A donkey in the shower? (up-dated version)

So I have just returned from my first dry run of my travels. Boetie (brother) and I went on a massively epic trip through Botswana up into Namibia. In a very full 1992 model navey blue mazda. My mom's old baby. And boy did she do us well.

Phillip (boetie) qualified as a commercial pilot (with 225 flying hours) at the end of 2010. So he decided he wanted to take the gamble that is Namibia, and go and apply to the various charter companies in Windhoek and Swakopmund. I was asked to come with, to be there to help with driving, moral support, another person support, as well as taking the opportunity of seeing that part of the continent that I havent seen since 1999 (and 1995 for Botswana). We crossed the Skilpadshek/Pioneer Gate border post in the early morning of the 31st of Jan. We had to make a (very long 3.5 hour) stop in Lobatse to renew my mom's car registration (my family only returned to South Africa in 1994, so the mother's car was bought and reared in Gabarone).

Our stop that night was Kang (+267 651 7294 or ultrastopkang@yahoo.com; R40/adult/night camping), about 350 km from the Botswana/Namibia border post. I have to say, in all my travels and odd places that I have been to, Kang makes top in two things: one, it consists of an Ultra-stop, a BP petrol station and a capsite/chalet over-night stop for travellers. That's it. Only there because between Jwaneng and Manuno (at the border), it's the only place where travellers can get their car's refilled; two, Kang has THE BEST water! There is nothing in Kang excpet the above mentioned petrol stations and campsite. Not much to pollute the tranquil water table, not much to muddy up the water as it lays still and clear, deep under the hot desert ground.

Botswana is hot. So very, very hot. And the mazda was hot, very, very airconditioner-less hot. But with all the rain Botswana has been getting she was beautiful and green and lush and just spectacular in her expansive savannahs. Now Botswana has no fences on the side of the road. So donkeys, goats, cows and horses joined us as we travelled the road. Beautiful, plump, shiny-coated animals they were. They looked cool and fresh, standing in the heat of the road. A lot of them here were in the road. Not moving much. Mostly the stationary animals decided to use the road as a base of non-movement. So in our heavily loaded 1.6 engine mazda it would take us a fair few minutes to reach a nice cruising speed only to have to slow down to a 1st gear spead while the animals turned their heads to survey the on coming blue thing... register that they are in the way... consider their options of either staying were they were or moving... decide that they should be polite to tourists and move... turn their heads back to the direction in which they want to move... take a step... check once more that they really do need to move... and eventually move off. Slowly.

That was until Jwaneng. At the petrol station I noticed a white car with the words "Botswana Highway Patrol" written in blue lettering along the side. There was an odd sound systen contraption on the top. Didn't think much of it to be honest. Cars are not my speciality so I couldn't even identify it. We left Jwaneng and a few kilometres outside the Highway Patrol car came flying at us out of no where, swerved around us and disappeared into the distance. Phillip remarked that it was a very fancy R300 000 subaru. On we drive and catch up to said vehicle. Said vehicle is on the opposite side of the road. Said vehicle drives slowly on the wrong side, right on the edge and above mentioned animals quickly scamper out of his way. Said subaru vehicle is the highway patrol vehicle in charge of chasing animals off the road. The sound systen above emits a low pitch rumble. This coupled with the ominous approaching of a fast vehicle gets animals to quickly skedadle. If that fails, out comes the arm of the driver with a long horse riding whip to crack in the air and sufficiently get the animals gone. We watched one particulaly stubborn donkey being chased for a fair few metres along the side of the road until he gapped it. Ah Africa! I might have been cheeper to fence the roads, no?

And so we crossed the Botswana/Namibia border on the second day and entered the desert, good and proper. Well, really good and proper desert was actually only enterd into when we left for Swakopmund (apparently I was reading because when next I looked up there was only sand. Not even one stunded bush attempting vague livingness). Windhoek is a city. Nothing much to comment there. People are quiet in Namibia, no raised voices. Damn, even the cars are quiet. I stuck out like, well, a very loud person in amongst very quiet people!

I bet you're wondering where the donkey in the shower comes into the story?

Ah, fear not. He enters last. We stayed in a campsite 15km outside of Namibia, called Elisenheim Guestfarm (+264 61 26 4429 or awerner@mweb.com.au; R70/adult/night camping). A river trickled slowly past the entrance. It was silent and surrounded by hills. Horses lived close to the campsite and so their soft snorts were added to the lazy calling of birds.

It was here that we encountered the donkey - the pot bellied stove that needed to be heated up in order for us to have a hot shower in a bamboo fenced shower that opened up the sky above us. I loved it. Boetie was not very impressed. There was an open toilet as well. A flush toilet on a concrete slab, surrounded by bamboo with the view of tree branches above. Ah the freedom. I could have stayed there forever. But we left soon for Swakopmund, to a slightly smelly coast (due to the harbours), but none-the-less pretty place. Swakopmund is also full of very quiet people (!).

Highlight of Swakopmund? On the last day, not 10m from us, in the waves in the surf, a school (or pod? What is the collective noun for...) dolphins joined us in playing in the waves. They surfed them almost as professionally as I did;-) They jump through the air, rolling over in mid jump, landing on their backs again, with the ever present dolphin grin on their faces. Oh man, do I want to be a dolphin when I grow up!

I have to say, the sunsets at Langstrand (our campsite) weren't that shabby either...