After catching a bus from Gabs, we pedalled through the Kalahari desert into Namibia, stopped in Windhoek and hired a car to visit a National Park, before cycling through the Namib desert. We are now on the coast for the first time this trip, and find ourselves in a beautiful seaside town that feels more like Europe than Africa. We are as happy as we’ve been this trip. Although the Namib desert was extremely challenging and was a real test, we love Namibia and are very happy here. It is a bit more tame than East Africa and doesn’t feel as though we are in another world, but it is part of Africa and part of the journey. We love the journey!!
I have written about our cycling as a day-by-day diary just to describe our experiences in a different format. I have still included updates about other happenings.
Quiz
a) All passengers in a vehicle must wear a seatbelt
b) Nobody in a vehicle is required to wear a seatbelt
c) Only passengers in the front seat are required to wear a seatbelt
The answer is C. We’ll never be able to understand the lack of logic associated with many African laws.
On the road again
There is nothing like a good rest to recharge the batteries and get motivated. After spending more than three weeks off the bikes we were ready for more adventure. We were so excited, and as much as we loved being relaxed and comfortable in a normal house, it wasn’t what we came to Africa for and we found ourselves wanting rough roads through remote and rural villages, eating local food and sleeping in our tent or ‘cultural’ guesthouses.
Before we left Gaborone, Robyn asked if we could do a short presentation to her class at school. We quickly whipped something up, and then rode our bikes to the school the day before we left. Robyn teaches at an International school so all the kids in her class came from different parts of the world as their parents had migrated and settled in Botswana. About 20 Grade 4 kids squashed on the front two rows of their massive hall designed for 350 kids. Christine then did what she does so well; tell stories. She had their full attention as she cleverly put a positive spin on all our adventures so far, and didn’t hold back on some of the squeamish content. They particularly liked hearing about her foot infection, and of course this prompted the kids to then tell their own stories of near death wounds as kids love to do. Pictures on the big screen and some music topped off the presentation.
Christine entertaining the Grade 4’s.
The next day it was time to leave and we were sad to leave in a way. We had met some great people and we were enjoying the social aspect. After four months of only talking to each other it took a while to remember how to socialise, but Robyn has a network of interesting friends from different walks of life and we were enjoying hearing their stories. On the other hand, Gaborone is a fairly uninspiring city with not much to do. Plus, we don’t do well at sitting still for too long. We were restless again. On the way out we gave our $20 runners, which were now worth about $1 as bits of them were falling off regularly, to one of the security guards. She had been friendly to us the whole time we were there, and although they were miles too big for her, she loved them and said that with a few pairs of socks they will fit fine.
Between Gaborone and the turnoff to Namibia lies a 600km strip of tar that dissects the Kalahari desert. It is dead straight, dead flat and we decided, dead boring. So we decided to take a bus to the junction. We cycled to the bus station at 5:30am for a 6am departure. We nervously watched as the bus boys stuffed our bikes and trailers into small pockets of space underneath the bus, showing little care for our precious babies. We then crammed onto the bus which was full. African transport is always full. Rather than a row of 4 divided in the middle by the aisle as we know buses to be, many African buses have 2 seats on one side and 3 seats on the other; 5 across. The bus isn’t any wider, so it just means more people and less space. It wasn’t too bad though, and our white heads must have surely stood out in a bus full of black people. As we sped along, we looked out the window and decided that the bus option was a good one. There was nothing, and it would have been 6 days of cycling that would have surely driven us mad.
Seven hours later we reached the junction. We knew that the Kalahari continued towards Namibia and there wouldn’t be much for a few hundred kilometres. We assumed that because it was a major junction between Botswana and Namibia that there might be a petrol station or a small village or somewhere to fill up with water. You would have thought we would have learnt by now to never assume in Africa. There was nothing at the junction. Nothing. Just a sign indicating Namibia turn left. We told the bus driver to keep going to the next town 40km away. This meant we would have to cycle the 40km back to the junction – not happy. We decided to stay in the village as the day was now too late to start cycling. While Christine was doing some shopping I had a group of kids come up to me while I was minding the bikes. They looked different to the Botswanans we had come to recognise. Their skin wasn’t quite as black, and although these kids were rough looking with tattered clothes and bare feet, their skin was a beautiful complexion and features quite elegant. They were local San people which we had read about, and who live in this part of Botswana and over the border in Namibia. They started making noises towards me. Lots of clicks and clocks, the type of noise you make with your tongue which slightly resembles the sound of a horse trotting. Firstly, I thought they were being cheeky little buggers. But then I realised that they were communicating with each other, and were trying to communicate with me. How can anyone communicate with clicks and clocks and sucking noises I thought? I then discovered that this was their language, and it was absolutely fascinating to listen to. Christine soon came back and she too was amazed to hear how these strange noises formed their language. We just sat and listened to them for a while. They were getting frustrated with us because they were waiting for us to reply, as if we understood their language. We have heard many languages before, but this is the most fascinating. We said goodbye to them as they were clicking away, and found a campground just out of town. It then took us 5 days of cycling to reach Windhoek, the capital city of Namibia.
Across the Kalahari
The Kalahari went on … and on. There was nothing. No towns, buildings or people. The road was flat and straight, and quite boring but we were just happy to be back on the road. After 100km we passed through a small village. We filled up with water and then rode on in search of a camping site. This was easy to find, it was all the same. At about 4:30pm we pulled off the road and went into the bush. We set up camp in the Kalahari sands, and felt relaxed that nobody was around and there was apparently no dangerous animals. We cooked dinner, lit a fire in the sand and watched the sun light be replaced by bright stars and a shining half moon. It was beautiful, and one of our most memorable campsites this trip.
Day 2: We again woke to sub zero temperatures and hit the road by 8am. The Kalahari continued and still we didn’t see anybody and didn’t pass through any significant towns. We reached the Namibian border in the early afternoon and couldn’t believe how quiet it was. There was nobody around, and was so unlike an African border crossing. We easily got stamped out and stamped in, there was nobody to change money, and pleasantly, nobody to annoy us. This was a nice change, but there was a part of me that missed the challenge of shaking off the border pests and having everyone swarm around us. It was simply too easy to get through incident free. We found a campsite just over the border that was run by an unfriendly and scary South African lady. We met two motorcycle tourers who had come from Morocco together through West Africa. It was interesting to hear their stories and compare the differences at being on a motor bike as opposed to a push bike.
We saw lots of Warthogs scampering off into the bush.
Day 3: A fairly straight forward day. The motorbike tourers whizzed past mid morning and we wished we were effortlessly cruising at 80km/hr. Instead we plodded along and arrived in the first substantial town since leaving Gaborone. It was Saturday afternoon, nothing was open and it was very quiet. We found a campground, and were the only people staying there.
Day 4: Between here and Windhoek was 210km, with only one town on the way at 50km. We had no plans today, just to see where we end up. This usually leads to an interesting day, and today was no exception. We arrived at the town fairly early, and being Sunday the only thing that was alive was the church, where singing and preaching was echoing and escaping the big doors. We filled up our water as there would be nothing else should we find somewhere to camp. At 100km we found a small roadside shop. We rested and spoke to the guy who worked there. He spoke English, as well as the clicking language. We asked him many questions, excited by the opportunity to communicate and learn about the local people. Meanwhile, a farmer from the area popped in. He said that we should camp here as there was nothing except private farming property all the way to Windhoek. We should have listened to him, but we didn’t. After he left, so did we. He was right though. Fences lined both sides of the road with only the odd driveway leading deep into the bush, and clearly indicating on the gate “Private property. Strictly no access”. This area is a big cattle ranching area, so farmers have massive properties with their houses a long way off the road through deep sandy tracks. We didn’t really want to be lifting our bikes over their fences to illegally camp on their properties, on which some had animals other than cattle which they kept for game hunting. We pushed on, and the sun was fading fast. Before we knew it we had our head torches on and it was pitch black. There was no bike lane, and the Sunday night traffic was quite heavy as school was resuming tomorrow after their holidays. We got the odd honk, but most cars and trucks took a generous wide berth. Still, it wasn’t pleasant. We finally saw some lights in the distance and predicted that it was a small town marked on our map. We arrived in the dark and the lights we could see turned out to be about 6 or so houses scattered in the valley off the side of the road. We went to one front gate, but nobody was home. We went to another, and a man greeted us. We asked if we could camp on his property. He was friendly, but seemed quite shocked. This was to be predicted. Here we were in a quiet bunch of farm houses out in the sticks in the dark on a Sunday night. He could have invited us in, given us a bed and a hot meal, or, he could have told us to piss off. He did something in between, and offered us a horse paddock full of horse shit to pitch our tent. We didn’t mind though, as we had covered over 150km and were ready to call it a day. It was dark and cold, and packet soup has never tasted so good. We zipped up and were dead to the world by 7:30pm.
Our campsite in the horse paddock
Day 5: The scenery changed today. We left the Kalahari sands and flat dessert, and started to roll up and down through rocky outcrops. Ahhh, back into some hills after so many kilometres of flat riding. It was nice, but we were tired from yesterday. We only had about 60km to Windhoek, but it dragged out. We finally entered the city, and it was very pleasant. A mix of Europe and Africa not only in architecture, but also the people. Namibia has a German history, and it was immediately evident in how the city was layed out and by some of the language printed on shop windows. We went past some police officers, and heard one of them yell out “where is your helmet?” We suddenly realised that you must wear a helmet in Namibia. We gave our stock standard African police response – to smile, wave and say hello, but to keep riding and pretend you don’t understand what they are saying. It always works, and worked this time too. We don’t wear helmets (long story … we’ll tell you why one day) and find it bizarre that in a country where it is OK to pile 20 people in the back of a ute and speed along at 120km/hr but isn’t OK to ride a bike without a helmet. Common sense and African laws don’t tend to go together. We rode around in circles looking for the backpackers we had planned to stay at. Our map was made in early 2003, but the backpackers moved in late 2003. Of course nobody knew, and all the directions we received lead us around in circles. It didn’t help that we were mis-pronouncing the name and asking for Chameleon (pronouncing Cha-ma-leon, instead of the correct Ca-mill-ian which is a common African reptile). We eventually made it, and enjoyed a rest after a tiring but interesting 5 days.
We stopped and had 2-minute noodles for breakfast on our way into Windhoek
BEN Namibia
While we were in Windhoek, we visited the other charity we are supporting. BEN (Bicycles Empowerment Network) Namibia is situated in a block in the industrial area of Windhoek. Michael is the young Australian who founded BEN Namibia two years ago, and he is still overseeing the many and expanding projects BEN Namibia is conducting throughout the country. He is a humble man, and his amazing efforts were not immediately recognisable. But after some deep probing and many questions, as we seem to by guilty of so often, we soon began to learn that he is nothing short of inspirational, and his enthusiasm and determination soon became evident. The more we spoke to him and looked around the warehouse that has been turned into a busy workshop where ideas and visions become reality, the more we were satisfied and content that ½ of our fund raising will be going to a wonderful cause. This was great news, and now we can relax knowing that the money we raise is going to two worthwhile and healthy causes, and as I have written before, we have become mercilessly clear in our minds on what is helpful and what is damaging in regards to aid organisations. This is also great news for everyone who has donated money, and it is something we treat very seriously. We want to make sure the money you have donated is going to a wonderful cause, and now we can safely reassure you that the money you have donated will go a long way in helping people less fortunate than us in a sustainable way.
The project BEN Namibia is currently working on involves designing and building bicycle ambulances. Currently, it is difficult for home based carers to get to patients, and then transport them to clinics in remote areas. When you consider the magnitude of HIV/Aids it starts to ring clear how such a development will assist carers and patients. 30% of people in some regions are infected, an inconceivable amount, and something like a bicycle ambulance will assist immensely, especially in remote regions of which there are plenty in Namibia.
As well as the bicycle ambulance, BEN Namibia have many other projects on the go, and we wondered how a seemingly small team, lead inspirationally by Michael, could handle so many projects. He seemed to just plod along, and apart from gaining a few grey hairs, he seemed to relish in the challenge. He enjoyed hearing our Australian accents as he has lived away from Australia for 7 years, and he took us on a tour of Windhoek – cycle tour of course!
I won’t write anymore about the many positive projects and the fantastic forward moving energy of BEN Namibia as this was more just a short summary and a reassurance to people who have donated money. If you have any further questions about BEN Namibia you can email me or check their website.
Christine towing me in a bicycle ambulance which BEN Namibia is distributing to home based carers
The warehouse has been transformed into a busy workshop
Etosha Magic
It is just a coincidence that we both love animals. Some things we have grown to love together, but a love of animals has existed in both of us long before we knew of each other. We both grew up watching with fascination documentaries about animals around the world. The animals of Africa always had a special place in our dreams, and we imagined the day we could observe them in their natural environment, free from fences and human interference.
Apart from that rare occasion in Uganda, National Parks in Africa prohibit, for good reason, cycling within their boundaries. Unfortunately human encroachment and hunting has meant that most animals only exist safely and in abundance in National Parks. Etosha, the world renowned National Park in Northern Namibia, was to be our last chance to observe the wonderful animals of Africa. No cycling meant that the only way was in a vehicle, and being the stubborn solitary travellers that we are we couldn’t face the idea of joining other tourists on a tour. We like to do our own thing, eat what we want to eat, stop when we want to stop, go where we want to go and go to the toilet when we need to. Having someone else, a tour leader for example, making these decisions for us is not our thing, and to be honest, we would hate this lack of freedom and independence. The only option left was to hire a car, so that’s what we did.
We picked up the little hatch back, and off we sped 430km north to the gate entry. We had forgotten how fast you go in a car. What would have been 4 solid days on the bike was easily accounted for in less than 5 hours. We were so excited, like little kids on Christmas day.
We arrived at the park, and less than 5 km in we found a secluded dirt road and were greeted by a herd of zebra, a lonely wildebeest and a host of other antelope. Here we were living our childhood dreams, and it felt quite surreal. We observed them for a short time, and then cruised along in search of what was around the next corner. And so this continued for 3 days. The camp sites within the park are fenced in, and you cannot leave until 6:20am, and you must be back inside the gate by 5:30am. Each time, we were waiting at the gate to be opened in the morning and were speeding to get back inside, often at 5:30pm on the dot. You could say we made the most of it, and we loved every minute. We saw many animals, and the park was so big that we were often observing the animals in a remote corner by ourselves. We gave the little car an absolute flogging, and she held up quite well considering.
A typical scene at a water hole in Etosha
A Spotted Hyena we saw walking next to the road in Etosha
The highlight was on our last morning. We were waiting for the gate to be opened at 6:15am, and when it did we sped off to a water hole where we knew a pride of lions hung out. We got there and there was nothing, but we waited patiently in the still air as the sun rose and began to warm the earth. It was eerily silent, and not being the most patient person it was challenging to sit and wait. And then a sound we won’t forget; the unmistakable roar of a lion. We looked behind our car, which we were now standing up in with our heads out the window, and over the sandy hill behind came a big male lion, trotting proudly with his head high and chest seemingly puffed out. Shortly after followed an equally impressive male, and then finally the rest of the pride came trotting over to the water hole for a morning drink. In all there were 10 in this pride, including 5 half grown cubs. It was amazing, and we watched in awe as they went about their business. No other animals dared to come near the lions, and the only sign of other life was a scavenging jackal sneaking around and a lone ostrich poking around way off in the distance. The lions were the kings, and they seemed to know it. There was an air or arrogance about them, as though they knew they were boss. We watched them drink and play for about an hour, and then they wandered off to find a suitable spot to spend the day resting. We drove away, and felt happy knowing that in a world where animals come a distant second behind humans in the pecking order, here the animals ruled and lived naturally in their normal environment. It was a memorable experience; one which we won’t forget.
One of the lioness wandering over
The pride come running
Etosha sunrise
We drove back to Windhoek and felt sad that the next day we wouldn’t be waiting at the gate ready to explore and watch the animals. I declared to Christine that one day I will be a Park Ranger in one of the big African National Parks. She said “oh yeh, sure Ross” as she does to all of my great ideas and dreams. On the way home we found a fantastic bakery/café. Namibia has a German influence, and the food and service at this café was very un-African. The strudel went down a treat, and we enjoyed divine food. Then we thought about it, and decided that the service and food was actually just normal as we would get in Australia at any bakery or café. It is just that we haven’t been used to it for some time now, and got overly excited. We also stopped at a fantastic market selling beautiful souvenirs such as wood carvings, paintings, jewellery, etc. The unfortunate thing about being on a bike is that we are reluctant to buy anything as then we must carry it for months. Space is limited, and weight is a hindrance. It is a shame, because we have seen some great pieces of handicraft and art here in Africa, and all for such cheap prices. It is one of the rare occasions where we wished we weren’t travelling by bike so we could buy some souvenirs and in the process support local industry in a healthy way. One poor fella said to me “give me your plugs and you can have anything in my stall”. I soon found out that my plugs were actually the crappy, smelly and well-worn thongs I bought in Malawi for less than $1. I didn’t want anything, so I declined his offer. But I later felt sorry for him as he must have been desperate for some footwear, so I returned to give him my thongs, but he had shut up shop and was nowhere to be seen.
To the coast
We left Windhoek and headed west. There are two routes to Swakopmund, and we took the more adventurous route which was a 330km dirt road in which we greatly underestimated its difficulty.
Day 1 (73km): We knew that there was nothing between Windhoek and Swakopmund. We are so used to Africa just having people everywhere, but Namibia is very sparsely populated. It is quite a big country but has less than 2 million people, and most of them, more than 50% in fact, live in the very far north. There weren’t any dots on the map. We had learnt that in Namibia, unlike other African countries, there were no small villages, no people herding cattle, no roadside stalls or no chasing kids between towns. Nothing in Namibia means exactly that, and it takes a little adjusting to get used to. With this in mind, we loaded up with about 4 days worth of food and as much water as we could carry – about 10 litres each.
Our bags were bulging and the bike was seriously heavy. We wobbled our way out of our backpackers and said goodbye to an Israel couple we have seen now in four countries (they are travelling in their own 4WD), and Hugh, a Welsh bike tourer we have come across a few times.
We left Windhoek and the road was immediately hilly. To add to this and our extra heavy loads we were pushing into a biting headwind. The sun was doing its best to warm us up, but the chilly wind was enough for us to cycle in socks and long sleeves all day. This was the first time we have worn socks on the bike this trip. It was tough going, and the wind whistled around our ears creating enough noise to make things unpleasant. After 25km we also left the tarred road and hit the dirt. Things were now very challenging, and we began to realise just how tough this stretch was going to be.
We battled on, and by 5pm the sun was setting and we found a place on the side of the road to camp. We cut up most of our fresh vegies and cooked up a lovely stir fry. It was very cold and we were in the tent by 7pm.
Day 2 (48km): If yesterday was tough, today was a bloody nightmare. The hills were so steep and we had never spent so much time in granny gear before. And it wasn’t that rewarding either, because as soon as we got to the top of one hill, we held on for dear life down the other side only to find ourselves grinding away up another. This seemed to go on for ever, and progress was tough and very slow. The road was loose sand and big rocks and some hills we had to push our bikes up, and that was extremely laborious.
Pushing up the steep sandy and rocky hills was very tiring
We were out of water and needed some before we could camp. The area has many farms dotted around, but we never saw any houses as they were a long way off the road and into the bush. We did however see the odd cattle trough, and we wondered how we could get some water. We stopped at one cattle trough and jumped the fence to the alert stares of about 100 cows. The tank was only half full, and there was no way of reaching over to scoop up some of the smelly green water into our bottles. We then went to the trough itself, full of putrid water mixed with cow slobber. Through experimentation, we discovered that if you push the floater down, fresh, well, sort of fresh, water comes out of the nozzle. Perfect! We filled up, scampered back over the fence and let the cows have their trough back.
We pushed on until 5pm, and could only manage 48km in a full day. We found a nice spot on the side of the road and lit a small fire to keep warm. We cooked up a nice big dinner of pasta, and Christine surprised me with a block of chocolate which she had been hiding from me. It tasted soooo good. We sucked our last pieces trying to make them last, as we sat by the fire and wrote in our journals. Bliss.
Day 3 (69km): Again the start of the day was tough going. We still had more climbing, and the first 35km were as tough as we had ever done. It was tiring work in a relentless environment. The nights were freezing, but the days quite warm. The rocky landscape was bone dry, and we often wondered how anything could survive in such a harsh place. The land jutted and cut up and down, and swallowed us up. We felt dwarfed in a seemingly endless and vast environment. We eventually made it to the pass, marking the end of the mountainous section.
We felt like the rocky mountainous landscape was swallowing us up
By chance, a retired Dutch couple who now live in Cape Town were on holidays and were taking the scenic route to Windhoek. They also stopped at the pass, and they kindly gave us half a loaf of bread, 3 juicy apples, 2 cup-a-soups and their address should we need a place to stay in their neck of the woods. What wonderful generosity, and what perfect timing. We cycled just out of their view down the other side, stopped and greedily gobbled down the apples and some bread like starving vultures so as to not embarrass ourselves in front of them. The juicy apples were divine.
They were the only people we saw and spoke to all day. It is such a remote region and feels empty of people and civilisation. The mountains slowly tapered out and the road started to improve, but just to make sure life didn’t get too easy a howling headwind kicked in. We got some water out of a tank as Christine could reach down with her long arms and scoop it out. We started to see some animals now too. Gemsbok, Springbok, Steenbok, Impala, Kudu, Warthog, Ostrich and Bat-eared Fox were all animals we sighted from our saddles as we pedalled along. We also saw a dead zebra, which may have been a result of the resident leaopards or hyenas. We had enough water, but we stopped at a farm to top up. We stood yelling at the gate, but nobody was home so we pushed on and found a nice place amongst the rocks to camp. No fire tonight, so in bed by 7pm after a hearty rice meal.
Collecting water
Campsite amongst the rocks
Day 4 (100km): It turned out that we had put our tent on a patch of tiny thorns, and I woke in the middle of the night with my body digging in to the rocky ground. The thorns had punctured my sleeping mat in two places and I didn’t sleep very well. The beautiful sunrise created magical colours on the rocks, and my lack of sleep was soon forgotten. We pedalled off and the first 70km were absolutely beautiful. We saw many animals, including a herd of elusive Mountain Zebra, the road was smooth and gradual down hill, the sharp jagged gorges gave way to smooth and rounded rocky outcrops and there wasn’t a person, car or building in sight. The sun was just warm enough and we cycled along feeling free and happy, not wishing to be anywhere else. It was one of those beautiful moments we sometimes have as we cycle along.
Later in the day we came across 2 older German couples travelling together in a 4WD. Namibia is popular for Germans as their language is widely spoken and understood, you can fly direct from Windhoek to Germany and the low population and emptiness of the countryside is appealing to Germans coming from a heavily populated country. They were stopped on the side of the road, and as we approached one of the old guys was filming us. We then stopped and chatted, and they struggled to understand our quick spoken Aussie accent. Their heavy German accents were also quite amusing, but not as funny as their kits. They looked as though they had just stepped out of Aussie Disposals with their full khaki safari outfit clad with cargo pockets and zips. Meanwhile the guy who was filming, was now armed with his still camera and was busy snapping away, taking particular interest in our boxing kangaroo flags. At one stage I looked around and he was holding it up excitedly pronouncing “ya, kangarloooo”.
We pedalled off and it was now dead flat. The treeless terrain was bizarre, and reminded us more of images of the moon. Greyish pebbles and sand encrustations made it clear we had now entered the Namib Desert. It was strange, yet quite beautiful. We could see for miles over the featureless landscape, and the vast and barren desert created a surreal illusion of distance, colour and space. We are more at home in the mountains, so this was an interesting experience. Unfortunately the last 30km were into a hellish headwind and were very forgetable. We did however run into a young South African fella visiting some relatives in the area. Jaco was very interested in our trip and it just so happened that he had plenty of water. We relieved him of about 4 litres which was just what we needed as we had started rationing in the fear we would run out. The sun was sinking fast so we plucked a spot on the side of the road, which was easy to do because it all looked the same, set up our tent and boiled some water. We now had enough water to treat ourselves with a hot chocolate, and that first sip of warm sweet cocoa washed away the discomfort of a hard day in the saddle. It got cold very quickly, but the clear desert sky was illuminated by a dazzling array of stars. We bunkered down, and went to sleep feeling content and happy that Swakopmund, a hot shower and a decent meal were not far away.
Looking for animals in the Namib Desert
Sections of the featureless desert evoked strange perceptions of distance & colour
Setting up camp as the sun disappears in the Namib Desert
Day 5 (41km): How things change quickly while bike touring. I woke up irritable. Firstly, I hadn’t had a chance to fix my mat so I tossed and turned all night, hips and shoulders digging in to the ground, all the while Christine slept peacefully next to me. Then at 5am the piercing sound of a howling jackal woke us both up, and it must have been less than 10m away from our tent. Apart from waking us, this didn’t worry us at all as we know that although jackals are animals of prey, they wouldn’t consider humans or anything much bigger than itself a food source. Their high pitched howl in the silence of a desert night does however sound rather eerie though. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I read until it was light, and then I opened the tent hoping for our anticipated sunrise which we had strategically placed the tent for an open door viewing. To my bitter disappointment, the tent was soaking and we were engulfed in a heavy and wet mist, the sun nowhere to be seen. Visibility was less than 50m and it was a miserable start to the day. We packed our sodden tent, put our heads down and cycled off hardly saying a word to each other until breakfast at 25km. It was tough going as the sandy road was wet. This not only sucked every ounce of energy out of us just to move forward, but wet sand splatted and sprayed everywhere ensuring that the bike was crunching and grinding rather than purring like a well oiled machine.
The mist reduced visibility and made cycling unpleasant
Wet sand stuck to everything
We stopped on the side of the road for breakfast. We ate our last muesli which meant that we only had 2 packets of 2-minute noodles left – perfect planning! It was still cold, but the mist was starting to lift and the famous sand dunes were just coming into sight. We joined the tarred road for the last 6km and the smooth road only made the noises from our bikes now sound louder. Finally we reached Swakopmund, and it is a beautiful town. Very German and very un-African. We treated ourselves to a room as we have spent the last 18 nights in our tent. We hosed the bikes off, did some washing and enjoyed a nice meal. It was a great feeling to arrive, as it was one of our toughest stretches of cycling we have ever done.
Breakfast on the side of the road in the strange moon-like desert landscape
Swakopmund is on the west coast of Namibia and it is the first time we have seen the ocean this trip. It also means that we have just ridden across Namibia from east to west.
We will spend some time here enjoying the food and ocean in this town, which is probably the most beautiful we have been to so far. The area is also famous for it’s massive sand dunes, and we will do some exploring on foot and maybe do the tourist thing again and go sand boarding (basically snow boarding but on huge sand dunes!) We ran into Jaco when we arrived, and he is very passionate and knowledgeable about the area. He got our dune exploration on the way with a drive through the dunes. It was awesome, and it was amazing the gradients Jaco was attempting both up and down in his 1991 Toyota twin cab ute. He knew the dunes well and was experienced in how to tackle them on 4 wheels, and was well skilled to perform some of his dare devil climbs and descents. It was a lot of fun.
After we leave here, we have over 1000km of dirt road through more remote parts of Namibia which, going by the last 300km, is going to be very tough. We will eventually pop out in the far north west of South Africa where we will embark on our final 700km down to Cape Town.
Fun in the dunes with Jaco
2 comments:
Hey! "Aussie" Dave told me to take a look at your website and follow your marvelous journey. I love it! Keep up the good work and push on.
-chi
diverseimages.com
hoppys! sounds like ur havin an absolute freakin ball, i got my L's so the roads are pretty dangerous now but yeh, keep ridin
xx. char
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