The welder of Ghanzi

One very early morning in September 2010, we left Upington and went up the N14. The sun was peering over the horizon just as we hit that one long straight stretch of tar between Upington and Olifantshoek. 
We turn in at Kathu, where the huge truck (no. 25) and loader stand forlornly in their permanent encampment. They must have been very naughty. 
Here, we refill and turn north for McCarthy’s Rest, passing Hotazel en route.

We glide through the border, paying our dues, tolls and passport stamped, we continue to Tsabong for a quick stop.

This time we hit the A20 going east, destination Kang for the night. In Khakhea, we take the shortcut gravel road. Big mistake!

It is so corrugated that you feel you will rattle everything apart. Twice we hear a big bang under the car. 
Both times we stopped to have a look but could not see anything wrong. At Kalahari Rest Stop, after we had booked in, I slid under the car to see what the sound was. 
Only then did I see the left control arm to the front differential that the bolt holding all together, went AWOL. And with all the rattling it broke one side of the bracket completely off.

Early the next morning we follow the A2 to Ghanzi. While we stop for fuel and get something to eat, I enquire if there is an engineering shop.
After a couple of enquiring, I was pointed to Ghanzi Panelbeaters. I pointed to Ronnie, the owner, of my “little” challenge. He calls one of his employees to have a look. 
He said that Ronnie must call Kempton. Kempton must be the master of welding as all and sundry say he is their expert in town.
 

While we wait for Superman Kempton, a small Chana pickup with a big Chinese behind the wheel enters the scene. In the back of the Chana are a lot of goodies that Ronnie may need for his business.
Ronnie is scratching here and there and eventually finds what he will need. Ronnie, of Indian descent, and the Chinese start to barter and negotiate in English, both in their various unique accents.
I was thinking to myself, how did the famous Silk Route get this far south to Botswana.

At long last, Kempton arrives. The car runs only on 3 cylinders. Asked what was wrong. He thinks that the gasket blows out somewhere. 
Then Kempton dived under my vehicle, took some measurements and went off to the scrapyard looking for a piece of metal. 
With one foot in a flip-flop on the metal, he grinds the correct length but next to his foot. Sparks are flying everywhere.

He bored and welded and got a bolt somewhere from the yard. Half an hour later he is finished with his work.

We pay all that needs to be paid and off we go with a promise that it will not break. It did, but way deeper into our tour.