Etosha National Park – 13/10/11 - 15/10/11
After a handful of nights sampling the various Backpackers of Windhoek, I boarded a Northbound-soon-to-be-Southbound overland truck headed for the first stop of the Acacia Cape Desert Safari – and brought its number up to a baker’s dozen. Miles upon miles with naught but giant termite mounds to look upon hardly readied the pallet for the feasting of our eyes on the many wonderful animals of Etosha National Park. Over the course of two days’ game drives I saw pretty much the entire cast of I Just Can’t Wait to be King. There were all manner of antelope (including a few old faces from the farm), and birds of every shape and size and colour. We camped at Okaukeujo, beside a floodlit waterhole; a more intimate viewing platform than the truck, and this is where I saw my first lion – an experience not in the least marred even by the DEET fumes rising from every square inch of my exposed skin. My chief fear in the tent both nights was that the (potentially rabid; free-to-roam-the-camp) jackals might like the smell of the Vicks VapoRub on my chest. I feel incredibly blessed to have been an observer here – watching the African wildlife in its natural environment is an experience I struggle now to capture with just words and pictures. Life crowds the waterholes and the shade. I saw elephants bathing, Oryx rutting, ostriches with wings outstretched to shield their chicks from the sun. I saw a “real” Zebra crossing! After Etosha, The Lion King would never be the same movie to me again.
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| My first lion sighting - taking a drink at the flood-lit waterhole by Okaukeujo! |
Spitzkoppe – 15/10/11
Upon leaving Etosha, we strayed off the tour-schedule-path somewhat in paying a visit to a nearby cheetah farm, where we fed the resident cats their… I suppose it must’ve been brunchtime meal! Kudu-on-a-stick. To interact with these beautiful animals was a real highlight for me, and carried a wave of nostalgia and sentimentality as I compared the deed with keeping my own fine felines at home in Felix and treats! Afterwards, we made for Damaraland to spend the night at a bush camp by the Spitzkoppe [bush camp noun a camp with no running water, in which you might get rained on whilst spending a penny], which had a definite Pride Rock thing going on. Nestled at the foot of the bornhardts, we toasted marshmallows over the fire and slept out under the moon and stars, specifically (in my case) under a work-of-engineering involving two brooms, a mop and a mosquito net. My heart still racing from the scaling of one particular monadnock during a hike earlier that afternoon, and after Riann dropped a beetle onto my laptop with a cry of “There’s a bug on your computer!”, I wasn’t about to let a single wayward insect disturb my peace. The place was at once eerie and beautiful by night – almost as I imagine the haunted Dwimorberg of Middle Earth, and I treasured its remoteness.
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| Well-fed Cheetahs! |
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| Our shadows at Spitzkoppe! |
Swakopmund – 16/10/11 - 18/10/11
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| The Skeleton Coast. |
Remember the Nothing described in The NeverEnding Story? Well on our journey to the seaside resort of Swakopmund, I almost believed we’d found it! What it was, in actual fact, was a bank of ocean/desert fog, the breach of which turned our surroundings into a lunar landscape. It was cold, quiet and bleak, and the sight of shipwrecks as we neared the South Atlantic only made things spookier! We had reached the Skeleton Coast. Further South, Swakopmund slowly stole its way into our sights with its colonial German architecture and dusty, palm-lined roads. Here we tasted 48 hours of civilisation – restaurant dining, free Wi-Fi, an en suite dorm with four walls and a ceiling! I even saw my first domestic cat in five weeks. And in the interest of purchasing souvenirs for kith and kin, I tried my hand at haggling! My attempts then and later were not nearly so dismal as Python-Brian's, which I might easily have misguidedly emulated. In fact I drove a hard bargain, though I did so by playing the pity card. …But if it works, it works, right? Inspired by the most stunning alcohol packaging I’d ever laid eyes upon, I also bought myself a take-home bottle of Wild Africa Cream liqueur. It had a furry, leopard-print jumper on. Need I say more? You can even like this on Facebook!
The Desert – 18/10/11 - 19/10/11
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| In the Namib desert. |
From Swakopmund, we continued South through the Namib Desert, skirting the edge of the Naukluft National Park, which was significantly more burnt in appearance than I remembered from my nearly-end-of-shift-day-trip. There had been smoke on the horizon that day though… I came over all nostalgic at the sight of the Gamsberg (as constant a companion during my stay at the farm as the telescopes were, albeit not so close at hand!), and upon re-crossing the Tropic of Capricorn in the opposite direction. We stopped before lunch for a bushman safari, on which we learned how a trapdoor spider keeps his house and secures his meals, how the local flora cope with the limited water supply, and what becomes of a mountain zebra after a run-in with a leopard. (In a grisly case of Here’s One I Made Earlier, we could also make an educated guess as to the fate of its uneaten calves, seeing as the patio table back at base had stripy, black-and-white legs, the likes of which you wouldn’t find even in IKEA!) We met the first, second and third of many dung beetles there, presumably enjoying the shade cast by our truck.
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| A trapdoor spider's trapdoor! |
I revisited the German bakery at Solitaire, this time sharing carrot cake with the finches instead of apple strudel, which along with the resident peacock and peahen invoked fresh home-sickness in reminding me of dear Bradgate Park. (Note to self: well resisted on the pun there, Kate!) We made camp in Sesriem, having explored the canyon on its outskirts, which was to my mind a miniature Samaria Gorge – right down to the little stone pyramids certain of our number made use of for stone-throwing practise! Not to belittle their attempts (why, they were as good as any hobbit’s!), but I can’t say I would wish a similar doom upon the structure mum and I created all those years ago in Crete. A windbreaker fashioned from spare mattresses kept the chill off that night, until at truly-ridiculous o’clock we left to climb Dune 45 at Sossusvlei and watch the sunrise from atop it! A breath-taking, humbling sight, almost worth the terrifying ascent preceding it. What with H.E.S.S. I saw a fair few sunrises in Namibia, but this was the most spectacular. There was almost a Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba! on my lips! We broke our fast on solid ground, after emptying the sand from our trainers (creating our very own mini-dunes in the process.) We were not done with sand for the day, however – for there was still Deadvlei to explore! [lit. “dead marsh” …but I met no Gollum here.] We (that is, Debbie and I) hiked as far as the entrance sign and back (given our 90-minute time allowance) undeniably traversing bona fide desert – it was hard going even with such luxuries as water, sunscreen and other-people’s-footprints-to-walk-in: a vast, unforgiving landscape. By evening (near the village of Bethanie), my hair was grey with sand and dust.
Fish River Canyon – 20/10/11
At last a change of terrain as the tour took us yet further South to Fish River Canyon – the second largest canyon in the world! We occupied our time with the throwing of stones and the making of echoes and the taking of photos (even a foot’s-eye-view of the gorge!). The camp for that night – Ai-Ais – was in the valley itself, and I spent the last of my Namibian dollars relaxing in the hot-springs-heated indoor pools: I felt halfway between a lobster and Harry-Potter-in-the-Prefects’-bathroom.
South Africa – 21/10/11 - 26/10/11
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| A view of Table Mountain from Cape Town |
And so we bid farewell to Namibia – I after over five weeks of calling it home. By noon we had crossed over the border (domestic cat #2 was patrolling it) into South Africa, and begun preparations for a “Christmas” celebration on the banks of the Orange River. That afternoon saw us swimming in it – back to Namibia in fact, technically. Sand- and stick-smuggling aside, with the exception of the (wee) Lin, I don’t think I’d so much as dipped a toe into a river before, so the experience was quite exhilarating. We weren’t caught in our illegality. By nightfall, singing fairy lights had been draped about a convenient tree, and there was punch to drink and secret-Santa gifts to distribute! It was a carefree, click-happy night that ended with an outdoor screening of The Lion King. I fell asleep trying desperately not to think about the dead baboon spider we’d spotted in the bar; whether it had any living relatives thereabouts! Our final night was spent beside a vineyard, and for the third and last time – in tents! This because of the rainfall, which like any self-respecting and instinctive Brit, I foresaw after one look at the clouds. I shared my morning shower with a gecko, and we both enjoyed a beautiful view of the valley below through the window-cum-hole-in-the-wall. The last leg of the trip took us to Cape Town, where we were taken on a township tour of Langa – an eye-opener and no mistake. I had my first taste of maize, somewhat sullied as new culinary experiences go, by my fully expecting mash potato! Later, as the truck drove away, leaving us at a Backpackers in Green Point, my time became my own again – and I had three days to play with before the flight home! One of these I spent touring the Cape Peninsular. I hopped on a boat bound for Seal Island from nearby Hout Bay. There, and in the choppy waters, were a multitude of (you’ll never guess) seals. I visited Simon’s Town to see the penguin colony on Boulders Beach, and from there biked 7km down the road with my nose full of Springtime blossom and the sea. Next stop one of the Cape Point lighthouses – via Funicular – and thereafter a hike along the cliff to the Cape of Good Hope (for the obligatory photograph).
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| die Kaap van Goeie Hoop |
Drinks that night with remaining tour-buddies at Cape Town’s Long Street Café, and dinner (in a cauldron!) at “Mamma’s Africa”, with live music I can only describe as a kind of African opera! Brilliant. My remaining time in Africa dispensed with Science and Adventure in favour of souvenir shopping. More bartering at the market in town, and postcard-buying on the V&A Waterfront. At last the following evening, I left the Southern Hemisphere behind me, and after eleven hours of cat-napping, landed in London (just like the song!) It was raining. Glorious. The view from the coach window as I sped toward Leicester swapped quiver trees and pencil trees for rain-drenched countryside; fairy rings for wind turbines. Such beautiful greens and greys. My homecoming was all I had envisioned; my reunions (parent, sibling and feline alike) a little like the tear-jerking scene from Homeward Bound – but I would go again.
In no particular order…
(New) animals encountered since last post: Lions, cheetahs, jackass penguins, elephants, giraffes, plains and mountain zebra, red hartebeest, kudu, secretary birds, black-faced impala, kori bustards, black rhinoceros, ground squirrels, guinea fowl, wildebeest, bontebok, peacocks, vultures, pale chanting goshawk
(New) animals eaten since last post*: Ostrich, Springbok, Kudu stew!
*…none of them tasted half so good as Oryx though!
The “Big Five” Highlights:
Etosha, feeding the cheetahs, sunrise from Dune 45, swimming in the Gariep, working for H.E.S.S.
Please note, the photos here are ~2% of what my camera captured, so if a picture can tell a thousand words, you’ve not heard the whole story. I refer you to The Lion, the Witch and the High Energy Stereoscopic System on my Facebook page!
It’s like Twoflower said: “You see, last night it occurred to me, I thought, well, the thing is, all this travelling and seeing things is fine but there’s also a lot of fun to be had from having been. You know, sticking all your pictures in a book and remembering things… The important thing about having lots of things to remember is that you’ve got to go somewhere afterwards where you can remember them, you see? You’ve got to stop. You haven’t really been anywhere until you’ve got back home.” – The Light Fantastic
As to the end of my adventure, the Road goes ever on and on – does it not?
