Out of our seven-month journey around the world, Namibia delivered some of the most scenic landscapes and mind-blowing experiences of all. Called the "Land of Contrasts" in the many coffee table books of the country, the Northern neighbor of South Africa boasts the world's highest sand dunes, one of the least populated countries on earth (with only 1.7 million people), some of the best game viewing in Africa and possibly the funnest single activity we have ever done.
We arrived at Windhoek airport with little more than a hangover and no idea of what we would do in the country. After a long nap, we decided to rent a car (whose air conditioning went out the first day) and camping gear, and set off on our first adventure.
With two or three exceptions, the roads of Namibia are all dirt. Because they are well maintained, it is possible to drive 70-80 mph and with a little luck, the worst that you'll get is a flat tire or two (we got one). We were cautioned to always have extra water, a spare tire or two, a cell phone, GPS, flares, emergency rations, another car in the convoy and extra gas. At least we had a spare.
Some of the places in the North of the country are so remote, they are designated on the map not by a road name but by latitude and longitude. We heard of a Dutch couple that was recently found decomposing in their Land Rover after apparently running out of gas while off-roading. That and meeting the American family who trashed their rental car when they hit a donkey were enough to keep us on the road (not much off-roading you can do in a VW Golf anyway) and on our toes at all times.
LAND OF MAGICAL DUNES AND SEARING SANDS
If you've ever seen a photo from Namibia, chances are it was taken at the dunes of Sossusvlei. This seemingly endless sea of sand mountains is a photographer's dream, especially when explored at sunrise. We rose from our campsite at 4:30 am and began our expedition toward these ancient and majestic dunes.
20 million years ago, the creation of Sossusvlei began when the winds of the South Atlantic drove mountains of sand inland and created the masterpieces at which we now gawked. The drifting sands sealed off Rivers and lakes that ran into the ocean, creating canyons and dried riverbeds that looked like scenes from a desert science fiction movie. With nothing around us but sand, the silence was deafening. Only in the absence of any sound - no animals, leaves rustling, phones, planes or cars - did we realize how rare it is to be without.
As the sun rose, we witnessed a show of light, shade, colors and contrasts that sent us into a photographing frenzy. When the reds from the dawn light began to fade and our fingers grew tired, we climbed up the biggest dune we could find to get a view from the top. To lighten our load and feel the sand between our toes, we decided to leave our shoes and extra water bottle at the bottom. Good thinking.
Up we climbed, over 1,000 feet to the top of the first dune. From there we could see another, taller dune beckoning nearby and so we pressed on, sweating our way to the top.
After a picnic lunch and breathtaking views on top, we began our long walk back. It was now late in the morning and the African sun was turning the sand into a griddle set on high, and our tender feet were cooking like pieces of french toast. It got so bad that we could only run a few steps before throwing a shirt on the ground to stand on and recover. It was one of those casual walks that turned into a very unpleasant and possibly dangerous situation, as our feet sizzled and our meager water supply dwindled.
The solution was to walk on the steep, shady side of the crest of the dunes. Walking in deep sand at the top of dunes is exhausting, and we had to stop often to recover.
I reached the bottom first, my throat as dry as the dunes we were traversing and quickly guzzled down my half of the remaining water. Alexandra arrived, sporting a much better attitude than her husband and took her spot under the thorn bush. She picked up the bottle to drink but stopped short when she saw the colony of ants swimming around the inside of the water bottle. I tried not to think about how many ants were now swimming around my stomach.
IS THIS LEGAL? THIS CAN'T BE LEGAL!
We did a lot of fun activities in the last seven months, but none of them compared to quad biking in the German seaside town of Swakopmund. Quad bikes are the four wheel all terrain vehicles one often sees on farms or vineyards or the back of trailers on the highway. The ones that have a reputation for flipping over.
Our guide George brought out our 250 cc bikes for our pre-ride briefing in his halting English.
"Here is the gas, here are the brakes. You ready?"
With that, we were off, charging into a sea of dunes that stretched into infinity. We were a bit tentative at first, getting to know our powerful steeds. Soon enough, with the prompting and daredevil antics of George, we were speeding down near-vertical slopes, doing donuts, narrowly avoiding perilous holes and making fresh tracks in the world's most beautiful dunes. The smiles were plastered on our faces like kids at the beach.
At one point I tried to bank a turn a few degrees too tight, and before I knew it, I was flying headfirst into the sand, hoping my bike wasn't right behind me. I stood there in a daze wiping sand out of my eyes, ears and nose, as my bike lay upside down a few feet away with the wheels still in rotation.
The trip ended in typical reckless African fashion: with a beer in hand watching the sun set into the Atlantic and a perilous drive back in the dark. Next visit to Namibia, we're doing a week-long quad bike trip to anywhere. It doesn't matter - as long as we're quad biking.
SLEEPING WITH LIONS
In our continual quest to get even closer to nature, we decided to spend the night in a rustic tree house located in the middle of a 32,000-acre private game reserve called Hobatere. After an afternoon game drive while en route to our accommodation, the ranger dropped us off at our isolated tree house. Having heard the stories of the honeymoon couple that saw a lion kill and drag a zebra under the house, while others had an elephant scratch its back on the tree beneath them for the entire night, we knew we were in for a treat.
Perched high in a sacred Leadwood tree in front of a watering hole, the simple tree house was completely isolated from everything. The lodge provided us with a picnic basket full of bottled water, drinks, meals and snacks, as well as lanterns, mosquito nets and a tiny portable potty more suitable for potty training toddlers.
As the ranger left us in our extremely simple lodging (no communication, electricity, running water), he gave us one bit of firm advice: "Whatever you do, do NOT come down from the tree house until we return tomorrow." With that, he left us and the animals for the most magical night of our trip.
As the heat abated with the setting sun, the animals came out to eat and drink. A parade of kudu, springbok, jackals and zebra put on a show for us. Being so cut off from "civilization" (even in an emergency, we couldn't have contacted anyone) and surrounded by animals gave us a sense of freedom and connectedness neither of us had experienced before.
When the food and wine were all gone, and we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer, we drifted off to sleep. Not deep sleep, however, as the herds of zebra made an incessant racket and the “house” swayed and creaked when the wind came up. This, combined with the thoughts of leopards climbing into our tree or elephants pulling the house down made for a rather fitful night.
We woke at 6 am to the unmistakable sound of a male lion roaring VERY close to the house. As quietly as possible, we crept out onto the deck to see him lying in the sand LESS THAN 100 FEET FROM WHERE WE WERE! That and the fresh elephant tracks all around us told us it wouldn't have been such a good idea after all to go for that evening stroll we had discussed.
Long before we were ready, the Land Rover came to pick us up, happy to find us in one piece and eager to hear our tales from the tree house.
ETOSHA
With three days left to our African Adventure, we thought we would swing through Etosha National Park for one more look at the animals. So many people had told us about the abundant game there and all the lions and leopards they had seen, we thought we would treat ourselves to a few days of cat viewing.
The 23,000 km sq park is mostly vast stretches of barren plains. The reason the viewing is so good during the dry season is because the animals tend to congregate around the limited drinking holes, giving the viewers rare sightings of large groups of animals at the same time. The three campgrounds in the park each have man made water holes that are illuminated at night. This meant that after we set up camp, we could grab a bottle of wine, sit down and watch the show. It felt like watching a slow, boring play with a few very talented, thirsty actors.
Having a "successful" safari is mostly good luck. We were treated to one watering hole that had 35 elephants. Another had 15 giraffes, three of them drinking simultaneously in what must be the most vulnerable position in the animal kingdom.
The cats, however, did not materialize for us. We kept talking to people who had just seen two leopards cross the road or just saw a lion kill right in front of them. The closest we got to cats, aside from the leopard Alexandra saw at the drinking hole that I had just left to get beers from the car, was hearing them roar at night. This we heard seven nights in a row in Namibia, a far cry from the rap music and sideshows of our long-ago apartment in Oakland.
The tide had turned on us, however, and the impending end to our trip and return to Real Life set in like a cold front on a hot summer day. Our moods turned grumpy and we complained about the most ridiculous things, knowing full well what was really eating at us.
On our final night, we sat around the fire barbecuing our last dinner and polishing off our last bottle of South African Sauvignon Blanc. We drank to the immense good fortune we had been given to take seven months of our lives to experience the world and recounted some of our most memorable events of each country. We drank to my father who had died exactly three years ago that night who must have been grinning somewhere watching our adventures. And we drank to our return home to our good friends' wedding, all the other dear friends and family members we had missed so much and to the adventures that awaited us back in the US.
