A marvellous tour, encompassing masses of what Africa has to offer. Very much of what I saw was utterly magnificent, mainly the geography of the continent and the wildlife. Some was less wonderful, for example the stark contrast between the haves and have-nots in the more prosperous regions. The individual highspots have been in the hundreds, and it would be completely impossible to select one, so the final photograph (courtesy of Helen) is to be exactly the opposite, the afternoon the deluge came to Hobas Camp, Fish River Canyon.
The very last word, though, has to be to praise the crew, Maryke, Gary & Mike for their humour, skills, fortitude and dedication to ensuring that the trip delivered what the brochure promised. It certainly did that, and more.
Thursday, February 05, 2015
Sunday, February 01, 2015
01.02.2015 : Day +2
I have to wonder if there is a great lot of point in blogging on, as these final few entries are certainly going to get a touch samey. I added the few days onto the end of AiF in order to cycle the cape a little, so all will essentially read the same.
The only differences from yesterday are :
a) I reset the saddle, so bum now OK, although bruised from yesterday;
b) I rode the quieter city streets today, taking advantage of it being a Sunday;
c) I hit a faulty storm drain cover and damaged the rear wheel, so...
d) I tinkered with it to get it OKish for tomorrow;
e) I returned to lime, following my excursion to caramel yesterday.
The only differences from yesterday are :
a) I reset the saddle, so bum now OK, although bruised from yesterday;
b) I rode the quieter city streets today, taking advantage of it being a Sunday;
c) I hit a faulty storm drain cover and damaged the rear wheel, so...
d) I tinkered with it to get it OKish for tomorrow;
e) I returned to lime, following my excursion to caramel yesterday.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
31.01.2015 : Day +1
A late breakfast - the bike was not due until 1000. Good planning, as it had rained early on anyway. Everything imaginable was on offer in the breakfast room, even the very adaptor I needed for getting the iPad charged (odd, that; I got the whole way across outback Africa being able to hook up with the adaptor I brought, but it was not able to help me in the most modern venue of all visited.) Proprietor Gary really does like to assist his guests at every turn. Where possible, he even makes a point of taking folks to the airport.
Mark arrived with the Le Mond bang on 1000, and we did a bit of tinkering before I took off on a mini loop or two to feel the fit. The loan shoes fitted perfectly, and off I went, heading south towards the cape. It soon became apparent that there is more tinkering yet to do tomorrow, as the saddle soon became unbearably uncomfortable, cutting into my delicate bum summat awful. I am hoping that it is merely misaligned a touch.
Consequently, only 20-25 miles got done, and the afternoon was spent walking the stretch between the B&B and the heavily tarted-up waterfront. Yes, milk shakes were indeed available. Caramel. May go for that again.
Mark arrived with the Le Mond bang on 1000, and we did a bit of tinkering before I took off on a mini loop or two to feel the fit. The loan shoes fitted perfectly, and off I went, heading south towards the cape. It soon became apparent that there is more tinkering yet to do tomorrow, as the saddle soon became unbearably uncomfortable, cutting into my delicate bum summat awful. I am hoping that it is merely misaligned a touch.
Consequently, only 20-25 miles got done, and the afternoon was spent walking the stretch between the B&B and the heavily tarted-up waterfront. Yes, milk shakes were indeed available. Caramel. May go for that again.
30.01.2015 : Day 55
So, that's it then. All done? Not quite, as I am to stay in Cape Town three days to see some highlights of the city my favourite way, from the saddle of a road bike. A classic Le Mond, Campag-shod, for those even vaguely interested. The rental company is even loaning me some shoes, in addition to the usual helmet & stuff.
The last day of the AiF trip started in laid-back fashion with a 0800 cooked breakfast at Highlanders. Great eggs again, Mike. Ben, the Rhodesian Ridgeback cross, got a touch frisky with both Ken and me at the breakfast table, but moved on to other needs when Mike offered him a kudu sausage.
The trip to Cape Town enjoyed metalled roads the entire way. Nobody could remember the last time we had had that. A short stop at a farm shop an hour out of CT was probably fitted into the schedule so that we would arrive at the beach at an appropriate time for lunch. This we did perfectly, right after which came a few speeches and huge thank-yous to the crew for their skills and fortitude in making this such an outstanding experience. If you are considering doing a trip like this, there are many companies vying for your dollars. We have met lots on the road, at camps along the way. I would not put any of them in the same league as AiF. I got lucky when I chose them. They do need to change those tents though.
All that remained was for Benji to get us to the dropping-off point, a B&B in the suburb of Seapoint, where the majority were to spend at least one night. I am to spend four, before flying out on 03/02, so the blog will run a day or so yet. Sorry about that.
The last day of the AiF trip started in laid-back fashion with a 0800 cooked breakfast at Highlanders. Great eggs again, Mike. Ben, the Rhodesian Ridgeback cross, got a touch frisky with both Ken and me at the breakfast table, but moved on to other needs when Mike offered him a kudu sausage.
The trip to Cape Town enjoyed metalled roads the entire way. Nobody could remember the last time we had had that. A short stop at a farm shop an hour out of CT was probably fitted into the schedule so that we would arrive at the beach at an appropriate time for lunch. This we did perfectly, right after which came a few speeches and huge thank-yous to the crew for their skills and fortitude in making this such an outstanding experience. If you are considering doing a trip like this, there are many companies vying for your dollars. We have met lots on the road, at camps along the way. I would not put any of them in the same league as AiF. I got lucky when I chose them. They do need to change those tents though.
All that remained was for Benji to get us to the dropping-off point, a B&B in the suburb of Seapoint, where the majority were to spend at least one night. I am to spend four, before flying out on 03/02, so the blog will run a day or so yet. Sorry about that.
Friday, January 30, 2015
29.01.2015 : Day 54
The penultimate day, and, after barely 15 minutes, the border crossing from Namibia into our final country of the trip, the Republic of South Africa. The border immigration queues, both for exiting Namibia and for entering RSA, were non-existent, but somehow it took an hour to negotiate the crossing. The RSA official, Celeste, would win no prizes for her PR abilities; she graduated with a first from the Pol Pot Charm School.
Not much else to report about the day, except that it seemed to have got yet hotter, leading others besides me to want to upgrade again to aircon at our overnight, The Highlanders, one of the very many wine-growing estates hereabouts. I would say, from the fixtures and fittings lavished upon the rooms, that there is money sloshing about in this business. A lot of money. As with farmers the world over, though, he toed the party line of not having two ha'pennies to rub together.
At 1700, mine host put on a dégustation. All good knockabout fun. Many were tempted to buy a bottle or two. Not a wine lover myself, but I have to say the Chenin Blanc and the Pinotage were rather good.
Not much else to report about the day, except that it seemed to have got yet hotter, leading others besides me to want to upgrade again to aircon at our overnight, The Highlanders, one of the very many wine-growing estates hereabouts. I would say, from the fixtures and fittings lavished upon the rooms, that there is money sloshing about in this business. A lot of money. As with farmers the world over, though, he toed the party line of not having two ha'pennies to rub together.
At 1700, mine host put on a dégustation. All good knockabout fun. Many were tempted to buy a bottle or two. Not a wine lover myself, but I have to say the Chenin Blanc and the Pinotage were rather good.
28.01.2015 : Day 53
It began at about 0130. Ill again. Stomach cramps and lots of retching. Really rather nasty, and exceedingly uncomfortable. Apart from the discomfort, the things that annoyed me most were that here I was in a plush hotel room and unable to enjoy it fully, and also that I was not going to be able to partake of the breakfast which came with the room price.
Departure was late, 1000. Maryke explained that this was arranged to allow those who had taken rooms to enjoy them to the last minute, since checkout was also 1000. Leaving the aircon behind, and stepping into the 35 degrees C, it was immediately apparent that I was about to part company with the breakfast orange, the only item that I had been able to face. Three technicolour yawns later, I was in the back seat with sick bucket and paper towels. Three hours only to go. Praise the Lord it wasn't one of our 14-hour days.
We arrived at Bundi Camp to see Benji waiting for us. Benji is the other AiF truck, to which we must transfer to undertake the SA legs, as Malaika for some reason does not cut the mustard for taking fee-paying passengers on public roads.
While the crew prepared the changeover, many of the group undertook a 'one-hour' canoe trip, beginning at 1500. Feeling a bit crook, and seeing the temperature still holding the high thirties, I passed. A massive blessing that I did, as they came back over two hours later, looking fried. No-one was all that thrilled with the organisation of the jaunt either. I heard words like brewery and piss-up being freely used.
It was Ken's 65th today, and he had bought champers and canapés for a 1830 get-together. Another thing I felt I has to miss; discretion dictated that no food at all should pass my lips. It's a long day tomorrow in Benji.
Departure was late, 1000. Maryke explained that this was arranged to allow those who had taken rooms to enjoy them to the last minute, since checkout was also 1000. Leaving the aircon behind, and stepping into the 35 degrees C, it was immediately apparent that I was about to part company with the breakfast orange, the only item that I had been able to face. Three technicolour yawns later, I was in the back seat with sick bucket and paper towels. Three hours only to go. Praise the Lord it wasn't one of our 14-hour days.
We arrived at Bundi Camp to see Benji waiting for us. Benji is the other AiF truck, to which we must transfer to undertake the SA legs, as Malaika for some reason does not cut the mustard for taking fee-paying passengers on public roads.
While the crew prepared the changeover, many of the group undertook a 'one-hour' canoe trip, beginning at 1500. Feeling a bit crook, and seeing the temperature still holding the high thirties, I passed. A massive blessing that I did, as they came back over two hours later, looking fried. No-one was all that thrilled with the organisation of the jaunt either. I heard words like brewery and piss-up being freely used.
It was Ken's 65th today, and he had bought champers and canapés for a 1830 get-together. Another thing I felt I has to miss; discretion dictated that no food at all should pass my lips. It's a long day tomorrow in Benji.
27.01.2015 : Day 52
Life does this sometimes, we went not from the sublime to the ridiculous, but t'other way about...
You will not be surprised to learn that folks were awake early this morning; the truck is not intended as a wagon lits. I was certainly awake at 0500, and I'll wager I was not the first. Early drinkies took place at 0600, preceding a drive to the rim of Fish River Canyon. Astounding place. The truck plonked us at one scenic overlook, then drove to another and waited for us to walk between the two. Excellent Kodak opps.
Breakfast was waiting back at camp, French toast and pork sausages went down a treat. No, Forest, there was no HP. The better news was that the sun was out and the tents were getting drier by the minute, making packing them less of a claggy trial.
The short journey to Ai-Ais took only 75 minutes, it being only at the other end of the canyon. I was expecting a tiny, tupenny ha'penny camp site, just enough to tide us over for one night en route to Orange River, the border with SA. But no! A wonderfully sophisticated spa resort presented itself to us as we rounded the bend, complete with aircon, full spa & massage facilities and trendy outside shower to each room. Some co-campers did not upgrade and stuck with their tents, but It was very noticeable that it was the four dormitory-truck colleagues who handed their money over for an upgrade pretty damn quickly.
Dinner was a garrulous barbecue affair out in the supremely-appointed cooking area attached to the site allocated to AiF. The veggie bake was supreme.
You will not be surprised to learn that folks were awake early this morning; the truck is not intended as a wagon lits. I was certainly awake at 0500, and I'll wager I was not the first. Early drinkies took place at 0600, preceding a drive to the rim of Fish River Canyon. Astounding place. The truck plonked us at one scenic overlook, then drove to another and waited for us to walk between the two. Excellent Kodak opps.
Breakfast was waiting back at camp, French toast and pork sausages went down a treat. No, Forest, there was no HP. The better news was that the sun was out and the tents were getting drier by the minute, making packing them less of a claggy trial.
The short journey to Ai-Ais took only 75 minutes, it being only at the other end of the canyon. I was expecting a tiny, tupenny ha'penny camp site, just enough to tide us over for one night en route to Orange River, the border with SA. But no! A wonderfully sophisticated spa resort presented itself to us as we rounded the bend, complete with aircon, full spa & massage facilities and trendy outside shower to each room. Some co-campers did not upgrade and stuck with their tents, but It was very noticeable that it was the four dormitory-truck colleagues who handed their money over for an upgrade pretty damn quickly.
Dinner was a garrulous barbecue affair out in the supremely-appointed cooking area attached to the site allocated to AiF. The veggie bake was supreme.
26.01.2015 : Day 51
Another test, another failure. Another abject failure. The tents are, simply put, awful and unable to cope with anything other than calm, balmy weather. They leak and are also unstable at all levels above zero on Capt. Beaufort's scale. Thus, when it started chucking it down again at Fish River Canyon at about 1600, with accompanying Force 4 or 5, we knew it was going to get a touch messy.
After about an hour of deluge (and yes, it is still the desert, so it rains once in a blue moon) the site was a quagmire. The ground was either already an inch deep in mud or a fast-flowing torrent of red-brown ooze. There was no other alternative. Mon repos lost its battle with the force 4/5, and tipped onto its flank into a pool. Inside were mattress, pillows, sleeping bag, nightwear, water bottle, wash bag, tomorrow's clothes, towel and, worst of all, my contact lens kit and medication.
Others were, of course, in a similar situation. After two further hours of Noyes Fludde, during a lull, we chanced a look at the damage. Having lain on its side in the pool for three hours, mon repos had let gallons in through the window (zipped closed of course, but some bloody use that was). On righting it, a passable paddling pool formed, and not one item had escaped a soaking. Fortunately, no electronics had been in there. Others were not so lucky.
Now imagine this: it's still raining, and 9 travellers are all climbing into the truck with shoe soles an inch thicker than they used to be, trailing water, cloying mud and slime throughout, and then attempting to find hanging room or laying-flat room for all their stuff (listed above). Oh, how we laughed.
Four people completely abandoned the notion of tents, when dry spares were offered by the crew, and slept in the truck. This was achieved by each person lying laterally across four seats, two each side the centre aisle. Those who perceived they were least likely to need a nocturnal pee stretched out furthest from the door of course!
25.01.2015 : Day 50
By no means a long day was planned today, just a touch further into the desert to Sesriem, so that we would be able to use that as a jumping-off point to Dune 45 (so called simply because that's how far along the road it is from the park entrance) for a sunrise tomorrow. First, though, a somewhat time-killing stop at Moose's Desert Bakery, at Solitaire, a pastry oasis miles from any settlement. And there's precious little passing traffic. In fact, Namibia & traffic do not belong in the same sentence. Curious to say the least.
Sesriem Camp is somewhat larger and better-appointed than Boesmann. We have returned to the theme of empty, though. And the showers are gorgeous!
Over lunch, taken after erecting tents and lashing them together to ensure their staying in place in the high wind (yes, more dust!), the weather forecast for tomorrow took precedence. There was a high likelihood of cloud ruining the sunrise over Dune 45, so things got rejigged. The group set off there and then to see it while the going was good. Before that, though, a two-hour desert walking trip around Deadvlei and Sossusvlei. A strong, persistent wind got up, however, and I did not take the risk; there is no wind-free bolt hole out there for lens cleaning/removal when things go pear-shaped. And, in any case, I was already down to wearing only one lens, so removing the other would have made me a 24-carat liability. I cleaned the truck, listened to music and wrote blog instead.
When we returned to Dune 45, however, something in the brain told me I had already missed so much on this trip by doing the wallflower act that, having watched the others set off up the thing, I just said bugger it and took off after them. I expected a hot workout, but in effect it was not so, just a concerted, three-up-two-back plod up the ridge of shifting sand. The view from the top was well worth the twenty minutes.
High wind and unpleasant volumes of dust caused an early retirement, 2030. It rained in the night, but the promised storm did not materialise.
Sesriem Camp is somewhat larger and better-appointed than Boesmann. We have returned to the theme of empty, though. And the showers are gorgeous!
Over lunch, taken after erecting tents and lashing them together to ensure their staying in place in the high wind (yes, more dust!), the weather forecast for tomorrow took precedence. There was a high likelihood of cloud ruining the sunrise over Dune 45, so things got rejigged. The group set off there and then to see it while the going was good. Before that, though, a two-hour desert walking trip around Deadvlei and Sossusvlei. A strong, persistent wind got up, however, and I did not take the risk; there is no wind-free bolt hole out there for lens cleaning/removal when things go pear-shaped. And, in any case, I was already down to wearing only one lens, so removing the other would have made me a 24-carat liability. I cleaned the truck, listened to music and wrote blog instead.
When we returned to Dune 45, however, something in the brain told me I had already missed so much on this trip by doing the wallflower act that, having watched the others set off up the thing, I just said bugger it and took off after them. I expected a hot workout, but in effect it was not so, just a concerted, three-up-two-back plod up the ridge of shifting sand. The view from the top was well worth the twenty minutes.
High wind and unpleasant volumes of dust caused an early retirement, 2030. It rained in the night, but the promised storm did not materialise.
24.01.2015 : Day 49
Departure from Swakopmund was punctuated by stops for diesel and a food top-up. First stop thereafter Walvis Bay for the flamingos. I wasn't expecting those on the Atlantic coast, but there they were, hundreds of them. Quite a sight.
The main highlight of the day was to come at the very end of it, an overnight stop at Boesmann Desert Camp, which was to be the place for sleeping out under the stars, no tent required. We arrived mid-afternoon, chilled a bit and waited for proprietor Boesmann to take us out on a short desert drive. No sooner had we heard the meteorological explanation of how it would be impossible at that time for us to encounter rain here in the deepest Namib Desert than it began to come down in stair rods. And stayed that way for 3 hours. Then twice again during the night. Finally, at 0615, it had another go. Daughter Laila, 17 months, was wide-eyed, having never seen rain before. Needless to say, sleeping under the stars was off. One tent was put up, others slept on the floor under cover in the alfresco kitchen area, whereas I curled up in the truck. Not at all bad, to tell the truth. A pair of socks would have been a bonus, though.
23.01.2015 : Day 48
The jury is out re Swakopmund. Some are OK with it, others think it distinctly odd, even uncomfortable. I would say that its incongruities are the thing I will recall. The clashing cultures are perhaps uppermost. On the one hand we saw and heard an utterly German/European standard and way of life, with expensive e.g. clothing, food, cars, hotels and real estate on offer, but co-existing with Namibian nationals struggling to make ends meet by car-minding next to supermarkets, selling really rather fine artwork for next to nothing from either a ramshackle stall or the back of a bicycle, carving patterns onto small nutshells etc., or simply sitting, looking at the day, as they would say on The Emerald Isle.
Hugely apparent the further south we go is the size of the average male frame. Not long from now, we will enter South Africa, and we were forewarned weeks ago that the high-protein diet, and the volume thereof, hoovered in by Afrikaaners as the norm, makes for an overweight nation. Half of them must be on vacation in Namibia. Every time one enters a supermarket, one is faced by battalions of 20+ stone leviathans lumbering round with grotesquely over-filled trolleys. The shops, of course, go out of their way to make hay from this phenomenon; the massive range of top-quality produce on offer is totally in your face at every turn.
Despite meteorological appearances, it got really hot as the day wore on, leaving the unwary Al overheated in the evening. The freezer section in the bungalow kitchen proved to be an excellent solution just before bed. Quality sleep was ensured. Result.
Hugely apparent the further south we go is the size of the average male frame. Not long from now, we will enter South Africa, and we were forewarned weeks ago that the high-protein diet, and the volume thereof, hoovered in by Afrikaaners as the norm, makes for an overweight nation. Half of them must be on vacation in Namibia. Every time one enters a supermarket, one is faced by battalions of 20+ stone leviathans lumbering round with grotesquely over-filled trolleys. The shops, of course, go out of their way to make hay from this phenomenon; the massive range of top-quality produce on offer is totally in your face at every turn.
Despite meteorological appearances, it got really hot as the day wore on, leaving the unwary Al overheated in the evening. The freezer section in the bungalow kitchen proved to be an excellent solution just before bed. Quality sleep was ensured. Result.
Friday, January 23, 2015
22.01.2015 : Day 47
Very, very much a lazy day, catching up on much-needed sleep and giving the right eye a day without a lens to contend with. Others of the group went on activities such as dolphin-watching, typically starting at 0800. No, ta; I slept in, getting up way past 0900, going to town via the launderette (20 N$ per kilo) and taking brunch in an Anglo/Italiano/Germano/Namibio establishment at 1100.
The laid-back tone continued throughout the entire day. Idleness and a stroll, punctuated by the odd lime milk shake or cappuccino, until it was time to fetch the laundry back, take a shower and plan evening meal, taken at an extremely German pub/diner place. Vast portions. Not good for the waistline or the prospect of getting back on a road bike in a week's time. Memo to self: do not repeat this pattern tomorrow.
The laid-back tone continued throughout the entire day. Idleness and a stroll, punctuated by the odd lime milk shake or cappuccino, until it was time to fetch the laundry back, take a shower and plan evening meal, taken at an extremely German pub/diner place. Vast portions. Not good for the waistline or the prospect of getting back on a road bike in a week's time. Memo to self: do not repeat this pattern tomorrow.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
21.01.2015 : Day 46
What's that? We are leaving camp at 0530? Meaning we get up at 0445? In the pitch black? In a dust bowl? Stumbling about with only one eye working? Disassembling the tent in the light of a headtorch? Taking each discrete thing to the truck as soon as it's finished with, rather than put it down on the ground and risk mislaying it in the dark? What an appealing prospect.
And for what? A possible good sunrise over Brandberg, viewed from a point a mile or two down the road, where we were to set up tripods and stuff and wait to be impressed. Most on this trip are (seriously) past 21. All have travelled pretty extensively. We have seen sunrises. We have photographed them to death. And, dear reader, this one did not even begin to mount a challenge. In short, it was naff. The scrambled-eggs-and-ham concoction, with pancakes and blueberries, hit the spot, however.
Our midday stopping-off point was Cape Cross Seal Reserve. As with sunrises, I have seen seals, so was not expecting much. Fortunately, this attraction offered much more than the fierce odour, which was in evidence from hundreds of yards away. The number of seals was huge, all ages, shapes and sizes. Some alive, some dead and already providing snacks for the seabirds. I heard the word cute being used by fellow spectators in response to the youngsters' antics. And yes, it fitted.
On to Swakopmund, an extremely Germanic town. Everywhere one sees Deutsch on the shop windows and hears it on the Straße. Nice place, though, with attractive Victorian architecture mingling with ultra-modern buildings, which look like they have been there only five minutes. AiF surprised us by announcing that we are to be put up in bungalows, two bedrooms in each, for the next three nights. Fandabidozie; we can all tip out our big luggage, discover stuff we haven't seen for seven weeks, rejoice that such things have not been lost, and repack neatly. Icing on the cake? A laundrette 200 yards away. Many of the group remark upon the incongruity of such a setting coming so hard on the heels of this morning's starting point, a bleak, empty wilderness.
We dine at Kücki's gastropub. Lemon sole and Rösti. Pretty damn fine. The Windhoek lager not so. Will try a different one tomorrow.
And for what? A possible good sunrise over Brandberg, viewed from a point a mile or two down the road, where we were to set up tripods and stuff and wait to be impressed. Most on this trip are (seriously) past 21. All have travelled pretty extensively. We have seen sunrises. We have photographed them to death. And, dear reader, this one did not even begin to mount a challenge. In short, it was naff. The scrambled-eggs-and-ham concoction, with pancakes and blueberries, hit the spot, however.
Our midday stopping-off point was Cape Cross Seal Reserve. As with sunrises, I have seen seals, so was not expecting much. Fortunately, this attraction offered much more than the fierce odour, which was in evidence from hundreds of yards away. The number of seals was huge, all ages, shapes and sizes. Some alive, some dead and already providing snacks for the seabirds. I heard the word cute being used by fellow spectators in response to the youngsters' antics. And yes, it fitted.
On to Swakopmund, an extremely Germanic town. Everywhere one sees Deutsch on the shop windows and hears it on the Straße. Nice place, though, with attractive Victorian architecture mingling with ultra-modern buildings, which look like they have been there only five minutes. AiF surprised us by announcing that we are to be put up in bungalows, two bedrooms in each, for the next three nights. Fandabidozie; we can all tip out our big luggage, discover stuff we haven't seen for seven weeks, rejoice that such things have not been lost, and repack neatly. Icing on the cake? A laundrette 200 yards away. Many of the group remark upon the incongruity of such a setting coming so hard on the heels of this morning's starting point, a bleak, empty wilderness.
We dine at Kücki's gastropub. Lemon sole and Rösti. Pretty damn fine. The Windhoek lager not so. Will try a different one tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
20.01.2015 : Day 45
First call of the day was Twyfelfontein for its world-renowned rock-art gallery. And no, I don't mean Andy Warhol. Reinholdt was our guide around the very many examples of the carvings of the San people of Damaraland, making use of quartz tools and the flat, tabular surfaces of the sandstone boulders. The majority can be dated as approximately 6,000 years old. The World Heritage site, although already extensive, nowhere near covers the entirety of the artworks and is to be extended in the not-too-distant future.
Picnic lunch was taken under a Boma at Brandberg, the setting for the afternoon's entertainment, a two-hour walk to see the White Lady. Noel Coward would have been proud of us, setting off at roughly 1445 with the gauge hovering at 37 deg C. Our guide Gabriel set off at a sensible pace, however. At the first shady stop he gave us a short demo of his people's non-verbal language, intriguingly based on just four different click sounds. There are many interpretations of The White Lady rock paintings. Over time a succession of experts has come up with explanation after explanation, each one debunking the previous. Present-day thinking suggests that a White Lady is actually the least likely of the contesting theories.
Tonight's campsite was the dustiest of the dusty. Even Urs had to switch from contact lenses to spectacles. Downright nasty. But, as Forest would quite rightly say, it is what it is. What ya gonna do?
During dinner, a group of the site's employees put on an impromptu performance of song and dance. Clearly only amateur and sparsely rehearsed, they were just naturally talented and thoroughly entertaining.
Picnic lunch was taken under a Boma at Brandberg, the setting for the afternoon's entertainment, a two-hour walk to see the White Lady. Noel Coward would have been proud of us, setting off at roughly 1445 with the gauge hovering at 37 deg C. Our guide Gabriel set off at a sensible pace, however. At the first shady stop he gave us a short demo of his people's non-verbal language, intriguingly based on just four different click sounds. There are many interpretations of The White Lady rock paintings. Over time a succession of experts has come up with explanation after explanation, each one debunking the previous. Present-day thinking suggests that a White Lady is actually the least likely of the contesting theories.
Tonight's campsite was the dustiest of the dusty. Even Urs had to switch from contact lenses to spectacles. Downright nasty. But, as Forest would quite rightly say, it is what it is. What ya gonna do?
During dinner, a group of the site's employees put on an impromptu performance of song and dance. Clearly only amateur and sparsely rehearsed, they were just naturally talented and thoroughly entertaining.
19.01.2015 : Day 44
Namibia is a four-letter word. And the word is dust. It's nobody's fault, but today was the poorest so far....
The day began strangely at Omarunga. Breakfast was to be at 0600, with departure for Palmwag (as in a very gutteral 'Pal-um-vach') apparently to be at 0700. 0615 came, and the usual Muesli-and-Cornflakes bustle had not kicked in. It was still dark, and disembodied headtorches were wandering aimlessly around. The word overslept sprang immediately to mind. Then, with the encroaching light, came a cock-and-bull story about us being in a different time zone from the one we had gone to bed in, and it was therefore only 0515. What's that saying about being cabbage-like, but not green?
The day's drive was long, and seemed to take even longer than it should have. The intended road after Opuwo, where we had been just the other day, had become unavailable, so a detour had to be made. And then the road quality deteriorated to delay us further. The reason? The asphalt had given way again to gravel, which heralded billowing clouds of dust for the rest of the journey. Eyes had to remain tight shut, or lenses removed, for the remaining miles, about three hours' worth. Apparently I missed some rather spectacular scenery as we crossed a mountain pass. Ah well. Worse things happen at sea.
Palmwag is pretty much a dusty (although very well appointed) campsite in the middle of a vast dustbowl in the middle of nowhere. And yet, I am actually liking Namibia. There is just something about it.
The day began strangely at Omarunga. Breakfast was to be at 0600, with departure for Palmwag (as in a very gutteral 'Pal-um-vach') apparently to be at 0700. 0615 came, and the usual Muesli-and-Cornflakes bustle had not kicked in. It was still dark, and disembodied headtorches were wandering aimlessly around. The word overslept sprang immediately to mind. Then, with the encroaching light, came a cock-and-bull story about us being in a different time zone from the one we had gone to bed in, and it was therefore only 0515. What's that saying about being cabbage-like, but not green?
The day's drive was long, and seemed to take even longer than it should have. The intended road after Opuwo, where we had been just the other day, had become unavailable, so a detour had to be made. And then the road quality deteriorated to delay us further. The reason? The asphalt had given way again to gravel, which heralded billowing clouds of dust for the rest of the journey. Eyes had to remain tight shut, or lenses removed, for the remaining miles, about three hours' worth. Apparently I missed some rather spectacular scenery as we crossed a mountain pass. Ah well. Worse things happen at sea.
Palmwag is pretty much a dusty (although very well appointed) campsite in the middle of a vast dustbowl in the middle of nowhere. And yet, I am actually liking Namibia. There is just something about it.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
18.01.2015 : Day 43
Our second day at Epupo Falls began with a sedate breakfast at 0800, a luxury for sure. Our Himba guide, Tom, arrived at camp at 1000 to escort us ten miles or so off the beaten track to the nearest Himba settlement. There was some doubt at first that we would be permitted to visit, as the village was mourning the recent death of a 12-year-old boy, and other Himba from further afield were in temporary residence awaiting the funeral formalities. Luckily we went ahead and spent perhaps an hour there. We took water in many of our 5-litre bottles, saved up over the course of the previous weeks and re-filled at camp. Also some basic provisions such as maize, cooking oil and pasta. This was handed to the head of the village for equitable dispersal around the huts.
The afternoon was lazy. The bar and internet featured quite heavily, although the net access was a touch patchy. The evening meal took place early, at 1800, so that a walk to the falls to watch sundown could be fitted in thereafter yet before the world went completely dark, and it certainly does around here. Nearing the end of the path, almost at the viewpoint, Trevor asked me if the cellphone he had just found was mine. It was. I had not zipped up my 'safe' pocket. Since the pocket was entirely empty, this meant that my reading glasses were also AWOL. I had to set off back there and then, to be able to search while there was still some good light in the sky. I found them almost back by the camp gate.
The afternoon was lazy. The bar and internet featured quite heavily, although the net access was a touch patchy. The evening meal took place early, at 1800, so that a walk to the falls to watch sundown could be fitted in thereafter yet before the world went completely dark, and it certainly does around here. Nearing the end of the path, almost at the viewpoint, Trevor asked me if the cellphone he had just found was mine. It was. I had not zipped up my 'safe' pocket. Since the pocket was entirely empty, this meant that my reading glasses were also AWOL. I had to set off back there and then, to be able to search while there was still some good light in the sky. I found them almost back by the camp gate.
17.01.2015 : Day 42
Well my oh my, that was BuMpY, but well worth it. The last 80 miles of today's drive would have reminded my 2008 cyclochums of the Missouri rollers. Except that, on roadbikes, we would not have been on it in the first place. The surface was, to put it kindly, gravel. The surface, to put it less kindly, was bleedin' awful. I suppose I should have been alerted to the joys awaiting us by the appearance of the grader, shunting up and back, right as we began to eat lunch by the roadside. Perfect timing.
Today's destination was Epupo Falls. Delightful venue. Gorgeous site with best-ever facilities, wifi (if a tad slow) and a squeaky-clean pool (wonder if Trevor will chance it!).
En-route stop-off today was Opuwo, where it was intriguing to encounter bare-breasted Himba women mingling with the crowds in the local Tescwaitbury's. Tomorrow, a trip has been arranged to see Himba life in one of their villages. Watch this space.
Today's destination was Epupo Falls. Delightful venue. Gorgeous site with best-ever facilities, wifi (if a tad slow) and a squeaky-clean pool (wonder if Trevor will chance it!).
En-route stop-off today was Opuwo, where it was intriguing to encounter bare-breasted Himba women mingling with the crowds in the local Tescwaitbury's. Tomorrow, a trip has been arranged to see Himba life in one of their villages. Watch this space.
16.01.2015 : Day 41
A fairly lazy day took us from Okaukuejo to the cheetah farm sanctuary at Kamanjab, a journey of a handful of miles. Thus reveille was a comfy one, with breakfast at 0730 and getaway at 0830. Many co-travellers commented just how very much like Australia the landscape has become. Perhaps I am now able to take Oz off my bucket list, if I have, in effect, already been there.
Outjo was the first stop, for the crew to do a topping-up stop at the OK supermarket. We punters took to the cafés for milk shakes and wifi. Trevor managed to get a 1100 appointment at the medical centre to discuss his apparent ear infection. This was confirmed by the doc, who commented that he sees at least one tourist per fortnight with this problem, the almost certain culprit being the poorly maintained water quality in campsite swimming pools. Once bitten, twice shy: Trevor has not swum since.
On view in town were one or two Herero couples, exquisitely (over)dressed in such extreme heat, the ladies in beautifully tailored dresses in expensive-looking fabric, and with distinctive bi-corn hats. The gents wore suits and ties with dress shoes. They reminded me of guys one might see on the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras.
Disappointment of the day: on arrival at the cheetah farm, we were told that our tour around would be in the back of an open trailer, commencing at 1600 and lasting at least 90 minutes. Furthermore, we learned that for the element of the tour involving the cheetah cubs we were not allowed to wear sunglasses. You guessed it. I had to miss out, and yes, on return the others confirmed it as a highlight of the trip. Life's a bitch, and then ....
Outjo was the first stop, for the crew to do a topping-up stop at the OK supermarket. We punters took to the cafés for milk shakes and wifi. Trevor managed to get a 1100 appointment at the medical centre to discuss his apparent ear infection. This was confirmed by the doc, who commented that he sees at least one tourist per fortnight with this problem, the almost certain culprit being the poorly maintained water quality in campsite swimming pools. Once bitten, twice shy: Trevor has not swum since.
On view in town were one or two Herero couples, exquisitely (over)dressed in such extreme heat, the ladies in beautifully tailored dresses in expensive-looking fabric, and with distinctive bi-corn hats. The gents wore suits and ties with dress shoes. They reminded me of guys one might see on the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras.
Disappointment of the day: on arrival at the cheetah farm, we were told that our tour around would be in the back of an open trailer, commencing at 1600 and lasting at least 90 minutes. Furthermore, we learned that for the element of the tour involving the cheetah cubs we were not allowed to wear sunglasses. You guessed it. I had to miss out, and yes, on return the others confirmed it as a highlight of the trip. Life's a bitch, and then ....
15.01.2015 : Day 40
An early game drive brought us multiple further viewings of lions, rhinos, oryx, springboks, etc, etc, etc; we have been ultra-lucky on this trip. Animals simply turn up wherever we turn up. The day had by now become almost violently hot, and the only thing to do was to hide, and to keep hiding until gone 1800.
There was just one other truck in town, that from Intrepid, and there were only just enough loungers with shade around the pool to accommodate those from AiF. How on Earth the pool copes when the site is full - there were at least twenty further group emplacements vacant, plus all the bungalows - is beyond me.
At sundown the watering hole was again vibrant with wildlife, one elephant in particular putting on a party piece around his favourite tree.
There was just one other truck in town, that from Intrepid, and there were only just enough loungers with shade around the pool to accommodate those from AiF. How on Earth the pool copes when the site is full - there were at least twenty further group emplacements vacant, plus all the bungalows - is beyond me.
At sundown the watering hole was again vibrant with wildlife, one elephant in particular putting on a party piece around his favourite tree.
Friday, January 16, 2015
14.01.2015 : Day 39
We were promised that tonight's campground at Okaukuejo would be the jewel in the crown of Namibian campgrounds, based as it is around a particularly popular waterhole. Maryke got telephone confirmation only at the eleventh hour that the group had got a site allocated.
The day was not rushed, not by any means. It was, in effect, an all-day game drive in Malaika, working our way gradually westwardish across the vast salt pan, >4500 sq ks of arid, grey-khaki scrub with a few trees and fewer waterholes. Deserted, and we are, of course, not yet at the true desert. Lunch was taken in one of the gated compounds dotted about - one is not permitted to alight from one's vehicle anywhere else - and the journey completed at about 1600. The campground is indeed very well appointed, almost plush. Facilities are spick & span, spotless, just like home.
At roughly 1800 the call came that the waterhole was fairly thick with wildlife. Apparently, this 'golden hour' is pretty much predictable every single night. Giraffe, black rhino, jackal, springbok, wildebeest and zebra all came to take the waters.
The day was not rushed, not by any means. It was, in effect, an all-day game drive in Malaika, working our way gradually westwardish across the vast salt pan, >4500 sq ks of arid, grey-khaki scrub with a few trees and fewer waterholes. Deserted, and we are, of course, not yet at the true desert. Lunch was taken in one of the gated compounds dotted about - one is not permitted to alight from one's vehicle anywhere else - and the journey completed at about 1600. The campground is indeed very well appointed, almost plush. Facilities are spick & span, spotless, just like home.
At roughly 1800 the call came that the waterhole was fairly thick with wildlife. Apparently, this 'golden hour' is pretty much predictable every single night. Giraffe, black rhino, jackal, springbok, wildebeest and zebra all came to take the waters.
13.01.2015 : Day 38
The mystery of the vanishing shorts: I had done laundry yesterday and hung it on the lines provided. This morning, there was a yawning gap on the line where my shorts should have been. All my other stuff was there. Send for Clouseau. Luckily all the chaps in our group were right there within yards, and were able to confirm that they had laundered no shorts yesterday. Only two others on the campsite? Yes, that's what I thought, too. Curiously, my shorts turned up in the unseemly pile of kit about to be stuffed into a Canadian rucksack. I somehow managed to find the diplomatic form of words to get them repatriated.
First stop on today's road day was an ATM. Then the Grootfontein Spar supermarket, so that the team could buy victuals for our next few days' meals. Along the way we took lunch at the site of a truly giant meteorite, a nice interlude, and the site was impressively spotless. Just before arrival at the night's campsite, we did a short game drive, in the truck this time, around the Dik Dik Drive. Guess what: the Namutoni campground also is deserted apart from AiF. And the theme of spotless facilities continues. Excellent.
First stop on today's road day was an ATM. Then the Grootfontein Spar supermarket, so that the team could buy victuals for our next few days' meals. Along the way we took lunch at the site of a truly giant meteorite, a nice interlude, and the site was impressively spotless. Just before arrival at the night's campsite, we did a short game drive, in the truck this time, around the Dik Dik Drive. Guess what: the Namutoni campground also is deserted apart from AiF. And the theme of spotless facilities continues. Excellent.
12.01.2015 : Day 37
Out of Botswana into Namibia today. Not too long a drive was planned, but in practice more road miles were added because two of the group were in need of some medical advice. The decision was taken to continue past our planned campsite town and push on to Rundu, because of its sophisticated, new and flashy medical centre.
Maryke got dropped off with the two patients, while the remainder of us continued to the lovely campsite, again empty, apart from two Canadian guys from Vancouver Island, who are hitch-hiking to Cape Town, but perhaps not along the same route.
The medical centre may well indeed be sophisticated, new and flashy, but it does not have enough staff available to advise those attending. Both of my fellow travellers returned without having seen anyone, as no appointments were available in the foreseeable future.
Most of the group headed for the pool and/or the reception area, where wifi was available. Many headed to the pool again during the night to cool off, as sleep proved difficult.
Maryke got dropped off with the two patients, while the remainder of us continued to the lovely campsite, again empty, apart from two Canadian guys from Vancouver Island, who are hitch-hiking to Cape Town, but perhaps not along the same route.
The medical centre may well indeed be sophisticated, new and flashy, but it does not have enough staff available to advise those attending. Both of my fellow travellers returned without having seen anyone, as no appointments were available in the foreseeable future.
Most of the group headed for the pool and/or the reception area, where wifi was available. Many headed to the pool again during the night to cool off, as sleep proved difficult.
Monday, January 12, 2015
11.01.2015 : Day 36
There was an 'island walk' at 0600. I passed. Breakfast thereafter at 0900, and the planned getaway at 1030 was beaten comfortably, by half an hour. The mokoros took us and the kit back across the shallower reaches to a point where a speedboat picked us up for a half-hour blast back to Guma Lagoon Camp. This 30-minute interlude was head & shoulders the best part of the entire island sojourn.
We were back at the centre well in time for lunch. Again we were thrilled to notice that we had sole occupancy of the site. The realisation hit home once more that the afternoon and early evening were going to be sedentary dead time. Maryke put on a photography workshop for those interested.
We were back at the centre well in time for lunch. Again we were thrilled to notice that we had sole occupancy of the site. The realisation hit home once more that the afternoon and early evening were going to be sedentary dead time. Maryke put on a photography workshop for those interested.
10.01.2015 : Day 35
A late reveille and breakfast introduced a lollygagging morning. We were to be leaving for an uninhabited island in the lagoon at 1030 to stay overnight. As we were to be ferried across in mokoros, of which more later, we had to attend a tutorial on rather complicated waterproofing techniques, involving plastic refuse sacks, to get the mattresses and pillows across 100% dry. Those who know me as a touch contrary, even cussed, will not be shocked to learn that I went for a less pernickety option.
A mokoro may well have translated as 'dug-out canoe' a century ago. In 2015, to thus describe our fibreglass vessels might just have been a tad fanciful. The trip across was powered by a poler stood at the stern, not dissimilar to a gondolier or punter, I guess. Each mokoro took two passengers, the gear, lots of it, being stuffed into further vessels. Half-way through the 30-minute journey, it became evident that two huge elephants were awaiting our arrival. We went to a different island.
A bush toilet was dug, and instructions given as to its use. It was only noon. It began to dawn on us that the next event would be dinner, seven hours away. Much thumb-twiddling was done and much Botticelli played. Then repeated. The time passed slowly. It also began to dawn just how little anaerobic exercise is being taken on the trip. My legs will complain like hell when I get on that rental bike in Cape Town.
Before evening meal we undertook an hour's sunset paddle in the fibreglass. The sundown was very impressive. Less impressive was the smoke from the cooking fire drifting into everyone's eyes. I turned in early to escape.
A mokoro may well have translated as 'dug-out canoe' a century ago. In 2015, to thus describe our fibreglass vessels might just have been a tad fanciful. The trip across was powered by a poler stood at the stern, not dissimilar to a gondolier or punter, I guess. Each mokoro took two passengers, the gear, lots of it, being stuffed into further vessels. Half-way through the 30-minute journey, it became evident that two huge elephants were awaiting our arrival. We went to a different island.
A bush toilet was dug, and instructions given as to its use. It was only noon. It began to dawn on us that the next event would be dinner, seven hours away. Much thumb-twiddling was done and much Botticelli played. Then repeated. The time passed slowly. It also began to dawn just how little anaerobic exercise is being taken on the trip. My legs will complain like hell when I get on that rental bike in Cape Town.
Before evening meal we undertook an hour's sunset paddle in the fibreglass. The sundown was very impressive. Less impressive was the smoke from the cooking fire drifting into everyone's eyes. I turned in early to escape.
09.01.2015 : Day 34
From Maun, another transit drive took us to Etsha 13. Etshas are communes set up by Angolan refugees who escaped the conflict in their own country by fleeing into Botswana. Their villages are to be found along our route, and we took advantage of one for parking Malaika in a compound for three days.
We were required to pack really lightly again, as we had done before for the Zanzibar trip, and were then picked up by an ungainly 4-wheel-drive Afrika Korps truck which was able to negotiate the deep, drifting sand en route to Guma Lagoon Camp, a small corner of The Okavango Delta, a vast area of many thousand square kilometres. By a huge slice of luck, we were the sole occupants of the site. Splendid; this made the lovely loos and showers even more attractive. No need to feel the slightest bit rushed. On hand to greet us, making a bit of a mess of the pile of T-shirts for sale at reception, was Ducky, the domesticated owl. Ducky loves to be chuckled behind her ears, much like a Cocker Spaniel.
Mike did fish 'n chips for dinner. Bream, though, rather than cod, plaice or haddock. With veggies. Not a mushy pea in sight. We had been told to watch out after dark for hippos roaming the grounds in between tents and buildings. On the way back to the tents after dinner, Urs did an impressively accurate hippo impression, causing one or two co-campers' hearts to miss a beat.
We were required to pack really lightly again, as we had done before for the Zanzibar trip, and were then picked up by an ungainly 4-wheel-drive Afrika Korps truck which was able to negotiate the deep, drifting sand en route to Guma Lagoon Camp, a small corner of The Okavango Delta, a vast area of many thousand square kilometres. By a huge slice of luck, we were the sole occupants of the site. Splendid; this made the lovely loos and showers even more attractive. No need to feel the slightest bit rushed. On hand to greet us, making a bit of a mess of the pile of T-shirts for sale at reception, was Ducky, the domesticated owl. Ducky loves to be chuckled behind her ears, much like a Cocker Spaniel.
Mike did fish 'n chips for dinner. Bream, though, rather than cod, plaice or haddock. With veggies. Not a mushy pea in sight. We had been told to watch out after dark for hippos roaming the grounds in between tents and buildings. On the way back to the tents after dinner, Urs did an impressively accurate hippo impression, causing one or two co-campers' hearts to miss a beat.
Thursday, January 08, 2015
08.01.2015 : Day 33
Not massively inspiring, in truth. It was very much a transit day, from Chobe River to Maun, 380 miles or so. The roads were very compliant, straight, well-surfaced, fairly pothole-free and empty. Gary got us along fairly quickly, and we arrived in Maun not long after 1400. It is very noticeable that the roads infrastructure, as well as the commercial infrastructure, is improving hand over fist the further south we go.
There was an optional extra on offer, and six took it up. A flight in a seven-seater took them over the Okavanga Delta, as a scene-setting precursor to the area we will be setting off to during the next few days. Quite a nice one-hour option for those with $120 and decent eyesight. As I've banged on about before, no point my going and being unable to appreciate anything. In any case, today was one of those days when a sore eye caused the right lens to be left out. I doubt I'd even have been able to see the plane.
The non-flying three went in the truck to the campground instead, got a few tents up and checked out the pool. Room upgrades were available, but perhaps a little too pricey for what they offered.
I forgot to mention yesterday that we had also seen painted wild dogs on the morning game drive. Quite a coup, apparently.
There was an optional extra on offer, and six took it up. A flight in a seven-seater took them over the Okavanga Delta, as a scene-setting precursor to the area we will be setting off to during the next few days. Quite a nice one-hour option for those with $120 and decent eyesight. As I've banged on about before, no point my going and being unable to appreciate anything. In any case, today was one of those days when a sore eye caused the right lens to be left out. I doubt I'd even have been able to see the plane.
The non-flying three went in the truck to the campground instead, got a few tents up and checked out the pool. Room upgrades were available, but perhaps a little too pricey for what they offered.
I forgot to mention yesterday that we had also seen painted wild dogs on the morning game drive. Quite a coup, apparently.
07.01.2015 : Day 32
Wrong again. No surprise really, as I make a habit of it. I may have mentioned earlier that I had pretty much given up on the game-spotting aspects of the remainder of the trip following Serengeti & Ngorongoro. They had been so fantastic that nothing could follow them, surely.
However, today was elephant day. Our first outing began, in 4x4s, at 0600. Thus reveille was at 0515. The drive lasted three hours, and we got up close and personal with herd after herd. And I mean real close. At one point a herd, even with two or three young, passed within two metres of the vehicle. We just halted on the track and waited for their approach. I could have leaned out and touched them. This was both exciting and somehow not quite right. It felt incongruous that wild animals should be getting to a stage of fraternising with humans in this way. Good for photos, though.
Brunch was taken on our return to camp, the monkeys having been chased off. One had stolen our cauliflower the previous evening, so everyone was now on red alert. Also running back & forth through the camp, as if in a Brian Rix farce from the sixties, was a family of warthog, mum, dad and five tinies.
The second outing was water-borne, starting at 1500. This was, by now for us, a tad underwhelming. Crocodiles, hippos, buffalo, giraffe and fish eagles have become just a little old hat by now. Blasé?
Barbecue tonight.
However, today was elephant day. Our first outing began, in 4x4s, at 0600. Thus reveille was at 0515. The drive lasted three hours, and we got up close and personal with herd after herd. And I mean real close. At one point a herd, even with two or three young, passed within two metres of the vehicle. We just halted on the track and waited for their approach. I could have leaned out and touched them. This was both exciting and somehow not quite right. It felt incongruous that wild animals should be getting to a stage of fraternising with humans in this way. Good for photos, though.
Brunch was taken on our return to camp, the monkeys having been chased off. One had stolen our cauliflower the previous evening, so everyone was now on red alert. Also running back & forth through the camp, as if in a Brian Rix farce from the sixties, was a family of warthog, mum, dad and five tinies.
The second outing was water-borne, starting at 1500. This was, by now for us, a tad underwhelming. Crocodiles, hippos, buffalo, giraffe and fish eagles have become just a little old hat by now. Blasé?
Barbecue tonight.
Tuesday, January 06, 2015
06.01.2915 : Day 31
Very leisurely today, with merely a border-crossing and an hour's driving to undertake. Where is all the traffic?! Between Vic Falls and the border we take the lesser of the two roads, and meet almost nothing. Similarly, the border post is virtually deserted. No queue. We get through in ten minutes. We do, however, have to do a Wilson, Keppel & Betty routine through a tray of foot & mouth solution. Odd.
At Chobe Safari Park campground now for two nights. The other end of the campus is the posh end, so everyone graduates up there to while the afternoon away by the pool. I am not sure that the balance is quite what I expected of this trip; perhaps I am not alone in wondering if the proportion of posh is not beginning to outstrip the more rough-edged, unsophisticated aspects. There is a month to go yet, of course. I should wait until the entire trip is done.
At Chobe Safari Park campground now for two nights. The other end of the campus is the posh end, so everyone graduates up there to while the afternoon away by the pool. I am not sure that the balance is quite what I expected of this trip; perhaps I am not alone in wondering if the proportion of posh is not beginning to outstrip the more rough-edged, unsophisticated aspects. There is a month to go yet, of course. I should wait until the entire trip is done.
05.01.2015 : Day 30
As I said earlier, a day when we would all rather have been gone, further down the road into Zimbabwe, rather than spending it treading water in Victoria Falls. It became a shopping, coffee and blog day. The Shearwater Café not only does great coffee and shakes, but also offers free wi-fi, which is the fastest yet found on this trip. Thus, everyone frequents it. It also has an odd spray-mist pipe surrounding the seating area as a cooling system for patrons, rather like those archways you get to run through during a hot marathon.
There was a decent range of fabrics to select from down at The Elephant Walk craft centre. Job done. Hope I chose some acceptable ones. The standard of craft in every unit was pretty formidable; most in the group bought something or other.
The evening took us off to the Boma Restaurant, a rather cavernous place just out of town, whose main draw was the breadth of the menu. It would be fair to say that we carnivores could try most of the meats we had seen earlier walking the Ngorongoro and Serengeti. Impala, eland, crocodile, kudu, warthog, etc, etc. And a salad bar beyond compare to boot. The sweets table groaned similarly. Possibly the best part came after the food. The entertainment comprised drummers and an acappella performance. Top-drawer.
Back home to a cool tent and instant, quality sleep. At last. Excellent.
There was a decent range of fabrics to select from down at The Elephant Walk craft centre. Job done. Hope I chose some acceptable ones. The standard of craft in every unit was pretty formidable; most in the group bought something or other.
The evening took us off to the Boma Restaurant, a rather cavernous place just out of town, whose main draw was the breadth of the menu. It would be fair to say that we carnivores could try most of the meats we had seen earlier walking the Ngorongoro and Serengeti. Impala, eland, crocodile, kudu, warthog, etc, etc. And a salad bar beyond compare to boot. The sweets table groaned similarly. Possibly the best part came after the food. The entertainment comprised drummers and an acappella performance. Top-drawer.
Back home to a cool tent and instant, quality sleep. At last. Excellent.
Monday, January 05, 2015
04.01.2015 : Day 29
I am still not used to having a skinhead looking back at me out of the shaving mirror at 7.00 a.m. Not much I can do about it now, though.
Breakfast was at 0800. Pancakes and maple syrup. 'Nuff said. Maryke took on the role of mum doling out pocket money, our $30 pp entrance fee to the falls, this time on the Zimbabwean side. We stroll down en masse at approx 0900. It's not far at all, maybe twenty minutes. The guys on the footpath trying to persuade us into buying all manner of carving were not too in-your-face, and gave up after two or three desultory attempts. As did the chap trying to convince us that a one-billion somethings banknote would be my best-ever purchase.
This side certainly has the better deal. The views are so much more impressive than from the Zambian aspect, and more of them. Also, the whole area is tended and presented so much better. Those who had done the hairy, falls-edge swim the previous morning were able to pick out their route to the pool, and could see some of today's participants making their way across. A fine morning was topped off with a splendid milk shake at the gatehouse eaterie. I guess that doesn't come as a shock, readers.
Back to the truck for lunch and a doze, laundry etc etc. and an extremely lazy afternoon by the pool. Tomorrow we have much the same sort of day, and there are mumblings that we would rather have had one fewer day here, and a day spent in another part of Zimbabwe, en route to Chobe in Botswana.
A few of the group returned to the falls in the evening to do a special full-moon visit. No good for someone with iffy eyesight, so I gave it a miss. As it turned out, the authorities at the falls recognised that there was not actually a moon on view on the cloud-covered evening, and the event did not take place.
Breakfast was at 0800. Pancakes and maple syrup. 'Nuff said. Maryke took on the role of mum doling out pocket money, our $30 pp entrance fee to the falls, this time on the Zimbabwean side. We stroll down en masse at approx 0900. It's not far at all, maybe twenty minutes. The guys on the footpath trying to persuade us into buying all manner of carving were not too in-your-face, and gave up after two or three desultory attempts. As did the chap trying to convince us that a one-billion somethings banknote would be my best-ever purchase.
This side certainly has the better deal. The views are so much more impressive than from the Zambian aspect, and more of them. Also, the whole area is tended and presented so much better. Those who had done the hairy, falls-edge swim the previous morning were able to pick out their route to the pool, and could see some of today's participants making their way across. A fine morning was topped off with a splendid milk shake at the gatehouse eaterie. I guess that doesn't come as a shock, readers.
Back to the truck for lunch and a doze, laundry etc etc. and an extremely lazy afternoon by the pool. Tomorrow we have much the same sort of day, and there are mumblings that we would rather have had one fewer day here, and a day spent in another part of Zimbabwe, en route to Chobe in Botswana.
A few of the group returned to the falls in the evening to do a special full-moon visit. No good for someone with iffy eyesight, so I gave it a miss. As it turned out, the authorities at the falls recognised that there was not actually a moon on view on the cloud-covered evening, and the event did not take place.
03.01.2015 : Day 28
Farewell Zambia, welcome Zimbabwe. For such a short day, distance-wise, it began early, at 0700. Five of the group, plus Maryke, undertook the trip to swim in The Devil's Pool, a natural bowl of a lido on the very lip of the falls. It's an adrenalin swim opportunity which has to be closed when the flow gets too fierce: one false move and over you go. 110 metres the swift way down. No point me going. With lenses out, I'd be over before you could say Geronimo. The health & safety controls, even down to asking if one could actually swim, apparently were conspicuous by their absence.
By the time the group was back, showered and packed, it was 1030. We left shortly afterwards. The border was just ten minutes down the road, and was very much a 'monkey zone'; as soon as the truck engine was switched off, all windows had to be tight shut. Sure enough, within seconds they were on the roof, trying the roof hatches. Not TOO slow at the counter, back into the truck, and across the bridge into Zimbabwe. This is the bridge, begun 1903, which enabled Rhodes' dream of a rail line from Cape Town to Cairo.
Entry visas into Zimbabwe on the other side of the bridge were $55, the dearest yet, but apparently the last visa charges of the trip. The campground was only 15 minutes away, actually in the town of Victoria Falls. We are to visit the falls, from this other side, tomorrow morning, so the afternoon was spent strolling the streets of town. Some of the craft work is stupendous.
Susanne's flights worked perfectly. She arrived right on time. We are nine.
By the time the group was back, showered and packed, it was 1030. We left shortly afterwards. The border was just ten minutes down the road, and was very much a 'monkey zone'; as soon as the truck engine was switched off, all windows had to be tight shut. Sure enough, within seconds they were on the roof, trying the roof hatches. Not TOO slow at the counter, back into the truck, and across the bridge into Zimbabwe. This is the bridge, begun 1903, which enabled Rhodes' dream of a rail line from Cape Town to Cairo.
Entry visas into Zimbabwe on the other side of the bridge were $55, the dearest yet, but apparently the last visa charges of the trip. The campground was only 15 minutes away, actually in the town of Victoria Falls. We are to visit the falls, from this other side, tomorrow morning, so the afternoon was spent strolling the streets of town. Some of the craft work is stupendous.
Susanne's flights worked perfectly. She arrived right on time. We are nine.
Friday, January 02, 2015
02.01.2015 : Day 27
A day needed to be devoted to seeing what Livingstone has to offer. This would be it. A few of my co-travellers decided to take up the helicopter flight option. Others joined me on the free resort bus into town - it otherwise goes in empty to pick up employees, so it's a nice gesture to offer the seats on a first-come-first-served basis - for a stroll around. And for my hair to get a trim. You will have noticed from the photo, however, that the guy got carried away. The first stroke reduced the left-hand side to a No. 2, so the rest had to follow. Only a fiver, though, and it will probably be better that short when the expected 40+ degree temps in Namibia come along.
Livingstone is a working town, cheap, with no obvious aspirations to be a tourist Mecca. Backpackers come here to use it as a base for their adrenalin activities before pushing on elsewhere. The market stalls sell what regular market stalls sell. Nothing fancy. Mundane. The main brainwork of the day would be calculating how few Kwachas to get to see me through the remaining twenty hours or so until Zimbabwe.
Helen from Oz joined us today. Thus we are now eight. Tomorrow we will be nine, when Susanne, Urs' other half, completes the roster. We are to remain nine all the way to Cape Town.
Livingstone is a working town, cheap, with no obvious aspirations to be a tourist Mecca. Backpackers come here to use it as a base for their adrenalin activities before pushing on elsewhere. The market stalls sell what regular market stalls sell. Nothing fancy. Mundane. The main brainwork of the day would be calculating how few Kwachas to get to see me through the remaining twenty hours or so until Zimbabwe.
Helen from Oz joined us today. Thus we are now eight. Tomorrow we will be nine, when Susanne, Urs' other half, completes the roster. We are to remain nine all the way to Cape Town.
01.01.2015 : Day 26
A breakfast indoors, in a restaurant setting, quite a novelty nowadays, gets us going. A full English, and the bacon is pretty damn fine, too. Just the HP missing really. New Year's Day, and it's noticeable that there are not many folks abroad this early.
Our start is fairly gentle also. Taxis have been booked for 1000 to take us the 6 miles or so to the falls, Zambian side. There will be an opportunity further into the itinerary to visit from the Zimbabwean side, the finer of the two viewings, we are told. I'll let you know later.
It is true that the Zambian entrance is not over-commercialised. There are far fewer international opportunities than I had previously imagined to separate me from my Kwachas. Also rather obvious - and it's been evident elsewhere before now - is that all the units/stalls sell exactly the same stuff. So, if you don't want a carved mask (beautiful though it is) on the first stall, you don't want it on the next twenty either.
There are a number of walks around the Victoria Falls grounds. We have arranged for the taxis to return at 1300, allowing more than enough time for all of them. The walk most worth tackling is down to the waterside at Boiling Pot, which affords a good view of the Bungee jumping off the railway bridge and the rapids used by the white-water rafters. The 25-minute climb back up to the top gets the blood coursing.
Many activities, both adrenalin and otherwise, are available at Victoria Falls, as you perhaps already knew or guessed. Actually visiting the falls is the cheapest. Almost all the others are offered at urine-taking prices. Part of the explanation is that a whopping 35% tax is compulsorily applied to the basic fee.
Mike's pork recipe for dinner is fabulous, hugely commendable, considering that he is under the weather. The conversation turns to politics. 'Time for bed' said Zebedee.
Our start is fairly gentle also. Taxis have been booked for 1000 to take us the 6 miles or so to the falls, Zambian side. There will be an opportunity further into the itinerary to visit from the Zimbabwean side, the finer of the two viewings, we are told. I'll let you know later.
It is true that the Zambian entrance is not over-commercialised. There are far fewer international opportunities than I had previously imagined to separate me from my Kwachas. Also rather obvious - and it's been evident elsewhere before now - is that all the units/stalls sell exactly the same stuff. So, if you don't want a carved mask (beautiful though it is) on the first stall, you don't want it on the next twenty either.
There are a number of walks around the Victoria Falls grounds. We have arranged for the taxis to return at 1300, allowing more than enough time for all of them. The walk most worth tackling is down to the waterside at Boiling Pot, which affords a good view of the Bungee jumping off the railway bridge and the rapids used by the white-water rafters. The 25-minute climb back up to the top gets the blood coursing.
Many activities, both adrenalin and otherwise, are available at Victoria Falls, as you perhaps already knew or guessed. Actually visiting the falls is the cheapest. Almost all the others are offered at urine-taking prices. Part of the explanation is that a whopping 35% tax is compulsorily applied to the basic fee.
Mike's pork recipe for dinner is fabulous, hugely commendable, considering that he is under the weather. The conversation turns to politics. 'Time for bed' said Zebedee.
Thursday, January 01, 2015
31.12.2014 : Day 25
Another truck day really.
It had started early, very early. The group, especially AF, has lost confidence in the tents' waterproofing. Thus, when it had started raining yet again, shortly after pitching Nyala last night, I had completely ignored its presence, and moved everything into the boma instead, alongside the kitchen equipment and dining tables. Some certainty established. Some sleep ensured? Wrong.
I lasted until 0125. Unable to sleep, with no idea why, I was up and dressed again, doing blog and stuff, with only mozzies and moths sharing my headtorch. Except, that is, the creature that came in to share a co-camper's mattress for the remainder of the night. I had heard the rustling noises - presumably so had she - and was wondering how threatened I should feel by the vicious carnivore out there somewhere. Until the owner's Jack Russell waltzed into my torch beam and took a fancy to an AIF mattress.
Taking down soaking-wet tents, and packing them, is no fun, and there is little point having had a shower before doing so. You need another afterwards. We got away bang on time, 0630, yet again. Like a Swiss watch, that Gary.
He got one of those spurious roadblock checks about an hour into the journey, and left a few kwachas lighter. It happens. See my earlier remarks about standards and a nation's status. Livingstone was not long away, and the Zambezi Waterfront Site easy to find. It's not exactly handy for town, though, given that we are here three nights. On offer on arrival were glamping tents, larger than ours, on hard standing, and with proper beds, light and power. Everyone jumped at the upgrade. I wonder if our crew has picked up our opinion of the default canvas.
An evening 'cruise' caters for dinner and a few drinkies. It's New Year's Eve, so there is the usual raucous-laughter-and-fireworks combo to put up with before bed. Bah humbug. Or does that apply only to Christmas?
It had started early, very early. The group, especially AF, has lost confidence in the tents' waterproofing. Thus, when it had started raining yet again, shortly after pitching Nyala last night, I had completely ignored its presence, and moved everything into the boma instead, alongside the kitchen equipment and dining tables. Some certainty established. Some sleep ensured? Wrong.
I lasted until 0125. Unable to sleep, with no idea why, I was up and dressed again, doing blog and stuff, with only mozzies and moths sharing my headtorch. Except, that is, the creature that came in to share a co-camper's mattress for the remainder of the night. I had heard the rustling noises - presumably so had she - and was wondering how threatened I should feel by the vicious carnivore out there somewhere. Until the owner's Jack Russell waltzed into my torch beam and took a fancy to an AIF mattress.
Taking down soaking-wet tents, and packing them, is no fun, and there is little point having had a shower before doing so. You need another afterwards. We got away bang on time, 0630, yet again. Like a Swiss watch, that Gary.
He got one of those spurious roadblock checks about an hour into the journey, and left a few kwachas lighter. It happens. See my earlier remarks about standards and a nation's status. Livingstone was not long away, and the Zambezi Waterfront Site easy to find. It's not exactly handy for town, though, given that we are here three nights. On offer on arrival were glamping tents, larger than ours, on hard standing, and with proper beds, light and power. Everyone jumped at the upgrade. I wonder if our crew has picked up our opinion of the default canvas.
An evening 'cruise' caters for dinner and a few drinkies. It's New Year's Eve, so there is the usual raucous-laughter-and-fireworks combo to put up with before bed. Bah humbug. Or does that apply only to Christmas?
30.12.2014 : Day 24
I did the guys in the other truck a massive disservice. They were almost exemplary, and the campground was soon quiet. It turned out that they too were to surface at 0430 for a 0500 breakfast and a 0600 getaway on the long haul to Lusaka. Since they are on a similar schedule and also end at Cape Town, we may be shadowing each other quite a bit from this point on.
The 'long haul' to Lusaka is long in terms of time rather than distance. It has been known for groups to take from 0600 to 2000 to complete the trip. Traffic is not to blame, since there is almost none. Roadworks, or rather huge stretches of started-but-currently-comatose roadworks, are the tediously frustrating culprit. Worse still, for the first three (yes, THREE) hours out of Chipata, we crawled, bounced, lurched, pitched and rolled along a cart track of a service lane, yet alongside was a magnificent-by-comparison, two-lane blacktop highway. 95% finished. It just needed a small bridge here or a storm drain there and it's good to go. Why on Earth traffic isn't using it and fed off & onto it around the dodgy bits we shall never know. I am convinced I could have cycled it faster than Malaika was able. Gary must have been tearing his hair out, given the prospect of a 14-hour drive.
Lusaka. The sudden, incongruous appearance of the capital was, for me, remarkable. A shock. We had spent the entire day bumbling along the regular iffy roads with a few trucks (nothing at all like the volume in Tanzania or anywhere prior), the odd MOT-challenged coach and perhaps twenty private cars throughout. Otherwise virtually deserted. Then, a roundabout. A link to the airport approach road. In moments our road is a super-smooth dual carriageway with private vehicles, most new and sparkling, of every hue and manufacturer, purposefully dashing hither and yon. Full parking lots everywhere. Bustle. It is as though Lusaka has been constructed as a pre-fab city, with all the predictable world 'names' on the hoardings, flown in and dropped into place. A paltry five minutes on the road out the other side and it's back to as you were. Unsophisticated, normal Zambia. Did I just imagine all that?
The 14 hours wasn't. Today a mere 11. I have used the word remarkable quite a few times in my ramblings. Gary is ..... remarkable.
The 'long haul' to Lusaka is long in terms of time rather than distance. It has been known for groups to take from 0600 to 2000 to complete the trip. Traffic is not to blame, since there is almost none. Roadworks, or rather huge stretches of started-but-currently-comatose roadworks, are the tediously frustrating culprit. Worse still, for the first three (yes, THREE) hours out of Chipata, we crawled, bounced, lurched, pitched and rolled along a cart track of a service lane, yet alongside was a magnificent-by-comparison, two-lane blacktop highway. 95% finished. It just needed a small bridge here or a storm drain there and it's good to go. Why on Earth traffic isn't using it and fed off & onto it around the dodgy bits we shall never know. I am convinced I could have cycled it faster than Malaika was able. Gary must have been tearing his hair out, given the prospect of a 14-hour drive.
Lusaka. The sudden, incongruous appearance of the capital was, for me, remarkable. A shock. We had spent the entire day bumbling along the regular iffy roads with a few trucks (nothing at all like the volume in Tanzania or anywhere prior), the odd MOT-challenged coach and perhaps twenty private cars throughout. Otherwise virtually deserted. Then, a roundabout. A link to the airport approach road. In moments our road is a super-smooth dual carriageway with private vehicles, most new and sparkling, of every hue and manufacturer, purposefully dashing hither and yon. Full parking lots everywhere. Bustle. It is as though Lusaka has been constructed as a pre-fab city, with all the predictable world 'names' on the hoardings, flown in and dropped into place. A paltry five minutes on the road out the other side and it's back to as you were. Unsophisticated, normal Zambia. Did I just imagine all that?
The 14 hours wasn't. Today a mere 11. I have used the word remarkable quite a few times in my ramblings. Gary is ..... remarkable.
29.12.2014 : Day 23
Relaxed getaway this morning, a 0800 breakfast for a 0900 getaway, and we beat that by ten minutes or so. However, we had got about 800 yards up the sodden track towards the road back to Chipata, when something underneath went bang, big-style. A U-bolt, a major component of the leaf spring suspension, had snapped. Gary was underneath in no time. He loves this sort of stuff. Yes, he had a spare and yes, he was going to do it there and then. We travellers were ferried back to the camp we had just left, by Konrad, the site manager.
A mere 90 minutes later we had the call that Gary had fitted the spare, and off we set to Chipata and the same retail park we had visited a day or two previously. Folks took lunch and/or used the ATM. Tonight's camp was barely five miles out of town, so we were there pronto. Tents up, washing-up duty (from breakfast) done, a sit by the pool with a Fanta, some fat-chewing, and then our hopes of a peaceful night were shattered by the arrival of another truck, full of youngsters, who chose, for whatever reason, to put their tents ridiculously close to our area. The bar is on the other side, so we are effectively penned in between those enjoying the bar and those nattering in their tents. We breakfast at 0500 tomorrow, so sleep might just be at a premium!
A mere 90 minutes later we had the call that Gary had fitted the spare, and off we set to Chipata and the same retail park we had visited a day or two previously. Folks took lunch and/or used the ATM. Tonight's camp was barely five miles out of town, so we were there pronto. Tents up, washing-up duty (from breakfast) done, a sit by the pool with a Fanta, some fat-chewing, and then our hopes of a peaceful night were shattered by the arrival of another truck, full of youngsters, who chose, for whatever reason, to put their tents ridiculously close to our area. The bar is on the other side, so we are effectively penned in between those enjoying the bar and those nattering in their tents. We breakfast at 0500 tomorrow, so sleep might just be at a premium!
28.12.2014 : Day 22
Interesting night. I developed a temperature, and it was clear that the bites which had transformed my lower leg into a butcher's slab had become infected. It was decided to get me into one of the rooms usually reserved for group leaders. By the time this could be put into practice, the deluge had turned the site into a quagmire reminiscent of the old Cardiff Arms Park, I couldn't see what was going on because the contact lenses were safe in their container, requiring me to be steered barefoot through the morass, hanging on to my worldly goods in Farm Foods carrier bags. I felt a complete idiot. Fortunately I didn't step on any nasties.
All I wanted to do was sleep, which I did perfectly adequately until the doctor (Fiona, from Glasgow!) arrived in mid-afternoon. The temperature had not gone down enough for her liking, and a malaria test was performed. Negative. Just the infection to contend with then. Five days' supply of anti-biotics should do the trick. There are better ways to spend $200. Mind you, I preferred my ailment to that of the girl from another truck, who stepped on a scorpion. She was vocal.
First thing to happen after rains is a massive influx of termites, followed by scorpions and snakes. Millipedes and centipedes show up later to complete the party. Two millipedes, about 15 cms long and the girth of an index finger, popped in to say hello while I was enjoying the sick bay. The smorgasbord of goodies is too much for the rodents to resist; they pop out to feast on whatever is on the menu.
All I wanted to do was sleep, which I did perfectly adequately until the doctor (Fiona, from Glasgow!) arrived in mid-afternoon. The temperature had not gone down enough for her liking, and a malaria test was performed. Negative. Just the infection to contend with then. Five days' supply of anti-biotics should do the trick. There are better ways to spend $200. Mind you, I preferred my ailment to that of the girl from another truck, who stepped on a scorpion. She was vocal.
First thing to happen after rains is a massive influx of termites, followed by scorpions and snakes. Millipedes and centipedes show up later to complete the party. Two millipedes, about 15 cms long and the girth of an index finger, popped in to say hello while I was enjoying the sick bay. The smorgasbord of goodies is too much for the rodents to resist; they pop out to feast on whatever is on the menu.
27.12.2014 : Day 21
A tale of two game drives. One in the morning ran from 0630 to 1030 and was somewhat dull, monochrome and unexciting. The animals had obviously found something better to do than promenade for Muzungus in jeeps. I had bum ache long before the four hours were up.
Lounging about by the pool or sending blog paras filled the time until 1600, the start time for the evening game drive. There had been much discussion about actually going on the second drive, as the first had drawn a virtual blank. What a good job we found more faith. The animals' evening shift put on a magnificent show, including lions, hippos, leopards (yes, plural), hyenas, wild dogs (a very rare spotting, apparently), and tiny, newborn young of elephant and giraffe.
The last two hours of the drive, after a sundowner drink on the riverbank, were conducted in darkness, a spotter sweeping the landscape with a high-intensity beam.
Shortly after zipping the tent up it began to rain......
Lounging about by the pool or sending blog paras filled the time until 1600, the start time for the evening game drive. There had been much discussion about actually going on the second drive, as the first had drawn a virtual blank. What a good job we found more faith. The animals' evening shift put on a magnificent show, including lions, hippos, leopards (yes, plural), hyenas, wild dogs (a very rare spotting, apparently), and tiny, newborn young of elephant and giraffe.
The last two hours of the drive, after a sundowner drink on the riverbank, were conducted in darkness, a spotter sweeping the landscape with a high-intensity beam.
Shortly after zipping the tent up it began to rain......
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