The Day We Said Goodbye to Namibia

Dia de nos despedirmos da Namíbia

📍 Livingstone, Zambia

My expectations for Namibia were high, but it ended up being better than I imagined — especially Caprivi and Sossusvlei. Today was the day to say goodbye.

We had breakfast without rushing. The shower at Kazondwe turned out not to be as bad as it seemed, and hot water was not a myth after all.

At breakfast, Suzanne called us over to see the remains of a snake that had been hunted by birds during the night. Paula's coffee suddenly didn't taste the same.

The day before, we had decided to stick to the plan and head to Chobe National Park — meaning we'd sleep in Zambia, but first passing through Botswana, which meant crossing two borders in the same day: Ngoma into Botswana, then Kazungula into Zambia.

The Namibia–Botswana border crossing took no more than ten minutes and, as soon as we entered, we were already inside the park on a roughly 60 km road leading to Kasane, the epicentre of Chobe National Park activities.

There was a chance of animals on the road, so the speed limit was 80 km/h. Paula really wanted to see an elephant — we hadn't spotted any in Etosha or Caprivi.

And so it happened, like a song request: I spotted an elephant crossing the road, then a smaller one. We stopped about 20 metres away, turned off the engine, and watched an entire family cross slowly from one side to the other.

We stayed still for a good ten minutes. The detour to Chobe had already been worth it.

We then headed to Kasane. We had a boat cruise at 3 pm.

The boat waiting for us was full and with a curious mix of people: from two couples who brought two cool boxes and quietly polished off a bottle of whisky in two hours, to a guy who went alone and slept through at least half the trip, plus a kid who just screamed and scared all the wildlife.

We were saved by Félix, the guide — a true professional, funny, knowledgeable, and with a sharp eye. Almost as good as Paula's, who also had her moments today… but I won't keep picking on the visually challenged.

At 6 pm we were still watching hippos and crocodiles when I remembered to check what time the Botswana–Zambia border closed.
6 pm, says ChatGPT.

I ask it to confirm. It confirms: 6 pm.

We started looking for hotels near the border, but that would have thrown our plans off a bit.

Meanwhile, Félix kept finding crocodiles and seemed determined to extend the tour past 6:30 pm.

I decided to consult the older brother of the chat: Google.

Border closing time: 8 pm. There's hope. We're the first off the boat, jumping over cool boxes, and we run to the car.

We arrived at the border at 7 pm, it was open, and an hour and a half later we heard "You may proceed, and welcome to Zambia" with a big smile. What happened between 7 pm and 8:30 pm was the Monty Python sketch of "the form, which form?" — but in English it takes longer.

We were so relieved the border was open that we endured the painful 90 minutes of meticulous bureaucracy in good spirits.

The most annoying part of the delay was driving the 70 km to Livingstone at night, on a road with no street lighting. We made it though — it was 9:30 pm — despite two quick and friendly stops at Zambian police checkpoints.

Tired, but certain the Botswana detour was worth it, Paula celebrated her three new countries on this trip: Namibia, Botswana, and Zambia.

Tomorrow we meet Tomek and Diego, and begin the transition to the next stage. Ahead of us: two days to discover Victoria Falls.

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