We took the trip of a lifetime last year in Namibia and Botswana.
Once you are away from the few cities, the choices for overnight lodging become scarce. We picked lodges on rivers or watering holes. Each meal brought something new to identify and photograph and add to our growing list of fellow creatures.
I’ve already mentioned the giraffes that came to drink on precarious legs.
Here are some photos of the other visitors to the watering hole. I’ve just given names and photos. Their presence speaks for them without needing any more words from me.
NOTES: Uwe took all of these photos from the watering hole at Onguma Bush Camp, Namibia. ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photography and his photos of our trips can be viewed at viewpics.de.
My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded and The Trail Back Out.
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Johnny Hartman was born July 3, 1923 in Houma, Louisiana. As a jazz singer Johnny Hartman is most famous for his 1963 collaboration with saxophonist John Coltrane on the sublime album 
For twenty-five years (minus a day) I had a memory of rose-colored glass. Uwe and I got married over a quarter of a century ago. Aside from thinking Yikes, how did that happen?!, I have sighed Awwww. Not many things last this long, especially when we’re talking about human beans….
We wanted to return to the little town in Alsace where it all began. We booked the same hotel and both of us think we may even have been given the same room. We drove over a day before our anniversary and checked in as it began to rain. The sight of the rain on the windows was get outta here romantic.
I took some pictures. But later, checking to make sure my photos turned out, I was puzzled. The views of the village outside the windows had stayed pretty. But, wait a second: where were the colored panes of glass both of us are sure we remember?
The mystery was solved by a friend who reminded me that hotels – especially old ones – spend money on renovations. So, along with the elevator that was not there when we checked in 25 years ago, the windows were probably recent too. The glass in the windows is now textured, maybe ‘pebbled’ is the word I want. The view is still ever so slightly wavy and distorted…
Anthony Bourdain was born June 25, 1956 in New York City. Burdain was famous as a chef and television personality, and infamous for his previous drug use and books exposing the dirty secrets of the culinary world. He was a fearless eater, traveling the world and trying everything at least once. According to Wikipedia this list includes but is by no means limited to blood sausage, sheep testicles, ant eggs, a raw seal eyeball, a cobra (including its still-beating heart), the rectum of a warthog, and fermented shark. He committed suicide and the world lost a true original. In his honor I am reprinting an earlier post about ingredients. – Jadi
The feeling came to me as a revelation. When I climbed shakily out of what I considered a toy tin helicopter after our ride over the Okavango Delta, I was startled to realize I was feeling something unfamiliar:
It was also very, very funny, at times like being in a Monty Python sketch. Overcast, humid as hell and still hot as hell, even in the middle of the night. I dripped sweat and my glasses kept fogging up. Pitch black darkness, except for our flashlights…. which the two guides and I were shining on the frogs so that Uwe could capture them in photos. He didn’t want to use the camera flash, not wanting to startle the wild life and because light from a camera flash is too artificial. So I took his flashlight and held a torch in each hand, aiming them as directed. It was as though he were a mad director with a camera crew. It didn’t bother the critters one bit – they went on singing, and croaking, and hanging out on bole branch and vine…
The next morning we got up early to beat the worst of the sun’s heat and hike in to Deadvlei, a forest that petrified a thousand years ago.
Tourists come to climb the sand dunes.
Early morning is also a good time to spot oryx as they forage for plants and whatever dew has collected. The oryx is one of the few species that actually lives here year round. Oryx can go for long periods without water. Both males and females grow horns that they don’t shed. It’s the official national animal of Namibia.
Their marks are striking, aren’t they? In such a sere landscape, their horns and stripes both stood out and blended perfectly with the scenery. We would see them again, gathered with other animals at watering holes in national parks. But Sossusvlei was the place where we got to observe oryx the closest, and on their own. What a great introduction to the wildlife of Namibia!
