Dear Margie and Janet

We would like to express our heartfelt thanks to our dearly-loved mothers for bringing us up so well, for ensuring we have impeccable manners and are two perfect young ladies without actually having sent us to finishing school.

Well, alas, we're sorry to say our standards have dropped a little whilst on the Djin and Tonic tour of Central and West Africa. We have been known to :-

• wear the same clothes for a week at a stretch, only putting on clean things when we know we can do the laundry
  
• when lunching on the road, we lick the knife clean first, give it a rinse from our water bottle, dry it on our skirt and we're good to go
  
• drink the leftover juice straight out of the bowl after eating the mango
  
• shout profanities out the window at the appalling drivers on the road
  
• not wash our hands
  
• hang our knickers on the back burglar bars to dry after washing them in the shower (not sure what they make of it at police check stops)
  
• use the same dishcloth to dry dishes and our hands and only get around to washing it every second week
  
• go out without a bra. Support isn't everything, comfort and coolness is.
  
• eat peanut butter/Tartina straight out the jar
  
• let Peggy sleep on the beds
  

But, you'll be pleased to know we still brush our teeth twice a day.

Thanks Moms, we love you!.

Merry Christmas from Benin

Here we are in Benin, having arrived 14 days ago after a 6 day dash across Nigeria where we encountered many scary police and military checkpoints and almost had the car impounded after it passed all other tests of lights and presence of fire extinguishers and triangles but they were delighted to figure they could bust us for the right-hand drive car! However, the further north and east we got, the less intimidating it became and we crept over a little used border into the safety of friendly Benin on 6 December. We made our way south to Porto Novo, then east along the coast where we've holed up for nearly a week at Grand Popo (which apparently means “Big Poo” in French!). There, the Atlantic crashes into a steep shelf, making swimming very dangerous. But other than that, it's idyllic – the sea is a beautiful blue, the sand golden and we were treated to a pod of porpoises dancing in the breakers one day. Peggy had a fantastic time running free, and now even sleeps outside the tent at night, although I do tether her, for fear someone will steal her. (More than once, we've been asked to give her away!)

We're back in Cotonou now to collect our Ghanaian visas (which were issued yesterday) shop for our tour of the north and get the car seen to. Preshy has ongoing fuel supply issues (probably as a result of the accident in DRC) and the latest looks like a fault in the fuel injection pump. More thumbs must be held that the Land Rover dealer in Accra can resolve this in early Jan without the need to import more parts from South Africa. It's becoming a bit expensive and DHL is making a fortune out of us, never mind local import duties.

Tomorrow we head into the Muslim north for Christmas, escaping the Crimbo tat that even little Benin is victim of – note our cheesy Crimbo hats. The Tanongou Falls are on the edge of the Park National de la Pendjari and it sounds like a good place to be if we can't actually get into the park itself. We'll try, but it's unlikely Peggy will be allowed. No matter, we know that birds don't respect park boundaries and we expect to be able to sit in our chairs at the falls sipping a nice crisp Sauvignon Blanc (a little “dear Djin 'n Tonic from Djin 'n Tonic Christmas present) on Christmas day while thinking of our dear families and friends at home and around the world. The Sauv Blanc probably won't last very long, so we'll have to remember to have a back-up supply of tonic for the cheap “Le Vieux” gin we currently have in stock! Same gin must see us through New Year too, it being Djin's birthday on the 31^st.

Wishing you all a very merry Christmas and a blessed New Year. May 2013 be full of happiness and adventures!

We did it!

We reached the summit of Mount Cameroon on Sunday 25th just before midday in sleet, howling wind and blasts of thunder, crunching through volcanic ash at 4095m. Perhaps not a huge feat for the mountaineers amongst you, but for us it was quite an achievement.

It was hell, but exhilarating. The gradient so steep my ears kept popping on the way up and on the way down again - no gradual, winding tracks, just straight up the side of an active volcano. The descent was radical - will our toenails recover? The temperatures ranged from flippin' hot to freezing cold, so cold we couldn't move our hands and poor Peggy shivered whenever we stopped to catch our breath.

Other than that, Peggy took it all in her four-legged stride and probably hiked the mountain twice with all the running up ahead and then back to herd us up. She'd give the runners in the Race of Hope a run for their money. One of our porters is preparing to run the race for the 5^th time. Look out for William Ekema in Feb next year!

A Little Bit of Belo

The glint of new zinc roofs on a hundred rolling green hills from which a dozen waterfalls tip their load into fast moving rivers. Small pockets of indigenous bush and forest being taken over by gum trees, coffee and bananas. Still, a host of birds to delight us - and frustrate us - we never saw that Bannerman's Turaco!

One tarred road, the others, dirt tracks and footpaths. All a slippery red clay making walking in the wet a dangerous feat, like walking on ice – uphill! We wondered at the learnt skill of these women on their way to church in ill-fitting stiletto heels, while we lurched from one step to the next – in our hiking boots!

Scores of motor bike "taxis" hovering around like vultures at "3 corners," the main intersection - blinged out and pimped up with "all in one" designer leather seat and tank covers, flags, plastic flowers and mud flaps inscribed with the likes of "Plan with God," "The Don" and "Fear women." They have right of way so beware the person who doesn't hear them free-wheeling down the hill – you may loose your arm!

It is the men who wear the traditional clothing – an elaborately decorated wide, loose tunic and matching pants, a fez type hat and hand painted bead necklace. It seems a carved wooden stick is a status symbol as only the older men carried them. The women are more modern and it is not unusual to see a lady out on her daily chores wearing a shiny satin evening dress with ALL the frills and ruffles.

Every 8 days it is market day. The town gears up in their finest (said evening dress) to be seen and meet up with their friends in the seeming chaos and dust. There are stalls selling fruit and vegetables, others with gaudy synthetic clothing and second hand shoes, more stalls with hunks of bloodied meat and strong smelling dried fish, another selling exercise books, needles, insect killer and pens - around another corner you can buy shucked peanuts out of a wheelbarrow by the beach bucket full or ready boiled tubers. Another with racks of wax print cloth  - the colours and patterns overwhelming - too many to choose from. This day is followed by "Country Sunday," a day of rest, well earned after all the bustle.

Our neighbours – the Full Gospel Church - each day we are accosted by the wailing and lamenting of "Fire, fire!" and "In the naaaaame of Jesssusss!" - accompanied by the worst band ever! - an out of beat drummer, a discordant organist and the most tone deaf singer ever to have crooned down a microphone. We were even blessed by an all night vigil - twice! Why in the world they have a following is a mystery.

 

Our new friends - "Tu lai ma" - as we meet every morning for discussion and sewing - their kindness, smiles and enthusiasm for what we wanted to share with them warming our day and making the journey meaningful.

 

A bit of Belo will travel with us -  in our hearts.

Ode to Tartina

Tartina and...

Banana

Bananas and Peanut Butter
Bananas and Peanut Butter and Ginger
Bananas and Peanut Butter and Ginger and Cinnamon
Bananas and Peanut Butter and Ginger and Cinnamon on Bread
Bananas and Peanut Butter and Ginger and Cinnamon on a Pancake
Straight up on a spoon for pudding or on abiscuit with morning tea as a wake-up call

Ah Tartina... Nutella on the cheap!

Happy Birthday Peggy

Peggy turned 3 yesterday.  Birthday cake all round and G&T's for the humans, of course!

Overlanding Barbie

As space in Precious is mostly taken up by food, spares, tools and camping kit, the number of outfits in the overlander's wardrobe is determined solely by function. There's little room for mix-and-match ensembles and even if there was, the fact that it must all be tucked and squashed in the backpack means that there is no opportunity for standing in front of the cupboard trying to decide what to wear. As a result, we have a number of “Barbie” outfits that are used depending on the activity of the day.

Daily Barbie

We each have 2 Daily Barbie outfits, that are lightweight and sleeveless, don't show the dirt too much and can be worn for days on end without needing a wash. (Of course, the overlander's standards of cleanliness are severely limited along with space!) Daily Barbie outfits are usually only changed when the current one can be washed – all dependent on available water.

Border Control Barbie

The Border Control Barbie outfit is similar to the daily, but with covered shoulders and generally kept marginally cleaner so as to make a good impression when trying to enter a new country. Also used for visits to the embassies when applying for visas.

Malaria Barbie

Malaria Barbie outfits are long-sleeved and long-legged in thick fabric with socks and sandals to match – a fetching look! They are stiflingly hot to wear but are the only way to avoid being bitten, or at least reduce the chances. This outfit is teamed with lashings of insect repellent for us and Peggy.

Car Maintenance Barbie

For working on Precious, I have the Car Maintenance Barbie outfit, suitably scruffy and covered in grease. 

Exercise Barbie

In an effort to keep fit, “Jogging Barbie” is a baggy ensemble designed to permit free movement without offending the locals by showing too much leg or arm. For practising yoga, Jen has a “Yoga Barbie” outfit, while I generally make do with yesterday's vest and a kikoi. (Jen is definitely the better dressed on the Djin and Tonic tour.)

Beach Barbie

Of course there is Beach Barbie, with the inevitable cozzie and kikoi. These pics have been censored, due to the indecency of the exposure and the age of the models!

Going out Barbie

Even Overlanding Barbie loves to go out!  We might not get into the Hilton in these, but they're fine for the local bars.

 

News flash!

Djin and Tonic are now in the Northern Hemisphere

Safari in “Survivor” Territory

In need of a holiday from the stresses of city life, Djin and Tonic took themselves on Safari to Nyonié for one night – tight budget!

On Wednesday morning, we left our Precious at the Auberge in Libreville and caught a taxi to the Marina to get the boat to Nyonié. (It's only possible to get there by boat. Imagine!) Peggy was allowed to come too. Imagine that! And, the lodge at Nyonié played host to the Survivor Gabon team, which is the TV show that got Jen going on Gabon. More imagination! Luckily, we didn't have to eat any weird things – in fact, we ate more lettuce and butter than the rest of our 5 months away. Nor did we have to do any weird tricks, apart from donning our bikinis and frightening everyone else off the beach.

The boat ride there was pretty uneventful with good weather, so we could enjoy the scenery across the Gabon Estuary and through the mangrove swamps without worrying about falling out. It was a small boat with only one functioning engine and was stocked with supplies for the lodge: baguettes aplenty, a whole case of Famous Grouse (Jen was pleased), and loads of soda but no tonic water (we were worried). Peggy is turning out to be a real old sea dog.

 

The boat pitched us out at a village, where we were collected by the lodge's safari bakkie. Not quite the safari vehicles we have at home and a lot more bumpy, but still fun. At the lodge, we were met by the charming Bernard and owner, Betsy (a Frenchman) who invited us to make ourselves at home. We didn't need much encouragement and climbed right in. Jen assessed the bar stock and reported the dirth of tonic. O-la-la! She did find several varieties of pastis and tried a few out in her coke. Bel refused to adulterate her rare coke treat and drank one quickly so she had time for the next. (We're a bit cheap and scaly on the Djin and Tonic tour!) Peggy instantly made friends with the resident dogs and dashed off to hunt the licorice allsorts agamas (lizards).

Just as we'd devoured the bowl of olives (French imports), the lunch gong went. We were thrilled to find MANY bottles of chilled Bordeaux Rouge to accompany the delicious onion quiche and salad shared at the communal dinner table with a French family on a military posting to Gabon and a Spanish couple visiting Gabon for a cultural event. After lunch, the Europeans retired for a siesta while the scruffy overlanders explored the beach. On such a splurge, it seemed a waste to sleep.

At 4pm, everyone piled into the safari bakkie and we shot off on a “game rally”. I say “rally”, because the speed at which we travelled was rarely less than 40km/h with no stops, not even for sundowners. Bernard sped up to forest elephants and goaded them into charging.

The Europeans loved it. We were horrified. Back home in the dark, dinner was waiting. More lettuce, buttery vegetables and le Bordeaux Rouge froid to fuel discussions on “the state of Africa” until the wee hours, which put paid to Bel's hope of an early morning walk in the forest.

The following morning we did a bit of birding before breakfast. (What? No eggs?) Then we played on the beach before lunch. (Yes! More Bordeaux!) And then it was time to throw our stuff in our bags and get the boat back to Libreville. We found a huge fish thrashing around the deck of the boat when we climbed in – the driver had fished it out of a sandbank on his way to fetch us. Peggy was terrified. Then the driver couldn't get the second motor started, so Jen took the helm and added to her travel CV.

Crossing the estuary, we were bashed by huge waves and got completely soaked, so were in a need of a stiff gin on arrival back at the marina where we managed to change into dry clothes before heading back to the auberge to dry out after a fab Gabonese safari.

 

We've had a fantastic time in Gabon and would recommend this place to everyone. Next stop Cameroon, where we'll be running our programme in Belo in the North-West region for 6 weeks. Allons y!

Hi everyone!

Just letting you all know we are safe and well and in Lambarene. Sorry things have been a bit quiet but as you can see, we have been chilling in wild Africa. We know the "Gin and Tonic" page has dropped of the blog and we desperately need to do some updating. We will try our best when in Libreville in a week or two while awaiting the Cameroon visa .

More Nerdy Birders

Bel and I are strictly "armchair" birders. We may put down our tea/beer and stand up to get a better look, but Gabon truly doesn't disappoint when it comes to birding. We've been ticking off "lifers" on a daily basis and have sighted nearly 90 species in our 3 weeks.

Our 2 weeks' R&R in Setté Cama was a delight. Thick forests all around, a lazy lagoon on one side, a wild Atlantic beach on the other. Heaven for the 3 of us. 

 

Apart from a few passing fishermen, our company was:

• Black-capped bulbuls "suh-wheat pah-tay-toe" getting us out of our tents each morning
• Busy blue-breasted bee-eaters classicly posed a few meters from us. Master hunters in and out of their sandbank nests.
• All day, a cacophony of the emphatic "chip-chrrrrrr" of the woodland kingfishers, the raucous bark of ever-elusive turacos and casqued hornbills, the monotonous "plink-plink" of tinkerbirds and the high-pitched trilling of sunbirds.
• The perfectly camouflaged square-tailed nightjar only taking flight from the sand at the last second just before we stepped on it and its tiny pink speckled eggs.
• Great flocks of African grey parrots, living as they should – not caged in solitary confinement - broadcasting their pops, hoots and whistles on the short-wave radio.
• The evening sky filled with rosy bee-eaters and numerous, unnamed swifts and swallows swooping and diving, playing tag with Peggy.
• And of course, there's nothing better than sipping a cold beer, accompanied by the unmistakeable ringing call of the African fish eagle.  .

Aah, that's life!

Brazzaville, en route to Gabon

We've been in Brazzaville for nearly a week.  Terrifying getting the car on and off the ferry, but we're all safe and sound now.  We're leaving Brazza tomorrow, bound for Dolisie and then northwards up to the Gabonese border at Ndende.  Until the next internet stop...

A Typical Day for the Gin and Tonic Team

• Wake at dawn and visit our own inoffensive long drop.
• Get the solar panel out.
• Do our stretches and sun salutations.
• Have a quick wash in a bowl.
• Breakfast of sweet black tea, fruit of the day with raw peanuts and wild honey.
• Shut Peggy inside and head over the field to the church for the morning workshop.
• Wait anything up to an hour for the women to arrive.
• Begin with soul lifting drumming, singing and dancing.
• Discuss and unpack topics, such as freedom, wisdom, fear or courage for the first part.
• Manage the sewing supplies and assist the women with their creations for the second part.
• End the session with expressions of thanks and more drumming and singing.
• Home for lunch of orange maize flour "mani-cookies," palatable with Marmite.
• Do a chore or two and prepare for the next session.
• Say goodbye to Pegs again and back over the field to repeat the morning workshop with a new group, desperately trying to keep the energy up under a tin roof in the afternoon heat.
• 4.30 – pack up, dash home and gather our stuff together.
• Head to the river for washing of clothes and sweaty, dusty bodies – good for a 3-4km round trip sniff, walk and swim for Peggy.
• Dash home for a shared beer sun downer, sitting in our hard wood, hand carved chairs by 6.00 for our regular flying performance by the resident pair of Pennant-winged Nightjars.
• Stoke up the charcoal brazier to cook supper – much fanning.
• Fall onto our bamboo beds – generally asleep by 8.30pm.
• Whew! Was tough being us!

Sensory Experiences of Kibeti

Sounds

• The dawn song of the Black Crowned Tchagra.
• The crow, bleat, grunt and low of truly free range animals.
• The constant thump, thump of women pounding manioc.
• The singing, always someone singing – women around an evening fire, the chant of children's games, a man's lone voice in the dead of night, accompanied by a slow drum.

Smells

• Regular whiffs of sour manioc, freshly dug, drying or cooking.
• Familiar bushfire – the scour and clearing before planting a field.
• River water – reedy and slightly fishy.
• Farm animal dung.

Sights

• Huge rolling green hills, fading into a haze of a permanent smokey sky.
• Two identical flat red discs hanging on opposite horizons, one a setting sun, the other a rising full moon.
• The detail and pattern of colourful wax print cloth and braided or twisted hair.
• Food tinged orange by palm oil.

Tastes

• A diet of spinach, spinach and more – same but different – spinach accompanied by rice, alternating with sweet potatoes.
• The pleasurable malty golden liquid of our closely guarded ration of COLD Primus beer (rock on solar power!).

Sensations

• Perpetual greeting and shaking of rough dry hands.
• Constantly dirty feet – black from black dust.
• Sore bums from hard seats.
• The delightful feeling of sun crisp clean clothes and a just washed body (for an initial brief ten minutes.)

The Kibeti Experience

How does one describe our experience in rural DRC? To be fêted on our arrival in Kinshasa at the Jatukik offices, to take 3 days to get to Kibeti on terrible roads and then to be welcomed by singing women glammed up in their wax prints when we finally got there was so moving.

Our 6 weeks in deeply rural DRC was just incredible.  (No internet or cell phone contact in all that time, which is why no activity on the blog.  Sorry that made some of you worry.)  Kibeti is in fact an eco-village, a group of 13 villages centred around Kikonga, which is where we stayed. Participants came from almost all of the 13 villages, some walking 2 hours from their homes to take part. The programme was a huge success and our hard work paid off. We started with 6 groups of women (3 groups of young girls from 12 to 18 years, 2 groups of school-leavers, wives/mothers-in-waiting and young mothers and 1 group of senior women). In the first week we ran 2 sessions a day for 6 days, but we found that was too much, so consolidated some of the groups and reduced our commitment to 4 groups for 2 sessions a week each. In our normal lives, this would be a pretty cruisy schedule, but in Kibeti there is no electricity, no running water and no processed anything, so our spare time was taken up with stripping spinach, shucking peanuts, cranking the fire for cooking, washing ourselves and our clothes in the river a couple of km's away and preparing our sessions with the women.

Our first 10 days in Kibeti were spent getting to know the community, our translator and the leadership group who would take charge of the logistics of getting everyone in the correct groups and assist with facilitation during the sessions. Our programme ran for 4 1/2 weeks. In the first week we considered questions about life and choices and in the following 3 1/2 weeks we discussed a seriess of topics common to most societies like wisdom, fear and courage, love, beauty, etc. Happily, the day we discussed work and service was Mandela Day, so we did our 67 minutes in our host community. The sessions were held in the Catholic Church in Kikonga and each session started and ended with drumming, singing and dancing, in true African style. It was such fun and we even knew a few tunes by the end too. On request, we taught the ladies an English tune. Would you believe the best we could come up with was “Row, row, row your boat”? But the concept of singing in rounds was new and everyone seemed to enjoy it.

Parallel to the discussions, we had a sewing project on the go. Each woman got a piece of cloth to embroider and appliqué and in the last week Jen and I borrowed a sewing machine and stitched all of them together to make 7 separate works of art which we gave to the women to keep as a reminder of time spent together. The sewing project was a huge success, thanks to awesome donations from our friends and family back home. We have plenty left for our project in Cameroon and Ghana too. (A terrifying thought for Cameroon is that there is no sewing machine there, so we may end up doing all that stitching by hand!)

Although we did work quite hard to prepare ourselves for the programme, it didn't feel like a huge sacrifice and we got so much back in return. Hearing feedback from the women in the final week was humbling. This is a community that really is very far off the beaten track and not many foreigners visit. To have 2 South African women come and live in their community was pretty special. Of course, for us to be allowed to stay and participate in Kibeti life was such an honour too. The biggest compliment we got from the leaders was that they were impressed that we knew how to live like they do. (I'm not sure that's entirely accurate as I'm sure we made a few faux pas along the way and we certainly weren't able to carry our water on our heads (in fact, we outsourced that job!)) They have requested to be put in touch with the ladies we plan to work with in Cameroon and Ghana, which we think is an excellent idea. It would be wonderful to be able to create a network of ordinary rural women dotted around Africa. The power of the internet!

What I've just described doesn't really cover how it actually felt to be in Kibeti. When traversing Africa, one is seldom able to spend a decent length of time in a community unless one has something to contribute and one certainly rarely has much extended contact with other women, it being mainly men who are in the tourist economy and who run the villages. With this in mind, we prepared our programme so that we would be able to spend time with other African women talking about our respective lives. The ladies of Kibeti expressed such pleasure at being able to share ideas and experiences with each other as well as with us. That was a real bonus, as it seems the women from all 13 villages have never got together to meet like this before. We were taken into the community seemingly unconditionally, showered with gifts of fruit and vegetables which are in such short supply in the dry season and our time there was filled with such light, love and laughter. Of course it was sometimes frustrating to be stared at, even when bathing in the river, but that was a small price to pay for the joy we experienced while living there.

It was very sad to leave, especially as we were driving out and I looked back at Claudine's house to see her flying down the path for a last hug goodbye. Amazing how you can touch a person's life just by having the same name as her beloved late mother.

In 6 weeks, my French improved more than it had in 6 months at the Alliance and I even managed to give some of my farewell speech in Kikongo! Peggy still barks in South African, but even she has chilled out a bit and no longer gets quite so frantic when people come too close to her car, her house or her people. Unless you're a Kibeti pig or goat, of course!

Oops!

Rural DRC.
We're all fine.  Presh got us safely back to Kinshasa after her lie-down and is now in for repairs.  More news in the next few days...

Thanks to Peggy's kêrels

Thanks Juan, Julius and Stephan for letting us stay for so long, for a safe place to park Precious, for hot showers and a cool bedroom, for internet access so we could keep in touch with everyone and for help finding embassies and figuring out Angolan bureaucracy.  Let's not forget the blue bottle of gin to keep us going.  And to Julius, thank you for all your help with Precious, who is now fighting fit.

But mostly, thanks from Peggy for all the love and attention, the breaking of the rules, the constant treats and soppy kisses.

See you in a year or so.

Fica bem!

On our way... really!

At long last, we have our DRC visa and our Angolan visa extension.  So we'll leave Luanda tomorrow morning, recover on the beach at Barra do Dande for a couple of nights and then cross the border at Matadi on Saturday.  Hooray!

False Alarm

Just when we thought we had the visas in the bag . . . in came Jay Zee and ruined it all. No visas yet because the DRC guy need to speak to the SA guy who is too busy at the SADC convention. We can only get them on Monday, the very day the Angolan visa will expire and we will still ahve a three day drive to the border. Panic attack! Fortunately, we know a guy who knows another guy who spoke to the guys at the Angolan department who will be expecting us on Monday and will sort out extending our visa. Whew! You see, you just need to know the right guy. So . . . looks like we are in Luanda for another week.

Luanda - Love it or leave it

As we said, this place is a mass of stark contrasts butting heads.
Filthy rich folk living next door to filthy slums - cutting edge modern architecture and tatty concrete blocks, a hangover from the Cubans - sterile new housing estates, palm trees and granite and bustling mud shanty towns filled with livestock and naked kids - swanky million dollar yachts in the new marina, a ripple away from a rusting hulk, aground on a sand bar - a clean beach with a promenade, health and body conscious joggers and a beach filled with litter, fish heads and feaces - posh new 4X4's, barely a year old, scratched and dented from the traffic jam war in gridlock with un-roadworthy taxis belching black fumes - the night skyline, neon signs and twinkling lights, a window dressing disguising the sewage in the disintegrating streets - smiley, happy people living an economic honeymoon and blank dejected faces, eyes holding the pain and suffering of the past.

A typical hairy African city. Certainly not a place for this dog and 2 chicks! Perhaps a trial run for the capitals to come? Kinshasa, here we come!

Snapshot of Luanda

So as a result of us doing visa stuff, we haven't seen terribly much of the city at leisure. However, we have seen lots from the car and have had time to look closely when stuck in traffic. There are many old colonial buildings in various states of (dis)repair. Some are lovely and some are just decayed. The fort is spectacular and is in the process of being renovated, so you can't go in. They must have started with the outside because the paintwork is pristine and it looks magnificent from the Ilha. There is LOADS of construction going on here, with some interesting buildings going up - rather like things in Joburg or even Hong Kong. It's a nice contrast with the old. The roads are in terrible shape and nobody really obeys any traffic rules unless there's a policeman directing traffic. Intersections are chaotic, most robots don't work and everyone just pushes in. Similar to many other African cities, but far worse as many more people have cars. It's a very wealthy city this - you should see the cars people drive... and the dings in them too!

And then there is the usual squalor so close to the nicer residences, which is very 3rd world. The standing water in the roads is disgusting - black and green and stinking. And everyone just walks over and around it. I suppose there's only so much energy you can spend worrying about it.

But we have had a great time here with the warmest hospitality imaginable from the Kromriver gents (Peggy's kêrels) and from Ana and her friends, never mind friendly shouts of "Welcome to Angola" in the traffic.

The DRC visa dance

Day 1:  Waited for contact to get information on what's required.

Day 2.  Learnt we needed a letter from the South African embassy, so spent half a day trying to locate their new office.  SA embassy refused to assist until we'd registered online.

Day 3:  Drove back to embassy after registering and waited 2 1/2 hours for attaché to attend to our request, only to be told that one of our reference numbers was invalid.  He added that we also needed to write an affidavit declaring our intent to visit the DRC.  Dashed home to fix registration reference number and write affidavit.  Returned to embassy and waited an hour for the attaché and then he just drove out the gate on another errand.  Waited another hour and a half for him to return to help us.  An hour later (and several games of noughts and crosses on their moving boxes and skating the office on their office chairs in petty retaliation for the wait), we left the embassy with stamped and signed affidavits, copies of passports and Angolan visas and a letter in Portuguese confirming we are who our passports say we are.

Day 4:  Handed all over to contact who then found out that we had to apply in person.  Surprise, surprise!  Spent another 2 hours missioning about town to fetch our papers and find DRC embassy.  Can you believe it was 10 minutes walk from where we were staying?  Handed all papers, except affidavit, over to DRC embassy.  Figured Portuguese letter said what it had to say.  DRC official said letter said nothing and that we need a letter saying we intend to visit the DRC.  Oh!  Contacted SA attaché who said that's what the affidavit is for.  If only he'd made that clear to start with!

Day 5:  Waited an hour for the DRC embassy to open and another hour for someone to help us, but our papers are in, our application is approved and we'll collect the visa on Friday.  Went to the beach for fresh air and fun with the frisbee.  Luanda is a hectic city with no green spaces for Peggy to run.

Ola Amigos, com estas?

So here we are in Angola and we are all safe. Talk about a range of contrasting experiences so far! We first tried to cross the border from Namibia at Ruacana where the officials wore board shorts and refused us entry, forcing us back to Oshikango, where the smart uniformed men and women bent over backwards to help us get through. Accommodation is astronomical, but beer and fuel are cheap. The Angolan people are warm and welcoming but no one speaks English. The roads are either brand new tar or rocky, rutted, corrugated and pot-holed! We've had crazy traffic and bustling city experiences and also camped on a wind swept beach where we saw no one else for three days. It's exhausting and exhilarating and we still feel amazed every day that we are actually here.              Adeus e tchau!

That was Namibia

89 birds
13 animals
2800 km
26 days

Mostly Nam was about finding our groove, which I think we did. We're getting more familiar with the enormous bird book (2100 entries for Sub-Saharan Africa – I ask you!) and where everything fits in the car.

The inverter has broken before it even got used, which is very annoying, but we'll cope. Preshy had another check-up in Windhoek to sort out the shock bushes and fix a broken wheel-hub bolt. Those are the last of the problems resulting from disastrous training with Herman Duiwelbrecht. Steer well clear of the cowboy at Angel 4x4.

Peggy is well into her groove now and has survived one cut ear and many thorns in her paws. She's very adventurous and takes herself for walks when allowed, but as soon as we start packing up to move on, she gets into her bed and stays there until we get to the next place.

And we've had at least one G&T so far, as well as many beers and at least 10 litres of “doos” wyn. All is well on the Djin and Tonic tour so far.

We're off to Angola tomorrow

Wish us luck!  We'll post when we next get internet access - possibly in Lubango.  Credit card pin still has not arrived, but we can't wait anymore.  Thanks D for doing all the checking.

Hey San-Clan

Here's a shout out to all the Burners, fresh back from Tankwa Town. You have all been on my mind for the last few days, mirages in the stoff. Hope it wasn't too cold, that you gave and received in abundence, saw awsome creativity, met some crazy people, stomped up the dust and had a few tequilas for me. And hey, happy birthday Alex!

L'eau de Djin and Tonic

We elected not to take the Doxycycline. Instead, we pop garlic capsules a few times a day and cover exposed skin in Citronella oil. Our method definitely has less of those dreaded side effects, if you don't count the crap taste in your mouth. This note serves as a warning to all those intending visiting us and perhaps an explanation as to why we haven't been chatted up yet.

The Nerdy Birders

We've racked up quite a list of birds in Nam. Lots of regulars but definitely also some unfamiliar songs at dawn. A few have been left unidentified, like some of those seed eating LBJ's in the sea of waving blond and green grasses where we camped near Sossusvlei - um - were those larks or cisticolas? We are still in charted territory, but soon we'll be crossing into new habitats when we can start twitching out a list of lifers!

Marking time until Angola

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Tomorrow is Friday - drinks night in the dog park.  Peggy and I will have a drink in our hand/paw tomorrow evening at 6pm SA time to join the gang for a sundowner, wherever we'll be - maybe at Kunene River Lodge, where we must wait until my credit card pin arrives.  We're missing you very much.  Peggy is having the time of her life and is a very adventurous pooch, often taking herself for walks!  There are lots of geese in the campsite at Ondangwa which is a great temptation for a herder.  Jen and I keep spoiling her fun!  The rope and caribiner have to work hard sometimes!

As soon as the credit card pin arrives, we can cross into Angola.  Thanks, D, for doing the PO Box run for me.

Who we've met

Check out http://www.jorust.com/.  She is an amazing girl, biking around Africa on her own for a year.  We met her in Ai-Ais and she stopped with us for coffee.  What a pity she's travelling faster than us as it would have been nice to cross paths later on, but we'll follow her on her website instead.  Good luck, Jo, and we'll be rooting for you in the 2014 Dakar as the first South African female entrant!
On the less adventurous side, but loads of fun, were the 11 men we met at the pool at Ai-Ais.  They were a scream of doctors, farmers, interior designers and dog-lovers, not a “camper” amongst them!    We joined them for dinner and wine from a bottle – welcome respite from the “doos”.  Lots of wine and song from the “male voice choir” of gorgeous men, but not an eligible one amongst them.  Thank you lads for a lekker evening!
Now we're in Windhoek and trying not to meet our neighbour in the campsite, who's been living here for 10 months with his roaring V8-sounding BMW, his caravan and his klippies and coke.  We worry that Peggy may be squashed by the BMW – she really doesn't dig that exhaust. 

Off for our first G&T on the tour.  Keep you posted...

Peggy

 She's having the time of her life, mostly.  It's tough on the days when we're driving most of the day.  Then it's no fun for a border collie in a Land Rover.  But once we've stopped, she has no end of interesting smells to follow and is quite bold in the campsites.  In Ai-Ais, we had baboons visiting sometimes and it took her a while to clock that they're dangerous.  But by the time we left, she was jumping in the car as soon as she smelt them on her turf.  Sensible girl.  At Little Sossus camp (http://www.littlesossus.com/), she made friends with Joepie, the resident Jack Russel and at Nauams camp, Nicky, the white Husky hunter, joined our camp for the night and was more of a match for her size.  It didn't take Peggy long to pick up a few hunting tricks and she's now after the mongooses (or is it mongeese?) and ground squirrels in the Windhoek campsite.  Nothing escapes the border collie stare, even the ants!  Of course, while hunting, she has to be careful not to get things in her eyes.  At Ai-Ais, one eye was swollen closed for a day having been punctured by something sharp.  She does look very funny in the picture of her and Bel as Bel strips the chicken – a fun job.



Vegetarian stripping chicken for carnivore



The Stickers

We've put the djinandtonic stickers on Preshy's doors now.  Thanks Di, for a fabulous present.  How was the Go Slowly tour?  Loads of people in carparks, tearooms and garages have asked us what Djin and Tonic is all about and hopefully many of them will join.  Brent and family from Joburg were wonderfully enthusiastic at Solitaire.  Please send us the picture you took  We hope your Irish Twin girls do the same thing in about 20 years.  Otto in Windhoek, who fixed Precious' shocks and who reckons our name should be changed to “brandy and coke”, see you on the return journey.
Of course, we think we're very clever cutting up one of the stickers so that we can have “tonic” and “djin” on the vents on our respective sides of the car. 

Catering on the Djin and Tonic Tour

The catering so far leaves a lot to be desired, so Windhoek has brought a welcome relief.  In Springbok, we stocked up on rice, chicken necks, carrots and cabbage for Peggy.  Once in Ai-Ais, we realised we were a bit short of vegetables and long on tins of baked beans.  So our diet from there until we got to Windhoek has been a number of variations on that theme.  What fun!  If there are 50 ways to leave your lover and 8 ways to leave a Kulula aeroplane, there are countless ways to eat with carrots and cabbage, as long as you have some curry powder, baked beans or tinned sweetcorn.  And yes, there is still some cabbage left, blackening in its cloth bag as it slowly oxidises.  It should make one more batch of food for Peggy, lucky girl.

"Leisure"

Thank you, Sue, for your mantra. We'll do lots of standing and staring!

What is this life
If full of care
We have no time
To stand and stare.

No time to see
When woods we pass
Where squirrels hide
Their nuts in grass.

No time to see
In broad daylight
Streams full of stars
Like skies at night.

No time to stand
Beneath the boughs
And stare as long
As sheep or cows.

A poor life this
If full of care
We have no time
To stand and stare.

2 more sleeps

2 more sleeps before we leave. We're all packed up, bar our bags with our clothes and now I've lost my credit card!

End of a chapter

One more sleep till I leave the school. What a huge bridge to cross to start out on the path of a new journey. It is exciting and yet loaded full of emotion. The school and all those in it have been my home and family for over a decade.

“How can a place, where God, showing off outrageously by putting everything together in one space, not make you understand yourself a little better? Africa is God’s showcase, his sample bag, his giant emporium, the most important part of everything created . . . I want to go, to pack my bags for a different place . . . I want to touch the beginning of creation itself”              Bryce Courtenay - Author

I will carry the spirit and love of this school and every one of its members inside me for many years to come.