We pack up and have breakfast for the last time.
A family of baboons scuttle away.
The long drive back to Windhoek.
More astounding scenery.
and vast expanses.
A last lunch by the roadside and George gives a little speech. We all thank George and Ruben for a GREAT tour.
It is all over.
Sad farewells as we are dropped off at our hotels in Windhoek.
Bye for now, til the next trip,
John
Up at 3.50am aaaarghhhh.
Breakfast, cereal is all we can manage at this time, I don’t remember much about it. Mercifully we don’t have to pack up, we are back here tonight for our last night.
A one hour drive takes us to Dune 45. 150 metres high, it is one of the highest sand dunes in Namibia (or maybe anywhere?). From where we park the bus, it is a 300 metre ‘walk’ (more of a stagger) up a pointed ridge of the dune to get to the top. It is still night-time but there is enough light to see the precipitous 45 degree falling away of the dune either side of our narrow ridge. Walking on sand is hard enough, but here the sand can collapse under your foot either side of the ridge. The distance to the bottom is ever increasing, only half way up and now at 5.30 in the morning in the dark I feel this is some kind of test of my endurance and acrophobia.
It is worth it. I get to the very top in time to see the sun rise behind distant mountains.
wow.
Agnes and Yumi take photos while Larissa poses.
My turn to pose (again!).
The sand is orange/brown/red. George has already told us the history of these dunes. The sand was blown from The Kalahari Desert a long time ago. This place has a beauty of it’s own.
It is getting very hot. I start the long trek back down.
Agnes and Larissa can’t resist a manic race down the side of the last bit of the dune. You can see how far up from the car-park we still are.
Larissa wins.
Back at the bus, great news, a second breakfast. A Pied Crow and a Desert Fox watch us eat.
I don’t know why it is called a pied crow, you’d need 10 of them to make a decent pie.
More driving and a selfie in the bus with Yumi.
Only 15 kilometres in the bus then a one kilometre walk across the desert to see some dead trees
On the way, George spots snake tracks. Can you see them?
We watch carefully where we are walking, especially those in the group wearing sandals. (There are scorpions here also, resting just under the surface, they don’t like being trodden on apparently). I am wearing my scorpion-resistant trekking boots.
The dead trees are in a valley, standing in golden sand, a contrast to the massive red/brown desert dunes that surround it. George tell us these trees were not killed by the sun or drought, they were drowned when a year of exceptional rainfall filled the valley making it into a lake. This is a strangely entrancing place. A perfect place for quiet reflection.
Back to the bus and the camp-site, lunch and a few hours to relax.
At 3.30 a short drive to a remarkable canyon in the desert.
Forged by angry river-water flows millennia ago, there is now only a tiny puddle at one end. We can walk down to the river-bed. Ancient pebbles underfoot and embedded in the sides of the canyon attest to an earlier time under the sea.
Back at the top, Filipa, Agnes and Yumi pose in front of a distant mountain.
Sun-set turns the mountain red.
Back to camp for Dinner. Burgers. I decide not to ask Ruben what is in them.
We are sad, it is our last night as a group.
Goodnight.
After a second night in Amanpuri Lodge in Swakopmund, I am up at 6.15 so as not to risk missing breakfast before packing and an early start.
We take the coast road to Walvis Bay and stop on the sea-front. Flamingos, Oyster Catchers, Gulls a lone Pelican and a pier. Nice place.
Then we drive drive drive, desert, desert, desert.
A flowering shrub. How does it survive here?
And a 300 year old Aloe tree with yellow flowers.
We drive on, up mountain passes, down to dried river beds, incredible scenery on a vast scale.
I see an Eagle Owl, huge, roosting in a lone tree by the roadside. It is in the shadow of the tree but with the golden sand of the desert in the background. A striking image, now I wish I had stopped the bus to take a photo.
Then more flat desert, and a family of Ostriches.
Now we stop at the Tropic of Capricorn for a group photo. It is HOT here. I am wearing my Hanoi t-shirt, I hope you like it.
A stop for lunch at Sossusvlei, salad and avocado. A desert squirrel wants to share our lunch but we eat it all ourselves and anyway we do not feed wild animals!
Another long drive to arrive at our campsite in Sossus at 4pm. We have some time to relax before dinner, pork chops and mashed maize meal. Perfect, Ruben’s cooking is amazing.
The seven of us are now a well established group of friends, even calling ourselves ‘the family’! This is the best group I have travelled with, all different people just enjoying a great trip.
More relaxing and chatting, then back into our tents for bed. Early start tomorrow!
Goodnight.
I remember nothing. A deep sleep in Amanpuri Lodge, Swakopmund. 8.30 breakfast included, I eat everything.
The girls have booked a scenic flight over the desert and skeleton coast. I opt for a visit to the local Township.
Nicholas and Rudolph collect me from the Lodge; A short drive and we are approaching the ‘official’ Township. Mostly brick or block built dwellings, these can be bought with the help of a government mortgage if you have enough income to make the interest and capital repayments. There are several schemes, including an option to build half your house and add the other half later when you can afford it. I see lots of half-houses. 28,000 people live in the official township. I meet a lady wearing her best outfit which she recently made for a family wedding.
We drive around the Township and see a well organised community, clean and tidy with all the basic facilities. Families have to squeeze into the small houses, but children are playing happily everywhere, there are some new school buildings, people seem relaxed going about their daily business. Education has recently been made free for primary schools. The problem, Nicholas tells me, is jobs and money, not enough of both. There is 50% unemployment. Those who live here with mortgages have to work many hours to scrape by. The loss of a job is a disaster, there is no social security. The same pressures the world over, but more extreme here I think.
So what of those who cannot afford to live in the official Township? They live in the unofficial Township. 7,000 of them.
Still an organised community, a family is allocated a space where they erect their own dwelling with whatever they can get hold of. Lots of wood structures with corrugated sheeting. I meet Auguste, a herbalist lady who shows me some of her preparations. She has something for everything. Here she is with one of her sons.
Moving on, there are some kids collecting water from a communal pump. The girl is pressing buttons, I am curious.
Rudolph, who lives in this unofficial Township, explains that she has a special computer chip device, as do all families here. Water is precious, so cannot be freely available. They can charge the chip with money in town then use it to draw water into their cans. I am impressed. The girl holds up her chip for me to see.
Next I meet a Grand Lady who came here in 1943 to accompany her sick Grandfather who had to go into hospital. While here she got a job as a domestic with a German family, and stayed.
She has experienced German colonisation, South African colonisation and now Independence. Which was the best? asks Nicholas. Without hesitation, the answer is the time the Germans were in charge. The South African period was the worst because of Apartheid. Independence is better than that but there are still many very poor people barely surviving while in Windhoek there is a huge fleet of Mercedes and BMWs. Apparently when a Minister or Senior Official is allocated a new car (every two years), he/she keeps the old one! Hmmmm.
We pose again with her great-grandson, a very cheeky chappie. But she is clearly in charge here, I hope I am as switched on as she is when I reach her age whatever that is.
Nearby I am shown a traditional Namibian meal. Doesn’t look enough to feed a budgie to me. I like the cook though.
Lastly to the local bar. Basic but great atmosphere. Who needs carpets and posh furniture in a bar? I ask for beer and am given lager. Oh dear. Then I remember their German history and have to recognise that the Namibians were probably never given the chance to learn what real proper beer is. So not their fault. It is a sad state of affairs that most of the world is drinking lager thinking it is beer.
Whilst berating the Germans for the stuff they and other Europeans inexplicably drink thinking it is beer, I have to commend them on their legacy to Namibia. Everywhere is tidy and rubbish-free, people clearly take a pride in the place, including the unofficial Township. And they are organised, as exampled by the water chips. And (unlike in South Africa), I have never felt threatened or intimidated anywhere I have been in this country so far.
Now back to meet up with the others for Dinner. I hear mixed comments on the flight. The plane sounded to be ex-world war one (so it would have been German, built to last) and hot, no AC. But the views were amazing and they all survived.
Dinner is in a German restaurant. I have roast Oryx and spetzle. Spetzle has a dipstick over the e so you pronounce it ‘ae’ I am told by Larissa. It is thick noodles and the whole meal is delicious. As is the pudding, Malva Cake (a local recipe) and custard. Pudding at last. I am in heaven.
Sadly there are not so many animals in Namibia as there were.
We have eaten some of them.
Goodnight.
