Botswana and Zimbabwe: Bumpy Rides, Hot Temperatures and Stressful Border Crossings!

 We spent the last two days in the Chobe National Park in Botswana marveling at the wildlife from both jeeps and boats.  The boat ride was far easier on our aging bodies compared to the bumpy and/or non-existent roads in the park.  The guides affectionately call these often harrowing rides, “African massages.”  After nearly two weeks of such travel, I think that a more accurate description is, “Future Fodder for Chiropractors.” None of our necks from all the bumping, will ever be the same. 

We spent one of the days in Zimbabwe, where we were anxious to see Victoria Falls, the tallest waterfall in the world and to visit a traditional African village, both being amazing and one of the highlights of our trip.  Getting into Zimbabwe however, proved to be quite a challenge.  After yet another spine and neck workout thanks to both the jeep and the “roads,” we arrived at what can only be described as the middle of nowhere, except for a couple of make-shift buildings.  On closer inspection, there were different flags on each building, indicating that we were not in “the middle of nowhere,” but rather on the Botswana/Zimbabwe border. The process in entering this country is a bit different than we had ever experienced.  First, we all had to have our temperatures taken and luckily, this was not a problem.  Our issues began when we learned while waiting with other travelers outside with the temperature hovering over 100 degrees, that we needed a Visa to enter the country.  This information would have been helpful prior to arriving. Our driver told us that the agent at the Zimbabwe desk told him that they had run out of paper applications and that we would have to apply and pay online.  This presented our second problem and as I have previously described, we were in the middle of nowhere and the internet, as can only be imagined, was spotty at best. On several occasions, our applications were stalled due to to a seemingly peek-a-boo-like internet. We frantically and unsuccessfully got to the front of the line without completing the application process.  The agent then informed us that our names were not in the computer, which made a whole lot of sense because our applications remained incomplete.  Needless to say, a developing mutiny was going on behind us as our fellow travelers were not so happy with the four clueless Yanks in the front of the line.  Eventually, Bob and I were able to complete our Visas, but instead of paying online as we were prompted, the agent said, “Do you have cash?” This seemed a bit sketchy, but we had the money (In US dollars) and we paid.  Judy and Mark’s Visa never came up online, but miraculously, a paper application was found, so that they too could pay for their Visas in cash.   after completing their Visas by hand. Fortunately, a full-blown mutiny was averted. 

Our return into Botswana was uneventful except that we had to step into a pan filled with some type of disinfectant that evidently kills the spread of malaria that our shoes could be bringing into the country.  It looked like muddy water to me. 

We are about to board a plane (I again use that term loosely) for the last leg of our journey to spend three days in Qorokwe in the Okavango Delta. I am embarrassed to say that, except for Mark, these particular African names are not rolling off any of our tongues. We have called it “Okinawa,” “Kookamonga,” and Cucaracha,” none of these names being remotely close.  I have resorted to calling this location “The Delta.” We will supposedly be sleeping in tents and potentially traveling by boats.  This may be a bit over-the-top for this weary traveler.  Fortunately, I still have plenty of bug-wipes left….