Monday, January 24, 2011

Our Holiday in Namibia

Devil's claw
The long break between semesters arrived at last, and we left Gaborone in the wee hours of December 13th, with a plan to make it to Dqae Qare, a San community-owned game farm west of the Central Kalahari Game Reserve, before nightfall. There was a gentle rain falling so the colors were more vibrant that usual, not washed out by the intensity of the sun. For the most part the drive was uneventful: the road was good and traffic was sparse.  This is a long drive right across the heart of the Kalahari Desert -- but in the rain it was a lush and soft place.  There were some flowering devil's claw crawling through the sand on the side of the road. 

Our place at Dqae Qare
When we arrived at the gate for Dqae Qare, it was raining heavily and the 4-kilometer dirt road to access the farm had some very deep puddles.  Because puddles form on the road and not elsewhere, we worried that critters would be in the puddles when we drove through.  Dqae Qare is a "farm" wholly and communally owned by San people  (bushmen) and is one of few such places on the planet where one of the world's most oppressed ethnic groups has some say.  We got our cute little San hut to stay in when we arrived near the old farmhouse that had been nicely restored to serve as guest rooms.  Alas, it was off season and very wet and muddy, and the place really was shut down with an abandoned feel. Having a lot of rain in the Kalahari is unusual!  There was no electricity or water or even anyone around most of the time (that was kind of weird).

Ethnobotanical Plant Guides at DQAE QARE
We did have a very nice ethnobotany walk the next morning with three San (two women and a man who served mainly as a driver and interpreter) who showed all us sorts of plants that they use and told us how they used them.  We also visited the nearby San village of D'kar, which had an interesting art gallery, but was otherwise rather depressing.  Depressing because many of the facilities there are shut down or abandoned altogether and people seemed to be loitering about listlessly.  It is hard to describe, this sense of hopelessness we seemed to acquire when we were there. It seemed as if we were witnessing the very ending of the San culture, and it was a very sad ending, indeed.

We dined in the open-sided dining rondoval, sheltered from the rain, after cooking a meal on our tiny campstove. Wildbeest and warthogs strolled casually about in the fading light.  As darkness fell we heard the wildebeest trampling about and snortly wildly. In the morning there were two afterbirths on the lawn where young had been born during the night.  Shortly after daybreak we headed out, down the puddled road to the highway and west toward Windhoek, Nambia.

First we stopped in Ghanzi to gas up and discovered that the station was all out of fuel -- luckily the attendant told us about another gas station in town, which was brand new, and had one functioning pump.  After Ghanzi, all of the gas stations we passed in Botswana were out of gas.  Later on in Namibia, we purchased a gas can and always had 20 liters of fuel with us -- it did come in handy.

The sky cleared up as we moved westward and became blue and remained blue for the next 2 weeks or so (except at night). The border experience was the usual congested weirdness.  Although the road was empty, there were plenty of people in line.  We filled out various forms, one of which, if lost, costs $100 (thankfully a policeman told us this 2 weeks later so we found it and held on to it).  Instantly, Namibia had a different feel from Botswana.  As unlike as the US and Mexico.  Botswana is strongly dominated by one ethnic group -- the other groups live on the fringes of society.  Namibia is much more ethnically complex with many groups, including a large number of white Namibians of various descents.  Namibia was a German colony before WWI (although the influence is still palpable), and then 50 years later had a bloody long-lasting revolution during which they eventually wore down their South African occupiers.  Botswana had asked for British protection from Cecil Rhodes (none of the European powers wanted the place; times have changed!) and was handed its independence in 1966.  There is little remaining evidence of the Namibian revolution, although it is barely 20 years old (you might remember SWAPO and the fact that the Cubans helped them because the western powers would not help them shake off the South African yoke).

We drove through semiarid scrub for several hours and arrived at Windhoek, where we negotiated our way through the city and arrived just before dusk at Arrebusch Campground:  a sprawling place of restaurants, chalets, pools, and campsites swarming with South Africans.  It was a pleasant place to stay.  Like every urban facility it was ringed by a two-tier electric fence patrolled on foot 24-7.

Park in Downtown Windhoek, Namibia
The next day we got a ride into Windhoek.  From the beginning we liked this city.  You could say it is a thousand times nicer than Gaborone.  The downtown area actually had sidewalks and a pedestrian mall and cafes and restaurants and shops, and even parks, and was spotless.  Everybody was very nice.  We went to three different offices but finally obtained our park permits, involving the usual bureaucratic weirdness (in this respect Namibia is similar to Botswana) but it did not take too long.  We walked around checking out some of the handicrafts, a few older German buildings and Namibian monuments and, what not.  Then we went down to the Craft Market, which had all imaginable kinds of crafts and art.  Plus, a cafe that was the equal of the Moosewood in Ithaca-such a sublime pleasure to us!

Sweet campsite at Tsauchab River
The next morning, we left Windhoek behind and headed south down dirt and gravel roads through vast overgrazed semi-arid country.  Because of our many stops to look at birds and plants it can take us a long time to get anywhere.  That afternoon we arrived at one of the most unique places we have ever stayed -- Tsauchab River Camp.  The entrance road is lined with a fascinating array of found art -- all the junk that was found on the ranch when Johann and Nicky took it over has been converted into artistic creations. The old ranch house has been converted into a beautiful lodge with an outside bar and all kinds of art works and creations.  Nicky gave us a warm welcome and a choice of campsites. We chose "The Bulbul."  Our campsite was riverside (the Tsauchab is dry in this portion at this time of the year though) under a big fig tree.  The shower was inside the base of the multi-stemmed tree with a donkey boiler for hot water and the outhouse was on top of a hill with an absolutely grand view.  There was also a conventional bathroom and shower on another hill that was ours alone, if we wished to use it.  The donkey boiler was lit and at night someone comes and lights candles around the campsite.

 When Johann and Nicky purchased this 20,000 hectare ranch, they took the cattle off (therefore singlehandedly performing one of the greatest conservation acts that I am aware of in this region) and converted it into a rest camp.  With no grazing, the wildlife and vegetation have returned, many more people have been employed, and the government has saved piles of money in subsidies. Just like in the US, Namibian cattle ranching is highly subsidized in order to maintain the supply of cheap beef -- unfortunately the moniker of "grass fed/free range", a positive thing in the the US, means savage overgrazing in southern Africa.  

Quiver tree at Tsauchab River
There are amazing hikes on the 20,000 hectares and we immediately headed off to an area where the Tsauchab River flows from adjacent springs and upwelling.  This was a spot of vivid greenness against the tans and browns of the surrounding mountains.  The riparian zone had a tangled forest of huge fig trees and critters galore in and around the water.  This had all returned since the cessation of grazing.  We walked through the woods, admired baboons, birds, frogs and the dry mountains.  Then we headed over to the quiver tree hike.  This 4 km walk ascended a ridge and back down again passing by groves of several aloe species, most notably the grand quiver tree or kokerboom-an unusual tree aloe, which was beautiful against the late afternoon light.  Stands of Euphorbia, Adenia and scrubby trees gave an otherworldly aspect to the landscape.  That night at the lodge, Johann told us what it was like to own and manage a rest camp like this, being a German-Namibian, what he did during the revolution, and all sorts of other things. Johann has a talent of making every guest feel important and the sole recipient of his interest and concern. He admitted that, being the father of two young children, it is somewhat stressful worrying about the stability of this young country and its economy, but he is optimistic and full of energy. We hope he and Nicky continue to do well in all their admirable endeavors.

The next day we headed out on a day trip to Sossusvlei through gorgeous arid mountains.  This is Namibia's most popular tourist destination, and is one of the world's largest dune fields, where the Tsauchab River reaches it inland conclusion.(


Sossusvlei NP
Dead Vlei
View Larger Map) We entered the park, and then traveled a long way down a valley surrounded by towering massive red sand dunes.  Much of the landscape was sandy but there were also tall grasses and occasional trees.  Gemsbok and springbok somehow survive in this landscape -- these species have interesting water conservation adaptations so they rarely need to drink.  At the end of the paved road we switched to 4-wheel drive and drove out to the trailhead for Dead Vlei.  This hike took us out to a flat white soil pan where trees had thrived 800 years ago.  At that time the climate dried even more and the trees died leaving a stark and visually arresting scene of dead trees on white clay surrounded by red dunes.  Although the trees died more than 500 years ago, the wood is perfectly preserved.  The Namib Desert is the world's oldest desert having been dry for a long time. On the way out, we visited  Sesriem Canyon, a deep notch canyon through conglomerate, which we poked around in a bit but could have a spent an entire day exploring -- not enough time! At its beginning, you could step across the 50-foot deep canyon, but downstream it broadens to form the valley.

The Engen gas station in the small town next to the park entrance has a green roof of soil and vegetation, a solar-powered cafe, and lots of information about conservation and recycling of materials. These type of facilities are very rare in both Namibia and Botswana.

Living Stones
Can you see the Living Stones by the keys?
Later, back at Tsauchab River Camp we asked Johann to show us the rare "living stones" (Lithops) populations he had mentioned the night before.  He was busy at that moment and said "They are just over there-see how many you can find before I catch up with you!"  We searched and searched the area but could not find any of these little plants that blend in with rocks at the ground surface.  Eventually he came over and showed us a few, and then they jumped out at us visually.  The Lithops are monitored annually by the Namibian wildlife service.  We want to do a study of this plant (of course!).

The next day we reluctantly left this wonderful place because the trip had been planned weeks before with reservations made out of guidebooks before we knew how wonderful it was here -- we could easily have stayed a week. Our itinerary had us heading to the coast, and next commenced one of the more remarkable drives ever down the C14: a bumpy washboard dirt road of never ending remarkable scenery.  It started out along a gorgeous canyon with flowers and succulents and rocky towering mountains.  This transitioned to arid grassland.  The town of Solitaire (
View Larger Map) (really it is just a campground, bakery, mechanic, and gas station) is located on private land just before the last long stretch though the park heading toward the coast.  Surrounded by savanna, this is a strange biker-hangout and conglomeration of rusted old antique autos, camel-safari outfitter, bakery and favorite stopping point for HUGE South African caravans.  One stops because because there is a gas pump -- to fill up whether you think you need to or not!

The grassland slowly transitioned and became more jagged and arid and broke out into a rough rocky landscape of deep canyons, patterned hills stretching to the horizon, and all sorts of other bizarre landscapes.  Eventually it got so dry that from distant horizon to horizon not a plant was visible.  This is the second most arid place on the planet after the Atacama Desert west of the Andes in South America. As usual, it took us three times as long to move through as it would for most pokey drivers.
    
At one of our many stops, we noticed  a screw with its head buried in our rear tire.  Luckily, the tire did not seem to be losing air so we drove on.  When we got close to Walvis Bay, a coastal town just south of the popular tourist town of Swakopmund, we took another look and the tire was dangerously low.  We drove into the town of Walvis Bay (a shock after that vast dryness) and the first thing we saw was tire repair.  It was 4:40 but they were happy to repair the flat, balance our tires, and replace a few of our missing lug nuts, all  by 5:00 PM when they closed!

Walvis Bay is a pleasant town with a large port and a bird-rich bay on the south Atlantic.  After checking out the bay we drove over to Swakopmund and it was strange to see the "adrenalin sport" places catering to tourists.  Swakopmund was a major town during the German colonial period and is flavored by attractive historic German buildings.  Our campground  (Sophia Dale) was about 10 kilometers east of town and was packed with holiday campers, most of which were extended families from South Africa.  We were assigned a campsite in the middle of the campground and next to a large "compound" (a particularly South African institution-more later on this one), with several very large people who snored asynchronously very, very close to our tent.  Not good.  There were some other negatives as well (i.e. showers in the pitch dark, people constantly walking through our campsite), which led to sleepless nights, and haste in leaving the campground each morning.

Walvus Bay Salt Pans
Our first morning we went down to Swakopmund to a wonderful sidewalk cafe and then walked around town admiring bakeries, cafes, weird tourist outfits and those odd pre-WWI German buildings.  We then went down to Walvis Bay and out to the sea salt factory where there were large ponds of vivid magenta, pink and mauve.  Salt-loving bacteria make those hipped out colors.  The sandy sea spit went on for miles with huge flocks of sea birds including large flocks of shore birds and flamingos and ending on a wild beach with folks fishing in the giant waves.


Moon Landscape
The following morning we made our botanical pilgrimage to the land of the Welwitschia.  Just a few km from our campground, we re-entered the Namib-Naukluft Park and there was nary a building or plant in sight.  One of the driest places on earth.  Our first stop was in a vast lichen-dominated desert popularized by David Attenborough in the film "The Secret Life of Plants."   We poured water on these little dessicated gardens and watched them unfold in a splendor of bountiful wateriness (Priscilla has a video of this on her Facebook page).  Towards the north was the arid rugged landscape surrounding the Swakopmund "River" of jagged mountains known as the Moon Landscape.  There were a few junked South African tanks scattered about reminding us that the revolution was not so long ago.  Today much of the National Park in this area has been leased out to international mining corporations.

Jon and the Wild Welwitschia

Welwitschia on the Skeleton Coast
As we traveled on, we began to see gullies where a few plants were flowering due to a sprinkling of rain some weeks back.  Soon the first Welwitschia appeared and then more and more, and even more.  This plant is a dramatic offshoot from the plant kingdom and is unique in many aspects: it has only two leaves that grow for the entire life of the plant but these become shredded by the wind and appear as a tangle of dreadlocks.  The plant has very odd tissue and reproductive attributes and is actually a sort of stunted "tree."  Separate male and female plants bear cones on the top of  a very short trunk.  The plant absorbs water via dew through its leaves during the night.  The biggest are believed to be as much as 3000 years old.  A few specialized insects survive solely on Welwitschia.  The taxonomist argue endlessly, but at present it is thought to be the only species in its division, although it may share the distinction with Mormon tea (Ephedra.)

The desert landscape was studded with widely spaced Welwitschia.  After going through the valley of the Swakopmund (with some fantastic campsites (yes-we'll stay there next time-right), we eventually came upon the largest Welwitschia (surrounded by a fence) and some other huge ones here and there and adorning a landscape characterized by braided dry washes and rocky ridges.  The tangle of leaves sure doesn't look like there are only two.  We wandered around for a few hours, happily admiring all sorts of other captivating plants and some very hardy springbok and ostriches too.  The only mammal known to ever eat Welwitschia are very hungry rhinos.

Reluctantly, in late afternoon we cruised back to Swakopmund and had a pleasant dinner at an outside restaurant by the ocean with crowds of German and South African vacationers.  The world is an odd place with strange juxtapositions.

Salt Crystals for Sale
Our last night at Sophia Dale was the solstice with a full moon above, but we wished we had been hearing the crashing of waves rather than the sawing sounds of adjacent sleeping campers, so we left early the next day with dreams of a desolate park campground on the Skeleton Coast.  As we headed north, we caught our first real glimpse of the huge Swakopmund township where the poor live in metal shacks (yet another strange juxtaposition.)  In a few hours and after passing a town or two (with their own mini-townships) we came across lots of small roadside tables lined with pink and white halite crystal conglomerations.  People must search for the crystals, put them on a rickety table with a tin can (honor system), and prices (US equivalent of 50c to $1), and hope a passerby stops to make a purchase.


Cape Cross Seal Colony

Cape Fur Seal

Next up -- Cape Cross cape fur seal colony.  We drove down the dirt road, stopped at the information-free headquarters to pay, and headed to the shore to view the colony.  This is one of three colonies at which 75% of the world's population of Cape Fur seals breed.  From a distance the colony looked like a mass of black seals -- great!  But immediately upon pulling into the parking lot it became apparent that this is a place that immediately brings to mind Tennyson's "Nature red in tooth and claw", and is not a place for the faint of heart (which luckily, in terms of nature, we are not.)

It turns out that we had visited just a few weeks after the annual mass birthing. Over 70% of mature females come ashore during late November to give birth. They feed their young incredibly rich milk for a short time, but then must head to sea to feed in order to sustain their milk supply.  The young are often clumped together in a "nursery" and the mothers locate their young upon return by their unique bellows.

Even before we got out of the car, we could see the bodies of baby seals, some lying in a pool of blood, that had been scattered about by jackals and hyenas.  It was fragrant and noisy from the calls of thousands of babies and adults.  There were baby seals on the boardwalk that leads to a viewing area and drifts of baby seals piled up around the boardwalk and throughout a picnic shelter.  Many were dead (walk carefully so as not to step on one), some seemed hungry and bleated at us hopefully, and others were approaching death, looking toward us with large moist encrusted, infected and seemingly blind eyes and calling plaintively.  These were not the few babies that get snagged by hyenas and jackals, but piles of babies separated from their mothers (each of whom have only one pup).  Down towards the ocean there were crowds of babies and plenty of mother seals and scattered bulls.  They say mortality is high and I guess it is.  We presume in a few weeks the scene would be very different, with the babies practicing their swimming and all traces of dead babies removed by scavengers.  Because the pups had been born perhaps just a week or two prior to our visit, the males were chasing the females around and mating during our visit.  The females will store the sperm for 3 months, and then after a 9-month gestation period, give birth again at the same time next year.

Cape Cross is also the site of a memorial to the Portuguese sailor Diego Cao who was first European to set foot in Namibia.  The cold Benguela current offshore is nutrient rich and still seems to provide plenty of fish for fishermen and seal alike. But how long can this last in a protein-greedy world?

 


Entering the Skeleton Coast
Back on the road we investigated a nearby super-lichen desert.  This one was solid lichen as far as the eye could see.  There were signs discouraging off-road travel because damage to these lichen fields takes scores of years to erase since the lichens grow in terms of millimeters per year. We headed north through spectacular desert landscapes and by late morning came to the entrance to Skeleton Coast National Park marked by two huge skulls on the gate.  The ranger was perplexed by the paperwork because our permits were purchased in Windhoek (do these people talk with each other at all?),  but we managed to get in and headed to Torra Bay campground, looking forward to a nice, sane, National Park campground.  It is more than 100 km on washboard gravel roads  from the entrance of the park to Torra Bay, so we checked out some desert inlets and bays with birds on the way.  Finally we topped a hill and rounded the bend to see what appeared to be a refuge camp for the rich.  The campground consisted of a densely packed conglomeration of large trucks and trailers nestled by huge canvas tents and canopies forming compounds surrounded by roll-out fabric walls.  Individual campsites consisted solely of side-by-side squares of sand delineated by cobbles that had been painted white.  We were instructed to choose any empty square. Almost all of the other campers were groups of South African fishermen and families who don't mess around: they come up here to fish on the beach for a month or more and bring up a "compound" with them.   We claimed a space and were a magnet for a few other small-scale tenters like us who showed up the next day.  The bathrooms were crude and smelly pit toilets, and the showers were locked except for a few hours a day. There were no other facilities besides a store, so no place to change clothes or whatever since most folks had a 3-bedroom size compound to cavort around in.  Many had their own portable toilets, propane refrigerators and almost everyone had a generator. Luckily generators had to be turned off by 10PM. After setting up our tiny tent,  we took off and visited some oases with flamingos and herds of gemsbok -- intense greenness in a landscape of tans.  Back at the campsite it was very windy.  A gentleman came by to talk with us and gave us a huge fresh fish,which we managed to clean with a pocketknife and cook on our tiny campstove.
Fishing on the Skeleton Coast
Campground at Torra Bay


Hiking the Skeleton Coast
Christmas Eve Sunset on the Skeleton Coast




The next day (Christmas eve) we explored the desert.  We started on a trail that starts at an oasis and goes by the remnants of the encampments of nomadic peoples whom lived here 800 years ago.  Nearby there was a large herd of gemsbok with a couple of young.  We then headed away from the trail out across the open desert, in which there is so much more variation than is apparent when looking across the landscape.  We set our sights on a distant dunefield, passing more lush oases, pebble fields with rocks of every hue, type and description, odd sclerophyllous desert plants, and wind sculpted sand waves that looked like meringue. Eventually we reached the dunefield, which was much further away than it looked, but reason set in when we thought about climbing it.  We returned the way we came (well, sort of) and headed back to the campsite but first explored a couple of deltas where people were still fishing in the surf. We also checked out some strange rock formations near our campsite and watched the sun set on the ocean.  Just after nightfall, a raucous truck full of shouting people, one of whom was dressed like Santa, drove honking around the campground.

We woke on Christmas morning and headed eastward.  There were scattered Welwitschia and succulent euphorbs on the hillsides.  At the park exit, Jon drove a park ranger out to the borehole while Priscilla waited at the station so that the ranger could turn on the pump.  They have no working transportation.

The landscape gradually transitioned to lush savanna.  We saw several several gemsbok trapped in narrow corridors between a doubled veterinary fence designed to separate wildlife to the north from the cattle ranches to the south due to concerns about hoof-and-mouth disease. These corridors go on for miles and miles with no way out.

Rock Paintings at Twyfelfontein
Visitor Center at Twyfelfontein
This area east of this portion of the Skeleton Coast is called Damaraland and is a land of massive piles of rock, canyons and mountains reminiscent of Cochise Stronghold in Arizona, but also is a land of severe overgrazing.  The cattle and goats have eaten everything down to the nubs.  We passed a number of ragged looking villages.  We stopped at Twyfelfontein, Namibia's sole UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most extensive rock art galleries on the planet.  The art was engraved into the rock by San peoples 6000 years ago during a time when the landscape was moister and richer in wildlife.  The site has a unique visitors' center built using local rock and recycled metal barrels creating an excellent effect.  A guide is mandated so we got one who turned out to be the world's worst guide (REALLY!).  She groaned and huffed and puffed as we walked down the trail and we were afraid she might topple over at any minute.  Not into chit-chat at all.  Her response to everything we said was "Okay."  We arrived at a site with rock art all over the rocks and she delivered an unintelligible monologue in a deadpan voice that sounded like a very bad recording.  There were all your favorite mammals, tracks, and other features engraved into the rocks.  It was really cool.  After each monologue the guide left and we looked --and then we caught up with her and she delivered another deadpan unintelligible monlogue.  This was not her day (if any day is).  Anyway, we looked at a lot of great rock art!

We left and drove on through a dramatic desert landscape of mountains made out of big piled up boulders -- later (by accident) we chose the road less traveled on.  The road grew bumpier and narrower and brushier and fainter (although the rock formations were cooler and cooler), and then the road appeared to cross a big wide sandy wash, where someone had obviously been stuck recently.  Could we make it across in our 4 wheel drive or not?  We got our to examine conditions on foot and saw all kinds of nice elephant tracks and dung and planned our strategy.  And we are here now, so it looks like we made it!  After another hour or so and some more confusing turns on minor dirt roads, we arrived at the Brandberg White Lady Lodge and Campground.  This lodge has a swimming pool, a restaurant, a garden, and outdoor bar, and even a waterfall backed up by bouldery hills, and campers are allowed to use all of the facilities.   The campsites were nicely isolated but everything was severely overgrazed and the risk of being "donkeyed" ever present.  If the donkeys can't get to your food they will lick your camp table, and then there are the goats.

Tsisab Ravine

Rock Paintings in Tsisab Ravine
There were also plenty of elephant footprints here.  Brandberg is Namibia tallest mountain and in Tsisab Ravine is a site of painted San art with the famous "white lady" and of course the requisite alien-like looking characters and animals.  The white lady painting is believed to be a San boy covered in white clay (too bad the name stuck).  The next day we went over to the canyon and told the guides we really couldn't have a guide because it would take us all day to walk up to the art site due to our interest in birds and flowers.  They were pleasant and said it was okay as long as we paid the entrance fee.  As we ambled along marveling at the beauty of the canyon, we were, indeed, passed by rapidly moving tourists rushing up to art and then rushing down to get back to their gin and tonics at the lodge.  The birding and canyons were too good for us to rush though-so we spent most of the day there.  As it turned out some of these guides were nice and excellent birders. We had a good talk about the birdlife with one of the guides at the end of our walk-he wanted to know all of the birds we saw and studied our bird book asking us how to distinguish some of the similar looking species -- we wished that we could have given him a pair of binoculars -- his employer will not, and of course, he cannot afford to buy them with the salary he receives.  After our hike, we returned to the lodge and enjoyed the amenities, especially a pet suricate that snuggled up by our feet and napped while we were sitting near the pool.

It took is two days to get to Etosha from there -- we stopped in Outjo at a lodge that had a sweet, very cute little campground with an EXCELLENT shower.  The owners were a bit too tipsy though (be careful when you run a bar), but told us some interesting stories about being white Namibians and the economic stranglehold that South Africa supposedly has on the country.  The lodge had a beautiful patch of woods and hiking trail leading up a rocky hill with an amazing view and lots of birds. 

Young black-faced impala at Etosha
The next day we headed to Etosha, one of Africa's premier parks. Etosha National Park encompasses 22, 935 square kilometers in the northern portion of the country.  The vast Etosha Pan occupies much of the eastern portion of the Park, and the Park's three campgrounds are located near the western, central and eastern portions of the Pan. 


Lovely young cat at Etosha
After registering in the information free-headquarters, we headed to our campground at Halali --a tad raggedy but overall pretty good.  Unfortunately the park has absolutely no information and a visitor cannot find out anything about wildlife, conservation or anything else.  There are a few overpriced booklets in the gift shop that are pretty dated, but we bought a guide to the waterholes just to be able to figure out where to go and it fell complete apart on our second day.  This is a phenomenal missed environmental education opportunity.  How will Namibia maintain domestic support for its parks without some sort of education?  If you are planning a trip to Etosha, please do some internet research and buy some books before you go!

Flap-necked Chameleon
Blue Crane and Kori Bustard
Lion Munching on Fresh Hardebeest
We arrived at Etosha at just about the time the rains began in earnest. Things were just beginning to green up on the east end of the park, and the roads were puddled.  We drove around for three days checking out all that wildlife: lions, leopards, giraffes, and vast herds of hundreds upon hundreds of zebra, springbok, gemsbok, steenbok and birds beyond count.  There were also an endemic subspecies of impala (black-faced.) The impala had lots of babies, the springbok started birthing while we were there, and the baby zebras are beyond cute.  The jackal pups were born about 4-6 weeks prior to our visit and are timed so that they will be old enough to hunt baby antelope when they are born.  Because it was wet, the wildlife was not focused around the waterholes, which is apparently a problem for the frenetic who traveled far and were desperately looking for large predators, but not for us because we don't mind more subtle wildlife!  The campground had a family of honey badgers: possibly Africa's fiercest mammal.  The first morning we woke up to all kinds of banging and we looked out and saw a honey badger standing on hind legs and  hoisting up a  table in the neighboring South African compound in order to tip it over as it contained a large collection of food that had sat out all night.  The wine bottles and pots and pans crashed off the table.  A guy emerged from one of the large vehicles and we shouted "look out -- honey badger".  He understood and just shouted at it to go away and it did.  Each night the frisky fellows would loot various campsites at will.  The campgrounds and accompanying chalets, and lodge and restaurants and pool are surrounded by an electric fences but the honey badgers are inside.  All three of the campgrounds have adjacent floodlit waterholes with view points within the safety of the fencing. By our last evening (New Year's Eve), we felt content to leave the park and begin 2011 elsewhere. We rose before dawn, packed up the tent, chairs and table, and were ready to leave as the gate was unlocked at official sunrise.  Even on the way out we saw hyena, giraffes, zebra beyond count and more.

Buying Monkey Oranges in Kavango
It poured as we headed northeast toward Caprivi Strip on these amazing Namibian highways.  In Grootfontein we stopped at a grocery store with some very hungry boys out front and too much upscale food inside.  This area has huge mines of lead and other metals, which might have caused the large number of misshapen people we saw.  We bought a few groceries for the kids and stocked up on camping supplies.  As we headed up the highway the world transitioned.  Cement block houses disappeared, and mud rondavals clustered into compounds surrounded by piled up thorn bushes became the norm. Many of the people living in this area are Angolan refugees.  This is Africa across a wide swath of the continent.  South of here cattle is raised on huge ranches and beef is sold internationally, and in this area it is not because it is north of the veterinary fences.  It is also a much poorer and more densely populated part of the country.  We stopped to buy some monkey orange and an unknown fruit and the folks were very sweet and seemed delighted that we stopped.

Eventually we reached our next destination -- Ngepi Camp on the Okavango River after a very puddly dirt road.  When you enter the place you know you are some place different.  The signs are very clever and the toilets -- wow the toilets!  They look out over the river and look like thrones, or they are deep in dense tropical vegetation, and on and on: one is in a elevated lookout and is called "Poopa Falls", a takeoff on the nearby waterfall called Popa Falls.  The showers are just as creative.  There is a nice little open air bar and food is served on a platform over the river.   They also have signs explaining why they don't serve beef or fish (they serve kudu and eland) -- due to the environmental consequences.  There is a caged swimming pool in the river so that you can swim without thinking about crocodiles the whole time and the campsites are right on the edge of the river also. We settled in and enjoyed the view and the grunting hippos.  The dropoff to the water is supposed to be too steep for hippos and crocs.

Our Ngepi Campsite

Ngepi Swimming Pool

The Toilet of Eden

Christopher and Jon on Our Birdwalk





















The next day we took a Makoro ride with our all-time favorite guide Christopher.  Christopher is a self-taught phenomenal birder and has worked with some leading birders from numerous countries.  Usually guides like this cost hundreds of dollars per trip at upscale lodges.  But he is local and isn't going anywhere, so he is happy to have a job at Ngepi and is an excellent asset to the Lodge.  A makoro is a little boat called a pirogue elsewhere, and is much like a shallow kayak carved of wood.  He was philosophical about hippos -- sometimes planes crash and sometimes a hippo is under your makoro.  Of course the ride was beautiful on this bountiful river.  The next morning we took an early bird walk with Christopher and saw dozens of new species in the fields around the Camp.  That afternoon it cleared so we went on a game drive to the Mahango National Park with Christopher and some rather odd people who were staying in the chalets.  Just cruising in an open air vehicle through mopane woodland is nice. 

Sable Antelope
Down by the river we saw herds of antelope including the beautiful and rare Sable antelope, wattled cranes, crocs, mother vervet monkeys with new babies, and hippos out of the water.   Plus, some nice baobabs.   The following day we drove around the Bwabwati NP (formerly Caprivi Game Reserve), which lies just across the river from Ngepi Camp.  At this point, the Okavango River is just beginning to widen into what will eventually become the Okavango Delta in Botswana.  The next morning we packed up and headed south back into Botswana.  The border crossing was smooth and we cruised through a remarkably lush but severely overgrazed Kalahari Desert toward the mouth of the delta.


We arrived in the sprawling tourist mecca of Maun by noon and had lunch.  The place may be safari central, but the town is not so appealing to us as there has been rapid growth over the last two decades and everything seems to be located in a strip mall.  After lunch we headed east toward Nxai Pan and Makgadikgadi Pans National Parks, and Planet Baobab.
Planet Boabab at Sunset
 We were on the long trek home so we didn't explore the parks but Planet Boabab turned out to be another amazing place to stay.  There were gorgeous little accommodations and campsites scattered amongst a grove of absolutely massive baobab trees -- yes they are 40 feet in diameter!  The bathrooms were works of art as was the dining area, kitchen and bar.  Designed by a genius with a sense of style and humor.  We want to go back to this place.  We wandered amongst the baobabs (yes there are hammocks) and had a excellent vegetarian dinner, and a breakfast of yogurt and fresh fruit before the last leg of our trip.
Breakfast at Planet Baobab: "Hi Mom!"

We drove down the crazy death-defying A-1, this time with wall-to-wall beer vendors presumably selling the last of their products due to President Khama's new ban on the selling of homebrews and a significant increase of tax on alcohol in an effort to slow the growing epidemic of alcoholism in this country.  Back in Gaborone, the city looked so green from all the recent rain and there were plenty of funky, molding dirty clothes to wash and try to dry on the line between rain showers.

We were eager to catch up with family and friends near and afar and meet a new neighbor Phoebe who had just arrived in our absence  from Colorado College with 23 students in tow from colleges across the Midwest.  And of course there was the semester to prepare for at the University of Botswana.  So it has taken us some weeks to put together this post, and it is still only just the briefest overview of all we saw, felt and learned. We hope it is a fun tale for those of you who have the interest and time for these things.  By now, of course, there is more to tell! Take care and stay warm; we miss you!

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Recent Ramblings: To Cape Town and Back Again

Though lengthy, this post is a bit more hurried than we'd like as we are scrambling like maniacs to catch up on things and get ready for our next and biggest (longest) trip over the break between semesters. (Poor us, eh!?) We took advantage of the time lull between the execution of UB final exams and the completion of the arduous process of soliciting approval for and submitting final grades by heading out of town. We've just returned from a 2-week camping trip, travelling in our new rig from Gaborone to Cape Town, South Africa and back whilst (!) stopping at as many places along the way as we could manage.

In a nutshell, the trip was like entering the world of fractals. The further along the path you go, the more you realize there is to see, and myriads of alternative paths unfold before your eyes. Our world is always like that, but it is easy to forget this as we settle into our tiny corner of existence. Travelling allows us to remind ourselves that there is great abundance of some kind, anywhere we look.

Red Hardebeest with calf at Mokala National Park
Our first stop was at Mokala National Park just south of the City of Kimberly in the Northern Cape State of South Africa.  Mokala is one of South Africa's newer parks, being composed of retired ranches in 2007 and interestingly, replacing Vaalbos National Park, which was "deproclaimed" due to diamond prospecting rights. Mokala is the Setwana name for camelthorn (Acacia erioloba), kameel being the Afrikaans name for giraffe. Our campsite was one of only five located within view of a waterhole visited by wildbeest, impala, rhebock, and lots of birds.  We spent a lazy day touring the 70 km of dirt road, admiring the abundance of antelope, warthogs, and sociable weaver nests scattered throughout the park, and added a number of new birds to our knowledge base.  It must have just been the calving season because very single red hardebeest we saw had a nearly newborn calf nearby.  Most of the parks in South Africa mandate that you remain in your car at all times except at designated view points and picnic spots, etc., and  unfortunately Mokalo has very few of these.  There is a friendly staff and a lodge where you can buy a cold beverage, but the feel is extremely formal and the view from the lodge is of the manicured lawns surrounding the upscale rental chalets with warthogs happily munching on the turfgrass.  Amusing, but not exactly our favorite type of scenery (well, except for the warthogs.)  So by the second morning, we were ready to move on in search of more unruly landscapes, and we were up at dawn for the day's journey to Karoo National Park.

Caracal as seen on our night drive
(okay-I took this photo in the museum) :)
We had chosen Karoo as a stopping point both because of its location midway between Mokala and Cape Town, and because it offers hiking trails and we wanted to stretch our legs and explore the landscape on our own after so much mandatory time in the car.  Karoo National Park encompasses both rolling plains and eroded mesas of sand and mudstone that were once part of a vast and ancient seabed and are rich sources of the fossils of primitive reptiles and amphibians.  The Karoo is the largerst ecosystem in South Africa and this vast, harsh landscape is typified by an extremely diverse assemblage of diminutive shrubs, forbs, and grasses, reminding us very much of the great Mohave desert of  the southwestern U.S.  In the Nama Karoo Biome, where the Park is located, plants have tiny leaves often reduced to barely visible scales, but to the eastern and southern reaches of this ecosystem were there is slightly more moisture from fog and more regular rainfall, succulent plants dominate. When the rains are good, vast eruptions of color burst from the deceptively simple-looking landscape.

Jon and leopard tortoise
 at Karoo NP campground
Jan Daniel and a southern rock agama
Despite our hopes for hiking, we arrived to the news that the Park had just reintroduced (ten days prior to our arrival) eight lions (2M, 2F, and 4 cubs), and the trails were closed to ensure the safely of all park visitors. The Park still offers three two-hour, ranger-led hikes per day in the foothills near the Park reception.  We signed up for two of these: a late morning and dawn hike, and were pleased by the knowledge and enthusiasm of Jan Daniel, our gun-toting guide and protector on these saunters.  We learned a lot about the diversity of the landscape and the many uses the early utilizers of this landscape found the plants offer. We also went on a nightdrive and were lucky to see a caracal with a fresh kill, a porcupine with its peppered spines bristling across the low shrubs, an ardwolf loping quickly away from a termite mound due to our approaching vehicle, several especially gorgeous black-backed jackals curled and waiting for action here and there, and the briefest glimpse of the banded tail of a small-spotted genet, an agile cat-like predator of birds and small mammals.  We also spent an entire day driving and admiring the vast mesa tops through which lions now again roam.

Rich in rainbows at Karoo National Park
The campground facility is very nice with a communal kitchen complete with stoves and sinks, and an amazing bath house, and huge leopard tortoises roam freely throughout the area, making inspections of the underside of the car necessary before moving.  Because the lions were reintroduced, the park installed electric "predator-proof" fencing around the entire 170-kilometer perimeter.  In addition, all public facilities within the park (lodges, chalets, pool, housing, campground, visitor's center and museum) are encircled by predator-proof electric fencing.  There is much to say about fencing in Africa, not the least of which is the issue of collateral damage, but I will have to defer that discussion to a future post.  Much of this work was still under completion while we were there so the bird blind was not open for public use.  We were told that the lions were doing well, having been fed only on the first day after their release and making their own kills since that time.

After our third night at Karoo, we loaded up the car for the last leg of the trip to Cape Town on the N-1, which was one of the most stunning car trips I have ever experienced. We gassed up in the small town of Laingsburg, where we were surprised to stumble across the Laingsburg Flood Museum, which documents the 1981 flood that,with little forewarning, drowned over 100 people and wiped out much of the town.  The museum contains many interested photographs and the windows are creatively decorated with items deposited by the river as the floodwaters withdrew.  As we neared the more populated regions of the western cape, the N-1 entered a region of multiple rugged mountain passes, with fertile river valleys with wineries, fruit and olive plantations winding through jagged layers of mountain peaks sporting succulent karoo vegetation on their lower slopes. We were catching tantalizing little glimpses of amazing plants like butter tree (Tyledodon paniculatus), but unfortunately there were few safe places to pull over and admire the scenery and we were forced to move through rather quickly.
Two of my favorite things:
Jon and buttertree in the succulent Karoo



Laingsburg Flood
 Museum window

Before we knew what was happening, we were coming into town and had to focus all our efforts onto navigating traffic correctly through the City and along the Port, down to the Cape Peninsula and along hair-raising and wildly-curving coastal roads with stunning views of the ocean below and amazing protea-studded, steep hillslopes above, while dodging bicyclists and other shiny, happy people (pedestrians and runners) through Malibu-Beach-like communities along the way. We finally arrived safely at the Imhoff Caravan Park near the small town of Kommetjie on the western peninsula where we had been able to secure a reservation for a tent space.  The Caravan Park was nice enough with lots of open campsites, and within a short walk to the beach and just north of the southernmost Unit of Table Mountain National Park.
The Road to Cape Peninsula

We decided to spend just one day in the City of Cape Town, reserving the rest of our time for reveling in the natural beauty surrounding us.  We drove to the nearby town of Fishhoek on the eastern side of the Cape Peninsula, and after seeking and finding what seemed to be a safe place to park, we headed to the train station to buy a ticket.  The ticket office was packed with shoving people eager to board the train, and when we asked when the train was leaving we were told "Now!", so we quickly hopped into the first car we came upon and then proceeded to wait approximately 20-25 minutes as more, more, and even MORE people were crammed into the car. We were standing near the doors where I could easily reach a pole to hold onto, and so many people were crammed into this open area that at one point I had to turn my baseball cap around backward to save space. There was not a private armpit, hip or thigh in that compartment by the time the train began to move on  its one-hour journey into the heart of the City. Shortly after our launch, we noticed warm guitar notes and a deep voice issuing gospel tunes from a region of the car that we couldn't see. I asked the fellow next to me and he confirmed that someone was indeed playing guitar in the car but he could not explain how there was room enough for that.  Many people in the car formed a chorus for well-known songs such as "Amazing Grace."  As the car slowly emptied out somewhat as we paused at stations closer to the City Center, we could see the musician, who was blind and sold the last of his supply of CDs before we could reach him.  Suddenly we were there and dumped out of the train, still dazed by the intensity of the experience.

View of Cape Town from Table Mountain
It is impossible to describe all the sights, sounds, opportunities and contrasts of Cape Town in a reasonable amount of time. Suffice it to say that we wandered about admiring the markets, restaurants, architecture, sounds (many languages), smells, and all kinds of dramas.  We were able to drop in at an Internet Cafe (translation: used bookstore with one computer for use for a fee) and check messages, and Jon was able to respond to a couple of recommendation requests, which are a constant, short-turnaround responsibility in his career life. We ate a nice Indian meal with a fabulous view of the street-life below. And we we still had time to catch a taxi to the Aerial Cable Car (Diana: you should have been there!) for a lift to the top of Table Mountain and its stunning views of the City and surrounding shorelines, islands, and oceans.  We left Table Mountain before we wanted to as we had to find a taxi back to the train station, catch the train back to Fishhoek, find our car which was thankfully intact, and drive back to the caravan park before dark.

African penguins at Boulder Beach:
don't they look like statues?
We spent all of the next day on the Cape Peninsula, much of which is encompassed within Table Mountain National Park.  First we stopped at Boulder Beach to look at some seabirds and visited an African penguin colony managed by the National Park.  This was a delighful experience. The park has erected a raised boardwalk above the dunes that the penguins occupy so that they can be viewed with minimal disturbance. It was amazing to watch these creatures waddle about and very hard to control the number of photographs we took!

Overlook at the Cape of Good Hope
Within the southern reach of the park, we took a gorgeous stroll to a precipitous overlook on the Cape of Good Hope near the southern tip of the Peninsula, explored some limpet-filled Atlantic tidepools, and admired coastal ostrich and lovely herds of an antelope called Bontebok, which, until recently, was on the brink of extinction but is currently rebounding throughout the region.  The Cape of Good Hope is that rocky point we all learned about in elementary history where ships rounded the continent and began to sail more eastward than south and where Portuguese explorer Bartolomeu Dias established the a direct trading route with the far east way back in 1488. Contrary to intuition, however, it is not the southernmost point of the continent.

After leaving the Cape the following morning, we traveled west along the southern coast through the expansive suburbs radiating out from Cape Town. Perhaps the poignant of the sights is passing through Cape Flats, one of the largest Townships in the region and the forth largest in South Africa with well over a million people living there. For those who don't know, Townships are the living areas designated for non-whites under the Apartheid era. They are still inhabited today and exist outside every town we passed through, though they vary in terms of overall size and the type of structures present and the amount of space each shelter (home) occupies.  Many of the homes in Cape Flats, as is true of many of the Townships near Urban Centers, are mostly constructed of a patchwork of salvaged corrugated tin strips fastened together in various ways.  The roofs, also constructed of tin slabs, are often held down with old tires, bricks, or boulders. The structures are usually located too close together for any kind of privacy and many lack plumbing and any other kind of sanitary services or facilities.  In other neighborhoods within this Township, homes are purportedly more typical suburban-style stucco houses.  Although many visitors take tours of the Townships during the day, they are purportedly too dangerous to visit at night.  It is hard to overlook the reality that the lives of the people in the Townships support the lifestyles of those who live elsewhere.  Every time we stopped at a gas station or store I wondered where the person serving us lived and how they managed in life. In our travels, we never met an impolite or unkind person, and many people seemed incredibly happy and cheerful in their work, often to the point of exuberance.

Young penguins at Betty's Bay
Betty's Bay penguin colony
Once we left the City and suburbs behind, we began stopping here and there again to explore.  We came to Betty's Bay, where we viewed another huge penguin colony of over 8,000. This is the most successful land-based breeding colony due to the steady food supply and relative lack of disturbance. Nesting season is mostly over by now and many of these birds were actively molting, which means they are stuck on land and can't swim or fish. We noticed three late downy young near the entrance of the burrow, however.  As we were leaving, we spotted a couple of fisherman on a rocky outcrop casting their lines within the preserve.  Jon stopped at the preserve HQ to ask why the fisherman can fish so close to the colony with all the abundance of alternative locations nearby. He was told that the preserve is trying to ban fishing but has been unsuccessful thus far.  The representative there also explained that many of the young penguins that hatch late die of starvation because their parents cannot feed them, but the preserve removes most of the latecomers to a brood facility and re-releases them once the moulting season is over in order to boost the colony just a bit more.

Another town we stopped in (Hermanus) down the coast a bit is a famous whale-viewing location for southern right whales complete with an official "Whale-Crier" who wanders about blowing his horn and announcing the latest sightings.  The southern right whales are abundant in the sheltered bay during the winter but most of the whales have moved on this time of year so we didn't see any, but did have a very nice walk along the coast.
 
Shipwreck near the southern tip of Africa
We decided to head for and spend the night in the Town of Agulhas because it is located near the southern-most tip of the African continent where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans converge.  On a whim we decided to leave the paved road for a gravel road on route to Agulhas, and were delighted to hop out of the car and explore a protea-studded hillslope of Fynbos vegetation.  Fynbos occurs in a narrow band along the southern reaches of the continent where is is bathed in coastal fog.  There are three major plant forms in this community: heaths, Cape reeds, and proteas.  Although Fynbos occupies only about 6 % of the land in southern Africa, it includes about half of the plant species in this portion of the continent and approximately 80% of the species occur nowhere else.  After exploring this hillslope we continued on our journey across the farmlands and topped one hillslope to arrive in a Village that made us think we were back in the Czech Republic!  Indeed, we later discovered that Elim was settled as a Moravian Mission in 1824.  At present this municipality is sill owned and managed by the Moravian Church of south Africa and many Khoi, a indigenous cape population, remain there today.   Thatching is the Town's greatest trade and it is world renowned for these master craftsmen. The town also contains a mill that still uses South Africa's largest water wheel.

Indian Ocean encounters the Atlantic Ocean
at the southern tip of Africa
Kassiebaai
Sunset at the southern tip
Coffee in the lighthouse cafe
In late afternoon we arrived at Cape Agulhas and were able to rent a small cottage with a view of the Indian Ocean and the Agulas lighthouse, and just a short walk to the southernmost tip of the continent for the sunset.  In the morning, after a cappicino in the lighthouse restaurant, we headed out for one of the final parks on our destination-De Hoop Nature Reserve.  Not too far east of Cape Agulhas, we took a slight detour to take in the Village of Arniston and the centuries-old fisherman's cottages of Kassiebaai, with unspeakably beautiful turquoise waters, sparkling white sands and white-washed, thatch-roofed cottages overlooking the sea.  This entire community is a designated national monument.  On the outskirts of this community too was the ever-present township, but the air is fresh and clean here and the homes more widely-spaced, and we saw dozens of children playing together and eating honeycomb while they giggled at us as we passed through.

De Hoop Nature Reserve Dunes
The De Hoop Nature Reserve is about 34,000 hectares and encompasses shoreline next to the adjacent De Hoop Marine Protected Area which extends five nautical km out to sea.  It is managed by CapeNature, a public institution with statutory responsibility for biodiversity in the Western Cape. The campground is located at the top of a huge "vlei" (shallow seasonal or intemittent lake) that is located in a gorge and blocked from the sea by natural coastal dunes.  The lake is often filled with huge flocks of wetland birds including greater flamingo and great white pelicans, to name just a couple.  The fynbos of this area is specialized due to the coastal location and limestone soils and supports an amazing number of endemic species.  We saw both puff adders and Cape cobras as we were driving a loop in the park, so we were a bit more timid about trapsing through the Fynbos than we might have been otherwise. We saw some new birds here and we excited to see two hammerkop nests: great big messy globs of sticks and flotsam with a sneaky side entrance.  The campground facilities include a communal kitchen complete with stoves, pots, pans, utensils, a refrigerator and a freezer, which was raided by baboons one day during our visit. Luckily we hadn't placed any food in the facility.  Much of our time there was windy and on the last day it began to sprinkle late in the afternoon.

We left De Hoop the next morning in steady rain, and at one point we were behind a huge flock of sheep that filled the road for about 20 minutes before the shepherd aided by his skillful sheep-herding dogs, urged the sheep to one side so that we could get by. On one hillslope we caught sight of two blue crane, the national bird of South Africa, with two young. We left the rain behind as we crossed the first mountain pass north of De Hoop, and by the time we crossed the towering Groot-Swartzberg mountains, we had beautiful blue skies. We pulled over to admire a klipspringer on a rock outcrop and to scramble around on a few rocky precipices admiring all the amazing alpine plants, and then headed into the deep canyon leading down from the crest to the tiny Victorian town of Prince Albert.
Towering walls of the Groot-Swartberg pass.


Hail shelter in Prince Albert
We pulled in just a few minutes before the tourist information office closed in search of a self-catering room, and suddenly ended up with an entire beautiful house for less than the price of most U.S. Interstate Exit-ramp motels.  This was on the edge of town and we had a view of the foothills to the mountains, but steady wind and rain discouraged us from using either of the porches and accumulated fatigue urged us to sleep quite early.  In the middle of the night we were suddenly awakened by fierce pounding on the tin roof by thousands of golf-sized hailstones, flashes of lightening and booming thundering. Peeking out of the windows, we could see the ground was solid white with accumulated hailstones.  We were lucky indeed that we decided not to sleep in our tiny tent that night!!!!

Upon leaving Prince Albert, we were closing the loop for the journey back home and headed back to Mokala National Park for one last night spent in the wonderful fresh air and under the stars. We quickly reclaimed our familiar campsite and chatted with a couple from Johannesburg who were as relaxed and relieved to leave the City behind as we were. We enjoyed seeing the wildebeest with their wild bucking gallop down into and just as quickly out of the waterhole, and the warthogs wallowing in fresh mudholes left by recent rain.  The next morning we left early and stopped at one big shopping center to buy a few supplies for the car to the tune of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" and the twinkling of Christmas lights and huge displays of ornaments and imported chocolates. The remainder of the trip was mostly uneventful and the border crossing was smooth except for a slight misunderstanding with a grandma who asked us to transport herself, her daughter, and two grandchildren across the border and back to Gaborone!

By the time we came home, worry about our house and family and friends was mounting, so although traveling is wonderful, it was a bit of a relief to return to base camp and touch base with loved ones. Sadly, the news that one of our dear friends had passed from physical presence in this world awaited us.  This should have come as no surprise as she had fought cancer for over a year and had been cared for at home by her steadfast husband with the assistance of friends, family, and hospice in recent weeks. But still, STILL: hearing that one so true, so unmatchable, and indescribably good was taken from us (yes, I know I am being self-centered here), could not, and still cannot, be easily accepted.  Nancy is as fundamental to the Tucson landscape as the Santa Catalina Mountains and the Santa Cruz river and I cannot, shall not, contemplate the desert southwest without her.  This is why we must try, as best we can, to enjoy each and every moment, smile, touch, and sound of laughter while we can, and revel in what good we find while we can.

Thanks for bearing with me through these tales-sometimes it all seems like a dream and writing these those helps me fixate these things in my mind.  Stay well dear ones!