Ngepi Bush Camp to Audi Camp
Maun, Botswana
S 19º 56’ 07” – E 23º 31’ 01”
We were determined not to have to pay the high price for the sub-standard breakfast they served at Ngepi, and decided to leave as early as possible… We rode our bikes right into the reception area, despite being asked not to by the staff, as we were intent on pissing them off as much as possible before we left… We had had more than enough of their attitude, and planned to shake things up a little before we left… Bikers do that sort of thing, don’t you know?
There was a longish delay while we argued about the amount of wine we had consumed (they had put an extra bottle on our account in error) and after that was sorted out we paid our bill and prepared to take on the dirt road to the C48 once again… It had rained during the night, and the puddles if anything, were deeper than when we had ridden in… No fun, but we managed it, grimly hanging on in places until we reached the safety of the tar road…
Allan and I breach etiquette again, by parking in Ngepi’s “reception”…..
Once back on the tar, we had to pump our tyres to get them back to the correct pressure for the harder surface, and whilst we were doing this, the van Dijk couple arrived, also on their way to Botswana. We had shared a few bottles of wine with them the night before and had become travelling buddies… They hung around chatting until we were ready and decided to accompany us all the way to Shakawe across the border…
Pumping tyres on the C48, close to the Mohembo border post, Botswana….
We were happy to agree to this, as we were about to drive through the Mahango Game Park, where elephants abound… I figured that three targets would widen the odds of being flattened, as apposed to just the two of us…!
Allan considers the warning signs at the entrance to the Mahango Game Park, while our Dutch friends look on…
Once at the entrance to the game reserve, Allan eyed the large sign that warned us to “Beware of elephant, lion, buffalo, hippo and crocodiles…” and looked across at me and said, “You’re kidding me…!” I told him that Africa was not for sissies and urged him to get his backside onto the bike, as I wanted to get this next 20km stretch over with as soon as possible…
We rode slowly through the Reserve, with me in the lead, as I preferred to stay as far away as possible from the noise that Allan’s bike makes, believing that if any animal was to become annoyed with us, they would go for him…!! That was my theory, and it worked…!! As I passed the various animals, they would look up and then relax again, but when Allan went past them, they scattered into the bush… We saw elephant, but luckily they were too far off the road to be a problem, and the distance to the border post was covered without any opportunity for interesting photos of Allan being chased by various forms of wildlife, intent on putting an end to the noise generated by his Dakar… Our Dutch friends brought up the rear in their rented 4 x 4…
They later told us that watching us up ahead of them was an amazing experience, as they found the sight of two motorbikes motoring through a National Park the most incongruous thing they had ever seen…
Allan on his Dakar, passing through the Mahango Game Park on our way to the Botswana Border Post of Muhembo…
Border formalities were taken in our stride and our three vehicles proceeded through into the northern tip of western Botswana without any hassles… We had to pay 60.00 Pula for the inconvenience of driving on their pot-holed and donkey-filled roads…
Another country and a new flag…. Botswana.
Just as we were leaving the border post, I caught a chameleon which was crossing the road, and Allan took a number of photos while we all waited for him. I put the Chameleon on Mindi’s shoulder, much to her husband’s delight and he also took photos of her in apparently “petrified mode”…
Allan meets his first chameleon, just outside the border post….
We all stopped in Shakawe for fuel, across the river from Kaokwe, and then asked for directions to Wherethefuckarewe…. This done, we said goodbye to the van Dijk’s, (who were heading deeper into the Panhandle to do some camping), pointed the bikes due south down the A34, and rolled out of Shakawe… It became immediately apparent, that people had not been joking when they said Botswana was “crawling with donkeys”… They were everywhere!! Almost always in sight down the long road south; donkeys of all shapes, colours and sizes made life difficult for us… The constant slowing down, or coming to a ranking full stop on some occasions, began to tell on our nerves, and Allan started chasing every donkey he came across… He would ride right up to them, hooting and shouting, until they had moved off the road…. Naturally this meant that he was left far behind while I headed south at a steady clip…
I enjoyed riding ahead on my own, as it gave me an opportunity to be alone with my thoughts, something which was impossible once Allan had taken his helmet off!!! I would ride on ahead of him at a speed that I was comfortable with, and then after a ten minute spell, I would close the throttle off and idle at a sedate pace until Allan caught up…
At Sepupa, the road cuts away from the edge of the swamps, to rejoin it about 40km later at Etsha. A little further on, we came to Gumare, where we stopped to refuel again, as this was the last available fuel before Maun, almost 300km away…. Allan had the petrol attendants screeching with laughter as he cleaned his visor with the sponge apparatus normally used for windshields… I was getting used to his crazy antics by now, and pretended that he was behaving normally…
Allan finds another use for a windscreen cleaner…
Just before Nokaneng, we ran into a rain storm which drenched us completely… We did not have time to put on our rain suits, so quickly was the storm upon us. It lasted about fifteen minutes, and then just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone again, leaving huge puddles of water on either side of the road… Allan rode up as I was taking some photos, and was none too pleased that we had been thoroughly soaked…
The next 70 kms to Tsao was ridden in blazing sunshine, and our kit was soon dry again. We motored on to the turnoff at Senithwa, which lies on the edge of Lake Ngami, and turned northwest, onto the C3 for the long run into Maun… The rain caught us again at Toteng, and although it was not as hard as before, it still managed to make for uncomfortable riding… Just before this, we had stopped to put our cell phones and wallets back into zip-lock plastic bags, and buried them as deep as we could in our panniers… We were old hands at sorting our phones out by this stage…
We had to stop at yet another “Foot and Mouth” control post, where our bikes and our boots were sprayed by a friendly group of control officers. Clouds were building up again ahead of us, and I was determined not to get wet again, and told Allan I would see him in Maun. I lit the afterburners and sped away to challenge the skies above to wet me once again… I made it into Audi Camp seconds before the rain poured down in sheets… There was a large sun-umbrella opened right in front of reception, and I rode directly under it and parked just as rain washed over the area… Allan was not to be so lucky…
I checked in, was shown to tent A4, and unpacked my kit, hung the wet items up to dry, and made myself a cup of coffee while I waited for Allan… He duly arrived about an hour later, soaked through, but in good spirits, as he had searched for, and found a few bottles of red wine in town… Supper was a loud and happy occasion….we had made it to Maun… Despite the attentions of a few thousand donkeys, and rain that just refused to quit…
“I’m freaking wet, Dude…! Where the hell did that come from?” The puddles in the background confirm that we had just ridden through the mother of cloudbursts…
Skinny Dude gets to spray the bikes and our boots with toxic waste….
© 2008 TBMH
Leave a Reply