Cape Town, South Africa

Back in Cape Town we weren't the only ones on a pilgrimage to Robben Island.

Just after Reconciliation Day the ferry was a joyous riot of singing, dancing and praising the end of apartheid 16 years ago. Nelson Mandela's old cell is a shrine of sorts. We were ushered past in solemn order by our guide, a former political prisoner.

Thoughts on politics were constantly provoked throughout our time in South Africa, this most stunningly beautiful country.

Route 1 into South Africa

We still kept look-out for wildlife as we cruised down the slick tarmac back into South Africa.

A very friendly place to stop-over, but it's not unkind to say that Kimberley is a workaday town remarkable for a very big hole. If you want diamonds you've got to dig deep.

Kalahari Desert, Botswana

As a last hurrah to Southern Africa, we dipped our toes into the central Kalahari. Inspired by '70s ecologists Mark and Delia Owens we explored Deception Pan, taking it in turns to keep a look out for wildlife from our favourite viewpoint.

We would have settled here for weeks as happy savages if our precious water tank had stretched for longer. But it was quite a job hiding it from the thirsty bees and mischievous hornbills.

Time to move back to civilisation. Pah.

Magkadigkadi Salt Pans, Botswana

Working our way back to Cape Town we were never going to take the direct route. There was no way we could resist a little detour into the central plains of Botswana.


The featureless salt pans had an austere beauty but we were happier sticking to the roads between occasional islands of rock. At Khubu Island we learned a little about African civilisations forgotten by history.

Mostly, though, we savoured our time camping beneath marvellous baobab trees.

Chobe National Park, Botswana

From the banks of the Chobe river we looked across to Namibia over water that would flow over the Victoria Falls and out to the Indian Ocean. Here on the Botswana side we hopped on a boat cruise for our last wildlife fix.

The villainous charisma of the crocodiles was never going to out-charm the local residents: hundreds and hundreds of elephants.

Animals that we were happy to observe for hours, especially when performing such feats as wading across the deep river using their trunks as snorkels.

Road to Nowhere (video clip)

The male dung beetle does the heavy sh*t-lifting, whilst lady muck hitches a ride.

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

Glaswegian anti-slavery campaigner David Livingstone is credited with discovering this great natural wonder of the world.

'The Smoke That Thunders' racks up many impressive statistics. But not enough to fully assuage our conscience for the dollars we paid into Robert Mugabe's loathsome pocket.

Moremi Game Reserve, Botswana

A practical stop in the bustling outpost of Maun before returning to the wild wetlands of Moremi. Spectacular thunderstorms signaled the end of the dry season but we snuck into these wildlife-rich wetlands before the roads became completely waterlogged.

With just two big predators left on our wish list after Namibia, we dared not hope to be so lucky. However, resting under a tree with a belly so full the usually lean body was bulging out of shape, we spotted magnificent cheetah.

Lion tracks and hippo poo made it clear that our campsite was as wild as it gets, but Third Bridge was also familiar. The camp's faded old toilet blocks had been built by an Operation Raleigh team many years ago. Amongst them, a dread-locked 19 year old Sam.


Sam reminisced around the fire as hyenas whooped and enormous bugs buzzed. The lions that had growled in the night eluded us next morning and the day's wildlife spotting began slowly. Nevermind, we paused to be dazzled by Botswana's national bird, the lilac-breasted roller.

But, just as we were a little lost in damp woodland, we stumbled upon twenty wild African dogs. As our jaws dropped the pack scrapped, scratched and lapped at a puddle a few metres ahead of our landrover. They then prowled passed us and disappeared.

More rain fell and we slogged northward out of the mire, testing our newfound 4x4 skills. As we continued our own self-drive safari, we entertained the idea of becoming field biologists in the African wilderness.

Happy Hippos (video clip)

Our favourite sound of the African bush.

More Lake Than Puddle (video clip)

Deep in the Moremi wetlands we follow fellow landy-drivers to get through mud and high water.

Okavango Delta, Botswana

We crept into the Okavango Delta through backwaters where locals are more familiar with cattle-ranching than tourists. Mark, a friendly Brit expat, took us under his wing and set us up with two guys and a mokoro.

James and John eased us through the network of narrow waterways in our dug-out canoes, though they turned out to be more than just polers.

They drilled us in the 444 species of birds in the delta and showed us wildlife both big and small, from wallowing elephants to tiny frogs lurking amongst the reeds.


We were regaled with stories from their experiences working at $1,000-a-night lodges in the delta. Fortunately they were still happy to keep us scruffy backpackers safe as we bush-camped alarmingly close to a lion kill. A domestic cow might be easy pickings for the biggest of cats, but we preferred to feast on the fish we'd just caught from the local hippo pool.


We loved our time in the Okavango and the many insights we gained from our two great guides.

Tsodilo Hills, Botswana

Skirting through the Caprivi Strip and into Botswana, we camped at the sacred Tsodilo Hills, home to ancient Bushman cave paintings. Using a mixture of blood and ochre, the holy shaman would depict both animals and humans as they entered into spiritual trances.

The 500 metre high hills are also the highest point in a pancake flat country of wild bundu.

Etosha National Park, Namibia

Etosha is a vast game reserve dominated by a 5,000 sq km salt pan . The landscape is of thick mopane brush and the wildlife here is notoriously hard to spot. But we were in luck....


Early November is the driest time of year and all life congregates around the waterholes. We only had to drive up to one of the several muddy ponds and be patient.

We'd happily sit and watch the procession of buck at a busy waterhole - langourous giraffe, gamine impala, elegant kudu. Let alone zebra, wildebeest, springbok, red hartebeest... As we ticked off our checklist, the inner nerd came bursting through and Sam officially became a wildlife enthusiast.


However, only by slowly driving around with sharp eyes did we spot a lioness skulking in the long grass.

Of course, not all creatures are blessed with such power and grace.

As the day cooled from its 40 degree heat, we walked from camp to the nearby Halali waterhole. With its all-night floodlights, it provided such an evening spectacle that we found we could do without sleep. Out came the hyenas, honey badgers, a leopard and our favourites, the family of rhino.

Kaokoland, Northern Namibia

Pushing into northern Namibia the terrain became wilder and we entered the land of the Himba.

The deeply corrugated dirt road was tough going, but we finally bounced into Purros to set up camp for a few days.


The local Himba women daub their near-naked bodies in rich red ochre. Mixed with animal fat and black pepper it's an effective sun screen. With elaborately dreadlocked hair and bead jewellery, they take huge pride in their appearance and culture. The younger menfolk prefer jeans and sunglasses.

More traditional Himba men still live nomadically, keeping their goats safe from desert lions. A bag of flour was gratefully received for help with directions and for modern money Phil bought a handmade knife.


From our base in the dry river bed we formed a convoy with a Toyota-driving London-based couple to explore a little into the Kaokoveld.

Thanks to Nav and Sarah with their GPS gadgetry, we felt safe enough even when the going got a little hairy.

Skeleton Coast, Namibia

We were promised wild on the Skeleton Coast. The Atlantic was a mill pond when we arrived but we awoke in our roof-top tent to cloying fog thick with sand and salt.

The sea mist gave way to ferocious winds, explaining the shipwrecks strung along this coastline where dunes meet the surf.

Namib-Naukluft, Namibia

With sun-burnt necks and sand-scolded feet we left the dunes and headed for the Naukluft mountains to find refreshment in green valleys and springwater pools. Bliss.

Moving on, the landscape change yet again to vast swathes of semi-desert veld. A few animals proved their resilience in making a life here, the most charming of which we found to be the bat-eared fox. Even if a cheeky one did lap up Sam's foot spa.

We pitched camp beneath the one thing breaking the horizon of the Namib-Nauklift desert, a huge granite outcrop (spot the landy).

Only later did we discover that our kopje was the setting for the iconic opening scene of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Sossusvlei, Namibia

Sitting on top of the world's biggest sand dune we agreed that this was one of the best days of our travel lives. And it wasn't yet 9 am.


An alarm clock error put us well ahead of the tour buses in a pre-dawn dash to Sossusvlei. Our reward was to have the Namib desert to ourselves as the warm morning light crept up.


We were fascinated by these enormous dunes of fine grains of sand, shaped by the wind and shifting before our eyes. Fragile, surreal and gruelling to climb. We huffed and puffed to the top of Big Daddy, barefoot until our soles burnt.


From the beachy peak we looked out over sandy contours to the horizon in every direction.


Giggling all the way back down as we found the new pastime of sand skiing an awful lot quicker and easier. At the bottom, Deadvlei, a bleached salt pan forested by bare trees. This was a proper cinematic dreamscape and we pinched ourselves in disbelief.

As the softer light of afternoon came around we geared up for the 4x4 drive through the sand to take us back to camp.