Everything you read about travelling in Africa insists you make sure you don't travel at night, so it was only fitting on arrival in Botswana we should do the last 50km to Francistown in the dark. People assume that animals, donkeys especially, station themselves on warm roads at night but the reason you mustn't travel after dark is a little less obvious. You realise with your car does not operate as well at night and with the setting of the sun things start to break.

We had a fairly uneventful journey with breakfast in Pretoria with Sarah followed by the mad scramble to quickly buy all the things we had forgotten. The most disturbing part was filling petrol and after flooring it to Joburg (read keeping as close to 120kmph as possible) we had managed to use R1450 of diesel! Either the consumption was so bad because we I didn't fill up fully at work in Durban or because we were using poor diesel, probably a combination. It did scare me though that at the start of the trip we might spend 15% more than expected on fuel, already our biggest expense by far!

The road to the Botswana border at Martin's drift is uneventful, flat and straight. The countryside deteriorates into dry semi-desert and only a few towns break this boring monotony. However, we easily had 5 hours of admin to do and phone calls to make so we tried to get this all sorted before the border.

The border itself is a pretty average affair. There was hardly anyone there, and hardly the crumby border town villiage one expects to accommodate truckers who wait days for customs permits and money changing touts. We were through very quickly even with my paranoia to make sure I'd been to all the right places and is only set us back R170, which was to be perhaps the cheapest crossing we'll have.

Immediately the road deteriorates: the verges disappear, the fences on the side of the road vanish, any road markings become afterthoughts and signposts are only found when absolutely necessary. And the potholes begin. Even the bridge over the river has potholes on the Botswana side. Botswana roads are generally very good but it seems to be a statement on South African border crossings that the road deteriorates, a sign you're entering into the unknown - brace yourself.

We had been recommended to travel the quickest route to miss the trucking route and Tracks 4 Africa agree, although later we discovered the locals use the A1 as far as possible and Nokia maps kept trying to get us onto this route. I think it's a worthwhile route though as the potholes were littering the road we were driving and the back road was better. The road was as before, flat and endless, though now there were many goats and donkeys to make it a bit exciting. All went well until 50km before Francistown.

There was suddenly a high pitched rattle and we slowed to examine the engine which then began to sound alright. Five minutes down the road and there was a clang, a spark and a real rattle. We don't really know what goes on under the hood so opening it on the roadside was a bit of anxious moment. Luckily, a couple of minutes later, a couple of mechanics from Francistown, taking a bus to their workshop, stopped to help. After offering to tow us for P750 and us politely declining, they had a look for and disconnected the drive belt for the aricon which was the cause of the problem. On closer inspection I realised the bearings on the tensioner had seized and the pulley had been mangled by the heat. So 5 minutes later we were back on the road with no aircon but high spirits.

By 7 o'clock we were safely in Francistown with Claris and Shirley van der Merwe and their son Jaco, braaing and enjoying a relaxed evening.