Day 19 - In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle...
October 13 in Botswana ⋅ ☀️ 36 °C
14:30
My alarm wakes me at 05:00. I can’t remember the last time on this trip my alarm woke me up, other than from a nap. I leap out of bed, and nearly come a cropper on my rucksack. Some coffee, a bit of journalling, and I’m out side to meet my game drive transport just before 06:00. What turns up is a nine seater - the common mode of public transport across Africa. I worry briefly that this is the vehicle that will take us into the park, but my fears are quickly quashed when we arrive at Sedudu gate, and we’re advised to jump into a waiting, open-sided safari vehicle.
Our driver is Joy, and she is a joy. Bubbly, knowledgeable, and a cracking pair of eyes. The first hour of our drive consists largely of antelope and some birds. Oh, and some hippo. As we push further into the park, we come across a herd of elephant, including a tiny but really not tiny little baby. We see a streak of several trucks heading further West, and take off in, if not hot, then mildly warm pursuit. I ask Joy where we’re headed, and she says a pride of Lion have been spotted near Ihaha. We cruise for maybe 20 minutes, until we find 5-6 safari trucks parked up at the side of the track. The lions are perhaps 60m from us, and it’s a big pride. There are a couple of 3-4 year old males, their manes just starting to show at that age. There are I think 4 or maybe 5 adult females, and 3 cubs. Joy reckons around 8 months old. We spend 20 minutes with these beautiful cats. They’ve recently fed, and are snoozy. Occasionally, one gets up to pad around looking for somewhere cooler, not realising that one bit of shade is gonna feel much like another bit of shade. Stunning.
We stop for a cup of tea at a nearby picnic site. I check my photos on my camera. I’d feared that 60m might just be a *bit* too much for my camera to cope with, but on the small screen on the back of the camera, they look pretty good. Will have a better look on my MacBook later.
The rest of the drive is a little tame by comparison. Some more elephant, a giraffe and some birds. Just as we’re heading back towards the gate, I spy a spotted hyena. Heartbreakingly, it is running on only 3 legs, while the 4th flaps around - clearly broken. I ask Joy if the broken leg is a death warrant, and she says that it almost certainly will be She reckons it’ll have been a clash with lions that caused the injury. I ask if safari trucks ever hit animals, but she says incredibly rarely. Some of my colleagues on the game drive ask Joy to drive off after the hyena, but I’d much prefer the poor thing to be left alone. I ask her (I’m sat up the front, nearest to her) whether we can head off in the other direction, and she solemnly nods.
I’m not particularly hungry when we arrive back at Rustiek, so head out to run some errands. It’s feeling crazy hot today. The forecast is for much the same, but it *feels* hotter than at midday on previous days. I stop in for some lunch at Coffee Buzz, where I had a great breakfast yesterday. I’m still on the hunt for something traditionally Botswanan, but have a sneaking suspicion I’ll fail. What I have at Coffee Buzz is straight out of the European playbook - chicken schnitzel. It’s a very good chicken schnitzel, but it’s not exactly immersing myself into local cuisine. My early start + a couple of Savanna + some carby food = nap time. I grab a wonderful 60 minutes on the sofa, and wake up feeling delightful.
20:45
Around 15:30, I head out for my final game drive of this trip. I wanted to have a self-drive as my last expedition, partly to be selfish about what I wanted to see and do, and partly to say goodbye to this amazing vehicle that has been my constant companion for the past few weeks. It feels appropriate that, during the game drive, I click through 5,000km for the trip. I’ve only got about 10km tomorrow to the rental depot, so in my mind, this is the last trip I’m making in it. I have a yoghurt coated date to celebrate.
I see lots of hippo, TONS of elephant, some vervet monkeys, some baboons, many birds and some giraffe. It’s a wonderful way to sign off the most intense and rewarding safari experience of my life.
As I’m heading towards the gate, 3 trucks tear past me in the other direction, clearly following a radio tip-off about a predator sighting. I briefly consider turning and following, but reason that there’ll always be another sighting. I’ve had incredible luck over the past 10 days, and I’m happy to sign off with the experiences I’ve had.
I head back to Di Kubu for some dinner. I ask, no - I DEMAND that my server points me to something local and traditional. He says they don’t really do that - no one locally does, as:
1) International tourists don’t wanna eat it, and
2) It’s not very tasty
I reason that there must be something that will give me a clue, and he points me to Seswaa balls. Don’t panic - Seswaa isn’t the name of some obscure beasty from these parts, and I’m not eating its, well - parts. Seswaa is the name of a Botswanan beef casserole dish. Tough cuts of meat are braised in water and spices until tender. They’re then pounded to a smooth (ish) texture. Think Birria beef, and you’re not a million miles away. At Di Kubu, the pounded beef is then wrapped in pap (African version of polenta) which has been flavoured with butter and cheese, then crumbed and deep fried. The resulting dish is served with a white truffle (oil) sauce. It is AMAZING. The beef is a tender and tasty, and the balls are uber-crunchy. Banging in all directions.
The ‘Greek’ salad I have alongside my balls is not really a Greek salad. It’s some feta crumbled on it, but that’s pretty where much the overlap ends. It’s tasty enough, but Greek - it is not.
Back at Rustiek, the lodge is shrouded in darkness. Power cut I reckon. Must have happened after sunset, as my room has stayed cool. Temperature topped out at 43C today. AYE CARUMBA.Read more
Day 18 - Take me to the River
October 12 in Botswana ⋅ ☀️ 35 °C
18:50
Been meaning to write all day, but I’ve been busy, busy, busy - no time for underpants. I’m up early for a game drive, having slept well. I’m out of the lodge’s gate by 06:15, and at Sedudu Gate, the main entrance to the Chobe Riverfront by 06:30. I LOVE this time of day in parks. There’s a cacophonous tranquility to being into the park before many/any others. I head down to the lower part of the riverside, where I saw so much incredible wildlife yesterday, and find - well, not much actually. There are some impala, and many helmeted guineafowl - the ubiquitous blue headed ground birds that so seem to enjoy elephant shit. I see some elephant as well, down at the water’s edge and from a height, which is pretty cool. It’s definitely not my most successful game drive though. I return to my lodge via a little café that is well reviewed, and who serve me an excellent ham and cheese omelette, and possible the best cup of coffee I’ve had in 3 weeks.
I’m back at my lodge by 10:00, and have nothing to do until my river safari at 15:00. I slept well, so don’t particularly feel the need to nap, and it’s a wee bit early to crack open a cider. I make do with laying out on my sofa, in the cool breeze of the A/C, and reading my book. Somewhere around 11:00, my eyes start to get a little tired, and before I know it, I’m waking up at 13:00. Super self-indulgent sleep. My room has a corner bath, and despite the high 30s heat, I’ve missed my bath. I’ve always enjoyed them, but so much moreso as a means of pain-relief in my knees. I run myself a pretty hot, and pretty deep bath, and slide in. Deluxe. I’m also enjoying the chance to give my feet a good soak. On this trip, they’ve been perhaps the muckiest they’ve ever been. A combination of mud, red sand, and flip-flops. A good soak brings them some of the way back towards acceptability.
At 15:00, I head out on my river safari. It’s a small-ish boat - maybe 12 of us onboard. Real mixture of nationalities. Where Namibia was c. 80% German tourists, there is no dominant culture here. There are 4 Italians, who sit surrounding me, 2 Swedes, a German, a Korean, a Japanese woman, A Brit couple towards the back of the boat, and a man of indeterminate origin. The sun is still super-hot, so I’ve picked a seat that I think will remain in the shade for the longest time possible. I’ve seen this stretch of river from the riverbank a couple of times now, but there’s something markedly different seeing it from the water - calmer somehow, and more peaceful. At one point, we see a warthog family, and I’m *pretty* sure one of the Italians mentions that they make great eating, and he has a recipe. A while later, I think he says something similar about crocodiles, but non parlo molto Italiano. Seeing hippos up close, both in the water and grazing on land is very special. We see several crocs of various sizes, a herd of buffalo, tons of birds. It’s a wonderful way to spend a few hours.
Back at the lodge, I’m conscious I’ve not eaten anything since breakfast. I drain an ice cold Savanna in zero seconds flat, and ask to have a look at the dinner menu…..
21:30
Dinner is, well - let’s say the glass of wine I had was nice. I’m still not convinced I know what the food of Botswana really is, despite several attempts to find out. This evening, I eat at the hotel, where the menu is somewhat limited. I opt for a steak, a T-bone. It’s reasonably tasty, but very tough - as a result of poor husbandry, poor butchery, or poor cookery - I’m unsure. Chips are good though. I meander back to my room via the reception desk to check what time my game drive departs in the morning, and am told a fairly brusque 05:30. Yikes. I push a little harder, and am told, yeah - it’s more like 06:00, but we don’t like people to be late. Righto.
Back at my room, I briefly consider a glass of wine, but decide against. Tomorrow is my last day of safari on this trip, and I want to be in tip-top shape for it. I mooch for a while, cooling down as much as anything. Even at 20:00, at the hotel’s restaurant, the temperature is still in the mid 30s. Reports from back home of consistent cold and soggy weather, and that sounds pretty damn good. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such intense heat for such a long period of time before. Thailand, maybe - back in 2025. Even there, there were cooling breezes on the islands, and a bit of a temperature range. Across my trip, the coolest day has topped out at 35C, and the hottest at 42C, which was about as hot as I can ever remember feeling. Brutal.
Thankfully, my room is serenely cool. An early night for me, and a correspondingly early alarm call.Read more
Day 17 - I wanna g'wanna Botswana
October 11 in Botswana ⋅ ⛅ 34 °C
14:15
I sleep through till past 06:30, which is a result. I’ve had a little over 8 hours. BOOM! I wanna get away in decent time, as I’ve heard the Botswana border can take as long as a couple of hours to get through. There are various checks to be completed - particularly for foot and mouth (FMD) and hand, foot and mouth disease - which I’ve not heard of before, and which apparently is a danger to humans as well. Think I mentioned yesterday that there are super strict rules on what can and can’t be brought into Botswana, and it’s as a result of these disease outbreaks.
Stefan cooks me a fabulous breakfast, including the best beef sausage I’ve had on the trip so far. I’m on the road by 08:30, and on the straight shot through to Ngoma border crossing. I’ve not really done land border crossings much in the past 30 years. Plenty of immigration/customs in airports, but land borders? A handful at best. The wonders of the EU, and freedom of movement I guess…
Anyways, I have to depart Namibia, and then arrive into Botswana. The Namibian side is slightly chaotic. There are people I’m supposed to talk to, and forms I’m supposed to fill in, but the people won’t talk to me, and I don’t know which forms I’m supposed to complete. I ask the immigration dude, and he points me to the customs dude. I ask the customs dude, and guess what! He points me at the immigration dude. I make to walk out, at which point they both get quite excited, and insist I speak to them, and complete forms. TIA.
Now, it’s the Botswana side that might be tricky. I drive through the section of no man’s land between the two countries, and pull up at the border crossing behind a long queue of trucks. I sigh, kick back the seat and turn the A/C up to max. I’m stunned when a border guard knocks on the window to tell me that I can skip round the trucks. Normally, that kind of crucial insight is provided when you’ve already been waiting two hours, and are basically at the front of the queue anyway. I scamper round the queue, park up, and enter the arrival office. An actually helpful immigration person asks me all of two questions (what’s yer name and where d’ya come from, but a VERY different accent to Cilla’s), before stamping my passport, and pointing me to the customs dude sat next to her. He looks at my passport, then at his immigration colleague. She gives him a knowing nod, and he gives my passport back. That’s it. They don’t even ask me if I’m transporting meat, or FMD, or Ebola. I’m through the Botswana crossing in less than 5 minutes.
From the border crossing, there’s nowhere to go but into Chobe National Park, one of the richest and most diverse ecosystems in Africa. There’s a tarmac road running through the middle of the park, and gravel paths either side to disappear into the bush. I’m just aiming for Kasane, my home for the next 3 nights, so stick to the tarmac road. Other than a herd of perhaps 20 elephant that pad across the road in front of me, I’m not looking for game. I’m planning a several hour game drive late this afternoon.
I arrive into Kasane around 11:30, and declare myself to my accommodation, on the off-chance my room is already available. It is. It is huge. I’ve lived in houses with smaller square meterage. It is so big that it has not one, but two air-conditioners, both of which are set to high in anticipation of my arrival. There is a bath upstairs, part of the mezzanine bedroom, and not one, but two showers downstairs in, well - the living room, basically. There is a piano, but unless I have several too many Savanna, it’s probably safe…
I head out for some lunch. There aren’t a ton of great looking restaurants in Kasane, but a few to keep me interested over the next 3 days. I plop myself down at Di Kubu. It has a beautiful view over the river, super cold Savanna, and an interesting menu. I ask the waitress what she recommends for someone that’s never been to Botswana before, and she recommends…. a pizza. It’s a nice pizza. It includes something called Seswa, which is a local beef dish. I’m not sure it necessarily represents the very best of what Botswana has to offer though. I’m gonna eat at my hotel tonight. Hopefully they can give me a bit more of a local eating experience.
It is once again, crazy hot. The truck reckons 38C. I grab a few supplies, and DISASTER. There is no Savanna. I have to make do with Hunter’s Dry, which is an acceptable alternative, but really not quite as beloved.
Back at Rustiek, I decide the pool is gonna save me from the ridiculous heat, and briefly - it does. Wonder if I have time for a nap before game drive….
22:00
Decided against nap, as I wanted to get out in decent time for a game drive this afternoon. People have asked me whether 9-10 days of safari gets too much, whether I get bored of it. My game drive this evening is a perfect example of why I don’t. The terrain and ecosystem in Chobe are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. This is the beginnings of a huge river delta system, and the juxtaposition of land and water, supporting huge amounts of wildlife is staggering. There’s a sand road that runs along the waterside. I spend some time with a herd of elephant, a family of giraffe, MANY hippos who are out of the water grazing, and some crocodiles. I’ve seen many of these same animals already on this trip, but seeing them here, in this ecosystem that is new to me is as exciting for me as seeing them for the first time. Not a sniff of any predators this evening, but I’m up in decent time for a morning drive tomorrow, when I’ll hope to have more luck.
I’m back at the lodge by 18:30, and can’t really figure out why I said I’d have dinner at 20:00. Perhaps I thought a later dinner would mean I’d stay up a little later, and thus sleep a little later? Anyways, my nap-forward brain tells me that 90 minutes is PLENTY of time for a nap before dinner, so I curl up on the sofa, and quickly fall into a dreamless sleep.
Dinner is nearly superfluous to need. I had breakfast AND lunch today, so I go for a Greek salad for dinner. It’s good - some really good feta, and tasty salad leaves. I’m a little less convinced by the chunks of lemon that are nestling in the bottom of the bowl. Not lemon zest, actual lumps of lemon. I assiduously avoid these, but why? WHY? It irks me all the way up until I sleep.Read more
Day 16 - Maybe, maybe not.
October 10 in Namibia ⋅ ⛅ 34 °C
16:30
Despite the lovely cool room, and the lovely comfy bed, I’m still awake at 04:30, and I’m getting a bit bored of it. I was gonna try and sleep through till 08:00, but since I’m up, I might as well join the morning game drive - my first guided/organised game drive of the trip. It’s a very different experience to self-drive. When I’m on my own, I can spend as long as I want; I can inch the truck back and forth to get the perfect angle for a photo; I can head back to the lodge whenever I’m ready. My colleagues on the game drive today are all German. I say hi, and get a pretty frosty response. They all speak English really well, as I hear them talking to the driver, John, who doesn’t speak German. The upside of an organised/guided game drive is that the guides have eyes of the hawk. They are going to spot stuff that I just wouldn’t on my own.
About 2 minutes after we leave the lodge, LEOPARD! To me, a leopard spot is the pinnacle. I think it’s because when I was first lucky enough to visit Kenya, there just weren’t many leopard around. I didn’t see one on my first 2-3 safari trips. It was only when I went to South Africa and visited Kruger National Park that I saw one in the wild, and then it was a cub snoozing in a tree. Seeing an adult slinking through the brushy bush gives me the fizz in the best possible way. This creature is just SO beautiful. The markings, the movement, the facial structure. I’m spellbound. Unfortunately, the loud fucking Germans scare it away. Eejits.
The next hour or so is pretty fruitless. We’re in Mudumu National Park. The terrain here is very different to Etosha. In Mudumu, it’s heavy bush and brush, and it makes spotting game that much more difficult. The plains of Etosha are more a test of eyesight, here you need real skills to spot animals moving through the brush - skills I don’t have nearly enough of, compared to John. We spot a few impala, a couple of zebra. We do come across an eland, which is an all too rare sight. These antelopes are HUGE. They compete with moose for the title of world’s largest antelope. Big bulls can weigh A TON. This one’s a female, and scampers away when she hears the Germans chatting away.
We spot some elephant, but from a distance. They’re cowering under a tree. It is HOT this morning. We’ve been out on the road for nearly 3 hours already, and the sun is starting to prickle my legs. We FINALLY get back to the lodge at 10:15, fully 45 minutes later than advertised. Now, my plan had been to extend my stay here another night. Lianshulu is just such a lovely place to hang out and spend time. As a result, last night I booked the last remaining room for tonight. Over breakfast, I’m told that the room was listed as available in error, and I need to move on. TIA.
Not to be defeated, I make plans to stay at a very cool looking B+B in Katima Mulilo, about 60km from the Botswana border, which I will cross tomorrow. It’s a quick drive over to Katima, maybe 2 hours. Vicki and I comment how it’s crazy that a ‘quick drive’ is one that in the UK we would approach with caution.
Arriving into Katima, it feels a little like a frontier town, which I suppose it is. Checked into my B+B, I head out to forage for food. Stefan (B+B owner) has recommended a little restaurant/bar not far from the property. It’s air-conditioned, has Savanna, and is showing the Arsenal/Leeds game. A group of very excitable locals are watching the game. One, who seems desperate for Arsenal to win, is wearing a Liverpool shirt, because of course he is. I have fried hake and chips, which is delicious, and a couple of super cold Savanna. Back at my room, I can feel the early waking catching up with me, and get my head down for some nap.
22:30
There are strict rules about what you can take over the Botswana border. Strictly no meat, dairy, vegetables. As a result, dinner is a room picnic to use some of my leftover stocks. Some cheese, some salami, and a half decent loaf of bread; the remainder of a bottle of red that’s been kicking around the truck for a few days. Very civilised. I have exactly the kind of afternoon/evening I wanted and needed - total relaxation. My eyes start to droop by 21:30, and I’m looking forward to a decent sleep.Read more
Day 15 - Kwando es la hora de cerveza?
October 9 in Namibia ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C
16:50
We have much upon which to catch. Firstly, my long and successful sleep was neither. I woke up in a strop and tizz from a weird dream about 04:15, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I won’t bore you with the details, but Vicki may - if you ask her nicely… Anyways, I decide a morning of chill is in my future. I sit outside on the deck, listening to the world awaken with the dawn. Hippos make the most brilliant noise. It’s a deep, womp womp womp womp. It is LOUD. I love the sound as I fall asleep, I love it as I wake up. It’s a deeply comforting noise.
I have a couple of coffees, I tidy and get packed, aaaaaaaand it’s still only 06:00. Today could feel a bit of a slog. I read in the hammock a while, and have the vaguest hope that I might drop off for a nap, but those couple of coffees are halting progress in that direction.
Around 08:00, I get the truck packed up, check out of Ngepi, and get on the road. I’m sad to be leaving Ngepi. If I return to Namibia, and particularly this part of it, I’ll be sure to roots down here for a few days. I stop in Divundu for some fuel, and to get my tyre pressures checked. I’ve a sneaking suspicion my rear-left tyre has a very slow puncture, but it’s holding up to around 2 bar reasonably well. I grab some braai groceries as well, as I’ve a few nights of fireside cooking to come.
The drive is 200km of not very much. This whole strip of Namibia, previously called Caprivi after German Chancellor Leo Von Caprivi, and renamed more recently the Zambezi strip, is essentially all national park, with a spine of paved road running all the way through it. As a result, the drives down that spine are pretty featureless - all the action is happening a few hundred metres either side of the road.
Around midday, I pull into Kwando Bush Camp, a campsite on the banks of the Kwando River. It’s really well equipped - a lapa for cooking and hanging out, and a very well set-up bathroom type situation. It’s RIGHT on the river bank, and I’m told there’s a significant chance of some wildlife padding through the campsite at some point.
I head out for an afternoon game drive to the nearby Kwando national park. It’s some of the toughest driving I’ve encountered so far. It’s super soft and super fine sand. I immediately engage the low range 4x4 mode, and lock the rear differential. I feel a little more confident, but am still slipping and sliding all over the place. At one point, I have to pass another truck, and nearly career into the dude. I’m spending so much time watching the track that I’m barely looking out for wildlife. I do see some waterbuck down by the a river, but that’s about it. You can always spot a waterbuck, as their bum looks very much like they’ve just sat on a toilet seat that’s recently been painted white. About 30 minutes in, I start to feel a little queasy. I decide I could do with lie-down, and head back to camp.
When I get there, I start unpacking my tent. It’s 38C today, and I’m struggling. I think about having a cold shower to cool me down to get the tent up, then reason that:
1) This is ridiculous, and
2) Even if I get the tent up, it’s gonna be fucking volcanic in there for a good few hours.
I ponder for a while, and decide to look for alternative lodgings. Just not sure I can face tenting tonight.
There’s a lodge about 35km down the road that looks fab, and is half priced for tonight, I assume as they haven’t sold all their rooms. I’ll take it. I smash down the road, and arrive around 15:30. There’s a short amount of confusion, as I booked via booking.com, and the confirmation hasn’t arrived from them yet. It all gets sorted soon enough. Meanwhile, I sit on the incredible verandah, overlooking the waterhole on the Kwando, and chatting to a family of elephant.
At 16:00, my room is ready, and my new best friend, Moses, walks me over. At night, I’ll be escorted by a night guard, because animals. The room is gorgeous. A deck overlooking the waterhole, a beautiful big bed, a powerful a/c unit, and a massive rainfall shower. Yes please. I settle in for a chill and chill. Dinner at 19:30. Maybe a nap….
21:30
I doze, rather than sleep. I have the world’s best shower. I don a shirt, an actual shirt, for dinner. That’s how smart this place is. Dinner itself is a treat - the highlight being a roasted fillet of beef, served with a smoked potato mash, an excellent red wine and juniper sauce, and some roasted vegetables. I’m beyond tired, and head back to my room a little before 21:00. The night-guard thing - I gently rib the dude with the torch while we’re walking back - along the ‘what’s the worst that could happen’ line. I’m doubtful right up to the point where we come face-to-face with a hippo, which is a bit of a surprise. Thankfully, it’s got a clear route back to the water, and we chase it off using the power of torch. It does a less than graceful belly-flop into the water, and all is well with the world again. I will no longer take the piss about the night-guard.Read more
Day 14 - Mahango Daiquiri
October 8 in Namibia ⋅ ⛅ 35 °C
14:30
I sleep well. despite waking a few times during the night thinking something alive is inside the mossie net with me. The net is a bit shit. Whichever way I pull it, it won’t completely enclose me. As a result, I’m hyper-alert to anything close by. I wake at least three times in a bit of paddy, thinking something’s about to nibble on my nethers.
I wake for the last time at 06:15, feeling like I’ve rested well. I spring up (sort of) to make coffee. I’m *hopefully* going on a morning game drive at 07:30, but it does depend whether anyone else has signed up for it. I pitch up at the reception area at 07:15, and it transpires that no, no-one else wants to go. As a result, I head off on a self-drive game drive to the same park - Mahango. It’s small - only 244 km2, but apparently teeming with wildlife. The next 5 hours are deeply joyful. I spend almost an hour with a huge herd of elephant, watching the social interactions of these beautiful creatures. A few times, I have to start the truck to reverse backwards to keep out of their way. It’s a sensational way to spend time. I also get my first spot of a cape buffalo, albeit at quite a distance. Oh, and some warthog! These grumpy little cousins of the pig are always great fun to hang around with.
I’m back at Ngepi around 12:30, and am more than ready for an ice cold Savanna. So I have 3. The feel of the camp is so cool. Everyone is on exactly the right kind of go-slow. I ease into a comfy chair, and read my book a while.
I’m also VERY hungry, and a ham + cheese toastie sees me right. The food and Savanna combo makes me think of a nap. So….
19:00
Had a turbo-luxe nap in the hammock. It is HOT today. At one point in the truck, the temperature reads 42C. WAY too hot to be inside my hut, but on the riverdeck, there’s a gentle breeze that makes nap feasible. I doze for maybe 45 minutes. I spend some time catching up with folks at home, journalling - you know, all the super critical afternoon activities. I catch up with my good friend Sander at the bar, and he tells me to sack off the river cruise, and to head up to Bwabwata instead. I mentioned to him seeing these great plains across the river from Mahango earlier, and apparently that’s Bwabwata. I spend a wonderful 90 minutes cruising around the park. I don’t actually see much wildlife, but I’m struck by just how enjoyable I find the experience of driving through the African bush. The wildlife I see is a bonus, but it’s not critical to my enjoyment of the time.
I can’t entirely remember whether dinner at Ngepi is at 19:00 or 19:30 - so assume it’s the earlier. As I drive out of the park, I look over the river, and realise that my hut is visible on the far bank of the Cubango River.
Back at Ngepi, it’s sundowner time. A super cold Savanna is my friend. I settle into a comfy seat with a pre-prandial, and to read some book.
21:30
Dinner was lovely. Some sort of chicken stew, hot with chilli and black pepper. Served with a simple pilaf rice and some roasted vegetables. Yum. The set dinner menu comes with a dessert - something new to me, called Malva Pudding. It’s sort of a steamed sponge pudding, flavoured with cinnamon and apricots. Super tasty.
I briefly consider a post-prandial, but I’m tired. I have a brief read in my hammock, before turning in for hopefully a long and successful sleep.Read more
Day 13 - This place is WILD.
October 7 in Namibia ⋅ ⛅ 30 °C
12:45
I have a great sleep. Just over 8 hours and pretty much uninterrupted. More of that please. My plan (vague as it is) is to get moving this morning, and get over to Divundu by midday. Stop for some groceries and lunch, then meander down to Ngepi Camp, my home for the next two nights.
Phase one goes well, and I arrive into Divundu around 11:30. The drive has been a little dull. A very long and straight road, with few distinguishing sights by the roadside. I’ve cruised along at a pretty decent clip. Grocery shopping is successfully completed, but my lunch plans are scuppered, when it transpires the café I was aiming for is no longer there. I push on to Ngepi, which is only another 20 minutes down the road, and reason that I can feed there instead. The last 4km of the road are really a dirt track that leads to the middle of nowhere. I see glimpses of a river, nearly get stuck in sand a couple of times, and have a sense of detaching from reality.
Ngepi is a beautiful place. I’m trying to think of where it reminds me of, and it’s Ordo Sounsar - a temporary beach camp I stayed at a few times in my early visits to Goa. It’s got the same super laid-back, sand in my toes kinda vibe. The staff are super friendly. I’m a little early to check-in, but grab a Savanna and a better than decent game burger. I sit one of the several decks overlooking the river. I can see some hippo on the other side of the river. To my left is the swimming pool, which is a cage in the river, so that one can swim with the hippos and crocs without actually being killed by them. I definitely want to see someone else successfully swim in it before I’ll dive in - so to speak.
17:30
This place is WILD. I’m in a tree-house. Not the up in a tree variety, but an open air hut type thing built out of tree, and around several trees. It has some bamboo doors, a sort of thatched roof, a wooden deck that hangs over the river with a few different seating options, including a hammock and some bean-bags. The shower, such as it is, is in the middle of the room. As I’m exploring, I notice there’s a crocodile in the river. About 5m from me. I’m up on a raised platform, so not in immediate peril, but Vicki makes a good point that I should probably NOT nap in the hammock… I’m pretty sure my description isn’t gonna do it justice, so I’ll record a walk-around video to help bring it to life…
It’s incredibly peaceful, and I’ve already decided to have a day of chill today, before some organised activities tomorrow. I stretch out on my bed to read, and drift off into a deep, dream filled sleep. I wake up after maybe 90 minutes. Super deluxe. I’ve got some braai supplies to use up this evening, but no braai. Happily, there’s a small kitchen involved in the room.
At first, I think the set-up is the same as last night, with Namibia on one side of the river, and Angola the other. Turns out I’m wrong. The river has meandered South, further from the Angolan border. Oh, and the river has changed name. Down by Rundu, it was the Kavango. Here, it’s called the Cubango. Further down in Botswana, it’s the Okavango. All the same river, just variations on the name.
21:30
Dinner is a delightful protein-fest. Some marinated chicken breast - hot with pepper and chilli, and some Chakalaka Boerewors. Chakalaka is a spicy vegetable stew/relish, native to South Africa, and a super tasty accompaniment to braai food. Here’s it’s been mixed through the spiced beef used in the Boerewors, giving the sausage an extra dimension of flavour. YUM.
It’s been a proper scorcher today, and there’s much less breeze than previous days. Don’t know if that’s because my treehouse is a little sheltered, or just because - but it’s made it extra sweaty. I have a series of very brief, but very cold showers throughout the afternoon and evening to regulate my temperature. I would go up the reception area where the pool is, but it’s 500m away, and I honestly can’t be arsed. So - cold shower instead!
I settle into the hammock, and read my book for a while. Around 21:00, my eyes start to feel tired. No - let’s amp that up a bit. Around 21:00, I find myself close to falling asleep in the ultra comfy hammock, and decide bed’s for the best. Early (ish) alarm clock tomorrow!Read more
Day 12 - Up a bit. Right a bit. Quite a bit.
October 6 in Namibia ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C
06:15
I’m asleep well before 22:00, and sleep through until 04:30. I wake up needing a pee, but realise that’s not what’s woken me. There are some fairly feral wild animal sounds somewhere nearby. Now - Namutoni is a fenced camp, so I’m *fairly* confident they’re the other side of the fence in the park, but I can’t be entirely sure of that. I try to get back to sleep, but I’m far too awake. I womble over to the ablution block, and find one of the bins tipped over. Hmmm… It transpires it’s largely my rubbish that’s been ripped through. I had some bacon that’s been open for a week that I put into a rubbish bag. The packet (sans bacon) is on the grass by the tipped over been. I sheepishly tidy up the rubbish and the bin. I don’t think anyone else has noticed, but it does make me wonder whether the animal noises and bin situation are related. The noises sound to me like hyenas, scavengers that they are…
I do my usual dance of trying to make a coffee silently, and am getting better at it. Fewer clangs of metal on metal, and i’m more attuned to when the kettle is about to start whistling loudly. LONG drive today. Nearly 500km, and probably 7-8 hours in the truck. Couple of towns to stop in along the way, but it’s mainly an A to B sprint. I think much of it will be on paved roads. Hope so, at any rate…
15:30
Yeah - LONG drive. Topped out at just over 500km, and a shade past 7 hours. I stopped briefly in Tsumeb for groceries, fuel and cash. Really cool little farmshop with a whole range of different Boerewors. One I’m pretty sure is made with fresh beef liver. One, I’m really sure what it is, so jot down the name to check later.
The roads are long, straight - and honestly, pretty dull. The scenery doesn’t change much along the way, at least until I get close to Rundu, the second biggest city in Namibia. Along the side of the road are - not villages, homesteads I guess? Basic wooden structures, occasionally a corrugated iron structure of some description. It’s kicking out time at school as I’m driving through, and hundreds of kids line the road waving at me. They all look so joyful. I spend a delightful 20 minutes cruising along the road and waving back. I do my best not to wave as I imagine the Queen would have.
Another beautiful room, this time at Kaisosi River Lodge. The Kavango river runs right past my balcony on its way down to the delta, and on the other side of the river is Angola! Apparently you *can* swim to the other side, but you’d need to make very good friends with the crocodiles first - so, I’ll pass.
21:30
Snake! The sausage I saw earlier that looked super strange is made of snake. The name I jotted down was pofadder, which turns out to be the Dutch name for a puff adder. I’ve eaten snake before, but not in sausage form. I’ve dodged a bullet.
I decide to join the sundowner river cruise. I’m very conscious that:
1) I’m now in the wetlands in the North of Namibia, the focal hotspot for malaria, and
2) My anti-malaria medication renders me very prone to sunburn
I’ve taken Doxycycline before for malaria prevention, but back when I tended to be more tanned. I avoid the sun as much as possible these days, so am super aware that my alabaster white skin may get a kicking. Now, it’s often said that the best way to avoid malaria is not to get bitten in the first place. Seems legit. This leaves me with a dilemma - should I plaster myself in sunscreen, because burn? Or should I plaster myself in bug juice, because bugs? It’s sunset, so the sun should be much weaker. Ergo - bug juice. I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me, so to speak.
The cruise is wonderful. We gently putter down the river. I note a distinct difference between the Namibian and Angolan sides of the river. In Angola, there are families enjoying bathing time. There are some kids just splashing around and having fun. There are some folks fishing. Have they not been given the same crocodile warning as I have? Should I shout to them to let them know?! I ask Melissa, who works at Kaisosi Lodge why such a difference. She says, “People are willing to take their own risks.” Wow. I sense intrigue.
The sunset is doing beautiful sun-setty things in the distance. Oooh, there’s a baby crocodile! When they’re only 60cm long, they actually look pretty sweet. About 20m down the river, we meet Mum, who looks anything but. Maybe 4m long? She has a malevolence about her. I’ve commented on this before, and specifically the difference between alligators and crocodiles. It comes down to the teeth. On an alligator, when the mouth is closed, the teeth are hidden from view. On a croc, they are not. Alligators = cute and cuddly, crocs = mean and dangerous. Fact.
We also encounter a hippo, who seems to want to get on land, but there’s a boat in his way. At one point, he looks like he’s going to hump it. He gives up eventually - on both the dry land, AND the boat. As we approach Kaisosi, some kids on the Angolan shore start throwing stones at the boat. One of them nearly hits (but doesn't hit) one of the passengers. There is something approaching a hoo-ha. I ask Melissa whether:
1) They don't like white people
2) They don't like Namibian people, or
3) They're bored, and just wanna fuck shit up
She reckons it's a combo of 2 and 3. There's some animosity between the people of either side of the river, which I find saddening, but also completely predictable.
Back at Kaisosi, it’s dinner time. There’s a Bobotie on the menu, so I order it. Bobotie is kissing cousins with Cottage Pie and Moussaka. In Bobotie, beef or lamb mince is curried, and topped with a gently spiced egg custard. It’s banging. My v cool waiter, Henry, brings me a bottle of Namibian chilli sauce. He has a glint in his eye that means yes, of course I must try it. Fuck me - it’s volcanic. I ask him how it’s made - and it’s basically roasted and puréed chilli, salt and vinegar. Wow. It’s super tasty, for about 3 seconds - then the chilli heat kicks in. My Bobotie is delicious, and I’m really pleased to have had something a bit different for dinner. I’m back on the braai tomorrow night, so am taking advantage of it while I can.
I’m planning an uber sleep tonight. I’ve only got 3 hours on the road tomorrow to get to Ngepi, which I’ve been SO looking forward to. Means I don’t need to get going till maybe 11:00, so a lie-in is both deserved and called for. LET’S GO!Read more
Day 11 - Animals! Everywhere!
October 5 in Namibia ⋅ ☀️ 31 °C
12:00
What a morning! I wake up after not quite enough sleep, but feeling fairly well rested. I want to get out into the park as early as possible this morning, as I’ve read the drive from Okaukuejo to Namutoni is both long, and amongst the best game viewing that Etosha has to offer. I decide to forego breakfast, but have a quick coffee to help blast the cobwebs from the corner of my eyes. I’m on the road and into the park dead on 06:30.
The first hour is pretty much a blank scorecard. Couple of small antelope and some birding. There’s a low lying mist this morning. The car reckons the outside temperature is as low as 9C. This, combined with the sun just rising straight in front of me makes it impossible to see any real distance out in front. I round a corner, and find a truck parked up in front of me. I slam the brakes on (as much as you ever can from 35km/h) and see the brush on the left hand side of the road shaking. Out walks a rhino - of the black variety, and I believe the South-Western species. I don’t want to get too close, so snap a quick pic through the windscreen in the hope it’ll come out well. By the time I’ve manoeuvred the truck to get a better angle, he’s into the brush on the other side of the road, and I mainly succeed in taking photos of his ass. Still, I spend a blissful 10 minutes just hanging out with this magnificent creature.
I spend some time with some Toucans (play that game), and a giraffe family that includes the smallest infant I’ve seen on this trip. Teeny weeny, and yet still over 8ft tall.
Next, I take a drive along the edge of the Etosha Pan, giant salt pans in the North of the park. Etosha is huge - bigger than Wales, and I’m crossing from one side of it to the other over 3 days. Turning away from the salt pans, I’m approaching the plains. I can see several trucks parked by the roadside, maybe 400m down the road from me, and I cruise up behind them. Lion! I’ve not had the best luck with lion spotting in the past. Vicki and I spent a frankly dull 90 minutes about 10m from two large males sleeping off a feed, on our last visit to South Africa. In Kenya, I spent 30 minutes watching a pride eat their recent kill. I’ve never really seen lion on the move though - until today. There’s a male sitting a little distance away from a couple of females, and I *think* a couple of cubs. He’s a magnificent looking creature, and is perhaps 10m away from where I’m parked. One of the females pads across the road in front of me. The other female follows, with the two cubs in tow. They look to be maybe 6 months old, and have definitely shaken off that very youngest of skitty kitten characters, but are still small enough that I’d like to pack one up and take it home with me to play with Scout and Gizmo. The male, when he stands, I can see is quite an old chap, and not particularly well nourished. I mean - he could probs still take me in a fight.
A few clicks further down the road, I encounter the biggest herd of zebra I think I’ve ever seen. The Masai Mara was covered with the things, but this is a single group of perhaps 100. I then stumble across an elephant - a big bull, I suspect in musth (on heat), and therefore best not fucked around with. I then spot ANOTHER rhino! This one is one of the white species. He’s a long way off, but the longer horn and paler hide are both clearly visible. Not convinced the few pics I snap will be any good though.
Finally, as I draw close to Namutoni Camp, a cheetah! These are my favourite of the big cats - they’re just so beautiful, and incredibly graceful IMO. They’re also pretty damn rare in Etosha, so I’m incredibly lucky to have seen this one.
Honestly, couldn’t have asked for a better morning’s game spotting. As I arrive into Namutoni, I’m ready for a feed, and for more than one celebratory Savannas.
21:00
I grab an early lunch, as I’m peckish after a no-breakfast morning. Something called ‘Russian and chips.’ A Russian transpires to be a smoked pork sausage. Think bratwurst or kielbasa, and you’re in the right neighbourhood. It’s 14:00, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. Don’t fancy lying by the pool, don’t wanna sit in the bar and get boozy, and definitely don’t wanna sit around the campsite in the sunshine getting super hot. I decide to head back out into the park, and spend a delightful couple of hours meandering around the eastern side of the park The game viewing isn’t a patch on this morning, but nothing could be. I do spot another cheetah, a couple of elephants, tons of antelope, zebra and giraffe.
Back at the camp site, it’s still hot, but I want to get my camp set up before it’s dark. My cunning plans to keep the waterproof sheet attached have been moderately successful. I need to do a little adjustment after it unfurls, and I end up jumping up on the bonnet of the truck to ensure a good fit. Several other campsites are, I believe, watching me in my trials, and distinctly NOT offering to help - the wankers.
I do make it to the pool in the end, but just for a little paddle, while the sun sets behind me.
As I’m leaving the park tomorrow, I have to ensure that any raw meat is cooked. Not sure why, but part of the park’s policies and practices. You can bring raw meat in, but you can’t take it out. You can’t buy raw meat in the park. Anyways, I have a braai pack, and about a metre of Boerewors that’s not gonna eat itself. My plan is to cook all of it, but chuck the leftover Boerewors in the fridge to have a Boerewors Brotchen for breakfast/lunch/a road snack tomorrow. The steak is the best bit of beef I’ve had so far on my trip. Properly tasty, properly tender. There’s a lamb shish kebab in the braai pack which is awesome. Not sure what it’s been flavoured with - sort of North African type flavours. Very tasty.
After dinner, I settle in for some journalling, and some more Castle Rock, which is proving to be utterly bonkers, and fairly fucked up. Joy!Read more
Day 10 - A Giant, Swinging Cock
October 4 in Namibia ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C
06:00
I sleep pretty well. Read for maybe an hour last night, and was asleep by 22:00. I wake up at 05:00. Well, I wake up a couple of times through the night. Once to pee (Travel Johns = AMAZING for tenting), and once because my tent sounds like it’s flapping in the wind a little. A cursory check suggests it’s just a bit breezy, and my less than perfect top sheet solution isn’t quite as taut as it should be. It will do. I manage to get back off to sleep though, and wake naturally at 05:00.
I spend 30 minutes chilling in bed. Chilling is the right word. It is COLD. Even with the extra layer on the tent, I’m properly frosty this morning. Must remember to take my microfibre fleece to bed with me. Where I would normally have a read through my phone and catch up on social media, I can’t. The signal here is non-existent. The power at Olifantsrus is solar, and the WiFi relies on it. It’ll fire back up around 08:00 or thereabouts. It’s a pretty shaky WiFi connection at that - not nearly sufficient to post my t-log and photos from the past couple of days.
I pop the kettle on, and have a more thorough examination of the tent. It’s looking remarkably how I left it last night. I reckon there’s a couple of places I could use some rope to tighten it up a bit, but I’m pleased with my first effort. The sun’s just starting to nibble at the horizon. Off to watch sunrise from the waterhole…
11:30
No I’m not. Waterhole entrance is closed - presumably so dickheads don’t throw themselves out into the park. I’m out of Olifantsrus and into the park by 06:30. The first hour is pretty dull. A couple of antelope spots. From there, things warm up. Some zebra and more antelope around a big waterhole, some beautiful birds, my first kudu of the trip, and a MASSIVE herd of elephant. There are vehicles far too close to the herd IMO. There are at least 4 infants amongst the population, and that will make the matriarchs very antsy. As they cross the road, a BIG mama squares up to a jeep, the driver of which seems to give no fucks. I was taught (by someone who should know) that 10m is the minimum distance you should EVER give an elephant. If they take a disliking to you, you are DONE. Your vehicle will be wrecked or knocked over instantly. You’ll be lucky to get out alive. Happily, she feints a couple of charges, but doesn’t follow through, so we avoid an international incident.
The distance from Olifantsrus to Okaukuejo is 130km, and it takes me fully 4.5 hours to travel between the two. It’s heating up rapidly. I stop in at reception on the off-chance that my room is ready for me, but am told 14:00. I have a bit of a mooch to get my bearings, stare longingly at the pool, and grab a Savanna to keep me occupied.
13:30
My Savanna reminds me that there is a trading post I’d planned to visit, maybe 30km from Okaukuejo, and a quick trip there could help pass the couple of hours until my room is available. It’s a paved road all the way, and I’m there in 20 minutes. I reason it would be rude not to sit in the shade with a Savanna. Inside, there’s a fab looking / smelling bakery, a decent selection of wines, and a freezer full of decent sounding meat. I fill my proverbial boots and literal basket. The steak particularly looks a cut above the supermarket meat I’ve largely had so far, but time will tell. I cruise back to Okaukuejo, and reason that I should probably eat something. There’s a restaurant at my lodge that looks chaotic. Perhaps a Savanna first to grease the skids…
21:00
I’ve had a brilliant afternoon and evening. The restaurant onsite is chaos. Beautiful, brutal chaos. Happily, I’m not in a rush, as many others seem to be, so the chaotic nature of service doesn’t ruffle me. Post prandial, I grab my key, and check out my room. V cool. Ooh, A/C! And a big double bed. Hmmm, nap….
My nap is luxurious, and I realise how much I’ve missed the ability to nap because tenting. I wake up around 17:00, and reason that I should have a shower, because I don’t think I’ve had one in about 4 days.
Suitably freshened, I pack up a bottle of wine and head down to the waterhole. Back at the trading post earlier, I noticed a bottle of wine that looked familiar. It’s called Optima, and is a Bordeaux blend made in South Africa. My good friend Eon took Vicki and me there on our wine tour a couple of years ago. Beautiful Cape Dutch farmhouse, and we drank their wines at a table overlooking their stunning gardens. It’s premium stuff, so I was surprised to see it in the boondocks. I asked the store owner how he came to have it, and he said it was delivered accidentally. He’s been trying to get rid of it for the past year, hence it’s low price of $150 (about £7.25). This bottle joins me for sundowners.
As I arrive at the waterhole, so does an elephant. Mesmerising. Shortly afterwards, a big herd of the buggers arrives. They stay for perhaps 45 minutes, and I gain an incredible insight into the family dynamics of these wonderful creatures. Infants are often tended to by older siblings. Mum and Dad secure the waterhole, then make sure the kids have a drink before they do. Shortly after this, Mum and Dad get frisky. Hilariously, as Dad’s giant, swinging cock is trying to, um - find the fairway - their youngest dives in and wraps his teeny truck around Dad’s todger, which rather dampens the mood. I’m spellbound watching these interactions, which are unlike any I’ve ever seen between elephant.
A few other animals visit the waterhole as the sun sets behind them. Some impala, a few wildebeest, and a family of giraffe. The sun’s well below the horizon now, and my camera is struggling to keep up. I head to the main lapa for my dinner reservation.
Dinner is slightly less chaotic, but not by much. Many of my fellow diners are harrumphing in their frustration. I just sit and read my book with a glass of wine - after all, TIA.
Some food eventually arrives, and it’s pretty good. Beef steak (though no one could tell me what cut). It’s tasty, and more tender than some of the supermarket cuts I’ve eaten in the past week. The wine is really good - a South African Pinotage. So good, in fact, that I decide I deserve another glass. The mossies are starting to bite a little, so I take my second glass back to my room for some chill time…Read more
Day 9 - The Olifants are Coming!
October 3 in Namibia ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C
04:30
“Why so early?” I hear absolutely none of you cry. Do you remember a couple of days my waterproof top-sheet blew off? And I said I’d get around to reattaching it? Well, I haven’t. Mowani was my first night tenting for a few days. I reasoned that as I’d seen not a spit of rain, I didn’t really need it. There are still two layers of canvas between me and the elements, and one less layer would help aerate and cool the tent more effectively. Well, fuck me if it there isn’t a thunderstorm at 04:00. Pretty sure one of the thunderclaps is what woke me, but the pops of light are very noticeable - even inside the tent. I cross my fingers in the hope that it’s just light and sound, but no - the sound of fat rain drops is not far behind. I leap up (or whatever the middle aged, arthritic version is), and quickly fold the tent over. By the time I’ve done this, the thunderstorm has largely passed. There are a few forks of lightning to the North of me, but the cloud is drifting away. Of COURSE it is… I make a coffee, as quietly as I can. Every noise sounds very loud to me, but probably isn’t. When the kettle starts its whistling, I sprint to take it off the heat, and nearly trip over several things. Hmmmph. On the up side, today’s is my longest day of driving - perhaps as many as 7 hours on the road. Won’t be the worst thing in the world to get an early start…
15:15
7 hours was pretty much spot on - much of it fairly slow going. It’s a bumpy gravel road as far as Kamanjab, the last town of any size before Etosha. I can feel that I’m jaded. Not dangerously so, but enough that I slip into a cruise mode on several occasions. The scenery is beautiful. It feels like I’m chasing the lightning storm. It persists throughout the morning, but I never quite catch up to it. I top up with some fuel in Khorixas, which sounds more like qa Greek god than a Namibian town, and push on to Kamanjab. The promised supermarket there is not all that super. I’ve got plenty of groceries to keep me going for a few days, but would have liked to top up with some fresh veggies. I don’t *think* I’m gonna be able to get any fresh produce in Etosha, but I may be wrong….
From Kamanjab, it’s a paved road up to the Galton Gate of Etosha National Park. I settle into a fast cruise, and gaze out at the scenery as it whistles past. At Galton Gate, the truck is searched. This is the first for me on the way into an African national park. The dude is really quite thorough, and confiscates some rubbish sacks I bought a few days ago. He also warns me that whilst it’s ok to bring raw meat in, I must cook it before I leave the park, which is a bit odd.
It’s 60km to Olifantsrus, my overnight stop. I’m moving at a steady 30km/h, the better to spot wildlife along the way. Just minutes after entering the park, I come across a small herd of elephant - maybe 20 in total, including some adolescents. Majestic. A little further down the road, I meet some gorgeous giraffe. Then a beautiful ostrich, and then some wildebeest. A great return for what is usually a very poor time of day for game viewing. Sunrise and sunset are the preferred times, and I’m heading out later as it cools and starts to darken…
Olifantsrus is basic, but has everything I need. It’s slightly cooler today, and a stiffening breeze is coming in from the North East. I park up by a sun shade, and realise I’m starving. I can’t be arsed getting out the braai gear for a quick snack, but instead use my gas burner to cook up some bacon that’s been lurking in the fridge since Sunday. Couple of Brotchen, some bacon, some Mrs Ball’s Chutney. BOSH.
Once again I find myself wishing for a nap, but the tent would be far too hot at this time of day. I grab some WiFi at the reception area, and chill with my book for an hour…
20:30
I head back out at 15:30, heading towards the North West corner of the park. To the South, a huge electrical storm is kicking off. I definitely need to get the waterproof cover on before it poons down. This part of the park is more of an open savannah type deal. Ooh, maybe I should open a Savanna? Actually, can’t. Getting out of the vehicle is strictly verboten, and the only way to access the fridge is via the truck’s back door.
My drive spottings include elephant, wildebeest, oryx, Thompson’s gazelle and springbok. I run a 90km loop, and end up back at Olifantsrus just after 18:00. The sun is setting, and I *think* the electrical storm is going to pass to the West of us. Still, it’s time to tackle the waterproof top-sheet. It takes me around an hour of fairly challenging and sweaty work. I take several Savanna breaks along the way. Part of the challenge is that two small pieces of fabric tore when the wind blew the cover off, and they’re fairly critical to the overall structure. I’m pretty pleased with how it ends up, but will need to be super mindful of which way the wind is blowing for the rest of the trip.
I’m having a night off from the braai, and cook a simple tuna and pasta dish.The weight of it takes me down. It’s 20:30 and I’m gagging for sleep. Sweet dreams…. x xRead more
Day 8 - Shaking Something Loose
October 2 in Namibia ⋅ ☀️ 23 °C
12:30
I wake up not entirely sure how or when I went to bed. According to my fitness tracker ring, I was asleep at 22:20, and slept through till 07:15. When I arrived at my camp last night, I had a bottle of red wine, and about 4-5 Savanna in the fridge. Had a Savanna on arrival, and then some wine with my food. When I went back to the fridge, I discovered that a Savanna bottle had smashed. Not while I was stationary, obvs, but while I was on the super bumpy road up to the camp. My serpentine mind reasoned that ANY glass bottles left in the fridge would surely break, and that I must finish them to be on the safe side. So....
I have vague recollections of a rave around the fire. I had the campsite all to myself, so hooked up a Bluetooth speaker and banged it out. I don’t always love that I’m a digital DJ these days, but it does have its advantages.
My head this morning is a little fuzzy as a result of the late night activity. I decide that coffee and more coffee will be my breakfast. I’m packed up and on the road by 09:30. I *think* the journey today will be around 5 hours, but am anything but certain. What follows is two hours of the bumpiest and most brutal driving yet. The surface is treacherous - pockmarked and loose. I’m gradually learning though what my truck is capable of. One of the loud bangs as I drive over a barely visible rut convinces me that I must have blown a tyre, but no - all present and correct. I don’t want to tempt fate, but this surely must be the worst of the driving conditions…
Around halfway through the journey, I arrive into Uis (pronounced yoo-is), and a paved road! I suspect the tarmac will only last a few clicks either side of the town, but it’s a very welcome hiatus. Stopping into a café, I realise my coffee only breakfast has caught up with me. I’m ravenous. A cheese and tomato toastie, and a Savanna to smooth over the rough edges - that’ll do for me.
18:45
The drive from Uis up to Mowani is a good couple of hours, maybe more. It’s a fairly straightforward proposition. There are some slightly wobbly bits of road, but there are also long stretches that are much smoother. It’s perhaps due to my state of slight overhang, but I’m barely conscious of some of the lumps and bumps. A couple of times, the truck starts to slide, and I don’t tense up, or try to correct it. The scenery is beautiful, and I spend most of my time gazing out into it.
It is HOT today. Weather app reckons 36C, and the truck agrees. I’m cocooned in an A/C bubble, but every time I get out of the truck, I’m cooking. Arriving into Mowani at 15:30, it feels particularly brutal. Happily, the campsite has a small pool. I get checked in, have a quick explore of my pitch, and head straight back for some pool.
I’m always fascinated to understand who my co-tourists are. In Namibia, I would guess that 70-80% of them are German - not entirely surprising given Germany’s colonial occupation of Namibia for many years. The average age is also, ooh - I dunno, mid 30s? There are a couple of families, but most of the folks I’ve met are young, professional couples. The only Brits I’ve met were in my ballon basket. 6 of them travelling to celebrate one of their 40th birthdays. They were all terribly well spoken (and I should know), and when I asked where they met, was informed, “Eton.”
A couple of Savanna by the pool, and I’m verging on hungry. Other than my cheese and tomato toastie, I’ve only had some Mrs Ball’s Simba chips today, and I need feeding. I grabbed a braai pack from the bar earlier. Lamb apparently - a combo of a lamb steak, some lamb sosaties (not a million miles away from a kofta), and a lamb sausage. Time to get the fire lit.
21:30
Dinner was a treat! I suspect the ‘lamb’ is actually goat, but it’s very tasty. The lamb Boerewors type thing is the highlight, but the lamb belly strips and kebab are both great as well. The temperature has fallen dramatically since this afternoon. I suspect it may even feel a bit chilly overnight.
I’m clearly getting used to my camping set-up. From start to finish, it takes me about 4 minutes to have everything where I need it to be. Post dinner, I’m torn between reading and viewing. I end up opting for TV, and watch a couple of episodes of Platonic, on Apple TV. I belly laugh a few times. Given I’m only 50m away from the next camping pitch, I reason this might not be the coolest thing, so switch to something much more macabre - Castle Rock (Prime). It’s based around Stephen King’s fictional town of the same name, where several of his novels take place, and in the same universe as Shawshank Prison. Spooky and twisted stuff. Weird dreams ahoy!Read more
Day 7 - Sealing the Deal
October 1 in Namibia ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C
14:00
We need to talk to about chutney. Specifically, Mrs Ball’s Chutney. It shares more than a little DNA with HP Sauce - a sort of fruit and vinegar based condiment. Bit tart, bit sweet, totally lovely. This morning, it adorns my fried eggs on toast. Later, it might join my Boerewors, fresh from the braai. At some point today, I will almost certainly buy some Simba chips (crisps) flavoured with Mrs Ball’s Chutney - which are amazing by the way. Probably closest in flavour profile to Worcester Sauce crisps in the UK.
It’s a fairly damp and dank morning. Mist hovers over the desert dunes, and there’s a distinct nip in the air - a nip I thoroughly enjoy. Everyone else is dressed in long trousers, long sleeved tops, and in some cases a coat. I’m in shorts and a vest top, and smiling at the freshness.
I’m breakfasted and packed by 09:00, and have some time to plan out the rest of my day before I head off. I’ve around 300km and 4 hours on the road today, a cruise down the Skeleton Coast, and a visit to the seal colony at Cape Cross.
The Skeleton Coast - so called originally because of the whale bones that pitched up on shore when the whaling industry was in full flight. In more modern times, the meaning has shifted a little, to reference the many shipwrecks found up and down the coast as a result of offshore rocks and heavy fog. Prior to being called The Skeleton Coast, the local San People (NOTE - not the Tusken Raiders from Star Wars, though some of the scenery might suggest otherwise) called it, “The Land God Made in Anger.” Great pep talk.
At 10:00, I head into town to pick up some groceries for the next few days, and to have a mooch. I visit the jetty, which is a pier by any other name. Looking back at the town from the end of the jetty, and particularly in the cool and increasingly mizzly conditions, makes the town look a little sad. I stop by at the old railway station, which is a magnificent edifice, though it massively reminds me of the colonial post office in Saigon. On the way out of town, I stop for fuel (a still quite wallet threatening £140) and to check the oil and tyre pressures, and then grab some groceries at Checkers. I’ve got I think 3 nights before I hit another decent grocery stop, so need to stock up. Now, I think most of you that know me well know that I'm not a proud man, and that I'm more than willing to be self-deprecating when the need arises. Remember I bemoaned the cost of groceries a couple of days ago? Yeah - I'm an idiot. It transpires that I was shopping at Namibia's equivalent of the Whole Foods chain. Everything substantially expensive. At Checkers, my grocery bill is a much more wallet friendly experience. What a dickhead.
By 11:30, I’m on the road North to Cape Cross, home of a famous seal colony. I’ve been up close to sea-lions before (check out the 2022 Vegas/California trip if you haven’t already….) but never seals. I’ve loved watching them on documentaries - they seem to have an awesome balance of coolness, with an utter ineptitude until they’re in the water.
It’s a tarmac road, all the way to Cape Cross (or at least, so I’m told) so I head out at a decent 110km/h clip. The Skeleton coast is sparse. Most of the human activity seems to be people fishing. I barely pass another vehicle in 30 minutes. The drive North takes about 90 minutes.
As I pull up to the seal colony, I can hear the braying noise, even over the sound of the engine, and the music I have playing. When I open the door - fuck me, the smell is abrasive. I’ve a vague recollection I’ve read about this, but it hasn’t prepared for me the stench. It smells like Satan’s urinal - the odour of ammonia is pervasive. There’s another smell though - which makes me think of death. Rotting, putrid death. All too soon, I find out why.
Joyful as it is to see these wonderful animals up close, there’s a painfully blunt side to their existence. The first seal I spot on the sand is actually dead. It’s a pup, and it’s body has clearly been rotting for some time. A couple of gulls are gleefully pecking away at its tiny body. Mum sits a few metres away, having finally given in to the inevitable. A few metres further down the beach, there’s a mum that looks like she’s only recently given birth - but sadly to a stillborn. She’s clearly in the crucible of high emotion, and can’t give up on her dead child. Meanwhile, a gang of gulls (there might be a more correct collective, but surely not a more appropriate one) are advancing, to try and scavenge the (I imagine) still warm carcass, but mum keeps fighting them back. Speaking of fighting back, so am I - tears. Genuinely heartbreaking to watch. It doesn’t help that my overactive imagination has an Attenborough voiceover to this overwhelming scene of sorrow. I do manage to see some pups involved in deeply joyful activities, like bounding across the beach, and suckling. The indelible memory I’m left with though is that of death and decay.
Back in the truck, I find the smell has accompanied me. Windows open for a good 20 minutes to flush it out. 10km down the road, I find a bar, and reason that I ought to tilt my elbow to the fallen.
18:00
I’m headed for Spitzkoppe this afternoon. It’s about 130km as the crow flies, but the GPS system is trying to send me all of the way back to Swakopmund, before heading inland. I smell bullshit. I drive South until my phone picks up a decent connection, and check Google Maps. There’s a cross-country route that should be half the distance, and save me an hour.
As I turn off the main road, I’m almost immediately presented with a gravel road. 5 days into my road-trip, and I’ve come to something of a realisation. Shortly after I passed my driving test, my dad booked me onto an advanced driving course. I think it was largely because it offered guidance for motorway driving, but it covered general driving advice. It taught me to look much further ahead down the road, rather than focusing only on the one or two cars in front of me. In the case of motorway driving, I was told to look maybe 200m in front of my vehicle, in case anything went wrong ahead of me, and so that I would have time to react. Now, that’s a brilliant model of driving when the surface you’re driving on is consistent. When it’s constantly changing though, you do miss out on some of the essential detail. I’m learning to look as few as 10-20m in front of me, so I can see the exact moment the texture of the road is going to change. It’s made a MASSIVE difference to my sand/gravel driving. I know when to brake for a particularly loose bit of road surface, I know when I can accelerate because the road is stable for a few hundred metres. We’re not talking warp speed suddenly - but I reckon it’s increased my average speed by 10-15km/h, which is enough to make a difference to my travel times.
There’s no such thing as an ETA in Africa - particularly not in this part of it. You drive to the road conditions, and not an arrival time - otherwise you could come horribly unstuck. When I’m 40km from my overnight, I reason it’ll take me maybe 30-35 minutes to get there. Little do I know that the last 10km is going to be down a sand track, on which I nearly become stuck on more than seven occasions. My speed drops to 20km/h tops, and that feels quick on some stretches. When I arrive though - oh my goodness, the place is bewitching. In the shadow of several mountains, peace abound, and ice cold Savanna in the bar = WIN WIN WIN. It’s sort of in the Camp Gecko category of loveliness, but with a couple of extra comforts. I’m sold. Apparently there’s a 4km hike one can take out to a beautiful sunset spot. I’ll tell you what’s gonna be beautiful about the sunset I’m about to watch - it’s that I’m sitting here, glass of wine in hand, and trying to decide whether lamb chops or steak for dinner.
21:00
Lamb chops, since you ask. Sunset is spectacular, even if I don’t make the hike into the desert to watch it. As I headed further inland, the temperature has shot up. When I arrived at Spitzkoppe Camp, it was 32C. As the sun sets, a wonderfully cooling breeze whips up, and I’m grateful for it. I spend a lovely hour or so catching up with folks back home. I’m stoked to hear Alain and Aimee have got engaged! They’re visiting us in Brighton a couple of weeks after I get home, so am looking forward to celebrating with them. Sunset = fire time. I’m getting much better at building my fires, needing fewer and fewer firestarters to get it going. I’m sure I’m still a rank amateur compared to many, but my skills are definitely developing on the quiet. My lamb chops are super tasty, and I have some very cute mini sweet potatoes with them. It’s getting pretty chilly, and I’ve had a long day. Time for some snooze…Read more
Day 6 - Coastward Bound
September 30 in Namibia ⋅ 🌙 18 °C
13:00
Today, I leave the mighty Namib behind, and head for the coast. I’m awake at 05:00, having slept pretty well. Woke up a little achey once or twice in the night. It’s still totally dark outside, but I get up to get some coffee on. It is WINDY this morning. I’ve been warned of the particularly strong easterly winds in this part of the country, and there’s one blowing this morning - so much so that I daren’t leave the back or sides of the truck open in case everything blows away. This also makes the task of getting coffee ready a much slower one, as it’s a bit of a faff opening the door I need each time.
The sun starts to sneak up behind me. Suddenly I just notice the faintest tinge of blue in the otherwise black sky. It’s chilly. The overnight temp combined with the whistling wind mean I’m more comfortable in trainers and a fleece. The coffee does its job though. There’s suddenly a loud noise behind me. The wind is SO strong, that it has blown my tent off one side of its moorings. Wow. The top sheet is acting as something of a kite, and has pulled the rest of the tent with it. I quickly remove the top sheet, and fold the tent into something more approximating its normal shape. I’ll worry about reattaching the top sheet when:
1) I get into Swakopmund, and
2) the wind has substantially dropped.
It’s gonna be tough enough getting the waterproof covers onto the tents in this wind…
Breakfast is a simple delight. Toast made from Leia’s incredible fresh baked bread, and some homemade preserves - the one made from prickly pear is a particular delight. Some yoghurt and granola, and I’m good to go.
I’m noticing that each day, the first time I get on a rough, gravel road, it feels really alien, but I fairly quickly settle into it. Today is no different. I don’t remember the road to Camp Gecko being this rough, and after 5 minutes, it apparently isn’t.
I’m headed North West - up to Swakopmund. It’s a good 5 hours on the road, with a few stops along the way. It’s also ‘only’ 250km, which means there are some rough roads ahead.
I’m back on the C14 road, that was such a delight yesterday. I think the greatest challenge with these kinds of roads is the changing terrain. If it was ALL bumpy gravel, then sure - you can cope. It’s when a perfectly smooth stretch of paved road suddenly becomes a shifting sandy truck-trap that things go awry. Hitting these sand patches at 80km/h is not a great deal of fun. Immediately, the front wheels are loose. Sometimes, the rear wheels join them. I have a couple of slightly sketchy/adrenaline thumper moments. Try to make even the most gentle of turns on these surfaces at anything more than 40km/h, and it's instant understeer. Still, STILL there are vehicles travelling much faster than me.
I drive through the Gaub pass, which narrows the road as it twists and turns through some hills. I meander through the Kuiseb pass, part of Namibia’s Valley of 1,000 Hills. About 100km from Swakop, the road changes to a sort of flat (and smooth) mud-track that’s been mixed with tarmac. It’s a delight to drive on after the bumpathon I’ve endured this morning.
As I cruise North, the terrain starts to change. At points, I wonder if this is what the moon looks like. I mean - I’ve never been, but I’ve seen pictures. Ooh, speaking of terrain looking familiar - remember I said that the area around Camp Gecko felt like a cross between Mad Max and a Western movie? Well - much of Mad Max : Furiosa was filmed in this part of the world, so - meaningless 'well done' point to me.
There are vast swathes of arid nothingness as far as the eye can see. Way off in the distance I see what I believe to be low lying banks of cloud, shrouding the hilltops. It turns out, 20km down the road, that they are white rock. Why/how, I’m not sure.
I’m making really good progress now, and am rapidly approaching Walvis Bay - largely known as a fairly dull commercial port. I’ll stop in to see the dunes, then hit the coast road to Swakop.
17:45
Arriving into Swakopmund, I’m immediately struck by some of the late colonial architecture on display. What used to the old train station is now a luxury hotel and casino, but still retains the slightly Germanic Baroque style facade. Elsewhere, the architecture is more modern, and has some US beach-house vibes to it. It’s a fascinating melting pot. The colonial elements remind me of Namibia’s colonial history, and the largely German and Afrikaans influences that persist today.
I park up down by the beach. It’s noticeably cooler on the coast than the desert that’s been my home for the past 4 days. The outside temp shown in the car peaked this morning around 33C at 11:00, as I drove through arid bushland at the northern end of the Namib. It then gradually declined as I approached Swakop, and reads 20C as I arrive. Not cold, per se - but a much fresher feel to proceedings.
I stop in at Stammtisch, a pub by the beach, for a much deserved Savanna and some lunch. As I look around, I have vague recollections of similar beach towns in the US, and specifically the New England coast in Maine, New Hampshire and Massachusetts - grand old dames of towns, perhaps a little past their heyday, but with boundless charm and character. Reading a little about Swakopmund, I discover that open-water sea swimming is discouraged because of the risk of shark attacks, which is when it hits me - it reminds me of Amity Island from the Jaws movies.
My Savanna is cold, and the Bratwurst Brotchen (more of that German influence) is excellent. Brotchen is a ubiquitous bread roll, found in all bakeries and supermarkets in Namibia. Crusty, but with a super pillowy dough inside. Stuffed with mustard, some grilled onions and a couple of bratwurst, it’s an awesome way to sate some hunger.
I’m joining a work call tonight - something I would typically never do, so protective am I of my time away from the grindstone. When I joined PDRI, I negotiated some extra time off each year (unpaid) so I could continue to travel - reasoning that a happy Tim = a productive Tim, and that more travel = a happier Tim. My boss kindly agreed, but also mentioned when I got back from Sri Lanka earlier this year that having no contact with me for 2 weeks had been tough. 3 weeks in Namibia, she thought, would be even tougher. We have a leadership team meeting which I chair every Wednesday for a couple of hours, which stretches into my evening in the UK. I suggested we try having me join that call (but have someone else chair it) for the time I’m on this trip to see if:
1) It gives me enough contact with the team to help them out, and
2) I can integrate it into my travel without it impinging on my enjoyment of the trip.
Jobs in the past, I would have said no way - it would be too much of an imposition. I think I’m different now though, I think I’m capable of dipping in and out more effectively, and am happy to put that to the test.
As a result of my call, I grab some supplies for a room picnic, then head up to Desert Breeze, on the outskirts of town. My room is, let’s not beat around the bush, spectacular. Beautifully equipped, stunning views, thoughtfully decorated. Just incredible. My accommodation was booked for me by the company that also arranged my truck hire and itinerary. While I’ve checked out websites and a few online reviews, I’m relatively in the unknown about my accommodation options day-to-day. The juxtaposition between the empty and basic wilderness of Camp Gecko, and the super-luxe comfort of Desert Breeze is astonishing. I’ll chat to the arranging company when I get back. I suspect that they felt that after a few nights of basic camping, I would be in need of some creature comforts. I’m not sure that’s necessarily true, but the comforts are welcome anyway.
20:30
The work call is usually scheduled for 2 hours, and starts at 18:00 local time (17:00 in the UK). Today, it lasts for just under an hour, so I’m done by 19:00, and can return to my usual programming. Ten minutes after I sign out of Teams, I’m back to relaxing with my book in hand, a Savanna on the table next to me, and laid out on the uber comfy sofa. Turns out my hypothesis is correct. Doesn’t mean I’d always want to sign up to being in touch while I’m away, but I’m reassured that the option is there, should I or the company need it.
My room picnic consists of some Coppa - a locally produced, cured pork shoulder charcuterie. Sensational. Also in the bag are a Brie style cheese made in South Africa, and a baguette loaf made in the Brotchen style. Super simple, but very tasty and nourishing. A few days of early starts and long days are catching up with me, and the vast, comfy bed is making eyes at me. See ya tomorrow…Read more
Day 5 - Bag Full of Hot Air
September 29 in Namibia ⋅ 🌙 24 °C
11:00
The 04:00 alarm is brutal. I feel like I’ve not slept brilliantly, though not sure why. I don’t think it’s tenting related. I was a little anxious about packing up the truck in the dark, and at such an early time, conscious I could easily wake my neighbours if noisy. Happily, it’s more straightforward than I’d feared, and I’m actually packed and ready to go a little ahead of schedule
The Balloon company is 20 clicks South of Sesriem. As I park the truck, I can hear a hubbub of excited chatter. It’s still pitch dark, but the sun will start to rise soon. I’m introduced to my pilot, also called Tim! We agree to distinguish ourselves as Captain Tim, and Tim the flight attendant. I’ll leave that to your imagination…
The flight is sensational. Think it’s my 4th balloon flight in total, and vying with the flight over the Masai Mara as my favourite. The views over the desert are incredible - and a completely different experience from 1,000m up. The size and scale of the dunes is that much greater, even though I’m that much further from them. The sunrise is spectacular. I unpacked my digital SLR for the flight, and am so glad I did. Suspect many of the pics will be stunning.
We land around 30km from our launch point, and only 100m from the bush breakfast that’s been set up for us. Unless you’ve flown in a hot-air balloon, you might not realise how ridiculously accurate that is. Bush breakfast is accompanied by a couple of glasses of a decent Cap Classique (i.e. made like Champagne) sparkling wine from South Africa. Conscious I have to drive in the not too distant future, I refuse a 3rd glass. The sun is beating down, so much so that I rotate myself to ensure I don’t overcook one particular spot. A sort of human rotisserie, if you will. And on that, I’m gonna get on the road. Not a super long drive today, but a few stops I want to make along the way….
21:00
The drive may be fairly short, but it is tough. The road surface for much of the way is washboard, cover with loose sand and gravel. Even at modest speeds (c. 60 km\h), I can feel both the front and back ends of the truck want to slip and slide. The first 90 minutes or so are the toughest - so much so that I barely look around at the scenery, so hard am I concentrating on the road. There are, as there always are, folks that overtake me going MUCH faster… Judging by their vehicles, they’re local. All the hired vehicles I see are more circumspect in their approach, and I congratulate myself on not sticking out TOO much…
Around 13:00, I pull into Solitaire - a truck stop with a couple of shops and cafés attached to it. It feels awfully like the last civilisation before heading into the abyss. This whole region feels a little like a cross between Mad Max and the Wild West. Fewer guns, for sure. I reward myself with a super cold Savanna, top up the fuel tanks, and grab a few camp supplies for this evening - water, Savanna, Simba chips. The essentials. It’s only another 22km up to my overnight stop, so push on.
Just before I reach Camp Gecko, I stop at a lovely little roadside café/shop type affair. I feel like I may very much be the only customer they see today. I grab a coffee, and sit outside making use of cell signal I have to let Vicki know I may not be in touch later. Near the gate, there are a couple of astronauts driving a tractor, because of course there are.
Arriving at Camp Gecko feels like arriving at the end of the earth I mean that in an entirely positive way, but it won’t be for everyone. I’m met by Hailey (the cat) and Leia (the owner). Everything’s super chilled here. There’s actually a WiFi network in the reception area, and some charging points if I run low on juice. I’ve brought my iPad with me with some TV and movies downloaded, but haven’t cracked it open since my flight. I head up to my campsite, and it is breathtaking. I have a small covered lapa, with views over the vast and open desert plains. I can see from the sun’s position that it’s going to set directly in front of me. I smash through a couple of Savanna while I get the camp set-up. It’s a much easier proposition than my first attempt. My pitch has an outdoor shower, with sun warmed water. If the water’s too cold, there are some wood logs underneath the water tank I can use to heat it. There’s an open air toilet, and I do mean open-air. I shall grab a pic from the throne before I leave. What there is more than anything else is an overwhelming sense of tranquility. I feel like I could be the last person on earth so detached am I from whatever might be going on wherever else it might be going on.
When checking in, Leia mentioned a natural freshwater pond I can use for swimming, and that my pre-booked braai pack will be ready for collection from 17:00. I decide to combine the two, and head off at a brisk walk in the direction of the reception area. It’s a quite hilly, and also quite treacherous path. I’ve stupidly worn my slops to walk down a loose and steep gravel path. Eejit. The pond is amazing. No chemicals, but tons of fish. That’s correct. You go swimming with the fishes. I ease into the very cold but superlatively refreshing water, and cool my bones. Several fish come to investigate me. Refreshed, I grab a Savanna from the fridge (honesty bar type situation) and settle in to air-dry while I read my book.
Dinner is sensational. A marinated zebra steak, a Wagyu boerewors, a sort of sweet and sour cabbage salad, and a gem squash, stuffed with tomato, corn and mozzarella. Oh, and slice of zebra cake for dessert. Leia puts these together daily for her guests, and it’ll always feature a cut of local venison. The zebra is sensational - and much more tender than the beef I cooked last night. As I’m cooking, the sun is setting off to the West, and the views stop me in my tracks. Such incredible colours…
After I’ve eaten and tidied up, I settle back in to read. It’s pitch dark, and I’m suddenly conscious that the super isolated feeling I enjoyed so much earlier is a slightly different proposition when I can’t see 6 inches in front of my face. Every noise, every whistle, every crack - I feel myself looking up from my book, and vainly looking around to see if I can see what’s making the noise. I’m pretty sure that this is going to be the most remote campsite I stay at during my trip. Most of the others are pitches grouped together. Here, part of the appeal, in daylight hours at least, is that I can’t see another human being. At least I don’t think I can…
By 20:30, I’m flagging. One of the downsides of the camping/truck combo is that it renders a nap almost impossible. I spose I could park up at the side of the road, but with the engine off, the cab would get VERY hot, VERY quickly - and the tent would be no better. Nope - naps are gonna be restricted to the days that I have B+B accommodation, the first of which is tomorrow, in Swakopmund. If you don’t hear from me for a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon, you’ll know why…
I climb into my tent, which is much cooler than last night. I’m at a total of around 1,000m above sea level here, and it shows. I actually climb straight into my sleeping bag, which was NOT on the cards in Sesriem. I read my book until my eyes can stay open no longer. I’ve been awake since 04:00, and it’s time for sleep…Read more
Tim's TravelsPerhaps the astronauts are taking the tractor to pull their rocket out of the ground?
Day 4 - Sand in my Shoes
September 28 in Namibia ⋅ ☀️ 15 °C
11:00
I’m awake earlier than I’d have liked. I think I’ve been a bit het up about not being able to get in touch with Vicki to let her know all’s well. I’m sure she’ll have put 2+2 together, and realised the lack of signal means I got back on the road ok… I pre-warned that there would potentially be lengthy spells without any kind of connection - but even so, it’s rattling around in my brain.
The bonus of being awake at 05:00 is seeing the sun rise over the mountains in front of my chalet. It’s ball-bustingly pretty in Naukluft. Deadly silent, peaceful as can be. Breakfast is served at 07:30, and I’m ready for a feed. My diet yesterday consisted entirely of car food. Pre-packaged sandwich from the supermarket, some Biltong, some Chutney flavoured Simba chips. Not the very best of balanced diets. Breakfast is a bucket full of grease, in the best possible way. Bacon, venison (antelope) sausage, fried eggs and fried bread. Delish. Hopefully no coronary on the way to Sesriem…
I’m on the road by 09:00, and heading to Neuras - a winery about 60km away. Driving back through the park to the gate I entered through last night, I’m struck by just how bumpy and treacherous the road is. Suspect had it not been pitch black when I drove through last night, I’d have been a lot more circumspect in my driving style.
Rejoining the main road (still a gravel road) I set off to the South West, and run through some incredible landscape. Deep rift valleys, hewn millions of years ago from bedrock; stunning rock formations ingrained into red stone cliffs… There’s a scale to rural African scenery that just takes my breath away. I try and capture it on film, but suspect I won’t have done it justice. I turn off the main (gravel) road onto a smaller (gravel) road. It’s 10km of washboard bumps, all the way to Neuras.
The winery is super pretty, mixing the almost Mediterranean style of architecture to a much more traditionally African vibe. There’s a cactus garden say next to a beautiful terracotta roofed terrace, where I sit to taste their wines. They’re pioneers in the art of low water consumption wine making. Despite the climactic conditions here, on the fringes of the Namib desert, they grow three red grape varieties, more common to the Rhone region of France - Syrah, Grenache and Mourvedre. Their 3 estate wines are a straight Syrah, then two GSM blends with differing amounts of each constituent grape in the blend. All are relatively modest ABV - 11% for the Syrah up to 12% for the weightiest of the GSM blends. They’re all delicious, surprisingly full bodied for relatively light wines, and a delightful way to pass an hour. Reminds me - I really must check the drink driving laws in Namibia some time today….
16:00
The journey down to Sesriem is bewitching. Some of the most stunning scenery imaginable. It feels otherworldly at times. I’m particularly struck by the colour contrasts - bright red into yellow into green into blue. It’s just mesmerising. Sesriem is a tourist centre for nearby Sossusvlei - home to the famous and incredibly evocative red sand dunes of the Namib Desert. I pull into Sesriem a little before 14:00. There’s a queue of braying tourists checking in for the campsite, so I repair to the bar for an ice cold Savanna. It’s a thing of great, great majesty - so much so, that I order a second. I’m trying to decide what to do this afternoon. I’m a bit peckish, and wouldn’t mind a nap, but I’m also minded to head to the dunes for a wander. Decisions, decisions…
21:30
I a frankly staggering display of self-discipline, I elect for dunes - and am so glad I did. My ballon trip tomorrow morning will ‘try’ to take us over the dunes, but given the susceptibility of the wind to do windy things, there are no guarantees. I take a 40km drive into the desert on a hot, tarmac road. The National Park closes at 18:00, so all of the traffic is heading in the other direction. The views are mind-blowing, the dunes huge. I have a wander around Dune 40, one of the biggest. I make it approx 12.3% of the way up before I sack off the idea of climbing to the top. It’s fucking hot today - 38C at its peak, and feels every degree of it. Standing at the foot of the dune is bewitching. There are swirls and eddies of sand all over the surface. They’re almost hypnotic.
Back in the car, I cruise back to Sesriem, suddenly conscious that I’ve not eaten since breakfast at Naukluft.
My first setting up of the tent/kitchen combo is probably a little more complex than it really needed to be. I’ll get quicker with practice. There’s a braai pit, so I build a wood fire - for warmth as the desert cools, to cook over, and to ward off beasties. Dinner is a banger. Veggies cooked directly in the embers of the fire - a gem squash, a sweet potato and some corn-on-the-cob. Protein is some steak I picked up in Windhoek on Sunday. It’s a little tough, but very tasty.
Cooking, eating and clearing is done by 20:00, so I spend a joyful hour sitting by the first with a glass of Neuras wine that I bought earlier, and my book. Early to bed tonight, as I’ve an 04:00 alarm call for a sunrise hot-air balloon ride. After the travails of yesterday, it’s been a sensational and successful day…Read more
Day 3 - On the road again. And again. And again...
September 27 in Namibia ⋅ 🌙 18 °C
16:30
I wake at 07:00, having slept well. I’m picked up at 08:30 to go to the truck depot to meet my chariot. I’m given a VERY thorough lesson in how everything works - from the 4x4 system, to the tent, to the frankly pretty scary jack mechanism for getting the car out if it’s stuck in soft sand. It’s an incredible vehicle, with tons of clever features and designs.
I’m on the road by 10:30, and headed to Grove Mall, a giant shopping complex on the outskirts of Windhoek. I’ve a fairly substantial shopping list to grab - mainly food, but some household items as well. There’ll be opportunities to top up along the route, but big supermarkets will be few and far between. I’m a little surprised by the cost of some items. Meat and veg are well priced, but store cupboard staples like salt and pepper, olive oil and rice are pretty punchy.
Leaving the mall, I stop at a Shell service station to fill the tanks. The truck as 2 diesel tanks, each holding 80 litres. It’s pretty much empty when I top up, and the total cost of fuel is $4,000 - around £180. Not quite the vertiginous £2.00 I’ve seen recently in the UK, but still a chunk of change. Still - should be enough for 1,500 kilometres.
Leaving Windhoek behind, I’m struck by just how quickly I feel like I’m in the middle of nowhere. Windhoek’s hardly a sprawling metropolis, but as few as 3-4km from Grove Mall, I’m surrounded by scrub and farmland. I settle into a cruise at 110km/h. The roads are long and straight, with a heat haze shimmer at the horizon.The surrounding scenery is achingly pretty. Rocky outcrops, olive green mountains in the distance. After an hour or so, I arrive into Rehoboth, the last town of any meaningful size between Windhoek and Naukluft, my destination this evening. A couple of clicks past Rehoboth, I turn off the paved road onto my first gravel road of the trip. I’m still familiarising myself with the vehicle, so take it pretty easy. I can feel the wheels shifting around on the loose gravel. It’s initially a little disconcerting, but soon becomes comfortable. I’ve got about 160km to go on this road - a good couple of hours realistically.
There’s incredibly little traffic on the road, and I wile away the time gazing into the vast scenery around me. Around 15:30, I notice that something’s amiss. The brakes feel soft, and there’s a lot of travel in the pedal. I slow down to see if I can hear anything obvious. I cannot. There are no warning lights on the dashboard. I come to a complete halt, and have a quick look around the vehicle. Disaster. There’s a pool of liquid gathering between the two rear wheels. I haven’t noticed loud bumps or thumps, so have no idea how it’s happened. I call the truck rental agency, and over the course of about an hour, we agree that the truck is not drivable, and that they need to send me a mobile mechanic - which may take some time….
TIA.
22:00
Well, this has turned into quite the first day of my road trip. After further phone calls, the Bushlore guys reckon it’s safest to send me out a new vehicle, which needs to be driven down from Windhoek. The driver leaves at 17:00, and it’ll take close to 3 hours before I see him. I settle in to read my book. A car or truck passes perhaps every 20-30 minutes. Several slow down to check I’m ok. One of the farmers nearby asks if I’d like to come and wait at his house, which is incredibly sweet. I’ve got plenty of snacks, some Savanna (and also soft drinks, obvs) and if the very worst comes to the very worst, I’ve a tent on top of the truck, and plenty of braai supplies.
Otujo arrives just before 20:00. The sun sets quickly in this part of the world, and it’s full dark by the time he reaches me. He checks out my current truck briefly. I explain about the brake fluid, and the pedal going long. He jumps in and tries it out, before exclaiming, “Oh! Is very big broken sir!” So - that’s reassuring.
We do some paperwork, transfer my belongings to the new truck, and I scamper away. I hope Otujo manages to repair the truck so it’s roadworthy, and can get him home to Windhoek.
Now, the darkness combined with a slightly unsettling feeling from experiencing complete brake failure earlier makes me super vigilant. I’m back on the road around 20:30 and I’ve got another 45-50 minutes to go before I reach Naukluft campsite. In a fit of pique, while waiting for Otujo, I booked one of their log chalets for the night in place of my existing campsite booking. I’m looking forward to the truck camping experience, but I don’t particularly fancy my first experience of setting everything up to be in the pitch black.
I arrive at the entrance to Naukluft National Park, within which my accommodation is located. There’s a closed gate at the entrance, and my heart drops. This is in line with other African parks I’ve visited, where there is no entry after sunset, and vehicles are prohibited from driving around the park at night as well. There’s no guard at the gate though, and a quick inspection shows no lock on it either. I quickly open the gate and drive through. If there’s a kerfuffle, I’ll claim ignorant tourist. The road in the park is properly bumpy. I’m trying to balance caution with the need to, you know - actually get somewhere. Finally, FINALLY - I pull into Naukluft campsite at 21:30.
I approach the reception building, and it transpires the reception team are literally packing up to go home. I’ve got incredibly lucky, otherwise I suspect I’d have had to camp in the car park. My chalet is lovely - but features neither electricity nor WiFi. Not a problem when I originally booked a campsite, but a little trickier now, as I also have no cell reception, and no way to tell poor Vicki back home that all is well, and I’m in a good place. Hopefully (!) my phone will pick up a random signal before too long, and my messages will get through…
I’m properly tuckered after a much more challenging day than intended. Decent kip tonight, early start tomorrow, and onwards - to Sesriem!Read more
Day 2 - Jambo Jambo!
September 26 ⋅ ☁️ 33 °C
07:30
The guy sitting next to me on the flight from London into Nairobi is, let's be frank, a bit of a dick. Rude to the staff, making a mess that intrudes into my seat space - just generally being a bore. The crew on the flight are lovely. So friendly and thoughtful. Dinner service is done within 2 hours of take-off, so plenty of time for some sleep. The food is really tasty. I’ve not eaten much through the day, so it was a welcome interjection. A braised beef cheek dish served with smoked mashed potato is stellar. Not great for a plane - just great, full stop.
Sated, I get my head down for some sleep. I manage about 3 hours, which isn’t terrible. Neither is it great. Suspect I’ll have dozes on my subsequent flights. I try to get back to sleep, but it’s not gonna happen. The rest of the cabin is dark and quiet, so I get up for a mooch. I end up sitting with some of the crew at the front of the plane. Peter, Michelle and Asilia (female) tell me about their life working for Kenya Airways, and some of the destinations they’ve visited that I have not yet. They tell me that I’ll be blown away by Victoria Falls, that Namibia will spell-bind me. They share stories of Madagascar and Mozambique, both high up on my list of must visit places. They are less than warm in their descriptions of their visits to China, where they feel that black people are treated incredibly poorly.
I watch a movie to pass the time - Mystic River. I missed it the first time around, and have never got around to watching. It’s excellent. Brilliantly directed by Clint Eastwood, and some great performances from an ensemble cast. Give it a whirl. Pretty bleak, but worth the misery…
We land into NBO on time at 05:35, and then take nearly 40 minutes to deplane, which is ludicrous. There’s a bit of a hiatus at the security check for transferring passengers, where but 2 security staff are manning 4 security scanners. I’m quickly enough pitching up at the Simba Lounge. I’m a little confused - on the departure screens around the airport, my flight is showing as departing at its original departure time of 07:45. Now, before I left London, I got a message from Kenya Airways saying it had been delayed to 08:40. You trust the local, on-the-ground information, right?
WRONG. As I show my boarding card to the receptionist at the Simba lounge, she tells me that the flight is slightly delayed, to 08:40. So that’s not at all baffling.
In the lounge, I park up. I’m feeling pretty sleepy. I don’t wanna overdo it on caffeine, as I’d like to get some more sleep on my 4 hour hop into Johannesburg. There’s a rule that says when in Kenya, you must Tusker. I’m not gonna break the rules, so….
13:30
The Tusker nearly finishes me off. Not in a terrible way, but by the time I leave the lounge for my now 08:40 departure, I’m close to narcoleptic. Happily, when I arrive at the gate, the sign says we’re already boarding. This proves to be a lie. We sit in an increasingly warm departure gate for 45 minutes. I don’t have any WiFi or cell signal here, so can’t even investigate what’s going on. Several times, I catch myself nodding off.
Finally, we board around 09:00. My seat is super comfy, and has tons of leg room. It’s a regional flight, so not a full lie-flat bed type affair, but it will serve my purposes. Seconds after I sit down, I’m fast asleep. The next thing I remember is the pilot slamming the power up for takeoff. After we level off, I’m back into zizz-land. I’m woken an hour later by a wonderful cabin crew member called Festo, who offers me breakfast. I’m not entirely sure what time of day my body thinks it is, but breakfast sounds cool. He offers me coffee, which I decline. I have my sights set on at least another hour of snooze before we arrive into Joburg.
I wake for the final time as an announcement declares that we’ll begin our descent into Joburg soon. I’ve comfortably slept 3 of the 4 hours I’ve been on the plane. So why then, did I struggle to sleep in the objectively much comfier, 6 foot long bed of my overnight flight. Excitement and anticipation? Perhaps. I think I’ve had somewhere between 5 and 6 hours all in, so probably enough to get me through the day. Probably depends how many Savanna I have time for in the lounge at Joburg.
Speaking of which! My first Savanna Dry on African soil in a few years. It’s served in a goblet the size of my head, as is apparently the way. I’m not sure why I have such an attachment to this drink. It’s a fairly sweet apple cider that’s ubiquitous in South Africa (and, I’m assured, Namibia), and has a faint taste of bubblegum. At least, of the synthetic bubblegum flavour of sweets of my youth. I shouldn’t like it, but I do. I very rarely buy it in the UK, but in Africa, it’s my go-to thirst quencher. It’s clearly evocative of some of my earliest trips to South Africa, which I loved so much. That’s fully 25 years ago now, and I’ve yet to grow bored of this incredible country.
The South African Airways lounge is lovely. Easily the best of the three I’ve visited on this sector. Tons of space, lots of quiet little nooks and crannies, great view of the runway. Joburg’s international terminal is faintly familiar. I’ve definitely flown out of here a few times, most recently when Vicki and I flew from Joburg back to London in 2019. There’s a supersized model of Nelson Mandela in one of the shops, which rings a vague bell. I’ll try and get a selfie on the way to the departure gate…
21:00
Totes forgot about the NM selfie. In my defence, the bar dude in the lounge had decided to keep my head sized Savanna filled it all times, and by the time I went to the board the plane, I was somewhat refreshed.
You’re going to see me use the term ‘TIA’ quite a lot over the next few weeks. It’s an acronym for ‘This is Africa.’ For those that spend a lot of time here, it infers that shit’s gonna happen, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The reason I mention this is because I have my first TIA experience at the departure gate in Joburg. We’re delayed - by how much, no one knows. Why, no one cares. I ask how long it will be till we board, and am told 5-7 minutes. 12-25 minutes later, I enquire again, and am told 5-7 minutes. TIA. No amount of European hissy-fitting is gonna change the circumstances. You’ve just gotta kick-back, be patient, and say, “TIA.”
I’ve been a bit non-plussed about my last flight of this particular journey. I’m in seat 6J, which on a 30 row plane, doesn’t feel all that business-y. It transpires that row 6 is the first row on the aircraft. As I board, I meet Portia, who is the purser for the flight. She looks mischievous, so we immediately make friends.
As the plane levels out, the cabin crew run a drinks service. Portia recommends an aged and oaked Chenin Blanc. I’m game. It’s delicious. I ask to look at the bottle, and it’s made by my old friend Carmen Stevens. I had some snacks in the lounge, so am not hungry, but Portia keeps my glass topped up.
About 30 minutes before we arrive, I nip to the bathroom. On my return to my seat, I find my wine glass refilled. Honestly - best cabin crew ever.
We land into WDH pretty much on time. I’m through immigration fairly quickly, despite some hefty language challenges along the way. It’s a new stamp in my passport, and I’m delighted about that. This current passport is on its way out soon, and I’m gutted, because:
1) It’s an old style, burgundy EU passport, and
2) It has WAY more stamps than any other passport I’ve ever had.
I want to frame it.
Past immigration, and holy fuck! My bag is the FIRST to emerge from the baggage handlers. Whenever I’m on a multi-leg sector, there’s a hint of anxiety as to whether my bag will turn up at all. When it’s three legs, all through Africa, I’m stunned.
Through customs, and I’m looking for my driver to take me to my overnight hotel stay. No sign. I ask a few drivers, but nothing. TIA. I head to the ATM to get some cash, and pop into a local mobile provider’s shop to get a sim card for some local data. This takes all of 10 minutes. Still no sign of my driver. With my new sim card, I call them. They tell me to (and I’m not making this up) keep my eyes open for a driver.
A dude approaches me, and asks if I am Kim. I go with it, because at this point - why not? It’s a 30 minute drive into Windhoek, largely down a clear dual carriageway. The sun is setting to the West of us, and I breathe a sigh of, not relief, but of comfort. I’m incredibly lucky to have travelled as extensively as I have. According to Claude, I’m better travelled than more than 99% of the global population. And I will always get the frisson of excitement of discovering somewhere new. But there is nothing, NOTHING like arriving into Africa for an extended adventure. It is bold, it is slightly scary, but it is the absolute tits when it comes to excitement and exploration.
Arriving to Arrebush, I’m suddenly conscious I’ve been on the road for around 30 hours. That’s a lot, in anyone’s currency. My room is great, but I’m hungry. The lodge restaurant offers a ‘venison’ of the day. In Africa, that means whatever local antelope is good and/or available. Tonight, it’s Oryx, something I’ve not had before. Most African venison is SO lean that you have to order it medium rare, in case shoe leather. The Oryx is sensational - incredible flavour, and accompanied with a simple but delicious pilaf rice. Couple of glasses of a more than decent Western Cape Cabernet, and I’m out for less than £15. Sensational value, and a massively cool welcome to the continent. I am SO excited for tomorrow that I briefly doubt I'll sleep.Read more
Day 1 - I have NOT been here before
September 25 in England ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C
13:30
I write this from the back of a cab on my way to Heathrow Terminal 4. WAY back in the day, maybe 25 years ago, I was a regular at T4, as it was BA’s main base of operations for the domestic flights I used to take on a regular basis for work. I spent a bunch of time working in Glasgow, Newcastle, Perth, Aberdeen - and was a frequent visitor to Terminal 4. These days though, with BA’s flights pretty much all using T5, Terminal 4 has become a bit of an odds and sods bucket, largely featuring airlines that don’t have an airline alliance. For me, today - that’s Kenya Airways. I’ve a 3 flight sector coming up, as I head to Windhoek in Namibia. Heathrow to Nairobi, on to Johannesburg, and then a short hop from Joburg into Windhoek. It’s about 24 hours end to end, and will doubtless be pretty knackering. I scored a brilliant deal on a business class fare, so should at least be able to get some half-decent kip.
I’m off for a little over 3 weeks, and am rabidly excited for the journey. I’m taking a road-trip across the spine of southern Africa - 2 weeks around Namibia, a week across the Okavango playing jump-rope with the border between Namibia and Botswana, and finishing up in Zimbabwe at Victoria falls. I’ll drive something like 3,500 miles, much of it off-road, or least on loose gravel roads. My vehicle is a pick-up truck - a Toyota HiLux. It’s modified to include a kitchen set-up and a fridge in the bed of the truck, and a tent on the roof. Yup - 15 of the next 20 nights will be spent in a small tent on top of my pick-up. Why up high? Well, that’s so the animals can’t eat you.
I’m flying (literally and figuratively) solo. I did ask if Vicki fancied the journey, and got a pretty quick and adamant, NO. Regular readers of this blog will know that whilst I adore travelling with my beloved wife, I’m also very happy to head out on my own. Road trips are very much my thing as well. So much to which to look forward…
18:45
My business class ticket makes my airport experience a breeze. Traffic’s none too bad on the way up to Heathrow, and I’m checked in / through security in fewer than 30 minutes. T4 is unrecognisable from my experiences of 25 years ago. That, or my memory has become so poor that it just doesn’t jog any memories.
I enjoy travelling in a premium cabin whilst dressed like the bastard offspring of a redneck and tramp. At several point along my way, airport workers give me a double take when they see my boarding card. I am DEFINITELY lowering the tone in the business class lounge - without even doing anything or speaking out loud. The lounge has both a decent sounding white and red, and I reason the only way to know which I prefer is to try both. The white is marginally the winner - a juicy blend from the Douro Valley in Portugal.
I have some work to finish off. It’s been years since I took a 3 week trip while gainfully employed. I always used to find that for a 2 week trip, it would take me at least 5 days to unwind from work, and for the last 5 days of the trip, I’d be winding back up. With a 3 week trip, the sweet-spot of properly detaching my brain from work multiplied by a factor of 3. I’m fascinated to discover whether that’s still the case. I don’t think it will be. Since joining PDRI, I’ve managed to maintain a much more detached relationship to my work. I still work hard, and I still care about the quality of the work that I do. BUT - I don’t feel the frustration in the same way, the (inevitable) failures don’t distress, and I’ve found over the past 18 months that I can slow down my brain much more effectively. Keeping fingers crossed the same remains true this time around.
I’m intrigued watching my fellow travellers. I listen in to… No - that’s not correct. I have no choice but to listen in to a very loud guy’s sales call that he’s doing from the lounge while he chugs down a Jack and coke. He honestly pulls out the line, “No really - trust me,” which is an interesting approach to sales technique. There’s a guy that’s very furtive. I find myself wandering what nefarious activity he’s got planned, then catch him having a crafty vape from the sleeve of his hoodie. I nod the nod of the co-conspirator.
Boarding time comes round pretty quickly, and I’m pleased with the plane/seat combo. It’s a 2-3-2 formation, so there’s a chance someone may have to climb over me at some point. I’ve picked an aisle seat on the middle bank to keep that risk to a minimum. The seat has tons of space, more legroom than I can possibly use, and feels pretty comfy. A lovely lady called Michelle brings me a glass of champagne and I sink down into the seat cushions…Read more
TravelerMan seems to have forgotten that big cats can climb trees, so hopping up onto a 4x4 will be easy peasy.
Tim's TravelsApparently / so I'm told / allegedly etc etc, the big cats don't come anywhere near the campsites. Might see an occasional hyena, the odd hippo, but more likely to be baboons, vervet monkeys, warthogs and antelope.
Traveler
Campest monkey ever.
Tim's TravelsCorrect. Thought you'd appreciate him...