Cape Town, South Africa
We met two wonderful people at the hostel and agreed to travel to Cape Town with them. Their names were Justin and Becky. He was from South Africa. She was from England. The two had travelled overland from London through West Africa in their own car. This seemed unimaginably epic to me. They’d travelled down the left hand side of the map and we’d travelled down the right side of the map and we would travel the last few thousand kilometres together.
The roads were wonderful. Tarmac about half the way the dirt the rest but the roads are well maintained so you can belt along them. Namibia is one of Africa’s least densely populated countries. It seemed that all there was to see was roads and more roads. But having said that, the landscape was stunning. Epic landscapes, sunny sandy plains and that tiny rivulet of road stretching to infinity in front of us. That first night, we camped beneath the stars and exchanged stories over the ‘braai’ (BBQ).
Early the next day, we drove out to the famous sand dunes of Sossusvlei. These red dunes are the oldest in the world and the largest. We climbed to the top of one of them and had a wonderful time running down the side of it. Running downhill was surreal – we felt like astronauts. The whole landscape was surreal. Justin had a wonderful time throwing the jeep around in the sand too, much to the chagrin of Becky who anxiously reminded him of the last list of repairs to the car. We jumped on the back for a while, hanging on for dear life with massive grins plastered across our dusty faces as we bounced around the lumpy, bumpy, twirling, swirling sand.
We took off that day and drove hard, stopping only to buy food at well-stocked garages on the road. We arrived late at a motel that night and checked in to sleep. The following morning, we hit the road again. We crossed into South Africa that day. It was monumental. South Africa would be the last country on our route. It was still early December. We might even make it home for Christmas. The guard took photos for us and we were in high spirits indeed crossing the border.
That day we drove all the way to Cape Town. There is something about nearing the end of a journey. All of a sudden, you cannot wait to finish and so it was for us. Malachy and I were happy to take our time but Justin and Becky were anxious to push on. We arrived into Cape Town that night. We watched the city sparkle into view – shiny, pearly lights for miles and miles. The first thing we did was stop off and buy a bottle of cheap sparkling wine. The second thing we did was spend a couple of hours travelling the last couple of kilometres as the car decided to give up at the last hurdle. Then, we checked into our backpacker lodge and then we celebrated.
The journey was finished. We’d arrived in Cape Town. We would spend a few weeks in South Africa becoming reacquainted with modern life. We did some shopping. We did some sight-seeing. We travelled to the wine regions, the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point of Africa. We stayed at an Irish friend’s holiday home. Every second person in South Africa is Irish, it seems. People would ask not if we were Irish but which part of Ireland we were from. I had my hair cut in Cape Town by a Kanturk lady. Can you imagine?
After a few weeks, we were ready to wrap up. So we decided we would come home.
- Niamh O Riordan
The roads were wonderful. Tarmac about half the way the dirt the rest but the roads are well maintained so you can belt along them. Namibia is one of Africa’s least densely populated countries. It seemed that all there was to see was roads and more roads. But having said that, the landscape was stunning. Epic landscapes, sunny sandy plains and that tiny rivulet of road stretching to infinity in front of us. That first night, we camped beneath the stars and exchanged stories over the ‘braai’ (BBQ).
Early the next day, we drove out to the famous sand dunes of Sossusvlei. These red dunes are the oldest in the world and the largest. We climbed to the top of one of them and had a wonderful time running down the side of it. Running downhill was surreal – we felt like astronauts. The whole landscape was surreal. Justin had a wonderful time throwing the jeep around in the sand too, much to the chagrin of Becky who anxiously reminded him of the last list of repairs to the car. We jumped on the back for a while, hanging on for dear life with massive grins plastered across our dusty faces as we bounced around the lumpy, bumpy, twirling, swirling sand.
We took off that day and drove hard, stopping only to buy food at well-stocked garages on the road. We arrived late at a motel that night and checked in to sleep. The following morning, we hit the road again. We crossed into South Africa that day. It was monumental. South Africa would be the last country on our route. It was still early December. We might even make it home for Christmas. The guard took photos for us and we were in high spirits indeed crossing the border.
That day we drove all the way to Cape Town. There is something about nearing the end of a journey. All of a sudden, you cannot wait to finish and so it was for us. Malachy and I were happy to take our time but Justin and Becky were anxious to push on. We arrived into Cape Town that night. We watched the city sparkle into view – shiny, pearly lights for miles and miles. The first thing we did was stop off and buy a bottle of cheap sparkling wine. The second thing we did was spend a couple of hours travelling the last couple of kilometres as the car decided to give up at the last hurdle. Then, we checked into our backpacker lodge and then we celebrated.
The journey was finished. We’d arrived in Cape Town. We would spend a few weeks in South Africa becoming reacquainted with modern life. We did some shopping. We did some sight-seeing. We travelled to the wine regions, the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point of Africa. We stayed at an Irish friend’s holiday home. Every second person in South Africa is Irish, it seems. People would ask not if we were Irish but which part of Ireland we were from. I had my hair cut in Cape Town by a Kanturk lady. Can you imagine?
After a few weeks, we were ready to wrap up. So we decided we would come home.
- Niamh O Riordan
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