Botswana

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And so Namibia reluctantly came to an end as we returned our 4WD mobile tent home, and joined Wilddog Safaris to cross Botswana, Okavango Delta & into Zimbabwe to Victoria Falls.
Our first stop was in a remote village to collect supplies for the journey where a number of local Damara & Herero women, in ful traditional regalia including the 60cm horn like bonnet to match their edwardian like full length cotton dresses. They were quite becoming yet surely must be sweltering. They certainly looked quite at ease, proud and not in the least bit uncomfortable.

Our first night we spent at Dqare Qare San (bushman) Camp. The tents we erected in a semi circle around the fire & indulged on a feast fit for a king created by Mr T & Bongani over the fire that consisted of boerevors, pap (maize meal), mealies (corn on the cob), fruit salad with mangoes desert & coffee or tea ! Not bad for a first night !

I slept like a baby (other than a few wriggles under my sleeping bag mat throughout the night) until the early dawn squeezed into our tent at 6am. It was then that I discovered a toad had found the moisture under bed a great place to dig his refuge & rudely we had removed his top floor.
After another sumptuous African breakfast with tea & toast over the fire was nearing its end, a San (bushman) appeared oozing quietly out of the bush alongside our camp, to show how their people survive 8n a terrain that I might last but 1 day.
A quiet humble, simple man with immense knowledge of his environment passed down for generations. Everything had a purpose & yet he wanted for little. He glowed with amazing contentedness & in western terms owned so little, yet had everything he needed all around him, when he required it.
A small gentle, highly capable, humble and confident amazing being.

The road to the Okavango Delta was an ever vigilant tripof dodging, donkeys, cows, mules & dogs as here they wander freely (no fences) unencumbered. If however you unfortunately happen to collide with one - you pay (the owner) so considered as an immediate sale of said animal, with not even having to go to market or compete with other local traders. A win - win in their book !

Let me say at this point, ever since I can remember Okavango Delta has been no1 on my bucket list & we were now entering "Guma Lagoon Camp" & it outweighed even my wildest expectations. The camp sat on the lagoon delta bank, the pole & thatched boma/dining/bar/reception area looked onto a verandah that extended over the delta 'croc infested' lagoon, with uninterrupted views for miles. We sat down in the khaki canvas 'out of africa' chairs with a G&T, made conversation with some Canadians & soaked in the african sunset - sublime !

The next morning we were completing my childhood no2 dream, and taking a mokoro (canoe) into the delta itself.
We climb aboard the motorized dingy to get us to the reed beds & zip along speedily through the labyrinth maze of canals.
We arrive at the mokoros carelessly scattered up a marshy creek amongst the bushes. Our polers take us 2 each to a mokoro & pole silently, effortlereetssly through & sometimes over the reeds with the ease & expertise of a venetian gondolier.
Darters,shags, egrets, kingfishers, bee-eaters, blood red bishop birds, weavers, lily trotters, ducks, geese, hornbills, spoonbills, lapwings & of course the king of kinds The Fish Eagle - greet us noisily as we disturb their smorgasboard dining or break their concentration on their next meal.

Late afternoon on return to the mokoros there are (where there were none before) crocodiles of all sizes, everywhere. One we decided was playing chicken with us as to who would give way first, as we slowly glided up to his snout, but a mere metre away, in no hurry at all he casually downed his periscope (snout) and lay submerged just under the water. .....we left !
The word must have gone out, as we arrived back at camp and retired to our G&T's position at the lagoon deck, crocs popped up everywhere over the delta lazily sweeping S bends through the water, gliding past one eye lerringly on my drink & mine on his pleasantly cool home.

All this water and fading light, moved us to get showered before dinner in the boma. To our pleasant surprise, being dusk we could hear the bats squeezing out their pings to echo locate their dinner & owls beginning to hoot. All but naked in the open top, outdoor shower a wood owl lands not 6 inches from me next to the shower head. Flabbergast, I move inch by inch I move closer assuming at any moment he will be off - but not. After a number of cautious disapproving attempts to touch him he accepts a scratch & tickle behind the head being rather mesmerising & soothing, but nothing else. What a treat.
At dinner he joins all the guests in the roof rafters as the resident guard - glad I didnt have anything resembling a mouse on my plate.

Further east we overnight at a luxurious, chandelier'd entrance Camp Kwando & the next morning greet the beaming smiles of the kids, barefoot walking the sandy road tracks to school.
We get a great hands on experience from the local tribe in their village, showing us weaving grass mats and baskets, a working (in the coals) blacksmith, maize grinding for bread & porridge, ingenious animal & pest traps, witch doctor sangoma, tribal dancing and village life and traditions.
A sobering yet contradictory thought that here in Africa, some people that have so little compared with our western lifestyle, yet incredibly happy and content. In the same breath life itself seems to matter little, and death considered quite as a matter of course (be it from natural causes or not).

We now enter Chobe National Park and we have to slow to a crawl as we are welcomed by 20 elephant ambling casually across the road ahead of us, a herd of majestic sable antelope in the thicket alongside and the metre tall ground hornbill, with its scarlet red eye and neck wattle. Ah, Chobe are certainly turning on the warm welcome.

In complete contrast to Etosha being a sand pan desert park, Chobe could be best described as a wet jungle waterway park. Every afternoon a storm looms dark over the horizon, then rolls in on a howling gale, pushing furniture across decks, dumps torrential rain for an hour or two and disappears as quick as it arrived.

It was one of these such afternoons, absorbed in the daily happenings of all in Chobe, that we do not notice a very dark bank of clouds rolling towards us, whilst out boating, being absorbed by scenes like - sliding up to a massive old bull buffalo now not able to keep up with the herd any longer, and near bald, lazily snoozing in the shade at the waters edge. Elephants come down to quench their thirst in the clear waters and swallowed again in a blink by the bush, crocs seem oblivious of our presence as they seemingly sleep, mouth agape whilst small feathered dentists remove lost morsels between their teeth, hippos graze the riverbank grass then like tanks plough back into the safety of the river with their calves, when we might approach to close for comfort, fish eagles glide effortlessly talons outstretched to snatch an unsuspecting sunbathing fish to close to the surface.

When we do, we have to make a concerted dash back to camp, and only just make it back to the jetty, but are well drenched before making it back to camp.
Everyone dashed for cover, already soaked through, are huddled in the truck & eating their now spaghetti bolognaise 'soup' floating in their bowls, but exhilarated by the day's events.

We slept well and woke to get organised and prepare for the border crossing into Zimbabwe and Dr Livingston's Vic Falls. The border crossing took a little 'persuasion' by Mr T via the 'back door' to get us through and two hours later, we were on our way again.

Words cannot begin to describe the colossus that Vic Falls is. I had not realised it is in fact a series of hairpin S bends that drop 75m into the abyss below. This time of year was at 75% flow rate & deafening. I had also not realised that to hike to the view point, you are in fact only 50m from the face of the falls, at the same height (and not the bottom of the falls) from where they plunge over.
The torrential spray ejected 'up' the 75m crevasse and then deposited on the viewers, meant even in raincoats with umbrellas we were once again all drenced to the bone.
To dry off we walked over the knee wobbling high bridge and into Zambia (just because we could) with the endless stream of traders, bundles of goods precariously perched on their heads, passing back & forth in an attempt to eek out a living, whilst tourits throw themselves with a silly elastic band attached to their legs over the edge.

Goods in Zimbabwe (if you can get them) are expensive and in US $, so locals trade cross border goods in short supply on one side and vice versa for the return trip.

There are clouds constantly over Vic Falls crested by the ever present spray, so as the gentle 5knt breeze shifts and there is a clear break in visibility, we take a helicopter view of the falls, bringing into perspective the snake like twists & turns thst make up the falls system.
An awesome day, we walk to a cafe/bar perched on the cliff edge overlooking the down river course, a few km from the falls, and collect our thoughts over a few beers with Todd (an American teacher between jobs of 5 years in China on his way to 2 years in Taiwan).
Whilst mezmerised by the view we notice the bloated carcasses of a hippo and croc that have 'slipped' over the falls to their demise.

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