Crossing into another country put this whole walk into perspective. It was the first time either of us had set foot on Namibian soil and, as we looked at the rocky, barren landscape in front of us, we sensed that we might have bitten off more than we could chew. We had already walked 1,373 kilometres, but another 2,200 kilometres lay ahead…
Skirting around the Sperrgebiet, Namibia’s restricted diamond area, we eventually made it to Lüderitz, looking forward to walking beside the sea again. However, after communicating with the authorities for the past seven months, we were still unsure whether we’d get permits to walk the concession coastline to Walvis Bay.
Resting under a giant quiver tree before pitching the tent for the night, on the road between Rosh Pinah and Aus.
We ended up spending three weeks in Lüderitz. After days of being sent from one person to the next, it became apparent that the only stretch of Namibia’s coastline we could gain access to would be the 250 kilometres of public access between Walvis Bay and the Ugab River mouth.
Giving up my dream of walking the Namibian coastline took a long time to accept, but in hindsight it worked out for the best. We saw much more of the country and were able to meet some very interesting people along the way. Our new route meant that we had to follow the gravel roads through the Namib Desert, trying to stay as close to the sea as possible. In reality, though, we were almost constantly more than 150 kilometres away from the ocean. We traded the coast, with its temperate climate, often cooled by mist and cold wind, for the desert and the wilderness of northern Namibia, which brought sun, heat and wild animals.
Road signs were often the most interesting feature in a barren landscape.
The landscape transformed from rocky and mountainous in the south to flat grassland plains and the sandy, rock-strewn hills of middle Namibia. Landscapes in this vast country change about every 20 kilometres, and when travelling by car, you might miss some of the nuances. But on foot, when you’ve been watching a tree come closer for the last 15 kilometres, every little change is a feast for the eyes – not to mention a gift of shade.
The Great East Wind, which blows in from the Kalahari and over the Namib Desert, made the going difficult at times.
We managed to make it through what we called ‘the valley of a thousand hills’, ending up in the Gaub Canyon, where we were caught in one of the worst thunderstorms we’ve ever experienced. It rained so much that the Gaub River flowed for the first time in many years.
This was a big landmark, and gave Erlo and Lauren an excuse to have a little fun while resting. The sign is north of Solitaire on the C14.
After making it to Walvis Bay, we headed along the beach again to Swakopmund and beyond, with lots of jackals keeping us company. One night, while camping about 50 kilometres inland from the Skeleton Coast, there was a sound so loud and eerie that I woke up sitting in a crouching position. Lauren tried to convince me that it was just a harmless jackal, but she knew as well as I did that we were dealing with a much larger animal. Sleeping in a tiny two- person tent didn’t seem like such a great idea any more. I grabbed my camera and torch while Lauren got out the pepper spray. After unzipping the tent, our rude awakening turned out to be a spotted hyena, standing so close we could count every one of its spots.