From Maun to Kasane: 600 kilometres full of surprises
The next morning we leave early, because we have about 600 km ahead of us today. The journey goes from Maun to Nata and then along the Zimbabwe border to Kasane, wich lies at the top right of the map, directly on the borders to Zimbabwe, Namibia and Zambia.
I’m almost a little sad that we’re leaving Maun, because against all expectations it was really nice here. The city is really safe, nowhere were we looked at stupidly and all the people we met were really friendly. Especially the biltong (dried meat) salesman in the supermarket, who made the whole monthly turnover with Mirko on one day, will be missing to our travel group. But finally we want to continue our journey and visit the Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. 600 kilometres on the roads of Botswana means a very long journey and you should bring a lot of time and patience. Especially as today we drive on the only main road in the country and there is not even a bend apart from a crossing after about 300 kilometres.
As soon as you leave Maun, there is nothing to the right and left of the road except a few donkeys and cows and of course dense bushes. And that for miles. So that people are also able to find villages, there are all sorts of interesting trail markings.
For example, a green car door hangs on one bush and a blue plastic pipe or green hubcap on the other. Some villages are even very creative and have made whole scarecrows out of various spare parts that show the way. I would like to hear the directions, turn left at the fender, then drive a few kilometres into the bush and right again at the scarecrow. What is also very cute, by the way, is that everywhere a tree or a garbage can is painted with the Botswana flag. What would it look like if we painted our trees with the German flag every 3 meters?
Next we pass a veterinary checkpoint where my driver’s license is checked. The inspector doesn’t even want to see my brand-new international driver’s license. The German rag is perfectly adequate here. I wonder why I spent all that money on that ugly gray paper. But true to the motto „expect the unexpected“ it does not mean that the next inspector does not want to see other documents or a little money. Finally we have to drive through a disinfection water hole and then our journey can continue.
Searching at the roadside
After about 10 kilometres Veronica randomly looks into the side mirror and realizes: The side flap on the boot is open! There it goes again! Again we jump out of the moving car as if stung by a tarantula check the contents of our car. Within 30 seconds we expertly determine that a whole bag of sleeping bags and pillows is missing. This really can’t be true, you can’t have that much bad luck. Now we drive all the way back to the vet checkpoint and look for our clothes on the oncoming lane. Meanwhile Mirko and Veronica hang out the side windows and all that’s missing is one of them taking out the binoculars. We briefly consider whether it is not better to drive on the wrong side of the road, because then we can see better. We certainly do not have oncoming traffic… When the mind reawakens, however, we decide against a ghost trip and want to try our luck like this.
Of course we find nothing, nothing at all. To be honest, I would have been almost surprised if we found our plastic bag in the high grass that grows to the right and left of the road. Especially since both the sleeping bags and the pillows have camouflage. I prefer to make plan B and think about of what kind of clothes I could make a pillow and a blanket for the next camping night. Luckily I still have a mini sleeping bag in my luggage, which is wafer-thin but for one night it will certainly work. After all, this is Africa, not the North Pole.
Also at the check point nobody saw cushions flying out of our car or noticed an open side flap. Desperately we stop again and search the whole trunk and look underneath some more luggage. Beneath we find the lost bag with the sleeping bags and pillows. We could have noticed this sooner and saved ourselves the 50 kilometres detour. But we don’t want to complain, because now nobody has to search the high grass for our things on foot.
The pothole business
Shortly after our safari vehicle is back on the road in a good mood, we drive over almost 3 elephants who walk along the highway in peace of mind. Of course, the road is by no means comparable to a German autobahn, it is more like a road with constant potholes, but you may drive here after all 120. If no pothole appears.
In general, I have the feeling that the Botswana are running a pothole business. Because on all roads, which are halfway intact, a maximum of 80 is permitted and on the slopes with crater-deep holes in the surface one can break the axle with 120 km/h. Either you don’t see the holes in time or if you see them, you can’t estimate how deep they are. The pothole mafia in Botswana has their tricks in store. Because some holes have already been filled with gravel and some have not, the probability of an axle break correlates with increasing speed. So it makes sense to allow 120 km/h on the particularly bad roads. The axle repair business must be really great here! I’d bet that right after the accident a bunch of people come out of the bush with overpriced spare parts. Somehow driving a car in Botswana is a bit like playing the lottery, but with the difference that there are prizes only for the spare parts sellers. Shortly afterwards we pass another checkpoint with facial control, for whatever it‘ s supposed to be, I can’t explain. First we are asked where we come from and where we want to go, and then a general astonishment breaks out that a woman is driving. They just don’t seem to know that. Both Checkpoint officials have a very broad grin and confirm to me: strong lady, verry strong lady.
Finally! I had to wait 36 years and travel to the other side of the world to finally be recognised as a strong woman! Why doesn’t anyone in Germany actually recognise this? I say the Europeans could learn a lot here.
The next 300 kilometres are straight ahead. The landscape at the roadside alternates between dense bushland, open plains, maize fields and flooded landscapes. Sometimes the road is even half submerged and while Veronica is still joking in the passenger seat that we can be glad that the road is still passable at all, we drive towards an entire lake.
Road crossing in Botswana
This can’t be happening! We can’t get through here with our car. At least not in this life. After the first 10 meters the water would probably flood the car and the girls would be in bright excitement, because we‘ re already calculating what the fun will costs us. And Mirko is already thinking of the best excuses for the water damage.
The next detour we could take would cost us at least 2 days and leads us through the Moremi National Park. That’s exactly where we just came from and we already know that all roads there are closed due to flooding. Our options are therefore very limited.
Luckily, there is a little truck at the side, which seems to be waiting there especially for cases like us. Besides a pothole mafia, there is also a flooding mafia. The driver offers to load us for 250 Pula and transport us through the lake.
When the rainy season started, the boys probably rubbed their hands and drank a bottle of champaign. Probably doing the business of their lives with that puddle. And with tourists they still charge a juicy surcharge. But no matter what has to happen, happens and a trip on a truck is an adventure after all.
And indeed it is. I have to sit in the driver’s seat while everyone else is standing behind the truck’s cab. This is of course very safe with deep mud holes. It wobbles and it squeaks enormously and who does not hold on properly, drops guaranteed from the truck. And then we also meet half a convoy of cars, which firstly transport a boat and secondly have half the loading area full of people. You have to know that it is normal in Botswana to take hitchhikers with you. Here, only one in ten has a car and before you walk 300 kilometres, you’d better stand by the road for an hour and look for a ride. Okay, I have to admit we probably would have made it on our own, but only with at least 3 nervous breakdowns and lots of sweat and tears. I prefer the loading area a lot more.
In fact it is a lot of fun and we are almost sad when the water ride is over. Actually we have already experienced all breakdowns on this holiday, got stuck in the mud hole, a flat tire, a wrongly booked hotel, a dropped lens, an open tailgate and not to forget the open side flap and of course our spectacular water towing action. I can’t think of any more mishaps that could happen to us right now and I have to say that scares me a little bit!
After so much excitement we are also soon hungry and take a rest at the roadside. Here there are two benches and even a table and a man-high sign behind it, which reminds us again of where we actually are here. Namely in a wildlife area and entering is of course at your own risk. Thanks Botswana, I almost lost my fear of the lurking lion pride in the bush. Luckily, I’m reminded again to be always alert.
Our new best friend
A short time later some men come out of the bush who have their dogs with them. A particularly cheeky dog lady quickly sighted us and apparently made good experiences with tourists. I have already mentioned that eating in Botswana cannot take place without observers, and that is how it is this time too.
She runs half a kilometre to our car in no time at all and greets us happily. Of course, nobody can stay firm with her heartwarming eyes and Mirko is even busy sharing his beloved Biltong with the dog lady. From now on, she’s Mirko’s new best friend. She certainly didn’t expect such a meal.
Also the calls of their masters cannot lure her away here. She waits next to our car until the bitter end and would probably like to join us and take care of the rest of the biltong. After fifteen minutes we have to tear ourselves away and try to send her back to her master, which of course we do not succeed. Only when we leave she remembers her family and disappears into the bush. Who can blame her? That was probably the best lunch in weeks.