Jill wanted to head into Botswana and visit the Okavango Delta. We stayed one night in a camping resort on the banks of the Kavango River, Angola was just over the other side. Jill and I were both a little tired of my 'one pot wonder' camping meals we'd been on for over a week, so we hit the restaurant and ordered a big chunk of meat and vegetables, each of us struggling to finish the huge portions.
The next night we stopped at the Rainbow Camp, also on the Kavango River, but this time it was Botswana across the way. My friend Tam had suggested this would be the best spot for Jill to find a lift to Botswana as a number of overlanders came through here as well as independent travellers.
Sure enough before the night was done Jill had a berth with a dutch couple, who had stayed at the same place as us the night before, but we'd not said hello to them. The universe was giving us a second shot at making the connection, and it was the perfect solution.
That night we were entertained by the bar staff, one of whom was celebrating his 21st (though I'm sure it wasn't actually, just an excuse to get the crowd excited about spending more beer money). This involved a few renditions of 'The Springbok', which involves a dance and a story and finishes with downing a shot.
There was also some toilet humour, for the men ...
The next morning I was hanging up my towel after a shower on a line strung between two trees. In doing so I disturbed a wasp that lives in one of these trees, the first I knew of it was when it was stabbing furiously at the tip of my nose. Now I know I have a large-ish nose, but that it would be the primary attack target seemed a bit harsh. It hurt like hell too, and in slapping at the wasp I dislodged not only my sunglasses from my head, but one of the lenses from the frame. Some ice from the bar eased the pain, and I was very cautious not to disturb anything when I came back for my towel a few hours later.
With Jill on her way to Botswana I was again travelling solo, and was headed for the eastern end of the Caprivi strip. I had been invited to visit a fishing lodge run by a couple (Tony and Lara) who are friends with two of my closest friends back in Perth. With reduced access back to Sth Africa I had some time to spare. It turns out that the road in to the lodge was now closed, and I would need to park at a nearby lodge and get collected by boat. There is a huge government rice production operation next to this other lodge, so they have a road that stays open right through the flood season. It does however get a bit slippery after rain, and I'd had at least three thunderstorms pass overhead already this day. I was glad as I drove the 12km of damp clay road that my little hatchback was pretty versatile, and that I got in just ahead of another large downpour. There were a few brief moments, but nothing too wild, mainly just having to use the 'damaged' parts of the road when there was traffic coming the other way.
The same day I arrived Lara's parents (joint owners in the lodge) made it in through the flooded access road in a hilux towing a trailer full of supplies, in the failing light of dusk. This was not to Cherie's enjoyment, but Johan, a former competitive rally driver was only concerned about swamping the engine. Two days later we took the hilux back out through a series of back tracks which was the least flooded option, but still coming to the tops of my thighs. This was early February, and most likely the last vehicle in or out until late May or June when the flood subsides and returns to staying within the river banks.
We were just in time as the river rose about 70cm over the next week, slowing its rise each day as more and more of the flood plain around us went under. The lodge was now an island about 80m wide and 300 or so metres long.
The mighty Zambezi, full to the brim ...
Camping anyone?
The road out of here, but only if you have an amphibious vehicle ...
Or you're stork ...
This is how we came and went ...
While I was there they had a few groups of guests. There was also some significant renovations with a full rebuild of the kitchen and restaurant. I helped with the stripping out of the old fitout, which involved knocking over an internal wall. The rebuilding was nearly done by the time I left, and it was impressive how much got done.
I want you to visualise then the manner in which food and building supplies are collected and brought to the lodge.
Take boat to adjacent lodge, collect truck, drive 20km to town. Visit at least 4, and maybe as many as 7 or 8 shops to get all the required food, drink, truck and boat fuel, building supplies, collect the mail and get more mobile phone credit. Maybe also a trip to the medical clinic for the kitchen staff to get food handling certifications. Just getting the food from the store shelf to the truck involved moving it 4 times, shelf, trolley, check out, trolley, get stopped at the door and have a security person scrutinise the docket and two trolleys worth of food, then outside to load the truck. After everything is collected, drive back to lodge, carry everything from truck to boat, making sure boat is balanced, back to Kalizo Lodge and unload from the boat, only to have to load into another truck to move it from boat dock to office, kitchen / restaurant and bar. Did I mention how good that access road was after rain?
While all this was going on, a lot of work was spent filling sandbags to stabilise the river bank. Particularly the area outside the bar which was under most threat. Meanwhile in an area that looked pretty calm and not much threat, we lost more than 150 square metres of river bank, and two trees.
And when the river is not trying to engulf you, or wash you away, you need to watch out for some of the locals.
The sunset tour boat, which one of the local crocs is said to live underneath between the pontoons ...
On the critter topic, the rising flood waters meant that more than a few animals were seeking refuge on the lodges little island, including monkeys and snakes. After one snake was clubbed to death, I made a set of snake catching tools that would enable the relocation of snakes safely, or so I hoped. The next snake seen, a little one, possibly a spitting cobra, but no way to be sure, disappeared into a hole in the ground (underneath the owners hut) while I attempted to catch it. I suspect without a positive demonstration my hand made tools will more likely be used for the safe removal of snake corpses rather than live relocations, but hopefully the tools will at least be useful.
It is a challenging life, and if you are interested in reading their blog of life on the zambezi, check out http://tacklingthezambezi.blogspot.com
That was just about it for me in Namibia, as I did all the interesting things on the way up. However I had to return to Cape Town, so still needed to drive the entire length of the country on the way back, as my hire car was not allowed through the other neighbouring countries. On the way back I checked out a large metorite ...
And in the capital Windhoek, I met a Nepalese sherpa who was cycling around the world, trying to raise awareness on social and environmental issues both in Nepal and other places he has seen in his travels. His plan 151 countries in 18 years, this is his 10th year and he is about 60% there, so doing well. He has left behind a wife and 2 children, and only gets back to Nepal every 5 years, so in the last nine years has seen them once, and goes home again in December. Interesting chap to have a chat to. He normally travels with a trailer as well, but had met some folks also heading to Angola who were taking it for him, so he would have a lighter than normal load for the next week.
On reaching the border, I was allowed back into South Africa after paying my administration fine (see my post A Funny Story for details). The receipt stamp, which counters the illegal immigrant stamp is five pages later in my passport, so it still looks like I am a dodgy vagrant .....
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