Hartebeespoort to Nata, Botswana
05/12/10
For 13-and-a-half hours our van reared and bucked, from dodging giant potholes in South Africa to near slamming into jaywalking donkeys and cows in Botswana. Customs was lazy and easy both leaving South Africa and entering Botswana, where border staff were no more motivated than dairy cows.
Our van was filled with a formerly-dating German couple, and to my surprise, five college-aged Americans. Although Canada has only about 10 per cent of the USA’s population, we tended to come across more Canadians on this trip, which I think explains the narrow mindset of many of our neighbours down South who could benefit from travel. I like most Americans, don’t get me wrong, but two from this crew were about as friendly as a hemorrhoid.
I knew they were American immediately not by their accents, but by their constant use of the word “like”, reminding me of my friend Robin back home. I like totally felt like slapping that like word out of their heads and like injecting their brains with pronouns. Sorry. It is just the writer in me. I do not think everything in the world is a simile.
Boxie-boo’s face was a portrait of exhaustion. At times she slept across my lap, looking up occasionally with a glass reflection of light flickering under her eyelid. With her head near an open window, Choppa-chaw descended into the layer’s of wind with a half-smile that never left her face. Outside Africa flattened, the sky expanded in star light like diamonds in still water, while the van galloped down roads where the heated concrete was only interrupted by gusts of wind.
After spending an entire day in a hot van without air-conditioning, we reached the path to the Elephant Sands Lodge. Then got stuck in the sand, one kilometre from the campsite. We took off the trailer, then pushed out the van, the tires spinning and spraying sand.
Myself and three American boys waited by the trailer while the girls and Germans were driven to camp. It was spooky on a sand road listening to the sound of elephants trumpeting and warthogs grunting. The constellations were upside down. Breezes from the bushes made us fear the possibility of animals.
Twenty minutes later, our driver David returned with a Landrover and forgot the trailer hitch, which meant we left the trailer behind. We bounced down the road confirming the sounds by spotting a large elephant with two-foot long tusks clambering through the bushes.
“If that elephant came up to us by the trailer, I would have shat my pants,” said Bob from New York. I was beginning to like this guy.
After eating wild impala stew for dinner, we set up our tents in darkness at 10 p.m., listening to an elephant bathe itself in a nearby pond.
That’s all for now.
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