Well it was a refreshing change to return to Fish Hoek after Madagascar. Certainly it was quite a bit cooler with temperatures in the mid 20s as opposed to the high 30s. Dad was off in Natal, so it was his Ukrainian friend Andre, who picked me up from the airport and I just really crashed for the rest of the weekend.


The next part of the trip is this overland 4x4 route through Botswana up to Zambia and then across into Namibia . This has been planned to coincide with the best time to view the African Wildlife, especially in the National Parks of Chobe, Etosha and the Okavanga Delta, plus of course the Victoria Falls.


Due the expense of this part of the trip, I will be camping and have encouraged my father to dabble in a spot of glamping himself. Camping has changed a lot since his days and its been quite an effort to get everything ready. We have amassed a large tent (so he can stand up), a deluxe ‘stretcher’ - well thats what the locals call it, I prefer to call it a bed for Dad, a solar battery pack, a satellite phone, a fridge, plus all the first aid, car aid and clothes for this expedition. Still far less (I am told) than one night in a safari lodge.


When Dad arrived back from Natal a week later we basically swung into action. We needed to complete the task of getting the gear together, get the car sorted, get his health sorted and eventually to give everything a test run before the big off, on the 22nd May .


Doctors, dentists, car servicing, garment & bag repairs, camera accessories - we did it all. We also got a roof box for the car and yes, amazingly, it all fitted inside. I decided I would do the African thing and sleep on foam and even that fitted inside.


My father is also a big fan of a local artist, Lynne, who paints pictures of the San tribe from Eastern Namibia. We went to visit her at her galley in Noordhoek and she gave us some pointers about visiting the tribe.


With everything almost ready, we embarked on a trial run. This I felt was an essential part of the preparation, and would allow us to find out how all the equipment worked and hopefully allow me the opportunity to photograph local Kingfishers.


Bontebock National Park is just 5 Km south of Swellendam in the far Western Cape, just above the Garden Route . It is also the smallest National Park in SA, but one with a fabulous array of birdlife (according to its website). It was a 2.5 hour trip to get there, through the rolling hills of the Western Cape and we rolled into the historic town of Swellendam just in time for lunch at the Old Gaol. I had a delicious chicken pie (the best fortification before setting up camp), probably the most tasty I have ever encountered, before we got some last minute supplies and headed over the National Park.


The setting up of the camp proved remarkably straightforward apart from the oversight that Dad’s new bed allowed absolutely no room for me (in what was advertised as a three person tent). “First and only issue - I hope”  I volunteered to sleep outside on the foam. We had planned this weekend based on the weather forecast so I foresaw no problems.


Dad of course is a huge Gooner . We all have our crosses to bear! And he was determined to see the FA Cup final, so we returned to Swellendam early to the local hotel to watch the match. The manager kindly placed us in the lounge where we watched the match, engrossed, as in the bar next door the locals enjoyed the local Stormers match. Dad was in the end smiling.


The National Park was closed on our return, but we had sneakily asked the ranger to let us in at 9.00pm, so we gave him a large tip. The night was now cold, lit by an almost full moon and the campsite was almost empty. However when we arrived at our camping area, we noticed another large problem - for me.


My foam mattress was covered in a thick layer of mist dew, which had also covered the grass and Dad’s tent. Of course the later two were waterproof. “Oh well” I thought, and rolled out my sleeping bag and tried to wipe off the water from the foam cover . Dad was busy complaining about not being able to stand up in his tent. We eventually got to sleep, Dad complaining about going to the toilet, me getting wetter. Luckily my new winter sleeping bag, not only kept me warm, but seemed to be splash proof. The dew unfortunately continued to accumulate and collected in the trough just below my neck in a fold of the fabric, so when I turned over it soaked my face. The foam mattress continued to act like a sponge. Needless to say I did not get much sleep.


In the morning the mist hung low over the campsite. I awoke to see a guinea fowl staring at me, before waddling off into the bush. Dad was still snoring, but as I was so wet, I was up quickly. The only other camper, an older lady trudged quietly past me and caught me answering the call of nature. She scowled as she walked off to the ablution blocks.


After I had packed my things away and left both the mattress and sleeping bag out to dry, I enjoyed a lovely hot shower. Dad was waking up when I returned complaining of a wet tent - the outside being wet! The birds really came out now and were certainly not weary of us flying around and settling on the camp chairs. The sun soon burnt the mist off.


We ventured out on an excellent short 8 km walk along the Breede River in the National Park, which dad really enjoyed. The vegetation and the views were excellent, but the animal life was no where. Maybe we were just unlucky, but we really saw nothing. This completely changed when we left the park to get some lunch and we saw Cranes, Bontebok, Raptures and more Guinea Fowl on the exit road leading out from the park. Unfortunately every animal was a fair distance away from us.


We enjoyed another good meal in the warm sunshine at the Old Gaol and got some dinner from the supermarket plus a pair of trendy Crocs for my father a roll of Lino for me. No one open had any tarpaulin or plastic, so Lino was the only water proof option.


Back in the national park the afternoon sunlight bounced beautifully off the vegetation. We saw plenty of Bonteboks and birds, but no Kingfishers. That night we settled into camp early and I covered my now dry mattress and sleeping bag in the Lino and we lit the fire. With no dew by 9.00pm, we felt more confident and went to bed. My Lino ripped immediately and suddenly the thick mist and dew returned.


It was almost as wet as the first night, but despite the rip I remained mostly dry with the occasional water bath when I turned over. Dad on the other hand was strangely subdued. At 5.45am I went to look for him. I found him in the Ablution blocks where he gone for the toilet. After loosing his head torch and not taking his bedside portable lantern, he had walked straight into a tree stump and cut his leg open. The blood was everywhere. “Its because I take aspirin,” he claimed. It did just continue to bleed and bleed a strange sort of cranberry colour. We now had the opportunity to we fully test the first aid kit and when we had finished the ablutions block looked like a scene from ‘Psycho’.


We carefully returned to the tent avoiding the trees, packed up most things and left my gear to dry (again). I put the ripped Lino next to the ranger’s office and we headed off for an early breakfast. At the table we planned to buy an even larger tent, an even larger first aid box (originally it was large) and a few other changes. A little later than planned we left to return to Fish Hoek. On the way back to collect my wet gear we spotted the Ranger drying my ripped Lino.  


We now plan to leave for the real thing in two days.