Date:     Mon, 12 Feb 2007 (delayed)

To:         touring@phred.org

From:    “Michael Ayers” <michael@terminalia.org>

Subject: Gondwana – Big gaps and Bicycling with Beasts in Botswana

Dumela Phreds,

Botswana, a country often referred to as an “African Success Story” (a term which is rather insulting to the rest of Africa) came next on my route.

When I first started researching my route several years ago, I had planned to travel from Victoria Falls to South Africa via Zimbabwe, a country with some interesting sights. However, given “president” Robert Mugabe’s systematic dismantling of his own nation in recent years (the Zimbabwean dollar has been experiencing hyper-inflation lately, with street rates of up to Z$ 400,000 to one US dollar. While I was in the neighborhood, the currency was devalued by a factor of 1,000, which caused much confusion,) I decided that going through Botswana would be a better idea. As I looked into that option, I realized that it may have been a better choice in any case, thanks to the above-mentioned good reputation, and one particularly uncommon destination. That destination was at the end of the route through the country, right at the South African border, which I would reach after entering in the northeast, just west of Victoria Falls, and traveling down the eastern edge of the country.

Along the way, I was struck by the similarities between Botswana and Outback Australia, which, given both regions histories as places inhabited by modern humans longer than just about anywhere else, is probably appropriate. Just like Australia, Botswana is a thinly populated land, where most people have left the countryside to live in towns and cities. Those towns are few and far between, also like Australia, though they are modern and well, stocked with food and the larger ones with other services as well. Consequently, it was rather infrequent that I met many Botswanans, though those that I did were quite nice. The long, flat, and straight highways crossing the dry savannahs and grasslands were also reminiscent of Oz, and, just as there, the traffic, which was at a somewhat higher level than where I had been just before, was almost always traveling too fast. There were also an increasing number of people with European ancestries in the country, though the ratio of migrants to indigenous residents was probably the inverse of Australia, and for the first time in a while my presence was not such an extraordinary event for the local people. Except for the fact that kangaroos and wombats were replaced with elephants and springbucks, and eucalyptus by acacia, it would be easy to be confused as to which of those two countries one were actually visiting.

My route began in the northeast, after a short ride from Victoria Falls to the ferry crossing over the Zambezi River, which forms the border with Zambia. It took a bit longer to get out there and get across than I had hoped and when I reached the nearest town on the Botswanan side, Kasane, it was well into the day. Kasane was not a large town, but seemed over-stocked with services, including two big supermarkets, though the ATM’s were down for a few hours when I arrived, and none of the banks would exchange the Zambian Kwachas that I had with me, as the Botswanans consider that currency to be virtually worthless. Given that, and the fact that I was still feeling a little run-down after being sick for a day back in Livingstone, I ended up spending the remainder of the day there. That was a nice rest, but not a very good scheduling move, as a long, lonely section was up next, and I could have really used that extra time to get to the next town, Francistown. Even worse, a sign in town revealed an error on my map, which marked the length of one section of road as 88 km when it should have been 188. That meant at least an extra half day and, combined with my unplanned rest in Kasane, I was then running a full day late. That would not have been a problem, except that the destination at the end of the route was pre-booked and not easily changed. While I actually rather prefer covering longer that normal distances through flat and lonely areas, I would still need to lose the day off in Francistown that I had wanted to take, and that was an unwelcome fact.

It was 500 km to Francistown, with only 3 or 4 places to get food along the route, most of which were located along the last third of the way.  That meant the first two days would be rather lacking in anything good to eat, and would require me to carry a lot of extra fluids for the first time in a long while. Nevertheless, I have dealt with that before and was glad to get moving again the next morning when I left Kasane. Over the first 320 km there was only one place for food, a little truck-stop town called Pandamatenga, which was 100 km out of Kasane. The little market there was pleasantly stocked with drinks and even ice cream, but with not much that could easily be carried for the next day. I bought whatever I could and, after a short rest, continued on. The section of road ahead was exceptionally invariable with some small sections of woodlands floating in a sea of dry grass. The only sightings of people were the occasional veterinary quarantine stations. The Botswanans are apparently very worried about livestock diseases entering their territory.  Consequently, one is occasionally required to roll your wheels through a big pool of water, which may or may not contain a disinfectant, and then do the same with the soles of your shoes.

Later in the day, some more dense and extensive woods appeared, which were, as I would soon learn, protected as wildlife sanctuaries. I rode on until the Sun had just about completely fallen and was just moments away from stopping for the night, when, about 100 meters ahead, a group of elephants rambled across the road moving from left to right. I stopped for a few minutes to let them move on, and to decide what to do next.  With darkness moments away, I wasn’t sure whether to try and go farther ahead to leave them behind of try and stay where I was. In the end I opted for the latter, choosing to camp 50, or so, meters off on the left side of the road. The theory there was that since the elephants had come from that direction that I would be less likely to encounter them on that side. Just in case, however, I decided to set up my tent under a particularly scraggly, thorny tree without leaves, which, I hoped, would be left alone by the big creatures. Perhaps that was the case, as a couple of hours later I was awakened by the sound of bush being trampled beneath massive feet and gazing out through my tent netting revealed several large, shadowy figures passing by. It was hard to judge their size, distance, and numbers in the moonlight, but I guessed that there were perhaps six elephants of various sizes coming as close as 15 meters from my tent. However, either the crooked tree did its job, or they did not see me, or were simply indifferent to my presence, because they just passed right by, heading in the same direction as the group I saw earlier. That was a curiously fun experience.

The following two days were long, hot and uneventful. The first was completely lacking in services, not to mention human artifacts of any kind, until the late evening when I reached the small settlement of Nata, which had a café and a little shop. The next day was longer, though there were a couple of very thinly-stocked shops along the way. I had hoped to camp just outside Francistown, but as I neared the town, I had trouble finding a good location, so I had to continue on into town, which meant a little bit of after dark riding. I did not enjoy that, as the road was not so good close to town and the traffic was quite unpleasant. I did finally reach Francistown, a surprisingly modern town with many services, and eventually found a pricey, but nice, place to stay and enjoyed the best meal I’d had in weeks.

My reasons for wanting to get to Francistown on time were to make the booking I had in a few days, and to pick up a parcel that I had sent there. The latter was the package of replacement tires that I had sent to me in Tanzania, but never received since they were delivered to the wrong address. Along the way, I had managed to locate the package and arranged to have them picked up from Tanzania and shipped down to Francistown. Of course, since I have a curse on all things shipping-related, the package was not there after all, and at that point I simply gave up on ever seeing those tires. So, after wasting a few hours dealing with that the next morning, I set out again, still needing to arrive at my next destination in a few days. As luck would have it, that afternoon I noticed that the tread on my rear tire, the one I had purchased in Lilongwe, Malawi, beginning to wear through. It was only the next morning that the tire failed completely. I have never seen a tire go from usable to dead more quickly than that one did. All I had left was my emergency spare, which had seen far more kilometers than it ever should have, and was just barely holding together. It did manage to last far a little while longer though, luckily, the next few days were not as remote, with a number of small towns scattered evenly along the route, so if it didn’t last I probably would have been able to work something out.

The place that I had been anxious to reach all along was one that had been near the top of my list of places to see in Africa since I began planning the tour, the Mashatu Game Reserve. What makes that reserve special compared to the numerous others in southern and eastern Africa is that in Mashatu it is possible to go on a bicycling safari, and that opportunity was one that I could not pass up. I enjoyed the Tanzanian safari I did earlier quite a lot, but being stuck in a motorized vehicle for a few days was not really to my liking. Mashatu is a private game reserve located along the Limpopo River in Botswana right where that country meets Zimbabwe and South Africa. There are two types of accommodation there, a remote camp with equipped canvas tents, which was probably more than adequate for my needs, and the main lodge which was a few levels of luxury above anyplace I had stayed in a long time. I had originally planned to stay for four days in the tent camp, but since I was way behind schedule, I only booked two instead. However, the tent camp was full on the days I needed so I stayed in the main lodge, which, of course, was twice the cost of the tent camp, so the effect on my budget worked out the same as my original plan after all.

I had decided to ride as close to the Reserve’s gate the night before and camp there so I could arrive as early as possible the next day to get started seeing some wild creatures. As usual, however, the distance from the gate to the lodge was about 24 km longer, over a decent, but still slow, dirt road than what I had been led to believe. Consequently, I knew I would arrive a couple of hours later than I wanted. I was grumbling to myself about that and staring down at the ground when I had one of the best animal encounters of my whole African trip. It began with the startling, and quite loud, sound of hoof-falls, which caused me to look up and see a herd of at least 15 giraffes proceeding to cross right in front of me. They had been going about their business right next to the road and I must have surprised them because, by the time I looked up, they were at full gallop, and crossed the road no more than 20 meters in front of me. It was an incredible spectacle and both visually and aurally as the great size and weight of the animals makes a very impressive sound when they are on the move.

When I did finally arrive at the reserve headquarters, I appeared to take the staff a little by surprise. Most guests arrive by small plane, and I may have been the first person ever to actually arrive for bicycling safari by bicycle. Once the man in charge of the reserve realized that I was a guest and not a wayward vagrant, I was welcomed and taken to the main camp. I had originally planed on taking two game-viewing rides, one on the first day and another on the second. However, since I was a little late and a little tired, I asked if I could change the plan and do both rides on the second day. That was not a problem and turned out to be a good move as I appreciated the chance to rest a little that afternoon. As I mentioned earlier, the main camp is quite a luxurious place, and I felt a bit out of place with my rather shabby and grimy appearance, but I cleaned up as best I could and then felt much better. The staff, which includes both Botswanans and expatriate South Africans, was exceptionally friendly and accommodating, and they put out quite a tasty spread at that evenings meal, so I was definitely ready to go out and see some animals the next day.

The first ride got started early to enjoy the coolness of the morning. It was just me and the guide, a nice fellow, originally from South Africa, who knows every plant and creature in the bush and is an experienced mountain biker. The reserve has bikes that were available for me to use, but I chose to use mine, since we have been though so much together so far. Paul, the guide led the way, with a rifle slung over his shoulder (the first time I have ever biked with any kind of weaponry involved.) The morning ride was towards the interior of the reserve and included a lot of technical riding, with many rocky, dry stream beds to cross. There were some nice animals seen on that ride, though most were a little shy and kept their distance. It has always perplexed me why animals everywhere seem more afraid of a harmless human on a bicycle than something truly dangerous, like a noisy truck, but for some reason that is the case. Nevertheless, we saw giraffe, a few varieties of antelope and a small group of wildebeest. It was fun to follow the latter in the cloud of dust that they threw up as they ran away. Upon returning to the camp, I was handed a cool face towel to wipe the dust and sweat off my brow. Normally, I forego such amenities, but I found myself thinking that it would be nice if someone gave me one of those at the end of every day.

The afternoon ride was in a different section of the reserve, close to the then-dry Limpopo River, where there was more green vegetation creating both pleasing shade and a nice habitat for animals. The terrain was mild and the surface was smoother than earlier, so it was easy to look around more while riding. That was a good thing since there were many more animals to be seen in that area. Warthogs, many antelope, ostrich, a jackal, and several interesting birds were all easily seen.  However the elephants were the stars of the day. There was a herd feeding on the green trees along the river and Paul led us as close behind as possible without disturbing them, while trying to keep us upwind from the matriarch. I could tell that he was a little unsure if the whole group was in the area as he kept looking behind us for stragglers. Sure enough, a few moments later, he indicated that it would be a good idea if we rode off away from the riverbed, and moments later two juvenile, but nevertheless giant, bulls came charging up out of the bushes anxious to rejoin their group. They had acquired our scent and apparently felt uneasy about being separated from the others and trumpeted loudly as they ran up. Looking over one’s shoulder as you’re riding along and seeing elephants running behind you is one of those images that is never to be forgotten.

It would have been nice to stay a little longer but that really wouldn’t have fit in with my schedule, so in the morning I departed as planned and was taken to, and across, the dry river which is the border with South Africa, and where there is a lonely border crossing station. Though a fairly short tour in the country, I had a nice time in Botswana, especially in Mashatu. There are some other places in the country that I would have been interested in seeing, but they did not work out with my route. Botswana is a nice country for touring, though some of the conditions are better suited for those with more experience. I guess I fall into that category by now.

Up next was my first visit to South Africa, but that was just a brief visit before I left the mainland for an exceptionally nice section of the Stage.

Ke a leboga,

Mike

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The Tour of Gondwana

May 02005 - Oct 02007

http://www.terminalia.org/tour