Botswana

Before I dive into this post, please be sure to read the "Tick, Tick, Tick" post I put up a little bit ago. I would like some feedback if you are willing. Anyways, where to begin....

Botswana wasss, hmmm, shall I say interesting? I do not know exactly what I was looking for, but I did come away feeling slightly unfulfilled. However, I do believe it was because I did not have extended exposure to that raw, nowhere-else-on-earth nature experience I was looking for. Nevertheless, I had an amazing adventure and the things I saw and the experiences I had were undoubtedly unforgettable. I will try to do this without being too long-winded.

Shoving off was a bit of a mess. As expected with any long trip, Tom and I were on the road to get the vehicle a little later than desired. When we were getting the run down of all the equipment and checking off that everything was present, a woman comes up to me and says, "Umm, uh, Mr. Destro? I'm sorry, there has been a bit of a problem... could you come inside please?" Great. So they overbooked their GPS units and it was no issue, just had to go with this lady to the airport to their sister rental company to get a unit. The lady had no idea what the hell was going on. When we finally got to the airport the could not use their Nedbank machine to swipe my Nedbank debit card for some reason, and we had to wait there two hours for them to bring my other card from the rental place. I made them give us a free day rental and GPS rental out of it. Just when we thought we were on the road we couldn't find the folder with the passports. Stopped and opened the back to find them, broke both of our bottles of booze. This was not looking good.

Because of traffic on Easter weekend and the late start we stayed in Mookgophong, South Africa the first night, at a place called Die Oog. It is an Afrikaans retirement resort campground community kind of thing. Apparently during Apartheid a lot of these type of places popped up.

That's our truck all set up for the night.
Tent on the roof!

The next day we set off for the Botswana border. Northwestern South Africa is really beautiful; vast mountainous expanses in every direction. We crossed at Martin's Drift border crossing, and it took 3 hours. Once in Botswana, we had to stop very frequently. The stops were one of the strangest parts. There would frequently be:

Cattle grates -- gates leading up to a patch in the road where it was segmented so an animal could not pass through without getting caught.

Foot and Mouth Disease Control checkpoints -- You had to get out of the car, get all of your pairs of shoes, and wipe them on a dirty-water-soaked one foot square mat. Then, you had to let them check to see if you had fresh meat or dairy products with you. Thennn, you had to walk through and show them your passport, then they would ask you a bunch of questions. They took our milk once, demanded we eat our meat there on the spot once, but we were stopped several times. Always nice people though.

Random gates -- exactly that. Sometimes they give you the thumbs up, sometimes they see you look out of place and they ask you questions. When they find out you are American, then they are really curious! One of the men at one of the gates, his name was Botswana. Imagine that. He told us he needed something to show his family that he had met Americans today. Not having any US coins or any stars-and-stripes laying around, we gave him a pair of sunglasses. These sunglasses, as we told him, were imitation Lacoste sunglasses bought from a street vendor in South Africa. They were melted from the heat of being on the dashboard. He said that was good, I took his picture.

He posed twice.

Botswana (the country) has vast stretches of land in between small towns, and about every 180 kilometers there would be a small city. In between these places you could see huts dotting the landscape, almost camoflauged into their surroundings. There would be small paths with large markers by the road. Here are a couple of sightings from the beginning of the trip.

Can anyone can tell me what "Dikgo go dik go go" means?
The goat on the left has numbers painted on it.

Try to pronounce those.

This is a typical sign for no vending.
It is on the side of the highway.

First filling station.

This is apparently for housing development.
Units selling from R133 to R422 including tax
1 USD = 8.53 R at the time of this post.
Houses starting at $15.

We knew we were behind on time. Still in the southeastern corner of Botswana by second nightfall, we decided to get a little crazy and drive through the night. We drove north of the Makgadikgadi Pans (salt pans visible from space) and nearly smacked into the four largest giraffes I have ever seen crossing the road. These things were at least 30 feet tall. We stayed and watched them walk by and fade into the darkness. Along the drive we also saw a Caracal (African Lynx) eating something, and a Bat-Eared Fox. It was tough getting through the night, and I never drove (damn Americans can't drive stick)! A couple times Tom would hit the brakes and would say"Woah" like he was avoiding something in the road. There was nothing there. To his defense, besides all the gates and such, we always had to be on the lookout and stop for either cows, donkeys, horses, or goats in the middle of the road. We safely made it all the way to Maun by sunrise.

Tom in the middle of the road, middle of the night.

Second filling station.
We carried 150 Liters minimum.

It was still dark when we got to Maun, and "Crocodile Camp" is the only place that would open the gate for us at that hour. Delusional but functional, we set up camp and got to sleep by the time was up and ready to bring the heat.

When we woke up at about 12:30 we got the chance to see what the place was all about. Past its prime. It was actually kind of eerie; there were no other campers, just an empty lot with a guy at the end staring at us.

Ladies care to use the restroom?
Actually this was the only place I showered the whole trip.

So for the day we ventured round the area of Maun and went exploring. We would take dirt roads not knowing where they were going, just to see what we could find.

This is a really really nice place.
They have electricity as well.

A2-BUZ
These two are for Adriano.
The local airstrip in Maun is constantly buzzing with flights over the Okavango.

This is one of the roads we were on.

We found an abandoned village.
I shot a little series of one of the buidlings.

At first I thought these were just party spots littered with cans.
I found out they combine the termite mud with the cans to make their houses.
I was informed by our Mokoro poler Edward that these houses last about 4 years.



A brick mold.





A more traditional hut.

On our way back that evening we found a place called Island Safari Lodge, situated 3 km down a bumpy dirt road. Once the gate opened and we got inside (and we heard the prices) we new we had made a big mistake going with crocodile camp. As we pulled forward into the parking spot we watched a Cervet Monkey dart off the ground and up into the trees. We jetted back to CC to get our money back and then back to ISL for the night. Before the office closed we decided to get in on a Mokoro (hand-carved canoe) trip for the next morning. Here are some pictures from the first night there.

I thrive on scouring small areas for material.

The next morning we left for our Mokoro trip. It was a motorboat ride into the delta where we met our captain and our vessel. Still a little "brisk" that morning I didn't have my camera out when we went past a bull Hippo glub glubbing his was under the water to avoid us slowly passing by. It was honestly breathtaking. Here are a couple shots from along the motorboat ride.

Mokoro

This is where we met Edward, our "poler." Edward brought a pole that was to short for the deep water, so we had to go to his village to get it. To get into/out of his village, you had to climb over a fence using a ladder. Disease control.

The liquor store.






This is to keep Hippos away from the fishing net in the water.



When we stopped for lunch Tom and I tried our hand at piloting the Mokoro.
Neither of us were all that good.

We brought our cushions and our lunches onto shore. After putting the lunches in a tree we proceeded on a game walk. Besides a Mamba and a quick glimpse of a Reedbuck, all we saw were birds and traces of animals. We did, however, get a fright by a guy who kind of snuck up on us. He said he had to go to the village to get something. He was walking into nothing as far as I could tell.

That grass on the left is actually a swamp.
We would hit shore, stand up, look around, and have no idea where we just came from.

After a short time Edward asked us if we wanted to continue or eat lunch. We ate, then he said we could rest if we wanted to avoid the heat. Having paid at least $90 for this excursion, I wanted to push on. Tom and Edward slept for almost an hour. Now rested, our options were to go further or go back and get a tour of the villlage (which we already did). I have long ago realized Edward does not want to work so hard. We pushed on a little further in the Mokoro and he said the place we wanted to stop was full of people and we couldn't go any farther.

Edward and an unfriendly view of Tom.


underwater

underwater

Yeah, it was like that.
The water was crystal clear.
The people used it to cook, drink, catch dinner, wash clothes, everything.

We went back and the boat miraculously came early! Although a little disappointed, we did have a nice slow ride back in the motorboat where I got a couple nice pictures.

There are birds on its back!

Pied Kingfisher

Hammerkopf

Open-Billed Stork

This kid was trying to fish but he had no weight on his string.
I don't know if you can tell but the splash is right next to his body.
He would twirl and twirl but to no avail.

When we arrived back at the docks we were greeted by this pooch.


The tree above our camp was swarmed by butterflies, wasps, flies, and all sorts of things.



Dinner before a big day the next day. I tell you we were proper bush chefs. Dinner might have took a while to prepare, but damn it was worth every second.









Originally we were not going to go to Moremi game reserve and make our way back the following morning , but we decided to push it another night and do it. It was a nearby family that was saying to us, "you came all the way to Maun but you are not going to Moremi? Put it this way, have you had a lion come through your camp at night?" No. "Then you haven't been to Botswana." We were sold.

It took about two hours or so to reach our destination within Moremi. We made reservations to camp at North Gate, about an hours drive from South Gate. The roads were sand and had deep ruts. Elephant crossing signs dotted to way. We were now "in it." No gates, no barbed wire, just you and the animals. As we were driving we could see little paths heading into the bush. None of these paths, however, had been made from humans. Animals rule this territory, and you had better watch out if you have to get of your vehicle!

These were the first herd of Impala we came across.
They are as common as our deer.

We drove over this bridge at North Gate.
This is the new bridge, the old one is on the left.

Once we arrived at North Gate and scoped out our camping area, we decided to venture on a game drive before dark. All of the roads are intricate networks of game-viewing 4x4 track, linking up various locations. Therefore, we had game trails attached to our camp.

You could feel the energy. You could feel the tension. You could feel the animals and their heightened senses all around you, watching you.

View of the 4x4 trail.

View from the vehicle.



We came across another herd of Impala.
This one had a young male with it.









They point their ears in the direction they want to focus hearing.





Dominant male of the herd.
Competing males were trying to creep on his territory!




Bugs in the light. Better in high res.

With the sun rapidly fading and us having no real idea where we were, we doubled back to camp to set up for the night. Baboons and Cervets covered the area, waiting to take advantage of unsuspecting campers after nightfall. Upon arriving at our chosen site, we were greeted by a Wildcat scrounging for food. When nightfall hit, the sounds are what took over the air. Throughout the night you could hear the Imapalas fighting and butting heads, tree frogs, Hippos, occasional Lions, and who knows what else those other sounds were. Let's just say we tried to always travel in pairs, even if it was simply to walk to the wash station. Leftovers for dinner and a couple drinks to relax with, we watched the stars and listened for the rest of the night.

One view from our camp at night.
Wash station in the middle.

This one was nice enough to let us take close-ups.

We woke very early to the sound of Lions roaring. Honestly, that is what woke me up. Tom and I shared the same sense of urgency without saying a word. Camp was packed up faster then ever and we were off to find the nearby pride.

The Okavango is a river that drains into the land. Flooding is what creates the magic that happens here. Unfortunately, the wet season makes it a little more difficult for those trying to go enjoy the area. Roads are frequently washed out, grasses are tall (making it hard to see), and because there is water everywhere the animals can spread out. Hearing the lions close by, we knew we had to act quick. We had not tackled any water obstacles yet, so when we came across a large water crossing we really did not know what to do. We went for it.

About halfway through we kind of freaked and tried to turn around, veering off and out of the water-filled track. Now running parallel to the track, we freaked a little more and turned 90 degrees left, leaving us completely stopped and stuck perpendicular to the track about 15 meters away. Wow. Stuck in a swamp, 7am, avoiding the initial thought that we were effed. Did I mention that we are stuck in mid-shin deep standing water and I forgot my Malaria tablets back in Johannesburg?

I got out of the vehicle to take a picture before I got on the roof to get the Hi-Lift jack and get to work. This picture was taken before we were really stuck.

Note the track in the background, going the other direction.

I successfully got the vehicle elevated off the ground, but we had nothing to put under the tires. We made another error I will not explain out of humiliation, and I almost broke all my fingers on my right hand. We were stuck. While we waited for some miraculous source of help I got on the roof to take some pictures. A game-viewing vehicle became visible in the distance shortly after. I flagged it down from the roof of the truck and they said they would call for a scout. He came shortly after, only to see our situation and tell us he had to go get the serious stuff and he would see us in a while. Back to the pictures.

The scout leaving to get the necessary supplies.
Notice our tracks to the right.

Reedbuck














Rescue vehicle coming back.

Two men brought four long planks. We jacked the vehicle up from 12-14 times. The boards would slip out, we would get more stuck, and so on. At one point the whole truck fell off the fully-extended jack and almost crushed the one man. We were stuck below that halfway point of the tires at the worst point. Three hours later we managed to get it back into the track. We now had to double back just to get out of the park without having to pay for another day's admittance fees.

Lilac-Breasted Roller

Will post the rest tomorrow! Those are simply shots from the drive back, including the night we stayed on the side of the road outside the gate to the Lethlakane Diamond Mines in Orapa.

Then, the lion park and we will be all caught up! Thanks everyone!

Tick Tick Tick

Routines rule our lives. Sorry, it's true. Somewhere in there we all know it. Think about it. We have our morning routine before our work/school routine. During that work routine, we have our escape from it by acting out our lunch break routine. Our after work routine soon follows, followed by the bedtime routine. All of this encapsulated into the daily routine. The daily routine eventually extends into the monthly and yearly constants; tick, tick, tick......

Their stealthy presence slips in undetected night after night, buzzer after buzzer, until finally they have fully taken over, sometimes even without notice. In many cases these routines become so controlling that they are even able to prevent dreams from being aspired for -- Well I was thinking about being this (career), but this happened (needed to make money for goal, got a job, never left)... -- and so on and so on. Surely it has already happened to me several times in a different manner. Surely it has happened to family members and loved ones and people I respect. And of course, surely I respect the people who have had to take this route for whatever reason.

Some daily routines are said to be obligatory, but in 98% of the cases the person acting out the routine is the one who created it as a result of complacency. Complacency is easy, no? If we all take a step back I am sure we will notice one thing happening in the daily routine as a result of complacency. Yes we all must make a living and at some point then probably support a family (take on "responsibilities"), but it is no reason to forget the things that make us an individual. Was it not that perhaps adolescent venturing for the stars that allowed for the path to be paved to the present? But we easily write those days off to childhood innocence, written off due to the unknowing lack of responsibility that unfortunately will not be present when we are older? What, is it that when we are older we are just so burdened with our responsibilities that we realize that most dreams are just dreams and nothing more? No thanks.

Now I guess I am referring to dreams in two different manners, one for things we think about when we sleep, and one for the ideal routine we imagine ourselves living. How different are these two instances? Funny how easily one slips into the other while writing. I am a dreamer. I am also a believer in dreams. This blog post is for the dreamers out there, people willing to achieve goals despite whatever life throws at them. The people that do not always listen to conservative advice to live on the side of taking a chance and putting themselves out there knowing the reward is worth the risk. To the chance-takers, life-livers, give-it-all-you-gotters out there, I commend you and all that you do.




I know incredible amounts of people that do not even regard their dreams anymore. Personal aspirations, nightly thoughts, try talking to them about dreams and attempt to analyze, nothing. Understandably, it can of course be a "touchy" subject in the case of personal stories of unavoidable obstacles preventing people from achieving goals; drawn-out agony is not always nice when it resurfaces. But I want to talk about those who are happy, content, successful people not falling into this category. Even these people want no part of the discussion. If the discussion is held, there is always an underlying understanding that no matter what is said, it can't be true/defined because dreams are what is being discussed (so there is a feeling of "humoring" the other just for conversation's sake). It is similar to talking about existential being, quantum theory, religion, all the questions without scientifically-definable answers. I believe that those who choose not to discuss these subjects or find it a waste of time to discuss them are doing it as an actual defense mechanism for their routines. I don't have the time to think about that kind of stuff. Perhaps pondering difficult questions will take too much attention from the routine and "throw everything out of whack!"? Perhaps these people have already overcome so many obstacles in their life that they choose not to address new ones? If this is true, then why would our younger years be the best years of our life if this is when we are forced to conquer the most obstacles in order to set the rest of our life on cruise control?

People often ask me or talk about how great it would be to "go back to those days, no?" -- No! Childhood is childhood; mine was great and I am both blessed and eternally grateful, but I didn't know anything. I don't really think high school was a really exciting place (I still didn't know anything, but I thought I did), and I would prefer to not have to do an undergraduate degree again that is for sure (again I still didn't know anything, but I thought I did). The things I understand and experience now and in my later years will just be more and more valued when compiled with all the knowledge and wisdom I have soaked in through the years.

So I am wondering if it is these same people who avoid a conversation about dreams are the same ones who stray away from striving for their goals and seeing it through no matter what? Obviously, generalizations aside.

On a side note, I believe it is the "urgency" of our routines that make us forget dreams.
So there you are, on a beach filled with white sand, sipping a Corona and watching the turquoise water dance and blend with the warm hues of the setting sun, when all of a sudden......... BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ, BUZZ BUZZ, BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ..... what the hell?
Immediately your sense of hearing takes you from your dream. Your open your eyes, and the visual of your room slowly comes into focus. Your vision now takes you away. All of the objects in your room, the alarm clock itself (which you have to touch to turn off), all of them have a correlation to a part of the brain. Then you have to start thinking about what you have to do that day. You had your alarm set for a reason, right? Yuck, that taste in your mouth, better start the morning routine. Within three seconds that dream is long gone.

Can this be used as a metaphor to describe the way personal goals/dreams can slip away so easily?

Just some thoughts. Often I find myself falling victim to this phenomena and attempt to resurface through various outlets. Even during my current ventures to achieve my next goal, I still feel the clenching grasp. I am sure we all have noticed how quickly days, weeks, months, years slip by as you get older? Blame it on the routine.