Oshakati-Tsumeb-Windhoek-Rundu-Botswana border

I never thought that I would say this after countless sleepless hours spent on red-eye Greybound busses from Victoria to Kelowna during my university years, but I miss reliable, moderately comfortable and timely transport that I took for granted back in Canada. I pondered this as I was sitting with Adam and Emily in a half-ful kombi in Oshakati waiting for our driver, in competition with dozens of other drivers parked along-side us, to hound enough travellers to overfill our minibus so that we could set off towards Tsumeb. After a couple of hours we made our way to Ondangwa, a town not far off, where we fueled up (during which they found it necessary to physically shake the minibus back and forth multiple times so as to squeeze in every last possible drop) drove around the corner and back, then to the other side of the petrol station lot, then back again. Each time filling us with anticipation for our journey south to begin, each time leaving us disappointed.

Five hours after we initially borded the minibus (and were promised of our departure within half an hour) we left Ondangwa and began the journey south. Mere kilometres into our trip the smell of gasoline inside of the kombi was so intense that the passengers had the driver pull over to check the fuel tank. It turns out that they had shaken the vehicle so vigorously when fueling that they somehow had leaked some petrol into the cab of the bus, where it had pooled at our feet. This was not considered reason to delay our journey anymore than had been already, so we pressed on, left to deal with the noxious smell of gasoline. We made the entire trip with all windows open, absolutely freezing, so as not to become ill from the overpowering vapours. I don't know why I bother to get my hopes up for easy travel anymore, probably because every once in a while you are pleasantly surprised, but for the most part I have found any sort of long-distance travel in Namibia to be unpredictable and excruciating.

We arrived in Tsumeb at about 8:00 and caught a taxi to Mousebird Backpackers, our lodging for the night. We enjoyed scalding hot showers, scrubbing the smell of gasoline from our skin and hair, and then were in bed asleep by 9pm. It was going to be another long day tomorrow.

We were fortunate in the early morning to have caught a ride with a pickup truck going to Windhoek. After a very short wait of only a half hour Adam, Emily and I climbed into the canopied box with our luggage and lounged on a stained and filthy, but soft, mattress for the 5-hour trip. I have come to love riding in the back of trucks here, particularly those without canopies; there is something liberating about the wind whipping your hair as you drive perilously fast, knowing that if ever you needed to come to a screeching halt you might not make it out alive.

We met Mattie that night at Chameleon Backpackers in Windhoek and celebrated her 23rd at the hostel with Italian take away and a mystery dessert (a Picasso cake surprise...how could you not try it?). It was an early night as we were up at 7:00 Sunday morning and at the car rental shop for 9 where we picked up our rental car, a 4x4 Nissan pickup which we dubbed Girlfriend. Girlfriend was the ideal camping vehicle, as she was equipped with a canopied back that held a fold-out table, 4 chairs, dishware, pots and pans and cooking utensils, 2 propane takes and a burner for cooking, as well as blankets and pillows for the fold-out tents that perched atop the vehicle. She was perfect.

Immediately we set off for Rundu-in the Kavango region-a stone's throw away from Angola, separated only by the Cubango river. There we met with Amanda, a fellow volunteer, who was kind enough to let us put up camp at her place. The next morning was an early one again, and after breakfasting at Amanda's, she gave us a tour of her school which boasted new buildings and state-of-the-art facilities. She even had a brand new computer lab, complete with a projector and white board, the only thing preventing it from being up and running was the school's reluctance to purchase sufficient power cords-much to Amanda's frustration.

We arrived at the Botswana border post around 2:00-and lost an hour with the time change- where we were admitted in without problem but were coerced into purchasing third-party insurance in addition to the insurance we had already purchased through the rental company. We were unimpressed by the lack of formality or any documental proof of our need for this insurance, but there seemed to be no way around it, so we surrendered our wallets to the unforeseen fees for what would not be the last time this trip.