I'm feeling a bit grumpy this morning. We are up early but still the last to get our tent down. There seems to be a competition amongst the group to be the first to get their tent down and packed. If we are told to be packed by 6 you can guarantee some are packed up by 5. I hadn't realised it was a competition! Ok...that's my rant, I feel better now. Anyway, we are ALL packed and on the road by 8 and after about an hour pass through the Namibian border control. So it's farewell, Namibia, we have loved you, you are spectacular!
 |
|
After a kilometre or so we come to the Botswana border control. We enter the tiny office and are almost overwhelmed by our reception. It is a noisy and boisterous uproar as the staff, with beaming smiles, shout welcomes and greet us all by name. The best welcome I have ever had to any country. We leave the office and travel for several hours through fairly non-descript scenery noticing, however, that the villages appear more affluent and the landscape is greener than Namibia. There is an air of confidence about the place and the people.
We stop for lunch under the shade of a large tree by a service station. Two Herera women are walking along the road opposite us and Gary suggests we invite them to lunch. They happily take up the invitation and since Ronney is Herera too he enjoys chatting to them. We continue on our journey, at one point having to get off the truck and walk to make the load lighter for a dicey bridge. We stop in the service town of Maun so that some of our group can go to the bank.
 |
|
Judy and I want to buy a farewell card for the group to sign for Ronney and Jonas so we race around town trying to find one. What a mission!! We run from shop to shop, up stairs and down, through dusty, dirty, alleyways and a local market where people eye us suspiciously, past a woman squatting and urinating in the gutter and finally find a shop which sells cards. After all our efforts, though, we cannot use Namibian or US currency so we have to leave the card we have chosen and find our way back to the truck. By this stage we are quite stressed and worried we have kept everyone waiting but we get back to find some are still queueing at the bank. Just as we are leaving town Trevor realises he has left his passport at the bank and the bank has now closed. Fortunately a security guard manages to retrieve the passport for him. We arrive at Sitatunga camp late in the afternoon. By the time we pitch our tents and set camp it is dark so we have showers and then Hils, Gary, Judy and I head to the bar. The bar is decked out in New Zealand and All Black flags, pictures and memorabilia and we discover that the camp manager is a proud New Zealander. We get chatting to a number of young travellers who are on a seven week trip around Africa...and we thought 4 weeks was a long time! They are travelling in one of the large overland trucks and the idea of the trip seems to be to get drunk every night and sleep every day. I guess they will boast of their trip through Africa when they get home but, in truth, they will have seen very little. Their tour leader comes into the bar. He is a grubby, barefoot, tattooed european, another embarassing example of a european guide in Africa.
We are all feeling a bit sad tonight. It is our last night with Ronney and Jonas and they have been exemplary. We could not have asked for more and we have all felt a great rapport with both of them. Our new guide for the Botswanan part of the trip comes to the camp to give us a briefing. Ike is an articulate, intelligent and very handsome man but we do not warm to him immediately. Jonas cooks us a special meal tonight, well more special than normal, of lamb, corn, and potatoes with chocolate ice cream to follow. After dinner we farewell Ronney and Jonas. Judy makes a speech on our behalf, Ronney and Jonas reply, then we sing "Now is the Hour' and link hands to sing "Auld Lang Syne". Ronney is quite choked up and tearful. There is no use expecting any sleep tonight....the young overlanders party noisily into the early hours.
Photos: (1) I try some Kudu horns for size, (2) A pretty half-hearted attempt at bio-security, Botswana border, (3) Sharing our lunch with a Herera woman, (4) We get out of the truck and walk across a dicey bridge to lighten the load, (5) Our last meal with Ronney and Jonas, Sitatunga Camp, Botswana,
(6) Ronney looks bemused as Hilary and I farewell him, (7) Farewell our friends!
No comments:
Post a Comment