Mary and Colin's Great Adventure

Before I begin the blog I'd like to change what I said about the Germans bringing the sausage roll to Namibia. A few nights ago I recalled all the many delicious sausage rolls we had with Skanky in East Africa and it dawned on me that the sausage rolls in Namibia were most likely an Afrikan influence. After traveling extensively with Skanky, our resident Afrikanner, I can say with certainty that this is a culture that values a good piece of meat. Alright - we are free to move on....

I believe we last left off in the German oasis of Swokomund, Namibia. Our adrenaline fully pumping and the bags packed back into the car we headed off for our next destination: Sossusvlei National Park. This is home to the images of Namibia that you may be most familiar with after your extensive Google search of this fascinating country. Enormous coppery red sand dunes melting into jagged rocky hills, salt pans peppered with dead trees, endless rolling mounds of ever-changing desert landscape. Most visitors come for two reasons: to hike Dune 45 and to take in the stunning Sossusvlei. Both of these activities were on the agenda and we were anxious to see what the area had in store.

Free from camping for one more night, we rolled into our accommodations at Desert Camp - individual "tents" in the middle of the desert - and enjoyed a rare couple hours of just chilling out. To be clear, the "tents" at Desert Camp were more like individual chalets. They were about as nice as you can get in the middle of the Namibian desert...or so we thought. The plan was to head to Dune 45 for a sunset hike about an hour or so before sunset.

Dune 45 for you non-Google fans is the only major sand dune you are aloud to hike up in the Park. Its very trendy to climb up at sunset or sundown in order to see the dune's sand go from brown to copper to a brilliant red. Its also quite practical to hike at this time as the dune is located in the desert and you stand a solid chance of burning your feet on the sand or getting a nasty burn if you hike up in the middle of the day. You fans of the Indiana Dunes know exactly what we mean.

Here's something I didn't know about myself: I'm deathly afraid of climbing up extremely steep sand dunes. Who knew? I was all smiles and "lets go gang" when we set out but literally 10 minutes into the hike I was frozen on that hot dune like a dik-dik in headlights. To be fair, it was EXTREMELY windy that day and the strong wind coupled with the pelting sand was enough to give anyone pause. I suppose that's how it got to be a dune in the first place but I wasn't that keen on the whole wind thing. And it just looked so steep! Sure there were 4 year olds running down the side of his "steep dune" but it was still darn scary to me. Col ended up coming back down the dune to coax me down the side and out of harms way. A real desert hero that guy. Fortunately the scare on the dune did not take away from the breathtaking scenery and I was able to enjoy Dune 45 for it's natural beauty. Bravo to the rest of our group who made it to the top without fail and thank you to them for not rubbing it in my face.

That night we were treated to dinner at what is officially the nicest place to stay in the area the Sossusvlei Lodge. They have this fab game meat buffet and Col and I rounded off the gastronomic part of our journey with a couple fillets of impala, hartebeast, kudu and the best of the bunch: zebra. Who would have thought zebra would taste so good? The real disappointment was the Nile Croc tail. Ugh. Like dry fish with a hint of chicken. If you come across it give it the wave on. Not worth the calories.

The plan for the next day was to get up early and make our way to Sossusvlei, an area in the park that is known for it's salt pan, dunes and dead trees. After killing 45 minutes there we would head out to our next destination - Aus. Aus is known for being the halfway point between Sossusvlei and Fish River Canyon and for its great camping and proximity to the only herd of feral desert horses in Namibia. Delightful! Before we did that, however, we tried desperately to book a morning safari walk with this guy Bushman who is known in the area for his fantastic desert wildlife tours. We called and called and eventually cursed and cursed Bushman because he never called us back. We had been looking forward to this desert tour so it was a major disappointment when he didn't call us back. Darn that guy! Oh well...we could just make up our own useless facts about the desert. "Did you know dunes are caused by unicorns? Yes! Their wings cause the sand to fly into the air..."

Arriving in Sossusvlei I immediately noticed that the best way to appreciate the surroundings was to, you guessed it, climb a dune and survey the area. Bummer. Determined to redeem my poor showing on Dune 45, I followed my trusty partner in crime up the Sossusvlei dunes. Well, look at me! There I was making a total mockery of that dune. I was practically skipping up the darn thing! I suppose I owe this surge of confidence to the fact the dune was a lot flatter and there was absolutely no wind to contend with but I like to think of it more as a triumph of spirit. And to the victor went the spoils of some fantastic views of the pan and the surrounding dunes. Really a magnificent place. Even Alex who has traveled to some of the worlds most wondrous spots had to admit that he had never seen any place like it. Well done, Sossusvlei!

Alex, Col and I spent a little more than the allotted time hanging out in the dunes so by the time we got back to the cars only one was waiting for us. The girls (Jo and Lee) had left with James to do a few chores and we were to go back in Annie's car and meet them for a fill up at the petrol station. You may be saying "that's a lot more specific then you've been in the past about your travel plans from point A to B." Yes, that's true but its relevant here because this never happened. We never drove out of the park. When we got to the car it wouldn't start. Dead as the trees in the park. Yikes. A double yikes because we had stayed a little later goofing around in the dunes and didn't notice that all the smart tourists had headed out of the desert before it got blazing hot. Oops. Fortunately there was one car left - a safari vehicle taking 2 Germans on a private tour. After officially proclaiming our car dead the driver offered us a ride back to the gate. You may think this is an extremely lucky turn of events and you'd be absolutely correct. The park entrance was a good 40 minutes by car and the only way to get there was to walk. Some of you may not have noticed but Col and I aren't really "desert people." We would have lasted tops 30 minutes on foot...especially because we only had about 1/2 a liter of water and a few chocolate cookies to sustain us. And really, chocolate cookies aren't made for the desert either.

The real bummer of the breakdown was that the car required a new part not just some simple garage maintenance. Those of you who may have traveled through Namibia are fully aware that there are little, if any Toyota parts distributors in a 300 mile radius of anywhere. We thought we were screwed...until a strange twist of fate came our way. It turns out that the Toyota dealership in Windhoek (the capital city) had one starter motor available for our car. Guess who was in Windhoek and willing to drive the part out that very night? The very man we were cursing not 12 hours beforehand - Bushman! Apparently he hadn't answered our calls because he was away getting his cars fixed. Coincidence? I don't think so. God love that guy.

We were "forced" to stay at the swank Sossusvlei lodge that night and dine yet again on their delicious buffet of game meat while the car was fixed (Editors note: anyone who thought we might come back from Africa down a few lbs will be sorely disappointed). Although it was a super huge bummer that we had to miss out on Aus and spend the entire next day (Lee's last) driving from Sossusvlei to Fish River Canyon it was just as much of a relief that the car broke down where it did vs. out in the bush. I shudder to think.

The next day we headed out for the 9 hour drive to Fish River Canyon. Fish River Canyon is second only to the Grand Canyon in size. The goal was to get there in time to view the canyon at sunset. Of course we would have enjoyed a hike down into the canyon but this is no longer an option unless you take a 2-5 day guided hike. Apparently some French guys went down there without enough water and didn't make it out thus ruining the fun for everyone. French guys (editor shakes her head). It was really important for us to get there on time because Lee had actually extended her stay just to see Fish River Canyon. After all of her spills and thrills on the sand dunes at Swokomund the least we could do was see the darn canyon as the sun went down.

Yeah. Didn't happen. The curse of the oryx horn strikes again everyone. The first sign was the late departure. Apparently the mechanic was supposed to get up at 6 to start on the car. I guess 6 to us meant 8 to him. Ouch. We were supposed to leave at 8 but made it out of there at 10. The ole Sossusvlei Lodge starts to lose a bit of its sheen when you are just sitting in the lobby waiting for 2 hours. Once the car rolled in we eagerly popped in the cars and headed out. About 5 hours into the drive one of the tires on Annie's car blew and blew in a way that would lead you to believe it had something personal against us. 45 minutes, one spare tire and a cranky James later and we were back on the road...for about an hour. That's when Annie radioed us to say that she felt the spare we put on was feeling a bit funky. Good instinct Annie. The tire we had just put on had developed a strange case of boils in the short time it had been carrying our load. The thing looked like someone had blown massive bubbles in several locations on the tire. Another 45 minutes for a change...only to realize the next spare was flat. Another 20 minutes to change that one and we were off again. By now the sun was quickly making its way towards the horizon and we were all making our apologies to Lee. Needless to say we arrived at Fish River Canyon in the dark and the thing could have been 10X the size of the Grand Canyon and we'd never know. James, exhausted by the driving and the tire changing decided to screw camping and booked us all into this little mountain self-catering place (a small bonus). We toasted to Lee that night over hastily made spaghetti and meat sauce and joked that certainly the oryx curse was over once and for all.

The next day we woke at 5 and motored to the canyon to see the sunrise. It was, well, a large canyon but quite beautiful in the morning light. I think these are places that are best appreciated with a hike but hey, nothing you can do (editor shakes head at French again). We said our goodbyes to Lee and Annie as the road off into the sunset to the Windhoek Airport. James, Colin, Alex, Jo and I piled into the car for yet another long day on the road. Fingers crossed that the oryx wouldn't have our way with us we began the journey to South Africa. Can curses cross borders? I guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out....

Mary mentioned in her last entry how quickly the Namibian landscape has changed as we've gone from north to south and traveled through the Kaokoland region. I dare say that after a week or so we kind of got used to it. But then we entered the city of Swakopmund (which I refuse to call "Swako" no matter how many other travelers do) on the coast of Namibia. We've jokingly been referring to Swakopmund as "the Emerald City" because it's been the light at the end of the tunnel following our bush camping adventures. But I think encountering the great Oz at the Emerald City would have actually been less of a culture shock than the actual Swakopmund. Honestly, if you closed your eyes and were dropped in the middle of Swakopmund, Africa is the LAST place on earth you would guess you were. German architecture, cobblestone shopping streets, art shops, bakeries. Sadly, though, no lederhosen.

Besides being a sweet oasis of apple strudel (and shopping) for Mary, Swakopmund was also our "Adrenaline Stop, Part Deux" (see our Victoria Falls blog entry for Part One). On the docket were sandboarding and quad biking on the nearby sand dunes, and our first ever sky dive. We managed to get through them all unscathed, although we can't say the same for one of our traveling companions, Lee, who achieved legend status in our eyes by the time all was said and done.

We were mildly concerned about our first activity, sandboarding, when we found out that the only equipment involved was a thin plank of wood about 2 feet by 4 feet. But we were still on such a high from our good night's sleep and warm shower that we grabbed our boards with a smile and made the arduous climb up to the top of the dunes. It was a little windy, but the view was gorgeous: rolling dunes as far as the eye could see in three directions, and then the Atlantic ocean off to the west. Our activity leader briefed us at the top, essentially by saying "You can reach speeds up to 80 km/h, but wiping out doesn't really hurt too bad... who wants to go first?" And away we went. We made about 8 runs down the dunes, unfortunately having to climb back up the dunes each time. We both managed to eclipse 70 km/h on our final runs, but neither one of us could beat the top speed of our 63-year old friend Lee, who checked in at 75 km/h, got thrown off her board twice in the process, and still kept climbing up and sailing down. By the end of the day she was bruised an battered, but she did it all with a smile on her sand-covered face.

Quad biking, our second activity, was a fantastic experience as well. It was a 2-hour sunset ride through the gorgeous dunes that are only a few miles from the city itself. Again, the views of the dunes as we rode up, over and around them were amazing. The colors and shadows created by the setting sun were truly spectacular, and even though we knew that our German utopia of a town was just a few minutes away, it really felt as if we were riding off into the middle of the desert. We were going along great for about an hour and a half, enjoying the scenery and taking pictures, when a sudden sharp turn around a dune threw a twist into things. This sharp turn was made even trickier by the fact that we were riding into the setting sun, and our friend Lee rolled head over heels down the dune! We all rushed down to make sure she was OK, which she was despite the bike rolling onto her head (thank you helmet). And after a few minutes to collect herself she was off again at the head of the pack.

And then that left skydiving. Ah. Ever since the trip started we had been talking a big game, to ourselves and to skydiving addict Skanky, that we were going to do our first ever sky dive when we got to Swakopmund. By the time the day came, the weather was perfect so there was no turning back. We hopped in the car and headed out to the desert where our plane would be taking off from. Wearing sweet pink and yellow flying suits and clear goggles, it certainly didn't feel like we were going to be jumping out of an airplane... it felt more like we were going to be filming an 80's music video. But the plane's arrival and getting strapped into our parachuting gear quickly got us into skydiving mindset, and we took a deep breath and got into the plane with our tandem divers and camera men. So in total there were six of us crammed into a tiny tiny cabin. There were arms, legs and cameras everywhere, and at one point I tried to adjust my foot to aid circulation and actually ended up moving Mary's foot by mistake.

So there we were, on our way to 10,000 feet over the Namib Desert. Mary was all smiles and hamming it up with the crew, while I was basically saying prayer after prayer to my Dad and trying my best to look calm on video and enjoy the scenic flight leading up to the jump. It really was a beautiful flight: blue skies with puffy white clouds, golden sand dunes and miles of ocean coastline surrounded us. After about twenty minutes, we starting prepping to jump. Mary was set to go first. We unraveled our limbs, gave each other a quick kiss, and she and her tandem diver and camera man scooted toward the open door. Before I knew it, she was gone, hurtling towards the desert below. Being the only other jumper on board, there was no point in procrastinating from there. "You ready?", I was asked. "Let's go!", I said, with less authority than I probably imagine. But I really was eager to jump at this point, if for no other reason than to regain the feeling in my lower legs.

So we made our way to the door, wind howling through, and I dangled my legs over the edge. My brain balked for a millisecond as it tried to process the fact that I was exiting an aircraft without a tarmac directly below, but I knew it was time to jump. I gave the thumbs up, and the next thing I knew I was tumbling through space, watching the plane disappear above me. From that point on, it all happened incredibly fast. The 30-second freefall was unlike any other feeling in the world, an incredible rush that seemed to last for about three seconds. Then the chute opened, and I had the next five minutes or so to process the previous 30 seconds, wave to Mary who was also in the air, and enjoy the view from up above the dunes. Wow.

Lee and Alex then went up right after the two of us. Alex is a veteran skydiver and had no issues tossing himself out of the plane. Lee, always up for something new, did her first ever sky dive as well. So in the span of a day and a half she 1) wiped out on a sandboard going 75 km/h (fastest of our group), 2) rolled down the side of a sand dune in a quad bike, and 3) did her first sky dive. Oh, and I should also mention that when she first arrived in Africa, the car she was traveling in from the airport struck a kudu. Unbelievable. Lee, you are a true adventurer.

Well that about sums up Swakopmund, aka the German oasis in the middle of Namibia. From here we move on down to Sesriem and the red dunes of Sossuvlei and Dune 45...

Namibia is a country roughly 1.5 the size of California*. Bordering Botswana, South Africa and Angola, Namibia is primarily desert with a sweet coastline that does a number on any boat that comes even close to landing on her shores. The coast is so treacherous that its called "the Skeleton Coast". The skeletons belong to both the ships and the men who made it safely to land only to learn they were stuck in the desert. That's got to be a painful realization. It's also home to one of the largest seal colonies in the world. The Cape Cross Seals (a great name for a band I'll never front) number in the millions and, speaking from personal experience, smell like they number in the millions. It's truly an amazing site to see all of these seals at work and play on the coast. It's also reassuring that you can buy a seal skin wallet and not feel like a jerk because the survival of the colony relies on the reduction of numbers by natural and humane efforts.

Moving on, Namibia has approximately 2.5 million inhabitants. Most of these inhabitants live near the German influenced city of Windhoek. For a while Shiloh Jolie-Pitt was the most famous of these inhabitants (unless you count our friend and blog reader Rachael). I've mentioned the Himbas in a past blog but the other tribe worth a mention is the Herero. Really the Himba are the traditional version of this tribe, the original Hereros if you will. When the Herero are mentioned its usually in reference to the folks who have "modernized" and adapted to a more western way of life. While most of the Herero have taken on the western dress, etc, what really boggles the mind is seeing the woman who still wear traditional dress. They've adopted the clothing of the Germans who colonized the place a hundred years ago. This means they wear this extremely large petticoat with layers upon layers of brightly colored dress. A practical outfit for the desert. The dress has puffy sleeves and is topped with a cool little hat thing that's very hard to describe in a blog. May I direct you to google yet again for visualization. I LOVE this traditional garb but can't help but think it looks like something out of a Grimm's fairy tale. Oh you Germans - bringing the sausage roll and the petticoat to Africa. What will you think of next?

One thing that many of you may know about Namibia is that it's a land of incredibly diverse landscapes. We have covered a LOT of ground here in Africa and I can say with certainty that Namibia is the only country we've driven through that can change it's face in a matter of minutes. Rock canyons that lend themselves perfectly to a Western movie one minute (complete with scary vultures) and rolling hills dusted with a baby fine blond grass the next. Volatile coast lines transform into sandy dunes and then level out to salt flats within a miles drive. Its absolutely incredible. There is no way you can get a sense of the landscape with a picture as no camera could possibly capture the uniqueness of this country. We say this now and we still have the southern region, perhaps the most famous of the country's geographies, to tackle. I can't wait.

Okay, so that was my Namibia 101 just to give you a bit of context for our bush camping story. If you can't appreciate the changing landscape then you can't appreciate how difficult it was to navigate a 4X4 through this diverse landscape with little but a few tire tracks left by past travelers to guide the way. Wow. Bush camping is NOT for the faint of heart. One might say it really "bonds people together" ...if they don't kill each other in the process. The rewards, however, FAR outweigh the difficulties it takes to go from point A to point B.

The highlights:
- UNBELIEVABLE scenery and being the only humans around for miles to appreciate it
- Tracking the elusive desert elephant only to lose it's tracks somewhere in the bush
- Coming across a small hut and being greeted by a woman that looked like a Herero version of a German cook from the 1800s (sidenote: I'm an expert on German cook fashion in the 1800s)
- Driving along non-existent roads and watching giraffe, oryx and ostrich stare at the car as we road by
- Finding the world's best bush campsites and sitting around the fire under a dome of crystal clear stars (seriously we've never seen stars like we have here in Namibia)
- James' delicious camping dinners of kudu, eland and oryx. It's a little weird to take pictures of these animals in the day and eat them at night but hey, such is life in the bush.
- Realizing we were a little lost but that getting lost was kind of the point in the first place

And the lowlights:
- Car number one getting so far stuck in a sandy riverbed that if a donkey and trap carrying 6 local guys hadn't come by we would still be sitting there.
- Car number one over heating in another riverbed while car number two radioed to tell us that she'd "gotten stuck in quick sand and was sinking fast."
- Setting up our tents in the pitch black only to realize in the morning that we'd set up camp near the only hut in a 50 mile radius. Doesn't sound so bad except we realized this while we were going to the bathroom and suddenly noticed a group of onlookers.
- Having to walk across the sand in the middle of the HOT HOT day because the cars would sink in the sand if we actually road in them
- Getting to the absolute middle of nowhere only to find an abandoned research tent with a mysterious rock display marked with an oryx horn. Some say the rock display was a chair for the researcher. "Some" may say this but I ask "where is the researcher?" Hmmm. Looks a little grave-y to me. Anyway, James made the poor decision to move the horn. I believe this cursed us the entire ride back to civilization. Note that the "Curse of the Horn" is only a theory but if you saw this little rock display you'd know where I was coming from.

Of course you could argue that the best part of bush camping was coming out of the bush and landing at Fort Sesfontein lodge for a shower and a Coke. It might have felt that way at the time but this little adventure was definitely a highlight of our African adventure. Our trip through Namibia is not even halfway through and I can tell you without hesitation we will be back. It's truly, truly a magical place.

Stay tuned for more Namibia adventure....

* This is a total guess regarding the size of Namibia. It's big. Let's just leave it at that.

A giraffe peed on Colin.

I know that's a random way to start off the blog but it was hilarious and I can't find another relevant part of this entry to mention it. Fortunately it was a baby giraffe and Colin moved out of the way before too much damage could be done. Why were we near a giraffe you ask? Well, we were camping on a farm just outside of Etosha before heading out to bush camp. The farmers had rescued the giraffe when it became stuck in a fence a few months ago and it was now living with them on the farm. I officially want a baby...giraffe (even if it did step on my foot).

You may also be asking yourself what these farmers were growing on the farm. Berries? Corn? Pumpkins perhaps? Nope. Cheetahs. Several years ago they rescued 3 baby cheetahs (I'm seeing a trend) from certain death and have raised them in their home as family pets. We were able to play with these somewhat scary house cats and watch as they noshed on some fresh donkey carcass. Fun! They have about 18-20 wild cheetahs living on the farm as well and we piled on the flatbed of a pickup truck to pay them a visit. This would have been a pleasant stroll through the farm had the truck not been strapped with two barrels of the aforementioned donkey meat. Ever really feel like prey? We have.

Now I've been called a lot of things in my day but "Cat Lover" has never really been one of them. I suppose "sneaky" and "always plotting" would be ways I would've described cats in the past. However, when the cheetahs smelled the donkey and appeared from out of nowhere to stalk the car, well, color me a cheetah lover. They are absolutely gorgeous. We had seen a cheetah before in the wild - which is awesome - but to see 20 cheetahs surround you while the sun sets is in a league of its own. (Note that when I say we were standing in a flatbed I mean that we could've easily bent down to pet one and watch as our hands went the way of the donkey meat. Like they say at Great America, keep your hands and feet in the flatbed at all times).

The owner of the farm proceeded to feed the cheetahs by chucking raw meat at them as we watched them battled for the prime cuts. To see cheetah rip a donkey leg in two is crazy (and yes Dad, it was better than watching it on HD). After this impressive predatory display we were shown back to our campsite which bordered the cheetah fencing. Not as scary as the times we were surrounded by wild hippo but enough to give you a momentary pause. Luckily our site was right next to the lair of a female cheetah and her three baby cubs. The close proximity to our campsite meant that we could sit, read our books or eat breakfast and listen for the tell tale coo of the mother cheetah. This was our cue to look up from the camp chairs and viola! there they'd be just staring at us. I loved it...but made sure I stayed a good distance after the cheetah snarled at me when I got a bit too close for comfort. Maybe I'm not ready to embrace the cat as a species after all. Anyway, I officially want a baby cheetah to be the sibling to my baby giraffe. It's too bad our apartment barely fits Colin and I or I would definatly be taking one home. A guard cat. I like it.

Editors note on the Farm: It's important to mention that the farm is in no way a zoo. It's HUGE and once they raise enough money they will add better fencing and introduce additional wild game to turn it into a game park. They have a little bar (sans electricitly) where you can drink for cheetah conservation. Cheers to that we say!

After leaving our furry friends behind we FINALLY started our 4 day bush trek into the wilds of northern Namibia. I know I've been hyping this whole "bush trek" thing for the past couple of blogs. You may even be thinking "didn't they do that a long time ago?" Well, it takes a little more planning than we thought to just make your way into uncharted territory. For those who need a bit of clarification, a bush camp is different from regular camping in that you don't stay at a designated campsite. You basically find a flat piece of land in the middle of nowhere and pitch a tent. The idea is to really get away from it all, be one with nature, sleep under the stars, etc., etc.

When Col and I were reading about Namibia we were really interested in visiting the Kaokoland region in the northwest part of the country. It's home to the Himbas, one of the last tribes in Africa to retain their tribal way of life (and not just to fetch a dollar or two for a photo). I suggest looking up Himbas on google so you can see why were were fascinated by their culture. Unfortunately (or fortunately, which ever way you look at it) getting up to that part of the world is difficult. To quote from the guidebook we had regarding this area, "it's beautiful and ever changing scenery make this a magnificent place to visit. However, due to the unpredictable nature of the roads and few inhibitants we have decided not to include any information on how to travel to this part of the country." Hmmm. Foreshadowing?

We packed the car with food, fuel, water and our sense of humor and set out for a real adventure...

To Be Continued.

(To learn more about our trek into the bush you'll have to wait for the next blog entry. The suspense! I used to love when sitcoms did the To Be Continued. And to learn more about Namibia and the Himbas visit your local library. More adventure calls....)