The Company We Keep – The Da Silva’s - Nossob – Kgalagadi

Butch and I have just returned from the bird hide, where we spent a few minutes hoping to spot and tick off some birds on our list. There wasn’t one. Not even a laughing dove. We still enjoyed watching the ground squirrels dig, dash, and chitter, though. 

This morning we woke to inclement weather, and it has since rained. Not a downpour, just a soft, soaking shower. Good for the sandy soil. Soon we’ll see green as seeds sprout. Here, everything happens quickly. Within days, shrubs will be in flower, and the veld will come alive with colour again. Not that I mind the shades of gold the fields are in now.

In the Kgalagadi, we smell the rain before it falls, and afterwards our senses are overwhelmed by the earthy fragrance of wet, honey-hued straw. A heavenly orchestra announces the coming rain with a light show and a thunderous performance, and then, as the storm rolls along the horizon, we’re rewarded with a colourful rainbow. The sun sets, and the blood-orange full moon ascends. 

Two days ago, while watching a cheetah hunt, the chap with the Zimbabwe licence plate stopped and motioned for me to roll down the window. My new bestie Butch chirped. We’d met the evening before on the Wi-Fi bench beneath the tree at reception. They had just stopped, and I asked where they were from when I saw the foreign registration plate. “Zimbabwe,” he replied. “You also from Zim?’ he enquired. “No,” I said. “But we do love Mana Pools!” He smiled knowingly, nodded, and walked off to reception to be received.

I wound down my window, and my NBFF informed me that our NEW electric steps were down and could be hazardous to passing traffic. Indeed. I turned to Butch, enquiringly. Our steps can’t go down. They malfunctioned the previous day after Butch had noticed a loose wire and two missing screws. Not only have we lost the new stairs; the single spotlight is hanging by a thread and must be disconnected and replaced! It looks very much like a milk tooth about to fall out! 

We’d caused enough trouble with the flat tyre debacle. We had to get this sorted ASAP. As luck would have it, a Park’s ranger stopped shortly after I got back into the vehicle, after inspecting and lifting the steps to prevent them from damaging another vehicle. I explained our predicament; he nodded sagely and asked why I’d alighted from our vehicle. (It is a game reserve with wild animals, after all.) Yes, I think, this is it. We’ll be booted right out of the park. He’s far too nice for that, and once he’s sure we’re all right, he leaves us in a cloud of dust.

We had to return to the camp to fix our problem. Cable ties are a camper’s best friend, and in a jiffy, we secured our steps.

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The bush telegraph is swift, and we soon learned that a pride of three lions was sleeping under a tree 19 km from camp. Not to miss anything, we joined the crowd and photographed the lions for the grandchildren. We hoped this would spice up our storytelling.

Lions always find a shady spot when the day heats up; they’re not particularly fussy and will sleep anywhere as long as they’re shaded. These three, two females and a young male, were stretched out in the road.  

By the looks of it, they’d recently hunted; the young male’s mane was matted and sticky with drying blood, and a porcupine had severely wounded one female. The prey must’ve been the small porcupine, as they looked quite thin and certainly not full-bellied after hunting a larger animal. We thought they might go hunting if an unexpected springbok waltzed past them.

The Honey Badger was parked with the sun on our backs. We would be there to watch the drama unfold. Butch could stretch out in the cab. He set up his cameras while I moved to the back and opened our large window. The cool breeze wafted through, fanning us. We spent the afternoon birdwatching and photographing them for the record.

The lions were so close that we could see their ticks, fleas, and flies. Quills, the lioness with the most piercings, occasionally rolled over to find a more comfortable position, while the male lion struggled to remove quills painfully lodged in his foot.

Like me, you might’ve been the genius who sat at the back of science class, carefully inserting a maths compass under your skin, only to realise it was quite painless. I think the lion’s hide is so thick they hardly feel the pierce, only the discomfort. (Goes to show I learned something in science class!)

The afternoon cooled to about 17h00, but the lions didn’t budge. Eventually, the matriarch got up and went into the grass, lying down with her head up and surveying the countryside. Motorists on sundowner drives started arriving. We enjoyed the human jostling for position and soon had bets on who the alpha males in the human pack were. We stayed put.

While the matriarch looked for supper, the two youngsters slept, opening an eye only occasionally to pin their mother down, then falling back asleep. They were useless at hunting for supper.

We concluded that, in the future, it would be futile to expect to see a lion saunter past us in the afternoon or at sunset unless it was an extraordinary occurrence. They sleep. By seven o’clock, when we had to leave to make it back to camp before curfew, they had moved only a few yards to find more shade.

We think there was no supper because all the Springboks were in Ireland for a rugby match. We heard on the grapevine that the Springboks were disappointed there too and returned home with their tails between their legs.

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In January this year, while Butch and I were lolling on deckchairs on the Kavango River near Rundu, we met a delightful young man called Gabriel da Silva from Riebeeck Kasteel. He had his camera with him and told us about his passion for photography and, more importantly, that he and his family of five were on an adventure of a lifetime. 

The da Silvas embarked on their African odyssey in December and would travel for thirteen months. Gabriel, the eldest child, would be in Grade 12. Their Mum, Lara, homeschooled the children, so their education was in good hands, and they wouldn’t fall behind. Dad Eugene, a quiet, soft-spoken, kind man, decided during COVID that they needed to break away.

They planned to travel from Namibia to Angola, the DRC, and beyond. Mum Lara writes a blog and regularly posts photographs and succinct descriptions on Instagram, which we’ve followed ardently. Lara’s theme matches her profile name.

In January, Butch watched with trepidation as they set off, worried about these inexperienced travellers. They’ve remained in our thoughts and conversations ever since. Their journey has been incredible, and I’ve read Lara’s blog with interest because they’re doing exactly what we’re embarking on.

Yesterday afternoon, while making myself a cuppa, I noticed a couple walk past our truck. The clearing along the fence makes a perfect footpath for walkers who’d like to walk the campgrounds’ perimeter. Thinking nothing was out of the ordinary, I resumed my ritual and, seconds later, heard a woman tentatively call, “Butch?”

Lara. They recognised our CW registration plate and called out! We reunited like old friends, and we’ve been that way ever since. The da Silvas have made it. They’ve travelled, seen, explored, and experienced what few people only dream of. The children have grown up and are lovely, and the unit of five has grown in every respect. We spent a delightful hour chatting and catching up. Later, on our walk to the Wi-Fi bench, we said hello to Gabriel, Malachi and Eve and listened to their tales of an extraordinary adventure. Their excitement is palpable.

Gabriel’s photography has improved significantly, and his enthusiasm remains strong. I think this journey has opened his eyes to creative possibilities far beyond what he expected. Malachi was introduced to a world of flavours and textures as he explored diverse cultural cuisines, cooking methods, and unusual spices and ingredients. I hope to follow in his footsteps on our journey; his excitement has certainly sparked my curiosity. I’m sure Evie’s world has changed the most. She left home a year ago as a carefree child, but she will return to her friends as a much wiser, more mature person. It will be interesting to see how the family’s worldview has changed.

Although they’re a very tight unit, I feel Lara is the driving force behind this amazing family. She teaches, guides, nurses, and nourishes them physically and mentally, and, most importantly, spiritually. Kind, loving, and devoted to each one (I could see the light in their eyes), she is the glue. You are a warrior, Lara, strong and sure-footed. It has been pure gold to follow you and be inspired by your thoughts and words. May home be your new adventure.

How extraordinary that we met them at the beginning of their journey and now again at the end of their travels. A good omen, we believe. Our notebooks are filled with the names and phone numbers of many people they met during their travels.

They even shared their steps with us. Thank you. Butch is mulling over the tips you’ve given him, and I’m sure we’ll upgrade and make changes once we reach Swakopmund. The contact details you shared will be a lifesaver. My only regret is that we didn’t take a group photograph. We’ll do so when we see you at the end of our travels!

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Yesterday’s rain has freshened the veld, and we’ve already noticed sprigs of new growth and green grass colouring the sandy riverbed. Our stay at the Exclusive campsite is ending, and tomorrow we move on. The punctured wheel is back on the truck, and I’m nursing a bruised foot. A large wheel spanner landed on it while we were pushing and shoving the wheel back into position. Fortunately, we have all the tools to treat sprains and bruises, and my foot’s as good as new.

Sometimes, especially after rain, we see fewer animals; there’s so much water that they don’t have to venture far or head to watering holes to drink, so we must be content to enjoy the landscape and keep our eyes skyward for birds. Fortunately, most of our drives are at dawn or sunset, when we’re rewarded with jewel-like skies. We enjoy the rainbow of colours so much that we forget why we’re there.

Butch’s scales gave me a shock one morning! My weight had halved! That just proved a springy floor can be deceiving! My weight loss let me butter an extra slice of toast to celebrate, and I tucked into my Lay’s crisps with renewed vigour! 

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We enjoyed time spent with the birds and the bees, the flowers, and the trees. All creatures great and small, we were ecstatic when we spotted the Honey Badger digging a tunnel by the side of the road; he was so fast we could only get a few shots. At the picnic spots, we’d watch life unfold around a tree where striped mice, geckos, spiders, and weavers all live together in harmony, each one doing his own thing. The perfect spot for children to learn about bush life. A word of advice: never stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. I learned to watch the golden-yellow cobra slither into a hole in a tree to feed. Dinner could be a tree mouse.

Watering holes, at any time of day, and birds go together like a hand in a glove, especially once we know their habits and drinking cycles. The bonus is seeing who else ventures down. 

And so, our journey continues. Next, we'll spend a few days at Mata Mata, where the landscape changes completely. The animals are unique, too. We look forward to seeing a few giraffes.