Last Hurrah A mere 205k trip in our trusty truck takes us to our last campsite in Namibia on the banks of the Orange river. We've made it. Tomorrow we will cross the boarder into South Africa a far different country, far more developed, organized, populated, industrialized. We'll be back on the grid. Driving toward our camp on the Orange River the dusty flat desert suddenly gives way to mile after mile of vivid green fields, so symmetrical and uniform in appearance it could only be big business, organized farming on a massive scale. Suddenly next to the road, born of dust and grit, made of dried reeds from the river bank, as far as the eye can see is the housing of the farm workers. Such dire poverty, no amenities, even their water is not
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