Botswana should be easy riding in theory. It’s flat, and the roads are mainly decent. However, the lack of any ups does come with the lack of any downs: the freewheeling moments of relief. And the scarcity of supplies along the route mean weighing down our bikes with extra litres of water and peanut butter. Then add in the headwinds and our longest back to back stretches and you’ve got a recipe for sore knees and tired legs. Not forgetting the energy sapping constant animal scanning we have to do on the roads here. We did over 500km in the few days before arriving at Old Bridge in Maun. Crikey we were happy at the prospect of four, yes that’s right ladies and gents FOUR WHOLE DAYS out of the saddle. Other cyclists and travellers we’ve chatted to have laughed at our itchy feet. Our only taking one day off and keep moving attitude. So where better to throw that out of the window than the gateway to the Okavango Delta. Sitting at the geographical heart of southern Africa, the Okavango Delta has been coined “the closest thing to Eden left on the planet”. It’s a 15,000 square kilometre wetland wilderness of grassy islands, rustling reeds and lagoons blanketed by water-lilies. The locals call the water from its rivers Delta Champagne.
We were staying on the banks of the Thamalakane River, just outside of the Okavango. Old Bridge Camp is the place to be in Maun. Everyone says so. And they’re not wrong, our tours and adventures were easily organised and the bar and restaurant was always bustling with people. Our first day off the bikes, we decided to have a chillled life admin day, and our biggest exercise was wandering the aisles of Choppies supermarket (their banana cream biscuits are extraordinary) and lifting a beer or two. The next morning we were up and packed ready for our overnight mokoro trip. A mokoro is a simple boat used to scoot around the waterways of the Delta. It looks like a tree trunk that has been hollowed out and the top sliced off. And I’m sure the originals were exactly that. Ours for the tour was a plastic one which I’m guessing is a more recent version. The mokoros are steered and driven much in the same way as the boats in Venice. It was like punting. But in Africa. So less Pimms, more threats of hippos.
Our mokoro driver was a young chap called Feti. He can’t have been older than 20, had a diamond earring and a Nike cap on. He looked nothing like our usual khaki clad guides and I don’t think we could really decide what to make of him at first. The 2 hours slinking through the reeds and water lilies to our campsite were so peaceful that we didn’t want it to end. Not the same for poor Feti I imagine as he pushes us through the water in the midday sun.
Setting up the campsite was all pretty easy (we are tent pros nowadays) and we settled into a few hours of relaxing before our evening walk. The dusky walk took us past beautiful ancient baobab trees, and through scrubland to find towering giraffes and finally snorting hippos in a pool at sunset. You never get used to an African sunset, all the reds and oranges from the dust in the air. Each one is spectacular.
There was one scary moment when we could clearly hear some sort of animal coming to a nasty squawking end pretty close by. And it was getting dark. Our conversation with Feti went a bit like this (as did most of our discussions)
Naomi: Feti, what is that noise?
Feti: Warthog Naomi: Ok. Should we be worried? Feti: No. Just warthog Naomi: But why is it making that noise? Feti: Another animal has got warthog Naomi: Yes. Should we be worried about that animal? Feti: No that animal has had its dinner now Dinner for us was pre-cooked pasta in a bag. Life isn’t always glamourous. Our sunrise walk was just as eventful. Herds of zebra and wildebeest galloping around, giraffe families lolloping by as well as kudu and antelope in the distance. After another stint of relaxing with a book, we hopped back into the mokoro to head back to camp.
That’s when we received an introduction to the highway codes of the Okavango. Rule number one: elephants always have the right of way. Even if they’re not crossing the river in front of you and they’re just swinging their grassy lunch around on be banks - you must wait. Once the elephant had finally crossed and given you enough space to pass, you should still crouch down in your boat so as not to make him trumpet and mock charge. Even if you crouch down, you may have a grumpy elephant and he will stomp about at you regardless. Rule number two: do not disturb the hippos. If you’re passing through reeds and everyone looks bloody terrified and is staying silent, it’s because of the big bull hippo that has been spotted that morning. All in all, a less relaxing, but wholly Africa return boat trip home.
The following day we really treated ourselves. It was something we’d never have been able to afford or consider had we not received such generosity so far in Botswana. And so we did it. We booked a scenic flight over the Okavango Delta. Turning up to the airline office, we had a slight setback in that we didn’t have our passports. A death ride in a taxi to camp and back later and we were ready, passports in hand. The little 8 seater propeller plane sat on the tarmac waiting for us to embark. As we climbed inside, we tried to ignore the smashed front windscreen, or the last minute flight tips being given to our very young looking pilot.
Taking off was a bumpy affair, but once we were in the air and flying over the Okavango, all plane related worries melted away. The vastness of the Delta came to life, the blues, greens and yellows. And animal spotting was a really fun game: toy sized elephants, impala, rhinos and giraffes grazing or playing in the water. Charlie captured the same baobab tree we had camped close to the previous night, and Naomi is certain she spotted a lion but who knows if that’s true... It’s fair to say that flying at just 150m above the ground leads to quite a bit of turbulence, and with that a wee bit of nausea might have creeped up on one of us.
One of the other great things about the Old Bridge, aside from giving us the key to seeing the Delta from all angles, was the opportunity to chat with other travellers. We even came across a fellow, albeit more impressive, cyclist (taking on the world) and doing Africa upside down (heading up from Cape Town). We swapped saddle stories and tips for our upcoming routes over a few beers with Josh. It turned out that Josh was looking for a cause to champion as part of his cycle. As you can imagine, it didn’t take us more than two seconds to start waxing lyrical about The Egmont Trust. The usual and easy selling points...every penny donated, straight to Africa...amazing charity partners...homegrown heroes...life changing and life saving work... And he was sold! The next minute we are emailing Egmont and setting it all up. It’s right to say that there’s a little bit of ego that goes into the fundraising. So saying to ourselves that every penny raised by Josh was spurred on by us and wouldn’t be there for the Egmont partners without us spreading the word comes with a self pat on the back, of course. As does watching our little MyDonate page grow. My pants would well and truly be on fire to say that our competitive side doesn’t smile at every donation. However, that’s not the driving force. We don’t see the money, it makes no practical difference to our ride and adventure how much we raise. But we have seen the power of the money that Egmont ploughs into the Africa partners. And, we have seen the continuing need in communities not yet reached by Egmont. Communities where people have spent four years just trying to set up a nursery and failing for lack of financial support. So, if you’re reading this and you’ve been thinking about donating - don’t put it off. Do it now. Here’s the link:
It couldn’t be easier. Then you can give yourself a pat on the back for doing something really extraordinary. And if you want to go one step further, share our story with friends, family, coworkers. Whoever might be interested in sponsoring two idiots who’ve never attempted anything like this before, for the most worthwhile of causes. Let’s smash the £5,000 target we set and make a real difference.
