Driving - Part 3: Famous last words!

Famous last words.  Who says that it is impossible to get a speeding ticket in Botswana?

Yesterday (Sunday) we undertook the long haul from northern Botswana back to the south.  Time to get back to Thamaga and run a few errands before heading back to Canada.  We had concluded our tour of the tourist hot spots of Maun, Chobe and Victoria Falls.

Thus we got up at 5:30 a.m. washed, had breakfast and loaded the van.  Just as the sun was starting to brighten the day we pulled out from Kasane.  A short jaunt east to Kazungula (10kms), a stop to fill up on petrol and then a 300km run south to Nata.  Another petrol stop and then 200km drive easterly to Francistown.  A stop for lunch at Wimpys and then the turn south on A1 heading for Gaborone.  200kms later a brief stop at Palapye to refuel and a quick visit with Ivy and the oldest daughter who was away when we stayed with them last week.  (They met us at the filling station).

Then one last run south to Mochudi to spend the night with Tonic and her family.

All in all 935kms of driving in 11½ hours.  Not something that you really wanted to do but something that had to be done to get back south.  I drove to Nata and Dave drove from Nata to Palapye.  I then drove the rest of the distance to Mochudi.

By late afternoon I was getting a little punchy and not totally focused on the road ahead.  Just wanting to get to Mochudi.

Drivers in Botswana commonly warn you of things ahead.  Thus oncoming cars normally flash their lights to indicate something of note ahead such as animals on the road or a police check.  Very helpful once you begin to understand what all the flashing of headlights mean.

Anyway I was sailing along and for no real reason the speed limit changed from 120kph to 80kph.  I slowed down a bit but was not going to slow to 80.  Lo and behold who pops out from the side of the road ahead but a police officer waving me to the side of the road! Apparently I was going 102 in the 80 zone.  The pick-up truck behind me was also waved over.  The lady was doing 105.  As the 2 of us stood beside the road a transport truck was flagged over.   As I had indicated earlier, like shooting fish in a barrel!

My brother was kind enough to photo the whole encounter which I have posted to Flickr.

The officer sitting in his lawn chair on the shoulder of the road, speed detector on a tripod pointing north and hooked to the back of the detector a video camera to record the speed and the video of the on-coming vehicle in case you went to court to appeal your ticket.

The officer was kind enough to play back the video and there is a nice shot of me about 1.5kms up the road with a red square box centered on the car and the number 102 at the bottom of the screen!  (Just like the nice red dot on your forehead when you are about to be shot in the movies). Then the video showed the lady’s truck and the number 105.

The officer directed us to go over to the police car hidden behind the bushes farther back from the road and report our speed.  As I wandered back I thought maybe I will say I was going 95 or 92.  It was up to my honesty to relay the speed I was going to the 2^nd officer.

At the police car which was a fancy Volvo all kitted out sat an officer listing to music on a USB key plugged into the car radio system.  Having a relaxing time sitting in the bush!

He smiled and asked how fast as I was going.  I said 102.  He then asked for my driver’s license and looked at it.  The plastic credit card sized one we have in Ontario.   I asked him where he was from.  He said Kanye which is near Binnie’s village.  I indicated that we were here for 3 weeks visiting family and I was flying home Tuesday night and therefore it was not worth processing the paperwork.  I knew I was not going to pay the fine and was going to keep the ticket as a souvenir.  He knew as well. 

The tickets are handwritten and about the size of an 8½ by 11 piece of paper filled in in duplicate.  One for the speeder and one for the police.  On the back seat he had about a dozen or so tickets and he said that they had only been there for 20 minutes!

Anyway we smiled at each other, shook hands and off I went – no ticket.  As I approached the officer seating in the chair I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket on which I had been writing down the mileages during the day as we travelled south and folded it as if I just got it, trying to make like I was folding my ticket.  It fooled Dave who asked to see the ticket but I said I did not get one and was just folding a piece of paper for effect.  Thus I joined the others in the van and we pulled away.

Another memory of life in Botswana and a reminder that your words will always come back to haunt you!