Okavango: boats on the sand
Botswana welcomed us with a smile governmental. A sign in the office saying "smile officials, if you smile you make it ". No lying. The two gals that sealed passports tourist chapurreaban language shift between laughter. Are you happy?, asked. "For verte", I answer, and keep putting pictures in droves between hellos stumbled.
From there we went straight to one of those places that a traveler has always pending, el del Okavango delta. A strange river that rises from the depths of the Kalahari, to soak all of life and lost again among African drought. It is difficult to describe a site that runs on mocoros (a kind of canoes), through papyri, lilies and reeds and with stunning wildlife hidden in the environment (difficult, at least, transmit sensations). Lying on the boats, driven by a "puller", managing the mocoro with a long wooden stick dipped into the shallow waters drown the desert, life seems something simple. They drink the spring water, fish with red fish, sleep on the trail of a candle in the middle of an uninhabited island. And there are your, beholding as tens of hippos remind us that those are their lands, listening to their voices resound in the undergrowth, following the trail of one of the elephants that we saw in the slopes and (something personal) thinking that a small bar in the area to stay with a drink would be the culmination of a perfect day (is to cast at, I know). Is the defect we have some love with this thing get lost in the world, that if we figuring a winery in the suitcase to drink in sips solitary.
There are many unforgettable images of those two days: an evening in front of the Delta with vacilándonos light at will; some water on my head because I was already somewhat cracked mocorista, unable to keep up with the younger, and ended rowing to advance through palms ... But mostly there is a bathroom that punctuate the (message for my friend Juancho) in midstream. The pullers we asked how many wanted to bathe. In several of the group a few minutes soaking in the crystal clear waters of the Okavango, in the middle of a stream that seemed asleep but trailing Angola direction, soak up feeling the ass in the paradise, surrounded by invisible animals. One then dried in the sun, and use almost no eyes, understood as normal a hundred yards a group of elephants reluctantly watch the scene.
In several of the group a few minutes soaking in the crystal clear waters of the Okavango, in the middle of a stream that seemed asleep but trailing Angola direction, soak up feeling the ass in the paradise, surrounded by invisible animals.
After our night of river, returned to what would be our last night in this tent long bus ride. Search field site, a Tres kilometers, there is a small town dotted with thatched houses and wooden walls. Los niños corren tras nosotros, follow us, call us and laugh photos. Children smile in Africa, always, as a learned stimulus: catch your hand, Bailan the Bailas, Corren you corres. Something section we saw that there was a bar, Paramount, fragile looking, dry. In that place the music boomed weak marking a TV hanging from the corner. Videos musicales restricted to public, I had a client when we. But, the time it took to negotiate the price of beer was enough for seven children and teenagers lined the door to contemplate.
the time it took to negotiate the price of beer was enough for seven children and teenagers lined the door to contemplate
Sitting on a pool table that was missing one side looked on innocence and impudence. Then came a guy, Alfred, I immediately pidió a cigarette. Try quick conversationally, demonstrating more value than efficiency. "Where are?"" Spain ". "I want to marry a Spanish woman", reply (supongo que si le hubiéramos dicho de Alaska hubiera contestado que “yo me quiero casar con un oso polar). Alfred is one of those types encountered on these trips eternal conversation, where it starts talking about the origin and concludes by explaining that "I have no plans to come and live in Botswana", while he tries to convince you that you live great and puts faces do not understand. When I saw that the conversation, with just a beer, was to extend too, I gave him half of my remaining bottle and left (I pointed, yes, whole he likes more). Again good gesture upset the Alfred.
Thus ended my appointment with the Okavango expected, three nights in their surroundings and a memory for my life: the waters of vomiting and swallows the desert. The last view from an airplane was already, flying over the delta and the Chobe River. After half an hour the landscape became a little, I heard that shatters on these occasions, and went to see herds of buffalo thumbnail to watch the bottom of a plastic bag. There is no cure for my sickness dizziness, while endeavoring to sway me to where I am offered. It does, that flight is unique, with the bag without. We landed in Chobe National Park, another night in Botswana and Zimbabwe and I'll cross to take the promised beer off the Victoria Falls.
Post included in the Route: Kananga. Travel agency specializing in Africa.
