The one with the mokoro</strong>

29 January 2020 (day 57)

Today is in large part a drive from Kasane to Maun through rural Botswana. Steve kindly agrees to collect Sara from reception on the way out of site rather than her hobbling slowly across a dark campsite from our room to the camping ground, and we’re off off and away by 6am.

Botswana is beautiful but largely as flat as a pancake. Elephants and giraffes dot the side of the road both inside and outside of the tree line over the course of the drive. I’m sat opposite Nahiko who has excellent bush eyes, and he points out elephant after elephant to me as the hours pass.

Botswana: flat as a pancake. (Not as flat as a Nashcake, those are stuffed with Nutella and folded messily into quarters.)

We eventually arrive at Sedia Riverside Hotel after a shopping trip for supplies. The rest of the group will be going into the Okavango Delta for a three day and two night camping and bush walking trip but we obviously can’t do that with Sara’s injury so will be staying behind, and we upgrade into an en suite room to let her rest her leg properly for four nights. Since the injury, stairs have been challenging for Sara but she’s adopted a new way of tackling them which we’re calling “the bum shuffle”. She’s naturally now well on her way to mastering the technique and will be releasing her debut dvd on the guaranteed new fitness craze just in time for Christmas 2020.

While trekking all of our bags and water to our room for the next few days, I spot an interesting looking bird with a fun walk in the campsite. Nash later tells me it’s called a hoopoe. I enjoy the name very much.

A blurry version of the weird and wonderful hoopoe

Other than that, nothing much of note happens aside from Nash booking us, Olly, Melissa and Jan a scenic flight over the Delta for the day they return. When dinner is ready, I make up Sara’s plate and walk it from the campsite up to the room and we eat together away from the group with some Tall Horse wine before having an early one as we’re both pretty wiped from travelling. Before turning in I go get a set of truck keys so that I can access our stuff in the vehicle while everyone is away over the next few days. The only people not going are me and Sara, Steve, and Luke who’s not feeling well and wants to preserve funds for other activities later in the trip.

30 January 2020 (day 58)

We wake up to a text from Luke asking for the keys to the truck to lock it up because Nash has had to go to hospital unwell (we learn a few hours later that he has malaria and he spends most of the day having fluids pumped into him) and Steve is therefore going into the Delta with the group, taking his keys with him. Moments later, there’s a knock on the door and it’s Ted telling me I need to go to lock the truck ASAP as they’re now going. I later learn that Steve also has a set of keys and chose not to lock the back of the truck up so there was no actual urgency, but in the moment I don’t know that and off I go to lock everything up.

At the truck I find Luke who’s feeling a bit better. This is positive but we suspect he has malaria, the probability of this having increased with Nash’s diagnosis, and any improvement might only be temporary before the next cycle of symptoms kicks in.

Sara and I have a gentle morning of not doing very much. We’d been really looking forward to the trip into the Delta and are disappointed not to get to go. The company the group has gone with, Afro Trek, is located within the hotel’s grounds, so I decide to find out if there are any other options or activities suitable for someone with a fractured leg which we could do tomorrow.

Over at the offices, they outline the only options. The first is a day safari to a park 3 hours drive away, which would mean leaving early and getting back late and a very long day in a car for Sara. I rule this out. The second option is a day trip into the Delta in a mokoro, a traditional dug-out canoe operated by a local poler who knows the Delta and can provide information on the plants and animals there.

There’s a mokoro right outside the office so the staff and I go to it and I pretend to be Sara with one good leg to establish how she’d get into and out of the boat, and how much leg space she’d then have inside to check she’d be able to fit and sit comfortably. We then go through various other logistical points, including how far any walking would be, and the staff assure me that this will be suitable and achievable for someone in a moon boot and on crutches.

I feel pretty good about the viability of the trip, although a bit tentative about whether we ought instead to use the time to fully rest Sara’s leg. Back at the room though, Sara is up for going, particularly given there’s really very little walking involved. We decide to go ahead and book and I confirm with the office. We’re officially going into the Delta!

The afternoon passes with preparing for our day trip and some catching up on the blog (we’re behind again - I’m writing this on day 66 in Spitzkoppe, Namibia!). It’s then an early tea at the hotel’s restaurant and the food is really very good. Our server, Ocean, brings us a starter of burekas (some Middle Eastern pastries) to share, a fillet steak and chips for me and beef shawarma for Sara for mains, and the most thick and decadent chocolate mousse, again to share, for dessert.

Back at the room it’s an early night for us as we’re being picked up to go to the Delta at 7:30 in the morning.

31 January 2020 (day 59)

It’s Delta day! I make us each a cheese sandwich in slightly stale rolls (mmm) and gather our things together to cart across to Afro Trek’s offices from where we’ll be collected.

We’re there in good time and see three safari vehicles, including one much larger one, waiting for us. It seems we won’t be going alone into the Delta.

Slowly other people arrive and there’s quite a big group, which it turns out is an overlanding group just like ours. I assume we’re joining them on a day trip but this doesn’t turn out to be the case. They’re all loaded into one car and the larger vehicle and then take off towards the Delta. This leaves just one safari vehicle, me and Sara plus its driver, Julius. Maybe others are still to arrive, or maybe we’ll be picking people up at other hotels, I think, but the answer is no to that too. We have a private vehicle for just us, and when Sara sits in the cab to avoid climbing up into the back and to maximise leg space, I’m alone in the back with four rows of four seats all to myself!

We drive out of Maun on standard roads for about 20 minutes and then turn onto a compacted dirt road which we follow for another 25 minutes, passing the other two Afro Trek vehicles as we go. We continue until I catch a sparkle of something in the distance and a few moments later we pull up on the grass near to the water’s edge.

Along the banks of the river are the mokoros and a bustle of locals who are presumably the polers and fishermen who’ll pilot them. Julius introduces us to Lalas, our poler, and Lalas loads up our mokoro with our stuff, also wrapping our sleeping mats from the truck around the chairs to make a much more comfortable seating arrangement.

If I fits, I sits! Okavango Delta, Botswana

With Sara safely on board and comfortable, I climb into the front of the boat and Lalas launches us backwards into the river before joining us at the back of the boat himself. He smoothly poles us out into the water and along the banks and into a narrow channel of water surrounded by tall reeds.

Ready to rock ‘n’ pole, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Reeding between the (water) lines, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Plenty of room for the moon boot and crutches - win! Okavango Delta, Botswana

The mokoro glides silently over the water and, with no other boats around, the only sounds we can hear are the gentle ripple of the river, the rustle of grass and reeds in the light breeze, and birdsong from the nearby bushes. The channels are very shallow, not more than knee deep a lot of the time, and the water is completely clear so we can see right to the bottom and watch the many tiny fish darting around. There are more water lilies and lily pads than I can count, and the whole place is incredibly beautiful and tranquil. I feel contented and completely at peace as we make our way through the Delta.

Lily pads galore, Okavango Delta, Botswana

We found our happy place, Okavango Delta, Botswana

We pass from channels into lagoons and pools and into more channels. Some of the lagoons are home to hippos and we pass a safe distance away from them on the other side of the pool. I remember that we were told early on that hippos kill more humans than any other wild animal in Africa (mosquitos excluded) and that they’re very territorial and vicious in water in particular. I’m glad we stay nice and far away from them!

Warm sunshine + blue sky with fluffy clouds + lush vegetation + clear calm water = bliss. Okavango Delta, Botswana

Lalas tells us the names of the birds, insects and plants we encounter. Over the course of the morning, we see plenty of birdlife including a number of open billed storks, egrets, black herons (the ones who spread their wings like an umbrella), African cormorants, African darters, malachite kingfishers, African jacanas, white faced ducks, African pelicans, purple herons, African fish eagles, blacksmith plover, and a Goliath heron (the biggest heron in Africa).

Open billed stork, Okavango Delta, Botswana

African fish eagle and a giant termite mound, Okavango Delta, Botswana

We stop at an island and Lalas and I get out of the boat. He picks up and shows us a skull which belonged to a very large catfish. He tells us catfish in the Delta can easily grow up to 6m long, about the same length as the crocodiles and our mokoro. He also picks up a palm nut from a palm tree and tells us they’re eaten and enjoyed by baboons and humans alike. The palm nut he’s found isn’t ripe though so alas we don’t get to try it.

Just imagine a catfish the length of this mokoro - craziness! Okavango Delta, Botswana

When we first arrived at the Delta, Julius had told us that we may be able to find and have lunch with the rest of our group. Lalas agreed this should be possible, and sure enough at around noon we spot a white body on the shore doing some laundry, and another white body in the water off one of the channels ahead of us. We wave hello to Nahiko on the shore and he does an enjoyable double take in surprise at seeing us. Jim, staying cool in the water, greets us with a similarly surprised “You made it!?”

We pull up on the shore just outside the bush camp. It’s very hot in Botswana (or Hotswana, as I’ve taken to calling it), and we find most of the rest of the group relaxing in the shade with others napping in their tents. We’re given a warm welcome and people seem pleased to see us, which is always much better than “urgh, it’s you two again”.

Reunion in the Delta, Okavango Delta, Botswana. Photo credit: @meli444violet

We catch up on what everyone’s been up to and it sounds like they had a good bush walk but that the highlight for everyone so far has been the mokoro ride to the campsite. There had also been an apocalyptic storm the night before for something like three hours where everyone was stuck in tents with no other shelter available. Other than that, it doesn’t sound as though we’ve missed anything critical so far.

We have lunch and spend around 90 minutes in the camp before heading back off with Lalas for another couple of hours in the mokoro. As we’re gliding away, we find Rich taking a dip in one of the channels and Sam attempting to pole a mokoro nearby. We wave goodbye to them until tomorrow.

Rich taking a dip as we glide out of camp, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Sam trying to learn to pole…he didn’t fall over but he wasn’t exactly graceful. Okavango Delta, Botswana

The afternoon is much like the morning with an abundance of birdlife around us, but we also see baboons on the bank of one of the lagoons, and by standing up I can see some zebras in the far distance. The water is so clear and still it’s like a mirror reflecting the stunning sky and landscape above.

Peaceful poling, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Safari Jen spotting zebras and blending into the landscape, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Eventually we find ourselves back at the launch station and are disappointed to have the experience end. The mokoro safari was the thing I had most been looking forward to about the expected overnight Delta trip, and it absolutely lived up to expectations, possibly better even, as the overnight group only get one evening mokoro safari with direct mokoro travel to and from the bush camp, whereas we’ve had both a morning and afternoon mokoro safari.

Forty five minutes later we’re back at the hotel, surprisingly not burned given we’ve been sat in direct sunlight in the hottest part of the day. Thank you, Wilko brand sun cream! Sara’s leg has also held up and feels okay, which is good news indeed.

We turn up to the restaurant for dinner to find that Ocean has reserved us a table and will be our server again. Tonight we share a fairly uninspiring flatbread for starter, I have the shawarma Sara had last night while Sara has a pizza for main, and we go crazy and get two desserts between us, one mango strudel and another of the chocolate mousses. We also decide to try an Amarula each, the African liquour from the Marula tree we saw in Matopos. It tastes a little like Baileys but more like alcoholic melted ice cream. We’ll be having much more of this on this trip … probably even tomorrow!

1 February 2020 (day 60)

Because of our slightly unexpected day trip yesterday, the laundry situation has gotten worryingly critical. With Sara refusing to help, citing her leg as a clear impediment to bending, walking, and crouching, it’s all on me as the hotel’s laundry service is ludicrously expensive. Nearly two hours later, everything is as clean as I can make it by hand and hanging to dry. My poor hands hurt from wringing out the clothes. Sara reminds me not as much as her leg hurts from being fractured. It’s a fair point.

To soothe my poor sore hands, and Sara’s poorer sorer leg, I go to the bar and bring back coffees and Amarulas so we can DIY ourselves some Amarula coffee. As anticipated, it’s a total delight and happily the cafetière makes four cups and I had the good sense to buy us double amarulas so we have two each.

After a lunch of Sara’s leftover pizza from last night, it’s time to go to Maun airport for our flight over the Delta. A taxi picks us up and takes us to the airport where we find there are wheelchairs, a very welcome surprise for Sara who otherwise would have had an unpleasant amount of walking through the airport.

A porter from the airport or possibly airline initially pushes Sara in the chair. It becomes apparent however that he completely lacks understanding of how to do this effectively and without further injuring Sara. At a high kerb when Sara says she’d prefer to walk down it rather than be bumped down in the chair, he moves the wheelchair to exactly where she wants to step down onto the road, blocking her from doing so. Then in the airport going through security, he almost wheels Sara’s injured leg into the person in front, stopping only because of Sara’s panicked “STOP STOP STOP!” just in time. And finally when Sara asks to go to the ladies’, he wheels her over to it but again lacks the spacial awareness to do this successfully, almost pushing her injured-leg-first into the wall. I take over immediately following this third strike against him.

The plane is a small Cessna which seats six passengers, the pilot and the copilot. The pilot, Beetoo (not sure of spelling but that’s how his name sounded), explains how he’ll fly over the Delta and I have flashbacks to my flight over the Nazca lines in Peru in 2005 where I’ve never felt sicker in an aeroplane.

Jan, Melissa, Olly, and us with our tiny plane named after the member of the group who will be leaving the truck tomorrow

Tentatively I board the small plane, with Olly and Jan in the front-most passenger seats, Melissa in the middle row, and Sara and me at the back so Sara can stretch her leg out into the aisle in front. The pilot taxis the plane out onto the runway, accelerates, and moments later we soar into the sky and away.

Before. (Spoiler alert - there is no “After,” it wasn’t pretty 🤢)

It quickly becomes clear that it’s going to be a turbulent ride. We bump over pockets of air and drop a couple feet every so often. It’s slightly alarming but quickly becomes normal. I watch the horizon to try to avoid the almost guaranteed nausea from the bumping.

We fly no more than around 100m above land and have a really good view of the channels and pools below us. Shouts go up from around the plane. Elephants! Zebras! Giraffes! A pool filled with buffalo! Hippos! More elephants but this time loads of them! The shouts get more and more frequent as we fly and the abundance of wildlife below us is incredible.

Many many buffalos, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Around half an hour in, the heat in the plane is almost unbearable, and combined with the bumping I begin to feel unwell. My hands, feet and lips start to feel tingly and numb, and there’s a rising feeling of nausea and faintness. It later transpires that I’m not alone in this, as both Sara and Melissa feel similarly ill.

Okavango Delta, Botswana from the air - views worth feeling ill for

Thankfully we land back at the airport in time for things not to have become chronic, and we leave the plane feeling unwell but salvageable with water and cooler air. Sara and I immediately agree never to take a small plane like that again. We conclude that a helicopter is well worth the higher price tag to be able to enjoy the whole experience.

Despite feeling so unwell, it was still a really good experience and I’m very glad to have had the opportunity to do the flight. Having missed the overnight experience, the day trip and flight have enabled us to really see the Delta and some of the wildlife there and I’m immensely grateful for that. The Delta is another definite trip highlight for me.

Back at the hotel, we relax a bit and soon feel much better, just in time really for me to have to go on cooking duties down at the truck. We make a slightly weird carbonara which the group seems to like but I’m not keen on (perhaps they were just being kind). After dinner I pack up our things for the morning as we’re checking out and heading to Namibia so have an early start ahead of us.

2 February 2020 (day 61)

I’m woken suddenly in the night by a creaking noise that sounds like someone pushing against our balcony door. I rationalise that it’s probably just the wind against a wooden door and sit up in bed to see if I can see anything. I peer at the balcony door and the shadows against the curtain seem to move, almost like an arm withdrawing from the handle of the door. We’re on the ground floor and our balcony is a few feet above the garden in a dark part of the building.

With quickly rising fear, I tell myself that eyes can play tricks in the dark and probably it’s nothing, but the shadows continue to look like someone on the balcony and it tips me over. “Sara, I think there might be someone on our balcony.” That wakes her immediately and together we peer at the door, trying to read the shape of the shadows.

“Call reception,” she tells me. I get out of bed and creep to the phone, dialling the number. It rings and rings but no one answers and we realise it’s not attended 24 hours a day. I remember that there’s site security and a security office at the gate so look at the numbers but see nothing listed. No help is coming.

All the while Sara has been watching the balcony and hasn’t seen any further movement. I check the time and it’s now 4:15am, only 15 minutes ahead of when we had planned to get up, so decide to get up immediately and turn the lights on to scare anyone on the balcony away. A few minutes later I cautiously look out onto the balcony but see nothing. We’ve no idea whether there was someone or if it was just the wind, but when I tell Nash later he reassures me that security patrol the grounds all night so it’s unlikely that anyone was trying to break into the rooms.

The journey to the Namibian border is uneventful and we pass straight through and into Namibia with a border crossing even quicker and easier than Zimbabwe to Botswana.

We have lunch at the border and continue on to Rundu where we stop for groceries and then head down to the Okavango river to Sarusungu camp, our home for the night. The river forms the border between Namibia and Angola, and at sunset I head down to take some photographs. I could definitely swim that river without too much trouble - it’s not very wide at all - but surprisingly don’t see much border patrol along the banks of either country.

Okavango river between Namibia and Angola

We upgrade into a thatched roofed bungalow which is underwhelming for the price but has the en suite we need for Sara. Shortly after taking the room, I have to fetch staff to change the sheets on one of the beds due to the number of dead insects at the head. I’d note that they looked like they’d died because of an insect spray rather than that they lived on the bed, but we’re both unimpressed that the staff member’s solution is to remove the sheets, brush them off, and then remake the bed with them. It’s my bed and I resolve to use my own sleep sheet and pillow instead for the night, returning to the truck to collect them. I suspect I sleep better for it.

Our buggy bungalow. BUGalow may be a more fitting name.

3 February 2020 (day 62)

We leave early this morning for the short drive to Grootfontein and arrive at our campsite, Roy’s Rest Camp, by 10:30am. However, there’s been another issue on the truck around seat rotation, the never ending gripe on this trip. Today someone apparently thinks it’s unfair that Sara has the back four seats so she can have her leg up, as this means there’s two people having to share a double seat instead of having a double seat to themselves. The fact she has a fractured leg and needs to have it elevated, and also needs to be alone so that no one knocks her leg accidentally, seems to have bypassed this person.

Sara and I aren’t on the truck at the time, as Steve has kindly agreed to collect us outside our bungalow on the way out of the camp. This person’s proposed solution in our absence is that I should compensate for Sara’s unacceptable space hogging by being one of the two people to have to share a double seat every day, and others in the group can then rotate into the seat beside me and sit alone otherwise. It doesn’t strike the person that this isn’t remotely fair on me. Nonetheless and as a result, when we get onto the truck, I find myself sitting next to Jan, which is welcome if surprising to me (having missed the argument / discussion).

I spend the short journey coming up with an actually fair solution to the sharing situation. There are 15 passengers on the truck currently. Sara can’t and doesn’t rotate and doesn’t share, while Hamish and Gen are happy to share every day, leaving 12. There are exactly six days with drives, including today, until we arrive at Swapokmund where Gen and Hamish leave us, and at that point we have exactly the right number of seats for nobody to have to share. Easy solution: everyone pairs up and shares for one day and has a double to themself for five. I can’t see anything fairer than that and a few others agree with me when I test my logic out. I resolve to present this to Nash later as the final solution to the issue.

The cost of upgrading to a room is prohibitively expensive and based on a per person price rather than a cost for the room. However, after Sara beseeches the lady at the desk with a mix of logic (“the only difference between two people in the room versus one is one extra set of bedding to wash and change”) and appealing to her conscience (“if I have the room and Jen camps outside it to save the extra per person cost, do I just shout loudly in the night when I need help and hope she hears it, and if she doesn’t I’m stuck?”), the room is reluctantly discounted to a more manageable level for us. We’re very grateful, even if the lady isn’t interested in it. The campsite is decorated in a quirky rustic style with lots of unique wood and iron work and the upgrade is very nice indeed.

Oryx (gemsbok) linen: a must-have for any future home

We have a pretty uneventful remainder of the day in our room. Some of the group have gone out on a cultural trip to see the San people, a tribe of bushmen, but we both don’t as Sara’s leg needs to be rested. Instead, like the giant geek and over-organiser that I am, I draw up seating charts for every day up to and including arrival in Swapokmund to avoid any misunderstanding of my proposal and, more importantly, any future seating issues. If it’s on a chart in the truck, no one can say they didn’t know where they should sit or argue anyone’s not had to share.

In the afternoon when he returns from the trip to the bushmen, I run Nash through my proposal, logic and why I think it’s the only fair solution. He agrees and will tell the group at dinner that this is the new rotation for the week.

At dinner, the group responds well to the new seating order, a relief because there’s now clarity over things. The biggest problem at dinner instead was that Namibia so far has more moths than I’ve ever experienced anywhere before. I hate moths but unfortunately they seem to like me a lot and do their best to nuzzle into me and share my dinner. Nash and Sara both do their best to protect me but with limited success. I’m glad we have a room so I can escape them (the moths, not Sara and Nash).

4 February 2020 (day 63)

We leave the campsite at 7:30am and head to the Hoba Meteorite, a 60 ton hunk of space rock that hit the earth around 80,000 years ago and is apparently the largest known intact meteorite on earth. It’s also the most massive naturally occurring piece of iron known to be on the earth’s surface (according to Wikipedia).

We arrive there and walk the short distance to the meteor, finding an excellent sign along the way.

Beware of falling meteorites and pantoesque posing, Hoba Meteorite National Heritage Site, Namibia

We’ve been told we can walk on and around the meteor and I imagine an enormous thing you could spend half an hour walking around. In actual fact, the meteor is about 3m x 3m x 1m, so a fair bit smaller than my imaginings. We do, of course, climb onto the meteor. It seems rude not to if we’re allowed.

Space rock that essentially looks like a square Earth rock, Hoba Meteorite National Heritage Site, Namibia

Back in the truck and we’re off to Etosha National Park. Pretty much immediately after passing through the park gates, we start seeing black faced impala and kudu on the sides of the road.

We arrive at Namutoni, one of the Namibia Wildlife Resorts sites within the park itself, just after lunch and enjoy the sight of some banded mongooses playing outside reception. When I enquire about the price of upgrades unfortunately they’re too much. Sara is up for trying out camping so we’ll each have our own tent to allow Sara the space to move around with her wonky leg while I’ll camp right beside so she can call me if she needs help in the night.

Nash has also asked those interested in a night game drive to come with him to reception to book. Unfortunately there are 9 spaces available in the car but 10 of us keen to go. I take the decision that Sara won’t be able to sit comfortably in a full vehicle with her moon boot so opt us out. I’m disappointed not to go, as is Sara who thinks she would have been fine, but fortunately there’s another opportunity for a night drive tomorrow and I’m hopeful the car will have a few spare seats for Sara’s comfort.

We set up camp and head out on an afternoon game drive in the truck, leaving Nash behind to cook dinner. Our first sighting is of what we believe to be some Thompson’s gazelle, although Nash later corrects us that these are actually springbok. Our first springbok! This is followed by wildebeest and a tower of 20+ giraffes, some with much darker markings than we’ve seen before, a few drinking from a pool.

Bye Nash 👋🏼 thanks for cooking dinner while we go look at some animals!

The springiest boks you ever did see, Etosha National Park, Botswana

Watering wildebeest, Etosha National Park, Botswana

Giraffe rush hour, Etosha National Park, Botswana

Spot the difference? Etosha National Park, Botswana

And the prize for least graceful drinker goes to… Etosha National Park, Botswana

Because you can never have too many pictures of giraffes, Etosha National Park, Botswana

Over the drive we see ostriches, a new kind of zebra with shadow stripes (and one baby zebra breastfeeding), flamingoes, marabou storks (the giant ugly death birds are back!), plover, lots of starlings, and guinea fowl.

Feeding time, Etosha National Park, Botswana

Pink flamingos - Flapinkos, if you will. Etosha National Park, Botswana

A marabou stork ready for takeoff, it’s wing span is practically the same as our Cessna from the other day. Etosha National Park, Botswana

Most watering holes are empty on account of it being the rainy season. Usually they’d be the only source of water for the animals and therefore well attended, but during rainy season there are temporary pools of rainwater all over the park giving far more options for the animals. Good for them, not so much for us.

One of many beautiful but empty watering holes in Etosha National Park, Botswana

The most memorable encounter of the drive is seeing a springbok and her foal being pursued by two black-backed jackals. We join the chase, presumably some time after it started, as the mother and foal run towards us from the left and past to the right. The foal, clearly listening to its self-preservation pre-programming, runs and runs until we lose sight of it while the mother stops near the truck to try to head off the jackals, thus beginning (or continuing) a cycle of (a) jackals trying to follow the foal and (b) mother challenging / trying to distract the jackals to allow the foal time to escape.

Momma springbok fending off a black backed jackal, Etosha National Park, Botswana

We eventually leave without knowing how the encounter plays out. Probably the jackals will continue pursuing the springboks for a while until either they or the jackals tire or make a mistake. We’re rooting for the mother and foal.

The landscape in the park is unlike any other we’ve visited so far. Etosha in the local language means “Great White Place” because of its huge salt pans. The pans are however also surrounded by bushland, and while we don’t see the salt pans today, we do see some of the rest of the park which is green with bushes, shrubs and trees although not especially lush. With it being the rainy season, we’re accompanied by a dramatic sky filled with the promise of rains in the not too distant future. We hope it’s after we’ve moved on in the morning.

Yes, the zebras are lovely but look at those clouds! Etosha National Park, Botswana

🎶 Here comes the rain again 🎶 Etosha National Park, Botswana

Back at camp, Nash has cooked up some rump steak, a rare treat (excuse the pun). Sara tells me this is a poor joke but she’s mis-steak-en.

Nash, our fearless leader and a great cook, Namutoni Camp, Etosha National Park, Botswana

After dinner, the night safari goers head off and we decide to go to the floodlit watering hole on the outskirts of the campsite. We’ve been told by people with two fully functioning legs that it’s not a long walk to get there so take a chair with us so Sara can rest en route / sit down when we get there if there are no seats available. Accompanied by Nash, we slowly make our way there and it’s a hard graft for Sara on two crutches with only one weight-bearing leg. The trip back to our tent is unappealing for her.

The watering hole is exactly like the ones we saw earlier today but bathed in bright light. Disappointingly, other than a couple of impala we see no wildlife at the watering hole (damn you, rainy season!). We do, however, have some wine and Amarula (not together) and enjoy watching the lightning in the distance.

Nash hangs out with us for a while and then turns in for an early night. Shortly after he leaves, the heavens open. Fortunately we’re sitting under a thatched shelter so are protected from the rain; unfortunately the rain eases but doesn’t stop and eventually we’re forced to head back despite the inclement weather.

As expected, the return journey is hard for Sara. The crutches don’t have sufficient padding and are painful on her hands, as is taking all of her weight on her arms. Going any distance is also exhausting for her, and we take a few rest stops to allow Sara to sit down (in the rain) on the way back. It’s not fun for either of us.

When we finally get back to our tents, my tent isn’t where we left it. Confusingly, it’s now about 15 feet behind Sara’s, and all of my stuff inside, including the bed I’d made up, is jumbled. I can’t for the life of me fathom why someone would have moved my tent and go to bed irked by the mystery. We learn in the morning that the campsite was extremely windy and my tent did two backflips, with all my stuff inside, before people were able to peg it down. Mystery solved!