The Rubber Meets the Asphalt—FINALLY!
While I’ve been in South Africa for a night already, and already had my experience with the lunatic with the machete, I was counting this as day one.
My first night was to be spent at the Khama Rhino Sanctuary located near Serowe, Botswana, a drive of 593 km (368 miles) and it was now far later, than I really wanted to be hitting the road, I was just hoping upon hope that the border formalities crossing into Botswana wouldn’t take too long.
Britz to Khama Rhino Rest Camp, Serowe, Botswana – Google Maps
Cruising north, I progress though Pretoria without much drama, even with the evening traffic, I’m feeling good about making time, on highway N1 it’s a multi-lane expressway, where I can pretty much go as fast as the Land Cruiser will comfortably go without pushing it so hard it consumes vast quantities of fuel. Which given this is a normally aspirated three liter, six-cylinder diesel engine with a 5-speed manual transmission that has the aerodynamics of a brick wall isn’t much over the speed limit of 120 kph (75 mph).
After 340 km (211 miles) I lost my fast road, and began on the R33 a two lane road with occasional passing lanes, not making the same speeds, but on the plus side, also not consuming fuel at such an alarming rate either. After about 75 km on this road, I come upon a line of stationary vehicles, at first I think it’s just a bottle neck as we approach a town, but then after we don’t move for 5 minutes, and I see people getting out of the vehicles I know it’s not that simple. It turns out there was a very bad accident up ahead, and a helicopter came in, landed on the road, and evacuated the injured. I remember trying to think be glad it’s not me, and I’ve only suffered an hour delay, those poor people are suffering far more.
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The sun was setting as I approached the Botswana border, it was around 6 pm, and I’m now accepting I’ll be driving in the dark for about 200 km (124 miles), something I was hoping to avoid. And the border crossing is NOT quick or simple. Very confusing in fact, as there are no “start here” signs and series of buildings in no particular order of where to begin. The longest line appears to be passport control and immigration, so I start there, and it’s about an hour to get through. Finally with my Botswana stamp in my passport, I go to the exit, only to be turned back around and told I need to register the vehicle for entry. This is a multi-step process, where you also must buy liability insurance, fortunately they take credit cards. As I leave, South Africa the road suddenly disappears. A major construction project has me rerouted on a dirt road with potholes large enough to swallow a small animal, and dust so thick it’s hard to see where you are going, I turned off the headlights, and at least that helped.
Reunited with the paved road again, after 40 km (25 miles) of slow dusty driving, I begin to notice another hazard, cows and donkeys on the road! It’s slow going, and a more stressful drive as a result, but finally, I see up ahead the lights of the town of Serowe and know my destination isn’t far now (if they are still open).
I pull up to the gate, which is closed, but, it opens up and a nice older man comes out bundled up like an Eskimo. It is chilly, but I’d not call it cold, I sign in and am told which camp site I’ve been assigned to, and head in, wondering if I’ll see a Rhino right way (boy was I naïve).
I get into camp and am somewhat nervous stepping out of my vehicle, I have no idea what is around me or what animals might be lurking or slithering. I pop up the roof top, which contains my bed, and I snack on some trail mix, which I chase with a couple of cans of beer, all by light of my flash light as I can’t figure out why the camper lights won’t turn on, then I crawl into bed for my first night’s sleep in the bush “lite” of Botswana.