Botswana

NOTE: The Dates and locations of the section headers now correspond with the actual events.

We woke up at 6:00 a.m. to start our elephant trek - our guides were taking us walking around the island we were staying on. We walked inland quite a distance from clearing to clearing spotting tons o'animals along the way. The animals are really funny; they'll run away a bit then stand there and stare at you; run some more and stand and stare at you. Throughout the course of our walk we saw (in order of appearance): red buck, impala, baboons, a stork and a tsesedbe (one we can't spell OR pronounce) to name a few. We also came upon a herd of wildebeests who had one zebra hanging out with them. The thing is that the wildebeests are so stupid that when they went to go run away from us they ended up running around in a circle in the clearing. The poor zebra started running in a different direction and since the wildebeests didn't know any better they started following the zebra. As we were walking off it appeared that the zebra no longer wanted to hang out with a bunch of animals with brains smaller than its own, but every time it went anywhere the plebe wildebeests would follow.

We started walking back to our camp when we came across a herd of buffalo standing in a clearing. Now buffalo are a totally dangerous African animal with a bad attitude. The locals are way scared of them and make every attempt not to piss them off. The buffalo have this reputation for always being in a bad mood, even though they don't look that menacing with their 1950's boufontic looking hair-dos (that would be their curved horns).

When we saw the herd the guides told us to be really quiet while we watched and waited for then to run away. After a while the buffalo got bored and headed off to the next clearing in a cloud of dust with the thundering of hooves. We started back towards our camp again, but after another twenty minutes of walking we found yet another herd of buffalo grazing in a huge field. We sat there behind the trees and bushed watching them for a while, but the buffalo knew we were there and wouldn't move - they just stared back. Our guide shook a sapling and clapped, which effectively sent the buffalo to the far side of the clearing so we could pass. We started walking out into the open field towards our camp - each of us eyeing the buffalo as we went. The buffalo were too curious and really wanted to know more about these people walking through the field, so the entire herd (about 150 of them started slowly making their way towards us as we meandered by. This was really disconcerting to us humans, so we took a few quick steps towards the trees (which we were going to use as viewing towers should the buffalo get any closer). We stood there and stared the buffalo down until they moved back a bit so we could continue to cross this field.

We left the safety of the trees and actually crossed in front of the herd. This was really groovy for the herd as now they could get an up close and personal look at a human. Slowly but surely the buffalo began to walk across the field trying to get a better look at us. When the buffalo got a little too close one of the guides began to jog a bit towards the trees (which were 30 meters away). When a local begins to take quick steps, normal white people run. We all ran a few yards away then stopped to see where the buffalo were - just in case they'd decided to follow. We rather looked like the animals that had been pulling the same method of viewing us as we entered each clearing. We were now the smaller animal on the food chain and apparently, instinctively, used the same technique. The buffalo were far enough away for us to continue to cross the field, but we all still had a certain amount of adrenaline running through our veins until we got to the next set of trees - where we know we could easily escape.

It was walking across the field where it hit me that I have come this far to see these animals in their own environment. This is their turf, and when a herd of buffalo decide they're going to eat some Europeans for dinner there's nothing anyone can do about it. It's exciting seeing this stuff first hand - especially like the buffalo - but it makes you realize that this is the true, wild Africa - the one we came here to see.

We finally made it back to camp after our three hour nature hike and immediately made a bee-line for our drinking water as we were all parched. We'd brilliantly forgotten to bring our large jerry can of drinking water so we were forced to boil pot after pot of Delta water for drinking. Not the best tasting stuff, but it did the trick and none of us managed to get sick. Later that afternoon there was an optional ride in the boats which I opted out of because I was beat. We made dinner a short while later and when we looked across the field from our row of tents we spotted a giraffe munching on a tree, followed by a herd of wildebeests who thought a jog across the field might be good fun.

It's amazing to see these animals just wandering around in the wild. We had the most surreal sunset that evening. So beautiful - you'd never believe the colors nature can come up with, plus we had the perfect crescent moon hanging in the sky with Venus just below it. A photograph wouldn't have done this scene justice - it was too beautiful. After another night of gazing at the stars (while trying to track down the Southern Cross - as usual) it was time to turn in - we were going back to Maun the next day.

27th November 1992, On the Okavango Delta, Botswana -

We were all tired from camping out on the Delta so we packed up our camp and got back in the makoros to work our way back to civilization. One relaxing makoro ride, one exhilarating speed boat ride and one very long, hot and dusty safari vehicle ride across the desert later we were back at our campsite. The truck was in town doing errands so we headed to the bar where I wad what tasted like the most refreshing vodka tonic I can ever recall. We stayed in the bar for a while until the truck returned so we could get cleaned up enough to go back to the bar to party.

We got pretty wrecked, entertained by the Botswanans playing their favorite bar game (next to darts). Most bars have a huge twenty foot pole in the center of the room - it's wooden, polished and might possibly be lacquered, but it's slick. The locals all try to climb to the pole and if you reach the top you get a bottle of booze. (Unverified info.) It was a really cool watching various people make their attempts at climbing the pole - it kept us entertained for a very long time. When I got bored with that I went back to my tent to go to bed. Everyone staggered back to their tents, but an hour or so later Steve, our driver and Mike, the Brit, came around to rally everyone back to the bar for round two. I'd run out of Botswanan pula (the local currency) so I was just sitting around the bar when Steve and Mike said they'd "found" a canoe on the shore and had been paddling out onto the delta.

We went down to the water and all climbed into the canoe. With Steve as or driver he paddled us out into the middle of the Delta where we proceeded to have a smoke under the stars. It was brilliant. We had some minor navigational problems going back to shore for the current was pushing us against the opposite side of the waterway. After very little perseverance we made it back to shore just in time to follow everyone back to camp to go to bed.

Quick Delta side note: On Thanksgiving Rich and I didn't ever know it was a holiday. It started when I asked Rich the day of the week because I couldn't remember. I knew what the date was because I'd been writing in the journal, but the day of the week didn't seem to matter. "Thursday," he responded. Thursday! It was the third Thursday in November - Thanksgiving! We had our a Thanksgiving dinner of canned spaghetti mixed with baked beans cooked over an open fire - yum, yum.

28th November 1992, Maun, Botswana to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe -

We woke up and packed up camp, for we had one and a half days of straight driving to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. Had a quick pick me up smoke before getting on the truck then just vegged out for about ninety minutes. Once the truck had entered the Kalahari Desert we pulled over and sat there for about fifteen minutes while Steve tinkered around under the hod. Shortly thereafter Boz came on the truck and told us we'd lost all the oil pressure and that the truck wouldn't be going to Vic Falls, or anywhere else for that matter for at least a week - it was dead.

This didn't shock us too much - two tires and one engine later we were standing in the Kalahari Desert with nothing to do. Luckily some dudes driving a pickup truck stopped to help us out, and what do ya know, they were about to drive straight through to Vic Falls - approximately 600 kilometers (375 miles). We talked about it and decided to pile in the back of the pickup to drive the 300 odd miles to the Falls so we'd be in Zim that evening. The pickup was way windy and not that comfortable with all of us smashed in there, but five and a half hours later we arrived at the Botswana/Zimbabwe border.

We arrived at 3:45 p.m. and the Zim border closed at 4:00 p.m. so we were going to have to be bloody quick to get fourteen people and a pickup through the border before it closed. We all cleared Botswanan immigration with no problems - it wasn't until we got to the customs people that the fun began. They said that the dudes who owned the truck didn't have the correct paperwork to let the truck out of the country and that they'd have to go back to Maun to get a letter from some official. The guys with the pickup told us to walk across the border and keep the immigration people busy until they could get the truck through.

We walked across the gravely no mans land part of the border and cleared Zim immigration, keeping both the immigration and customs people busy just by the sheer number of people we had in our party. The guys in the truck arrived a few minutes later and we got the truck through no problem. (I never did find out how they appeased the Botswanan customs officer.) back in the truck for the next two hour leg of the journey to Victoria Falls. We had to drive through a section of the Hwange National Park on the way and the driver was forced to keep slamming on his brakes as not to hit the water buck and various other animals that kept running out into the road.