The Woermann Haus built in 1905/6 has a fantastic view of Swakopmund. Over ninety steps lead you up to views of the sea and towering dunes on the towns outskirts.
The East wind was keeping the coastline clear of fog but it was beginning to heat up. Time to leave.
We lingered in Swakop for longer than we should have mistakenly thinking we only had a short stretch to the Spitzkoppe today. We headed out on the tar B2 towards Usakos, then turned down the D1918. The fun began.
Progressively worsening conditions and bright reflection from the sandy surface made this slow going, as road definition was hard to make out. Tracks 4 Africa software on the GPS had kept us on the right paths thus far but threw a spanner in the works, as we got closer to the mountain. The road to the Spitzkoppe looked obvious to us, however, the GPS said not.
Following our silent on-board navigator we slowly continued on its demarcated route, pausing to open farm gates, and finally stopping next to a huge dried river filled with soft sand and deep tracks. Bugger. As luck would have it a couple of the locals having firstly tried unsuccessfully to sell us crystals helped us push these heavy bikes through where the path got progressively worse.
There was simply no escaping the sand as we crawled into the foothills, the bikes bucking and sliding alarmingly. We stopped for a breather and to take on water when the surroundings struck us. Sheer magnificence. I hauled out the tripod and camera as the sun lit the mountain with deep reds, something we would not have seen had we approached from the other side. Ploughing on, and I mean ploughing, we came to the main gate. We paid the entrance fee and were assured that the road was fine further ahead, ‘fine’ like ‘good’, again a relative term for donkey and cart.
Camping here is basic at best. If you don’t bring it in yourself it isn’t likely to be available. A trickle shower tried its best but the long drop was decidedly off the agenda. We managed to locate a small restaurant cum bar, no water available, but cold beers a plenty. Ah well – when in Rome.
Half a moon smiled down benevolently on the dramatic landscape as deep purple skies silhouetted this mountain giant.
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