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.
There are bugs here and as we are essentially living outside, they are our constant companions. There was a infinitely small, bright green praying mantis on my shoulder while on a drive one day. 
There were the biting ants at the hot springs – we had to move the truck for them – and at the Indian/Atlantic Ocean site. Mosquitoes haven’t been too bad. No need for malaria meds yet, Anopheles mosquitoes are not in the Kalahari.
Witsand had some spectacular specimens. Why would a grasshopper be so brilliantly colored? Isn’t he all that much more obvious to predators? And check out the cricket, he has armor with spikes – how cool is that?
Campgrounds with lights really put on a show. The globe at Sakkie se Arkie had a halo of flying insects. 
A light on the outside door of an ablution block means running a gauntlet of grasshoppers in order to shower. One night there were scores of praying mantis in the bathroom, then I never saw them again. Where did they go? And why aren’t there more of them, there’s plenty of food.
Ants are getting in the truck and are likely impossible to dislodge completely. We are always seeking shade, and ants love trees. We will transplant them from camp to camp.
Nature Reserves are common here – many offer camping, chalets, bird hides, guided tours and even popular restaurants. We have noticed that NRs tend to be better cared for than the public sites. Private monies see to it that these places are built to last.
Witsand (White Sand) NR is in the southeastern corner of the now green Kalahari about 2.5 hours from Upington. Its extensive sand dunes start out red and are leeched to shades of light pink and white. The area has a long history with the aboriginal people and the more recent farmers and cattle grazers – and that’s because it has water. In the driest climate imaginable, Witsand is graced with a very high water table due to the dunes being nearly 70 km deep and able to hold the H2O. People could scrap a shallow hole and delicious water would come to the surface. Donkeys were used to grind larger ponds for cattle and the land quickly became a favorite of the Boers. Naturally the British wanted it as well and skirmishes gave rise to rock walls built for defense in the Boer wars. The water was worth any fight; it tastes fantastic, a delightful surprise for us.
We call ahead to ask about camping, no problem at 600R(rand) for two nights. When we arrive the receptionist says no, it is only 400R – the camping is free, we only need pay the conservation fee. Far be it for me to argue. There are electrical hookups, deep shade and even a swimming pool. It pours rain as we choose a sheltered spot and there is one other couple camping. We settle in for the weekend.
There are no large predators here, no lion or leopard or hyena. Elephant and giraffe once roamed but no more. That’s ok – there’s colorful insects, tortoise, 
monitor lizard, ground squirrels, springbok, oryx and other creatures. And we can walk anywhere – there is even an awesome bird hide. The other campers leave and we once again are all alone, even to where we swim naked in the perfect pool. It’s hot, why not?
Before we leave, we drain our water tank of the treated Upington water and refill it with the delicious Witsand water – we will miss it when it’s gone. And we’ll miss Witsand too, what a wonderful spot for the time frame we needed to fill. Now it’s back to Upington and the fateful dental appointment.
Encountering our first real set-back, we leave the hot springs for Upington, looking for dental care and a new communication device – we’ve lost our trusty and capable phone. That in itself is not an insurmountable problem but it will be a long time before we can reach the level of communication Jim worked so patiently to produce. Maddening but not life threatening. The toothache is a different story.
We call ahead and ask about road conditions to this hot springs after the monster storm – the connection isn’t great but how bad can the road be? We’ve been driving up river beds posing as roads as it is.
This area is known as the Green Kalahari and agriculture makes good use of the Orange River. If you guessed they are growing grapes, you are so right. The Orange River is the eighth longest river in the world and it seems every drop is feeding vines. Many signs read “Empowerment Farm” and I’m curious as to who is being empowered. And what will happen when such a huge monoculture is struck by disease or when the grape market does a dive. Or as Jim comments, when the water dries up. Meanwhile, there is plenty of water today.
Someone is looking out for the Riemvasmaak tourist district, it’s plain to see. The road is nicely graded and then turns to pavement for a short way into the town. There are well-tended gardens, a large new clinic, a school, and fresh paint everywhere in a town of maybe 500 residents. Still, there is no real grocery store. Kids ask for food. We buy rocks from them and hand out granola bars.
Following the signs to the hot spring, we go deep down into a canyon and meet up with 
Henry and his friend – these are the “guys” at the springs.They tell us we have to drive across the Molopo River, running now for the first time in two years, pouring red mud over the rocks. For a river crossing it isn’t too severe and by the next day the water has stopped running.
The hot springs themselves are simply perfect – clear water, not a hint of sulphur and the temp is 90+, ideal for soaking. Three pools are developed and one is hidden in the rocks with cooler water. The stars are superb, the hooting of an owl echoes up the red walls, and we are all alone.
Pofadder is pronounced like the snake, Puff Adder. A nasty, disagreeable snake, common all over southern Africa and the snake most likely to bite to people. Garden workers are often bit – this snake doesn’t even pretend to avoid people. Pofadder the town is small and has a desert charm. Lots of mining in the area; South Africa is endowed with great mineral wealth, little of which seems to trickle down.
Fueling up in Pofadder, the shy attendant smiles and says “we don’t get much rain here” – her words and voice making me think she’s lived here all her life and has never seen rain. We skirt the huge black clouds; the front of the storm creates a horizon wide dust tornado and instead of a bath the Beagle is drenched in sand. 
Driving lights are necessary. Plans need to change, there’s no camping in this sandstorm. We aim for the Kalahari Guest Lodge and Camp in Augrabies town and the skies open up as we arrive. Camp is up and dinner (soup again) is ready in 20 minutes. It’s a nice place, for being right on the road. And it’s been there a long time, judging by the size of the plants. There’s two dogs, a cat, and the camp manager has a gorgeous orange parrot on her shoulder. We are the only ones there.
Should we go into Augrabies National Park? The fine folks we met on the western shore said the Vervet monkeys were bold and intrepid – nothing was safe from them. Jim has a sling-shot – Gary told him he’d need to pack his own rocks as well, there weren’t any left at the Augrabies campsite. Vervet moneys are notorious in camps and towns all over the southern hemisphere. The males have turquoise blue balls but the cute factor ends when they make off with dinner.
There is a hot springs on the map. Can’t resist a hot springs even when it’s 88f out and about the same in humidity. We skip Augrabies and head that way.
Huge round granite mountains line the road to Springbok, oceans of granite that appear to be the mantle of the earth holding down the roiling magma underneath. 
This is not so far-fetched a feeling; Africa is the oldest and most stable land mass on the planet. John Reader’s Africa: Biography of a Continent is a fantastic resource and we carry a copy in the kitchen. He talks about how 3,600 billion – yes, billion – years ago rock was formed that today is the mantle of earth under Africa.
And yep, Springbok is hot. We have no way to measure the temp, but we aren’t out of line to assume it is well over 90, pushing 100. There are people everywhere on the streets; big Afrikaner farmers, fishing guides, laborers, ladies, kids; it is Friday midday and the grocery store is absolutely packed. Everyone is pleasant and the different clothing, hairstyles, skin colors, and languages make grocery shopping feel like a big carnival.
We fill the Beagle with water, food, and fuel, and drive around looking for a shady spot to put all the provisions away.
Judging by the day the solar shouldn’t have any problem keeping up but we are filling both fridge and freezer, giving them a workout by heading off into the blazing interior. The surface of Mercury aspires to be this hot. The landscape is a unforgiving as can be but of course there are goats – and surprisingly, horses. Lots of horses, and of all colors. Who’d’a thought?
We find an oasis at which to camp, actual green grass next to the river. Not a soul around. It’s hot and humid. On day two a herd of goats comes by to drink, followed by the three herd dogs . As dog besotted as we are, and as cute as they are, there’s no petting them. We didn’t get the rabies vaccine. Fireflies come out on the last night – what a marvel they are. Did you know many different species communicate by their blinking lights? Fantastic.
Baboons wake up late. Somebody is grumpy and picks a fight, the screeching and howling is a caveman’s nightmare. Birds are more subdued. It’s a special place, happy to have found it.
If you are keeping track (Marlene!) we are on a heading due north, with plans to wild camp until we get to Gronesriviern and the Nampqua National Park. We proceed with four navigation devices – five if you count intuition. 
Camping at this 1994 shipwreck I imagine the captain being totally fed up with his GPS and running aground just to get it over with. For us the urge to throw the ipad out the window and run over it has passed, for now.
I am writing this while sitting on the sand in front of the Atlantic Ocean, watching its remarkable foam tide. We’ve never seen or heard of anything like this foam. I’ve seen what’s called spin-drift, that soft cotton candy foam that the Pacific offers. This foam is something else all together. 
Yesterday afternoon, the waves were like meringue, thick, viscous and pure white. They pushed ashore miles and miles of foam, moving under the piles of it like undersea monsters. Meringue coated the rocks as if someone dumped paint on them. This morning, the fancy white foam all up and down the beach has deflated and what’s left is smelly grey-green stuff. But more is on the way, I can see it off-shore. What is it exactly? I’ll have to find out.
We enter Namqua National Park from the south gate, the only place where staff is posted. Flamingos graze the estuary nearby. 
The SANS Park staff are friendly and knowledgeable – they tell us they’ve seen many snakes. The Cape Cobra is famous in these arid parks; its bright orange color unmistakable. I would love to see one preferably from the (closed) truck window.
Namqua is a land of contrasts. There’s the open Atlantic Ocean on one side and as far as you can see, shrubs and succulents on the other. Water looks scarce until the fog rolls in. A colony of meerkats are standing up; as sentinels they can see what’s coming but by standing up they create a different shape than the surrounding shrubs and are somewhat easy to spot. I dig meerkats. We spot another colony down the road.
Less cute, but still a hoot, is a colony of thousands of Cape Fur Seals. I’m hard pressed to describe what it smells like. 
Like the bottom of the ocean all stirred up. Down the road are ostriches and the shy Pale Chanting Goshawk – always staying still until the camera comes up, then off he flies.
And so it goes until we reach our first assigned campsite in many nights. Nothing fancy, a windbreak for a cooking fire and compostable toilets right on the shore. 
For the first time in days we meet fellow campers. They come over with a couple of cold ones for us – how’d they know we were down to our last Castle beer? SA native Gary is a large animal vet specializing in wild creatures and Annie is battling South Africa’s work permit bureaucracy which could be a career for her. They leave us with a 6-pac and their phone number to visit them in the Limpopo area. Now when a South African invites you to visit, they really mean it. We’ll take them up on it.
To continue our route, again for those of you keeping track, we’ll leave Namqua and resupply in Springbok, a charming and very hot town inland. Our goal for the rest of February will be to visit Augrabies National Park, near the South African/Namibian border, and the famous Kalahari Transfrontier Park, where we traveled in 2013 with Adrian and Rentia. 
A different season will make it a completely different park; instead of sparse grass and little water, we should see greenery and baby animals. That is, if we can get in. That park is so popular that many visitors make reservations a year in advance – like trying to get that perfect spot at Redfish Lake. We have no reservations. But something will happen – it always does.
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