Maun and the Old Bridge

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I arrived in Maun on February 26th with the intention of staying four or five nights. Eight days later I finally dragged myself away with great reluctance to continue my journey south. If it were not for the fact that I have to be in Gaborone by Friday I'd certainly have stayed longer.

In Maun I found a true home from home in the shape of the Old Bridge Backpackers. In four years of travels through nine African countries I have stayed in expensive hotels, flea pit hotels, tents, mud huts, tin shacks, the floor of a landrover and a miscellany of hostels, but nowhere has been more welcoming and more consistently helpful and friendly as Helena and Dave, and all of the other staff at the Old Bridge.

There were a couple of days when I didn't leave the bar all day. I relaxed with a good book, caught up on my handwritten travel journal, drank fruit juice, Hunter's Cider, and shots of Tequila, and got to know the locals - many of whom frequent the place as their local bar. Maun seems to capture interesting people, and once there they seem almost inevitably to gravitate to the Old Bridge.

I didn't just sit and socialise however. In addition to the mokoro trip in my last entry, I also took a couple more motorboat trips upriver. The main route to the delta runs past the local prison where orange clothed prisoners wave at passing tourists from behind the 1m high fences. They could easily escape, but choose to stay because in prison they learn useful farming skills that will help them once out. It is also possible to hire groups of prisoners to work as laborers.

On other occasions I went out riding on a beautiful horse called Fox. Prior to here I had done very little horse riding, and I'd never had proper lessons. This time however I was with a very experienced teacher and learnt a great deal. I fear though that I'll not have another opportunity to practice for some considerable time. It was a really beautiful area to ride through, despite the many acacia bushes to avoid/duck under, and the brief swim across the river was wonderful too - especially since I wasn't the one who fell in!

I spent much of my last three days learning to weave traditional baskets with the current World Champion. She has been winning the championship for several years now, beating competition from all over Africa, India, the US, the UK and many other countries. Seeing her work first hand, I can see why.

Basket weaving is very time consuming. It took me about ten hours to produce a small coaster, and I was apparently very quick for a beginner. I'm pretty happy with the result too, although I did have a lot of help. Given the amount of work that goes into each piece (some take months) the prices are ridiculously low. I bought two, and would have loved more, but simply had no where to put them.

I also flew (as a passenger) over the Delta in the back of a Cessna 206. It's really cramped back there and having drank far too much Tequila that afternoon, I had problems staying awake. The view was amazing though, with herds of elephants, giraffe, impala and buffalo arrayed below us. I'm also pretty sure that I spotted a lone lioness at one point.

Now though, I'm in Francistown. It involved a 7hr bus journey crammed into a corner, but cost just P56.50 (approx: #4.30 GBP). It's okay here, but I'll be happy enough to move on and have no particular desire to return. Maun on the other-hand is far up my list of places to go back to, and when I do, I'll certainly be staying at the Old Bridge.

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Comments

[Liz]

Dreaming of Distant Lands
Rob, Really enjoying reading your journal. You write so well and convey a very strong sense of the places you visit and your experience of them. I MUST start planning that next trip! Liz x

[Vicky P]

Very cool to read about your adventures in Africa. I'm not jealous at all. :D