Truck Life, Part II: Farewell To All That, and a Packing Update

​I still have plenty of things from my overland Africa adventure to post about, the fact is that the pace of the trip has far exceeded my writing speed. So my truck life has come to an end, and this will be it’s eulogy.

Fair warning, readers: this will be heavy on thoughts and logistics, light on photos. Feel free to skip this one, if that’s not your thing.

Let’s get this out of the way - all was not sweetness and light.

First, I must address seat wars. Seat wars almost broke us, you guys. The sad truth is that not all seats on an overlander are created equal. Some face backwards, some are in the back where the ride is rougher, some have less legroom. And while most people tried to follow a fair-but-random system of rotating from good seat to bad seat, others... didn’t. An arms race developed, in terms of getting up early to claim a seat before breakfast. And with over 20 people jammed together 24 hours a day for months, tension mounted. We finally worked through it by assigning everyone a “seat buddy”, and each pair of seat buddies moved clockwise around the truck by 3 rows every day. And this we reached a detente. Any tempers that simmered, did so in silence. (For those of you wondering, I was gifted with a charming Slovenian seat mate who loves chocolate raisins. Her mantra is “Accept what is,” including, apparently, sitting next to me for a few weeks: a surly, perpetually under-caffeinated American who didn’t always smell that great. Petra, you were a delight! I definitely got the better end of that bargain.)

Next: fridge wars. A subtle, but perhaps more pernicious battle was waged over fridge space. The fridge’s purpose was to keep our breakfast and dinner meats cold, so community food had priority. But we bought our own lunches, and sometimes we’d each buy things that needed to be kept cold (lunch meat, cheeses, etc). So sometimes we’d do a big shop, and we’d have food for 5 “community” meals that needed to be refrigerated, as well as individual food for lunches for 20+ people. What it boiled down to was this: there was no room for drinks in the fridge. But sometimes, people would put drinks in the fridge. And then other people would take those drinks out of the fridge. A delicate tug-of-war evolved - could somebody sneak a Coke under all the cold cuts, and then have a delicious, icy fizzy beverage in the desert of Namibia while the rest of us drank warm water from our canteens? Or would they be found out, and publicly shamed? As someone who doesn’t especially care about cold drinks, I absented myself from fridge wars most of the time.

But really, the good times far outweighed some grumbling about seats and fridges. When you take turns making a roadside blanket shield for a truckmate to squat behind to preserve some semblance of privacy as we engaged in what became euphemistically known as “a nature waz,” or “a bush wee,” but would be known at home as “public urination,” you can’t help but form bonds. When that person has to listen to you give your shy bladder a pep talk behind that blanket shield because it gets stage fright, those bonds run deep. (Sorry about that, Alice.)

This is what happens when we stay in a dorm instead of a tent - we’d been in that room for about 20 minutes.  We were like animals.  

Thoughts on overlanding in general: I had an absolutely incredible time, and yet I don’t think I’d do it again.  It was a wonderful way to see a little bit of a lot of places, which was exactly what I was looking for.  But if I’m ever lucky enough to return to Africa, I plan to narrow my focus to some high-density wildlife areas and really go hard on the game viewing.  Guys, I love a game drive.  I LOVE a game drive.  Game drives were my favorite thing about the trip, bar none.  And certain types of game and habitats appealed to me more than others.  I’d never have fine-tuned my sensibility without trying a lot of different things, which I got to do on a long overland trip.  But now that I know what I like, I’d pursue that and leave the other stuff (adventure sports) out.

So where would I go back to?  I like big cats (and other predators), and open grasslands and waterholes.  The areas I’d focus on next time are Masai Mara (Kenya)/Serengeti & Ngorongoro Crater (Tanzania) and Namibia (we had an incredible few days in Etosha National Park)/Botswana.  I’d also love to hit some of the game parks in South Africa, which were not a part of this trip at all. 

That said, I’m glad we went to all the places we went, and there are things I’d never have seen at all if I wasn’t overlanding.  Seeing things like the gas lines and rationing of rice and sugar in Zimbabwe, or how hilarious all the kids in Uganda thought our truck was, couldn’t be experienced any other way.  And any ideas I have for future trips have their roots in this one.

I also met some incredible people.  Special mention must be made of my tentmate, Eve.  We bonded over American peanut butter and true crime podcasts, and she always knew the latest trip gossip.  Our endless chat was so epic it spawned a running joke that we were taping a podcast of our own, “Tent Talk with Eve & Jess.”

Also, attention must be paid to the No Upgrades Club.  This group of intrepid travelers stuck to their guns (and their tents) like true overlanders, unlike the rest of us who indulged in a bit of luxury every now and then by paying extra for a room with an actual bed.  Not all heros wear capes, folks.

From left to right: Sophie, Alice, Eve, Elle & Isaac

Alright, now for the packing portion.

Let’s start with packing fails:

1. White clothing - in fairness, I knew this going in.  I brought 1 white shirt because it was very light and quick-drying and was the equivalent of SPF 50 and mostly because I already had it.  I wasn’t about to go out and buy one in a neutral color, only to have it get ripped and battered in the trip.  But white clothes and overlanding don’t mix
2. Jeans - they were too heavy and slow-drying for the Africa part of my trip.  I hope they’ll be more useful in places like New Zealand and Antarctica
3. Too much clothing in general - I could have removed at least 1 of every type of item I packed for Africa and been fine

Packing successes:

1. 6-foot-long charging cable - outlets are often in weird locations.  The 3 feet of extra distance can make the difference between sitting on a chair and sitting on the floor
2. 100-400mm lens and monopod - most of my favorite safari photos were taken with a significant amount of zoom.  While you certainly don’t have to have a long lens or a DSLR (tons of people on my trip took amazing photos with point-and-shoot cameras and their phones), I love fussing around with settings and all that nonsense.  And the monopod (basically an extendable stick that attaches to the tripod mount on the bottom of the camera) worked better in the various safari vehicles we used than a tripod would have - it’s lighter, smaller and easier to pick up and move than a tripod, but gives you some extra support and steadiness.
3. Universal power plug with 4 USB ports - 4 ports mean you can charge your phone, your camera battery, your extra power pack and still have a spot left over for a friend who needs to charge something.  The “universal” part was almost true, too.  My $7 one from amazon has worked in UK, Australian, American and European-style sockets.  The only thing it didn’t have was a South African-style plug, but that problem was solved with a $2 adaptor purchased in a grocery store.
4. Air mattress - the overlanding company provided roll-mats to pad our tents, but I found the one I brought from home was gentler on my aging bones.  I slept very comfortably in the tent.

So, that’s a wrap on truck life.  It was a hell of a trip, and I’m going to miss a lot of people.  Nobody is more surprised by that than I am - I think my little misanthropic, introverted heart grew 3 sizes on this trip.  And so I will leave you with the toast taught to us by Sophie (who coined the term “nature waz” - I hope she quits her job and writes poetry full-time):

There are tall ships and small ships

And all the ships in the sea

But the best ships

Are friendships

So here’s to you and me