Day 2 — we woke up to the crowing of roosters outside of our bedrooms at the Zelda Game and Guestfarm.  Zelda is a 25,000 hectare farm located in Gobabis, Namibia.  They have a rescued Leopard but she is lonely - her mother was shot and she and her brother were brought to the farm.  Now that her brother has died,  she cries at night. She will be moved to a zoo soon.  We arrived there at apx. 2pm, having only ridden 287.6 Km.  When we left Windhoek, it was cold - 9 degrees centigrade.  The first day was about getting used to our bikes, each others riding and most importantly, riding on the left side of the road.  After we settled ourselves into our rooms, we were driven to a San Bushman village to learn about their culture.  They are real San bushmen, probably 3rd generation.  They work on the farm and put on this “show” for tourists to not only share with us their culture, but to keep it alive.
It was an interactive presentation, educational and fun. They have a great sense of humor.  We went on a “bush walk” and there were stations set up along the trail.  We tried to figure out what animal made a certain track it was an Eland - Alisa answered that one.  At the next stop, we were all given gum seeds and told to put them under our tongue at the same time.  They popped — think pop rockets candy — I screamed when it popped.  The bushman laughed out loud.  Next we were introduced to the Sully bush.  The leaves of this bush are boiled, and the tea is used for coughs, and stomach issues.  I’m guessing constipation because apparently you will be going to the bathroom a lot.  Next up was the burn bush  — a powder is made from the root and used for cuts —it burns but the next day the cut is better.  My favorite was the snake head bulb and the woman who told us about it.  Again, a powder is made.  It is put in the water where animals drink.  They develop an immunity to it, so when they eat the flower of the Snake Head, they will not be poisoned.  Seems vaccines have been around along time.
Then we had photo ops.  Fun — of course 9R jumped right into the fray — as soon as she sat down, a small boy jumped into her lap and held on tight.  I watched them laugh together and saw as 9R started to feel the magic that is Africa.  Honored to be able to see.
The San were the tribes people that the British forcibly put into the Gold mines.  They are a small people.  Once in, they never saw the light of day.  When they died, another group was rounded up.  ( Michener’s “ The Covenant”).  It is rumored that as late as the 1950’s, The San were hunted here.
Riding into Zelda yesterday aft., those of us who ride adv. bikes stood up on our pegs - the road was sand and gravel.  Once we were parked, one of the women asked why.  Alisa explained and this morning when we rode out, everyone at least tried to stand.  Pretty cool.
So our guide Rob speeds up, I stay with him, and the someone comes speeding by us, I laugh into my helmet — 9R — she was flying.  Rob took off after her —- they were gone.
Still smiling, I pull up behind Rob to wait for the others, he is a little upset with himself because his competitive self got the best of him — but he loved every min. 9R has to put $2 into the bag of shame for passing the leader.  As far as she is concerned, it was worth it. Fun stuff.
The bag of shame.  It is a bag where money is put when anyone of us screws up.  Forget to drop off our room key, drop our gear, pass the leader, ask asinine questions, forget to have our passport with us at a border crossing, etc. etc.  Leaders are included. It is a tribe decision. The money collected goes to a local charity for women and children.
​Today when we left Zelda, it was warmer and by the time we arrived at the Kalahari Lodge in Maud, Botswana, it was 30 degrees Celsius.
Today was about border crossings.  Leaving Namibia was fairly straight forward.  Stop, go in, fill out a form, get our passport stamped, and off we go.  Maybe half a mile later, we stop again to enter Botswana.  This also ended up being fairly straight forward as there were no tour buses there when we arrived.  I attribute this to Tommy and to asking 9R to not even think about it, as we did not want the Niner curse ( long lines).  Still, we had to wait for the bike paperwork, which took about an hour and a half.  Interesting posters in the Namibia post. ( Trans Kalahari Border Post).  One was a graphic image of a beaten woman’s face.  The text read “ STOP TORTURE”.  Another was about stopping elephant poaching.  Entering the border area for Botswana, there was a huge billboard that read ZERO Tolerance for Corruption.
Waiting for paperwork distractions —-
Barb goes to the toilet and forgets her TP, there is what she thinks is a box of wet wipes on the toilet —- condoms.  We were all hysterical, and of course 9R and I went back in to take a pic of the box.  The funniest part was Barb’s comment about not being sure what they were because she didn’t have any experience with them.  BTW — all photos that go with this post will be uploaded to FB.  
Talking to other people while waiting.  Daniela is Namibian and is on holiday with her family. She wants a motorcycle.  
We also met a mature woman with her husband.  Barb lives in Botswana, was born in Zimbabwe.  She was full of joy and jealously when she found out all these bikes were being ridden ( except 1) by women.  We took a photo of her on Colette’s bike before we knew her name.  She sent it to her son.
Riding today, there were lots of cattle, donkeys, horses, and dogs in and alongside the road.  The horses looked great, the dogs not so much.  The coolest thing for me was having an ostrich run along side of us as we traveled down the road at 120 km an hour.  Art in action.
​One advantage of group riding is watching the dance of the group.  The passing of trucks, the dodging of live animals, and of dead ones.  Today, I felt a part of something greater - felt part of the rhythm of one. Not only with the group but with this place.

Sitting in the bar with a Windhoek Draught at our home base — Klein Windhoek Guest House.  This place really does feel like home.  This morning our group had our first rider’s meeting with Rob, our group leader, signed our contracts, went over our bikes and took possession of our keys.  It was pointed out more than once that they have NO spare keys and it will be impossible to get replacement keys - TIA - This is Africa.  Most of the bikes are brand new, mine only has 500 km on it.  TIA seems to be a 2nd generation acronym descended from AWA - Africa wins again.  That being said— Rob has a very positive attitude and a suggestion, which I not only agree with, but embrace.  Leave your western mindset and embrace the 3rd world. “Yes, we have potholes but we have a road.  Once you do that, you will be able to feel the rhythm and heartbeat of Africa, and you will return.”  
Some of the information covered in our first meeting ( a general overview)  — keep coins ( shrapnel) in our pockets to tip gas station attendants, and for bathrooms.  I have found the bathrooms to be very clean and stocked with toilet paper. They have either been real toilets or the bush ( no tipping required).  I am used to tipping to use a bathroom from my experiences In Morocco, however in Morocco there isn’t always a toilet or paper - just a hole with a bucket.  
When we cross borders, we will need the three P’s — passport, pens, and patience.  Could take up to 2 or 3 hours.  
When we are going down the road, and we see pedestrians crossing the road - do not stop - they are aware of us — traffic does not stop for pedestrians here — if we start stopping, we will confuse all of Africa.
There will be some speed traps, if we decide to speed ahead and are “ knicked by the coppers” — we are on our own.
Once in Botswana, we may have to ride through some toxic sludge canal crossings, they are having trouble with hoof and mouth disease within their cattle herds and are trying to prevent it’s spread.  Side note here — I have found Namibia to be very conscious of their resources, including it’s wildlife.  
We will encounter wildlife in/on the road - he had different recommendations depending on the animals.  For Springbok, we need to either slow down or speed up — the point is, we are trying not to stress them, as most of Namibia is divided into Game farms.  There are high wire fences that run along side the roads.  If stressed, the Springbok will turn into the fences and get hurt, they spring but cannot jump.
Wart hogs will be in the middle of the road — they will scatter with their tails straight up - much like a deer flagging its tail - and then come right back to the middle of the road, right under our tires.
Cattle tend to run in the direction they are headed.
We can’t wait to get started!!!
Their are 12 of us in our group — a diverse group of women from Texas, New Hampshire, Australia, California, Florida, and that’s all I can remember right now.  We are beginning to bond as a group.  Our three day excursion to the red dunes of Sossusvlei, in the Namib Naukluft National Park, together in a van was instrumental in that process.  Namibia is constantly working on it’s roads, really not that much different from the USA, except here most of the roads are gravel.   Graders pull trailers behind them to an area, set up that trailer, that is their home for as long as they are in that area grading the roads —- continuous process.  
​On our way to Sossusvlei, we traveled B, C, and D roads, some of which had not been graded for awhile.   Loving referred to by our group as the “African massage trail”.
Our accommodations have been first rate, food amazing.  
We visited a cheetah rescue, watched the sunset while we sipped our cocktails, laughed as our group dynamics took it’s course.
We celebrated one woman’s 75th birthday.  She is part of the Dallas Duo.  They have been married for 43 years and are an older version of 9R and Barb.  It is absolutely uncanny, the similarities.  I think it freaks 9R out just a bit.
Group travel, obviously, is much different than solo travel and just as obviously, there are pros and cons.  So much has happened since 9R, Barb, and I have been in country that I am still trying to process it all.  
Going to try and post pics in galleries on this website — for right now, they will give you a better idea of our journey than I can describe in the moment.  I posted a few but it is painfully slow to upload photos —- I will embrace that limitation and post photos to FB for now.

I spent the last two hours sitting in my really cool make shift office blogging and without knowing what the hell I did, everything disappeared.  DAMN - When will I learn to hit save?
Take two .
We have settled into Namibia quite nicely.  Hard to believe this is only the third day being in country.  Need to go back to Addis Ababa to start.  We had just finished a thirteen hour flight from Dulles, we are waiting in line to board a bus to take us to our plane, for a five hour flight to Windhoek.  A tall, attractive man with his wife and three kids ( I’m guessing ages here -   15 yr. old boy, 12 yr. old girl,  10 yr. old boy) cut in front of us.  Not just a small butt - a major cut under the barrier.  I say something under my breathe to 9R and Barb but let it go.  Fast forward to Windhoek.  We are mixed in with a sea of humans waiting to just get into the queue to get our visas and enter Namibia.  I see the family behind us.  I notice the 15 yr. with an arrogant demeanor looking around.  I can see his mind spinning, as he looks for his father.  The kid is wondering when his father is going to FIX this.  Doesn’t take long.  As the man starts to lift the barrier ribbon and duck under, I turn towards him and say, “ REALLY, you’re going to do this again.”  He says, “ We have kids, you are an adult woman. We have been traveling a long time.  BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. “. I turn around in disgust. 
What I should have done is call BS.  I should have pointed to the Asian woman with 4 kids, 2 quite young, the African woman with the baby tied to her back, to the elderly couple in the corner. I should have said this is not about me or you - this is about doing what is right for everyone.  I should have asked him a question, “ What are you teaching YOUR children?”  At 62, it is time to stop being polite to assholes.  
After two and a half hours in line, we finally got our passports stamped and were allowed into the main terminal.  Into the corral of drivers holding signs.  9R circled around like she was on a flat track course until she found our names — our driver, Wendy, was all smiles when he saw all three of us together.  He had three people to collect and there we all were.  We were very happy he was still there after waiting so long.  As we are gathering our luggage, I am looking at something and trip over the bag Barb is rolling.  I fall backwards.  Luckily I land on my camera backpack ( camera survived - go LowePro).  As I lay on the floor, I expect to see Lisa standing over me with a camera.  Instead she is on the floor laughing hysterically, doubled over, trying not to wet her pants.
Klein Windhoek Guest House - very comfortable and very reasonably priced.  Staff could not be more friendly and/or helpful.  Natalie is my go to for any questions.  Thank you to Alisa of Women’s Motorcyle Tours and Rene of Renedian Adventures.
After a couple of beers and pizza, we had a great nights sleep, even though our room was a bit cold.
After coffee and spinach quiche on our upper deck, we go to pick up our rental car.  For the next two days we are on our own.  Avis is only a little over 2 miles away, so Barb and I vote to walk.  9R caves.  It is a sunny day, with a slight chill to the late morning air.
On the way, we discuss how nice it is to be at this stage of our lives.  We not only know our strengths and weaknesses, but we own them.  We also know each other’s.  That is why Barb became our navigator for this trip.  9R and I have been known to get lost quite a bit when left to our own devices.  Although, that is not always a bad thing.  I quote Wendell Berry here, “ Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction.”
Shout out to Allison Dickinson for this reminder.
​Down the roads, over the highway, down the railroad tracks, into a Harley Davidson store, and we arrive at Avis.  It is 12:15.  It is Sat.  They close at Noon.  9R didn’t even hesitate, “You two HAD to walk.”  
​As we discussed plans B, C, and D, a taxi pulled in.  We looked at each other and jumped in.  Back to home base, Klein Windhoek Guest House and my Natalie.  She made calls for us, helped me figure out how to actually use my phone, helped me with more SIM card time and handed me her phone when the AVIS contact called her back.  When I finished talking to him for the third time, she looked at me and said, “ Are you sorted now?”  Yes, but now we need a taxi right away instead of in an hour.  No problem.
By three o’clock we were on the road to Swakopmund, on the coast.
I started driving, with Barb navigating with our travel phone and my National Geo. ADVENTURE travel map of Namibia.   We finally found our way out of town and onto C28.  After about an hour, the road turned to gravel/dirt and stayed that way for the next four hours.  We literally saw three cars the entire way.  We discussed whether we were voiding our rental contract by driving on this road.  I was sure we were not, when the guy said not to drive on dirt, he meant not to go 4 wheeling, this was gravel —- TIA. — This is Africa.  This WAS a main road. TIA has become our mantra — Things always work out, just not always as expected.  Barb is our navigator but she is also our worrier and our old lady, just who she is.  She was convinced we were going to run out of gas, break down, have to sleep in the car or worse. I didn’t tell her that I left the exact address of our airb&b in the printer at home.  We had no cell service and 9R was determined to out race the setting sun, once she took over driving.  Once we entered Namib-Naukluft National Park, there was more nothingness.  There were farms, because we kept crossing cattle guards.  Two huge Kudu (?) bulls almost jumped into us.  9R did do a good job on that one. Also came upon a herd of Zebras, that was very cool.  As the sun was setting, and Barb looked at the map, she was convinced we would never survive. I must admit, I did feel like we were on LSD lost in the Twilight Zone.  Tommy was with us however, my photos were showing orbs.  I sent a message to our host via “What’s App” once we got service as we stopped at a fuel station to get beer and food before we went to our destination, exact address unknown.
Well, again TIA — it’s a Sat.  Alcohol sales stop at 1pm until Mon.  We were not happy.  Grabbed some funky looking food and got back into the car.  No fuel needed - despite Barb’s worry.
I pick up my phone, message on what’s app from our host, Tanya. Address and instructions.  Her sister lives next door at #15 — just knock on her door.  Whoo Hoo.  Ten minutes later, we were parked, and Lara was showing us around our very cool cottage on the sea.  AND........it was stocked with beer, wine, and water.  Barb is starting to believe!!!! Although she still insists on telling us to be careful when crossing the street, and makes us lock every door.  We have a new nickname for her — MB.  Mother Barb.