Travel Story (Continued)

Day 8

We continued our journey through the vast Chobe Reserve. Black elephants with short tusks, characteristic of this reserve, crossed our path, along with a wide variety of birds and large groups of antelopes and giraffes surrounding us. Mist navigates confidently through the reserve’s trails, clearly having worked in the reserve before and becoming an independent guide. After about 320 kilometers in the heart of the reserve, we reached Mababe Gate, the southern exit from the reserve. Mist continues driving for another 15 kilometers of sandy trails until we reached a dirt road by a riverbank, where we unloaded the motorcycles and equipment. Mist and his companions turned the Toyotas towards the reserve. When we asked where they were headed, they simply replied, "Returning to Kasane, today." We wished them success. These people have a different scale for distances, and one needs to adapt to the vast expanses of this country.

 

We mounted the motorcycles and began an off-road ride of about 110 kilometers to the nearest town, Maun. Along the way, we passed picturesque villages where the village women offered for sale one of Botswana’s symbols – a handmade, colorful wicker basket with spiral graphic elements. Each such element represents a different animal: a zebra's eye, a gecko's back, an elephant's trunk, and so on.

 

The rain begins to drizzle again, and we urge the motorcycles forward. Since Botswana is flat, it's easy to spot the rain clouds from afar and plan our escape route. In Maun, we stayed at a lodge named Island Safari Lodge, recommended by the Lonely Planet guidebook. The book contains invaluable information and is always within our reach. This lodge certainly earned its place in the book's recommendations.

Day 9

A day dedicated to rest and planning the route for the following days. The lodge where we stayed is the oldest in the area, established in 1973. It is located in an excellent spot in the middle of a semi-tropical forest on the banks of the Thamalakane River. To reach the lodge’s entrance, we had to ride a magical 2.5-kilometer dirt trail through the forest. In the forest, where the rooms and restaurant are located, monkeys, squirrels, and birds roam freely. A pasta box that had fallen out of one of the motorcycle boxes, with its contents scattered, attracted a whole family of monkeys, who ate just three meters away from me while performing impressive acrobatic tricks in front of the camera.

 

Laone, the receptionist at the lodge, arranged two rooms for us at a special price. In exchange, I invited her to join us on a motorcycle tour. We toured the city and its surroundings. No one paid us any special attention. The sight of a white guy with a black girl doesn't really attract attention. This is the kind of mental freedom Botswana is blessed with. Maun is the fifth largest city in Botswana, with a population of about 44,000 people, and is considered the tourist capital. However, in the eyes of the country, it is still officially considered a village. Most of the residents make a living from tourism, cattle farming, and agriculture. Due to its location near the large nature reserves, Maun's airport, which mainly serves small and medium aircraft, is busier than the main airport in Gaborone, the capital city.

Day 10

We left Maun and got onto the A3 road. A policeman stopped me and signaled me to come over. "You were driving 140 instead of 120," he told me. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I was driving that fast," I replied. "I’m giving you a fine of 650 Pula," he said. "Let me check if I have that amount," I responded. I crossed the road, pretended to rummage through my things, and returned to him. "I only have traveler’s checks and a credit card, I don’t have much cash on me." "How much do you have?" he asked, greedy and impudent. "I have 50 Pula. Can you give me a receipt so I can claim tax back?" "Where are you from?" he asked. "From Israel." "When are you going to make peace with the Palestinians?" he tried to divert my attention, but I recognized the opportunity. I stood next to him and started a fiery speech: "Our disagreements are not about land. They are about religion. Religion can never be agreed upon. No nation will adopt the religion of another. Therefore, there will never be peace between us. But if we do manage to make peace, there will be peace all over the world." The policeman looked at me, his hands scratching his head from the headache starting to form. He handed me my license, sent me on my way, hoping I wouldn't say another word. I crossed the road and, with a half-smile, signaled to my friends to start the engines. Sometimes, telling the truth can save you from robbery.

 

To avoid a long road trip, we turned off-road near Lake Ngami. The recent rains had turned the lake into a lagoon, and the trails disappeared beneath it. Based on the size of the fish the locals had caught there, we realized that this lagoon had been around for several months, and there was no chance of crossing this area. We returned to the road and continued towards the city of Ghanzi, a long road trip of about 300 kilometers. Along the roadside, we encountered many cows, donkeys, and, occasionally, horses. These animals, without safety fences along the road, pose a safety hazard to vehicles in general, and motorcycles in particular. The animals are not afraid of the noise of passing vehicles and don’t even glance or move when a motorcycle honks at them. Africa knows how to keep you alert.

 

Ghanzi today is a ghost town, with a sense that it was once more central. Today, it is considered the capital of the Kalahari Desert, and it's not uncommon to see 4X4 off-road monsters, loaded with equipment and people, on their way to and from the desert. On the main street, there is a souvenir shop where people from nearby villages sell their goods. We bought bread and sausages at the local supermarket, which was experiencing a power outage that no one seemed surprised by, and sat down to make sandwiches. After a few bites of the strange sausage, we tossed it to a street dog who was hanging around. The dog sniffed a bit and preferred to continue rummaging through a nearby trash can. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. Maybe we should have done the "dog test" before this lunch.

 

We spent the night at a campsite outside Ghanzi. While we were considering whether to enter the lodge's swimming pool, a heavy rain poured down on us. We decided to pass the time with Botswana's excellent beers and a group of locals who seemed determined to finish the place's beer stock. After dinner, which always includes steak and beer for some reason, we retreated to our tent. A local ostrich (not an emu, a common mistake) kept watch over us all night and entertained us in the morning.

Day 11

Today, we plan to taste a bit of the Kalahari Desert. The desert is about 900,000 square kilometers in size, mostly in Botswana, and its name means "the great thirst." However, its average annual rainfall is over 250 millimeters, which means that most of it isn’t a true desert. The Kalahari serves as the main habitat for the Bushmen, probably the oldest inhabitants of southern Africa, whose language includes "clicks" as consonants. The fuel tanks on the motorcycles allow for about 300 kilometers of travel, so we couldn’t go too deep into the desert. 4X4 vehicles are instructed to carry an additional 100-liter fuel tank, in addition to the vehicle's original tank, before being allowed to enter the desert.

 

Our route covered about 100 kilometers through the desert terrain until we reconnected with the A2 road. The rain from the previous day had solidified the sand, giving us a perfect riding day without dust. We were already accustomed to the motorcycles, and the rocky/sandy terrain flowed smoothly beneath the suspension. The BMW motorcycles we rented have the option to electrically adjust the suspension from the handlebars and disable the ABS and ASC systems. After getting familiar with the different settings, we found harmony with the motorcycle and could flow with the trail. When we reached this state, it felt like we were part of the landscape, passing through it rather than beside it, unlike a 4X4 vehicle where the landscape passes by through the windows like a television screen. Pure pleasure.

 

On this day, we covered more than 500 kilometers, the longest distance of the trip. As evening approached, we arrived in Jwaneng, a large, modern city, like other cities we’re starting to encounter as we head south and approach the border. Due to a lack of room in the city's lodges, we rented a room in a hotel and fell exhausted into bed. Of course, not before a dinner that included juicy steaks and cold beers. The food price was so ridiculous that it would have been a crime not to celebrate after such a long ride.

Day 12

Our main goal today was to reach the city of Mafikeng in South Africa, about 300 kilometers from Jwaneng. We crossed the border smoothly, with the guards mostly asking us questions about the motorcycles. They were quite impressed by their size, considering the average local vehicle is often small.

 

South Africa welcomed us with a new level of sophistication. The roads were much better than those we had encountered in Botswana. Even though the land in South Africa is just as desolate, we could feel the difference. Even the cows here seem more pampered, and the vehicles pass by more quietly. Soon, we reached our destination, Mafikeng, a city with a more "civilized" look compared to the last few days. As we passed through it, we recognized that this was truly an end of the journey for us in southern Africa. We arrived just in time to celebrate with a South African meal and a cold beer.