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I've been waiting for ages to slot this sad image into a Blog Post and today I came upon this heart-warming story in The Namibian:A KITTEN had the adventure of a lifetime when it stowed away in the chassis of a 4x4 travelling through the Kaokoveld, to Windhoek and finally to Germany where it now lives with two other cats in Munich.
Wolgang Morhart was on a self-drive tour of Namibia at the end of January 2011 and on the way from Otavi to Orupembe, after driving about 90 kilometres on a dirt road, he stopped to stretch his legs.
When he got out of the car he heard a whining noise coming from under the car and immediately investigated. He found a dusty little kitten clinging to the undercarriage of the Land Cruiser.
He took the shivering kitten, immediately named Kaoko, into the cabin and continued his journey.
Little Kaoko was starving and devoured the macaroni and mince Morhart had for dinner. That night Morhart woke up with Kaoko sitting on his chest. After a while he pressed himself tightly against Morhart and shivered, and the next moment an elephant trumpeted close by.
Kaoko loved to be in the car and together the two of them travelled for three weeks through Namibia.
“I have cats and I am used to getting the odd mouse as a present, but Kaoko brought me a scorpion the one evening,” says Morhart.
After returning to Windhoek Morhart stayed here for two more weeks and Kaoko did not leave his side, which made Morhart decide to take him back to Germany.
“I tried to find a suitable home for him here but he would not leave my side so I though we were meant to be together.”
He inquired about the red tape involved in taking a cat from Namibia to Germany, and the process eventually took six months.
“It was a long fight, lots of money and the help of good friends and people who made it possible for Kaoko to finally land in Munich,” says Morhart.
On August 18 Kaoko landed in Munich and although he was a bit drowsy he immediately recognised Morhart, climbed onto his lap and did not leave his sight..
Pics of a trip to the Fish River Canyon two weekends ago - it's just up the road from my present location, about 200 kms:
The deepest part of the Fish River Canyon is situated within the Ai-Ais/Richterveld Transfrontier National Park and the northern Entrance Gate is at Hobas.
Hobas is like an oasis in the desolate landscape and also a convenient Camp site 10km from the Main Canyon Vantage Point.
The camp looks pleasant enough. It's neat and tidy, the sites are shady and there's a small swimming pool and kiosk. 
The Main Vantage Point overlooking the Canyon - a new structure, it wasn't here at my last visit a few years ago.
Hell's Bend - The view from the Vantage Point.
The Fish River Canyon is reputedly the second largest in the World after the USA's Grand Canyon. It is one of Namibia's main tourist destinations.
Two kilometres north of the vantage point, a group of hikers prepares to set out on the tough, 5-Day Fish River Canyon Hike.
There are no facilities along the way; hikers sleep under the stars and must carry their own supplies. Water is normally available in the Fish River but must be boiled or cleaned with purification tablets.
The trail is 85 kilometres long and, once in the canyon, there is no way out except for one or two emergency exit points. Earlier this year, a group of hikers had to be evacuated when the Fish River came down in flood.
Hikers must present a medical certificate of fitness and complete an indemnity form prior to commencing the trail. 
A group of hikers descends into the canyon.
Many people claim that this 2-3 hour descent is the toughest part of the whole trail.
I'd love to walk the Fish River Canyon but I fear that this jarring, steep decline would mess my knees up completely.
The view from another point a few kilometres south of the main vantage point.
In total, the Canyon is 160 km long, up to 27 km wide and in places almost 550 metres deep.
Rain had fallen in this arid area and patches of tiny red succulents, combined with the natural colour of the rock, gave the ground a pinkish hue.
To commemorate their visit - in a 'Kilroy Was Here' kind of way - many people build little cairns. There are probably a few hundred on the edge of the canyon.
Above is one of the more creative examples.
A last look at the canyon from another vantage point - photographs can't really capture the magnificence of the scene - you'll have to come check it out yourselves - April to September are the best times if you're planning a trip ... :).
A few years ago I 'discovered' a strange Magical Garden in Namibia's southern Desert, close to the mining town of Rosh Pinah:
The garden is on a hill which is capped by a snow-white Quartz outcrop.
Scattered along the sides of the hill are thousands of small quartz rocks, many with patterned black Lichen growing on them.
Many of the plants on the hill I've not seen growing anywhere else.
I've got no idea what the botanical or common names are.
Some of the plants are so small or inconspicuous that they can be easily missed, I usually find something new every time I visit here.
I think that this is some type of Aloe.
Such a weird looking plant, like fat fingers sticking out of the Earth - I was lucky to find them in flower once.
These are two plants, the thorny one on top with flowers and, underneath it a small succulent which looks like a Lithops or 'Living Stone'
These two plants have fat roundish stems with cabbage-like leaves.
I only tell trusted people where this Magical Garden is because, when I showed some images to one woman, she immediately suggested that I should dig them up and transplant them to my garden ... grrrr.
I haven't been here for quite awhile now and, in fact, I'm a little scared to visit in case some dingbat has discovered it and ripped some of the plants out.
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My buddy, Stretch Moonman, gave me some images of pythons which hatched in the Reptile Park where he's the curator:
One of the Pythons in Stretch's care.
The Southern African Python is the largest snake in Southern Africa, averaging 3-4 m long. Previously known as the African Rock Python, it's called 'Ombome' by the Owambo people of Namibia.
Pythons are extremely valuable in controlling rodent populations but are indiscriminately killed by fearful, ignorant humans.
Pythons have been reported to kill people but this is very rare. Pythons can however, inflict painful and dangerous bite-wounds which may require medical attention.
I once kept a small python, Monty, for a while but released 'him' into the bush after he slithered into my shirt and left a row of bloody teeth marks on my back.
A clutch of eggs laid by one of the large females in the Reptile Park early this year.
Pythons usually lay between 30-60 eggs and are the only snake I know of which incubate their eggs and remain with the babies for two weeks or more after hatching.
The eggs, each slightly smaller than a tennis ball, hatched after 91 days.
Mama raises her head in a defensive posture, her body coiled around the 21 newly-hatched babes.
Awwwww ...
I visited Stretch earlier this year and photographed two of the babes which he had in his living quarters.
Stretch doesn't have to worry about break-ins and thefts - no would-be thief has the courage to enter his house because of his reputation for keeping all kinds of dangerous snakes.
One of the two babes in Stretch's house was the 'runt' of the litter (with the spot, or scar on it's forehead).
When I last spoke to him, he said that the poor creature had all sorts of health problems and that he thought it will not survive.
Stretch displays some of his 'babies' before taking them out into the bush and releasing them.
The harsh reality is that very few of them will survive to adulthood, most will be eaten by birds of prey and other predators.
I wonder what the collective noun is for a bunch of baby pythons ... a Medusa?
References:
Johan Marais - Snakes Of Southern Africa.
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When I returned home in July I had a unique experience: for the first time I met 'Someone from the Internet'.
Leslie, (left in pic), is a dynamic American lady who, through an Aid Organization, volunteered her time and money to do a stint teaching Computer Literacy in a rural school in Northern Namibia.
She was thrown in at the deep-end when, upon arrival, she was asked to teach English instead - seemingly because the previous teacher had suddenly bailed-out, unable to handle the challenge and tough living conditions.
Undaunted by the sorry state of our education system and the cultural obstacles facing the pupils, she has bravely set about her task, determined to make a difference in the lives of the kids.
We started communicating through our Tumblr accounts before she arrived in Namibia and our paths crossed when she attended a workshop in the town close to my home. Together with her colleague Elise, she was able to visit for a few hours.
I was pretty nervous about the meeting - I recalled how, as a teenager, I had met-up with a Pen Pal from a wealthy family and had felt uncomfortable in my ordinary clothes and ways. I needn't have worried with Leslie and Elise; I dunked my cookies in my coffee and all was cool ... they were just people like me.
Also, being aware of the dangers of meeting strangers from Cyberspace, I appreciated the risk that they were taking and felt a certain angst to somehow demonstrate that I'm not a creepy old perv.
Mind you, I probably did come across as a bit of a Dufus because I'm a little hard-of-hearing and sometimes had trouble processing their Southern accents - heavens knows what I sounded like to them in my flat Effrican Inglish.
Sadly, our time together was too short to get into any serious conversations.
I have two vivid memories of our meeting. The first is that Leslie listens to Bob Dylan - I would have loved to explore her interest in his music further because Dylan had a defining influence on my thinking when I was about her age.
My second memory is that she had on the coolest pair of shoes I've ever seen - they looked like a snug slipper but they had toes, like a foot-glove. I couldn't believe my eyes but have since heard that these shoes are not uncommon - maybe I've been in the bush too long.
Anyway, if she had a quiver of arrows slung across her shoulder and a bow in hand, the picture would have been complete - now, whenever I think of her, I have this recurring image of a fleet-footed Huntress or Warrior popping into my head ... yeah, I know, ... that's just the way my mind works.
I would have liked to have taken a photo to show you her shoes but that might have seemed weird, ... eh?
Before she arrived, Leslie asked in a mail if I thought it safe for her to travel solo around Africa and I replied "No!", it's too risky ...
Well, I've changed my mind - I think she would breeze a journey through this Continent ... go places where I would fear to tread.
Leslie will be in Nam until December and I hope we get the chance to sit and chat around a fire before she returns home.
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Hello Friends,
Before I left for the North at the end of June I was unable to post because I was feeling uninspired and negative about life in general - probably the Post-60 Blues.
I thought that it didn't matter whether or not I posted my usual "I'll Be Bach" entry when I go off-line for awhile.
... I was wrong and I apologise to those of you who became alarmed by my extended silence.
Even though we may never meet and only communicate through blog comments and the occasional mail, it's finally beginning to sink into my skull that the feelings of affection and goodwill we have for each other here in cyberspace are as valid as those in 'real life' (indeed, even the distinction between real and cyber is rapidly blurring).
When I arrived home I was horrified to find that one night of Black Frost had destroyed many plants ... the whole world seemed bleak and grey. My neighbour lost hundreds of Mango trees.
What upset me most was the loss of the ever-messy but shade-giving Flamboyant Tree in front of the house.
I've seen Black Frost a few times but it's never affected the Flamboyant before - I'm hoping that it's not dead but, when I left a few days ago, there was still no sign of any new life.
Spirit seems none the worse off after his castration in April - I got him to the Vet just in time, because Mutt was starting to recognise Spirit as a potential rival and attacked him viciously every time he saw him, attempting to drive him off.
As for Mutt, I was also going to have him 'done' in April but I had to cancel two hard-to-get Vet appointments because both times wily Mutt outwitted me and escaped from the room in which I'd locked him ... I've decided to just leave him alone now and let him be a Tom - I reckon that after his two incredible escapes he's earned his 'wings'.
At least now, when Mutt returns home every few days to grab a bite to eat, he still gives Spirit the evil-eye but refrains from attacking him.
I wish that Spirit would make himself more useful though - by catching mice instead of birds and lizards.
I spent six weeks building a new Septic Tank and in the process screwed my back up - I was in agony for the whole period and it's frustrating that my body hurts so easily these days.
Perhaps I should take up knitting instead - (don't laugh, I have vivid memories of my Grandfather knitting while puffing on his pipe).
I had to construct the Septic Tank as a matter of urgency because without it I can't progress much further on the house. I chose to build it during winter because it would have been sheer hell down in that hole during summer - also the risk of flooding if it rained.
The tank is very big and probably a case of overkill on my part but, ... hey, now I can die satisfied, knowing that I've provided a service to Mankind which may endure for centuries ... :)
There were dozens of different species of birds around, including my favourites, the Fork-tailed Drongo - I just love the way these birds dive up into the air to catch insects at dusk. Drongos are aggressive birds, fighting amongst themselves and also attacking much larger birds of prey.
The Drongo is known as "Rungada" amongst the Owambo people who also call it the 'Foreman of all Birds' because it is the first to start singing and calling before the sun rises ... it wakes the chickens up.
Also, for the first time in twenty-something years, I saw two Crows fly over the house.
The Fur People are all ok and Stoffel enjoyed our nightly walk-a bouts, chowing bugs and digging up sprouts.
I take Stoffel out as the sun is setting because then she's less likely to wander off and get up to mischief. After she's done her rounds she comes inside quite happily, has a drink of Horlicks and then heads off to bed, snuggling under the covers during winter.
Sunsets were spectacularly red because of all the dust and smoke from bush fires.
I know that winter is the time of death and rebirth and all that but, I much prefer summer, even though I often long for just one moment of coolness during the oppressive heat ...
I hope to have some interesting post in the next few days.
Once again, my apologies for being so thoughtless:
... if I were a Good Man, I'd talk with you more often than I do ...
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