Namibia Pics

Updates still to come on crossing the Tropic of Capricorn, sunrise on dune 45 and sunset over Fish River Canyon, but in the meantime the pics are up of my incredible Namibian adventures:

NAMIBIA PICS

Enjoy!

Quad biking in Swakop

Ok, a bit of backstory first. A few years ago I was on a friends property in the beautiful Kangaroo Valley with a bunch of friends. When a group of city boys turned up in their designer jeans, cluelessly asking if the families blue heeler dog was a dingo, the country girl in me came out. I jumped on the four wheeler motorbike, saddled one of the boys on the back and proceeded to show him what the country was all about. As we sped through the cow paddocks, dung splattering all over us, I got a bit cocky and decided to take on a jump up ahead. As I flew up the hill over it I was already airborne when I was suddenly struck with dread. There was a fence barely ten feet from the landing! After a hard turn the bike flipped and we were thrown off. I hit the fence and the bike came down on me. Needless to say I was rushed to hospital (an hour away) and spent the next 6 weeks recovering from the breaks and fractures. My companion thankfully landed on the other side of the fence, but really milked his torn groin injury!

Fast forward to the dunes of Swakopmund, the perfect place to confront my fear, as I'd never got back on a quad bike since. I was all bravado as we donned our helmets and chose a bike. The sensible side of me chose the slower automatic option and joined the medium-paced group. There were about six girls in with me and we were assigned to Steve, an instructor I'd had recommended to me at sandboarding that morning. He was soon coined "Sexy Steve" for his adventure-man swagger and cheeky grin flashed under Top Gun aviators. We set off, following single file towards the dunes that would be our playground for the next 2 hours.

But almost immediately the dread set in. My stomach was in knots, my fingers stiff and fused around the handlebars, and my breath panting shallow. The further we went the more the panic set in and I started to realize I wasn't going to be able to do it. The first 20 minutes were ok as it was pretty much straight ahead. But once we got into the dunes and had to start turning up and down them, the fear buried deep from my accident stuck it's hand out of the grave and grabbed me by the throat. I just couldn't turn the bike. No mater how hard I tried my body couldn't overcome the memory. Finally I admitted defeat, flagged down Sexy Steve and announced, in the middle of the desert, that I couldn't go any further.

He handled it like a pro and promptly ask if I wanted to ride on the back of his bike instead. Since it wouldn't involve me having to turn it myself I thought it would be fine. So he radioed the office to get someone to head out and pick up my bike and off we went. Turns out it was one of the best decisions I'd made all trip. Riding with Sexy Steve was a blast!

We sped through the enormous dunes as he did all sorts of amazing tricks. At one point I was dragging my hand through the sand behind the bike as he pulled it back on 2 wheels. Then he'd pull up both side wheels and we'd nearly be lying against the dune. He did wheelies and doughnuts, heading straight up and down the steepest dunes while I squealed with exhilarated fear from behind. I spent the whole time giggling like a schoolgirl with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. When we stopped for water we goofed off even more, taking photos and teasing, as our group looked on laughing.

The most incredible part of the day though was the Roaring Dunes. Deep in the sands of Swakopmund there is natural bowl formation. When we reached it everyone was directed to turn off their bikes and line them up on the rim of this deep pit. As it was very steep a few girls were petrified but bravely went with it. Then, one by one, Steve pushed the silent bikes over the rim with the girls sitting on top. As they slid down slowly the most incredible thing happened. The sound of the sand moving under the quad bikes made a deep, roaring sound which grew louder as each bike joined in. The sound echoed, intensifying almost deafeningly, as it reverberated around the bowl. It sounded like the deep baritone chant of monastery monks, and continued till we reached the bottom. We all looked around at each other in silent disbelief, wondering how we'd never heard of this before. But o course, this is Namibia, where every day and every corner is more amazing than the last.

It was sadly time to head back. Again Steve gave me an incredible ride, even acting as a personal tour guide the whole way. He pointed out Jackal footprints on the dunes, road signs randomly sticking out of the sand, and a horse graveyard housing the skeletons of over 3,000 sick horses, some of the bones still visible. He constantly checked I was ok, and as I held on tight, squealing as we bumped over the sandy moguls, his sweet cologne wafting back occasionally, I most certainly was!

When we got back I'd completely forgotten about the earlier terror and was instead on a high after my exhilarating quad bike adventure - albeit an unconventional one. I turned to my friend after recounting the fabulous adventure and finished "I'm so glad my bike broke down". She fell into hysterics, looked at me point blank and replied "so THAT'S your story!?" ... Oops!

All my love to my furry baby Bear

Xxx

Sandboarding Namibia

The wakeup was abrupt. I barely had time to blink before we were piled on a bus and driven to the base of the 90 metre soft sand dune we'd be boarding for the morning. I was regretting inviting the Mexicans to the party the night before. You know the ones? You're casually enjoying a drink with your mates Jack and Jim and then someone suggests you invite Cuervo. So you let him in, just him, but before you know it there's ten of him tearing up the place and creating quite the mess in the morning. Tequila ... the dreaded gatecrasher!

But the main thing is I'd made it, which is more than I can say for everyone who'd booked and paid. No way was I missing sand boarding on some of the most famous dunes in the world. So I laced up my chunky snowboarding boots, grabbed my snowboard and started the gruelling climb to the top. Despite some similarities, unlike snowboarding there are no chairlifts to take you to the top, or compacted snow to secure your footing when you walk. It's a long, hot, heavy climb up the dune, as your feet sink in half a foot with every step you take, and during which I would have given anything for a blizzard wind-chill factor. But the searing heat and strenuous trudge was of course worth it when you got to the top and saw the view. Absolutely breathtaking! Rolling dunes to the horizon on one side, and the blue ocean on the other. And it was on the top that nature's air-con also kicked in making it quite the spot to lay out and recover.

After you'd caught your breath and the lactic acid had subsided in your legs it was time to strap in and head off. The dune face is quite steep and daunting for first timers, but being a snowboarder helped me a lot. Though the dynamics are heavier in sand than snow, the movements are much the same and I managed to give it a good go. I had some whopping stacks though and ate sand each time. Lucky it's a soft landing. A few brave people also attempted the jump and I'm proud to say it was a fellow Aussie girl who finally landed it.

One of the guides was a champion sandboarder who showed us some amazing tricks, and who'd never seen snow in his life. Imagine what he'd be like on a snowboard!

I really came into my own when the belly boards came out though. Everyone had a few attempts and I'm happy to report I got the fastest speed down the dune - 73kms an hour! Those who know me might agree it was due to the board being aerodynamically top heavy :) Gosh we flew down, becoming airborne as we went over the ridges. You dig your feet into the sand to turn or slow down but I kept mine up the whole way. Can't wait to upload the vid - but still waiting on it to arrive with the rest of the things I posted home.

The company - Alter Action Sandboarding Namibia - were great! They threw in the video for free and we all bought great souvenir t-shirts cheap. As we made our way to the bottom for the last time, utterly exhausted, we were presented with eskis full of cold drinks and scrumptious bread rolls. We ate our fill, scraped the sand out of crevices we could, and boarded the buses for our next stop... Quad biking!

There was a gorgeous dog up on the dunes with us all morning and he made me miss my Harvey. They really are mans best friend and will literally follow you anywhere.

Xxx

Shaking it Swakop Style

After our activities briefing we checked into our cute little A Frame cottages in groups of six. Not only was it nice to have a real bed and a real shower, but I was also sharing with a great group of girls. We'd all spent the afternoon exploring this quaint little German style town with its fabulous shopping and somewhat incongruous architecture for Africa. Most people had bought something new to wear and were glamming it up with hair and makeup and there was a real festiveness in the air as all 24 of us headed out to dinner.

We ate at a great little restaurant with a mostly Italian range from pizza and calzone to deliciously tender springbok medallions. The wine was flowing and the pranks were being pulled and this night was only going to go one way. And so, afterwards it was off to the bar to shake it Swakop style!

While some did shots others danced by the smoke machine, and more again played pool. When we weren't playing pool we were putting the poor guys that dared to challenge us through hell as we used our wiles to distract them! When the music turned more doof doof than dancey it was request time. My tenty was quick off the mark to request Barbie Girl by Aqua and you should have seen us all turning the Botswana Barbie wave into a full flung dance. Needless to say there was some eye rolling from our d-floor neighbours who weren't in on the joke. Funnily enough one girl was there who I'd also seen in Zanzibar, Lake Malawi and Livingstone! But when Waka Waka came on we really went wild.

At one point we started a stage on top of a table and put on quite a show. I think after weeks of camping with mostly Amarula and a fireside song to entertain us, there was some catching up to do. The truly dedicated ended up at the casino for a few last drinks, with little regards for tomorrows consequences, before a lovely local guy drove everyone home on the back of his ute (I'd shotgunned the front!) We'd got to know each other much better that night. Mostly for the better, but some people's cracks were starting to appear - the tour leaders weren't as professional as you'd expect, and one girl in particular had elevated man-clinging to an all new high. I had a feeling this was going to develop. After a late night it was off for a sound nights sleep before an early wakeup for sand boarding in the morning.

Give Harvs a goodnight kiss from me

Xxx

Swakopmund

There really is something for everyone in Africa. Whether you're a music lover, art enthusiast, cuisine connoisseur, bird watcher, big game spotter, camper, glamper, observer or adrenaline junkie, it's all here in Africa. And if you're the latter then Swakopmund is the place for you... all adrenaline all the time.

Now better known as the birthplace of Shiloh Jolie Pitt, Swakop is also to Namibia what Livingstone is to Zambia - the adventure capital of a country otherwise predominantly defined by the visual. Originally it was established as a colonial German port during the darker days of Namibia when Germany and England were still tussling over who would control the country. Swakopmund, however, became redundant when the South Africans eventually took power in 1915, decided the English port at Walvis Bay down south was the superior of the two, relocated all shipping activities there, and essentially left Swakopmund as a ghost town.

By stroke of genius someone realized that the surrounding sand dunes were just as valuable an asset to the town as the ocean lapping it, and so rebranded Swakopmund as an adventure-lovers paradise. Now, if the nightlife doesn't rob you of your daylight hours, you can wake up to a choice of skydiving, sand boarding, quad biking, paragliding, horse riding, whale watching, surfing and many other blood-pumping activities. With just one day to fill I opted for sand boarding and quad biking to really get amongst the dunes.

But first there was the nightlife...

Hugs for Harvey

X

The Seals and the Skeleton Coast

As I made my way from Cairo at the top of Africa to Cape Town at the bottom, today I ticked another milestone. I had crossed from the east coast to the west coast of Africa! From the powdered sandy beaches and warm water of Zanzibar I now reached the salt plains and icy waves of the Skeleton Coast in Namibia. Palm trees and spice plantations were replaced with salt sand deserts and a stark white landscape - and it was absolutely beautiful.

As were were running ahead of time to reach destination Swakopmund, our guides took a surprise detour towards Cape Cross. A quick reference of the lalapalooza (codename for the Lonely Planet) told us we were heading to a massive seal colony and we couldn't have been more excited. We rugged up against the chilly ocean breeze and got off the truck in excited anticipation.

As warned we smelt the seals before we saw them - though it was not nearly as bad as the scaremongers would have you believe. Nothing could have tainted the sight before us when we came over that ridge and were greeted by over 100,000 great huge seals huddled together on an small stretch of beach. And once again my guardian angel delivered - it was baby season!

Every second seal was flanked by a tiny pup. Some were days old, some only hours, as testified by the fresh placentas all over the beach. These tiny pups clung close to their mothers, squealing desperately if they became detached, and the mothers tussled with each other to protect these fragile babies. The ruthlessness of nature was evidenced by the tiny lifeless carcasses dotted all over the sand too, unwittingly crushed by their 3 tone fathers in the commotion.

The sheer number of seals was incredible, and we watched awestruck as they enjoyed every inch of the coastline. Hundreds were body surfing in the waves, thousands sat sunning themselves on the sand, mothers growled and defended every inch of turf they could for their pups, while the fathers shuffled along with their heads held high and mighty. I have never seen such a massive number of creatures concentrated in such a small space in my life, except for human beings!

A few girls from our group who had opted out of the smell had instead walked the beach further up and were amazed by the thousands of bones that littered the sand. Their photos of the whalebones, seal bones, and goodness knows what else were amazing. The Skeleton Coast by name and nature!

As we reboarded the truck and peeled of the clothes that had stolen the stench as a souvenir, we were all a little bit quiet. There's something quite profound about leaving the bustle of cities and human activity and coming to the edge of the world to see creatures thriving in the harshest environments on earth. The brutal and beautiful display of nature takes your breath away and really brings home how fragile we really are.

A decaying shipwreck further up the coast was a graphic reminder of our own fragility, but there was something comforting and almost poetic about the thought that some of the bones on the beach might be human. This graveyard of the sea also reserved a spot for us.

The Skeleton Coast is simply stunning. When you pare back the decoration that the lusciousness of nature of affords most coastlines, you appreciate nature in it's rawest and harshest form.

Life is cyclical for all creatures and we all go from babies to bones in the end.

Big cuddle for my special pup - from his mama seal

Xxx

Traversing Namibia

As we eagerly headed towards the adventure capital of Namibia - Swakopmund - we first had to cross vast desert and salt plains. And even in this seemingly uninhabitable environment there were still signs of life. Every now and then you'd pass a solitary hut manned by the red Himba, or the cow-horned Herero ladies.

We pulled up at one hut and as we piled out of the truck you could feel them brimming with excited anticipation. They proudly showed off their cow horn bangles, traditional necklaces, handmade dolls. Nearby their children played snotty-nosed and bedraggled, but happy. You could tell they did it tough out here.

I gave the children little kangaroo and koala key rings I'd taken with me from Australia and their faces just lit up. They proudly showed them off as I pinned them to their clothes. While clearly adored by their mothers, it must be so hot and boring for these little kids playing around an isolated hut, in the heat of Namibia, all day. We thanked the woman profusely and I gifted them a 5 litre bottle of water they were extremely grateful for, and we left.

It was hard to keep driving past the other huts just like them along the rest of the drive, seeing their gutted faces as we kept going by. Gone was a busload of hope that had already given all it could that day, to someone else. In a perfect world we'd have spread the wealth but it's so hard.

The landscape was sparse but we did stop to look at these amazing plants that have a female and a male version, that can only propagate when spores from the male plant fertilize a female one, carried by an insect or a bird. Incredible nature!

Give Harvs a big huh from Mama Bear

Xx

The Skies of Africa

As we covered more ground the next day it wasn't just the landscape that stood out - it was the skies. I had been hearing about the sunsets of Namibia for a while, and they had well lived up to the hype and then some, but no-one had mentioned the clouds. Not since that one sweeping the rim of the N'Gorongoro crater in Tanzania had I seen clouds so beautiful.

Whether they were evenly spaced and dotted like an aboriginal painting, or streaked like claw scratches from rim to rim of the horizon, painted the colours of autumn, or just hovering over a single pyramid-shaped mountain in an otherwise cloudless canopy, the clouds were just beautiful.

It was a stunning reminder that even when you travel to places to see what walks on the ground, always remember to look up.

I think my Norwegian roots, hailing from Kamoyvaer within the Arctic Circle, where looking up greets you with Aurora Borealis (the northern lights), just met my African ones!

Hugs for Harvey!

Xxx

Damaraland

As we left the animals of Etosha and headed for Damaraland we knew immediately the new awestriking sights would be landscapes. The expansive salt pan flats gradually turned into towering rocky mountains laden with huge boulders. We were dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of the scenery!

Our truck stopped by a petrified tree forest where, eagerly perched in the middle nowhere, sat street sellers with their crudely carved wares in the hope tourists just might turn up. After that we visited an ancient valley lined with huge red boulders with ancient carvings that gave some insight into the life and travels of the ancestral tribes.

On our way to camp we also stopped by the incredible "organ pipes" marked only by a tiny hand-painted signpost staked at the side of the road. Anywhere else in the world these vertical shots of volcanic rock, frozen forever to resemble huge organ pipes rising out of the ground, would be a national treasure. But hey, this Namibia, where every bend is more beautiful than the last.

But the absolute standout for me was visiting a Living Museum. This invaluable cultural initiative by the government is the erection of working villages that recreate the ancient cultures of each tribe. The present descendants now earn a living reliving the lifestyle of their ancestors, in turn keeping the teachings alive. They make no secret of the fact that they no longer live like this, but these living museums allow the tribes to resuscitate the lifestyles and ebbing traditions of their past, while connecting the children with lost heritage, all while providing an income for the tribe.

We were greeted by a beautiful Namibian woman with flawless English, as well as 5 of the most dazzling children's faces I have ever seen. As we weaved through the village we learned about traditional medicines, metal working, beading, firemaking, even forms of entertainment. We had our faces painted ocre to protect us from the sun, and we enjoyed a wonderful dance by the women of the village. All for just a few dollars.

But the standout for me was the children. One tiny baby did not stop giggling the whole time as he lay naked and merry on an animal pelt besides the beading women. The older children were so proud to show us around, taking our hands and dancing their way from hut to hut. I was especially touched by the affectionate relationships between the men and the children. I have noticed this throughout eastern and southern Africa - the men are so hands on with the children, cuddling and playing with them, and teaching them constantly. It's beautiful to see. I bought a resin covered Mopani tree branch from their makeshift little shop and gave them a big, genuine hug to show them how sad I was to say goodbye.

That night we stayed in a basic little campsite that was brought alive by some local woman, and a few men, who came and sang around our bonfire. We whooped especially loud for the Amarula song (our favorite African spirit) and giggled at the Toyota "beep beep" song, with accompanying dance.

That night I'd sought out the only private shower, or so I thought, until I was forced to share it with a rather stubborn little mouse who refused to vacate. Once again the little creatures in Africa make the fondest memories too!

Love to my little Bear

Xxx