Farewell to Benji

Stork at sunset
Originally uploaded by camandkristin

Travelling is all about the highs and lows. The highs are what make you set out in the first place but, ironically, its often the lows that create the best stories, the most lasting memories, and really solidify the reasons for travel. Maybe it’s a yin and yang thing. Anyway- you certainly can’t travel without your share of both, and in the last few days we saw that once again.

We started out on an absolute high- after leaving the rain and wind behind at Kande Beach, we crossed the border from Malawi into Zambia and headed into South Luangwa National Park. The campsite, appropriately named Wildlife Camp, is inside the park, 120km along a pretty horrendous stretch of dusty, potholed, and washboard road. The road is bad enough that many overlanding companies won’t send their trucks there- it was immediately obvious upon our arrival at the camp that we were very, very lucky that our company did. The campsite is set along the banks of the Luangwa River and has no fences or barriers of any kind to the rest of the park. Dozens of hippos laze in the river all day, and troupes of baboons and vervet monkeys run haphazardly through the campsite. Before dusk fell, Gareth reminded us that it is a “wild camp” and we must use caution in the dark, waving our headlamps in front and around us while walking around. After watching a gorgeous sunset we tucked in for the night, as we had an early morning wake up for a game drive. At 1am, we woke up to munching sounds, and looking out our tent window we saw an elephant standing not 6 paces from our tent, enjoying the branches of a tree under which Gareth’s tent sat. For the next 1.5 hours we watched and listened to elephants all around our tents- we could see two, but learned in the morning that there were four, including a baby. It was both amazing, and partially terrifying. Cam asked if I was already composing my blog entry, and I told him I just hoped I wasn’t composing the epitaph for my tombstone… I had always heard the stories of wild animals outside of tents in Africa, but always wondered if it really happened. Turns out it does.

In the morning we headed out in open topped vehicles for a morning game drive- although we didn’t see too many previously unseen animals, there were lots of great sightings and the park is a gorgeous backdrop for even the most “boring” of African animals (oh how spoiled we have become). After an afternoon off, we headed back out for a evening game drive- the first we’ve had here. Once the sun set, our tracker Issac used a heavy duty spotlight to scan back and forth across our path as we hunted for nocturnal animals. Although there were lots of elephants out, we didn’t stop to watch them as they are spooked by the lights and only the less classy drivers (of which there are some) stop. Besides- we were on the hunt for leopards. Not long into the search, Stu (one of our fellow passengers) spotted a leopard and our driver cranked the wheel. We had a quick glimpse before the leopard darted down a small bank and then mostly out of sight. Then he (the leopard) came back up on to the road, walked down the side for a while, crossed in front of the truck, and eventually out of sight. He was, quite possibly, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. We spent a while longer hunting for animals, and saw a rare fishing owl (the only owl that actually eats fish), a small genet, and then another leopard! This one was female, and much smaller, and gave us an equally good show before stalking off into the bush. All tolled, we have seen 4 leopards here which makes us extremely lucky- many people travel to Africa for the sole purpose of spotting a leopard, and go home empty handed. After the game drive (and a final sighting of a spotted hyena perhaps a little too close to our camp….) we returned for a late dinner to the sound of leopards calling on all sides of our camp. Gareth told us it was likely a female in heat, and two males responding to her calls. At one point, just before the last of us went to bed, I locked up the truck and then as we were heading to our tents we heard the most amazing roaring and growls. I immediately returned to the truck to unlock it, in case we needed to get in there, and fast! We were convinced it was a lion, but Gareth informed us in the morning that it was more likely the leopards “making contact”. Either way, the second night at Wildlife Camp was equally as exciting as the first…

The third day at camp was an adventure in mongoose…s… Mongeese? There had been two mongooses running around camp (think ferret like animal that are known for doing battle with large snakes) and on the final morning Gareth casually pet one as though it was a cat. Well- once we realized that was a possibility, the entire camp was petting them and scratching them under their chins and behind their ears. A few people had them crawling in their laps. At one point, one of them actually opened Gareth’s cigarette box, pulled out a smoke and ran off to attempt to eat it. It was pretty hilarious, because the day before Malin had attempted to pet one and everybody was on her case about how that was likely a poor idea and she was basically asking for a case of rabies. Flash forward 12 hours and now 14 people are cuddling up to these things like they are baby kittens.

Anyway, the final night was pretty uneventful- I think some hippos did come up from the river to graze in our camp, but nothing that actually woke us up. Our 5am wakeup call came fast, and we were back on the crappy road headed out of the park. Just over 2 hours into the drive, and nearing the end of the dirt road, the truck (who, by the way, is named Benji) stopped. Looking forward into the cab to see why, we could see smoke coming up from the shifter at Peter’s hand. Uh oh. We all spilled off the truck and the investigation began. Six local village kids joined us on the side, watching the drama unfold- eventually they helped us kill time by joining in a game of “basketball“ using a garbage can and volleyball. Another overlanding truck stopped for us and Manza, their guide, joined in to help which proved to be very useful. It became clear that the radiator was not doing it’s job- it was cold, while the engine was hot. After some time we learned that one of the hoses had burst- all the fluid had dumped out earlier down the road, thus leading to the truck overheating. Where, you might ask, was the engine temperature sensor that might have provided this valuable bit of information? Fair question. Answer = broken. Manza went all Macgyver on the truck and used a sardine can to repair the hose, we boiled a bunch of water to fill the rad, and then headed off- we knew the engine had suffered damage, but it was turning over and appeared to be ok. Within minutes it was clear we were burning oil- it was being pushed out of the damaged piston bores. Crap. Add oil. Drive more. Rad hose blows off- not at the sardine tin, but at another junction. Replace. Boil more water. Drive more. Truck stops. Boil more water. Repeat and repeat and repeat. We limped slowly the 60km from the first break down to the first campsite we could find- a process taking 8 hours. We were now 300km shy of our actual destination, with a truck that would go no further.

We are 24 days in to a 55 day journey- while we four depart at Vic Falls in 3 days, the crew and many of the passengers are carrying on all the way to Capetown. No Benji = big problem. At the moment, we are all sitting on a standard Greyhound style bus, cruising the 1100km from our last campsite to Victoria Falls. We have packed all our belongings, as well as all the gear from Benji, and left the truck and Peter behind. For the four of us in particular, things could be far worse- Vic Falls was our final destination anyway- so all we lose is the comfort of Benji for the trip there. For the rest, however, they lose the truck for the second half of their trip. They’ll be getting a new overlanding truck in Vic Falls, but it won’t be as nice as Benji- there simply aren’t any other trucks that nice out there. The number one reason everybody on this trip chose this company is for the truck- it offers a lot of comforts that aren’t standard, and as we’ve been on the road looking at other trucks, it’s very clear that they don’t compare. There is a chance that Peter can get Benji repaired- the engine (a Mercedes, by the way) needs to be re-bored and the pistons replaced (or so I hear) and I’m just not sure how easy, or fast, that is in a place like Zambia…

This is the second consecutive trip where the truck has had a total meltdown and left the crew scrambling to get their guests where they need to be, in a manner that doesn’t cause a complete revolt on the bus. I feel bad for them, and it seems unfair to blame the company- the roads here are hell on vehicles and its hardly surprising that they break, however, in our case at least, a working temperature sensor would have prevented the problem altogether…

Anyway, as I said- highs and lows. This low could have been a lot worse, and the high of South Luangwa National Park was, for us, worth it. Of all the places we have seen, there are a distinct few that have left a permanent mark on our souls- and this one, for sure, has done that.

Until next time…
Kristin and Cam

From Tanzania to Malawi

Stonetown girl
Originally uploaded by camandkristin

August 11 finds us sitting on the shores of Lake Malawi, on our 18th day on the overland tour. Ironically, we are currently sitting IN our truck, seeking shelter from the howling wind and blowing sand. Not exactly the “fun in the sun” lakeside experience we were expecting to have…

Since writing last, we departed Zanzibar and returned to Dar Es Salaam on a rough two hour sea journey that left 80% of the passengers ill and making good use of the sea sickness bags. The boat had barely left the harbour and they were passing out the black plastic bags labelled “Sick Bag”, which we took to be a bad sign. Fortunately everyone in our crew managed to get through the trip by moving outside and staring at the horizon- but it wasn’t the most pleasurable experience, made worse by the sounds of fellow passengers puking on all sides… (In fairness, the sea sickness may actually have been less painful than on the trip over to the island where the torture was two hours of a movie called “Vivian”. Plot line: girl is in car accident and loses both her parents and both her arms (picture actress with arms held behind her back and oversized tshirt to “conceal” them), mean Aunt and Uncle kick her out of the house and take her inheritance, boyfriend Felix leaves her for dirty skank Candy, Vivian cries (a lot, and loudly), Vivian finally gets her money back. Literally the worst movie ever- made even worse by the fact that we watched Part 2 before Part 1.)

After returning to our camp, Cam had an odd reaction to his sun exposure (probably combined with the doxy drugs) that left him feeling like a meth addict who needed to scratch bugs out from under his skin. Nothing but time seemed to soothe it, so it was a pretty uncomfortable night for him.

We left Dar and headed into Baobab Valley for a night which, although it had no real “event”, was a nice time where we ended around a campfire roasting marshmallows- we were blown away to learn that about half the people there had never roasted a marshmallow before! What the heck people?! Kristin was sure to demonstrate many, many times how it’s done :)

Next stop was Old Farmhouse- another intermediate point where we were treated to fresh homemade bread cooked over the campfire. After hearing the rave reviews of how wonderful (read: hot) the showers were, Cam and I headed off to what we hoped would be the first hot shower we’d had in days. Nope. Cold. Somehow we managed to hit the shower block during the ONLY time in the day when there was no hot water to be had (note that we are now on day 7 without a hot shower). And- in case you’re picturing this inaccurately- it is not hot in Africa right now. That night we were dressed in shoes, socks, pants, long sleeves, and fleeces, and huddling as close to the fire as possible, while still freezing.

We made another stop in Tukuyu for a trip to a tea farm, where the highlight was the little boy who ran straight up to Dad, grabbed his hand, and walked beside him hand in hand. It’s those spontaneous moments that are some of the most special- when we were walking in Stonetown, navigating through the labryinth of streets, I spied a little girl standing against the wall- her gold party dress quite a contrast with the stone walls and road. After I’d passed her and turned to wait for Cam and Malin, she looked at me and I smiled- she then cracked a huge grin and broke into a run straight for me, leaping into my arms. I held her for a while, but even when I put her down she dove back into my legs. Eventually I had to actually return her to her Dad- either that or find room for her in the truck and bring her home :)

Anyway- we crossed the border into Malawi yesterday after a slow, but simple, border crossing. Immediately all the kids have started yelling “Give me pen!” which is hard to hear as it carries with it a whole range of tough issues. Since we’ve been in Africa, the kids run to the truck as we drive by and wave and yell, and when we’re stopped they’ll often motion for things or food, but in Malawi this “Give me pen” line appears to have gone viral. I suppose we can only blame ourselves, though. At least they’re not yelling “Adopt me, Madonna!”…

Our first stop in Malawi was at another beachside campsite, similar to this one minus the wind… We spent our afternoon playing beach volleyball which was quite fun considering everybody was an equal level of bad.

Anyway- as you can see there hasn’t been any major “events” lately- the trip is in a bit of a transit stage, where we are enjoying moving through the landscapes and camping at a slightly more relaxed pace. We have 9 or 10 more nights, until we strike out on our own at Victoria Falls. That should bring a whole new type of experience- probably one where we eat worse and get lost more, but we’ll do it on our own schedule :)

That’s it for now…
Until next time,
Kristin and Cam.

Back to the truck.

Sunrise over the Serengeti
Originally uploaded by camandkristin

We've just spent 4 days on Zanzibar, soaking up the beautiful turquoise waters and, occasionally, the scorching sun. We're now back in Stonetown where we spent the day yesterday getting lost in the labryinthine streets. The history of this island is quite interesting, and the buildings are a photographer's mecca.

We catch a ferry back to Dar Es Salaam in an hour (after lunch at Freddy Mercury's restaurant- apparently he was from here...) and tomorrow we continue in the truck south to Malawi.

A few noteworthy things:

1. Our guide, Gareth, has a sand worm living in his toe. We have named him Tony.
2. One couple out of 7 has lost a tent pole. There's no prize for guessing who that couple is.
3. There is a girl on this tour (Malin) who is more organized and anal retentive than Kristin. I didn't think it was possible!
4. They say Hakuna Matata here. A lot.

Well, I guess that's it for now as our internet timer is ticking down...

Hakuna Matata, until next time ;)
K and C

Jambo! (That's Hello in Swahili...)

We’ve spent 12 nights in Africa so far, and have moved from Nairobi to Dar Es Salaam in Tanzania. Covering these distances requires spending a lot of our time in the truck; many days we leave camp at 6 or 7 in the morning, and pull into our next camp at 5 or 6 at night. I don’t mind this sort of travel- you get to see a lot while the road passes by, but you can’t help but feel that you’re missing much of what this place has to offer. There are many experiences to be had in Africa, and there’s no question that we’re having great ones, but it’s like listening to a great song, but having the bass line missing. Only hearing the treble allows you to catch the tune, but you’re distinctly aware that you’re missing the soul of it all. While our arrangements are far from luxury, they are still “isolated”- we don’t share local transportation, we don’t eat in local restaurants, and we don’t even deal with local hoteliers. It’s very different to the travel we’ve done before, but when I look around, it seems this is the way it is. Scanning buses full of people shows no white faces, and it’s hard to find hostels and restaurants which we are used to tripping over with our eyes closed. It’s just done differently here. There’s no doubt that you could do it more independently- I’m just not sure that I, at least, have the time or courage to do so….

All that said, the experience we are having here is still amazing in so many ways. Our truck normally holds 16 people (which is already small when compared with most tour companies down here) but two people bailed and we have only 14, plus three crew (driver, cook, and guide). Peter, our driver, is quiet and wears a tshirt that says Mzungo, which means “white person”, and has issues with the clutch on hills, but gets us around with only a few concerning moments. Ebron, our cook, has a cheshire cat smile and an infectious laugh, and is a trained pastry chef who manages to put together both amazing veggie and meat eater meals every night and somehow serves it all hot. It only takes 3 hours. Gareth, our guide, is a young South African with a degree in zoology and earth science, and is a skilled photographer packing a pretty serious lens that we’ve named Big G. Cam was lucky enough to borrow it for an entire game drive and I’m already feeling the dent in our bank account as I’m sure I can only stall the purchase for a while longer… I guess I’ll just be satisfied that he didn’t leave me for the lens… ;)

Aside from the crew we have six couples, and two singles. Brits, Aussies, Americans, us, and one Swede. The age range is 31 to 60-something. Dad actually had his 60th birthday the other night, and Ebron baked a multi layer cake over a fire and decorated it with frosting, including piped letters and rosebud trim. Quite a feat in a dustbowl campsite with no oven…

As for what we’ve actually been up to- after pulling out of Nairobi on the 25th, our first stop was Lake Nakuru, where we suffered a couple of days in the pouring rain. That wasn’t a great start to 2 months of camping, and I won’t lie- moods weren’t awesome… We did have a good game drive through Nakuru National Park where, within 30 seconds of being in the park, our Land Cruiser driver had us in a ditch buried in mud and requiring rescue. Fail. The rest of the day was smooth and we managed to spot rhinos (black and white), a trillion flamingos, lions, and other misc game.

After departing Nakuru we left Kenya and drove to the shores of Lake Victoria, where the sun was shining and a breeze was blowing so our soggy tents and mattresses dried up. At the border crossing, the Kenyan agent looked at my Dad and said “Say Hi to Stephen Harper for me.” Awesome.

Our next two days were driving through the Serengeti- a stunningly beautiful section that, for me at least, exemplified the “Africa” of my imagination. The highlight of a day of highlights was a leopard spotting- we found a female in a tree, lounging on a branch about 25m away, with her impala kill slung over a branch above her. We left her that night and returned in the morning and found her still there, munching on her breakfast. Cam strapped the Big G to his body, pumped it, and fired. Literally.

Our animal sightings became so frequent that we began to filter- “Is it a lion bringing down an elephant? No? Drive on.” “Is it a pack of hyenas playing cards? No? Yawn.” Just before leaving the Serengeti we did stop to watch two male giraffes necking- no, not that - they were fighting, flinging their massive heads on their neck “whips” and smashing them into each others bodies. Seems like the least effective fighting method ever, with more risk of snapping your own neck than injuring your opponent, but who’s going to argue? And all for the love of a woman…

A few more days in the truck, a few more dozen hours on washboard dusty roads, and another game drive in the Ngorongoro crater (where we added cheetahs and servals to our list) brings us to today- en route to Dar Es Salaam and the eden (we hope) of Zanzibar.

As we’ve been driving, we were just pulled over for speeding. Looks like Peter got us out of it. Hard to believe a 19 tonne truck could be speeding in a village where bone shaking speed bumps exist every 3 feet, and even harder to believe that any police force in this country actually cares…

Yesterday’s “Fun in the Truck” started when we ran out of diesel about 10m from the station. Wait for Gareth to take water bottles to the station to fill up. Pour it in. Truck won’t run. Bleed the air from the lines. Sputter across the road into the station. Leave truck running while filling. Take 20+ minutes to fill the tank. Reach 999,999 shillings on pump readout. Reset readout. Keep filling. Final fill volume = 620L. Final cost = 1.2 million shillings (roughly $650).

Anyway, that’s surely enough for now… Hopefully we can post this when we hit Zanzibar, in between avoiding lion-fish induced death and Doxycycline induced sunburns.

Bye for now,
K and C.