Sand, sand and more sand

Right, time to cover a little more ground on the Blog, and see if I can finally get a bit nearer to the Namibia/SA border. Looking back on last time, we had just had our second night in Swakopmund...

Well, we were all up and ready to leave Swakopmund on the Tuesday morning, but unfortunately White Nile wasn't! Due to some issues we'd been having with the stereo, and a couple of other minor issues, she was being looked at by a mechanic. So we got a little time to ourselves, which most of us used either for catching up on net time, or for shopping. Eventually, an hour or so past our original departure time, White Nile rocks up and we all pile on. We then find out that the attempted repairs haven't fixed things, as they couldn't figure out what was wrong. Bugger. So, we head on, dodgy stereo and everything, down the coast to the town of Walvis Bay.

Now, Walvis Bay was the last town to join Namibia, as the South Africans didn't release it until 1994! The reason for this is that Walvis Bay was historically part of South Africa under the British, when Namibia was the German colony of South-West Africa, largely because Walvis Bay sits on the only decent harbour along the entire Namibian coast, so we Brits decided that was the only bit worth having (note that this was way back before anyone found diamonds...). These days, though, it's re-integrated with the rest of the country. And we were popping down there to go see flamingoes. You see, there's pretty big salt marshes along the coast there, which the dumb pink birds love, so there's thousands of the buggers just sitting there. I wasn't really in the mood to get that excited about them, but a few of the others went off determinedly up the beach, with a cunning plan to try and drive some of the hordes perched outside effective camera range back towards the waiting masses armed with cameras. Unfortunately, due to a shortage of time and the fact that distances on the beach can be deceiving, this came to nothing, which was a shame - I was rather looking forward to them jumping around trying to scare some of the birds into flight...

After that, it was back onto the truck for another long drive down through the Namib desert, enlivened as ever by the always-competitive intra-mural games of scrabble, Uno and chess which flourished on the truck. We also made a stop at a farmhouse, which I believe was called Solitaire, where many of our number had what Paul and Valdy promised us was the "best apple pie in Namibia". From there, it was on towards the campsite of Sesriem, the gateway to the greatest dunes of the Namib, and to Sossusvlei. Except that we got there late. D'Oh! They did let us in, but our original pitch had been sold on, so we had to share with a poor family on holiday. By this point, it was too late to make our scheduled trip to see sunset at Sesriem canyon, so we just settled in for the night at the slightly surreal campsite. You see, it's all sand, but then you have these big trees sprouting up out of the middle where their roots have found water way down - each pitch is generally around the base of a tree (vital for shade during the day). Another very early night followed, as we had to be up really early...

... because the next morning we headed off on what is an informal race across the park. As soon as the gates from the campsite into the park open, most of the 4WD vehicles of whatever stripe within head out in their very own version of the Cannonball Run, albeit over a much shorter course! In this case, they are all rushing for the base of Dune 45, which is basically the designated point for watching the sunrise from within the park (wily people that the Namibian National Parks people are, they provided road access, a car-park etc at one of the dunes, on the basis that if people are going to muck about with the dunes by climbing them, it's probably best to restrict it to one of them...).

Still, despite a slightly later start than we had planned, all seemed to be going okay. Then, on arrival, I made the critical error (perhaps understandable given my oft-stated aversion to the hours of morning) of mistaking the word "sandals" for "shoes" in the phrase "We don't recommend you wear sandals when attempting to climb the dune". So I went off to climb a huge red sand-dune in my besocked feet, despite the fact that said sand is bloody freezing first thing in the morning. Given my performance on the dunes during sand-boarding at Swakop, I was expecting pain, but even that didn't necessarily prepare me for the horror of climbing that bloody dune. I was halfways sure I was bloody dying out there, as I struggled along, trying to use others' footsteps as much as possible to lessen the amount that the sand slipped out from under me as I climbed. Still, I made it up the steepest part (the first bit) and was progressing okay along a ridgeline as the first glimmers of light started to show on the horizon. Time for the first pre-sunset photo.

So, out comes my camera, snap goes the shot, and then comes the whirring of it turning itself off. Bugger. Flat battery. Oh well, time to put in a spare. Except that one of the spares is flat, and the other one isn't there. Bugger. I put it in Roger's bag when we went sand-boarding, and never got it back. And Roger is way further up the dune than me at the moment. Nearly howling audibly with anguish, I stumble on up the dune to where the rest of the group are gathered, searching frantically for Roger and Chiara as the light grows brighter on the Eastern horizon. And then, having found them, discover that Roger doesn't have his bag with him. It's not even on the truck. It's back in the camp at Sesriem. Bugger bugger bugger! We're out in one of the most photogenic landscapes on the planet, and my camera is basically dead. Aaaargh! Eventually, I remember that I have a disposable 35mm camera in my daypack (purchased for those times when even I'm not daft enough to take my digicam out...), and manage to get some shots. I still don't know how they turned out, though, as the film hasn't been developed yet!!

Oh, and by this point my feet are not merely sore, but also rapidly going numb, standing in very cold sand (joys of the desert - it's totally bloody freezing at night...). After a short while to appreciate the beauty of the sunrise and the majesty of the ensuing view, it's time to make tracks back down the dune. Literally. I think all of our group made it down the main approach again (admittedly with much whooping and jumping), but some idiots from other groups on the dune just charged down the pristine faces of the dune, which seemed just a bit childish - there's a certain stark majesty to the sand dunes there, and a line of footprints running down the side just seems to desecrate it somehow. I know that when more sand blows over, it'll just get wiped away, but it just feels kind of disrespectful to the place.

Anyways, when we got back down it was to be greeted by two sights: first was Paul applying the finishing touches to a massive fried breakfast; the second was another (northbound) Acacia truck, laying out the chairs and tables for a champagne breakfast. We'd been trumped. Dammit. That said, once we were tucking into our brekkie, it was widely agreed that champagne at 6:30am was not a good thing, and we'd rather be stuffing ourselves with bacon, boerewors (S African "farmer's sausage" - very good) and scrambled eggs. Oh, and defrosting our feet, for those of us who went up barefoot or in socks. Soon enough, though, it was time to move on, heading to the main parking lot out in the middle of the desert, which serves as the base for trips to Sossusvlei itself.

Before arriving at Sossusvlei, Paul had been really selling us on the possibility of doing this walk with a bushman out to the vlei, which would show us all the life in the desert and that kind of thing. Only on arrival did he discover it now cost almost twice as much as he'd thought it did, so he offered to lead a trip through the dunes to another, nearby vlei, the Hidden Vlei. Now here I have to confess to one of the few possible regrets I have from my trip with Acacia - due to my tiredness, the soreness of my feet (which were recovering from some other cuts even before I nearly froze them) and my unwillingness to climb any more bloody dunes, I didn't join most of the others from our truck as they followed Paul. But I also, due to not having got enough cash out last time we were in a town, didn't fork out the 80 Namib dollars (or about 7.50 GBP) for the shuttle vehicle into Sossusvlei itself. Looking back, that's faintly ridiculous - to have come that close to what's regarded as one of the natural wonders of the world, and then stayed in the car park nursing sore feet for want of a few quid in local currency. Bloody stupid. Oh well, I guess I'll have to go back to Namibia some other time to remedy that!

Anyways, after all the morning adventures, we headed back to the camp at Sesriem, where we had an afternoon at leisure. Most of the group used it to chill out by the pool. I used it to resuscitate and then back up my digital camera. I know, I'm a geek, but it needed doing. Then, that afternoon, we had our delayed appointment with Sesriem canyon, which is surprisingly impressive. So much so that we wandered down into it, lost track of time, and came back up to find we'd just missed the sunset again! D'Oh! Then it was back into camp, and dinner time.

But I shall have to break off here, as my time is about to run out, and this entry is (once again) getting stupidly long. Take care and have fun,

Pat