travels reminded me of the old movie "If This
Is Tuesday, It Must Be Belgium". When taking a tour, you
don't have to know where you are at each moment. In fact, you can
just go wherever you're taken without much worrying about exactly
where you are. That certainly was the case for travel to the Okavango
Delta. About noon we pulled into an unmarked dock in the delta.
Half an hour later we sorted through our supplies and loaded most
of them onto the boat. We climbed into some kind of motorboat and
sped off into the unknowns of the delta. And, we sped off too fast,
because the driver didn't even slow down for the hippos and crocodiles
we passed along the way.
I had no clue where our destination was or how long it would take.
We traveled about an hour until we came to what looked like a resort
of sorts. But, we soon learned that wasn't our destination. We were
piled on to the back of a truck (that also doubled for public transportation)
and headed off to a town, Saronga. Of course, we didn't know if
this was our destination either. The papers we were given talked
about a small village, do's and don'ts of photography, and don'ts
of giving treats to the children. This wasn't our village.
truck rumbled on to where the road eventually ended and the beginning
of our poleing experience. It wasn't Venice, but we were off into
the delta as fast as our polers could push us. It wasn't fast; it
was far. The delta canals got smaller and smaller as we proceeded
deeper into the bush. Grasses growing along both sides of the pathway
brushed against us. After two hours of this, the boats came to shore
with some other dugout canoes.
were no children to give presents to. There were no adults to carefully
photograph. There were no cold Cokes or hot showers. There was no
town. We'd gone two hours into the wilderness and were completely
surrounded by only wilderness. It wasn't what was expected, but
there was nothing to be done except laugh about it and set up camp
before the sun went down.