In Botswana’s Khama Rhino Sanctuary I was visited by Bennets woodpeckers, Burchells starlings, Meyers parrots and Meves starling. African feathered beauties saddled with the surnames of European explorers and naturalists.
The biggest of the beautiful trees in Makongwa Campsite are called variously the Mongongo nut, or Manketti, or Makongwa. Scientific name Schinziophyton rautanenii (was Ricenodendron before).
As I left, I spoke to a German couple who said they were going to exit Botswana at Gaberone “cos we want to drive longer in Botswana – we like it here.” So I changed my plan and did the same. Instead of heading east to Martin’s Drift / Groblersbrug border post, I meandered south to the Tlokweng / Kopfontein crossing.
As afternoon approached the old familiar Where To Stay dilemma started – not my favourite part of this procrastinator’s meandering life. For a change I decided to ask someone, as Groot Marico turned out to be a surprisingly not-groot dorpie. I ran out of main street in three seconds flat. Just outside the ‘city centre’ the Wag n Biekie Pub looked enticing, set in a green shady garden, so I drove in, parked and strolled in.
Three heads swivelled to check Wie’s Die Ou? One maybe thinking Wie’s Die Oom? Manne looking comfortably ensconced at the large pub. One my age was nursing a brandy n coke; one who said he was the youngest oke left in the Groot Marico at 36, nursing a brandy n coke; and Brian, nut farmer, ‘No not macadamias, the climate is wrong. Pecans,’ nursing a brandy n coke. Once Brian and his gabbas had sussed me out – What you doin’? Where you goin’? How old are you? Where do you hail from? – he hopped onto the phone to sort out a place for me to spend the night: Hello Liddy my darling. Listen, Wild Bill Hickok has come to town and is needing a bed, can you help him sweetheart?
Liddy could, so Brian drew what he assured me was a very accurate map to get to Evergreen farm I couldn’t miss it. Luckily I listened carefully as he scribbled.
I bought a round then, as when they heard it was my first visit they winked at the barmaid and she brought me a glass of amarula liquer. ‘Watch out, don’t choke hey! There’s something in it,’ I was warned. I thought maybe a chilli or a mopani wurm, but turned out to be a cherry, which I slukked.
While the kind ladies in the pub kitchen made me a supper to take home we all had another dop, then I departed with thanks for the lekker hospitality and sage advice.
Evergreen Farm’s chalet was great and the monster Wag ‘n Biekie pub burger I had for supper was delish.
The next day I discovered the Groot Marico river runs gin-clear as it’s source is an ‘oog’ – a large dolomitic hole in the ground, a spectacular scuba diving spot. I now remembered as a student listening to friend and fellow student Dave Crouse raving about driving here in his Vollies – Volvo – and diving deep in crystal clear water. He was a wonderful life enthusiast was Dave!
It flows northwards, does the Marico; after a stretch it is named Madikwene, then reverts to the name Marico, bends northeastwards and forms the border between South Africa and Botswana. Further downstream the Crocodile River joins the Marico from the right – bringing its badly polluted water all the way from iGoli/Joburg and Tshwane/Pretoria. After the confluence these two rivers become our famous Limpopo River, no longer gin clear. In fact, some Pom called it ‘grey-green, greasy.’ Bloody cheek!
After just one night I was off again, heading south-east, uncharacteristically in a hurry as I had committed to a meet-up – a matric reunion. So I have yet to experience the district where Herman Charles Bosman’s lovely stories were hatched.
~~oo0oo~~
dorpie – hamlet; village
not-groot – tiny; no metropolis
Wag n Biekie – linger a while
Wie’s Die Ou? – Hmm, a stranger in town
Wie’s Die Oom? – Hmm, ancient stranger in town
gabbas – mates; chinas
chinas – mates
wurm – caterpillar
slukked – swallowed; like swallowing a slug