to extend it. We jokingly added “As long as we are back by 11 for the amazing brunch Simon had promised." Vincent was rather excited about some very fresh tracks. Unfortunately he got a bit too excited, completely lost track of time and soon enough it was getting late in the morning. In our naivety we followed unquestioningly. By now it was blazingly hot and perhaps a little embarrassment he promised we were close to camp, so many of us finished off the last of our water. Two hours later, we trudged back into camp. It was midday and we had been walking for 6 hours in the extreme heat. Growing up in tropical Australia I knew all too well that I had a bad case of heat stroke coming on, how the poor Canadian and New Zealanders survived I don’t know but we were all in a bad way, even Vincent. He also had to suffer a dressing down by our tour guide who had been beside himself. The search parties were all recalled and we spend the rest of the afternoon doing little more than making a serious dent in our water supply.
Mark had fun giving the poling a go and Matt clearly had confidence because he elected to sit in the mokoro egging him on. He only overbalance once as he was making his final landing in ankle deep water but all was well because Matt’s immaculate hair was kept dry. Later, with me and the camera onboard for a sunset mokoro cruise, Matt’s confidence in Mark waned and he elected to pole us in spite of Mark’s offers. gliding along the waterways almost silently is positively magical at twilight.
After a raucous night of dancing and singing around the campfire, done spine tinglingly well by the polers and rather embarrassingly by us, we set off early back to the Mokoro Terminal. It was a chaotic hive of activity again and it was nice to be back on our truck, after a shower, and heading to the Namibian boarder. The heat on the drive was incredible and it was with great relief that we discovered a pool and the best showers yet, at our destination, Rainbow Lodge on the banks of the river. We had breezed through the boarder crossing just before closing time and were now just inside Namibia. The mosquitos annoyed us for the first time but not half as much as an obnoxious group of alfa-afrikaans. Though they did teach us how to drink a shot like a giraffe. There was a big session at the bar and some very sore heads the next day.
Julie & Roger: How fantastic is the Delta?! We visited in 2012, loved it! The Hippos need respect though! Jan. 16, 2016, 8:10 a.m.
Add a commentBotswana - Chobe
| Date: | Dec. 11, 2015, 6:28 a.m. |
Once upon a time Zimbabwe was the success story of Africa, Mugabe was a national hero and Mark has fond childhood memories of this period. Now the expense of living there is staggering, they have recently abandoned their currency for the US dollar which provides some stability but it is still hard to image how the locals get on. Even insulated in touristy Vic Falls the desperation pervades with locals quietly offering crafts for second hand clothes and the like. Now we were crossing a four way border into Africa’s real success story, it was immediately apparent.
Botswana was neat and clean with government infrastructure that would be the envy of similar sized regional Australian towns. Finding diamonds after they had managed to obtain independence helped, but the real success was managing to keep out corruption. The greater population might still live in mud huts but they do so with access to free education and almost free health care. Their biggest problem is keeping their well educated intellectuals within their own borders. We stopped to pick up a few necessities and were relieved to find pricing was much closer to South Africa than to Zimbabwe.
We had not even made it to the reserve when we started to see big game. Our campsite was at the back of a magnificent safari lodge on the edge of the water and the reserve. We had to get a lesson in Hippo safety, seriously, that was a problem here! A family of Warthogs trotted about the campsite and we had a beautiful bar overlooking the water. (No doubt done so as to keep us out of the posh poolside one.) Because we had arrived early we were able to hop on an addition game drive. All the ‘new crew’ jumped at the chance as it was very reasonably priced. It was three hours long and for the first two hours we crawled along at snails pace because we saw so. much. game. A giraffe barely looked at us as it walked in front of the vehicle, Kudus leapt by a little more skittish, hippos grazing up by the road because the clouds were giving them sun protection, Buffalo, bushbuck and fragile Impala EVERYWHERE. Huge nursery herds wandered about the vehicle, they had all been born after the first rains in the last month and were unspeakably cute. Being a wetland the birdlife was amazing and we saw a huge variety of small and (very) large birds. But Chobe is most famous for elephants. Loads of them. The highest concentration in Africa. It was incredible.
I was not prepared for being so close to so many animals in that open vehicle, it was such a great drive and it was only our first. My cheeks were hurting from grinning and my camera was hot with action. The next mornings game drive was not as fruitful apart from the elephants which you could almost touch as they brushed by. The highlight was undoubtedly the littlest baby whom our guide estimated to be around 3 weeks old. He had not yet learnt how to use his trunk and it flailed around clumsily as he tried to imitate mum. In the afternoon we hopped on an optional boat tour which was by far the best way to see the hippos as well and several other aquatic antelope. At one point we got a little too close and got charged at. The boat driver slammed down the throttle to get out of there, even in a relatively big barge these cranky guys are taken seriously.
Interest in our boat and strange lifestyle was high but the incredulous questions will soon subside. In 14 years guiding Victor has never come across yachties before, I suppose our crowd usually travel independently. He keeps walking up with another question and then walks away with a half smile shaking his head at us.
Zimbabwe - Victoria Falls
| Date: | Dec. 9, 2015, 6:27 a.m. |
It was nice to drive deeper into Durban and see a little more of it, even if it was only on the way to the airport. We are still lazy with recovery from the passage, I feel like we move, think and talk slow, until time or necessity snaps us out of it. King Shaka airport looked like Brisbane international but with leopard print carpet. Only in Africa is that classy. A quick hop across the parched landscape and we found ourselves in Jo-burg airport. It was a massive sprawl, packed with shops, where you can pick up a high end suit and then wander to the next shop to get a zebra skin rug for your trophy room. Thankfully we had a good amount of time between flights to wind our way through and find our gate. The Victoria Falls airport is a smart little building and we were efficiently processed and spat out into Zimbabwe. It has been a long time since we entered a country through the ‘front' door. The lock to my bag had been jimmied open but the most valuable thing I had there was the lock, so little ham was done. A good lesson not to be complacent, however.
Marks family spent three years living in Harare when he was young and he was really excited to come here after fond memories of family holidays at the falls. A lot has changed in 25 years though. The 15 minute taxi ride down the dead straight road to the little township cost a fixed $30US, the shuttle was barely cheaper for the two of us. In Mark’s childhood there was just the stately Victoria Falls hotel here, now there were gaudy casinos, backpackers, motels, hotels and campsites. It’s still a small town but it is a tourist mecca and eye-wateringly priced as such. We found our group, dumped our stuff and wandered about town waiting for our official meeting time. At a local pub Mark snacked on a childhood memory, a $2US plate of simple beef stew poured over sudza (a ground corn porridge which has many different names and is similar to polenta.) We chatted with a few of the other people joining the Intrepid tour, they seemed like a fun group to be spending the next three weeks with. We would later meet the rest of the group which included some very challenging personalities. It turned out that we were joining the final leg of a longer tour, some people all up would be on this truck for 65 days! The strain of camping and living with each other for such a long time was immediately evident when we met ‘the old crew.’ Many of them were at each others throats and for the rest of the trip we distanced ourselves where possible, and hung out mostly with the fresh and fun new crew, plus a few of less frazzled of the ‘old crew.’
Our tour leader was a jolly Kenyan called Victor, (the online forums gave him in particular, great reviews and he did not disappoint.) Our Driver Jackson, was a tall, chilled out dude who I think came from Nigeria, I enjoyed his cheeky sense of humour. The most important man on tour was Simon, our stylish Masai cook. I may not have been so happy to meet him if I had known how fat his terrific food would make us over the course of three weeks… It was not his turn to cook yet however so we feasted on a lovely meal of succulent Warthog schnitzel and flavour packed Impala steak at the In-Da-Belly restaurant while a local group sang & danced beautifully. (Highly recommend the Warthog!)
In the morning we walked from our campsite to go see the main attraction, it was a hot day but it is not far and we had set off early with a chorus of birdsong that would make a kiwi feel at home. (We did not dare try another taxi.) Well intended locals had warned us that the falls have been crippled by the extreme drought (the annual deluge was due any time now,) they were so concerned that we would be disappointed. They need not have worried. Mark has seen Iguacu Falls in South America and we’ve both seen Niagra but as beautiful as they are, neither will move you the way Victoria Falls does. Though its might had been strangled by the drought its beauty had not. In fact, with a lack of water to create the famous drenching mist all the way along, we had the rare opportunity to enjoy the architecture of the gorge that the falls plummet into. There was plenty of water in the Main Falls and Devils Cataract to still give you a taste of it’s rumbling power and a polite soaking at some points but to be able to view right the way down the incredible crevice was a real treat. The rainbows had simply settled down into the gorge rather than crowning them. The photos of it in full swing were just a white out, it must be amazing to experience that but we were quite satisfied with our lot.
We spent several hours lazily wandering about the reserve, enjoying falls, flora and fauna, (best to allow at least two in my opinion.) We decided to give the high priced, extreme activities a miss. After sailing through a force 7-8 storm to get here we felt that no one could accuse us of being scary-cats and we did not need them to enjoy the falls. We watched others partake in hurling themselves into the gorge while we enjoyed a magnificent salad at the cafe overlooking the bridge. In the afternoon we strolled throughout the colonial majesty of the Victoria Falls Hotel and checked out the neat arts and crafts of the Elephant Walk shopping complex. Our decision to do the falls in the morning, in stead of waiting for sunset colours was vindicated by an afternoon thunderstorm complete with lightning show. It was short lived but finally cooled things down, relieving the stifling humidity which had been building all day. Later that evening Mama Africa restaurant served us a Kudu hot pot, it was good and more traditional fare complete with live rasta beats, but if you have only got one night in town I would probably recommend In-Da-Belly.
Our new vessel was a big white truck which Mark would accidentally refer to as the boat throughout the rest of the tour, to the bemusement of our companions. It could seat 23 plus crew, thankfully we were not that many so there were a few spare seats to take turns stretching out on. After having our fill of Vic Falls, the group voted to set off half a day early for Botswana, so we rolled up our tents and packed into our lockers and got moving early the next day. It was exciting to be setting off for one of the more famous game reserves. I was feeling animated again, beautiful Victoria falls had managed to shake us out of our post-passage stupor.
