Elephants, Crocodiles and Gorge-Swinging, Oh My!

The Journey:

The bus was a typical coach bus with two main differences from its American equivalents  One: no on-board toilet for the twelve-hour journeys without guarantee of any bathroom stops (and, knowing about this advance, I had pretty much stopped drinking anything for hours before the ride).  Two: the seats were probably two-thirds of the size of your average economy-class airplane seat, aka WAY TOO SMALL.  We were lucky, though – some passengers stood in the aisle until the first drop-off point, more than an hour from Gaborone.

It was an overnight journey, so the plan was definitely to sleep.  For me, sleeping on a bus never amounts to more than the occasional shut-eye until my head nods too suddenly and my neck screams.  But this was worse than it had to be: for the ENTIRE journey during which 95% of the passengers were clearly trying to sleep, the bus driver played the most aggravating music on the planet, a consistent reggae beat which was too twitchy to allow anyone to relax.  Worst of all was the song “Wake Up, Suzy” was either played over and over again or just lasted twenty minutes longer than it should have.  I guess I don’t know its actual title but, as “Wake Up” and “Suzy” were the only lyrics, I assume it’s a pretty good guess. 

At some point in the middle of the night, the bus stopped in the middle of the road and everyone had to get off.  Most of our group got off behind a crowd of people who, one-by-one, all stepped through a two-by-two ft wet pile of rags surrounded by bricks.  This was the infamous foot-and-mouth stop we had heard about, the brilliant solution to the spread of the disease: get off bus, clean shoes, return to walk on bus where you just walked with dirty shoes…Hmm.  Anyway, Isaiah and Bugsy got off the bus without anyone directly in front of them, so they walked past the rags only to have a bus official yell at them to return.  Athena and James began shouting, “Did you not have detailed enough instruction on what to do??  Were the directions not clear enough??”  This was hilarious even to the locals who had previously been rolling their eyes at the confused Americans; everyone had to admit that there had been absolutely no instruction whatsoever, and stepping in a wet pile of rags is hardly instinctive!

Safari day:

On Friday we were up at the crack of dawn to begin our safari drive at 6:30am.  When our driver, KG, arrived, we enthusiastically piled into the game drive truck only to find that the engine would not turn on.  We thus began the day by pushing the vehicle that was supposed to take us by lions and elephants.  Great.  The company we booked through, Dream Safari, was fortunately fantastic (and cheap!) and they got us onto a backup truck before we entered the Chobe Game Reserve.  We spent almost five hours driving around looking for animals and, despite having spent longer in the Kruger Park, last year I wasn’t bored at all.  Highlights included hearing the hippos (whose noise sounds like a deep, slow evil laugh), being surrounded by about twelve elephants including one wary mother elephant guarding her baby, and getting out of the truck on a small beach just to have tea.   

Next we went to Kazungula, the meeting of the Chobe and Zambezi rivers and the water border between not two but four countries: Botswana, Zambia, Zimbabwe and Namibia.  We had no idea that, once there, we would be able to jump on a vehicle-transport ferry across to Zambia for no cost at all, as long as we didn’t go through customs on the Zambian side.  While still on the shore we noticed about eight canoes out in the water, each rowed by one man who would rush to the ferry as it was about halfway to Zambia, load his canoe with boxes, and then row away.  KG told us they were smugglers, paid by those on the ferry to transport the goods around the customs check at which the ferry passengers had to stop.  So illegal, yet the policemen on shore made no attempt to discourage it!

In the evening we enjoyed a relaxing three-hour sunset boat cruise on the Chobe River.  Apart from some more elephant close-ups, nothing terribly exciting happened until all the other passengers disembarked and the driver suddenly revved up the boat and jetted just the six of us off to a tiny island with no actual dock to speak of.  Where were we?  Namibia!  The only thing on the island was a rundown and certainly closed bar, but no fear because KG had two friends waiting for us who opened it up, if you call opening the door to let us in and grabbing us huge beer bottles to go all without turning the lights on, “opening.”  Such a hilariously wonderful surprise!

Lots of epicness in one day:

Waking up at 5:30am on Saturday, we made it to the Zimbabwean border right when it opened at 6am.  I don’t know if I’d ever been blatantly discriminated against before, but while my American friends paid $30 each to cross, I had to pay $55 for being British.  The Canadian price was even higher!  (Because Zimbabwe’s currency inflated to a point at which people were regularly paying millions at the grocery store, they now use US dollars.  Thanks to some really pushy Zimbabwean vendors who literally followed us around, we all purchased some of the old currency and are now all billionaires.  Hooray!)

The main point of our day was to see Victoria Falls, the world’s largest waterfall.   The falls were certainly breathtaking, and Bugsy came up with the best word to describe the scene: “Might”.  The mist from the falls was so intense that at some of the lookout spots we couldn’t actually see anything other than white cloud all around us, only the roar of the falls confirming that they were actually still right there.  Needless to say, we got soaked!

Just seeing the falls was not enough, however.  Four of us did the gorge swing and the Sarahs did the zipline.  What is a gorge swing?  Well, after being harnessed up to many, many different ropes as well as being harnessed to another person (in my case, Athena), you walk to the edge of a small wooden platform.  It’s a bit like walking the plank but instead of being at the edge of a ship you’re just teetering on the edge of a massive cliff, staring across at a wide gorge and down at the churning river.  Five, four, three, two, one, and you jump.  For the first three seconds, you’re falling completely free of any support, screaming higher, louder and longer than you ever have in your life, certain that you’ve lost your mind because you can’t possibly survive this.  Then the ropes that have so far fallen with you pull tight against their starting point about halfway across the gorge, way back up at cliff level, and you fall into a gliding swinging motion as you sail across the river, now totally calm and in absolute ecstasy, not screaming but hollering with joy.  Without a doubt, the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life.  I believe a video will be available on facebook at some point!

In comparison, whitewater river rafting might sound rather tame but it occupied a full afternoon and was perhaps more pure fun overall.  Our boat guide, BK, gave us a quick talk on instructions and safety but it didn’t seem totally comprehensive.  He told us how to get back in the boat if we fell out, and informed us that crocodiles are not vegetarians, yet didn’t have much advice on what to do if a crocodile was present when we fell out other than “try to swim fast”.  Reassuring.  Anyway, I quickly discovered that rafting is one of the most amazing experiences out there: so relaxing on the calm sections of the river when we could admire the towering cliffs and so thrilling on the rapids when we were rocked from side to side and smacked in the face with cold waves.  The rapids all had very amusing names like, “The Devil’s Toilet Bowl” or “The Terminator.”  There was one massive wave that so nearly seemed to flip the boat over, but we all actually managed to stay in and upright.  We did jump out for a voluntary swim when BK said it was okay, but the lingering fear of crocodiles kept it short.  Equally fun as the rafting was the surprise rock climbing we had to do to avoid one section of the river.  I am determined to go rafting again, soon!      

All in all, one of the best weekends ever.  Thanks to my fellow Gabbers for making it so wonderful!