Brandon Bosch Memorial Ride - Africa 2021

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Back at Namwi, it was time for a Cuppachino on the river bank, charging my phone, laundry and photos of the site.

 

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Apart from the other more expected signs, it is a bit concerning when you are warned of the possibility of snakes in the ablutions.

 

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Namwi

 

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The Orphanage next door.

And, Jakkals, Jakkie's constant companion.

 

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No Hippos or Crocs, so a lizard will do.

 

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Plenty of bird life.

 

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The fire wood is stacked and fire starts at 17h00, but as the fire started, so did the mosquitos.

Jakkie was kind enough to loan me a cooler box with some ice to keep everything cold as well as a flask for hot water.

The Hammerkoppe joined me in watching the sun set.

 

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What an amazing setting for a braai.

I had my own Bush TV going and it was basic Cowboy chow on the menu.

 

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02 June 2021

I was not in a good head space place.

I should be out on the road somewhere, but I am stuck here, no Covid results, no going anywhere.

Early morning coffee with some of JC's rusks. At least I saw a Fish Eagle, had some squirrels fighting above me and I was on the Zambezi. But, I was restless.

 

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Sticker no 14 went up for Brandon.

I could not wait for nightfall, fire, food, bed.

 

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03 June 2021

Early morning coffee on the bank of the Zambezi, having a chat with my son.

As he was going into town, Jakkie offered to take my kit with him and left the bakkie next to my campsite to load. Packing done, it was off to Katima.

Jakkie had phoned the lab the previous day and they confirmed that my results would be available and I arrived there just after 09h00. Firstly, they could not find them, then their printer did not work. I went to the freight company next door, met Jacobus, and asked if the lab can mail the results to him to print for me. No problem.

My kit is dropped off by Jakkie and Jakkals and I pack Matilda. I tried to take the tank bag off, to go shop for a blanket, but the release pin ring had come off. Tools out, cannot get it right, Jacobus arrives with his tools and eventually we get it sorted. Would have been a bit of a problem if that happened where I did not have some help readily available, as the tank bag has to come off for me to put fuel in.

The results had been mailed to Jacobus, one of the lab staff arrives with the special paper it has to be printed on, but the printer will not accept that paper size, so they just print it on a normal A4 sheet.

A 5 minute process has now ended up as 1,5 hours. It is hot and I have all my kit on.

Fuel station and border post.

 

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At the border, the Namibian side was a quick in and out. As is the case with all the African borders there are rows of heavy trucks all over the place.

There are two men sitting outside as I walk out. I asked them what the exchange rate is for NAD to Kwatcha. One of them said that he would meet me at the police checkpoint and arrange for someone he knows to assist me. He walked the 250 meters to the checkpoint and called a RASTA man, who was very polite and gave me a fair deal. It all happened in a very calm and civilised manner. I thanked both of them, they wished me safe travels and walked off.

As I went beyond the police checkpoint, I knew that I had made a wise decision, because the money changers appeared from everywhere and tried to get me to stop.

The Zambian border was not going to be a simple in and out.

I parked Matilda, and was then approached by more money changers, but in a much more civilised manner. When they heard that I had been sorted, they just backed off. One of them was particularly friendly, civil and well spoken. He indicated where I should start without me even asking. He saw the sticker and we had a chat about my trip. He warned me that it was quite a process going through the Zambian border post, but that he will assist me in every way he can.

Inside the building, I start at the Health counter, I present my Covid test result and he then immediately showed me the latest Government instruction that all SA residents entering Zambia, must remain in quarantine for 14 days. My first thought was that this is now where the attempted bribe situation is going to raise its ugly head. To my surprise, he then said that he will turn a blind eye this time, stamped my form, and that I could proceed.

I got my passport stamped at another counter, then another counter for checking of vehicle documents, followed by a physical inspection of Matilda, then carbon tax and after that 3rd party insurance. My new friend and guide came into the building a few times and checked whether I was OK. The one thing that I must say, the Zambian officials were all very friendly. It seemed that all was eventually done and dusted, it had been 2 hours, and I exited the building.

As I walk out, one of the money changers says to my new guide, here is your father.

He came and explained that I had one more thing to do and that was to pay the Community Tax at an office around the corner and that I can drive there as it was just before the final police checkpoint. I thanked him for his kindness, he said no problem, wished me a safe journey and walked off.

I paid the K20 Community Tax and drove the last section to the police checkpoint. They want to see all the documents again. Where is the chassis number? That was the first question from a big, burly policeman. Then he saw the sticker. They all offered their condolences and without any more to-do, my documents were returned and I was allowed to proceed.

Although it was a long process, I was thankful that it all went without any hitch as per my prayers earlier that morning.

I am in Zambia. Time to cross the Zambezi to Sesheke, then the M10 to Kazungula.

 

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Confirmation that I was in Zambia.

The orange can indicates where illicit, but widely accepted, trading in diesel takes place. Trucks stop here, diesel is siphoned out of their tanks and sold to the traders below pump prices and the drivers pocket their ill gotten gains. Who the buyers sell the diesel to, I am not quite sure, but obviously there is profit to be made, because it is a very common sight all over Zambia.

 

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On to and through Sesheke.

 

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Matilda reached 120 000 km

 

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You have to see some humour in this.

 

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It seemed like I was in for another long boring road with the odd village here and there, and, this time, pigs crossing.

It was good to see repairs being done to the tarred surface.

 

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Then the road condition changed. Not from bad to worse, but dream to nightmare.

The photos do not really do justice to the term nightmare. JC had warned me that this road had deteriorated, but I wanted to do it, as I did in 2013, but I was not prepared for this.

Sand and gravel roads had been formed on either one or both sides of the actual road, which all types of vehicles were using rather than staying on the original road surface. The potholes were massive and everywhere.

Pedestrians walked on the actual road, vehicles used the adjacent paths.

 

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I could not even consider using the detour next to the road. It was narrow and would have to stop every time a vehicle approached from the front and it was mainly thick sand.

It was painstakingly slow going and I had to stop when a truck approached me on the wrong side of the road. These trucks were taking a hammering.

On occasion, there were the odd remnants of a tar road and I would then try to make up some time, but that would not last long before it was back, sometimes into 1st gear and very slow going.

Even the donkey carts stayed off the main road.

 

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Another reminder that I was in Zambia. Charcoal for sale next to the road. An industry which is contributing to the massive de-forestation taking place in Zambia.