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The namibian story. First from Botswana to Botswana through the Caprivi Strip and then from Botswana to South Africa First part, From Chobe N.P to Mahengo N.P after the Caprivi Strip Just after the Chobe National Park in Botswana, here is the Namibian border. The road go straight north tol Katima Mulilo, then turning west and crossing the Caprivi Strip. At the beginning along the road, you find everywhere small villages. These people still have a life of simplicity and in a way, primitive. They cultivate small fields token away from the nature which is unceasingly taking back its rights. Again and again. The villagers live in one of the place of the world where you can find one of the biggest concentration of national parks. Everywhere around them, they are National or Game Park (National park to become). They just don’t only a hard life because the ground isn’t fertile anymore as in the past but because their neigbours, such as elephants or baboons, are making continually damages, eating everything they growing in the fields. While arriving in Katima Mulilo, we decide to camp in a lodge but the owners give us a "house boat" for a very raisonable price, almost free. They have just finished building it and we spend 2 unforgettable nights in this magical place. Finally I would have been in close contact with the Zambezi. When I was in Mozanbique, I wanted to travel up the Zambezi by boat, but nobody was sailing anymore because of the river’s dangers. Here I would have been rocked by this water, the song of frogs, the criquets and the noise of fish and the crocodiles looking for food during the night. But well, every good thing has its end, it’s the moment to leave and cruise through the Caprivi Strip. When I leave the boat, carrying my luggage in the arms, the pontoon crack when I was on the middle. During my fall, I’ve just time to launch the luggage in a |
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boat close to me and I find myself deep in the water... And I swear you’re not long to get out when zou saw and heard the crocodiles diving... For long, I hesitated to cross the Caprivi Strip by bike, because everyone disadvised me to doing it. More than 200 kilometers to be crossed and in there you find a large concentration of animals, a lot of elephants, various gazelles but also a lot of lions. I had apprehension but when the time for departure come, the fear disappear totally. I know that everything will be at the best. Since I left to live on the road, I learned how to trust my instincts. A new birth for me, listening the nature, my instincts and my heart. I feel very fresh, sharp and a lot of self-confidence in me. An another important fact is also coming from the rainy season. The animals are dispersed on all the Caprivi. There is plenty of water everywhere for them to avoid to come close to the road. The drive is gorgeous and the bush becomes denser, always less villages, almost none. The evening, I ask an old man if we can sleep close to his village (4 small huts, his family, woman and children). He offer us a place inside his fence and make sleep its goats together with the cows. I do not know it yet, but that will be the last time in Africa that I will get hospitality from black people. Further on my way, the apartheid and all the consequences that its dig a gap between these two cultures brought (because of the white, but also because of the blacks, you always have to be two to hate the other). The following day it’s a white namibian, Len, who invite us. He has exactly at the corner of the Namibian, Zambian and Angolan borders. In front of the house, a small river where swim the hippopotamuses and further, the infinite bush. He love the nature and he found a splendid place to live, a lost paradise. With difficulty, the following day we leave to play lotterie with lions in the park. Noises come from everywhere in the bush, suddenly some birds panic, our senses are all awake. Wrong alarm. We continue and see some tortoises, gazelles, fresh elephant’s dungs on the road, eagles, mongoose and even a wildcat. But fortunately no lions. It’s time to stop and we start to seek for a place to camp. Suddenly, on the road’s side, a dead hyena. A giant one, neither Christine, nor me saw such a big piece already. From far, I believed to see a dead young lion or leopard. Of course, the night is coming but we have to cycle a few kilometers more to avoid the others carnivores attract by this easy meal. We have to be quick, prepare the camp, cook and suspend food in a tree before it grows dark. As soon as it starts to be dark, we are in the tent. Ah the bush..., I love that. The night, under my tent, you can hear thousand of noises, sometimes from the wind, sometimes from animals. In the night, we hear the hyenas, they are not far, surely the same group that the dead one. Later, I hear something close to the tent that I can’t identify. The noises cease, surely an another wrong alarm, I fall asleep. Christine who has usually a heavy sleep, cannot sleep and spend a big part of the night to listen... After packing the bike, we leave the camp and start to cycle fast and faster. It’s not safe to stay in this park by bicycle and less time we spend in here, better for us. We feel like a prey… On the road, the sight becomes wider and wider, giving a sensation of constant more safety. We reache a small village, Omega III, where we want collect some water. Water is found but we also find half of the village totally drunk. It’s Sunday, not even 10 a.m. We leave the place as quick as we can. Sometimes I ask myself: Am I safer in the bush or in the villages ? The rain starts and we leave the park. Finally, the ride was no problem at all. On the left in the top of the hill, we have a look at the magnificient Okavango’s river, where we also going. Over there, it’s also pure, wild and real nature. Before going further, we stop in a service station and decide to celebrate with cold beers. Not so a good idea, we hardly leave and then realize that we still have almost 30 kilometers to do and the last are a very bad dirt road under water. The rain doesn’t stop either so we push the bicycle in the wet sand to the camping place. How can be all the time reasonable, sometimes it’s just good to do what you feel you’d like to do time to time...After two days, we start to be dry and we set out to cross this time, the National Park of Mahengo. Haven’t meet lions but this time there are fresh footprints on the ground…going in the same direction as us. There is a lot of them but I haven’t really took the time to look at it (probably at least 2 adults and cubs). When we get out, we haven’t seen any animals except a few birds. Here is the border to Botswana. It was my 7th National Park by bicycle during my African crossing and it will be the last one for sure. I’ve played enough, no more “cat’s and mouse’s game” and I especially played enough the role of the mouse.
After that, I feel better again and I’m gonna to be a real hardcore biker and I’m gonna to cruise on a relative high speed. I’m passing the Spreetsjoogte’s pass which is not high at all because I’m coming from the heights but then I’ve to dive in the Namib Desert. The view is gorgeous, in the front of me, lay a desert as far as the eyes can see. I start rolling down but the slope is such, that they paved the road. It’s for me a torture to go down and I almost kill myself. The bicycle is so heavy and the slope is such, that I have cramps on both arms while breaking. At each turn, I cannot stop and I always ask me if I will manage to survive the next turn... When I’m down, I’m happy but then I realize that I don’t have water any more. Then, my sudanese’s souvenirs come back, but here it’s different. In a way it’s easier in here because the civilization is never too far or maybe I’m just accustomed to this kind of life now. I arrive to the Solitaire, a service station and a store in the middle of nowhere. I buy some food, have a few cold drinks and even a beer and take the road again. A few hours after I meet some south African guys who are making a kind of video documentary. They travel with a 4x4, a mini Cooper and 2 small motor bikes. They just finished the desert’s race and recorded the journey as documentary. We decided to celebrate our meeting and they take the chairs out. We find ourself having a beer in the middle of the road. The few cars passing by look a little surprised... a mini cooper, 2 small motor bike, a bicycle full loaded like a donkey and people who quietly drink a beer in the middle of the road... The beers and the bicycle is not a good combination, especially at the end of the day when you’re tired. They leave me and after a few painful kilometers, I crash behind a small bushtree within a few meters from the road and sleep. No car will disturb my night, that’s the real Namibian magic: infinite spaces and always quiet. There’s almost nobody in this this country, 2 millions in a country much bigger than France. The following day I arrive in Sesriem. Here, you find the highest dunes in the world (equal to the dunes in Saudi Arabia). I’ve the surprise to meet the funny fellows from yesterday, the ones with the mini Cooper and they invite me to share their campsite. The night is long and animated and the morning is hard and misty... The jackals are numerous in these camps, accustomed to the tourists and easy food. All the night, I see them passing under my nose, a few centimetres of my head (I am in my mosquito net, with the case or a jackal decides to bite my head to check what it is). The following day, it’s again a new departure and when I’m riding: the mini cooper of my friends have a flat tyre.. The world is not that big, especially in the desert... But this time, everybody will take the road at his own pace and we are not gonna to meet again. At this time, I look at the sky and I realize that there’s only grey clouds everywhere. The wind rises, the road where I am become suddently catastrophic, corrugation: my nightmare ! But people I meet are so nice with me that it’s make it easy for me. Some of them give me water, cold beers, fruits, biscuits... even money! People are so nice with me that I forget all the sufferings and bad conditions. The night I spend it with 2 French guys I met in Sesriem the day before. We camp in the Namibrand Reserve, an exceptional place again. I offer the beers collected during the day and they make me a gift of a gas cooker! They save my life without knowing it. Since months, I’m just doing fire 2 times a day to cook. But the last 2 days I hardly find some food and (I still don’t know it) I’m not gonna to see wood for a few days…of course, I’m in the desert. People think that crossing a desert on a bike could be boring but everyday is an another day and each day will bring is own surprise. First the landscapes are incredible and often I can see animals (usually springboks, oryx, kudus, ostriches or jakcals), then the meetings with the people are everytimes unforgettable and then of course, I got a “little time” to be concentrate and lost in my thoughts. The rains start again, always more and more, everyday and the wind is always stronger and of course, it’s a frontal wind…After having slept in Beta and having survived a terrible night storm (I slept rolled up in my plastic cover, holding it all night long with one hand), I start to roll with the feeling that I’m gonna to meet a cyclist today. It’s a long time I haven’t meet any cyclist and I don’t know why but I’m sure I’m gonna to meet one. First I see a bicycle, but it’s a local cycling from a farm to an another. Then I see an another silhouette from far but it’s again a local on a horse. I was sure it was a cyclist. Later on, Again I see a silouhette, is it really a bicycle? And suddently, I hear a cry in English: Eh you swiss bastard! How do this guy know from where I come from? But, but, who is he? Dean, an australian traveler I met 3 months ago in Mozanbique. He has travelled for 2 years in Africa and told me that he would buy a bicycle in Cape Town and ride up the West coast. It’s not the first person who tell me he will travel by bicycle, but Dean, he did what he said! Finally, there’s more insane than me... We decide to stop here, in the middle of the desert and we camp together to tell our stories since Mozanbique. We arrive in the Sinclair’s farm and they offer us cold beer and a good meal. The Sinclair family show a great generosity and hospitality even if they don’t allow us to camp on the spot, they are a guest farm. We leave and decide to camp on the road’s side but we accidently take the wrong way and we arrive to an old mine place. We will camp here and start to cook and drink beer all night long while telling stories around the fire. The following day (we still don’t know that we really took the wrong road), we continue in the same bad direction. After a few kilometers we finally decide to turn back and push our bikes in the sand and at about midday we arrive again in the…Sinclair’s farm. We have to repair the Dean’s front rack and me I decide to take the opportunity to ameliorate my front rack as well. We find all the spare parts we are looking for but to weld it, we have to go to the next farm, his neighbor. We drive in their and quickly, everything is fixed and after a last night under the stars, we leave with a promise. We have to meet in a long time, South America in one and an half year with an insane project. I’m not gonna to tell more about that for the moment. We’ll see what’s happen in the future. I don’t even know if I would be in South America one day. We wish the other to have a nice back wind but the wind is frontal for me and apparently for Dean as well (I met him again 2 months later) Since now, There’s nothing really nice to see so I will ride from sunrise to almost sunset. I have 1200 kilometers left. I decide to cruise, begin the days early, get some short breaks during the day and a 30 minutes-1 hour lunch break and then stop the evening, little before the sun lay down. After Helmeringshausen, horror! Near the fences, a wounded springbok. The neck is broken, the springbok will die for sure. I come closer and I will never forget the glance on me, a glance full of fear, despair and at the same time innocent and gentleness. I offer my water, I almost have nothing left but I’m sure to find some very soon and me, I don’t have a broken neck. I empty my bottle by sprinkling the lips of the poor animal and the springbok drinks as he can, with a very thankful glance. I go back to my bicycle and take my big knife. I have to stop this suffering. Death is coming. If not the sun, it will be some hyenas or jackals. But when ? How long it will takes ? I come closer and sit down close to the springbok a few minutes. My eyes are wet but I decide to do it but just before the death penality, a car arrives. Farmers ! I stop them and they will load the animal on the car and they will kill it at home, to feed all the family and employees. That’s for sure the best it could happen, so I take again the road and …oh no, horror again ! There’s a young springbok completely thrown into a panic on the side of the road. I don’t know if it knows that he’s mother is not any more. I leave quickly before this young springbok break his neck against the fence. The panice makes you making stupid things… After 10 minutes, I see a bird crushed on the road and 3 youngs birds remain beside their dead mother.... What a day.... In a way, that’s for me the real Africa and in a way, it’s a bit like the all world: The life is a jungle and each day, you have to fight for your survival. Eaten or be eaten. The weak die, there is not enough space for everybody and this is especially true in Africa. I think that I finally did the worse after meeting good roads again, in asphalt but nothing is sure in life…. I wanted to go along the restricted diamonds area. This way should be bring in the heart of the Fish River Canyon but the rains took away a bridge. No go, so I change the route and intend to pass by Seeheim, another track through Fish River Canyon. I’m cycling and see a large dark cloud. I know how to handle it, I evaluate its direction, the wind and cycle fast to avoid it. No problem, I succeed. Tired because over here, it’s just up and down, up and down so I lay down and sleep a few minutes after the lunch. When I reopen the eyes… damned ! During my sleep, the wind change direction and the cloud is now almost on me. I stand up and I’m not on my bicycle that it already start to rain. I will have a frightening experience, maybe the biggest I ever experienced. I find myself in the desert, there’s absolute no shelter here, neither trees, neither houses, nor cavities in the rocks, nothing. The rain transform the road into a river, and then it’s a hail storm.The lightings fall everywhere, one fall less than 20 meters from me on my left. I am terrorized (and I’m not exaggerating while saying that I’M TERRORIZED). But then I feel like a hand in my back. Some people will say it’s the hand of god, but something help me and push me in the back. A extraordinary force who save me. That can sound stupid but it’s mayby one of the only time I got wind in the back and it’s now, when I really need it, it’s just amazing for me. I’m now in a middle of storm, cycling at about 50 km/h, I’m driving up the hills with the biggest gears. I do 40 km in less than an hour and I can hardly open the eyes but I know that I shouldn’t remaining here. The few cars in here don’t even try to pass me because they can hardly drive faster as well... at least, one of my best performance, I never cycle so fast during all my journey. I will remember me this moment for long. When I arrive tired but happy in Seeheim, the rain stops but not my nightmare: the road is closed as well! It is a dirt road and the rain makes a river and destroyed everything down the canyon. I have to continue on the asphalt and have to take the main road to Cape Town. It’s not a shorter way and I really wanted to enjoy nice and quiet road before being in South Africa but my destiny is other so on the same day, I cycle 70 more kilometers until Keepmanshoop. The city is under water, the people look amazed by the quantity of water everywhere, it’s never happen at least the last 10 years ! The people look at me like I’m coming from an another world. Mayby they’re right, I almost died, I’m wet like a fish and on a very strange bicycle full loaded….they are right, I come from an another world... I cannot leave the next day so I remain one more, the rain don’t stop. Everywhere on the news, is flooding and rain, especially where I am... When I set out, I feel my bicycle so heavy, how is it possible that I rode 150 km so fast two days ago? The wind, obviously, helped me a lot and from now, I got full provisions again. The road is narrow and the traffic is dense (not as much as it would be in Europe, but for me in Africa, it is dense, at least 20 vehicles per hour). The truck drivers that I learned to appreciate during this journey are all greeting and encourage me. They all hoot me, greet me, stand the fist in the air and I even meet a real AC/DC’s fan who looked at me and start to shake the head up und down while raising the 2 hands in the air... Thank you truck drivers ! Ofter those people help me: they often give the motivation to continue, offered me water, food or like hot tea during the Turkish and Syrian winte. They always provided me the best information, first hand. Their philosophies of life is about the same than mine, the one of a road’s gipsy. There’s still 300 km to the border. A bit boring road but nevermind, my head is flying in the clouds. I roll and the kilometers pass, I don’t even feel tired anymore. From now every day, I cycle more than 100 km, (between 120-140). Never I had such good asphalt roads like those. The last good ones were in Egypt, about 15' 000 kilometers further north... The evening, I have the luxery to have some of the best bivouacs I ever had. Incredible freedom, infinite, pure open spaces! Jackals are making noises the night, but here don’t come close. The springboks, the rock dassie, hares open my way and after a long downhill, I’m at the border. A border, one more, where the people look at me with big eyes and open mouth... Namibia, very soon I’ll be back for you. My Namibian story is still not finished !
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