Namibia

Namibia was what we had been waiting for and anticipated for so long but as time went by we longed to be back in Angola, the rotten roads, bush camping, all this because the adventure was over(for now). The roads were superb, petrol stations everywhere and steak, steak, steak, vegetables are more expensive than steak in Namibia!!

It was nice to have all the luxuries of course but our trip took a sharp turn toward the more angle of a holiday rather an adventure. Having said this there were a few things that remained the same that reminded us we where still in Africa in the form of punctures and spares or there lack of. Trying to get to the first town that had a motor cycle shop that could give me a new tube was an effort with the already large number of holes in the rear tube I had to replace the patches every 80 k’s due to the heat from the road and inadequate glue I was using! Eventually we made it and the Baja was desperately in need of a new chain and sprocket but of course there were no such sprockets available in Namibia so the only solution was to machine the centre of a new sprocket and the outside of our old one and weld the two together, so after a few days a few steaks and quite a few hot showers, first since Nigeria we were mobile again and headed for Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe.

Entering Zimbabwe.

Victoria Falss from below...........

.........and from above.

Zimbabwe, well what to say, besides a lack of fuel, an inflation rate the highest in the world at around 3000%, and a leader who seems to have lost all his marbles-its actually not to bad. Vic Falls was quite something as it should be I suppose been a natural wonder of the world and what better way to view it than to take a ultra light flight over the enormous falls, throwing mist hundreds of meters into the air.

We made the capital Harare in time to for the ANZAC Day service for all resident Aussies and Kiwi’s and visiting ones as well, we looked a little out of place in our travelling rags amongst the suits and dresses but once the good Aussie wine and local beer flowed people were all ears to our stories.

ANZAC Day, Harare.

On the road to Harare my dash mount had had enough breaking on the corrugations making me have to hold it up with my left hand for 2 days until we reached the capital. Luck was on our side as we met a fellow biker called Rocky(an ex boxer) who lets say owned an adult establishment and along with his help and welding gear we fixed my dash and few other little problems our bikes had.

Repairs, Me, Rocky and Mpose.

Rocky on his vintage BMW.

Amy picked up her new emergency passport, which would become the biggest hassle we would have to face in time to come, more on that one later. We headed south to Botswana and on our way taking a wrong turn lead us to some good fortune. We stumbled across a white owned farm and because of the man who lost his marbles is hard to find in Zimbabwe-a white owned farm! The owners Joan and Lara let us stay a few nights, maybe in time to come there will be no white people on the land, I sure hope not.

After a nice time there it was a short ride to Botswana, where the trouble begins……………..