South Africa on a Budget - africa_budget2

In hindsight, I may have made a poor decision by setting such a ridiculous pace for myself. After my wildlife safaris in Kruger National Park, I decided to cram three days of riding into two, to free up a day next week. Apparently there is a place on Namibia’s Okavango Delta headwaters where I can rent a tree house over a river where wild crocodiles and hippos swim freely beneath. The main allure is that I was told there’s a giant floating shark water cage, allowing guests to swim without being attacked. At this point, I am crossing my fingers that it is worth the risk, fearing my demise from the herds of goats, cows, and Botswana’s infamous donkeys, I am only several hours from what I had originally hoped to be the apex of my trip: Victoria Falls.

This is the life… I am sitting on the deck of the Royal Livingstone Hotel in Zambia, having a beer for breakfast, as two giraffes and several zebra are nibbling on the manicured lawn along the pool, less than 20 feet away at this five-star resort. Of course, I am not staying here, as I have secured a prime spot in a bottom bunk of a hostel across the border in Zimbabwe. Not surprisingly, it wafts of alcohol and sweat, courtesy of my eleven roommates who drank until the wee hours after their overland truck dumped them on the last stop of their tour.

I decided not to visit Victoria Falls yesterday, instead, saved my first glimpse of the falls from the Zambezi River itself. The Livingstone Hotel is the departure point to the famous Devil’s Pool. Up next: a short boat ride, a hike, a swim, and a brave leap to the edge of the falls. There is a point before the summer rains set in, when the water levels are low enough to swim in the aptly named pool on the cliff’s edge, where water spills over and around you before it descends the 100 meter falls. I missed the grandeur of the mighty river at its highest point, but felt that the expansive view over the edge was a nice tradeoff… even if I did have to ask a local guide to hold my feet tightly to ensure that the current didn’t drag me away. The view and the thunderous sounds of the falls, as seen from Zimbabwe, give precedence to the fact it was chosen as one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.

Each day is better than the last. The previous four weeks hardly seem believable. I stayed in my en suite tree house last week, showering with river water in open view along the banks, as Cape buffalo grazed across from me in the Bwabwata National Park. From the Caprivi Strip, I re-entered Botswana and spent a few days exploring the Okavango Delta. By air, the wildlife appears limitless as predators and prey still live without the influence of man in the vast region of islands within the flood plains. When I reached Windhoek, Namibia, I phoned the rental company in Cape Town and told them I am not coming back when scheduled, but will pay for the additional rental when I decide to return. Originally, I was supposed to return the bike in a few days, taking a straight shot south from here, but I had built an extra week into my schedule in case of any mechanical problems, or other possible emergencies, so I could still make my departure flight home. But, I was so close to the Skeleton Coast, heard about sunrises of Sossusvlei and the sand dunes turning into a deep red before lightening colors as the unforgiving sun beats down on the lunar landscape. How could I possibly miss that?

The dust was thick, there was no vegetation to hold it down and now I was grateful I hauled my goggles for the last month in the panniers, attempting to overtake slower vehicles while being cautious of washboards and wash-outs in limited visibility. I enjoyed my few days in the German-inspired town of Swakopmund; its cool ocean breezes, proper west coast sunsets, and their magnificent dunes. The Skeleton Coast is a paraglider’s dream, steady offshore winds allowed me to soar the coast, and the wing served as a tow back to the top. I snuck in an entire day on a rental harness and parachute… another item off the bucket list.

Yesterday I hitchhiked into Sossusvlei, thumbing a ride in a “Scooby Doo” Volkswagen bus painted with African bushman-like art. Bikes were not allowed to the center of the park, sedans were stopped after sixty km, and four-wheel drives or feet were recommended if you wanted to reach the “vlei.” I was skeptical about this, but after I lowered the VW’s tire pressure, the longhaired and bearded owner floored it, and to the amazement of plenty of overlander 4x4s stuck in the soft sand en route to the dead lakes, we cruised the final six km without a problem. The VW owner, who happened to be a historian, was not only kind enough to give me a ride, but also cooked breakfast after I came back from a sunrise hike to the dune he considered a jewel of the park. You couldn’t have paid for a better expedition.

Bidding my ride farewell at the dunes, I began walking the sandy trail hoping to thumb a lift back to the entrance. I still had a full day’s ride ahead of me to Fish River Canyon, Africa’s version of the Grand Canyon, and then on to Ai-Ais hot spring for a rest day.

As I pulled into a posh town in the heart of South Africa’s wine country, with gorgeous women shopping the boutique-lined streets, I felt depressed. There was a longing for the solitude of the deserts and gravel roads that had become such a big part of my ride over the last few weeks. After leaving Namibia, I spent a few days in the Cederberg mountain range, viewing bushman art, hiking windswept rock formations, and talking with other motorcyclists at an oasis that is a gift to adventure riders. There I was adopted by the “Wild Dogs,” South African’s version of ADVRider. They led me out of the mountains showing me the jewels of their backyard that linked the majestic passes together before we parted near Cape Town. I have decided to spend the few last days decompressing in Stellanbosch, playing tourist while enjoying the culinary capitol and the expanse of vineyards it offers. Knowing the journey was about to end, I planned to tour the Cape Peninsular and Table Mountain before returning my beloved F800GS and settling the debt.

Adventure is always possible. Expeditions do not have to be done on a grand scale, with a personal bike, a seemingly limitless budget and planned down to the tiniest detail. My life was changed in several short weeks—11,000 kilometers, 7 countries, with no direction, a rental bike, and a middle-class budget. This is a prime example that exploring the world can be done on your own terms. With lots of options, making the decision to just get out there and go becomes easier. A tour is an excellent option, a ride with friends would be a dream… but it’s better to do it without a riding partner than not at all.

Tyler Hare can now be found obsessing over ride reports and maps while building an adventure bike for a return trip to overland Africa. He is now a booking agent and guide for a popular South African motorcycle tour company and can be contacted through his website at: AfricaMotorcycleTours.com.