The route south from Etosha exemplified the diverse and starkly beautiful geography of Namibia. An afternoon exploring the rocky outcroppings and canyons of Sesriem was reminiscent of deserts in central Australia or Arizona, and as evening approached, the group scrambled to find the best vantage points to watch the changing colours and shadow extensions.
A stop at the Cape Cross seal colony reminded us that a vast Atlantic coastline bounds this sprawling barren wasteland along the aptly named skeleton coast - famous for shipwrecks and towns swallowed up by the encroaching desert sands.
After crossing the Tropic of Capricorn and the Omaruru River (the namesake of our Truck) we hunkered down for a few days in the resort town of Swapokmund – action centre of country.
The Namib Desert (considered the oldest in the world) is also a perfect place for sand boarding with 100 metre high dunes just minutes from town. But if you want to try something a bit more novel, why not sand sledding (head first). It is kind of like the recently introduced Winter Olympic sport of Skeleton, albeit a bit less sophisticated on the equipment side with only a body sized piece of Formica countertop separating you and a mouthful of sand and the worst possible knee skinning.
A few hours of ATV riding on the dunes the day before was the perfect adrenaline warm up - I was ready for the big time.
After a quick demo from the activity operator, I grabbed my “crazy carpet” and jumped on for 30 seconds of sand sliding speed. Reminiscent of tobogganing, the hard part is walking back up the dunes each time. With five runs under our (sand encrusted) belts, we slaved up to the pinnacle dune, where this time there would be a speed gun at the bottom (great – adding a competitive element never hurt anyone). The first run clocked in at what I thought was a respectable 70 kph, but after hearing one of the girls got it up to 74, I couldn’t stop yet. It took three more tries before I could match that speed, but at least I got a tie (along with a few bruises and a bit of a sore groin from the increasingly bumpy terrain, good thing it was my anniversary yesterday).
Our expedition leader Samy provided daily prevue briefings and this evening issued some dire warnings about flooding in the southern desert areas we were heading (with the possibility of 5 – 10 hour road closure delays). Responding appropriately, everyone on board crashed the “Drankwinkel” (liquor store) to stock up just in case. But these folks did not know who they were traveling with – as Lesley & I had only experienced three days of rain in our three month journey so far – would that trend hold?
As luck would have it, a week of rain ended a couple of days earlier and the floods had already receded. We arrived in the Sossusvlei salt pan area to what the locals described as the greenest desert in 30 years. An afternoon of scouting and explanations from a bush expert provided insights into the mechanisms of plant and animal survival in what is normally a withering environment. He also exposed the sordid history of the diminutive local Bushmen, who were often hunted and sometimes even kept as pets.
Then we learned of our fate for the next morning - yet another annoying pre-dawn activity, this time climbing the imaginatively named Dune 45 for a sunrise viewing (allegedly known as "the most photographed dune in the world"). While the pink and orange glow of the classic crescent ridges was admittedly pretty spectacular, running and skipping down the 100 metre incline was way more fun, especially when rewarded with breakfast waiting at the truck below. The area is actually home to the highest dunes in the world, some reaching between 300-400 metres (the tallest is fittingly named “Big Daddy” and happily not on our itinerary for conquest).
We spent a few hours wandering through the dramatic Deadvlei (“vlei” means marsh), but in this case the “dead” part arose from ancient climate change as droughts hit the area and sand dunes encroached blocking water from river flows. The marches dried up and the indigenous “Camel Thorn Trees” died, leaving skeletal remains believed to be about 900 years old (scorched black because of the intense sun and not decomposing because of the associated dryness of the area).
Knowing now what “Deadvlei” means, we asked and then learned that Sossusvlei loosely translates to “Marsh of No Return” – so while we are suppose to be headed to the Fish River Canyon (Namibia’s answer to the Grand Canyon).
I am not sure about our fate (either here of there) and whether this may be my last blog entry…
For more Namibia photos, visit flickr at:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/thegoobers_pics/sets/72157626323499331/
