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Published: February 13th 2009
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Quiver Tree
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Keetmanshoop Karma
Keetmanshoop, Namibia
February 13, 2009
As we drove north a few days after a hassle-free entry across the border into Namibia, we decided to take a lunch break in the shade on the side of the road. We pulled over and got some food out of the cooler.
“I smell diesel,” Sarah said as we unpacked the cooler.
With too much confidence, considering our past problems with the truck, I didn’t even think about what she had said. But then, before I even realized it, it hit me -- both the smell and then the sight. There, coming from the diesel tank, was a steady drip. This one, mocking us in all its glory, dripped faster than the one from a month ago.
”How could that be” I yelled aloud. I crouched down for a closer look. Yep, there it was -- another leak in the fuel tank. But, before I could let the anger fill me up, something else caught my eye.
“How could THAT be,” I yelled even louder. “We have a flat tire too!”
“It must be karma. What did we say? Did we say something to upset the Land
Land Rover Shop
One of Namibia's biggest Land Rover shops. Leopards frequent the hills just outside the barn door...
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Rover gods?” I said, speaking to no one in particular. (The Land Rover gods were obviously ignoring my pleas, but either way we’ll be more careful with what we say in the future.)
We moved quickly, or so we thought. We knew we needed to get the truck to the closest town to get the tank looked at before we lost all of our fuel. We plugged the flat and grabbed the air compressor. We had the flat fixed and the tire inflated in no time. (About 1 hour. This number is relevant as you will soon find out. - Ed.) We turned the car around and headed for Keetmanshoop, the biggest town in southern Namibia with a population of about 5,000.
Much to our surprise, the first sign as you enter Keetmanshoop offers auto and 4x4 repairs, “tyre” fix, 24-hour towing etc. Surely, they would understand our plight. Right away we were greeted by the owner’s son. Considering our past experience with the tank, he suggested a new tank, rather than a weld job. We agreed. After a phone call to a friend in unintelligible Afrikaans, he explained to us there was a brand new tank waiting
Namibian Contrasts
A Striking Contrast Between the Young and the Old (Car is old. Sarah is young. Fyi.)
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for us at the Land Rover parts dealer, which happened to be about an hour’s drive out to a farm in a desolate canyon. We agreed to go with him for the ride to make sure we were getting what we were about to pay for. At the farm, we were greeted by an older man, who was southern Namibia’s unofficial official certified Land Rover parts dealer. Mr. Strauss, of German descent, was the country’s Land Rover expert - or at least the expert in the southern half Namibia. He had an old colonial look to him - knee-high khaki socks and a safari-like shirt. His farm, which was more of a barn in the desert than an actual farm, was an eclectic place for sure: Land Rovers and Land Rover parts were everywhere, license plates from all over the world were plastered all over his barn, leopards, he said, roamed the hills nearby. Strauss, who was raised on the farm, told us a story about the first time he drove a truck - when he was six years old. He spoke of a more difficult life, a bygone era: drilling bore holes for water for weeks at a time,
Warning!
The left hand doesn't know what the right hand. Er, wait, what? (Photo credit: Sarah Taylor)
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cattle ranching in the waterless desert. We listened intently, but were more focused on the large, shiny metal object that sat in the middle of the barn-- a brand new fuel tank, shipped in from the U.K. from Land Rover. We exchanged some money, grabbed the tank and headed back to town.
Back at the mechanic's, in no time at all, the new tank was put in. Our diesel, about a third of a tank, was funneled back into the truck. There were no leaks. We agreed to come back the next day to have a gasket looked at. The next morning, we filled up with fuel and headed back to the mechanic. We pulled in and the owner’s son gave us a friendly wave. His smile quickly turned to a frown as one of his mechanic’s began looking under the truck. I got out of the Land Rover and there, before my eyes, was a sad but familiar sight - a drip coming from the diesel tank.
”How could this be?” I asked to no one in particular. Sarah said the same thing.
A team of mechanics took over and pulled the fuel system apart. Again.
Gemsbok in the Dune
A Gemsbok in the Sossusvlei Dunes
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In the process of putting on the new tank the mechanics had broken a screw, which prevented a proper seal on one of the gaskets. When the mechanic took out a hot soldering iron and a welder - with the acrid smell of diesel fumes in the air - I knew it was time to step away. I let them do their stuff. I couldn’t watch.
Five hours and $400 later - we were on our way. The tank had been welded and replaced and there were no leaks. I was still skeptical. We told the owner and his son we might be back, considering our luck. The owner, happy to see us off, gave me the worst fake smile I’ve ever seen.
We spent the next few days in and around the coastal town of Luderitz, originally a Portuguese stop along the coast. But today and the previous 100 years or so it more closely resembles Germany. Locals, both black and white, speak German (as well as many other languages). Supermarkets sell German mustard and sausages and pastries. The town sits up against Namibia’s diamond mining area, which fuels the local economy, even though most of
Kolmanskoppe Ghost Town
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the diamond mining is a few hundred kilometers south of Luderitz. The deserted ghost town of Kolmanskoppe, a former diamond town, sits 10 kilometers outside of Luderitz. Just one morning in this amazing town was worth all of our car troubles.
After Luderitz, we headed north to Sossusvlei, Namibia’s famous red sand dunes. Sossusvlei and the Namib Desert are one of the hottest and driest areas on earth. It’s an inhospitable place but it’s worth a visit - even in the middle of the summer - because the scenery is breathtaking. The red dunes go on for miles and are said to be the highest in the world. The contrast between their color and the bright blue sky is like nothing I’ve ever seen.
But strangely, on our way to Sossusvlei, there was a slight drizzle coming from the sky. It was hotter than hell, but some rain still managed to make its way down to us before evaporating.
”My toes are getting wet,” I said aloud.
”Mine too,” Sarah said.
When things like this happen, the layman might say that the doors to the truck were leaking. But when we find little quirks in our Land Rover, we prefer to say “it has character.” We laughed it off. But then, something drew my attention away from our wet feet. The truck made a funny swerve on the gravel road. I knew what it meant. We had another flat tire!
We pulled over and began what had become a familiar routine, this time in the rain. Unload the truck, find the plugs, the air compressor, the wheel wrench, the jack etc. Thankfully, we had it fixed in no time (45 minutes. They are getting faster. - Ed.)
In addition to the flat tire, our visit to the dunes was delayed by the rain. I never took the “Flash flood” signs I’d seen on the side of the road seriously, until now. The slight drizzle we were experiencing must had been a downpour further upstream because what is normally a dry riverbed, was five feet deep with a torrent of water, mud, sand and trees. We waited more than five hours for the water to drop and then made our way across the riverbed and into the dunes.
It was worth the wait and the troubles, even though I’ve lost track of the number of flat tires and fuel tank problems we’ve had.
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Arwen Kettering
non-member comment
The Dream
Well Alex, Your certainly living the dream now! Your tales are great, your pictures are inspiring. Thanks for sharing your journey with the rest of us living the monotonous existence in babylon. Of course, you know you are making us all rather envious!