After such a brilliant start, Namibia seemed as though it might be hard to beat. Day one had left us in awe of humanity and day two's scenery was other-worldly. Our entrance to the famous Fish River Canyon was however a little deflated. Having shredded our only spare tyre beyond repair on the way in, it was going to be a stressful drive to the next nearest town. Blisteringly hot and with minimal shade at said canyon, we were questioning decisions for the very first time (hopefully enough emphasis is being placed on just how important shade is to a day's enjoyment levels in this country!).
We can happily report that doubts were overcome and expectations blown away for the third time in 3 days when we eventually approached the camp ground at Ai Ais. Green, shaded and featuring phenomenal natural springs. No sulphur festering brown pools here, but luxurious spas beneath thatched roofs and stone walls. It was a picture perfect campsite like no other; even Nikita's festering buttock boil couldn't have spoiled such a spectacular place!
We went to the most famous bit of the famous canyon, and can report that it's just as big, wide and spectacular as it sounds - 2nd only to the USA's grand version and looking just like the postcards. Around the corner someone had even built a Route 66 themed roadhouse, which proved a delightful spot to stay and drink.
At some point though the tyres and the boil needed tending. Farewelling nature's 197km gash in the ground, we took the scenic route to Keetmanshoop. It's hard to appreciate such scenery when you're greeting every stone with apprehension. They jolt butt boils and they puncture tyres. Both hurt.
Eventually the inevitable happened and both burst. One producing more angst than the other, though Vincent handled both like a champ.
This time we were 76 k's from help, and we didn't have a spare to change anymore. What could have spelled drama ended up being a perfect learning curve. We'd bought a compressor and we'd bought 'tyre plugs'. Now was the time to test both. Girl dug them out, guy dug them in and presto! We could limp the last leg into town for tyre repairs.
Whilst duct taping sanitary pads to another's arse is a bonding experience like no other, a doctor was also necessary at this point. Arriving a cool 15mins early to the appointment, concerned desk staff said it would be a long wait. We found this quite funny - 15 minutes didn't seem much. As we were discussing the peculiarity of such an apology, a bubbly eavesdropper explained the time difference in Namibia. Five days in a new country and we hadn't even given it a thought. It was 8.45am. Not 9.45. Oops.
New rubber for the Landy and some lancing for the lady. From there it was east to Aus.
Aus is a tiny spot, conveniently located on the edge of the Namib desert and with easy access to the famous wild horses. Having accidentally started the day so early, it meant the afternoon could be spent nursing buttocks and relaxing.
It's 120km of beige from there to Luderitz. Once you get off the tar, it's hard to see the road because beige blends with beige and it all becomes a blur. Ostriches stand out from miles away.
Jammed against the coast, ludicrous Luderitz looks like a Bavarian village; All German history and architecture in a place that's quite absurd. Bright colours and dusty streets distinguish it from its northern cousins. And the heat. A fresh Atlantic wind picks up of an afternoon to keep people sane.
Just outside Luderitz is Kolmanskop - a now ghost town where diamonds could once be picked up off the streets and mining staff were paid 900 carats a week. The sand has taken over and the buildings of the wealthy belong in picture books now. Dunes spill through windows and bathtubs and ride up doorframes.
We stayed half a week to enjoy where the desert meets the sea, before backtracking through the 50 shades of beige. Not a diamond to be found, but not for lack of trying :)
Up next: the capital and the coast