Overland Journal

A CJ-3B Jeep sluks its way through Botawana 🇧🇼

Botswana borders South Africa’s northern and northwestern boundaries. It’s a mainly dry country of some 230 thousand square miles of primarily sandy semi-desert scrub known as the Kgalagadi. The centre of the country is dominated by the Makgadikgadi, 7,000 square miles of salt pan. In the north, the Okavango River, which rises in southwest Angola, drains into the Kgalagadi, forming a huge inland delta, a wildlife paradise. It was into this world they were headed.

Broz had a Land Cruiser pickup, a 1972 FJ45, still with a three-speed transmission. Major towns were sometimes hundreds of miles apart on unsurfaced dirt roads, often involving days on tracks through soft sand where petrol consumption could drop below 10 mpg. The Jeep and Land Cruiser were well loaded with camping equipment, food, booze, cans of water, jerry cans of fuel, and necessary spares and tools. As they were about to leave home in South Africa, Garner produced the bottle of raat for all to take a sluk from to promote luck and good fortune in their endeavour. 

| Winter 2022 📔 | by Roger Gaisford ✍️

Living Legends: :: An architect of her own fortune 🏍️

Her two-and-a-half year journey began in 1982. Along the way, she witnessed riots and civil uprisings that altered the course of nations, and suffered permanent scars and memory loss from physical maladies and major accidents. She even managed to fall in and out of love with three men. What better ingredients for some serious character building?

Her trip would still be considered impressive nowadays, but the fact that she was a young woman in her early 20s, setting off alone with no sponsorship or support in an age before email, cell phones, and sat navs makes her journey all the more remarkable. 

| Spring 2017 📔 | by .pryce ✍️ |

Adventures in Balochistan, Iran 🗺️

Along with my two good friends Leigh and Paul, I had arrived in Iran about a month earlier after spending five months driving 16,000 miles from London via the Arctic Circle. Our idea was simple: we had bought an old London taxi on eBay, fitted it out with a winch and other gizmos, found some sponsors, and were now halfway through a long drive to Australia. Hopefully, after another 10,000 miles we would break the current Guinness World Record for the longest journey by taxi. That was, of course, if we could make it out of Iran, through Pakistan, and into less dangerous territories.

So far we had loved Iran. The people were exceptionally friendly, the roads were good and, perhaps surprisingly, it was packed full of amazing sightseeing. But there was a problem. Despite repeated attempts, Paul and Leigh had not been able to secure their entry visas for Pakistan. With only my visa in hand we developed a new plan. Paul and Leigh would fly to Dubai, where a contact at the embassy promised that he could get them the elusive visas. Meanwhile, I would cross the border into Pakistan and we would meet up again somewhere in the north; we would then cross over to India where we would enjoy our first beer in two months. This scheme would allow us to continue with our journey, unbroken, and so maintain the world record attempt. However, it also meant that I would be crossing the Balochistan region on my lonesome. 

| Fall 2015 📔 | By Johno Ellison ( ) ✍️