Back on the road today, as we headed inland, away from the cloudy coast and into the sandy desert.
The morning started off with a few last minute errands in Swakopmund, including a stop at a shoe store that made shoes out of kudu leather, and a visit to a carpet weaving shop. We then hit the road, with a short drive down the coast to Walvis Bay. A port town, Walvis Bay was owned by the British originally, and South Africa was reluctant to hand it over to Namibia at independence, so it only became part of Namibia four years later. Unemployment is a relatively low 10% in Walvis Bay (compared to the 50%+ national average), and it’s one of the busiest ports in Southern Africa. We went to see the flamingos along the lagoon, and also to pick up some brake fluid for the truck.
We stopped at the tourist information centre for a quick pit stop before hitting the road, and it was connected to… a golf pro shop and driving range. Yep, believe it or not, it was a golf course in the middle of the desert. The guys inside the pro shop explained that only the greens and the tees are grass; the rest of the course is basically one giant sand trap. People play there for the novelty factor. I sure wouldn’t want to be the guy who has to go pick up all the lost golf balls in the sand, that’s for sure.
Then, we got into the truck and drove… and drove… and drove. The sealed road ended after the first few minutes, and we bounced around on gravel roads for a few hours. We wound our way up narrow mountain passes, as the landscape got sparse and scrubby. Trees could be found now and again, mostly at the bottom of valleys, but for the most part we saw desert brush only. Namibia goes on for thousands of miles of nothingness. It’s really quite impressive.
We made a quick stop at the Tropic of Capricorn — exiting, not entering, the tropics — to take a photo of the sign. It’s definitely not warm enough to feel tropical here, but there you go. We opted to delay lunch to push onto the small town of Solitaire.
Calling Solitaire a town is a bit of a misnomer. It’s a petrol station, a bar and a shop, essentially. But since it’s the only stopping place in and out of Sossusvlei, it’s a constant hotbed of activity, and some creative people have capitalized on it. For one thing, there are a dozen or so classic cars that are broken down and hollowed out in the sand, by the cactus. For another, an enterprising guy known as Moose (who may or may not be Canadian) started a bakery that sells delicious baked goods, including apple pie that garners rave reviews and lineups. We had lunch in Solitaire and all indulged in baked dessert. Yum.
On the last few kilometers before camp, we heard a loud thud. Rocks had been hitting the windshield on and off, and most of them didn’t do anything worse than ding the truck. But this time, we managed to not only lose fifth and sixth gear, but also to shatter one of the top windows in the truck clean through. We all squashed into the back seats as shards of broken glass began to shower down in the front. We made it to the campsite okay, though. And once we got there, George and Alfeus went to work under the hood, fixing the transmission successfully, and then swept up the broken windshield glass and taped it over with some cardboard. This is Africa. We make do.
The temperature dropped significantly as soon as the sun went down, as we’d expected. It’s cold enough that I can see my breath, and right now I’m staying as close to the fire as possible, since the prospect of climbing into a cold sleeping bag in a freezing tent isn’t too appealing. But we have an early pre-dawn start tomorrow, so it’ll be time to curl up under blankets soon.