The journey to Namibia
We managed to find a cheap lift from Zambia to Windhoek, the perfectly ordered, model like capital city of Namibia. On the first day we covered 1,200 Km during daylight hours. It was terrific. We have moved so slowly since Cairo and here we were on empty roads of unblemished bitumen that stretched all the way to the horizon like fresh jet trails.
We stopped three times. Once to inspect a hippo, dying slowly in front of a buckled safari 4X4 and a couple of times to buy meat pies and chocolate in clean, well stocked, expensive supermarkets and petrol station shops. We used the word ‘expensive’ a lot once we set foot in Namibia.
Flat Botswana, across the Okavango River and hours of flat Namibia are an awesome sight to behold. Crazy hills appear at last, proudly holding weird quiver trees atop their barren rocks. Farm gates punctuate the unending fences at each side of the road, leading to houses somewhere over the horizon. Warthogs and strikingly handsome oryx liven up the roadside very occasionally. The country seems almost void of people.
We spent the night at a campsite a few hours from Windhoek, in one of those farms in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest road, not to mind town. After an impossibly red sunset, it rained on us just before we could get our leaky tent up. But we dried out as we shared what little food we had with our companions. Our Namibian driver and a Canadian tourist flirted incessantly with each other. It makes those 14-hour drives much shorter when you have someone to chat to, you may be sure.
Before falling into our canvas tent, we watched yet another spectacular African lightening show.
The next morning, we arrived into Windhoek; squeaky clean, too much parking space, not enough cars on its wide, perfect streets, not enough people on its empty pavements and completely without character. Even the smartie coloured houses don’t make it look anything more than a perfectionist’s model city. And did I mention that it’s expensive?
- Malachy Harty
We stopped three times. Once to inspect a hippo, dying slowly in front of a buckled safari 4X4 and a couple of times to buy meat pies and chocolate in clean, well stocked, expensive supermarkets and petrol station shops. We used the word ‘expensive’ a lot once we set foot in Namibia.
Flat Botswana, across the Okavango River and hours of flat Namibia are an awesome sight to behold. Crazy hills appear at last, proudly holding weird quiver trees atop their barren rocks. Farm gates punctuate the unending fences at each side of the road, leading to houses somewhere over the horizon. Warthogs and strikingly handsome oryx liven up the roadside very occasionally. The country seems almost void of people.
We spent the night at a campsite a few hours from Windhoek, in one of those farms in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest road, not to mind town. After an impossibly red sunset, it rained on us just before we could get our leaky tent up. But we dried out as we shared what little food we had with our companions. Our Namibian driver and a Canadian tourist flirted incessantly with each other. It makes those 14-hour drives much shorter when you have someone to chat to, you may be sure.
Before falling into our canvas tent, we watched yet another spectacular African lightening show.
The next morning, we arrived into Windhoek; squeaky clean, too much parking space, not enough cars on its wide, perfect streets, not enough people on its empty pavements and completely without character. Even the smartie coloured houses don’t make it look anything more than a perfectionist’s model city. And did I mention that it’s expensive?
- Malachy Harty
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