The 5 Rivers of the Caprivi - The journey starts and we discover the Hippo Whisperer

2nd August. The first morning’s amazing bush silence, broken only by the bird life, and a beautiful African sunrise. We felt really privileged and still really excited by the thought of the next phase. This feeling was to remain throughout. I always felt really sad to leave a spot, but eager to see what was on the way, and to get to the next.

It was an early rise – and a long way to go to Maun – approximately 530Km and no idea what the roads were like. Despite being nourished by the prawns and some good, chilled white wine (and beer of course), Derek’s last trip on this leg was draining so we felt that we needed the early start. We needn’t have worried. Tar and long, flat good roads all the way. The altimeter hardly moved in 500 odd kms. We went by a number of very clean settlements along the way, by the edge of the Makgadikgadi pans and the ubiquitous Botswana donkey. On this drive we were struck by two things;
· Botswana doesn’t have many people in it. Seriously. A helluva lot of land and very few people. The settlements were sporadic at best, and we were told that there is even less behind them.

· Going past the pans - the stark whiteness of these areas with a very fine dust that gets in everywhere. You’re also led to wonder what on earth these people are doing living there. You cannot even begin to imagine how they would eke out a living, what they would eat or what they might grow – other than donkeys. As barren as it was, poverty was not apparent. The waves from the people were friendly and in greeting, on not the never ending “sweeeets”. As was to become a practice on the journey between stops, we would pull off on the side of the road for nourishment (and a smoke for me). You could do this you see. You never felt unsafe. Another little “people vs Garmin” glitch before we passed through Maun, behind people that were determined to drive below the speed limit, on our way to the Audi Camp Site. We arrived at – you guessed it – 2:30. We were never tired after these trips. This was as much due to the speed that we drove as it was our interest in seeing different things. When Di and Nes felt their eyelids grow heavy, Derek and I maintained an ongoing repartee of the two way radios.
Ooooh look – it’s got a pub!! A really nice pub. However, let’s get the erection over with first. A much smaller campsite, trailers closer together, and no difference in discussion time. Being in Maun, which is pretty much the hub of the safari and tour map in Botswana, the Audi Campsite was large and very well organised. Great ablutions, pub, pool and restaurant – we didn’t use the pool other than to have drinks around. It was not a “long stay” campsite and we continually had large numbers of foreigners (I guess we were too) using it as a transit camp. They tended towards tiny tents, huge busses, early evenings and very early mornings. Not a lot of luxury for them, but it looks as though the Europeans will believe that anything is a safari and will pay for it.
Oh yes, having just left the tail end of the Joburg winter, things were warming up really nicely the further north we went. We seldom had to dive for the warm clothes.
The necessary was very quickly dispensed with and we retired to the pub and pool to watch the sun set – a favourite activity, if you can call sitting still, watching the sun and drinking beer an activity. Later that evening, a great braai and we astounded the foreigners with the size of our fire. They tended more toward 2 pieces of wood and a burger patty. We, personally, felt that it fairly ordinary and didn’t even use all of our wood, but did manage some tastes of Sambucca, Jagermeister and others. Did I mention that we also took some alcohol?
Next morning, after a great breakfast, we did some replenishment shopping at a perfectly adequate SPAR. Maun had really grown since I was there last, and was more a town than a settlement.
After that, more feverish activity around the pool while we waited for the time to pass before taking a flip over the Okavango delta. At Maun international airport, we passed through customs, the obligatory foot wipe, and into a little 6 seater, flown by a New Zealander. Rumour had it that many New Zealand pilots came to Maun to lose themselves after the Rugby World Cup.
The weather lent itself to this – calm, clear and warm. This 1 hour flip is very difficult to describe. It probably took us into 25 to 20% of the delta. We flew over an amazing spectrum of textures, shapes and colours, and the variety of game that we saw in this short period had us pointing all over the place, shouting “did you see…., look … and there”, and trying to point to everything and see everything. Whiplash was a definite danger as we tried to take it all in. The pilot assisted in trying to show as much as possible, with a dive or two and some seriously steep turns that almost had Di sitting in my lap as she tried to avoid the drop, but see everything at the same time. The sound of the clicking of camera shutters even drowned out the sound of the engine on occasion.
This was all over too soon and we landed on a high (a runway actually, but you know what I mean) – desperately needing a beer to discuss it over. A little pub across the road from the airport was our next destination – clearly the destination of many travellers as an airport staff member came over to remind people that their plane to Johannesburg was boarding.
That night, drinks at the campsite, drinks in the pub, and a great dinner in the restaurant. After dinner, coffee and liqueurs at the campsite. All in all, a very pleasant day indeed. We were now well on our way, and in the groove. It was not a late night, as were very few. The days were filled with new things, people, sights and sounds and some beer. Bed was always welcome.

4 August – a slightly later morning as we didn’t have that far to go. Up at sunrise – I don’t think my travelling companions were that impressed with my version of late mornings. Despite trying to be quiet – everything that you work with is metal - so “quiet as a mouse” is probably not as quiet as it should be.
Derek had to go to “work” in Maun. He had a client to see (hope he claimed the trip) so Nes and I had a leisurely pack. On the way out we radioed each other and got our signals mixed up. We were haring to catch the Britzs and they were slowing down to wait for us. After some time we figured out this wasn’t working and the signal was getting weaker. Do you suppose that we might actually be in front of them, and should actually be doing things the other way around? Duh!!

More long, straight roads, a wee break (does that mean short?) and a cell phone break. This part of the journey was very dry and somewhat enervating. We didn’t come across a lot of signal on this trip, and needed to halt when we did find it if there were any important messages or calls. Thankfully these were few and far between. We know that our offspring were envious of this trip, but there’s also the sneaking suspicion that they enjoyed having us out of the way.
A little short of Shakawe we took the turn to Drotsky’s Cabins and Camp Site. We arrived there at – all together now – 2:30. What a mind blowing experience. From semi-arid, hot a dry – to a lush green oasis, cool and inviting. Our first sight of the 1st of the 5 Rivers – The Okavango. Hey – there’s a pub - a beautiful pub right on the banks of the river. Let’s … no – formalities first. When signing in we were warned that there would probably be some monkeys to welcome us. No worries, we thought, we’re prepared.
We went to the campsite, another big one, on the banks of one of the little tributaries. Beautiful, cool and shaded. Okay – so we know the next step – the discussion on positions and then the erection. Order sounds wrong hey J.
Done!! Something to eat – hey, bloody monkeys have made off with our cheese and rolls. We didn’t even see the little buggers. I chased them and they at least dropped the cheese. Out came our catties, now an important and permanent item in our camping paraphernalia, followed by a session of hide and seek. The little buggers knew exactly what a catty was, and once they realised we were serious, they kept a watching eye from a distance. Every now and then a scout was sent, but the minute the catty was shown, he would duck off. Off to Choppies in Shakawe for some meat, in particular, and then our favourite afternoon activity – a rest. This involved reading, snoozing and generally just chilling.

We had a desire to test the pub – we were sure that no one else had done this and wanted to ensure that it had the correct stamp of approval. It passed and we were privileged to sit there and witness a sunset over the Okavango River.

Beautiful, quiet, serene. And the beers were cold. At this stage it would be fair to comment that it appears as though beer was a critical part of our journey. It was, no apologies.
That night a braai – yippee – accompanied by a huge fire, beers and other drinks. I was starting to feel a little guilty over our contribution to global warming. That didn’t last. Yet another great day. Bed time.

We were woken by a gentle grunting sound and movement in the bush. There were hippos close by. What an amazing experience. It would grunt and we were extremely honoured to witness the incredible phenomenon and coming of age of the Hippo Whisperer. The hippo would grunt, and our Hippo Whisperer would reply, and then the Hippo would reply again. To all of those people that complain of snoring by their partners, we now have irrefutable evidence that man was actually born to live with nature. This is not snoring – it is the human’s forlorn cry in trying to re-establish our lost connection with nature and the wild. This epiphany transformed this into a melody and the comforting sound of our nights. We rested easily because of this and it accompanied us throughout our journey. I truly believe that we are better people for this spiritual discovery. A point, men do seem better at this, but it is not their exclusive domain.

Yet another magnificent morning. Clear, sunny and amazingly clean. This is so cool to wake up to and know that you were spending your day in a smog free environment and outdoors. Sad what is missed in the scurrying rat race.
Today was the day for us to visit the Tsodilo Hills, referred to by the locals as the Mountains of the Gods. They were about 60 Kms away. Packed brunch and we were gone. After the journey there, bolstered by some reading, we now have an Old Man Emu suspension next on the shopping list for the Prado. These are the only mountains / hills in this area, and have much significance for the locals. Rather than me rabbit on about them, here is a site that provides a short description

http://www.cap.nsw.edu.au/bb_site_intro/specialPlaces/special_places_st2/africa/tsodilo_hills.htm . There are many other references – some claim that some visitors feel uneasy in this place, and others are entranced by its spirituality. I must confess that I am much shallower than either of these groups. They were very interesting mountains, with great paintings and an enjoyable walk. Maybe we didn’t give it enough time as we were scheduled to go on a boat cruise / fishing trip at around 15:00. Of course, this could be that I’m just such a bad sight seer.

On the way there we encountered a dof American and his family who had taken what was fairly clearly a 4x4 capable trail to leave the hills, and had gone 300m more than anyone should in a Mercedes – especially one borrowed from a friend. With a somewhat smug (okay, I admitted it) ho, ho, ho, I drove the Prado through the bush to get behind him and hauled the vehicle out of the sand – to profuse gratitude. Nes got their whole life story in this time, but I forget it.

Made it back in the nick of time to prepare ourselves for the boat trip – this included the packing of cooler bags and fishing rods. We were determined to catch a tiger, which were just starting to run. Of course, my fishing history would probably suggest otherwise and that this would just be another body of water where I didn’t catch a fish. I didn’t tell Derek this as it would probably just have disillusioned him. Nes had a quiet, knowing, smile and just packed a book. Suffice it to say, the river entranced and the fish did not distract us from this. In the middle of the dry land, this wide, clean, deep river, with vegetation likened to that of Natal. Full up with birdlife, crocodiles, hippos and the such. The growth on the inside banks was thick and probably hid a myriad of animals, birds and plants. Botswana became more and more attractive by the minute – this river ran right passed the town of Shakawe, and there was absolutely no sign of pollution, litter or filth on its banks.

Amazing what people with pride in themselves can do and achieve.
Okay – so we had fished and lost on the 1st river. 4 to go. We had planned drinks and dinner in the restaurant at Drotsky’s that night. It was plain, but good, fare and a thoroughly enjoyable evening. After dinner, in the pub, we met the eccentric owner. He regaled us with stories of Botswana, the people and the President, making us like it more and more. He then had us in stitches when he told us he was a mechanic who had left Maun when there were more than 15 cars – it had become too crowded for him.

We had thoroughly enjoyed our stay in Drotsky’s and were loath to leave this oasis. However, our time had come and as much as we could have stayed, the lure of more adventure and different places was still strong. We were as excited for the next day as we had been on the first. Tomorrow we leave Botswana and cross into the Caprivi.

Good night hippos. We’ll speak with you.