in the Namib part 2

Animal count: nothing

We also explored apart of the Namib that is often photographed for postcards and book covers and travel brochures.  Slithering over the sane in 4 wheel drive vehicles we were dopped off not far from the Dead Vlei and the Hidden Vlei. The word 'vlei' means low, open landscape and it is truly unearthly.

Surrounded by high red sand dunes that had to be clambered up, one descended into what looked like a dried up lakebed.  It was coloured white, and we were told this was the salt that 'washed' down from the sand over the centuries of wind.  It looked like it was calcified mud or clay, but whatever it as it supported several dead trees. These stood in relief with rock hard grey branches twisted up and over and out.  They supported the odd bird (hooded crows and house sparrows and other), but we saw no other wild life.  The whole place looked like a Tim Burton movie set.

It was hot, but oh so dry.  Perhaps in the high 20s or 30s  - in the summer it gets to 65 degrees here.  Hard not to be struck with its unique presence, and we spend time just wandering and photographing, before clambering up and out again.  Our shoes and socks and legs by this time were red with the fine dust of sand.  Good thing we are heading to Swakopmund where we will have a laundry opportunity.

Very, Very Small Towns

Animal count: Gemsbok, springbok, zebra, duiker, cape fox, bat eared fox, black backed jackal, giraffe, aardwolf, barking gecko, agama lizard

Namibia has small towns. Very, very small towns.

Take for example, Seeheim.  We turned off the main road to a smaller and much rougher gravel road that followed a now defunct train line for the short distance to Seemheim, where we were to stop for lunch.  We stopped at a collection of three smallish houses and one very odd hotel, that was built with dark brick in teh style of a small fortress.  That's it.  The entire town of Seeheim. And I know this because there is a sign by the train tracks telling me so:

 


Inside the pub of an unexpected and unique hotel








And then there is Helmeringhausen, which takes longer to say than to see.  It consists of one wide street, on one side with an excellent general store, and a gas station that is really just a pump outside a tiny shack.  A very bored attendant was napping next to the pumps on the street. The other side indicates an ATM but looked like a barn, a museum and a hotel, also built with black bricks with a castle-like tessellated facade.

Helmeringhausen's main street -
that is, its only street

But perhaps our favourite thus far is very aptly named Solitaire.  We pulled up for a toilet stop and to fuel up, and found a tiny place that at least has the grace to acknolwedge its size.

The turnoff from the highway was decorated with old cars rusting decoratively among prickly pear cacti.  There was a gas station, general store, cafe, and two lodges.  whoo-hoo.

 








in the Namib

Animal count: baboons, springbok, ostriches, dassies, gemsboks, turkeys, chickens, geese, kudu, wild horses of Aus, cows, sheep, goats, porcupine, African pole cat, ground squirrel

The word "Namib" means "vast dry plain", and its character is so singular it's no wonder the country based its name upon the word in 1990. (I forget just how young Namibia country is!)

Moving north, we passed the diamond territory (strictly keep out everyone!)  and the landscape changed constantly and yet remained the same - dessicated and desolate.  It is like travelling on the moon.  At one point we hiked out along the ridge of the second largest canyon in the world, the Fish River Canyon, and learned that a canyon is formed by water and a gorge is formed by tectonic plates.  We have nine teachers on this tour, so I'm not the only one keen on knowing these factual tidbits.

Fish River canyon

I doubt if you could walk this close to the edge at home

For such a forlorn land, the roads were extremely good, with some of them even paved. Until, that is, we got cloe to the Namib itself.

Drifters' desert camp is both luxurious and spartan. Small flat areas (big enough for 1 tent) are surounded by low stone walls and covered with stick rooves.  There is a large communal space with a sink and counter on one side and an open fire pit in the middle. There is a small stone structure that houses gender-separate facilities, one flush toilet and one warm water shower plus a sink in the middle.  All are open to the skies and strategically to the landscape without fear of being seen.  There is also a pool, which is a round of 4 feet deep and 10 feet across that has even colder water than the cold water pool at Fish River.

one of many Gemsboks seen

our little camp of sticks

 We decided to use our tent only as a ground sheet and sleep under the stars (and the stick roof), which are magnificent (not so much the stick roof.  You've seen one once you've seen them all).  Individual gallaxies within the Milky way are clearly seen, starlight bright enough to outline the black silhouettes of rocky outcrops over the savannah.

We had been prepared for biting cold, as cold at least as the Karoo, maybe colder. We have silk liners for our sleeping bags, we have wool socks and gloves and a hat, we have multiple layers of clothing, we have a hot water bottle (with a fetching faux-leopard fur covering). But inside we got a balmy evening of maybe 8-10 degrees. Temperature is the clincher when deciding between tent or no tent. That and wild animals.  There are leopards in the area, but we are not likely to be the target.  Gemsbok and springbok are herbivores, and African pole cats are so darn gosh cute we might be tempted to just bring it inside the sleeping back with us.



Namibian sand dune

Martin cooling off in the inevitable desert breeze

Our desert experience continued with game walks, walks on our own, game drives, and dunes.  And no one does dunes like Namibia does dunes.  We grumbled about having to awake at 4am to get to them, but seeing the drama of the rising sun touching on these huge sandy dunes and making long shadows that curve and slice was worth it.  The sand is heavy though.  Some grains are black, and magnetized.  After climbing the edge of one, we tried to slide our way down the side, but it was impossible to get any real shushing and it instead was a sort of sloppy run down, sand filling our shoes. 

In Swakopmund, one can sandboard or sandski, which is another of Namibia's bids for tourism dollars.   You can also quad bike on the dunes, fish for tuna, go for whale and dolphin watching, and skydive.  And us?  You probably won't believe this, but we have signed up for sky diving.  Us. sky diving.

Watch this space!

On the Orange River (it's not orange)

Animal count: baboons, ostriches, monitor lizard, 1 cat

Proper camping here, we have big two man tents that weigh a tonne.  We staked our claim, wrestled with old canvas, and marvelled at such an oasis in such an inhopitable land.  Namibia (all 10 minutes worth that we've seen as yet) is sand and stone and not a lot else.  This river, part of which acts as a national boundary with South Africa, is a boon to such a poor country.  Travellers come to canoe its waters, sometimes for days, camping on its sandy banks. Our camp alone has over 300 canoes, all of which get used in the height of the season.

Tall grasses provide thatching material for houses and cabins and huts.  Irrigation has allowed crops: peppers, table grapes, tomatos and squash.  There are camps and lodges being built before our eyes,  black stone and grey sand becoming little patches of watered grass and planted trees.  Mirror-still pools of torquoise look inviting until one toe reveals unheated water.  Still, some hardy souls brave it, while others try the river. I watch them from a sunny perch near another ancient cat (how do these little morsels survive?)


We spent one blissful day canoing, paddling along, have mock contests between 'the Swiss', 'the Spanish', 'the Australians' and a surprisingly competitive team Canada.  All those upper body exercises seem to have worked!  Of particular appeal were the few sections of rapids, and we regretfully nosed up to a sandy beach at the end.

Oh, and the reason is is called the Orange River is not because dramatic red sandstone cliffs reflected by the muddy water look orange, but because of William of Orange.  This was Dutch territory once.  Another romantic myth crushed.

good-bye South Africa (for now)

Animal count: baboons, horses, cows, ostriches, penguins, sheep, zebras, a horde of mini yorkies, some fish and 1 parrot.

Our last night in South Africa for a few weeks is a dot on the west coast, right beside the diamond mining property. Martin and I (along with 2 Australians) scored a separate little cabin, which had not heat but everything else.  We thought we'd be camping tonight so a little cold is a small cross to bear. Apparently the camping facility used by the company (Drifters) wasn't up to snuff so instead we all sit down for a dinner of babottie and beer, surrounded by cute little dogs, an open fire and the occasional squawking of a blue parrot (beautiful plumage) until our guide got so fed up with having his briefing session interrupted somuch he throw a towel over the cage and that was that.

Our journey up through the south west of South Africa showed us long green fields of grain and orchards of cape gooseberries and oranges, which gradually petered out until it was just the rock and us, 17 strangers (18 including the guide) rumbling up the road at 120 kmh in a big green truck nicknamed Sophie (we were told all the trucks are named Sophie).  We've spend two days touring the same parts of Cape Town that Martin and I toured at the end of the previous safari, but there were differences.  But we are still a bit tenuous with each other. Smiles but not a lot more.

But this dot on the coast that houses about 100 or so is the real jumping off point of our tour, thanks to spitfire rock.  Think of it.  You are a wave on the Atlantic ocean. You have been travelling for thousands of kilometres and have both height and force to your advantage.  Imagine then, hurtling in to land and coming up against a huge, round shoulder of a rock.  What could you do but burst up and out and over?




Watching the sunset over this place, and the waves over this aptly named rock, and taking pictures of it and each other - that is the first connection we have made together as travellers, sharing a moment in time and space that no one else shares exactly the same way. 

Interim Oasis

Between safari 1 and safari 2, we made ourselves available for work knowing we would have wifi.  Which means we parked ourselves at a desk early in the morning and practically stayed there until bedtime.

Thankfully we chose the right place to park it. Black Heath Lodge on Sea Point.  Excellent breakfasts. Nice rooms. A pool (but not open in the winter). And a resident cat.  Soda. 18 years old and a voice that could strip paint.

Soda would invariably find us near the fire in the bar area (our "office"). He would often twirl himself on my chair behind me.  Sometimes he would lie all tucked in like a furry meatloaf in front of the fire, until his hair was hot to the touch.  Once, when we headed back to our room for a conference skype, he came with us. After awhile we got a phone call - "is Soda by any chance with you?"  How did they know?????

Other than one morning out to see Robben Island, we never left the place.  At about 7pm I/we would have a glass of red wine and converse with other guests, particularly one who like us was here 'on business'.  We'd talk about our work, then about the world in general and then what we want to do to help fix it!

On our fifth and final day now, we are up to date with work - everything that needed to get done has been done and the balls have all been batted back to the clients.  We now leave this little paradise (king size bed, thick pillows, warm air, TV) for 4 weeks of camping in the wild.  It's been grand.  If we ever come back to Cape Town we will stay here.  And hope Soda is still going. That gutteral, rasping yowl of his will no doubt turn up in a future nightmare.

Post Script

P.S.  The next morning, after we all had parted, it rained and blew a gale!