Day: April 8, 2017

The next day consisted of a very long, very hot drive through the ever-changing and gloriously surreal Namibian desert mountains. Wildlife was plentiful in this landscape that appeared to be so dry and barren that it couldn’t possibly support anything. But when we stopped for ‘bushy bushy’ (wee wee breaks) you could read the tracks and spore of many creatures in the dust.

The geology was so varied and puzzling, colours, textures and shapes that seemed truly unbelievable.

That night, under the shade of an enormous social weaver bird colony, Georgie and the rest of the crew saw a cape fox and a jackal who came into the campsite. Damn – I was in the shower and missed them both. The cape fox returned several times to drink from a pool under the campsite tap, but not whilst I was present.

Passing over the Namibian border wasn’t as hard as I expected. There were no armed guards or anyone intimidating, in fact the customs officer actually smiled.

We had started the day canoeing down the Gariep River, with South Africa one one side and Namibia on the other bank. It was a pleasant, although fairly strenuous paddle, from which we emerged tired but satisfied. We had seen some interesting birds along the way, including a pied kingfisher and a sea eagle, plus lots of cormorants.

Then it was a drive over the border and into the wilds of Namibia. It is such a ruggedly beautiful country, dry as chips but also grand and impressive. Fences are not so common so wildlife was far more plentiful. We saw oryx, springbok, mountain zebra, ostrich, a lone warthog, goliath heron, huge social weaver bird nests the size of thatched huts, and a magnificent sun ‘spider’, which is not actually a spider.

The enormous Fish River Canyon was breathtaking on sunset. It is reputed to be the second biggest canyon after the Grand Canyon.  It is massive, an utterly spectacular and awe-inspiring sight, and geologically fascinating – and is Georgie’s new favourite place in the world.  Photographs just cannot do this incredible canyon justice – but the memory of it will be forever imprinted on our minds.

Large scorpion burrows were common in our campsite but unfortunately we never managed to slap eyes on one of the beasties.

We had a bloody early start and drove further north through increasingly dry and stark, but incredibly beautiful mountainous country. Sharp eyed Georgie spotted some springboks on the side of the road.

Eventually, as we neared the Namibian border the mountains took on an other-worldly look. Harsh, dry, rocky with incredible shapes and shadows cast across rugged scree slopes and layered cliffs. Many a photo was taken from out of the bus window.

We were fascinated by what appeared to be ancient branched aloe trees scattered amongst the lower shrubs, some about two metres tall. Our guide, Johnny, described them as quiver trees, each about 100 years old he said.

We arrived at the Gariep (Orange) River and camped amongst more vineyards. The views across the wide river were of the dry Mars-scape mountains of Namibia. Our anticipation for reaching that strange and unique place steadily grew.

It was at that campsite that I saw my very first fifty trillion dollar note! A real one! Mind you, it was Zimbabwean dollars so it was probably only worth about 20 cents.

After a less than private night in a backpacker dorm in Cape Town we (all 13 of us) were taken on a ‘Tour of a Township’. This consisted of being driven to a ramshackle slum settlement, walked down the street (poverty porn) and shown memorials of people killed in the struggle against apartheid.

Then we were taken to a local pub, a smoke blackened shanty where the beer is brewed in big open drums and scooped out into large billy-like tins to be passed around and shared. Granted I have made homebrews that tasted worse – but I threw that muck out! Despite the complete lack of anything that might be described as sanitary I did risk my digestive tract’s equilibrium and took a sip. The next morning I paid for it.  Georgie pretended to sip and smiled politely – she clearly has more sense than me!

After the smoke stained, claustrophobic dimness of that shanty we were then taken to a kind of undercover beer garden where you had to first walk down the clamorous street to buy your stubbies then walk back to where the DJ played the music so loud that two of our group put ear plugs in, and the rest of us just gave up hearing anything anyone said. Then some big plates of meat and sausages were plonked on our table. Using our fingers we all tried some. Yaarrggh! Chilli! Nursing my poor bruised taste buds I opted to drink beer instead. Georgie, however, ate two pieces of somewhat undercooked, chilli soaked chicken, and paid for it later.

After that ordeal we piled into our real tour bus (truck) and set off on our real adventure. We drove through stark, dry country, passing numerous vineyards until we stopped at one very scenic farm, set up camp and settled into a wine tasting. After which I managed to manoeuver a somewhat tiddly Georgie – who is unused to drinkling – back to the camp where we were fed a huge meal. I poured a still giggling Georgie into her sleeping bag and turned off the light.

Shanty pub

Sunset at the vineyard