The Ultimate Africa Overland Journey: Skeleton Coast to Lake Victoria

When my friend Lucia (a fellow legal assistant with an equally intense wanderlust) agreed to join this expedition, we spent three months meticulously planning our route. This isn't your typical holiday—crossing three countries by road requires serious preparation.

First, vehicle selection. After researching extensively, we opted for a Toyota Land Cruiser rental with roof tents, extra fuel tanks, and comprehensive insurance. While not cheap at roughly $120/day, this beast handled everything from deep sand to rocky mountain passes without complaint.

Documentation proved equally crucial. Beyond passports with at least 8 empty pages, we needed international driving permits, vehicle insurance covering all countries, carnet de passage (vehicle passport), and yellow fever certificates. Border crossings in Africa require patience and preparation—I kept all documents organized in a waterproof travel document organizer that proved invaluable during unexpected downpours.

For navigation, I downloaded offline maps on both Garmin inReach Explorer+ (which also served as our emergency satellite communicator) and Maps.me. Cell service exists mainly near towns, so don't rely solely on your phone.

The journey's first leg took us through landscapes so contrasting they seemed from different planets. The Skeleton Coast—aptly named for its shipwrecks and whale bones—is a 500km stretch where the Namib Desert meets the Atlantic. Morning fog shrouded the beach as we drove northward from Swakopmund, creating an eerie backdrop for the rusted remains of vessels claimed by these treacherous waters.

After two days navigating this coastal wilderness (permits required and arranged in advance), we turned inland toward Damaraland. The transformation was gradual but stunning—ochre desert giving way to rocky outcrops where desert-adapted elephants roam. We spent a night wild camping near Twyfelfontein, falling asleep to distant lion roars after exploring ancient rock engravings by day.

By day five, we reached Etosha National Park, where the landscape shifted dramatically again to vast salt pans and savanna teeming with wildlife. Self-driving through Etosha offers unparalleled freedom—we spent sunrise to sunset tracking herds of elephants, zebras, and witnessing three lionesses on a successful hunt. The Nikon Monarch 7 binoculars I brought proved invaluable for spotting distant wildlife while keeping a safe distance.

Camping inside Etosha at Okaukuejo provided the trip's most magical moment: watching rhinos, elephants and giraffes visit the floodlit waterhole just steps from our campsite as stars blanketed the African sky.

Leaving Namibia, we faced our first major border crossing at Katima Mulilo. Despite arriving early, the process took nearly three hours—a lesson in African patience. Tip: bring small US dollar bills for various 'fees' that mysteriously appear during these crossings.

Zambia's roads marked a dramatic shift from Namibia's well-maintained network. Potholes became our constant companions as we navigated toward Livingstone, home to the magnificent Victoria Falls. Here, we splurged on two nights at a proper lodge to shower, recharge devices, and reorganize gear after a week of camping. The thundering 'Smoke that Thunders' lived up to its reputation—we spent a full day exploring viewpoints and getting drenched in the spray.

From Livingstone, we ventured northeast through Zambia's interior, where tourism infrastructure thins considerably. Villages replaced towns, and our progress slowed to sometimes just 200km daily. This region demanded our most crucial piece of equipment: a water purification system that converted river and borehole water into safe drinking supply.

The reward for these challenging roads? Pristine wilderness and authentic cultural exchanges. In a small village near Kasanka National Park, we were invited to a local gathering where I joined women pounding cassava—my pathetic attempts causing uproarious laughter that bridged any language barriers.

Kasanka itself offered a magical wildlife experience without Etosha's crowds. Though smaller, its wetlands host incredible birdlife and the world's largest fruit bat migration (October-December). Our campsite beside the Luwombwa River became my favorite overnight stop—hippos serenaded us with their distinctive honking laughs throughout the night.

The Tanzania border crossing near Tunduma tested our patience further—six hours of shuffling between offices, filling forms, and negotiating various 'processing fees.' Pro tip: download and pre-fill Tanzania's visa application to save precious time.

Once through, Tanzania's southern highlands delivered breathtaking scenery and a welcome climate change. Cooler temperatures and verdant mountains replaced Zambia's heat as we wound our way toward Lake Victoria. We detoured to Ruaha National Park, where the compact safari camera I'd been testing captured incredible close-ups of leopards and elephants against dramatic kopje landscapes.

As we pushed northwest, roads deteriorated again. What Google Maps optimistically suggested would be a six-hour drive stretched to eleven bone-jarring hours. The compensation? Passing through regions few tourists ever see, where children ran alongside our vehicle in excitement and every stop attracted friendly crowds curious about our journey.

After three challenging weeks on the road, the first glimpse of Lake Victoria's vast blue expanse felt like a mirage. We'd traversed nearly the width of the African continent, from the Atlantic-kissed deserts of Namibia to this immense inland sea.

Our final destination, Mwanza, revealed a bustling lakeside city where we celebrated with fresh tilapia at a local restaurant overlooking the water. The distinctive rock formations jutting from the lake (inspiration for Pride Rock in The Lion King, according to locals) provided a perfect backdrop for reflection on our epic journey.

The final night, we splurged on a lakeside hotel in Mwanza, where I soaked my travel-weary body in a proper bath for the first time in weeks. From my balcony, fishing boats dotted the sunset-painted waters—a peaceful conclusion to our 3,000-kilometer adventure across three of Africa's most captivating countries.

Successfully completing this route requires careful logistical planning. Fuel management topped our daily priorities—I maintained a detailed log of kilometers traveled and fuel consumed, never letting our tank drop below half-full. The longest stretch without fuel was 380km in northern Namibia, though our auxiliary tank provided peace of mind.

Accommodation varied wildly. We camped 22 of our 30 nights, alternating between established campgrounds with facilities and wild camping in remote areas (legal in many parts of these countries with proper permits). Our rooftop tent proved worth every penny—quick to set up and keeping us safely above ground in wildlife-rich areas. For the remaining nights, we chose mid-range lodges strategically placed for proper showers and rest.

Safety concerns often dominate conversations about African travel, but our experience was overwhelmingly positive. Common-sense precautions served us well: we never drove after dark, kept valuables hidden, and always informed someone of our route. The satellite communicator provided crucial emergency backup in areas without cell service.

Food planning required creativity. We carried a dual-zone portable refrigerator powered by the vehicle that kept essentials fresh. Local markets provided vegetables, fruits and bread, while we relied on longer-lasting staples (rice, pasta, canned goods) for remote stretches. Some of our best meals were simple pasta dishes cooked on our camp stove as elephants trumpeted in the distance.