We made two attempts at adding a postcard today. Both took 30 minutes and did not save! Needless to say we are more than ready for the cartons of wine (yes cartons) which await us. This is therefore a very much summarised version of what happened. Last Friday we loaded up the bakkie (truck) with provisions and purred 650 km north to the game reserve, Etosha. Passing through some rather dubious looking towns along the way, we eventually reached Etosha. The smell of singeing rubber filled the air as Sue screamed GIRAFFE and Phill hit the anchors. We had only just passed through the entrance to the park. Floodlit waterhole viewings each evening followed by up close and personal encounters with lion, zebra, giraffe, springbok, kudu, ostrich... huuh huuuhh, let me catch my breathe.... the list goes on. Our first safari. The experience way exceeded our expectations. To add a bit of grit to the whole experience, we managed to tilt the satelite dish over to one side and watch ENGvARG the other night. 'Gerry' poored out of the buffet for the last few minutes of the game, . Having lost the battle for supremacy at the poolside earlier that day, we proudly lay our towels on the front row of seating. Honours even with 'Gerry'! As the third goal hit the net, it was all too much for Phill. Standing up he burst into a chorus of 'whats it like to lose a war'. Marvelous. Two days in the park preceeded our 250km drive south to Khoraxis - a dust ball of a town, for an over night stop. This is close to the Petrified Forest, though it was us who were petrified! Yesterday morning, we drove for 550km on gravel and sand roads. The drive took 7 hours. It wasn't planned that way. We raced from Khoraxis towards the entrance to the Skeleton Coast Nat Park, believing the barrier closed at 1300. Two hours driving without seeing barely a car or person, it became apparent that we would miss the deadline. We pressed on - in silence! No problem as it turned out. The guide was wrong. We made it through and continued for another 300 km, traversing some of the most bleak and inhospitable terrain either of us has seen. We reached Swapokmund at night fall, a holiday town on the Atlantic coast. PaS