And we hadn’t even planned the route, so we decided to have a get together at Trev’s place, with a huge detailed map and pencils to sketch the way.
‘Stay for dinner afterwards’ said Trev.
With wives bustling about in the kitchen, the rich smell of impala stew on the go, we spread the map out on the dining room table and asked not to be disturbed,
This was serious stuff, we had over 3000km to travel and a myriad of possible routes.
Immediate consensus was reached to cross the border at Giriyondo, a small border post in the Kruger Park , to allow direct access to the Transfrontier Park in Mozambique.
“Good that’s the first 200 km decided on then” I said relieved at such easy progress.
“How about a drink “
The route further on was proving problematic, Eastern Mozambique was having a bout of Al Shabbab activity, bodies of passersby being relieved of thier heads. Another drink was called for in order to allow us to apply ourselves to this vexatious issue.
‘We’ll route to the West’ Trev decided sensibly,but West took us close the the Zimbabwe border at Espungabera, where recent torrential rains ( 1000mm in less than 24 hours in places) had washed away large sections of road, but which bits of road?
‘We have Land Rovers’ I reminded Trev.
‘We don’t need roads, we will drive around the collapsed bits and ford rivers, where once there were bridges’ I remonstrated.
I was now emboldened by my third drink,and wondering dully whether Trev was more worrier than warrior. So we left the 1500km of Mozambique route for later, and moved onto the less contentious Malawi, which since most of it was Lake and only 1 arterial road heading in our direction, should be simple.
‘We could put the Landy’s on the ferry’ I suggested brightly, thinking this might allow a decent bout of drinking time.
Trev’s brow furrowed ‘this is a drive’, he reminded me.
So we adjourned for supper, agreeing that we had only really agreed that we should maintain a Northerly heading.