The Beagle, a 2008 Toyota LC on a drift across Africa, piloted by Jim (FitzRoy) and Ann Colleen.
The Beagle, a 2008 Toyota LC on a drift across Africa, piloted by Jim (FitzRoy) and Ann Colleen.
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.
A series of private game reserves make up the Tuli Block in Botswana. The landscape is similar to Mapungubwe Park which is not far as the crow flies. Elephant rule here. The Mopane forest is groomed down to bushes by the hungry beasts and the baobabs are scarred from elephant tusks. It is an unforgiving landscape, hot and dry with copious amounts of acacia thorn bushes and rocky trails. The Croc shoes I’m wearing do not stop thorns, come to find out, 
but better crocs than bare feet for now.
The Limpopo River Lodge (LRL) is the only self-drive property on the Tuli Block, and on 
top of that attraction, the camping is superior. We asked the young lady who checked us in, if we don’t like our site, can we move? She smiled and said, you will like it. And was she right. The ablution ranked as one of the top four (open air shower, hot water, beautiful layout, stunning view) and the campsite was right on the water. We kept going back to the office to book another night. Waterholes are spaced around; many hours were spent at them observing elephant and other animals’ behavior. The endless parade of birds, including my holy grail, the Violet-eared Waxbill, were a 
bonus. Book a week at campsite #1, you will not regret it.
Next stop was only 27 kilometers down the main road, at Molema camp, which was perfectly fine although nowhere near the LRL in style. The Limpopo isn’t flowing here, there are only pools of water on the riverbed margins which we could walk to during the day. The guides tell us nothing about what to do if something other than birds surprise us at the riverbed. Fortunately only birds were around. We booked an early morning game drive to see what else was out there.
Leopards appear so supremely confident. Look at this one, isn’t he just perfect? He was in 
plain sight of the track, lounging around while we admired him. Not a care in the world or so it seems, and may it always be that way. This Black Eagle chick isn’t so confident, but damn cute just the same. The Black Eagle parents have raised chicks here for 10 years, our guide told us, and only two of the chicks have successf
ully matured. The nesting site is too low. Baboons and leopard can easily reach a chick in this nest. We wish the chick the
best and climb down from the cliff and wander back to camp. It is time to go on down the Limpopo and back to Mapugubwe Park for a few days, and why not? We loved that park and what a privilege it is to spend time there again. We’ll be back to civilization soon enough. Then it is on to our third and final trip to Kruger National Park – “The Kruger” as it is called. Yes, it will take three trips to see it all, and it will be worth it.
There is time to contemplate how far we’ve come, from Cape Town to Kenya, to the beaches of Mozambique. Jim asked me where I thought we’d be without the Garmin and Traks4Africa – I said “Back home and divorced by now.” We are happily long past the point when every other minute brought on another decision. Tension ran high; that’s what comes of the being way outside your comfort zone. What would we change, now that we have time to think about it? Nothing, really. We couldn’t have taken this overland trip any sooner in our lives and the best time to go is when you go. The route has been successful – we calculated we’ve been on beaches of some sort since November, can’t 
complain about that. Neither of us has been sick. We’ve been through four different coffee presses, five decks of cards and one iPhone as well as countless cans of Peaceful Sleep insect repellent. We will not miss 
the mosquitoes.
There are places to return to and some gaps to fill, next time. Driving Namibia for months gave us a full view of that endless country. Botswana needs another look, hopefully before this trip is over. We’ve already been to Zimbabwe twice and will go back again later this month, so much to see there. Zambia is a favorite, where I am positive we waved to every single person in that friendly country. Tanzania nearly broke the 
bank but with its iconic parks it could not be missed. Zanzibar showed us our first taste of the slavers coast plus powered-sugar white sand beaches. The side trip to Ethiopia, that exotic place, was perfect. Camel 
caravans hauling salt into the sunset – what a scene.
Rwanda – a sobering lesson in humanity. One day we came to a nondescript village and it was time to get out of the truck. A large Genocide Memorial stood out, as in every single town and village. Only this one wasn’t quite finished yet. The very young security guard called an older gentleman to show us around this newly built but empty building. And the blank walls spoke as loudly as any placards. The hollow hallways echoed the footsteps of everyone who would never walk t
here. Finally we found ourselves in a basement containing 38 coffins, displayed neatly as if in a show room. Some had framed photos propped upon them, others had snapshots scotched-taped to them. To our undying surprise, the guide opened a coffin and handed us a small human skull. All these coffins have skulls, he said. At this location a church was bulldozed with thousands of people in it. His children are here, in one of the coffins. He shared his photos of them with us. We thanked him, signed the guest book and drove away. Rwanda; a country where everything is new because there was nothing left.
The primates in Uganda revel in the simplicity of life. We camped, all alone, in the Kibale forest and had a troop of 50+ baboons invade the clearing; they played, groomed each other and goofed off all morning, just having a good time being together. On the eastern side of the country we came to one of our better decisions – we really wanted to drive a certain road to enter Kenya. On the map it looked totally doable. But it was raining. Hard. And pondering the options,
we bypassed that road only to later meet a couple who had taken it; a heart-stopping track, they said “like driving on butter.” We spent a few minutes patting ourselves on the back for not going there. Of course that was prior to being desperately stuck in the mud twice in one week.
Kenya, that most organized of countries, gave us so many new friends. Eldoret town, Lake Turkana, the National Museum, JJs in Nairobi, Samburu Park, the fabulous Twiga and Barefoot beaches, Malindi town – I would go back to Kenya tomorrow. It took days for me to get 
over leaving Twiga; I kept asking myself why we left. But leaving there led us to Malawi and to time spent with our friends Jen and Jared. And on we go; more of Mozambique to see, more Zimbabwe, South Africa and camping with Adrian and Rentia, Swaziland, Lethoso, Botswana . . . where will it end?
We travel through the Caprivi Strip, with its neat villages and colorful people walking down the road where war raged just a few years ago. The Chobe River Lodge had rough camping under a huge tree; we are alone the first night and then are invaded by six safari rigs pulling caravans the following day. Next stop, Chobe Safari Lodge (not to be confused with River Lodge) in the town of Kasane. Chobe Safari Lodge boasts being in business since 1959 and I think that might be the last time the campground ablutions were updated. It has to be hard to keep up thatch roofs and camps that flood nearly every year, I imagine. On the upside our campsite is hidden right on the river and filled with singing birds, mongoose, monitor lizards, monkeys, and warthogs.
We stay two nights then move on to Senyati Camp, 10 kilometers away and much drier. They have an underground bunker at their waterhole and one can sit down there to film or watch animals at ground level. If you are not claustrophobic and don’t mind the odor, it is interesting. Check out the extra “trunk” in this photo!
We spend one night in Kubu camp, on the river again, but they are renovating the campground and we must move down the road to Big Five Safari Lodge – an excellent choice. Kasane and its sister town, Kazungula, has everything we need to prepare for Zimbabwe.
Jim has been concerned about tires and the SupaQuick tire shop is Kazangula has some choices that he likes. We ponder exactly what to do: buy all new tires, change brands, get only a spare, get two spares – if decisions burned calories we’d be hungry all the time. So we get one new tire, a different brand, one that Jim likes, on a rim, and he spends the better part of a day affixing it to the top of the Beagle.
Now armed with two spares we take off on an all day game drive, and guess what happens next. . .
Continue reading…
We bought a duvet comforter a couple of weeks ago, in Tsumeb. We’d been getting by with a couple of lightweight techno covers and Jim’s 30-year-old down sleeping bag that he made from a kit – remember those? We almost brought my down bag (purchased in Jackson Hole in 1978) but couldn’t find the room. Just as well. The new comforter is the right size and the color even matches the “interior decorating” of the camper. I’m surprised how pleasing that is. However, the cozy comforter does make it harder to get out of bed in the morning. The weather has gotten colder and drier.
Creature comforts are expendable. A real toilet? Whatever. A functioning shower? If there is hot water everything else can be ignored, such as the enormous spiders sharing the stall. “Donkeys”, the so-called wood-fired boilers found all over Africa, heat the water. The Beagle has a gas geyser that heats a bit of H2O, enough for rinsing off before bed. It’s been a month since we have been in a hotel room.
Beauty, an aptly-named young woman, works at the entrance to one of the smaller parks. She shows me on the park map (decidedly not a 4-color, tri-folded brochure map, but a plain black/white piece of copy paper) where the border of the park is. “There is no sign”, she says. “We do it the African way”. The park ends where the paved road begins. It is the African way.
Jim and I now say that to each other every day. The African way is signing in and out of the parks on ledgers so full of scribbled names, no one will ever put them in a data base. To always be asked “where are you going” is the African way. Stopping your truck in the middle of the road to tell the boss man you have a park permit, that is the African way. And on we go.
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