Road Trip, southern Africa.

[OnlyMark]

I am partially retracing his footsteps.
Not footsteps though literally, if you see what I mean.

[Baz Faz]

Not footsteps though literally, if you see what I mean.

Literaturely then.

[OnlyMark]

Have you ever thought of writing books? I think you'd be good at it.

[Baz Faz]

Perhaps you could give me lessons.

[OnlyMark]

Sorry Baz, I'm a bit too busy. You'll have to find another career. Maybe something to do with travelling light.

[OnlyMark]

Day 24 –

Drove steadily uphill from zero metres above sea level to about 1500m, and it got hotter and hotter.
No wonder then that the place I stayed the night, called Roidina Safari Lodge, had a garden of mainly stuff that needs little water to keep it going. I think any water available was used for the pool –






































I was told on arrival that they had a little museum about the lodge. They did have, but it had no information at all other than a display of objects you had to guess at and a number of old photos of people with no explanation as to who they are. What I did glean though was that an aristocratic eastern Prussian family fled Germany in 1945 from the advancing Russians and made their way to Namibia.
They came from a small town called Roidine and after buying a farm named it Roidina in memory -










They did have quite a few animals knocking about though, and a small waterhole for them. I spotted oryx, waterbuck, warthog, wildebeest, zebra and a number of smaller deer/antelope/gazelle.
Billions of birds as well.
It made for pleasant relaxation during the sunset time -




Day 25 -

A quick(ish) run in the morning brought me to a lodge called Toshari, quite near Etosha national park.
After checking in I had a drive into the park for a couple of hours to watch the game at the headquarters water hole.
Nothing too stunning turned up but a few elephants. Tons of normal zebra, oryx, waterbuck and so on –




Etosha is a stunning place, and massive.
Imagine a rectangle with the long side down. Drive upwards to the centre or so, and turn right. You’ll drive about 140km to get to near the right hand edge.
Until 2011 the public wasn’t allowed to turn left (west) except with special permits. Now a camp has opened up to public use, but you still have to have a booking to turn left, i.e. to the west. Even then you’ll still have to drive 160km through the park to get there.
It’s pretty flat though and reasonable roadways.

In the evening at my lodge I had dinner. Unusually, I was solo. Not unusual for me, but for the lodge. That meant they had given me my own special table.
By the looks of it, it was one they’d dragged off a patio somewhere and stuck as best as they could in an available gap -




I had the curse of the meat eaters at dinner. Quite normal here where everything comes with meat. They had probably ten different cuts of game meat they would grill for you plus different meat stir fries they’d do.
No fish dishes and one dish of mixed vegetables, one of rice and one of boiled potatoes.
But, the saving grace was a) a big salad bar and b) malva pudding and lashings of custard.
Should that sentence be – “But, the saving graces were a) a big salad bar and b) malva pudding and lashings of custard”?


Day 26 –

My day was spent in Etosha. I hunted high and low and all over. Each HQ in the park has a sightings book and I examined these to see what the best places were likely to be to see ‘interesting’ stuff like lions, tigers, cheetahs, leopards and unicorns.
Not a sausage (meaning - thing) was seen by me.

I retired to one of the water holes and saw more in an hour than the previous six.
Most interesting to me were the herds of elephants. Still my favourite big game –








And of course, when driving along normal roads near the park, be careful of warthogs. They amuse me no end –




Morality question – on my drives to and from the park there is at the side of the road, a shepherd with his goats.
Ok, technically a goatherd then if you want to be picky.
It’s a young man, as is the norm here, of about sixteen years old. He is miles away from anywhere.
It was a hot afternoon when I first saw him and I stopped to see if he was ok for water, which he wasn’t, so I gave him some.

I also gave him..... – and this is where your opinions come in – what would you give him? You have a choice of basics you carry with you like bread, noodles, tins of things and such like.
He wasn’t particularly malnourished looking and being lacking in food isn’t a big thing in Namibia.
Or, seeing as he has no money for anything other than basics, would you give him some crisps, biscuits and sweets that you know he’d never ever buy for himself?
Huh?!

[sophie]

I would probably give him a choice of what I had seeing as his access is rather limited given that he is out in middle of nowhere. By the way, love the elephant pictures. I like all of them, but the elephants are special.

[OnlyMark]

Choice doesn't work I'm afraid. If I showed him what I have the communication element would be too difficult to express the concept of him only choosing part of it and not being able to take everything.
Elephants rule.

[wikki]

Besides water, I most likely would give him some sweeets that he wouldn't buy for himself.

[Baz Faz]

Tinned steak and kidney pudding.

[OnlyMark]

Fray Bentos, certainly.
I gave him sweets and biscuits.

[OnlyMark]

Day 27 -

I’m more or less heading home now. Still quite a way to go though but Etosha was about the last thing I wanted to stop in at.
So, a few road photos amongst a couple of other things -




There are spots here and there, outside the major German influenced places like Swakopmund, where the culture does still pop up. I have no evidence for this next assertion, but I bet the majority of tourists who come here are German/austrain/Swiss. I hear the language all the time and for every one time I hear English, there must be ten times I hear German. I also notice, but as expected, a hell of a lot of the service staff speak German, mainly better than me.
However, the advantage is good bread and cakes -








There are different classes of roads in Namibia, as in every country, but one confusing thing is that there are currently no “A” designated roads. I think they’re saving that for if ever they get a motorway.
“B” roads are all tarmac.
“C” roads can be but mainly are graded gravel.
“D” roads are graded earth/sand but can be gravel.
There are also “M” roads here and there for whatever reason.

There are also roads, for want of a better word, which are just tracks and these will often cut through a farmer’s land and are replete with gates every few kilometres or so.

They are the main categories. Namibia has more than once been voted for having the best roads in Africa.
There are more than 44,500 kilometres of roads of which just 6,664 kilometres are tarmac. The B roads join the main centres and are single carriageway and usually in good condition. Can be a bit bumpy at times and can exhibit a small washboard effect where the original gravel road was covered, but not so well.
I’m sure you are all old enough to understand what a washboard is (ok then, corrugations which build up over time making for a very bumpy ride).

They are well signposted, speed limits and other signs are in abundance and it is difficult to get lost or out of touch as to where you are.
Even the minor roads will often have count down mileage signs –






A bit difficult to make out, but this is a normal D road where a grader/scraper just cuts through to make a smooth surface.
By the way, tourists have no end of accidents on these roads, normally misjudging the speed and being caught out by a bend, then turning over into the sand/gravel after they slip off the edge.
A little known fact is that nearly every year the Namibian tourist authority make a little campaign in Italy about how to drive on these, as they are the worst offenders for having rolling over accidents –




The, not far from my destination, I come across a rather strange abode. No signs, no information and probably not quite finished. You can spot the end of the pool....? -






I’m at a backpackers tonight but will treat myself to a posher lodge tomorrow.

[kuskiwi]

I love watching elephants. The young ones can be so funny with reactions etc.
As to gift. Water certainly and perhaps something sweet as a treat.

[slowcoach]

I am not sure what is commonly brought to mind by the notion of gravel roads. One thing they ain't is gravel.

I spent an evening with the now late Dr Klaus Dierks, a man with a doctorate in road gravel, and his wife Karen, camping near Gai-As just as war was breaking out in Iraq (2003).

A fascinating man undoubtably much missed by some yet despised by others as a traitor to their political cause, the white race in Namibia in general, and perhaps those sharing his German origins in particular.

He was highly critical of the colonisation process and of the consequential Herero and Nama genocide and made a number of contributions to the BBC documentary on that topic. If the road to Sobibor started anywhere it was perhaps in the sands of Southern Namibia.

[Baz Faz]

My memory of washboard roads in South Africa is that ou had to travel more than 45 mph. This meant that effectively you were riding over the top of the ridges and not bumping.

[OnlyMark]

Day 28 –

Hakusembe River Lodge. One to remember. There is a collection of posh places to stay in Namibia called the Gondwana Collection.
Originally just good class lodges, they’ve branched out a bit but are still keeping up standards. Often I’ve noted a place of theirs wherever I am but usually I’ve been camping so have not seriously considered them. This time though I thought I’d give one of them a try.
I looked into others but usually there was for me a better alternative on this trip.

I had a steady drive south east and then north east to a town called Rundu. Not much to the town at all but I did notice very quickly that after leaving a town called Grootfontein and arriving in Rundu, things have changed.
What do I mean?

Grootfontein is a typical Namibian town with good and bad bits, but there is a white population that means there are certain things such as a good cafe or two plus, and it’s nothing to do with the white population, but there is a sense of order, streets are clean, litter is minimal and as I say, quite typical for a Namibian town.

Then drive about 250km through nothing at all apart from the odd local village here and there, not even needed to slow down on the road and the speed limit stays at 120km/h, hence hardly worth noticing, and you arrive in Rundu.

It reminded me of Zambia. Not so much in a good way. Certainly a lot more chaos and litter and dirt than a normal Namibian town.

This is a major centre on the Cubango River – a river then flows to Namibia from Angola and at a certain point, becomes the border between the two.
In years past the colonial powers did what they like to do and cut places up into convenient bits making country borders a bit arbitrary if there wasn’t a major geographical feature to help. Such is the north of Namibia where it borders Angola.

Working from the coast on the north west, the border follows the Kunene River eastwards. The river, unfortunately for the colonial powers, began to drift north at a certain point (Ruacana Falls) – the river is flowing east to west but I’m going upstream if you see what I mean – and the Kunene River didn’t play ball at all by doing this.
The powers saw that there was another convenient river, the Kubango, that further east did the opposite, it drifted down from Angola, went east for a way, then carried on near a town called Divundu south – but this then ended up being in Botswana to the south.

It all got quite complicated, but to join up where one river went north(ish) and the other came south – they drew a straight line. Dead straight, on the map, running east/west – for close on five hundred kilometers.
In fact if you look at a map of Namibia – go on, I’ll wait........................................
...........................................................................
............................................ see yet? You’ll find there are more straight lines making the borders than bendy bits.
Then you have that bit that sticks out top right, the Caprivi Strip.
I’ll come to that tomorrow.

The lodge I stayed at, Hakusembe River Lodge, was on the Cubango River and faced Angola – which seeing as the river was at most, waist deep at the moment, meant you could walk across. Which I saw many locals doing.
I had an idea that if I wanted to disappear, escape from being chased by the police because of the major fraud I’d perpetrated on the evil banks and transferred millions of Euros from them to me so I could live a life of luxury and I didn’t want to be traced, I’d slip over the border and use that as a stepping stone (excuse the pun) to a life on the run away from any being tracked and caught.

Maybe next year though, I’ve not thought it all through at the moment. But if your life savings disappear, it wasn’t me yet.
I’ll leave you with views of the lodge, the river and my accommodation, which faced the river. Somehow I’d ended up with one of the better places as there were many set back. I do have a feeling that when I book, a single person of a certain age and just for a night or two, there does seem to be times when the hotel/lodge gets a bit paranoid and think I must be a travel writer or one of these ‘secret shoppers’ or something. More on that tomorrow because something else has happened.
But, there we are -

The first photo and this one show my ‘room’.

Right at the front and just a short step from the restaurant. There were only three places at the front at the lodge and I got one of them -

More of the site -










As best as you can see, the inside of my place. I think my boarding case has exploded -






It was a fair way out of town so I was more or less committed to eating my dinner there. It turned out to be a buffet, which I knew, but others I’d had had meat, meat and more meat with a bit of other stuff. This had a lot of meat as well, but the veg and salad and extras were quite comprehensive. There was even couscous, which is relatively unheard of here.
More next time.

[OnlyMark]

Slow, you have met some interesting people.

Baz, you are right. On a normal road it'd be anything above about 50km/h starts to smooth the ride. Slow has a vast experience in Namibia and can correct me if necessary. But then the contact between the tyre and the road becomes tenuous at best, doesn't it. Meaning it is easy to lose control.
The worst I've ever encountered was in Cameroon. There is a correlation between the weight of the vehicles generally using the track, the speed they travel at and the size and distance between the ridges.
Logging trucks there were doing 80 - 100km/h regularly and in the trucks I was in, you couldn't do that. This meant you had to go really slowly for all day so as not to break your truck in half. It was horrendous.

[slowcoach]

I`ve read somewhere that Okunene and Okubango mean the right hand and left hand sides, as you describe.

[OnlyMark]

Google translate isn't much help as it says Okukene means 'indeed' in Xhosa.

[Baz Faz]

I wonder what those mysterious little boxes down the left hand side of the page are hiding.

[OnlyMark]

Boxes? Page?

[OnlyMark]

Day 29 -

The problem with Katima Mulilo is that the nearest Namibian town is about 500km away. The nearest Zambian town is a stone’s throw. This is why as soon as I arrived here it all felt Zambian.
The town is stuck on the end of a long strip of land skirting the top of Botswana and this land, the Caprivi Strip is a result of colonial times past.
The strip is about 450km long and 32km wide.

In 1890 the then German Chancellor, Leo von Caprivi negotiated a land swap with Britain so that Germany, the colonial power in Namibia at that time, had access to the Zambezi River and ultimately a route through to the African east coast and Tanzania, another German holding.
Germany gave up any interest in Zanzibar and we gave them what turned out to be a relatively useless strip of land.
And this is what I can’t work out, unless the Germans were a bit lacking in knowledge and the British not saying anything but – Victoria Falls were well known for 35 years or more at that time – and the falls are, to put it mildly, a bit of an impediment to river navigation.

Hence, using the Zambezi, or trying to use the Zambezi, turned out to be a damp squib.
The strip has had a bit of history since then, the most recent being a movement to declare it independent by the CLA (Caprivi Liberation Army) resulting in 1999 for the Namibian Army to have to roll in and violently squash/quash the movement after they’d taken over a few key points in and around Katima Mulilo.
In 1999 I was doing my overlanding job and was in this part of Africa and received instructions not to come anywhere near this part, even though it had been used to transit to different areas at times. A few months later it was all quiet again.

This is the road along the strip, and it goes on and on and on -






I filled up with fuel when I got to town and the pump attendant realised it was a Zambian car. Even though you can see Zambia across the river, he had little knowledge of the state of affairs in the country. He was asking me about how it is to live there. I related about the power cuts and low water levels etc and he asked if we have Chinese there.
I replied in the affirmative, saying there are a lot, and he gave the reason why we were in such a predicament because of them.
I asked why, thinking he was meaning the debts the country has, and he said it was because they were taking all the trees.

It is true Zambia has problems with deforestation because of logging and areas are being opened up by the government in protested areas and it does seem this was tried in the Caprivi Strip, but eventually a stop was put to it by the Namibian government.
An interesting thought.

To continue – I arrived at my hotel, the Protea, which is a large chain of good hotels, and immediately I was struck by the air of neglect.
I checked my room and found it to be of what I thought to be a poor standard. Not cleaned properly, or at least not for a week or so, stained sheets and pillow cases, lights not working, stained carpet, wire holding a window closed and poor security and so on.
I went to reception and politely asked for someone to come and look.

First was the receptionist, then was the housekeeper, then the housekeeping manager, then the maintenance manager and all the way to the top here, being the general manager.
I spent some time being polite but firm that I understood often the manager gets little money to update and maintain things, but some things can be done for virtually free, like sweeping up properly, using vinegar to remove mould between tiles etc.
It all showed a lack of care, pride and being bothered at all – just like in Zambia, and in Namibia, it’s not something you often see.

I said a big impression could be obtained by just sweeping up all the dead leaves and detritus from around the buildings. It all looks unkempt. It is free to do because you already have the brushes, you just need the workers to actually do it.
Funnily enough, as I went for breakfast this morning (the next day now) I saw two men with brushes standing outside in a corner talking together. Good, I thought, maybe they’ve been told.
I ate and returned the same way after half an hour or so. They were still there gabbing away.
You can lead a man with a brush to the dirt, but you can’t make him work.

The end result of my complaints was that I was upgraded to a better room. It wasn’t my intention to have this happen, more because I was hot, tired, irritated and disappointed and needed to say something – otherwise nothing will ever change. Maybe still it won’t, but I’ve done my bit. Plus considering the reviews of the place should have given them the clue before, that some things weren’t being done properly.
I got one of the VIP rooms, the ones Government Ministers will stay in.
It’s fine but a mish mash of stuff and somewhat impractical in its layout. But fine enough.
This was my new key -

[Baz Faz]

Oct 29, 2019 12:04:18 GMT 2 OnlyMark said:

Boxes? Page?

This morning when I looked at your post it simply had a line of little boxes down the left hand side of the page. When I opened one up it wanted me to register in order to post photos. However now, several hours later, I can see all the photos. Looks a nice place.

[OnlyMark]

I see. Something with your internet connection then. Sounds as if the page didn't load properly.

[OnlyMark]

Day 30 –

I’m having a day relaxing before the entry back to Zambia.
I’ve been trying to book a room at a place halfway home. I’ve been trying to do it in writing so I have a record of the booking – yes, I’ve had problems before in Zambia with verbal bookings and then nobody knowing about it as it wasn’t written down the in bookings book. Or whatever system they use.
The hotel is part of a small chain of three or four and has a website, which is unusual enough.

I contacted them through the enquiry form on the website twice. I contacted them through the bookings form on the website twice, I contacted them through their Facebook page twice, I sent three different emails to their email address. All over the past two weeks.
No reply at all.
I had to resort to phoning them up this morning and was surprised they even answered the phone. Nice they did but I will enquire when I am there and also when back in Lusaka as to why they ignored all communication. It is a very common thing that a company will set up a website and then completely ignore it. As for checking their Facebook page or emails, no idea as to if they don’t or if they do and them just ignore it all anyway.

A man from Sweden I know, who is an IT expert and has lived in Lusaka for a decade or two, makes his living from repairing iPhones etc, said for a few years he ran a service setting up websites for companies. He says they were often shocked when he said that they needed to keep them updated regularly with phone numbers, prices, answering enquiries etc etc. Plus, paying for the website address.

I am fully aware there might be a bit of truth in Mrs M’s reaction to a comment I made once in frustration about the lack of professionalism in many fields in this country, as with in a number I’ve been to. After a particularly troublesome time trying to make some arrangements and dealing with bureaucracy, lack of communication, I said that many seem to feel that as long as they have a full stomach, everything else will take care of itself.
She said it sounded racist. I’m on the fence as to if it just sounds realistic. But as ever, I abide by her feeling.
I am becoming, she says, more and more to be a “Stinkstiefel” – a grouch. I cannot disagree with her.

There is only one thing of excitement in Katima, a toilet in a tree. I’m not going to even bother trying to find it for you.
So there. You’ll just have to put up with my ramblings.
But, a few shots of my surroundings, my bungalow, the Zambezi with Zambia just across it -














Tomorrow I will get up early and start to make my way across the border, along a very bad stretch of road, and towards Lusaka. Or, I can cut back through Botswana, pay quite a bit of money for access just for a couple of hours, and then cross to Zambia back at the ferry I first crossed at. I’m not sure I can stand the hassle of that crossing though.

[OnlyMark]

Day 31 – (and Day 32 I suppose)

I was in a position where I could use one of two border crossings. But, one of them meant I would have to cross from Namibia into Botswana first before then entering Zambia.
The other one was a straight run between Namibia and Zambia.
The first would cost money as I would have to buy certain tolls and taxes to cross Botswana, just for a couple of hours.
The second wouldn’t cost me anything.

The first would mean passing through immigration and customs to exit Namibia, again to enter Botswana, again to leave Botswana and again to enter Zambia - and even though I don’t really have problems, there is always the potential of something unexpected cropping up.
The first would also mean I would need to cross into Zambia at the same crossing I entered Botswana at the beginning of the trip.
It is chaos and busy and confusing for most people and bureaucratic and means queuing up for a ferry. Plus loads of touts on the Zambia side causing hassle and sticking their nose in where it’s not wanted, following you to get your business and so on.

But – even though the second option looks better, especially because you drive over a bridge and there are new customs/immigration buildings which create a certain order, plus I remember from years ago, there were less touts, you then have to drive for about 100km along a very bad tarmac and potholed road.
The road, if covered properly, would take me at most an hour and twenty minutes. I drove along it a couple of years ago and it took me an extra three hours, so over four hours, nearly four and a half, to drive it.
A tentative Plan character would have meant me driving a different way back to Lusaka, but there was no place to stay at a certain point and it would have meant me driving over 600km in one day and also along about 50km of bad road.

So in essence I could have an easy crossing but a bad road, or a hassley and expensive crossing and a good road.
(Hassley? Is that a word? I vote it is now anyway).
An added complication, welcome though it is, is that Mrs M, bless ‘er little cotton socks, has double sixed me (thrown a spanner in the works, scuppered my plan, thrown a spoke in the wheel, caused a problem with my timetable) by flying back to Lusaka a day early.
We are moving to new accommodation as we’ve both been away for a while and it wasn’t economic to keep paying rent for somewhere that neither of us were there for. It is my job to get it sorted with making sure it is clean, stocking up with food, making a meal for when she gets back, unpacking stuff I’ve been keeping in the back of the car and all those other things. I now have less time to do it, a day less to be precise.

I decided to take the bad road option as I do have enough time and it would be stressful only in that it would be a simple and expected stress I can easily cope with. I’ve driven on a few bad roads before.
I had a 5.30am start, nice and cool weather, filled up with fuel again as it is far cheaper in Botswana than Zambia, arrived at the border at 6.10, just enough time for the officials to arrive and grab a coffee, realised the exit process didn’t involve the dreaded gate pass where you have to have multiple stamps on it, so got my passport stamped out, ignored Customs all together, waved at the man who opened the gate for me and exited Botswana.

Drove over the bridge, slipped into the Zambia immigration office and I was reminded what it was like in the country with officialdom – it is as though the man has never seen a passport before, doesn’t know what buttons to press on the computer and it is the first time he’s ever sat in that seat to stamp people in.
A thirty second job took over five minutes.
He just needs to scan my passport, find a space on the page where my visa is or next to it, stamp it and give it me back.
I was very close to asking him if he needed any help, but that wouldn’t have gone down well I’m sure, so I bit my tongue.

As this side there was also no gate pass needed, different to the other crossing, and it was early and the gate was open and nobody around, I again ignored Customs, no official in their booths anyway, and drove out.
Yes, back into the country without any problems at any border crossing, apart from hassle at the first one on the second day of the whole journey.
Then the bad road started.
It is as though someone laid about 2mm of tarmac (which they probably did) and expected it to last, which it doesn’t when it rains like it does here.

Big potholes form within a month, they are left to develop, you then try and drive/step in between them on whatever tarmac is left, which sometimes is possible but mostly not – then, I remembered in 1998 when I drove the same road the first time, I wondered if someone had stolen the tarmac and just left all the joined up potholes.
It’s still the same.
There was light at the end of the tunnel though – several hours later – I arrived in Livingstone, it was now 11.30am (ish) and I’d not had a break properly, apart from the peeing thing at the side of the road, and my stomach was wondering if my throat had been cut – I was hungry – I could have eaten a horse between two bread vans – I’m running out of time to get these idioms/slang in so bear with me.

I called at a cafe I know and had two tins of coke zero, a full English breakfast with........ extra onion rings and chips.
I undid a hole on my belt and waddled back out to the car. Trying not to burp too much.
I had steady drive onwards for a few hours until reaching my hotel for the night.
And, there is no power here. They have a generator but it’s only good for lights and internet. And it was 38 degrees Celsius when I arrived, now 32, and no aircon.

That’s about it for today apart from one observation about Police stop/checks –
Between crossing the border back into Zambia and arriving at my hotel, 450km, I have had to stop for them six times.
In all the mileage I’ve done in Botswana, South Africa and Namibia this time, I have to stop, or been stopped twice.

I’ve got a bit of distance left to cover, but it is normal in country travel, so of little interest really, which means I’ve a mind to leave it here. Just one more day to go, which will entail a compulsory stop at a nice cafe for lunch, one that was closed on the Monday I set off and was disappointed about. Crossed fingers it is open, but should be.
A total distance, when I get back, of 11,200km.
The same distance within a kilometer or two, I used to drive between London and Kathmandu.
My arse feels like it’s been slapped with a cricket bat.

[OnlyMark]

Back in Lusaka now.
Staying for the night in a posh lodge, but a cheap room somehow, mainly because it is not the weekend and there are no conferences going on.
Tomorrow take over our new place and sort it out.

[Baz Faz]

Somehow I have missed that you were moving house in Lusaka. I thought you were going to move country.

[OnlyMark]

I'm not sure what was mentioned and what wasn't. We'll eventually be moving country, likelihood is next year I think, but when I went to Spain in June, we ended our rental contract as I was there for a long time and Mrs M wasn't regularly in Lusaka. This new place will only be temporary anyway depending on news from her work as regards movements or not.

[slowcoach]

From Wikipedia:

The Katima Mulilo Bridge (also known as Bridge 508 in the Namibian Bridge Register) carries the TransCaprivi Highway over the Zambezi River between Katima Mulilo, Namibia and Sesheke, Zambia. It is a road bridge, completed in 2004, 900 metres long and with 19 spans.[1] It links Namibia's Trans–Caprivi Highway to the Zambian road network, forming a section of the trade route from south-central Africa to the Atlantic known as the Walvis Bay Corridor. It also carries tourist traffic.

Pedestrians and passenger vehicles crossed the river nearby by ferry. Plans for the bridge, the only one over the Zambezi for hundreds of kilometers, were first considered in Namibia in 1982, and the number 508 was allocated to the project. However, the occupying South African government was opposed to the project and considered it an act of high treason to build a bridge to independent, racially not segregated, Zambia. The initiator of the planning, Klaus Dierks, was subsequently dismissed as Chief Bridge Engineer of the territory.

Dr Dierks lived long enough to see it completed.

 

Meeting him was happenstance aided by homework. On arrival at Brandberg West (Save the Rhino) campsite, I looked at the register after signing and saw a name I recognized as the only other camper, so I wandered over said hello and thanked him for the effort he had put into his website. At the time I was looking for someone to tell me if there were any problems getting from there to Gai-As. Well he was the expert, and on his way there in the morning, so we followed him. At the remains of Gai-As, he gave us a little tour and explained stuff about the village and its inhabitants, leaving him to continue his research ,we departed for the Huab and Peter's Pools.