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
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