Africa Day Seven - Chobe Chilwero

You guys can't even imagine how long I've been working on this entry. And it's not even a long entry! Or complicated! I just keep getting interrupted. Sorry...anyway, here goes:

In the late morning of our seventh day in Africa, we left the lions, and the Okavanga Delta, behind and boarded the puddle jumper for the short flight to the Chobe river, and Chobe Chilwero Lodge, where we meant to stay for the next few days. As we flew, Gavin pointed out various geological formations of interest out in the landscape beneath the plane - most notably, the glistening sands marking the Makgadikadi Pans. These are the remnants of an enormous lake, once covering nearly 31,000 miles. Unfortunately, it took a whole lot of sign language and finally resorting to jotting notes to one another, before we were able to understand what on earth he was talking about. He was seated several rows behind me, and the plane was rather loud.

That particular flight is engraved indelibly upon my memory. It was the first time that I nearly disgraced myself in flight. Ordinarily I don't suffer much from motion sickness. If I read in a car I'll feel a bit nauseous, and I'll stop and watch the center line on the road for a bit until it passes, but I cannot remember ever feeling like I might vomit while flying. I LOVE flying! Until the flight to Chobe Chilwero.

I don't know what, precisely, happened. But I can tell you this; the last half-hour of the flight I prayed for the bloody thing to land, over and over again - a litany for mercy within my own head. I prayed to every major deity I was familiar with, and a number of minor ones. Even a few fictional gods, just in case. Meanwhile I was surreptitiously searching around the plane for some kind of receptacle that I could latch onto in extremis. I was also feeling quietly miserable about the fact that my poor new brother-in-law Donnie was the unlucky bastard to be seated next to me, and hoping that he wouldn't hold me puking all over him against me for TOO long - I was thinking that maybe after five years he might forgive me. At one point, the plane began to descend, and the Hallelujah chorus kicked up behind my eyeballs, and I was thanking God, Buddha, Shiva, Jesus, Allah, my Agent, all the little people who voted for me, the goddess Annoia of the Rattling Drawers, and delivering a small internal speech about how when the going got tough, I just gritted my teeth and Stuck It Out...when the plane began to ascend again. WTF? The pilots of small planes are clearly sadistic bastards. I felt like crying. I also felt like throwing up. Saliva began to collect in my mouth; sour and horrible, and I swallowed it gamely because I once read someplace that it is a nausea suppressant. Whether or not that is the case I cannot say. It didn't make me feel any better, but I also didn't throw up immediately. Not a win, and not exactly a lose - I'd call it a wash except it was so damned gross. Long story short - I was not a happy camper. The subtleties of the Makgadikadi salt pans were totally lost on me. Geological marvels pale when viewed through a rising tide of bile. I stared out the window miserably, white knuckled my seat-belt, and wished for a quick death.

Then, about 15 minutes before we landed, it happened. I thought it was the end - that I'd lost the battle and was about to terrorize poor Donnie's pants and shoes. I felt something rising up my throat and I flailed for the nearest bag-shaped item while covering my mouth with one hand, a useless but instinctive gesture - when the lump cruise-missile-ing out of my throat erupted...into a tremendous burp. I would go so far as to call it an epic burp. It was the sort of burp that makes your reputation in trucker bars. It rolled from me inexorably. I gasped, apologized in a very small voice to the folks around me, and realized that I felt instantly normal again. It was unbelievable. Nausea a thing of the past.

Altitude, man. It's a bugger.

Safely arrived at the Kasane airport, everyone headed for the restrooms inside the airport. Luckily, all we had to do to process through was show our passports to a guy at a desk, and then it was a mad dash for the toilet facilities. At Kasane we saw evidence that the initiative to prevent AIDS from completely overtaking the African continent is in full effect:

After various calls of nature had been answered, we ventured out into the parking lot to find our rides. It was pretty easy to spot them.

Those small children there were collecting money for a local orphanage. Sandy dug down into his wallet to accommodate them.

And then we were on our way.

You'd figure in a place where the river floods for miles in all directions, water supply wouldn't be an issue...maybe this project is about DE-supplying the region?

Our first hint that this camp wasn't going to be quite like the other camps we stayed at was the gate.

I mean, at our last camp, we woke up one morning to an elephant outside our wee bungalow. This place had an electric fence! And because Gavin could, on occasion, resemble the good Doctor Grant from Jurassic Park, and here we were entering an enclave of sliding electric fence gates etc, many Jurassic Park jokes were made.

We are a family that likes our pop culture references, okay?

Personally though, I think Gavin is far more attractive than Sam Neill. That's between us though, guys. I don't want to hurt Sam Neill's feelings.

The second hint that this camp wouldn't be quite like the other camps, was the entrance.

Through a long gallery that had several terraced levels, you could look through to the vista of the Chobe river, in full spate, below. It took my breath clean away. I said, "are you kidding me?" a few times. Then I shoved my bags at Sandy and started taking pictures. Unfortunately, the camera couldn't capture it. Not even close.

We followed staff members out to our bungalows, and prepared for lunch. I didn't even ATTEMPT this one. Seriously? That's a huge pile of laundry right there. But I've been thinking about trying it at home. I think the head wrap is a big part of the equation, and I'm going to have to learn to do that first.

Reaching our bungalow, we received a second shock.

Ho Ho Hooooooooly Cow.

WHOO! And then a third shock.

You guys, I cried a little, I was so happy. Of course, there were still spiders in the shower, but they were tiny, and we had a good talk the first time I went in, so they mostly stayed in their corners and left me alone.

On our walk back up to the lodge for lunch, we ran across this Hornbill that had already started his.

Nom.

And this semi-creepy looking plant, called a Monkey Fingers.

You can pretty much see why.

And then there was lunch. With the Chobe roiling away below us.