Namibia

At the end of the paved road there is a parking area from where some people continue with groups in safari vehicles. The last eight kilometers of the route is deep soft sand, but we manage to drive the distance by pushing the car’s off road capabilities. At various points we stop to enjoy the scenery, and I try to get close to a pair of oryx that of course do not wait to be approached.

Next comes 6 kilometers of hiking in deep sand, under an unbearable heat of over 38 degrees C and sunlight. 

The Deadvlei is a basin of white clay deposits, Its name means “dead marsh” (from the English dead, and the Afrikaans vlei-lake ) and surrounded by the highest sand dunes in the world,

It was formed after a flood of the Tsauchab River, which allowed trees to grow. When the climate changed, drought hit the area and the dunes blocked the river, so the trees died as there was no longer enough water to survive. There are few plant species left, adapted to survive, taking advantage of the dampness of morning mist and the infrequent rainfall. The skeletons of trees believed to have died 700 years ago, are now black from the hot sun and due to dry climate they don’t decompose. Namibia’s most monumental images, and some of the strangest on earth, make up this landscape. The day heat gives me the opportunity to enjoy the large area, almost empty. Few figures stand out, like an American girl of African origin who declares herself a travel influencer and struggles to wear a heavy and rather warm dress. Her guide is also struggling, trying to operate the camera. 

We adapt to the heat and drought and enjoy the area as much as we can. The skin burns from the sudden change, from the European winter to the African summer. I feel once again in my native element, I assimilate with the universe of sand and lifeless trees, I relive familiar moments of meditation, like a year ago in Mauritania . 

The road ahead is long, crossing the same sandy track, the short tarred and then the endless dirt road that follows. 

Walvis Bay is the second largest city in Namibia and is a safe harbor for ships plying the Cape of Good Hope circumnavigation. The waters rich in plankton and marine life also attract large numbers of whales, as well as whalers and fishing boats. The city is located just north of the Tropic of Capricorn.

Walvis Bay has beautiful upper-class villas along the Atlantic coast, but is of little interest to the visitor. Local pedestrians and cyclists stroll along the waterfront, while flamingos adorn the landscape in the shallow waters of the lagoon. The port’s cranes lay on the northern shore, while following a route to the south and the end of the “flamingo lagoon” we come across the salt flats. A little further down is the famous pink lake! Although the wind is strong and there is quite a bit of swell on this particular day, the sight is unreal. The color of the water is pink,  foam and salt deposits form on the coast. The color is said to be due to microorganisms releasing a reddish substance called beta-carotene as part of their photosynthesis process.

The road does not continue further south, the route to the famous Sandwich Harbor where giant sand dunes end at the ocean requires off-road navigation, Rental companies do not allow driving there as there is a risk of the vehicle being trapped and destroyed by high tide and sandstorms. Someone offers us guiding services with our own vehicle, but the offer besides being unreasonably expensive (N$ 3000/person) is unsafe for the integrity of the car. There are also organized tours, but they cost more than N$4400 per person (€240) and even though the place looks fantastic in photos, organized tours are not much our travel style. At the edge of the port some bars and restaurants create a spontaneous atmosphere where small groups of white and black people are dancing.

On Christmas Day the city has little activity, most shops are closed, some neighborhoods seem uninhabited. Colonial, colorful wooden buildings make up the unique image of Swakopmund, admittedly the most beautiful city in the country, despite not having many to compete with. The characteristic lighthouse of the city and the pier are some of the other points of interest. The city is generally attractive, but on this particular day there is not much to do.

There are some impressive sand dunes outside the city where camel rides or quad bikes are organized, but again these tourist activities do not appeal to us. We prefer to visit Mondesa township (slum). The presence of people is also sparse here, except for the ladies that go to church for the Christmas pilgrim. But all those we meet are returning us hearty smiles.

I would like to stay several days in the beautiful town of Swakopmund, but the holiday season with closed shops, the huge distances ahead and the uncertainty of the road conditions ahead, they direct us to move on.

The day continues northward, unaware of the road conditions or the destination we could reach till night. 

From the sanctuary’s parking lot, the sight of mothers trying to manipulate their young by roaring and violently transporting them using their teeth, is shocking. I cautiously approach some of the massive adult animals, up to a point beyond which they become aggressive. The smell is unbearable, not only because of the feces and urine but mainly because of the large number of dead newborns lying everywhere rotting. The causes are unknown even to scientists, including environmental contamination, bacterial infections or malnutrition.
This strange hell of souls captivates me, wherever my eye looks I see a moving mass of these creatures roaring and rolling clumsily on the sand and rocks.

The Ugab gate separates the northern from the southern part of the Skeleton Coast National Park. Huge whale bones and a skull with crossbones sign warn you of the inhospitable conditions ahead. The passage of our vehicle is recorded. Desert lions often appear at this point, on some website we saw the next days the lonely march of a lioness (with GPS tracker) to the coast where she was looking for seals to feed on.

The few sights along the route are made up of the remnants of human activity. A dilapidated oil rig that operated in the late 60s is rusting and being digested by the sand that wants to swallow it, creating a scene reminiscent of a dystopian future movie.

Τorra Bay

Torra Bay is 300km away from Swakopmund and the road ends a little further north. At Torra Bay there is only one tented camp and a petrol station. The icy waters of the Atlantic and the windswept shores do not make for an attractive beach holiday, visitors are only keen fishermen who arrive in December and January. A group of local men and women are singing on the beach drinking beers and welcome us enthusiastically. They are workers in Walvis Bay lodges who during their holiday season come for an extra day’s pay at the camp. There’s not much interest to remain much here, we are stressed to be drive inland on a road of condition we ignore. We also forget to fill the tank with diesel but we hope that the range of the car will be enough.

Several hours of complete wilderness follow, something we are used to by now. On the left side of the road is the wire fence referred to as the Red Line, which separates northern Namibia from its central and southern parts to exclude animal diseases. It was created in 1896 to control a plague epidemic in the German colony of South West Africa. South of the fence today there are farms owned by whites, while to the north the agricultural land is shared by black farmers. Animals from the northern region must be quarantined for 21 days to be sold in the south or exported, increasing production and marketing costs. Wild animals are not easily kept inside fences and often roam even on the road. 

We drive for hours without meeting anyone. The car speeds at 120 km/h on the dirt road and in some places makes low “flights”. The beep from the GPS tracker often warns of excessive speed. Some abandoned construction site container buildings and the Springbokwasser east gate of the national park are shown. After an hour the bored security guard appears to open the gate and suggest we buy fuel at a relatively inflated price. We decide to venture all the way to Palmwag, which is 550 kms away from our starting point in Swakopmund.

Desert prevails in Palmwag as well, there is no notable settlement except a fuel pump. Two half-naked Himba women are selling handmade dolls and bracelets. The gas seller gives us a handwritten receipt. The original plan was to spend the night here in an adjacent camp. There are also some luxury lodges in nearby places, which cater to another style of travelers. As we have covered this long distance quickly and still have 1-2 hours of daylight left, we continue on. 

A family of elephants is crossing the road! We stop beside them excitedly, but the male leader makes the characteristic warning movement with his ears. Without a second warning, the elephant starts stalking us. We start at full speed, he chases us, we stop to wait for him, we starts again and we’re laughing. It’s the second time happening to me, after that chase in Zimbabwe , which could have been fatal because I was on foot at the time.

A feast is going on in the countryside, with music, food and Herero women in their colorful costumes and strange triangular hats. They welcome us hospitably, we treat them to honey cookies and with their permission we take pictures together. 

We arrive at the first village of the Himba tribe at dusk. A young tribal girl in modern clothing asks us for money to allow visiting the camp. Paying for photos is a practice I do not support, neither makes any good in preserving the authenticity of traditional tribes. Instead we happily buy some of the handicrafts they sell.

Opuwo

We arrive in Opuwo late at night, having traveled 700 kilometers of dirt road in one day. Due to the bad road and high speed, the car has a problem, some strange sound is heard from the steering system. Fellow traveler A, who has some knowledge of mechanics, spots a center screw in the suspension whose nut has been cut and is about to come completely out of place. If it came out during the ride and at the speed we were going, the wheel would be unsupported and the car would be out of control, possibly causing a serious accident.

Some bystanders claim to be experts and intend to offer engineering services. The time is not suitable for such a thing, it is more important to find a place to spend the night. With a little effort we find the owner of two very basic rooms. Since there is no open restaurant, we try to dust the food and cook some noodles in the yard. 

With daylight, the city gets alive. The local tribes, most characteristically the Himba women, roam the city, creating a strange contrast between the modern and the primitive element. Topless Himba people roam freely on the streets and in local shops. Many women and children are hustling, others are asking for empty plastic bottles, a kid tries to wash the car and in general all this hassle makes confusion and prevents helping anyone. Car repair is a priority. A modern repair shop is closed due to holiday, but at the gas station where we fill up, the employee offers to leave his work and take us to some mechanics. Surprise, the engineers are the same people of last night! The repair takes a long time, 4 people struggle in the repair by dismantling the whole suspension, something unnecessary I think. They also overcharged us by N$950 (€52), an amount for which the owner is informed by phone so that he accepts.

I would like to stay in this city longer, to enjoy the interaction with the people, but the mistake of rush goes on.

Encounters with Himba members of all ages are frequent along the way and the food we have procured from the super market to offer them is becoming rapturous. Also, the dozens of cereal bars that we had “borrowed” for this purpose from the airport lounges, found recipients who appreciated them mostly.

Some local guides of Himba origin offer tours at the Himba villages and an introduction to their culture and customs. There is also the possibility of rafting on the river. One of them is particularly kind, he tells us about his activism as a long-distance runner for the protection of the environment. He tells that he has walked the entire Skeleton Coast, tells about his hometown called Marienfuss, a remote spot east of the river, for the three lions left there and the Namibian president who gave permission to hunt one of them. The independent mentality we travel with and the fact that we’d have to bring the guide back, makes us not choose his services, which this time I will regret. We decide to enjoy the tranquility and beauty of this place and explore the rest of area when leaving. At the campsite we also meet some Austrian overlanders who travel with a converted, old Mercedes truck which they sent by ship from Europe to South Africa. They are back from a two week tour of Marienfuss and in addition to sharing experiences, they supply us with a replacement part of the gas stove, because ours was worn out and caught fire! </span >

Staying in this little paradise is wonderful, I’d love to illegally swim across the river to Angola, besides I don’t see a crocodile, neither any border police or any other human presence. Instead, we put on swimsuits and go for a walk to the waterfall. The Himba women are happily smiling and proudly pose for photos. I promise to come back next day and buy some souvenirs they sell.

Epupa is a small but impressive waterfall with a height of about 37 meters, surrounded by towering rocks and lush vegetation. The sound of falling water and steam clouds make the experience magical. Its flow starts at the same level of the observation point and ends lower through a narrow gorge. On a precipitous edge of the rock, I admire the imposing power of nature with the water of Kunene precipitating. Some baobab trees are perched on the slopes of the gorge. Himba women wash babies in the small ponds that form near the river banks and some men fish. 

At night the stars twinkle behind the fronds of palm trees in this alternative exotic spot on earth, where Kunene’s sound lulls me on his way to the ocean.

Although we had decided to stay a few days in this beautiful spot, after another walk in the Himba village our travel frenzy makes us pack up and leave. We have marked another campsite further east on the river.

The D3700 is a dirt road about 170 kilometers long and connects Epupa Falls to the village of Ruacana and the waterfall of the same name there. It is a scenic road alongside the Kunene River that passes through some of the most remote parts of the country.

The road is rough and insurance does not cover rental vehicles, careful driving, 4WD and enough fuel for the trip is required. But it passes through beautiful landscapes along the river and through the most authentic Himba villages, which we make some visits to.

The few campsites we come across do not excite us and we finally end up back in civilization, to my great disappointment. I honestly wish we could do the arduous route again and go back. A little north of the unremarkable town of Ruacana, there is the border post between Namibia and Angola and the waterfall of the same name, which is one of the largest in Africa. A group of children lead us down a flight of stairs alongside a large concrete water channel to see the waterfall. Unfortunately the water is minimal at this time of year and does not present any remarkable spectacle. My pity is great, I wish we had several days, Angola visa, Namibian double visa and a car that is allowed to drive in the neighboring country to explore its southern region. I walk over to the Angolan guard who is enjoying his nap on a chair. He only speaks Portuguese, but I insist on asking him about the possibility of entry. Bored, he leaves to go ask. There is no soul, I feel like walking to Angola and leaving my fellow travelers back in the car. The guard comes back and tells me to come tomorrow. The Namibian border officer is more informative and tells me to look for the consulate in the town of Oshakati, 160 kilometers east and near another border crossing. Of course Angola will remain a dream for the time being, I hope to be able to get there in the future.

Outapi is a small town with a population of about 8,000 inhabitants where we stop for the night. It is a rural area, with crops such as corn, and also has a power plant. There are many baobab trees in the city, but the famous Ombalantu is 28 meters high, 27 meters in circumference and estimated to be 800 years old. The trunk of the tree has a door that leads to a room that can accommodate about 35 people. It has been a chapel, a post office, a house and a hiding place, while today the tree is a tourist attraction. The town hosts the annual Olufuko cultural festival, starring teenage girls preparing for adulthood. 

We arrive at the Halali camp at dusk and find comfortable camp space next to roofed facilities with a sink that protects cooking process from a short rainstorm. 

The waterhole located on the edge of the enclosure offers night and day visits of animals, mainly rhinos. At this particular season we know the animals are on the west side of the park so the next day we head there, exploring the savannah, the waterholes with the thirsty animals and the view of the vast salt lake of Etosha. 

We arrive again in the evening at the next campsite, Okaukuejo, which is the most equipped of all, with luxurious bungalows, a restaurant and a busy camping ground. It also has a gas station and a mini market. In our previous phone call we’ve been informed that there were no space available. Until we finish our dinner without stress, the reception is closed and anyway we have to look for free space by ourselves. A hungry jackal wanders between the vehicles looking for something to eat.

The Okaukuejo waterhole is crowded with animals, like the campsite is with visitors. It’s worth spending hours here, observing 24-hour giraffes, zebras, kudu, antelopes, hyenas and rhinos cooling off.

Even more crowded are some waterholes on the west side such as Nebrownii and Okondeka. A parade of the animal kingdom takes place here. Giraffes, antelopes and giant elephants claim some space to quench their thirst. 

Etosha elephants are among the largest in Africa, standing 4-5 meters tall. Adult males weigh up to 6 tons, while females are smaller. Their tusks are smaller than elephants in other parts of Africa due to a lack of minerals in their diet, but this is an advantage, as it makes them less likely to fall prey to poachers. They use to shower with the milky muddy waters of Etosha to protect their skin from the sun and this gives them a white, otherworldly appearance. White rhinos – not because of the mud but because of the species they belong to – are endangered but here they abound. At another point in the day, a lone lioness emerges to star in the eyes and camera lenses of people attending. The rest of animals keep a safe distance. The lioness doesn’t care about the water, she walks relaxed past the line of cars and continues till liyng down on the open plain. A male lion also appears and lies down too, some distance away. The driver of a safari tour vehicle blames us because we open the doors to take pictures, otherwise we are apt to start walking around. 

Among other things, we break the rules once more, almost by chance, moving on a road in the thickets, where we meet zebras, antelopes and giraffes.
Etosha left a great impression on us, because of its difference from other safaris and the abundance of animals. Unfortunately we were not lucky enough to meet a leopard, but whatever the case may be, the independent safari with our own driving does not compare as an experience to the organized ones, no matter how many animals one sees in them. After 3 days we leave and on the exit we don’t present the park ticket that we forgot to pay at a particular point. The employees collect the money without a receipt. 

After Etosha the rest of the days are relatively boring, with a lack of points of interest. The idea of visiting the Caprivi strip with the Zambezi river wetlands at the northeastern tip of the country is not a plan we follow. The distance just to get there exceeds 900 kilometers. After all, we have had enough of seeing wild animals.

I have located a Himba village on the map that is strangely located this far south. We decide to take another dirt road there, with the intention of camping in their village. Finally we see a gate and an empty camp before the village. The guard phones with the boss but it is not possible for us to stay within the village. We will have to pay N$350 per person to visit it but spend the night outside, at the camp. I am wary and ask to check around the village, only to see some bored, overfed Himba women, a sign of tourism and the alteration of their authentic way of life. To my great surprise, the security guard tells me that the visit lasts about 20′, then we have to leave because they are waiting for another group. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but any contact with the Himba south of Opuwo is a complete tourist trap. The same thing happens in another remote place where there is a Herero village. The guard of the field with the two or three well-maintained huts wants to sell us ticket. We ask how many members the village has and he answers us… one! He had dressed his wife in costume expecting tourist victims.

The landscape to the south changes sharply. We leave the arid landscapes and the low vegetation with the cultivated areas makes its appearance. Togetherthe climate also changes, the rainy season recalls its presence even sporadically.

Otjiwarongo

Otjiwarongo is a town of 28,000 in north-central Namibia, a commercial hub and a station on the TransNamib Railway. It is a city with a large German-speaking population and one of the most developed in Namibia, due to the rare earth deposits in the area. It has modern facilities such as supermarkets, banks, shops and hotels. In this city we return to the experience of urban Africa, with excellent restaurants and entertainment bars to enjoy. 

Around the city there are several private parks with leopards, cheetahs and other animals, which as we will learn only accept guests with accommodation, at exorbitant prices. In Namibia there are unfortunately also many private parks where some unwitting hunters can legally, by paying a fee, kill rare game animals such as rhinos, leopards, cheetahs and others. < /span>a simple internet search showed me the gruesome images and information.

Waterberg Plateau Park is a national park 68 kilometers southeast of Otjiwarongo. The Waterberg Plateau is a special location with a trapezoidal mountain rising high above the Kalahari plains. We decide that we are not interested in seeing a mountain and continue towards the capital with some intermediate stops.

My personal travel desire is always contact with vulnerable social groups and a visit to the Katutura slum could not be omitted.

Katutura was founded during the apartheid era, when the South African government enforced racial segregation and forced black people to live in designated areas outside the city. Today, Katutura is known for its vibrant community, but also for the problems associated with poverty and unemployment.

Those visiting such a place should be respectful and cautious. The reception we have, especially in the open meat market and vegetable market which is open on New Year’s Day, is particularly friendly. Also, the food that was left was offered to homeless and vulnerable social groups, giving them joy during these festive days.