With time dwindling on our visas, we had to hit the tar and make some ground. We'd decided to spend our last Namibian days in one of the world's last free-range wildlife habitats. Straddling 4 countries and some huge names in wildlife (words like Okavango, Zambezi and Chobe), the Caprivi Strip is an incredible spot for the animals that abound. Having put the foot down from Etosha, would could spend a few days taking it more slowly and taking it all in. With trees, greenery and swamps in our midst, our first camp was so close to the riverside we listened to Angolans singing across the Okavango from our tent. A small spotted genet joined us for dinner, providing even more entertainment. The next night, outside Bagani, Angolan singing was traded for the cacophony of sounds coming from the mouths of hippos.
For 3 nights and 3 days we listened to grunts, growls, babbles and burps that wouldn't have been out of place in a Jurassic Park film. Whilst eating, bathing, lounging or sitting on the throne we were treated to views of hippos and elephants in the river or near it. The outdoor toilets and baths had prime position on the waterfront. A snake at head height greeted girl at the mirror one afternoon. She called guy to come and see, but realized her mistake when he rounded the corner and nearly met with fangs in his forehead. (Note: give clear warnings first!)
A few k's down the road was Mahongo National Park. The perfect spot for some more game spotting. Perching at a waterhole was like trying to watch 7 different NatGeo programs at once. Elephants took up the most space, drinking, playing and making a mess. A few roan antelope strolled warily up, when out of the bushes strutted a bigger, manlier roan. He gave chase to his two younger foe, who took off back the way they'd come. A herd of zebra weren't bold enough to approach while the elephants were around, so they gathered near the bushes looking nervous. In loped a sable. He wasn't phased by anyone, and promptly lay down in the sun. A teenage elephant tried to pick on some warthog, but they only moved a little way. Tails in the air and an attitude of mischief about them. Ele turned his attention to the zebras, who fled when when he flapped his ears at them. The sable gave a good 'fuck off' look with his horns down, so everyone left him to it.
While the teenage elephant lived out his rebellious phase to our right, the roan who'd just asserted his dominance wandered back from the left looking very chuffed with himself. Until the elephants gave him a look. We giggled because on the fringes, zebra, impala, roans and lots of other 'lesser' antelope congregated and waited patiently for the elephants to go.
It did take ages.
Eventually we figured we'd seen enough and thought we'd move on too. We started the engine, drove closer to the elephants and then they turned our way. We're in a big car, but they are ENORMOUS up close. So we backed up super fast and waited on the fringes with the other lesser beasts.
Once the elephants did finally leave, a kind of peace ensued, where zebra, kudu, sable, roan, warthog and impala politely took their fill of the h20. There were mummies and babies. Some buffalo came down. It was all very Eden-like.
Until a cute grey bird gave a kind of surprised little gasp beside us, as a hawk nailed it in mid air. It landed with a thump beside the car, pulling the feathers from his twitching cousin and spilling innards on the grass. It killed the eden vibe quick smart. Mother nature is bad ass! Our distaste for the hawk's graphic display soon turned to pity for him. The second he finished plucking his dinner, an even bigger bad ass bird flew down and stole it! Poor guy.
But by this time we'd been 2 hours in one spot. Whilst there were still NatGeo-worthy scenes happening all around, we weren't about to risk the wrath of another gate official! So we left, skipping through the exit with 10 minutes to spare.
Over the next few days we camped in more parks with gorgeous views and soundtracks,
but there are a few highlights worth mentioning. Accidentally rounding a corner and surprising another elephant meant that for the second time in 2 days those massive beasts had the adrenalin pumping! This time we were actually screeched at. Not a sound you want to hear up close and not an experience to be repeated! Things were more sedate at night time, when the herd wandered quietly into the camp to crunch and munch on the bushes around us.
At Rupara we had time for an afternoon stroll, barefoot down the sandy road towards Mamili National Park. The sun was setting, the air was cool and life was perfect. Emotions ran quickly from daydreaming bliss to absolute terror. A cloud of dust, a growl and the whipping that grass makes when things race through it. Girl froze in horror. There was barely enough time to register that the creatures tearing our way were warthogs, before they split and fled 3 ways. From that, we learnt that warthogs live in holes (who knew!?). They reverse into them at night time and happily take on whatever is stupid enough to approach them. Fast!
Also worth mentioning is Elvis at the Lizuali traditional village. Ever since leaving the Skeleton Coast, villages have been scattered at regular intervals. With various versions of stick frames and natural renders, they really are picture perfect. Every village contains a collection of dwellings, a gathering place and a corral for the livestock. Nearby there are usually small fields with natural fences around them. As we drive past we get to see tiny snapshots of people's lives: how and where water is collected, the tending of fields and livestock, oxen being used for carrying or pulling, donkeys, goats and shepherds. Often there are traditional foods, drinks or artworks for sale. Each village seems to have a specialty and different 'honesty shops' are set up along the roadsides.
One thing is universal: the sound of an approaching vehicle is guaranteed to result in kids running from everywhere. Out of houses, across fields and over fences they race, arms outstretched and calling 'sweetie, sweetie!!!'. For weeks this has gone on. (We think that German tourists must visit Namibia with cars full of lollies to hurl through the windows as they go by!) When we ditch the car and walk through a village though, the kids yelling and begging for sweets are all big eyed and shy at the sight of us! Silent!
Anyway, a sign marking "Lizuali traditional village" piqued our interest. Tired of tourists showing up to their homes to take pictures, the community built an entire village that no one lives in, next to their real village. They employ people to go about the business they'd usually be doing at home, so that tourists can see, walk around in and take pictures of everything, without upsetting anyone. It sounds aweful and touristy, but it was fantastic! The money they make after paying wages and maintenance goes into a community trust, and the proceeds benefit everyone. Community based enterprises are common in Namibia and we've visited many in the shape of lodges, campsites and conservancies, but this one was a favourite. A favorite because even though it sounds like a tourist show, it really wasn't. For starters, Elvis introduced himself to us on the main road when we pulled over, explained he was the guide and asked if he could hitch with us the few k's to the village. We thought it was a scam. It wasn't. He was the real guide and he was brilliant!
As we showed up, the rest of the staff made their way up from the river. (When there's no tourists, they're fishing for that night's dinner). So, we paid our fees, got an official receipt and then Elvis began. He showed us everything from grain storage and handling, to chicken coops. Rat and cat traps to blacksmithing. Basketry, water collection, beer making and music. We met a real medicine man and a pretend grandma. Learned which jobs men did and which ones were for women. The authenticity was cemented when we asked where the blacksmith gets his metal. The answer? Dead cars! To prove it, he showed us the leaf springs of an old toyota that were about to become an axe head. He explained that traditionally, before villages had a modern-day blacksmith, the local handyman would craft his goods from bone with stone tools. But things are moving with the times, in their own unique way. The village chief still has remarkable power today and the medicine man is still number one for healthcare. "Except for if you're banged up bad like for a car crash or something. Then you are going to the hospital".
The medicine man shook our hands and welcomed us. As we left, Elvis explained that he'd seen our journey. He says that all will go well until we get back to our own countries.
And so with a blessing on what's to come, we farewelled Namibia.
Up next: We really do go to Botswana