3- Orange river

We were following a dry riverbed until we got to the trap. A huge metal cage, open on both sides and with a sheep head hanging from the centre.

Viktor had set up camera traps to see if the leopards would pass through it. It was inactivated, so he just wanted to see if they passed and if they did, get used to it, and eventually one day catch him to put a transmission collar to help preserve it.

There were footprints behind and in front of it, but they seemed to be dodging that area.

We kept going down until we got there. What when the water flowed was a waterfall. Huge. No doubt in the rainy season there would be a fairy tale scene, which, although less shocking in drought, had its charm.

We skirted the area and descended through a rocky area, going deep into the canyon. From the top we could see a couple of brown eagles, furrowing the skies, vigilant to our presence.

And after a few kilometers of walking down the canyon, we began to see green in the distance. It seemed unreal, an oasis between so much dryness and desolation, with numerous baboon' tracks in this last part of the journey. And finally we arrived at our destination. The Orange River.

I imagined it much drier.

But no, it still flowed with plenty of water (much less than it normally carried).

Viktor told us that everything green we saw was an invasive tree species, the honey mesquite (Prosopsis glandulosa), native to South America.

Still, the location was impressive, a confluence of colors of grass, water, the mountains between which the river flowed, and the enormous blue sky that in Namibian lands was rarely covered by clouds.

River landscape and baboon footprint (Papio ursinus)

No doubt that is one of my favorite parts of the farm. In several days of escape to the river we could see a lot of bird species, very different from those in before crossing the canyon. Several species of kingfisher, passing by fleetingly or throwing themselves like a harpoon to fish before our eyes. Noisy ibis, enormous herons, cormorants sunbathing... without a doubt a scene that invited to repeat the descent.

And frogs. Finally, the first place in Namibia where I could see and hear amphibians. Undoubtedly an area of great contrast with the vast plains of sand and rock that predominate in the south of the country.

And to this place we made several trips.

From left to right: goliath heron (Ardea goliath), swallow-tailed bee-eater (Merops hirundineus), Orange river white-eye (Zosterops pallidus), swallow-tailed bee-eater, african darter (Anhinga rufa), egyptian goose (Alopochen aegyptiaca).

The journey of 6 km through the canyon loaded with the big backpack, and especially the climb back, made this place a bit tedious to visit. But it is a place worth the effort.

I knew there were three species of kingfisher, I had already seen one several times since I arrived at the river. And that day we decided to take a little swim and cross the islands... an illegal border crossing.

And there I saw the second species.

The one I had already seen was beautiful, black and white; the pied kingfisher (Ceryle rudis). But this second one was even more so, with blue colors with greenish reflections and a marked orange. Much smaller, though.

And in spite of how beautiful it was, I still lacked the species that I most yearned to see... but it didn't take long for it to show itself. The giant kingfisher (Megaceryle maxima).

No doubt its size was remarkable, and its flight fast. It had an almost complete black color body, which, in its fleeting passage, dazzled with certain bluish reflections.

Not as spectacular in sight for its beauty as the malachite kingfisher (Corythornis cristatus), but impressive for its size.

Above: Malachite kingfisher (Corythornis cristatus), giant kingfisher (Megaceryle maxima). Images taken from the internet. Below: Pied kingfisher (Ceryle rudis).

It was an incredible feeling to be on the shore watching as a few meters away, the pied kingfisher would dive to fish, while the wagtails moved from one rock to another, and the ibis, cormorants and herons crossed the river flying.

African sacred ibis (Threskiornis aethiopicus)

There was also another bird that captivated me from the moment I saw it... The african fish eagle (Haliaeetus vocifer). A large raptor, which was not difficult to hear in the river area, alluding to its latin name. There lived a couple of this species, and if you had luck they could be seen there.

And if you were even luckier, as we are, you could see one of them diving from the sky to catch a fish. A scene that without a doubt left us breathless and we enjoyed ourselves as children. Like getting into a documentary, with a maneuver only deserving of the emblematic bird that is the national symbol, the african fish eagle.

African fish eagle (Haliaeetus vocifer)

And with animals like these and good company, the days in the river seemed to be shorter, as if they were carried by the wind. Enjoying the sounds of the river, including the thunderous hadada ibis, emitting their peculiar sounds between an aphonic gull and the complaint of a child.

Without a doubt it is a very difficult sound to define and explain, but unmistakable in the Orange River, as well as the constant shouts of the baboons that watched us from the distance between the mountains.

Another relative of these primates were the vervet monkeys (Chlorocebus aethiops), that in this area of the Orange river lived confined in an islet, of which they had appropriated, and rarely let themselves be seen, but we could see them in one of those occasions.

Above baboons (Papio ursinus) and below vervet monkeys (Chlorocebus aethiops)

Many times we spent the night there, which allowed us to get up at 6 o'clock, a little before Namibian dawn in winter, to be able to wait for a unique and elegant animal. The clawless otter (Aonyx capensis).

On the first day of waiting the otter dind't let itself be seen, but the enormous giant kingfisher appeared.

And it was quite surprising how, hours later and taking a short walk, we saw the otter swimming unworriedly in the river.

It is an animal that you associate to the river, lives in it flowing with the current, in my opinion, with even more affinity than a fish in the water. With elegance and boldness he feels the river not only as his home but also as his playground, moving freely through it, going out to breathe because it can and to see its river from all perspectives, not just from inside as a fish would do.

Above: Dawn in the river waiting for the otter. Center: clawless otter (Aonyx capensis). Below: members of some of the expeditions to the river .

And with that sighting, we find our place to wait for it on later occasions. And so it was that in two days we could see the otter in 4 occasions, feeling almost that we were beginning to know her and her to us.

The river was full of life, and for me it was an oasis where it was not necessary to search conscientiously to find the animals. And I loved it, but I knew that I had many adventures outside of it, and in the desert there has something that plays in its favor, and it is the surprise, the illusion of the unexpected.