CAMPING WITH ELEPHANTS (Botswana)
The border guard asked, "Do you have any guns?" We answered
"no." He then enquired "what if somebody would attack
you while you are
camping?" We replied, "We know karate!" In silence he
took a step
back away from us and let us pass. Who was saying that we only knew
the basics?
Botswana was a large flat country of mostly red sand and scrub much
like outback Australia. There were 3 tarred roads; two ran the length
of the country and one into the centre. We weren't ready for sandy tracks
so took the tar. With a sparse population we often bush camped with
each night a golden sunset, followed by the howls of jackals. In the
towns (all two of them) we met mostly English ex-pats working on contract.
With an English schoolteacher we were introduced to the Francistown
bars on the rougher side of town.
Being the only foreigners we got to meet the friendly locals. Drinks
were 1/2 price all night. Next day we took a rest.
From Francistown the road headed into remote areas with long distances
between water and food.
[ Emi meets elephants]
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Camping was easy but we had to be careful of wild animals including
elephants, hyena and lions. The first signs of elephants were their
huge droppings on the road. They were so big even cars had to drive
around them. We were on the constant lookout for beasts and with a
little apprehension because we didn't know how they reacted to cyclists.
We saw plenty, most
walked away and some flapped their ears as a warning. One herd of
elephants charged off into the bush in fear. They moved as if the
thick bush didn't exist. It was easy to see where the elephants had
been; the bush was always broken up. At night we often had to sleep
on their trails although in fear of being stepped on. Often the elephants
passed near in the night. One night it was like camping in a zoo.
As we slept we could hear the sounds of a happy family of
monkeys nearby. Throughout the night we kept waking to different
animal sounds, many we couldn't identify.
[A puncture attracts an audience]
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AFRICAN DRUMS (Mozambique)
Our route through Mozambique, now called the Tete Corridor was once
known by many other names. "The gun run", "the suicide
run" to name
a couple. For here, during the civil war, the road was lined with
minefields and snipers. Every vehicle had to go through in a military
convoy. Now the only reminders of those years were the bullet-riddled
bunkers, with bullet shells, mine casings, tanks (some Russian) abandoned
by the roadside and still many active minefields. The war had ended
only a year before and now the people,
very poor, were returning to re-establish their villages. We found
the people very friendly and the Portuguese we learnt in Brazil was
very useful. We met one man who told us how he had laid mines during
the war and now he was aiding the UN to remove the mines. He was proud
of the safety glasses given him for the job. I couldn't help thinking
what use these glasses would be if a mine blew up in his face. Out
here people can be made happy with the smallest things. A uniform
can make someone feel very important.
We had a 3-day transit visa, no money and 4 days food. The road was
in a good condition and we camped in the larger tunnels under the
road away from the villages. We didn't dare go into the bush for landmines.
At night we heard African communication. No fibre optic cables or
cellular phones out here, the drums are still used.
[ Russian tanks Mozambique]
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SLEEPING WITH THE MASAI (Kenya)
On the back roads again, we cycled this time into Kenya. We were on
Masai tribal land. The Masai people here often wore their colourful
one-piece cloak and plenty of colourful beaded jewellery around their
necks, wrists and ankles. The women had huge earrings. All men and
women had their earlobes pierced so much so that many earlobes were
reduced to being a string loop of flesh hanging from their ears. Some
men still carried spears. We didn't dare camp without permission since
they made sure we knew this was their land.
Therefore one evening we had to approach a village of mud walled and
roofed huts. The people there were all wearing their traditional dress
and putting away their cattle for the night. After the traditional
Swahili greetings I read out a sentence from our Swahili phrase book
asking permission to camp. My words drew blank stares. Again I read
out a sentence; again blank stares all-round. The man came over to
read what I was trying to say then asked me in perfect English "what
do you want?" Tha evening we set up our bed on an old stick bed
in a half demolished disused hut with the stars as our roof. The eyes
of the children followed everything we did until it was time to sleep.
While cycling in this area we encountered, wild zebra, ostriches,
wildebeest, gazelle and giraffe.
[Village camping]
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