06 June 2007
Ok, ok… I’ve been getting fan/hate mail requesting the next installment so here it is.
My road trip started just like any other Namibian adventure: slow, mildly frustrating and then fun. Laura flew into Windhoek—the capital city which is about 3 ½ hours from Swakopmund. The plan was to rent a car from here, go pick her up and then let the road trip commence. However, none of the car rental agencies in Swakop would let us take their cars into Zambia so I had to rent one out of Windhoek. This meant catching a shuttle at 7am to get there in time to fill out the paperwork and meet Laura. They arrived 15 minutes early to pick me up and I almost forgot my passport. That would have been a gong show at the Zambian border. Luckily I remembered in time, and despite the scowl my driver didn’t drive off as I ran back inside to grab it.
I was a little late to Budget Car Rental, but still had enough time to get the car and head for the airport… until the lady forgot to place my booking when I confirmed. So I had to wait while she went through the entire process of reserving the car. Fortunately they just happened to have a Toyota Corolla on the lot. (Now, we’re not talking about a massive American rental lot here. This place only had about 10 cars sitting around.) After almost an hour, the paperwork was completed, several attempts were made to get the medieval card reader to accept my American Visa card and I was on the road a mere 30 minutes late.
I didn’t get to the airport for another half hour because some genius city planner decided to build it 30 miles out of town. Just to clarify: Windhoek is not a thriving metropolis like New York, Paris or London. There is not any reason why one should have to drive so far to catch a flight. But I arrived and picked up Laura not too behind schedule, nonetheless.
The feeling provoked by glimpsing a friendly face from home after 6 months away is tough to describe. With family and friends it always seems like you haven’t been apart very long, but there’s a part of you that knows it has been a while. It’s an interesting experience. But needless to say, I was happy to see her. After a short hello and loading baggage, we hit the road. I almost took her to KFC for her first African meal, but opted for a Russian and Chips (sausage and fries) from the service station when I couldn’t find the correct entrance to the parking lot and realized I didn’t have any cash on me anyway.
Our first leg of driving took us from Windhoek to the Otjibamba Lodge just outside Otjiwarongo. It wasn’t too far: 245 km I think. (Sorry, the distances will be in kilometers here because I haven’t converted them into miles.) Not much of that stretch is worth mentioning, except that we got to see the first wildlife of our adventure on the side of the road: warthog and baboon if I remember correctly. Baboons aren’t exactly scarce here so I was mostly interested in the warthogs. Laura described them as “cute”—which I would say is fairly accurate unless they run at you with their unfriendly-looking tusks. I wish we would have taken a picture of the various road signs that warn which game might be in the road ahead. There’s nothing like an upside-down yield triangle with a warthog silhouette to make you recall stories of them tusking vehicles.
Ok, ok… I’ve been getting fan/hate mail requesting the next installment so here it is.
My road trip started just like any other Namibian adventure: slow, mildly frustrating and then fun. Laura flew into Windhoek—the capital city which is about 3 ½ hours from Swakopmund. The plan was to rent a car from here, go pick her up and then let the road trip commence. However, none of the car rental agencies in Swakop would let us take their cars into Zambia so I had to rent one out of Windhoek. This meant catching a shuttle at 7am to get there in time to fill out the paperwork and meet Laura. They arrived 15 minutes early to pick me up and I almost forgot my passport. That would have been a gong show at the Zambian border. Luckily I remembered in time, and despite the scowl my driver didn’t drive off as I ran back inside to grab it.
I was a little late to Budget Car Rental, but still had enough time to get the car and head for the airport… until the lady forgot to place my booking when I confirmed. So I had to wait while she went through the entire process of reserving the car. Fortunately they just happened to have a Toyota Corolla on the lot. (Now, we’re not talking about a massive American rental lot here. This place only had about 10 cars sitting around.) After almost an hour, the paperwork was completed, several attempts were made to get the medieval card reader to accept my American Visa card and I was on the road a mere 30 minutes late.
I didn’t get to the airport for another half hour because some genius city planner decided to build it 30 miles out of town. Just to clarify: Windhoek is not a thriving metropolis like New York, Paris or London. There is not any reason why one should have to drive so far to catch a flight. But I arrived and picked up Laura not too behind schedule, nonetheless.
The feeling provoked by glimpsing a friendly face from home after 6 months away is tough to describe. With family and friends it always seems like you haven’t been apart very long, but there’s a part of you that knows it has been a while. It’s an interesting experience. But needless to say, I was happy to see her. After a short hello and loading baggage, we hit the road. I almost took her to KFC for her first African meal, but opted for a Russian and Chips (sausage and fries) from the service station when I couldn’t find the correct entrance to the parking lot and realized I didn’t have any cash on me anyway.
Our first leg of driving took us from Windhoek to the Otjibamba Lodge just outside Otjiwarongo. It wasn’t too far: 245 km I think. (Sorry, the distances will be in kilometers here because I haven’t converted them into miles.) Not much of that stretch is worth mentioning, except that we got to see the first wildlife of our adventure on the side of the road: warthog and baboon if I remember correctly. Baboons aren’t exactly scarce here so I was mostly interested in the warthogs. Laura described them as “cute”—which I would say is fairly accurate unless they run at you with their unfriendly-looking tusks. I wish we would have taken a picture of the various road signs that warn which game might be in the road ahead. There’s nothing like an upside-down yield triangle with a warthog silhouette to make you recall stories of them tusking vehicles.
The lodge itself made for a nice first stop. It stood on the edge of a private game farm stocked with all manner of animals: giraffe, ostrich, springbok, oryx, wildebeest, kudu, impala. We checked in, dropped our stuff in the room and went for a game drive at sundown. The scenery looked beautiful in the dusk, and there were plenty of animals out since the heat had subsided. However, once it started getting darker it lost a bit of charm. We couldn’t really take any good pictures in the light, and the flash almost coaxed a wildebeest into charging the car. I was kind of freaked out by that scene and promptly drove off. Not long after that, we both caught sight of our first ever giraffes. They were impressive even at a distance in the waning light. After that it started to really get dark so we headed back to the lodge. Along the way, I tried not to hit the various obstructions on/near the road like trees, shrubs, ostriches, etc.
Once back, Laura took a nap while we waited for dinner to start. She had been a trooper, only falling asleep once in the car after a forty-some hour itinerary between Boise and Windhoek. I think she was happy I woke her for dinner, though, once we were sat at a candlelit table and they served our delicious food. The meal was probably the best we had on the trip, or at least top 2. Add a bottle of wine and some catching up after half a year apart, and you’ve got the recipe for a great evening.
We called it a night right after dinner and both settled in for a good night’s sleep to prime us for the long road trip to come… until the car alarm started going off in the middle of the night. Laura was beyond getting up so I had to spend the next hour trying to figure out what or who was setting it off. First, I just did a quick check of the area to make sure all was well and went back to bed. But within minutes it went off again. So I did the same check, and then moved it out from under a tree in case stuff was falling on it. Once again I went back to bed, but had the same result. So this time I cracked the door and did some [very obvious] reconnaissance for about 15-20 minutes. Nothing happened and I got cold so I just went back to bed still puzzled and very annoyed. The rest of the night went without a hitch—assuming I didn’t sleep through any subsequent alarms—and we survived what was to become a recurring problem for the remainder of our travels.
Once back, Laura took a nap while we waited for dinner to start. She had been a trooper, only falling asleep once in the car after a forty-some hour itinerary between Boise and Windhoek. I think she was happy I woke her for dinner, though, once we were sat at a candlelit table and they served our delicious food. The meal was probably the best we had on the trip, or at least top 2. Add a bottle of wine and some catching up after half a year apart, and you’ve got the recipe for a great evening.
We called it a night right after dinner and both settled in for a good night’s sleep to prime us for the long road trip to come… until the car alarm started going off in the middle of the night. Laura was beyond getting up so I had to spend the next hour trying to figure out what or who was setting it off. First, I just did a quick check of the area to make sure all was well and went back to bed. But within minutes it went off again. So I did the same check, and then moved it out from under a tree in case stuff was falling on it. Once again I went back to bed, but had the same result. So this time I cracked the door and did some [very obvious] reconnaissance for about 15-20 minutes. Nothing happened and I got cold so I just went back to bed still puzzled and very annoyed. The rest of the night went without a hitch—assuming I didn’t sleep through any subsequent alarms—and we survived what was to become a recurring problem for the remainder of our travels.
The next morning we ate breakfast and decided to go out on another circle around the game farm. This time we had to search harder for the animals, but once we found them it was much more exciting. (Imagine that, looking at animals in the light is better than in the dark… hmmm.) We got really close to the giraffes this time. Standing with their hind legs crossed, knobby knees sticking out like a sore thumb and eating leaves like they couldn’t care less about you, they really are interesting animals to watch. We frightened some into moving, and I got a video of them sauntering away. They are so long and gangly that all their movements have a slow, somewhat graceful element.
An oryx also wandered across the road in front of us. I’ve never seen one very close, but they are a lot bigger than I had imagines. I can’t really describe it very well, but hopefully the blurry picture will do it justice. They are probably my favorite game animal, beautiful and majestic. Seeing one only 12 hours after I had eaten one of his cousins was a little surreal, but then I figured: I don’t think twice about looking at cows after a hamburger so what’s the difference?
After a group of springbok bounded along side us and across the road, we spotted our wildebeest friends. Luckily this time they were lounging in the shade a fair bit away and didn’t feel like renewing our standoff from the previous night. We did happen upon a male impala who didn’t like us photographing his female friends, though. Once he snorted a couple unfriendly sounds and started scraping his hooves, we decided to let them be. (Just to clarify, I haven’t been talking about the Chevrolet automobile when I say impala… it’s an actual animal. Don’t worry, I giggled when I saw the name in the guide book, too. I pictured a redneck game park with rusted out impalas scattered around with real game resting in their shade.)
The last thing we saw on the way out was ostrich. There were quite a few of them wandering around. Some of the females looked to be spinning around in circles for whatever reason. The males just ran away as we came closer. You get to see ostrich everywhere in the desert and semi-desert of Namibia so I don’t really get too excited about them too much. The only thought that makes me wish for them is remembering the game Joust from the old Atari video game system in which you ride flying ostriches and pounce on your fellow riders to steal eggs. It was always my favorite, and I’m convinced if I ever found one airborne I could hop on and conquer the rest even without the joystick.
With that fascinating anecdote, I will end this chapter of “The Road to Victoria Falls.” Looking back over this entry I’m beginning to realize this could take a while… but I hope to have it done by the time I come home in December.
To be continued…
After a group of springbok bounded along side us and across the road, we spotted our wildebeest friends. Luckily this time they were lounging in the shade a fair bit away and didn’t feel like renewing our standoff from the previous night. We did happen upon a male impala who didn’t like us photographing his female friends, though. Once he snorted a couple unfriendly sounds and started scraping his hooves, we decided to let them be. (Just to clarify, I haven’t been talking about the Chevrolet automobile when I say impala… it’s an actual animal. Don’t worry, I giggled when I saw the name in the guide book, too. I pictured a redneck game park with rusted out impalas scattered around with real game resting in their shade.)
The last thing we saw on the way out was ostrich. There were quite a few of them wandering around. Some of the females looked to be spinning around in circles for whatever reason. The males just ran away as we came closer. You get to see ostrich everywhere in the desert and semi-desert of Namibia so I don’t really get too excited about them too much. The only thought that makes me wish for them is remembering the game Joust from the old Atari video game system in which you ride flying ostriches and pounce on your fellow riders to steal eggs. It was always my favorite, and I’m convinced if I ever found one airborne I could hop on and conquer the rest even without the joystick.
With that fascinating anecdote, I will end this chapter of “The Road to Victoria Falls.” Looking back over this entry I’m beginning to realize this could take a while… but I hope to have it done by the time I come home in December.
To be continued…
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