Scratching days off of my calendar from February, I’d finally put the last scrawl through August. It was hike time.
Bundled tight as a pack mule, and trained hard as a mountain goat, I was ever ready to beat a path through 5 days of the Fish River Canyon.
Buckled tight in the S3, the red brake callipers released, the needle flicking close to illegal, we crossed country, riding west into a setting sun.
The journey to Namibia was broke up in two with day one bookended in gravely icey Upington.
Gins and tonics, billies, beer and bbq. My neck, shoulder and back muscles released their hold. We began to ease.
Sun down. Sun Up. I arose like a lion. Goooood mooorning, Upppington.
Saddled in, we returned to tar, leaving behind some civility the ‘scape turned lunar.
The swath cut by the liquorice rope long drag heading towards the Namibian border became rockier, craggier and drier as we drove towards wilder west.
The flat-lined landscape broken by the alien like solar tower a beacon in the landscape.
2 hours and we were stopped parked at the South African border. Jumping out of the car we entered the buck teeth ugly orange face brick border buildings. The heavily treaded darker than death parquet floors lead me to the immigration officer.
Bundled tight as a pack mule, and trained hard as a mountain goat, I was ever ready to beat a path through 5 days of the Fish River Canyon.
Buckled tight in the S3, the red brake callipers released, the needle flicking close to illegal, we crossed country, riding west into a setting sun.
The journey to Namibia was broke up in two with day one bookended in gravely icey Upington.
Gins and tonics, billies, beer and bbq. My neck, shoulder and back muscles released their hold. We began to ease.
Sun down. Sun Up. I arose like a lion. Goooood mooorning, Upppington.
Saddled in, we returned to tar, leaving behind some civility the ‘scape turned lunar.
The swath cut by the liquorice rope long drag heading towards the Namibian border became rockier, craggier and drier as we drove towards wilder west.
The flat-lined landscape broken by the alien like solar tower a beacon in the landscape.
2 hours and we were stopped parked at the South African border. Jumping out of the car we entered the buck teeth ugly orange face brick border buildings. The heavily treaded darker than death parquet floors lead me to the immigration officer.
Handing over my heavily thumbed passport,the immigration officer handled it deftly manipulating the pages as a card dealer in a kasbah avoiding the paper cut.
'You have a problem', he served.
'You have a problem', he served.
Pivoting my neck to the left and to the right, then jabbing my index finger into my sternum, I returned serve straight at him, 'Who, me’?
Behind the riot-protection glass barrier, the officer smashed my shot with a flat forehand cross court, 'your passport expires tomorrow'.
Whipping it back with top spin, my eyes bulging in disbelief, and my mouth shifted far left, grinning, 'no, no, that can't be'.
Running to net for the volley placing the passport spatchcock-open against the glass he responded, 'but it is', pointing with his inked index digit at the next day’s expiry date, 'see'.
Running, lunging to retrieve the volley, I slid across the clay, coming up just short as the ball double bounced. First Set to the South African Immigration Officer.
Head in hands in disbelief , I ‘believed’ it’d all blow over.
'Please, please just stamp it', I pleaded.
Reluctantly, the South African officer stamped it. *bam bam*, 'I must warn you-the Namibians will not allow you through'.
Behind the riot-protection glass barrier, the officer smashed my shot with a flat forehand cross court, 'your passport expires tomorrow'.
Whipping it back with top spin, my eyes bulging in disbelief, and my mouth shifted far left, grinning, 'no, no, that can't be'.
Running to net for the volley placing the passport spatchcock-open against the glass he responded, 'but it is', pointing with his inked index digit at the next day’s expiry date, 'see'.
Running, lunging to retrieve the volley, I slid across the clay, coming up just short as the ball double bounced. First Set to the South African Immigration Officer.
Head in hands in disbelief , I ‘believed’ it’d all blow over.
'Please, please just stamp it', I pleaded.
Reluctantly, the South African officer stamped it. *bam bam*, 'I must warn you-the Namibians will not allow you through'.
5km later, shaking as an aging Muhammed Ali, I stood before a stern Namibian immigration officer.
Noticing I was an architect, he flashed me a tooth-filled smile. His bored demeanour turned to excitement. ‘so you can draw’?
‘i Sure can’. The guy while scanning the passport barcode was levitating with a marijuana filled joy. and then......
Then as dark clouds move vociferously to blank out a bright sun, the officer’s mood plummeted to deep anger on seeing the South Africans had led me this far.
Needing to document me, his eyes turned to rocket propelled grenades piercing skewering me stuck to the back wall, a camera firing me, my signature paving my way back to South Africa. With that all in place, I raised the question, ‘howsaaat?’ Responding, he raised his right arm parallel to the ground, looked left, then right, then finally dead at me, extending his index finger in my direction, he shouted, ‘youuuure out!!!!!'.
Noticing I was an architect, he flashed me a tooth-filled smile. His bored demeanour turned to excitement. ‘so you can draw’?
‘i Sure can’. The guy while scanning the passport barcode was levitating with a marijuana filled joy. and then......
Then as dark clouds move vociferously to blank out a bright sun, the officer’s mood plummeted to deep anger on seeing the South Africans had led me this far.
Needing to document me, his eyes turned to rocket propelled grenades piercing skewering me stuck to the back wall, a camera firing me, my signature paving my way back to South Africa. With that all in place, I raised the question, ‘howsaaat?’ Responding, he raised his right arm parallel to the ground, looked left, then right, then finally dead at me, extending his index finger in my direction, he shouted, ‘youuuure out!!!!!'.
Game Set and Match
Deflated as a limp lung, I stepped out of the immigration building.
Yossi flagged down a pecan boer. Throwing my bag in the back, I jumped into his bakkie, his toebroodjies separating us on the long front seat. For two hours I lamented.
Yossi flagged down a pecan boer. Throwing my bag in the back, I jumped into his bakkie, his toebroodjies separating us on the long front seat. For two hours I lamented.
I hated life.
I booked a R3100 flight from upington to Johannesburg
Paid another R1000 for a 2 night stay at the BnB
and my rowing machine fund flew straight out the window.
I booked a R3100 flight from upington to Johannesburg
Paid another R1000 for a 2 night stay at the BnB
and my rowing machine fund flew straight out the window.
The next day while all the okes were in the Canyon viewing the sequened Milkyway, or sipping handfuls of crystal clear stream water, and breathing fresh Namibain air, The Russian Bear Hunter was in aisle 6 of Pick ‘n Pay feeling the firmness of avocadoes.
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2 comments:
Loved this story! I have been through that same immigration building a couple of times, been in the Fish River Canyon. Sorry you couldn't do your hike. I hope you get back there soon!
Thanks dude/dudette
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