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BEACHED MOCORO
Native shallow-bottom boats rest on the shore of the Okavango Delta.AFRICA
THE SUN GOES DOWN
After two days in the guesthouse, we packed the Big Red bus and headed into the Namib desert. Towering red sand dunes dwarfed us. Six Rings, our new campground, was named for the Sesriem Canyon. This gorge was purported to be six whips deep, the number of thongs needed for the settlers to get water out of the pools of water in the canyon, thus the name Six Rings.
After lunch, we began to climb one of the enormous dunes to capture spectacular photos of the sunset.
The sunset walk proved to be too strenuous for me. Everyone scurried up the dune except me. I dragged myself up. I was alone. There was no trail, just a view of the top of the dune. I picked a path that looked the least treacherous. Alone and on the sand, I made very little noise, turned a corner, and encountered a large antelope. I felt lucky. The going was so slow that I stopped before reaching the top. I watched the others crest the summit, spread out along the dune, and set up their cameras, waiting for the sunset. I knew I would never
LARGE LONELY ANTELOPE
I was walking in the silence when I suddenly surprised this fellow. It gave me quite a start. make it in time, so I took a photo, turned around, and hurried back toward our vehicle while the others were still taking photographs. I hoped to arrive at the bus before the rest of the group for a change.
No such luck. I was walking fast, but the path just went on and on. There was nothing to mark the exit point. Two young deaf girls stopped me and asked if I needed help. I shook my head, thinking I would eventually come to the bus if I kept following the footprints. As darkness threatened, Hubert and Norman came to meet me.
I was already feeling bad for not being part of the group. Norman's first words were a reprimand. He chastised me for not returning on time and holding up the group. He said we might be locked out of the campground; we had to be inside before dark!
I wasn't part of the group. I was alone going up and coming back down. And I was beginning to worry about being lost in the dark. I was fighting tears of embarrassment. Finally, I barked back at Norman and told him I was doing my
best. He reached for my arm, and I shook him off. No one spoke to me when I got to the bus. Back at camp, Norman came to where I was sitting and apologized. Sympathy was even worse. The rest of the group resorted to speaking German, making me feel even more isolated. This was really the lowest point of my trip.
Very early the following morning, we took a different vehicle and drove to another dune to greet the sunrise. I didn't want to climb again, feeling defeated before the trek began. There were other groups, so I fell in behind one of them and made it to the crest for the sunrise. I snowboarded down the side of the dune on the way back. Breakfast was ready when we got back to camp. Ben, one of the teenagers, ran the 4 km back to camp in 21 min. Quite the athlete.
Later, we strolled through the Canyon, which is now just a shallow Gorge. Still, the light from above causes interesting shadows as the towering walls twist and turn. Back at camp after dinner, I joined the kids and other adults playing UNO.
On day
SUNRISE
This dune did give us some great photos. 13, we drove into Windhoek and stayed in a guesthouse. It was a beautiful city. Hubert joined me at the street market. I bought some unique shopping bags for my friends and a small metal giraffe that captured my interest.
A long day followed, an 8-hour drive, interrupted by another border crossing...two stops, one leaving Namibia and one entering Botswana.
We arrived at the campsite early, and after setting up the tents, we met a group of Bushmen, two men and three women, for a walk in the Kalahari desert. As a pre-teen, I read The Bushmen of the Kalahari, so this was like a dream come true.
This was a thrill, but as with most high points, there was some sadness. This proud group representing the ancestors of the human race has been reduced to beggars in their own land.
The Elder led us into the scrub brush, occasionally stopping to show us different plants nearby. These plants were a natural pharmacy for the tribe, used for cleaning teeth, preventing pregnancy, healing wounds, etc. He handed me a medium-sized seed and told me to place it under my tongue. Once we all complied, we waited.
PARK RANGER VEHICLE
The ranger gave us a ride to the dune for our sunrise walk. Suddenly, each of us jumped and spit out the seed. It exploded in our mouth. It was like a pop-rock on steroids. It so delighted the youngest of our group that she gathered several dozen to take home and surprise her friends.
The younger Bushman mimed a hunting demonstration. After the Bushmen left, our guide told us, the Kalahari was broken into small fenced holdings for the people, with large portions taken for development by the government, often used for grazing cattle. Bushmen are no longer allowed to track and hunt. They are deprived of all the animals they used to hunt for sustenance, while white hunters are given permits to take what is forbidden to them. The guide told a story of how the most renowned Bushman hunter in the region jumped fences and killed cattle in reparation when a lion or buffalo was killed by white hunters on safari.
Before heading off into the Okavango Delta, we were offered the opportunity to take a helicopter ride and see the herds of animals from the air. I was very excited. My dad had a small plane as a child, but I've never flown in a helicopter. After
LOOKS LIKE DEATH VALLEY
This was another nice walk in the dunes...flat! a good night's sleep, we took a Bush truck to a large empty field half an hour from our camp. There were two helicopters with no doors. As I waited my turn, I was sad that our two youngest tour members, Ela and Marie, wanted to go, but there wasn't room. We were so happy when our pilot came over to give us instructions. He said there were empty seats, and he could also take the girls. They were absolutely babbling with joy and excitement. The older girl, Ela, sat in the back seat with me. We both were a little worried about the missing doors and gripped the bar behind the front seat with bloodless hands. We grinned and laughed, recognizing that we were both terrified. Especially when the craft tipped 45 degrees, nose down on ascent. We had such a thrilling ride. Photos were not spectacular, but the experience was a wonder and extra special because I got to share Ela's excitement, too.
Today, Adventure is on the menu. We took a few essentials in small backpacks and drove to the Okavango Delta, where we met men and women from a local tribe who pole small boats
SIX RINGS GORGE
It did descend quite deep. called mokoro. The Delta is a large marsh with five or six-foot-tall water plants that our boatmen confidently pole through, avoiding bathing elephants and even more intimidating submerged hippos. Once, when we had safely navigated past basking hippos, the dominant male rose out of the water and roared, lunging after us. He made a huge splash. Our boatman laughed and said it was only a show for his harem. I was relieved he was no longer close enough to prove he meant it.
When we reached the campsite, our hosts, tribal men, set up the entire camp. We did nothing. They also dug the latrine and erected a small outdoor shower. Here, we are isolated, and the animals surround us. There are no fences, but luckily, the animals like their privacy. Once the tents were up, we went for a two-hour hike in the savannah. Our native guides showed us a badger hole and warned us to always be cautious and leave plenty of space between our feet and the opening since you never know if it is occupied. There was a constant barrage of natural information. It was hard to remember much. We saw elephants, wildebeests, zebras, warthogs,
EERIE.
The walls were very steep and very twisty. The silence was haunting. giraffes, spoor, and footprints of hippos, leopards, and spring hares.
We walked for three and a half hours. I was getting weary. We saw an elephant ramming its head against a tree. The foliage at the top waved madly, dislodging fruit in the upper branches. This fruit makes the animals drunk. That tree whipped through the air like a feather. It was an amazing sight.
The next day, after a big breakfast, we learned how to pole the mokoro...don't hold on to the pole, or you will end up hanging to it for your life as there is deep mud on the bottom of the Delta. There was tea and the bush shower. We took another shorter trek through the surrounding veldt. Before dinner, I noticed everyone else was drinking tea, so I helped myself to hot water from the big camp kettle. Oops! One sip and I discovered the water was not hot. The teapot had just been filled from the marsh and hadn't boiled yet. I spit the tepid water out immediately, but it wasn't quick enough, as I will later discover.
After dinner, we sat around the campfire. Someone started singing "Take Me Home"
BUSHMEN AND GUIDE
There was so much information, I took mostly videos so I don't have a lot of photos. by John Denver. Then our hosts sang and danced. They were fantastic performers. Not to be outdone, Hubert danced around like a baboon, crouched down and swinging his arms. He lost his balance, fell on his bum, and laughed as much as the rest of us.
Glorious views, time to relax, extra tea. The only things missing were a massage and a nap. Several times during this outing, I imagined, "This is as good as it gets." What a joy!
We broke camp early the following day and were assigned boats for the return trip. Hubert and I were in Samson's boat. I was feeling happy and silly. Hubert got in first. I didn't want to sit for an hour and a half with wet feet, so I dived head-first into the mokoro from the dry sand. I almost missed the boat entirely, thumping into the skiff, skirt and feet flailing. One of the ladies in the group saw me in all my glory and snapped a photo. I sure would like to have a copy. The memory still makes me laugh.
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