The phone rang while I was in the shower. But that's normal the world over. Abnormality -- by conventional Western standards -- took a few more minutes to arrive.

My caller began by inquiring after the health of my family. This is customary in southern Africa, perhaps because so many people are sick.

Then he asked me to call him back because his cell phone was out of credit. This is also customary in southern Africa. Everybody has a cell phone if they can afford it, but no one has any credit when they phone you.

I returned the call. With trepidation.

Africans only tend to phone me when they've got "a problem."

"A problem" translates as, "Can you loan me some money?"

If there was a southern African dictionary, incidentally, the definition of the word "loan" would read "un-repaid."

If the guy has "A bit of a problem," it means something pretty catastrophic has occurred.

"A big problem?"

Now these are three words to fear!

I asked what "the big problem" involved.

A plague of invisible blood-sucking zombies were attacking people in his home village up in the Caprivi Strip, my caller explained.

Could I help?

The Caprivi Strip is a curious corner of Africa. Named after German Chancellor Gen. Count Georg Leo von Caprivi di Caprara di Montecuccoli (try saying that after a few beers!), it is Namibian territory (but doesn't want to be) and shares borders with Angola, Zambia, Botswana and Zimbabwe. It was briefly colonized by the Germans, then the British. Neither European power made a tremendous impact, though a flush toilet installed by an officer inside a hollowed out baobab tree is a memorable testament to English eccentricity. The tree still thrives. The post-colonial toilet no longer works.

At Caprivi's eastern tip, the ferry crossing point of Kazangula, the countries of Botswana and Zambia touch shoulders for a mere 45 meters; possibly the shortest border in the world.

The Caprivians are mainly from the Lozi ethnic group, and their customs and beliefs are more Zambian than Namibian.

Witchcraft here isn't fanciful entertainment -- it's neither Harry Potter nor "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe." It is part and parcel of everyday life, and as real to people as the sermons they religiously attend at chapel services and gospel sing-a-longs.

By the time I'd organized a trip north to Caprivi (a journey of roughly 1,500 km from the Namibian capital, Windhoek) the infestation of invisible zombies had ceased as abruptly and as inexplicably as it had begun. But I decided to go anyway. It was a part of the world I'd not explored; it boasts a large number of national parks (at least on paper); and it lies on one of Africa's major elephant migration routes.

And hey, The zombies might decide to reappear and resume their blood-sucking -- though photographing them might be a challenge!

Much of Caprivi was on fire when I arrived. Signs from the Ministry of Forestry instructing farmers not to burn the bush were obscured by swirling smoke and the ground was covered in a thin mantle of fine ash.

This seasonal conflagration has two consequences. One: A rapid regrowth of sweet grass, which is the raison d'etre for the subsistence farmers' arson. Two: The premature destruction of young tree seedlings. The scenario may keep the herders' cattle alive, but is depressingly unsustainable and bodes ill for the future of the forests that still cover much of the Strip.

The older trees -- mopane, thorn and the huge and venerable baobabs -- can survive the fires that burn fiercely but also burn out fast. But for a baobab to even begin looking like a baobab can take 80 years or more. The saplings don't stand a chance.

Caprivi is long and thin and has an excellent, and all but deserted, highway running its entire length. You can drive 50 km before passing another vehicle, and the few roadside villages are simple, traditional affairs with many of the huts manufactured from mud, clay, cow dung and sticks. Kids wave. The shops, when there are any, don't have much to sell.

It is a rather lonely drive, though the occasional stinking prehistoric lorry thundering past with its driver blaring his horn in greeting, not to mention jay-walking elephant herds, provide a sense of (potentially fatal) companionship.

The legacy of war still haunts the region. Apartheid-era South African Defence Forces used Caprivi as a base for fighting the Communist and SWAPO independence fighters lurking in Angola. Here you'll see a pill box, there an observation tower, and here and there the corroding remains of an army base or a bush landing strip.

After Namibia achieved independence from a South African mandate in 1990, Caprivian separatists launched a brief, inept and brave but violent bid for their own independence from Namibia. The Treason Trial of the separatists still drones on, and at the rate the courts are moving most defendants seem likely to die of old age before a verdict is passed.

SWAPO may rule independent Namibia, but few Caprivians are lining up for party membership as the government neglects the region. Talk to locals and you get a sense that they feel deliberately forgotten by the Powers That Be.

The national parks seem to have been deliberately forgotten, too, though this may change. They are largely unfenced, sometimes without signs, and sometimes impossible to reach without a canoe.

Making an effort yields rewards. There are large buffalo herds, huge numbers of elephants and, despite poaching, substantial populations of antelope. A bold project is afoot to strengthen these protected areas, link them with parks in neighboring countries and form a vast trans-frontier conservation area. I wish it every success. Caprivi is a backwater. Properly organized, it has the potential to become one of the most exciting safari destinations in Africa.

The Zambezi River flowing along the northern border has big crocs, lots of hippos and lots of birds. Feeling lazy I spent a few days watching all three from the veranda of my cabin in the sleepy but amiable regional capital of Katima Mulilo. The crocodiles seem particularly keen on postmen. Three have been eaten.

Verdict? If the high prices of a visit to the Okavango Delta in Botswana are a deterrent, if you want a bit of adventure, if you are not frightened of invisible blood-sucking zombies, and if you want to experience a lot of waterborne wetlands explorations and meet a lot of very "African Africans," Caprivi is thoroughly recommendable.

PS: I wouldn't worry too much about invisible zombies. I didn't see any.

PPS: It is occasionally worthwhile to pick up the phone when having a shower. It could take you anywhere . . .