TWO DUTCH TOURISTS HAVE A BAD AFTERNOON

It is a very hot afternoon in Mata Mata,, If I was still in Nossob, I would have taken a book to the laundry room in the camp site. Many a surprised camper found me sitting on a work top, with a book in hand. It was much cooler than the tent. Mata Mata does not afford the luxury of a cool laundry room. This afternoon finds me lying in our tent, eyes half-closed and wearing a T-shirt which has soaked right through with sweat, and an open book lying face-down on my chest. Noel suddenly appears, and asks if I do not want to visit Namibia. "Great idea," I say, "is it cooler in Namibia ?"

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 Namibia is a neighbouring country. How are we going to Namibia ?  We did not bring passports with us. We do not have the necessary vehicle registration papers. Well, it is Africa, so how do we cross the border ? Okay, like many others before us, we just stroll across. "What !?!? "  I hear all of you saying,  "you just walk across ?" Yup, like just like thousands of illegal immigrants cross into South Africa, we are going to visit Namibia. We greet the South African policewoman, policeman, policeperson ...oh, whatever, and the Namibian Immigration Officer, and we walk past all the booms, no man's land or no person's land ( you know what I mean ! ) and we traipse 600 metres along a gravel road to a farm gate. We enter, and walk up to a bright yellow building, with big black lettering saying "Sitzas Farm Stall".  Did Noel and I do this in the heat ? Affirmative. The Mullins were still sweating back at camp, they were absolutely convinced we had lost our minds.

We bought a Springbok fillet, which Noel proclaimed would be a treat for supper. I wished I could have bought a loaf of freshly baked bread, or a packet of homemade rusks. There was no dried wors ( sausage ) or biltong. I stared at rows of jams and pickles, but it did not appeal. There were some handicrafts for sale: quilted patchwork bags and little scented pillows, which I thought were rather quaint for this remote farmstall. I was expecting African curios and beadwork. We rushed back to camp, quickly freshened up, and then it was time to go for an afternoon game drive.

We did not see very much on this game drive, and so we decided to go back to camp early, and start the braai fire for an early supper. The camp gates only close at 7.00 p.m. so we were often dining after 8.00 p.m. most evenings. I was admiring the landscape, a few dark clouds had gathered, and I was wondering if it was going to rain later, when we rounded a bend... A little blue Kia sedan was stuck in the soft sand. Inside the car were the two Dutch ladies looking desperate. Could we help ?
Noel leapt out the Land Rover, grabbed his tow rope, and attached it to the two vehicles. "Will he get our car out ?" asked Leonie. Leonie had climbed into our Land Rover, as she was too nervous to stand outside. "Oh yes, Noel will get your car out of the sand. He has done this many times before in the Kalahari, " I replied. Yes, he did rescues the Dutch ladies, who were most grateful. "We had a bad morning, and now we have had a bad afternoon, " said Marilyn. "Two times in one day, " said Leonie looking extremely forlorn.

The tow rope is attached, but Marilyn and Leonie are looking worried.