Blog

Durban, SA: Will the car arrive? February 6, 2016Walking over a blanket of clouds, I am carried...

The Howling Moon Factory It’s the Tuesday after we drove our car out of the container and we’re on...

Among friends in Harding The rain falls down hard on the tin roof of the cottage. We're on the...

Let's start on the WILD COAST! Our footprints show on the dew of the wet grass. We take over the...

The Kingfish When we wake up we are immediately followed by 4 kids from the surrounding villages....

"Sir, that car is from Australia!" The car shakes when I start it up. We just packed up our tent...

The Imposing Policeman It's late in the morning when we leave our camping spot and leave Port St....

Roadblocks and stones that hit the mark  We are camping outside the fence that marks the boundary...

Mdumbi: tourists and the local Xhosa community intertwined A wall full of surfboards stares at us,...

The perfect (tight) spot The Wild Labunzi is build on something that resembles the coastline of...

Dinosaurs in Dwesa During a trip to the small community shop Helga, Adam and Megan run into a...

From Chintsa to the Wild Woody Cape March 2-5, 2016Packing up is quick, Adam is a valuable new...

Meeting Wildlife With my teeth I tear open a bag of muesli. It's early, very early. The bag gives...

Winterclothes and Treehouses March 7-11, 2016Hundreds of drops at the same time beat against our...

Baviaanskloof Our aluminium ladder leads me down the rooftop tent. The ground is moist and two...

From the Wilderness into the Caves Wilderness, a small village on the coast. It almost feels like...

The Swartberg pass The wind screams outside our tent and we are on a dreary campsite. The wind...

The road to Hell and back Die Hell (wikipedia)Die Hel is a narrow isolated valley about 20 miles...

Seweweekpoort & Montagu March 18, 2016 In the morning we find our way back from Hell, drive...

We don’t have to set the alarm, the sun burns us out of the tent anyway. The ladder of the tent sits in the loose sand and the fire still smokes a little bit. Slightly neurotic I scan the ground around our car for fresh tracks. I don’t see any. Satisfied I pull the salami out of the fridge for breakfast.We put the coordinates for a waterhole in our navigation. Waterholes are often meeting places for different types of animals. A dry riverbed leads us to it. This riverbed is particularly sandy

The sun comes up slowly and the first rays of light manage to get through the thick layer of dust. We’ve been awake for a while and are sitting on narrow wooden benches with our freshly brewed coffee and the map. The sun heats up our surroundings quickly and the heat plus the caffeine helps us to get going.We pack up the tent, put the cutlery in its place and wash our plates. The sun shines down on our windscreen and we can see our reflections in the dusty window.I’ve been on the road for almost

The early morning glow slowly colours in our surroundings. It is early and we are on our way to the Namibian border. We park in front of the border office, get out of the car and smile at each other when we see the numbered offices: 1 til 6. All different cubicles for different authorities. We prepare for the worse. But surprisingly we find ourself walking from office to office in no time. Before we know it our passports are stamped, the car is checked and we’re driving into Namibia.Our first

We go to sleep early and wake up to realise that AfrikaBurn is really starting today! During the whole day we see new people arrive and every spot where a tent could possibly fit is taken. We get some good coffee at the Alienz, a theme-camp that makes you a cappuccino or espresso in exchange for a compliment. Right next to the coffee tent is the Pancake Posse tent where we patiently wait for our pancakes while the volunteers are running around trying to serve everyone. Below we will try to

It is 5am when the alarm goes off. Helga and I almost bump into each other head first from the noise of the alarm which we are no longer used to. It at least makes sure that we are immediately wide awake. We slowly walk towards the kitchen, press the coffee machine to life and gather the last clothes and things that need to go into the car. An hour later we drive in a convoy from the courtyard towards the Tankwa Karoo desert. We are being separated from James when we run into an old militairy

It’s the middle of the night when I lift my head of the pillow. I crawl out of bed on my hands and feet and look through the window of the narrow little room we sleep in. Through the cracks in the single glass window I can smell burned plastic. My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness and the vague outlines outside form recognisable shapes. A Landrover Defender is parked in the courtyard. The car sits heavy on its leafsprings and leans slightly backwards. I try to look through its windows, but I

Langebaan, a sleepy town close to Cape Town. Nothing happens here until the wind picks up. When it does, it seems like everyone drops what they’re doing and head towards the water.Langebaan lies next to a shallow bay which is surrounded by low dunes. When there is wind, it is the most ideal place for kite and wind surfing. In the few days we spend here there was no wind unfortunately…the sun is blazing on our tent and after two days we give up. Cederberg, April 11, 2016 A small patch of green

The neighborhoods we drive through show us a wide variety of colours. The brand new highway we drive on splits the suburb in two. We see kids play soccer on the side of the road where a sign tells us we are allowed to drive 120 km/h…sheep, goats and cows all seem to look at the same thing: the patch of grass on the other side of the road. A large sign tells us not to stop on this road, and if you really have to stop call the police for assistance. We’re driving towards a large city, a gust of

The sun rises and the rays of light find their way through the tiny little holes in the mosquito net. I turn around on my stomach and look out over the riverbed where we camped. The footprints from our nightly visit are clearly visible from the tent.They lead to the water where they disappear. I get myself out of my warm sleeping bag and get dressed in the same clothes as the days before. My shirt is starting to get stiff from dust and sweat. My legs look tanned, but are actually covered in

Our morning routine: Ventilation screens open so the tent can air out, put on our clothes, slowly descend our ladder backwards and find a tree. Our stove is in the crate with kitchen supplies, light it, get the percolator, rinse it, fill it with water and scoops of grinded beans. Put the Helinox sunset chairs in the sun, while we quickly make breakfast before the coffee is ready.A young national park ranger has come to visit us this morning. We are the only guests on the campground and he asks

I start to get down the ladder from our bedroom, my feet are on the narrow aluminum steps and when I leave the last one, my feet are in the soft sand. It feels nice and smooth between my toes. The sun is already up and warms up everything around me. The trees in the riverbed hang very low and almost give off a sad look. It has probably been a while since it last rained here, I think to myself. Our mornings consist of the same ritual: breakfast, coffee, packing. We try to do that last thing

We are glad we stopped early the day before when we see the road ahead of us…we are shaking all over the place while I attempt to climb up a rockslide in first gear. We can see there have been cars before us, by the rubber prints on the rocks in front of us. I sit very straight while I manage the pedals. The car is able to do this, we know this, it is the driver who chooses the location for the tyres. I can feel one of our front wheels driving over a large rock, our rear wheel follows, the

It is early morning when we leave the campground and start driving north, towards Lake Malawi. When we reach Liwonde we look for some shade and have a look at our map. In concentration we are studying the map as to which route to take. South, to visit the mountain, North to the small lake just before Liwonde National Park or Lake Malawi. In my head I follow the different coloured lines on the paper before me.The squaking of brakes pulls us out of our concentration. We both look over our

Malawi, our 6th country in Southern Africa.We fill up our tanks with fuel (220 liter) and do some grocery shopping before we hit the border with Malawi. Africa is dry and the last few years it has suffered from extreme draught. We heard that it hit Malawi pretty bad a few years back with severe food shortages due to failed crops. Because of problems with import and political instability Malawi has also known periods of fuel shortages. Since we have two tanks and our jerrycans we can drive around

A seemingly endless looking dirt road takes us through small villages where the people walk outside to wave at us. We are far away from civilization, but somehow there are people everywhere. Small huts made out of clay with thatched roofs are all around. The road gets a bit rougher the more we drive inland and away from the main road. It’s a full moon. We can see the sun set and the bright full moon makes his appearance. Too bad they are always opposite each other, otherwise it would’ve been a

We decide to adjust our route. Change, things continuously go differently than we’ve had planned. Helga dislikes it. For me it’s a way of life. Close to your self, survive, judging situations day by day, checking priorities and choose. And then to see whether it was the right choice, deal with the consequences and on to the next travel day.It’s the beginning of September and the summer starts here in Africa. We can feel it starting to be hot and dry. The wind starts in the afternoon and blows

Mana Pools is a National Park in the Northern part of Zimbabwe, along the Zambezi river. It is not centrally located and certainly not easily accessible. When we are on our way to the park we almost get the impression that they try to prevent tourism instead of stimulating it. The reason for this is that the only road to get to Mana Pools is so heavily corrugated that our teeth were rattling and everything in our car was shaking. Also, the office where we had to pay our fees to the park was

Ten thousand liters of water are cascading down rapidly and sheer force makes for a giant cloud of mini water drops. It is early morning and Helga and I are visiting Victoria Falls. Wet from the water vapor we walk back to our camping in town.Small dusty roads lead us around Lake Kariba, a large sweet water lake that originates out of the Zambezi river. The lake used to be full of fish, but nowadays you’re lucky if you even catch anything at all. After the inflation the tourist industry has

I can hear myself tap the steering wheel with the rhythm of the music from the radio while we are standing in line for the next road block. The sun is intense, but the black officers who are checking all the vehicles are well dressed in their tailored khaki uniforms, high black boots and matching caps. The AK47 straps cut in their necks I see. That weapon must weigh around 10 kg and looks like a real burden to me. Our windows are rolled down all the way and we both lean out of them when we

Early in the afternoon we leave the fully booked Imvelo Lodge and find ourselves a camping spot under three enormous trees. We can tell by the black patches of charcoal that there have been earlier campfires and probably campers around here.It is late in the afternoon when I walk around the car with rooftop tent. All of a sudden I feel a wave of discomfort in my body. I stand still, press my back against the hot steel of the car and look around. Sometimes you just know that something is out

Helga and I wait for Sipps for most of the morning, he is the head guide who is supposed to show us around and tell us about the lodge. It looks like he is very busy with some high maintenance guests and we decide to take a drive to the nearest village.Ngoma village is a small settlement of about 65 permanent residents. The village contains 6 fenced of pieces of land and in every compound lives a family. Usually these families consist of father, mother, sons (when they are married, also their

We drive past Bulawayo. It is weekend and along side the road we see groups of people dressed in white robes. We suspect it has something to with the local tribes, but we’re not exactly sure. We try to dodge the giant potholes in the tarmac and are on our way to the north-west: towards Victoria Falls.We take a break between Kenmeur and Hwange at Halfway hotel. We park our Landcruiser in between a couple of Safari cruisers where guides are waiting for the arrival of their customers. We start

A long, narrow sandy track leads us through low bushes. Around us we can see small huts, built from thin branches put together tightly and fixed in the ground. The roof is made of a combination of dried grass and clay. Next to the huts we see women who almost have the same colour as the brown huts and disappear in their surroundings. They put a combination of mud, animal grease and plants on their skin to prevent themselves from getting burned by the scorching sun.We are on our way to the

It’s 5.30 in the morning when I pull down the zipper of the rooftop tent. A noisy, rattling sound follows, one of the main irritations of campers: tent zippers. It is a loud and unavoidable sound in the early morning. It is still dark and cold. I am wearing the same clothes as last night, and if I wouldn’t have had a down sleeping bag, I would’ve slept in them. Africa can be cold! In the evening it cools down from 30-40 degrees Celsius to about 5 degrees…We don’t speak to each other, in our

The moon is still hanging in the now blue and red coloured sky. A grey, sandy track leads us out of Grootfontein, heading east. Dust blows up on both sides of the car and is carried away by the wind. Helga is driving. Her narrow fingers hold on tight to the steering wheel. I look at her and see a strong woman. A woman who has been traveling on my side for the past two years. Travel days filled with meeting new people and handling new situations.The grey road keeps getting rougher, the uneven

It is six o’clock when the alarm goes off. From underneath a pile of blankets I can see a hand, quick as lightning, reach for the phone before they both dissapear underneath the blankets again. The last rings are muffled sounds before it stops all together. My foot pokes out from underneath my own blankets and I’m struggling to get it back under. It is about 5 degrees Celsius, still dark and we are about to embark on a Delta trip offered to us by Delta Rain (www.deltarain.com). Very quickly I

It looks like fog, the dust behind our car when we drive out of Maun, onto the dirt road full of potholes towards the well known national parks Chobe and Moremi. We drive onto a drive way to let our tires down. I walk around the car and by the time I am full circle there are four children of different ages and sizes staring into the back of our car. I tell them something in English, but I’m not getting any response, while they do talk busily amongst themselves. I wonder what they are looking at.

It is early morning when we fold up our tent. I’m standing on the roof and I can feel that the day is slowly starting to warm up. I swing the cover over the packed down tent. My head is still hurting a bit, it is too early and I celebrated my 33rd birthday yesterday.An empty bar, filled with several wobbly bar stools. You really have to keep your head together while sitting on them. The bar itself is made from nailed together railway tracks. It is so wide that it is impossible to shake hands

We pack up early morning when everything is still wet from the dew. It has been a long time since we had that, with Namibia and Botswana being very dry. We drive towards the main road on a dirt track and give a ride to a local carpenter. When we reach the tar road he thanks us profusely. “ That saves me about an hour walk!” He says smiling. “ Almost everyone in Zimbabwe walks from A to B and we just take that time for granted. I left at 5 o’clock this morning.” We turn onto the highway and drive

It’s the 22nd of December when I walk with a leaden step through the dust. I’m tense, but also excited about this trip. The sand blows up when I walk and falls back down behind me in a puddle. It is early morning and the small little town comes to life slowly. People poke their heads out of simple huts made out of wood, bricks and tinned roofs.From their front doors I get some curious stares and even though I cannot hear them I see their lips make the well know “ Muzungu, Muzungu”, translated

MilesAlongTheSea: proud supporters of AFRIpads.Menstruation is one of the most common and uniquely female experiences. Unfortunately, the reality is that around the world millions of girls and women struggle to manage their monthly periods.Unable to afford or access proper menstrual products, many girls and women rely on crude, improvised materials like scraps of old clothing, pieces of foam mattress, toilet paper, leaves, and banana fibers to manage their menstruation – all of which are

Healthy breadYou will need:500g malted grain brown bread or wholemeal flour350 ml lukewarm water7g sachet of dried yeast1½ tsp of salt1 tsp vegetable oil or butterHandful of additional ingredients like: mixed seed, linseed, pumpkin, sesame, sunflower, raisins, or simply use muesli mix.How to:Mix the flour, the yeast and salt in a mixing bowl. Stir in the additional ingredients if you want to use them. Make a dip in the centre of the flour and pour in almost 300ml of the lukewarm water. Now start

In March 2017 we crossed the border between Sudan and Egypt. Although we surely had border crossings that took us longer to cross or were more unpleasant, we definitely categorize this crossing as one of the more complex ones on this journey. What makes it so difficult compared to all our previous border crossings are the different steps in the process. All those steps can come across as very unorganized and complex which they definitely are!Without the help and assistance of Overland Travelers

My heart is beating so loudly that it must be heard. We’re lying in our rooftop tent on top of our Toyota Landcruiser. It is pitch black outside and since a couple of seconds it is completely silent as well. I am looking at the woman next to me who is now awake, she looks at me with her big blue eyes and brushes her long dark hair out of her sleepy face. I answer to her “what is going on” question is an unintelligible murmur, more to calm her down than that I actually have an answer. I stick my

In the western part of Uganda you will find an area that looks more te belong in Vietnam, Birma or Cambodia. It gives off a totally different feeling than we are used to in Africa. It makes you realize how large this continent is and how many hidden treasures of nature is has. The land around us looks like a wild frozen sea of nature with giant waves, the green icebergs pointing up towards the clouds and the mist, especially in the morning, makes it look like a fairytale. A lot of the native

When we visited the Karamojong we were incredibly lucky in capturing two amazing stories. Stories which are told by the Karamojong on the long and dark evenings to entertain each other around the campfire. This second story was told by Elizabeth from Kautakou and she tells us what it was like growing up in a time of violence. A little girl is sitting hidden away in the corner of the house. She pushes herself as close to the wall of mud and branches as she possibly can. If she would’ve been able

It is Thursday the 8th of October when I close the car door behind me. My hands grasp the light brown coloured steering wheel which is covered in dust, just like the dashboard. The car shakes a bit when I start it and the shaking slowly changes into a more rhythmic shudder: a familiar sound at last. We can hear the dust underneath the tyres when we drive away from the entrance and start on the climb to the village.On our way to the village we pass by some stalls with local products and some

It is just around midday when we start on a steep climb up the hill. We just left the old Christian settlement of Livingstonia: a dusty little town started around 1600, based in the hills and looking out over the pale blue lake Malawi. We are on our way to the Mushroom Farm, a small settlement from much more recent years. Although the name is giving you the impression that it’s taking you back to the sixties with psychedelic mushrooms, skunk and a hint of LSD, I’m being told that the name

The gate from the campsite slides open, but they are having a hard time in getting the heavy gate out of the way. The wheels made from steel are rolling with some difficulty on the rusty rail. When we drive out, we immediately drive into town. We squeeze the car through the low hanging branches of a mango tree and can hear the unripe, green mangos hit the roof like hail. A sandy track leads us to the city centre and back on the tarmac. We get in line behind some cars waiting for the fuel station

We almost miss the exit and with quite some speed we drive off the tarmac. The changeover between tarmac and dirt is a sharp cut off and it feels like we’re diving head first into the gravel road. Immediately we are followed by a large dust cloud as we make our way through Mbuya wa Jerumani. Like every small African town there is a large tree that gives shade to almost half of the village. I have to say that the locals are doing it way better than us. They spend the hottest part of the day

Out of all the rainy days we had in Nairobi, there was one sunny one and we spent it inside the Ethiopian Embassy trying to get our 3 month visas.Our original Africa route included Ethiopia, Sudan and Egypt, but we had heard from various travellers that this visa is really hard to get and most people send their passports home, which was not an option for us. So, because of this we had already decided to drive the west coast until we arrived in Nairobi and talked to two travellers from the UK who

It is 5 o’clock in the morning when I pull open the heavy doors of the gate which leads to the road. I can see the shoes from the night guard poking out of his little office, soft snoring also comes out and fills the warm humid air around us. When the gate is completely open we can see the streets of Kampala, Uganda. We get into the traffic which is slowly coming to life in the city with a population of 1.5 million. It’s a vibrant city with on the one hand the typical African chaos and on the

Moroto is like the dot on the i, it’s not entirely necessary, but it does make a difference and finishes it up nicely. That book on the shelf, with its off-putting cover, it’s been there for years, but you can’t really put yourself to read it. Then comes the day you finally do, you take that book, you forget about the cover, turn the first page and start reading. Before you know it you’re being sucked in by the story. You inhale the letters like it’s the last oxygen on earth. Consciously and