On the subject of travel

The challenge of planning a trip to Africa is in deciding what to leave out - not what to include. 

We are18 months away from fulfilling our desires to return to Africa and our initial hope was that we could include four nights in one of those very special camps in the Okavango Delta of Botswana. The good folks at Travel Beyond (http://travelbeyond.com) gave us an estimate which turned out to be $6,400 per person for four nights and that includes flights in and out (of Maun or Kasane), all meals, game drives etc.  That is way out of our budget. We have done 15- 17 day tours of other areas of southern Africa for that amount of money.  The worst thing is that, because we would have a child or children with us, under the age of 12, we would have to pay an extra $500 per day to reserve our own 4WD vehicle for game drives.

So - on to Plan B.  This morning we talked, via Skype) with Chris Worden of African Bush Camps.  (http://www.bushcamps.com/)  Chris lives and works from the town of Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe.  ABC's core business is safari marketing, consulting and sales. Quite simply they focus on planning and arranging tailor-made safaris in Africa for independent travellers and small groups. 

Quite frankly, when I saw that ABC has permanent staff in Victoria Falls, Kariba and other locations in nearby Zambia, as well as offices in the UK, I was anxious to talk with them.  My Sunday email was answered promptly by Monday morning. When I described our objectives to Chris, he immediately gave us some great ideas on how to plan a tour of the Victoria Falls area, staying at kid-friendly bush camps.  I have been to Victoria Falls many, many, times, so to talk to someone who could update me on current conditions and facilities was a relief.

Taking refreshments at Makalolo Plains Camp

 

 We asked about Elephant Camp and Imbabala Safari Camp on the Zambezi River. Chris confirmed that these camps had upgraded since we last visited and were still reasonably priced, high quality, camps.  He then suggested we consider Makalolo Plains or Little Makalolo Camps in the Hwange Game Reserve.  So we threw together a tentative passenger list and slightly more positive dates and emailed him.  By tomorrow we will have a budget cost for the first nine days of our Zimbabwe Tour. 

 

On the subject of travel - generally

A few final recollections from my pre-Africa youth concerns the whole subject of travel.  Few southerners in the first half of the 20^th century and before (1865 to 1950s) ventured far from home.  Heaven forbid it would be necessary to go north of the Mason-Dixon Line.  The movement of new industry into the southern states slowly began to change the “bunker” mentality that had lingered since the defeat and surrender of General Robert E. Lee at Appomattox. 

When my dad was 22 years old and had been a tire builder for four years he was sent to Sweden as part of a team of trainers to help start up a new Goodyear tire plant near Stockholm. So in 1938 he crossed the Atlantic and worked for a year in an instructor’s role.  He made friends with yankees and foreigners and saw quite a bit of Europe, getting around by train.  Before going back to the USA, he was in Berlin in 1939 when Americans in Europe were advised to leave in expectation of the conflict that was just months away. 

My dad (left) with friends in Copenhagen, 1939

  

He boarded the first available train and headed home, getting a berth on a steamer out of France.  So he had a taste of the outside world, unlike most of his contemporaries.  In the years after I was born in 1944 my dad would have two weeks of vacation every year.  My parents could only afford to go on vacation every other year, and we would load the car to drive to south Alabama or on to St. Petersburg, Florida. It was a two-day journey each way. Of course the Interstate Highway system had not been thought of at the time, though it was possible that President Eisenhower had plans for such a system all along.

I vividly remember the narrow paved roads from Gadsden into south Alabama along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. Early on when I was about two or three, we stayed in a very “modest” (could also be described as run-down) cabin along a waterway in Gulf Shores. Of course there was an outhouse in the back. Meals were cooked on a two-burner, Coleman, portable gas stove. My dad had rented a small boat and outboard motor and would take his boys out fishing.  At a very early age I became familiar with baiting hooks and taking fish off the line.  Looking over the sand dunes we could see the tops of ships passing by along the Inland Waterway.

The roads through the rolling wooded hills were dotted with old farmhouses, and large barns with advertising on the roofs. Pecan orchards were common along the way and, of course the ubiquitous Burma Shave signs offered some humor.  We drove with the windows wide open because there was no air-conditioning. Tourist stops along the way would advertise two-headed snakes and five-legged alligators. Dad would let us tell him where to turn at road junctions, so we would learn to read the highway maps and watch for highway signs. If there was any uncertainty he would wait until we studied the map and then follow our recommendation on which way to go. My interest in and love of maps would continue throughout my life. 

For a couple of those vacations we stayed at the same motel on the shore of the Gulf in St. Petersburg. On our final trip, in 1954, we stayed in a two story home for several days.  It was a modern home with wood-paneling throughout and we could see the ocean from our upstairs bedroom.  The main feature was the hidden storage spaces behind the wall panels upstairs. Our young imaginations ran wild as we found new hiding places and explored their secrets.  Silver Springs, Florida, was a memorable stop over one year. We visited an alligator farm and saw Manatees in the clear springs for the first time.  It was the first time I was exposed to the animal kingdom in earnest, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Nine months after this vacation, in March 1955, we welcomed the arrival of my young brother David who was to accompany us on our journey to the Dark Continent at the tender age of one year.