BY this time Byron and his family had left Orapa and, though several people suggested joint trips, we continued to travel solo for preference.
Then along came John and Dot and changed our minds for us. Not only were they undeniably good company, but five-year-old Daniel was a special friend of Karen’s and her enjoyment of our holidays had sometimes been marred by lack of young company.
As for baby Christopher, he had spent a large proportion of his seven months lying under thorn trees, with sand in his eyes and flies up his nose and he’d never been known to complain.
So plans were now laid for a two-family, two-vehicle trip. This time we would start in Chobe and take our usual route in reverse order. We knew how to find Bruce’s route to Savuti from the northern end and, with two vehicles, we could travel off the beaten track without the nagging fear of not being able to get help in case of a breakdown.
All went well until a week before we were due to leave. Then Christopher started teething. After a couple of nights of walking the floor with him, Dot decided that she and Christopher would have to stay at home. Daniel didn’t want to go without her, so that just left John.
We suggested all piling into Samantha, but John was as keen as any of us to break new ground and he was determined to bring his Land Cruiser, affectionately known as ‘Bush Pig’, so that we could do the off–road section in the safety of a two-vehicle convoy.
Just for once, we were all packed and ready the night before our scheduled departure. The deep freeze had been running for two days, so even the perishable goods had been put aboard. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to delay our early start in the morning. John popped round to our house for last-minute discussions and, on the way home, the Bush Pig’s clutch packed up.
We spent Saturday morning belabouring the Pig’s clutch with every available tool, only to find that we needed new rubbers for the slave cylinder. After an hour of frantic phoning and visiting other Cruiser owners, we established that no spares were to be found in Orapa. We abandoned the task at two o’clock in the afternoon and packed John’s gear into Samantha.
We made quite a good job of that, except that we finished up with two axes and two pumps, but clean forgot about the eggs.
Eggs are not good travelling companions at the best of times and on bush tracks they are guaranteed to cause headaches. We had tried just about every possible position in the Land Rover, but I wasn’t quite happy about any of them. They would probably have survived, wrapped in a sleeping bag, but I didn’t fancy the idea of spending the night with an uncooked omelette if they didn’t. Besides, most of the bedding was otherwise occupied, protecting a fluorescent light and two gas lamps. Eventually they were wrapped in a towel and put under the driver’s seat in the Pig.
Which was where Dot found them two weeks later.
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