A very relaxed border crossing at Buitenpos from Namibia to Botswana put the three of us (Morgs was still in Cape Town) on track to get to the town of Ghanzi by mid afternoon. We were now deep in the Kalahari again but a few hundred kilometres due north of the Kgalagadi National Park, where we last spent time in this vast desert.
Our next destination was the tourist town of Maun, launching pad into the Okavango Delta and venue for our first meeting with the Botswana Federation.
And where the afternoon traffic offered up a few surprises.
We picked up Morgs at the airport, and he was not a happy camper. The time had come to face his biggest fear: floating in a dugout canoe in crocodile infested waters. He spent the night agonising about his options - staying alone in Maun and missing out on an Okavango adventure, or dealing with his deep seated anxieties in regard to crocodiles.
In the end we got him to join us on this epic leg of our trip. For the first 10 minutes he was a jibbering wreck. But then the magic of the delta calmed him down and pretty soon he was his confident, chatty self once again
Except when we got close to a pod of hippos. He and Wise-O were not at all happy.
This trip to the Okavango Delta was a highlight for everyone but for Joelie it was especially poignant. The last time he had been in the Okavango was 32 years ago, with his brother Steve - Morgs's and Gabba's dad.
The twins even got to follow in their dad's ngweshla strokes and attempt to steer a makoro across sections of the Boro River