Old Mercedes never die!

The next morning as we drove back towards the main road, we came across a battered old Mercedes car at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.  We were flagged down by one of 6 / 7 guys who had the previous night been travelling from town to the lodge. It had suffered a flat tyre as they didn‘t have a wheel nut had continued to drive until all the rubber had been flayed off it and they were driving on the rim. At this point they had given up and had spent a cold & hungry night huddled in the car.  We tried to get the nut off with our tools but couldn‘t shift it.  Luckily a family from Durban also stopped and with their more hefty brace managed to get the nut loose.  The next problem was that the Merc was too rusty to support a jack and it needed everybody‘s effort to lift the vehicle to quickly swap tyres.  Unfortunately, the spare was also flat but I dug out my compressor (at last it‘s used for its proper purpose rather than just inflating the mattresses) and inflated all tyres. The other problem they had was that their radiator leaked — just the thing in the middle of the desert.  As fast as water was poured in the top, in gushed out of the bottom.  We gave them some water and some chewing gum to block the hole and watched them, after a couple of hundred yards, bump start the car — evidently a flat battery was also one of their problems.  It looked as if they would arrive at the lodge much later than they had planned but only shortly after the start of their morning shift.

Back on the road we trundle ever Northwards as the land slowly changes from flat terrain to more hilly and then almost mountainous.  The only distraction being when we catch up with a tour bus travelling just too fast to overtake.  So we sit in its wake just back from its long dust plume until, fortunately, it stops at a roadside souvenir stall.

We stop off at Twyfelfontein to see its famous rock paintings and formations.  This area is so hot that even the car park has a sun awning for the vehicles.  The Reception building is very architectural / industrial and is made of old oil drums.  We are allocated Bernadette as our guide – she is very fast moving and we are soon glad that we opted for the shorter route.  The paintings / etchings are deceptively simple but are very evocative of the animals portrayed.  The elements have also over the millennia sculptured the rock into strange shapes.  After climbing up and down the hills we were glad to return to the Reception building but unfortunately, although there was provision of a shop to sell icy drinks, it never seemed to have got going.  So we headed back down the road and found shelter under a big tree and hit the drinks from the Disco‘s fridge.  To see more photos, click here

Our home for the next two nights was to be Palmwag Lodge. As we arrived and were booking in at reception (the bar — very civilised) one of the staff members was having her wedding photos taken on the lawn by the pool.  One of the poses had her lying at the feet of her new husband — we weren‘t sure that this was one that would be widely adopted back home.  As we finished the paperwork, a big bull Elephant wandered past in the adjoining dry riverbed but unfortunately, by the time we had retrieved our cameras, he was long gone.

Our pitch — the same one as I had used a couple of years ago – was quite enclosed and private with walls on two opposite sides (one supporting an awning and the other forming a brai stand), the third was a low wall overlooking the river bed and we parked the Disco across the fourth.  We spent a lazy afternoon by the bar and pool finding what shade we could from the cruel sun.  The next day we took one of the self–guided walks from the camp.  It crossed the dry river, rose slightly and then followed the rover for a while over stony ground and round the occasional bush.  We saw Kudu, Gemsbok and Springbok but although we saw Elephant footprints, we saw nothing bigger.

Next day we set off for Africat — one of the longest drives of our stay in Namibia.  After miles of very little we had a very welcome break in Outjo and tested the fare at its famous Bakerie: the home made pastries that were well worth the drive.  And so on to Africat and the Okonjima Bush Camp.

Now the term ’Bush Camp‘ may conjure up an image of tents and long–drop toilets.  Nothing could be father from its reality.  After you have been through security at the gate from the main road, there is a drive in across the ubiquitous flat dusty plain until you bob down through a couple of dry river beds and then up a short climb into the hills.  Soon you start seeing road signs warning of big cats and warthogs.  The lodge‘s carpark is an unpretentious sandy area but as you walk in you descend into the reception area where you gaze out through the lounge and eating area over a small lake with Gemsbok grazing just on the other side.  The main public area is kidney shaped with the bar and lounge to one side — this also has a large circular open fireplace for the chilly nights.  The other side is the dining area.  One side of all this area was completely open to the view with canvas screen that could be quickly dropped to protect everybody from the wind and/or rain.

After the formalities were taken down to our own rondavel.  There were only eight if these — four each side of the main building.  They were round with the wall facing the bush completely missing and replaced with a number of easily rolled up canvas screens.  There didn‘t seem to be a straight line in the entire place — all curves.  The shower etc was at the back screened by a sloping sinuous partition separating it from a large bed and the lounge area.  The later area contained a large sofa (which could double as a single bed), a comfy chair, a fridge and a kettle.  This whole area was slightly lower that the rest of the accommodation, so you could sit and look out at the passing game.  There was also a plentiful supply of seed so that you could just throw it out and see the large flock of squabbling Hornbills, Doves and LBJs swarm down and vacuum it up.

An excellent light lunch had been provided and afterwards we sat in our lounge, reading, feeding the birds and watching the procession of game to and from the lake.  We had been told to return to the main area by mid–afternoon for our game drive.  But first we had to partake of afternoon tea — a selection of freshly made cakes and cookies, together with a whole spectrum of cold & hot drinks.

When we were eventually dragged away from these delights we set off for one of the big camps (enclosures) to see if we could find one of the Leopards.  Despite the fact that they all had radio collars fitted for research purposes, it seemed very difficult for our guide to pick up the signal.  We and the other two vehicles out that afternoon drove round and round, backtracking and bumping over the sandy roads.  Eventually, we picked up a signal and, after some bundu–bashing, managed to see a female in the dense bush.  I only saw her rear quarters disappearing around a tree but I think other saw more.  The highlight was when a man from one of the other vehicles, whilst only 25 metres from the Leopard, got out and walked around the back to climb back in to get a better seat. Not the most sensible thing to do within charging distance of one of Africa ‘s most unpredictable animals.

Back at the Lodge we were treated to a very tasty dinner during which we got to know our fellow guests a bit better.  There were a trio of youngish people from Switzerland who were travelling around southern Africa and a two Brit couples who were on posh self–drive tours of Namibia.

The next morning, at a very early hour we were up and walking down from our comfy rondavel in the last of the starlight for a light breakfast of more freshly baked muffins and hot drinks.  When we were dragged away from these, we were led into bush for the Bushman Walking Trail.  We walked through the bush with a guide and a ’bushman‘ and very so often we stopped and another element of bushman life was explained to us.  We saw how jewellery was made, how to trap Porcupine and birds, the way in which you made rope, bows & arrows and potent poisons for the arrows.  Just as it was starting to become too hot to walk, we saw the lodge in the distance and, there we were, back just in time for brunch.  The highlight of these for me was the big griddle in which you could concoct your own omelette and wait for it to be cooked to just the right consistency in front of your eyes.  Our afternoon activity was a visit to the Africat project complex where its work was explained to us and we went, armed with a big bowl of meat bits, to find some Cheaters.  These were all ones that, for some reason or other, were not suitable for release back into the wild — over 80% of those that pass through the project are released.  The animals came storming in for the meat bits and we were soon surrounded by sleek, spotted running machines.

The next morning we went up to the other lodge (not as luxurious) to see the three lions they had in a ’camp‘ and to pick up a number of people that were staying there.  These turned out to be people from the UK who raised money for the project and seem to come out every couple of years to visit.  From here we set off to track some more Cheaters.  When we had, after a long search and some from some field researchers, arriving at an area where one was supposed to be, we decamped from the vehicle and headed on foot into the bush.  It was a very open area with only a few straggly bushes — but we still didn‘t see the animal until we were well within 50 metres.  We managed to get even closer — it didn‘t seem to mind us, just occasionally raising its head to check where we were.  Moving on after a while, we picked up another signal and were talked into the location by the two researchers who had found another.  By the time we arrived and walked into the much thicker bush, we just missed it killing a Kudu.  Without upsetting it in any way, we managed to get very close and were treated to a bloody spotted face looking through the grass at us.

Regretfully, it was then — after a quick brunch — to head for the road again.  Retracing our journey of a couple of days ago, we headed Northwards and revisited the Outjo and its excellent pastries.  The final stretch of the journey into Etosha was longer than I remembered but we negotiated the entrance, booked in and headed to   Halali where we were to spend the first two nights.  On the way we saw the usual straggling lines of Zebra, scattered groups of Wildebeest and Gemsbok.  We stopped at a number of the waterholes along the way and those that weren‘t dry didn‘t have much game in attendance.  That was until we came to one that had a couple of Giraffe — these were just standing a couple of hundred of yards from the water looking very intently across the open area.  This is a fairly common activity for this species that is always nervous when approaching water and exposing itself by cranking all that way down to drink.  After a while, when it showed absolutely no sign of moving, we had a closer look at what it was staring at and, one by one, discovered a pride of 10 lions – 4 females and 6 cubs / sub–adults. They were hid in the shade away from the water well away from where we were parked but a couple of the smaller ones ambled down and lapped some water.  All this activity was too much for the Giraffes and they made a tactical withdrawal. A good start to our visit to the NP.

When we eventually arrived at Halali we decided that, rather than camp on the barren and wind swept camp site, we would have one of the small air–conditioned rooms.  It was all we needed clean beds, a fridge and shower.  We unloaded the gas cooker from the Disco and Breda cooked our evening meal just outside the front door.  However, after a long day‘s drive and drinking gallons of water, my appetite had gone and, for the first time ever, declined her meal.  Afterwards, we took a walk up to the waterhole which held many pleasant memories for me but on this night it was empty.

The following day we decided to explore the Eastern end of the NP and headed up to explore area around the Nanatomi campsite.   Along the way we saw lotsa prey species, two young male Lions staking out a waterhole (or they may have just been sleeping) and another solitary male Lion hidden under a bush close to the side of one of the minor roads.  We called into the campsite for a snack at its restaurant and, whilst I checked out the waterhole (empty) Breda wrote her postcards and caught up on world news on CNN.

The next day we drove Westwards to the Okaukuejo Camp where we had another small air–conditioned room for the night.  Rather than cook on Breda ‘s last night we had quite a good buffet meal in the camp restaurant where we were treated to some local songs & hymns by a staff choir.  The waterhole at this camp has always provided me with excellent entertainment and this night was no exception.  In the light of the floodlights there were four big bull elephants taking the waters but off in the fainter light on the edge there was some indistinct movement.  After peering through the binoculars for some time, the dim shape of a Lion was seen. There was a sudden movement, seen out of the corner of an eye, and the Lion ended the life of some unknown animal.  Then after some more scanning there was a second Lion trying to dispute ownership of the carcass.

Our stay in Etosha ended very early the next morning and we headed South again for the seven hour drive down to Windhoek in time for Breda‘s flight home.  Breakfast was at the Outjo Bakerie (you can’t have too much of a good thing) and, after another couple of hours, we had a further stop partly to top up with fuel, have a quick snack and a visit to a market selling a wide range of wooden curios.

Back at Rivendell we met Alan from Nomad, together with Di & Peter (just back from Okonjima close to which we had passed them unseen). Breda sorted out her baggage and had a shower to wash of the last of the Namibian dust.  We headed into town to inspect the souvenir shops but on a Saturday they were all closed by 1500 !  So after a last meal, we headed the 25 miles out to airport and for a while watched a Jo‘berg flight transfer enmass to the Air Namibia London flight.  Apparently, by making this a cheap option, it was the only way it could make that flight viable.  Because Namibia was having problems with its fuel supply, Breda‘s flight was to be via Luanda (Angola) to refuel substandard – what was to be 45min stop turned into 2 hours!!!!!  It was sad to say goodbye to Breda and her excellent company (to say nothing of her cooking) and return to flying solo.

Back at Rivendell I watched Manchester United getting thrashed 4–1 by Middlesbrough — Alex Ferguson‘s face a picture of discontent.