Namibia chapter twenty-one
Exploring Epupa Falls.
I wake to the sound of the falls in my ears. I’m staying in a cabin so close to the falls that I could practically jump out of my window into them.
It’s still dark when Owen meets me. He’s come to lead me on a hike along the river to view the falls. Of the many cataracts that make up the falls, only one is on the Namibian side; 55 belong to Angola.
He leads me out of the complex and along the road before turning towards the river. We pass the deep gorge that sits outside my cabin. A beautiful boabab tree hangs on the edge. He tells me the views will be better when the sun is up. For now we pause briefly before continuing downriver.
The sun rises as we hike along the path, illuminating the falls. Now and again Owen has us climb higher for a better view, but they’re all beautiful views. We’re walking the path I had seen the day before and I’m happy to be able to see the falls from this vantage point.
Owen is an avid hiker and he shares his plans with me for the future. He’s planning some hikes in South America and in Europe. There’s one in Southern Africa where he’s planning on hiking 4800 kilometers, ending in Windhoek. Some he is doing as part of a group raising awareness for Atlantic Ocean pollution.
He tells me he’s also friends with Dr. Itula, leader of the second opposition party in Namibia. He’s been working on his campaign for president, he came close in the last election.
We walk to a small beach, which marks the end of our journey. If we continue on the path we’d end up at a village, but the falls are behind us. We sit and rest a bit before turning back.
The path is bathed in sunlight. We pass a couple of people walking towards the beach and Owen stops to talk to them. They’re cousins of his headed to the village. They chat for a minute and then move on, leaving us to our hike.
The sun illuminates the mist rising from the falls; the valley lies in shadow. It’s a beautiful walk and I make a mental note to return in the afternoon when the sun has shifted to light the river below.
Owen tells me he’s found a group of people to go rafting this afternoon and so it’s on. He’ll pick me up after lunch to drive us to the launching point. Back at the cabin I open the window to take in the view, then lie down to take a quick nap.
I climb onto the back of a pickup truck for the ride to the launch point. We stop by the lodge next door to collect an Italian couple and I help them climb aboard. We stand on the bed of the truck as it drives upstream.
Owen hands us life jackets and gives us a quick safety briefing. He’ll be guiding the three of us along with another paddler. There will be a few small rapids but for the most part it’ll be a leisurely float down the river.
Just past the midpoint of or journey Owen guides us to the opposite shore. We beach the raft and pull it ashore. Welcome to Angola, Owen says and leads us to a painted sign. He and the other guide unpack a cooler and offers us drinks as we rest in the shade of a palm tree.
He tells us he has an Italan girlfriend and a 10-year-old son. She’s from Sardinia and they hope to eventually split time between the two countries. He tells us her parents were slow to warm up to him, but things are much better now.
We get closer to the falls than I had anticipated, pulling up and mooring near the hotel. We pass a few faster rapids and at one point I spot a huge crocodile sunning itself on the beach of a small island. I’m too busy pointing it out to others to take a photo; by the time everyone’s seen it, it’s slipped into the water.
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After lunch I head back to the path along the river to admire the falls in the late afternoon light. I head to a view point and settle in to wait for the golden hour. A group of children stop by and look at my phone as I take video of the falls. They fall over themselves as they vie for my attention and then wander off towards Epupa.
I start reading a history of Namibia I’ve downloaded on my Kindle but the falls keep distracting me as the light shifts, showing off the falls in new ways. A beautiful spray of birds flit from one side of the falls to the other.
Walking back, I play hide and seek with the sun as it hides and reveals itself behind the uneven peaks. Its light brings out the red in the cliffs and the mountains around me.
The lodge is empty tonight; I’m the only guest. I ask if it’s usually busy this time of year and am told it usually is. It’s strange, they say; maybe it’s the South African elections that are keeping people away.
I sit outside before dinner watching birds flit around the sky as it transitions from yellow to gold to violet. Rico laughs when she takes me drink order, a large bottle of sparkling water, my standing choice. I ask her about the birds. She tells me she only knows the name in the local language: ondiri. She tells me they build their nests out of sand in the eaves of houses. It’s a beautiful word, and I repeat it to myself as the sky darkens, the roar of the falls thunder just below. 🇳🇦
6 June 2024
