Namibia chapter thirteen
From the desert to the sea.
I wake up earlier than I want to, my body accustomed to an early-morning wake up call. I want to sleep in. I want to bask in my room. But my time is limited. I’m to reach Swakopmund by nightfall.
It’s my last morning at the andBeyond Sossusvlei Desert Lodge. I’ve spent and incredible four nights at the lodge and I feel privileged to have been able to do so. Since Covid travel restrictions have been lifted people have been booking their delayed trips and new trips and it’s rare that so many days are available in a row. I’m thankful that I booked early.
In the distance, I see a balloon rise in the dawn light.
At breakfast I’m greeted by my usual avian companions. They seem more bold, or more hopeful. As if they know I’m about to depart and hope I have a change of heart, that perhaps today, on my last day, I’ll give in and treat them to my breakfast.
I go all out. Crepes, croissants, a muffin, eggs Benedict. My attention wanders and a bird manages to get into my eggs. It wipes its beak on the back of a chair.
I start getting emotional at breakfast, and excuse myself before I break down. Back at the room I take my last looks, checking to see whether I’ve forgotten anything, gazing out the windows one last time at the view.
On the walk back to the lodge I spot. jackal amongst the rocks. It’s perfectly camouflaged save for its movement. I can’t be certain it’s the same jackal that’s been visiting me all these nights, but I can’t be certain it’s not. I imagine it’s come to bid me goodbye, but it saunters off after catching sight of me without a backwards glance.
My tire has been replaced with one of the two spare,s the punctured tire repaired and placed under the truck. Wilhemina hands me a packed lunch for the road and I start to break down. It’s all I can do to keep from sobbing. I try to hide it by putting the sack in the car.
I tell Jo I didn’t want her to see me cry. She pulls me in for a hug and tells me not to cry. She gives great hugs. I break it off sooner than I’d have liked; I don’t want to soak her shoulder with tears.
She stands with Wilhemina and Pincella in front of the lodge and they wave to me as I drive off. I wave back, their bodies blur in my rearview mirror as tears cloud my vision.
I run into Chicco on the driveway. I quickly wipe my tears and get out of the truck to bid him adieu. He wishes me well on my journey and I his.
I turn left at the road and head north, once again traversing the gravel roads that criss cross Namibia. I stop for gas outside the entrance to Sossusvlei, just in case. The next stop: Solitaire.
Solitaire is smaller than I had expected, a blink and you miss it rest stop at the junction of the C19 and the C14. I had expected a town. I had asked fellow travelers about the the bakery when told about the apple crumble. Where in town is the bakery? Will I miss it? No, they all said. There’s a gas station and the bakery is across from it. I hadn’t realized that for all intents and purposes Solitaire consists only of the gas station and the bakery.
There are more cars in the parking lot than I’ve seen in some time. I walk into the bakery and ask for the crumble. It comes with either cream or ice cream. I opt for the latter. I’m the only one in the shop but that changes quickly. Two women come in for the crumble. Then a crowd. A man asks how the crumble is this year, complaining that it was too dry the year before. He’s heard tell this year it’s good. He takes his piece to the cashier to be rung up before he takes his first bite.
The top layer of the crumble is thick. The plastic fork is almost no match for it, but I persevere. It’s a fantastic treat, the stop a great respite from the dusty road. I’m thankful also for the ice cream.
The sun is up; it’s a warm day and it’s nice to sit in the shade of the cafe and enjoy a snack before climbing back into the truck and hitting the road. The crumble doubles as lunch, though I’m almost too full from breakfast to finish it.
Afterwards I take a short walk around solitaire to help digest. There’s a church, a small memorial to Moose McGregor—the pastry chef who brought his apple crumble to Solitaire, the gas station. I fill up Olivia and ease her out onto the road. I turn left onto the C14 towards Walvis Bay and the Atlantic Ocean.
It was just under two hours to reach Solitaire from the andBeyond; it’s another three and a half to Swakopmund. The C14 will take me all the way to the coast before I turn north on the B12 to Swakopmund. I wonder for a moment whether I should have spent a night first in Walvis Bay to avoid backtracking; I’ll be returning in order to visit Sandwich Harbor, but push the thought aside. It’s nicer to drop my bags off once for a few days rather than having to unpack and pack consecutively.
The gravel road and the red landscape are now familiar. I disturb a herd of oryx and catch them as they trot off towards the horizon. I cross back over the Tropic of Capricorn and stop to photograph another sticker-strewn sign.
At Gaub Pass I take a short break to walk along the river bed. The road leading in and out is surprisingly windy after the levelstraight roads I’ve been on, and I am forced to slow way down in order to navigate the turns.
I drive on through the desert, the road twists and turns. I head into a area marked with ravines, and I stop to try and capture the view.
Entering Swakopmund district the road becomes tarred, which surprises me. The joy is shortlived, however. Once I’ve made it through some hills the pavement gives way once more to gravel and dirt.
The landscape is ever changing. The desert to mountains to rocks. I see a turnoff to a view point and take it. The road is rough, but the Hilux can take it. I drive to a small sheltered stop and alight to walk for a bit. I don’t want to take too much time and cut my walk short. Later, I’ll find out it’s the Eastern Carpcliff Viewpoint, also known as the Gramadula View.
Past the view I wind my way through the mountains to another bridge over a dry river bed. Beyond, the road runs straight once again, an almost unbroken line to the coast.
Nearing Walvis Bay the horizon fills with cloud and the air turns cold and damp. The road shows vestiges of moisture. I can see the line where the clouds begin and watch the clouds come nearer as I approach until I am beneath them, their thick layers occluding the sun.
The sun sets as I drive and the day turns rose and grey. I stop for the view and breathe the cool air. I put on a sweatshirt to keep myself warm.
Soon I reach a tarred road on the outskirts of Walvis Bay. Trucks ply the roads and I find myself stuck behind one. We approach the town slowly. To my left I see flamingos in a small pond.
We drive into Walvis Bay, past traffic circles and a large mall. Around one circle I take the third exit and head north on the B12 towards Swakopmund. Coming out of Walvis Bay it’s a palm-lined avenue, reminding me of the Middle East. I spot a number of fútbol matches being played along the side of the road.
Between Walvis Bay and Swakopmund it’s all desert to one side, ocean on the other. Oil rigs dot the sea along the shore. A single town breaks the monotony. There’s not much left to go, but after the long day’s drive Walvis Bay felt like a tease, as if I’d arrived in town, but it’s not the town that marks my day’s destination. The last 20 minutes are the longest.
The GPS tells me to turn left as soon as I enter Swakopmund but I decide to take a quick tour of the town before heading to my hotel. It’s a dense town, with lots of shops and restaurants in the center. My hotel is on the southern edge, by the beach. I wonder why I didn’t pick a place in town but figure it probably had something to do with the cost.
Ronaldo greets me at the front desk, welcoming me to the hotel. He apologizes for the construction and the state of the parking lot; they’re in the midst of expanding the hotel and updating the front gate and guard house. Business is good? I ask. It will be, he says.
He tells me I have a free bottle of wine and lets me choose from the fridge before handing me the keys to my room. It’s on the top floor of the hotel.
I head to my room to unpack and then head to the roof to take in the view. The roof is deserted. There’s a plunge pool and lounge area, but it’s not the season for it. The evening is cool, the water is cold.
Looking north, Swakopmund is spread out before me. Looking south, it’s amazing to see the desert loom just beyond the city limits.
I’m exhausted. From the drive, from the early morning excursions, from life on the road. I eat the lunch prepared for me by the staff at the andBeyond and feel my throat catch. It’s one of the delicious sandwiches that Tangeny served us when we were in Sossusvlei. I wish I had a bunch of them.
I’m still hungry and so I walk downstairs and order room service. I put a movie on the TV. There are three channels showing Hollywood movies and I take my pick from three action films. Jurassic Park sequels, T2.
After dinner I feel better. I shower and wash my the day’s dust from my clothes. Tomorrow I’ll take a walk and take stock of the town. Tonight, I hope to dream of the andBeyond. 🇳🇦
29 May 2024
