163 CYCLE TOURING ZAMBIA

 Shenanigans on a bike - By Leana Niemand

BOTSWANA (2) & ZAMBIA (2)
 1346 Kilometres - 28 Days 

13 April – 10 May 2022

PHOTOS

 

13 April – Katima Mulilo, Namibia – Muchenje Campsite, Botswana – 101 km

Shortly after 8 a.m., Linda and I biked out of the sad-looking town of Katima on our final ride in Namibia. The area was pan flat, and one could understand why the Chobe River forms such a considerable floodplain.  The going was effortless and we reached the Namibia-Botswana border early. Crossing into Botswana was smooth sailing, and we continued to Muchenje camp, situated on a large swampy area sporting an abundance of birdlife. Linda had enough of pitching her tent and chose one of the already pitched tents, which offered a few luxuries. Her upgrade was most likely due to the campsites being grassless and pitch dark.

Later we cycled to a nearby shop, bought a few beers and sat on the deck until darkness fell.

 

14/15 April - Muchenje Campsite – Kasane – by car

As riding through the Chobi National Park wasn’t possible, Linda organised a pick-up to take us to Kasane. Linda again opted for comfortable accommodation in town, and I preferred the Thebe campsite. At least, this time, it sported a lush lawn and covered area.

The best time of the morning was spent doing the usual rest day chores and buying a Botswana SIM card.

After much deliberation, it was decided to stick to Linda’s original plan to cycle directly from Kasane to Victoria Falls.

 

16/18 April – Kasane, Botswana – Livingston, Zambia - 83 km

At around 8.30 a.m., I met Linda and biked the short distance to the Botswana/Zambian border via the new bridge. The bridge is quite impressive and makes the old ferry obsolete. The crossing was uncomplicated but it still took longer than anticipated. Eventually, we got going and, as always, I found my new country fascinating.

Zambia is the first country since leaving Cape Town where I saw the bicycle in daily use. The Zambians seem to bike more than people from other countries and use their bikes to transport goods to the market. Roadside stalls sold interesting squashes or pumpkins (not sure what), sugarcane and charcoal. The people we met during the day were super friendly and made us instantly feel at home.

The easy pedalling made for an early arrival in bustling Livingstone, where we opted to bunk down at the popular Jollyboys Backpackers.

The following morning, Linda and I visited Victoria Falls, where the abundance of summer rain sent such a large amount of water downstream and over the falls, one could hardly see due to the spray. The raincoats rented at the entrance came in handy as the fog was so severe it felt like we were caught in a massive downpour.

 

19 April – Livingston – Zimba – 80 km

Linda packed for her return flight to the USA and I prepared to pedal onwards to my next destination, Malawi, more than 1000 kilometres away. I was in no hurry as I planned on cycling half days to make the best use of my time in Zambia. Not much happened during the day except for markets selling veggies, charcoal and wood. People were super friendly and interested in where I was from and where I was heading. Midday, I pulled into Zimba, a tiny community featuring basic lodging. The Trekking guesthouse offered rooms at a mere 150 kwacha and included welcoming and helpful staff and staying; hence, a no brainer.

 

20 April – Zimba – Choma – 114 km

Winter was fast approaching, and the temperature a mere 15°C riding out of Zimba. The way was gently undulating, but a stiff breeze slowed the pace considerably. At least the temperature improved, but it remained cold as I didn’t think the mercury ever rose above 26°C.

The route led past peaceful villages, roadside vendors selling fresh veggies and jovial Zambians on bicycles. A few were carting produce while others gave people a ride to their destinations. Others were collecting or drying grass to be woven into sleeping mats or used in the building of traditional huts.

Towards the end of the day, the weather came in and I was mighty pleased to reach Choma without getting soaked. A room at the Choma Hotel came at 175 – 250 kwacha, and thus no need to look any further.

 

22 April – Choma – Monze – 102 km

Emerging from the room, I discovered the rain had subsided, thank goodness. Pedalling out of Choma, the clouds were still lying low but, fortunately, it never rained.

The route was dotted with small but busy villages where I was greeted with big toothy smiles and friendly greetings of “Welcome to Zambia” and “have a safe journey.” It brought a smile to my face.

Roadside markets sold pottery, drums and wooden sculptures. Although I stopped to chat, they understood I couldn’t buy anything. They looked surprised that one could cycle from Cape Town, and I considered it better to inform them of my route around the world.

Reaching the small town of Monze, I opted for a room as the city is a mere 180 kilometres from Lusaka, and I didn’t want to rush. On enquiring about a guesthouse, I was walked there by a friendly Zambian who further accompanied me to the supermarket. My shopping drew much attention, and whatever was placed in the basket was observed with great interest. As can be expected, the poor man was bombarded with questions, and on asking him what was said, he explained they wanted to know where he met the white woman. Hahaha!

 

23 April – Monze – Mazabuka – 62 km

I dragged my heels a tad as I waited for the sun to warm the air and, as a result, it was 9 o’clock before I pointed the bike in the direction of Lusaka.

The sun came out, and so did the butterflies and the flowers, making for pleasant biking. Sadly, the excellent road enjoyed to date deteriorated and turned into a narrow potholed affair. Still, the pleasant conditions prevented me from losing my sense of humour, and I stopped numerous times to snap a few pics. Taking pictures of people usually resulted in them running away or running towards the camera, but mostly they want money.

Villagers were cutting and collecting the tall grass growing by the side of the road. Not only does the African savanna contain a diverse community of organisms that interact to form a complex food web, but it provides ample grazing for livestock. The grass is further widely used in rural housing and the making of brooms, brushes and other household items.

 

24 April – Mazabuka – Kafue – 83 km

I was nearly fooled into thinking the ride would be downhill, but alas, that wasn’t the case. There weren’t as many villages as the previous day and I pushed on to Kafue. Besides informal markets selling woven baskets, mats and other items, not much happened. The main reason for overnighting in Kafue was spotting a Pick-n-Pay as it seemed all I did was cycle and eat. A secondary reason was that I intended to meet Caron in Blantyre on May 21 and it was far too early.

The problem with stopping early was I seemed to eat my way through the remainder of the day. I’ve developed a taste for Nshima, one of Zambia's staple foods. Maise or corn is the most popular staple, and Nshima makes up the main component of Zambian meals. It’s made from corn flour and usually served accompanied by a "relish" stew and vegetables, and I noticed it’s often eaten by hand. Known as pap at home.

Most interesting was the next-door mosque and disco which seemed in competition.

 

25/27 April – Kafue – Lusaka – 45 km

I must’ve chatted to each person as there wasn’t much more to do. For the first time, I met another cyclist pedalling in the opposite direction. He, too, had to break his Cairo to Cape Town journey due to Covid and spent two years on home soil in Australia. He has now resumed his quest and, much like me, is ambling along in no hurry to get anywhere.

Cycling into a capital city, especially an African one, can be nerve-wracking but biking into Lusaka was pretty straightforward. However, it came with the usual crowded pavements where people traded their wares, leaving no space for the sidewalks’ intended purpose. The traffic was bumper to bumper and didn’t move at all. Most amazing was a chap herding goat, right in the city centre and across the main road using the pedestrian bridge. The goats obediently followed instructions, and all except one (we all know one like that) made their way up and over the bridge. Watching what appeared total chaos brought a smile to my face as I realised I was firmly entrenched in the African way, where people are slow to move but quick to smile.

I eventually continued to Broads Backpackers, which sported lovely units under thatch.

So peaceful was it, I stayed the following day, took the bike for a service, and searched for camping gas for my stove.

The following day I rode out of Lusaka and straight into a fierce headwind. Five kilometres down the drag, I made a U-turn and returned to the guesthouse, as pedalling into a headwind is no fun.

I met with Dimitri the next day, an extraordinary chap and a true adventurer. Dimitri has achieved incredible challenges and is currently circumnavigating the world by human power only. If he can’t walk or cycle, he rows. He plans to bike to Cape Town and then row to Brazil. Go well, Dimitri!

 

30 April – Lusaka – Chinyunyu Hot Spring – 88 km

The weather was much improved, and I eventually cycled out of Lusaka. For once, it felt like I’d the slightest of tailwinds, a welcome change to the continuous breeze I previously pedalled into. The map indicated a hot spring, and I stopped to investigate. The place isn’t commercialised and consequently came without any facilities, apart from toilets but without water. The water from the spring was boiling and it was impossible to submerge even a hand or foot. Further downstream, people used the water to wash and do laundry, but it was still boiling.

Seeing camping only came at 50 kwacha, I stayed put. Later, Peter Gazzard, whom I’ve known via Facebook for many years, also pulled in. It was fantastic to meet him as his round-the-world cycle ride of more than eight years is nearing its end. Also camping at the spring was Phillip, who had been biking with Peter for a few days. It’s always great to have company, and we talked about our lives on the road.

 

 

1 May – Hot spring – Gambit Guest House – 70 km

Peter and Phillip headed further south, and I churned my way up the hills toward the Malawian border, still a few days’ cycling away. The road deteriorated somewhat from our overnight spot as the countryside became hillier and the route narrower and more potholed. I swear a small car could’ve been swallowed by one of them. Villages were few and far between, but I uncovered one to replenish my dwindling water supply.

One thing I refrained from doing in Africa is overtaking anyone on a bicycle, as it inevitably results in a race. No sooner had I passed and they started pedalling like the clappers. It usually doesn’t last long, and I soon catch up, resulting in the same procedure. Best, therefore, to stop, have a snack and water and hopefully, they will be gone by then.

The pavement’s condition and the hilly terrain slowed the pace, and I called it a day on spotting Gambit Guesthouse. Deborah, the lady in charge, walked me to the market to buy food but, in the end, she didn’t like the look of the food and suggested purchasing the ingredients and preparing it herself. How kind of her. The food consisted of nshima and relish made with rape leaves, ground peanuts, onion and chillies. The meal was surprisingly delicious.

 

2 May –

My lack of planning came back to bite me in the ass. On closer inspection, I realised the route between Lusaka and Malawi is relatively rural, offering few villages and none of the usual supermarkets or ATMs. The map indicated barely any facilities, and I thought better of it and thus returned to the previous town to get cash.

This simple exercise turned out to be most exciting and took the entire day. It involved waiting by the side of the road until a bus or minivan appeared. The trip was a lengthy process as people were continuously picked up and dropped off. Not only people but also livestock and other produce. How a minivan can transport such a large amount of luggage and people remains a miracle. We were squashed in like sardines, with babies on our laps and chicken at our feet. If I believed the process fascinating, my presence was even more intriguing to the other passengers. Kids couldn’t stop giggling, and others shyly peered over their mothers’ shoulders while a few seemed downright scared to death.

Eventually, three machines later (all offline) and following a long wait at a fourth one, I managed to withdraw money and could buy more coffee as that’s one thing I didn’t want to run out of. The return trip was even slower but, eventually, I made it to the guesthouse sporting money in my pocket and ready to tackle the final 400-kilometre stretch to the border.

 

3 May – Gambit guest house – Luangwa Bridge Camp – Kunda Camping – 80 km

Never assume anything, my dear friend Dan always said - that the road would descend to the Luangwa River was clearly incorrect. Gosh, I can’t remember a hillier road, and the headwind I rode into tried to push me back up the hills!

Still, it remained interesting. Villagers were making and selling charcoal, and others were harvesting sorghum. On reaching the sad-looking town of Luangwa, I turned down to the Luangwa Bridge Camp, a lovely spot right on the river. I soon realised I’d camped here previously as I remembered jumping into the pool, clothes and all!

Also camping were three other campers and they were fascinating to talk to.

 

4 May - Luangwa Bridge Camp – Kacholola – 64 km

I woke early and was on my way shortly after 8 a.m., an early start for me. From the low-lying Luangwa bridge, the road snaked uphill for the best part of the day. This sparsely populated area was densely wooded, with only the occasional village to break the monotony and fill up with water, which got the village kids into near hysterics.

On reaching Kacholoda, I thought I’d done enough climbing for the day and located a guesthouse. This simple exercise brought out the entire village and soon I was in a room. Albeit without a bathroom except for an outside toilet which required squatting over an open hole in the ground while spiders and cockroaches crawled out. The French fries ordered made up for the lack of bathroom facilities.

 

5 May - Kacholoda – Nyimba – 44 km

I don’t think the place I stayed at was all kosher as the police came to check on my well-being and handed me their telephone number. I didn’t know what to make of it but locked the door and didn’t venture out. Early morning my bladder drove me to the hole in the ground, and I was on my way earlier than usual.

Although I was assured by many that the route east was “flat”, it was, as anticipated, not the case. At least it wasn’t all uphill like the day prior. In fact, it was pleasant riding past numerous small settlements where kids chanted, “how are you, how are you?” Reaching the busy market town of Nyimba, I pulled into the comfortable-looking Taitana Lodge.  Even though it was barely 10 in the morning, I desperately needed a shower. The lodge consisted of various bungalows, and even though I opted for the bottom of the range, it was a lovely unit with a double bed, en suite and bar fridge. The complex further had a bar and restaurant under large trees, a real haven. It thus didn’t take long before I was served a plate of nashima and a Mosi.

 

6 May – Nyimba – Chengirani/Petaule – 65 km

I emerged early as ladies started sweeping the yard; it’s what they do in Africa. I sat on the steps drinking my coffee, wondering if the dust created was worth the few leaves collected. Eventually, I saddled my unwilling old iron horse and proceeded towards the Malawian border.

I wasn’t far from the overnight stop I had in mind; and it gave ample time to stop, chat and take a few pics. I thought it astonishing the responsibility these young kids have. Never in a million years would a child in western culture be saddled with the responsibility of looking after babies or valuable assets, e.g., cattle. I meandered on, watching ladies doing laundry in the river; others were collecting water from a communal well or winnowing produce. All this happened as kids, in near hysterics, called, “how are you, how are you?”

Seeing I was hungry upon arriving at my intended spot, I ordered Chipsi Mayai, a popular street food consisting of a chip omelette. It was precisely what the doctor ordered!

 

7 May – Chengirani – Kasane – 87 km

The huts in the villages seem to change as I head further east. It should be mentioned that the United Kingdom colonised Zambia, and the Republic of Zambia only achieved independence in 1964. Over the past 100 years, Zambian life has therefore been greatly affected by explorers, missionaries, and industrialisation. Livingstone and other explorers from Europe led missionaries to the central part of southern Africa. They organised caravans and brought Christianity, firearms, and new building techniques, such as the sun-dried bricks still used in certain provinces. I find this quite sad as most of the methodologies were suitable for Europeans and not Zambian culture, history, or lifestyle.

In any event, I made my way to Kasane grinding into a stiff breeze and was accompanied by a multitude of Zambians on their squeaky cycles carting anything from drums of homemade beer to stacks of eggs. The bicycle taxi is further in great demand as it’s inexpensive albeit slow.

In Kasane, I stopped at Tiko Lodge, a non-profit community-based organisation recommended by Peter Gazzard and couldn’t wait to order chips and eggs!

 

8/9 May – Tiko Lodge, Kasane – Chipata – 92 km

For once, the mercury rose to 30°C, making for pleasant riding. Not much happened, or I was in a dream world. The few times I stopped to fill up with water brought the usual well-meaning attention. The biggest misconception is that cycle tourers get paid to ride. Imagine that! The general impression is that our governments pay us or that we sell our photographs. If that were the case, I would bike until I fell off the bike! Little do people realise one pays for every item required with hard-earned cash. I guess the concept of cycling for pleasure has never occurred to them.

Chipata was my last stopover in Zambia, and it took a while to find a suitable place to rest my head. It wasn’t cheap, but better than pedalling the 6.5 kilometres back to the campsite spotted earlier.

Seeing I was comfortably ensconced in my abode, I stayed one more day. The main reason for staying was to change money as I don’t like doing it at the border, and the map indicated no ATMs until Lilongwe. I further read one needed a PCR test, and some even mentioned insurance. Fortunately, the insurance was only for vehicles, and as the hospital was in disarray, I left without achieving anything. 

 

10 May – Chipata, Zambia – Unknown village, Malawi – 87 km

The distance to the border was scarcely 20 kilometres, and I crossed without any difficulty. I’m always amazed by the change of scenery, food and culture after crossing a border. Sugarcane was sold in abundance, and one hardly ever spotted anyone without chewing on a piece. The potholes became more prominent and the villages and bicycles more frequent.  During the day, stands sold grilled meat and chips. Stopping to purchase a portion of fries, the entire neighbourhood came to witness this unusual event. Kids in near hysterics called “Azungu, Azungu, Azungu!” The word Azungu, also known as muzungu, mlungu, musungu or musongo, means “wanderer”, originally pertaining to spirits. (Maybe that’s why the kids are so fearful). The term currently refers to foreigners, not only white people. It’s very similar to Farang, Barang, and Falang in Asia. It’s further uttered with the same amount of enthusiasm.

Midway to Lilongwe, I called it quits on spotting what is known as a Rest House. The place was rather basic, and I don’t think the walls had seen a drop of paint in years. The bedding was equally old, and it appeared washing bedding wasn’t a daily occurrence. Taking into consideration the rate was only between 1.5 – 4 US$, I didn’t complain too much. I can shower when in Lilongwe!

161 CYCLE TOURING NAMIBIA (2) - PART 2

                                                 Shenanigans on a bike - By Leana Niemand

NAMIBIA (2) – Part 2

1 490 Kilometres - 21 Days 

PHOTOS

 

23 March – Windhoek – Okahandja – 72 km

Following a leisurely start, Linda and I cycled out of Windhoek. Our first day of riding was a pleasant affair as it felt downhill, and a slight tailwind assisted us. Most of the way was along a highway sporting a wide shoulder and thus easy riding.

This northern part of Namibia seemed lusher and greener than further south. As a result, we encountered more traffic as well as villages. However, the most surprising was the enormous termite mounds and the massive mushrooms along the side of the road. Known as Omajowa, these mushrooms grow at the base of termite mounds in Namibia’s central and northern parts.

Even more fascinating is the tops of the termite mounds all seem to point north. Almost everyone, it seems, has a theory of why the mounds indicate north. “Prevailing winds” is a popular one. “Magnetic fields” is another. Still, just how these mounds point so insistently to the north remains unclear.

Our overnight accommodation was at a campsite in comfortable and reasonably priced bungalows. Good thing too, as the north wind picked up, resulting in rain showers, and we were happy we didn’t opt to camp.

 

24 March – Okahandja – Wewelsburg Camping – 92 km

The cold and rainy weather came as a surprise and made riding to Wewelsburg camping miserable. Unfortunately, my skimpy clothes were ill-suited for this weather, and with teeth chattering we sped down the road, hardly stopping. If it weren’t for my sister, who threw in a 20-year-old rain jacket, I would’ve frozen my non-existing backside off.

Our urgent pace made for an early arrival in Wewelsburg, where we found a lovely farm campsite sporting a massive dog, peacocks, goats, and cattle. The owners fired up the “donkey”, providing a hot shower. Amanda and I chose the old bus, and Linda preferred to pitch her tent, a wise decision. Due to the freezing weather, we all turned in early.

 

25/26 March – Wewelsburg camping – Otjiwarongo – 90 km

We woke to thick fog but, on leaving, the visibility improved and the weather a great deal better than the previous day. Still, I was cold as my clothes were still wet.

The ride was unremarkable and the landscape unchanged as we edged closer to the Caprivi. Our sole excitement was spotting more gigantic mushrooms and a traffic officer who stopped to hand us high visibility belts. How very kind of him.

On reaching Otjiwarongo, Amanda had already located a self-catering guesthouse at a fraction of the price other, more popular, places charged. Thanks, Amanda, you’re a star!

Seeing it was only Linda’s third day (two were long ones), Otjiwarongo made for a day of rest. We did little apart from shop for food and beer and lazed about in our lovely guesthouse.

 

27 March – Otjiwarongo – Otavi – 123 km

The stretch north of Otjiwarongo is a long and lonely road. Truly little happened during the day but, strangely enough, the ride was lovely and relaxed, in perfect cycling weather. I love days like this when the way stretches miles ahead, and one gets into a comfortable rhythm with only the sound of your wheels on the tarmac.

My friend handled the distance easily, and we ambled along until reaching Otavi, where Amanda found a room at a rest camp sporting a tiny swimming pool. We sat around the pool, feet dangling in the cool water while sipping a cold Windhoek draught. A perfect end to a good day of cycling.

 

28/29 March – Otavi – Tsumeb – 65 km

A stiff breeze slowed our pace. Fortunately, riding was easy. The scenery was considerably different from the previous days, and it appeared the more north we ventured, the lusher and greener the landscape.

Our short distance made for an early arrival in Tsumeb, which I’ve heard of numerous times but never visited. Amanda again found inexpensive digs, and I’ll miss her when she returns home on Wednesday.

Our main reason for parking off at Tsumeb was to explore the Etosha National Park. Linda arranged a day tour while Amanda and I did a self-drive through the park as it was more economical. I was happy I had this option as Ethosa is a mind-blowing experience. I was in awe of all I saw as the summer rains brought abundant food and water. I never expected to see such a large amount and variety of wildlife. I consequently had a permanent grin as we drove and snapped gazillion pictures.

 

30 March -Tsumeb – Grootfontein (via Hoba Meteorite) – 111 km

We waved Amanda goodbye and slowly gathered our belongings, wondering if all would fit into our panniers. Mercifully, riding was effortless, and we arrived at the turn-off to Grootfontein early. I opted to investigate the Hoba meteorite and Linda headed into town. The Hoba meteorite (although not spectacular) is the largest single meteorite globally and weighs 60 tonnes; quite a weight for such a small stone! It’s estimated the meteorite landed on this globe about 80 000 million years ago. Being the sole person there, I sat staring at it, eating my jelly sweets and wondered what people made of it 80 million years ago!

On my return, I found Linda uncovered lovely overnight accommodation. I didn’t believe my share of the rate was a mere 200 N$. Thanks, Linda. I know you sponsored me! Later, our host served gin and tonic; we couldn’t believe our luck. How kind of him. Our evening meal at the Kitchen Cafe was equally delicious. We sat in their garden until late, chatting and discussing where to go in the morning.

 

31 March - Grootfontein – Roy’s Camp – 60 km

Our leisurely departure was due to the short distance. The way north was uneventful but made for effortless riding and the kilometres flew by. As a result we reached Roy’s Camp early. The camp offered easy camping, a bar and a restaurant. The short four-kilometre bush walk was enjoyable even though we saw no animals. By evening, the staff lit a fire, and we sat drinking wine and chatting with other campers.

 

1 April – Roy’s Camp – Mururani Camp – 72 km

“Come have a look”, Linda whispered, pointing towards the tiny dik-diks in camp. They were no more than 30-40 centimetres high and couldn’t weigh much more than 3 or 4 kilograms—a great way to greet the day.

Again, leaving was past nine as the distance to Mururani Camp was a comfortable 70 kilometres. The slight headwind was a blessing in disguise as it kept us cool and kept the flies at bay. Still, butterflies abounded.

Mururani Camp had a shop on the main road providing cheap beers and snacks. Camping was a laidback affair on a lush lawn and offered the benefit of a large lapa to cook and hang out the rest of the afternoon.

 

2/3 April - Mururani Rest Camp – Rundu – 137 km

It was a long ride to Rundu, but we stuck to the task at hand. Once in Rundu I opted for the Backpackers and Linda for a slightly more upmarket guesthouse.

 

4 April – Rundu – Mukuku Rest Camp – 77 km

Seeing most shops are closed on a Sunday in Namibia, not a great deal got done, and I, therefore, proceeded to the shop first thing Monday morning. Unfortunately, Linda also had trouble drawing money. It was almost 11 o’clock before we made our way through the potholes and muddy puddles out of Rundu.

Not a considerable amount happened during the day. Still, riding through a rural area where traditional huts abounded was pleasant. It’s an area where people live simple lives; kids walk to schools consisting of no more than tin shacks.

At Mukuku Rest Camp, we chatted to the owner, who offered to take us on a boat ride along the Okovango River. What an immense privilege to experience this river at sunset as the many birds settled in the treetops.

 

5 April - Mukuku Rest Camp – Camp Ndurukoro – 111 km

Linda and I thanked Hans, the owner, and walked our bikes along the sandy path to the dirt road. At least the dirt road was in good condition and made reaching the paved road easy.

 

6 April - Camp Ndurukoro – Rainbow River Lodge - 65 km

Although our friendly hosts at the Ndurukoro Camp said they would phone their friends at Shametu to tell them we were on our way, Linda wanted to stay at Rainbow River Lodge as she believed it had a view of the Popa Falls. After pushing our bikes along the sandy approach road, we uncovered a campsite on the river with no view of the falls.

 

7 April – Rainbow River Lodge – Omega Police Station – 85 km

It took time to walk our bikes back to the main road from where the going was considerably more manageable. Our first stop was at the supermarket to stock up on food before getting underway towards the Botswana border, still, a few days riding away.

 

8 April - Omega Police Station – Kongola – 139 km

We thanked the friendly police officers and resumed our quest in the presence of the kids walking to school. It’s astounding how far these little kids walk. Most schools were basic setups under trees with only a tin shack or two.

Once again, the day turned out a long, slow slog along the main road. Little happened except the familiar sight of small groups of traditional huts and women collecting wood. We were still cycling through the Bwabwata National Park. Although a multi-use area, we were lucky to see two elephants, albeit far in the distance. Linda chose a more upmarket guesthouse, whereas I chose a local joint at a mere 150 N$. In typical African style, the room was as basic as anticipated, but the friendliness was unbeatable.

 

9 April – Kongola – Ivory Camp – 35km

By morning, Linda decided this was enough long and lonely stretches and opted for an excursion along the Kwando River. I needed to draw money and top up my internet and thus had to wait until the single shop in the village opened. Things move slowly in Africa. On cycling out of the village, the sign to Camp Kwando made me realise I was at the turnoff to my friend’s lodge where I was invited to overnight. So I made a U-turn and headed in the direction of Ivory Camp.

At camp, I was surprised the units were right on the Kwando River and that the area formed part of a hunting concession. Hippos wandered around at leisure and I was advised to put the bike inside. Koen, the manager, was super friendly, and as I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, I took a taxi into town to buy food and beer. What a fantastic experience. The trip took almost the rest of the day as the driver stopped at each person, enquiring about their well-being and whether they needed a ride. In the village, each one got dropped off and collected later.

By the time I returned to the lodge, Koen had prepared us a meal, and we sat outside eating and listening to the sounds of the wilderness. The news that a neighbour died of malaria was a reality check and I realised I hadn’t started taking my malaria tablets.

 

10 April – Ivory Camp – Kongola – 36 km

I returned along the sandy track and cycled past peaceful settlements where smoke lazily drifted skywards. The way led past kids collecting water and wood as I found myself cycling into a stiff breeze. My late departure and the headwind made me realise I most likely would be unable to reach Katima and hence stayed one more night in the tiny settlement of Kongola.

Albeit situated on the national road and the national power line, it has not yet been connected to the electricity grid. The power was iffy, to say the least. Luckily, the power came on at around 6 pm, but it was a mystery just how long it would last. There’s further no access to safe water but, too lazy to cycle to the shop, I drank the water anyway as I reckoned I’m immune to water-borne diseases by now. I guess this can come back to bite me in the ass!

 

11/12 April – Kongola – Katima Mulilo – 120 km

The route between Kongola and Katima is not one of the most interesting, but there’s no such thing as a dull day of cycling in Africa. Unexpectedly, I encountered ladies collecting wood or water, and their faces screamed disbelief, and I can’t blame them. However, they were quick to smile and wave once over the initial shock.

We haven’t seen any of the enormous termite mounds seen further south because the termite mound soil is used to build huts, and I understand these structures can last between 5 – 10 years. The road was further dotted with makeshift stalls selling fresh milk and meat. Exactly how fresh remains a mystery.

Neat settlements abounded, and so did the Nguni cattle, a breed indigenous to Southern Africa. Nguni cattle are heat and light tolerant and can handle extreme heat and cold alike. In addition, they are adaptable and hardy and possess excellent resistance to internal and external parasites with natural immunity to tick-borne diseases.

The effortless riding made for an early arrival in the sad-looking town of Katima where I bunked down at the ABC Guesthouse. I love these places and realise how much I’ve missed Africa and its simple and slow way of life.

The following day was also spent in Katima as I had a few things to do, and Linda needed a day of rest after her long cycle the previous day.

Interestingly, I chatted with people and was asked if I wanted to settle in the area. The indigenous people do not view land as their own property – instead, it is something that belongs to everyone. I understood that they could speak to the chief and, if permission was granted, I could build myself a hut. I quite like that idea. 

160 CYCLE TOURING NAMIBIA (2) - PART 1

Shenanigans on a bike - By Leana Niemand 

NAMIBIA (2) Part 1

1 109 Kilometres - 16 Days

4 March - 22 March 2022

PHOTOS

  

 

4 March 2022 – Vioolsdrift, South Africa – Aussenkehr, Namibia – 63 km

We chatted to Kathy, the owner, forever before getting on the dirt road for the return trip to the Namibian border checkpoint. At least this time, we’d our PCR tests, and all went smoothly. The first stop was at a petrol station to buy a SIM card and have breakfast. After that, Amanda pushed on to Aussenkehr and I enjoyed the last of the paved road for some time. It was a long and lonely stretch along the Orange River and the scenery desolate but spectacular.

Amanda located a lovely resort where camping was right on the river. The only problem was the lack of internet connection and thus no means of contacting me to tell me where to go, and she’d to drive back to inform me.

The lodge sported a pool as well as a bar, and the sunset was spectacular as we lit a fire to braai.

 

5 March – Aussenkehr – Ai-Ais – 78 km

Again, I set out before Amanda and was reluctant to leave our lovely campsite as it would be the last time I see the water or a paved road until reaching Walvis Bay. Fortunately, the road was in good condition and the riding almost easy.

Midday, Amanda came past and besides her, I only saw one other vehicle which turned out to be the manager of the Ai-Ais resort where we camped. Besides the baboons, there were no other guests as it was still considered too hot to visit this part of the world. Strangely, it didn’t feel the near 40 C predicted as I’d the slightest breeze to cool me and keep the flies at bay.

After sunset, we cooked pasta instead of a braai as there was no shop nearby. Once darkness fell, the heat became almost unbearable, and I was happy to leave the flysheet off.

 

6 March – Ai-Ais – Hobas Lodge – 70 km

I tried to get underway as soon as possible as the weather forecast was for sweltering weather. Although hot it wasn’t the heat that bothered me but the steady climb into a strong headwind. The first 30 kilometres thus became an exhausting ride as I could barely manage six or seven km/h. Still, one pedal stroke at a time will get one almost anywhere. I thus persevered and around midday the wind subsided, but the flies increased, irritating me to no end. Fortunately, Amanda passed and handed me more water as the slow pace required more water than anticipated.

On the upside, the scenery was spectacular as the Fish River Canyon was visible in the distance. I was exhausted upon reaching Hobas Lodge. You can imagine my relief when I found Amanda had booked a chalet instead of camping. Although pricey, it was a lovely unit featuring all the mod cons where I could shower and flop on a bed! Her main reason for opting for a chalet was the sight of the many baboons in camp. They can be quite a menace.

 

7 March – Hobas Lodge – Canyon Farm Yard – 62 km

The main canyon viewpoint was 10 kilometres away and gave spectacular views at Hell’s Bend over this second largest canyon globally. The canyon formation started with the separation of the continent Gondwana about 120 million years ago. With the uplifting of the African continent the gradient of the Fish River increased, allowing it to erode even deeper into the rock. Today, the deepest point of the canyon is 549 metres deep.

A few drops of rain fell during the night and pools of water were visible during the day, not often seen in this part of the world. I saw Amanda about 10 kilometres down the drag at the Canyon Roadhouse after which she proceeded to our agreed-upon camp. An ancient lime kiln and an old railway bridge were the only things of interest.

Our camp was a somewhat rustic affair without electricity or Wi-Fi and thus a peaceful setting displaying gazillion stars.

 

8 March – Canyon Farm Yard – Seeheim – 67 km

Due to our early night, I woke at around six and lit the stove for coffee. Still, it was eight o’clock before I eventually got on the dusty road to Seeheim. A few kilometres further, I found the road closed due to flooding and was diverted across the Naute Dam wall where the sluice gates were open and water poured spectacularly out of the dam.

Not much further, my path reached the paved Luderitz road and, aided by a tailwind, I flew to Seeheim where we camped at the overpriced Seeheim Hotel and Camping. We were the only ones there but still had to pay to use the pool. One could, nonetheless, use their internet if you ordered a beer or food. During the day Amanda drove to Keetmanshoop to stock up as we were running low on crisps and beer! We thus did not need their overpriced beer but I needed the internet.

 

9 March – Seeheim – Alta Kalkhofen – 53 km

We learned of a campsite at Alta Kalkhofen and I made it a short ride. As the entire way was paved, riding was pleasant and quick. I was amazed at the astronomical prices in Namibia for accommodation and camping. Still, mentally we were committed to camp and thus stayed put. The prices appeared high as I got used to 10-dollar rooms in Southeast Asia. Wi-Fi and electricity were only available at the reception building, and that’s where we spent a few hours charging our devices and posting updates. This service, of course, wasn’t entirely free as one needed to order something to eat or drink. I nursed my beer as I updated posts and watched rare rainfall in this dry region. The ground seemed as greedy as some of the campsite owners.

During the evening, Amanda and I made plans to visit the ghost town of Kolmanskop, situated 245 kilometres away and shortly before Lüderitz. Although easy cycling, I wouldn’t say I like backtracking. Instead of cycling, we arranged to leave the bicycle and camping gear at the Lodge.

 

10 March – Side trip to Kolmanskop, Lüderitz (by car)

It took forever to load all our stuff in the car, and the staff kindly allowed us to store our belongings in the shed until our return. The drive to Lüderitz was remarkable and tedious as the road beat a dead-straight track through the desert.

From the small town of Aus, the way descended from the escarpment and entered the famed Namib desert, a vast plain of nothingness. It’s incredible how vast, lonely and quiet this area is, especially since spending almost two years in tropical and densely populated Southeast Asia. Not only was the area remarkable, but we further spotted the wild horses of Namibia. Living on the barren plains around Garub on the eastern fringe of the Namib Desert, their origin is shrouded in mystery. Yet, despite the harsh, arid landscape, they’ve survived against all odds.

Many years ago, I explored this region and Kolmanskop; I was thus surprised to find the famous ghost town now had an entrance fee of 120N$. I must admit I left South Africa 15 years ago, and one can expect things to change. The visiting hours were more surprising, from 8h00 – 13h00, and thus didn’t allow investigating at sunset or sunrise (the best time for photography). One had to buy a special permit for this privilege at 200N$ (I think).

We thus continued to Lüderitz, where I was relieved to find a perfectly priced room right in the centre of town, just as I thought Namibia only catered for the super-rich! The shower worked overtime, and we charged all our devices. The internet was strong enough to allow updating my blog – at last! While updating the blog, I feared I didn’t have enough data left to complete the job, and Amanda and I walked to a shop selling trinkets, airtime, etc. The lady was busy attending to a Namibian man but was so rude it was embarrassing to watch. I stared in amazement as she rolled her eyes and was irritated as he’d a problematic surname to spell! He needed to scan a document that he wanted to load on his phone to forward. I nearly intervened as she spoke to him in such a dismissive and demeaning manner it broke my heart. Attending to us, she couldn’t be any sweeter! It appeared racism was still alive and well in Namibia.

At sunset, it became surprisingly cold as we meandered to the tiny waterfront where we’d a lovely meal. The service was excellent, and the food was delicious.

 

11 March – Kolmanskop, Lüderitz – Alta Kalkhoven

As we thought Kolmanskop only opened at 9h00, we were slow to get going, but, once there, learned the gates opened at 8h00. Still, we spent a few hours wandering about this village with its sad history. I’ll post a link to an article by National Geographic which is worth a read as it sheds light on that era’s brutality.

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/travel/article/eerie-fascinating-pictures-kolmanskop-desert-diamond-ghost-town

Once done, we returned to Alta Kalkhoven and spotted more wild horses but far in the distance.

 

12/13 March – Alta Kalkhoven – Bethanie – 46 km

What should’ve been easy riding became a battle into a headwind on a gradual uphill to 1100m. In Bethanie (the oldest settlement in the country), I found Amanda having tea at the hotel/guesthouse/camping which turned out the oldest hotel in Namibia. The place looked inviting, and we decided to stay the night. Not only was it a short cycle, but we further opted for a room instead of camping, all very out of character. No sooner were we ensconced in a comfortable room than a fierce wind picked up. Within minutes the sky darkened, and lightning lit the sky. The heavens opened with one almighty bang, and the rain came down in droves. In no time at all the whole place was underwater. Staff tried to sweep the water from the kitchen/communal area, but all to no avail. Fortunately, the rooms remained dry, but the entire neighbourhood lost power. We thanked our lucky stars we didn’t proceed or camp as the roads and campsite became one muddy mess.

Eventually, the owner boiled a few potatoes accompanied by a pasta salad. After that, the guesthouse became quite busy as, besides Amanda and me, three chaps working in the area and a farmer who couldn’t reach his farms due to flooding also overnighted. Reports came in that the roads were flooded and washed away, and Amanda was advised not to proceed in the morning.

It rained throughout the night and the farmer still couldn’t reach his farm by morning. The weather bureau predicted more rain and our chances of getting through diminished further. We thus stayed another day, planning to retrace our steps to Keetmanshoop and follow the main road north.  

Missionaries established the town in the 19th century due to the presence of a spring and, as we had the day free, we walked the tiny settlement visiting the Lentia Lutheran Church, built in 1899 and the original church built in 1859. Sadly, Bethanie was the scene of the first recorded deed of sale when a German representative “bought” the surrounding land. I think it must’ve been the easiest thing in the world to bamboozle people into selling land when they had no concept of land ownership. The indigenous people do not view land as their own property – instead, it is something that belongs to everyone.

 

14 March – Bethanie – Keetmanshoop – 140 km

Seeing the roads were still flooded, I stepped on the pedals and cycled the 140 kilometres to Keetmanshoop. Backtracking is never much fun, and seeing it was a long distance (to me, that is), I didn’t take many pictures. Still, I snapped a pic of the many critters on the road. Armoured bush crickets covered the road. They are meaty delights that make a good snack for many different predators. But they possess a remarkable array of defensive measures, including vomit, spikes and squirting blood from seams in their exoskeleton!

On reaching Keetmanshoop, Amanda had already found a guesthouse, and I was more than pleased I didn’t have to cycle around looking for accommodation.

 

15 March - Keetmanshoop – Tses – 86 km

The ATM spat out a few ND allowing the purchase of more data. Afterwards, a shop selling outdoor equipment, including bicycle paraphernalia, provided a pump as mine gave up the ghost. Still, it was remarkably early by the time I set out. Cycling along a highway is one of my pet hates, as it’s like watching paint dry, but there was no option. Linda arrived on the 18th, and there remained 500 kilometres to Windhoek.

Albeit the main road, the B1 is narrow without a shoulder; luckily it wasn’t very busy.

The only thing of interest was the Brukkaros Crater visible in the distance. The mountain is a large caldera, with a diameter of about 4 kilometres. The caldera collapsed about 80 million years ago, but there was no time for a visit.

Although on the main thoroughfare, there’s a lack of accommodation along this route, and the first camping was 180 kilometres past Keetmanshoop. Hence, the tiny Nama village of Tses, consisting of a few little houses, a small shop, a school, and a church, made a perfect overnight stop. It’s at the church where we found a room at 200N$. The room was sparkling clean with two single beds, a kettle, a bar fridge and a fan! It even had a communal kitchen and TV room! The rooms are most likely for the use of teachers.

Our early arrival allowed rinsing cycling gear, and we later took a walk, snapping pics of the kids who thought it the highlight of their day. Unfortunately, the thorns in this part of the world are massive, and I stood on one which went right through my shoe and into my foot! Ouch!

 

16 March – Tses – Gibeon – 96 km

Truly little happened during the day except for roadwork and reaching Gibeon, one more tiny Nama settlement, early. Like the previous day, this hamlet had a surprisingly charming guesthouse at a mere 500N$. Chatting to the people, we got a little insight into what happened in Namibia during the invasion.

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/28/world/europe/germany-namibia-genocide.html

It’s heart-breaking what occurred in the Americas, Africa, and Australia. The discrimination and superior attitude remain in many parts. The Europeans left such a deep-rooted legacy of pain and suffering I don’t think these countries will ever rid themselves of it. It’s exciting when one gets chatting to the people who live in the region. We visited the grave of Hendrik Witbooi, and I felt humbled standing at the grave of this great leader of his time.

 

17 March – Gibeon – Mariental – 76 km

The chickens woke me early and after a complimentary breakfast from Silina, I left, not sure if I should cycle the 150 kilometres to Kalkrand or whether to make it two short days. However, the scenery was unchanged the entire way. Once at the sad-looking village of Mariental, I found Amanda at the Wimpy having tea. She further located a bargain guest house consisting of two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a lounge for only 600N$. Even though barely midday, we opted for this lovely guesthouse and lazed about for the remainder of the day.

 

18 March – Mariental – Kalkrand – 78 km

The B1 must be the most mind-numbing road in Southern Africa and stretched straight ahead without the slightest vista change. The way is further dreadfully narrow with nowhere to pull off when trucks came past; phew! The only thing out of the ordinary was a sudden gust of wind and even a few drops of rain. No sooner was a rain jacket donned than the bad weather passed.

Meanwhile, I got word from Amanda that she’d uncovered a 200N$ pp room and there was thus no need to camp, not that there was a campsite.

 

19 March – Kalkrand – Rehoboth – 104 km

I was in no hurry to get out of Kalkrand but got underway after two cups of coffee.

The B1 resembled the Stuart Highway through the Australian outback. Every cattle grid and dirt road turning off to nowhere required a photo stop. There was thus no pedalling past the Tropic of Capricorn sign without snapping a pic. It’s not the first time I’ve taken a picture here! In the meantime, Amanda discovered budget self-catering accommodation and, on arrival, I found the beers already in the fridge. I did indeed train her well.

 

20/21 March - Rehoboth – Windhoek – 90 km

The fog was still lying low on cycling out of Rehoboth. What started as pleasant riding became a battle into a headwind on a hillier than expected road. I felt tired climbing over the Auas Mountains and on reaching the top at near 2000 metres didn’t appreciate the rain that set in. Fortunately, the last 15 kilometres were via a good downhill. I would never have imagined biking into Windhoek in a drizzle. Locating my sister and Linda was easy, and it was good seeing my friend again. Our reunion called for a pizza evening, and I scoffed an entire Col’Cacchio pizza!

The following day was a public holiday in Namibia, and most places were closed. The bike and computer shops thus had to wait until the next day.

 

22 March – Windhoek

We all had a busy day as much remained to be done before we could leave Windhoek. First, Linda and I cycled to the bike shop where they filled our tubes with sealant; afterwards, I handed in my laptop and returned later to collect it.

That evening, my friend Erma and her husband John invited us for a braai. It was a pleasant evening in their beautiful home. We returned home well fed and grateful for such welcoming friends.