Old Report as requested, Namibia 2005, written by Peaches.

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Adventurer

Gentleman Dog
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Kempen Germany
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KTM 1290 Super Adventure
NAMIBIA 2005.

I awoke in the early hours of the morning of the 16th of March 2005 with anticipatory butterflies in my stomach. I lay in the darkness debating whether or not I should get up and get dressed or whether I should try and get some more sleep as today was going to be quite a day ? we were starting our long anticipated tour of Namibia.

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My husband and I both ride BMW?s, Kurt has a R1100GS and I have a F650GS. We had planned this trip right down to the finest detail. We had decided to use soft luggage instead of our panniers and top boxes as we were going off-road (falling with plastic panniers tends to damage them somewhat as I learnt when I dropped my bike in thick sand in Shakawi, Botswana two years ago as a novice rider). I bought the BMW soft luggage for my bike and Kurt bought the Kaoko luggage for his bike. He also bought a new GPS unit and a special shock resistant handle mount for the unit. We bought the spares we thought we might need ? tubes, cables, globes, tyre weld, fuses, Q-bond etc, and packed things like cup-a-soup, gas stove, coffee, powder milk, sugar, cups, breakfast bars, tent, mattresses, sleeping bags etc so that, if necessary, we were self sufficient

I got up and checked the weather, what a miserable day ? it was pouring with rain. We finished our chores and last minute packing and looked at the weather again, still raining. Eventually we decided that if we were going to go, it was going to be in the rain or never. We left home at about half past seven in the morning. We took the N14 from Alberton going out to Randfontein ? it was peak hour bumper to bumper slow moving traffic in the pouring rain. It was the first time I have ever ridden weaving through traffic, very nerve wracking in the rain with a new tyre.

The rain finally let up just before Ventersdorp. We are fairly well kitted for riding in the rain, except my BMW boots leaked. They are supposed to be waterproof but the breathable section in the front of the boot lets in the water. We stopped at a garage for me to pour the water out my boots and put on a dry pair of socks with a plastic shopping bag over them (to stop my wet boots making my feet wet again) and to take off our rain suits.

The rest of the day was beautiful warm sunshine and fairly un-eventful except I hit a social weaver at 140 km per hour. There was an explosion of feathers and my arm went numb within seconds. It happened so quickly that I did not have any time to take avoiding action. I had a bruise on my upper arm for the rest of the trip.

We refuelled at Kathu at the Shell Service Station just off the National Highway. In front of the fuel station is a truly amazing tourist info centre, which is inside a large earth-moving machine, which was used at Sishen Mine. The sheer size of the machine is awesome. The dump truck parked next to the earth-moving machine is also size xxx-large.

Our first overnight stop was Die Eiland resort in Upington. We were on the road early the next morning. The border crossing at Nakop from South Africa into Namibia was painless. The only thing I found surprising was the distance between the SA border post and its Namibian counterpart. I was expecting it to be maybe a kilometre between the two border posts so I did not bother with my helmet or gloves after clearing customs on the South African side. After a few kilometres I decided I had better kit up properly. It turned out it is more like forty kilometres of no-mans land between the two border posts.

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The landscape on the Namibian side of the border was much the same as on the South African side. The area had received rain during the past week and there were clumps of yellow veld flowers at the side of the road along with large puddles of water.
We refuelled at Gr�¼nau where we met a group of BMW riders from Windhoek on their way down to the Buffalo Rally. Our destination for the evening was Ca�±on Roadhouse, Fish River Canyon.

The only roads to Fish River Canyon are sand roads. My only experience of sand road riding was the Beginner?s Off-road Riding Course I did with James at BMW?s training centre at Swartkops race track and a couple of good sand roads around Sabie. To say I was nervous is the understatement of the year.

We decided to try riding without letting the tyres pressure down, as we were not sure where we would be able to pump the tyres again. For the first couple of kilometres the bike was very skittish. Enough?s enough - we let the tyres down, after that the bike behaved perfectly. We rode at a very circumspect sixty kilometres per hour and it took us about an hour and a half to cover the eighty odd kilometres to the Roadhouse.

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The temperature climbed steadily and by the time we got to Ca�±on Roadhouse we were extremely hot and more than ready for an ice-cold cold drink and something to eat. Ca�±on Roadhouse is a lodge with a difference ? the whole place is decorated with old car parts; the front end of an old car decorates the wall behind the bar; the seats in the bar have their own number plates; old bumpers are used as shelves for the glasses; old hubcaps are used to shield lights; an old washing machine outside is used as a planter and even the blinds in the rooms are made from old truck air filters.

After lunch we went to the main lookout point over the Fish River Canyon at Hobas. The road from the entrance point to the park to the viewpoint is a BAD road. Cars travel at maximum forty kilometres an hour to save their tyres. The view into the canyon is as spectacular as the pictures you see in coffee table books and post cards. The scenery has not altered in millennia and the atmosphere is timeless. We met up with a group of German off-road motorcyclists at the viewpoint. German tourists are not the friendliest of people and they tend to stay in their own group and not talk to strangers. After travelling the terrible road back down to the entrance gate, I discovered that the road back to the Roadhouse, the sand road on which I previously would not exceed sixty, was now more like a four lane highway, which could be done at one hundred and twenty kilometres per hour.

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That afternoon as we lazed around the pool, I took photos of it raining in the distance. Apparently rain does not happen very often in the area - the sky normally makes a show of pretending to build up to a rain cloud and then the clouds dissipate. I lay in my bed that night listening to the rain drum on the roof. I experienced rain in the desert.

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The following morning we were up at half past five, planning a dawn start at six. We did not take into account that we were much further west and the sun would only rise much later. We left Fish River Canyon after breakfast at about seven when the sun was high enough to enable us to read the road surface. We made our way up to Goageb where we were planning to pump our bike tyres for the tar road section to L�¼deritz. We went through some light rain. Rain on a sand road is not the most ideal of riding conditions as the rain masks the road surface making it difficult to see where the best riding line would be. I coped!

We discovered that the gas station at Goageb had no compressor ? can?t pump tyres. My husband discovered that the small compressor we had with us was not up to the job, it has since been replaced with a better one! We had no choice but to ride very slowly on our soft tyres to the next town, Aus. The stretch seemed interminable. I had the best fuel consumption on my bike for the entire trip over this stretch (from Gr�¼nau via the Fish River Canyon to Aus) ? twenty-eight kilometres to the litre. We refuelled at Aus as well as pumping the tyres. It was a relief to be finally able to travel at a reasonable speed again.

About twenty kilometres outside Aus we were privileged to see the wild desert horses next to the road.

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The scenery had slowly but surely been changing from the Karoo type savannah that we are familiar with to a true desert complete with sand dunes and driving wind. Twenty kilometres from L�¼deritz is the ghost town of Kolmanskuppe. We stopped in to take a stroll through the deserted town. The desert is in the process of reclaiming it?s own. It was quite eerie to think that people had once loved, laughed, lived and died in this town.

L�¼deritz is a charming but isolated little fishing village. We were planning on camping at Shark Island but after trying unsuccessfully to find a camp spot which was sheltered from the perpetual wind, a B&B seemed like a really hot idea. We stayed at a B&B called Kratzplatz just off the main street. The accommodation was quite respectable and was complete with a pet chicken called Nando (who slept just outside our room) and a bar with a decent menu.

We spent the afternoon exploring the town. The German style architecture is a feature of the town. We saw the Lutheran church built on the rock as well as Goerke House. Unfortunately we were too late for the guided tour through Goerke House.

I went into the local Spar at about five in the afternoon to buy a few cold drinks. The Spar was full of woman dressed in at least three layers of warm clothing. I was a bit puzzled at first as it was a warm day but then I realized that they had all just come off shift from packing fish and were shopping for their evening meals. The camaraderie between the women is not something experienced anywhere other than in a small town where everyone knows everyone else. The lady in the queue in from of me had forgotten she needed a loaf of bread. She screeched across the shop to a friend near the bread counter; ?Hey Maraai, gee my a loaf of bread!? The loaf of bread was duly passed over everyone?s? head to the lady in front of me amid a lot of bantering. The predominant language spoken in the south of Namibia is Afrikaans.

We left L�¼deritz early the next morning as it was going to be a long day. We were going back to Aus and from there back onto sand roads to Sesriem. A distance of five hundred and forty kilometres, and four hundred and forty of those kilometres were sand roads. The sand roads in and out of Fish River Canyon were great training for what was to come. We were advised to do the scenic D route in preference to the C route along the escarpment. The road into Helmeringhausen was in quite good condition and we made good time.

I wanted to stop in at Duwisib Castle. Once we had turned off the main road towards the castle I began to wonder if this was such a great idea. The longer we travelled, the worse the road conditions became. I was very relieved to have a break at the castle. I had spent the last fifty kilometres standing on the foot pegs and as I was wearing standard road riding boots, my feet were taking a pounding. Next time I will invest in a pair of off-road boots.

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The castle was like an oasis in the middle of nowhere. The man who built the castle, Baron von Wolf, must have had a touch of African madness. The castle is a miniature of castles found in Europe, complete with shooting ports, dungeon, mezzanine balcony, staircase and heavy ram-resistant doors. The rooms are filled with furniture from that era. All the furnishings were apparently brought overland from the coast by ox-wagon. The Baron died during the First World War and his widow subsequently sold the castle. It is now property of the state and has been declared a National Monument.



We did not linger too long at the castle as we still had a long way to go. The road got progressively worse as we travelled along. The easiest line to take was the inner track cut by car tyres in the sand. The ?middel mannetjie? between the two tyre tracks going in one direction as well as the two tracks going in the opposite direction was long heaps of thick sand. If you had to change tracks for whatever reason it took quite an act of faith to point the front wheel through this sand.

One of the earlier sections of road was quite good, not quite four lane highway but not bad. The conditions can change quite suddenly as I discovered. I was running at about ninety kilometres per hour (I was too chicken to go any faster) when I approached a blind rise. At that stage I was seated to give my feet a break. As I approached the rise I decided I had better stand up - jus? incase. Thank goodness I did. The road dropped away steeply on the other side, with a wash away at the bottom and some thick sand to make it interesting. I shut off the throttle, forced myself to keep my eyes open, leaned as far back on my bike as my luggage would allow and hung on for dear life. I had James? (my instructor from BMW) voice in my head saying, ?Look up ? that?s where the bike will go?. My bike is awesome - it sailed through the hazards, after a serious tankslapper I emerged from this drift (much to my husband?s relief) but nothing the bike couldn?t handle. When I finally slowed the bike sufficiently to stop, it took quite a while for me to get my breath back and for my heartbeat to get back to normal.

You get to see a different way of life in Namibia. The going was hot and we stopped in at a farm called W�©reldend. The sign outside the farm gate proclaimed BP petrol 95 & 97, diesel, tyre repairs, a campsite, a B&B and a kiosk is available. We did not need fuel but an ice-cold cold drink was very tempting in the heat. A farmer had installed a few tanks of fuel and sold soft drinks to the passing trade. When we arrived he was busy pressure-washing his scrambler and had no time to chat. It did not appear as if they were too hard up for company in this isolated spot. There was no food available but the cold drinks were ice cold.

The road from W�©reldend to Sesriem deteriorated to the degree that we spent all our time standing. The last section into Sesriem was so slippery that even on soft tyres it was like riding on marbles. My feet were killing me and the inconsiderate car/bakkie drivers, mostly with GP number plates, were working on the only nerve I had left.

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We took one look at the campsite at Sesriem and decided that the tent for the night would be the already erected tent at the five star lodge next door. Sossusvlei Lodge was just what I needed - hot water for a shower and ice-cold drinks at the bar. The dinner at the lodge that evening was under the stars with a view over a water hole and the food was excellent.

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We arranged for a transfer into the Sossusvlei nature reserve the following morning. We considered taking our bikes but we were told that the road into the reserve is in bad shape and the last five kilometres onto the pan is 4x4 only. I?m pleased that we did not take the bikes because I would not have had the time to soak up the sights of the dunes while dodging the potholes on the sixty-five-kilometre tar road section into the reserve. The last five kilometres were definitely 4x4 as it was very, very thick sand. Our guide told us that he regularly gets stuck - at least once a month! We climbed a dune at the Sossusvlei itself. The dune was about two hundred and twenty metres high and took forever to walk up. The walk down was very short in comparison; if you were brave, you could run down.

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We had breakfast under a large tree on the edge of the vlei. The last time Sossusvlei was filled with water was back in 2001. Rain had fallen in the area recently, not enough to get the river flowing but enough for the little yellow veld flowers to bloom in small carpets over the edges of the dunes. The dunes are spectacular in the early morning light when the colour contrasts between light and shadow are at the best. The trip into the vlei was soul food. I will definitely make this a stop again on my next trip.

We arrived back at the lodge just after twelve o?clock. We had to hustle, as we still had to make Walvis Bay and then Swakopmund that night. The distance to Walvis Bay was not that great, only 300 odd kilometres, but the road was a sand road and judging from the condition of the road coming in to Sesriem, the going was going to be tough. We had been chatting to people who had already driven over the roads from Walvis Bay and had been told that the roads were so bad that they had spun their car on some sections of the road. Rain clouds had been building up all morning and by the time we left Sesriem it was quite dark on the horizon. Between the potential rain and the forewarning of the road conditions, I was very apprehensive about being able to cope with the day?s riding. We left Sossusvlei, riding towards heavy rain clouds. I was dreading the rain as the road conditions were very slippery and if it rained, it would be very difficult to read the road surface.

We were fortunate as far as the weather was concerned. As we approached the rain, the road took a bend in the opposite direction and this seemed to happen every time. The road conditions improved somewhat and I even forded a small river that ran across the road without too much stress. We did get a few spots of rain as we approached Solitaire. We had been told about the ?Best Apple Pie in Namibia? available from the ?Algemene Handlelaar? in Solitaire. So while we waited for the rain to stop, we indulged ourselves with cups of percolated coffee and a slice of pie. I concur with the persons who told us about the apple pie ? it is definitely the best in Namibia.

We left the rain behind us before we arrived at a sign for the Tropic of Capricorn. We did the tourist thing and took some photos of ourselves at this landmark. Fortunately the roads were not as bad as the other people had described. I think the driver who described the road conditions to us had a healthy dose of heavy foot syndrome and went into some of the corners too fast. Me, being chicken, having had a good scare the previous day already, took it easy.

The two passes coming through the mountains into Walvis are really spectacular. The rock appears to be volcanic rock, which has solidified into contorted folds. The last section from Kuiseb pass into Walvis Bay was done at sunset. The road had been recently graded with whitish coloured gravel and with the light from the sun reflecting on the surface made it very difficult to see the surface. The road itself wasn?t bad, it was just that I couldn?t see the best line to take. There were patches of loose sand as well as some sections that were washed away with ripples running parallel to the line of travel. If we had reached this section early in the day it would have been a breeze but the setting sun masking the road condition made it very stressful. The last eighteen kilometres into Walvis was tar. I was so happy to see tar again I could have kissed it.

We arrived in Walvis Bay after dark, stopping long enough to change to clear visors and re-inflate our tyres, we pushed on through to Swakopmund. My only impression of Walvis was it smelt fishy. We went through our first roadblock in Namibia just outside Walvis. The police manning the roadblock just waved us through without even stopping us.

I had a traffic irritation on the way into Swakopmund, again an inconsiderate South African. We were in Namibia a week before Bike SA?s Desert Run and many people were arriving ahead of schedule for the Run. One such group of people with a big double cab 4x4 bakkie towing a trailer full of quad bikes and scramblers, with GP number plates again, was in a major hurry to get to Swakopmund. It was pitch dark and the inconsiderate driver rode on my back wheel; where he wanted to go to I don?t know because there were more cars in front of me with even more cars in front of them. I moved right over into the yellow line in order to let him pass. This very clever idiot then overtook the car in front of me in the face of oncoming traffic. It is this type of attitude that gives South African tourists a bad name.

We booked ourselves into the Municipal Park at Swakopmund. When we arrived at the park I saw that the same idiot that had been in such a hurry that he had to risk everyone?s life was also staying at the park with a bunch of his buddies.

We booked an A-frame 6 sleeper cottage, which was very basic in fittings and fixtures but adequate for our requirements. We hunted down a take-out meal from the restaurant on site and ended up chatting to a really nice guy and his wife who had just come up from Kuruman, him on his new F650GS and her driving the bakkie as backup.

The next day was spent washing clothes and bikes in the early morning and sightseeing the rest of the day. The 4 X 4 driver and his buddies left the park early. They were all kitted up on their quads and scramblers for, I presume, a day on the dunes.

Swakopmund is a gorgeous town. I loved the beach with the promenade, the little shops, the restaurants and coffee shops, the museum, the fresh air, the cleanliness, the dolphins in the bay, but most of all the friendly locals. I wish I had more time to spend in Swakopmund, there is so much to do: dune boarding, quad rides, tours to the local sights, shops to browse in.



While driving around town you notice the keen fishermen who have their bakkies kitted for sea fishing off the beach with the rod holders built into the front bumper and the long rods standing like sentries waiting for action. The cutest thing I saw was a local with a rod holder and his enormously long fishing rod fitted to the rear mudguard of his bicycle.

When we got back to our cottage that evening we were told of an accident that had happened out on the dunes and that one of the riders involved was quite badly injured. I was relieved that this crowd was staying in Swakopmund whilst I was moving on.

Refreshed after our short break, we left early the following morning on our way to Etosha National Park. As motorcycles are not allowed in Etosha, we planned to stay at a lodge just outside the park and get a game drive into the park.

When we left Swakopmund it was a fine sunny clear day. By the time we got to Otjiwarongo it had clouded over and was starting to rain. After a quick brunch at the local bakery, we donned our rain gear and set off for Tsumeb. It rained the entire way. The rain finally started clearing up just the other side of Tsumeb and by the time we got onto the turnoff to Namutoni Gate I was beginning to get hot. We planned to stay at Mokuti Lodge, which is just outside the Namutoni Gate entrance to Etosha.

Mokuti Lodge is supposed to be one of the top lodges in Namibia. It was really nice with comfortable rooms and mostly friendly and helpful staff. One incident tended to taint the experience a bit. We had supper in the dinning room that evening and as it was very expensive I was expecting the calibre of meal that we enjoyed at Sossusvlei Lodge. The meal was a disappointment and the staff serving the guests, in particular one size extra large African woman, helped themselves to humongous portions of food (which were presumably stashed for eating later) before the guests were served. This woman then proceeded to tell the guests when they asked for a particular dish that it was ?finish? in a very surly and unhelpful tone. The meat that was available was very tough. Not what I expected from a four star rated establishment. Not a very good impression of African hospitality for our foreign tourists.

The next day we lounged around in the morning and went on a game drive into Etosha in the afternoon. There was an abundance of water on the pan and everything was lush and green. We saw lion, various buck species including Namibia?s national animal the Gemsbok, silver-backed jackals, wildebeest, many birds including ostrich, a African wild cat, giraffe, zebra and one elephant.

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One of the German ladies on the drive with us had been on the game drives morning and afternoon for three days in a row hoping to see elephant but because water was so abundant, the elephants remained in the bush and did not come out to the water holes or near the roads. This was this lady?s last game drive as she was flying home the next morning and she was desperate to see an elephant in the flesh. We had to be out of the park by sundown, at that time of year seven o?clock in the evening, and this particular lady was very despondent. We were about three kilometres from the gate when our guide nonchalantly said that there was an elephant in the bush up ahead. The entire bus erupted with excitement. This lady was ecstatic to have actually seen an elephant, something we as Africans tend to take for granted. We sometimes need to be reminded of just how privileged we actually are living on this beautiful continent with such a diversity of wild life.

The dinner at the lodge that evening was like chalk and cheese from the previous night?s offering. We had a traditional braai and members of management were in attendance. Even the surly size extra large woman serving the meat dishes managed to emulate a smile at one or two of the guests and there was more than enough food for all the paying customers. It is sad that staff of what is supposedly a flagship lodge have to be closely monitored otherwise the standards drop dramatically.

It rained again that night. We left Mokuti Lodge the next morning in the pouring rain. The road from the lodge down to the tar road was clay type sand and very slippery. Thank goodness it was only a few hundred metres. The rain finally let up about halfway back to Tsumeb.

We stopped at Lake Oshikoto, which is about twenty-four kilometres outside Tsumeb just off the main road. This lake was once a large dolomite cave. The dome of the cave collapsed exposing the cave. When the Germans declared war on England in 1914, South Africa was still a part of the British Empire. The Germans in then German South West Africa resisted the South African forces for about a year. Before the Germans surrounded, they dumped all their guns, ammunition and ox-wagons into the lake. Some of the objects have been retrieved and are on display in the museum in Tsumeb. The lake is quite secluded and serene and exudes an air of antiquity.

We bypassed Tsumeb on the outskirts of town and travelled through to Grootfontein. From Grootfontein to Rundu was the longest stretch of straight road I have ever seen; you can see at least three days into the future. There was a detour on the road for road works about hundred kilometres before Rundu. The signboard said the detour was 10 kilometres long but it was closer to forty kilometres long. The detour was not too bad as it was hard packed sand but as we did not drop the pressures in our tyres, the bikes were a bit skittish. We stopped at a garage on the outskirts of Rundu to refuel. It was quite scary because as we stopped, the local children descended like a horde of locusts. I?m sure they meant no harm but it was very overwhelming.

Our next stop was Bagani where we were planning to overnight at Popa Falls. There was no fixed accommodation available at Popa Falls resort and the next lodge a little further down the Shakawe road had very thick loose sand entrance road of about two kilometres long. The sky was threatening rain again and there was no way I was camping in the rain. I vetoed the lodge down the road as well because I did not want to start a day with a mud fight with a laden bike. It was only three o?clock in the afternoon so after a quick discussion we decided to push on to Katima Mulilo. One snag, the one and only garage in Bagani had no electricity and all the fuel pumps were electric. The rain over the past few days had knocked out the electricity in the region and there had been no electricity for two days. This was a major problem to us, as I did not have enough fuel to make the next garage at Kongola.

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We decided to wait at the garage and see what happened as we required fuel otherwise we were stuck. We were fortunate; the electricity came back on after about half an hour after we arrived. With full tanks we hastily departed for Kongola, after crossing the Kavango River, which changes name in Botswana and becomes the Okavango River, which empties into the Okavango Delta, we entered into the Caprivi region. The area had also received a lot of rain in the past few weeks and the countryside was very green. It was strange to think that along some stretches of the road we were less than ten kilometres from either the Angola border or the Botswana border and the region saw intense fighting during the South African occupation of the region.

There was one incident on the road through to Kongola which was very dangerous and quite disturbing as we thought the locals were friendly people; as we rounded a long sweeping bend to the right we saw a row of obstructions across the entire left hand side of the road. Kurt went through a small gap between the obstacles and I went around them on the wrong side of the road. As I went past the obstacles I glanced down to see what they were; it was a row of empty Tafel beer bottles. The bottles were deliberately placed in the road to cause an accident. This type of criminal activity is extremely hazardous to bike riders and I urge those bikers travelling in this region to be very aware of the potential hazard.

We refuelled at Kongola at about a quarter to six in the evening. Just outside Kongola was another detour around road works. They were resurfacing the road, which was a good thing as I had just driven around a pothole that could have swallowed both my bike and me. The detour was about ten kilometres long but it had been raining earlier in the afternoon and the surface was very slippery with a clay-like surface. The road after the detour through to Katima was new tar. We were travelling at sedate hundred and twenty kilometres an hour when Kurt who was travelling in front at that stage braked and started slowing down but he had already passed a large form on the side of the road. I stopped ? it was a large tawny eagle dragging its left wing trying to get to the bush on the side of the road. I sat there wondering how I was going to help this injured very large bird of prey with a wicked beak and sharp talons. Kurt had stopped further down the road next to a Ford Fiesta stopped on the side of the road. I was trying to attract Kurt?s attention to tell him to bring the car when the bird flexed his wings, found strength in his injured wing and took off and flew off into the trees. I think the bird was just stunned and maybe a little bruised. The couple in the Ford were British tourists, they had hit the bird and the entire windscreen was shattered. I sincerely hope that the bird survived.

We finally arrived in Katima Mulilo at about eight o?clock that night. We were exhausted, we covered nine hundred and fifty kilometres in one day in less than ideal conditions. We had gone through four or five police check points where the police checked our papers and our driver?s licences; this took time. We were delayed in Bagani with no fuel, I was bitten or stung by some bug that left large burning blister type marks on my thigh, which also delayed us, went through two terrible detours as well as having a few unscheduled stops.

We booked into Motusi Lodge, which is right next to the Engen Garage in town. We had supper at the restaurant on the premises. The restaurant had a large television set in the corner of the bar and the locals came in to watch their favourite soaps. We forget that many people do not have electricity much less television and all the other mod cons that we take for granted. The locals appear to be regulars who come in every evening to watch the show and they really get involved emotionally with the characters in the show, cooing with the love birds, shouting at the villain, and discussing who should be doing what with whom. When the show is over, they have a post mortem of the show over a drink and then they slowly filtered out and joined friends and family at the tables in the restaurant. We had a chat to our host and his son. The son promised to show us an unusual tourist attraction in Katima the following morning on our way out of town. That night I got snacked by mosquitoes. Not a good day for me and bugs!

The following morning, we followed our host into Katima and there in the centre of town was a hollow Baobab tree in which some eccentric individual had fitted a toilet. The bowl was filled with concrete to dissuade people from using it as a loo. Why was a toilet fitted in the tree? Nobody could tell us.

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We crossed into Botswana and travelled through the Chobe Game Reserve on the transit road from the border post to Kasane. We met up with a group of four KTM riders at the Botswana border post and were travelling through the reserve just behind them. We saw one elephant on the side of the road. It was a solitary elephant, which I assumed to be a young bull. It was very nervous with the noise of the bikes were making. The KTM?s had already passed him and we stopped quite far away from him so that he could cross the road. He stood a while swinging his trunk and flapping his ears in agitation. He then made up his mind that he would take the chance and crossed the road with alacrity and disappeared into the bush on the side of the road within seconds. We did not see the KTM riders again.

We crossed the border into Zimbabwe just before lunch. The border officials were pleasant, helpful and courteous. We took it easy on the ride into Vic Falls. There was no hurry as the total distance that day was only 220 kilometres. We booked into the Sprayview Hotel on the border of Victoria Falls village. In the Pre-Bob days, the hotel was a two star hotel. The hotel is now a little run down and tatty. The linen on the beds is frayed; fixtures such as the safes in the rooms are no longer working; the curtains have seen better days. The waiters are very neatly attired with clean shirts, neatly pressed trousers and shiny shoes but the shirts are so old and well worn that they are paper-thin. The waiter serving you at dinner is the same person who cleans your room. They do what they have to do to keep on going. The menu is not limited by the chef?s imagination but rather what ingredients are available. It is easier to enquire what is available and order accordingly. The hotel was very quiet with only a handful of guests. The thing that struck me the most was the courage, perseverance and optimism shown by the ordinary Zimbabwean people who were all hoping that life will get better, in the interim they make a plan with what they have and what they can get.

We unpacked our bikes quickly and took a quick ride into town to see what changes had taken place since we were last there six years ago. Vic Falls reminds me of a bemused genteel old lady which has fallen on hard times and not really sure what has happened to her or what the future holds.

A consignment of petrol, leaded only, had arrived at the Total garage in town. The queue for petrol was at least two kilometres long, fortunately on a slight down hill so that people did not have to start their cars each time to move a position. I believe some people actually get paid for sitting in the queues for people. The reason that there is such a queue is not because there is such a shortage of petrol but with money exchanged on the black market, petrol only costs the equivalent of two rand. Across the border in Zambia, people are paying about eight rand for a litre of petrol, so that when people know a consignment of fuel is due in they come across the border to buy petrol at a much cheaper rate. I thought that the petrol is being supplied by South Africa and I was a bit fed up that the petrol price in South Africa was so high in comparison to that of Zimbabwe, but I was told that the petrol is coming into Zimbabwe via the Beira corridor. On the other hand, how can Zimbabwe buy refined fuel and then still transport it to various towns and sell it to their citizens for less than half of the price of fuel in South Africa.

We took a ride along the road that runs along next to the Upper Zambezi River. We stopped at what used to be a caravan park, which is now a derelict dump on the side of the side on the river. It is such a waste as the land is in a prime position on the edge of the river. We also stopped at the Big Tree, an enormous old Baobab tree. This tree is now so old it no longer produces seeds. A fence has been erected around the tree to prevent vandals desecrating or destroying it. The local municipality has also put two tourist police on duty at the tree to stop the street hawkers harassing the tourists. Apparently the tourist police have been put on duty at several tourist attractions in and around town and they have made a big difference and have cleaned up on crime.

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To finish off the afternoon we decided to visit the Crocodile Ranch and Nature Sanctuary. I have never seen so many crocodiles in one place. The crocs vary in size from hatchlings all the way through to the very large breeding males. We were there just in time for ?feeding?. The crocs all start congregating under an overhead walkway close to ?feeding? time. The man feeding the crocs hooks a piece of meat to the end of a long wire and dangles the titbit above the crocs in the enclosure. The crocs jump almost half their length out the water to get to the meat which is jerked away just out of reach. The croc?s mouth shuts with such a bang that most of us watching took a few steps back with fright. We then watched the two male lions being fed as well as a female leopard.

We popped in at Victoria Falls Hotel to have a quick look around as well as see what the current rates were. The view of the bridge over the Zambezi from the hotel is good but the rates at the hotel even with the black-market exchange rate were still a bit rich for us.



We got back to our hotel just before sundown and spent the evening in the bar and met some very interesting Zimbabweans. The next day we rode on one bike down to the Falls. I was a bit hesitant about leaving my bike unattended in the parking lot but the ?car guard? promised to keep an extra special eye on it.

The walk along the front of the falls was very different from my first visit to Zimbabwe. That time we had gone up during low water to white water raft as that is the most exciting water to raft and there were bare sections along the end of the precipice. This time it was high water and the amount of water going over the falls was huge, the water was going over the full length of the precipice.

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The falls are most awe-inspiring. I was told that the amount of water going over the edge was rated on a scale of 0 to 6. When we were there it was at 3.6. The spray from the falls was like walking through a shower. We were soaking wet by the time we had walked about halfway along the path through the rain forest. I had to wait for the wind to blow the spray away from us before I could take photos at the lookout points dotted along the walkway.

I had a dream about bungi jumping off the Vic Falls Bridge. We decided to take a walk from the border post out over the bridge over the Zambezi to watch the bungi jumpers. It was about a two-kilometre walk from the border post to the bridge, very hot with the sun beating down on us. I got to the jump point and decided that the jump was way too high and life was far too good to try that one. The view was good!

We spent the rest of the day browsing through the few shops left in Vic Falls and lazing around the pool at the hotel.

We originally planned on travelling home through Zimbabwe, but with the general elections coming up in the next week as well as being told that there was no fuel available in Bulawayo, we opted to go home through Botswana. We left Vic Falls just after breakfast on Sunday morning. We made good time to the border post at Kasane. We refuelled in Kasane and took the highway down to Nata. The road was quiet and there was not much traffic. We refuelled at Pandamantenga and refuelled again at Nata.

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Nata River

We stopped at Nata lodge for a quick lunch. We arrived at Francistown just after three o?clock in the afternoon.

We booked into the Marang hotel. Our room was lovely and well appointed. It had the biggest and most comfortable bed I have ever seen. It had been a family day at the hotel and the gardens were full of people playing games, swimming and generally having fun. We had dinner in the restaurant that evening. We had a look at the casino adjoining the hotel but decided to give it a miss. We got to bed early that night and fell asleep listening to the rain drumming on the roof.

We left Francistown early the following morning in the rain, and crossed the border into South Africa at Martin?s Drift. We decided on the alternative route in preference to the freeway, it was just after Easter Weekend and there would be lots of traffic from Zion City. The road had some long sweeping curves into Ellisrus, which I took on a wobble. The straight road riding had left a flat centre section on the bike tyres and every time I leaned the bike over it had to crest the ridge before the bike leaned into the corner. I need new tyres before my next trip.

After a quick breakfast at Ellisrus we took the back roads via Vaalwater and finally joined the N4 at Settlers. The traffic on the highway was frenzied.

We arrived home at 3 o?clock in the afternoon. We had covered 5670 kilometres in thirteen days. The bikes had behaved impeccably. We had no problems - no punctures, no mechanical problems, no spills - but then the bikes were BMW?s and were properly prepared for the trip.

Travelling just the two of us was great as it allowed us to bond with shared hardships, shared jubilation in having overcome those hardships together as equals and shared moments of revelling in the beauty of this continent of Africa. The only downside to travelling as a couple in remote areas is the potential crises if something should happen. It would be better to be at least three people on bikes together or have a satellite phone.

The freedom of biking creates a way of life that allows the participants to live life to the full. I will go back to Namibia again; the stark beauty gets into your blood and creates a need that will never be assuaged. I also have a need to see the rest of our neighbouring countries - next Mozambique and then Swaziland and then Malawi and then ????..
 
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