To the Skeleton Coast

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Our journey from Etosha National Park passed through some amazing desert scenery. In fact, excluding the small town of Kamanjab, where we stopped for coffee at a traditional German bakery, and the noticeable absence of large animals along the road, the scenery was about the same as it was in the park. It was late afternoon when we pulled off of the well maintained two lane road and came to a stop at a small, unmarked gate. We were enthusiastically greeted by two dust-covered children and their goats. Our guide shouted a few unrecognizable greetings to the children and they responded with wide smiles and waving hands as they threw the gate open and ushered us into their domain. We drove down the dusty track for a few minutes and then we came to a stop at a second gate next to a tall concrete termite mound. We opened the gate and drove through coming to a stop a short distance away at a huge rocky crag of smooth red boulders - Our guides welcomed us to our home for the evening and we set to work building camp. It was a beautiful, warm day and it was an amazing place for a campsite!

I set my tent up beneath a lovely tree in a hidden recess between the huge rock massif and a few large boulders. I was walking over to help prepare lunch when I heard a girl scream, “SNAKE!” I ran over to where she was and caught a brief glimpse of a long, slender snake as it disappeared into the rocks. By the time I had given up on finding the snake again lunch was just about ready. I was talking to the guide by the food table when we heard someone shout from above us on the rock pile, “We found a cat!” We shouted back, “Lunch is ready”, and began wondering what kind of cat they had seen. It took our companions a few minutes to get down from the rocks and then they walked up to us carrying what looked like a common house cat. What happened next was fairly humorous - The guide and I both gasped and shouted to the man to put the cat down quickly and the rest of the group went up and started petting the cat as if it was someone’s cherished pet! The two of us were alarmed because we both immediately recognized the cat as an African Wildcat, not a cuddly little pussycat, and realized the potential danger the animal posed to the group - I had seen an African wildcat sitting atop its huge, recently killed rabbit dinner in Kruger National Park, so they definitely have the capability of ferocity! Luckily, we found out later, the locals had been feeding the animal and it had become very tame and friendly. The group vocally mocked us, insisting that we had no idea of what we were talking about - One of the ladies even had a similar cat at home, only smaller. Of course, when we brought up the fact that the cat was considerably larger than most house cats were and that their precious house cats had to have some relative in the wild animal kingdom, we won some of them over - It took hearing the story of the cat’s taming from the local guide to win over the rest of the group, but some of them remained skeptical to the end! The ‘wild’cat decided to spend lunch with us and he showed us all how adept he had become with the art of begging, turning to violence when his cuteness didn’t work - He dug his claws into my hand once when I decided to eat my food instead of giving it away, but his powers didn’t work on me, Oliver, my dog at home, had trained me well! After lunch we cleaned up and loaded into the bus, saying farewell to our feline friend - We were going to see “A very special place” that was nearby.

The special place that we were told about turned out to be an amazing house built among a giant pile of boulders similar to the bluff next to our camp. The house was built by a French movie producer who was staying on the ranch during the filming of a movie. He had used all natural materials and opted not to alter the rock itself. The resulting ‘Swiss Family Robinson’ style home (without the tree, of course) was amazing! From the ground the house didn’t look like anything more than a cool house, but a short climb up a set of stairs changed all of that. Inside, if it could be called that, was spacious with lots of natural and milled wood. The main part of the house had two bedrooms and a huge sitting area and was furnished with a lot of comfortable furniture and local décor. The roof covered the entire area, but there were only walls on three sides. Down one set of stairs there was a huge kitchen area and down another there was a small pool. A covered, open-air ramp led up to another large, well appointed bedroom built near the top of the rock pile. There was an attached bathroom down a small passage between the rocks and there was another walkway that disappeared into the boulders behind the room. The walkway split into three different paths snaking their way around and over the boulders to three different ‘porches’, one on the top of the rocks with impressive views in every direction, one on the back of the rock pile, which was unfinished, and another through a tunnel-like opening between the boulders to a huge wooden platform shaded from the sun. The view through every window (and the toilet) was impressive and the house looked like a place that would be as enjoyable in a huge rainstorm as it would be in the sun. The house had everything that my dream house would have, except maybe a modern kitchen and a hot tub. The movie producers are long gone and the house was being used by the local Himba tribe as an R&R retreat. We were told that there were plans to turn the home into a high end bed and breakfast type lodge in the future. None of us wanted to return back to our tents at camp after seeing such luxury, but we still had a lot to do before the sun went down.

We were given an hour to explore around camp before our next activity, which was going to be a tour of the local Himba village, so I headed out into the bush looking for animals. I walked through the golden, knee-high grass and the twisted trees for a while. It was perfect snake habitat and the temperature was right, but, as is usually the case, there were no snakes to be found. In fact, excluding a few old burrows that looked to have been dug by an aardvark and the curled up, sun-bleached shells of a few giant (and deceased) millipedes, there were no signs of animals anywhere. I decided to climb up the rocks instead of continuing the search, which ended up being a lot of fun. Our local guide, Jaco, arrived promptly at the appointed time and he explained the particulars about the Himba village we were about to visit. I am not normally a fan of ‘cultural’ experiences like the one we were embarking on. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy learning about different cultures and lifestyles, but most of the time they turn out to be shows set up for tourists instead of authentic experiences. We were all assured that the Oase Himba village, located on the farm, was an authentically operating and traditional Himba village and that what we were about to see didn’t change when ‘tourists’ were not around - We also learned that the women residing in the village earned a certain amount of money for every tourist group that came through, so, while they were not a ‘for tourists’ village, they did earn a good living by embracing tourism, which was good to hear. We walked across the farm for about ten minutes to where the village was located - The Himba people are traditionally nomadic and apparently they even maintained that tradition on the farm, though the village seemed fairly permanent. We passed a few large cows, waving to the children that were tending to them, and then we arrived at an opening in the tall, natural wood fence that encircled the village.

We were greeted by an ancient lady and her newly-wed daughter and a young man that was presumably the young lady’s husband. Both of the women were dressed in the traditional Himba attire, which was a skirt-like loin cloth made from wide strips of brown leather. Several bracelets of various materials adorned their ankles and wrists and they wore a few necklaces and other details made of beads. Their hair was done in the traditional manner, as well, with long, red ochre caked hair extensions that looked somewhat like dreadlocks packed with clay - We were told that the clay they used helped them to maintain their hairs’ natural oils, or something like that, in the harsh desert environment and it was considered a thing of beauty reserved only for married women. The rest of their bodies were exposed, but covered in a uniform layer of an oily red ochre paste that gave their natural skin color a lovely red-orange tint and served to protect them from the desert environment as well. While the ladies were all dressed traditionally the only Himba man I met was wearing only a t-shirt. We were also told that in order for the Himba people to properly speak their language they had to remove their lower front teeth.

We spent over an hour walking around the village. It was a scene right out of National Geographic Magazine - Mud and stick huts, goats and chickens roaming freely, cooking fires and traditionally dressed villagers. The only things out of place were the plastic water containers, a big blue tarp covering one of the huts and the deplorable abundance of plastic grocery bags that seemed to be growing from the trees in great numbers. I was not all that comfortable taking pictures of the villagers, but it quickly became apparent that it was expected of us to do so and that they enjoyed seeing their faces on the camera screens - The children especially loved to see themselves on the screen and were doing everything in their power to get us to take their pictures. Laughing and smiles were the only language we shared, but we were still able to communicate very well - It is amazing how far a smile will go in the world. We were talking to a group of three ladies, using Jaco as an interpreter. I was standing at the back of the group listening when the subject of marriage came up - Instead of answering the question one of the ladies singled me out and pointed to me and said a few words, motioning me towards her. Jaco said, with a smile, that she wanted to shake my hand, which I did, and the rest of the group started laughing - Later, back at camp, they all made fun of me saying that all it took was a hand shake to be married, but, as far as I know, I am still single. We finished talking to the three ladies and moved on to the chief’s hut. Apparently the chief wasn’t spending a lot of time at the village, so the hut was being used as a demonstration hut to teach tourists about the Himba home. It was a circular, windowless hut with a single wood column holding up the roof at the center point. There was a small, animal hide bed and several ceremonial items, some of which were very old, and a cloth door. We were joined by one of the Himba women who demonstrated the use of several of the items and then showed us how they ‘bathed’ without using up their precious water supply. Since they live in the arid desert where water is scarce they bathe by burning a special mixture of herbs, sitting in the smoke, and then they reapply the red ochre paste - I can remember several times over the last few years where I had to ‘clean’ my laundry in the smoke of a campfire, so I was able to relate. The sun had already disappeared behind the trees when we said farewell to the Himba people and started walking back to camp. I was glad to have spent time in the village learning about the Himba people, but I had a hard time looking past the ‘for tourist’ feel that hung over the village - I suppose that any cultural experience would have the same feel, though, unless you were actually living with them for a long time and learning by experience.

Dinner was already cooking when we got back to camp. We were told that it would be ready in an hour, so we all went our own ways. Some people showered (the advent of wells had made water more readily available there), some people took a nap and I climbed up the rocks and found a cool ledge high above my tent that had excellent views of the surrounding landscape and from there I watched the sun set over the Skeleton Coast. After dinner I set off into the wilds again, but there were no animals to see anywhere. I returned to my tent and drifted off to sleep.

The following morning started early. We had a lot of ground to cover, so we quickly took apart camp and ate breakfast and then we were on our way. The road was in great shape, so we made good time getting to Khorixas, the capital of the region. We were there only to get gas and to stock up on snacks for the day. It was a busy gas station with lots of interesting characters coming and going, so our brief stop made for some great people watching. The most unusual, or out of place, people we saw were two Himba women and their children who were dressed traditionally and were hitchhiking their way towards the north where the largest populations of Himba people can be found - The encounter really opened my eyes and added a lot or realness to the previous day’s village tour, which was great! We drove on, leaving all signs of civilization behind us. We were entering Damaraland, one of Namibia’s most remote and stunningly beautiful desert landscapes. We were surrounded by a sweeping vista of reddish, craggy mountains and bluffs and large expanses of sparsely vegetated, sandy valleys. The feeling of remoteness was complete. At times the utter emptiness would give way to a few seemingly misplaced buildings, but they were quickly forgotten again. We came to a stop at one of those clusters of buildings. At first I thought it was just going to be a bathroom stop, but a sign on the main building read, “Petrified Forest Geological Site” - We had made it to our first stop.

The Petrified Forest was one of those ‘bonus sites’ that I got to visit because I had joined the tour, but would not likely have seen otherwise. I was not sure what to expect when I walked up to the lady who was to be our official guide, but I was definitely looking forward to stretching my legs for a while. We got a quick history of the site from our guide and then we walked off into the desert behind the visitor’s center. Ahead of us, the ground gently sloped up towards a steep, sheer-walled mountain. The desert around us had lots of scrubby brush, but just about everything was brown. There was one leafy plant, the Welwitschia, which seemed to glow a radiant green against the brown landscape - We were told that the plants, which were fairly common in the area, were very special, because they had been alive for over two-thousand years and in that time they had adapted well to surviving in the scorching desert environment. A short distance down the trail we came to our first petrified wood - Three sections of trunk were exposed and the grain of the wood and the tree’s rings were all easily discernible, of course, counting the rings gave me an age far younger than the tree’s actual age of over 250 million years! We continued walking, passing several small sections of petrified wood, and then we came to a stop at one of the most impressive ancient trees I have ever seen. The tree was lying on its side with about twenty feet of it exposed. It looked as if the tree, which had a diameter of a few feet, had fallen only a few years ago - The bark, the wood grain, even the knots were all visible and perfectly detailed, which deceived our eyes into thinking that it was actually wood! Our guide explained how the trees were deposited in a flood of some sort and were quickly buried in the silica-rich ground, out of reach of the oxygen needed to decompose them. Though we were told that some trees on the site were up to thirty meters long, our tour ended with the big tree we had found - I suppose we had to limit our time at the Petrified Forest in order to fit in the remaining two places we were going to visit that day. We walked back to the bus and we were on our way again.

We made another quick stop later that morning at a roadside crystal stand where several ladies wearing extremely colorful traditional dresses, complete with huge hats, were weaving little dolls and such to sell to tourists. I wasn’t real interested in the dolls, so I perused the tables full of crystals that had been dug up in the area - Apparently Damaraland is famous for its rock crystals, but I ended up leaving without buying one. It was nearing lunch time when we turned to the right and drove down a dirt road through a narrow valley between two huge red bluffs. We came to a stop at a unique visitor’s center at the end of the road - We had arrived at Twyfelfontien, one of the main reasons I joined the tour.

Twyfelfontien is a site famous for huge quantities of Bushman rock engravings. The valley that the site is located in would have been worth visiting even if the engravings weren’t there, because it was an amazingly scenic desert landscape encircled by red bluffs - According to our guide, they even found a group of rare desert lions there a few years ago. We walked up to the visitor’s center, which was both a work of art and an ingenious recycling project: The structural walls of the building were made using flag stones held together with chain-link fence and the roof was gracefully formed out of fifty-five gallon oil drums that had been cut up and assembled in a way that resembled a wavy, seashell design (similar to a Spanish tile roof) - It was magnificent! We met our guide and set off into the boulder field that lined the base of the cliffs. Many of the large boulders had surreal, wind-eroded shapes and most of the larger ones had pictographs carved into their ancient faces. We wound our way around and between the huge boulders, occasionally stopping to admire a small lizard or a bird. After about five minutes we reached the heart of the petroglyphs and our guide started pointing out all of the different carvings. Lions and kudu and giraffes were all represented as were several geometric patterns. Some of the carvings were oriented in such a way to suggest that the rock they had been carved into had fallen sometime since they were made by the Bushmen around 4000 B.C. We walked from one amazing frieze to the next. Sometimes it was the shape of the weathered rock and not the petroglyphs that made us stop and take a look. Towards the end of the tour we came to a rock face that had an interesting set of stylized human footprints carved into the vertical surface - It was neat to see, because I had seen a similar set of stone-carved footprints near El Fuerte in Mexico. We walked back through the stunning landscape to the visitor’s center, stopping to explore the ruins of an old house along the trail. We ate lunch beneath the corrugated oil-drum roof of the visitor’s center and then we were on our way again.

Our next destination was a long way away. We drove for a few hours through the rugged, cliff lined valleys. Occasionally we would come across the tell-tale signs of a large group of desert elephants that lived in the area, but we never saw them. We did, however, find a small group of desert ostriches, which was a little surprising. The landscape slowly changed from rocky bluffs to rolling desert hills and finally to flat desert. In the distance we could see an enormous, craggy massif rising up out of the flat desert. Our guide pointed to the tallest peak and said, “Brandberg Mountain.” We were staring at the tallest mountain in Namibia, rising 2573 meters above sea level. We would be camping near the huge mountain that night, but our main reason for the visit was not the mountain, as grand as it was, but the world famous ‘White Lady’ Bushman rock paintings. The paintings were located a long way down one of the majestic valleys of the Brandberg massif and we had a long walk to get to them. We arrived at the visitor center and found a guide and then we set off at once. Our guide told us to keep an eye on the surrounding cliffs and mentioned that, if we were lucky, we may get to see one of the Brandberg’s many leopards. He also told us to watch out for snakes, especially the huge puff adders and a few varieties of cobras. I was excited by the possibility of seeing leopards and cobras, but the rest of the group wasn’t too thrilled. The guide chastised me a few times for not keeping up with the excessive speed that the rest of the group wanted to walk, but I completely ignored him, choosing to enjoy the gently sloping trail and the majestic scenery of the narrow, sheer-walled canyon we were in - There were a few other stragglers as well, so I wasn’t the only rebel! It took us about an hour to reach the group of rocks that concealed the rock paintings and it seemed that my slow pace had paid off for me, because I saw lots of small animals and even the tracks of a huge snake (probably a puff adder) in the sand and we all ended up waiting for the group in front of us to vacate the painting site anyway (only one group at a time was allowed in there.)

We left our bags in a pile and walked into the huge boulder pile, stopping at a dimly lit overhanging rock with a handrail and a drip guard that protected a large panel of beautiful monochrome and multi-colored paintings of hunting scenes. There was a large group of oryx beautifully painted in brown and white. Some of the oryx had human legs and our guide said that it meant that the Bushmen had worn oryx skin to sneak up on the live animals. The white lady was actually a man carrying a bow and arrow hunting the oryx - Apparently when the paintings were first discovered he was taken to be a woman, thus the name. It was clear that the area was an important Bushman ceremonial site, but it was difficult to come up with an age - Most of the experts believe the paintings are around four to six thousand years old, but many believe them to be an astonishing twenty-thousand or more years old (I read both dates in published literature in the area!) Regardless of how old they were it was an amazing set of rock paintings, but it was heartbreaking to see every member of my group blasting the pigments away with their flashes - It was the first ancient site I have visited that allowed flash photography when pigments were involved (it is well known that the high-intensity flash degrades many of the pigments used in ancient and modern art, but perhaps the paints used there were not affected by them). I waited for all of the flashes to stop and then I did my photo session using my tripod - They are better pictures that way anyway. Just before we began our walk back I climbed up on a huge pile of rocks nearby and took in the sweeping, green valley and the sheer gray cliffs surrounding it. In the distance the huge, triangular peak of Brandberg Mountain rose above it all - It was a beautiful place!

The walk back was fairly uneventful. The sun had left the valley, so I was not really concentrating on taking pictures and, instead, I was just enjoying the scene. The rest of the group seemed to be in an even bigger hurry. The problem was that there was an older lady in the group who was clearly exhausted and had slowed to a pace that was difficult for even me to follow. Everyone else had grown annoyed with the lady’s repeated goofy and absentminded questions, many of which the guide had answered only seconds before she asked them, so they wanted to put as much distance between them and her as they could. I was of a similar mindset as them, but I couldn’t leave the exhausted lady walking by herself, completely oblivious to her surroundings - Especially in leopard country! We arrived about fifteen minutes after the rest of the group had reached the parking area and it seemed that our absence had worried everyone, because one of them had been sent back down the trail to see what had happened to us! At camp that night the lady thanked me for not leaving her on the trail.

The camp we used that night was amazing! Not because of spectacular scenery like the previous evening’s camp, but because of the amazing forest of massive trees it was located in. The owner of the camp area was a very friendly guy. We first stopped at his house to check in and he came into the bus and introduced us to his pet meerkat, Carlos, and he mentioned that Carlos had a habit of visiting the campsites at night. We drove into the thick trees of the camping area and quickly set up the tents in a big arc around the cooking fire and then we got cleaned up and started preparing dinner. After our wonderful meal I was sitting in my tent getting ready for a local dance presentation to start when I heard some strange rustling coming from behind me in the tent. I cautiously shined my flashlight at the noise and there, near the opening of my backpack, was Carlos looking back at me with a mischievous look in his eyes! It was slightly startling at first, but all I could do was laugh as the excited meerkat bounded into my lap. I picked him up and carried him over towards the fire where the rest of the group was. Our guide was not at all surprised to see the meerkat and he showed us how he liked to be held and scratched - Carlos was in heaven, getting all of the attention he wanted. It was odd, but I was one of only three or four people in the group that Carlos would allow to hold him - He would scream in everyone else’s hands. We played with Carlos until the dancing started. We were all forced to participate in the traditional dances, but they were not too difficult and it was a lot of fun. During the last dance Carlos got excited and started digging huge holes in the ground all over the dance floor. It looked like he was having a lot of fun, so I joined him and together we made a few huge craters in the sandy soil. Of course, being a meerkat with huge digging claws on his hands, Carlos was far more efficient than I was, but I still got to dig a hole with a meerkat - An experience I never knew I wanted! I walked around camp later that night and I got excited when I heard a large crashing noise coming from the trees. Had I found an elephant? Maybe a leopard? I quietly walked around a tree and past a bush, being cautious not to startle whatever animal it was. I positioned myself behind a large tree and then I shined my light in the direction of the noise. The beam of my flashlight illuminated an animal I was not expecting to find, a donkey! It turned out that there was a whole herd of them in the clearing on the other side of the trees - Oh Well!

The following day was a big one for me. We were headed to the legendary Skeleton Coast, a desolate and forbidding stretch of gloomy coastline that has claimed countless ships and spawned countless maritime legends in its mysterious fog. It was a place I had wanted to visit for years and my day had finally come. The huge Brandberg massif with its lofty peaks and beautiful green canyons was shrinking into oblivion behind us. Ahead of us stretched a featureless gravel plain that swept around us in a seemingly endless expanse. It was a beautiful day, but the giant, gray fog bank that rose up from the gravel like a tidal wave and blotted out the horizon in front of us made it clear that the blue skies and sunshine would not last. We watched as the mysterious mist got closer and closer and then engulfed us in its gloomy, gray shroud - We had reached the Skeleton Coast!

When we reached the coast we turned north and followed the salt-sealed coastal road into the unknown. The fog wasn’t thick enough to conceal the lofty dunes that rose up on either side of us, but we were only granted occasional views of the pounding surf of the mighty South Atlantic. After about a half hour of driving we turned off of the road and followed a new one towards the ocean. A few moments later we passed through a lovely stone gate that was decorated with the forms of huge fur seals and then we stopped at the visitor’s center for the Cape Cross Seal Colony. Before we were let off of the bus our guide told us that many of the jackals that inhabited the colony were rabid and that we should be very cautious around them. The visitor’s center had several exhibits on the area, including several different whale bones that were on display - The Skeleton Coast got its name from the sheer quantity of whale and seal bones that littered its remote beaches during the whaling days. We also learned that the name referred to the likely fate of the sailors that were stranded on its desolate shores - It was a long, long walk across seemingly boundless desert to reach the nearest help and, due to the currents, once you landed on the beach it was nearly impossible to get off again. There were several old and decaying buildings around us which added an air of historical mystery, but in the distance a shiny, new resort lodge helped to bring us back to modern times. We all loaded back into the bus and drove a short distance down the dirt road where we reached a cross, or a padrao, and a carved rock that marked the location of Cape Cross, the spot where Diogo Cao, a fifteenth century Portuguese explorer, made landfall in 1485. The granite padrao (cross) that is located on site is a beautiful reproduction of the original, which had been moved to a museum, and presumably the beautifully carved boulder on the ground in front of it shows the English translation of the Portuguese text that flows around the cross, ‘Cape Cross. In the year 6685 after the creation of the world and 1485 after the birth of Christ, the brilliant far-sighted King John II of Portugal ordered Diogo Cao, knight of his court, to discover this land and to erect this padrao here.’ A short walk from the cross led me to the massive cape fur seal colony, which at certain times of year contains as many as 100,000 fur seals - I didn’t take the time to count them, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the colony was at full capacity when we visited. The familiar sights and sounds and the overwhelmingly pungent odor reminded me of my amazing experiences in the Antarctic and on South Georgia Island, but the seals at Cape Cross didn’t seem as aggressive as their Antarctic brethren. The entire rocky cape stretched out before me and it seemed like every patch of open ground was covered with the playful little seals. The wild Atlantic surf was pounding the rocks, sending explosive, white plumes of saltwater high into the air, yet the seals were still out playing in the greenish waves. I don’t know if it was the smell or the chilly, damp air, but very few of my companions stuck around to watch the seals frolic and fight. I found a nice place along the stone wall that delineated the colony from the parking area and I stood and watched the amazing spectacle of life that was happening all around me. There were big, tough males roaring and belching as they fought for dominance and the admiration of the ladies and there were suckling pups and playful youths, there were large gulls and prowling jackals, some sporting lovely radio tracking collars, the pounding thunder of the surf and the overpowering smell of life - It was an amazing place! I was standing next to one of the leaders of the tour and we were discussing the amazing spectacle in front of us - It was clear that he had not seen Cape Cross before and he was looking on whole scene like an enthusiastic child. As we talked a booming roar came from our left side where a group of seals had breached the wall and were lounging in the parking area. The roar was coming from a young seal who had decided to charge us - My friend immediately took off running for his life, but I wanted to see if the cape fur seals were as aggressive as their southern kin, so I turned and faced the charging beast. As I suspected, the little guy stopped short and just stared at me, barking and belching with a puppy-like smile on his face - The seal was happy, I was happy and my friend was, well, astonished, as if he had just witnessed me stand my ground against a charging lion! We were the last two stragglers at the colony and it was clear that the rest of the group was ready to go, so we walked back to the bus and headed down the coast.

We were headed southbound along the coastal road. It seemed like the coastal gloom was pulling back a bit, because the surf was nearly always visible to our right. From time to time a lonely town of colorful, pastel painted buildings would appear out of the mist, clashing with the gray desolation, but most of the coastline was barren and deserted. The lunch hour was coming to a close when we spotted a huge mass of buildings ahead of us. A few moments later the barren coast was gone and the lovely coastal city of Swakopmund was surrounding us. We did a quick, orienting drive around town and then we headed to our accommodations for the night. After a quick lunch we all set off in our own directions to explore the town. For me it was the last day of the tour. I had planned all along to stay in Swakopmund for a while and enjoy the mysteries of the Skeleton Coast, so I needed to find a place to stay and locate the internet. I quickly found a nice hostel and they had plenty of room. I also discovered that the internet café was excellent, possibly the best I had found in Africa to that point, so everything I needed was there. I spent a little time getting reconnected with the world and then I continued exploring. There were several amazing colonial buildings and lots of interesting shops, so I knew I would have an enjoyable stay there - I even ran into a few friends that I had met at the hostel at Windhoek. I walked along the coast for a little while and then I found my way back to the lodge we were staying at. Later that evening the whole group got together for one last meal together. We chose the Lighthouse Pub, which was one of the nicer restaurants in town and we all had a wonderful time talking about the fun times we shared on the tour. There were several interesting things on the menu, but one of them caught my eye and the lion in me couldn’t resist - My massive oryx steak was by far one of the best cuts of meat I have ever enjoyed! After dinner we all headed back to the lodge. Some of us went to sleep, but several members of the group decided to go out on the town.

We said farewell over breakfast the next morning and then the five of us that were remaining in Swakopmund waved to the bus and our friends as they drove away. The tour was over and despite my complaining and my adamant dislike of organized tours, I had a lot of fun and I couldn’t have traveled with nicer people - I am glad I went along! I made dinner plans with one of the couples from the tour and then I hoisted my backpack and set off towards the hostel. I spent my first day in Swakopmund relaxing with a cup of coffee and a book - I even took in a (very bad) movie. It was a wonderful day made even better when the mysterious coast, known for its foggy shores, cast away its gloomy shroud and the sunshine and blue skies came to stay. I met my friends from the tour, a couple from Holland, for dinner at the Tug, which was a fancy restaurant built inside of a tug boat that had run aground years before - It was a fancy place with an amazing maritime atmosphere and we had a wonderful meal. We ended up sharing a table with a German couple that had been on the tour with us, which was a pleasant surprise.

I spent the next week relaxing and enjoying the coastal splendors and the unseasonably wonderful weather of Swakopmund. The town was a lot smaller than Windhoek and it was a fairly pleasant place to explore on foot. I visited the Crystal Gallery, which contained an amazing array of stunning natural crystals that could be found in Namibia, including the largest quartz crystal ever found, which towered well above my head and was about the size of a small car. I visited the Desert Snake Park where I got well acquainted with many of Southern Africa’s most deadly snakes, including the black mamba and the cape cobra and several others, which was an amazing experience. In addition to my exploring, most of my days in Swakopmund involved a long sit at a coffee shop reading and watching the people walk by and a bit of time in front of the computer trying to get the blog caught up.

One of the most important things to come out of my stay on the Skeleton Coast was a new plan. My original plan of traveling overland all the way to Cairo was losing its appeal. I have always been close to my family and I was looking forward to spending Christmas at home, which meant that I would have to move a lot quicker than I would have liked to get to Cairo by December. I had also been getting the urges to explore a bit of the Middle East, which my current plan would not have allowed. My first ‘new plan’ had me traveling through Botswana and Zambia and then flying up to Egypt and traveling overland to Turkey. That plan was scrapped when I discovered that it would have cost me about the same amount of money to fly from Southern Africa to Ireland, where my parents would be vacationing, and then on to Istanbul as it would have cost me to fly straight to Egypt, so I changed the plan to include Ireland and Turkey and then I would fly home from Jordan - The new plan made a lot more sense, because it would allow me to see my parents in Ireland as well as Ramazan in Turkey and I would not be arriving in Egypt in July (hot), but in October. I purchased my plane tickets and then I arranged a van ride back to Windhoek for the following day - I still had a lot to see in Africa!

I spent my last day on the Skeleton Coast walking through the sand dunes to the south of town. I walked along the coast until I found a shipwreck, which was special since it had the unique distinction of being the newest shipwreck on the coast famous for shipwrecks - It was a large fishing boat that had broken its moorings and run aground about eight months before. I walked inland and crossed the coastal road and then I walked back to town through the larger dunes there - It was an amazing day! The following morning I piled into a tiny van packed beyond capacity and we set off into the desert. The ride was fairly uneventful, but there was one classic moment that really highlighted Namibia’s dedication to protecting their environment - We were driving down the road at the usual pace (too fast) when a Chinese man rolled down the window and threw his plastic bag out on the side of the road. The driver slammed on his breaks and skidded to a stop, while screaming to the man, “No, Nooo, Noooo China! That may be OK where you come from, but not here! This is Namibia not China! We don’t like trash on the road! We like our landscape to be clean!” The only thing that would have made it better was if the driver had made the man pick up the trash, but he did not.

I decided to stay in one of the better known hostels in Windhoek, instead of my favorite one. I was hoping to put together a group to rent a vehicle and drive through Botswana, because I had been having a hard time finding any reliable public transport. I bumped into two old friends at the hostel. One was a good friend from the tour who was on his way home. The other friend was the guy working for the bark Europa in Cape Town that had struggled to get my visa for South Africa when I arrived without an onward plane ticket - I was very surprised to run into him there, because since we had last talked in South Africa he had traveled all over the world and had just returned. I spent a few days trying to get a group together, but it didn’t work out, so I decided to take the bus through the Caprivi Strip into Zambia instead of heading into Botswana. I had to wait two days to get the bus, because it was fairly busy, so I ended up spending the 4th of July in town.

I was planning to spend the 4th quietly in the hostel. I was one of maybe three Americans staying there, but several of my friends, including many of the people I had met at the other hostel several weeks before, wouldn’t take no for an answer and they dragged me out to a poetry/music presentation called the ‘Spoken Word’ that many of the intellectuals in town put on once a month. I am not much of a night person, so I was fairly hesitant when they asked me to go, but I am glad I did. The presenters performed an amazing array of poetry and songs, some happy and fun, others very angry, most were very forward looking and all were very well done. The show would have been at home on any university campus anywhere in the world - It was a wonderful surprise. After the show ended we all walked down town to El Cubano, which was a cool little place that blasted wonderful Cuban music and served as the chosen hangout for Windhoek’s expat community. We all sat and talked under the club’s dim lights and eclectic décor for quite a while, but it started getting late and we decided to head back to the hostel. There were a total of seven of us walking together through the well-lit streets, so it was a bit surprising when I heard the rapid patter of running feet and then felt a forceful tug on my arm. The man pulling on my arm started asking for money and, as I always do, I said no. I expected him to produce a weapon next and demand money, but he only got it half right - He tugged on my arm even more and demanded money. I said no again and his grip got even tighter, so I did a fairly forceful sweep of my arm, which broke his grip and then I walked away shouting something silly like, “Stay!” The unfortunate man had a dumbfounded look on his face as we walked away that said, “I can’t believe that didn’t work!” I have heard of begging and I have heard of muggings, but that experience was a mix of the two - I think I will call it forceful begging. It was an odd experience regardless of what I call it! We made it back to the hostel without any more adventures and we all said goodnight.

My bus was scheduled to leave the next evening, so I had the entire day to explore Windhoek one last time. I walked past all of my favorite places, stopping for an extra long time to admire the life-sized kudu statue that rose like a green sentinel over the city’s main intersection. I ran into my friends from Holland near a shopping mall and we said a few final farewells. I also found a giant used book store, which was a very good thing, because I had been carrying four books with me and three and a half of them I had already read. I picked up some snacks and I made enough water for the long journey and then I took my seat on the bus and prepared for my departure from Namibia. I enjoyed my time in Namibia. I got to see most of what I had hoped to see, but there is still a lot more I want to see. I will have to return some day when I have a larger budget, so I can drive around at my own pace and get lost in the more remote corners of the desert - Namibia is a country that is truly blessed with natural splendors and amazing landscapes. Now I am Livingstone bound!

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Photos

I Am Tough!
I would presume this was one of the dominant males in the sea of seals.

Take A Picture Of Me!
These kids loved to see their faces on the screens of the cameras, so they did everything they could to draw the attention of our cameras.

Mystery Science Theater
Or should this be called Mystery Archaeological Theater?

The African Wildcat
This is the cat that my friend brought down from the rocky bluff thinking it was a lost house cat.

House Cat? I Think Not!
He was friendly, but potentially dangerous - I know, he does look like a house cat.

Interesting Decorations
This is one of the local decorations inside of the 'special' house.

A Hidden Toilet
This was the odd bathroom for the master suite in the special house.

A Path Through the Rocks
This was the walkway that led to the hidden porch on the side of the huge rock-pile home.

An Amazing Home
This was the main sitting area for the main part of the house. Note the open wall and the lovely wood work.

On the Balcony
Another view from the amazing house.

The Wilds of Africa
This was one of the beautiful pieces of art in the rock house.

The Rock House
From the ground you can't see the amazing features of the house very well.

The Himba Man
He was clearly not happy that the tourists were there, but I don't really blame him.

That is Me!
Even the young kids enjoyed the cameras.

The Village
This is the Oase Himba Village.

The Blue Tarp and the Cloth Door.
The blue tarp didn't really match the village decor, but I suppose it did its job.

Home Sweet Home
The huts were fairly spacious inside, but very simple.

Taking a Bath
As part of the cultural demonstration inside of the chief's hut, this lady showed us their method of taking a waterless bath.

Cerimonial Objects
These were a few of many different cerimonial objects located in the hut.

The Rings of a 250 Million Year Old Tree
No there are not 250 million rings, the tree is petrified.

The Large Tree
This is the most impressive stone tree I have ever seen.

The Large Tree (2)
Another view of the massive tree.

Is it Wood or Stone?
The fine details of the ancient wood have been preserved in stone.

Baboons
These guys were all Over the rocks at the Twyfelfontien Bushman rock art site.

A Lizard
I almost missed this guy.

The Amazing Bushman Rock Art
These carvings were all over the place at Twyfelfontien.

Bushman Rock Engravings
Note the lion.

The Lovely Canyon
The rock art was located in a picturesque canyon of red stone.

A Little Bird
This little guy stopped and posed for the picture.

The Amazing Visitor's Center
The people who built the Twyfelfontien Visitor's Center made a work of art out of old, rusty oil drums - I loved it.

Waves in the Desert
A detail of the oil drum roof.

Another View
For the bathroom area they used the tops of the drums as scale-like plating.

Into the Brandberg Massif
This is the valley we walked down to find the 'White Lady' rock painting.

A Colorful Lizard
I was chastised by the guide for stopping to take this picture.

The White Lady Rock Paintings
This was an impressive rock painting site that dates between 4000 and 20,000 years old depending on which book you read.

A Man in Oryx Clothing
This picture shows an oryx with human legs, which likely means the man was sneaking up on the oryx wearing an oryx skin.

The White Lady
She (he) is in there somewhere.

Me and Carlos
Carlos the Meerkat was a lot of fun to play with - I was one of the only people he would allow to hold.

I Feel Like I am Back Home in Georgia!
We found this monster truck at one of the gas stops we made on the way to the Skeleton Coast.

Comments

[Kate in Africa]

I love your pictures of the children. It makes me miss the shouts of "Toubab! Photo!"

[Mercurycatcher]

Footsteps!
I will be following in your footsteps to Namibia very soon.I only hope I have as equally amazing experiences as you have obviously had.By the way....any message for your Himba "wife" that you left behind?