Dag 4: Klopdisselboom

Sonop in die Kalahari

(See English translation below...)

Vandag was nóg 'n klopdisselboom-dag. Die weer perfek. Die pad mooi. Die fietse in 'n rustige 110 km/h ritme.
 
Ons het die dag in Gobabis Guest House begin met 'n boerewors-en-eiers ontbyt, waarna ons die Trans Kalahari Hoofweg toegelaat het om ons sekuur na Windhoek toe te korrel.
 
Die dorpe is skoon en die paaie het nie gate in nie - selfs in die klein dorpies!
 
Net anderkant Windhoek is ons by 'n padblokkade voorgekeer om ons papiere te wys, maar toe die goewermentsman besef ons moet eers aftrek, stop en afklim om by ons papiere uit te kom, het hy ons maar laat ry.
 
Ná 'n broodjie by 'n Duitse bakkery in Okahandja, het die dag geëindig op vriende van De Witt se plaas buite die dorp.
 
Nou-ja. Makliker as dit kry mens nie, maar ons besef dat ons al hoe nader aan die werklike onbekende beweeg. Met nog 'n duisend kilometer tot by die Angola grens, het die wolke vir die storm ná die stilte dalk reeds stadig begin aanpak: ons het vandag uitgevind dat ons plan om rowwer bande vanaf Trax Moto per courier na Luanda te stuur (vir die modder wat ons by die ewenaar inwag) ons 'n arm en 'n been gaan kos.
 
So ons is besig om Windhoek en Luanda warm te bel op soek na "knobblies" wat op ons fietse sal pas.
 
Die onbekende kom nader. So ook Portugees. Dan Frans. Intussen geniet ons dit om vir oulaas Afrikaans te kan praat.
 
 Day 4: Smooth riding
 
Today was another smooth riding day. The weather perfect. The road beautiful. The bikes in a relaxed 110 km/h rhythm.
 
We started the day in Gobabis Guest House with a boereword-and-eggs breakfast, after which we allowed the Trans Kalahari Highway to aim us straight towards Windhoek.
 
The towns are clean and the roads have no potholes - even in the small towns!
 
Just beyond Windhoek we were stopped at a roadblock to show our papers, but when the government official realized we had to pull over, stop and get off to get to our papers, he just let us drive on.
 
After a sandwich at a German bakery in Okahandja, the day ended at friends of De Witt's on a farm outside town.
 
Well, yes. It doesn't get any easier than that, but we realize that we are moving ever closer to the real unknown. With another thousand kilometers to go to the Angolan border, the clouds for the storm after the lull may have already begun to slowly set in: we found out today that our plan to send rougher off-road tires from Trax Moto to Luanda by courier (for the mud which awaits us at the equator) is going to cost us an arm and a leg.
 
So we are busy calling Windhoek and Luanda, looking for "knobblies" that will fit our bikes.
 
The unknown is approaching. So is Portuguese. Then French. In the meantime, we are enjoying being able to speak Afrikaans while we can.

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