Crossing the border into Namibia we left South Africa’s cooler coastal temperatures and green botanical gardens behind for a 46 degree day and the desert, both we would be getting used too as we spent the next 11 days trekking up the country in our overland truck (bus driver John gets very angry if you call it a bus, “I am truck driver, not bus driver.”). Camping along the orange river magical, the pools providing reprieve after a day in the sand dunes or watching the sunrise in the gorges. My favourite moments often happened at sunrise or sunset, the scenes as the sun hit the landscape one like no other, our morning yoga routine also playing a part. The often long drive days were forgiven quickly, Namibia is vast, and so so beautiful, the landscape in the south reminding me of WA’s Pilbara, whilst at times I was somewhere so unique and new. Of course, the animals a highlight, the hotels dogs my favourite, but my little snippet of the big 5, and other African wildlife fuelling the fire for more to come, my camera already full. These past 11 days were unreal, Namibians so kind, the small towns made of tin or wood shacks long and far between, my allergies and lungs hating the dust the truck created, but natures air con a must in 45+ degree weather, blessed with a cooler few days rest on the west coast, washing clothes and dipping in the Atlantic before we continued east for some “proper” bush camping. The 11 days was ever-suprising and exceeded all expectations.

Namibia

The border crossing into Namibia was easy, being quiet in immigration the hardest part, the air conned office very welcomed, temperature gauges reaching 50 degrees Celsius. A shere 10 minute drive from the border was our campsite for the night, Fenix Unite, a NWR, owned by the Namibian government, as are most lodges, hotels and campsites here. With the pool overlooking the orange river it was the perfect setting for some sundowners and a cool off after a long day on the heat, the sun setting over the mountains always beautiful and a sight I’ll never quite get over. Orange river, stretching 2500km’s through oshowoto and namibia before expelling itself into the pacific in South Africa plays a vital role in water irrigation in all 3 countries (providing for hundreds of thousands of citizens). A plane circling fertilising the fields on the South African side woke me early, in time for a morning yoga session and swim, my body reminding me I am not flexible, but me hoping my routine sticks, even when my yoga instructor and new friend Ela leaves. The clang hopped into canoes the following morning for a not so leisurely paddle “downstream”, whilst I exchanged the 11 km paddle for some laps in the pool and catching up with the other world that is existing back in Perth. Limited wifi and off grid travel is my favourite, the ability to switch of with no ability to check your phone is one I’ll never take for granted, my time on Christmas Island teaching me that I will reach for my phone just for the sake of it, to be able to just be content with sitting and not doing, or picking up a book instead.

Passing the towns, long and far between, the landscape here reminds me of WA’s Pilbara, dry, mountain range large and dirt, that is until you’d pass a town with a lush green vineyard or pineapple farm… the whole time odd and a concept I couldn’t quite get over. Paw paw cream a godsend for my dry flaky lips, never before have I had cracked lips this bad, the malaria tablets apparently making you much more sensitive to the Africa heat, like the rest of the world feeling it more this year than ever, November seeing heats like these means a hotter than ever summer. I can’t help but feeling helpless knowing so many towns and communities here spend their summers in tin boxes with no reprieve via air cons or pools… community swimming pools here would save lives.

The last town we drove passed before we reached desert was huge, stretching for many kilometres in the sand, shacks made of mostly wood and some tin, a sight. The mountains in the background beautiful, a contrast to the life I’m sure the people are living inside, men working hard to harvest and work, the women busily collecting food for the cooking and children at the school that I am only hoping they have. Their life one that they (again, hopefully) love and know no different, a situation where you can simply be anywhere because you have all the love you would ever need. My sarong wrapped around my head right as I type this, the dust in the desert not enjoyable for my hayfever nor lungs, the landscape treterous, with limited cars I prayed we wouldn’t break down, this is not the place you want to do it, as much as I have trust in John’s mechanical abilities, I also have the trust that 5 minutes without moving air, albeit hot, would send the 11 of us in a frenzy, my ice water I stole from the lodge lifesaving.

The Namib Desert

Fish river canyon, the second biggest in the world, truely was magnificent. Sat on the cliff edge watching as the sun drifted beyond the horizon was magical, sunsets and rises here for sure my favourite, as comfy as my makeshift bed is, when will I ever be able to say I have watched the sun set over the Namibian desert before, or better, rise above it.

The sand dunes here are wild, and unique, I’m convinced there’s no place quite like it, the early wake up quickly forgiven once the sun hit the sand transforming the landscape into hills of deep reds and oranges. My camera and phone both got a workout, I’m sure I took over 1000 pics of the dunes, the sun rise potentially my favourite ever, feeling insignificant and worlds away from the coast back home. Whilst the option to climb Dune 45 tempting, the opportunity to see the sun hit the edges and landscape beyond was one I couldn’t pass up, and the hour I spent alone welcomed after a busy few days meeting my 10 new intrepid friends (as much as I love them!). The dunes here in Sossusvlei are magical, the big daddy sitting at 350 metres from base to top, with both star dunes and bracha dunes in abundance. The different colours from the sand blowing in from both the orange river and the sea, the more deepened sand older, smaller and coming in from the orange river, the iron metals within strong enough to be drawn out from a small fridge magnet.

Deadvlei

A short 4x4 ride away from dune 45 is the instagram famous Deadvlei, vlei meaning a valley of trees, deadvlei describing exactly what was the picturesque views we travelled too, dead trees. The camel-thorn trees are a protected species, and to the local Nama tribe, an essential source of shade, and caffeine hit, with the sickle-cell fruits replacing what we know as coffee ground. The deadvlei have been dead 900 years, after the Tsauchab river dried up, yet the clay pan the trees sit upon mean the trees stay standing, creating a beautiful and picturesque landscape for many influencers and tourists to come and enjoy each day.

Animals

On our drive through the desert, our first animal, the Orix, the national animal of Namibia, a type of antelope, the straight horns identifying it apart from its cousin the springbok, not to be confused with the kochi… I was confused!! Our excitement continued upward when one stripy Orix was actually a zebra, my first “proper” African animal. The family of about 6 chilling not a mere 20 metres from the roadside, my eyes peeled for more, before turning back to my book. Another tour group soon drew our attention to another road side sighting, this time 2 black rhinos, endangered and incredible, although without my cameras zoom they would easily be mistaken for 2 rocks… I thought our guides were having us on! Excitement filling the overland truck, our journey continued, more campsite pools to end the day in, beers and games of monopoly, I became quickly content and routines with camping, the early mornings enjoyable with sunrises like no other.

Bushman’s desert camp

The sunrise we were blessed with at our bush camp, Bushmans desert camp, which was literally a random little patch of dirt in the middle of the desert would have to be one of my favourites, after the dune 45 sunrise we experienced the night before. Tired but buzzing, this camp provided the perfect view of a small watering hole which dozens of Orix made their appearance for a drink throughout the day and night. Despite being able to survive their whole lives without water, instead getting hydration from the ocean moisture in fruits and on leaves, it’s similar to us and alcohol, we can survive our lives without it, yet will of course never turn down an opportunity if one presents.

The owner, Boesman, took us in his 4x4 around his massive property after arriving 32 years ago and abruptly taking down the fence keeping the animals out. Now this desert property thrives, with 2 unusual rainfalls in the past 23 years boesman explained that it needs to stay dr way in order for the animals and vegetation to maintain. Fortunately the rotating breeze from the east and west each day keeps the clouds off the edge of the escarpment, and each animals strategically survive despite the unruely conditions, finding water in the most unusual of sources and planning mating accordingly. Orix hang in small groups, food is scarce and it’s easier to feed a small family rather than a large, ticks are smart about which tree to chill on waiting for its yearly visit from an Orix, whilst the vultures rotate their nests every 4 years so the ticks die and don’t kill their babies.

The history here is rich, evolving and heartbreaking, German farmers initially making a living here by killing animals for their fur, before animal rights groups intervened and the industry dried up. The then Dutch cattle farmers, payed off the indigenous owners with horses and rifles, which soon backfired when they started shooting them!!! After the first world war Germany lost Namibia and South Africa came into administration and whilst South Africa pushed politics and laws, Namibians longed for the care-free independent life they now get to live. Since Namibia gained independence from South Africa in 1990 it is now considered a tourism hotspot, working in this industry about the only option for jobs for young people, otherwise the odd salt mine or fishing harbour proving valuable exports too.

The bushman

Before the modern history, the bushman used to inhabit the land, this culture unique and incredible, the stories and photos extraordinary. Bushman, easily identifiable with their yellow coloured skin and large pregnant-like bellies, they blended in with the grass and ate 10kg’s of meat in a sitting, unsure when the next meal may come. The mothers job is just that, to mother, the first lesson of a child is that to recognise his mothers footprint, to never get lost in the vast Namibian desert. Their way of life very similar to our indigenous Australians, hunting and making decisions to survive, leaving behind children and grandparents that couldn’t keep up, and only killing male or older female animals, so that breeding could continue and babies survive to provide more food. They took what they needed and moved with the seasons and animals, only owning the cloth and baby on their backs. When firearms replaced spears in 1850 bushman’s started to disappear, it was easier to kill them, in the 1920’s you could freely hunt bushman until laws changed and only police could shoot. Like our indigenous Australians, the busman’s have been much bred out, with only 50,000 alive in Namibia today. Their bodies unable to adapt to modern life their health is poor and their children influenced by the modern education system frowned upon.

Nowadays, Hyenas are about the only nuisance the workers out here encounter, chewing through electrical and water pipes they are the only animal boesman will ever shoot. Hyenas will eat everything of an animal other than its skin, rolling it up as it chews through bone marrow and cartilage, the splinters it leaves behind providing food for vultures, bugs and Orix. Im excited to see my first one.

The beaches of Namibia

We’re now along the west coast of Africa, at Swakopmund, try say that 3 times fast! The second biggest city in Namibia, this coastal town and its neighbours are home to over 400,000 people. Tourism excites with thousands of accomodation and hotel options, although you walk along the sea front and it’s a ghost town, baffling. The free wifi a pleasure I had not missed like I thought, dipping in the ocean exciting after a week in the bush. Swakopmund has hints of German influence, after Luderitz came to Namibia and quickly got targeted by bushman. He called over his German government to protect and this is when they colonised, shops and hotels named and visually evident to this move over the seas. The few days relaxing here were needed, lots of steps and a run in, others kayaking and sand boarding to fill their time and boots up. We all but one headed to sandwich harbour, passing the bustling fishing harbour of Walvis bay and the thousands of flamingoes lining the shores of the bay and neighbouring pink salt lake and salt mine, reminding me much of my time up north in WA’s Pilbara. The tour took us 4 wheel driving along the abundant dunes, up and down huge crevasses, stomach dropping along with the car, seatbelts optional. Avoiding the tide and many local resident seal pups and lions, we enjoyed lunch on the dunes and headed back for one last dinner in civilisation before the real bush camping experience begins again. My first impressions of Swakopmund I’m glad to say were wrong, although it has 4 seasons in one day, even finding my jumper in the bottom of my bag to wear for the first time since arriving. It became the perfect place to reset… and I already miss the ocean, this adventure continuing as we spend another 7 days in this beautifully diverse and surprising country, heading off grid again until who knows when.

Where we stayed: