Day 1
In late October, I went on a trip of a lifetime to Namibia. Three friends and I: Corrina, Erin, and Bethany travelled together. As is always the case in Zambia, our transportation alone contains a story to tell. Simply, getting to Livingstone, where we were due to get on the 22 hour bus ride to Windhoek, the capital of Namibia.
I met Bethany and Corrina in Lusaka and we decided to hitch down to Livingstone. Turns out, this was a bad idea. Mostly because we didn’t know that it’s best to take any ride out of Lusaka and then find a ride down to Livingstone from wherever you get dropped off first. Instead, we waited around for a ride directly to Livingstone. Only those cars weren’t stopping. So, we ended up waiting for three hours just outside of Lusaka, until finally we got in a ride to Mazabuka. From there, we got a ride to a small town just past Monze (still about 4 hours from Livingstone). There, we waited in the only patch of shade available; unfortunately for us, this spot was already claimed by a group of drunk men who persistently harassed us until we got a ride.
One car did stop for us; a pick-up. I walked over to the driver to ask him where he was going and how much to take us there, then I looked down. Upon the floor in the front seat was a dead baby goat. I asked him (naturally) “Is that goat dead?” he glanced down, then up at me, “yes,” was his simple reply. “Right,” I said and then walked away. Not 20 seconds later, a sparkling new hilux pulled up and we piled in for a free ride straight to Livingstone.
Day 2
The next morning, we left Livingstone on the intercape bus to Windhoek at 10 am. The ride to the border was about 1.5 hours on an extremely bumpy and rutted out road. We then spent about 2 or 3 hours waiting in line for our customs and immigration check. From there, we rode straight to Windhoek, with just 1 or 2 other stops during the night. The bus was like an American greyhound bus: complete with toilet, A/C, and movies (mostly ones you didn’t want to watch, but still). We arrived in Windhoek at 7 am and from there took a taxi to our hostel: Chameleon Backpackers.
Our day went downhill from there. I’d discovered in Livingstone that the car rental agency we had booked a car which came only in manual. Note: none of us knew how to drive a manual. Except, Erin, who had learned 10 years before, practiced a few times, and never picked it up again. We spent the day frantically searching for an automatic car (preferably one with tents and camping gear, as our booked car had) and trying to figure out how our whole trip would work without our original vehicle. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for us, all the car agencies were booked. Not only that, but even if we had managed to find an automatic car; it would have been a small compact car, like a corolla, and we’d not been able to do half our trip, due to the quality of the roads. After a lot of ping-pong and horrible communication skills with our car agency (“we want the car”/”we don’t want the car”/”You are taking the car!”) we decided to wing it and learn how to drive a manual. We were nervous (because I’d basically told the woman we couldn’t drive the car), and a little surprised that the owner insisted we still take the car (I guess the promise of money meant more than a damaged car?)
After our fiasco was settled, we wandered about our immediate neighborhood and discovered that Windhoek is quite a modern city; nice roads and buildings, a real downtown, and lots of expats.
Day 3
We were picked up the next day at 7 am (even though we’d requested to be picked up the day after) and were delivered to the car agency, which was just this woman’s home. We ended up being lucky that we were made to pick up the car a day early, as the process of actually getting the car took most of the day. First, we had to learn about all the items in our car—fridge, tire compressor, utensils, and cooking gear, spares, cables, etc. Then we had to put up and take down the tents, go through the manual operation of the car, and finally, review road rules and insurance policies. Finally, it was time to pay. As is typical in Africa (even capital cities), payment was difficult. The card reader wouldn’t read my card, and then the bank was no help, so we had to go get cash. But before we could go get cash, we had to learn how to drive the damn vehicle.
Bethany and I were on the insurance ticket, so we were the lucky ones to drive (Erin had left her license in the States). So I hopped in first. I’d had exactly one experience driving a manual and remembered some of it, but not only was a learning manual drive, I was also driving on the right side of the vehicle (while Americans drive on the left) and therefore, driving on the left side of the road, etc. We went around the small neighbourhood block a few times (complete with hills and stop signs), just to get the feel of the clutch and shifting the gears. I got the hang of it pretty quickly, which was reassuring for us all. Though, throughout the trip, I consistently hit the windshield wipers when I meant to turn on my turn signal! Bethany tried next. She struggled a bit more than I did, so it was decided that I was the de facto driver. We wanted more practice before going to get cash at the nearest strip mall, so we drove to a small empty lot and went around in circles for a while. Eventually, it was time to get out there. I drove down the (thankfully empty) streets and we took out enough cash to pay for the car rental. After dropping it off, it was time to drive through the outskirts of town (on the highway) back to our hostel. Naturally, I was a bit nervous…and then it started to rain a bit (luckily it was a light rain). Luck (or skill?) was with us and we made it back to Chameleon with no mishaps (except a few relatively harmless stalls). Once at Chameleon, we parked the car and didn’t touch it til morning.
In the evening, we went out to Oktoberfest; a fairly large event in Windhoek. The event space was filled with expats (mostly of German or South African nationality or descent). There were only two types of beer, but they were both quite tasty and definitely a leg up from Zambia’s brews. There was another two groups of Zambian volunteers in attendance, and we chatted, drank, danced, and ate with them. It was definitely a festive atmosphere—loud conversation, bustling crowds, lots of beer and cheer, dancing, and good ol’ German food.
Day 4
The next morning, we got up at 6:30, packed up the car, and were ready to go by 7:30. Again, I was to drive us out of town. We made it to the gas station to fill up and I stalled the car about six times on the way out of the lot (mostly because I’d left the brake on—in my defense, I’ve never had to remember a manual brake before). Once we’d figured out that little snag, I managed well enough—once we’d gotten out of the lot, I didn’t have to stop much, so that was a relief. It didn’t take long to get out of the city and after the next town (about 70 km from Windhoek), there were almost no cars on the road. I drove for a few hours before switching drivers with Erin. We all ended up driving a fair amount and I was glad to be able to split the burden.
The landscape going South was almost completely empty, aside from a few goats. All the land was fenced in with wire and electrical fences, but there was no farmland at all; which was the starkest contrast to Zambia’s heavily farmed land (it’s quite hard to find a piece of land in Zambia that isn’t cultivated). There were several shrubs and succulents and rolling hills in the distance. Every five kilometres or so, there were small “rest stops” with a picnic table and umbrella, so we stopped there to rest and switch drivers. There were no bushes to hide behind to relieve ourselves, so we just peed next to the car!
The thrill and comfort of being in charge of our own transportation cannot be overstated. It is such a luxury to us! We had control of our aircon, music, when we stopped, how fast we went, and we had room to move around in the car! About half our drive was on the tarmac, and half on a nicely graded gravel road through a nature preserve. We arrived at Gondwana Canon Camp (near the Fish River Canyon) around 17. We drove about 650 km that day. To top off the excitement of arrival, we spotted a few wild ostrich along the road and there were oryx grazing within our campsite!
The camp was very kitschy; reminiscent of a stop on Route 66. There were road signs and old car parts everywhere. We camped on top of our truck and cooked our own food that evening. In October, Zambia is at the highest point in their hot season, so I unthinkingly assumed that Namibia would be just as hot. And it was…during the day. But we were in the middle of a desert landscape and it was quite cold at night. I brought along one, light-weight long-sleeved shirt and had to pile on layers throughout the trip (especially on the coasts) to keep warm.
Day 5
The next morning, we packed up our tent and drove (it was quite natural at this point) to see the Fish River Canyon; the second largest canyon in the world (next to the Grand Canyon in Arizona, of course). We started at the furthest lookout point and hiked along the upper lip of the canyon. It was quite rocky, but simply gorgeous. The upper part of the canyon was formed by shifting tectonic plates (and several other forces), while the lower canyon was formed by erosion from the river (Fish River). The canyon is beautiful, vast, old, varying, and desolate. We didn’t see any wildlife (though mountain zebras do live in the area). It’s difficult to describe and do justice to a canyon; needless to say, it was an enthralling sight. It is characterized by shifting geological patterns above a mostly dried river bed, bending its pattern through the rock. The horseshoe bend is the most famous segment of the canyon and really is a spectacular sight.
After getting our fill of the canyon, we returned to camp for some R&R; jumping in the freezing pool (even with soaring daytime temperatures, that pool was frigid). We ate a nice meal at the hotel restaurant, where I had my first bite of oryx—a light meat, but a very fine taste.
Day 6
We woke up before sunrise and hiked up a small hill near our camp to watch the sunrise over the park. Rejuvenated for our drive, we jumped in and started on our way to Lüderitz—a small colonial coastal town to the west.
Namibia is quite unique—the landscape is different from anywhere else I’ve visited. It’s like a landscape out of Mars. Flat, long stretches of barren land—diverse colors of white and red and orange and pink, and dust everywhere.
It was Halloween, and to make the most of this spooky holiday, we stopped in Klomanskoop; a diamond mining ghost town that has been encroached by the Namib desert. We arrived in the afternoon and explored for a few hours. We wandered among the row houses set atop the hills of sandy dunes. There was little to no furniture in the buildings, save a few shelves, toilets, sinks, and bathtubs, so it wasn’t nearly as spooky as it could’ve been. Most of the structures were covered in sand, some with giant hills of sand crashing against the walls and doors, and some with just a smidge of sand along the wooden floorboards. All of the walls were characterized by chipped and peeling paint, splintered wood, doors half-ajar, and broken window panes. My favourite building was an old public hall; nothing but a long hallway of rooms and sand and sand and sand. The local school was neat as well—with a caving floor and crumpling walls. By the time we’d had enough of wandering about and struggling to walk through the loose sand, we were covered from head-to-toe in grainy sand (bonus exfoliation?). There was a small museum as well—ironically, there were no diamonds on display, rather they showcased the myriad ways in which people attempted to smuggle diamonds from the mine. All of the them were caught (there were some pretty ingenuous methods too!)
After shaking off the worst of it, we piled back into the truck to drive the remaining short distance to Lüderitz. We were all excited to see the Atlantic after soon long (particularly Bethany, who is an ocean girl). It was fearsomely windy and chilly along the coast, but we spent some time discovering the Lüderitz peninsula that evening.
First, we went to “shark island,” where we climbed on the rocks above the ocean and got pushed around by the heavy winds. I imagine that’s what Kate felt like on the bow of the Titanic—you could have easily been pushed over if you stopped thinking for a minute. You could feel the gusts on every park of your body—marvellous! We then left Shark Island for the Peninsula. We drove down and found a small inlet where hundreds—if not thousands—of flamingos were fishing. They are pretty neat to watch fly—a mix of pink and white and black-tipped wings. We continued on to Agate Bay (my friends pronounced this a-gat-é bay—not knowing what agates are), there wasn’t much to see there (no agates), so we just dipped our feet in the near freezing waters and returned to town for dinner; a nice seafood restaurant overlooking the ocean.
Day 7
In the morning, we started our drive to Soussusvlei: the land of dunes. It turned out to be a long day. It was a long drive—though with beautifully surreal landscapes. Flat open land with rugged mountains in the distance and no vegetation whatsoever. And a hell of a lot of desert.
We rolled into Sesreim around 14 hours, stopped for groceries and directions. It was stifling hot (thank god for A/C). The man at the station told us to drive down the road, then take a right and our camp would be about 60 km along the road. We confirmed these directions with our camp as well. Only, they still turned out to be wrong! So, we ended up driving for two hours in the wrong direction (we’d stopped at another camp to ask directions, but they didn’t know where we were going, we couldn’t call the lodge again due to lack of service, and eventually we decided to just keep going on the off-chance it was around the next bend). So eventually we reached Maltahōhe. From there we got correct directions, turned around, and drove another 2.5 hours to reach our lodge. On the way, we spotted wild giraffes, but couldn’t stop due to time constraints (aka it was getting dark and we needed to find our lodge). Turns out, we’d needed to turn left, not right at the intersection after Sesreim.
After all this effort; our camp was a let-down. It was a beautiful area, but the flies were horrendous—constantly landing on our faces. And to top it off, the bathrooms had no toilet paper, soap, or towels. We crashed into our tents that night and slept soundly.
Day 8
In the morning, we drove out to Soussusvlei to hike the dunes. It was about 70 km from our camp to reach the transit station, where we piled into safari cars to drive us the rest of the way to the dead vlei (a dry, flat area). We had the option of driving our own vehicle into the dunes, but had absolutely no intention of attempting 4-wheel drive in sand pits. We made the right decision—we saw at least three different vehicles get stuck, and I assume those were experienced manual drivers).
The landscape was a panorama of high reaching dunes with a few flat overlooks (vleis) in the middle. They looked like salt pants, but were not (we even tasted them to make sure ;)) It was an expanse of white clay with dead trees spread around the edges—it looked pretty similar to an ice rink, but in a surreal way. During the rainy season, the area is flooded with bright blue water—like a lake. But it was dry season, so we weren’t privy to this sight.
We decided to challenge ourselves and hike to the highest point on the dunes—Big Daddy. It was huge—it must have taken us two hours to hike up to the top (with rests along the way). At some points, we were nearly vertical in our ascent (or at least, it felt like it). We were all winded by the time we reached the top and we rested up there, enjoying the quiet and expansive views of the never-ending dunes laid out below us in every direction. The Namib desert extends 128,000 square kilometres. Insane.
Once we’d had enough of the view, and even sand in our shoes, we ran (or pranced) down the huge dune. We just glided down with the sand, creating huge foot paths ad small sand slides. It took us about three minutes to get down (compared with two hours up). From there, we walked across the vlei and back to the shuttle.
We were all exhausted and dehydrated by the end of the excursion and we spent the rest of the day resting and swimming in the pool at camp.
**Adventures are continued in next blog post
Giraffes and Wild Tea 