Schlink Attack: "Camping" at Erindi

When we went camping as a kid, I remember watching my mom systematically stack layers of camp gear, dry boxes, coolers, and duffel bags into the back of our Toyota Tercel. In the car my brother and I would sit on a rolled out sleeping bag and the back seat stuffed with what I considered at the time all-essential: cassette player, dried out markers, and Big Chief tablets. My brother would bring his bike magazines and complain about his unrelenting growing pains, justifying the need to stretch his legs out across my lap. Since I was pretty much obsessed with my brother, I was a total sucker and fell for it. Every time. Then we'd roll into whatever campground site, stuff some money into a metal box and find the perfect spot to set up tents.

It didn't matter where we camped, on the beach or in the mountains. Inevitably, I'd drench my only pair of shoes only to forget them as they'd melt by the fire. I always got sunscreen in my eyes, and spent an unhealthy amount of time worried about spiders in my dome tent. But man, did I love camping. It meant freedom, burning things in the fire, and listening to my parents sing glorious songs from the 80's. My parents, the camping experts, always seemed even keeled and extra relaxed on these trips. Maybe it was from the fresh air, or maybe it was from the gin & tonics. Either way, it didn't matter.

Now that Mark and I have started our own camping traditions, I wonder what my kids will remember. The plague of corn crickets? The heartlesslcold nights? The hours of boring car time spent with Mark and me yelling "look out the windows!" in search of wild animals?

This past weekend we went camping at Erindi, one of Namibia's most famous game reserves. Ten times the size of Manhattan, the land was once a cattle farm stuffed with cows and decrepit vegetation from overgrazing in the 1970's. The owners phased out cattle farming and began to reintroduce wild animals, and in 2007, Erindi became a legitimate wildlife conservation. We're talking all the animals sacred to Namibia: elephants, giraffes, cats, antelope, dogs, birds, and more. They created 2 islands surrounded by 9,000-volt fencing to keep the people out of animal territory: The Old Trader's Lodge, supposedly the fanciest of all fancy lodges that ONLY the fancy people staying there could visit, and Camp Elephant with incredibly chic chalets and camp sites. We're talking a fridge, hot plate, kettle, private solar showers and bathrooms, stone fire pits (with secret ash cleaning fairies), shade, and grass. No wonder the Gondwana staff was so concerned about "lack of amenities" when we went to Sossusvlei. No wonder we would pay $66/night to sleep on the ground.

I loved that Tercel, but here, it's more than reasonable to have a 4x4 SUV particularly if you want to do some edgy adventuring. Everyone knows that stuff (crap) fills the space you have, and indeed we filled it, but in my defense, we packed two spare tires and back-up car tools to go with the rest of our items. In the backseat the kids barricaded themselves with a pillow wall and their preferred camping essentials: a crocodile pull toy, one slipper, a stuffed penguin, a marble, and a single sheet of paper and marker. They were ready.

We checked in and set up camp, and just like before, I spilled water on my shoes, managed to get sunscreen in my kids' eyes, and handled the curiously huge crickets (which are really a type of locust) with suppressed anxiety. It was all coming together.

Unfortunately, due to the rainfall in the past month, all the walking trails were closed as well as Camp Elephant's swimming pool/playground. We asked if we'd be allowed to use the pool at the fancy pants lodge and they scoffed saying anyone from Camp Elephant caught lurking at the lodge would be fined $1000 Namibian dollars. This basically limited us to hanging out at the camp site, visiting the watering hole (which was very cool) and signing up for self-drives and game drives (also cool, but $$$). It quickly turned into an expensive weekend. Also, of the "24" (I use quotes because five of their activities are the same thing: game drives) advertised activities on their website, only a few of them allow children younger than six: the kid-centric, closed vehicle midday game drive and a visit to the San Village. They say it's a safety issue. In short: for anyone planning an epic trip to Erindi with their kids, keep this in mind.

Although I was disappointed with lack of activities, we LOVED the self-drives. Mark and I took turns tempting fate. I drove through a sandy river bed, mostly because the sign said "beware of elephants." It was good practice, but in retrospect I wish we skipped it. The embankment on both sides abolished any hopes of seeing an elephant unless it was directly in the riverbed. Like a kid in a candy store, Mark drove through suspicious bodies of water at Hippo Lake, with an elephant bull in our rear view mirror. He navigated a rocky, 19% grade hill where we both thought our car would tip backward at any moment. Hilariously, Margo slept through that nail biting event.

When the sun went down so did the temperature. The adults built huge fires to warm our feet, while the kids ran around shoeless like maniacs. The families we camped with are awesome friends, and the same ones who ventured with us to Sossusvlei. Eight kids, ages 3-10 basically policed themselves while the six adults cooked and relaxed. A few of them even took naps and read books, an apparently rare occurrence.

I still need to get a handle on sleeping in a tent. Mark is so proud of his 20 year old REI backpacking tent, but to me it's like a coffin. A tiny, narrow coffin built for two. He thinks I should just decide on what position I want to sleep in and stay that way all night, but that sounds like how a dead person would do it. No thanks. I tried out the kids' dome tent, opting to sleep with Margo which went mildly better. I still tossed and turned all night, frantic and deeply annoyed by neighboring snores, grunting animals, and chirping birds with no internal alarm clock, but at least I didn't feel like I was suffocating. Needless to say, the morning coffees were the only thing that saved my curdling brains. In the future, I will invest in more padding and ear plugs- those fancy kind that only the fancy people feign to use when they stay at the fancy lodge. And maybe an extra gin & tonic to seal the deal.