Namibia Pt 2 - Etosha

I'm not going to go into too much detail for Etosha, except the occasional anecdote. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then here is my thesis on the animals of Etosha.

The kori bustard is the largest of the birds here that can fly.

The king is a bit hot today.

The pan at Okaukeujo camp was worth hanging out at, the main entertainment was this rhino.

A black backed jackal.

Zebra, impala and jackal.

The rhino kept chasing the zebra away from the waterhole.

Oryx and zebra

Baby zebra

Ostrich and springbok

Part of a family of 33 elephants

Male impala trying to impress a female

Young wildebeest

It's hard sometimes, being tall

Zebra keeping an eye on the hyena

Young elephant really enjoying his bath

Young impala at play

A mixed crowd

Flamingo

All the photos from the male impala having a mock fight, down to, but not including the flamingo, was all at the same waterhole over a period of about an hour.
In that time there were elephants, giraffe, zebra, wildebeest, oryx, impala, spotted hyena, black backed jackal and guinea fowl, plus other smaller birds. All came in for a drink and / or a swim, often many at the same time, and apart from the hyena somewhat playfully stalking and chasing the guinea fowl, with no apparent intent to actually catch them, none of the animals cared about the presence of any other. The elephant in the water, the young impala charging around and jumping through the air, the hyena clumsily stalking the guinea fowl, it was as if this place was a playground, and many of the animals had a great sense of fun.

Of all the places I've seen animals in the wild in Africa, this was the largest number and diversity of animals I have ever seen in one place. I would have stayed for hours, we only left because we had to be back in camp before the sun set.

Namibia Pt 1 - Deserts

So after the hassles I wrote about in "A Funny Story", I was across the border and into Namibia, my 9th African country and the last for this trip. I had a travelling companion, Jill, I'd met a couple of days earlier in Cape Town.

I'd made arrangements to catch up with my friend Tam, an overland truck driver I went to Kruger with 3 months earlier. We camped with her crew, made up of a Danish guy in his 40's, a Polish guy about 50, and fifteen 19 year old Norwegian girls (one with a boyfriend in tow).

Not many of them knew eachother, they hadn't planned to travel with other Norwegians, however as Tam said, it's Norwegian season, just like 3 months earlier when I did my trip was German season. We joined them for a couple of nights, and went canoe paddling on the Orange River on the day in between. This was the main reason for staying with them. Tam and I taught about 5 of the Norwegian girls to play Grass.

With advice on the more interesting and scenic roads, we set off to visit Fish River Canyon. This is the second largest canyon system in the world, after the famous one carved out by the Colorado River. There is pretty much no flow here, ever, anymore, but once upon a time it must have been a very impressive river to have carved away and shaped so much rock.

It is possible to do a 5 day hike along the canyon during the cooler winter months, but definitely not in February. While it wasn't an exceptionally hot day, inside the canyon with no wind would have been an oven. I think 1-2 days hiking might be interesting, but whilst I am sure there are differences in the rock formations, it is totally barren, and 5 days without plants or animals would do my head in.

The photos don't do the scale and the view justice, it was impressive to just sit and admire the view for a while.

From Fish River Canyon, I tried to follow Tam's advice on roads, and after getting fuel for us as well as the car along the way, we set off again. I hadn't looked at the map closely enough and missed a turn I needed. By the time I got to the next town, after about the right distance I found I'd gone half way back to FRC by the roads Tam had suggested I avoid trying to take with my little hatchback. The car was fine, though it did bottom out a little on loose gravel a couple of times, the detour however meant an extra 200km, and by the time we arrived at Sossusvlei camping area it was too late to get in to see the dunes for sunset. I did however get the camera out later and take some star photos, with the clear desert sky perfect for this. For the rest of the photos go check out my Starry Starry Night post, if you haven't seen it already (posted a couple of months ago).

The next morning we got up extra early to be through the reserve gate at 05:20 and head in to see the great sand dunes. All the buses and overland trucks were stopping at Dune 45, so to avoid the crowd we headed all the way to the end of the road to the main Sossusvlei dunes. The last 5km is deep soft sand and 4WD only, so after parking in the 2WD car park we started walking, as hoped we were soon offered a lift. But first, a few shots of the rising sun.

We were amazingly fortunate as the German guy and Aussie woman travelling with him not only gave us a lift in, after hiking some dunes together, they fed us breakfast, hiked more dunes and out to a salt lake, and then gave us a lift back out. The first hike was to the top of this dune. No, not that one, the first one on the left, it was still pretty big, despite what it looks like here.

After eating, we had trekked over a couple of dunes, seen this salt lake in the distance and headed that way to check it out.

When we got there, Jill went for an upside down walk.

As we turned to leave, we found a well worn path from a different point than we'd started from, with a group of people heading in, including a bunch of 19 year old Norwegian girls heading over the dunes. We were all glad we'd taken a different path in, but took the easy route out. It was nearly midday, and the sand was becoming unbearably hot to walk on, so a quick way out was appreciated, even the locals were hitting the shade.

As I pulled back into our little camp area, I noticed a cut branch coming down from the tree that would be very close to the roof of the car if I went under it, not wanting to risk damaging the car I parked next to it. Right next to it. As I got out of the car, I stood straight up into the end of the branch, and pretty much fell straight back into the car. Luckily the branch was cut, and not a jagged break, but still managed to split my scalp just above the hairline, and gave me a cracking headache, not helped by the heat.

Later in the afternoon after lunch and a swim, we decided we'd seen enough and it wasn't worth paying another day pass to return to the park for sunset, so we set off again. I was reasonably confident that we could make Walvis Bay on the coast with the fuel we had, so long as I was conservative, besides on twisty gravel roads, I had no inclination to hurry. There were no fuel stops on the road passed Walvis Bay where I expected them to be. We trundled in to Swakopmund on vapours, having done about 30km more than I believed the car could manage, and at 21:30 at night. We managed to find a place to stay and quickly crashed for the night.

The other guy in the dorm room we stayed in was Finnish, and had shipped his motorbike to Cape Town, and was on his way home up the west coast of Africa, through Angola, Congo, Cameroon, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Senegal and many countries to cross from Morocco to Spain and then through Europe home. He was taking a tough route. The eastern African countries such as Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya and Ethiopia is a more well travelled route, generally considered to be safer, and with better roads (i.e. something you can get down without requiring a tractor). I wished him luck, and hopes he makes it.

Swakopmund is the activity hub of Namibia, and considered to be more German than a town in Germany. Neither Jill or I were particularly impressed though. Being mid-summer, it wasn't peak season, so it was pretty quiet, but also with our own wheels, we didn't need to come to the 'hub' and join tours to any of the places offered, we just did it ourselves. So after a restful couple of days we set off up the Skeleton Coast. Just as we were leaving town we bumped into the Danish and Polish guys from the overland group. I guess when you are travelling in the same direction in Namibia you will keep meeting the same people. We had also seen a French overland crew at FRC, Sossusvlei and again in Swakopmund.

There was a seal colony, with too many seals to count. This is only one of many seal colonies along this barren and rugged coast, though I believe this one to be one of the largest.

When we got to the entrance to the Skeleton Coast NP, we found this very welcoming gate.

After a few minutes wait the gate was opened for us, and after paying the park fee we were asked to deliver the mail to the next gatehouse on our way back out the north side of the park. I had hoped to camp at Tora Bay on the coast, but the whole place was being rebuilt, and was not open to visitors.

Jill found a really nice camping spot on the Abu Huab river for us to spend the night, and amazingly in this most remote of places, there was about 5 other groups of people. The next morning we checked out the nearby rock site known as the Organ Pipes, worth a look if you're there, but not worth a big detour for.

And then a site I was much more interested in, the Petrified Forest. There was a number of stone tree trunks spread out over a large area, with many fragments scattered around. There was no evidence of branches, yet the trunk sections included all the way out to the bark layer, and surface marks like knot holes.

The trunks were believed to have been washed down in a pre-historic flood, which explains the clumping nature of the trunks and the lack of branches.

From here we were heading to Etosha NP, which I will continue in part 2 about Namibia, as I have plenty of animal photos to share.

A Funny Story

I got to the border crossing from South Africa to Namibia, and handed over my passport as normal to get stamped out of the Sth Africa. I'd come and gone from Sth Africa a few times now and it was always a pretty quick process compared to many other African countries. But not this time.

The guy looks up at me, and says in a fairly gruff tone of voice "when did you get here?"
"Early December, from Swaziland" I replied.
"No, first time, when did you get here first time".

I explained I had passed through Sth Africa at the end of October between Madagascar and Mozambique, but had then spent time in Mozambique and also in Swaziland before coming back to South Africa.

The short version of the story, is that I thought that having left South Africa for a month and coming back, that I would have a new time period on my stay in Sth Africa, but it turns out that for this time period to reset I needed to go to my country of residence, Australia, not just another country. If I was Mozambican, this would have been fine, I wasn't Mozambican, fine, it was not.

I had accidentally overstayed my visa period. Not by much mind you, it was only by 4 days. My punishment however was to have this stamped into my passport.

Really? An illegal immigrant? I'm leaving, does that not clearly show I'm not immigrating?
I was also issued with a 1000 Rand fine, approx $110 Aus.

At this point, while I was still trying to figure out what this meant, particularly since I had a Sth African hire car I needed to bring back, the guy stopped talking to me, threw all the paperwork at me, and then refused to talk to me, or even look at me when I tried to ask him for more information.

After a few minutes a woman came in to the office, I tried to ask her for some more information, she spoke to the guy in the local African language, and turned to me and said "He explain already!"
"Umm, no, not really, I'm not trying to be difficult, I just need some more information, please"

Eventually I confirmed that yes I could come back, if I paid the fine. I didn't have to pay the fine, but then I would never be allowed to come back in, and I could pay the fine on my return. This was good because they only took cash, and I didn't have enough.

Oh, and when I got back to South Africa again, I would only be allowed to stay for one week.
That was going to impact my plans, I had a number of things I wanted to do around Cape Town, and with 1 day required to drive from the Namibian border, the 6 remaining days was not going to be enough.

5 weeks later, on my return to Sth Africa, I got a much nicer and more helpful woman at the counter. She was almost pleasant, though after I paid the fine, she did write all the payment details down on the wrong line in the ledger, against someone else's name. I pointed this out through the glass window to her.

I wanted to say, see, it's easy to make simple mistakes, but there is no way to get around African bureaucracy, not if there is the chance they can get money out of you.

I paid my fine, my passport got a new stamp, and they let me back in to the country again.

This stamp, 5 page turns later in my passport, doesn't clearly negate the first one.
I am sure that at some point in the next 4 years, I will have to test my border crossing negotiating skills once more, against some pompous, difficult bureaucrat, to explain why they should let me into their country. And hopefully not be stuck in the land of limbo between two countries. I probably could just replace my passport, but with nearly 4 years left to run and 13 clear pages awaiting stamps, I'll take the chance that I can talk my way into, and out of most of the troubles that come my way.

Western Cape

After my stay at Nature's valley, I went to Plettenberg Bay for a day at the beach with Olympia who worked at the backpackers and had a day off, which ended in a game of beach volleyball. I was then on to Knysna where I was visiting with Dee, the cousin of my friend Sheonagh (who I met in Tanzania). Dee and her husband Peter are both retired teachers, who have an awesome house (with guest quarters) on a hill which backs onto bushland. They were the most lovely hosts and spoilt me rotten for a couple of days of going out for lunch, and dinner on a beach inside the river mouth, a tour of the area, and a home cooked, traditional meal of Bobotjie.

We also had many interesting discussions, and they were somewhat surprised of my grasp on the social and political situation in Sth Africa, given I'd only been there about 6 weeks. I guess it is partly the way I travel, and partly my nature, to not just see a place but to try and experience and understand it as well.

On the topic of experiences, my next destination, after a scenic coastal and forest drive, was the Klein Karoo and the town of Oodtshorn (Oatswarren). An area famous for Ostrich farms. Synthetic fibres has reduced the demand for feathers, but there are still a number of farms, and they have a tourism industry including the ability to go ostrich riding.

Even if I was allowed to, I wouldn't have inflicted myself on an ostrich, though I possibly could have helped by running too. However at nearly 20kg over the weight limit, even being chopped off at the knees, which many have threatened me with over the years, wouldn't have been sufficient.

It was not however why I was there, I had driven into the desert to squeeze myself through an underground letterbox in the Cango Caves.

The caves extend about 5km or more, but only the first 1.4km is open to the public. The first half of this is large and open, with a couple of huge halls, one of which has been used for underground opera. Access beyond this first part is done in small groups with a guide as there are a number of difficult sections. There is the tunnel of love, named because it hugs you from both sides, lumbago walk, requiring you to bend double, the previously mentioned post box, and the devils chimney.

The instructions for climbing the chimney, "right foot up there, push up, put your left foot over here ...", were completely useless to me. My legs were too long to get my feet up to the relevant places, so I just had to get a good hand grip and pull myself up until I reached the right places and could use the foot places for a rest. Just before I started I could tell the guide was just about to enquire if I was OK, when both feet lifted off the ground at once, to the chuckles of those still below. Good for them to laugh I thought, they don't have to arm haul themselves up a rock chimney in a pipe narrower than the width of their shoulders. Sarah, the Canadian girl who followed me could practically jog up in the space she had.

The rest of the day I spent driving up the Swartzberg Pass and through mountains, and back south over the mountains again via another path.

Can you imagine the pressure required to fold rocks like this?

I finished the day in the Sth African rock climbing mecca of Montagu. I wasn't climbing, I had no gear or climbing buddies, but the scenery was pretty cool.

I then turned south and went as far as I could without requiring a vehicle of a more marine nature, with a visit to Cape Agulhas, the southern most point of Africa.

The Cape of Good Hope gets more attention, and for the sake of a name is labelled the most south westerly point of Africa, but basically it is within day trip distance from Cape Town, and therefore easier to get to. A couple more days driving along the rugged coastline and I too had arrived in Cape Town.

I had expected to stay for about a week, with the intention of finding someone to travel through Namibia with me, both for the company and to share the fuel costs.

It turned out though that once I finally found a backpackers to check into, the first person I got talking to had plans to go to buy a bus ticket that afternoon for Windhoek and then figure out how to get around Namibia once in the capital. So I said "Well, before you do that, here is my plan" and after listing the places I wanted to visit, I had a travel buddy. I caught up with my friend Laura I'd met in Durban, and after only a day and a half I was leaving Cape Town again, and heading for Namibia.