Into the bush

Friday 20th March

We didn’t make it out of Maun that day. Feeling slightly down, we headed back to the house and unloaded the car. Instead of sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves (and the poor computers that were riddled with viruses –I think Anna’s antivirus software was up to about 500 threats and still counting at that point) we decided to try out the boat that had been leant to Anna & Graham and which we were going to take to the camp with us. We drove down to the river, launched the boat and as the motor seemed to be working we happily climbed on and off we went. Until just five seconds later the motor died. It did not start working again despite three men tried to sort it out. We also noticed that the boat was sinking fast (luckily only because of a misplaced plug) so in the end we didn’t hesitate to accept another boatman’s offer of taking us for a ride down the river. We’d also taken a picnic of cold beer and snacks with us – life was good.

Later on we went to have dinner and few more drinks at the nearby River Lodge where I met a few more people A&G knew. That’s also were I bumped into a fellow Finn Janette. It had taken me only about two and a half days to meet another Finnish person in Botswana – unbelievable. What’s wrong with those people? They get everywhere.

The following morning we finally managed to leave Maun. Well, actually, it wasn’t until after midday, after we’d sorted out the computers and had early lunch. But then, off we went. Anna’s Toyota and the boat on a trailor, the load and me at the back with all the stuff. Quite comfortable actually, as I was lying on a bedroll. I watched the scenery as we drove down the road: the mud hut villages popping up every now and then, villagers going on about their daily life, their colourful clothes, the children smiling and waving, riding donkeys, carrying stuff, or on their way back from school. As the afternoon went on it started getting hotter and hotter in the car, but the few times we stopped and got out of the car it was even hotter outside.

We just made it for the last ferry across the Okavango river, and got to the other side as the sun was setting. A teacher from a village near where we were going hitched a lift, so now it was the load, me, and this guy at the back of the car, for the final three hours of the journey. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) for him, I was not on a very chatty mood after the long journey even though he was curious about a Finnish girl from London travelling to a remote village in Botswana. I did agree to show him some pictures from London I had in my camera though – it was the first time he’d seen a picture of the Tower Bridge. He thought it was beautiful.

We arrived in the camp after ten o’clock and it was pitch black by then (the sun sets here at about 7.15pm), When I say pitch black, I mean pitch black. Not London kind of “dark”. I stepped out of the car and heard a laud groan just behind the nearest bush. My heart jumped. “What was that?” “Not to worry, just a hippo”, Graham reassured me.

After a quick dinner of pasta we headed for our tents, and Anna and Graham wished me good night. I zipped up my tent’s door behind, and there I was: on my own, in my tent – my home for the next three months. I thought it would be quiet here in the wilderness, but it far from it: it was noisy as anything. The frogs, the hippos, the god-knows-whats. The worst thing was not knowing what was out there, and I didn’t have the slightest interest in finding out either. That tent door was to be zipped up tight until the sun would rise again.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life as I was that night. “Terrified” doesn’t come anywhere near to describe how I felt. I laid there and expected a lion to come and eat me any minute – and yes I know that’s not very rational. After a while I put my earplugs on and managed to slip into a light sleep. I can’t say that I slept well that night.