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Travel Talk

Once a lake, desert now life-giving water source for Namibia wildlife
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A towering dustdevil, like the shrouded ghost of a whirling dervish, spiralled across the flat white surface of the pan. Ahead of us the road disappeared beneath the shimmering surface of a phantom lake dotted with tree-covered islands. As we drew nearer the shoreline receded, the islands morphed into piles of thorn-covered rock in the desert, and the lyrics of that old refrain by the Son's of the Pioneers kept spinning through my head. "Don't you listen to him Dan. He's a devil not a man. And he paints the burning sand with water."

We were on our way to a secure lunch spot after a full morning of game viewing at waterholes along the southern edge of the Etosha Pan in northern Namibia. It was early afternoon and so hot that even the ostriches had stopped their wandering and stood with flightless wings drooping from their naked flanks. Groups of springbok and impala clustered together in the scant shade of mopane trees which stood, bare and leafless, awaiting the summer rain that would restore life to their parched branches.

With an area of almost 5000 sq km the Etosha Pan or "Great White Place" is the centerpiece of Etosha National Park. In prehistoric time, when several rivers flowed southeast into what is now northern Namibia, the Pan was a shallow lake. But some 12 million years ago tectonic uplift changed the slope of the land. The rivers were diverted westward and water in the abandoned lake disappeared, leaving only a flat expanse of limy, salt-encrusted clay where the lake had been. During heavy summer rains intermittent rivers still flood briefly onto parts of the Pan. The water quickly seeps into the underlying rock, leaving the surface of the ancient lakebed totally dry. But, stored in the porous rock beneath the pan's parched beds of clay, this seasonal flood of water seeps slowly back to the surface through a series of springs that continue to flow throughout the year. There are at least 25 such springs along the southern edge of the Pan. And animals by the thousands migrate to these life-sustaining waterholes to quench their thirst during the long winter drought.

We left our campsite at Okaukuejo as soon as the gate was opened at sunrise. The Pan was alive with animals of all shapes and sizes, some grazing on the sparse vegetation, others surveying the landscape for predators, but most making their way across the parched clay to the nearest waterhole. Giraffes, always cautious, seemed to glide across the pan like moon-walking dancers, their legs and bodies strangely out of sync. Nimble springbok, high-jumpers of the antelope family, practiced their "pronking" while majestic kudo and delicate blackfaced impala joined a troop of zebras on their way to a drink. Blue wildebeest seemed content to loiter on the pan and nibble on the dry vegetation. According to legend these unlikely creatures were cobbled together from leftover parts when God had finished making all the other animals.

The first waterhole we came to was already crowded with springbok, zebra and gemsbock. The gemsbock or Oryx, with its elaborate colour scheme and rapier-like horns was obviously put together when God had lots of parts to choose from. It is one of Africa's most beautiful and impressive antelope.

By late morning the animals had begun to drift back into the mopane tree veld in search of shade during the heat of the day. We were ready for lunch and a pit-stop but one of the cardinal rules in the game parks is never leave your vehicle except in designated spots. In Etosha even open-sided vehicles are banned as a safety precaution. Odie headed for Olifantsbad, a natural spring augmented by water from a well that is protected by a chain-link fence re-enforced with cables. The enclosure doubles as a picnic spot where we were allowed to get out and stretch our cramped legs.

As I walked up to a central lookout I spotted a black rhino just outside the fence. Great photo op' I thought as I prepared to poke my lens through the wire, but the rhino had other ideas. With a snort he whirled to face me and began pawing the ground. The fence suddenly looked very flimsy. I backed off without the photo and the rhino took off in the other direction. But the experience drove home the reason why tourists like me are not allowed out of our cages in the park.

The notoriously bad tempered black rhino is not the only animal that deserves our respect. The park also has a large population of lions, which are best kept at a safe distance. Two days earlier, as we were entering the park near Namutoni, we came on a pride of four lionesses that had just finished dining on the gutted carcass of a large giraffe. As long as we stayed in our Toyota they ignored us. Lolling on their backs they resembled a bunch of oversized house cats dozing after a meal. But before their meal, before the giraffe was brought down by their powerful claws and jaws, these cats were fearsome killers.

There are three rest camps in Etosha National Park (Namutoni, Halali, and Okaukuejo), each with a choice of either tent sites or rooms. We spent our first night in the park camping at Namutoni, at the eastern end of the pan not far from where we had seen the lions. Although Odie assured us our tent was safe as long as the zipper was done up, it was comforting to know that the gate into the camp compound would be closed and locked at sunset. The gate provides a measure of security from the larger animals but it does not keep out the jackals. These wily wild dogs patrol the camps at night in search of anything they can snatch from an unzipped tent.

From Namutoni we drove westward along the southern edge of the Pan, through Halali and on to Okaukuejo where we spent our last days in the park. It's only 123 km but the trip took the entire day. After pausing for a refreshing swim in the pool at Halali we explored back roads leading to obscure waterholes, and made countless stops to watch and photograph the seemingly endless processions of majestic animals. At times ours was the only vehicle in sight and we stopped to just feel the mood of the pan. A mirage on the distant horizon gave the desert a surreal, unearthly feeling, and the profound silence was broken only by the primordial sounds of the wind and the wild creatures of the veld. As I looked out across the vast expanse of desert and veld I thought, "this is what I came to Africa hoping to see and it doesn't get much better than this."