The Beauty of Nothingness

In the UK there are 281 people for every square kilometer of land, a total of around 67 million. Namibia is nearly four times the size of the UK in terms of land mass and there are 2.67 million inhabitants – that´s about 3 people per square kilometer. A good year of rainfall is around 120mm, in a bad year (and there are many of them) there is none. We were chatting to a Namibian a few days ago who said that loving Namibia is learning the art of appreciating nothingness. He had it spot on.

This country is magnificent. Relentlessly and jaw-droppingly beautiful in a sparse, desolate way that no other country can match. We are not doing a whole lot with our time here, we constantly find ourselves checking into a campsite and being so captured by the beauty of our surroundings, the views, the sunsets and sunrises, the quiet and stillness around us, that we decide to stay for a while and just soak it all in. Time seems to stand still and we can´t help but join it.

Everywhere we go, everyone we meet is happy. White, black, rich, poor, somewhere in the middle. Just as in South Africa, everyone complains about the corrupt government (it´s all relative!), the state of the roads, the country going downhill. But whereas in South Africa everyone wants to leave if only they had the money to do it, we have not met a single person in Namibia in over a month here who would ever live anywhere else. Many Namibians travel and enjoy seeing the world, but all of them love coming home to the rolling dunes, the soaring mountains and the absolute nothingness that stirs the soul and fills the heart.

Before we left Luderitz we stocked up with food, fuel and water, ready to head north east towards the Namib Rand where we got married 8 years earlier. The Namib Rand is the largest private reserve in the country, owned by five families who got together many years ago to join their farms into a single expanse for the good of nature. Four of these families run upscale lodges and one runs a more modest affair including a campsite. One of the lodges, Wolwedans, is where our wedding took place but sadly, this time around, we couldn´t afford the €1,000 a night price tag! We tried to book into the reserve´s campsite but they had no availability so in the end we satisfied ourselves with staying at three different farm campsites around the edge.

The place where we hoped to spend our actual anniversary said they had no vehicle for sunset drives and their restaurant was full that evening. Somewhat put-off we reduced our stay there to one night and contacted the next campsite to ask if we could extend our stay to include our anniversary evening and enquired whether they had a restaurant for dinner – explaining about our Namibian wedding and celebrating the anniversary back where it had all started. I had a quick response asking whether they could call me on Whatsapp and when we spoke the Manager was amazing! She offered the extra night free of charge and asked whether we would like a bush dinner either by the river bed or the dunes (weather dependent). We were thrilled and excited!

But our anniversary was still six days away and before we left Luderitz itself we spent an unhurried day wandering around the bays and beaches. Shark Island had been a potential campsite for us whilst we were in Luderitz and it was beautiful.

But it was also wide open to the elements and the cool, damp mist and strong winds had kept us safely camped up in our sheltered Backpackers lodge, grateful for the walls surrounding us as the wind tore through.

We then pressed on to Agate Bay where the sand is made up of diamond mine tailings.

James drove over the sand ridges and across the beach but the memory of the accident was still raw and I was getting nervous as we fish-tailed around and suggested we moved on.

Diaz Point was wind-swept and empty. We admired the light house

And walked up to the rock jutting out into the sea. There was barely a soul around.

We drove to a couple of other beaches and bays and saw a few flamingoes but little else

Driving across the beach to Sturmvogelbucht and looking out over the rocky dunes, we could have been on the moon – a feeling that only intensified over the next few weeks as we saw fewer and fewer people.

We were still in the south and most people live in the north. The south is famed for its wide open expanses of dry, desert mountains and plains. Here is sheep farming country where small, family farms are around 15,000 hectares and going into the nearest town is a long day´s outing.

As we stayed in farm and after farm and chatted to the families there we discovered that when they say they leave the farm to visit town ´regularly´ they mean once or twice a year! The rest of the time they stay put and meet only their nearest neighbours maybe once a month to ensure the community stays glued together. It is a lifestyle not everyone could live with, indeed many of the families said they had started their campsites specifically to enable them to stay in touch with the outside world and meet new people every now and again.

So we had quiet expectations as we finally left Luderitz and headed towards our first stop. It was a three hour drive to their gate and then another hour spent traversing the 25km gravel and rock trail to the farm itself.

As we drove we felt the wind pick up and at one point James was fighting with the steering wheel to keep Henry in a straight line. Wind is a thing here as we have found out – occasional mountains surrounded by wide open plains are perfect wind machines and it soon becomes a habit to put light things down under heavier things, tuck belongings into corners and set the stove out only after seeing which way my hair is blowing to ensure it´s on the right side of Henry to stop the wind blowing the rings out. Out here you live with nature, you don´t try and fight it.

We stopped midway for a road-side lunch under some of the only trees we saw all morning.

And we had to smile as we passed very close to the gate of Wolwedans, our wedding venue – so near and yet so far!

But after a long a slow drive we finally arrived and found an oasis.

The pitches themselves were a short drive from the farm, spread out from each other and each with its own private ablutions block. It was a campsite designed by people who like to camp!

It was perfect in every way. We quickly set Henry up and settled in to sit and watch the world go by.

A sense of peace and calm descended over us and we felt as though we could have moved in and stayed there forever.

We did a short walk to the water hole and found wild, desert horses.

The only wild horses left in Africa, allowed to get on with their own business for a hundred years.

We wandered down to the farm and chatted to the family, getting advice on everything from farm life, to water management, to what to look out for when purchasing land and the best campsites to stay at further north.

On the first evening we went with them for a night drive and saw Bat-Eared Foxes, hares, Oryx, Springbok and my first ever Aardwolf. But the only thing my camera would pick up in the dark night sky was the weaver bird nest hanging in one of the very few trees.

Every night we were treated to a huge African sky full of stars and the gentle noises of nature doing its thing all around us.

This was where we also first spotted what I called the ´wine gum beetle´ who look for all the world as though they´re carrying a wine gum on their backs. I actually have no idea what type of beetle it really is but they are everywhere in Southern Namibia, running around in the sand and occasionally accidentally climbing up your foot. They are very sweet but we have to watch our step to make sure we don´t inadventently squish one!

Sadly we had to drag ourselves away from our oasis of tranquility and move on to the next campsite – the one who had let us down for our anniversary meal.

We were probably not well disposed towards them from the start but, despite being another absolutely stunning location, the owners were not particularly friendly and the campsite was badly thought out and designed.

We appreciated the scenery, you can´t help but be moved by landscapes such as these

But we left early the next morning heading for our third and final stop in the Namib Rand – Kanaan Desert Camp and our anniversary celebrations.

The moment we arrived we felt like old friends.

Kanaan is a 35,000 hectare farm, larger than most in the area, and their aim is to allow the natural flora and fauna to regenerate and re-establish the old animal migration routes. They encourage their neighbours to remove their fences to allow nature to bloom again – in fact they do everything I wanted to do back in 1999 when I first tried to buy land here. And yet despite being more business-like and focussed on the natural world rather than the human one, the Manager and her husband went out of their way to make us feel welcome and at home. We had the most serious conversation yet about buying land adjacent to theirs so we could join forces and increase the size of the reserve.

And, of course, they pulled out all the stops that evening for our anniversary dinner. The wind put a stop to our bush dinner but they gave us exclusive use of the small restaurant, decorated beautifully for us with floor candles, lights around the table, flowers and a bottle of champagne.

They picked us up from our camping spot and drove us back again so we could enjoy our champagne without holding back. The food was exceptional and we were even treated to the staff coming out during dessert to sing to us – clearly enjoying it as much as we were.

We couldn´t have asked for more.

We stayed three nights and spent our time reading, cooking, driving up to the restaurant to have lunch and use the free wifi for downloading photos, getting a blog post done and catching up on some business admin.

We even stopped off one day for a dunk in a small pool by reception.

In other words, we had spent six days doing practically nothing, surrounded by beauty and solitude and were feeling about as relaxed and contented as it was possible to be.

So now it was time to be tourists again and start joining the many white, hire-car Hilux´s with roof top tents, ticking off Namibia´s most famous sights. First stop being the awe-inspiring, towering dunes of Sossussvlei.

It was a long drive but one we didn´t mind at all!

We had chosen a campsite about 40 minutes from the gate into the Sossussvlei National Park which had great reviews and had confirmed they had space. It was a bumpy drive with some deep sandy tracks making me nervous again as we wiggled and wobbled through the shifting ruts. When we finally arrived at the campsite it was clearly not what it had once been – Covid hit Namibia just as much as everywhere else and many smaller tourist places suffered greatly. This one was run down and we were the only people there – but it was pretty and friendly.

The evening was cool, the strong winds we had felt around the Namib Rand farms had dropped and there were no mosquitoes – paradise to us! We sat outside all evening gazing at the stars, smiling at the curious Oryx by the fence and listening out for whatever else was prowling.

But I had a concern. Sossussvlei is in the heart of the Namib desert. Unrelenting sun, heat and sand. No shelter, no shade and only what water you can carry with you. The idea is to climb the dunes and walk from one vlei (dry salt pan) to the next, requiring a not inconsiderable amount of physical effort. Whilst early mornings and evenings here can be cool and pleasant, by 9-10am the sun is beating down at full blast and any exertion is almost impossible until the sun starts to cool at about 5pm. We were 40 minutes from the gate and Sossussvlei itself is an hour´s drive from there – we´d be lucky to get started before 11am and would be walking through the hottest part of the day.

In the end we didn´t even arrive at the gate until nearly 11am and it was a particularly hot day even by Namib desert standards. There was a campsite right there, one which had claimed on their web-site to be fully booked for the whole of October but appeared to be empty. The campsite also included the only food store and fuel pump in the whole gateway town of Sesriem – which turned out to simply be a gathering of tourist lodges!

We pulled in, filled up with fuel and enquired about a pitch. They happily let us book in for two nights and directed us to a lovely shady spot close to the ablution blocks.

We stocked up on food from their surprisingly well stocked store – even managing to pick up a new stainless steel wine glass to replace the plastic ones we bought from the UK – and set up camp. There was no point trying to go out to Sossussvlei today, we might never be seen again in this heat!

In fact, it was so hot that all we could do was sit under the awning reading and drinking water for the rest of the day. I had factor 50 sun tan lotion on plus my big wide-brimmed hat and was in the shade all day but still my face, arms and legs burnt.

By about 2pm it was so relentlessly hot that I started to feel a bit panicky, we had nowhere to go to escape the sun and the heat – even sitting in Henry didn´t work as the sun beat through the windows and if we put up the blinds it got so hot and stuffy inside you couldn´t breath.

But to take my mind off things I amused myself watching the enormous amount of birds surrounding us who were enjoying finishing off the fruit we were eating.

By 5pm it started to cool down and actually became quite nice. We had a whole 2 hours of niceness before I decided to go for a shower and found the whole place swarming with mosquitoes. I showered as quickly as possible, batting the little blighters away as I did and ran back to James and Henry – only to find they were suffering just as much as I had been. From a few paces away I realised James was doing ´the mosquito dance´, flapping his arms around his head and slapping his arms as they dive-bombed him. The whole campsite was full of these pesky, biting little creatures. How does a campsite get so infested with mosquitoes in the middle of the desert??

We darted inside Henry, killed or hoovered up (in my new insect hoover bought from the UK to James´ initial amusement and now serious relief) over 40 of them inside before settling in to watch a movie and get an early night ready for an early start in the morning.

Not much sleep was had, 2 or 3 mosquitoes had evaded the insect hoover and spent the whole night buzzing around and taking chunks out of us both. James woke up with over 30 bites on his arm, it was grim.

But undeterred we were up at 6am and at the national park gates for 7:15am. The drive to Sossussvlei is on a strangely smooth, straight tarmac road streaking between sand dunes and across the desert plains.

It was 60km long and I´m sure it wasn´t there 8 years ago. I´m pretty sure the car park at the end of it wasn´t there either! And I had been here twice before and not seen another soul – things had changed in the last few years, there were even public toilets in the car park!

The last 5km to Sossussvlei itself is deep sand, much more what I remember, and only open to 4x4s. Most people parked in the car park and got the shuttle bus the rest of the way (Shuttle bus?? Namibia, what are you doing??). We chose to let the air out of our tyres and drive ourselves. I was getting used to the wobbling and sliding of sand driving again and didn´t get quite so anxious this time.

When we arrived at the end of the road we found another car park – this time full only of hard core 4×4 vehicles and the shuttle buses, the lesser vehicles were left behind either in the first car park or, in some cases, abandoned enroute sunk deep into the sand!

Sossussvlei is lovely. These days it´s full of people but still lovely none-the-less. You cannot help but be impressed and inspired by the huge, towering, red dunes, as far as the eye can see.

The salt pans sit at the feet of the dunes and a walk across the sand to Dead Vlei was exactly as I remembered it

With fossilised trees thousands of years old jutting out incongruously from the dry bed.

I sat on the ancient river bed and took a thousand photographs, unaware someone else was taking photos of me!

Wherever you look you see ancient sands and windswept dunes.

We watched the brave and intrepid tourists climbing the Big Daddy and Big Momma dunes, some walking for miles along the ridges – harder than you imagine if you´ve never walked up or down a sand dune before as the sand slides under your feet making progress slow and painful.

After a short time we wandered back to Henry who was patiently waiting for us

And headed back up the long tarmac road towards the most famous dune of all – Dune 45. Perfect in its dune-ness, it is apparently the most photographed sand dune in the world.

I have attempted to climb Dune 45 twice before. The first time I was not at all prepared for how hard it would be and failed to even get a fraction of the way up. The second time I knew what to expect but we had just spent four wonderful days getting married surrounded by dunes and James had declared himself ´duned-out´ so the attempt was decidedly half-hearted and even less successful.

This time I set myself a challenge. Dune 45 has two ridges, the top ridge and the middle ridge. We had already walked a long way to Dead Vlei and back and it was nearly 10am so the sun was full strength. My target was to reach the first ridge – if I did that it would be a first and I would be happy.

As we set off I was determined but not hopeful. The first section is the steepest and hardest and we were both very soon out of breath. But eventually it eased up and soon became much easier. I could tell I was going to be able to make it to my target from a physical-strength point of view but as we gained in height and the ridge became increasingly narrow I wasn´t sure I was going to do it from a mental-strength point of view! Whilst I love heights I have an annoying habit of suffering with vertigo – shaking legs and dizziness – when I look down. It´s hard to fall down a sand dune, the sand just gently gives way and engulfs you, if you tried to fall off the ridge and down the slope you probably wouldn´t make it much more than a foot or two before stopping. But try as I might to remind my brain of that, the vertigo just kept getting worse and my legs kept getting shakier and shakier.

We stopped for a breather a couple of times and I found I couldn´t turn around to look back to James, nor even lift my head very high to look around, without my legs going to jelly. I stood quite still, only looking up, never down. Each time I became less and less sure I wanted to carry on but with James’ encouragement, and my own sense that I was being a little foolish, I pressed on until I finally made it to the top of the first ridge – thrilled with myself.

James was properly getting into the swing of this sand dune stuff now and was keen to get to the very top. I knew I would be better off not pushing my luck too far but encouraged him to go for it. So as I headed down, he headed up.

He made it all the way and took some incredible photos.

Meanwhile I ran the last few meters to the bottom, revelling in the feeling of weightlessness as the sand supported me careering down a slope that, had it been rock, would have meant falling to certain death!

I waited some time for James to reappear, taking photos of a lone Oryx and the surrounding scenery.

When he finally came back into view he was running down the steep side of the dune, clearly enjoying the same feelings I had had but from far, far higher up!

When he finally made it to the bottom I greeted him with an ice cold bottle of water from the fridge and found him grinning from ear to ear, ecstatic that he´d made it all the way (and two steps further so his were the furthest footprints in the sand!) and having had the time of his life stomping back down.

That night back at the camp site we ate dinner early and cleared everything away into Henry before the sun went down. We were exhausted from our day in the desert but also forewarned is forearmed, we were huddled up safely inside before the army of mosquitoes arrived. It is no exaggeration to say that I lay in bed that night with the almost deafening sound of high-pitched mosquito wings buzzing at every window. I have never known anything like it, it was like Alfred Hitchcocks ´The Bugs´!!

We were relieved to be leaving the next day and decided to head for the nearby Naukluft Mountain Park. We weren´t quite sure what to expect, with limited internet coverage planning our next steps was becoming a little difficult as our Lonely Planet didn´t have much detail around here. But we did know they had a 4WD trail through the park and a campsite so it was a good start.

We pumped Henry´s tyres back up for road driving, stocked up on more fresh chicken and veg from the store and set off, leaving the sea of white Hilux´s and mosquitoes far off in the rear view mirror…..