MOZAM BIQUE’S Okavango?
RUMOURS were that some of the huge pans in the Parque Nacional do Banhine (Banhine National Park) were full of water for the first time in 20 years. Toyota Prado 150s are capable vehicles but amphibious they are not, so while wading through swamps might appeal to some, I did seriously consider postponing this adventure to a later (and hopefully drier) date.
After consultations with people along my planned route, I discovered that, apart from a short stretch near the coast which had received a lot of rain, the Mozambican area south of the Save River (from Vilanculos) was actually unusually dry for this time of year. The disappointing news was the pans of Banhine were unlikely to be holding much water.
Not allowing the facts to spoil a good rumour, I decided to take a look for myself and loaded the Prado with the essentials: inflatable kayak, mini compressor pump, BIC lighter and a bag of oranges. I headed north from Johannesburg towards the Pafuri Border Post via Louis Trichardt and the Soutpansberg Mountains.
I had departed early in the morning and passed that iconic sculpted granite outcrop alongside the N1 called Kranskop near Modimolle (Nylstroom), just as the sun was starting to cast long shadows across the tarmac. It was fantastic to share this great road north with just a couple of other cars. I pulled off for a cup of coffee and to check the load on my roof rack. I even had time for a short nap.
As I approached Polokwane (Pietersburg), I decided to skip the bypass and drive through the town as I had done so many times before; firstly when I was a small boy on the way to (then) Rhodesia and more recently, on my way to Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi or Mozambique. It was still early so traffic was not a problem and even the streets and sidewalks seemed to be neat and clean.
In Louis Trichardt, which has tenaciously clung to its original name, I stopped at the Game store to buy a hand pump and a couple of SD cards. My inflatable and my camera would have been useless baggage without these.
The misty Soutpansberg Mountains loom large over Louis Trichardt like a worried shepherd. As Awelani Lodge, my first overnight stop, was just three hours away, I decided an early lunch with a
