*And the glass was not only half full. It was gold plated with a permanent refill.
This past weekend I ventured to Kubu Island in the Makgadikgadi Salt Pans for some more camping and hiking. An island surrounded by saltpans and honestly one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. A place where the magical imagination games we used to play as kids still exist, where songs are written and it is enough to just be. A simplistic freedom resting in the distance as far as you can see. Because I can’t to justice in my explanation here is the description given by the Lonely Planet Guide to Botswana and Namibia:
“The Sowa, Nxai, and Ntwetwe Pans collectively comprise the 12,000-sq-km Makgadikgadi Pans. During the sizzling heat of late winter, the stark pans take on a disorienting and ethereal austerity. Heat mirages destroy the senses as imaginary lakes shimmer and disappear, ostriches take flight, and stones turn to mountains and float in mid-air. Prospective drivers should keep in mind that saltpans can have a mesmerizing effect, and even create a sense of unfettered freedom. Once you drive out onto the salt, remember that direction, connection, reason and common sense appear to dissolve. Although you may be tempted to speed off with wild abandon into the white and empty distance, exercise caution and restrain yourself. You should be aware of where you are at all times by using a map and compass (GPS units are not foolproof)"
This is my new happy place. We all split and decided to walk in different directions along the pan. Walking this way in the vastness where you are surrounded by absolute nothingness and a silence so still you can hear your thoughts. The whole experience was so transcending and when not in awe at the beauty of the sun or stars, was smiling and laughing with the team. My face hurt cause I don’t think I stopped smiling all weekend.
With bravery and incredible tolerance for the other three-backseat drivers, Thomas challenged the opposite side of the road as we got to enjoy the comfort of having our own car for the weekend. Thomas’ home-stay dad Mots had lent us his 1998 Toyota Windom. After the fruitless car search of weekends past this in itself was quite the feat. We named her “Amantle” (Setswana for “something good”) she brought us that and so much more in smooth travel.
After not seeing a single check stop during our travels thus far, we were pulled over within the first five minutes of our journey. We were so lucky that Faisal (who knows how to drive on the opposite side, but failed to bring his license) last min decided it would be best not to risk it. And off we went… windows down driving dance party to Tik Tok. I defiantly didn’t picture myself road tripping this way through the African savannah but was loving every minute of it!
Driving past a diamond mine, we arrived in a small village where we were to pay for the campsite (all funds going to the community) and then continue the drive onto the saltpans… or so we had planned. The ranger took one look at our car and laughed…”yeah your not going to be able to get there with that.” He arranged for a truck to come pick us up and so we waited… and waited, and then we waited some more. I am getting used to this whole waiting game but even so we were all struggling to hold back frustrations as the afternoon turned to dusk and the truck finally pulled up. Hopping into the back we braced ourselves for a bumpy two-hour drive. Going over rocky hills and though deep sand it was clear that the car wouldn’t have made it. We sat huddling against the wind and listening to Thomas’s parental concern to dip, duck and dodge the thorny tree branches whizzing past us. The bush cleared and we found ourselves confronted with the immensity of the pans and painted sky of the setting day. And then the stars came out. And we sat in a silence of smiles. Riding hands above heads riding with the thrill of a rollercoaster. The wind was warm smelling of salty freshness and the landscape surrounding us flowing like an ocean in the darkness. We talked about the magnitude and content of living in this moment. That despite our earlier frustrations everything has a plan and we need to find the faith to enjoy the process of the universe working in its unknown and beautiful ways. Even though I have been told, “this trip will change me” I am always shocked when I realize how much it already has.
Kubu Island is a national monument and a sacred sight for indigenous groups, predominately the San. These people believed God lived beneath the island’s giant rocks. Also an archeological
site, it is common to find artifacts such as arrowheads, cooking utensils and signs from the past life there. On one shore, there lies a stonewall that is thought to date back even further then 500 years ago, to the Great Zimbabwean Empire.
Camp was set up on the island our tent resting under the Baobob tree of Impala Camp 11. The story behind the Baobob tree is quite interesting, it was said that the tree mocked the Gods so they picked it up and turned it upside down. And so now even to day it stands, an upside down tree.
The fire was started and the boys began their meal to be judged in our Top Chef: Island Edition competition. The guidelines clearly set before our grocery-shopping trip was that each team would provide two meals, lunch and dinner within a set budget. The boys made grilled peri-peri chicken and a mixed vegetable salad followed by bear, banana boats and marshmallows (which are oddly strawberry flavored here). As delicious as their meal was they somehow failed to buy groceries for lunch…
Although they would never admit it, they didn’t stand a chance against Isabelle and I. The following day we provided cinnamon buns for breakfast (warmed by the fire), peanut butter sandwiches and bananas (to cover their lunch oversight) and then a dinner of garlic bread, whole grain cork screw pasta, tomatoes basil sauce, marinated and grilled zucchini, red pepper, mushrooms, onion, tomatoes and Russian sausage. Once again confirming that girls rule and a testimony to our over competitive nature. Stay tuned for Top Chef: Okavango Delta where the boys will attempt an unlikely comeback.
In the morning we got up to watch the sunrise enjoy some yoga and set off to explore the island and pan. Its strange that so far this is the best memory I will take back with me and one of the most difficult to find words for. Basically it was a great time. The Makgadikgadi Pans were once part of a giant lake that stretched over 60,000 sq. km. Approximately 10,000 years ago the lake evaporated, leaving behind a void of salt stretching the horizon. On the pan we walked and ran, all perception of time and space was lost. The ground was like an indoor track, soft and spongy making for a freeing barefoot experience. We looped the island, cart wheeled, did some rock climbing, lookout points, enjoyed the baobob fruit of rafiki, stood on pride rock, special places, followed by even more special moments, king of the castle, historical shrines, archeological sites, massive baobob trees, burnt to a crisp, high-fived, joked a lot, laughed constantly and returned to our camp for the previously described meal, beers and sunset over the salt. I think it was difficult for everyone to describe the mood. I will always remember sharing smiles and Thomas saying, “I am just so happy right now.” And so was I. There was no place I would rather be.
Around the fire that night we sang Oh Canada and campfire songs, shared stories and then ventured into the darkness through the bush and onto the pan. The four of us lay there under a blanket of stars. The vastness contributing to our giddiness of the moment. All I could feel was the others beside me… our laughter drifting into the night to be joined by that of the hyenas in the distance. A true testament that laughter is in deed contagious.
Photo credit to the talented Isabelle Jones, Faisal B and Thomas Parente. I can't wait for many more adventures to come!
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