Treve & Katrina Travel The World

Hello folks! We're back again in civilisation & we've survived 3 weeks overlanding from Victoria Falls to Cape Town. Camping in the middle of incredible scenery & cooking slops around the camp fire.

Just after we last wrote, 3 weeks ago, we donned our backpacks and tramped across the iron bridge over the Zambezi and crossed into Zimbabwe.

Victoria Falls, the town, was built exclusively for tourists, but the day we arrived it resembled a ghost-town - the tourists seemed to have been scared-off by horror stories of Mugabe's regime. This was a real shame as we saw no evidence of any problems. The only people suffering were the locals who rely on the tourist industry - we felt as though we were more of an attraction than the Falls themselves as we were hounded to buy their trinkets at every corner.

The only original hotel was the impressive Victoria Falls Hotel, dating from colonial times, and was like stepping into The Ritz with afternoon tea being served on the terrace - how very British! We, of course, sneaked in and bought nothing, but enjoyed the fantastic view down the mouth of the Zambezi gorge towards the bridge.

Victoria Falls Hotel

More within our price range, we checked into Lorrie's Lodge - a private guest house run by a booze-swilling, chain-smoking white Zimbabwean lady and her faithful sidekick. It felt great to move into someone's private home and see how the white's live in Zimbabwe. Unfortunately, we didn't get much sleep as the house also served as the drinking den for all of the other whites living in the area! In the bar, we heard stories of shortages of fuel, bread, butter & all the other essentials in life. Apparently locals were having to cross the border into Botswana to get hold of these things & smuggle them back in. At the local supermarket we saw queues of up to 50 people waiting for bread.

After a few days in Vic Falls, it was finally time to meet the overland group at the backpackers' paradise, Shoestrings - down-market version of Jolly Boys over in Livingstone. The trip got off to a strange start, as the night before we received a phone call from the Overland Club company boss, asking if we would be willing to cut the 3 week trip down to 2 due to a lack of people on the truck - hmm... a great start! Luckily, everyone dug their heels in and the trip resumed to 3 weeks.

The trip was run by a couple of Kenyans - Tom our driver & Kevin our rep. We were really lucky to have only 5 other people on the truck - Jesse & Romaine (an Aussie couple also travelling around the world, Pamela (a teacher from Scotland), Jane (a medical student from west London) and Afsun (a business student from the US).

Motley crew in front of The Beast

Finally back on the road and crossing into Botswana, we were suddenly transported into a more organised Africa - the roads were excellent and the supermarket shelves well-stocked (Botswana is wealthy from diamond and mineral mining). Of course, we were forbidden from cooking together to encourage a team spirit, which was definitely needed as most of the group had already endured truck life for 5 weeks from Nairobi and the atmosphere seemed a little fraught. Rather than feeling like outsiders, we felt that the others welcomed some "fresh blood". So, our first stop at Kasane supermarket saw us buying our supplies for the evening meal's concoction.

On the road again...

Onwards to Maun, a schitzophrenic mix of traditional African huts and modern supermarkets and fast-food joints. On the edge of the Kalihari Desert and the Okavango Delta, the town was an oasis of glaring sand and dust complete with a very welcome Nando's restaurant! A very bumpy ride through the African bush, passing towering termite hills brought us to our campsite for the next 3 nights, complete with a crocodile farm, table tennis and bar. Other overland trucks parked up nearby and we immediately realised that our truck was one of the scruffiest on the road. You pay peanuts and you get monkeys! We put up our trusty Swedish Home (as our adopted tent had been marked by a previous overlander) and Treve got cooking with his chore-buddy, Pamela (thanks for the risotto recipe, Becca!)

Traditional village near Maun

We all signed up for 2 nights in the largest inland delta in the world, the Okavango Delta. A bumpy ride through the bush in a safari jeep brought us to the edge of the Delta where we were met by our Mokoro polers (a traditional canoe dug-out from ebony trees, reminiscent of punting on the River Cam in Cambridge but not a straw-boater in sight!) Each Mokoro held 2 people, the poler at the back and our luggage for the 2 nights (no shops in the Delta!)

Poling our luggage

It was incredible to glide silently, inches above the water level, through the reeds past drinking zebra and elephant. The waterside camp-site offered only a fire to cook by and ward off elephants and hippos, which we heard slurping the water metres from our tents at night.

Sunset Mokoro trip

Treve had a go at "poling" the Mokoro, staying dry until the 3rd attempt when he got to drink the Delta's Coke-like brown water.

This is the life!

Early morning walks in the bush, watching the sun rise, were unforgetable, as was our sunset canoe encounter with a lone male elephant who decided to fake-charge ourselves and 10 other Mokoros.

Safari walk

Out of the Delta and back on the road, we raced to beat the closure of the border into Namibia where bush camping in the wild is not illegal. We made it through the Botswana checkpoint, but found the Namibian post closed due to the time difference. Luckily, we were able to pitch up in the relative safety of no-man's land between the border posts. Going to the loo was quite and experience - images of escaping from Colditz sprang to mind as we dug furiously next to the spotlights of the barbed-wire fence!!

Truck life

Onwards into Namibia and the world famous Etosha National Park - the stuff of David Attenborough documentaries. We arrived in time to watch the sunset from the German colonial fort at the Namutoni Safari Camp.

Sunset over Etosha

We pitched our luxurious Svenska home next to the 5* lodge serving the rich and shameless.

Our Svenska home under the weaver nests

A 6am start the next morning, post another eggy breakfast, and we were encountering all of the creatures on their daily bush commute.

Zebra crossing

We were extremenly suspicious when we spotted a sign in a bush saying "Staff Only", conjuring up images of the lions and zebra clocking in for work (the big cats seemed to be on strike that day!). It was great to have the sides of the overland truck rolled-up, as it doubled as an oversized safari jeep for the day.

You put your left leg in...

At the next campsite that evening, we were treated to a real-life wildlife documentary, with rhino and 10 elephants drinking from the floodlit watering hole. We even watched a pride of lions stalking a baby giraffe, all from the safety of our ring-side bench.

A few hours down the road and we ground to a halt at the Cheetah Farm where big cats, threatened by local farmers, are given a home in large fenced reserves. We were lucky to witness the cheetahs at feeding time and even had a chance to stroke one domesticated cat in the bar. Treve got more than he bargained for when little pusskins locked his jaws around his tasty calf - apparently in play, but who can be sure? The teeth marks were still visible an hour later, but alas no photographic evidence to prove it!!

Gingerly stroking a cheetah

Heading west towards the Skeleton Coast, we passed through the high mountains of Damaraland, taking in a 4 hour detour as we made a wrong turn. A fraught re-tracing of our steps as the last daylight failed found us alongside a road digger in the middle of nowhere with a flat tyre. The surprised road crew kindly allowed us to pitch up for the night and we awoke the next morning in a barren landscape.

Bush camping in Damaraland

Fresh-faced in the morning

We hobbled on into one of the most desolate places on earth - the spooky Skeleton Coast.

Entering the Skeleton Coast

It's difficult to describe just how desolate this place really was, but we'll try. One minute we were driving through rocky mountains, next through flat salt plans, then through sparse green bush clinging to the side of a small stream and finally onto the coast where the foggy South Atlantic coast crashed onto the beach and has claimed many ships and their crews. We came across one of the few remaining wrecks on the stretch of coast accessible to the public, but all that remained were a few shards of the wooden hull and the rusting hulk of the engine.

Wreck on the Skeleton Coast

All along the coast, we passed "No Entry" signs, forbidding us entry to the famous diamond mines where apparently the guards are reputed to be over-zelous with their fire arms - firing first & asking questions later!

Cape Cross seal colony

We emerged from the desolation of the Coast at the strange town of Swapkopmund, a real oasis in the middle of nowhere. This coastal town was surrounded by sand dunes, stretching for miles, and little else. It was so strange to be back in civilisation of sorts as this out of season German-influenced seaside resort was void of holidaymakers and resembled Penzance in mid-winter (complete with promenade and amusement arcades).

Swakopmund

We arrived at Dunes Lodge to be told that we would be sleeping in a dorm, complete with proper beds, duvets and hot showers - luxury for 3 nights! The nightlife was said to be quite happening in this town, however we all stayed in and watched Harry Potter instead - in dire need of creature comforts after 2 weeks of camping in the bush!

In addition to boasting lovely German colonial-era architecture and excellent European-style cafes (with delicious coffee and pastries), Swakopmund stakes it's claim as the adrenalin capital of Namibia - Xtreme!! So we donned our bulbous 70s-style helmets and zoomed off into the rolling dunes on our quad bikes. However, Katrina didn't quite make the first turn and ended up veering into a fence - oopps! The rest of her hour was spent quite happily clinging onto the back of the guide's quad bike, James Bond-style while Treve happily whizzed up and down the roller-coaster dunes. So addictive!! Katrina redeemed herself the following morning, finally taming her quad bike and having an excellent time in the sand.

Zooming off into the desert

Kicking and screaming, we begrudgingly left behind the oasis of Swakopmund and headed off on the road again into the Namib Desert and it's awe-inspiring dunes - the highest range in the world.

The Namib desert

Camping in the desert was freezing as temperatures dipped towards zero at night, but rose to over 30 degrees by day.

Crossing the Tropic of Capricorn

We woke up at 5am to climb Dune 45 and watch the sun rise over the desert, together with 50 other eager explorers.

A lone explorer

It was a case of elbows out to get to the top first - Treve's lungs nearly popped out as he lurched his way to 2nd position at the top & paid the price for the rest of the day!

Sunrise on Dune 45

Dropping southwards towards Cape Town, we passed by the edge of Fish River Canyon - in fact one canyon formed within another 500 million years ago. It was a jaw-dropping sight and completely unexpected as we gingerly peered over the edge into this great cavernous region. Tom, our driver, gave us all a fright as he took a detour from the track towards the edge of the abyss - gulp! Once again, Namibia had thrown up something completely different and unexpected. The diversity of the landscape of this country is staggering.

Fish River Canyon

The unpredicatability (read "disorganisation") of this trip continued right until the very end as we discovered that Tom & Kevin did not have visas to enter South Africa and we would therefore be left at the border straddling the Orange River to pick up some as yet undisclosed transport to Cape Town. Walking across no-man's land our eyes fell upon another Green Beast, our transport for the last leg of our journey. Andy the Aussie piloted South through the lush countryside of South Africa to the bright lights of Cape Town and the Ashanti Lodge - a converted Victorian house set up for backpackers with the amazing backdrop of Table Mountain.

So here we are having survived an excellent 3 weeks overlanding. It was fantastic camping in the middle of nowhere (even for a reluctant camper like me! - TK), cooking student meals on charcoal fires and meeting a really nice bunch of people. In fact, although Overland Club was completely disorganised (we wouldn't recommend them to anyone), we still saw and experienced so much. We would never have travelled independantly in Namibia (where public transport was scarce) which would have been a real shame as it was so diverse (and the highlight of the trip for Treve).

We'll spend 2 weeks here in Cape Town and update you all before we finally say our goodbyes to Africa and fly on to Hong Kong.

Sorry if this has been a long one, but we've seen so much in the past 3 weeks!

As always, please keep in touch and let us know your news.

Lots of love,
Katrina & Treve xxx