Day 7

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Somehow we are ready to do the next leg by 8:00AM. Bit worried by today's briefing, lots of "be careful of the cut up roads", "don't overcook it in the corners", etc.

Its a beautiful morning, cool and clear out here in the desert. We are off and into a long stage today. Virtually all gravel tracks and many of them in not good condition. But what does that mean? Well, every three months or so you can expect these gravel superhighways to be graded and when freshly done, they are pretty smooth, easy to ride and allow for rapid progress. But over time cars and trucks follow each others' tyre tracks, building up mounds of loose gravel in between. This soft stuff requires courage and commitment to cross over, as the moment you hit it the bike shakes its head and starts snaking. This is bad enough when riding solo and you are stood up on the footrests (which is the smart way to ride off road giving you much greater control), but when you have a pillion on board then you tend to sit down - not much fun for the pillion to stare into your backside all day long.

So several of us scare ourselves quite badly during the day. Noodling along at 120Kph, the tyre track you have comfortable settled into peters out and becomes soft mush. Handlebars suddenly start sawing side to side, front wheel pushing its way sideways through gravel, too late to get to your feet. Massive dump of adrenalin into the system.

These roads are as wide as a motorway, but no central reservation. So you go where the track is firm, whether its on your side of the road or not. Dust is a constant and you learn to read whether the dust in front is coming from a car, truck or bike. Obviously you don't want to get stuck behind a slower vehicle so overtaking is inevitable. This, too, is a challenge. You cannot see through the dust so you are not quite sure how far ahead the car is. Suddenly it looms out of the cloud, closing speed much faster than you thought and you need to pull out to overtake. This involves 1) crossing the previously mentioned mound(s) of soft stuff and 2) hoping there is nothing coming in the opposite direction that you haven't spotted through the fog, and 3) giving the car you are passing enough room so that when he swerves on a gravel mound he doesn't take you out too!

Once alongside, all is fine, so long as you have found yourself in a nice firm track. The temptation to "gas it" must be resisted - spraying the Namibian (of German descent no doubt) farmer's pride and joy with "roost" from your rear tyre is likely to get you into an interesting conversation at the next gas stop as he seeks you out with several of his mates.

This all sounds horrendous, but its actually quite infrequent. Mostly, we are just staggered by the scenery, the enormity of sky and land and vistas. This is not a place where the signs of life are obvious. Its a raw world, as if life hasn't started here yet. Rock formations, flat mountains, multi-coloured soils and huge distances are the most significant impressions. We have intercoms, but they are used infrequently - "look at that!" the exclamation made most often.

Lunch is at Helmeringhousen, bratwurst and salad followed by "the best apple pie in all Namibia", which whilst difficult to confirm or deny, we all agree has a fair shout.

After lunch the road gradually leads us through less arid terrain. We crest yet another hill and the sight revealed to us is Africa as we have imagined it since childhood, rock piles set amongst miles of grassy savannah, distant hazy mountains ringing the horizon . The grass is brown and dry and the smell of hay is everywhere. We see Ostrich, Springbok and Oryx here and there, but not seen a zebra yet (others have). At around 4:00PM we arrive at Le Mirage Desert Lodge and Spa at Sossusvlei, an amazing castle like place, where we are greeted outside with iced towels and a cool drink. We head straight for the spa and an hour's massage - just the ticket. Then a very nice G&T outside overlooking the watering hole they have there to attract wildlife to visit, as the sun sets and the wind blows.

Later that night, after a dinner that include Oryx (very nice meat, highly spiced!), a group of us drink some wine around the firepit (real wood - not gas) whilst Billy plays his harmonica and Charley looks for something suitable to sing along to on his iPhone. The night is still now, stars out in force, the watering hole illuminated, and groups of Oryx and Springbok arrive to tank up. We call it a night before it gets silly.

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