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Another late morning! Breakfast was served at 08h00, giving us time to take our bags to the truck in time to leave by 09h00. We were ready by 08h45 but as our first stop was a seal colony, we couldn't arrive early.

The day was dawned so differently to the previous day. The sky was blue and there was no wind. It was even warm! This must have been one of the 35 days in the year when the weather was perfect! We took our seats on the bus and headed northwards, out of town, on the C34. Being a C road, it was simply sand. We drove through the desert with little to differentiate the beach and the desert, passed an airfield and a small town, until we eventually arrived at Cape Cross, the largest seal colony in Namibia. Whilst the smell was somewhat overpowering, the ears were also bombarded by the constant noise from the pups looking for their mothers and the mothers bickering amongst themselves. It was amusing to watch the seals sleeping; they used a rock as a pillow but, if unable to find one, rested on each other.

Back in the bus, we retraced our route back to Henties Bay for shopping and lunch. Pretty much the Chav capital of Namibia, almost everyone we saw in the supermarket car park was loading their vehicle with crate after crate of beer.

After lunch, we struck out across the desert towards our camp for the night. Heading inland, the temperature increased dramatically, more so than of late. Lowering the window in order to take a photo only caused warm air to enter the bus, so different to previous days where cooler air was available.

Continuing down ever narrower tracks, we arrived at Spitzkoppen. In the stunning surroundings, we pitched our tents under the towering rocks in a very basic pitch, with no water. The tents were still very damp (or wet) from Sossusvlei but, needless to say, dried very quickly in the intense heat.

With all the tents up, our guide drove us some 10 minutes to a bushman's paradise where, climbing the rock face, we arrived at a secret plateau, lush and green, in which there were some rock paintings. These were painted between 1000 and 6000 years ago and are currently not under protection. Consequently, whilst not vandalised, they are less visible than others in the area.

Colette, one of the French tourists, was unable to see the paintings due to her hip replacement and waited at the bottom of the slope. I ensured I was down first and, in feign enthusiasm, explained, in French, how the colours were still so vivid and how the painting style was reminiscent of Georges Surat or van Gogh. She said she was sorry to have missed seeing them so I showed her a photo - very faint and pale brown. She realised that I'd been pulling her leg and we all laughed, not that she'd been duped, but that she'd been duped so convincingly by an Englishman in her own language. After being made an honorary French citizen, I was now, officially, un mauvais garçon!! That evening, around the camp fire, she retold the story to the others and, whilst we drank our rum and orange, laughed so much that she spilled her drink. A great end to a good day!

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