Etosha → Rundu — Lions, a Flooded Track, and the Okavango

Etosha → Rundu — Leões, uma Pista Inundada e o Okavango

📍 Rundu, Namibia

I woke up at 5am, my body has figured out the routine. But I had to wait until 6am for her to wake up. No problem, I went down to the lake to see if there were any elephants. There weren't.

The plan was to have breakfast and leave early, because it's the longest driving day: nine hours, and that's a conservative estimate.

We only have fuel for 300 km, and the next petrol station is 260 km away. We need to save, but the first 150 km are inside Etosha with constant stops to watch wildlife. We'll keep an eye on it.

First hours of safari, nothing!! Just the crossing of a flooded section over 50 metres long, with water reaching the windscreen. No photos, we both had other things on our minds at that moment. A shame.

We carried on and, beyond the water crossings, there wasn't much excitement, until, almost at the end, a pair of lions "making love". A ritual I'd seen in documentaries but never in person. I felt like a voyeur, but never mind, National Geographic started it.

Then a waterhole full of life. Right, it was worth it.

When we left the park we still had the drive to Tsumeb to refuel and clean the windscreen, which had become impossible to see through.

On to Rundu, through a landscape that reminded me of central Mozambique's interior, which also happens to be my neck of the woods. I'll write more about that tomorrow.

Arriving in Rundu and finally setting eyes on the Okavango, which here is called the Kavango and in Angola the Cubango. A river with no mouth, but with a delta. It ends in Botswana, in the famous Okavango Delta, dying in the Kalahari Desert, absorbed by the earth and the sun.

I made several mental notes about the Okavango and about tourism in Mozambique and Namibia, and as soon as Paula takes the wheel and I have some time to write, I'll post about it.

In Rundu we had a traditional dinner, millet (it tasted like quinoa) and chicken curry, plus Namibian badjia (they don't call it badjia, but it's the same thing). We also walked straight into a room with a freestanding bathtub in the middle, a classic of my Africa. With me in it, it would make an excellent Men's Health cover, but I will deny that photo was ever taken.

We're on the banks of the Kavango river and we can hear hippos (Paula thinks they're frogs). Earlier I had asked one of the staff here if I could go for a swim, and the answer was "not advisable", with a wrinkled nose. I now understand why.

We fell asleep to the sound of giant frogs, which here in Africa are better known as hippos.

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