April 9-12, Mokuti Lodge, near Etosha National Park, Namibia

Longest, hottest day on the road so far, 637 km of land with few animals and fewer people. The Canadians, Juan and Per decided to add yet another 35 km in order to ride down a dirt road, at the end of which was a large meteor.

Our hotel here features solid walls, and it took me a night or two even to notice the thatched ceiling high above our heads, so used to the material I have become. And there's internet here! Plentiful, free, and no password required.

This little cutie is a steenbok, a tiny antelope about Zucchini size.

The last two days have been filled with long morning and afternoon game drives through the park, which I've been told is the largest national park in the world, and the only one visible from space. Having seen the great salt pan today, my skepticism has vanished.

Yesterday morning, I climbed into the truck with Rob, and nearly as soon as we entered the park, we were surrounded by herds of zebras, springboks, gnus, gemsboks... so many creatures it was nearly impossible to take it in.

 Further into the park, the season's lushness (it appears we are in a ten-year flood year) meant that traditional watering holes lost their value as viewing sites, and the wildlife spread out considerably.

Still, the animals rarely gave us more than a passing glance, and we approached so close as to be able to reach out and touch some of them. This, of course, is strictly forbidden, as is getting out of one's vehicle anywhere except at approved safe areas.

Journeys of giraffes last night spanned the horizon, sharing their grazing and browsing lands with zebras, egrets, wildebeests and springboks. Driving down the gravel park roads, we had to be careful to mind the frequent zebras in the road, none of which showed the slightest interest in moving until they were darned good and ready.

This morning, after our visit to the pan, we spotted two rhinos in a distant field. Drawing closer, we trained our binoculars on their noble faces, shocked to find that we were seeing a pair of exquisitely rare black rhinos. These beasts have shorter heads, longer horns, and pointed mouths fit for browsing the leaves off trees. Their cousins, the white rhinos, with their longer, lower set heads and wide, rectangular mouths, subsist by grazing. While a bit more plentiful, they also face ever increasing threat from poachers, interested only in their horns, valued at many thousands of dollars in the Chinese drug market. According to Rob, poaching has reached the horrifying numbers of two rhinos per day currently, making rapid extinction of this rare beast an imminent threat.

Last night, our last night of the trip, the Mokuti staff surprised us with a sundowner, bundling us into a safari vehicle and driving us out to a silent airstrip in the bush. There, we were met with candles, a picnic, and canvas chairs where we sat to take in the vast African sky, full of stars and galaxies and all the miracles of the universe.

Tomorrow we leave to ride to Windhoek, the last day of this trip. While I will be very happy to be home, I will miss Africa. Her raw, majestic reality will stay with me as long as I live. 

April 8, Down Day at Divava Lodge, Divundu, Namibia

Happy Easter! We've been so separated from real life, that it was an effort to keep track of the day. Our traditional Easter includes church, family, lots of food, naps, pretty clothes... Here this year we find none of that, making the meaning of the day that much more poignant. He is risen. He is risen indeed.

Here are some fun things about this trip:

This morning, through the foliage between our cottage and the river, we watched a group of boys pole downstream in a dugout canoe, strip down, and spend a happy hour playing, washing, swimming not 50 meters from a sign reading, "Beware of Crocodiles and Hippos." Local people believe that the river is theirs to use for bathing, drinking and fishing, and use it freely. They feel that when it is their time to die, they will die, so choose not to worry about crocodiles, snakes or hippos.

Weaver nests on the river. The male builds nest after nest, until he constructs one the female can't tear apart. Once satisfied, she gives him his joy, knowing that the eggs and chicks won't fall out into a hungry snake's mouth.

New foods we've eaten: impala, sorghum, gemsbok, wildebeest, kudu, bream, waterbok, water buffalo, eland, springbok, monkey gland sauce.

Time: the things we would prefer to go slowly go very fast, as in road speeds. Things we would like to be fast are painfully slow, as in Internet (when we can get it at all), and settling bills at hotels and restaurants.

Most of the monkeys are as smart as we are, and more devious.

This little vervet (cat-sized) is quite satisfied with himself after robbing a dozen sugar packets off the breakfast table and inhaling them like cocaine.

They call it darkest Africa for a reason -- we've yet to find bright lighting, even to the point of literally needing flashlights to read menus. And if you have to out on makeup by a 15-watt light, well, why bother.

No clocks. Anywhere. Or outlets by the bed to plug one in.

Electrical outlets are few and far between, and never in bathrooms. Maybe this is because local people don't require things like flatirons or hair dryers.

Outdoor showers are the norm, and I love them.

There are no self-service gas pumps. Once you get used to waiting for the attendant and your change, it's nice to have someone do this for you.

In the US, "Share the Road" signs refer to motorcycles. Here, we've seen signs warning of cattle, elephants, various boks (antelope varieties), even painted dogs. And they aren't kidding.we've had to stop for all of these, and more. With the traffic going more than 140 kmh on 2-lane roads, lane splitting, and looking into the brightest sun I've ever seen, I'm amazed and astounded at how little road kill there is.

And finally, the sunsets are nothing short of amazing.

April 7, Chobe, Botswana to Divundu, Namibia

Thank goodness we didn't have to ride back out through the sand!

John and Rob cautioned us at the morning briefing that we had a very long day ahead, one that would hold the most challenging border crossing of the trip, and where we might encounter problems finding fuel. Oh, and a million or so km of riding through pretty much wall-to-wall-bugger-all.

Alrighty then! Let's go!

First on the agenda was a 60-km trip through the Chobe National Park. The speed limit there is 80 (cool!) and we absolutely must stay together. Rob would lead, and we should be hyper attentive to wildlife, and to his signals. Charging elephants, hungry cats, snakes, even hippos were entirely to be expected. Okaaaaaaay.....

The first few elephants ignored us as we rode respectfully by. But about 25 km into the park, Rob came to a stop as a large bull lumbered briskly across the road, ears flapping in warning. From his position at the front of the bikes, Rob could see the tell-tale signs of musk, tears streaming down the elephant's face.

The real fun was yet to come, however. Out of the bush came charging a younger bull, trumpeting, menacing, running, and generally letting us know he was pissed off at the world. He started for us, then turned to follow the herd. Changing his mind, he turned back toward the bikes. This dance continued for what felt like 10 minutes, though it was surely not that long in real life. Finally, he ran for the large herd on the other side of the road.

If you look closely, you can see Susan climbing the baobab tree, or trying to.

Upon existing the park, we came soon to the border, where a huge baobab tree bade us farewell. The Little Prince came immediately to mind, and it saddened me that no one in our group had read this classic.

Since there were no services between the border and Divava, the Chobe lodge had packed us a picnic lunch, which we enjoyed in a pullout by the side of the road.

By now, I was riding pillion with David, as my bike totally died shortly after we fueled up at the border tax station. I remember heading and feeling a loud pop or bang about 10 km down the road, and 50 or so km after that, the bike simply quit. I went to roll on the throttle, and there was nothing there. Thank goodness for Ayres -- John was right behind, and having worked on BMWs for 20 years or more, he knew what to investigate. When even he couldn't get it running, we loaded it onto the trailer and I climbed on with David. Both of us were surprised by how well we ride two-up together.

Another 100 km or so later, we all pulled of the road for a stretch, and were immediately swarmed by eager children. Some of the riders had come prepared for this possibility, with packages of pencils, candy, hats and other trinkets to distribute. Others had been collecting hotel amenities to hand out. 

Looking past the crowd, we saw yet another of the traditional villages we've seen across Namibia. A tall grass fence surrounds a community of houses, each perhaps 3 meters wide and either round or square. Walls consist of sticks and mud, roofed in thatch. Areas for living, farming and animals are separated by stick fences, all of it quite organized and tidy.

Finally, we arrived at the Divava Lodge, yet another oasis of luxury in the bush. Our room, filled with the scent of rattan, feels like the restful place it was so clearly meant to be.

 

April 6, Mosi-oa-Tunya: The Smoke that Thunders

Sometimes the tourist thing saddens me, with the crowds of people and their loudness, irreverence, pushiness and obliviousness to their surroundings. And tourist hell was what I expected as we boarded the crowded bus in Kasane for the day trip to Victoria Falls. After we cleared the border between Botswana and Zimbabwe, we boarded a different bus, this one with our own personal guide, Abiat.

Victoria Falls, one of the seven natural wonders of the world, reminded me of Niagara in many ways, but without the power plants and congestion. While the national park built around it is certainly busy, particularly on a beautiful day, the masses and throngs weren't nearly as intense. And how can  you go wrong in a place where sounders of warthogs freely graze any patch of grass?

Abiat, a Zimbabwean native and guide for nearly 20 years, clearly knows his history and his naturalism. After he gave us all rain ponchos, we began walking the two miles or so of trails leading to various viewing stations. The constant roar of the falls, and the torrential rain created by the pounding water, made photography a challenge. But imagine the sheet pouring rain and wind of a strong summer thunderstorm, all in brilliant sunlight!

Susan looked like she had a million diamonds in her hair, courtesy of the Victoria Falls mist.

Betty Anne had a bungee jump off the 110 meter Victoria Falls bridge on her bucket list. While the Canadians went off seeking suicide in the no man's land between Zimbabwe and Zambia, we went to lunch with Abiat. A man of our age, he told us about life in the violent, war-torn days of his country's history during the Rhodesian War. He still carries the metal identification card that served as his only defense against getting shot in those days.

Even today, Zimbabwe is still in rebuilding mode. When we crossed the border going in, we had to pay $30 each U.S. for our visas. The Canadians had to pay $75 each, because of the state of relations, trade and reciprocity between the two countries. I thought it was quite convenient to be allowed to use US dollars, but Abiat explained that the entire country uses our currency because their own had become so inflated as to become worthless.

When the Canadians returned from their death plunge (Sheldon did it too), Susan had also discovered the currency. On a street corner, she purchased a fistful of Zimbabwean dollars, incurring the wrath of the local constabulary. She's so generous -- Susan readily shared her wealth, and I can now say I have 10 billion dollars in my wallet. 

According to Abiat, however, that wouldn't buy even one stick of gum.