Hello and goodbye dear readers...
I am writing to you from Johannesburg airport as I await my flight to Frankfurt. I look forward to coming home and seeing friends and I have, as always, enjoyed sharing my impressions (as brief and as shallow as they are) with you.
In particular for Steve, who shared my adventure in South Africa and who wanted to see a Bush Baby. Well here is XR, my supreme buddy. There were a few tears this morning when I left this guy. Deep love.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Last Post (Maybe... maybe not)
Thursday Early
Evening
Knowing this adventure is almost over makes me hyperaware of
so many things I have come to take for granted over the past six weeks: I
treasure every moment and every degree of temperature and every moment without
cloud or rain. Soon I will be home and unafraid of direct sun, sleeping with
covers with weight and getting through the day without my fingers and feet
swelling up (and slimming down overnight).
And because I am hyperaware of the impending end of this
journey, I am already thinking about how to be somewhere warm again next
Christmas.
But Steve and I ended our trip to South Africa with a superb
high at Ukutula. Namibia has been super interesting (but awfully hot for Bwana)
but I will end this adventure to a hot and dry country with two nice days in
Meno a Kweno Tented Camp in the infamous delta area of Botswana. Meno a Kweno
looks lovely in the brochure I have, like the exquisite tented camps of
Tanzania. Here’s hoping…
Whether or not there will be Internet there remains to be
seen.
As usual, walking in hot dry Windhoek, I was drawn to the
steeples. I love architecture of faith and here is no exception. Churches are
my sanctuaries when I travel (when they are not in services). I can be cool,
usually alone, feel safe and relax in a church, no matter where I am or what
faith.
At dinner, I met Tom. He is an engineer from Belgium who is
here to be part of a bike race through Sussosvlei and its 40° temperatures. I
suspect Tom is seriously heterosexual. We had a thrilling night—at least I
did—because his work is in staging. He and his team, for example, created the
huge “Space ship” staging for the global U2 tour and he is now working on
special staging needs for the Cirque du Soleil area shows. Super interesting
guy.
The plan is I get picked up at 6:15 am tomorrow for a 9:15
flight to Botswana, followed probably, by a long drive to the delta. Plan B, is
that my hotel takes me if the driver does not show up. More whenever….
Friday: To Botswana
I got up at 4:30 and was picked up at 6:00 for a drive to
the airport with Iwanna Dye. I was scared stiff, plus he got me there way too
early for my 9:15 flight. A short flight and I was in Maun and while I waited
for my ride to the camp, a man stole a wallet and the whole neighbourhood went
after him. He was caught and arrested.
I met exuberant Germans, Nicole and Tom who also came to
Menoa Kwena. I bought everyone a drink while we waited for our drive (two hours
and sucking on my inhaler) and now I am writing to you from the banks of a
river that has been dry for 17 years. We are on a cliff in dry, dry desert and
it is 34°. I have a tent built with charm, solar lighting and a sweet shower
and bathroom right on the edge of the cliff and I look down on the river.
Best of all, there is a splash pool right on the edge of the
cliff in which to keep cool. My favourite part so far is meeting and talking
with the chef. This is a true safari style camp; cooking of bread and our meals
is in tins on coals with coals also on top. Fab-u-lous! Outdoor showers on demand with water heated
from the cooking shower. Fab-u-lous! No power; no Internet.
It is hot and silent. We eat all together at one big table
and I am meeting everyone. I am opting out of all the activities I paid for
like the nature walk, in ten minutes, and the all-day drive. I cannot imagine
all day in a truck with people who have seen no animals before and are enjoying
their first safari; we will stop forever for my 4 billionth Wildabeest, zebra,
antelope, warthogs, etc. etc.
Instead, I read, relaxed and contemplated my re-entry to
winter and spent as much time as I wanted in the pool being cool. And at night,
dinner was a blast as was sitting around the fire talking under a full moon
that drenched us in a faux daylight because of the reflection of the white
sand.
Night delight: Bush babies in the tree overhead.
Saturday
Up at 6:00 and HOT by 9:00 and the whole mob here left at
10:00. I was virtually alone all morning, then a large family group of very
friendly people (Dooley/Palmers) arrived. Their kids (Oscar 10; Bella 13) are a
delight. They are profoundly mature, polite and engaging children in whose
company I delight. I spent all afternoon in the pool with them, their parents
and their Oma (Meryl). They made what might have been an almost boring say, fly
by in fun.
Terry and Meryl, Karen and Andrew, Bella, Oscar and Amanada (who is adopted); these are the Palmer/Dooleys. (Andrew is Irish). Rosie and Rob,
two others here, are people whom I could also spend the rest of my life with.
Honest admission: I shuddered when I saw the family arrive.
Again, I had to face my very negative view of others. And as so often happens,
these people to whom I take an instant aversion turn out to enliven and enrich
my experience. It’s rather sad that no matter how many wonderful people I meet,
I can’t shake my deep-rooted desire to remain aloof. Thank God for kind
extroverts like Meryl.
At 5:00, welcome clouds and cooler temperatures. I am
excited about sleeping in much more comfortable conditions tonight. At 6:00 we
went to visit the bush baby that was released yesterday.
Sunday: Last Day
The day started with a bush walk in the morning with the
Joquasi bush people. A routine. Our guide is the handsomest most charming young
man imaginable; his mother is one of the dancers. The best part by far was me
being the first to hear what I thought might be elephants in the river. I
called the guide; the elephants got louder and louder and we realized that they
were coming up to where we were.
When they smelled us, they panicked. They started bleating
and trampling the bushes but we could not see them coming. The bush people took
off; that got me a little worried, but In fact, we had scared them so the
trumpeting and growling we heard was a warning and they stampeded back to the
other side of the river.
A lovely casual day with the Dooley/Palmers in and by the
pool was my afternoon. They are spectacular people, every one of them. And at
6:30, we went to see how the newly independent little Bush Baby was doing. No
question: I am his new favourite person now that Laura is gone. I wear the
shirt he has marked and we spent a never-forgettable half our together. I am in
love with XR. He would visit no one but me.
Monday: Departure Day
Last night after an extremely pleasant evening with Rob,
Rosie and the Palmer/Dooleys, I went back to my tent for my final night and
this never-use-a-flashlight, never-wear-shoes idiot encountered a large yellow
scorpion—not deadly, but you want to die or cut your limb off for three hours.
Not being a killer, I chose to stay with him/her and watch until she burrowed
into the soil so that I could go to sleep with confidence. (Silly, I know.)
Up to a cloudy day. Yay! It is cooler than usual and the
breeze makes it bearable for me to wear my goin’ home clothes during the drive
to Maun.
The Palmer/Dooleys would welcome me back, and Rosie and Rob
have invited me to come to Australia. Having human destinations appeals to me
very much; it is one way to enjoy travelling alone.
Every trip ends in suicide. Last year it was Zanzibar to
Switzerland via Dares Salam and Istanbul, then to Toronto and then home. This
year: 10:00 am Dec. 31 departure by car to Maun; 2:00 pm flight to Johannesburg
that arrives at 3:40, followed by an 8:15 flight from Jo’Burg to Frankfurt
arriving at 6:15 am Jan. 1; finally, at 10:15 am, my last flight from Frankfurt
to Vancouver, arriving at 12:20 noon on New Years Day.
My tent at Meno a Kwena.
The library area.
The eating area ensures that everyone meets each other.
I met THE most wonderful people here.
Bwana taks in the view from his porch.
My outdoor shower with FABULOUS view.
My second visit with bush people.
Our fabulous and handsome guide.
His mother.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Friday: To Botswana
Thursday Early
Evening
Knowing this adventure is almost over makes me hyperaware of
so many things I have come to take for granted over the past six weeks: I
treasure every moment and every degree of temperature and every moment without
cloud or rain. Soon I will be home and unafraid of direct sun, sleeping with
covers with weight and getting through the day without my fingers and feet
swelling up (and slimming down overnight).
And because I am hyperaware of the impending end of this
journey, I am already thinking about how to be somewhere warm again next
Christmas.
But Steve and I ended our trip to South Africa with a superb
high at Ukutula. Namibia has been super interesting (but awfully hot for Bwana)
but I will end this adventure to a hot and dry country with two nice days in
Meno a Kweno Tented Camp in the infamous delta area of Botswana. Meno a Kweno
looks lovely in the brochure I have, like the exquisite tented camps of
Tanzania. Here’s hoping…
Whether or not there will be Internet there remains to be
seen.
As usual, walking in hot dry Windhoek, I was drawn to the
steeples. I love architecture of faith and here is no exception. Churches are
my sanctuaries when I travel (when they are not in services). I can be cool,
usually alone, feel safe and relax in a church, no matter where I am or what
faith.
The plan is I get picked up at 6:15 am tomorrow for a 9:15
flight to Botswana, followed probably, by a long drive to the delta. Plan B, is
that my hotel takes me if the driver does not show up. More whenever….
Look at those nice round lines!
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Last day in Namibia
FYI: Today is my last day in Namibia. I decided to take a cab into downtown and check out various markets to find the "right" gift for my kitty sitter and dear friend, Leslie. Well Mr. Impulse, Bwana's other name, walked in 34° heat for four hours to find it. But mission accomplished. I hope she likes it.
After the high of three fabulous emails the other day (see previous post), getting online here in Windhoek (barely) brought sad news of my close friend Beth's mother. Sylvia, a grand old dame in my opinion, passed in the night. Once, long long before I met Beth and we became such close friends, I slept in Beth's room because friends had rented it from Gordon and Sylvia.
Tomorrow, early, I go to Botswana to stay in a tented camp in the famous river estuary. My dreadful return travel day begins at 7:00 pm on the 30th (Vancouver time, which is 5:00 am on the 31st, Namibia time) and I am home Jan 1 at 12:20 pm and am very happy not to be arriving at night after so long in transit.
Signs from the road...
Shade ahead.
Warthog warning.
Koodoo warning.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Catching Up Again: Christmas in Etosha National Park
Monday: To Etosha
National Park
I was picked up at my hotel at 8:30 as planned. There was a
woman in the front seat; my seat; Bwana was grumpy because Bwana is used to safari
alone. But the woman, Maria, is a straight-shooter who is also supremely easy going;
she is a retired gynecologist from Brazil and travelling alone.
And thank God because we were in the car together for ten
hours. For me, that is torture, but along the way we had lunch in a little town
and we stopped at the park entrance for a short repose. But the day after
tomorrow we got back, so as I write, safari drives tomorrow are not at all
appealing.
BUT, I had one seriously big desire in coming to Namibia.
More than anything, I wanted to see the Himba “red” people; the Namibian people
who wear red clay on their bodies and in their hair. Like the Massai, they
fascinated this child who eagerly devoured every issue of National Geographic
(long before I’d ever heard of television). Our driver, Rodney, is a Herero
(Himba people adapted to modern dress and culture).
The landscape here captivates me. I take tons of photos I
never show anyone else but they evoke memories like nothing else. I am full of
animals, but I never get my fill of nature. We saw lighting, rainbows,
billowing beautiful curtains of rain and driving the last bit in the golden
hours just before dusk, with our windows open and the landscape full of plants
that are in the blue/green milky dusted range.
And here at Lalali, an oasis, we are a small village of
bungalows with a central canteen. They have kitchens, a sitting room, bedroom,
patio, bar-b-q and air con in both the major rooms. It is ideal for a family to
come and stay and do day safaris (but it ain’t Tanzania). The only problem:
there have been smokers in my room. God bless our public health policies at
home.
Dinner was mediocre and Marie was not pleased; but what can
you expect really in so remote a place. She and Rodney went to the waterhole
after dinner; I came home and read more of The
God of Small Things.
Tuesday (Christmas)
Up at 5:00 to eat at six and go for a drive until lunch. I
have negotiated this arrangement so that I can bail at noon on the driving. We
face another ten-hour drive tomorrow, back to Windhoek and Galton House (that
has no privacy and lousy beds) for two nights. During the day, I will go to
museums or the central square in hopes of seeing more traditional dress.
The drive was uneventful.
Safari tourism here is based on waterholes but there has been so much
rain, waterholes are currently irrelevant. We are not seeing much. But for a Christmas day, it has been fine. Getting
up early and putting on nothing but a t-shirt and shorts is sweet, and so is
being able to step outside into a warm sage wind, a smorgasboard breakfast and
a four-hour chauffered drive in the glistening clear morning light of long
shadows and a breathtaking sky.
Laundry, reading and writing here in my cabin through the
afternoon in advance of a long drive tomorrow. I finished The God of Small Things (beautifully written; I didn’t feel a
thing—not a thing) and now I am
reading A visit from the goon squad.
Wednesday: Boxing Day
The ten-hour trip of Monday in reverse today; I have seen a
lot of the country, and that is good, but there has been too much car travel of
late. Maria commutes by plane as often as possible but I will going to
Botswana’s delta from Maun by car. You see the country when you are on the road
even though it can take forever.
A Hiba mother and child; front and back view.
This stunning bird, the Black Coran, has gorgeous yellow legs and a loud, loud voice.
At the beginning of my trip, I had one of my worst experiences with anxiety but on my way to the airport in Vancouver, I saw a rainbow and I took it to be a good omen. And my trip, so far, has caused no anxiety at all, so yesterday, when I saw another rainbow, it felt like a good omen for my return trip.
As last year in Tanzania (see old posts) the landscape forces me to record it but I fear the pictures do not impress you at all as the reality has me. Coming from a place with no horizon due to all the mountains, these immense flat plains stun me with their scale and beauty.
A favourite bird, Guinea Fowl, are everywhere and can be taken for granted like Springbok and Impalas, but these very common creatures are stunningly beautiful.
This is Marie, Rodney and the truck at the Etosha Pan. The pan is a zillion hectares of caked depression that can fill with water when there are massive rains like last January, but then it all evaporates in this incredibly hot place.
The Sprinbok here in Etosha are the only ones with black
faces.
The Week Ahead and Posting
Sunday Evening
Tomorrow I go to Etosha National Park to do day safaris
(mixed feelings) and to stay at a lodge for two nights. The lodges seem to have
better Internet as they use direct satellite hookups, so with luck I will be
able to post photos of what I see.
The hotel here in Windhoek is dreadfully slow, so photos are
impossible to upload, and after Etosha, I am back here for two nights and very
eager to get downtown to the market where I am hoping to see traditional
Namibian clothing in a museum or on people in the market. I hope desperately to
see the traditional dress and to be able to post my photos.
After my return here, I go to Botswana and to who knows what
in terms of Internet availability. If I
disappear, you will know why.
MERRY CHRISTMAS from Bwana, dear readers!
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