While there will never be tele-porting space travel, this is the nearest thing to it; fly from an earth-bound African village (of sorts) and l
and the middle of a historic European city such as Amsterdam. What a shock. Just leaving our hotel room at the outskirts of downtown and riding the metro into the city center left us open-mouthed. And how could it not be this way? We were nearly as shocked when seeing everyday life on the African road. It is good to be amazed no matter which road you travel on.
Amsterdam is a beautiful place steeped in arts and culture. And food, let’s not forget the food. Choices of bread alone are endless and my mouth is watering seeing the fresh loaves of bread in every other window. We picked up some appetite stimulator (when in Rome, right?) and take advantage of all opportunities. 
The metro and light rail systems are ideal and to no longer be driving in a strange place is freedom personified. We can walk anywhere and when tired, we can ask anyone how can we catch a train or a bus to wherever we need to go. And they will tell us, exactly. They won’t make anything up or advise with a wave of the hand, “… it’s just some kilometers that way” . We know now that we 
have left the planet Africa.
Museums are plentiful and we spent a full day in the Rijksmuseum and nearly all the next day at the Van Gogh. In-between, we wandered the canals and enjoyed the parade of 
fashion going on around us. The style leans heavily on black and grey – we fit right in except for shoes. Bright patent-leather did not make into my luggage, but I will look for some when I finally get home – even if I don’t have a place to wear orange/pink oxfords. Despite a day-long cold rain, bicycles are still the most prolific form of personal transportation; they are lined up three deep and blocks long in various places. It is inspiring and I cannot wait to ride my bike again. 
There is much to contemplate at the end of this long journey. The people, the places, the events. Before departing we were fortunate to dine with our Oregon friends Jen and Jared, who were in staying near us in Joberg. Cynthia and Frans at Meerkatsplaats gave us a fine farewell and reminded us that we must come back to Africa and camp with them. Adrian and Rentia are on the road, doing their own camping trip – we envy them their route north. But we’ve 
been there, to the north. We’ve been so many places and made so many friends in the last two years. Now we return to our other friends and family and our home on Deer Creek Road. Tough to beat that.
Saying goodbye to Botswana and the people at Okavango River Lodge was as emotional as any of our partings. We’d quickly made friends with Caroline, the proprietor’s mom (she’d been in Bots since the 60s) and in the space of a couple of hours we’d formed a fast friendship with an Aussie photographer – I hope he shows up at our doorstep in Idaho one day. We even camped next to a couple we’d met in Kenya. Small world.
Botswana was a joy, from the parched Central Kalahari to the soggy Delta. When people ask us what is our favorite place (and everyone does), Botswana rises to the top – to compete with the other favorites. Botswana has kept the camping wild – many places look much as they did 15 years ago when we first came to Africa. We will return to this 
marvelous country one day.
Meanwhile, we are high-tailing it back to South Africa. What’s the hurry? Well, we have someone very interested in buying the Toyota. It is time to pass the Beagle on to the next traveler, and to find our way home. Believe it or not, this was always the plan. And somehow our plans have worked out despite most of them being just dreams.
How to manage this final project – find a place to unpack the truck, have it cleaned inside 
and out, then arrange to meet the buyer’s agent. Without knowing where all these chores are to be done, we just picked the town of Muldersdrift on the west side of Johannesburg. Lucky us – we found the perfect place. Meerkatsplaats is a charming B&B with a free-standing cabin, ideal for our needs. Plus the owners Cynthia and Frans are dreaming of a similar trip to ours. There couldn’t be a better place for us to spend our final week in Africa.
And luck is still holding. The buyer interested in the Beagle is a gentleman from Germany we met back at Twiga Beach where we spent the 2017 holidays. His friend and agent, Hans, is only a few kilometers from Meerkatsplaats, and we drove there in the freshly valeted Beagle – who wouldn’t be impressed? The inspection and test drive were almost perfunctory. Before we could gather our wits and change our minds, the deal was done. If you are wondering are we sad (yes) or do we have sellers remorse (no) . . . well, this was always the plan and the plan worked.
The Savuti region of Chobe National Park is a very long way from Maun on roads that go from hard pan to deep sand in the time it takes to look away. The Savuti has been made famous by films such as “Eternal Enemies” about the relationship between the lions and hyenas – the hyenas don’t fare well – and by the brutal drying out of the Savuti Channel in 1982 which led to the deaths of so many creatures. Water has come and gone here for centuries, right now there is a minimal amount. Animals concentrate at whatever water they can find.
We stopped for a break beneath an enormous baobab and chatted with a couple of guys who were doing the same. They mentioned lion near a waterhole – no big surprise – and we took an afternoon drive to the site. Considering we only had one night in Savuti and we don’t know the region very well, we were happy to have some advice.
There was a very large thorn bush near the waterhole and some shade there, so we parked and waited. We did not drive around the waterhole looking for the lion. But to our credit, we also did not leave the truck to fetch a snack or take a pee. Good thing. Not 30 feet from the truck, the lions were piled atop each other under the thorn bush we parked next to. How do 12 lion fit under a bush? When they begin to roust and stretch and drink, it was a parade of lion of varying sizes. And aren’t these cubs the cutest? They pestered the adults no end. Kids.
Many safari vehicles came and went, pleasing their guests with this exceptional sighting. We enjoyed our (safe) view. That night in the sandy camp overlooking the dry Savuti Channel, the male lions roared all night long and in the morning we went out and found them directly behind camp. This time we needed no advice on where the lion were keeping themselves – they made so much noise they kept us awake. Again we were joined by other rigs, full of early morning happy safari-goers. Including us.
Five baobab trees growing on the margin of a dry white pan in Nxai Pan National Park – what is so special about that? For one, these baobabs are enormous and close together, not a common occurrence. A huge specimen has fallen down, like an overturned flower vase, but continues to grow. All of them have been growing here for at least 1,000 years. Thomas Baines painted them in 1862 and they have been “Baines Baobabs” since then.
To be the only campers at Baines was a big surprise to us. We had tried twice to secure a booking only to be rejected; with only three campsites available, that is understandable. Persistent, we went back one more time to the booking office and managed to score Campsite 1, arguably the best camp on the pan. We had the whole pan to ourselves. It was as peaceful and serene as any place on earth. Darkness turned the famous trees black and sinister-looking. They 
don’t notice, they just keep growing away on the edge of the pan.
Back in Maun, the congenial Okavango River Lodge is home. With a variety of c
amping options available we chose ORL, which happened to be the first place we pulled into. I love it when that happens,the first place is the right place. Maun is a lively little town, the harmonic convergence of safari guides, safari rental vehicles and safari-goers. With some of the most sought-after destinations on the planet and a solid economy, Bots really draws the tourists. Not that they give tourists a break, this place is absolutely not cheap. Worth it, though. If you like this kind of thing, camping with elephant and lion. And hyena. What a hoot.
You may have surmised that we are in Botswana. But weren’t we just in South Africa attempting to extend our visit? Yes. . . well. . .turns out, SA was happy to let me stay for a few more months but they did not grant Jim the same courtesy. Time to leave, and really, it was a relief to just drive away from SA and bureaucracy. Time to go camping instead of hanging around a visa office. Time to go hang out in a campsite reservation office in Maun instead.
Besides CKGR and Makgadikgadi, the hypnotizing Kalahari desert has more parks for us to visit. Nxai Pan (pronounced Nie) National Park and Baines Baobab Reserve are chock-full of fenceless camping and they contain enough predator species to keep us on our toes, not that we are slacking after the lions at Njuca in Makgadikgadi.
Nxai Pan campsites are unfenced, but the ablution block is ready for war. The eight-foot wide concrete slabs woven with spikes of rebar repeal the elephants. The elephants don’t like this. A trio of bulls hovered near the block, trumpeting and rumbling all day, even though there is a perfectly wonderful waterhole only four kilometers away. We left those ellies to their ablutions and headed for the waterhole, content to park the truck and let the show come to us. We were not disappointed.
This lion pride entertained the waterhole for two days. Eight lions; one youngster, six females and one male. After shading up in the heat of the day, they would wander out of the bush to drink and socialize in the evening. The male does not appear to be the pride male, but only an off-spring and likely to soon leave the pride. He tolerated his sister/cousin to sit on him. She went and found a stick. The afternoon went on. 
Bull elephants appeared out of nowhere to refresh themselves, and test each other. There is plenty of water in this waterhole, but no, they all want to drink from the same place – the incoming water valve. There is a whole bunch of elephant energy posturing there at the edge of the water, and one lioness could not resist teasing the bulls. The other lions did not join in, why work so hard when you 
don’t have to? Still the lioness looked quite pleased with herself. As the day ended, a typical and stunning magenta/mango/pink grapefruit sunset completed the picture. Nxai Pan waterhole is easily reached from Maun; we based ourselves there and resupplied for the next sector, Khwai and Savuti.
The red indicator light on the dash flashed on at about 7:30am, in the Njuca Hill section of Makgadikgadi. We have not seen anyone in two days. We know what the light means. It’s the battery again. A connection becomes overheated and eventually melts the wiring. Fixing it requires time and experience which we have in abundance. This isn’t the first time the light has come on.
However, it is the first time we have come to a halt and gotten out of the vehicle in the wild Makgadikgadi Pans Game Reserve. Until now we have felt like we could camp safely; even the shower contraptions are close enough to use after dark. So here on this single-track road to nowhere, we find ourselves gingerly exiting the 
truck after we coasted to a slow stop and left the engine running. Now, do you know how hard it is to NOT shut the engine down? It is so automatic; we had to keep reminding ourselves that if we shut down, we won’t get started again. That would be bad. When will someone else come along? Who knows? So keep the engine running and let’s have a look-see.
I popped the hood and while Jim checked out the cables, I quickly looked around. Huh. What the …. is that in the road behind us? I did not see that a minute ago. Distances are so deceiving, it looks like Bat-eared foxes. I alert Jim – what do you think? While the binoculars just aren’t getting a sharp enough image, I shoot a photo of whatever it is, and I blow it up for a better view.
Oh, dear me. Or words very much to that affect. Those are lion. Three lion. No, six lion. And they are starring right at us. Shit. They are too far to charge us before we can escape into the truck, but still. Jesus. Jim already knows he can’t fix the truck here, so we after a quick discussion we opt to jump in and coast backwards to get a better look at the lion. Is that stupid? considering if the engine dies we will not be able to get out of the truck? We take a chance. It was worth it.
The Central Kalahari Game Reserve. South of Maun, west of Rakops. Botswana. Given the name, you might think it is an extension of the Kalahari Transfrontier Park. No, no, not quite. For starters the CKGR is far more remote. And if this is the center of the Kalahari, it stands to reason that being here is akin to being in the center of nowhere. It is a huge game reserve, one of the largest in the world. And as you might have learned from Wild Kingdom or NatGeo, the Kalahari might look lifeless but it is anything but.
Camped at Sunday Pan, the isolation we felt here is not apparent from the TV shows. 
There are ve
ry few roads and fewer vehicles. If you are going way out, it is a very long drive. We really are out there. An undulating sea of grass waves its way to the far-off horizon. It is still but it is not quiet. The bird songs and insect hums ebb and flow. Our camp looks out on an endless view. The shower contraption is too far away to feel safe walking to in the dark so we shower at the truck. No one cares. In the morning we will go out early and see what’s what.
Bat-Eared Fox aren’t really foxes at all, they are more in the jackal family. They pair for 
life – and yet they look like they are having such a good time this morning.
Just like me and Jim, right? After all this time, 70K+ kilometers in the truck, days (and nights) spent living outside and we are still digging every second of it. Bat-Earred foxes simply add to the wonder, as does the exquisite Violet-eared Waxbill. How is it such a brilliantly colored bird lives here in this grassland – he looks like he belongs in the tropics. As a seed-eater he is more at home here where the seeds never end. His cousin on the rock is the Black-cheeked waxbill, a different color scheme and every bit as gorgeous. Bring on the birds by setting out water, three or four bowls scattered about will do. Try not to suck up all 
the digital in the world taking pictures.
Pale Chanting Goshawks often dog the Honey Badger. What luck to find them together, two badgers and two goshawks having a final snack before retiring for the afternoon. We wandered about as well, eating breakfast in the truck and pondering the next move. Makgadikagadi Game Reserve is calling us. It is closer to the edge of nowhere rather than the center but still crazy solitude awaits.
Have you ever dreamed of a bird so astonishing? One that makes you drop your binoculars and gasp out loud – or worse, drive off the road in amazement. Luckily I wasn’t driving when this Southern Bald Ibis appeared. They are as spectacular as the stars and planets, although not nearly as numerous. SB Ibis roosts in communes on cliffs overlooking the Crocodile River at the Lowveld Botani
cal Garden. Unlike many of the remarkable birds I stalk, this species is pretty much always in the same place and easily photographed once you get over the shock of seeing it for the first time. They are (of course) on the vulnerable list – habitat loss, poisoning, and other human-caused fatalities are taking their toll. As you can see, some of these SB Ibis are banded and are being studied. We can hope for them.
Of the more difficult species to shoot (and I mean with a camera) are the Purple Tu
raco. Large and flashy, they spend their time high in the trees eating fruit. How does such a big bird whip through the branches so fast? And how do they know to hide behind a stick or stem when they see me coming? Purple Turaco possess a feature that no other bird on earth has. Besides the ubiquitous carotenoid and melanin feather pigments that are responsible for feather color in all birds, the Purple Turaco have two other pigments. So special are these pi
gments, they are named after the Turaco, “turacin” is a red pigment and “turacovedin” is a green pigment. Together the pigments give the bird an extraordinary and unmistakeable magenta color on their flight primary feathers. Should I be lucky enough to capture an image of this
color I will consider it a lifetime achievement. Patience + persistence + proximity = luck
And on it goes. The elephant/baboon standoff at the water tank. The thousands of buffalo stirring the dust in the mopane. The lioness’ stalking prey in broad daylight amidst the cars. Hennie and Miempie, a couple we met back on the Wild Coast, and who invited
us to visit them – a special afternoon. They remind me that there are so many people I would like to see again, and likely won’t. As with some birds that I would fall to my knees to glimpse just one more time, some people will have to remain a fond memory.
It would be painful to leave Africa after all this time without seeing wild dogs. Their appeal is obvious, the beautiful colors of their coats, the giant ears, and just the fact that they are dogs makes seeing them a top priority. But finding them is the difficult part; as said, the Kruger is huge. Cursorial hunters, the dogs hunt by running down their prey and running is done early in the morning and evening. The rest of the time, they lay in shade; down in the grass they are nearly impossible to spot. What might give them away is the flicking of their white-tipped tails and their big ears.
And so it was that we came upon a vehicle parked beside a main tar road at about 1pm on a very hot day. We coasted up behind them and turned the engine off. (BTW, there should be a special place in hell for those who leave their engine running at sightings). Not 100 feet off the road, laying under a thorn bush, there is something . . . and the flick of ears and tails gives it away. Wild dogs. OK, now yes, we can say we saw wild dogs – but as you can imagine, just seeing them laying on t
he ground is not exactly optimal. They aren’t doing anything. We watched and waited but it is so hot – we take a chance and head back to camp for lunch after marking the sighting on the GPS. We’ll come back soon, with any luck they will still be here.
Afternoon drives are tough. You can only go so far before you must turn around in order to make your gate before it clo
ses. The dogs are at the far end of the distance we can travel. We park in same spot and patience pays off. As the air cools and the shadows lengthen the dogs perk up – it is action time. The two groups of animals, about 20 feet apart, burst into a frenzy of greetings as though they hadn’t seen each other in years. Yipping, laughing, running circles around each other, they are a joy to watch. Their posturing and submissive behavior comes across as hugs and kisses, to anthrophomorphise (again). They shove and tackle one another for a time then drop to the ground apparently exhausted by all the sociality. What a si
ghting for us dog-lovers, one we will never forget. To top off our efforts, as we drove back to camp (with just enough time to make the gate) Jim spotted two Honey Badgers in the grass! Another creature we so wanted to watch. We are the last vehicle to pass into camp, fully satisfied with a spectacular day in the Kruger.
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