We left our bungalows today to head towards another bushcamp = ( I’m also on cook group duty today so that would have potentially meant double = ( However, our 2nd cook, Jackson, Charles’ brother, joined us in Swakopmund. When I reported for duty bright and early, Jackson told me, ‘No worries, grab yourself a cup of tea and I’ll call you when I need ya. ’
After packing up, we headed over to the city center to pick up some last minute grocery essentials. I also bought Andrew a 2nd year anniversary gift: a nice plush red suede (machine washable) pillow that was on the super clearance rack. I buy myself a matching one as well.
Freezers and coolers stocked full again w/ junk food, processed meat and liquor, we next headed to the Skeleton Coast to the Seal Colony. As the name implies, the colony is home to thousands of howling, screeching seals and the jackals that try to eat them. Cute as the imagery that a colony of seals may conjure up, this place was anything but. The noise of a thousand seals screeching thunderously was headache inspiring and the smell of carcass & feces were nauseating. To take my obligatory tourist pic however, I braved the putrid stench, jumped out of Helena onto the gangplank and then jumped back in the truck w/n 3 minutes flat to join Joy in closing all the open windows and then shrieked at whomever ran back in to shut the door. Ten minutes later everyone was gagging to go but couldn’t b/c Tim & Sue, whose olfactory senses were long since numbed after 20 years of raising the twins (Peter & John), wanted to properly explore the area.
Back on the road again, Emily then got stopped by a policeman for speeding. As speeding tickets aren’t reimbursed to crew, and all of us come from countries where bribery is illegal, we watched and listened in eagerly to the wheels of money illegally changing hands. Unfortunately nothing of the sort happened. The guy just happened to recognize the Drago bus and pulled us over as Drago crew are good sports about conversing re: darts, the policeman’s favorite pastime.
Next up after that, was a rather modern ship that had run aground on the coast. Thinking it to be an interesting enough detour, Matt took the bus off the road and onto the sand. Several minutes of what turned out to be a not very interesting photo op afterall, we loaded onto Helena again. Matt backed up, kicked up a lot of sand in the air and *voila* we’re stuck in the sand. We all moan off the bus and split into two groups: the nice, helpful, industrious group who folded up their sleeves, got some shovels and helped w/ the sand guards; and the nice, lazy, spectators who looked on and yelled encouragements (Sammy and I were in a subset of the 2nd group: the ones who weren’t gonna get dirty b/c we were bushcamping that night *hello*)
We arrived at Spitzkopff, the Matterhorn of Namibia, w/ just enough time to scramble up the rocks to take pictures during the golden hour. The views of the bald granite peaks that stood out dramatically from the flat surroundings were breathtaking.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sept. 4 / Day 8: Swakopmund to Spitzkopff
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sept. 3/Day 7: Swakopmund
It’s our 2 year anniversary today = )
As a gift, Drew did stand-up sandboarding w/ me. The novelty of boarding down however was replaced by the awfulness of climbing back up the dunes wearing boarding shoes whilst carrying your board in the 80 degree heat. So, we stopped boarding after the 4th time and tried our hand at lie-down sandboarding. Drew went first and the speed gun clocked him at 68 kmph. I went after and my tumble (check my facebook) clocked in at 70 kmph. Never one to back down, I went again a 2nd time after Jazz the dog looked at me, barked at me and then proceeded to run down the dune. Seeing as Jazz obviously had a fun time going down the slope, I did the same thing and had a perfectly great 2nd run w/out any tumbles = )
After this am adventure, we went to the other side of the road to try our hand at quad biking. While there, we saw signed pics of Brangelina on the wall. As it turns out, Angelina gave birth to Shiloh here in Swakopmund. With this bit of info, I expect everyone to now know the answer to the trivia question: in what country is Swakopmund in? A: Namibia!
Quad biking was just a-m-a-z-i-n-g and a tad scary at the same time. There are these moves called roller coasters and what you do is go up the side of a dune and do a sharp 180 to go back down. When you make the turn, it feels like you’ll fall off first to the side, then forward as you change your bikes course. Every couple of adrenalin runs, we would stop and take a look at the area’s resident chameleons whose colors would change from vibrant multi-colored hues to bland sandy hues as it would camouflage itself during the group ‘show and tell’. We also stopped for picture taking and it was surreal to have this vast expanse of nothingness spread before you from all angles.
Sept 2/Day 6: Mirabib - Swakopmund
We headed towards Swakopmund today where we would be sleeping in A-style German framed bungalows. Right next door to the bungalows was laundry service **Walking on air, can things get any better??!!**
Today was a chillaxed day. The only thing mildly stressful was figuring out which activities Drew and I should sign up for the following day: Sandboarding? Quadbiking? Paragliding? Township tours?
Once that decision was made, it was time for a night out in town and we all headed to a restaurant. The only thing was, with everyone having made proper use of their private bathroom at the bungalows, it was difficult to recognize anyone. Everyone smelled good and looked clean and pretty – the ladies wore make-up and jewelry, the guys all wore clean clothes and smelled of aftershave.
September 1/Day 5: Sesriem to Mirabib Bushcamp
Today, we woke at 4:30 to catch the sunrise at Dune 45. Though a long, difficult, trek to the sandy top, the views were absolutely rewarding. As the sun continued its ascent, the khaki ocean went from a dull blackish brown to magnificent shades of red as the dunes sparkled, illuminated by the sun’s rays.
After the sunrise, Richard and I raced down the dune together. The poor guy was in need of a good laugh as one of his sandals got stolen by a jackal at the camp we stayed at last night. Several miles away from Dune 45 was our next destination, Sousevlei National Park, where we had the most amazing, most entertaining, most informative simply the B-E-S-T-E-S-T guide ever: Frans. We learned a lot from Frans like how the dunes don’t move because at their base are tree roots that keep them in place. Using a magnet, Frans also demonstrated that the black sand corrupting the vibrant red color of the dunes was iron. We also walked to a petrified dead forest where we tried our hand at being Ansel Adams by trying to capture the eerie beauty of trees defeated by their harsh waterless environment
Frans also found for us all sorts of bugs, lizards and spiders that were hiding in the sand to escape the strong heat of the sun. He also taught us how to catch lizards so that if any of us were voted off the bus to stay in the desert, we would have an instant source of food and water. In addition to the fact that there are plenty of lizards in the dessert, Frans also stressed that out of all the sand crawlers, lizards easily beat ants and spiders in the raw taste department!
After the hike, we settled down in the cool shade of a tree to learn about Frans culture. Frans, like the titular character in the fantastic ‘The Gods Must be Crazy’ movie, is a Bushman. For the benefit of all the (still) single guys in the group, Frans explained the winning Bushman way of marrying a woman. First, he had to go in the desert to hunt for an Oryx, a large male antelope with 2 long, straight vertical horns. Once the deed was done, he had to cut the Oryx’s tail as proof and bring this to the father and mother. The father and other male relatives would then go to the Oryx to inspect the animal to check if 1) he hunted on his own and 2) if the Oryx was strong, powerful, young. If all was well, the whole village would celebrate, the oryx would be prepared and eaten, and the man and woman would marry and live happily ever after. If there were 2 men competing for the same woman, the two would first perform a special dance and then go out and capture an oryx. Whoever caught an oryx first would take the woman and then live happily like in the movies. To ensure this joyous union would last, Frans also doled out the Bushman’s key to happiness to us married females (myself and 60 y/o Sue). This advice was to stay sweet, keep smiling, and keep the talking to a minimum. We all share a hearty laugh at the novelty of the idea.
Next up on the one man F show was “How to catch your lover cheating.” First, Frans directed our attention to his bare feet and the sandy landscape. Now, if a man suspects his wife is being unfaithful, he can easily catch her by tracing her footsteps. Bushman, you see, are feet signature experts and they can easily distinguish their father’s, mother’s, wife’s, son’s, daughter’s, uncle’s, auntie’s (get the picture) footprints in the sand. They can even identify if a person is young or old based on the distance between steps and the depth of the imprint on the sand.
The best part about this tour however, was hearing Frans speak in his native language: the 4 click clicking (as opposed to the 7 click which Frans doesn’t understand whatsoever). It was crazy how they use clicks in between sounds to communicate. Afterwards, everyone tried to call everyone in 4 click (albeit incorrectly) and all you could hear on the bus was *click click click E click click click click VETTE* and so forth.
After the tour, we were back on the road to our next camp, Big Rock bushcamp in Mirabib. For the uninitiated, bush camping = no running water so no toilets & no showers. For the Aussies, English & Irish in the group, bush camping = no bar. And so before we got to camp, we made an emergency pit stop at a grocery store to stock up on a couple of essentials like the following: 12 6-packs, 1 Amarula, 1 Vodka, 4 5-litre wine casks and the odd single bottle of wine for the non-drinkers. Did I mention the bushcamp was just for one night??? Lol.
Camp that night was absolutely gorgeous. We were out in the middle of nowhere with nary a person in sight. For dinner, we all huddled around the fire underneath a massive slab of rock overhang. For storytelling, we listened to Matt talk about the glory days of overlanding in Africa. Like how in the late 80s, they used to camp right by the Ebola River or how a whole group once ended up in a Zimbabwean jail in the 90s because one of the guys took a picture of Mugabe’s front gate. Now, except for the bribery, everything is tameish. Take our bushcamp for example, p-e-r-f-e-c-t-l-y safe. In the old days, there were few and far campsites in between and camping at bushcamps were done out of necessity, not novelty. These camps were not always safe. For example, Matt has been w/ groups where drunk locals shot poisoned arrows at the group for fun. Most of the time, the locals’ drunkenness meant the arrows always missed. Once however, the result was deadly as an arrow landed on a guy’s leg. The group ended up traveling w/ a corpse (and a lot of ice) for 3 days (they sent his ashes home *so sad*). Drunken locals w/ poisoned arrows aside, even mosquitoes are no match for today’s (properly taken) anti-malarial tablets. In the early 90s, someone always came down w/ malaria and half of the African experience was the ‘will I get it?’ anxiety + the ‘we gotta hustle to the hospital before someone dies’ clamor.
August 31/Day 4: Fish River Canyon to Sesriem
We drove north through the Namibian desert towards Sesriem today. An interesting tidbit was that to our west lay the vast Namibian diamond mines owned by De Beers. It was crazy to think that for 10 straight hours, just 50 miles west of us were security guards armed w/ current AK 47 bullets guarding an area teeming with my best friends: diamonds = )
Anyways, the long drive day meant another day of card games. This day belonged to the Aussies however as Scott, the 40 y.o. fun loving beer guy from Down Under, taught us how to play Yuka 500. It was nice having something new to play but as the game had a lot of variables, the other Aussies kept quipping about the version that they knew and played, complicating things just a bit. Or was the confusion because of the constant beer o’clock hour? Hmmm.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
August 30/Day 3: Orange River to Fish River Canyon
This morning, the group split in two as half took a canoe ride on the Orange River while the other half lazed about the campground. We were in the latter group and Emily taught me how to keep accounts. It was pretty easy. Basically, every dollar spent needs to be tracked. This includes: groceries, camp site expenses, tour expenses, etc. Not a bad job for someone who already tracks money on a daily basis. And considering I’m an excel pro, I promptly created a worksheet that did all the calculations from giving me daily running balances to calculating foreign exchange rates for the S. African Rand, Namibian Dollar, Botswana Kwacha and Zambian Kwacha. Because I’m a nerd, the worksheet also broke down expenses by category: accommodation, food, tours, etc.
Once the group came back, we headed towards Fish River Canyon. The drive today was blissfully quiet as 90% of the group was recovering from yesterday’s hangover. With everyone sleeping, the miles of empty road stretched further than usual, the only distraction coming from the huge nests of the weaver birds. Camp today was out in the dusty dirty desert amongst baboons. For those washing clothes, those baboons meant being creative with knots on the clothesline. It was at this time, while talking to Stephanie who was doing some washing that I found out that Dragoman actually imposed an 18kg weight limit. As Stephanie, an Australian 60+ female, was overlanding through Africa through 2010, she decided to bring a lot less and clocked in at 15kg! Amazing! Good thing the crew didn’t enforce that rule on us as each of our bags weighed 24kg+.
Given that bags came out every night and got put back in the following morning, we did spare the back locker people by just using our 3rd smallish luggage. Well, that and another plastic bag that held our sleeping bags and sleeping mats. Speaking of sleeping mats btw, I discovered that the secret to a good night’s rest is having 3 sleeping mats. Even w/ grass coverage, I had a sleepless 1st night using just my personal mat and my Drago one. However on the 2nd night, I spied an extra mat and quickly and stealthily threw that under the tent on top of my 1st mat. Let me tell you, that extra inch of foam padding made all the difference.
Anyways, while I was chatting with Steph, Drew was with another group by the pool area. Like all outdoor pools in the winter, the water in this one was bone chilling. Nevertheless, whether it was last night’s drinks still talking, the thick layer of dirt on skin after a long day of driving through the desert, or just plain wackiness, the hung overed decided to jump in the water. I heard their screams from afar and taunting them with my tea a little later, saw the effects of the cold on their purple lips.
Later that day, we drove a short distance to Fish River Canyon, one of the deepest canyons in the world. As the sun crept downwards, we sat in silence admiring the magnificent, desolate beauty of the epic contours of the canyon.
August 29/Day 2: Citrusdal to Noordewer/Orange River
We also crossed into Namibia today and passed through the worst customs official. The guy was an absolute jerk and made rude comments and off color remarks to everyone. It took our group an hour to pass through and that’s not including the time we had already spent exiting out of S. Africa.
We had another nice campground today. Actually, this campground is my favorite out of all the campgrounds. There was grass everywhere, the bathrooms were spacious, the bar was nice and the dining area was also great. That night, Andrew tried to teach Richard, Paul and the English family how to take pictures in the dark w/out using flash.
After that lesson, Drew & I went to bed but the majority of the group had a bonding experience over Jaeger Bombs in the Camp Bar. Actually, I should write that the Arsenal fans had to drown their sorrows while the Man U fans drank their happiness as Man U won a controversial 1-0 game. To repeat the endless conversations, “Offside, what do you mean offside? What the heck does that stupid referee know about offside from that angle?”
