Shangando

Monday April 16th – To the Okavango

We awoke at the ungodly hour of 3.45 am. Those who think that these trips are a bit of a doddle just have no idea what they are talking about. To the contrary we were beginning to feel that we were undertaking some sort of military training as the pace was pretty relentless every day.

Apart from the light of the brightly shining stars overhead there was no sign of either sun or moon as we packed up our tents in the pre dawn darkness. Gradually the rest of the team roused themselves from the Land of Nod and started the onerous job of breaking camp.

By 6 am we were all packed and ready to leave Etosha after a fantastic two days spent here. Our day’s journey was going to take us from Etosha still further north to the far north-eastern corner of Namibia and the Angola border. It is here you find the narrow strip of Namibian territory known as the Caprivi Strip. This narrow strip is bordered by Angola to the north and Botswana to the south.

Altogether we had about 650 km to travel before nightfall so we settled down to a long day on the bus. Fortunately the roads in this region are sealed, meaning that we could maintain a good speed all the way. Although this is one of the major highways of Namibia there was almost no traffic and we could easily travel for an hour or more at a time without seeing another vehicle.

As we travelled further we noticed a steady change in the vegetation we were passing through. The road was passing over a central plateau and rose steadily from about 1100 m to over 1500 m above sea level. We entered a region where the trees were thicker and taller than any we had seen previously. For the first time we also noticed a lot of agricultural activity – mostly corn and cattle.

Another thing that was evident was the higher population density. Every few minutes we passed by another small native settlement, each one consisting of a small number of thatched huts. The group of huts was always surrounded by a high fence, presumably to keep wild animals out.

To avoid the hottest part of the day schools here run from 7 am to 1 pm. When the clock ticked to 1 pm the roads were inundated with numerous groups of students and teachers walking back to their villages. While most chose the safer route along the edge of the road I was rather concerned to see some walking right down the middle. They obviously don’t expect to see many cars.

AT one point we stopped and our guide pointed out the very important Marula tree growing by the side of the road. These trees produce a golf ball sized nut which has a very high concentration of vitamin C (apparently about 8 times higher than an orange). These nuts can also be fermented to make the popular Amarula Liqueur. There are many stories about wild animals (including elephants) becoming intoxicated from eating marula nuts, but other animal experts have cast doubt on their validity.

In many place the road continues dead straight for many kilometres at a time, reminding me again of just how vast the African continent is. Although we had now travelled more than halfway from the Cape of Good Hope to the Equator, when viewed on a map of Africa we had hardly made a scratch.

Finally, at about 5 pm, we were told that our long day’s travel was nearing an end. We were certainly looking forward to being able to get out of the bus and having a good stretch. Turning a right hand corner we gained our first view of the famous Okavango River, although in this region it is actually called the Cubango River.
Heavy rains in Angola had swollen its flow so that it had broken its banks and had spread into the surround lowlands. What a contrast this was when compared to the barren deserts we had been travelling through just a few days earlier. We were now surrounded by a sea of green grass and an apparently unlimited supply of fresh water.

Tickey pulled off the sealed road and onto a very narrow and rough track through the sand. The sign at the turnoff proclaimed Ngepi Tree House Lodge 4 km”. We did not realise that the main excitement for the day was just about to begin. With branches scraping along both side of the bus we lurched violently from side to side as Tickey fought hard to keep moving through the soft sand.

After some time of battling along this track we came up alongside the swollen Okavango. It had not only burst its banks but apparently it had flooded a good proportion of our camp site, including at least one of the tree houses that we booked to stay in. When Tickey turned directly into the river we could not help getting a little alarmed. The water was flowing swiftly across our path and there was no way to tell how deep it was. I had visions of us being swept directly into the crocodile infested Okavango.

Just as we were about to enter the water Tickey directed young Richard to walk ahead of the bus to test the depth of the water and the firmness of the track underneath. I am not sure how well Richard took this instruction but he jumped out and tentatively probed ahead for a safe path through the water. Tickey started driving close behind and could not help but notice that the only part of Tickey that was white were his knuckles on the steering wheel. I glimpsed out of the window at the water swirling all around us and could only hope that Tickey had done this many times before (I later found out that he hadn’t).

As the bus dropped deeper into the swollen river the water rose rapidly up the steps into the cabin. Anxious faces were anticipating a certain doom but somehow the bus kept inching forwards until it finally began to rise again on the far side. I felt a a collective release of held breaths. Maybe we wouldn’t die after all, but it sure had been another adventure in a trip that we will never forget.

When we finally reached the reception area we found it to be almost underwater but somehow Tickey squeezed the bus alongside and we splashed through the water to higher and drier ground. A couple of staff members carried our luggage from the bus to the campsite. You could not help but feel that we were sitting in the middle of the river as we had water flowing past both sides. I tried not to think about what would happen if the water level rose any further during the night.

Claire, the young manager, told us that one of the tree houses was under water and would not be available. Unfortunately this meant that Bob and I would have to settle for an alternate type of accommodation for our stay. This was a little disappointing as we had been really looking forward to sleeping over the river, but there was no other alternative. At least the remaining houses were just above the water line so everyone else would be able to experience the Okavango at very close hand.

Now that we had arrived at Ngepi we could actually begin to have a good look at our surroundings. The camp itself was on a narrow strip of land, bounded on one side by the swollen Okavango and on the other side by the overflow from the river. To all intents and purposes we were camping on an island. The famous tree houses that we had heard so much about were really quite unique. Each hut is made out of little more than bamboo and thatch and is open to the weather on most sides. The ones on the river open up to give the resident an unbroken view out on the water. Every hut had been built on a different plan and we spent some time just looking at each hut to see what surprises it contained. It truly was a wonderful place. Above each bed is a large mosquito net to keep the malaria carrying mossies at bay. A single small fluoro hung from the ceiling and the toilet and shower allowed you to attend to your business as close as possible to the nature around you.

When Bob and I were shown to the alternate hut that was available for us I was a little disappointed that we would not be able to directly see the river. On the other hand we actually had a room each, meaning that we would have a little space to spread out and I would not be entertained by Bob’s energetic snoring each night. I suppose it really is true when they say that every cloud has a silver lining!

We quickly unpacked in the rapidly failing light and joined our group for dinner in the open restaurant on the water’s edge. The sign near the entrance reminded us to “Beware of hippos and crocodiles”. I could not imagine a more exotic location than this and Australia was beginning to seem like a distant memory.

It had been a long and eventful day and soon after 8 pm I went to bed and spent some time struggling to get the mosquito net securely arranged around me.
During the night I awoke several times to the sounds of nearby hippos grunting and splashing about. Apparently they emerge from the river every night to graze on their favourite trees in the campsite.

The next morning I discovered that I had a large mosquito bite on my big toe. The bed was quite small and I had obviously poked my foot out the end while I was asleep. I tried not to worry about whether or not the guilty mozzie might have been carrying malaria or some other disease. It was too late now to make any difference. I also discovered a spider on the wall next to our toilet. It looked a bit like a small huntsman and it turned out to be the first and only spider I ever saw in Africa. At the start of our trip I had warned everyone to be on the lookout for the dreaded “two headed black mambas” and, somewhat surprisingly, we never saw one of those either.Read more