Namibia. A beautiful, semi-arid, sparsely populated country in southwest Africa. When I told people I wanted to go, I got the normal questions about international travel in general, and African countries in particular: Where is that? Isn’t it dangerous? Why do you want to go there? I’ve wanted to visit Namibia for many years to see the Skeleton Coast in the north, Deadvlei on the central coast, the Fish River Canyon and quiver trees in the south. Researching these areas, it was immediately obvious that Namibia is a huge country (half the size of Alaska) with mostly gravel roads. Seeing everything on my list would require a lot of driving, and public transportation, always my first pick, is sparse in Namibia. While it’s a popular country for people to take pre-planned “self-drive” tour packages, I’m not really interested in changing tires or climbing up and down from a camper perched precariously on the top of a truck.
Regular readers of this blog know that Jared and I typically avoid long tours. Sure, we’ll take day trips to places that are inaccessible by public transportation or where there’s a benefit to having a knowledgeable guide, but group tours lasting weeks? We did it once (Morrocco) and while it wasn’t terrible, we also didn’t appreciate being on such a strict schedule and itinerary. With some reluctance, I started looking into tours of Namibia that went to all the places I wanted to see. Because of the distance between my must-see places, there weren’t many tours that went to all of them and even fewer that were affordable. In the end, I chose a tour that went the places I wanted to go, but in order to keep the cost down, I had to agree to sleep in a tent (no big deal) without an air mattress (very big deal) for two weeks.
At this point, Jared finally admitted he didn’t want to go back to Africa. No problem, my sister was willing to fly from South Sudan to meet me. Yay! With the details worked out, I was ready to book the tour for May 2022. Unfortunately, the world had other plans: the South African strain of Covid emerged, shutting down most of the countries in southern Africa. Meanwhile, my sister accepted a new job in Mogadishu, Somalia. With these two developments, I had to delay this long-awaited trip for a year until the world opened fully back up and my sister had built up some vacation time. While delaying the trip for a year was not what I wanted, it worked out that my friend KT (also a geologist) was able to come with us, and so we booked the trip for May 2023.
Having previously been to Africa, I was aware that some countries there have really big empty page requirements for passports. I’d previously checked the requirements for Namibia and counted pages in my passport to confirm I had enough. I’d also decided to take layovers in Johannesburg between the long-haul flights from and to the US. Not exactly a mistake, but when I finally booked my tickets, I checked the blank page requirements again and realized in the last week of February that I didn’t have enough pages in my passport for entry into Namibia (3 pages) and two entries into South Africa (2 pages per entry). Cue Three Stooges-style panic and rushing about to put my passport application together and mail it, along with an exorbitant fee to expedite both the processing and the shipping. Processing times for expedited service were supposedly running 5-7 weeks, and I had 9 weeks and one day before leaving. If you’ve seen the stories in the news about passport processing this year, you won’t be surprised that on April 20th I had to call the State Department. Apparently, their processing pattern right now is “we do it when we have to,” so I received my passport the next day after 7 weeks and 4 days of dread that it wouldn’t arrive in time. Passport finally in hand, it was time to go!
After a very long flight from Atlanta to Johannesburg, KT and I met up at the airport. We were spending one night in Joburg before catching our next flight to Windhoek, so we wanted some South African rand to tide us over. This was when I discovered (again) that not every ATM will take every bank card, and also that I’d forgotten my PIN. Having spent most of the past three years sitting at home, there wasn’t much need to use my travel-only ATM card, and any information not used is flushed by my brain. I texted Jared and he couldn’t remember either, but luckily he was able to reset the PIN right away to let me to get cash from a different ATM.
Crisis averted, KT and I piled our luggage into the hotel shuttle. After checking in, we dropped our bags and immediately went to find dinner, as we’d both been in transit with long red-eye flights. The hotel where we were staying had a restaurant, and since we were too tired to do more than walk downstairs, we decided it was perfect. Dinner was awesome, and we had a lovely meal for a very reasonable price, including a wonderful dessert of malva (South African bread pudding). After eating, we were both ready to sleep before returning to the airport for our next flight, so straight back upstairs and into bed we went.
The next morning, we caught the shuttle back to the airport and were immediately enthralled with all the stonework on display. Southern Africa has been subject to many geologic events over Earth’s history, and the airport was a showcase of the many types of stone in the region. I guess it’s a good thing the airport is pretty, because it’s also confusing—we walked around for a good 45 minutes trying to find the correct check-in location for our flight. Bags dropped, we headed for security, then on to passport control, where the Western idea of a single queue in which each person waits until the officer to the left or the right was free was not to the left-side officer’s liking. While we waited, he repeatedly stood up and shouted “Keep moving! Left or right, make your choice and live with it!” We made our choice, had our passports stamped, and went in search of water bottle refilling stations. Which turned out to be the bathroom attendant, who filled our bottles from a hose in the janitorial closet for a small tip. Thus inspected, stamped, and refilled, we proceeded to walk what felt like six miles to our gate.
Once in Namibia, we proceeded through a pleasantly quick immigration process and set about getting cash from an ATM. We also bought SIM cards for our phones while waiting for Lisa to arrive. The ATM gave us no grief, except that we could only take out a small amount of cash. It was enough for the SIM cards, shuttle driver tip, and dinner, so rather than making a second withdrawal, we decided to get more money later. The SIM cards, on the other hand, turned into a giant clusterf**k. The line for the only SIM card store at the airport was long, and it took forever for each customer. We were also watching for Lisa, and we knew her flight had landed already, so KT stood in the interminable line while I periodically checked if Lisa had exited immigration. Once we were finally at the head of the line, we both picked a SIM with a data package and the agents went about activating the new cards, only to find out that KT’s iPhone was locked and couldn’t accept the card. Sweaty, annoyed, unable to find our shuttle driver, and still missing Lisa, we gave up and went to the arrivals area. Apparently, our shuttle driver had been waiting for Lisa’s flight, so we were finally able to dump our heavy luggage in the van and head for our hostel.
We managed to check into our hostel with some effort before proceeding to our room and discussing dinner plans. We’d read about a local delicacy called kapana and were eager to head to the Single Quarters market in the Katutura neighborhood, which was supposedly home of the best kapana in town. However, our hostel staff wouldn’t agree to call us a taxi unless we agreed the driver would stay with us for the entire time we were in the market. This seemed unnecessary to Lisa and me, as we’ve both traveled extensively and frequented street markets all around the world. But the staff was insistent, we were hungry, and in the end they called us a driver.
On arrival, the market was relatively empty, but luckily the kapana sellers were still grilling up delicious treats. We walked through the grills, taking little samples that the cooks set out until we each found a seller we liked best. With gobs of grilled meat in our hands, our driver took us to another stall where they served fat cakes, which turned out to be some of the most delicious fried dough I’ve ever tried. Unfortunately for all of you, dear readers, we were so busy eating we forgot to take a picture, so you’ll have to use your imagination and take my word that the food was delicious.
After dinner, the driver narrated our return trip through town, pointing out landmarks and telling us the history of various areas in Windhoek. We stopped at a grocery store to pick up a few things for the start of our trip, and since we’d all been traveling for two days already, we went straight to bed.
The next morning, we were up and packed early, eagerly waiting to begin our safari. The tour started with a trip to the company office, where we met our guide (Cheelo), chef (Broniel), our fellow travelers, and had an overview of the upcoming stops for the next two weeks. Then it was into the truck and we were on our way!
Our first stop was Okanhandja Mbangura Woodcarvers Craft Market, the largest woodworking market in Namibia. Of course we all bought some things, even though it meant figuring out how to protect our purchases in luggage that would be thrown about repeatedly for the next twelve days. (It turns out that Tupperwear and dirty socks make great protection for trinkets while traveling.) The little town also had an ATM where we were able to withdraw a larger amount than the airport ATM allowed, and a Biltong shop that our guides assured us had some of the best jerky in the country. They certainly had a large selection of biltong made from local antelope-type animals, and we purchased a few to try, plus more for gifts. Lisa was especially excited about the biltong, but KT and I were less so. Neither of us is a big jerky enthusiast, and while the taste was okay, the texture—and especially the smell—were a little too much. After giving it a go, KT and I admitted defeat and gave a large package of biltong to Broniel, who was very excited about what he told us is his favorite snack.
We make a stop at a grocery store in Otjiwarongo for supplies, and after some amount of delay (not unexpected by Lisa and me but apparently unacceptable to some others in the group, more on that later) we headed to our first campsite, the Mount Etjo game reserve. Broniel and Cheelo showed us how to pitch the small but heavy canvas tents we’d be using on the trip, and we set about trying to find flat ground while avoiding the inches-long thorns on the acacia trees at the campsite.
Lisa and I were sharing, and KT had the other single female in the group as her tentmate. Unfortunately, this pouty Italian niña malcriada turned out to be the single most unpleasant person on the trip. She had apparently never been camping before and was singularly unhelpful when it came to putting up a tent. Even after being told about camping practices like not wearing shoes inside the tent and zipping the door to keep out insects and scorpions, she was unwilling to go along. This was only the first inkling of what was to come from our traveling companion. It’s good that KT has lots of teacher skills, because that level of patience and repetition turned out to be a constant necessity.
And with that, the trip was officially underway! Tune in to The Escape Hatch next time for more of the story. Here’s a sneak peek from the next installment:
