Oxfam Are Liars

Phew. I need to catch my breath. I'm in Swakopmund, Namibia, a week into an overland journey which seems to be getting longer all the time. Thousands of miles covered, many friends made (even if only for a day) and so much more to come.

African people crack me up, they really do. Every experience I have with them seems massively surreal. Like arguing about Kenny Daglish's transfer policy with an Ovambo (African tribe) cook in the smallest town in Namibia. Like causing a group of Bushmen to howl with laughter at my inability to pronounce their names, because they make clicking noises instead of certain sounds. Like asking one of our guides where to put a black sack full of rubbish and him just taking the bag and putting it in a nearby shopping trolley whilst saying, "This Is Africa. Anything is possible."

TIA was not an acronym invented for Blood Diamond. People here do not allow themselves to be restricted by convention or regulations - which is a good thing and a bad thing. If something does not go to plan, they just carry on, doing things to the best of their ability. But equally, if there is a way to avoid putting in extra effort, they will always do so.

So after a couple of nights in Cape Town, where I walked home alone at 3 in the morning without being mugged, I started on my epic journey to Victoria Falls and beyond. Between wine tasting and canoeing, with a bit of skydiving in between, it has been a bit of an eyeopener. Southern Africa is not backward, nor is it undeveloped. It has its poor parts, but the only difference between them and Basildon is that people over here don't live off benefits.

There is great wealth and prosperity here, with the people being intelligent and articulate. They have a sense of duty and pride which is pretty cool to see, coming from a country where everyone just moans all the time.

And the landscape is something else. I've seen green fields stretching to the horizon, dry plains scorched by the sun, deserts marked by dunes always on the move, great open bays with empty sandy beaches, flat topped mountains losing their struggle against nature, and valleys reminiscent of the Scottish highlands but devoid of water. Ostriches and Springbok roam free, with Gemsbok and Kudu chasing passing vehicles, whilst I can't leave my shoes outside at night lest they get stolen by the jackals. Mental.

We're not allowed to say the roads are bumpy. Because they're not really roads. More like gravel in a line (not a very straight one). And travelling over them is actually a pleasant experience. Apparently. Called an
'African Massage' - more like sitting on top of a washing machine for five hours. Good for calorie burn though (necessary, given the amount of beer I am drinking).

Currently in the last town I will see for a while, about to hit the Etoshia national park - one of the top five in Africa, where obviously I am hoping to see the big five. I'll take lots of pictures of lions and giraffes and put them up. And I will try not to get my hands mauled in the process - because that happens quite regularly...apparently.