Our Travel Blog

Another pretty long drive; we entered the park through the southern, Andersson Gate. En route to our self-catering chalet (basic, but comfortable) in Halali camp, we were amazed by the sheer numbers of the casually loping wildlife (zebras, giraffe, jackals, ostriches, and of course hordes of springbok). It was strangely quiet at camp, despite this being “almost high season”, perhaps more so because we decided to make our own dinner of barbecued steaks, salad, and Gin and Tonic. On a whim, after dinner, we walked to the floodlit watering hole in the camp (Moringa), to find at least 6 rhinos and a massive elephant sharing the water. Rhinos came and went, and at one point a lone hyena also made a showing (hyenas are usually pack animals, but apparently occasional “misbehaving” member can be ousted from the group). The “politics” around the watering hole was very interesting. It was obvious that the elephant has the run of the place. As he lumbered over to the freshwater source (it’s an artificial watering hole maintained by the park), the rhinos slinked away very slowly and kept their distance. There were occasional grunts and vocalizations amongst the various groups of rhinos (never more than 2 in a group) and what looked like signs of aggression, though it never came to a tussle.

We got up before sunrise for our morning game drive with the NWR guide, and found that it was to be a private ride (guess no one else wanted to get up this early). As the sun came up, we could almost feel the animals getting started with their day. At our first watering hole (Rietfontein) we found a male kudu that appears to have died in the water the night before, and a male lion which seemed oblivious to this boon on the other side of the pond (to be fair, there was a small island that may have blocked the view). The three jackals skittishly circling the watering hole, on the other hand, were painfully aware of the tasty morsels they could be treated to, but dared not approach the kudu before the lion either got his paws on it or walked away. After feasting our eyes on the lion and the jackals (as well as African jacanas and kori bustard), we took off to another watering hole (Charitsaub), where we encountered three lionesses with two sets of cubs contemplating a run at the herd of zebras nearby. When we got back to the original watering hole, the male lion had finally “discovered” the dead kudu and was busy dragging it out of the water onto the island. It was incredible to witness how strong this animal really is, dragging a carcass that must weigh two or three times its own weight. Highly satisfied with these sightings, we rested for the remainder of the day inside the chalet, avoiding the worst of the midday heat.

Evening game drive started out really slow (more people joined us for this one). Because it was dark by the time we started, the guide/driver resorted to waving a red light back and forth across his field of vision to spot any reflections of eyes looking back at him. I’m amazed that he can spot anything this way. At one point, we all noticed a noise and movement next to the vehicle, and when the guide shined his light in that direction, found a fully grown rhino running at full speed right next to us. We followed him for what seemed at least a kilometer before he veered away and galloped away to whatever it is he was looking for. We had given up hope of any more exciting sightings (other than seeing a honey badger dig for and chomping on a snack) and was heading back to the camp when someone excitedly chirped on the radio. Our driver immediately turned the vehicle around and went back to Charitsaub, where we located the same family of lions we had seen earlier in the day. While we were gawking at them, one of the cubs became frisky and “pounced” on his mom and aunt and started a playful wresting bout. Amazing.

On our way out of Etosha, we did our own “self drive safari”, headed to the von Lindquist gate. At Goas, the traffic literally ground to a halt waiting for hundreds of zebras, springboks, impalas and kudu cross the road to the watering hole, joining the birds and elephants that were already slaking their thirst. We spotted red hartebeest, gemsbok (oryx), herds of wildebeests and steenboks and too many hornbills to count along the way, and arrived at Etosha Aoba Lodge just outside of the gate by mid afternoon. There, we found the elusive dik dik, the smallest of the antelopes, as well as mongoose even before check-in. During our evening drive on Aoba’s property, we were treated to a sighting of mother cheetah, munching on a fresh kill of impala while her two cubs affectionately and thoroughly each others’ face. Soon after, we found another cheetah with cubs (older), then a male red crested Korhaan, in full mating plumage, doing the mating dance in hopes of impressing a lady. Unfortunately for him, she was not in the mood.

We scooted directly from the desert tour for Camp Kipwe, near where the desert elephants roam, and it was another pretty long drive; we arrived a bit after sundown, right as dinner was being served. Pretty hot here, and it doesn’t cool down that much at night! Early start (5:45 alarm) for the morning tour, where we saw about twenty or so desert elephants and a series of birds as well. Desert elephants are smaller than their cousins, with longer legs and proportionally larger feet to help them walk in the soft sand. They have to walk a long way every few days to get to the scarce watering holes to survive in this arid place (and definitely not enough water to spray on themselves or puddles to waddle in). The hotel is a pretty deluxe place, with a tiny swimming pool built into the rocks with absolutely freezing water, and a nice spot for sundowners.

On our way to Brandburg White Lady Lodge, we went to Twyfelfontein to see the famous rock art of the San people (petroglyphs mostly). Here we were met by the surliest receptionist. She was so rude that we almost left without seeing the rock art. But we decided to go anyway, which allowed us an encounter with our least interested tour guide yet. It turns out, the government has given the concession to the local tribe to employ them, which guarantees jobs for them (in a country with upwards of 30% unemployment). The rock art is about 30 minute walk from the reception desk, and visitors are not allowed to walk without a guide. Thus the very disengaged, uninformative guide. A shame, really. We would have loved to learn a lot more about how and why these petroglyphs got here.

We next stayed at the unpretentious White Lady Lodge (best dinner time traditional singing yet!), and were able to see rock art with much less surly workers and less disinterested guides. We liked our little cabin and the entire place quite a bit. We also met members of a group tour; the younger ones on the camping option and the older Americans on the accommodated one. Several of the latter are members of a Virginia Beach travel group, and it sounds like they do quite a lot of interesting things, particularly for their ages of about 70 or so. And we heard another shoutout for OAT – Overseas Adventure Travel. One talkative traveler mentioned a series of trips, including other African ones, with OAT that apparently include more historical and cultural aspects in their trips than the one they were currently on in Namibia. He gave two thumbs up.

Another few days of catching up on trip planning, the internet, and so forth, in an Oceanside Airbnb. Rather dicey getting the dual-cab Hilux in the garage!We joined a kayak tour (fun, with hundreds of playful seal pups frolicking around our kayaks) and the next day Tommy’s Living Desert Tour. This was one of the best tours during our travels; they show you all the living things in what initially looks like a barren desert. The main point is conservation, as most of these animals live or breed or are otherwise dependent on a very small area of land where the sand dunes meet the gravel plain. It’s easy to do serious damage by driving a 4×4 on it, but takes years or decades to repair. We heard our guide Charlene’s story – she was one of the people who, in her youth, drove her Volkswagen all over the place, unknowingly doing much damage, until she met Tommy (the owner of this guiding service and the originator of this kind of tour), who took her on a tour for free. She was hooked, and determined then and there to eventually become a guide for Tommy. She’s been with Tommy’s company for six years now. We also met Tommy, a committed Christian and all around good guy, at the end of the trip. For various reasons, mostly health, next season may be his last.

In Luderitz we took it easy, eating at the same Portuguese seafood restaurant two of the three nights, trip planning with the very good internet at our funky place. We had a two bed two bath place with a kitchen and living room, almost an entire floor of one of the oldest building in the town. It was nice to spread out and relax. Three nights is too long there though; in fact if we were to skip one place in Namibia, this would probably be it. In fact, the only “tourist” thing we did was to drive out to Diaz Point, which was bleak in the stiff winds and. But it might be worth a detour for the haircut, 100 Namibian dollars (about US $7).

Sossusvlei

We stayed at Desert Quiver Camp, associated with Sossusvlei Lodge, where we ate all of our meals. Food at the restaurant, which consisted of extensive buffets for both breakfast and dinner was very good, especially the grilled game option (ostrich, kudu, oryx, springbok).

We got up at crack of dawn, so that we can see the dunes in morning light. This meant breakfast at 6am. There were two cars ahead of us that stopped at the park gate, as we turned in to Sossusvlei Lodge for breakfast. When we were finished with our breakfast, those two cars were still parked at the same spot, as the gate does not open until sunrise. There are no proper words to describe how beautiful the morning light plays on the red dunes. Wind started to pick up as well, kicking up the sand in fine mist like layer, which made it look ethereal. We climbed Big Daddy, which was tough going, as our bare legs were being sandblasted by the stiff wind blowing sand across the top. There had been a line of people ahead of us as we were hiking. When we got to the top of the Dune, however, we found ourselves utterly alone. Where did all those people get to? I was a bit concerned about taking the direct route off the Dune, with thoughts of avalanches on snow flashing in my head. Eventually, though, we imitated others running down the face of the Dune and made it off the Dune in no time. Each step caused the foot to sink into the super soft sand and caused a deep trombone like of noise, as the sand gets compacted under our feet. The descent was exhilarating, and reminded us of perfect powder days on ski slopes. It was pretty amusing, though, to see how much sand accumulated in our sneakers when we finally took them off at the bottom of the Dune. We had descended onto Deadvlei, which is a salt pan with a grove of dead trees sticking out of it in an eerie/artsy fashion. I spent the rest of the afternoon napping.

Another long drive, to the second largest canyon in the world (after Grand Canyon). Fish River Lodge is perched at the edge of the canyon. The grand, dramatic view greets the guests through floor to ceiling glass windows, as they walk into the reception area. This Lodge is the only one in the park itself, and thus has an exclusive concession for hiking in the canyon. Each of the rooms is a separate structure, set at the edge of the canyon, fully exposed to the fearsome winds that often rip through (on check in, guests are handed earplugs). We really appreciated that each unit was angled to maximize privacy. We felt as though we had the whole canyon to ourselves as we sat down to a glass of South African Pinot Noir on our deck to watch the sun set over the canyon.

We had never done “slackpacking” before, and had no real expectations for the 3 nights of camping in the Fish River Canyon (also organized by the Fish River Lodge), other than good scenery and exercise. As we descended into the canyon, rock hopping over huge boulders, we were treated to some phenomenal views and really interesting, incredible rock formations. The real treat, however, was when we walked into camp (set up by our crew, consisting of the chef, assistant chef, and a mechanic/jack-of-all-trades). Our sleeping tent was tall enough to stand in, and had 2 cots with real sheets and blankets. A bathroom tent, with a sit down toilet, as well as shower tent with a plastic reservoir of hot water suddenly made the whole experience feel extremely luxurious. Candles in paper bags weighted down with gravel lit the path from our tent to the dinner table, set under the stars, next to a bonfire. To boot, a three course meal was served on real china, with “all inclusive” gin and tonic, beer and wine. We hiked about 15km per day or so daily, and after passing the lunch spot and watering hole (swim!) that is used for a half-day 4×4 tour from the lodge, we never saw anyone else in the canyon.

This experience prompted discussions (we have had these before) about the term “luxury”. It seemed to us that this term is used in at least two different ways; most commonly for those things advertised in glossy airline magazines such as expensive watches, clothing, hotels. We don’t think that most of these things would bring joy to us in the way they must to those who buy them. We have used the term luxury to describe what we imagine is an analogous feeling, right here on this camping trip, and at some other times such as when we watched whales breaching in the Pacific Ocean from our (ex!) back yard in Yachats, drinking a tasty bottle of wine. Both share the term “luxury”, but because the experiences seem so different to us, we thought it right to divide luxury into “Type A” (glossy) and “Type B” (Yachats). We are still discussing what exactly these two types have in common (pleasure?) and what separates them (maybe public v private?), but we decided that this camping trip is a really good example of luxury type B.

Our guide, Lukas, used to track black rhinos for a living. He pointed out the tracks of the various animals that come down to the pools of water (fish river flows only in rainy season; it was mostly rocky and sandy riverbed with occasional pools of water on our hike), which made for an interesting picture of life in the canyon. He intimated that zebras were often sighted at a particular spot, and through the next few days, kept mentioning zebra scat, track, etc as if the canyon is teeming with zebras. Though we did see the remains of a long deceased zebra, we did not see even one on our hike, and it became a running joke that Lukas is spinning a fairy tale of sorts re: the diversity of life in the canyon. To our amazement, though, on our drive out of the canyon, we saw a family of mountain zebras (mom, dad, baby), as well as ostriches, kudus and klipspringers.

Our flight was delayed by several hours. This was an issue, as we expected the drive to Mariental to take more than 3 hours, and the delay was going to force us to drive at night (dangerous proposition in Namibia, where the antelope are known to bound over the roads and critters bed down on the warm tarmac and gravel for the night). On arrival, we were super efficient. Seong picked two local SIM cards, as T-Mobile does not cover Namibia (a first for us, except Ethiopia, which has a bizarre state controlled telecom system), while Jamie picked up the Toyota Hilux DC 4×4, our trusted steed for the next few weeks. We finally arrived at the Gondwana Kalahari Anib Resort well past dusk, just as the dinner buffet was to start. We feasted sitting out on the deck, under the wide open African skies, looking out at the flood lit watering hole, watching the skittish springboks come and go warily. The next morning surprised us with amazing stiff winds throughout the day, which quieted down by the time we did our “sundowner” safari. We were driven through the red sands through Gondwana’s private concession, photographing ostriches, springbok, elands, hartebeests and a lone kori bustard (a huge, gangly, weird but distinctive bird). We spied electric bikes with fat tires parked by the reception, and the next day did a sunrise bike ride through the trail systems at the lodge, scaring up the springboks and other critters that were getting started with their day. On to Fish River Canyon.

Pretty hot in Namibian desert, even in fall (May), but also extremely dry and there is often a wind, so it’s tolerable to pleasant in the shade. They had received almost no rain over the recent “rainy season”, which just ended in April, and very little for the previous five years. We were told that this might be the reason that it was hotter than normal – no rain to cool things off. In any case, I’m glad we didn’t arrive in Namibia any earlier, as it would have been significantly hotter. It’s sort of shoulder season now, and tourism doesn’t really get into high gear until June.

Our rental car shimmied severely at certain speeds, making driving debilitating. After multiple hours of attempting contact with Hertz in Windhoek over sketchy cell connection, we were able to arrange to have the front end aligned in Keetmanshoop, on our way to Fish River Canyon. While the car was getting worked on, we opted to explore what there is to see in town and ran into some roadside vendors selling tasty smelling grilled meat. The vendor weighed the lamb chop, announcing 20 Namibian dollars (about $1.50). After a second glance at the scale, the price went up to 40. A block and a half later, after I had a chance to ponder how tasty the meat is, did we realize that we never got change for the 50 dollar bill we handed him. Ah well.