The Wandering Chocoholic

I’ve left South Africa and arrived in Namibia, which, yes, in answer to the multiple questions I’ve received on the subject, is a real country. (In related news, I’m recruiting new friends with better geography knowledge. Just kidding.) Anyway, Namibia, which was known as South West Africa prior to its independence from South Africa in 1990, is one of the most sparsely populated countries in the world, with a population of just over 2 million people living in an area bigger than Texas. It’s also one of the world’s driest countries, with the vast Namib desert stretching through most of the country.

I arrived here in Windhoek yesterday evening, after a pleasant two-hour flight from Cape Town. Air Namibia turned out to be a nice surprise, leaving on time and flying new planes, and even serving a full meal. (Take THAT, North American airlines). When we landed, I was struck by how dark it was everywhere; the Windhoek international airport is about 40 minutes outside the city centre, and with no lights or population around, the area is miles of nothingness.

I’d booked an airport transfer through the hostel that I’d reserved. He met me on schedule and drove me to the backpackers. In all my years of travel, I’ve only hit on a few hostels that have been really lousy, and unfortunately this was one of them. A quick tour through the dirty, noisy, party-atmosphere pit full of 18-year-old school groups told me everything I needed to know, and given that I was feeling feverish and exhausted, I decided I wasn’t going to stay there.

Frustratingly enough, I’d committed the cardinal sin of African travel and arrived at night. This wasn’t by design; my flight was supposed to arrive at lunchtime. But Air Namibia changed its schedule after booking, so evening it was. That left me a bit stuck, seeing as how I hadn’t yet had a chance to visit an ATM for cash, and I’d given the last of my money to the airport transfer guy. I also hadn’t had a chance to get a local SIM card for my phone yet, leaving me unable to phone another hostel or even a taxi. The good news was, the ladies at the front desk were happy to do both for me, when I explained that I wanted a quieter place and a private room instead of a dorm. (Yeah, I know, spoiled brat here, but I’m sick. Sue me.) The bad news was, they fleeced me solidly for it, and I just went along with it because I was too tired to argue. They charged me a night’s stay for the dorm bed I didn’t sleep in, plus forfeiting my deposit, meant that this non-stay cost me more than it did to stay at the really awesome Cape Town hostel. Furthermore, they called their airport driver again, who charged me five times the amount he should have to drive me over to the other hostel. All told, it’s only a matter of 30 or 40 bucks, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Anyway, the new place was okay. Not great, but adequate, and cheap enough for a private room that I could afford it. In fact, it would be a pretty good hostel, if not for the fact that it’s currently occupied by a large group of school kids who are running around screaming at all hours. I was tired and annoyed so I just paid and dumped my bags and went straight to sleep for 12 hours straight. I’m only in Windhoek for a day, I figured, so even if it’s not the warmest of welcomes, it doesn’t matter all that much.

The next morning I was still feeling pretty crummy, feverish and dizzy and exhausted. But such is the life of a backpacker that there are things one needs to get up and do for oneself, sick or not. I dragged myself out of bed, had a cup of tea and some dry toast, and got a map and some directions to the city centre. Windhoek is safer than Cape Town, relatively speaking, but it’s still not great to be walking around alone, particularly at night. By day, it’s more or less okay, and I didn’t have money or a phone to call a cab anyway, so walking it was. It took me about 25 minutes to get to the main shopping area, where my first order of business was to get cash out from an ATM. I bought some replacement shoelaces since one of my laces had broken. I found a mobile shop and bought a SIM card and some credit, so now I’m connected to the world again. I stumbled up and down Independence Avenue looking around a bit until I found a cafe and had some lunch.

All that taken care of, all I really had to do was to find a grocery store to buy some food to cook dinner. There are probably sights and attractions in Windhoek worth seeing, but frankly, all I wanted to do with my one day before my camping safari begins was to spend as much time curled up in bed as possible. I finally located a Pick n’ Pay, which is the local supermarket chain, and bought a few necessities. Then, I stumbled back to the hostel under the glare of the mid-afternoon sun. I spent the rest of the day curled up in blankets on the sofa watching replays of rugby matches, as well as reports of Nelson Mandela’s worsening health, which of course dominate the local news.

Windhoek is not my favourite place so far by any means. It’s a small town that is hilly and needlessly spread out, making it difficult to navigate on foot. I don’t think it’s possible to appreciate neighbourhoods like the Plateau, where everything you need is in walking distance, until you spend some time in cities where not having a car basically leaves a person stranded. The main shopping area seems to be essentially a series of malls, discount stores, fast food restaurants and office buildings, and everything else looks basically like suburbia. Also, for some reason that I can’t discern, a bunch of its streets are named after dictators — Robert Mugabe Avenue, Fidel Castro Street, and so on. But nobody comes to Namibia for Windhoek, anyway. And I’m probably not giving it a fair shake in my current state.

Tomorrow, I head out on a camping safari tour that will take me to a bunch of places around the country. Since WiFi is likely to be limited to nonexistent in most areas, blog updates and email replies may be a bit sporadic for the next few days. I’m super-excited to really see the country. I just hope I’m feeling well enough to enjoy it.