So, the continuation of this topic was extended by one day, which meant we left on a Sunday. The roads were quiet, and the drive to Lobatse uneventful. The wait at the border was nice and short, the same cannot be said for the wait at the ATM in Lobatse, to stock up on the now stronger Pula. It seems month end Sundays are spent refilling empty wallets after Saturdays over-indulgence… the bloke in front of me certainly smelt like he had indulged in the amber fluid of eternal cleverness all night on Saturday.
It was hot… very hot. Apparently October in Bots is “suicide month”, and perhaps entering at the end of October and expecting cooler weather was either cheeky, or downright stupid. We cruised up to Kang, wishing I had sorted the aircon out, where we filled up with cheap petrol (R 9 something to the liter !! ), and for the first time ever, got fleeced into buying wet firewood. In a country that hasn’t had rain for months they must have searched hard to find wet wood. Then off to Kalahari Rest.. with plenty of livestock on and alongside the road…
Kalahari Rest turned out to be a very nice place and we opted for a chalet as we were quite knackered. The prices were reasonable, and included aircon and electricity. This would be the first dog encounter. We like animals, and for whatever reason, they seemed to find us in the strangest places. This pooch made an arrival in the dark, after we had been listening to the hyenas calling. Needless to say it was the fastest bloody move Nats and I had made all day when the pooch ran out off the dark, around the corner and onto the porch. Once my sphincter had returned to normal tension the dog and I had some playtime.
We woke up early, had coffee and said cheers to the dog. Fired up the bongi and headed north to Buitepos on the Namibian Border. Another hot day, and the beginning of my long list of excuses as to why we shouldn’t have the aircon fixed. This was a daily debate, which was never resolved even 22 days later: ”Imagine how hot it would be when we stepped outside the aircon car at the border love?”
We passed through with no problems, and headed to the metropolis of Gobabis. We camped at “Die Dam” campsite. Nice campsite, with clean, but small ablutions. The peace and serenity of the campsite was slightly marred by three blokes, obviously on an extended lunch break, blasting what sounded like a collaboration of Steve Hofmeyer mixed with heavy techno out of a little Opel, whilst practicing the age old sport of pap gooi on the other side of the dam. Perhaps they had hearing problems, or it might have been the brandy, but it was quite entertaining watching them trying to drunkenly catch ducks. Eventually Pa came and rounded them up for bath time and supper in his Hilux bakkie.
Again we were visited by the local dog – who we nicknamed Schnitzelhund, being German/Namibian after all.
After a good night’s sleep, and an interesting morning packing up. It would seem the avid pap gooiers from the day before had mentally scarred the geese, who decided to stage a mutiny at the bottom of our tent ladder, to revenge the previous days wrongdoings.
Once over their PTS issues we were on our way up the C30 to the Waterberg Plateu park. As usual, the Namibian roads are fantastic.
Just before Hochfeld, we saw a small dam with something on/in it. On closer inspection we were stumped to see that it was full of flamingo’s! Sorry, no pics, too far away and I have size issues (with my camera lens that is).
We arrived at the campsite, time for moan session #1: NWR (Namibian wildlife reservations or otherwise not working really). Dialogue as follows:
“No ice in the shop, but you can go fetch some up at the restaurant, we don’t have a freezer”. I asked him if one of the 300 NWR blokes racing around in open back vehicles, exceeding the speed limit, to please bring one bag down for me?”eish, click, eish….”. I eventually fetched it myself. It was here that I heard a phrase that pretty much describes the lack of urgency or care “cause after all, we are ripping you tourists a whole new ring piece in camping fees”. On collection of my bag of small ice cubes I was told “ the freezer is broken, but don’t worry, they are coming to fix it shortly….. next week ! ”Africa time, you gotta love it.
That evening, without meeting a dog, we were entertained by a group of hippie overlanders from Europe somewhere, doing some strange dancing in a circle to Johnny Clegg tracks blasting out a little CD player. The lip syncing was interesting, cause not only do they not know the words, some of them didn’t even speak English, let alone isiZulu. Then the John Lennon wannabe pulled out his six string guitar, and they proceeded to sing Kumbayaaa and other campsite hits around the fire. At least the lad could play the guitar, which was a damn sight better than their dancing and singing. I was quite happy to be on the road to Etosha the next day, but I couldn’t get that damn Johnny Cleg track out my head “Osiyeza, osiyeza.” – anyway, onwards and upwards through Otjiwarongo and Outjo to Okaukuejo. On the road we met an Eland calf who honestly thought he was a cow.
And finally the entrance gate…
After another frustrating NWR encounter at the gate we headed into the park. The campsite is okay, it has less shade than Nagasaki after the delivery of the “bomb”, but a great swimming pool, and a decent shop which had ice and other items. We headed out on a game drive and found this old bugger, nursing a giraffe that died of old age, seeing out his last days as an old male lion with no teeth.
On the way back to the camp, this dog (not the type I would be keen to play with) awoke from his culvert to go and scrounge around for dead things.