Nambia Part II

1st October 2004

I awake to the chuckling of the neighbouring Bushmen in their grass huts. I emerge early for a good start to the border. After a shower, I update the old diary over a coffee – the damn bugs are getting on my tits – I must leave now! I wave goodbye to the three not-so-busy canoe guides, lighting up their first spliff of the day, as I drive out of the campsite at 8am. The dirt road just out of Kakamas is quick and when a fork suddenly appears, early in the 70kms drive to a junction, I gamble to the left. Luckily, a few kms down the road I spy two men with their broken-down vehicle and ask for directions. I chose badly so turn around and take the other split. I fly along the dirt road only slowly for troughs in the dust and eventually come to the T-junction on the map, but no sign to Namibia. I gamble left again and using the railway track and compass, decide I have chosen well. Leaving SA and entering Namibia is easy and without hassles, in fact they were quite friendly. In the service town of Karasburg, meaning ‘rocky mountains’, I withdraw cash, fuel and stock up. A couple of cheese sandwiches are enjoyed for lunch under a straw umbrella in a lay-by, just outside Karasburg. On I go to Grunau and hang a left onto the incredibly good B1, running the length of the country. After 33kms, I turn onto the most fun dirt track I can remember, simply for speed. I bomb along this wide, straight track towards Ais-Ais, with a massive dust tail behind me, feeling like I am going for the land speed record on the Utah salt flats. The rocks either side of the track start to get taller as I enter the southern end of the Fish River Canyon, among the world’s largest gorges. Ais-Ais, meaning ‘scalding hot’ is a hot spring oasis known for the thermal baths that originate from beneath the riverbed. The hot water, rich in chloride, sulphur and fluoride, is piped to a jacuzzi, indoor baths and outdoor pool, so I immediately park up and dive in. After deciding I look more like a prune than a human, I get out, feeling thoroughly relaxed, and read on the poolside until early evening. I take a stroll along the sandy riverbed into the beginning of the canyon and feel minute within this massive gorge. On my way back through the campsite, I stop and chat to an English family, now living in Cape Town, interested in my trip. I cook dinner, read and type a final SA update, attempting to fend off the mozzies with a candle, ring and spray, but failing.

2nd October 2004

After a morning swim in the hot spring outdoor pool, I pack up and leave for the north of the canyon and the spectacular viewpoint at Hobas. I wish I had time to do the 85km trek along the bottom of the canyon from here back to Ais-Ais. The 75km drive up to the B4 is on a fast dust track through rocky desert, not a car in sight until at a small river crossing. I ask the girl driving her tour bus if it’s safe to pass; she says it isn’t deep enough to dive so I assume it’s fine. At the main road I hang a right to Keetmanshoop, the main crossroads of southern Namibia. After driving up and down the main street umpteen times and asking locals for their amazingly intense direction methods, I find Kokerboomwald and Giants Playground, a quiver tree forest (trees used by the Bushmen to make quivers for the arrows) and a mass of Lego brick-like rocks for a giant respectively. I walk round the latter first; both pretty average although the 200-year quiver trees are quite unusual. I drive back towards town and find the Lafensis Rest Camp 5kms south. For another expensive 60 ND, I set up camp and run to the bar in desperate need of a beer. I sit in the wild-west style bar watching the Western Province beat their rivals, the Sharks, in a South African provinces rugby match and listen to the odd clicking of the Nama women gossiping behind me. When I return to the car, a huge overland truck has turned up at the campsite, full of old people. It consists of a huge lorry towing an equally large trailer, which incorporates the sleeping coffin-sized quarters of the paying travellers. Apparently if you are on holiday with your husband or wife, you are allowed a neighbouring ‘coffin’ with a sliding window in between! When two huge insects fly into the tube light for the third time I call it a day, close the laptop and hit the tent to read.

3rd October 2004

Up to the sound of the coffin lorry leaving with it’s guests cooped up inside. I leave for Luderitz on the west coast. The road is straight and uninteresting until 20km outside the town of Aus when I the landscape becomes very dry and I drive off the road to an artificial watering hole for the 150 Feral wild desert-dwelling horses in the area, some of the last remaining in the world. My hopes aren’t high as I approach the watering hole but am rewarded with about 50 of the frisky, sleeping and drinking horses, including a few foals. I apprehensively drive though the last 50kms of desert to Luderitz on the lower end of red on the fuel gauge. I roll into this surreal colonial town huddling against the barren, windswept Namib Desert coast stopping for cash and diesel. I find the only campsite in town, on Shark Island, and pay the gateman the outrageous 130 ND. I find the best site right on the rocks of the Atlantic and have lunch on an area of grass in the pleasant afternoon sun. I decide to explore the Luderitz peninsula and head round the coast, south of town. Signs along the dusty saltpan track warn the public not to cross into the diamond mining area to the left of the track ‘or else you vill be shot’. Flamingos walk through the salty lagoons dragging their heads underwater. It feels like I am driving on the moon, whatever that feels like. An old shipwreck lies helpless on the barren shores of a glorious beach. I drive up to Diaz Point, where a classic lighthouse and a replica of a cross, erected in July 1488 by Portuguese navigator Bartolomeu Dias on his return from the Cape of Good Hope. I see a seal colony noisily bask in the sun and climb on the nearby rock. I find the amazing beach of Sturmvogelbucht and lye in the sun reading to the sound of the ocean rolling onto the sand. I dolphin then appears 20m from the beach, and then three more. I jump up and run into the waves to photograph them. After briefly investigating the old whaling station on the beach, I drive back to camp to start cooking and enjoy yet another Atlantic sunset.

4th October 2004

I leave the campsite and head into town, parking the wrong way round (apparently) outside the tourist information. I buy my 35 ND permit for the tour at 11am around the old mining ghost town of Kolmanskop and kill some time buying some beers and driving round town. I get to the ghost town just in time and join the beginning of the tour, starting in the old bowling alley. The slump in diamond sales after WW1 and the discovery of richer pickings at Oranjemund ended the mining towns heyday and by 1956, the town was totally deserted; now being slowly swallowed up by the dunes. The place is fascinating as we get taken round the old ice room, theatre and butchery. After the hour long tour, I wander round the remaining buildings including the Architect’s ground colonial style home, with its wooden floorboards and large rooms with high ceilings, the Accountant’s house, showing signs of careful budgeting and the Engineer’s house, designed to perfection and without a flaw – or should that be floor! I duck under doorframes, walking over the dunes, which have invaded the buildings, studying the rays of lights where they land on the broken glass and rotten timbers. After an hour and feeling utterly dehydrated, I head back into town to check email and send off an update, treating myself afterwards to a burger in The Coffee Shop. I drive back to Aus and hang a left on to the fast dirt of the C13 north. After 50kms of flying over cattle grids and through open gates, I turn onto the D707 for a scenic with the dark Tirasberg range to my right and the glimpse of red dunes of the Namib Desert to my left. I suddenly see the blur of a Gemsbok whiz by, so stop and reverse to photograph a herd of six by the track. I see no other cars during the 125kms blast along this fast dust track, sometimes deep sand. At a lonesome farm, I turn left onto the C27 and stop for the night at Betta’s campsite. I park up, crack open a Windhoek lager and read in the setting sun. Apart from the sky of stars, the night becomes very black and almost feels like I’m bush camping again. So when I hear the sound of heavy slobbering behind me, I kak myself and jump out of my chair. Three huge dogs have smelt my food and want some, now. I slowly turn off the gas and take my paper plate into the safety of the passenger seat, peering out of the window to check if they’ve gone. I remain in the warmth of the car and read, eventually sleeping in the tent, fully clothed with a fleece on – it is bitterly cold.

5th October 2004

The noisy cows and sheep wake me early. I have the usual coffee, orange and apple for breakfast and watch a Volvo with a cracked sump get towed away, crossing fingers it doesn’t happen to me. I leave the campsite in the wrong direction and surprisingly get to take a photo of Duwisib Castle, apparently built in 1909 by some Baron Captain Hans-Heinrich von Wolf who came from Dresden and was descended from Saxon nobility – how interesting. I double back, passing the campsite and find the C26 towards Sesriem, the gateway to the spectacular dunes of the Namib Desert. At the office, I reluctantly hand over the extortionate 260 ND for camping and park entrance and am luckily given the last remaining camping spot. I park next to the braii, under the shade of a tree in the perimeter of my site and boil some hotdogs for lunch. After reading a few chapters in the sun, I drive the 4kms to Sesriem Canyon and walk along the bottom of this stony, sandy and narrow gorge until my skin dries out. I crawl back to the water in the car and drive 2kms into the park, to the Erim Dune, parking under a tree close to some Gemsbok. The dune looks pretty high from the car park but the challenge has been set. Off I go, the hot sand under foot. After halfway, I run out of water but press on, not to be beaten by the pile of sand. At the top, the views are magnificent and well worth the few beads of sweat which trickle off my brow. I follow my footsteps down, passing a wheezing elderly couple that unfortunately will not make it. Back at camp, I munch popcorn and sip beer in the sun, moving briefly to the pool for a cool down. At 6pm I head back into the park in search of Dune 45, 45kms from the park gates. Progress is pretty bumpy on the severely potholed tarmac and when I see a car parked off the road under a huge dune, I assume I must be at Dune 45. I photograph the sand and skeletal trees as the desert sun drops, fascinated by the silence. I make it back through the gates just before 8pm when they close and by 9pm I have already erected the tent, lit a fire for a bbq, prepared a salad and necked two beers. The barbequed boerwurs and salad for dinner was delicious and so were the next two beers. I make a flask of coffee for the morning and hit the tent.

6th October 2004

Up early at 5am to the irritating sound of the alarm on my mobile phone. I pack up the tent in the dark, dunk my head under the tap next to the car and sip a few flask tops of coffee before heading into the park for a sunrise extravaganza as the gates open at 5-30am. A stream of headlights follow me along the cratered tarmac towards Sossusvlei and the car park where 2x4 vehicles must stop. A Toyota, completely ignoring the 60kmph speed limit, flies past me in a frantic attempt to catch the sunrise. I drive through the 2x4 car park into the deep sand for 4kms to the large empirical pan of Sossusvlei, surrounded by red dunes which tower up to 200m over the valley and 300m over the underlying strata. 1km into the enjoyable deep sand drive, I pass the speeding Toyota which is now stuck in the sand – how ironic. I leave the car and start the walk up the dune with the only four other people around. We take photos as the rising sun causes the colour of the sand to change from deep reds into yellows – an incredible spectacle. A German lad takes a photo of myself, my shadow and the moon as I descend down the ridge of this huge dune and promises to email me it – good lad. In exchange, I give him and his mate a lift to Dead Vlei, a rugged saltpan covered in tree skeletons, surrounded by massive dunes. The trees have survived for centuries due to the sheltering effect of the dunes and the dry climate, eradicating any chance of rot. I drive them back to their car in the 2x4 car park and head back to camp. On the way, I notice a sign reading Dune 45 and stop to check if it’s the same place I watched the sunset last night; it wasn’t. I park up and photograph the sand being blown off the 17º slope of this towering heap of sand. Here’s a fact: The windward side of a dune is always between 32º and 35º, whilst the leeward face is always 17º, any less and the sand will not settle. I head back to camp, parking under my tree to cook a huge breakfast to be eaten straight from the frying pan – agony! I sit in pain for half an hour until being able to stand and update my diary via pen and keyboard and preview the photos taken during the last few amazing days. After getting nothing useful out of the unhelpful park staff re campsites nearby, I leave and head towards Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. Immediately outside the camp I hear the knocking noise from passenger footwell again and stop in a picnic lay-by to investigate. I find one of the radius arm bushes has perished to nothing so limp steadily on to the next town of Solitaire. I fill the tanks and ask the lady of the campsite about the possibility of some bush camping nearby. She is extremely helpful and sends me up the incredibly steep Spreetshoogte pass with magnificent views over the surrounding Namib plains. I slowly pass a Gemsbok on the side of the track and then a pair of Klipspringers (tiny, wedge-shaped headed buck) on the rocky pass. I find the lower picnic area off the road and park up, admiring the view with a Windhoek. The wind is howling but I know it will calm when the sun drops so stay put and watch an incredible sunset. I manage to get a fire lit and drink soup and beers in the incredible silence of the wilderness. A few cars slowly navigate down the pass and disappear into the darkness until I am left alone with only the stars and the flames flickering over the rocks. The wind has vanished but the coldness has replaced it. I wrap up fully clothed with fleece and hit the tent.

7th October 2004

I wake early as the sunrise slowly illuminates this amazing view. I finish my book with coffee in the car, sheltered from the morning winds. I head off towards Rehoboth but end up on another track into the capital. I am slowly cruising along thinking of the work required to replace the suspension bush when a huge buck runs across the dust in front of me and springs over the fence; if I’d been going the normal pace, I would have had to swerve or even ended up giving the buck a lift into town on the bonnet! I then spot a small bushbuck running along the fence and then a huge eagle perched on a telegraph pole. I prepare the camera and slowly reverse back but the bird is too timid and scarpers. 20 kms from Windhoek, I stop for some soup by the road before driving into town in search of the Tourist Info. The guy’s really helpful and lets me phone around for Landrover parts. I drive to East End garage and pick up the bushes to fit myself. After checking out the pretty grotty Cardboard Box Backpackers, I decide to stay at Paccini’s, a homely, quieter spot with pool, sauna and breakfast, all for a similar price of 50 ND. I park up in the secure gravel area in front of the house and jump in the pool, before starting a new book in the sun. After dinner, I chat to the owners about their Landrover and my trip and then do diary on the bar. I read myself to sleep in the tent for another chilly night.

8th October 2004

After stuffing myself with cereal and a sliced loaf, I get under the car to sort the suspension bushes out. All is going well until two bolts will not shift. I decide to head back to the garage for the power of a pneumatic tool. After getting it up onto the lift and replacing the bushes in 20 minutes, they charge me 150 ND. I reluctantly pay cursing the stubbornness of those two bolts. I leave the car at the backpackers and after some lunch walk off to explore the city. I spend four hours in the midday sun crawling around the grid-patterned streets, staring at the colonial architecture and visiting museums and the art gallery – oh, how cultural! In the fifth hour I collapse into the seat of a café and treat myself to a beer. On the way back to the backpackers I get horribly lost and without water or sun cream, feel pretty exhausted walking along the side of a major highway. Back at the ranch I nail a bottle of water and sit inside to type away at an update. After a shower and food, I walk back into the city to watch The Plight of a Tramp, advertised on a billboard, at the Warehouse theatre. I manage to get there early for the start at 8pm and grab a table on the floor in the empty theatre. I have another beer as a few others slowly enter and take their seats. I feel a bit of a dick sitting alone at my candlelit table sipping another Windhoek lager. It is now 8.30pm and only ten people have turned up; I sense this could be dreadful and check out the flyer again in front of me. It reads 8pm for 9pm. So I’ve been sitting here, feeling a little silly for over an hour. The place eventually fills to the rafters, eventually meaning I am joined by a local family and sit wedged between a rather obese mother and her chain-smoking daughter. The set comprises of a park bench, liquor bottles and some old crates and a cast of three; an old moaning tramp, a foul mouthed guitar playing tramp and a young homeless girl with an incredible voice. It is excellent. After all the clapping has finished, I walk back ‘home’ to the warmth of my sleeping bag. Tomorrow, an old uni housemate, Mr. Craig Pym (The Pymster), flies in from the UK for the last two weeks of this six-month adventure.

To see the pics, click here!-------> Photo Link!