NAMIBIA uber alles - by POPFUNPLOT

This story and the events are generally narrated from the perspective of Plothond. However, both Funacide and Poppipants were as instrumental in putting the report together and credit to them for their words and outstanding pictures must equally be given





Day 1 â?? 30th May 2008 : Pretoria to Kalahari Rest (25km outside Kang)
Route: RSA - Pretoria, Rustenburg (N4), Zeerust, BOTSWANA â?? Lobatse, Kanye, Jwaneng, Kang, Kalahari Rest
Distance: 728km
Fuel: Zeerust, Lobatse, Jwaneng, Kang, plus filled bladders (total 26 litres)
Border costs: RSA â?? nil, Botswana â?? 50 Pula road tax (R 1.30 = P 1.00)
Accomodation costs: P 50.00 per person, Firewood supplied, Power at campsite, Hot showers




How do you explain anticipation. How do you explain excitement. How do you explain��. You cannot. With childlike impatience and counting the sleeps to the big day we urged life forward in the preceeding days. Namibia with timeless patience awaited us.

Funacide and myself got to the Shell garage just off Atterbury in Pretoria slightly before 05:00. Although not late, we almost impatiently urged Poppipants to arrive, where the hell was he !!!!
Right on time the 1150 purred up the road, made a U-turn at the robot and entered the forecourt. It was real, OUR Namibian Adventure had begun.




Funacide asked me to lead as my HID globe would light up the highway, paving the way forward to our adventure. It was cold and I struggled to get into my groove. I tried to hover around the 130km/h mark but the figures danced around on the digital screen like a one armed bandit. With the first tollgate behind us we settled into steady gait

Our first break just outside Rustenburg and Funacide with nothing under his jacket other than a T-shirt, was freezing his gonads off




A breakfast stop in Zeerust at the Wimpy helped thaw the bones a bit and amidst stares from the other patrons we ate, paid and exited the restaurant. It was almost as if they had never seen bikers before. Maybe the fact that we looked like pack donkeys had something to do with the interest we attracted

It was an absolute pleasure to sort out the formalities on the RSA side of the border and the Botswana side almost as quick. Except the customs. This took forever as they only had one official on duty and with typical African efficiency many, many documents had to be filled in, stamped, paid, receipts issued etcâ?¦ This process was repeated over and over again, ad nauseam until it was my turn. All the while some or other dingbat who was actually in the queue, who had to leave the queue, who now wanted back in the queue would try to push in. My â??moer meterâ? had passed Yellow (not Orange â?? Orange is KTM, and thatâ??s good) and was edging towards Red. I was about to erupt and test the patience of the Botswana customs and prisons system until I realized that this would achieve nothing except me being a guest of the state and my two companions starting the trip on their own.






We changed money and went into Lobatse to purchase some rolls and meat for a braai that evening. In the Butchery, the friendly proprieter invited us into the large cold room and we â??chose our cowâ?. 886g steak at a cost of Pula 32.00  (thatâ??s less than R 50.00/kg â?? bargain)




Jwaneng and another fuel stop. Surprisingly (to myself anyhow) Midas appears to be well represented in Botswana. Whilst sitting at the BP and enjoying a cooldrink, we were pestered and irritated by kids begging, right in your face as only kids can do. Again the stress of work and life in the Big Smoke had not eased up yet and once again I felt myself wanting to bliksim these little shits. Having traveled relatively extensively overseas the last few years, I could still not think of another place where the kids and beggers were not so irritating. I mentioned to the others that sometimes I just felt as if we did not belong here. Iâ??m African, born African and love this place and yetâ?¦â?¦â?¦..




Kang, over 200km up the road was our next target for the day
Something about the Trans Kalahari Highway, said to be one of the most boring roads in Africa. We did not experience it quite so bad, but long and flat it is.




Thoughtfully the road designers had included many reststops and we pulled off for a biological and nicotine break.






Now in India, the cow is said to be considered sacred and worthy of protection. Now in India that may count, but Botswana cows are dumber than�� er����. Cows.
These bloody stupid bovines would happily graze, or whatever bloody stupid Botswana cows do on the verges of the Trans Kalahari Highway, until they hear these masterpieces of Austrian and German engineering approaching. Then with a lazy and yet somehow determined resolve a group of 5 or 6 would attempt to cross the road, causing our â??convoyâ? to have to awake from itâ??s monotonous drone, the pilots to shake off a boredom induced daze and either slow the bikes down or come to a complete halt. Stupid bloody Botswana cowsâ?¦â?¦â?¦â?¦

Poppipants Riding behind Plottie was an adventure in its own. Each time we passed some cows or donkeyâ??s (there are a lot of donkeyâ??s) they hear the Air
Ages in full flow. That seemed to induce temporary madcow and time after time they ran straight across the road between us. Note to self: I need an exhaust, the sewing machine does not seem to scare them away.


It was past 16:30 when we entered Kang and hope of reaching Ghanzi over 250km away before dark was becoming an impossibility.




With more than 350km to our next fuel stop, we wisely decided to fill our MSR bladders for the first time. As this was our first real test of these things, the banter between the ever incorrigible Lucky Striker and the always eloquent Jacko came to mind and I wondered who would be the first living example of a streaking Blue & orange fireball.




Kalahari Rest was one of those finds that you will be forever thankful for. A lovely campsite and the whole place to ourselves.






Poppipants Funacide and I took a leisurely walk to the reception to pay for the campsite, only to discover the friendliest bartender ever. His words apon enquiring about the price. â??First we drink beer then we sort out camping!â?. A man after my own heart. This caused a bit of a moral dilemma because Plottie was looking after the bikes and we were enjoying the best Botswana had to offer. Do we go and fetch him now, or do we have another, maybe he will miss us and come looking?!? I think he must have smelled the beer, because it was not long before he showed up â??as we were ready to go and call himâ? 

Setting up camp that evening had ourselves decidedly divided into two factions: The haveâ??s and the have notâ??s.
The haveâ??s â?? thats me, Plothond, had insight, the adventureous spirit and the best little self-inflating hiking/trekking mattress ever designed.
The have notâ??s â?? thatâ??s Funacide & Poppipants. Lazy farking cheapskates. Have not culture nor class nor respect for the environment. They haul out these cheap-ass friggen â??liloâ??sâ? and this ultra noisy, damn irritating blower which sounds like the Milkshake machine at the lollipop roadhouse in overdrive.
I recall Funacides comment a few weeks earlier whilst shopping in a 4x4 store about all the luxuries and mod-cons these places sold and that we as hardened adventure bikers were not soft like these 4x4 shoppers. A fellow shopper who overheard the comment was not impressed.
Bloody moegoeâ??s â?? I hoped those mattresses would make them sea-sick




Funacide is an interesting person. Coffee keeps this dude ticking, and mind you not any coffee. We talking quality here. Poppi was quite happy with his Nescafe sachets, but Fun was having none of it.
We had pre-contrived a plan. I found a silicone funnel at Makro, later relabeled the â??titâ?, we had purchased coffee filters and the best filter blend was packed in. Patience was a virtue during this operation and any deviation from the pouring plan would result in far too much pressure at the bottom, the filter would split and dump all the grounds in your cup â?? not a desired result.
Further experimentation revealed that the double filter system worked and so was set our morning and evening coffee making ritual.




Settling down later, I also realized that we would be safe from any prowling animals or scavengers at night. The snoring cacophony that erupted from the tents of the PopFun duo was enough to scare the crap out of even the most errant Lion or man eating Bushman.

:drif:

Great first installment - keep 'em coming please!

Keep it coming!!!

Was waiting for this one tooooooo long

Befokte trip ekse  :ricky:

kani wag vir die opvolg nie  :lamer:

Great first day, hope to see the next soon. 

Please Sir can I have some more  ;D

Thanks for uploading and all the effort Plot... When we going again

There are few things on the net that are more addictive than a well written ride report.

Also, I have been greeted on the rare occasion with something similar to, "First, we drink beer then we sort out camping!â?.  I have yet to find an expression that makes one feel more at home. Brings tears to the eyes I tell ya!

However, unlike you guys the "then we sort out camping� bit has always been, without fail, something that got a bit lost in the "first we drink beer" bit.

Sorry about the delay
My connection speed has slowed right down - will try again in a few minutes

Where do i sign up?!  Great read, thanks.

Must agree with Kamanya, there's nothing that beats a well written report, even if the riding couldn't make up for it, and this report got all the makings of a great one.

It's like listening to U2 or Pink Floyd, food for the soul.

:drif: Let's have it.  :thumleft:

Day 2 â?? 31st May 2008 : Kalahari Rest to Arabusch Lodge (Windhoek)
Route: BOTSWANA â?? Kalahari Rest, A2/A3 Split (Ghanzi), Tshootsha, Mamuno, NAMIBIA â?? Gobabis, Windhoek
Distance: 692km
Fuel: Tshootsha, Gobabis
Border costs: Botswana â?? nil, Namibia N$ 100.00 (R 1.00 = N$ 1.00)
Accomodation costs: R 470.00 for two bed unit (Poppi slept on the floor)




Funacide was up early, and soon I felt the glow & warmth of the freshly stoked fire against my sleeping bag. To put up my tent as little as possible was my mission on this trip and I slept under the tree.




First thing on the agenda was coffee by Funacide followed by a hot shower.






These â??donkeyâ? boilers are super efficient and due to the design where the flue runs up the centre of the tank, all possible heat generated by a relatively small fire causes the water in the jacket to heat up quickly



From Wikipedia :â??A fire-tube boiler is a type of boiler in which hot gases from the fire pass through one or more tubes within the boiler. It is one of the two major types of boilers, the other being the water-tube boiler. A fire tube boiler can be either horizontal or vertical. A fire-tube boiler is sometimes called a "smoke-tube boiler" or "shell boiler" or sometimes just "fire pipe".
This type of boiler was used on virtually all steam locomotives in the horizontal "locomotive" form. It is also typical of early marine applications and small vessels, such as the small riverboat used in the movie The African Queen. Small fire-tube boilers used for various auxiliary services were often called "donkey boilers". Today, they find extensive use in the stationary engineering field, typically for low pressure steam use such as heating a building.�


Funacide:




Poppipants:




Plothond:




The restcamp - Kalahari Rest (where drinking beer is more important than camping  ;D ;D ;D )




The long ride up the Trans Kalahari was continued and not quite as boring as anticipated. Yes, it is a dead straight tar road with the occasional curve but the kmâ??s were interspersed with the odd wandering groups of cattle, rest laybyes, a very disappointed traffic officer with his radar gun (we were in fuel economy mode) and a roadblock. Useless idiot â?? did not even know what to ask for, so we showed him a road tax form and he appeared satisfied. We thanked him for his efficient service and carried on






A roadside fill-up. Being carefull - I used the smallest of the three ways to dispense the propellant. This took forever






Fuancide was having none of it and went for gold, taking off the larger cap. Although it seemed to work ok, he did donate a few litres to the D2303 a few days later




Tshootsha






Poppipants was trying to chat up the locals, but they were having none of this biker scum   ( just joking - the locals were exceptionally friendly) He and Funacide enquired as to the nearest watering hole and we were pointed up the road




A sheebeen â?? yebo gogo. In fact this was a shebeen with satellite. Eishhh, life is obviously profitable in Botswana






The patrons were content




There was shaded bike parking as well




These "crickets" were all over the roads in their millions over the next few days. They are super ugly and look quite intimidating. A local explained to me that it was unusual that they were still around this time of year and meant that Winter would be a bit late



Poppipants had great fun amusing himself by trying to run over as many as possible, whilst trying to prevent the 1150 from going into a speed wobble


Just before the Namibian border




The crossing into Namibia was a mere formality apart from the fact that Mr FW (Poppipants) was sternly castigated for entering only his initials on the departure form. The Botswana Government was obviously very keen on securing more complete details on our travel companion


By Namibian standards, Gobabis to our minds is a relatively large and neat town, the service at the filling stations very friendly and efficient (although this was a very obvious occurance throughout Namibia â?? there are no â??issuesâ? here)






The 200km to Windhoek was a bum numbing experience and a halfway break was initiated.








The only other incident of any note was the police roadblock just outside Windhoek where Funacide was asked where he was from. The reaction to his reply was almost comic â?? â??On THISâ? she blurts out, pointing at his KTM  ;D  : - bloody philistine !!!  :xxbah:


Dinner and Bed were sole priorities and Joeâ??s Beerhouse (S22 33 04.0 E17 05 24.4) was sought out. Although a  bit of a â??tourist trapâ? the experience was good and we would most probably visit it again should the opportunity arise






Poppi & Plothond ordered the Eisbein and Funacide enjoyed a Hamburger with attiude. The house wine in this establishment is Jagermeister but we stuck to the frostyâ??s






We later roared through the streets of Windhoek en-route to Arebbusch lodge with semi wild abandon, the two KTMâ??s announcing our arrival to the pedestrians in the city and to the disapproving looks of the security officers at the overnight facility. Funacide was rather insistent that my festive mood was NOT going to prejudice his â??rightâ? to a comfortable bed that evening and after some persuasion, I repented.

Poppipants and his cheap-ass blow-up was relegated to the floor and no sooner had he turned his back on us, did an evenly distributed rumble rise up from the depths of his adenoids, punctuated every now and then by a rise in volume and .... then a short bout of silence, only to begin all over again.  

Day 3 â?? 1st June 2008 : Arabusch Lodge to River Camp (Omaruru)
Route: Arabusch Lodge, Khomas Hochland road (C28), C28/C32 Split, C32 to Karibib, C33, Omaruru
Distance: 340km
Fuel: Windhoek, Karibib
Accomodation costs: R 60.00 per person, Power R 15.00, Firewood R 20.00 per bag, Hot showers




Arrebusch lodge




In a twisted sense, it's almost reasuring to know every country has to deal with it's own problems, however it's as if Namibia is 10 years behind SA. >   When has the rising milk price made headlines in our country  ??? If only this was the sum total of our problems.




Windhoek is not what I expected. Iâ??m not sure what I expected, but whatever it was, this was not it. I imagined a â??cityâ? of a few streets and buildings in a FLAT desert. This was anything BUT that. There is a sense of order, the CITY is enclaved in the hills of the area and it is clean and tidy. I could easily live here




â??Wimpyâ? was entered in the GPS and a while later whilst breakfast was being enjoyed with copious amounts of coffee, Davy arrived to meet us.

This was tyre change day as we were not keen on lugging our new rubber around anymore. Davy tried to rustle up a dealer to help us, but this was Sunday in Windhoek, not Sunday in Gauteng. Apart from the mall, Windhoek is shut tighter than a â??klei-os se gatâ? on a Sunday.

We had really fart-arsed around and it was close to 11 when we resigned ourselves to the reality that this operation would have to wait till camp that evening when Funacide spotted a locked-up tyre changing facility at the filling station. Itâ??s amazing what a few Nam $â??s can do and a key miraculously appeared.






All this tyre work was thirsty work




The GS faction wished they too could have interesting things to do to their bikes  ot:




The KTM faction on the other hand wished the GS faction would help so that they, the KTM faction, could drink more beer  ;D




With Davy in the lead, we left Windhoek at about 1pm and it took about 30km to get used to the bikes on dirt after 1400km on tar the previous two days

The Khomas Hochland road to Swakopmund is tarred for the first odd 30km. It then becomes dirt and is another one of those â??do not miss thisâ? roads.






All to soon we discovered the idiosyncrasies of Namibian dirt:

We would be cruising along at a steady gait when suddenly the road would disappear below us into a sharp dip. There, in the dip lay the sand monster in a silent vigil awaiting the next green Gauteng biker to arrive. Then as your front wheel entered the fine stuff it would stretch out itâ??s talons and claw at the rubber in a frenzied to and fro shaking action, waking up the rider from his perch above. In an instant, sweat would erupt from ones pores and instinctively the handlebars would  be wrenched in a death grip as the fight for control began. By now, the rear wheel had entered the monsters lair with the front wheel searching for grip as the bike started to climb out of the dip. The sickening sound of a gchrrrrrrrrrrrr was the final chapter in this episode as the suspension bottomed out and rubber met plastic.
Then as quick as it started, it was over leaving you wondering� What the F��� was that !!!!!




The first time it happened I slowed right down, recomposed myself and announced to the hooligan within, â??down boy, DOWN !!! You have to finish this trip, take it easyâ?
Sometimes these sand traps were 10 or 15 metres long, sometimes in a dip, sometimes around a blind corner, and sometimes just there, hidden in the shadow of a roadside bush. Be careful in Namibia


The plaque on the remnants of a German fort and "halfway house"




This is such a "dry" area, and yet so magnificent










After about 180km we realized the possible error of our ways, we were unlikely to reached the next fuel stop and our bladders were drier than the sheebeen on Journeymans birthday run. Davy decided to return to Windhoek as the round trip via Karibib would have been just too far.








The road to Karibib had was basically out of the hills and we left the Khomas Hochland road behind us






We employed a tried and tested approach to fuel economy, ride slower and with care, until the first riverbed presented itself. This was like trying to withhold a joint from a junkie. With a WTF attitude â?? Poppipants rides a fuel bunker anyway, Poppi and Fun went-a-exploring until Poppi got stuck and abused Funcide while trying to get out of his self-inflicted tribulations.










We reached Karibib, refueled and took a 65km odd tar section to Omarura which was reached as the last fingers of the suns afternoon rays searched through the trees.
We selected a name out of a few, rung the the bell at the gate of River Camp and were presented with a lovely campsite at the rear of the main buildings.




Funacide went into town to buy ice and very soon the levels of the gif-kannetjies started dropping dangerously low.




My ipod speakers were serving their masters well and the wonder of airwave data transfer was being discussed when the idea of the â??Adventures of PopFunPlotâ? was born. Travelling with 2 propeller heads has itâ??s advantages and presently we were rolling on the ground everytime the Wilddog site elicited another reply.




Coat hook and re-charge station  ;D




Funacide wanted this pic for his lunchbox and we obliged 




It was getting past my bedtime and I was rather thankful when the "gif kannetjies"called for last rounds and the final drops were dispensed






The photographer was losing focus and it was time to hit the sack  ;D >

Great ... thanks for sharing.

i just found myself crying. love you oaks.

This all just look to good for words  :drif:

:thumleft:

Eeich!!! this is good!! ;D

:tongue1:.......More please........