It’s T minus 9 days to departure. Well, sort of. Jenny actually just departed a couple hours ago. She is off to Cape Town to visit friends and to start working on some logistics on the ground when she arrives. I will be heading off for my last work trip, for a week of the 9 days, and doing some last minute frantic preparation until I depart.
On the almost eve of our departure I am now reflecting a bit. I should be packing. Checking the house. Writing down emergency contact info and copying consulate phone numbers into the sat phone. But I’m not. I was going to write you about all the fascinating (to me) details of our preparation. Our Carnet de Passage (or lack thereof..more on that later), the tool kit we put together, the maps and destinations and permits and spare parts. But instead I am contemplating how we got here, why we’re going and what matters right now.
The build up to this trip has been a long and interesting road. From the inception I wasn’t at all confident we would be able to make this happen. I have had numerous other schemes that have not come to fruition. Getting the time off work, the expense, the logistics. Was it safe? Mostly I thought I wouldn’t be able to get the time off work, and thus I didn’t have to stress too much about the rest of it, as it would be mute. To my great surprise, when my boss said yes (Thanks Mike!) to my three month leave request I knew that there was no backing out. We felt that to have such an opportunity could not be wasted. Many peoples’ circumstances wouldn’t allow it, and many others simply wouldn’t be interested. We had to plunge forward. Though we are traveling overland and not by sea, I am reminded of a favorite passage of mine:
“To be truly challenging, a voyage, like a life, must rest on a firm foundation of financial unrest. Otherwise, you are doomed to a routine traverse, the kind known to yachtsmen who play with their boats at sea… “cruising” it is called. Voyaging belongs to seamen, and to the wanderers of the world who cannot, or will not, fit in. If you are contemplating a voyage and you have the means, abandon the venture until your fortunes change. Only then will you know what the sea is all about. “I’ve always wanted to sail to the south seas, but I can’t afford it.” What these men can’t afford is not to go. They are enmeshed in the cancerous discipline of “security.” And in the worship of security we fling our lives beneath the wheels of routine – and before we know it our lives are gone.What does a man need – really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter, six feet to lie down in – and some form of working activity that will yield a sense of accomplishment. That’s all – in the material sense, and we know it. But we are brainwashed by our economic system until we end up in a tomb beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, preposterous gadgetry, playthings that divert our attention for the sheer idiocy of the charade.The years thunder by, The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it, the tomb is sealed.Where, then, lies the answer? In choice. Which shall it be: bankruptcy of purse or bankruptcy of life?” – Sterling Hayden, Wanderer, 1963
In preparation we have been obsessing over details, logistics, planning, preparation. What is the drive time to Lusaka? Which camera kit should I bring? Are we tackling too much distance (yes)? How will I poop in the bush, and will I be mauled by a lion while doing so? This of course is important, as when pitting yourself against the wild no one plans on doing it with their pants down.
But as Hayden reminds me, what do we really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter and six feet to lie down in. We will have it. Our activity will be our own small expedition north and back again. This will engage our time and our minds and we will witness the miles of Africa pass by.
It has been interesting to see people’s reaction to hearing about our plans. It surprised me that one of the most common questions is, “Will you bring a gun?” No, we will not. Not only are you perfectly safe from me even if I was armed, as I have zero fire arms experience, but also in Africa guns are not as easy to acquire as they are in the US. If you are stopped by the police or military, which is likely, remember that permits, if you could get one, would not be valid across borders. If you are found in position of a gun, lets just say it is not likely to de-escalate a situation. I suppose though this question has merit in the sense that it’s borne from a concern about our safety, which I appreciate.
“You’re going on safari.” Well, yes. Sort of. We will enter game reserves and game parks, but I will say that I think Africa has much more to offer in addition to wilderness, and we are really looking forward to that as well.
I had been to Africa four times and to eight countries prior to going on safari. I feel maybe like a less grumpy Paul Theroux in Dark Star Safari, where as I recall Theroux, having not been on safari, waxes on about the foolishness of safari, mostly people exercising their white privilege while watching animals and sipping gin and tonics (this much is true) and not witnessing the real Africa. But he is convinced he must go to see for himself, and then he is transformed by the magic of the wilderness and the animals of Africa. This is also true.
For those that might think that lions and elephant are all Africa has to offer and the rest is too messy, I beg to differ. For a traveler and a guest there is much that the continent and the people can teach us about the environment, resourcefulness, resilience, determination and for me, most importantly, ourselves. Before going on safari I felt I had seen it all, that the big 5 was for tourists and that I was a “traveler”. After all, I had seen the “real Africa”. I had hiked the Atlas mountains and watched sailmakers and dhow builders in Zanzibar. I’d lived in a small village in the Rift Valley, traversed highways with pot holes that would swallow a car and seen a line of trucks waiting at a border 7 kilometers long. I had seen the tablecloth form on Table Mountain and watched the cape doctor scour Table Bay. All this and swimming the deep blue waters of the Seychelles and losing count of the sailing canoes in Madagascar at dawn will convince anyone that a mere animal is nothing to get too excited about.
In 2013, in the early hours of my very first day on safari, our guide urged us to finish breakfast early, “There are lions” he said, and he hustled us into the open topped safari vehicle. Even getting into the car I could hear them. And not 5 minutes from the lodge were two lions, right there, with nothing between us and them. And in that moment I understood. There is something indescribably naked and simple and addictive about sharing the same place, the same time, the same sounds and heat and sweat with wild animals. I wanted more.
We hope to see more and take a deeper look at some new places. I also look forward to talking to the locals of where we go and to meeting other travelers. So here we are, about to fly half way around the world to drive ourselves across a sample of the continent.
