Radhika had a class to go to in Abu Dhabi from September 25 to October 2nd for GE, so I decided to go along, as the Middle East is not strong on our radar of places to visit. It seemed like a good way to at least check out the area to discern if there was any reason to return one day for a deeper look.
We had a mid-morning flight out of Amsterdam, arriving in Abu Dhabi in the late afternoon after connecting in Paris. The hotel GE had her staying at was the OnetoOne Village. It's a little on the outskirts of the city center, but by taxi it's only 15 minutes at a cost of 4 to 5 euros. The first room had a dirty bathroom, so we asked to change rooms. The next day we encountered more problems, and while Radhika was at her class I moved our belongings to the upgraded suite, courtesy of the manager. We had numerous problems within the first 14 hours, so the upgrade and breakfast buffet was the least management could do considering this was supposed to be a top-notch property.
Summer was giving way to fall, but I couldn't be convinced of that. Over 100f degrees/40c degrees every day with little cloud cover. At midday the streets and outdoor public places were deserted, except for one dope with a camera. Shade, any shade, was more precious than a peanut butter sandwich. I have never been so heavily drenched in sweat outside of a sauna! I seriously considered dancing through a children's water park that I came across while photographing the downtown area. I stood there (in the shade, of course) looking at the cool water spraying out of the caterpillar, palm tree, and from the ground, and considered how uncomfortable I would be walking around the city soaked for the next odd number of minutes until I air dried. I eventually decided against it, but the margin was very close!
If the city were a cake than construction cranes would be the icing. I have never seen so many cranes (until we went to Dubai on Friday). I believe I read somewhere that 70% of the worlds construction cranes are in the middle east or perhaps just in the UAE! I can believe that. There are many buildings in various stages of construction, all due to the fact that they have the wealth now, knowing that it is finite, and are trying to develop the place for tourism in the future when the proverbial and literal well runs dry. But it seems they are making it only as a place for the rich and well to do. It may be the first place I have been where my interest was not engaged too deeply. As far as natural things to do, there's a desert safari. But after just doing that in Namibia, revving up a 4X4 through soft sand or being bounced around in one was about as appealing to me as a body waxing. I looked at the online offerings from searches, "what to do" in Abu Dhabi, and there was nothing of interest for me other than the sleek, new construction. The Ferrari Experience would open in a month, and a F-1 race also occurred in November, but that didn't help me now. So, I would do my morning swim, eat breakfast, and head out to the usual starting point near the Marina Mall. From there I had many subjects within reasonable reach, strategic locations to cool off, and meander into the downtown area. I had to be careful with respect to the big temperature changes between the air conditioned 22 to 25 degree Dunkin Donuts for a smoothie and 42+ degree outdoors, as condensation would "dew up" my equipment and that's never a digital camera's friend. Before I would leave the hotel room in the morning, I would place my camera bag outside for 20 minutes so it slowly acclimated to the warm temperature. I wasn't always successful at this, as the images made at the Grand Masque illustrates. Going inside the cold mosque and then out into the hot early evening could not be avoided. Luckily my equipment cleared rather quickly because the cold, dry air didn't have time to penetrate deeply into the camera/lens material. And the effect bore interesting, ethereal results as you can see from the pictures in the album.
We went out one night with a group of some of Radhika's fellow classmates. There were people from different parts of the world. It was a nice dinner place in Abu Dhabi, one of the most upscale restaurants in the city. I enjoyed some sushi, but not being a huge fan I had other items off the menu that were good, and was the only one to order (ahead of time) the chocolate soufflé. Great move on my part if I do say so, because it was toe curling good! I offered a taste of it and a little envy crossed their face at not having one of their own. There were at least two dance places in this complex where the restaurant was located, so we checked them both out. Very top scale, and we stayed at the 2nd one for most of the evening. It was subdued and quiet, at first, and then more people came in and the music started pumping. It was an odd clientele, and there was a sense of some in the female crowd that they were there for "curious" reasons. That's all I will say about that. Anyway, a fairly good time, but for me at least, as most of these things go, I could've split an hour or so before we actually decided to leave. One in our party was really hammered, and Radhika and I helped this person get along. The place was so vast we had trouble finding an exit. Back and forth we went on different floors until we found someone to ask and we escaped to a taxi. We tried to take this person to their place, but they couldn't muster the power to inform us where they lived, so after pulling the taxi over when our driving back and forth in what was thought to be their neighborhood was over, we took them back to our hotel where we luckily had a separate room and a big couch where they would crash. Of course the taxi, persons clothes, and parts of Radhika's and my clothing were a little "soiled", and the taxi driver was given extra above his fare for "cleaning fees". Wasn't the right night for me to where white slacks and a white shirt! After washing the stains out of our clothes in the sink we went to bed as they had a class in the morning. Our guest slept thru the night and was a little late to class after going home for a cleanup and clothing change. Like oh so many Daytona Beach Spring Breaks I experienced in my younger days.
Something that is quite unique for the UAE is that Emirate Nationals make up only 14% of the population! That means the other 86% are foreigners. The majority of those come from two places, the Philippines and the Indian subcontinent. The former are found primarily in restaurants and stores, basically the service industries, where the latter proliferate on construction sites. The native population is basically well off financially. The government meets healthcare, retirement, education, and the entire social needs. There doesn't seem to be much to worry about if you belong to that 14%. I did not see one Emirati driving anything close to a Kia! As a matter-of-fact, I think all of the Hummers that smart Americans dumped over the past 3 to 4 years ended up over here where gasoline is as abundant as sand. Also, apparently one must be careful with their interactions with local females. We were in the mall, and as we passed what appeared to be two young Emirati females, one smiled and looked at me for more than a passing moment. I smiled back, which is when I received the warning from Radhika (and NOT the one you think). I was informed that cultural differences could cause a misunderstanding with members of her family by my smile or attention. My reply was basically "She started it!” Radhika said she saw the woman's behavior, but me being a visitor and her a citizen, it would be better to show restraint in being friendly. I guess that can be true as this is a place where holding hands in public is about as tolerant as it gets. Dubai is more liberal due to the higher flow of tourism that it sees, but Abu Dhabi is still a little tighter on cultural matters. So...no more smiles in return to the Abu Dhabi chickies from me!! Radhika and I continued our walk around the mall, in search of a place to eat. We asked a gentleman at an information counter if there were any restaurants with outside seating, as we didn’t want to just sit in what was a fairly empty mall. He gave me a look that didn't require words, but offered them anyway. "We don't have anything outside." Now, that look and inflection means everything in this story, because the American version would've been something like "Are you f'ing crazy!? The food would cook as it sat on your plate! If you want to salt it you just lean in and let your sweat do the job!!" Too much? Don't be squeamish, it's only to convey how damned hot it was outside, and how oblivious I was to dinner + outdoors = miserable. Days later in Dubai, we saw restaurants with tables outside at the Dubai Mall, and Radhika asked me if I wanted to sit outside! I borrowed that expressive look from that guy back in Abu Dhabi and asked "Are you serious? No way."
We spent only a few hours in Dubai, which lies 90 minutes north up the coast of Abu Dhabi. Just enough time to have a light dinner at the mall with one of Radhika's classmates, see the current worlds tallest building, and the Barj El Arab. Our flight took after a little after midnight from Abu Dhabi International, so we left Dubai via taxi in time to make the airport, and after spending the few dirhams left in our pockets on Twix bars and Emirate Dates, we boarded our crowded flight back to the place of drab, cloudy, rainy weather, pot-seeking/red light district visiting tourists, and increasingly more grumpy Dutch as the sun index decreases. Next trip? USA in November.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&galleryid=1e983c37a0734383928674279d4a5b30&wf=sharegrid
Monday, October 25, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Africa - Part 14 (Cape Town and Departure)
The next morning we looked at the various options that would take us from Walvis Bay to Windhoek in time to square matters at the 4X4 rental and get to the airport in time for our late afternoon flight to Cape Town. From shuttles to buses to renting a car, the latter gave us the best option. After visiting several rental companies that were within walking distance from our hotel, we finally found one that actually had inventory. It was necessary to wear a hat to protect my repair work, as it was still windy outside, with sand and other debris flying around. The air quality seemed poor, and we were told that yesterday’s sand storm was the worst experienced in a long time. Just our luck! We got some breakfast and were then on the road. Radhika seemed a little nervous for me, but I was okay driving, as yesterday’s accident didn’t seem to leave me with any psychological scars or newfound fears. But I was a little more careful, as I could see the scrubby bushes along the side of the desert road bending at the mercy of the gusting winds.
We found our way to Aloe Car Rental after the 4-hour drive. We were already not happy with them due to what we perceived as their preoccupation with the state of the vehicle and the amount we owed them for the insurance, with little to no interest in our condition resulting from the accident. Radhika had told me that as I was getting my IV from the EMT, she was talking to the Aloe owner, who was telling her how much we owed them for the damage, without any inquiry or concern regarding our health. No class move there. After a brief shouting match between us and Hertie and Surita, the German owner and his wife, I said we were short on time and needed to get all the paper work done so we could get to the airport and make our flight. We still had to stop at the police station to make an accident report. The police station was supposedly along the route to the airport, but it did seem a little out of the way, and a long line waited for us as we (Surita, Hertie’s wife went with us) arrived. Surita was being non-complementary towards local law enforcement and I soon learned why. We skipped the long line as Surita explained that we were on our way to the airport and had to make a flight. The place was a madhouse, and the woman who was helping us (if you can call it that) ignored us, turned her back, talked with colleagues, and was loathe to answer questions. It was the worst encounter I have ever experienced with a law enforcement organization anywhere. It was embarrassing for them, the city, and the country. The accident report was a joke. We couldn’t get out of there soon enough. I told all of the people waiting in line I felt sorry for them as we left the building. Radhika was “shooshing” me all the way out. We had been told by the ambulance crew that the police in Windhoek were “lazy”, and indeed they are.
We parted ways with Surita and without delay made haste to the airport. Dropping off Radhika at departures, I was fortunate to be able to turn in the rental with relative ease. We both got on the flight with less than 10 minutes to spare. Any hiccup along the way would’ve meant another missed flight. We were happy to be out of Namibia and hoped our now even more abbreviated visit to Cape Town would wrap up the trip on a good note. Jan had already been there a day, but was relocating to where we had originally made reservations. She had arrived the day before, but her flight out of Windhoek had been delayed to where she didn’t touch down in Cape Town until close to midnight. By then she couldn’t pick up the rental car I had reserved or make it to the place we had reserved for our first night’s accommodation, so she got a place not far from the airport. We were picked up at Cape Town airport and taken to Acorn House, a B&B style house not far from Table Mountain. It was early evening, but we stayed in and enjoyed the atmosphere and relaxed a bit after our last 48 hours. We would get a fresh start the next morning.
After an early breakfast we went to the Cape Town waterfront. It is the nicest, prettiest city we would visit. We shopped a little and ate lunch before heading to the dock where the Robben Island tour departed from. This one of the main attractions to do here in Cape Town: a visit to where Nelson Mandela spent over two decades of his life. What a disappointment!! The ferry ride there and back was nice. From there you are put on a cramped bus and listen to a narrator drone on, make attempts at tasteless jokes, see little of interest, and waste precious time at the only stop made mostly so you can buy drinks or trinkets in a shop. We finally get to walk around with a group led by a former prisoner, and while part of that is interesting, much of it is not. I tried to stand close, as it was difficult to hear and understand his words when he spoke. There was also information on prisoners when we went into cellblocks, but were moved so quickly through it that one couldn’t take the time to read much about the history or people attached to this place. I got fed up and went out on my own for a while, reading what I wanted and making pictures. We were no more than cattle whisked from place to place with very limited time to absorb and enjoy. Awful treatment and management of such an important and solemn place. The three of us were sick with disappointment.
A cab took us to where we picked up our rental car, as we would be driving a couple of hours east to a small coastal town that was part of our original itinerary. We should be able to do some whale watching from shore and other relaxing activities. Jen had made the reservation, so she drove us all to Hermanus Bay. We arrived there in the evening after stopping at a service station for final directions to the B&B’s location. It was a really nice property located right on the coast. We just chilled out in the hotel and our rooms, with Jen retiring quite early. We stayed up several hours more reading and relaxing. The next morning we would eat breakfast and walk across the 2-lane road to the coast. There were rocks and boulders along the shore to scramble over, and a trail that was a nice walk with occasional rests on provided benches with views of the bay. We could see flukes and fins, hear the sound and see the spray as whales came up for air. When whales were sighted, a person armed with a horn, the Whale Crier, would blow his or her Kelp Horn, alerting people that whales were in the vicinity. It was pretty cool to hear that medium-pitched moan echo across the bay. The walk was peppered with great expansive views of the bay coupled with smaller “micro-worlds” of colorful flowers. We kept an eye on the time, as we had to be back in Cape Town that evening in time to return the car and get back to Acorn House. I wanted to make a slow drive back along the coast as I had read it was very beautiful, so we wrapped up our trailblazing and hopped in the car to head west along the coastal road.
We took some roads off the main one when the possibility of something promising appeared, sometimes rewarding us and other times deciding that it would be better to return to our known route as not to get confused or turned around. We stumbled upon a penguin sign, and following it led us to a neat little park where we paid a small entrance fee to check out the little stinkers. And boy do they ever! Good thing the wind was strong near the coast. We spent quite a while walking the wooden walkway built several meters above ground level that went all the way out almost to the tip of the rocks where water met land. They are clowns. They don’t appear to do much; it’s just that everything they do is funny. Just standing still, they are a riot. You can really make an imagined conversation between them with the way they look and interact. I’ll show you what I mean in the album that I put together for this post.
After our penguin encounter, we headed back for Cape Town, which wasn’t too far away now. We came in on the main highway, and along the perimeter of the highway were shantytowns, where hundreds of people lived. Just as in Johannesburg, it seemed straight out of “District 9”. I tried to fire off a few exposures from our speeding car. We easily found the rental place, turned in the car, and took a taxi to where we had dinner reservations. We first had drum lessons with a small group of other diners, and then ate dinner in a large room while a dancer and show entertained every 15 minutes, or so. It was late by the time we left the restaurant, so we almost immediately went to bed when we returned to the B&B. The next evening we would leave, but the morning would be spent at Table Mountain, our last adventure coming on the 13th of August, our 15th wedding anniversary.
Jen left before us for the mountain, as she wanted to hike up it. We were content to take the cable car up so we had breakfast and then had a cab take us up to the Table Mountain drop-off. We got our tickets and too the car up. As you elevate you also slowly rotate clockwise, so everyone gets to see all of the views. We walked around once at the top and then took a trail to a distant point that was a good hike across uneven terrain. Keeping an eye on time to get back to Acorn House for the ride to the airport, we left in plenty of time, getting a cab immediately upon returning to ground level. We got back to the B&B where there was a bit of a panic. Jen had called the airline to confirm our flight and was told that we were on an earlier flight (by about 90 minutes, I believe). How that mistake happened we still don’t know, but after checking with our travel agent the correct information was verified that we were on a later flight. Still, the drive to the airport was terrible as traffic was at a standstill. The manager at the Acorn House had informed us that it wouldn’t take long at all to go to the airport during the time of day we would be traveling. This was just another of the numerous small bumps and annoyances that occurred after our accident. We were hoping for a smooth time to finish up the trip, but little problems kept popping up. Like the first night we spent at Acorn House. We woke up the next morning in the cold! Seemed like the power went out to our room overnight so we had no heat. Then there was no hot water in the shower, so here I am walking across the property in a towel going to use a shower in an unoccupied room! The Robben Island disappointment, overcharging taxi driver - luckily time works in such a way that after only a week or two the memories that remain strongest are usually the pleasant ones. We did make the airport in plenty of time and arrived back into Amsterdam the morning of the 14th. It took about a month for the glue to completely disappear from my scalp, and just a little longer for the last remnant of a thorn to work it’s way out of the heel of my left foot that I picked up on the first day at Sesriem. Since returning, I did considerable research and discovered the accident and death rates in Namibia in general and especially the area where our accident occurred are very high. I’ve communicated with several Namibian authorities concerning the terrible lack of preventative measures industry, tourism, and the government take in order to alert and safeguard automobile travel there. Our rental agent, Aloe Car Hire, accepted no responsibility in providing us with any information or briefing on driving in the country. The owners were not even present when we picked up the vehicle, leaving duties to a person who had difficulty speaking English. I would strongly caution anyone visiting the country to take extra caution there. If I knew the accident and death rates, along with other advisories and warnings that some other car agents give to their clients, I would’ve taken added care while driving.
I’ve finished this story of our African adventure and am ready to go back any time. A great experience – a truly unique one from any other. I can say that Alaska (2000) and Norway (2008) were both beautiful and very similar. European cities do have their distinctive flavors, but similarities are there too. Africa (Botswana and Namibia) is almost a different planet. It’s not just the wildlife and game, but the people, landscape, the feeling you get by being there. So many times we said “When people say they’re in the middle of nowhere, this is what they really meant!” Namibia is the most sparsely populated country on the planet, and you can feel that in most places. The US is big, and driving across Kansas, through the Everglades, or so many other places where people are scarce is an experience, but what we felt in Africa was quite different and perhaps a little tricky to convey. But we would go there again, for sure. Jen is eyeballing Kenya next year…we’ll see.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?trackingid=BTAGC&rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid&galleryid=26b3e5a857644ba1965196ce2cd82d4b
We found our way to Aloe Car Rental after the 4-hour drive. We were already not happy with them due to what we perceived as their preoccupation with the state of the vehicle and the amount we owed them for the insurance, with little to no interest in our condition resulting from the accident. Radhika had told me that as I was getting my IV from the EMT, she was talking to the Aloe owner, who was telling her how much we owed them for the damage, without any inquiry or concern regarding our health. No class move there. After a brief shouting match between us and Hertie and Surita, the German owner and his wife, I said we were short on time and needed to get all the paper work done so we could get to the airport and make our flight. We still had to stop at the police station to make an accident report. The police station was supposedly along the route to the airport, but it did seem a little out of the way, and a long line waited for us as we (Surita, Hertie’s wife went with us) arrived. Surita was being non-complementary towards local law enforcement and I soon learned why. We skipped the long line as Surita explained that we were on our way to the airport and had to make a flight. The place was a madhouse, and the woman who was helping us (if you can call it that) ignored us, turned her back, talked with colleagues, and was loathe to answer questions. It was the worst encounter I have ever experienced with a law enforcement organization anywhere. It was embarrassing for them, the city, and the country. The accident report was a joke. We couldn’t get out of there soon enough. I told all of the people waiting in line I felt sorry for them as we left the building. Radhika was “shooshing” me all the way out. We had been told by the ambulance crew that the police in Windhoek were “lazy”, and indeed they are.
We parted ways with Surita and without delay made haste to the airport. Dropping off Radhika at departures, I was fortunate to be able to turn in the rental with relative ease. We both got on the flight with less than 10 minutes to spare. Any hiccup along the way would’ve meant another missed flight. We were happy to be out of Namibia and hoped our now even more abbreviated visit to Cape Town would wrap up the trip on a good note. Jan had already been there a day, but was relocating to where we had originally made reservations. She had arrived the day before, but her flight out of Windhoek had been delayed to where she didn’t touch down in Cape Town until close to midnight. By then she couldn’t pick up the rental car I had reserved or make it to the place we had reserved for our first night’s accommodation, so she got a place not far from the airport. We were picked up at Cape Town airport and taken to Acorn House, a B&B style house not far from Table Mountain. It was early evening, but we stayed in and enjoyed the atmosphere and relaxed a bit after our last 48 hours. We would get a fresh start the next morning.
After an early breakfast we went to the Cape Town waterfront. It is the nicest, prettiest city we would visit. We shopped a little and ate lunch before heading to the dock where the Robben Island tour departed from. This one of the main attractions to do here in Cape Town: a visit to where Nelson Mandela spent over two decades of his life. What a disappointment!! The ferry ride there and back was nice. From there you are put on a cramped bus and listen to a narrator drone on, make attempts at tasteless jokes, see little of interest, and waste precious time at the only stop made mostly so you can buy drinks or trinkets in a shop. We finally get to walk around with a group led by a former prisoner, and while part of that is interesting, much of it is not. I tried to stand close, as it was difficult to hear and understand his words when he spoke. There was also information on prisoners when we went into cellblocks, but were moved so quickly through it that one couldn’t take the time to read much about the history or people attached to this place. I got fed up and went out on my own for a while, reading what I wanted and making pictures. We were no more than cattle whisked from place to place with very limited time to absorb and enjoy. Awful treatment and management of such an important and solemn place. The three of us were sick with disappointment.
A cab took us to where we picked up our rental car, as we would be driving a couple of hours east to a small coastal town that was part of our original itinerary. We should be able to do some whale watching from shore and other relaxing activities. Jen had made the reservation, so she drove us all to Hermanus Bay. We arrived there in the evening after stopping at a service station for final directions to the B&B’s location. It was a really nice property located right on the coast. We just chilled out in the hotel and our rooms, with Jen retiring quite early. We stayed up several hours more reading and relaxing. The next morning we would eat breakfast and walk across the 2-lane road to the coast. There were rocks and boulders along the shore to scramble over, and a trail that was a nice walk with occasional rests on provided benches with views of the bay. We could see flukes and fins, hear the sound and see the spray as whales came up for air. When whales were sighted, a person armed with a horn, the Whale Crier, would blow his or her Kelp Horn, alerting people that whales were in the vicinity. It was pretty cool to hear that medium-pitched moan echo across the bay. The walk was peppered with great expansive views of the bay coupled with smaller “micro-worlds” of colorful flowers. We kept an eye on the time, as we had to be back in Cape Town that evening in time to return the car and get back to Acorn House. I wanted to make a slow drive back along the coast as I had read it was very beautiful, so we wrapped up our trailblazing and hopped in the car to head west along the coastal road.
We took some roads off the main one when the possibility of something promising appeared, sometimes rewarding us and other times deciding that it would be better to return to our known route as not to get confused or turned around. We stumbled upon a penguin sign, and following it led us to a neat little park where we paid a small entrance fee to check out the little stinkers. And boy do they ever! Good thing the wind was strong near the coast. We spent quite a while walking the wooden walkway built several meters above ground level that went all the way out almost to the tip of the rocks where water met land. They are clowns. They don’t appear to do much; it’s just that everything they do is funny. Just standing still, they are a riot. You can really make an imagined conversation between them with the way they look and interact. I’ll show you what I mean in the album that I put together for this post.
After our penguin encounter, we headed back for Cape Town, which wasn’t too far away now. We came in on the main highway, and along the perimeter of the highway were shantytowns, where hundreds of people lived. Just as in Johannesburg, it seemed straight out of “District 9”. I tried to fire off a few exposures from our speeding car. We easily found the rental place, turned in the car, and took a taxi to where we had dinner reservations. We first had drum lessons with a small group of other diners, and then ate dinner in a large room while a dancer and show entertained every 15 minutes, or so. It was late by the time we left the restaurant, so we almost immediately went to bed when we returned to the B&B. The next evening we would leave, but the morning would be spent at Table Mountain, our last adventure coming on the 13th of August, our 15th wedding anniversary.
Jen left before us for the mountain, as she wanted to hike up it. We were content to take the cable car up so we had breakfast and then had a cab take us up to the Table Mountain drop-off. We got our tickets and too the car up. As you elevate you also slowly rotate clockwise, so everyone gets to see all of the views. We walked around once at the top and then took a trail to a distant point that was a good hike across uneven terrain. Keeping an eye on time to get back to Acorn House for the ride to the airport, we left in plenty of time, getting a cab immediately upon returning to ground level. We got back to the B&B where there was a bit of a panic. Jen had called the airline to confirm our flight and was told that we were on an earlier flight (by about 90 minutes, I believe). How that mistake happened we still don’t know, but after checking with our travel agent the correct information was verified that we were on a later flight. Still, the drive to the airport was terrible as traffic was at a standstill. The manager at the Acorn House had informed us that it wouldn’t take long at all to go to the airport during the time of day we would be traveling. This was just another of the numerous small bumps and annoyances that occurred after our accident. We were hoping for a smooth time to finish up the trip, but little problems kept popping up. Like the first night we spent at Acorn House. We woke up the next morning in the cold! Seemed like the power went out to our room overnight so we had no heat. Then there was no hot water in the shower, so here I am walking across the property in a towel going to use a shower in an unoccupied room! The Robben Island disappointment, overcharging taxi driver - luckily time works in such a way that after only a week or two the memories that remain strongest are usually the pleasant ones. We did make the airport in plenty of time and arrived back into Amsterdam the morning of the 14th. It took about a month for the glue to completely disappear from my scalp, and just a little longer for the last remnant of a thorn to work it’s way out of the heel of my left foot that I picked up on the first day at Sesriem. Since returning, I did considerable research and discovered the accident and death rates in Namibia in general and especially the area where our accident occurred are very high. I’ve communicated with several Namibian authorities concerning the terrible lack of preventative measures industry, tourism, and the government take in order to alert and safeguard automobile travel there. Our rental agent, Aloe Car Hire, accepted no responsibility in providing us with any information or briefing on driving in the country. The owners were not even present when we picked up the vehicle, leaving duties to a person who had difficulty speaking English. I would strongly caution anyone visiting the country to take extra caution there. If I knew the accident and death rates, along with other advisories and warnings that some other car agents give to their clients, I would’ve taken added care while driving.
I’ve finished this story of our African adventure and am ready to go back any time. A great experience – a truly unique one from any other. I can say that Alaska (2000) and Norway (2008) were both beautiful and very similar. European cities do have their distinctive flavors, but similarities are there too. Africa (Botswana and Namibia) is almost a different planet. It’s not just the wildlife and game, but the people, landscape, the feeling you get by being there. So many times we said “When people say they’re in the middle of nowhere, this is what they really meant!” Namibia is the most sparsely populated country on the planet, and you can feel that in most places. The US is big, and driving across Kansas, through the Everglades, or so many other places where people are scarce is an experience, but what we felt in Africa was quite different and perhaps a little tricky to convey. But we would go there again, for sure. Jen is eyeballing Kenya next year…we’ll see.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?trackingid=BTAGC&rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid&galleryid=26b3e5a857644ba1965196ce2cd82d4b
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Africa - Part 13 (Sesriem Day 2)
We woke up around the same time as the day before but managed to reach the gate sooner. However, more vehicles were ahead of us in line, so we weren't in the group that went in when the gate opened. We had to be checked individually. This being our last day we wanted to start early so we had plenty of time to get to Windhoek, turn in the truck and make the airport without any stress. We figured we would have to leave the area by 11am to catch our 5:40 departure. We got through the gate and followed along the main road as we did the prior morning. We were going back to Sossusvlei, and going to attempt a climb to the top of "Big Daddy", one of the biggest dunes in the area. We drove past Dune 45, with the sign for Hidden Vlei coming before we reached Dead Vlei and Sossusvlei. Perhaps I was driving too slowly, but we got bogged down in a patch of soft sand. Yesterday it was no problem - go figure. I got out and dug around the tires, and as I did a safari shuttle passed with a family. One of the 2 kids started laughing and pointing in our direction. I yelled some chastising words, the laughter stopped, as did the driver. His assistant, I assume, walked over asking if he could help but I had already dug away enough sand, so I said I was going to drive it out but he could if he liked. He did, and we were on our way. The people in the safari vehicle did not look our way as we pulled up beside of them. I was a bit pissed at the behavior of what I now recognized as their son, younger than their daughter. We parked and started our way to climb Big Daddy. They were apparently going there too. I was fully expecting either the child or one of the parents to address us and apologize for the rude behavior, but nothing was said, which only irritated me further. They were ahead of us, but Mom wasn't doing so well with her climb so we passed them, telling the father as I passed he should keep an eye on me as I might send him down the dune the fast way. I thought they were German and the chance they knew what I was saying was 50-50 at best, but Radhika recognized it was Dutch they were actually speaking, so it's certain they all knew exactly what I was saying. As we made our way along, the kids made their way past us several times, stopping to remove sand from their shoes as we passed them, and then removing their shoes entirely which had us passing them again. I was making a picture of Radhika on the top of the dune as she stood in front of me and the little pains in the ass ran by me and into my frame. I had already said something to them once about doing that, this time I just told them to stay the hell out of the way. Again, parents said and did nothing. We were both annoyed by these rude pests and their clueless parents. It's been my observation and there's some consensus during discussions when this topic arises that the Dutch spoil, and allow their children great latitude when it comes to their behavior. Of course that's not all, because our landlord seems to have two very sweet daughters. But I have seen tantrums here unlike any I've seen in the states. Small kids taking roundhouse swings at their parents. You ask a Dutch child in a theater to please stop talking and they look at you like you're the rude one! Anyway, we developed some distance from this group and went on.
There was still quite a distance to go, and I told Radhika that I was going to stop, as I was exhausted (and when I begin asking myself "why am I doing this?" and "am I enjoying this?” I know I've checked out). She went on, as the wind started to whip up a little stronger. I ran down the side of the dune all the way to the bottom, zigzagging as I went to make a cool pattern in the sand. Once at the bottom, I took off my shoes and emptied the ample amount of sand that had made it's way in. My shoes still felt oddly tight on my feet, however. It seems the sand had made it's way between layers and stitching, and nestled inside little pockets, what with the sand being so fine and powdery. I banged them in all different directions, and the sand finally came out in sufficient amount that I had a little more room in them when I got them back on. Radhika eventually came back down, saying she had not made it to the top, disappointingly for her, as the wind was getting very strong up there. So, we decided to walk back to the truck, as it was about 10 or so, and we had spent the better part of three hours out there. The wind was whipping up with each passing minute, and by the time we were at the truck the wind was blowing hard, visibility was dropping, and sand was flying at skin-stinging speed. We were in the beginnings of a sand storm. I slid into the drivers seat quickly, and turned the truck into the wind so Radhika could get in without filling the cab with the blowing sand. People were still walking out to the dunes, which I thought was not the brightest idea with the deteriorating conditions. We started off back, navigating a couple of the really soft sandy areas, but visibility dropped to near zero so I stopped the truck on the first hard-packed area we encountered and waited several minutes for it to clear up enough to see where we were going. Never have been in anything like that before! I was nervous and cautious. I needed to build up a little speed to get through the worst area of soft, deep sand, so no visibility means no reaction time to stop if we come upon a vehicle coming from the opposite direction. Getting stuck in the sand now was even less desirable than normal, because working outside would be tough and dangerous. Finally there was a break and visibility improved. We didn't have far to go, so with Radhika's eyes and input, we sped through the worst part and made it to the paved road. Visibility remained poor until we were past the dune area what with all the sand there was to be moved around by the high winds. We stopped at our camp for bathroom breaks and drove on, as we were right on schedule. It remained windy for us as we drove, but visibility became clear. However, about an hour later something happened that might be partially due to a burst of wind.
We were driving on a dirt road, which 90% of the roads in Namibia are constructed. It was a wide, hard-packed, smooth road with a posted speed limit of 100kph. Driving on a straight course, all of a sudden, gradually, the truck started veering to the right with the rear end of the truck slowly swinging left. We began to spin in a clock-wise direction. After what seemed like a few moments we were in the middle of the road moving in the direction of the right side, and "Oh shit." was all I said. I could see the banks of sand on both sides of the road that were made by the grader. If we stayed in the middle and just spun we would be okay, eventually coming to a stop or regaining traction with the road. But we continued to drift to the right side, and by the time we got to the edge we were traveling backwards, having made a 180-degree revolution. We hit the bank of dirt and immediately began to roll with force and violence. My hands were remained firmly on the wheel as the earth rotated before me through the windshield. But as windows blew out and the windshield smashed, dirt and sand inundated the cab. As I closed my eyes to keep the sand out, we hit hard upside down and I felt the top of my head hit something. It was painful enough for me to note it but not overpowering enough to distract me from what was happening. We continued to roll, as I loudly heard the crashing and impact sounds of what was happening, felt the discombobulating effects of the rolling vehicle, and felt the sand and debris swirling and hitting my face. After rolling twice completely, coming to a stop back on our wheels, I opened my eyes to destruction. I immediately turned to Radhika and asked if she was okay. She looked at me, and her expression, one I haven't seen before in 20+ years, conveyed immediate fear. She said I was bleeding, and was I ever. I felt the top of my head and it was warm and wet. Blood was all over me, my clothes, the dashboard, on her, and on the underlining. She grabbed the towel we had just bought a few days prior and I placed it on the top of my head and held it there. A small truck was coming down the road from the direction we had just been traveling, and I knocked out the small remaining pieces of glass in my window and flagged it down. I couldn't open my door so I made my way through the window. Radhika had to kick open her door. There was stuff from the truck strewn everywhere on the desert sand. The truck now faced the direction from which we came. My camera backpack and tripod was next to a prickly bush covered in sand, the laptop backpack was outside the vehicle, the tent and topper came off the bed, of course, and camping equipment was everywhere. The man stopped, and the 3 of us started picking up and putting stuff into the back of his truck. I continued to hold the towel and apply pressure with my left hand to the top of my head. The guy took us to a lodge 7km north in Solitaire, where we were given a room. I just stayed put while Radhika took care of everything. She was a trouper through the entire ordeal, staying strong after seeing her husband injured as I was, and handling everything and making necessary decisions.
The manager of the Solitaire Lodge inspected my head, and relayed what he saw to medical staff in Walvis Bay. I later learned it was at this time when they decided whether to fly me out or use ground transport. We had to wait for an ambulance to come from the nearest hospital, which was in Walvis Bay. Their expected arrival time was around 5pm. Radhika had some food delivered to the room from the restaurant, and as I felt better I was able to eat something. I was covered in sand, so feeling better also enabled me to shower, and Radhika carefully poured small amounts of water from a cup over my wound to remove as much sand as she could. I then waited comfortably in the room as the wind continued to howl outside. I was feeling almost back to normal when I noticed what looked like an EMT near the lodge courtyard. It was only 4pm, but they were here already. As I was asked questions about how I was feeling, the three men from Walvis Bay readied me for travel, placing an IV on me, putting a bandage on my head, and putting me on a gurney. It would be a three-hour drive back to their hospital, where I was told I would be overnight. They were able to accommodate our baggage in the ambulance, which at first we were told they might not be able to do. That was a big relief when they said it was no problem. I drifted in and out of sleep as we traveled across the bumpy and sometimes twisty dirt roads. They made one stop for a cigarette break (they checked my condition, but that seemed secondary to the need for nicotine). So I figured I couldn't be too bad off (right?). Radhika sat up front with the lead EMT who was driving, while the other two were in the back with me. They say they are in the area several times a week for vehicle accidents such as ours! And when we tried to pay the lodge for the room and food they wouldn't take it, saying they are there to help and can't take payment in that situation.
We arrived at the hospital right around 7pm, approximately 8 hours after the accident. I was checked out by a very nice "sister", which is the term used for a nurse most other places, and a doctor. I received several shots to numb the area and a spray was also used. The sister used a straight razor to shave part the area around the gash, and that was the most painful part of the treatment I received. Cleaning and disinfecting wasn't as painful, and the actual stitching felt more "weird" than painful. Never had anyone pull my scalp away from my skull before (although there was that kinky girl I dated a long time ago who had a scalp fetish). Radhika was allowed to stay in the room with me as they worked on me, and even made some photographs. If you are not comfortable with a visual rendition of what I just described, I suggest you don't go past the pictures of the damage to the truck when viewing the accompanying album. The doctor said I was lucky, as a major vein was narrowly missed. If that had been severed, he said my situation would have been dire. It seems blood vessels under the scalp do not collapse when cut, so loss of blood would've been a major problem. After the stitches were in place, nine to be exact, they placed a "glue" over them. That would help keep the skin together and protect it from infection as it heals. As it turned out I didn’t have to stay overnight. With a few suggestions coming from hospital staff, we got a taxi and had two hotels to consider for our overnight in Walvis Bay. The first had no availability, but the 2nd one did. We got a room, and the dinner buffet was kept open a little longer than their cut off time due to Radhika's request. So we ate dinner and retired for the night in a pretty nice room, which we both really needed after the day we had. The accident was replayed in my head over and over again that night until I fell asleep. I was still a little angry and befuddled about the accident - how did it happen? We were only about three hours away from turning in the truck and then catching our flight to Cape Town! I was so happy that Radhika was unharmed. That thought occupied my head throughout the afternoon and beyond. Turned out she was a little bruised. She was somewhat stressed by the event, but we both got a good nights sleep. We would wake tomorrow and figure how to go the four hours east to Windhoek and catch our flight, 24 hours delayed, to Cape Town.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=f48795f8b77d4f8fb1468268bd4eacd9&trackingid=BTAGC&rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid
There was still quite a distance to go, and I told Radhika that I was going to stop, as I was exhausted (and when I begin asking myself "why am I doing this?" and "am I enjoying this?” I know I've checked out). She went on, as the wind started to whip up a little stronger. I ran down the side of the dune all the way to the bottom, zigzagging as I went to make a cool pattern in the sand. Once at the bottom, I took off my shoes and emptied the ample amount of sand that had made it's way in. My shoes still felt oddly tight on my feet, however. It seems the sand had made it's way between layers and stitching, and nestled inside little pockets, what with the sand being so fine and powdery. I banged them in all different directions, and the sand finally came out in sufficient amount that I had a little more room in them when I got them back on. Radhika eventually came back down, saying she had not made it to the top, disappointingly for her, as the wind was getting very strong up there. So, we decided to walk back to the truck, as it was about 10 or so, and we had spent the better part of three hours out there. The wind was whipping up with each passing minute, and by the time we were at the truck the wind was blowing hard, visibility was dropping, and sand was flying at skin-stinging speed. We were in the beginnings of a sand storm. I slid into the drivers seat quickly, and turned the truck into the wind so Radhika could get in without filling the cab with the blowing sand. People were still walking out to the dunes, which I thought was not the brightest idea with the deteriorating conditions. We started off back, navigating a couple of the really soft sandy areas, but visibility dropped to near zero so I stopped the truck on the first hard-packed area we encountered and waited several minutes for it to clear up enough to see where we were going. Never have been in anything like that before! I was nervous and cautious. I needed to build up a little speed to get through the worst area of soft, deep sand, so no visibility means no reaction time to stop if we come upon a vehicle coming from the opposite direction. Getting stuck in the sand now was even less desirable than normal, because working outside would be tough and dangerous. Finally there was a break and visibility improved. We didn't have far to go, so with Radhika's eyes and input, we sped through the worst part and made it to the paved road. Visibility remained poor until we were past the dune area what with all the sand there was to be moved around by the high winds. We stopped at our camp for bathroom breaks and drove on, as we were right on schedule. It remained windy for us as we drove, but visibility became clear. However, about an hour later something happened that might be partially due to a burst of wind.
We were driving on a dirt road, which 90% of the roads in Namibia are constructed. It was a wide, hard-packed, smooth road with a posted speed limit of 100kph. Driving on a straight course, all of a sudden, gradually, the truck started veering to the right with the rear end of the truck slowly swinging left. We began to spin in a clock-wise direction. After what seemed like a few moments we were in the middle of the road moving in the direction of the right side, and "Oh shit." was all I said. I could see the banks of sand on both sides of the road that were made by the grader. If we stayed in the middle and just spun we would be okay, eventually coming to a stop or regaining traction with the road. But we continued to drift to the right side, and by the time we got to the edge we were traveling backwards, having made a 180-degree revolution. We hit the bank of dirt and immediately began to roll with force and violence. My hands were remained firmly on the wheel as the earth rotated before me through the windshield. But as windows blew out and the windshield smashed, dirt and sand inundated the cab. As I closed my eyes to keep the sand out, we hit hard upside down and I felt the top of my head hit something. It was painful enough for me to note it but not overpowering enough to distract me from what was happening. We continued to roll, as I loudly heard the crashing and impact sounds of what was happening, felt the discombobulating effects of the rolling vehicle, and felt the sand and debris swirling and hitting my face. After rolling twice completely, coming to a stop back on our wheels, I opened my eyes to destruction. I immediately turned to Radhika and asked if she was okay. She looked at me, and her expression, one I haven't seen before in 20+ years, conveyed immediate fear. She said I was bleeding, and was I ever. I felt the top of my head and it was warm and wet. Blood was all over me, my clothes, the dashboard, on her, and on the underlining. She grabbed the towel we had just bought a few days prior and I placed it on the top of my head and held it there. A small truck was coming down the road from the direction we had just been traveling, and I knocked out the small remaining pieces of glass in my window and flagged it down. I couldn't open my door so I made my way through the window. Radhika had to kick open her door. There was stuff from the truck strewn everywhere on the desert sand. The truck now faced the direction from which we came. My camera backpack and tripod was next to a prickly bush covered in sand, the laptop backpack was outside the vehicle, the tent and topper came off the bed, of course, and camping equipment was everywhere. The man stopped, and the 3 of us started picking up and putting stuff into the back of his truck. I continued to hold the towel and apply pressure with my left hand to the top of my head. The guy took us to a lodge 7km north in Solitaire, where we were given a room. I just stayed put while Radhika took care of everything. She was a trouper through the entire ordeal, staying strong after seeing her husband injured as I was, and handling everything and making necessary decisions.
The manager of the Solitaire Lodge inspected my head, and relayed what he saw to medical staff in Walvis Bay. I later learned it was at this time when they decided whether to fly me out or use ground transport. We had to wait for an ambulance to come from the nearest hospital, which was in Walvis Bay. Their expected arrival time was around 5pm. Radhika had some food delivered to the room from the restaurant, and as I felt better I was able to eat something. I was covered in sand, so feeling better also enabled me to shower, and Radhika carefully poured small amounts of water from a cup over my wound to remove as much sand as she could. I then waited comfortably in the room as the wind continued to howl outside. I was feeling almost back to normal when I noticed what looked like an EMT near the lodge courtyard. It was only 4pm, but they were here already. As I was asked questions about how I was feeling, the three men from Walvis Bay readied me for travel, placing an IV on me, putting a bandage on my head, and putting me on a gurney. It would be a three-hour drive back to their hospital, where I was told I would be overnight. They were able to accommodate our baggage in the ambulance, which at first we were told they might not be able to do. That was a big relief when they said it was no problem. I drifted in and out of sleep as we traveled across the bumpy and sometimes twisty dirt roads. They made one stop for a cigarette break (they checked my condition, but that seemed secondary to the need for nicotine). So I figured I couldn't be too bad off (right?). Radhika sat up front with the lead EMT who was driving, while the other two were in the back with me. They say they are in the area several times a week for vehicle accidents such as ours! And when we tried to pay the lodge for the room and food they wouldn't take it, saying they are there to help and can't take payment in that situation.
We arrived at the hospital right around 7pm, approximately 8 hours after the accident. I was checked out by a very nice "sister", which is the term used for a nurse most other places, and a doctor. I received several shots to numb the area and a spray was also used. The sister used a straight razor to shave part the area around the gash, and that was the most painful part of the treatment I received. Cleaning and disinfecting wasn't as painful, and the actual stitching felt more "weird" than painful. Never had anyone pull my scalp away from my skull before (although there was that kinky girl I dated a long time ago who had a scalp fetish). Radhika was allowed to stay in the room with me as they worked on me, and even made some photographs. If you are not comfortable with a visual rendition of what I just described, I suggest you don't go past the pictures of the damage to the truck when viewing the accompanying album. The doctor said I was lucky, as a major vein was narrowly missed. If that had been severed, he said my situation would have been dire. It seems blood vessels under the scalp do not collapse when cut, so loss of blood would've been a major problem. After the stitches were in place, nine to be exact, they placed a "glue" over them. That would help keep the skin together and protect it from infection as it heals. As it turned out I didn’t have to stay overnight. With a few suggestions coming from hospital staff, we got a taxi and had two hotels to consider for our overnight in Walvis Bay. The first had no availability, but the 2nd one did. We got a room, and the dinner buffet was kept open a little longer than their cut off time due to Radhika's request. So we ate dinner and retired for the night in a pretty nice room, which we both really needed after the day we had. The accident was replayed in my head over and over again that night until I fell asleep. I was still a little angry and befuddled about the accident - how did it happen? We were only about three hours away from turning in the truck and then catching our flight to Cape Town! I was so happy that Radhika was unharmed. That thought occupied my head throughout the afternoon and beyond. Turned out she was a little bruised. She was somewhat stressed by the event, but we both got a good nights sleep. We would wake tomorrow and figure how to go the four hours east to Windhoek and catch our flight, 24 hours delayed, to Cape Town.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=f48795f8b77d4f8fb1468268bd4eacd9&trackingid=BTAGC&rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid
Friday, September 24, 2010
Africa - Part 12 (Sesriem Day 1)
We arrived at the Sesriem Camp without too much confusion, as the signage was fairly easy to follow. It was early enough in the day where we had a couple of hours until dark, which is a good thing because it took a while to check in at reception and work out going into the park in the morning. Fortunately, in contrast to what was indicated on the internet, they had a small food store located in the same building as the reception, and the prices were surprising under the "gouge" area. I bought 6 bottles of ice-cold beer that went down oh so good once we set up our camp. We were right across from the camp pool, which was small and moderate in comparison to the ones we saw in Etosha. The ablutions weren't too far either, so it was a convenient spot. It's still 70km to Sossusvlei once you get past the gate into the park, which is right at our camp. This entire area is all part of the Namib Desert, and it's considered the driest area on the planet. How that's measured compared to Death Valley, the Sahara, or any other places is beyond my knowledge, but I can vouch for its dryness. We cooked burgers using a campfire for the first time, as we purchased wood and starting material before coming to Sesriem. The night sky was showing the same spectacular show it had in Damaraland and Etosha, only more so as the artificial light was almost non-existent here. The night was cooler here in the desert, and we had to get up around 4am to be at the gate around 4:45 when it opened and allowed the line of vehicles in, as all made a bee-line to the two main stops, Dune 45, where most of the tourists go, and farther into the park to where Hidden and Dead Vlei were located. To get there you needed your own 4X4 or you parked your vehicle in the lot and took a camp provided 4X4 for a fee or walked it yourself.
After a chilly night's sleep we woke up early to be in the line of vehicles that wait at the gate for the park to open. Getting up early did have one unexpected benefit: it being dark at 4am I could change out of my pj's and into my clothes right at the truck. Changing in the cramped tent was a major pain, and bringing up my clothes for the next day into an already small area was a nuisance. Hardly anyone was awake or near us, so it was much easier than inside the tent. It was an eye-opener too; because that cold morning air hitting the sleeping bag warmed skin of mine snapped my heart into the day! We skipped breakfast, delaying it to later in the morning when we got the first chance. The fact that we were carrying our food around in the truck with us made it easy. We got into line, perhaps the 5th or 6th car at the gate and many more lined up behind us as the morning light just began to turn the eastern horizon deep purple. The guard made his way to each vehicle, checking to make sure the correct paperwork was in hand that showed payment to enter had been made, which we had done the afternoon before. I would say he got to #10 in line, and then he ran back to the gate to allow those he had checked go in. The others would have to wait and allowed access one-by-one as they were verified at the gate. The first group drove into the lifting darkness, and as we penetrated deeper and farther east into the park, the light began to bathe the contours of the dunes in great colors. The speed limit was 60kph, which we were traveling at. However, we noticed the group that started ahead had put some distance between then and us, and some that started behind were passing us. For a while we drove the limit, but then, especially as the light became bright enough to illuminate the landscape I kicked up the speed a little. We passed Dune 45, and there were tourists on it already, almost halfway up. Most if not all the vehicles turned off at Dune 45, it seemed. We pressed on, and after a while came upon a sign that indicated the direction of Dead Vlei. This was the area that was highly recommended by a photographer whose work I found online. There was only one 4X4 truck there, as I had no trouble navigating the soft sand between the car park where you must stop if you are driving a non-4X4 vehicle, and Dead Vlei. We actually passed one of the safari shuttles stuck in the sand along the way. The people that we assumed were the occupants of the truck were already making their way into the dunes. It was a clear, quiet morning with the light becoming more intense and higher in the sky with each passing minute, so we started our way in, following the prints they were making in the sand. I was carrying my backpack with my photo gear of course, and the weight of that pack along with the sandy hills induced a few flashbacks to basic training.
I had been on sand dunes before in the Canary Islands and near the Indian/Pakistan border, but these were quite different. The look, feel, orientation, and, of course, the size. Supposedly the tallest in the world, it was an incredible rush to hike along the crest of one as we did. Coming down the other side in a type of broken run was cool. I had my Columbia hiking shoes tied tightly, so I was pretty lucky (and surprised) that I had minimal sand intrusion. Some steps had my legs sinking calf-deep. We got to the bottom much faster than it took to scale up the dune, of course. We had to go over a few small ridges before finding our way to the bottom or open, dry, bed where water does accumulate when there's enough rain. You can tell water is there sometimes from the cracked earth and animal hoof prints embedded into the crust like the walk of fame in Hollywood. I'm finding it difficult to verbally describe the scene, as visuals are the only true way of conveying what it's like to stand there, in the silence, light hitting the far side of the dune but the shadow cast by the nearside dune covering the cracked-earth floor. We walked and climbed around the area for several hours until we got hungry and the light became too harsh, so we walked back to where the truck was parked. By now there were many more vehicles there, and I moved the truck from the direct sun to under one of the few trees. We set up our table, brought out 2 chairs, and ate the sandwiches we made and had some ice cold drinks in the heat of the day. It was fantastic, with both of us expressing how perfect a cold, Windhoek beer was after our morning. Radhika ended up in the cab, reclining the seat, and having herself a little nap. I chilled out in one of our camping chairs sans shirt and unzipped the legs off the hiking pants getting some Namibian desert sun. That was THE life at that moment, until I heard the clicking of a shutter discovering someone felt the need to photograph me half asleep.
We had visited Sossusvlei and Dead Vlei in the morning, and now we were considering what to do with the afternoon. You can't really see the dunes at sunset, because that's when the gates close and it's at least an hour back to the gate from the Dead Vlei area. The road continues on past Dead Vlei, but I never read anything online that indicated there were sights to be seen there. However, Radhika wanted to check it out so we left our picnic area and drove in further - but not much. We came to an area where I saw a lot of soft sand, and before proceeding further I got out, walking ahead and onto a small rise where I could see more of what was ahead. I saw nothing but sand, sand, and more sand. I turned around, but Radhika was still insistent. I stopped and spoke with two of the safari drivers, asking them what was back there to see. Both said "Nothing", and that was good enough for me. We decided to head back towards our camp and checkout Hidden Vlei, which was on the way and then Sesriem Canyon, which was right near our campsite. Hidden Vlei is where the vehicle park is for those who are not using a 4WD, so we parked there. One of the safari guides waiting in his truck said we have to follow the poles painted black on top that are stuck in the ground. They would lead us to Hidden Vlei. It was a long walk there, passing several interesting formations along the way. Hidden Vlei is not visited by most, as it is a hike to get to compared with the other more accessible places of interest. I would guess it is a 30-minute hike if you don't stop to make pictures, so it was longer for me. It was quiet out there and not another soul around. Overall it was probably close to two hours roundtrip. We made the drive back and parked in the lot along with several other vehicles. We got out and could hear voices in the canyon below. It is not a deep canyon by any comparison. At this point it looked no deeper than 30 feet where people were walking along a trail. We decided to go down and check it out, having several hours of daylight left which should be plenty of time to satisfy our curiosity and get back to the truck. We walked along the route that others were taking, contoured, rocky, some steps to climb, grainy sandy areas - quite an uneventful hike in retrospect. Where we came out of the canyon there was a group of people seemingly being led by an African gentleman. We started to go back the parking lot alongside but outside the canyon, but then the path looked over grown, so we decided to turn around and follow this other group assuming they would get us back to the lot. After a few minutes however, we determined they were not going to the lot but what looked like a lodge. So we quickly decided to just head back the way we came, as the day was getting darker now. No one else was in the canyon now, we were on our own and keeping a steady pace. We got back to the truck, the only vehicle left in the lot, right as the sun was setting on the horizon. A few minutes drive and we were back at our campsite getting ready for dinner and showers. Tomorrow, we would do the same thing over again in the morning and then leave the area to make the 4 to 5 hour drive back to Windhoek, turning in the truck and catching our flight out of Namibia and going south to Cape Town.
The album for this post can be found at: We arrived at the Sesriem Camp without too much confusion, as the signage was fairly easy to follow. It was early enough in the day where we had a couple of hours until dark, which is a good thing because it took a while to check in at reception and work out going into the park in the morning. Fortunately, in contrast to what was indicated on the internet, they had a small food store located in the same building as the reception, and the prices were surprising under the "gouge" area. I bought 6 bottles of ice-cold beer that went down oh so good once we set up our camp. We were right across from the camp pool, which was small and moderate in comparison to the ones we saw in Etosha. The ablutions weren't too far either, so it was a convenient spot. It's still 70km to Sossusvlei once you get past the gate into the park, which is right at our camp. This entire area is all part of the Namib Desert, and it's considered the driest area on the planet. How that's measured compared to Death Valley, the Sahara, or any other places is beyond my knowledge, but I can vouch for its dryness. We cooked burgers using a campfire for the first time, as we purchased wood and starting material before coming to Sesriem. The night sky was showing the same spectacular show it had in Damaraland and Etosha, only more so as the artificial light was almost non-existent here. The night was cooler here in the desert, and we had to get up around 4am to be at the gate around 4:45 when it opened and allowed the line of vehicles in, as all made a bee-line to the two main stops, Dune 45, where most of the tourists go, and farther into the park to where Hidden and Dead Vlei were located. To get there you needed your own 4X4 or you parked your vehicle in the lot and took a camp provided 4X4 for a fee or walked it yourself.
After a chilly night's sleep we woke up early to be in the line of vehicles that wait at the gate for the park to open. Getting up early did have one unexpected benefit: it being dark at 4am I could change out of my pj's and into my clothes right at the truck. Changing in the cramped tent was a major pain, and bringing up my clothes for the next day into an already small area was a nuisance. Hardly anyone was awake or near us, so it was much easier than inside the tent. It was an eye-opener too; because that cold morning air hitting the sleeping bag warmed skin of mine snapped my heart into the day! We skipped breakfast, delaying it to later in the morning when we got the first chance. The fact that we were carrying our food around in the truck with us made it easy. We got into line, perhaps the 5th or 6th car at the gate and many more lined up behind us as the morning light just began to turn the eastern horizon deep purple. The guard made his way to each vehicle, checking to make sure the correct paperwork was in hand that showed payment to enter had been made, which we had done the afternoon before. I would say he got to #10 in line, and then he ran back to the gate to allow those he had checked go in. The others would have to wait and allowed access one-by-one as they were verified at the gate. The first group drove into the lifting darkness, and as we penetrated deeper and farther east into the park, the light began to bathe the contours of the dunes in great colors. The speed limit was 60kph, which we were traveling at. However, we noticed the group that started ahead had put some distance between then and us, and some that started behind were passing us. For a while we drove the limit, but then, especially as the light became bright enough to illuminate the landscape I kicked up the speed a little. We passed Dune 45, and there were tourists on it already, almost halfway up. Most if not all the vehicles turned off at Dune 45, it seemed. We pressed on, and after a while came upon a sign that indicated the direction of Dead Vlei. This was the area that was highly recommended by a photographer whose work I found online. There was only one 4X4 truck there, as I had no trouble navigating the soft sand between the car park where you must stop if you are driving a non-4X4 vehicle, and Dead Vlei. We actually passed one of the safari shuttles stuck in the sand along the way. The people that we assumed were the occupants of the truck were already making their way into the dunes. It was a clear, quiet morning with the light becoming more intense and higher in the sky with each passing minute, so we started our way in, following the prints they were making in the sand. I was carrying my backpack with my photo gear of course, and the weight of that pack along with the sandy hills induced a few flashbacks to basic training.
I had been on sand dunes before in the Canary Islands and near the Indian/Pakistan border, but these were quite different. The look, feel, orientation, and, of course, the size. Supposedly the tallest in the world, it was an incredible rush to hike along the crest of one as we did. Coming down the other side in a type of broken run was cool. I had my Columbia hiking shoes tied tightly, so I was pretty lucky (and surprised) that I had minimal sand intrusion. Some steps had my legs sinking calf-deep. We got to the bottom much faster than it took to scale up the dune, of course. We had to go over a few small ridges before finding our way to the bottom or open, dry, bed where water does accumulate when there's enough rain. You can tell water is there sometimes from the cracked earth and animal hoof prints embedded into the crust like the walk of fame in Hollywood. I'm finding it difficult to verbally describe the scene, as visuals are the only true way of conveying what it's like to stand there, in the silence, light hitting the far side of the dune but the shadow cast by the nearside dune covering the cracked-earth floor. We walked and climbed around the area for several hours until we got hungry and the light became too harsh, so we walked back to where the truck was parked. By now there were many more vehicles there, and I moved the truck from the direct sun to under one of the few trees. We set up our table, brought out 2 chairs, and ate the sandwiches we made and had some ice cold drinks in the heat of the day. It was fantastic, with both of us expressing how perfect a cold, Windhoek beer was after our morning. Radhika ended up in the cab, reclining the seat, and having herself a little nap. I chilled out in one of our camping chairs sans shirt and unzipped the legs off the hiking pants getting some Namibian desert sun. That was THE life at that moment, until I heard the clicking of a shutter discovering someone felt the need to photograph me half asleep.
We had visited Sossusvlei and Dead Vlei in the morning, and now we were considering what to do with the afternoon. You can't really see the dunes at sunset, because that's when the gates close and it's at least an hour back to the gate from the Dead Vlei area. The road continues on past Dead Vlei, but I never read anything online that indicated there were sights to be seen there. However, Radhika wanted to check it out so we left our picnic area and drove in further - but not much. We came to an area where I saw a lot of soft sand, and before proceeding further I got out, walking ahead and onto a small rise where I could see more of what was ahead. I saw nothing but sand, sand, and more sand. I turned around, but Radhika was still insistent. I stopped and spoke with two of the safari drivers, asking them what was back there to see. Both said "Nothing", and that was good enough for me. We decided to head back towards our camp and checkout Hidden Vlei, which was on the way and then Sesriem Canyon, which was right near our campsite. Hidden Vlei is where the vehicle park is for those who are not using a 4WD, so we parked there. One of the safari guides waiting in his truck said we have to follow the poles painted black on top that are stuck in the ground. They would lead us to Hidden Vlei. It was a long walk there, passing several interesting formations along the way. Hidden Vlei is not visited by most, as it is a hike to get to compared with the other more accessible places of interest. I would guess it is a 30-minute hike if you don't stop to make pictures, so it was longer for me. It was quiet out there and not another soul around. Overall it was probably close to two hours roundtrip. We made the drive back and parked in the lot along with several other vehicles. We got out and could hear voices in the canyon below. It is not a deep canyon by any comparison. At this point it looked no deeper than 30 feet where people were walking along a trail. We decided to go down and check it out, having several hours of daylight left which should be plenty of time to satisfy our curiosity and get back to the truck. We walked along the route that others were taking, contoured, rocky, some steps to climb, grainy sandy areas - quite an uneventful hike in retrospect. Where we came out of the canyon there was a group of people seemingly being led by an African gentleman. We started to go back the parking lot alongside but outside the canyon, but then the path looked over grown, so we decided to turn around and follow this other group assuming they would get us back to the lot. After a few minutes however, we determined they were not going to the lot but what looked like a lodge. So we quickly decided to just head back the way we came, as the day was getting darker now. No one else was in the canyon now, we were on our own and keeping a steady pace. We got back to the truck, the only vehicle left in the lot, right as the sun was setting on the horizon. A few minutes drive and we were back at our campsite getting ready for dinner and showers. Tomorrow, we would do the same thing over again in the morning and then leave the area to make the 4 to 5 hour drive back to Windhoek, turning in the truck and catching our flight out of Namibia and going south to Cape Town.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?wf=sharegrid&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&galleryid=e9a66e2560914dbbaca30dc2cfc9d69a
After a chilly night's sleep we woke up early to be in the line of vehicles that wait at the gate for the park to open. Getting up early did have one unexpected benefit: it being dark at 4am I could change out of my pj's and into my clothes right at the truck. Changing in the cramped tent was a major pain, and bringing up my clothes for the next day into an already small area was a nuisance. Hardly anyone was awake or near us, so it was much easier than inside the tent. It was an eye-opener too; because that cold morning air hitting the sleeping bag warmed skin of mine snapped my heart into the day! We skipped breakfast, delaying it to later in the morning when we got the first chance. The fact that we were carrying our food around in the truck with us made it easy. We got into line, perhaps the 5th or 6th car at the gate and many more lined up behind us as the morning light just began to turn the eastern horizon deep purple. The guard made his way to each vehicle, checking to make sure the correct paperwork was in hand that showed payment to enter had been made, which we had done the afternoon before. I would say he got to #10 in line, and then he ran back to the gate to allow those he had checked go in. The others would have to wait and allowed access one-by-one as they were verified at the gate. The first group drove into the lifting darkness, and as we penetrated deeper and farther east into the park, the light began to bathe the contours of the dunes in great colors. The speed limit was 60kph, which we were traveling at. However, we noticed the group that started ahead had put some distance between then and us, and some that started behind were passing us. For a while we drove the limit, but then, especially as the light became bright enough to illuminate the landscape I kicked up the speed a little. We passed Dune 45, and there were tourists on it already, almost halfway up. Most if not all the vehicles turned off at Dune 45, it seemed. We pressed on, and after a while came upon a sign that indicated the direction of Dead Vlei. This was the area that was highly recommended by a photographer whose work I found online. There was only one 4X4 truck there, as I had no trouble navigating the soft sand between the car park where you must stop if you are driving a non-4X4 vehicle, and Dead Vlei. We actually passed one of the safari shuttles stuck in the sand along the way. The people that we assumed were the occupants of the truck were already making their way into the dunes. It was a clear, quiet morning with the light becoming more intense and higher in the sky with each passing minute, so we started our way in, following the prints they were making in the sand. I was carrying my backpack with my photo gear of course, and the weight of that pack along with the sandy hills induced a few flashbacks to basic training.
I had been on sand dunes before in the Canary Islands and near the Indian/Pakistan border, but these were quite different. The look, feel, orientation, and, of course, the size. Supposedly the tallest in the world, it was an incredible rush to hike along the crest of one as we did. Coming down the other side in a type of broken run was cool. I had my Columbia hiking shoes tied tightly, so I was pretty lucky (and surprised) that I had minimal sand intrusion. Some steps had my legs sinking calf-deep. We got to the bottom much faster than it took to scale up the dune, of course. We had to go over a few small ridges before finding our way to the bottom or open, dry, bed where water does accumulate when there's enough rain. You can tell water is there sometimes from the cracked earth and animal hoof prints embedded into the crust like the walk of fame in Hollywood. I'm finding it difficult to verbally describe the scene, as visuals are the only true way of conveying what it's like to stand there, in the silence, light hitting the far side of the dune but the shadow cast by the nearside dune covering the cracked-earth floor. We walked and climbed around the area for several hours until we got hungry and the light became too harsh, so we walked back to where the truck was parked. By now there were many more vehicles there, and I moved the truck from the direct sun to under one of the few trees. We set up our table, brought out 2 chairs, and ate the sandwiches we made and had some ice cold drinks in the heat of the day. It was fantastic, with both of us expressing how perfect a cold, Windhoek beer was after our morning. Radhika ended up in the cab, reclining the seat, and having herself a little nap. I chilled out in one of our camping chairs sans shirt and unzipped the legs off the hiking pants getting some Namibian desert sun. That was THE life at that moment, until I heard the clicking of a shutter discovering someone felt the need to photograph me half asleep.
We had visited Sossusvlei and Dead Vlei in the morning, and now we were considering what to do with the afternoon. You can't really see the dunes at sunset, because that's when the gates close and it's at least an hour back to the gate from the Dead Vlei area. The road continues on past Dead Vlei, but I never read anything online that indicated there were sights to be seen there. However, Radhika wanted to check it out so we left our picnic area and drove in further - but not much. We came to an area where I saw a lot of soft sand, and before proceeding further I got out, walking ahead and onto a small rise where I could see more of what was ahead. I saw nothing but sand, sand, and more sand. I turned around, but Radhika was still insistent. I stopped and spoke with two of the safari drivers, asking them what was back there to see. Both said "Nothing", and that was good enough for me. We decided to head back towards our camp and checkout Hidden Vlei, which was on the way and then Sesriem Canyon, which was right near our campsite. Hidden Vlei is where the vehicle park is for those who are not using a 4WD, so we parked there. One of the safari guides waiting in his truck said we have to follow the poles painted black on top that are stuck in the ground. They would lead us to Hidden Vlei. It was a long walk there, passing several interesting formations along the way. Hidden Vlei is not visited by most, as it is a hike to get to compared with the other more accessible places of interest. I would guess it is a 30-minute hike if you don't stop to make pictures, so it was longer for me. It was quiet out there and not another soul around. Overall it was probably close to two hours roundtrip. We made the drive back and parked in the lot along with several other vehicles. We got out and could hear voices in the canyon below. It is not a deep canyon by any comparison. At this point it looked no deeper than 30 feet where people were walking along a trail. We decided to go down and check it out, having several hours of daylight left which should be plenty of time to satisfy our curiosity and get back to the truck. We walked along the route that others were taking, contoured, rocky, some steps to climb, grainy sandy areas - quite an uneventful hike in retrospect. Where we came out of the canyon there was a group of people seemingly being led by an African gentleman. We started to go back the parking lot alongside but outside the canyon, but then the path looked over grown, so we decided to turn around and follow this other group assuming they would get us back to the lot. After a few minutes however, we determined they were not going to the lot but what looked like a lodge. So we quickly decided to just head back the way we came, as the day was getting darker now. No one else was in the canyon now, we were on our own and keeping a steady pace. We got back to the truck, the only vehicle left in the lot, right as the sun was setting on the horizon. A few minutes drive and we were back at our campsite getting ready for dinner and showers. Tomorrow, we would do the same thing over again in the morning and then leave the area to make the 4 to 5 hour drive back to Windhoek, turning in the truck and catching our flight out of Namibia and going south to Cape Town.
The album for this post can be found at: We arrived at the Sesriem Camp without too much confusion, as the signage was fairly easy to follow. It was early enough in the day where we had a couple of hours until dark, which is a good thing because it took a while to check in at reception and work out going into the park in the morning. Fortunately, in contrast to what was indicated on the internet, they had a small food store located in the same building as the reception, and the prices were surprising under the "gouge" area. I bought 6 bottles of ice-cold beer that went down oh so good once we set up our camp. We were right across from the camp pool, which was small and moderate in comparison to the ones we saw in Etosha. The ablutions weren't too far either, so it was a convenient spot. It's still 70km to Sossusvlei once you get past the gate into the park, which is right at our camp. This entire area is all part of the Namib Desert, and it's considered the driest area on the planet. How that's measured compared to Death Valley, the Sahara, or any other places is beyond my knowledge, but I can vouch for its dryness. We cooked burgers using a campfire for the first time, as we purchased wood and starting material before coming to Sesriem. The night sky was showing the same spectacular show it had in Damaraland and Etosha, only more so as the artificial light was almost non-existent here. The night was cooler here in the desert, and we had to get up around 4am to be at the gate around 4:45 when it opened and allowed the line of vehicles in, as all made a bee-line to the two main stops, Dune 45, where most of the tourists go, and farther into the park to where Hidden and Dead Vlei were located. To get there you needed your own 4X4 or you parked your vehicle in the lot and took a camp provided 4X4 for a fee or walked it yourself.
After a chilly night's sleep we woke up early to be in the line of vehicles that wait at the gate for the park to open. Getting up early did have one unexpected benefit: it being dark at 4am I could change out of my pj's and into my clothes right at the truck. Changing in the cramped tent was a major pain, and bringing up my clothes for the next day into an already small area was a nuisance. Hardly anyone was awake or near us, so it was much easier than inside the tent. It was an eye-opener too; because that cold morning air hitting the sleeping bag warmed skin of mine snapped my heart into the day! We skipped breakfast, delaying it to later in the morning when we got the first chance. The fact that we were carrying our food around in the truck with us made it easy. We got into line, perhaps the 5th or 6th car at the gate and many more lined up behind us as the morning light just began to turn the eastern horizon deep purple. The guard made his way to each vehicle, checking to make sure the correct paperwork was in hand that showed payment to enter had been made, which we had done the afternoon before. I would say he got to #10 in line, and then he ran back to the gate to allow those he had checked go in. The others would have to wait and allowed access one-by-one as they were verified at the gate. The first group drove into the lifting darkness, and as we penetrated deeper and farther east into the park, the light began to bathe the contours of the dunes in great colors. The speed limit was 60kph, which we were traveling at. However, we noticed the group that started ahead had put some distance between then and us, and some that started behind were passing us. For a while we drove the limit, but then, especially as the light became bright enough to illuminate the landscape I kicked up the speed a little. We passed Dune 45, and there were tourists on it already, almost halfway up. Most if not all the vehicles turned off at Dune 45, it seemed. We pressed on, and after a while came upon a sign that indicated the direction of Dead Vlei. This was the area that was highly recommended by a photographer whose work I found online. There was only one 4X4 truck there, as I had no trouble navigating the soft sand between the car park where you must stop if you are driving a non-4X4 vehicle, and Dead Vlei. We actually passed one of the safari shuttles stuck in the sand along the way. The people that we assumed were the occupants of the truck were already making their way into the dunes. It was a clear, quiet morning with the light becoming more intense and higher in the sky with each passing minute, so we started our way in, following the prints they were making in the sand. I was carrying my backpack with my photo gear of course, and the weight of that pack along with the sandy hills induced a few flashbacks to basic training.
I had been on sand dunes before in the Canary Islands and near the Indian/Pakistan border, but these were quite different. The look, feel, orientation, and, of course, the size. Supposedly the tallest in the world, it was an incredible rush to hike along the crest of one as we did. Coming down the other side in a type of broken run was cool. I had my Columbia hiking shoes tied tightly, so I was pretty lucky (and surprised) that I had minimal sand intrusion. Some steps had my legs sinking calf-deep. We got to the bottom much faster than it took to scale up the dune, of course. We had to go over a few small ridges before finding our way to the bottom or open, dry, bed where water does accumulate when there's enough rain. You can tell water is there sometimes from the cracked earth and animal hoof prints embedded into the crust like the walk of fame in Hollywood. I'm finding it difficult to verbally describe the scene, as visuals are the only true way of conveying what it's like to stand there, in the silence, light hitting the far side of the dune but the shadow cast by the nearside dune covering the cracked-earth floor. We walked and climbed around the area for several hours until we got hungry and the light became too harsh, so we walked back to where the truck was parked. By now there were many more vehicles there, and I moved the truck from the direct sun to under one of the few trees. We set up our table, brought out 2 chairs, and ate the sandwiches we made and had some ice cold drinks in the heat of the day. It was fantastic, with both of us expressing how perfect a cold, Windhoek beer was after our morning. Radhika ended up in the cab, reclining the seat, and having herself a little nap. I chilled out in one of our camping chairs sans shirt and unzipped the legs off the hiking pants getting some Namibian desert sun. That was THE life at that moment, until I heard the clicking of a shutter discovering someone felt the need to photograph me half asleep.
We had visited Sossusvlei and Dead Vlei in the morning, and now we were considering what to do with the afternoon. You can't really see the dunes at sunset, because that's when the gates close and it's at least an hour back to the gate from the Dead Vlei area. The road continues on past Dead Vlei, but I never read anything online that indicated there were sights to be seen there. However, Radhika wanted to check it out so we left our picnic area and drove in further - but not much. We came to an area where I saw a lot of soft sand, and before proceeding further I got out, walking ahead and onto a small rise where I could see more of what was ahead. I saw nothing but sand, sand, and more sand. I turned around, but Radhika was still insistent. I stopped and spoke with two of the safari drivers, asking them what was back there to see. Both said "Nothing", and that was good enough for me. We decided to head back towards our camp and checkout Hidden Vlei, which was on the way and then Sesriem Canyon, which was right near our campsite. Hidden Vlei is where the vehicle park is for those who are not using a 4WD, so we parked there. One of the safari guides waiting in his truck said we have to follow the poles painted black on top that are stuck in the ground. They would lead us to Hidden Vlei. It was a long walk there, passing several interesting formations along the way. Hidden Vlei is not visited by most, as it is a hike to get to compared with the other more accessible places of interest. I would guess it is a 30-minute hike if you don't stop to make pictures, so it was longer for me. It was quiet out there and not another soul around. Overall it was probably close to two hours roundtrip. We made the drive back and parked in the lot along with several other vehicles. We got out and could hear voices in the canyon below. It is not a deep canyon by any comparison. At this point it looked no deeper than 30 feet where people were walking along a trail. We decided to go down and check it out, having several hours of daylight left which should be plenty of time to satisfy our curiosity and get back to the truck. We walked along the route that others were taking, contoured, rocky, some steps to climb, grainy sandy areas - quite an uneventful hike in retrospect. Where we came out of the canyon there was a group of people seemingly being led by an African gentleman. We started to go back the parking lot alongside but outside the canyon, but then the path looked over grown, so we decided to turn around and follow this other group assuming they would get us back to the lot. After a few minutes however, we determined they were not going to the lot but what looked like a lodge. So we quickly decided to just head back the way we came, as the day was getting darker now. No one else was in the canyon now, we were on our own and keeping a steady pace. We got back to the truck, the only vehicle left in the lot, right as the sun was setting on the horizon. A few minutes drive and we were back at our campsite getting ready for dinner and showers. Tomorrow, we would do the same thing over again in the morning and then leave the area to make the 4 to 5 hour drive back to Windhoek, turning in the truck and catching our flight out of Namibia and going south to Cape Town.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?wf=sharegrid&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&galleryid=e9a66e2560914dbbaca30dc2cfc9d69a
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Africa - Part 11 (Etosha, Damaraland, and Swakopmund)
Our last morning in Etosha N.P. found us bummed because we really enjoyed our visit here. We were supposed to stay only 2 nights, but early on the first full day we decided we wanted to stay longer, so we would skip our overnight in Damaraland, just driving through it on our way to Swakopmund on the coast. So that was our plan after we packed up our site. We prepared breakfast and took it with us as we walked to the waterhole to catch early morning action, and indeed there was plenty of that. No larger mammals, but the numbers of zebra, springbok, kudu, and even some Oryx were impressive as they are rarely seen at the waterholes at night. Nighttime is elephant, giraffe, rhino, and predator time. As we watch from our bench on this chilly morning, small twigs and pieces of grass would occasionally fall on us from above as social weavers furiously worked on their communal nest hanging from the tree nearby. It was huge, looking like it could house 30 or 40 of the little fluttering builders. It was tiring just watching them. Eventually we had to tear ourselves away from this wonderful setting that we could stay at all day, and head south as our next destination was a longer distance due to our decision to stay another day in Etosha N.P., so our stopover point which was almost dead set in-between Etosha and Damaraland was now just a pass-through point.
By noon we were at Khorixas where we got gas, which is not too far from our original destination in Damaraland named Twyfelfontein. Another 90 minutes and we found ourselves where we wanted to be. We stopped at a camp and asked the young lady where we could find the place called Organ Pipes. I found it on the internet and wanted to visit it as we passed through. We had also passed an attraction named "Damaraland Living Museum" which was tended by a young, attractive, topless woman who sat in a small booth at the entrance. She said it would take several hours to see the presentation depicting life for the Damara people, past and present. No, to those of you wondering - I DID NOT have trouble maintaining eye contact with her. But I can say that a brassiere would benefit her and her triple D's that were making their way down to her belly button! And she couldn't have been more than 20 years old. I was later informed she was single, but had plenty of interested "boys". Yeah? No doubt! Anyway, it looked really interesting, but we didn't have the time to devote to it. We also had to pass on the main attraction of the area, the UNESCO ancient rock paintings. After we visited Organ Pipes, we found ourselves back in the parking lot of the museum, facing a dilemma. We both really liked the area and wanted to explore what it offered more than we were able to under the current circumstances. My position was Swakopmund was mainly a resting point and where I was going to try my hand at sand boarding (where you use a snowboard and slide down the huge sand dunes). I was willing to give that up and eat the cost of our camping fee to stay overnight here in Twyfelfontein and stay only 1 night in Swakopmund (it was originally planned for a 2-night stay). Radhika agreed, so we went to Aba-Huab Camp down the road from the museum where Radhika told the young woman at the counter in reception that we were thinking of staying overnight and what availability did they have. The young woman looked puzzled by Radhika's use of "thinking", and I interjected that we "were" staying and wanted a site. After a brief chuckle, we secured a campsite and decided to visit the rock engravings with the rest of the afternoon and save the museum for tomorrow morning. So the last few hours of the day were spent hiking over rocks with Honey, who was our guide, learning a little about the people who left these pictures 6000 years ago. It was interesting and the terrain was beautiful. We were the last visitors to leave, and several of the workers started walking back to their village, which wasn't too far from our camp. We piled as many as could fit into our truck, telling the others we could come back for them. After the 10-15 minute round trip, we picked up more, who had been walking along the dusty road. We still couldn't fit everyone, so the final 2 continued to walk, saying they would get a ride with someone as they passed by, as we made another trip to the village. It was almost dark now, enough to need my headlights. Radhika and I debated the odds of them getting a ride out here in the middle of nowhere (which describes many places we had and would visit), so we decided to play it safe and drive out in their direction one more time. As we did we passed a vehicle, but it was too dark to determine if the final two were inside enjoying a ride home. We didn't see them on the road where we calculated they should be, so we returned to our campsite. After borrowing towels from the camp, we took showers under the starry, desert sky. We forgot to pack towels and had been using "Magic Towels" that we bought in Amsterdam that came in a package the size of a half dollar coin and a little under an inch thick. When you open the package the towel eventually opens to the size a little larger than a washcloth. I was happy to use a real towel even if it was just for one night. As I dropped off my towel and soaps, a German woman came out of her shower without any modesty. Gotta love those Germans! She left as I came back with my pj's that I had left in the truck. After my shower I stepped out to find her back in the shower area (there were 3), and she asked me if I had seen her coat. Uh, can I get my towel and no, I didn't see your coat in my shower (the one she used was 2 over). Guess she feels we are even now in the "seeing you naked" category!
After I got my jammies on, we made some sandwiches, bought some drinks and looked for a place to eat. The same young woman from reception said we could eat in the restaurant area, which was really nice of her. So we ate upstairs in our pj's and enjoyed some cool beverages to end our only night in this area. Definitely want more - some other day, perhaps. I stayed up as Radhika went to bed, setting my camera up in a good place to get some time lapsed work on the night sky. There was one artificial light I had to avoid, but the cool thing was it was throwing some light on a tree that I decided to place in the lower portion of the frame. After a couple of 15-20 minute exposures, I was ready for bed, and crawled up the ladder. It was a warm night, which was nice after slightly chilly ones in Etosha.
The next morning we were up early, had our breakfast and went off to visit the museum after paying our bill. We spent almost 3 hours there, leaving a little after 11am. We learned how they settled internal tribal disputes, natural remedies found in the area to treat various physical ailments and injuries, from ground ostrich egg shells for colicky babies, to dried elephant dung for joint pain. The former is taken internally; the latter applied externally to the painful area, just for those of you wondering. You don't want to get those two confused! We learned how they hunted, celebrated, played, interacted, and so many other things. We watched a ceremonial dance, the shaman "cured" a patient, they demonstrated how to start a fire, set a trap, etc. It was cool! They made buttons, beads, prepared hides, used the first sunscreen - did I already say how cool and interesting it was? They have been doing this for only 3 months with this new museum, but I hope they are able to sustain it because it was one of the most interesting experiences we had on our trip. We had to get to Swakopmund, and the young lady at our camp said it would be 6 or more hours. I couldn't see how, I was thinking more like 4, but we got on the road by noon and stopped only briefly once or twice. One time was when we were about 2 hours into our drive. We passed a Himba woman and man on the roadside selling what would be considered trinkets. But she was the thing of most interest. Himba's are mostly found to the north, so it was fortunate to see them here. We bought several items to wear, then got back to our journey to Swakopmund. But I felt I hadn't made enough images of her and it was bugging me. Radhika said I should decide to continue on or got back before we traveled too far, so I stopped and whipped the truck around. The somewhat comical thing about it was we had to pass a man who was selling things of his own on the side of the road, and every time we passed him, he came out into the road holding up some of his wares. I felt a little bad for the guy because he looked so hopeful each time we passed. We pulled up, parked, and I paid her directly to make some more images of her. She loved it! Her boyfriend seemed quite proud too, but keeping an eye on me to a degree I sensed, even though Radhika was with me. We loaded up again, passed the guy on the roadside on more time, and kept on. At some point, we took a road that was shorter in distance (and time we had assumed), but it probably didn't save us any because it was almost a "non-road". The trails in Moremi were more "road" than this was! Hell, I couldn't determine where I should be following at one point as we passed some houses and huts as there were no tell-tale tire tracks. I just winged it and rolled the dice in my head, luckily coming upon a better-marked path along the way. We eventually came back upon the more primary-type road, and we determined that we will not take any more "D" roads. "B" indicated a paved road, "C" a dirt/gravel secondary road. We saw some demarked as "F" roads that seemed to go out into pasture, so I designated that F as farm! You're wondering where "A" roads are? Good question - so were we. Never saw one.
We got to the coast by 4pm, seeing the clear skies of the desert recede and give sway to thick fog and chilly, biting winds. We headed south along the dunes on our left and waves on our right. I saw one of the few shipwrecks that remain stranded along the coast, so I pulled us onto the beach engaging 4WD. I made some pictures out in the cold blustery wind, and jumped back in to warm up and drive off to reach our destination only a few kilometers more south. Getting stuck in the sand was not in the plan, but that didn't matter. Florida-boy got stuck. I dug a lot of sand out, and got the truck to move out only to bog down again. Now the tide was coming in too close to the truck, it was getting later, and I was concerned. I saw some fishermen in the distance, so I ran over to them and asked for their help. One said he would be buy in a little bit, so I ran back and unloaded the heavier cargo in the back of the truck. After a few minutes, the older German gentleman came up in his Toyota, got out, tied a tow rope to the back of his truck and told me to tie the other end to our truck. He then got into our truck, changed the 4WD gear from Hi4W to Lo4W, told me to untie the rope that I had just attached to the front, and he drove it out with a little effort. Remember the guy in Moremi who told me NEVER to use Lo4W? Well, I didn't even consider trying lo in this situation! I thanked the guy twice; we loaded the stuff back into the back, and got the hell off that beach. Next stop - Alta Bruke campsite in Swakopmund. No more pussyfooting with any side trips! And the weather was already bumming us out, going from sunny heat to overcast gray windy cold! Plenty of that shit in Amsterdam come winter (and part of fall and spring too!). After the fact, removing a day here and spending it in Etosha was a freaking stroke of genius I wish I could take credit for. Swakopmund became a resting point between 2 far apart destinations, where we did laundry, charged batteries and cell phones, got a decent restaurant meal, pulled out more cash, took great showers in the nicest, cleanest camping facilities we would enjoy on this part of our trip, and bought a few more provisions for our time in the desert to the south where the internet indicated there would be no groceries to buy. After a slightly chilly night in our tent, we left the next morning for Sesriem several hours due south. But not after I handled a decision in the most wishy-washy of ways.
Gas. There was between 1/4 and 1/2 a tank of it showing on the gauge. I figured we could make Solitaire, where the map indicated we would find gas stations. As we left Swakopmund, we didn't directly pass a gas station. As a matter-of-fact, we were looking for one at one point, because we couldn't find the road we needed to take to head south. If we had found one for directions, we would've killed two birds with one stone and filled up the tank, as well. I was also factoring in the spare tank of gas we had in the back that we had been traveling with since the 2nd (it was now the 7th). Anyhow, Radhika became very nervous about the state of our available fuel once we were on our way and many kilometers out of Swakopmund. Then I became more nervous and less sure of my decision. So the safe decision was made, and we turned around after some hard moments in the truck. Luckily we didn't have to go all the way back to Swakopmund, but could get gas in Walvis Bay, which was closer to us and would figure again later into our adventure. We were delayed probably an hour due to my indecision, but it was better get there later than desired than be on the side of the road with an empty tank. If I had been by myself, I most likely would've pressed on. And now knowing the route and distance, I'm completely confident we would've made it to Solitaire by using the spare tank.
Anyway, we're on our way to Sesriem, the closest camp site to the park entrance, where we need to be to get a "first thing in the morning" start when the gates open and we can get the sunrise experience of the worlds tallest dunes. That will be picked up in the next post.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=bccd0ceeb0864e0dbb98941821fed66f&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&wf=sharegrid
By noon we were at Khorixas where we got gas, which is not too far from our original destination in Damaraland named Twyfelfontein. Another 90 minutes and we found ourselves where we wanted to be. We stopped at a camp and asked the young lady where we could find the place called Organ Pipes. I found it on the internet and wanted to visit it as we passed through. We had also passed an attraction named "Damaraland Living Museum" which was tended by a young, attractive, topless woman who sat in a small booth at the entrance. She said it would take several hours to see the presentation depicting life for the Damara people, past and present. No, to those of you wondering - I DID NOT have trouble maintaining eye contact with her. But I can say that a brassiere would benefit her and her triple D's that were making their way down to her belly button! And she couldn't have been more than 20 years old. I was later informed she was single, but had plenty of interested "boys". Yeah? No doubt! Anyway, it looked really interesting, but we didn't have the time to devote to it. We also had to pass on the main attraction of the area, the UNESCO ancient rock paintings. After we visited Organ Pipes, we found ourselves back in the parking lot of the museum, facing a dilemma. We both really liked the area and wanted to explore what it offered more than we were able to under the current circumstances. My position was Swakopmund was mainly a resting point and where I was going to try my hand at sand boarding (where you use a snowboard and slide down the huge sand dunes). I was willing to give that up and eat the cost of our camping fee to stay overnight here in Twyfelfontein and stay only 1 night in Swakopmund (it was originally planned for a 2-night stay). Radhika agreed, so we went to Aba-Huab Camp down the road from the museum where Radhika told the young woman at the counter in reception that we were thinking of staying overnight and what availability did they have. The young woman looked puzzled by Radhika's use of "thinking", and I interjected that we "were" staying and wanted a site. After a brief chuckle, we secured a campsite and decided to visit the rock engravings with the rest of the afternoon and save the museum for tomorrow morning. So the last few hours of the day were spent hiking over rocks with Honey, who was our guide, learning a little about the people who left these pictures 6000 years ago. It was interesting and the terrain was beautiful. We were the last visitors to leave, and several of the workers started walking back to their village, which wasn't too far from our camp. We piled as many as could fit into our truck, telling the others we could come back for them. After the 10-15 minute round trip, we picked up more, who had been walking along the dusty road. We still couldn't fit everyone, so the final 2 continued to walk, saying they would get a ride with someone as they passed by, as we made another trip to the village. It was almost dark now, enough to need my headlights. Radhika and I debated the odds of them getting a ride out here in the middle of nowhere (which describes many places we had and would visit), so we decided to play it safe and drive out in their direction one more time. As we did we passed a vehicle, but it was too dark to determine if the final two were inside enjoying a ride home. We didn't see them on the road where we calculated they should be, so we returned to our campsite. After borrowing towels from the camp, we took showers under the starry, desert sky. We forgot to pack towels and had been using "Magic Towels" that we bought in Amsterdam that came in a package the size of a half dollar coin and a little under an inch thick. When you open the package the towel eventually opens to the size a little larger than a washcloth. I was happy to use a real towel even if it was just for one night. As I dropped off my towel and soaps, a German woman came out of her shower without any modesty. Gotta love those Germans! She left as I came back with my pj's that I had left in the truck. After my shower I stepped out to find her back in the shower area (there were 3), and she asked me if I had seen her coat. Uh, can I get my towel and no, I didn't see your coat in my shower (the one she used was 2 over). Guess she feels we are even now in the "seeing you naked" category!
After I got my jammies on, we made some sandwiches, bought some drinks and looked for a place to eat. The same young woman from reception said we could eat in the restaurant area, which was really nice of her. So we ate upstairs in our pj's and enjoyed some cool beverages to end our only night in this area. Definitely want more - some other day, perhaps. I stayed up as Radhika went to bed, setting my camera up in a good place to get some time lapsed work on the night sky. There was one artificial light I had to avoid, but the cool thing was it was throwing some light on a tree that I decided to place in the lower portion of the frame. After a couple of 15-20 minute exposures, I was ready for bed, and crawled up the ladder. It was a warm night, which was nice after slightly chilly ones in Etosha.
The next morning we were up early, had our breakfast and went off to visit the museum after paying our bill. We spent almost 3 hours there, leaving a little after 11am. We learned how they settled internal tribal disputes, natural remedies found in the area to treat various physical ailments and injuries, from ground ostrich egg shells for colicky babies, to dried elephant dung for joint pain. The former is taken internally; the latter applied externally to the painful area, just for those of you wondering. You don't want to get those two confused! We learned how they hunted, celebrated, played, interacted, and so many other things. We watched a ceremonial dance, the shaman "cured" a patient, they demonstrated how to start a fire, set a trap, etc. It was cool! They made buttons, beads, prepared hides, used the first sunscreen - did I already say how cool and interesting it was? They have been doing this for only 3 months with this new museum, but I hope they are able to sustain it because it was one of the most interesting experiences we had on our trip. We had to get to Swakopmund, and the young lady at our camp said it would be 6 or more hours. I couldn't see how, I was thinking more like 4, but we got on the road by noon and stopped only briefly once or twice. One time was when we were about 2 hours into our drive. We passed a Himba woman and man on the roadside selling what would be considered trinkets. But she was the thing of most interest. Himba's are mostly found to the north, so it was fortunate to see them here. We bought several items to wear, then got back to our journey to Swakopmund. But I felt I hadn't made enough images of her and it was bugging me. Radhika said I should decide to continue on or got back before we traveled too far, so I stopped and whipped the truck around. The somewhat comical thing about it was we had to pass a man who was selling things of his own on the side of the road, and every time we passed him, he came out into the road holding up some of his wares. I felt a little bad for the guy because he looked so hopeful each time we passed. We pulled up, parked, and I paid her directly to make some more images of her. She loved it! Her boyfriend seemed quite proud too, but keeping an eye on me to a degree I sensed, even though Radhika was with me. We loaded up again, passed the guy on the roadside on more time, and kept on. At some point, we took a road that was shorter in distance (and time we had assumed), but it probably didn't save us any because it was almost a "non-road". The trails in Moremi were more "road" than this was! Hell, I couldn't determine where I should be following at one point as we passed some houses and huts as there were no tell-tale tire tracks. I just winged it and rolled the dice in my head, luckily coming upon a better-marked path along the way. We eventually came back upon the more primary-type road, and we determined that we will not take any more "D" roads. "B" indicated a paved road, "C" a dirt/gravel secondary road. We saw some demarked as "F" roads that seemed to go out into pasture, so I designated that F as farm! You're wondering where "A" roads are? Good question - so were we. Never saw one.
We got to the coast by 4pm, seeing the clear skies of the desert recede and give sway to thick fog and chilly, biting winds. We headed south along the dunes on our left and waves on our right. I saw one of the few shipwrecks that remain stranded along the coast, so I pulled us onto the beach engaging 4WD. I made some pictures out in the cold blustery wind, and jumped back in to warm up and drive off to reach our destination only a few kilometers more south. Getting stuck in the sand was not in the plan, but that didn't matter. Florida-boy got stuck. I dug a lot of sand out, and got the truck to move out only to bog down again. Now the tide was coming in too close to the truck, it was getting later, and I was concerned. I saw some fishermen in the distance, so I ran over to them and asked for their help. One said he would be buy in a little bit, so I ran back and unloaded the heavier cargo in the back of the truck. After a few minutes, the older German gentleman came up in his Toyota, got out, tied a tow rope to the back of his truck and told me to tie the other end to our truck. He then got into our truck, changed the 4WD gear from Hi4W to Lo4W, told me to untie the rope that I had just attached to the front, and he drove it out with a little effort. Remember the guy in Moremi who told me NEVER to use Lo4W? Well, I didn't even consider trying lo in this situation! I thanked the guy twice; we loaded the stuff back into the back, and got the hell off that beach. Next stop - Alta Bruke campsite in Swakopmund. No more pussyfooting with any side trips! And the weather was already bumming us out, going from sunny heat to overcast gray windy cold! Plenty of that shit in Amsterdam come winter (and part of fall and spring too!). After the fact, removing a day here and spending it in Etosha was a freaking stroke of genius I wish I could take credit for. Swakopmund became a resting point between 2 far apart destinations, where we did laundry, charged batteries and cell phones, got a decent restaurant meal, pulled out more cash, took great showers in the nicest, cleanest camping facilities we would enjoy on this part of our trip, and bought a few more provisions for our time in the desert to the south where the internet indicated there would be no groceries to buy. After a slightly chilly night in our tent, we left the next morning for Sesriem several hours due south. But not after I handled a decision in the most wishy-washy of ways.
Gas. There was between 1/4 and 1/2 a tank of it showing on the gauge. I figured we could make Solitaire, where the map indicated we would find gas stations. As we left Swakopmund, we didn't directly pass a gas station. As a matter-of-fact, we were looking for one at one point, because we couldn't find the road we needed to take to head south. If we had found one for directions, we would've killed two birds with one stone and filled up the tank, as well. I was also factoring in the spare tank of gas we had in the back that we had been traveling with since the 2nd (it was now the 7th). Anyhow, Radhika became very nervous about the state of our available fuel once we were on our way and many kilometers out of Swakopmund. Then I became more nervous and less sure of my decision. So the safe decision was made, and we turned around after some hard moments in the truck. Luckily we didn't have to go all the way back to Swakopmund, but could get gas in Walvis Bay, which was closer to us and would figure again later into our adventure. We were delayed probably an hour due to my indecision, but it was better get there later than desired than be on the side of the road with an empty tank. If I had been by myself, I most likely would've pressed on. And now knowing the route and distance, I'm completely confident we would've made it to Solitaire by using the spare tank.
Anyway, we're on our way to Sesriem, the closest camp site to the park entrance, where we need to be to get a "first thing in the morning" start when the gates open and we can get the sunrise experience of the worlds tallest dunes. That will be picked up in the next post.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=bccd0ceeb0864e0dbb98941821fed66f&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&wf=sharegrid
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Africa - Part 10 (Etosha National Park Day 2)
We were able to wake early, a little before sunrise. We went through our now morning ritual, breakfast and then packing away the tent, exiting the Halali gate right after it opened. We decided to hit a few waterholes in the area that we missed yesterday, visit the pan, and then make our way west to Okaukuejo towards the afternoon. Reception had already told us Okaukuejo was full that night, but seeing as they were batting 100 at being wrong, we decided to go there anyway and finagle a spot for us to camp at tonight.
We headed out, stopping at the Etosha Pan. Just a huge to the horizon zone of white, scorched, dead zone with nothing apparently living there. Still, would be cool as hell to cross, but we didn't have the time. It was an experience just visiting it for 15-30 minutes. Not out too long after leaving the pan, we were driving past a wide-open dry area and into a grassy plain, when Radhika emphatically said, "Stop!” She had spotted our first lion!! It was a female, relaxing in the tall yellow/tan grass. Zebra and springbok were eyeballing here. The zebra were like stone, hardly moving a muscle, with eyes fixed on her. The springbok however, would glance in her direction, but would continue on. They are so quick and agile, they are not as concerned about the lion as the zebra. Then, by surprise, out of the tall grass a male lion laying next to the female lifts his head to check out the scene. He was totally hidden from view. They both took in the menu as it passed, but showed little interest. That's because they had other things on their minds - - SEX!! Yeah baby. There was some shagging going on in the bush. After they both had almost completely vanished from site laying back down in the grass, she raised up to all fours. She looked at the frozen zebras, still not moving much, glanced over at the male and slowly walked over to him. He raised his head as she came near, and she walked past him, but as she did she smacked him in the face with her hindquarters! She just swung her ass in his direction and popped him with her hips. He made it to his feet and followed her to where she had stopped, crouched down, and waited for lover boy. For all of 10 seconds, we watched as these two (I guess you can say) went at it. It was not inspiring, so all you guys should know if your partner calls you a lion in the sack, it's really a slam. Don't be bragging to the fellas. However, as women like to complain about, after he did what he needed to do, he walked a short distance and promptly fell back down into the grass to resume his nap. She, on the other hand, rolled over onto her back, paws up in the air like the Don Juan of the lion world had just ravished her. We stayed there for almost 2 hours watching them, waiting for them to exhibit some interesting behavior, chase some game, welcome more lions, but all they did roughly every 30 minutes was get busy. And it was the exact same way each time - the male getting a smack in the face with the business end of the female. It was interesting when a herd of Wildebeests came up on these two. The entire herd, maybe 50 or so, locked it up quick when the lions were first detected. I could almost hear the screeching tire sound in my mind. But even they, eventually, weren't as skittish as the zebra, and I know why. That zebra flank we ate in Windhoek was damned tasty! If I were a lion, that silly, striped horse would be at the top of my list of what I would want to run down, suffocate, and than chew on for the next several hours. After watching the 4th ho-hum hump-fest, we decided to move on to see what else was going on.
Not too far down the road from where we watched the al fresco fornication, we came upon 5 more females laying low in the tall grass on the opposite side of the road. As luck would have it, a bus came by to watch for a little while, and out through one of the windows popped cousin Jens smiling mug, as her group toured Etosha before returning to their program back near Windhoek. These lions were stationary, and it was now late morning and the sun had heated up the earth pretty efficiently. I didn't think they would hunt at this time of day, as they were huddled under a scrub tree for its shade. But we sat and watched for a while anyway, in the event something would happen. It didn't. So, with it being close to noon and we weren't far from Halali, we returned to have our lunch there. It was pretty empty, with most out in the park. We sat near the pool and outdoor restaurant, ordering a couple of drinks to go with our sandwiches that Radhika made. Halali is a really nice camp, with a great swimming pool, nice restaurant, and plentiful campsites.
After lunch, hit some waterholes and then made our way west towards Okaukuejo. We saw many animals along the way at the waterholes and on the plains. But one of the best ones waited until we were practically at the gate of Okaukuejo, when we spied a rhinoceros in the bushes foraging. Jockeying the truck back and forth as it moved along, we watched it until it went deep into the wooded area and out of sight (at one point it got within perhaps 20 feet of the truck!). By then, it was close to 5pm, so we figured our viewing was done for the day and we went to reception to secure a spot to park and camp. We were given spot #40 and a map to find it (remember - we were told at Halali that Okaukuejo was OVER booked). Well, it took a little effort to find it, as the map and the verbal directions didn't seem to match to me or Radhika. But we eventually found it, parked, and checked out the area and what is widely considered the best, nighttime waterhole for viewing game. The lodges here are the best in the park. Also, the most numerous. The restaurant and shops looked pretty nice, and they had a "baby" pool along with the larger Olympic sized one. They have a tower that offers great views, and the waterhole IS fantastic. I would say a perfect visit to Etosha would be a night in Namutoni, two in Halali, and as many as three in Okaukuejo. That night after dinner, we watched a large group of giraffes come for water, and heard lions in the distance groaning, which set off howling amongst some closer to the camp wild dogs. I took a shower late, as Radhika was in the tent. On my way from showers to tent, the lions released some low groans, sounding a lot closer to the camp. I must admit to climbing the ladder into the tent with more purpose than usual. I know there's fencing around the entire camp - or at least that's what I was told and assumed, but my heart was saying get your ass up the ladder tout de suite. Radhika could hear the lions from inside the tent, and she smiled as I told her my determination to scale that ladder a little faster than past nights.
Tomorrow we would leave Etosha and head for Damaraland, not too far from the Skeleton Coast. The animals of Namibia, for the most part, would be left in Etosha.
To see the album for this post, go to:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=0f9906f085c9411d92efe254cf526e7b&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&wf=sharegrid
We headed out, stopping at the Etosha Pan. Just a huge to the horizon zone of white, scorched, dead zone with nothing apparently living there. Still, would be cool as hell to cross, but we didn't have the time. It was an experience just visiting it for 15-30 minutes. Not out too long after leaving the pan, we were driving past a wide-open dry area and into a grassy plain, when Radhika emphatically said, "Stop!” She had spotted our first lion!! It was a female, relaxing in the tall yellow/tan grass. Zebra and springbok were eyeballing here. The zebra were like stone, hardly moving a muscle, with eyes fixed on her. The springbok however, would glance in her direction, but would continue on. They are so quick and agile, they are not as concerned about the lion as the zebra. Then, by surprise, out of the tall grass a male lion laying next to the female lifts his head to check out the scene. He was totally hidden from view. They both took in the menu as it passed, but showed little interest. That's because they had other things on their minds - - SEX!! Yeah baby. There was some shagging going on in the bush. After they both had almost completely vanished from site laying back down in the grass, she raised up to all fours. She looked at the frozen zebras, still not moving much, glanced over at the male and slowly walked over to him. He raised his head as she came near, and she walked past him, but as she did she smacked him in the face with her hindquarters! She just swung her ass in his direction and popped him with her hips. He made it to his feet and followed her to where she had stopped, crouched down, and waited for lover boy. For all of 10 seconds, we watched as these two (I guess you can say) went at it. It was not inspiring, so all you guys should know if your partner calls you a lion in the sack, it's really a slam. Don't be bragging to the fellas. However, as women like to complain about, after he did what he needed to do, he walked a short distance and promptly fell back down into the grass to resume his nap. She, on the other hand, rolled over onto her back, paws up in the air like the Don Juan of the lion world had just ravished her. We stayed there for almost 2 hours watching them, waiting for them to exhibit some interesting behavior, chase some game, welcome more lions, but all they did roughly every 30 minutes was get busy. And it was the exact same way each time - the male getting a smack in the face with the business end of the female. It was interesting when a herd of Wildebeests came up on these two. The entire herd, maybe 50 or so, locked it up quick when the lions were first detected. I could almost hear the screeching tire sound in my mind. But even they, eventually, weren't as skittish as the zebra, and I know why. That zebra flank we ate in Windhoek was damned tasty! If I were a lion, that silly, striped horse would be at the top of my list of what I would want to run down, suffocate, and than chew on for the next several hours. After watching the 4th ho-hum hump-fest, we decided to move on to see what else was going on.
Not too far down the road from where we watched the al fresco fornication, we came upon 5 more females laying low in the tall grass on the opposite side of the road. As luck would have it, a bus came by to watch for a little while, and out through one of the windows popped cousin Jens smiling mug, as her group toured Etosha before returning to their program back near Windhoek. These lions were stationary, and it was now late morning and the sun had heated up the earth pretty efficiently. I didn't think they would hunt at this time of day, as they were huddled under a scrub tree for its shade. But we sat and watched for a while anyway, in the event something would happen. It didn't. So, with it being close to noon and we weren't far from Halali, we returned to have our lunch there. It was pretty empty, with most out in the park. We sat near the pool and outdoor restaurant, ordering a couple of drinks to go with our sandwiches that Radhika made. Halali is a really nice camp, with a great swimming pool, nice restaurant, and plentiful campsites.
After lunch, hit some waterholes and then made our way west towards Okaukuejo. We saw many animals along the way at the waterholes and on the plains. But one of the best ones waited until we were practically at the gate of Okaukuejo, when we spied a rhinoceros in the bushes foraging. Jockeying the truck back and forth as it moved along, we watched it until it went deep into the wooded area and out of sight (at one point it got within perhaps 20 feet of the truck!). By then, it was close to 5pm, so we figured our viewing was done for the day and we went to reception to secure a spot to park and camp. We were given spot #40 and a map to find it (remember - we were told at Halali that Okaukuejo was OVER booked). Well, it took a little effort to find it, as the map and the verbal directions didn't seem to match to me or Radhika. But we eventually found it, parked, and checked out the area and what is widely considered the best, nighttime waterhole for viewing game. The lodges here are the best in the park. Also, the most numerous. The restaurant and shops looked pretty nice, and they had a "baby" pool along with the larger Olympic sized one. They have a tower that offers great views, and the waterhole IS fantastic. I would say a perfect visit to Etosha would be a night in Namutoni, two in Halali, and as many as three in Okaukuejo. That night after dinner, we watched a large group of giraffes come for water, and heard lions in the distance groaning, which set off howling amongst some closer to the camp wild dogs. I took a shower late, as Radhika was in the tent. On my way from showers to tent, the lions released some low groans, sounding a lot closer to the camp. I must admit to climbing the ladder into the tent with more purpose than usual. I know there's fencing around the entire camp - or at least that's what I was told and assumed, but my heart was saying get your ass up the ladder tout de suite. Radhika could hear the lions from inside the tent, and she smiled as I told her my determination to scale that ladder a little faster than past nights.
Tomorrow we would leave Etosha and head for Damaraland, not too far from the Skeleton Coast. The animals of Namibia, for the most part, would be left in Etosha.
To see the album for this post, go to:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=0f9906f085c9411d92efe254cf526e7b&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC&wf=sharegrid
Friday, September 17, 2010
Africa - Part 9 (Etosha National Park Day 1)
The next morning we woke fairly early, and I climbed down and made breakfast. I’m only talking bowl of cereal and fruit – having only to heat water for the late sleeper’s cup of morning tea. Campers all around were bustling with activity, packing up, washing dishes, and fixing breakfast. The gates would open very soon and animals are active in the morning and late afternoon. We decided the night before that we would travel to the northeastern side of the park towards the campsite named Namutoni. The 3 camps of Etosha National Park are ideally placed 70km’s from each other, with Halali pretty much square in the center of the public area of the park. Off we went on our first day in Etosha, feeling quite excited, but determined to see a lion. You see, while we were in Moremi, we talked to several tourists who already visited Etosha, and they spoke glowingly of the park, how easy it is to get around, the nice camps, and the multitudes of animals. And they all saw lions! So, we were pumped to drive around all day, making plans to stop and eat lunch midday when the day and sun were at their hottest. We figured that would be near or in Namutoni, and as it turned out we were right. We stopped at several waterholes that are on the way to Namutoni, seeing animals there and dispersed along the plains. It was a hot midday sun that hovered over us as we reached the northern most camp. We parked in the shade and walked to where there were picnic benches inside the courtyard where a few restaurants, stores, and shops were. Radhika made sandwiches and I went to the bar that was open and bought 2 ice-cold refreshing beers. A band of 6 or 7 mongoose’s scurried along the grounds exploring, bickering, and eating tidbits found along the way as we ate our lunch. Most everyone was watching them, with one young girl following them around with a camera.
We left Namutoni around 2:30, leaving us 3 ½ hours before the gates would close at Halali. Our first stop was a Chudop waterhole. The day before 8 lions were sighted there, but none showed during our stop today. We did get great enjoyment out of watching giraffes drink and two males in particular, who were engaged in what appeared to be activity geared to establishing status within the herd. They would swing their long heads in a low arc, and then bring them up with considerable force, turning their heads slightly so their stubby horns would lead to impact. Over, and over and over this was repeated, as they stood side-by-side, walking a little, adjusting their positioning with slight foot (hoof) work. It was very interesting to watch. Also of interest was each species reaction of the others when approaching the waterhole. Which are skittish, which ones are ignored, which ones give ground. Some are pretty much universal, like giraffes being very nervous of other species even with their size advantage over most, no doubt due to their vulnerability when their heads are down drinking. It seems like there’s a 3 minutes period before each 10-second drink, as they are very cautious when they lower their heads. When there’s a larger group, the giraffes do have a slightly stronger sense of calm about them. Ungulates are pretty careful all the time, as well. Elephants seem to be the only ones observed that basically lumber up without much concern, and do as they please. If other animals are near or in the water, they all make way for the elephant. It was surprising to me, because they weren’t aggressive. Perhaps size matters at the waterhole! One night we witnessed a mid-sized elephant try to run off what appeared to be a full-sized rhino by fake-charging – breaking into a slow trot in the direction of the rhino, kicking up dust when it came to an abrupt stop halfway to it. The rhino took note, even took a step back on the elephants 3rd or 4th charge. But on what turned out to be the elephant’s last gesture at making the rhino leave, the rhino actually reciprocated and did a mock charge of it’s own, with equal or elevated gusto to the elephant’s, which caused the elephant to back down and return to the group of mostly larger elephants. Maybe this elephant had a Napoleon complex? The rhino was left alone to share the water with the group of 5 or so elephants, getting is share of water and leisurely making its way back into the darkness.
Departing Chudop, we stopped at a waterhole named Kalkhauwel, I believe. It was overrun by pachyderms too numerous to count! There were a few vehicles already there watching the show. Huge to small, all sizes drinking, playing, fighting, bathing, and socializing. At one point, with us watching the herd pass left to right leaving the waterhole with the sun behind them, two moderately large elephants started a shoving match, locking their trunks and pushing head to head. Our parked location had us 30 seconds from getting a whole lot of gray, wrinkled, elephant ass on top of our hood! Radhika had already been chanting the previous 15 seconds “Start the car. Start the car! Start the car!!” I did, and put a little more distance between us. In the meantime, to medium-sized vans pulled up packed with what turned out to be Italian tourists. Almost as soon as they stopped, they were yelling from vehicle to vehicle, and one idiot even got out to take pictures. He looked at me, shooting from the driver’s seat with my camera and long lens, and tossed back his head slightly in a manly, kindred spirit sort of gesture. I just shook my head and hoped my expression back to him conveyed what I was thinking – asshole. Everyone else, in all other vehicles, was being quiet, respectful of the other viewers and the animals. This lot was being ignorant from beginning to end. Even the Etosha safari guide in one of the trucks told the bonehead he wasn’t allowed to be outside the vehicle. Numbnuts paid him no mind. Where was a lion in the mood for some linguini when you needed one? Mangia, mangia!
The next waterhole was Springbokfontein. There were more of the same herbivores there, but as an added bonus we watched those funny looking ostriches come along for some water. We had seen a few already, but mostly from a distance. They are skittish too…very hard to get anywhere close without spooking them. We made the 150km (and more) roundtrip circuit for the day, getting back to Halali at 5:45pm again. Making photos at sunset is impossible, seeing as how the sun goes down close to 6:30 and you have to be inside the gate by 6. That was a little of a bummer. It would be nice to be able to stay out slightly past sunset, but you give humans and inch and they take a mile (or kilometer), and then dopes would be wandering around in the dark hitting animals or becoming a lion’s chew toy, so I understand their thinking by making everyone return before sundown. We took site number 16 tonight, doing better than the night before and not taking 20 minutes to decide on where to camp. It was still bright out too, and that was very helpful. Once again, we heard that the campsite was full, but we saw plenty of open spaces. We decided we would stay another day, and not leave Etosha tomorrow, but stay at Okaukuejo for a third night, considered to be the best camp of the 3 in Etosha, at the southwestern side of the park, 70km west of Halali. We had our dinner, finishing off the chicken and borrowing a can opener again to finish off the vegetables. We went to the waterhole, which was relatively quiet. Walking back to our campsite, we passed my 2nd cousin Jennifer, who was with her group that was doing fieldwork for their degrees. Part of their group decided to camp out all night at the waterhole, taking turns watching the action while the others slept, and waking the group if anything exciting occurred. We decided we would get an early start tomorrow, and try our luck at getting a spot at Okaukuejo at the end of the day.
The album for this post can be found here:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid&galleryid=aea9f611754442d4a54cfb96c53c40bb&trackingid=BTAGC
We left Namutoni around 2:30, leaving us 3 ½ hours before the gates would close at Halali. Our first stop was a Chudop waterhole. The day before 8 lions were sighted there, but none showed during our stop today. We did get great enjoyment out of watching giraffes drink and two males in particular, who were engaged in what appeared to be activity geared to establishing status within the herd. They would swing their long heads in a low arc, and then bring them up with considerable force, turning their heads slightly so their stubby horns would lead to impact. Over, and over and over this was repeated, as they stood side-by-side, walking a little, adjusting their positioning with slight foot (hoof) work. It was very interesting to watch. Also of interest was each species reaction of the others when approaching the waterhole. Which are skittish, which ones are ignored, which ones give ground. Some are pretty much universal, like giraffes being very nervous of other species even with their size advantage over most, no doubt due to their vulnerability when their heads are down drinking. It seems like there’s a 3 minutes period before each 10-second drink, as they are very cautious when they lower their heads. When there’s a larger group, the giraffes do have a slightly stronger sense of calm about them. Ungulates are pretty careful all the time, as well. Elephants seem to be the only ones observed that basically lumber up without much concern, and do as they please. If other animals are near or in the water, they all make way for the elephant. It was surprising to me, because they weren’t aggressive. Perhaps size matters at the waterhole! One night we witnessed a mid-sized elephant try to run off what appeared to be a full-sized rhino by fake-charging – breaking into a slow trot in the direction of the rhino, kicking up dust when it came to an abrupt stop halfway to it. The rhino took note, even took a step back on the elephants 3rd or 4th charge. But on what turned out to be the elephant’s last gesture at making the rhino leave, the rhino actually reciprocated and did a mock charge of it’s own, with equal or elevated gusto to the elephant’s, which caused the elephant to back down and return to the group of mostly larger elephants. Maybe this elephant had a Napoleon complex? The rhino was left alone to share the water with the group of 5 or so elephants, getting is share of water and leisurely making its way back into the darkness.
Departing Chudop, we stopped at a waterhole named Kalkhauwel, I believe. It was overrun by pachyderms too numerous to count! There were a few vehicles already there watching the show. Huge to small, all sizes drinking, playing, fighting, bathing, and socializing. At one point, with us watching the herd pass left to right leaving the waterhole with the sun behind them, two moderately large elephants started a shoving match, locking their trunks and pushing head to head. Our parked location had us 30 seconds from getting a whole lot of gray, wrinkled, elephant ass on top of our hood! Radhika had already been chanting the previous 15 seconds “Start the car. Start the car! Start the car!!” I did, and put a little more distance between us. In the meantime, to medium-sized vans pulled up packed with what turned out to be Italian tourists. Almost as soon as they stopped, they were yelling from vehicle to vehicle, and one idiot even got out to take pictures. He looked at me, shooting from the driver’s seat with my camera and long lens, and tossed back his head slightly in a manly, kindred spirit sort of gesture. I just shook my head and hoped my expression back to him conveyed what I was thinking – asshole. Everyone else, in all other vehicles, was being quiet, respectful of the other viewers and the animals. This lot was being ignorant from beginning to end. Even the Etosha safari guide in one of the trucks told the bonehead he wasn’t allowed to be outside the vehicle. Numbnuts paid him no mind. Where was a lion in the mood for some linguini when you needed one? Mangia, mangia!
The next waterhole was Springbokfontein. There were more of the same herbivores there, but as an added bonus we watched those funny looking ostriches come along for some water. We had seen a few already, but mostly from a distance. They are skittish too…very hard to get anywhere close without spooking them. We made the 150km (and more) roundtrip circuit for the day, getting back to Halali at 5:45pm again. Making photos at sunset is impossible, seeing as how the sun goes down close to 6:30 and you have to be inside the gate by 6. That was a little of a bummer. It would be nice to be able to stay out slightly past sunset, but you give humans and inch and they take a mile (or kilometer), and then dopes would be wandering around in the dark hitting animals or becoming a lion’s chew toy, so I understand their thinking by making everyone return before sundown. We took site number 16 tonight, doing better than the night before and not taking 20 minutes to decide on where to camp. It was still bright out too, and that was very helpful. Once again, we heard that the campsite was full, but we saw plenty of open spaces. We decided we would stay another day, and not leave Etosha tomorrow, but stay at Okaukuejo for a third night, considered to be the best camp of the 3 in Etosha, at the southwestern side of the park, 70km west of Halali. We had our dinner, finishing off the chicken and borrowing a can opener again to finish off the vegetables. We went to the waterhole, which was relatively quiet. Walking back to our campsite, we passed my 2nd cousin Jennifer, who was with her group that was doing fieldwork for their degrees. Part of their group decided to camp out all night at the waterhole, taking turns watching the action while the others slept, and waking the group if anything exciting occurred. We decided we would get an early start tomorrow, and try our luck at getting a spot at Okaukuejo at the end of the day.
The album for this post can be found here:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid&galleryid=aea9f611754442d4a54cfb96c53c40bb&trackingid=BTAGC
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Africa - Part 8 (Windhoek and Etosha)
We landed in Windhoek where the airport was much more modern than the one we left from in Maun. We had accommodations already booked for our one night in Windhoek, but Angel and Haide had NO idea where they would be staying – not even how they would make the 35 kilometer journey from airport to town. They were traveling with no plan, and this was their honeymoon! In Africa! For several weeks!! To me, that takes cojones!!! Our 4X4 hire company was picking us up, so we decided to see if they would take them to where we were staying, as well. Our driver, Gerson, said that it was no problem. On the drive from the airport, he was saying how hungry he was because he had been so busy today that he didn’t have time to eat. Haide offered him cookies and the little bit of snacks they traveled with, and he enjoyed them in copious amounts! He also suggested they travel with us, as they were looking for a tour to join or something like that, as they had made no provisions for traveling around the country. That put Radhika and I in a tight position, because while we liked Angel and Haide, I travel differently due to photography, and it’s not compatible for most people. But then, when we got to our guesthouse, Gerson asked them for the equivalent of €30 for the ride. A pretty steep price, so Angel and Haide chastised him for the misleading way he indicated they could travel with us, making it seem there was no added fee or cost. He was getting paid twice for the same journey, already being paid by Aloe Car Hire to pick us up and deliver us to Rivendell Guesthouse, and being slick about it. He took off €5, but he still pocketed €25. As it turned out, where we were staying didn’t have any availability for them, so the driver agreed to drive them to a couple of places close by. They called us, saying they had found a place and we would meet at this local place called “Joe’s Beer House” that is a favorite of tourists. Meanwhile, we were given a crappy room without a bath. Not what I had booked. The young girl who unenthusiastically greeted us at the gate when we arrived, and tried to tell us there was no reservation (until I pulled out proof), was now saying that’s all they had and a mistake had been made. Our room had someone else in it already. But she was kind enough to inform me that we wouldn’t be charged the rate for the nicer room. Yeah, no shit! Needless to say our stay wasn’t what I hoped for, and luckily it was for only one day. I’m still exchanging emails with the owners as they are “tracking down” what went wrong.
After a mix-up between Aloe 4X4 hire company and the subcontractor they use to provide airport and hotel pickups, we were delayed in getting to their location the next morning. Their 4X4 hire business seemed to be run from their house. Their neighborhood, like similar ones seen in Johannesburg, was full of houses all encircled by concrete walls, topped with barbed or razor wire and some electrified. The houses do seem like mini-prisons. One large step beyond developments and gated communities one finds in the states, where access is granted only to those with proof of residency or hold special permission to enter. Only things missing were machine gun turrets at the corners. A young gentleman named Opy (yes I thought of Andy Griffith right off) was there to meet us inside the compound that we entered. He made sure to close and lock the heavy steel gate with electrified wires running along the top once we were inside. I later wondered what his impression is of all this security, being a black man of Africa. The truck was there, with the tent on the roof. It was the same truck model we had in Botswana, so that was good. The paperwork didn’t take too long. He showed us the 2 options we had for insurance. One, where we paid about $5000 if the truck becomes unusable and there’s no additional fee, and another where you pay about €10 per day and the amount owed drops roughly to half. I asked him what do most people take, and he said the first option. So that’s what we took. He went inside the house to get us a sheet and 2 pillows, and said he had to give us sleeping bags. We inspected the truck, its contents, camping supplies, emergency equipment, and how to erect and take down the tent. There was ¼ tank of gas, so we were told to bring it back that way. No point in telling Opy that’s a dirty little trick, trying to make the client “guess” at their fuel usage and not come back with a full tank, as his grasp of the language was spotty, at best. So, we took off after he showed us on a map where the tourist office was located downtown. On the way, we realized he never put the sleeping bags in the truck. We called him, saying we would come back after we were done at the tourist office. We also ran into Angel and Haide at the tourist office. They were looking to stay in Windhoek a couple of days and then head out to other areas. We had already settled the idea of traveling together and they understood the reasoning. Besides, they would be in the country for a week or so longer than us, and had more time to travel at a slower pace.
So, we find the tourist office and park. Now, from what we experienced in the several urban places we visited, this is how it’s done. There may be parking meters, but there are also men and women, most with a colored vest, usually orange, standing in parking areas. Whether they put money in the meters for you or not, I’m not sure. However, they watch the vehicles, keeping them safe. When you return to your car, you give them some money. That’s how it was here. We got a lot of useful information inside the tourist office and even booked a campsite in Etosha using their phone to call the park! It was the best, most efficient and thorough tourist office I can recall ever experiencing. They even told us how much we should pay the gentleman watching our vehicle. Across the street was a grocery store, and after a little difficulty, we found what we wanted and stocked our small fridge that came with the truck. We proceeded back to Aloe where Opy gave us our sleeping bags, got directions to the closest gas station, filled up the spare tank, as well, and then went to an ATM where it promptly digested Radhika’s card. The reason we needed cash was because Namibian gas stations do not accept credit cards! That was going to be a pain in the ass as it’s a large expenditure. Gas was not near as cheap here as it was in Botswana. We pulled some money out at a different machine with another card and headed north for the 4-hour drive up to Etosha around 12:30 or so.
The road was paved most of the way, so that was good. It enabled us to keep our speed at 120kph or higher. We had to not only be inside the main gate by 6pm, but also inside our rest camp gate, which was 70km from the main gate. It was called Halali, and when we hit the main gate, the lady was so nice and concerned about us making it in time she let us pass and pay when we left several days later. The road into the park was paved for a little while, and the speed limit dropped down to 60kph, but I went a little over that to get to Halali’s gate before closing. I had read online that if you get there late you can honk your horn and someone would come out and open the gate, but you may get a fine or at the least perhaps a less-than-cheerful vibe. I would prefer to avoid that. And as it so happened, the guy was in the act of closing the gate when he saw us drive up, and reversed his course and widened it so we could pass through. No dirty looks from him either, instead we got a “you just made it” smile. As we made the journey from main to Halali gate, we saw a fair amount of game. The land was very different from what we saw in Chobe or Moremi. Chobe is riverfront and forest, Moremi more broken brush and marsh, especially in the Okavango, and Etosha is really flat with a lot of scrub – much drier than the other two parks in Botswana.
Once inside, we went to reception to get a campsite, and the process was a little slow. We had been told (as we will be told every time we try to book in an NWR run camp) that they were fully booked with precious few spots remaining open. But the woman at the reception counter told us to drive in and find an open spot and take it. That was like a 3 Stooges bit for us, because we must’ve pulled into 3 or more, and once in the spot, we didn’t like it for one reason or another. It’s dark, so our headlights are blasting away into people’s camp area, and I just knew they were thinking, “What is wrong with this guy? Pick and spot, already!” I was about to pop a blood vessel, but we finally agreed on a spot. I had a hard time even recognizing where to pull in, perhaps being the camping novice that I am. Nightfall and the lack of bright lighting didn’t help me understand the layout, either. We also wanted a spot close to where the waterhole is, and in close proximity to one of the shower and toilet houses. Once the truck was positioned as we wanted, it was time to open up the tent, get the cooking gear out, and start dinner. Oh boy! Cooking the frozen chicken pieces we bought was an adventure, as first I tried them over the open fire, but that didn’t seem to be going so well, and we also wanted to eat before we woke up for breakfast the next day. So I busted out the mini LP tank and attached the top burner, and tried the covered pan method on the chicken. It heated them up plenty, but what was left was not recognizable as foul by a long shot. Actually, it was fortuitous that the lamp didn’t provide ample lighting, because looks-wise it was visually foul looking. After removing 80% of the chicken from the pan to our plates and leaving the other 20% as a baked-on crusty cratered lunar surface looking mess in the pan, I scooped out most of the mixed vegetables that was also cooked on the LP tank onto our plates. Ummmm-good! Those vegetables came in cans, and of course you know our camping kit did not include a can opener! Luckily the people next to us had one that I borrowed. I was quite surprised how good both tasted, and Radhika enjoyed our first camp meal together too. Washed down with some ice cold Lychee juice and I was good to go! We walked to the waterhole, and as we got to an area far enough from camp where the lights dimmed significantly, we both looked up into the southern hemisphere night to enjoy the show and both witnessed the same falling star! It was magnificent! The waterhole had quite a bit of spectators at it already, so we merged right in and watched as elephants already present chilled out and filled their trunks with water. A rhino was also there, and through the time we were there several different species paid a visit to quench their thirst in this dusty environment. It was a bit on the chilly side here, not as warm as it was in Botswana. We walked back to our site, checking out the sky along the way. Maneuvering up into the rooftop tent was a unique experience. Changing and storing our clothes out of the way was a little tricky, but it worked out okay. Our first night “roughing it”. How would it work out by morning?
The album for this post can be found here:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=bf5a76d3d4d34a889564d7c51185c281&rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid&trackingid=BTAGC
After a mix-up between Aloe 4X4 hire company and the subcontractor they use to provide airport and hotel pickups, we were delayed in getting to their location the next morning. Their 4X4 hire business seemed to be run from their house. Their neighborhood, like similar ones seen in Johannesburg, was full of houses all encircled by concrete walls, topped with barbed or razor wire and some electrified. The houses do seem like mini-prisons. One large step beyond developments and gated communities one finds in the states, where access is granted only to those with proof of residency or hold special permission to enter. Only things missing were machine gun turrets at the corners. A young gentleman named Opy (yes I thought of Andy Griffith right off) was there to meet us inside the compound that we entered. He made sure to close and lock the heavy steel gate with electrified wires running along the top once we were inside. I later wondered what his impression is of all this security, being a black man of Africa. The truck was there, with the tent on the roof. It was the same truck model we had in Botswana, so that was good. The paperwork didn’t take too long. He showed us the 2 options we had for insurance. One, where we paid about $5000 if the truck becomes unusable and there’s no additional fee, and another where you pay about €10 per day and the amount owed drops roughly to half. I asked him what do most people take, and he said the first option. So that’s what we took. He went inside the house to get us a sheet and 2 pillows, and said he had to give us sleeping bags. We inspected the truck, its contents, camping supplies, emergency equipment, and how to erect and take down the tent. There was ¼ tank of gas, so we were told to bring it back that way. No point in telling Opy that’s a dirty little trick, trying to make the client “guess” at their fuel usage and not come back with a full tank, as his grasp of the language was spotty, at best. So, we took off after he showed us on a map where the tourist office was located downtown. On the way, we realized he never put the sleeping bags in the truck. We called him, saying we would come back after we were done at the tourist office. We also ran into Angel and Haide at the tourist office. They were looking to stay in Windhoek a couple of days and then head out to other areas. We had already settled the idea of traveling together and they understood the reasoning. Besides, they would be in the country for a week or so longer than us, and had more time to travel at a slower pace.
So, we find the tourist office and park. Now, from what we experienced in the several urban places we visited, this is how it’s done. There may be parking meters, but there are also men and women, most with a colored vest, usually orange, standing in parking areas. Whether they put money in the meters for you or not, I’m not sure. However, they watch the vehicles, keeping them safe. When you return to your car, you give them some money. That’s how it was here. We got a lot of useful information inside the tourist office and even booked a campsite in Etosha using their phone to call the park! It was the best, most efficient and thorough tourist office I can recall ever experiencing. They even told us how much we should pay the gentleman watching our vehicle. Across the street was a grocery store, and after a little difficulty, we found what we wanted and stocked our small fridge that came with the truck. We proceeded back to Aloe where Opy gave us our sleeping bags, got directions to the closest gas station, filled up the spare tank, as well, and then went to an ATM where it promptly digested Radhika’s card. The reason we needed cash was because Namibian gas stations do not accept credit cards! That was going to be a pain in the ass as it’s a large expenditure. Gas was not near as cheap here as it was in Botswana. We pulled some money out at a different machine with another card and headed north for the 4-hour drive up to Etosha around 12:30 or so.
The road was paved most of the way, so that was good. It enabled us to keep our speed at 120kph or higher. We had to not only be inside the main gate by 6pm, but also inside our rest camp gate, which was 70km from the main gate. It was called Halali, and when we hit the main gate, the lady was so nice and concerned about us making it in time she let us pass and pay when we left several days later. The road into the park was paved for a little while, and the speed limit dropped down to 60kph, but I went a little over that to get to Halali’s gate before closing. I had read online that if you get there late you can honk your horn and someone would come out and open the gate, but you may get a fine or at the least perhaps a less-than-cheerful vibe. I would prefer to avoid that. And as it so happened, the guy was in the act of closing the gate when he saw us drive up, and reversed his course and widened it so we could pass through. No dirty looks from him either, instead we got a “you just made it” smile. As we made the journey from main to Halali gate, we saw a fair amount of game. The land was very different from what we saw in Chobe or Moremi. Chobe is riverfront and forest, Moremi more broken brush and marsh, especially in the Okavango, and Etosha is really flat with a lot of scrub – much drier than the other two parks in Botswana.
Once inside, we went to reception to get a campsite, and the process was a little slow. We had been told (as we will be told every time we try to book in an NWR run camp) that they were fully booked with precious few spots remaining open. But the woman at the reception counter told us to drive in and find an open spot and take it. That was like a 3 Stooges bit for us, because we must’ve pulled into 3 or more, and once in the spot, we didn’t like it for one reason or another. It’s dark, so our headlights are blasting away into people’s camp area, and I just knew they were thinking, “What is wrong with this guy? Pick and spot, already!” I was about to pop a blood vessel, but we finally agreed on a spot. I had a hard time even recognizing where to pull in, perhaps being the camping novice that I am. Nightfall and the lack of bright lighting didn’t help me understand the layout, either. We also wanted a spot close to where the waterhole is, and in close proximity to one of the shower and toilet houses. Once the truck was positioned as we wanted, it was time to open up the tent, get the cooking gear out, and start dinner. Oh boy! Cooking the frozen chicken pieces we bought was an adventure, as first I tried them over the open fire, but that didn’t seem to be going so well, and we also wanted to eat before we woke up for breakfast the next day. So I busted out the mini LP tank and attached the top burner, and tried the covered pan method on the chicken. It heated them up plenty, but what was left was not recognizable as foul by a long shot. Actually, it was fortuitous that the lamp didn’t provide ample lighting, because looks-wise it was visually foul looking. After removing 80% of the chicken from the pan to our plates and leaving the other 20% as a baked-on crusty cratered lunar surface looking mess in the pan, I scooped out most of the mixed vegetables that was also cooked on the LP tank onto our plates. Ummmm-good! Those vegetables came in cans, and of course you know our camping kit did not include a can opener! Luckily the people next to us had one that I borrowed. I was quite surprised how good both tasted, and Radhika enjoyed our first camp meal together too. Washed down with some ice cold Lychee juice and I was good to go! We walked to the waterhole, and as we got to an area far enough from camp where the lights dimmed significantly, we both looked up into the southern hemisphere night to enjoy the show and both witnessed the same falling star! It was magnificent! The waterhole had quite a bit of spectators at it already, so we merged right in and watched as elephants already present chilled out and filled their trunks with water. A rhino was also there, and through the time we were there several different species paid a visit to quench their thirst in this dusty environment. It was a bit on the chilly side here, not as warm as it was in Botswana. We walked back to our site, checking out the sky along the way. Maneuvering up into the rooftop tent was a unique experience. Changing and storing our clothes out of the way was a little tricky, but it worked out okay. Our first night “roughing it”. How would it work out by morning?
The album for this post can be found here:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?galleryid=bf5a76d3d4d34a889564d7c51185c281&rlang=en_US&wf=sharegrid&trackingid=BTAGC
Monday, September 6, 2010
Africa - Part 7 (Maun and Delta)
It's a little confusing...Maun, Okavango Delta, Moremi Wildlife Refuge. Looking at a terrain map, Okavango Delta is an area that spreads across this region. When I first started research for the trip, I believed The Okavango Delta was another park or area to visit, but it actually spreads across the area, encompassing or touching the city of Maun, Moremi Wildlife Refuge, Chobe National Park, and other towns and areas.
We were staying several kilometers north of Maun at Discovery B&B. A really nice place and good location that provides many options the area has to offer. We decided to take a flight over the delta, a nice bird's eye view. A little later in the day than I would prefer due to the turbulence from warm air currents that my stomach doesn't appreciate all too well, but it was fantastic to see the life below from that vantage point. After the flight, which ran about an hour, we dropped Jennifer off at the Maun airport so she could catch her flight to Windhoek, Namibia. We spent the rest of that afternoon driving along Shorobe Road, as there were many photographs to be made and things to see that were more "local" and not touristy. We ate dinner with our hosts at Discovery B&B tonight, who are transplants from Holland. It was very interesting to hear their story, of how they were volunteers in the area and decided they wanted to stay, and found Discovery when it was for sale and decided to buy it.
The next day we decided to turn in our rental vehicle, as we had it a week at that point, was €100 per day, and we were staying local and could get around using our feet and taxi's. I drove out to Kaziikini in the morning, because since we left there I hadn't been able to find my reading glasses, and it was not fun to ask Radhika to read the menu the night before at dinner. I had a feeling I knew where I could have left them, and it was less than a 45 minute ride. Besides, I hoped to see some animals in the early morning hours. I did find the glasses, but didn't see much wildlife. Funny about the glasses, they were left in the shower/toilet area of the camp sites. One of the campers heard why I was there and told me he saw the glasses just sitting there over the past 2 1/2 days - even tried them on to see if they worked for him, but they didn't. He figured those glasses were there to stay and the owner was long gone, so he was really surprised to see me get them back. Radhika was just getting ready to have breakfast when I returned, so we ate, relaxed a little around the grounds, and then drove into Maun to return the vehicle to Budget. We then walked around the area some more, making pictures and checking things out. The day before, we decided to arrange for an afternoon boat trip today, timing it for after we drop off the vehicle. The guy had told us to bring some beer, so we bought some and dropped it off early where the boat was leaving from so the guy could store the two 6-packs in their fridge. Today, we walked along Shorobe Road until it was close to when Neil, who owned the place, had told us to show up. We took a taxi to the place, and Neil had no recollection of our conversation from the prior day. I heard him telling Radhika the boat was full and he couldn't take anyone. We'll we finally jogged his memory, and we had a nice ride all to ourselves on the delta waters on our way to pick up some people at Buffalo Gate. We walked to few kilometers from the boat location to our B&B. It was a little adventurous, as it was pitch dark, but we had no problems and made it back fine.
The next morning was our last in Botswana, as we caught the same 3:30pm flight to Windhoek Jen had taken two days prior. We just hung around the B&B after breakfast, and had a taxi pick us up a little early so I could get some last shots in before we were taken to the airport. Of course there was a glitch, as we waited to board with a Spanish couple. Four of us, in total, would be on this plane. Jen had texted us the day she left saying she was the only person on her flight (maximum 16 passengers). Well, our flight was full and delayed. The four of us were sitting at the locked glass door to the tarmac as our departure time passed by. We had to go find airport personnel to find out where our plane was. We were redirected to another area and told the plane had arrived and was fueling up on the other side of the airport. We finally left, behind schedule, for Windhoek, saying "goodbye" to Maun, Botswana, and all the incredible times we had there.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?wf=sharegrid&galleryid=05c584aebd2a4ab9902bcbb4b7c513c3&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC
We were staying several kilometers north of Maun at Discovery B&B. A really nice place and good location that provides many options the area has to offer. We decided to take a flight over the delta, a nice bird's eye view. A little later in the day than I would prefer due to the turbulence from warm air currents that my stomach doesn't appreciate all too well, but it was fantastic to see the life below from that vantage point. After the flight, which ran about an hour, we dropped Jennifer off at the Maun airport so she could catch her flight to Windhoek, Namibia. We spent the rest of that afternoon driving along Shorobe Road, as there were many photographs to be made and things to see that were more "local" and not touristy. We ate dinner with our hosts at Discovery B&B tonight, who are transplants from Holland. It was very interesting to hear their story, of how they were volunteers in the area and decided they wanted to stay, and found Discovery when it was for sale and decided to buy it.
The next day we decided to turn in our rental vehicle, as we had it a week at that point, was €100 per day, and we were staying local and could get around using our feet and taxi's. I drove out to Kaziikini in the morning, because since we left there I hadn't been able to find my reading glasses, and it was not fun to ask Radhika to read the menu the night before at dinner. I had a feeling I knew where I could have left them, and it was less than a 45 minute ride. Besides, I hoped to see some animals in the early morning hours. I did find the glasses, but didn't see much wildlife. Funny about the glasses, they were left in the shower/toilet area of the camp sites. One of the campers heard why I was there and told me he saw the glasses just sitting there over the past 2 1/2 days - even tried them on to see if they worked for him, but they didn't. He figured those glasses were there to stay and the owner was long gone, so he was really surprised to see me get them back. Radhika was just getting ready to have breakfast when I returned, so we ate, relaxed a little around the grounds, and then drove into Maun to return the vehicle to Budget. We then walked around the area some more, making pictures and checking things out. The day before, we decided to arrange for an afternoon boat trip today, timing it for after we drop off the vehicle. The guy had told us to bring some beer, so we bought some and dropped it off early where the boat was leaving from so the guy could store the two 6-packs in their fridge. Today, we walked along Shorobe Road until it was close to when Neil, who owned the place, had told us to show up. We took a taxi to the place, and Neil had no recollection of our conversation from the prior day. I heard him telling Radhika the boat was full and he couldn't take anyone. We'll we finally jogged his memory, and we had a nice ride all to ourselves on the delta waters on our way to pick up some people at Buffalo Gate. We walked to few kilometers from the boat location to our B&B. It was a little adventurous, as it was pitch dark, but we had no problems and made it back fine.
The next morning was our last in Botswana, as we caught the same 3:30pm flight to Windhoek Jen had taken two days prior. We just hung around the B&B after breakfast, and had a taxi pick us up a little early so I could get some last shots in before we were taken to the airport. Of course there was a glitch, as we waited to board with a Spanish couple. Four of us, in total, would be on this plane. Jen had texted us the day she left saying she was the only person on her flight (maximum 16 passengers). Well, our flight was full and delayed. The four of us were sitting at the locked glass door to the tarmac as our departure time passed by. We had to go find airport personnel to find out where our plane was. We were redirected to another area and told the plane had arrived and was fueling up on the other side of the airport. We finally left, behind schedule, for Windhoek, saying "goodbye" to Maun, Botswana, and all the incredible times we had there.
The album for this post can be found at:
http://www.photoshop.com/user/johndp/?wf=sharegrid&galleryid=05c584aebd2a4ab9902bcbb4b7c513c3&rlang=en_US&trackingid=BTAGC
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
