WELCOME TO AFRICA
Three countries, untamed wildlife, and vast, rough terrain were all part of a joyous, oncein-a-life-time overlanding adventure.
I have always been fascinated with overlanding in Africa but I knew that the places I wanted to visit would require a decent off-road rig – a type of vehicle that was always beyond my budget. However, I managed to arrange an opportunity to run a 4x4 Hilux from Bobo Campers, a premiere motorhome, camper, and 4x4 rental company based in Benoni, Johannesburg. It involved a 20-day drive around Botswana, Namibia, and the northern reaches of South Africa. Of course, I jumped at such an amazing opportunity.
After travelling for nearly 20 years, I like to do only minimal research on the places I visit so I always have a sense of adventure and experience unexpected discoveries. This is the reason why I wasn’t anticipating the country north of Johannesburg to be so sparsely populated with a barren, vast landscape. But only a few hours from the city, the tarmac suddenly ended and the red earth road became so rough that we were crawling along in second gear, threading our way through the rocks and patches of mud on the road, while the sun was setting and the GPS informing us that it was another three and a half hours to our destination that day.
My friend from Russia, who joined me on the trip, and I weren’t too worried, though. I’ve owned Toyotas before so I knew a brand new Hilux is very capable and reliable off-road. Once I got used to the pendulous weight of the twin tents on the roof, I knew it would go practically anywhere – and keep going.
The Journey to Marakele National Park
I suppose the GPS assessed that I would be driving at 60km/h (37 mph) all the way to Marakele National Park in Modimolle since it over-estimated our ETA after driving seven hours from Johannesburg. We arrived at the park 15 minutes before the gate closed. My friend and I set up camp with the sun bleeding over the sky as a herd of nervous impala milled around in a field in front of us. And then the first real culture shock came. A nonchalant ostrich wondered about interested in what we were making for dinner – welcome to Africa.
The next day, two rhinos appeared on the road in front of the Hilux, which was a definite wildlife highlight. It was amazing to be so close to such incredible animals (but not too close, though). The Hilux is a great off-roader but it wouldn’t stand much of a chance against a Rhino’s long, fearsome-looking horn. In fact, the park’s off-road route was prohibited according to the Bobo rental rulebook, but the tarmac to the top of the mountains at the far end of the park was still a spectacular drive – backing up as close to the edge as possible to let oncoming cars inch by fuelled the adrenaline.
Some great photos could have been taken but the park authorities have strict instructions not to get out of the vehicle. We abided by them as wild lions and leopards commonly wander around. But the view from the top over the towering and dramatic bluffs was epic. It was like the backdrop of a sci-fi film when they want to accentuate an alien landscape. We could have stayed up there all day. And this was only the beginning of the trip.
Botswana, New Year’s in Maun, and the Okavango Delta
We only had minimal information about Botswana but it included a list of highlights and recommended places to stop along our route. Everything was going to be an adventure as we explored the country. However, a bit of research would have revealed there is nothing to explore on the road after the Khama Rhino Sanctuary up towards Maun and the Okavango Delta.
We drove on a good tarmac road with hardly any traffic and there were just a few small herds of goats and donkeys to watch out for. It was two days of seeing constant, unchanging small spiky bushes at the side of the road and if we could have gone up a couple of metres higher we would have been able to see what a vast landscape we were travelling through.
But without a single hill, all we had were just a few metres of view on either side. It was far from boring, though. The more the scenery didn’t change the more we realized what a truly mind-blowingly immense landscape we were experiencing. Personally, I had never seen anything like it before, and I loved it.
If anyone travels the same way to the same location and complains of monotony, there’s something that will definitely wake them up. At first, we panicked, thinking that we were in the middle of an armed ambush, and tried to duck down behind the steering wheel. It wasn’t someone shooting at us, but big beetles were hitting and then exploding against the windscreen. Sometimes the sound of their sudden and violent deaths was so shockingly loud we couldn’t believe the glass didn’t crack.
We arrived in Botswana under the hot, baking sun just a few days after the Solstice. Down a dirt track in the bushes outside the small sun-bleached village of Mopipi, we stopped for lunch and some much-needed coffee while sitting in the shade of one of the countless spiky trees.
We had pretty much everything we needed to live quite comfortably for two weeks. The Hilux had two tents, a large fridge, full set of cooking
utensils, gas stove, and recovery equipment. The A/T tires with a standard diff-lock got us through some serious obstacles, but obviously, it’s a camper first and an off-roader second.
That evening we came across a random campsite just off the road and decided to stop. Without knowing exactly where we were, we cooked up some dinner before watching a stunning sunset. It was one of the ones that travel agencies use for their brochures with the golden arc falling behind the horizon silhouetting the trees. We probably couldn’t find that place on a map again but for me, not knowing exactly where I am gives me a great sense of just ‘being.’ That was one of my favourite evenings.
Next, it was on to Maun and we celebrated New Year’s Eve in a nice campsite just outside the Okavango Delta National Park under a huge jacaranda tree that unfortunately wasn’t in flowering season. To get into the park, we didn’t know we needed to go to an office in town to buy permits. Unfortunately, the office was closed on January 1 (oh well…I suppose there can be some downsides to not doing any research).
We also had a resident crocodile on the riverbank of our camp, which provided enough wildlife for us. We watched him move up and down the bank as we were safe behind a small barbed wire fence until some cows from the neighbouring field escaped and trampled it down. Then we were rather nervous when it got dark.
Around the western side of the Okavango Delta, there was still no change in terrain or scenery but unlike the south, where there was absolutely nothing, there were a few mud hut villages at the side of the road, and so we just had to stop and look around.
A friendly girl with a huge smile came out of a reed-walled yard to say hello and she proudly took me to look at her mud hut, which she’d decorated with a huge flower by sticking sand on the still wet mud wall. We were curious to know why they choose to live in houses that look like they are straight out of the stone-age, but couldn't find the right a moment to ask. We found out later it’s because they live in the floodplain of the delta and need to have easily re-buildable dwellings.
Despite this being a settlement of only about a dozen or so huts with a couple of winding dirt tracks, the GPS managed to guide us back to the main road. For a free download, Navmii is impressive and I can’t recommend it enough.
I personally have a fear of international borders. A couple of times I’ve been stuck at crossings for days on end, and even once I had my leg broken by an angry guard with a big stick in Serbia. So, I was a bit nervous as we pulled up at the stop sign at the Botswana/Namibia border.
In the end, there was nothing to fear as the guy in charge of the Namibian side had me laughing with his over-the-top formal British accent and how he got up to walk to another desk where we filled in another form for him. It was so much fun that after the formalities, I shook his hand to say thank you.
Namibia, More Wildlife, and Locals in Rundu
Immediately after the last control gate, we were on a dirt road as the Bwabwata National Park runs right up against the border in the Caprivi Strip, which looks as though it was plotted on a map by someone with a pencil and ruler. I stopped to ask a safari Jeep driver what we could see on our impromptu visit and he told us to take the next left for about 2 km (1.2 mi).
We followed his directions and there he was – a huge, dark-skinned adult elephant. It was the most magnificent creature we had ever seen. For me, the elephant was much more magnificent and majestic than the Marakele rhinos. He was gracefully striding at an angle across the track but looked at me and changed direction. After snapping some images, I jumped quickly back into the Toyota but having him aware of my existence was a really amazing moment.
A few more kilometres down the road, we stopped to make some sandwiches to eat at the wheel and then pulled into a quiet road that led to the lazy waters of the Okavango River with the thick forests of Angola on the other side. I was cutting cheese and rinsing salad when a couple of girls came with bowls of clothes and started washing them in the river right next to the Hilux. It seemed like a perfect scene of real Africa but actually, that was a little further down the road.
Driving into Namibia, we made our way from the Okavango Delta deep into the desert to stay at a most amazing campsite and then we were off to the coast for fish and chips! It was just about getting dark as we arrived in Rundu, but we didn’t see any signs of a campsite. Yet, next to a scrapyard and a bar pumping out loud music, there was a guesthouse with little thatched cottages. We threw our things down and went off in the gathering darkness to explore the town.
A security guard from the fuel station came over to warn us that it was a dangerous place to wander around but I didn’t think so. The worst thing that happened was that some macho guys, who were sitting on the side of the street listening to music through crappy car stereos and relieving themselves wherever they saw fit, shouted out some words at us. I have no idea what they were saying but the tone was unmistakable. I told my friend we’d probably just been racially abused. And that was pretty much the worst thing that happened for the whole journey. That evening we sampled some local beer and as we sat at a bar, the locals paid us absolutely no attention as though we were just a couple of people from the same village.
The next day was another mammoth drive through the mostly uninhabited scrub land of northern Namibia. Our destination was Spitzkoppe, a place that is so much more impressive than its name would suggest. The greenery had been getting thinner and thinner throughout the day and by the time we turned on to the dust road towards the towering peaks, the scrub had just about given way to full-on desert. The ground at the foot of the otherworldly rock scape is dotted with campsites and fire pits. It is by far the best place that I have ever camped. Even just signing in turned out to be an incredible experience.
I’d recently read a book about the development and diversity of the world’s languages and there was a part on Khoekhoe. It explained how the clicking sounds make it one of the most complicated and difficult languages to learn and here was the receptionist speaking it to a delivery guy as we filled out the form.
The local culture wasn’t exactly one in full bloom though. The grinding poverty was very apparent as the road into the campsite was lined with local trinket vendors sending out their small children to wave wind chimes at us. Their only potential customers were the people coming in and out of the camp.
Once one of the Ironman roof tents was unzipped and unfolded, I got dinner ready ready while enjoying the sunset. This was followed by a fire and some stargazing from one of the rocks that were still radiating the sun’s heat into the cooling evening. It was just about perfect. Not only do these rocks provide an incredible backdrop for a campsite, they have also borne witness to the history of man. On the underside of a big rock face were some ancient rock art of rhinos and stick figures painted by Bushmen several thousand years ago. The site is not fenced off so anyone could just walk up and touch them. One can only hope that every visitor respects and preserves the petroglyphs.
This is also where the Hilux experienced its only puncture of the trip caused by driving over an unseen rock in the sand that completely took out the sidewall. Following two nights here, my friend and I took an easy drive down to the coast and Swakopmund, the first real town we experienced since Maun, some 1000 km (621 mi) away.
The Kalahari Desert, Real Wilderness, and the End of a Journey
After turning back towards Johannesburg came the real desert – straight through the heart of the Kalahari. While heading south, the tarmac
didn’t last long after Walvis Bay. It was on to a dirt road that leads through a barren and featureless desert. At long last, it felt like a real expedition into the wilderness.
There’s a sweet speed for driving on dirt roads, and I found 120 km/h (75 mph) was perfect for the Hilux in these conditions, but it required absolute concentration to spot rocks, potholes, and deep dips that I remember virtually nothing about while driving approximately 650 km (about 400 mi) that day. All of my attention was on what was in front of me and concentrating so much left no impressions of anything else – apart from a great sense of achievement.
The next day, after spending a night in a bizarre village that consisted of half a dozen houses in the middle of the desert, the dusty driving continued. I refilled the Hilux in the little oasis of Solitaire (where it seems everyone in a 4x4 pulls over to stop), and then decided to test the Navmii GPS again. Instead of a series of 90 lefts and rights on big roads, I zoomed in and plotted a much more direct route south.
The shortcut we took consisted of 20 km (12 mi) of the side mirrors brushing against spiky trees and slewing through endless muddy puddles. It wasn’t the hardest trail and the Hilux didn’t get close to getting stuck, but it was so far from anywhere that my friend and I felt totally on our own.
And that was such a thrill. If anything had happened we would have perished from exposure and turned into desiccated husks long before anyone came by and found us.
That night we stopped at the Canon Roadhouse, which has tables nestled up next to a collection of classic cars. The nearby Fish River Canyon is also definitely worth a visit. The insane heat was like a furnace but worth it as the canyon is like a mini Grand Canyon with spectacular views. Millions of years of sedimentation and tectonic activity formed the convoluted bedrock, which erosion over the subsequent eons has carved out a serpentine channel that’s up to 500 m (1,640 ft) deep. With slightly fewer safety features than in the U.S. parks, there are no fences so you can off-road right up to the edge. If you dare.
Nearing the end of our journey, it was over the distinctly blue-hued Orange River back to South Africa when we saw a guy pulling a suitcase along the road as though he was in a departure lounge at an airport.
I’d just driven 30 km (19 mi) from the border without passing a single building so I couldn’t imagine where he was going. He
didn’t want a lift anywhere but gratefully accepted some water and a couple of cans of energy drinks. He then continued to walk off into the mirage – a strange and unexpected encounter.
So what was my favourite country of the three? I’d have to say South Africa. And one of my favourite places is the rocky desert around the Augrabies waterfall on the fringes on the Kalahari. The howling wind was so strong it blew up a sandstorm on the horizon and made the clouds race across the sky. I spent most of the evening with my shirt whipping against my back watching a play of light across the landscape. Parking the Hilux in the middle of it made for some good photos, too.
In my opinion, there was no more of a perfect place than Witsand, located right in the heart of the Kalahari. A little affordable luxury is always a great way to wind down and take a break from putting up the tent.
The 6,500 km (4,038 mi) adventure ended with a direct route through the centre of Johannesburg, which was a rather glaring contrast to the natural paradise I’d been for the last three weeks.