and we are off!

At last the wait is over and we all made it to Johannesburg in time for the connection to Walvis Bay. At least most of us did it smoothly but one unnamed individual left his passport on the plane and had to retrieve it after he had made it to the baggage claim. In the best South African style many people told him that they would go back to the  plane for him, but unfortunately they all vanished into thin air. Eventually after asking a variety of willing officials, after two hours a responsible individual went onto the plane to get it back. By this point we were about to board for Namibia so it really was in the nick of time. Good work SAA,

I had thought that we would be the only group or at least the biggest group on the plane. No way. There was a group of French vintage car owners who had shipped their cars down and were going touring through the Namib in them.  Amazing the spectrum of people you meet here.

The other thing that impressed me on our arrival in Walvis Bay wasn't the airport building, but how much attention they were paying to Ebola. Because most of us were from the USA we had to fill out forms about where we had traveled in the prior three months. When questioned about this the nurse was very clear. Ebola exists in the USA but not in Namibia. They weren't taking any chances with those dangerous Americans. There was also a guy scanning everyone who got off the plane with a hand held thermometer, just to make sure that no one was running a fever.

Anyway we made it to the hotel, and then the priority stop was the biltong shop. Namaqua Beef is surely the world epicenter of game biltong. We stocked up, much to their delight, and I have it on good authority that the cupboards were bare  when we left. Old Mother Hubbard has nothing on them.

Dinner that night was once again at the Tug, which has become the go to place in the region. It’s a beautiful restaurant on the beach and since I discovered it about 4 years ago, every trip has included at least one meal there. There has also been something unique about each visit and this night was no different. One of the specialties of the house is sole. Its really good and they can prepare it a few ways. Johnny in his best indecisive way, couldn’t decide among them so what is a man to do but order all three options.  His leftover bones at the end of the meal looked very much like preparation for a ichthyology class.

The next morning we headed over to Mike to pick up the trucks which he had so painstakingly prepared. They looked spectacular and just to ensure there were no screw ups each of us had to take a drive around the block to get a feel for them. When we returned we backed them into a nice straight line, except for Allan who backed his into the wall. Good thing we were at an auto electrician’s yard. We finally got


on the road at about 10 and once again the police were waiting for us. This time we were smart and only had one person in each truck. No problem. They then told us that we had too many documents, that the clearing agent had screwed up, that we had more licenses than we needed which was illegal and that one way or another we would have to pay fines.  So we paid the penalty, passed go and got rolling.  We made it to Windhoek after only one more roadblock. 

 

Once again we got a little lost. We pulled off the highway and turned into the city proper and quickly realized we had no clue where to go. We stopped on a blind curve and a cop came running over, screaming at us about how dangerous it was. I told him we needed help and his whole demeanor changed. Unbelievable what a difference between there and where we live. He started smiling and asked how he could help. At this point there were just two trucks waiting, and when I showed him our map and told him where we were going we ran into a familiar problem. He knew the hotel but the road we were looking for had changed its name, so there was no such address. He agreed to show us where to go and then saw the other six trucks pulling up. He didn’t seem very disturbed and we followed him to an intersection close by. He climbed out of his van and came walking over to us with a huge grin on his face. The hotel was across the street but he very keenly informed me that they had no real parking lot and we had no chance of making a tight turn into the property and then parking even one truck, let alone eight. And with that he climbed into his van and drove away. Anyway we fooled him; we made it into the lot and managed to park, although we had to lift a couple of awnings to get in.

Then the fun started. The indicator on one of the trucks showed that the cab was loose, not a good thing. Another one wouldn’t start. So we called mechanics and they worked incompetently until about ten that night, when they told us that the part we needed was at the warehouse which was too far away to go. However, one of them just happened to have one at his house which he could let us have for a price.  Right!. Anyway we did it and headed out the next morning, going north for a long haul to Etosha.

It was a long haul but we drove into the camp at about 5