BY: CHEMONE CARPENTER | 2012-11-19
The very first time I ever came to the realization that I was going to be skydiving was literally when I was in the activity centre in Swakopmund, Namibia standing in the queue to pay for it … Yup… that was it, I’m doing this!
The next morning a group of us were collected in a small van and we headed off into the desert. There were quite a few of us and upon arrival at the hanger in the middle of nowhere in the Namibian Desert, we were greeted by another approximately 60 people all waiting for their chance to brave gravity and throw themselves out of a perfectly good aeroplane! Oh dear… What had I been thinking!
Everyone there was so supportive and happy and seemed to have no cares in the world at all, they had a small radio playing and it was very festive with everyone hiding their fears on the inside. They suited up, climbed into the plane, soared off into the sky and then one by one they jumped and landed… simple!
My turn next! The harness fitted snugly between my legs and under my arms, it was very tight and rightly so! They wormed me into the suit as I had to be as secure as possible to remain attached to them when we jumped out of the aeroplane. Harnessed up, all set and scared to death, off we went! My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, yet other than that I felt calm. We climbed into our little plane feeling like sardines as we launched into the air.
Looking back, and at the photos above, it really does look like I am over the moon to be travelling at snail speed in the smallest plane known to man, climbing to heights no one could ever fathom wanting to throw yourself out of?
Before I tell you what it is actually like to throw yourself out of the plane, I have to tell you that I did it again! Yes, I did it again… It is honestly the most amazing and truly amazing adrenalin rush you could ever dream of! My new goal is now, one jump a year!
I’ll try to get together the correct words for this phenomenal experience:
They slide you slowly to the edge of the plane, kick your legs out so that you are literally just hanging onto the front of your jump buddy on the outside of the plane. You look down and look around not really able to comprehend what you are about to do. He starts rocking you, taps your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up. 3…. 2… 1.. and off you go!!
You drop at an incredible rate with the wind blowing past you so quickly that through all the screaming and all the magical and expressive words you can possibly use in your 36 seconds of freefall, you are left with a very dry mouth, a heartbeat that feels like it is now on the outside of your chest and a smile that no one could ever take away from you! You did it! The sky is no more the limit! Conquered!
After my jump, I found this on the wall in Swakopmund Jump Club which is the best description of the life changing experience of throwing yourself out of an aeroplane!
You must jump to know, no words can describe the incredible rush when the wind invides you to play. You are one of the few. For a moment you doubt, but the doubt is short lived, as gravity pulls you from the safety of the plane you understand, this is freedom! No turning back now, but who would want to?? The dream of human flight. You know what it means to SKYDIVE!
Swakopmund is the adventure capital of Namibia and there are so many phenomenal activities to do here! You can visit Swakopmund on a number of our tours and experience all of these activities yourself! Here are a few of your options:
20 Day Vic Falls to Cape Town – available in the opposite direction
14 Day Vic Falls to Swakopmund (Desert and Delta) – available in the opposite direction
12 Day Cape Town to Windhoek (Namibian Experience) – available in the opposite direction
7 Day Cape Town to Swakopmund (Desert Explorer) – available in the opposite direction
I have been fortunate enough to participate in three scheduled tours with Nomad and decided it was time to share the experience with my friends, so we headed to Namibia for 10 days, on a private charter, booked through the Groups & Charters department. We decided February was the most convenient for us, taking into account our work schedules and for our overseas based friends to be able to join.
The route was simple, but most importantly included all the highlights Namibia has to offer, Orange River, Fish River Canyon, Namib-Naukluft Park, Sossusvlei, Swakopmund, Etosha National Park & Windhoek, or so that was what we planned & expected, what we got was the “unexpected”….
Heading North from Cape Town, we made our first overnight stop at the Orange River, now what I need to explain is that a few weeks before our trip, we received news of “heavy rains”, “not seen in decades” in Namibia. “Really? But it’s a desert, it never rains in a desert, does it?”.
Crossing the border between South Africa and Namibia, we had our first glimpse of the “heavy rains” and upon arrival at our overnight stop, we saw further evidence, but, we had blue skies, sunshine and the most delicious bobotie (a dish of curried mince with an egg custard baked on top) for supper, besides, we were on holiday, what’s a bit of heavy flowing water? As we had a mixture of camping & accommodated, the campers chose to sleep under the stars, while those that chose accommodated settled into their river facing bungalows for the night.
Our journey continued north, next stop Ai-Ais hot springs, tucked away in the southern end of the Fish River Canyon. The afternoon was relaxed with a few rounds of poker being played while the chicken potjie was on the go. As the evening approached, we all hopped on the truck and headed to the Fish River Canyon viewing site for a spectacular sunset, and spectacular it was! We spent about an hour hanging out at the Canyon viewing point just staring into the sunset and beyond.
Day three greeted us with a sprinkling of rain as we headed for the Namib-Naukluft National Park and our overnight spot, Sesriem. Every kilometre driven showed more evidence of the “heavy rains”, the normally dusty gravel roads were soaked, muddy and slippery which made for an interesting ride. The landscape was something I had never before witnessed – green, green, green. Having travelled to Namibia on many previous occasions with my family, I was used to the dry, arid landscape, I was in awe at the amount of water and the shrubbery and felt privileged to have been able to see the desert this way. Upon arrival at Sesriem, we pitched our tents, lit the fire and had an early night in preparation for our earliest morning and the climbing of Dune 45 at sunrise.
Sadly our dream of climbing Dune 45 did not materialise, the road into Sesriem and Sossusvlei was closed as the river had come down during the night which made the road impassable, however, this did not deter us as we made our way into Sesriem and found the next best dune called Elim dune. Taking all the huffing and puffing into account to get to the top of the dune, it was all well worth it. While we were up there, a hearty cooked breakfast was being prepared, which we gobbled down upon our return to the truck. Next stop… Swakopmund.
Now this is where the fun really began and the warnings of “heavy rains” started making sense. Just outside Solitaire we came across a number of cars parked in the road, the river was in full flow over the road and was impassable. Luckily there was a detour further back, so we backtracked and carried on our merry way, it was after all tea time and we were salivating just thinking about the famous Solitaire apple pie.
Take a moment to notice the beautiful blue skies, we opted to spend a few moments admiring this raging river and photographing it as we all thought it rather impressive. Finally, after our detour, we made it to our warm apple pie. If ever you find yourself in Solitaire, buy yourself two slices, one to eat while in Solitaire and the other to save for later, you will regret it if you don’t!
Now what I have not mentioned yet is that Sonny, our beloved truck, developed a disliking to the mud, rain and river beds which he had to pass through on the last two days, he was starting to choke up. But it was manageable as we would be in Swakopmund within a couple of hours and there Sonny could be sorted out and given a rest. Ready to leave Solitaire, we heard a couple of stories from the shop assistants that the Kuiseb pass was closed as the river was raging down, that is the only direct route to Swakopmund from Solitaire. In the meantime, another Nomad truck had pulled into Solitaire, and a second truck was well on his way to go and investigate the Kuiseb situation. We decided to follow truck #2 and investigate the Kuiseb pass, after all, we wanted our photo at the Tropic of Capricorn which was in the same direction, so off we went, poor Sonny huffing and puffing along.
While having our pics taken at the Capricorn sign, in the distance we saw truck #2 coming back, not a good sign, he was headed back to Solitaire as Kuiseb was full of debris and there was a strong build up of water. Back in Sonny, we turned around and headed back to Solitaire, once there we would plan our next move. Heading back to Solitaire, we saw the reality of the situation right before our eyes! A huge big rain storm was in front of us and we were heading straight for it.
Sonny had now decided enough was enough and he was going to wait while the rain passed, so we decided to wait with him. While our guide and driver attended to the problem, we watched as the storm moved over and so the downpour began. Who would have thought that a river could form within five minutes!
It was late afternoon and we were still waiting in Solitaire, would we still make Swakopmund? The baker of the famous apple pie had just heard a rumour that there was a grader down in Kuiseb busy moving debris and the pass would be open soon. Truck #2 headed back down to the Kuiseb Pass. Sonny was still being stubborn, so we waited. Truck #1 in the meantime also decided to leave, after consultation with our operations department, they headed to Swakopmund via Windhoek on the C24. By now it was probably around 15:30, our guide proposed the alternative, that we follow truck #1 to Windhoek and onto Swakopmund, which meant arrival in Swakopmund would be late, very late. We all agreed to and were very happy with this plan (we had big plans in Swakopmund, we packed the snowboard to play on the dunes and we had a birthday to celebrate).
Off we headed towards the C24, cellphone reception was dodgy while we were making our way through the mountains, so only about an hour into the drive, our C24 journey came to an abrupt end as a message was received from Tosca, our beloved operations manager “STOP, C24 has been closed – road in bad condition, do not proceed” (in case you were wondering, Sonny had since been given a good talking to and was happy to continue). We all stood there, in the mud in the middle of nowhere, speechless. Our operations department had already put Plan B into motion, we would be backtracking to a lodge just between Sesriem and Solitaire.
Getting to our Plan B overnight stop was without incident, back through the mountains, past the detour and so we arrived. Lucky to have a beautiful sunset and a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon – a waterfall in the surrounding desert mountains! Yes, a waterfall in the middle of the desert, how many people can honestly say they have seen a waterfall in the desert of Namibia? After a long day on the road, well, over 500km, 10 hours in and out of Sonny, we ended up 47km from Sesriem, where we had started that morning.
After a group meeting, we all agreed that to go to Swakopmund would no longer be realistic and therefore opted to proceed north, to the gates of Etosha National Park, which would mean we would have more time to explore Etosha and relax. The C24 had been opened and off we went, quick shop stop in Windhoek and onto Outjo where we spent the night in Plan C accommodation.
And so we entered Etosha National Park and the game viewing started immediately. Over the next few days, we would encounter an old male elephant, 2 packs of lions, a rhino and her calf at the watering hold in Halali, antelope and various bird species. And what would a trip to Etosha be without a stop on the pans themselves.
After 2 wonderful days of sunshine, spending hours staring at the campsite waterholes, we said goodbye to Etosha and headed back South to Windhoek, which would be our second last night of our tour. While we only had one night in Windhoek, we chose to spend this evening at Joe’s Beer House, enjoying a great meal.
Our second last day of tour saw us taking the long drive back down to the Orange River, back to where our journey had begun 8 days earlier. Having had a late night out in Windhoek, the morning felt a bit rough, so I thought it would be a good idea to slip on my three quarter pyjama pants and travel in those, after all, it was going to be a long day in the truck and comfort was my number 1 priority.
Just outside a town called Rehoboth we pulled off to the side of the road to have a quick “bathroom” stop, making use of bathroom #3 (which for those that have travelled with us before will know is a bush toilet), you look for a bush and squat. Myself and two others eyed out the perfect spot and off we went through the ankle high grass. All of a sudden, there is a scream and my name being called! With a “WTF” expression on my face, I turned around to my friend who was waving her hands and screaming wildly, yet no words came out her mouth.
In the movement of me turning around and my “WTF” face – something became entangled in my legs, natural instinct told me to start screaming, jump, shake my legs and run!! S.N.A.K.E!! Aha, that is what my friend was trying to warn me about! I stood on a snake and apparently not a small one either. The moral of the story, never wear your pyjama pants when in the bush!
And so we arrived at the Orange River, our final night of our adventure. Exhausted, we had a refreshing swim followed by copious amounts of red wine, reminiscing about our last 9 days. Our last day saw us head back to Cape Town. Our wonderful, memorable adventure had come to an end, but that was not the last adventure, as soon, we would be heading to Mozambique to start a brand new adventure!
Join us on and adventure of your own! Contact our Groups and Charter department if you’d like to build your own tour: email@example.com
If you would prefer to join us one one of our scheduled tours to experience Namibia – we have a whole selection for you!
20 Day Vic Falls to Cape Town – available in the opposite direction
14 Day Vic Falls to Swakopmund (Desert and Delta) – available in the opposite direction
12 Day Cape Town to Windhoek (Best of Namibia) – available in the opposite direction
7 Day Cape Town to Swakopmund (Desert Explorer) – available in the opposite direction
BY: ANNELIESE KORSCH | 2012-10-29
One of our guests, Caroline Kullendorff, very kindly let me steal some of her photos from her Facebook page to give you a better idea of what to expect when coming on a camping tour with us to see the Masai Mara and Uganda’s Silverback Mountain Gorilla… This is part one of her tour, from Nairobi to Kampala
Stay tuned for Part Two!!
- Mambo Jambo Masai Mara – Masai Mara National Reserve, Kenya (travelpod.com)
- Lions of the Masai Mara – closer than ever before (greatcatsoftheworld.wordpress.com)
- Masai Mara Kenya – A Memorable African Safari Getaway (boldstate.com)
We pass the town of Alice, seeing the University of Fort Hare where Nelson Mandela and other well-known politicians studied. We then made our way on to Grahamstown, well known for it’s annual Arts Festival in July, but this time we just stopped for groceries for the next few days.
Time flies so quickly and my last stop on this tour is the Addo Elephant National Park. Heading to the park we see Private Reserves along the highway and spot giraffes sitting on the ground (as there was clearly no threat to them). We wait for a train to cross in front of us before we enter the park. The keys for our chalets are collected and we make our way with Ella to our accommodation. We were handed the keys and I had chalet 41, luggage off-loaded and I made my way to my own chalet. WOW!! I just smiled. It was just so beautiful. The double bed looked out onto a balcony overlooking the other chalets and the parks forests ahead.
After I took in the comforts of my room I quickly freshened up as we were to meet at the camping site to have lunch. En route to lunch, I stopped over at the bird hide looking for interesting birds; walked over to the waterhole when a Kudu made its way down to the hole and I discovered that there was even an underground hide. It was a lovely stroll to the camping site where Rimson was setting the lunch table. Sven asked me if I would like to see a snake and I said yes! Yes!! I took my camera as we headed behind the truck…and there was the snake …a rubber snake! There were independent travellers from South Africa and being regulars to Addo, they were aware of the Vervet monkeys that roamed the area in search of the food. Apparently they stay away when they see the snakes ‘strategically’ placed around the couple’s cool kitchen camp setup.
Addo National Park is in the malaria-free Eastern Cape province of South Africa which is great for travellers who are pregnant or travelling with children. There are elephants, lions, black rhinos, buffalos, leopards, zebra, and a variety of antelope and bird species in Addo. I was very excited for my game drive. After lunch, we collected our water bottles and jackets (as it started getting chilly). All eagerly waiting with our camera’s and binoculars, we had to be back in camp as the gates closed at 18h30.
In distance we could see a herd of about 50 elephants crossing the road and heading to a waterhole. Johannes slowly made his way and parked so that we could all get a view of the herd and admire these graceful creatures. Elephants are my favourite animals so I was over the moon to see so many of them drinking water and watching the mothers look after the little ones. The interaction of the herd was fascinating from bulls playing with each other to the little ones watching their mom’s every move and being camera shy. Catching a glimpse or a snap of them was so difficult as they were almost always hidden behind their Mom.
It starting drizzling as we made our way to the other waterholes where we saw more elephants and more…we must have seen at least 150 elephants so far. The park was originally established to protect the remaining African elephants in Addo and it is doing a good job by conserving these majestic mammals.
We make our way to the gates to find Rimson to see if he has managed to fight off the monkeys near the kitchen camp, everything looks well protected from their cheeky little hands. Dinner is ready and is smelling great! We all sat under the canvas awning, drawn from the side of the Nomad truck and talked about the game drive. It was a beautiful calm night and sadly, my last dinner with the group. I was truly going to miss the African road. It is something so special that every South African or lover of the wild should experience.
An early morning as we get ready for our game drive at 6am. We saw zebra with their young, black backed jackals, kudu, ostriches, a buffalo, Red Hartebeest, warthogs, Leopard Tortoises and a scrub hare. No luck with lions or leopards today but hey, I got to see my elephants.
We stopped for breakfast at Jack’s picnic site to fill our stomachs. We were now making our way to the exit of the park driving to the Southern Gate to reach the N2. Goodbye Addo see you again, soon I hope!
I reached Nomad’s post tour accommodation, the Eltham Lodge in Port Elizabeth at about 12h00. A well located guest house about 5 minutes away from the airport and walking distance to the beachfront.
Port Elizabeth is known as the friendly city and it is where I had to say goodbye to my family as they headed to Tsitsikamma National Park to end their tour in Cape Town. I truly wished I was going to see more of my own beautiful country.
I met great people, had good fun, learnt more than I could have imagined and can’t wait for my next Nomad Adventure Tour…. see you on the road fellow nomads!
Day three of the tour was a long driving day as we made our way to Lesotho. We crossed from the KwaZulu Natal Province to the Free State Province in South Africa. We drove through one of South Africa’s untouched and I think most beautiful national parks – the Golden Gate National Park – it’s name came about from the sunsets and sunrises in the area, when the sun shone on the rocks it reflected a golden colour.
Stunning mountain cliff formations and the various layers of the rock could be seen as the colours changed from layer to layer. There is a pass in the park where we reached the height of 2041m. It was a quick drive through the park before lunch was served, we still had to get through the border. Rimson, our guide, found a comfortable grassy space and we all got out and started helping with the lunch preparations. The camping chairs were stored underneath the truck and the Nomad family helped with setting them out and taking the table out – which is stored in the back of the truck where we clean, wash and cut the fruits and vegetables. It is actually quite amazing how much Ella, the truck, could hold and store within her.
The border crossing process lasted about 45minutes. On the Lesotho side there was a man and this huge book where he wrote all of the foreign nationalities details from their full name, passport number, date of birth, expiry and necessary information. On the South African side a simple scan of the passport was efficient with high tech (relative to Lesotho only) scanners. One of the travellers on tour had quite a long name, Gerarda Williamena Maria Cloudmans so the gentleman was in a troubled spot as he tried to fit her entire name into a small block and still needed to fill in her other information – this was quite amusing for us. For South African travellers, there was just a simple stamp and I moved on, back to the truck. Benefits of having a South African passport – moving faster in queues when travelling in Africa.
Dumelo – greetings in Basotho. The Kingdom of Lesotho, land of Basotho culture, a landlocked country in the centre of South Africa. I found the people to be very caring, friendly and proud of their nation. When you see photos of Lesotho, a common picture are the men wearing colourful woollen blankets and grass hats in the fields. Before entering Malealea we stopped for a photo stop on the rim of the valley which was called Gates of Paradise (2001m high). It is the gateway to the Malealea valley which is in the remote part of western Lesotho.
On arrival at the Malealea lodge, we were informed that there was a generator for electricity from 5pm to 10pm so torches or headlamps are a must to bring along to find your way through the night. Our cook headed straight into the kitchen to prepare dinner. After dinner, we played Uno and headed to our rooms for an early start of more adventure.
Today Ella rested again. We could choose from a selection of hikes according to our fitness and a group of us headed to the Botsoela Waterfall Hike. This is about a four hour hike down into the base of the valley along a river bed. It was raining for a few days so the rocks were wet and slippery so I slid around in the mud quite a lot which was all part of the adventure. A hat, raincoat, sunscreen, water and snacks again were important on this route. Depending on the number of hours hiked the fee is paid to the local Basotho guide. Pony trekking is another activity that is well known and can be done in the valley.
Luckily, the weather held up for us but as we headed up the valley it starting drizzling. After lunch a visit to the Malealea village was organised. Three Basotho’s took us into their village and showed us their local store, shops, craft centre, school and museum which was housed in a traditional Basotho hut.
Heading back to the lodge, in the games centre, the Malealea City Choir (MCC) sang a few songs and then a local music band called Sotho Sounds entertained us, using their home constructed instruments. It was a great way to interact with the locals by dancing to the rythyms of the Malealea. Great fun was had by all as we joined in with dancing to the African beats.
I awoke to the sounds of peacocks calling each other so it was a great African wake up call. At breakfast, the sun rose above the valley and the two male peacocks were actually doing a face-off against each other showing off to the female who was not interested as she was nowhere to be seen. Typical men haha!
After our 6am breakfast, we drove out of the valley passing Basotho children going to school waving and shouting hello to us. This day was another long distance driving day as we needed to make our way to Hogsback. Passing van Rooyens border post, the town of Wepener and road works you could expect to have delays of up to 30 minutes. We passed through Aliwal North, stopped at Queenstown for a break and on to the town of KathKath where we took a gravel road – like our guide said – Ella was going for an African massage – as the truck usually experiences big bumps on the gravel roads.
As we proceeded, we could see mist hovering over the hills in front of us. As we popped over the top of the hill, we could see a valley filled with mist and trees – it was a forest of the unknown ahead – a tranquil chill hung in the air. We entered deeper into the magical forest to our lodge. I can see where Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings author, found his inspiration. We continued to meander through the green lush forests, eventually reaching the quaint town of Hogsback. A mysterious town with a restaurant called ‘Enchanting Eatery’; hair studio called ‘Hair on the Hogs’; a hostel called ‘Away with the fairies’; chalets called ‘Never Daunted’ and a whole lot more! Well, at least the place where we were staying sounded a little more realistic, Kings Lodge, it definitely lived up to its name! A warm and extra comfortable bed, what more could I ask for more!
At Kings lodge, there is a fireplace in the reading room combined with a pool table and an outside deck to enjoy the sunshine. Some of us played card games and others became amateur to intermediate pool players. Dinner was served inside and again, Rimson’s food was delicious! After dinner, we were briefed on the activities we could do the following day.
After breakfast, we walked through the town, only realising then that the town of Hogsback sleeps on a Tuesday as it is their day of break from being open throughout the weekend. Reaching Hogsback Arboretum we strolled through the Garden of Trees from all over the world including 5 Californian Redwoods over 100 years old. It was a gentle walk to the beautiful 39 Steps Waterfall.
Hogsback is nestled on the slopes of the Amatola Mountains with centuries old forests around you – magical forests making it a place I will return to very soon.
Next, we move further into the Eastern Cape, stay tuned for my next update!
- An overland adventure full of hiking activity and beautiful scenery (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
Our in-house designer at Nomad African Trust, Shannon Fletcher, has put together packs of super cute Christmas Cards! Cards don’t come cheaper these days than R20 for a pack of 4 cards. All of the proceeds of the cards will go directly to the Helderberg Animal Welfare Society, start the spirit of Christmas giving by buying some of these cards from us. We have boxes of them available at the Greenmarket Square office, please support this initiative, the animals will definitely appreciate it.
I am sitting at home, unpacked, washing machine going merrily (with possible clogged pipes tomorrow, full of desert dunes), the dogs have now licked every available piece of skin they could find on my feet and legs, and the blurry photos have been deleted.
I know, I know, you’re thinking, what happened to Darling? Little known fact, I actually lived in Darling for years, and have a house there, where my mom lives. So I went to Darling, I just did not visit Evita. I forced my poor mom to sit through 1784 photos, which took me an hour to setup on the laptop as a slide show (and don’t be shaking your head now, we have all put poor unsuspecting souls through this same torture of a pictorial review of our just completed holiday!). Mom is 81. Ten photos later, she was yawning, and recalling when my Dad could not buy cool drink at the Lamberts Bay Hotel, because he was not wearing a tie. This was in 1950. And by photo 1531 she was actually nodding away.
She snapped right out of that again when I mentioned that my writing has been put on the internet. “How did you get it there?” she asked. Well, I have this dongle thing, it is like calling on a cell phone, but instead of using my voice, it sends text. “Yes, but how did you get it to land on the internet?” I emailed it to the office, and they pasted it on there. “No, that’s not possible, there’s no cable or aerial. So, how did you get it on there?” Ok, Mom, focus. My stuff was on the internet, don’t worry how I got it there. And people I don’t know read it. “How did they know to read it? Did somebody call them?”. Laugh all you want, you try and explain the internet, and wireless, and Facebook to somebody who worked in DOS years ago for two months! And now she wants to buy a laptop, so she can find recipes and needle point patterns on there. She can barely send an sms yet! I am keeping myself out of that little debacle!
Luckily, my brother is one of the people who actually read this, so there was no need to explain this to him. But he is actually a Mr Twitcher. He has 14.5 bird books and promptly downloaded all my photos, and is most probably sitting as we are speaking, identifying all the shots I took of avian life in the Kalahari! And he faithfully read my story every day: Hey Boet!
The recap done with the family I now sit and reflect on my absolutely Epic adventure.
I met some amazing, and odd people! The game spotters in the Kalahari, some from close, some from far, all were there with one purpose, to see wildlife. In each other or in the bush there are questions not fully answered yet, but still.
The two drunk Frenchmen, who took their lives in their own hands by getting out of their car next to lions, and to offer me drinkies, after I sat in the sun for three hours next to said Lions.
The people of Kenhard, who stepped into the 21st century, and had their first interracial wedding the evening I was there and let me tell you, it was a big makietie! I actually also met a true wildlife photographer, Hannes Lochner, from the back seat of a land cruiser, but still, I met the man, I saw his photos, and let me tell you, he actually lives permanently in the Kgalagadi. One can see that. Ok, I did not actually meet him per se, more like waved at him. He would not know me from a bar of soap!
Then the crazy kayak people from Khamkirri, who really fell with their career bums in the butter, seeing as they live right next to the river where they can practice and enjoy their passion! Kayaking you sickos!
One can say I nearly met Lord Milner’s wife. Thank goodness I did not! And one can say I nearly met the Polish space people as well, but seeing as they do it all remotely from Poland, also not.
I am very sure I met an Alien, but they wiped my memory after they did the tests and stuff, and concluded that there is intelligent life down here!
The seafood man from Lamberts Bay, the laughing locals in Brandvlei, farmer Jnr and his dog, the perpetually late gate keeper at Kgalagadi, the old man with the road phobias at Hyundai in Upington, and all in all, most of the road workers between Keimoes and Kakamas!
The places were a revelation, and yet strangely familiar! Perhaps because I have been to most of the places before but every time, is a new time with new sights and smells. I am still looking for the broken bottle of shampoo in my car, but the smell is apparently the Katbos and Kambroo bushes from the Karoo, and not shampoo! The Bullet and I traveled from Cape fold mountains, to flat stretches with bicycle warning signs, to deep red sand dunes, and flat salt pans, all with its own appeal and enough space to actually have a thought or two. We also had very nice acoustics, hence missing the V8 engine sounds for half a day! And I swear, the higher up in altitude one goes, the higher one can sing as well. I could reach that one spectacular note with Alphaville! A couple of times. And I am technically classified as a tenor, more like James Earl Jones after the ciggies and the vodka drinking from my youth. Like Rebroff in his hey day! But I hit that high note (also nearly popped a vein in the process)!
Animals. More Animals. The strange, the furry, the bald, the evil, the lazy and the funny! My personal heroes, officially, the fantastically brave suricates! They surpassed the wild dog, cheetah, and hyena in my affection now. No other animal poses as well for photos, pulls the weirdest faces, and just generally are soo busy, they don’t have time to just sit back and hide in bushes. Oh, and the Mice. Man, the smallest little things, but Braveheart is nothing compared to them. They should really paint their faces blue as well.
And the animals were not contained to the Kgalagadi. No, baboons at du Toits Kloof, rock hyraxes next to Tankwa Karoo, raptors on telephone lines all over, seagulls, and attacking Kelp Gulls on the coast, and I even saw a klipspringer close to Citrusdal. And not to mention the one gazillion locusts who bravely died, in full battalions, on a 100km stretch in the karoo.
I do hope the two frogs from Sutherland got the feeling back in their legs, after sleeping under me for a night.
Not to forget the livestock. Chicken, geese, donkeys, peacocks, sheep (different types as well) goats, dogs, cats, cattle, emus and some horses.
And then there was Damien. My friend, the narcissist, mirror crashing bat straight out of a Meatloaf song!
I think of doing a list of what I did see, I should perhaps note what I did not see!
My final thoughts after all this excitement: One should never go on holiday with big expectations. No place, person or event would ever be able to live up to that which one built up in the head. Expect to see a nice tree, that way, the crocodile hanging from the elephants tail, while singing karaoke, will be more visible under the tree!
One should always pack medicine, that way you won’t get sick while on holiday. It is when Murphy comes calling because you have no stomach remedies, or flu medicine that things become a little on the uncomfortable side.
Prepare for the coldest ever, and think summer holiday. It takes double the space in the car, but, you won’t be caught wrapped up in your beach sarong, beach towel, oil rag and three pairs of jeans, with dishtowels around the feet, and having to shove your hands into live coals to get some heat going!
Don’t look for the big things. Keep the eyes open, the imagination running, and make up stuff in your head!
And watch out for Aliens, ghosts, and all things that can make an appearance in a Spielberg film.
(And note to self, I watch way too many movies!)
Things I have learnt:
I need to take more leave.
Unusually, after a stint like this, I do not regret not going to work for San Parks. If I did, I would still be there, and not be able to tell anybody any off this, as it would be every day. This way, I could tell everybody about my Epic Adventure, ad nauseum (the Latin rears its ugly head again).
Bullet is not a 4×4.
My tops become shorter, the more I eat! I am practically wearing a boob tube today!
And I have the coolest job of all times! I can go do stuff like this, write about it, have people go oe and aah, and still have a job when I come back!
I am back at work, broke and heart sore. But in my dreams I am running with the cheetah, lying on sand dunes, and driving a rally car on a deserted stretch of a two lane dirt track through the Karoo. With not a care in the world. In my dreams I am strapped to the roof of a Landrower, and some khaki clad Marlboro man is calling me Ms Slovakia!
In my dreams…..
( Hene, all dramatic ne!)
Please contact me on firstname.lastname@example.org for any information on the 9 Day, Cape Town to Cape Town, Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour, we would love to have you on board with us!
You will not believe this! Serious, what can the weather and South African roads still throw at poor Bullet! Seeing as farmers sleep on Sundays in Nieuwoudtville, and I agreed to the 6 am meeting, outside the town, I am up with first chicken fart (hehehe, considering the welcoming committee chicken at the camp site the previous evening)! I get all my stuff into Bullet, and on trying to start it, I see some dew on the window and put the windscreen wipers on. Guess what, it is not dew, it is ice! And a heavy layer of ice! What more can Bullet face was my question. So it took half an hour to get the ice defrosted! Off to the farmer meeting I went. 13km outside town, and thanks to the lovely rain the previous day, the full 13km of dirt road (you guessed it) was muddy and full of holes. That took a while.
The meeting with the farmer started off with the big farmer’s dog of 6 months, coming out to meet me. Please picture this, a dog, belonging to a farmer. You are seeing a massive bull mastive, or like horse dog or some such ne? Hah, Miniature Doberman Pinscher! Seriously! This was the most ridiculous sight of all times! But, in this dogs head, he was a Bullmastiff. In his mind, he was Goliath. He promptly lifted his leg against Bullet’s tyre, and although it was only two drops that actually found target, and the other three drops that landed on the Pinschers back leg, he looked as if he just peed the whole of the water capacity of the Mississippi on the tyre! Proudest moment of his life. And his owner’s thoughts on the whole thing? Ya, sometimes he is what we call a sample.
But, true to the farmer’s word, he was up, dressed, and apparently went on the first run to find missing lambs already by the time I showed up. He just failed to locate the sugar pot. I know, not a problem to face at 6 am in morning. When I say farmer, it is actually farmer Jnr. Dad and Mom were somewhere in the house, so loud screaming ensues, about who saw the sugar pot last. Bathroom doors opened, and there is furious searching under furniture (I am thinking, what does this family do with sugar? As my search would have been contained to the kitchen area). No, says farmer Jnr, this pot can be anywhere. I offer to go get the sugar in my food box in the car, but as I get up, the sugar pot is located, in the kitchen zinc! I told you, contain kitchen item searches to the kitchen. I won’t find the garden hose in the bathroom, for instance, so why waste time, by looking there?
I really wish that one could translate Nieuwoudtville Afrikaans to the same intonation, and sentence construction in English. But, I can’t even translate it into Afrikaans. Needless to say, I laughed a lot on this hour long sojourn (see, now I am getting way too confident. English done, moving on to Mandarin. Sorry, French). I also actually learnt a lot too, about farming, and when lambs can take a ram without it being slightly sick and under aged, and about the biggest danger to sheep farmers. On this I got a very short, one sentence answer: Do not even think about bringing a match close to me. So, apparently fire. Then I made the mistake to ask if they then prepared for veld fires with a fire break: “Oe, noooo, I said, don’t even bring a match close to here”! But, even with English being a compulsory subject in schools, poor farmer Jnr’s biggest concern, these people we are going to bring for this tour, are they from overseas? Mostly yes, I said. Long silence. Then the next question, “So, they speak English?”, “Yes”, I say, “mostly”. Again, long silence. Then comes the clincher. “Well, then we have a problem. The last time I spoke English was the 9 months I spent in Australia. And I had to take my cousin with to help with the translation”. So it seems that we will be running the Kalaroo tour with at least one Afrikaans speaking guide to help translate for farmer Jnr!
His last question to me was, “ so, how much should I charge you for this per person”!
Absolutely priceless! I actually did learn a lot, and besides the 20 gates we had to open and close, found it a thoroughly enjoyable time spent! I would recommend though for clients to rather ask farmer Jnr questions. He is of course not a guide, but he is passionate about farming, so you ask him one question, he starts going like Old Faithful! Spouting all kinds of interesting farmer trivia and logistics, and points excitedly in the direction of his uncles farm, about 200km that way, who tried that new thing with the grass sustainability etc etc. Again, priceless. But remember, please ask him questions, otherwise the hour is going to be very quiet. In Afrikaans.
Now as I came into Nieuwoudtville late afternoon, and felt slightly attacked by silence, I decided to rather leave my explorations of the town for this morning. I did a drive through, in both directions, as well as photo shoot of most of the buildings, and that took about 5 minutes! No, really. Although the church was absolutely beautiful! On the side of the church is a marble headstone type thing and on it, in very High Dutch, the following message (not verbatim). O, hene, now I am throwing Latin! Message on marble slab: “This is to remember the 11 000 pounds sterling debt that the congregation of this church paid back after a long struggle, of which the 11000 pound debt was incurred completely by accident, and was nobody’s fault” In Marble! Seriously!
It was finally time to take my leave of Nieuwoudtville and get back into the Western Cape province which happened somewhere on Van Ryns pass, that is not a pass. It is a nearly vertical downward spiraling road! Massive decline/incline. I really wanted to take photos, but I doubt if Bullets handbreak would have kept holding if parked on that for more than 5 minutes! I rather went down.
Lamberts Baai! Yayaya! The last time I saw Lamberts Bay, I was still in diapers. So, about 16 or so? Lamberts Bay was named after a guy called Lambert. That is about what I do know, and even that might be incorrect, but this is one weird ass town. The information centre also serves as entry to the graveyard! The Nature Reserve is also a putting range, and the restaurants are mostly all closed until December, when they make their years profit, and leave it at that! And the Lamberts Bay Hotel faces out onto the fish factory that totally covers the beautiful view of the harbour with its colourful fishing boats. So, I had some trepidations (Oh hell, it is now becoming out of hand, this English thing!), but what an absolute breath of fresh air. As I walk in, they know who I am, without me opening my mouth. Out comes the owner of the Hotel and takes me on a walk through. She has owned the hotel for more than 10 years, and is slowly busy with upgrades. Most of the rooms were looking beautiful, tastefully decorated, bathrooms comparing favourably with a boutique hotel, and not a snobby tone to be found anywhere. All the staff greeted me, every time I walked past, even the two parrots in the lobby greeted me! The hotel cat was a bit old, and just opened one eye slightly. See, I am a sucker for service. Even if the place looks like the return of Mad Max, with friendly staff, a lot of battles can be won.
Now listen, this is Lamberts Bay. One can’t expect the Lord Nelson, and frankly, I prefer this type of setting and place to the big fancy ones, where you feel you are definitely using the wrong fork and where you are not sure if you should tip the eyebrow plucker or not, or if that was included in the R900, 10 minute job.
Nice food, comfy bed, normal people working there, wearing normal uniforms, not starched spaceship shirts, and this is the place for us normal people to go.
Oi, now I waxed lyrical. Not that they can’t be fancy, I got a full cheese/olive/snack platter in my room, with garnish, and the correct knife and, two point plugs was not like a non spending American President. It was actually readily available! That is unusual.
Enough, Enough, Enough! Bloody nice place.
The rest of Lamberts scared me a little, also scarred me a little! I went to check out the camp site, the bathrooms can use some work, and, with sea sand, not a lot of grass. But there were a lot of workers about, on ladders, and with paint cans, so I am assuming they are sprucing it up. But, just in case, I went on a search for some alternatives (one never knows if space might become a problem). I was zipping through town like a soccer mom, campsite to campsite. In this zip through, I actually drove into somebody’s yard, just outside town. Seeing that I was there, I decided to take some photos in any case. I think the family was hiding behind the living room furniture. I discovered a great outdoor restaurant with a Prickly Pear plant with flowers! Pretty!
Off I went again, calling ahead to warn the hotel of my imminent arrival, and unfortunately, Muisbosskerm was not open for this evening, but they did have a couple of hours open over lunch time, so off I went there as well!
Very rustic, all outside restaurant. But I have to say, one of the owners made me slightly upset. He sprouted all kinds of facts and figures (rated one of the worlds best seafood restaurants in National Geographic was one of them), but then he kept on mentioning one of our competitors, and how they always come in there, and how they get a special rate, and did he mention when that Other-Company-Who-We-will-Not-Mention comes here, blah blah blah! Listen, buddy, we are not that Other-Company-Who-We-Will-Not-Mention. We are Nomad Africa Adventure Tours, and we’re going to rock this route! Demmit! But, I kept my conversations in my head and just smiled at him. That’s fine, he will see! But the food did look amazing, although primarily seafood, which is not my first, or even tenth love. But they also do have meat, and vegetarian meals, and fresh bread, and dessert and all. Great! Clock in at 6pm, and food stops at 9pm, an orgy of eating!
With all the work parts done, I went for a walk about to Bird Island, behind the town harbour. Crossing the harbour wall, where, as the gate keeper said, the ocean is a bit upset, but I should be fine walking over it. Hmmmm, but true, on the first section of Bird island, is a sign board warning tourists about Kelp Gulls, who can get a little upset if one walks too close to their nests, and will then attack. Yes, I say in my head, bloody tourists. One has to put up boards to warn them to not go traipsing through the short grass and then I forget all about this little, very apt and valid warning and see gazillions of Malgas birds (Cape Gannet)! The smell! The Noise! OMG, chaos in a very small space, with some seals trying to stay cool a little further away on the rocks. With that amount of things to aim at, I took a constant barrage of photos, and had to physically stop myself! Ridiculously pretty, crazy chaos!
Off I go on the walking trail again, I have been going a bit artsy on my photos the last couple of days, I spot a perfect opportunity for a contrasting photo of the water breaking bollards and waves. So I am pulling my body this way and that, and go down on one knee, and one elbow, to get the low to high angle, with camera bag abandoned on the side, when the next thing, a male Kelp Gull attacks from above! They warned me! I abandon ship, fall flat down, in gull poop, scream like a girl, and this monster attack gull plays the role of all 3 000 birds in Hitchcock’s movie. Hitchcock should have cast this guy! He was relentless! He was vicious, he was a Spartan Kelp Gull, he would fight to the end! All this while wifey calmly stays on her nest, about one hand span away from me.
I leopard crawled away, a bald spot on my head from attack one, dragging my camera bag behind me. Bloody tourist!
Lamberts Bay is charming, funny, and a little odd.
Have you booked your spot on this tour yet? Don’t miss your opportunity to experience these wonderful places with Nomad Africa Adventure Tours – details about the tour here! 9 Day, Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour.
Grab a pen and paper, or your iSheet, tablet? If nothing else close at hand, a coal from last nights braai. I am about to give you very sound, thorough advice. If you are going to come and experience the Kalaroo adventure, pack a beanie, and a scarf, and gloves, and mittens, and polar socks. Also, pack your minus 200 degrees parka. Did I mention a beanie? Scrap that, pack a balaklawa! It Is Cold! Enough said.
My morning started with the sound of a softly flowing Orange River behind my tent, and little birds cheeping… and the absence of my fingers. I first thought I forgot them somewhere again, but it is just the cold. Numbingly cold, cold. With Visions of Sutherland, I pack up the paper tent, which actually stayed quiet last night. It can also be that the Farmers Association party drowned out the sound of the Encyclopedia Britannica being crumpled up. Oh, yes, write this down as well. Do not, under any circumstances, pitch your tent a metre from the main reception/dance hall. You might have some problems with drunk farmers tumbling over your tent on the way to their carefully pitched, 1 km away, tents. And if you should have a party the previous evening, then rather pitch your tent close to a light source, and close to where you are having your party. I think I saw one farmer on the opposite side of the Orange River, sleeping on the banks, hugging a reed. I of course, slept the sleep of the dead, and, thanks to my careful wake up training from the Kalahari, woke up at 5h30 AM, with a vague desire to have some coffee.
Two hours later, I was skulking around, trying to sniff out anybody with a little caffeine in their tents. Maybe hidden in the toilet tank. Perhaps the bar has a secret lock, and inside they store the best mocca ever. Coffeeeee! Please, just inject it straight into the veins. Finally some of the kitchen staff shows up, and I try and pull my best, “Oh, look at this poor thing, one can clearly see she needs a cup of coffee” look. To no avail. They most probably thought I had indigestion. Then I thought, if I can steal some wood somewhere, and start a fire, then I can boil water and have COFFEE! Nope, no wood. I even considered making coffee from warm tap water. Finally, after the tables were set, and farmers were all in attendance, and Bullet has been packed, and standing ready with bleary eyes, does somebody say, oh, would you like a cup of coffee? Nah, thanks, I’m ok. YES demit, can you not see the craving stamped on my forehead! Now, having to make inane conversation with a red road map eyeball farmer, about the strange weather, meanwhile it is screaming in my head, can you please just get the sugar in your cup, so that I can get to the good stuff! Finally, I had coffee. Good stuff too.
Then I heard the bad news that there is no shortcut to Niewoudville, my camp for the night. It is back to Kakamas, then to Keimoes, then down to Kenhard, Brandvlei, Calvinia, and there, finally a turn to Niewoudville. And it is about 500km. In my search for coffee, I was still standing at the Orange River at 9am this morning. But, with sad goodbyes to Phillipa and Danie, and the three kittens running around, and Sparky my canoeing guide from Mafikeng, I started the 500km journey.
Kakamas first. After my 3 hours craving, just one cup of Java would just not do it. So, I decide to turn into Kakamas town. Two streets really, please do not expect a metropolis. And there, on the side of the road, I find The Pienk Farmstall. Yes, you heard me correctly. The Pienk Farmstall. And not just the name, everything from the name board, to the lady at the till, all pink. And not just any pink, binneboud pink (inner thigh pink? Hidden part of bum pink?). And absolutely nothing of any value, or to do with a farm stall inside.
But a coffee machine! Besides the coffee machine, there was an old typewriter. Pink porcelain savings piggies, stuffed and mounted Springbok head, wearing a pink baseball cap. One spectacular sundress, surprisingly not pink. Thinking that a biscuit or some kind of baked goodies will go nicely with the machined pure half mast cup of coffee, I only find four empty serving plates. But wait, dining tables outside under the awning. So I ask the pink clad ladies, do you serve breakfast? Nope, they say. Aaa, I thought to myself, they cater for the lunch crowd. Lunch? I ask. Nope. Well, then dinner surely, nope. They don’t serve meals, but then why in all that is logical, do you have a seating area like a restaurant? Answer: In case people want to sit down (in my head, this amounts to teasing, people can bloody go sit in their cars if they want to sit). Anyhow, I walk out with some stale koeksusters, and the last biltong muffin, and I must admit, not bad. Very salty, but not bad.
Ok, rest of the driving. I swear, I have solid 8 hours sleep. Solid, despite the farmer doing a Nuck Chorris over my tent, with a double Flick Flack, side split, ending with an overhead roundhouse, so I should have been bushy tailed and very awake. My personal opinion is, it is the damn roads! 5 min into taking the long road, I feel like I have the Titanic attached to my eyelids. But I soldier on, get through Kenhard, and then had to stop about 20km’s outside of town. Not because of sleepy eyes, 20km outside Kenhard there is nothing. Some large farms, no farm houses, just grass, broken telephone lines, and a fence. That’s it. No other signs of civilization, or people living there. Yet, on the side of the road, a very clear road sign, to please be cautious of the Bicycles. Where? What bicycles? Really? You serious? I actually had to do a U-turn on the highway, to get a shot of this. I am sitting here typing, still wondering about that.
Ok, off the 500km I did, it went quiet for about 150 of those. To Brandvlei. But by then I could have just as well put Bullet on autopilot, and slept. Luckily, Brandvlei, with all five of it’s houses, do have a wide open stretch of sand, with some iffy shade trees. I pull in there, and decide to just close my eyes for a bit. An hour later, I wake up, (or possibly I snored myself awake) with two locals sitting next to Bullet, against a tree. A couple of slow blinks later confirms it is not a mirage. Two locals, and they are giggling away. Looking at the only remaining reg number plate on Bullet, the one asks me, so, you from Somerset West? My reply was, no, of course not, this is a rental car (yes, I know, I disavowed poor Bullet, but she got it), and off I sped.
Now I have been saying from the start, there is something amok with spirits and ghosts and freaky stuff in the Northern Cape. I am driving along, full sunshine, thinking to myself that I should maybe exchange the sweat pants for shorts, when it starts raining! Big drops. Not a lot, but causing me to look up, and again, I swear, clouds! And then Arabian days started. In that area are lots of pans, with no vegetation. Just sand. I see a couple of sheep to the side, trying to actually dig a hole, so close to the ground they are lying, and think, strange, why aren’t they hopping along like sheep do? When to my right, a sand storm the like I have only seen once in the Namib, approaches, and together with the sand storm is a cloud bank, with rain tinted a brown colour due to the sand storm. I did stop Bullet, who also promptly tried to start digging a hole to hide in, and just looked at this spectacular freaky bit of wind magic going on!
It was sand and dust, and rain altogether! I was actually expecting Omar Sharif on a camel to come tumbling past at least! I actually started humming the theme song to Caravans! Then a Land Cruiser drove into that whole sand water aerial mess! Bravely going where no other vehicle (except for the Nomad Truck that other time in the Namib) has ever gone! William was waving from the back seat! Spectacular! I stopped a little further down, and called farmer Tractor Wagon, to arrange for the meeting re the tractor wagon trail at Niewoudville. He says, lady, on a Sunday, farmers sleep in the afternoon, so I would have to call him at 6am the next morning. So, nothing to rush forward to, I meander on to Niewoudville, in pouring rain, glad I have my sweat pants on!
Then I get another urge for coffee. Luckily in Calvinia, the local petrol attendant has a kettle. Working like an Old Model T Ford, but still working. Thirty minutes after starting it, we had liftoff, and I had a flask full of coffee. Only to arrive in Niewoudville sooner than I could get a cup poured. But, 500km, not to be sneezed at, so I am rather tired at this point, and not one soul to be seen on the streets, or rather, street, of Niewoudville. A little like Tommy Knockers. I find Olive camp ground, get the gate open, drive around to the back, and am greeted by, wait for it, a chicken! And an aggressive chicken at that! And following close behind him, two Peacocks! Tommy Knockers!
Calling the number on the gate gets me through to the owner, who it seems, owns most of the town. He directs me to the Smidswinkel restaurant, where one lady waits. Shame, I don’t know what she does on weekends there, but definitely not gather with a sociable group or something fun like that. No other people! And then comes the good news, I don’t have to stay in the camping ground, they prepared one of the guest houses for me! Great! Historical house, restored. With no other soul in town? AAAAaaaaaargh, Matjiesfontein all over again! I start a fire, which cheers me up slightly, make a massive amount of food, which cheers me up even more, and then the sun sets. And still, no sound. No wind through the trees, no sound of kids playing, grownups talking. Only a sad sheep baaaaaa coming from two houses down. The last ciggie I had, I was huddled in the corner of the stoep. Trying my best not to give off body heat, or a heartbeat! You know they can find you like that!
- Tosca’s Epic Kalaroo Adventure … Wet, wild and very muddy! (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s epic Kalaroo Adventure… kaalgat in the Kalahari! (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s Epic Kalaroo adventure … telescopes, toads and technical driving! (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s epic Kalaroo Adventure… The Slaughter of the Small Folk! (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s Epic Kalaroo Adventure… the massacre! (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s Epic Kalaroo Adventure… Bravely going where only one mad bat would not fear to fly! (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s Epic Kalaroo Adventure… Damien the demon and other baby beasts (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
- Tosca’s Guide to National Park People Watching (nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com)
I don’t know what day it is. I have lost count.
Oh yes, the day I leave the Kgalagadi. Oe, sad. I have my last coffee, leave the gate, and as I do my last drive, I just want to rock myself to sleep I am sooo sad, did I tell you I nearly got eaten by a leopard? I decided on a last game drive, early morning. The gate lady, who on a previous occasion, was 2 minutes late in opening the gate, asked me if I can open the gate to the park, when I go through, as she was running a little late this morning. Again. This is about 1km from the camp itself. Yes, of course. I am like a local by now, I can open the gate! I get there, still semi dark, and I make like, !Ku!?, The Busman tracker, and spot some Serval tracks at the gate. Oh fantastic, you Field warden you, spotting something like that! As I drive that first bit after the gate I nogal keep an eye out for the said Serval (that’s the cat with the pointy ears. Like Dr. Spock, just not as handsome. No, the new Dr. Spock! Not William Chatners buddy! Demmit, I am not that old! First Dr. Spock is living in a nursing home in Florida! Or the cat could have been an African Wild cat, or Civet. Wait, the Civit is possibly the Dr Spock look alike).
Anyhow, back to my bush signs interpretation! After my 5 Lion spot, I drive back to camp, and very sad, crying quietly in the corner of Bullet, I meet up with two South Africans. Now important to note that it was South Africans, as two days prior, a German(?) lady pointed out the 5 cheetahs as: there are some animals lying under a tree. And true as Bob, that evening, somebody (?) put up the leopard spot on the sighting board for the exact same spot as the cheetahs were in. So, not trusting anybody but a South African anymore with vital info like this. Back to the story, two South African guys tell me, they saw two Leopard that morning, at the main gate! Yes, that gate. Leopard, not Serval, not Civet, not even Dr. Spock! Leopards! I could have died, I could have been Leopard fodder!
Ok, sob fest over. I leave the park, take some nice shots of dunes and stuff, and then tackle the 250km to Upington. Lawn capital. And place of dodgy lamb chops, that gives one food poisoning.
First things first, Bullet gets down on bended knee, no, wheel, and kisses the tar! I heard smacking noises. In fact, I think there was some tongue involved!
20km later, I am so sleepy, I can barely keep my eyes open! And the road there is flat. Not only flat (I mentioned flat yes?) but not a single thing along the way to distract. No highway robbers, no GQ men’s show, no farm stalls with funny farm implements. Nothing. I played tunes, I yawned, I sang with the tunes, I yawned some more, honestly, I don’t know how I made it. But, there it is, Upington! First order of business, get Bullet to a Hyundai doctor! Thinking of the prime plan, I don’t watch as carefully as I normally do with side roads joining the main road I am on and some bloody nincompoop eases over a stop street, right in front of me, and then does not try and stop. No, he meanders on by, not even putting up a semblance of stopping. I slam on brakes, still have a cramp in my calf from the pressure force, and nearly pee in my pants! Of course, language in the Bullet at that moment, should never ever be repeated in public. Not even in the bathroom when one is alone. You Bloody @&#^%@%$#!)(R$*&%# gulp @^$^**&$## gulp more &$^@^%##!!!!!! And don’t you even try to make as if your brakes failed, you @*&$&^$@))*^.
20 minutes later, arriving at the Hyundai dealership, my knees are still knocking together like Flip from Maya fame! (and seriously, somebody should contact Hyundai and say they should start sponsoring this blog. They are in Korea I think, you can call now, really)
Then comes the second shock of the day. The (very old) sales person at Hyundai (call Korea now, demit) says: “Lady, these cars are not built for roads like the Kalahari ne”. No, really? You shit me not? Why did nobody tell me this?? I thought it was an innate 4×4 (and the x button on this laptop does not work. Luckily I don’t have to write xenophobia too much. Or x ray. Or with Neanderthal man, XXX…..).
The old Hyundai dodger at least confirmed, Blue Bullet’s digestive tract ie. silencer/exhaust pipe (and now I have to use the x) has a hole in it. Which will make consumption a little less than the stellar 20km per litre it has been up to the park.
On to the next ( Whats with all the x’s?) order of business, I make the mistake of asking Mr Senior Senior citizen if he knows how to get to Khamkirri Camp? The poor old man slams down on both his arthritic knees, and nearly starts sobbing! What? Heart attack? Should I call somebody? No, he says, the road turns off from Kakamas town. It is the worst road ever! Dirt road, oh my god, it is bad, he moans, he cries, he nearly pulls his hair out, and Bullet gives a quiet sigh in the background, then pulls herself together, and points her eyes in the direction of the bad, evil road.
Now, with thoughts of “bad road” reverberating in my head, I take direction Keimoes. Then turn there for Kakamas. And what a little oasis Keimoes turns out to be! Reminds me a lot of Malawi, with the Orange river running through town at several tribunals (English, not first language remember). Every couple of minutes there’s a bridge, across another tri bunal. Tribularies. Trifactas. Grrrrrr, Man, side bits of the big river. And the bridges are all single lane, which means, you have to spot the car on the other side, about a kilometer away, and decide if he stopped first or if you did, as a miss spot can lead to a serious case of playing chicken on a bridge over the Orange River! Ah, Tributaries!
And everywhere, people meandering. With umbrellas and hats! Beautiful. And graveyards in red sand dunes, and not 20metres later, green lush vineyards. Contrast rearing its head again.
Ok, I make Kakamas, and seriously, these are some of the normal sounding town names I have come across in the last couple of days.
Oh, and I saw love bloom! Between Keimoes and Kakamas, on that 40km stretch of road, it is road works everywhere. Now road works basically means there will be a long stretch of road where only one lane is open. No visible work is being done in this 1 km stretch, but there are a lot of construction vehicles driving around, with drivers shouting conversations out the window at any pretty girl walking past. And then on both sides of the long stretch would be a stop and go. At each stop and go, is the lady with the red flag, and walkie talkie. Once all the cars from one end pass the finish line, she then hops on the walkie talkie, and asks the other side if all the cars are through. Although all of us, sitting on this side can clearly see the other end, and can see not a single car coming from that side. Then she changes the stop sign to a go sign. So, one of these stop and go ladies, obviously on a tea break, walks off and one of the construction workers, on full day break, starts chatting with her. As I drive off, I see in my rearview mirror, he puts his arm around her waist. She shrugs it off. Tony Bennet starts crooning softly from the back seat of Bullet. The worker puts his arm around her again, and this time, she leaves it there! And they walk off into the sunset! See, government, creating jobs, and environments for love.
Wait, still on my way to Augrabies. At this point I am tired, and grumpy, and heartsore, and thinking off just skipping the whole thing. I have been to Augrabies plenty of times. It is a lot of rocks, and big water. Very big water. Something like 3000 cubic something per spit of drop per second or some such (see, and some people think I was appointed for my people skills). I thus take the Augrabies turn off as I was under the impression that Khamkiri turnoff should be on this road as well. And just to mention here, and not pointing any fingers, but somebody who wrote the operations manual for this tour, wrote directions to Khamkiri: On leaving Augrabies NP, there is a road that turns right, then follow the signs. Now, this confuses me slightly, as if you are coming from direction Augrabies, the river is to the left. But maybe the person did not check which arm his watch was on when he was writing it. So I check on the other side and see Khamkirri sign turn off. Yayaya!!
This is where the mud section comes in, Bullet went bananas! I end up somewhere in a strange vineyard, on very bumpy dirt tracks (aa, the old mans nightmare, I think) and plot on. And then all signs disappear. And the road starts getting more overgrown, and bumpier. So I call Khamkirri. Oh, no, I am on the wrong side of the river! What do you mean, wrong side? How can there be a wrong side? Well, Philippa explains, I should have taken the turn off before Kakamas. But never mind, I can always park my car on this side, and they will ferry me across the river. Long discussion on that side, about what car I have (a big monster car, is my answer) and how much does it weigh (Hmmm., ferry me and Bullet is what crosses my mind)? Before I can think this through, I agree, and off we go, following the directions. Mud, and hang bridges, and large boulders! And the next thing, Bullets parks with wheel basically in the very fast flowing river! IN DEEEEEEEP mud! The motor boat comes in from across the river, and I get out, knee deep in mud, and there docks this little small boat. And no ferrying of Bullet. Only all my stuff and me, and Bullet stays on this side! Nooo, I don’t think so. NOBODY puts Bullet in a corner! How far exactly is the correct turn off? 50km, approximately. So, off we go, with a spin start. Mud is flying everywhere, and Bullet is going nowhere, but, seasoned rally driver that I am, I go into reverse, get bullet out, and mud slide skid out of there, over hang bridges, through little rivers, up mountains, but out of there. Bullet is now blue, with a faint undertone of mud!
The road the old wise man talked about? I spit on bad roads! Ga! Nothing! Some bumps, some dongas, some 4 wheel drive required. Ga, I spit I say! 23 km of this. Ga! I am Sarel Van Der Merwe!
And what a spectacular site, beautiful. Nice camp ground, very small swimming pool, really, very small. More like a bath. Spectacular lapa, overlooking the river, with lounge chairs, and a great bar area and 95 local farmers attending a dance do. But fantastic place. Warm, friendly staff, who came to meet me at my car, and got me a cold drink immediately, introduced me to literally all the staff, helped me with my tent, and generally made me feel so much better. They even gave some very sympathetic nods in Bullets direction, after I told them the hell we have both been through.
Then came the shock, they are taking me canoeing this afternoon! No, really, not necessary I say. I can see you’re busy. I have this thing with water, and a headache, and darn, I forgot my rafting clothes at home, and …. off we went in some kind of 4 wheel drive, bakkie thing, with kayaks, and one inflatable canoe thingy for me, and my own guide.
Ok, I am thinking it can’t be too bad right? Rapids! Big ones! Zambezi is nothing compared to this wall of water waiting for me. They dragged me by the hair, and dumped me in the canoe, and said, don’t worry, we can all swim! Hmmm, did you check if I can?
The First 20 minutes go nice and peaceful, and then off goes Danie and Phillipa, in their kayaks, which I suddenly realize, is what they call “Safety Kayaks”! No, why would we need this? And why do I not have a paddle thingy? And why am I wearing a helmet with a lifejacket resembling a bomb disposal unit’s flack jacket? Oh, because of rapids! Halfway through the first one, I expected to see Keanu standing on the beach, with a long board under the arm! I am very embarrassed to say, but I screech like a Banshee, and with the PITH helmet on, with Maya the bee sunglasses, and the 30kg flack jacket, I make an absolute stunning picture. Do please see the photos. One of my prouder moments, even beats the time I fell down in the main road in Pretoria, or when I lost my skirt on an escalator in a massive mall, or when my pants fell into the long drop in Zambia. No, ok, that takes a lot to beat.
And then the second rapid, which was not even a surprise, as we actually had to get out of the canoe thing and walk around some obstacles and through the Long Grasses to get to the start of it! I looked like a chameleon trying to walk on a smartie box as I am attempting the world speed record through reeds barefoot! And off we go again, and I did see Keanu! As my life flashed in front of me, he was also wading through the long grass like a chameleon!
I had a blast! And yes, I know, in the photos that Danie so kindly took (again, really, I looked so fantastic, no wonder people wanted to take shots of, or at me) it looks like a very small little bit of fluff water, not really a rapid. I tell you, it was an evil monster rapid, one just cant see it from the angle the photo was taken.
Fantastic food later, nice long chats about the overnight adventure waiting for our clients, and off to bed I went. With the sound of Tony in the background… Love is in the air… or was it Elvis? Keanu can’t sing can he? As he can’t act, so just checking.
Has somebody called Korea yet?
Lessons learnt today:
Leaving makes one sad. Like R.E.M.
Do not believe kind people with promises of a gentle meander down river, they have evil intentions.
Always question why you don’t get a paddle.
Keanu and Korea generally don’t respond fast.
The 9 Day Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour is available for booking now, contact us to get your piece of the action!
I am going to veer a bit off topic, but I assume some people have never been to a Southern African National Park and need a crash course in people spotting. Now by National Park, I mean a place with animals, preferably some of the Big 5.
With that in mind, there are two things that you need to know about, one, are Animals – that would be the furry and feathered types; the other, is the people coming to look for, and at the animals. Also, the furry type.
Now the second category can also be subdivided into quite a few smaller categories, and even share some common traits with other categories.
Lets start with the most well know. Mr Big 5, that is the guy, usually in a Bakkie, with a much cowed wife in tow. Also, can be recognized by the fact that he usually shows up with a caravan, and a trailer in tow. He can mostly be spotted, zipping at top speed, between waterholes, and carries a humongous pair of binoculars (not to be confused with the Bird watcher, which we will dicuss later).
Now Mr Big 5 is not a guy that will keep quiet about his findings ( unlike the Ms/Mr Yuppie Big 5). Any chance he has, he will stop you, and gleefully tell you all about the Lion he saw that morning. Nearly. Well, his paw was peeking out! It was a magnificent paw! And it was at a waterhole so and so. Tomorrow morning, he will be back there, looking for the Big sighting!
Now Mr Big 5 is good for some limited information on where to find some of the animals you are looking for. When the day is done, Mr Big 5 can be found, in his chair, outside his caravan, while his wife organises supper.
Ms/Mr Yuppie Big 5, well, difference here, she/he shows up in a brand new Pajero. With Aircon. Also differs slightly from Mr Big 5, in that he/she stays in chalets, and uses the very expensive high tech camera in a dual function of binoculars as well. Ms Yuppie Big 5 will Never share info with the other weary travellers, as this would most probably necessitate for them to open the Pajero window, and that in turn will get dust onto the GPS system, which in turn will delete all the info, triangulated, of the previous visits Big 5 sightings. Ms Yuppie Big 5 will only share this vital information with the other Yuppie friends, at home. And have a right giggle at those other fools, looking for birds! And telling other people where to find stuff! This all over a glass of carefully selected Sancere.
Briefly mentioned above is the Bird Watcher. Fantastic type, who mostly accidentally see the big 5, as he is so busy scanning trees, and driving so slowly as not to disturb the lesser breasted, immature, never spotted here before bird, that he just kind of stumbles over the Big stuff. Mr Twitcher actually does not secretly yearn to see the Big 5 ( unlike Mr Tourist), and sees animals as a bit of an inconvenience, especially if said member of Big 5 is lying close to the much sought after Lesser breasted, immature, never before spotted Tit. Mr Twitcher is easy to identify. He also carries a pair of binoculars, but these have distance and height and all kinds of vital statistics showing on the inside lens. He is also the one driving really slowly. And when parked, please watch angle of head. If pointed upwards into a tree, chances are he is Mr Twitcher. Mr Twitcher’s wife, Mrs Twitcher, shares his passion, but secretly yearns to see the big five, as she gets very tired of handing over one of the 12 different bird books that Mr Twitcher carries with him. Always. Even to the shop, as one never knows when, a lesser breasted, does not exist wading Mossie, will dart around the next isle. Mrs Twitcher, however, can’t cook to save her life, and is thus dependant on Mr Twitcher’s good will, in the evening, when they park off next to their small tent, made of recycled Gwano platform pillars.
Mr Tourist can be divided into two sub-categories. One would be the large luxury coach type tourist, usually from some Asian country (where cameras can basically cure cancer, while operating on your pet parakeet, and cost barely absolutely nothing in their currency, and can link to your iMattress, that in turn can call up your stock broker, who can programme the iFax to bounce off iSatellite, to make sure you choose the right pair of underpants). So, Mr Luxury Bus Tourist is pretty much like Mr Big 5, only not in a bakkie, or with a caravan, and won’t tell you where the Big 5 is, as he basically doesn’t know if he saw a cheetah or a goose. Also, he can only say: “Where is the bathroom?” and “my pants are on fire”, in English. Mr Luxury Bus Tourist comes stock standard with a guide, who wears his Field Guide badge proudly, and reports anybody else, who looks like they can actually communicate with their own clients, as non registered. Mr Luxury Bus Tourist Guide also knows to shut up, find the Big 5, or as close as possible without Mr Luxury Bus Tourist knowing it is actually a domestic cat, and not a cheetah he so kindly pointed out.
The second sub category of Mr Tourist, is actually Mr Undercover Tourist. Now Mr Undercover Tourist has heard about the other types of tourists who visits National Parks, and would never want to be known as one of those. So, Mr Undercover Tourist can be recognized by the rental 4×4 he is driving, and his obsessive road rule use. Mr Undercover Tourist also invested big money on a mammal guide book, a bird book, a map of the said park, a book written by rangers about their stories in the bush, as well as a book on the Traffic Act, the full 12 editions.
Mr Undercover tourist will carefully read the park rules and instructions at reception when clocking in, and will never ever ever be late for a gate closing time. He is unfailingly polite, and will stay on the left side of the road, even if on the right side there is a lion, chasing a hyena, using a springbok leg as a club, and every Mr Big Five in the district is blocking his view. It says so in the 12 part Traffic Act book. Drive on the left side of the road, and when he sees a crocodile, hanging from an elephants tail, smoking some marijuana, he will not slam on brakes and pull out cameras. No, he will first indicate that he will pull off. To the left. And once the car has come to a complete halt, he will then put on the hazards.
Mr Undercover Tourist would secretly also like to see the big 5, but that brings him too close to Mr Luxury Bus Tourist. So he keeps that to himself. Mr Undercover Tourist also bought the full Bush Pride Safari Wear range, including the zip off pants. He carries a regular sized camera, with interchangeable lenses, in case he has to take some shots of the chalet as well. Now the first two days of his 7 day stay in the park, with the days carefully divided between the main camps, will be spent getting the lay of the land. So if you should stop next to him, and ask him to roll down his window so that you can have a chat about sightings, he will first be hesitant, and only roll down two centimeters (he also researched the crime stats in SA, and was told to never ever ever open your car window to strangers). So, when you then tell him, two kilometers on, he will see two lions under a tree, he will first look shocked, and then start doing the calculations in his mind to convert miles to kilometers. But, two days later, if you should meet up with him again, he will flash lights at you, and greet you like an old friend, and swap sighting stories with you. He catches on fast and is a great source of info, as he is actually very diligent in checking out every bush and tree, and generally enjoys the small stuff too. He is easily identified in the evening, as he will be spending it inside his chalet (he really wanted to camp, but he could not get the tent he used for last years everest attempt through customs, and also could not find a place on the internet who rents out tents) eating a plate of cooked food. He does not know how to braai. He would love to, but is scared this will give away the game, and then everybody will know he is a tourist. Please invite him over if you should be braaing yourself!
One of my personal favorites, is Mr Wannabe Photographer. Not professional, them you never see, they hang out on the no access roads, because they grew up in the park, and their father is the head ranger etc. No, Mr Wannabe Photographer is the one whom you must not park close to at any sighting as when he starts to unroll the camera lens, chances are you are going to lose your car windshield. The lenses Mr Wannabe Photographer carries are bigger in circumference than Mike Tyson’s thigh. It is so big, that Mr Wannabe Photographer must carry it with a special pillow and pulley system, just to lower it onto the window frame. Mr Wannabe Photographer also hogs all the space at any sighting, and stays there until whatever animal you wanted to see, has disappeared beyond the 10 km mark, which is how far his lens can see. Mr Wannabe Photographer does not have time for chats about where to find what animal as he is too busy cleaning his lens and hoisting it back into the car, which is also a Pajero. Because if one can afford a NASA lens, as a hobby, chances are a Pajero costs nothing to him either. Mr Wannabe Photographer is not the happiest type, as he secretly yearns to find the Big 5 and then talks incessantly about it. But he can’t, as he is busy with his lenses. No time.
Just on a side note, if you should ever run into Mr Professional Photographer: He drives a beat up old 1980 Uno, as he spends all his money on cameras and Park Fees. He is also dating the current Miss Slovakia, who he straps onto the roof rack of his Uno (or Landrover), as his custom built camera box, that is also bullet proof, water proof, sand proof and has in fact survived Sarajevo, takes prime seat in the front. In the back of the car he keeps his emergency supplies, in case he has to sit next to a sand dune for 10 days, where 9 days ago somebody saw a Lion. Miss Slovakia he keeps on hand for, well, things that only Miss Slovakia can do. Also because it looks cool!
Another of my favourites, just because of sheer dogged determination, is Family Joe Soap. Now Family Joe Soap can easily be confused with Mr Big 5, as they also pull in with a caravan. But that is about where it stops. They have 3 kids, of which one is a baby. The reason why they show up in a National Park is to instill the love of nature that their parents taught them at that age, and their parents before them etc. So, very optimistic bunch this, as they rock up at the camp site, where Mom runs off with baby to find some space somewhere to change diapers, and Dad starts leveling the Caravan. Boet and Sus will go suss out the shop, and the swimming pool. On gate opening time, the whole family will sit ready at the gate, with baby on mom’s lap, and Boet and Sus with their noses smashed up against the back windows, ready for action. And all goes well for at least 30 minutes. But after 3 hours in a non airconditioned sedan, Boet then has his finger up Sus’ nose, baby is screaming, and Sus is trying to hide under the driver’s seat from the spider she saw three hours ago at the gate. Dad actually really wishes with all his heart for the big 5, preferably within 30 minutes of leaving camp, so that he can then turn around, go start the fire for his afternoon braai, while the kids play in the swimming pool for the rest of the day. Mom wishes for the same, but instead of the braai part, she wishes fervently for somebody else to be changing diapers, while doing said task on the dashboard on a side dusty road. After about 3 days if this, both Mom and Dad promise each other to rather go to Bela Bela next year. But, next year they will be back, as this is what their parents did, and their parents, and they can only remember how much fun it was to sit in the back with their noses pressed to the windows, waiting for the first sight of lion. Bless their hearts, at least they are trying to get their children into nature! As much hell as it seems. And please don’t disturb them with questions about sightings? They most probably only saw dirty diapers, and Boets bleeding foot which he stuck out the window and which then got torn open by a branch, and really can’t tell you anything, as much as they want to.
And so the list goes on. The Amateur Field Guide, who will tell you where he saw animals, but who would also want to share his limited knowledge of wildife, gleamed from a National Geographic channel in the process, to be avoided unless you have no other choice.
The Forever Couple who have been coming to the same park for the last 20 years, every year, and keeps to themselves, unless you ask them where to find what. Fantastic source of info, as they won’t talk your ear off, but will be very precise in the info (third bush to the left, tree that looks like a dog upside down, 1 metre behind, is a Cape Fox. In the tree above him, is also a Rock Kestrel, in case you like birds).
So, the bottom line of all of this, you will meet some strange and wonderful people in National Parks, and lets face it, everybody really wants to tell somebody of the luck they had today when they saw blah blah. So go make friends, start a chat in the bathroom, speak to the gate guard, roll down the window, flash the lights if you saw something, as when you leave the park you will not know anybody’s name, but you still would have made a friend for life!
As I near the end of my visit to the Kgalagadi National Park, I look back and realize I saw, interacted with and met most of the above, and a little of each of the above is in me too!
To the Indian gentleman from Botswana, who described a waterhole scene in one sentence (hyenas with pups played and splashed and caused big drama and all); To the Dutch couple, with wife in the back seat, and husband in the front, and the most exited smiles ever; To the North West farmer who missed the lion by 2 hours; To the quantum full of Spanish folk who really tried to look for any predators, as I asked them to, while I was busy running a couple of metres into the bush to pick up a glass bottle there; And even to the two drunk Frenchmen, who made my life hell at a lion sighting with their “You want drinky?”. Here’s to seeing you all, in some form or other, at the next park!
Keen to find out what adventure awaits Tosca next? Here’s a clue… she will be playing on the longest one in South Africa!
No, seriously, one would assume that the small folk in the bush would stand together and protect each other from the large, vicious ugly ones like the lion, cheetah, and Hyena (have I mentioned the Brown Hyena? Nanananana…). But Nooooo, they are like the final days of the Roman Empire, back stabbing, scheming, murderous little bastards, all of them!
I am driving along, as one does in the Kalahari, and spot a lovely serene looking Tawny Eagle, perched (see, English getting much better) on a Sociable Weavers nest. Now one would assume he is the large predator in this little band of robbers. But wait, next thing a Pigmy Falcon swoops in and starts attacking him! And with every dive bomb it does, it makes the sound equal to, or actually surpassing the London air raids of WW2! Poor Tawny, sitting there minding his own business does not attack back, it does not defend itself. It sits there like the big eagle he is, and takes it! Now one can understand the Falcon’s conundrum as he gets free room and board and very nice fat snakes from the sociable weavers in return for protecting the nest. And he was most probably fearing a horses head on his pillow the next morning, one can not break a contract with the Don. So, yes, he should have at least put some attempt into it, to show Joey times 200 that he does NOT want a Horse head on his pillow. But this over the top display of ferocious mental determination from the Pigmy Falcon would have won WW2 in three months! With no sirens needed!
But it does not stop there. Three Kestrels (small little raptors really, not even worth the word raptor, more like raptits) attack a dove. That symbol of peace, of flying out over wedding guests, of lily white breasts, and serene smiles. Two of the Kestrels tear it apart (PG rating please) from different directions. Then the third also wants his share, so they divide it again. It was blood and feathers, an aerial blood fest, over in seconds. With one lonely feather drifting sadly to the ground the only testament of the peace that reigned over the valley before the attack of the Hitchcock Kestrels!
But oh wait, there’s more! If you call now, I will tell you all about the two striped mice. You know, those cute little kite surfers? They are basically just cannon fodder for Goshawks. It is like wholesale slaughter! I get all exited, with the sighting of a Goshawk, on the ground, and before I can grab my camera to get a nice shot of this pretty Raptor, it takes off, with one of the cutie mice clutched in its Talons! Well, as they say, one mouse in the Talon is better than two in the pocket! But knowing these Goshawks like I now do, chances are he has three chained to his nest already, and every time he brings in a new catch, he taunts them all with promises of torture and mayhem! Fodder I tell you!
But the pinnacle of atrocity must surely be the hour and a half standoff in the dunes. Not lions stalking Springbok, not cheetah on the hunt, nooo, it is the bloody Goshawks again! A family of Suricates left their hole digging (for sleeping purposes) a little too late. So while the three adults industrially try to find hard ground (sand dunes have a tendency to cave in on your head, or so I am told) to dig in, three itty bitty babies frolic about in the grassy knolls. But, like the shooter in the observatory, or behind the grassy knoll, the Goshawk stalks, in slow sweeping circles. The next thing, the Chief Suricate starts making the most distressing warning sound ever heard. Even compared to the aforementioned air raid sirens! Babies make a beeline for mom, adults pop up like Jack in the Boxes, and general pandemonium ensues. It is babies tripping over each other, and adults running so fast in circles, that tail hairs are still fluttering over Kalahari dunes. And Mom is the only one who keeps her head, and stands ready, hind legs splayed, arms out in front of her, to repel the deadly attack from above! And evil goshawk swoops in! Chaos. They run, they stop, turn around, run again, mom spits and screams, and babies try to burrow into her stomach, and one adult furiously tries to make the dune sand hole stay a hole, but the more he digs, the more it caves in. Now I am standing with my window facing this whole drama! So, when they start running forward, I have to slam on reverse. But I am hanging half body out the window, so basically have to steer with my knees. And get Bullet into reverse with the toes of my left foot, while looking through the view finder, as all of this must happen. Blue Bullet at some point took matters into it’s own hands, or steering, so to speak, and just tried to stay in a straight line. But making things more intricate, is the fact that I have two other cars surrounding this attempted kill sight, one being the Sri Lankan man and his 5 kids, wife and mother in the vehicle. He basically put his 3 year old behind the steering wheel, in order to get his NASA built lens out the window. The other car had an American woman behind the wheel, and she apparently missed the obvious full frontal attack from the Goshawk and was still viewing this scene as a pastoral peaceful little tableau! So, from steering with my knees, changing gears with my big toe, hanging out of the window, for an hour and a half, shouting instructions to the American to WATCH THE DAMN HAWK BEHIND YOU and at the 3 year old, to move, Bullet is coming in, taking about 300 photos, I can STILL not feel my legs, my back is in a spasm type cramp, akin to paralysis. The Suricates now had to contend with a Blue danger, reversing over dunes and a Gemsbok, two Leopards, and 9 kite mice (well, the amount of bumps, and blue sky photos only clearly indicates that something died, and it was not a Suricate). Mom finally got the troops together, got two to dig, ran back to the first nearly successful attempt at a hole, 2 km back, and kept babies under her the whole time! Horrible Goshawk tried three more times, and was repelled! Way to go Suricate woman you! I am woman, can make fire and defend against Goshawk!
Meanwhile, I am scarred for life, the Sri Lankan Kids are still hiding under grandma’s armpit, and 3 year old now has visions of Le Mans! Oh, and American Lady, was crying through half of it! Either because Bullet reversed over sensitive vegetation, and or Gemsbok, leopard and Mice, or because the underdog won! Well, rather, the under Suricate.
Moving over to a Mongoose of a different colour! A couple of nights ago, a slender mongoose stole a whole piece of chicken from my neighbours, the new friends from my valley. We all thought he would disappear behind the closest bush, and finish the chicken, but strangely not. He runs about half way into the park, with the chicken in hand, or rather, in mouth (in hand was the Ground Squirrel who also stole a whole toasted sandwich, pretty much at the same time, but it was way too heavy to clutch in his mouth, so he was running at breakneck speed, with the sandwich clutched in one hand, dragging behind him). So, we then amend the story, and think shame, he is feeding a whole household, and wifey told him not to show up empty handed, or mouthed for another night. So he was running home with his treasure, to appease wife, and feed kids. This story made us happy. But, being a typical male, his true colours came shining through! He sits blankly staring into space, on a braai step platform thing. The next moment, a female comes running in, looking over her shoulder. He calmly steps off the platform, grabs her by the arse ( BIG PG rating please) sits down with his hind legs stretched out and proceeds to, well, hmmm, make tender love to her, while sitting on his bum, with no tender words or flowers! Again small little fellow, one would think that he would be done in about 1 minute flat. Again, surprise! He goes on, and on, and on! Humping away. At one point, he even stares up at the sky, in case some eagle or whole piece of chicken should fall on his head! But, girly got her own back. When he finally gets done, she turns around, and whacks the living chicken out of him. And not a woozy open palm smack, she clobbered him over the head!
This of course lead to a very long debate as to the purpose of the stolen chicken. Andre and Maritza, the new friends from the valley, recon he used this as a “gunsie”, to get her more amenable to some action! And what a cheap little She Mongoose! To fall for it! Granted, with no food in the Kalahari, and only small lizards and small folk to eat, I see her point. A piece of chicken for her is like a trip to India, a dip in the Ganges, and a free spa makeover for us. I would have considered the offer. Or maybe she is an emancipated Mongoose, and did it for free! Just because she wanted to!
Well, he is now known as The Neanderthal Man.
Meanwhile, it is baby time in the park. Hene. Baby Cape Fox, baby Springbok, baby Black backed jackal, baby Ostrich (classic, Mom takes a sand bath and leaves dada to check the chicks, which he does, but very nervously!), baby Suricate, baby Blue Wildebeest, baby everything! Cute man.
So, final count:
Lion ( did I mention, 5 of them, at sunrise, on a red dune. Two big black maned males)
Cheetahs. Last count about 9. Yee, ne na na ne na!!
Brown Hyena. Again as above.
Suricates plus babies.
Springbok plus babies
Blue wildebeest, plus babies
Red Hartebeest, only their bums.
Pale chanting Goshawk. Miserable pieces of …..
Possible Dark chanting Goshawk.
Two men who saw two leopards.
Tawny eagle, plus immature
Two drunk Frenchmen.
Stanley’s bustard ( stuffed in the Twee rivieren restaurant)
Two striped mice
Ag demit, I cant remember all!
Another tip for the weary traveler, make lists of what you see!
Oh, I forgot the tortoise. After seeing about 20 000 signboards to say, please drive careful, and don’t drive over Tortoises, I started to believe that the boards went up a day too late, and they were all killed. Most probably by other small Folk. Pecked to bits! Thrown onto sharp rocks to break the shells. But, I saw one!
I am very sad to leave this amazing park, and will treasure and recount, and retell the stories for years to come!
I made some friends, saw some deep sheeeet, and learnt again, to sweat the small stuff.
Cherio red dunes!
Don’t miss your piece of the action, find out more about our 9 Day, Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour here!!
Day 5 did not start well, and also did not end too well either…
On top of the flu, I also contracted a serious case of food poisoning! Serious! One lamb chop later, and my stomach colluded with Damien and sent me straight to hell. Eish! Not to get too much into the gory details, I woke up, realized my stomach woke up way before me, and so it started.
But, trooper that I am, I got some water, camera, and lots of ciggies (cause who does NOT smoke when seriously ill?) and went off on the first game drive. Luckily I met a farmer and his wife, from North West Province the previous day at the third Cheetah visit of the day, and ran into them again on my way out. So we drove in convoy. But I was basically bent double over my steering wheel, clutching for dear life, and hoping that Farmer North West was more awake and aware than I was. And as luck would have it, 20 minutes in, at the first watering hole, a Brown Hyena! Those that don’t know what they look like, it is a cross between a Desert Yeti, and a Lassie dog! Uncomfortably ugly, and incredibly shy. Basically like I was feeling at that point! Except for the shy bit. I took about 300 photos, but did throw up in between. I know. Gory. But reality bites!
After the Hyena sighting I bravely decided to continue on a bit, and about an hour later realized this was one of those not clearly thought through decisions! Turn around, and get to a Bathroom, PRONTO! (When I get ill, I do speak in foreign tongues. Pronto.). The road I was on, from Twee Rivieren Rest camp to Mata Mata rest camp was in a seriously bad shape. Luckily, Blue Bullet is an Automatic transmission, so I could cross my legs. Every car driving past making the mistake of wanting to ask me what I saw in back direction got a meek wave of the hand and a very pinched face, and an incredibly sour stare! As I am driving, with cold sweat running down my spine and trying very hard not to sneeze (with flu and dust, not a likely prospect), all I can think is, can this road please magically get better! You will not believe. The next thing I know, I am speeding past a road grader! Fixing the road. So, speed limit be damned, I put one foot in the corner and made haste for camp! And just in time.
Lesson one for our intrepid travelers. Please pack medicine for all occasions? As Twee Rivieren had Lewens Essens, and Red Lavender. One for wind, and the other for overeating! I did not overeat (well, ok, I did), I have food poisoning! I need some serious medicine. “Well,” Says the lady at the counter, “Ashkam has a clinic.”. Yes, this is if I want to drive 70km, crunched around my steering wheel!
So, next best thing to a doctor, phone Mom. At this point I am feeling pretty sorry for myself, and as Mom answers, I can barely contain the gulp, swallowing my tears. Ma, help! Eina. What my mom came up with was: “Eat Maizena. It will set in your stomach. Only drawback, you will be plugged up for at least two weeks afterwards.” Ok, Ma, no Maizena here. Right, eat mash. This, for some strange reason, I actually packed, although I never eat mash. But, says Mom, if that does not work, eat jelly, luke warm, so it can set in my stomach. Ok, now what about the cramps part. “Well,” Says Mom, “get something warm, and put it on your stomach.” Ja Ma, I did not pack the warm water bottle. Thanks. But, I can always roll one rock in from outside and put that on my stomach, seeing as it is about 45 degrees outside, and any rock would be oven temperature by now. Yes, says Mom, grand plan.
In the end, I basically slept most of the day. Ate mash, threw that up, and drank heavy pain pills, and threw that up and slept again. Luckily, emergency services Nomad came to the rescue, and moved my booking to another two nights Twee Rivieren. In my pain filled state, I walk to reception to check if I can just stay where I am, or can move. By this point word has spread, and all were asking how I was feeling, and their sisters cousin also came down with a stomach bug, she lives in Pofadder etc etc. Shame, very caring.
Bottom line, with mash and pain pills, and some caring spitting from Damien, I got over it.
Meanwhile, I made friends with my neighbours, also from the Helderberg area. They carried in some immune boosters, and pills and all kinds of stuff not relevant to flu, food poisoning or stomach bug, but still helpful. They went off on a game drive around 4pm, and about 40km out, they saw some lions. Then, they drove BACK, to come fetch me, to also see the Lions. Unfortunately, I was out for the count and did not even hear them! But that is above and beyond the call! See, making people and influencing friends. No, sorry, influencing meetings and friendly people. Ag, yes, Carnegie knows what I mean!
That excitement over, I have been blissfully writing about places, and most probably none of you know where the hell I am! Please don’t feel alone, I very rarely know either. But, to put me on the map, I am currently staying at Twee Rivieren Rest camp. This is the main rest camp for the Kgalagadi transfrontier park. And that is also a whole new story.
Years ago, the South African Parks Board, and the South African Government decided it would be a fantastic plan to merge (love that word, Meeeerge) a National Parks that connects to a National Park on the other side of the border. Country border. So, they started with the Kruger National park. Which became the Limpopo Transfrontier Park. That merged (love that word) Kruger and the counterpart on the Mozambique side. Funny little aside bit, after they lifted the fence in-between the two parks, they realized that the outer boundary of the Mozambique side did not actually have a working fence. They promptly put the middle fence up again, but I am sure a couple of old elephant geezers are currently lazing about with a sundowner on Bazaruto Island (you may find him on our Mozambique tour).
After that a few smaller ones were done, and then came the Kgalagadi. It was first known as the Kalahari Gemsbok National park. This merged (hehehehe) with the Kgalagadi Park on the Botswana side. So now one can actually travel from the SA side, through to Botswana. Well, not really. Only if you have a 4×4 and only if you stay in the park for two days. Not sure why. Maybe they think, if you are going to smuggle cocaine through the park, sitting in 45 degrees for two days, surrounded by Suricates, would make any person snort up the stock, and thus keep Botswana clean of the scourge of Cocaine? Or, perhaps they want to make a little money first before letting you loose on poor Botswana (not so poor really, they have nice diamonds). But, that is the back story of where I am now.
The Kgalagadi has three main rest camps, Twee Rivieren, Mata Mata (close to the Namibian side) and Nossop, close to nothing. I am sitting in chalet number 5, in Twee Rivieren. Please, no stalking!
Now I am hearing you all moan (well, the two people reading this at least, of which one is family, so really, you, out there moaning), why am I not staying only two days, like it says in the itinerary? Because I can! But, please don’t feel cheated out of 4 days in this wonderful, semi arid (hene, but I am throwing those English words now) park. Any visit is like an introduction, you can always come back again!
Enough explaining, if you are still not sure where I am, Google it!
Back to Damien. You know, the hissing, barking gecko in the rafters? Not a gecko, but, wait for it, a freaking bat! And either Damien is the only bat this side of the equator without the ability to echo locate (Google it), or he has a serious case of Narcissism. Damien just got loose, and starting flying wildly through my bedroom! I kid you not, he flew into the mirror, and with possible concussion, now flew into me! This went on for a while, and every time I think he has things under control, Wham, into the mirror again! (this does sound freakishly like George Michael, oh no, his problem was with the restroom, sorry, my mistake). I now called the Parks Board people. No, not a ranger with a 345 elephant hunting gun, the normal lady at reception. Now I though the only way to catch a bat is with a tennis racquet, and although I normally carry one in my handbag, I just clean forgot to pack it this time, it seems there is another way. I always thought there was something just plain wrong with toilet spray! Well, proof! Bats flee for their lives when sprayed with toilet spray! Handy hint this, write it down! So, tata Damien!
And Tata me. I am pooped. Excuse the pun.
Lessons learnt today: Always carry a Tennis racquet.
And toilet spray. The nastier the aroma, the better.
Always carry stomach medicine. And flu medicine. Next to the toilet spray.
Brown Hyenas are lonely too. Not just R.E.M.
Botswana has diamonds.
And I am in the Northern Cape, in the top little bit, and not with the Bazaruto drinking elephants.
Epic I tell you!
As always, I would like to start at the beginning of my day. This was at 2h30am! I briefly mentioned the barking Gecko in the rafters yesterday? I have now decided, it is not a Barking Gecko, it is some kind of demonic hissing, spitting amphibian creature, put in the rafters to specially annoy me! Every time I turn around in bed, it spits at me! And then comes the post spit HISSSSSsssss! But the problem is, Damien ( it now has a name), puts so much effort into the HIsssss, that it promptly has a bowel movement! There are little fire balls of crap all over the room now! Hence, me being awake at 2h30! I was spat awake (English is not my first language, but even I can see something is amok with that sentence?)!
Ok, post 2h30 demon spit later, some confusion with gate times. On the map they kindly give you to illustrate the two roads in the Kgalagadi, it clearly states gate opening time for November is 5h30am. But, on the clock sign at the gate it says 6h15. I reckoned that the people at the park would know better than the media print shop in Cape Town that printed the map and gate times. So I will go with the Gate clock sign! By 6am, I am standing ready, but strangely, the sun has been up for a while! I got clarity on this matter later in the day, when the gate guard said he doesn’t know who made the time on the gate wrong (my personal feeling, somebody who wanted to hog the Lions for themselves)
So at incorrect 6h15, I went into the park! Halihaaaa, what a day! Spectacular! It started off with a family of Suricates (and o henetjie, how embarrassing would it be if it was actually banded mongoose or some such, and here am I, Guide trainer of note, and a qualified field guide saying it is a suricate!). But I know in Afrikaans they are called Meerkatte or Graatjies. I digress. Back to the massacre theme of this epic adventure! One of the Graatjies managed to catch a Rock Agama. A BIG one! It was chomping away, starting with the head, and from here it is going to get a bit graphic. PG in effect! So, it bit of the head, but apparently the sinew is a bit of a tough customer to get loose. So, furious snapping and pulling, and that sorted it out. And in the middle of this feast, some danger was noted, so the Suricate was standing on its back legs with an agama’s lower half dangling out of the side of its mouth, with one agama arm still kicking! I wonder what the agama though it would do if it could kick itself free? Run around with no head? Oe, this reminds of Matjiesfontein all over again!
Now in my head I am an award winning photographer. In reality, I am rather crappy at it. But it gives me so much joy just pressing that shutter release button that I actually don’t really care if the photos never end up in the National Geographic! So unfortunately, my photos don’t really show the guts and gore, but believe me, it was spraying all over the show!
After that little blood fest, I stumbled over a Dark Chanting Goshawk! Again, some mediocre photos there, but well worth the 70 spaces it took up on my memory card!
And so it went on. Two hours of small birds, little mammals running around, and fun and games to be had by all. I have to admit, seeing as I am in Blue bullet all alone, and Bullet is not a big talker, I found myself having fat chats with myself, and random animals around me! Hello there Mr Ostrich! How YOU doing? And the last song I played before entering the park was a song of which I only know about a half a stanza, and that got stuck in my head (I see a hmmm la la da, grace lala your mind. In a world of laahmmmlaaa la I see). Hence my decision to turn back after about 2 and half hours in one direction (also, the guy at the gate told me that the road is closed from 20km from Twee Rivieren Camp. He also drew this on my map with magic marker, in case I got confused between the metric system and the other system that people use on maps. Ok, I see his point. But, 30km later, still no clear “road closed, don’t you dare cross this one rock lying on the ground” sign. I thus turned around of my own accord. ( They say it is hard to find internet in Jail)
And then it happened! I was doing a spot of bird watching, and as one does when doing this hobby, the eye will always go into trees, and underneath trees. So I saw a small black bird, under a tree. This now as I drove past. But then my mind said, hang on, a small bird wont sinuously stretch itself out like a snake! Slam brakes, come to a skidding halt that even the big Sarel van der Merwe would not have been able to pull off, without rolling poor Bullet! I Slam into reverse, and take out three Kanna bushes. O hell, it could have been Njarra bushes too, I was not really looking ok! And then I see it. One ear sticking up, in the shade! Leopard I think? Nah, the last time the Kgalagadi pulled a strange animal that don’t belong here stunt, was when they brought in 12 Giraffes, and my brother also nearly rolled the car when we saw one. Basically, a traffic hazard to do that. Then in my jumbled confusion, it sunk in, CHEETAH! The fast cat? Lives in the Kalahari and Namibia. Ag, ok, pretty much everywhere. Seriously endangered, due to its love life being a little Mississippi, Deep South thing, where your grandmother is also your cousin, and you are your own nephew! So, with the tune from Deliverance Banjo duet playing in my head, I switch off the car and just sigh and smile. Cheetahs.
And not one, but four of them. Mom and cubs!
Eventually another car arrives, and I hang out half mast through the car window, in my excitement that my eyesight is actually not as bad as I thought, and enthusiastically pointed out the four cheetahs. All lying flat, can barely see them. So we settle in for the duration, because at some point one of them must surely go to the bathroom?
Then the lady in the other car drives parallel to me, and asks me, she bought a new camera, and do I know which camera setting one uses to get the Cheetah to come out of the shade? My answer in my head was, yes, of course, turn the dial on the camera to raw meat, and then point it in the direction of the cheetahs. But that was in my head. In fact I was a bit worried about the lady, as her eyes were watering terribly. Now I am not sure if it was with emotion, to finally see a cheetah, or if she should rather stick to the Kruger Park, where they have tar and not dust roads.
But, eventually she leaves, and not 5 minutes later, the cheetahs get up! I slam Bullet into reverse, again nearly take out two dunes, and half a plantation of whatever bush that was, and so I ran with the Cheetahs! Truly! In reverse! And I got some lovely shots. Cheetah walking. Cheetah walking still. O look, Cheetah walking! And then Cheetah sleeping 2 km further down, under a duplicate shade tree!
O well, all ends well that is well? No, all is well that ends? Bugger, you know what I mean.
Lunch time saw me back at camp with a duet tan going on on my face. Half burnt, the other half very light white! And, there stands a Nomad truck! In the Kgalagadi! I must tell you, white contrasts very nicely with the red sand dunes! It was a truck on a charter tour, but luckily the driver, Richard, could come check out Blue bullet and the V8 sound. He gets under the car, with about 30 bystanders cheering on, and it seems there is a hole in the silencer! And, more bad new, Blue Bullet is going through a slight identity crisis! Reason, she lost her Registration number plate! This part Richard asked me very politely: “Boss lady, where is the Number plate?” So I explain about the hell road, and also the Kgalagadi roads, and he says, but is Bullet then 4×4? I could hear a faint sniff coming from Bullet at that point.
So, number plate-less, I venture back into the park. And saw a side striped Jackal! Either that, or a very Mangy looking black backed Jackal. I am hoping for the side stripe, it is rather rare to see. So, as I am minding my own business, taking photos of said sick black backed, or rare side striped, another 4 wheel drive car approaches at the speed of light, or rather much more than the allowed 40km per hour. Then the driver slams on brakes, creates a dust cloud like Hiroshima would not believe, and looks around. Then he asks me, what am I seeing. Now, right underneath his nose, possibly with its tail caught under his tyres, is the Jackal. Which I meekly point out. O, he says, its just a jackal. He has been looking for a Lion the whole day, and still have not found one. I thought to myself, if that is how you drive, and you can’t even see a jackal under your nose, chances are you drove by a whole assembly of Lions! But again, wisely, I kept that to myself!
So, the bottom line, boys and girls, is that we all learnt a lot today! Demons can live in Geckos, and then spit. Cheetahs sleep with the wrong ones. If you drive too fast, you park on Jackals, who in turn won’t tell you where the big Lion party is being held that evening!
My day ended with another insect attack! This time it was done in full frontal attack mode, on the entire bush front Chalets! While I was busy battling a swarm of bees, the Dutch family next door was busy chasing them with a bath towel, and the Americans two chalets down, were just bemoaning the fact that one just can’t control wildlife anymore these days! I have to admit, I was screaming a bit like a girl. Sorry.
I got the bees out, had a nice piece of sheep, and started looking forward to tomorrow.
My sighting list add-ons:
Four Cheetahs. Did I mention I saw cheetahs? Yes, four.
Two very close Ostriches. Not close to me, close to each other.
Dark chanting Goshawk.
Pale chanting Goshawk.
Blue Heron (water bird, but seemingly one with identity crisis as well)
Spingboks and springbok babies! Very very cute
Side striped Jackal.
And I did see one Black backed as well. Or then, one healthy and one sick Black backed Jackal
One Nomad truck, with emotional Spanish Tour Leader.
One Agama foot, still kicking.
Did I mention about the four Cheetahs?
O, how could I forget! Tree climbing mice! Beyond adorable! They hang like Kite surfers on three different branches and try to get the seeds on the bush! Then the wind pulls one of the branches to one side, so then the poor mouse stretches like bubblegum and eventually just ! Hundreds of them on bushes! Looked like the Chinese Lantern festival!
That’s it for today, tomorrow the adventure continues!
Don’t miss out on an opportunity to do this tour with us, have a look at the itinerary for the 9 Day, Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour and book as soon as possible!
What a night! I found my camp site, and with some slight blonde moments, managed to put up my tent. Then with great enthusiasm, I decided to start a fire, with the wood I bought in Worcester. My question, after three hours of frantically waving a magazine at the logs, and blowing like a Southern Right Whale the rest of the time, is this: veld fires are trees, still living, and sopping wet, that burns like a mother, right? Then, why the hell do the three small logs, long dead, and slightly damp, NOT WANT TO SPARK up a semblance of a fire? Needless to say, I had to buy new paper plates, and firelighters today. And a new set of braai tongs.
But, eventually after several hors of patient (intended) waiting, I had a small kettle full of semi boiling water. For a cup of coffee. 30 minutes later, I also had about 3 coals to braai my boerewors on. So, supper and cold sorted out, I got into bed.
Thank you warmly to our workshop manager and his wife, who lent me their small, compact tent (to help with the weight in my car). But I do hope they realize it is made of paper? And last night, there was a slight (gale force) breeze in Sutherland. So every time a gust came through, it sounded like somebody was busy crumbling up a whole set of Encyclopedia Britannica next to my ear! And, after my ghostly experience of yesterday, I was not that comfortable with the unidentified noises coming from behind the tent. Then, at 2am this morning, I woke up, in a cold sweat, tried to rush out of the tent, and the zipper was stuck on the side material! PANIC! I got out, on my stomach, through a small opening in the door.
This morning, while rolling up the paper tent, I realized what it was that woke me up. Two bull frogs burrowed in under the tent, and slept right underneath me! I have proof. I took photos of them disdainfully limp hopping away (they misjudged my weight, it seems). So another wildlife injury ascribed to me.
OK, so that was the night’s escapades. Now for the day!
I met with the SAAO (South African Astronomical Observatory) people this morning and got royal treatment with a private tour of the facilities. It seems that an evening star gazing experience would be the order of the day! I was expecting lots of Europeans with white coats running around up there, but not a soul in sight. First I feared an alien abduction, but apparently they all come to put up their telescopes, and then bugger off home, and do the research from there! So, the Polish, Korean and Japanese little hubs looked abandoned, but at least they had a roof over their telescopes while the poor Americans only have 4 slabs of concrete. Their stuff is still being built it seems!
The absolute highlight of my day (and this is unfortunately the proof that I did in fact drive over that poor olive grass snake yesterday, and I know it was an olive grass snake, as it was still lying dead in the road where I left it) was not studying the dead snake, no, the highlight of my day was route R354. Please go and check out this road on a map? It is 142km long, dirt road. So, I reckon, two hours tops, and I will be in Calvinia! As a side note / footnote type thing, I do really want to call Hyundai, and congratulate them on their vehicles. Bullet was a superstar today! Road R354 is the road straight to (or from) hell! And it was not paved with good intentions. It was not paved with any intentions, or tar, or even smooth gravel. It was granite rocks, filed to a sharp edge, interspersed with knee high soft sand, and not to forget the fantastic corrugated bumps in between! Some mountain passes looked like a step ladder, and not a road, so steep was the gradient! And of course, sometimes, all four would be at the same time, same place! So, to get through the soft sand, one cannot slow down. It is go go go!!. The granite MOUNTAIN size boulders require careful avoidance tactics to stay away from a tyre blow out. The corrugated bits looked like speed bumps on LSD! Man, I could park my car in the dips, and needed to reverse out on the high parts. So, slow go, slow go, slow go.
Sand, corrugations and boulders, together on a pass. FUN! Can’t slow down or the car gets stuck, doing figure of eights in the loose sand while dodging rocks and jarring over corrugations, prompting visions of sheer cliff drops at speed, I was surprised to find my pants dry at the end of the day!
I felt like a contestant on the Cape to Dakar race and leading it as not another car in sight, except for the donkey car, who REALLY could have moved to the bad side of the road, seeing as the donkey had LEGS that can’t have a blow out!
All my little blue bullet needed was the Total rally Stickers on the side and the mesh windows. With the amount of dust coming in, it could just have well not have had windows!
I smoked so much, that I am sounding like James Earl Jones as Darth, and all of those had to be lit without taking my eyes off the road or hands off the steering wheel. I do not have eyebrows at present. Not anymore!
Then, finally, blissfully, tar! And I take the wrong turn. Luckily only 20km in the wrong direction which saw me entering the bustling metropolis of Calvinia. I could again do a U turn in the main road without checking for other cars!
Estimated drive time? Two hours? It took me FIVE hours of sweat, tears and eyebrow sacrifice.
I had a blast!
The trucks of course will have an easier time of it, seeing as they carry double sets of tyres in the back, which makes loose sand less of a hassle, and also seeing as the truck tyres have way more tread than normal car tyres, they can take the punishment!
And, in-between I did manage to take some photos, of a desolate landscape where the rocks are actually scorched black by the sun, red clay sections of the road are smooth and in total contrast to the burnt landscape and rivers flow in the most unexpected places – beautiful!
The tarred section saw a return of my tunes! Top volume. And speeding along, I hit the next obstacle. Remember again, the locusts from yesterday? They were itty bitty little things compared to the swarms of red hopping mad locusts that all tried to cross the road. And no, we don’t know why they would want to cross the road! It was wholesale slaughter! On a busy highway, with trucks and 4×4’s and cars. The tar was stained red with little carcasses! And when you approach one of the waves of locusts, it actually looked like a swell in the ocean, as they tried to move faster across the road! Scary! My car still has carcasses hanging from the undercarriage.
I was supposed to go and visit Verneukpan, where they attempted to break the world speed record in 19 something really early, but by the time I got to the first turn off, I just did not have it in me anymore. Neither did Blue bullet, who sounded like a V8 engine at a stock rally at that point!
But, Luckily I am staying at a fantastic guest lodge in Kenhard tonight, and guess what? The owner has a working sheep farm right next to Verneuk pan, right outside town! So the negotiations will begin soon!
All in all, an exhausting, exhilarating day. For me, Blue bullet, and all the wildlife I actually managed to dodge today!
The tally of wildlife stands at:
- Sheep. Lots of them.
- Two donkeys, pulling a cart. On the good section of the road.
- Rock Hyraxes, on a relaxing stroll across the road (as I was not going more than 5km per hour at that point, they did not have to do anything faster than a meander)
- A mini Rock Hyrax (Seriously, it looked just like one, but just very small, with a stick in its mouth. Perhaps he is called Woof?)
- Pale chanting Goshawk.
- Masked weavers.
- Pied crows
- One dwarf mongoose (possibly it was a cat, but I was on one of those hell passes, at full rally speed)
- Family of Suricats, trying to pry the carcasses of the dead red locusts of the road.
- Dead and alive locusts!
Two days, but man, I am exhausted. Tomorrow it is Kgalagadi!
In the words of Bruce (That would be Willis) – JipeeKaJay!!
Book this tour now or you’re going to lose out – 9 Day, Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour
Nomad’s Operations Manager, Tosca Korver, has dangerously been let out of the office to get a closer look at our new tour route, the 9 Day, Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour (Cape Town to Cape Town). Don’t miss out on her epic adventures right here!
From the Road…. Day 1
It was a Massacre!! I left a blood trail from Cape Town to Sutherland! I am so depressed at the moment, drinking a plastic cup of Beyerskloof red, and hope that tomorrow the small animal life will please STAY OUT OF MY WAY!! It started with a Cisticola (little bird) that went Kamikaze on me, and flew into the side of my car! Then, of course it is apparently locust migration season in the Northern Cape, so, yes, quite a few colonies were wiped out by my 2×2 wheels. And then, the Leopard Tortoise, that, not at the speed of light, in fact, at no speed at all, crawled across the road on some unnamed pass. That one I missed, but nearly rolled my car in the attempt, seeing as the Leopard tortoise is on the endangered species list. I think. And then, of course, the snake! Seriously, it should not be on a 45km per hour road. Where I drove 30km per hour, as I was trying to capture the spectacular view from the Observatory Mountain! Not sure if I hit that one, but I think the tail might be something of the past now.
And this was NOT due to reckless driving, or lack of attention! They all just seemed to brim over with a lust for death!
Anyhow, that being said, what a fantastic day. My first vacation leave in yonks (and when I say Yonks, I mean, since the advent of electricity type of Yonks), so the first three hours was of course taken up with thoughts of work, and what did I forget. Then I ran into the Bikers club from Cape Town. At the wimpy about 5km outside of Cape Town(I was hungry, OK), and they seemed to be in such a high spirit for their bike trip (possibly to the Tygerberg Zoo and back) that I also promptly got into the spirit of the Epic adventure!
Du Toit Kloof tunnel, as always, gave me a moment of hesitation. I am not the type to be driving blithely underneath a couple of tons of mountain, and not be worried. But that 4km went past without a ton of bricks coming down on my head ( SA Engineers, ne!). I was very tempted to stop at every farm stall, and trout fishing stop, but managed to contain myself, until I saw the sign post for the Ostrich farm just past Touws River!
Ag cute man! Did a lovely 40 min tour there, with Bob, the Ranger, from Zimbabwe nogal. And low and behold, Bob knows Nomad very well, as he recalls our trucks pulling into Vic Falls when he was still living there.
That bonding session later, I fell back on the road again, looking for Matjiesfontein. Now, it must be said that I have been there before! A couple of times, but strangely, I couldn’t find it this time. Possibly because it has a population of like 3. And is more like a thought of a town, than a metropolis. I eventually pulled off at a truck rest stop, to check my map, to see if perhaps I did not drive past, and was speedily on my way to the Lebombo border to Mozambique (but I do carry my passport, so it would not have been a train smash, except for the 2000km round trip part). 15km later, I stumbled into Matjiesfontein. Originally founded by some Scott, and his wife, the whole town has been declared a national monument. And one can see why. Strangely, it reminds me a lot of Pilgrims rest in its hay day, with clapboard houses, and staff in colonial dress. The Museum was closed, temporarily, as the caretaker had to go to the bathroom, just as I arrived. So I meandered over to the bar, and met the Character of Matjies! He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, pulled me inside and gave me an impromptu tour of Lord Milner’s home. Or lord somebody. (Sorry, I was not really listening that well, as I was too busy looking at the amazing range of weird and wonderful old time furniture!
It seems that my casual tour guide, is actually a jack of all trades, who can play piano ( which he did, bowler hat and all), and a standup comic! He showcased the performance he did on a SA standup comic television show, and if I must say so, he was rather good with his Madiba impression. If it was not for the beer gut, I would have thought I was in the presence of the big man himself!
I took my leave of Mr. Piano man, after he issued an invite to any Nomad group arriving, that he will take them on a 5 minute drive through tour of the town in the old London bus, and found the Museum caretaker back from her bathroom break. And not a tooth in her mouth, but mouthy is a good way to describe her! Fantastic! So, she showed me around, and then she had another urgent call from nature (I know, I also started worrying about the state of the food there). And there I found myself, abandoned in the cellar/basement, dungeon of the museum. Now, as my mom would say in Afrikaans “Ek is nie met die Helmet gebore nie, maar hier kan ek voel spook dit vanaand” ( Translated, I was not born with Du Bois ESP Ghost detection built in, but even I can say that here the ghosts are running free). I felt a cold chill running down my spine, and absolute deathly hollow quiet! Not to throw away my name as a fearless type, I exited the basement at a brisk pace. I did not run.
I suspect that lady caretaker might actually not exist on this astral plain? Maybe she is a manifestation of the slave of the Scott? Halihaaaaa!!!
And just before I jumped in my car, to make haste out of Ghost town, my tour guide from the bar shows up, and shows me a photo taken just the previous week, of him, with a ghostly apparition in the back ground!
Matjiesfontein. A town for all souls, lost or not!
Then, the next 110km to Sutherland. This is where I truly felt I was in theKaroo! Tectonic plate moment that shifted mountains clear out of the sockets, flat ground in between, the occasional raptor ( this route is known as the raptor route, by the way, for those avid bird watchers), and pretty much nothing else. Breathtaking, abandoned piece of land that just shows the magnificence that is South Africa. Ok, enough waxing lyrical! I drove on a deserted tar road and saw some pretty amazing Karoo flowers, birds, and the occasional swarm of locusts. Biblical I tell you!
Sutherland has a population of 2000. I know this because it said so on the sign board at the beginning of town where I realized that I just drove past my camp site for the evening!! But, with a population of 2000, one can make a U-turn, with no traffic in either direction.
I popped in at the SAAO ( the South African Astrological organization?) or some such. And, managed to procure a star gazing tour for the Saturday evening, using SALT! No, no tequila drinking. It is the largest telescope in the Southern Hemisphere. So, one thing set at least, I am going back in the morning for a proper tour, and info session with the powers that be. But, meanwhile the friendly owner of Southerland Caravan Park will give a star gazing tour tonight, through the telescope here at the camp site! Pretty neat!
So, in order to kill some time, I made a fire. Well attempted to make a fire. I cannot see now, through the snot and tears, and also have to restock on Paper plates in the morning. Used them all to keep the wood burning. But it is finally crackling away, the sheep went home to bed (yes, sheep, next to the camp site. Very pastoral, Breughal kind of scene), and my toes are freezing!
All in all a very good day. Except now for all the deaths and dead people. I saw some spectacular scenery, visited two lovely towns, saw an Ostrich and an Emu, O, and a sheep, and managed to start a fire with paper plates and wet wood!
Epic I tell you!
To pre-empt Tosca’s next day on the road and see where she’s going – have a look at the Karoo, Kalahari and West Coast Tour itinerary!
How do you feel about going on a 7 Day Camping Tour from Cape Town to Swakopmund? For FREE!! And a 25% discount for your travel partner.
To make this dream a reality, all you need to do this November is grow the most creatively NoMADic moustache we’ve seen!
Send us your pictures of your Movembers! Frovembers and Logomos will be accepted too. Girls, no mo? Mow your hair in any creative fashion and your entries will be accepted too. Don’t be cruel to your pets but if they look like they have a cool potential Mopportunity for a photo, get them involved! Creative hair is what it’s about and the more Nomad’esque it is, the better!
Enter your photos by:
- Post them on twitter using #MoMad @NomadTours
- Post them to our facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/NomadTours
- Email them to email@example.com
- All entries must reach us by the 30th November 2011
- “like” our facebook page www.facebook.com/NomadTours
- Follow our blog: https://nomadafricaadventuretours.wordpress.com/
- Follow us on twitter @NomadTours
- Follow us on LinkedIn www.linkedin.com/company/nomad-tours
- For every photo that is entered into the competition and qualifies as above, Nomad will donate R2 to a charity selected by the owner of the winning picture.
- Movember: When Men Grow Mustaches For a Good Cause (bellasugar.com)
- Moustache Madness: Movember Emphasizes Fun, Not Guilt, To Raise Millions For Cancer Programs (fastcompany.com)
- Movember & The Facial Growth Starts (sparkthedebate.blogspot.com)
Rioters crashing through the streets, inhumane living conditions, congested, overpopulated, polluted, a mess. These are the graphic images that have stayed in my mind after a presentation by Bulelwa Ngewana, Managing Director of the Cape Town Partnership, about a fast growing city of Seoul, South Korea, hungry for development but with no feelings for it’s people.
A turnaround happened for this city as it was selected to be the World Design Capital 2010, the focus shifted to the people of South Korea and a general improvement of their living conditions ensued.
Today it was announced that Cape Town will be the Design Capital of the World for 2014 and we couldn’t be happier! Everyone in Cape Town wants a better future for their neighbours, friends and families and we believe that this is another opportunity for all of us to get involved and enhance general living conditions for all through design.
Keep your eye on Bulelwa Ngewana, Grant Pascoe, Andrew Boraine, Michael Wolf, Patricia de Lille, the Cape Town Partnership, Cape Town Tourism and the general design fraternity in Cape Town as they bring our city together and transform the lives within it.
If you’re feeling inspired to be part of the transformation, make sure that you keep on creating these opportunities and vote for Table Mountain to be included as one of the New 7 Wonders of Nature!
You’ve island hopped to see sea lions and hammerheads in Galapagos, you’ve been blown away by the corals and colours in Indonesia, you’ve coursed the Caribbean for turtles, frog fish and brightly shining tropicals, the Barrier Reef and the Red Sea – more of the same – it’s time to try something a little more off the beaten track and wild (ok, so I may be a little biased, please don’t take offence)!
There is only one place in the world where you can lay your beady eyes on the Big 5, dive with tiger sharks, hammerheads, reef tips, silkys, whale sharks, great whites, ragged tooth, cow sharks and manta rays! Not forgetting the smaller toothed tropicals. On this tour, when you finish your epic dives for the day and you think the adventure is over, we hit the road and go and visit more big toothed animals in the Kruger National Park and Swaziland.
Fern Perry, owner of Lutwala Dive, Master Scuba Diver Trainer and Technical Instructor, specialises in large pelagic diving and she will run all of the dive tours. Fern is particularly interested in the preservation and conservation of the species that she works with every day and you will find that while on tour, you will be introduced to passionate professionals who will give you further insight into the lives of our incredible marine life.
We have a 20% discount on two of our tours, departing 23rd and 26th January 2012. Seats are limited so get in contact with us as soon as possible if you’re keen to join us on this epic adventure! If names like Aliwal Shoal, Protea Banks and Paia Do Tofo excite you, this is the tour for you! Contact us on firstname.lastname@example.org or visit our website on www.nomadtours.co.za to find out more about this incredible journey.
- Write Like You Know (psbeason.wordpress.com)
- Week one (jessisatthebeach.wordpress.com)
- Traveling to Tofo – Praia do Tofo, Mozambique (travelpod.com)
On the 17th September a truck full of excited adventurer’s set off from Johannesburg to be the first guests on our 16 Day Camping, Zimbabwe Rediscovered Tour. Zimbabwe has really come a long way in the last 3 years and has been working at re-establishing it’s National Parks and getting the basics back into good working order. Zimbabwe’s people have always valued having visitors in their country and now they have the opportunity of welcoming travellers back to their most incredible homeland.
One of our agents, Chris du Preez, joined the tour and is absolutely raving about it! Chris’ highlights included game viewing in Hwange National Park, the two night canoe adventure on the Zambezi River and the Great Zimbabwe Ruins. The spectacular scenery and unique activities certainly make up for some of the longer days on the road.
Below are some pictures from Chris’ tour, if you’d like more information, please contact me at email@example.com . You can also see a full itinerary of our 2011 and 2012 tours on our website (30% discount for 2011 departures)
Come and explore Zimbabwe with us, and if there’s something else you’re looking for, we have a huge selection of tours for you to choose from and loads of excellent specials for 2011 departures! Please visit our website for more information: www.nomadtours.co.za
Thank you Chris for these wonderful images of your Zimbabwe Rediscovered Tour.