Day 11. Walvis Bay
We’d set the alarm for 6am because we had to be out and ready by 6:30 if we wanted to catch the dunes during sunrise.
It was perhaps one of the best places we'd stayed in, a
luxurious bungalow amidst beautiful hills and pristine
surroundings.
The short drive back to the entry gates of the park filled us
with excitement. For me at least, getting to the dunes at
Sossusvlei was a huge milestone, we've made it to the centre of
Namibia. After purchasing the entry permit we started the
drive.
The long tarred road winds its way through a valley, bulging
hills guard the road to the left and right while the long shadows
slowly creep along the ground. Off in the distance we could
see hot air balloons starting their climb to catch a glimpse of the
dunes from the air.
It was quite spectacular when we saw our first red dune - a
massive wall of red sand with a razor sharp edge which snaked its
way up towards the sky. Convoys of cars filled with
photographers would pull over to the side, where their massive
lenses snapped up every inch of the landscape.
The dunes start after forty or so kilometres along the road and
one of the most accessible ones is at the 45th km, which
is where it gets its name, Dune 45. This is where most cars
stopped and many people could be seen starting the climb towards
the top. We decided to drive right to the end of the road,
where the bitumen turns to sand and is only accessible with a
4x4.
Some seventy kilometres after the entry gate, we came to the end
of the tarred road. Here we engaged the 4WD and continued
further on soft sand. The road winds and forks many times,
but its quite hard to get lost because the track is sandwiched
between the dunes, eventually we arrived in Deadvlei - the end of
the track and home to the big dune and a dried up pan.
We parked the car and had breakfast while enjoying the bird
songs and relative isolation which was only disturbed by passing
cars. In the distance tiny specs could be seen climbing the
dune. They were making slow progress but soon enough we would
get our chance too. Packing up the breakfast gear we put on
our shoes and walked closer in the direction of the dune.
After about 1km we came to a fork in the trail, one leading up
towards the top of the dune, and the other to the large dried up
pan. By that stage we'd already taken off our shoes and were
progressing barefoot. The sand felt cool under our feet and I
could imagine it getting rather warm in full sunlight because of
its dark red colour. We made slow progress up towards the
top, occasionally stopping to take a photo and take in the
breathtaking views and total silence. Even the wind here
seemed quiet.
We were amazed to find a tiny plant high up on the dune and it
makes you wonder what the dunes look like after a bit of
rain. If a lonely plant can survive in a total waterless
environment, then surely the whole area must turn into a sea of
green.
We saw large beetles running up and down the length of the
dunes, we couldn't believe how quickly they could travel along the
dune, there was no way we could keep up with them, certainly not
over a long distance. They were tough too, every now and then
we'd accidentally step on one and they would get stuck between our
toes. Ann-Marie hated them because they would seek her feet
out more often than not, and it wasn't easy keeping your balance on
the tip of the dune whilst dodging beetles.
The air was dry and the combination of the dark red sand and the
sun felt as though we were being heated from above and below.
The sun was starting to rise towards its zenith and the
moisture was being sucked out of our bodies - we made frequent
drink stops.
The dune is over 300m high, and with the limited traction our
feet generated, it took a good hour and a half to get to the
top. There we sat, rested and enjoyed the red dunes as far as
we could see. Down below, we could see the perfectly formed
oval shape of the dried up pan.
The days here turn from cold morning to hot day in a very short
time and the sun was starting to beat down very hard. We
decided to make the steep descent directly into the pan, rather
than backtracking along the ridge.
I decided to run down the dune in a straight line directly
towards the pan. My feet sank deep into the sand and made a
rumbling sound, as a wave of sand propelled by my momentum slid
down in front of me.
Ann-Marie had other ideas about the method of descent. She
lay down on her side and rolled down, but she built up so much
speed down the steep slope that keeping control became impossible
and uncomfortable. In the end she too descended upright.
The surface of the pan was rock hard and had the feel of white
clay. The cracked pattern formed the basic consistency of the
surface, but it was quite smooth to walk on barefoot.
Actually it was much cooler to walk on than the red sand.
Towards the centre of the pan we could see the black petrified
trees. These have been here for hundreds of years and looked
like something out of this world. Their black colour looked
striking against the white pan and the red sand. The
sun was quite harsh and we didn't stay long. Everybody else
had already left and we were the only ones on the plateau.
Back at the car we cooled off with some water, changed clothes
and started the drive back to the park entrance. From here on
we drive towards Walvis Bay. It was going to be a long drive
and we might just make it by nightfall.
For the first time, we've both had the pleasure of driving
through the Tropic of Capricorn, sometimes called the southern
tropic, which lies at 23° 26' 22" south of the Equator. The
Tropic of Capricorn marks the most southerly latitude at which the
sun can appear directly overhead at noon. This event occurs
at the December solstice, when the southern hemisphere is titled
towards the sun to its maximum extent.
After a few hours driving north west, the terrain changed once
again. Gone were the large spiky outcrops, only to be
replaced by rolling hills and small canyons which cut their way
deep into the hills. This caused the narrow road to duck and
weave from one hill to the next, slowing down our progress.
Before long, we were driving into the setting sun, which made
driving even more difficult. The terrain changed too, we were
back in dry desert country - it seemed that the closer we got to
the sea the drier and more desolate the terrain became.
Driving conditions got even worse once the sun set because the
almost white gravel road reflected the headlights and made
distinguishing the road from the surroundings very difficult.
Our speed dropped down to 60km/hr and I was frequently switching
back between low and high beams to get some sort of indication
whether we're still on the road. Ann-Marie was looking to the
left and I to the right, not only trying to find the contours of
the road but also watching out for any animals.
It was perhaps the most exhausting day's drive thus far.
You could imagine how glad we were and the smiles on our faces when
we finally saw the sprawling lights of Walvis Bay. Once back
in civilisation we found a small caravan park, put up the tent and
started making a fire.
After a long day like that a bottle of wine with dinner would go
down splendidly, however in Namibia you can't purchase any alcohol
on a Sunday. We didn't feel like cooking and the lady at
reception said that there were a few places that delivered. I
ordered a pizza and Ann-Marie a salad. We still wanted that
bottle of wine of course.
With our tent already up, we couldn't drive around the town to
make our own purchase. When the delivery guy drove up, I
asked him if he could help us obtain some of that contraband
substance. I left Ann-Marie tending the fire while I jumped
in his car. We tried a number of establishments; he seemed to
be on friendly terms with lots of the ladies working at
supermarkets. Nevertheless his relationships with them didn't
make obtaining the bottle of wine any easier. Eventually we
found a shop that didn't have any camera systems installed and I
was able to pick out a bottle and give the girl something extra for
taking the risk.
On the way back he told me that he is pure Herero and that his
family still lives a traditional life some hundred kilometres north
of Walvis Bay - he was very proud of that, and rightly so.
Traditional ways of life should be preserved for future
generations. Of course, progress (or so some call it) makes
little contribution towards cultural diversity and preservation,
particularly when pitted against exploitation of natural
resources. Have we not learnt anything from mistakes of the
past, think of the Native Indians, Australian Aborigines, the Maori
of New Zealand?
By the time we got back I could see that Ann-Marie was worried -
I was probably gone for half an hour, and I couldn't blame her, I
got into a car with a total stranger and left her there in the
empty campsite. I gave the driver a little something for his
trouble too and said goodbye.
We looked up at the stars and I could clearly see the Southern
Cross; the constant marker in the nights sky pointing south.
We could clearly see a sense of accomplishment on each other's
face.
That night by the warm glow of the fire we ate and drank like
royalty.