Circles of Life

Do you ever feel like your life is going round in circles? I hate repetition and get bored very quickly without variety. For me, one of the best reasons to travel is because no two days are the same – most days you wake up in a different place, often a different country, with a different view and different things to see and do. Travelling is different from being on holiday – we travel to see and experience new things, meet new people, learn new things. There is also a progression, a moving onwards, forwards, refreshing your mind and your imagination with new experiences.

But right now things could not have felt any more opposite to that. Not only had we been in Namibia for nearly seven months, seeing the same roads, the same towns, the same campsites, we were also revolving in ever decreasing circles.

We fixed Henry, he broke again. We tried to leave Windhoek, something else went wrong and we had to go back. We saw a farm that looked perfect then when we went to visit we found problems. I got ill, we fixed me, then…..

We had been in Helmeringhausen for around a week by now and were about as excited as it was possible to be. The farm we had seen three days before had been perfect and, now we had had our proposal to buy just a part of it accepted, it was within budget. It was in the perfect location for me and James had warmed to the south immensely whilst we had been down there.

To help pass the rest of the day before we could visit again we popped in to the Helmeringhausen Hotel for lunch. The people were friendly, the food was ok. We stopped by the village shop to see what it sold and tried our best to be optimistic about the range we found! But there was a fuel station and that was a big win.

The next day we headed back out to the farm feeling as though we were going to our forever home. It was still a 20 minute drive from the town and the house was still easily accessible from the road. James was happy.

The owner appeared a little less friendly this time, we were concerned we had upset or disappointed him by only wanting to buy a part of the farm. He took us into the kitchen where he had set out his farm file and started showing me the layout of the two portions. He had government approval to split the farm into two different sections than we had anticipated leaving us 6,000 hectares spanning both sides of the road rather than nearly 7,000 hectares all on one side. That’s ok we thought, smaller than we wanted but still large enough.

But the map we were looking at showed the land area marked on each section. I looked at the land on the opposite side of the road and counted up a total of 1,250 hectares. That´s 1,250 hectares out of 6,000 hectares that was as good as useless to us – there were no roads through there, it was just mountains

Pretty to look at but it was 20% of the land area. My brow furrowed a little.

Slightly unsettled by a difficult start to our day, we agreed that I would go out with the owner to drive around the land again – he needed to look for his cattle and it gave me a good opportunity to see more of the farm. James was to stay behind and survey all the buildings.

Just as we were driving away I saw that Henry had a flat tyre. I called out to James whose shoulders slumped when he saw it. Things were not going our way today.

We drove back along the dirt roads we had travelled on our first visit and I was struck again by the beauty of the farm

But then we started going further into the northern area beyond the first ridge of mountains. It was hard going – rocky, steep tracks, impossible to go much faster than about 15km an hour. The experience was not helped by the fact that the owner´s Hilux was 40 years old, had no brakes, no started motor and no suspension. My back and neck started aching badly as we bumped along. And there wasn´t a great deal to see other than rocks

Eventually, after about an hour, we reached the boundary of the farm and, having found no cattle, turned back. We were out for around two hours in total and at least half of that had been driving around difficult, remote and isolated landscapes. I have to admit I was a little disappointed.

As we arrived back at the farm house James walked out to meet me looking equally deflated. He drew me away from the owner and told me that the house was falling down. The drains had gone and taken the footings with them, the front of the house was cracked everywhere and sinking. It could be fixed and James was the person to do it, but out here, five hours from the nearest source of building supplies and equipment? James looked bitterly disappointed and all the old thoughts of being cut off and in the middle of nowhere had started coming back to him.

After lunch James set about changing the wheel on Henry whilst I went back out with the owner. This time we went along the western boundary, over the mountains to that side and down a rather perilous mountain road. The view was here was breathtaking, I commented that this would be the ideal place to build a house – the owner didn´t disagree, it was stunning. And I was thrilled to see an African Wild Cat running up the mountain, my first ever in the wild, it made my day.

On the way back we spotted six kudu and stopped to watch them for a while. But that was all the wildlife we saw in four hours. We had also spent most of the drive that afternoon again in rocky and isolated areas, difficult and uncomfortable to drive

I estimated that at least a third of the land to the north and the west was challenging which, added to the 20% across the road that was inaccessible, left only around 2,500 hectares of the 6,000 hectares that was useable.

I asked the owner about water and growing crops. He wasn´t convinced. He said maybe a small patch of grapes could work and possibly some lucerne but no citrus fruits, no dates and certainly not 100 hectares of anything.

So, inaccessible land, insufficient water to grow anything meaningful and almost no wildlife. I was struggling to work out in my mind what we would do with this land – beautiful as it was.

By the time we got back, Henry had his spare tyre on and James was like a cat on a hot tin roof. We were supposed to be staying overnight but he clearly wanted to get away as quickly as possible. The situation wasn´t helped by the owner being significantly less friendly and welcoming than the first time we had been there. The conversation was stilted and we weren´t sure what to do. In the end James said to the owner that what with Henry´s tyre needing fixing and him not having found his cattle it was probably best if we headed off straight away. He looked surprised and disappointed but didn´t argue.

It was 4pm, we had expected to spend two days or more here getting to know the place and planning our future here but instead we were heading for Maltahohe two hours up the road back towards Windhoek with a ruined tyre and very heavy hearts.

It was dark by the time we arrived at our campsite and there was no hot water. We went to the Maltahohe Hotel for dinner and to talk things through.

The manager and the owner both recognised us from the two evenings we had spent there with Kobus and Johnny some weeks ago. They were so friendly and pleased to see us. We chatted to them for hours about everything that we had seen and thought and planned. The Maltahohe community and the Helmeringhausen community are close neighbours and friends so they knew most of the people we had met and could talk very wisely and helpfully about everything we were thinking through.

We both realised that the first time we arrived in Maltahohe to see the original, big farm many weeks ago it had felt very remote, like the middle of nowhere. Having spent so much time in Helmeringhausen it now felt like a bustling metropolis right in the heart of everything and well connected to Windhoek. It also still felt like home – there was something about the farm we had seen, the town and the people here that felt right.

But to me Helmeringhausen was still better as it was prettier, quieter and with a lovely community. I realised that being so remote meant it was less practical and it was now crystal clear to me that James was never going to want to live in Helmeringhausen. The stone house we had originally gone back to that town to see had appealed to him so much that he had been open to the idea and getting to know the place and talking to the residents had swayed him a long way in that direction. But almost buying a farm there that needed so much work doing had meant the realities of life in such a remote place had swung full force and hit him square in the jaw. And not only had he realised how impractical and expensive significant construction work would be, he also went on to think about how difficult and expensive everything would be living out there.

It was fair to say that we were both disappointed but I felt as though my heart was being left behind in that small town. I couldn´t help but acknowledge to myself that there were problems with the farm itself but we could afford it and it was beautiful. What I realised with a sinking heart was that this situation had not just turned James off to that particular farm but to the whole of the remote south.

I had got so close to my dream I could hardly believe it had been ripped out of my hands at the last minute.

We got in touch with the guys at Urban Camp, booked ourselves in for three nights and then headed straight back to Windhoek to fix Henry´s ruined tyre. We were both very quiet and downcast on the way as the beautiful south started to disappear into our rear view mirror

To cheer ourselves up we spent the day doing lots of interesting things in the city. First of all we went to price up a solar system for a potential future farm. We tried three different places and learnt a lot about what our requirements would be and how a system would fit together.

We then went to the new Inios dealership! I was initially more interested than James who seemed surprisingly reluctant to go in. But once we got talking to the salesman we had great fun. We now know all there is to know about the Inios Grenadier – the vehicle that most people agree is what Landrover should have brought out as the new Defender. And at only N$1.8M it was tempting!!

Back at Urban Camp we were busy cooking curry when Ollie appeared with a big grin. He joined us for an hour or so and we chatted about Landrovers, farms and Namibia in general. Our heads were in turmoil, we didn´t know what to do or where to go from here and everyone we talked to about it had a different view and offered a new thing to think about.

But life was not going to give us any space to think it all through anytime soon. As we chatted to Ollie I started to feel a very familiar pain, I frowned to myself and decided I was just imagining things – the surgeon had said there was a 50/50 chance I might get another blood clot as the amount of tissue damage during the first operation had prevented him from stapling everything up. But the operation had been less than 3 months ago and I had only been feeling well for 3 weeks – surely there was no chance of a recurrence this soon?

But the circular lives we seemed to be living had not done with us yet and a visit to the GP at the Lady Pohambra hospital the next day confirmed that my problem had indeed come back. Much less severe this time but I was walked straight round to see my surgeon and with a disappointed shake of the head he told me he would operate the day after next.

It was bad enough first time round when I was admitted straight away and had no idea what was in store for me. This time I had to wait 36 hours knowing exactly what was going to happen.

I spent most of that time working with our travel insurance people, the hospital and the surgeon to get a guarantee of payment in place for the costs of the operation so we didn´t need to pay up front like last time. Finally the reports had been sent, the doctors had consulted, the price agreed and the guarantee was in place by 10:30pm the night before the operation was scheduled. It had helped to give me something to think about but I was exhausted and more than a little stressed – at least I was tired enough to get some sleep.

We had to be at the hospital for 7am the next morning and I was quickly admitted and settled into my bed. The staff recognised me – as I walked in they said ´we know that face´. I was pleased to be remembered but replied with a very miserable ´it´s not a happy face today´!

Unlike last time I wasn´t panicking. I´d been through this before and knew the score plus I was only staying one night. James tucked me in but then was asked to leave – he could come back and see me once I was out of theatre

From then on everything happened exactly opposite to how it had the first time round. Rather than waiting for most of the day to be fitted in, I was whisked down to theatre within an hour or so of arriving.

Rather than an efficient fitting of the drip into my arm, I was so cold and scared that the anaesthetist couldn´t find a vein and after three failed attempts she had to painfully put the drip into my hand – and even that took another couple of tries. I was feeling very unhappy and sore by this point and just wanted to go under and get it all done with. But even that took much longer than last time and it seemed hours before everything finally went dark

And rather than waking up feeling pain free and somewhat euphoric, this time I woke up, said to the nurse leaning over me ´oh I´m here, I was dreaming about farms´ then immediately felt an incredibly severe pain building inside me. It was like a contraction that just got worse and worse. I was crying and holding my stomach curled up in agony. The nurses immediately gave me a shot of morphine and carted me back to the ward. But by the time I arrived the pain was even worse. They looked at me concerned and asked if it was getting any better. I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. They called the surgeon who advised an immediate shot of something beginning with a V which will apparently beat any pain. And half an hour later I was completely out of it – strange, disjointed images and flashes of light bursting through my brain at odd times but otherwise calm.

I slept on and off for the rest of that day and night, still not quite thinking in a straight line and feeling very ill. Either the painkillers or the anaesthetic had made me feel very sick and it was another 24 hours before I could eat anything.

But by the next morning things were much better. Again, the exact opposite of last time! The nurse came to remove my dressing – the point at which the problems and the pain started first time round. This time it was easy – there was no open wound to be ripped apart. The surgeon came to chat and told me there shouldn´t be any pain this time. I told him I didn´t believe him after last time and he laughed.

Sadly, I was right!

The next few days were very difficult. The painful contractions I had felt when I first woke up were a regular event. And I couldn´t sit up without incredible pain. I could only stand or lie and having spent a lifetime sitting at an office desk standing for long periods has never come easily to me. So the hammock at the campsite came in very useful and I lay in it for about three days – bored, aching and in agony.

In the meantime, James had a second patient to care for – Henry. Two days after my operation he left me reading my book in the hammock and took Henry to see Ollie. They did some investigations and finally found the cause of the awful thudding that had been coming from underneath – the A frame ball joint was lose. They also found that the cap on the new master cylinder was loose causing the leaking under the bonnet.

We still had the cap from the old master cylinder so James replaced it and the leaking stopped. The next day he went out and bought a new ball joint and he and Ollie replaced it straight away. The thudding stopped completely.

Henry´s issues were starting to slow down, James was ticking them off one by one and no new ones were coming to light.

Apart from the tyres. The flat at the Helmeringhausen farm was the second in a few weeks and we were concerned that the tyres were just generally worn out. I was initially annoyed, we had only changed them in Cape Town 16 months ago – they were supposed to be the best of the best, maybe in South Africa the quality isn´t what it is in Europe. But when we checked our records we realised that we had driven nearly 26,000 miles since then – and 26,000 very hard miles on rocks, sand and corrugated dirt roads. In fact these tyres had done very well to get this far!

So with a tiredness that only comes from owning a Landrover we bowed to the inevitable and ordered four new tyres. They would arrive from South Africa within a week.

By now my pains were starting to subside. I still couldn´t sit but I was feeling well enough to get out and about for a bit. So we booked an appointment to see a second agent dealing with permanent residency – she had been recommended by a few people and seemed to have a different view on the process than our original agent. We just wanted to hear all sides.

Her view was indeed more simple and straight forward than the other agent – she recommended we went straight for residency, missing out the years of work permits. But that was not the most important piece of advice that we received at that meeting.

As foreign nationals are not allowed to own more than 49% of agricultural land, our plan for buying our farm had been to set up a Nambian Trust of which we would be the beneficiaries. This meant we did not need a Namibian partner and no-one else had any rights to the land. Our lawyer and accountant had both told us it was completely legitimate and a process that had been used by many people for many years.

What we heard from this new agent was that the Namibian Government has introduced new laws in the last few weeks which changed all this. Their strong advice was not to go down that route – rather definitely own 49% than maybe own 100% they said.

It felt as though everything was piling up against us. Things just seemed to be getting harder and harder.

Strangely, as we were walking out of that meeting, one of our estate agents called to ask whether we would be interested in renting a farm rather than buying it. She had met with the owners of a farm she thought would be perfect for us but they didn´t want to sell, just rent it out. What a happy coincidence, we said we would go and have a look – our agent was thrilled!

A week after my operation the surgeon was happy with my progress and reassured me that all was going as expected, he said I would be back to normal within 3 months. Just hearing that in itself made me feel a hundred times better.

Henry had his shiney new tyres on, his thudding and leaking had stopped and he was looking and feeling about as smart as he had done in months

And we had three new farms to see.

We were very, very ready to leave Windhoek. We said more goodbyes to everyone at Urban Camp – they were all heavily invested in our farm hunt and were keeping all their fingers crossed that we would find somewhere and become permanent residents. I promised to keep them all updated.

We had about a month left on our visas before we had to leave Namibia regardless of whether we had found anywhere or not. We could return in the new year for another 90 days if we had found somewhere and start the process of applying for residency. If we hadn´t found anywhere, well, who knows what that future would bring.

We were already having doubts. I wanted to live in Namibia on a big farm and set up a conservation reserve so much I couldn´t even contemplate any other future for us.  James was equally keen to live a farmer´s life here and was as excited as I was by the prospect. But we also wanted to travel – 6 months travelling, 6 months at home on the farm, that had been the plan. Even 3 or 4 months travelling would be enough, but never no travelling. What we had been hearing from too many people was that if you owned a farm you couldn´t even leave it for a week-end never mind three or six months.

You had to take daily care of your animals and crops. You had to fix fences, you had to maintain security – anti-poaching as well as theft from your home, boreholes and solar panels. You had to ensure good water management all the time so your animals and crops didn´t run dry. You had to be there, all the time, every day. You could hire a farm manager to do all that for you but finding someone you could trust was next to impossible and the cost of paying a good manager plus the usual farm staff plus the maintenance of the farm itself was high.

Then there was the ownership issue – could we use a Trust or did we have to find a Namibian partner? Kobus had kindly offered and we trusted him absolutely – but there were so many legal complications with that it all seemed very hard.

It is safe to say that we were getting very confused. And that confusion only grew as our time in Namibia started to draw to a close. There just seemed to be no right answer….it was never supposed to be this hard.