The fog lifted as we continued along the Skeleton Coast. The salt paved road sees few tourists and even less rain. It was like cruising the perfect super highway through the wide expanse. The wind picked up blowing sand across the road, creating a haze more eerie than the fog. Add some shipwrecks and the carcasses of animals that never made it, and it's the stuff of scenic nightmares.
Eventually we got to another permit zone and were forced inland. Landscapes changed instantly from grey to red. It kept changing regularly. Past St Nowhere and Wereldsend to the other side of Opuwo; "The end" in local language. It's hard to do justice - with words or with images, to the wonderlands we passed. 3 cars and 3 villages went by the window in 3 days. For the rest, it was freedom camping, hills, valleys, the empty huts of nomads and natural vistas of every description.
We picked up Nally on a road 70 odd k's from nothing. She works in a lodge for 6 weeks at a time. During time off she tries to hitch home, but it often takes her a week to get a ride. It took 3 hours to drive her the 70ks to her village. Corrugated roads, riverbeds and lots of sand. The last 10 took the longest in the dark. Over a hill we saw 3 single lights. Nally was excited because we'd arrived.
The next hour was a blur of lines in the sand as we drove around god knows where picking people up, dropping folks off, finding the campsite and then going back to drop the others off at a bar. Apart from one light at that bar, we couldn't see a thing beyond the headlights, had absolutely no idea where we were OR how to get back. We ended up in the riverbed. Thankfully, the campsite manager had the presence of mind to stand in the riverbed waving a torch and giving us something to aim for. Revs in the sand and we were there!
Next morning we met up with our Dutch world travelers, piled into Landy and drove the riverbeds again (on purpose this time) to a gorge. We visited the local Himbas and tracked down some critically endangered 'desert adapted elephants' with Uanii, our newly recruited local guide. At one point he also found the trail of some rhino - just their footprints were enough to get us excited!
The road out of there was bleary. We ended up in the riverbed (unintended) yet again, with herds of giraffe and springbok scattering around us, before farewelling our friends and turning north.
Opuwo was touted as the spot for supplies. A bit of a 'one stop shop' or 'if you don't get it here you'll be hungry from now on' kind of place. We rolled in at lunch time on the last Friday of the month. If you want to get anything done, we can recommend not trying it out on the last Friday of the month. In Southern Africa, that means payday. Payday means queues of people. Really really long queues. At ATM's, grocery stores, petrol stations and everywhere in between, Himbas, Hereros and humans from everywhere congregated to get things done. Amidst the mayhem, herds of goats, donkeys and cows weaved between lines and traffic. It was a people watchers paradise!
Having stocked up and refuelled we scooted north where the pace was much slower. Driving from Epupa to Ruacana past jaw dropping falls had been a bit of a dream. The remoteness, road condition and fact we were traveling alone made it a no-go. Until we met Uwe.
Tasked with turning a goat track into a passable road, he'd called Epupa home for months. With killer views over some impressive falls, we shared many whiskeys and the local 'brandy and coke'. In the end, he became our unofficial guide, volunteering to drive with us through the 'Namibian Riviera'. "Fuck it! We go!" he declared.
Uwe waited patiently the next morning as we got ourselves together with hangovers, then spent the rest of his day off waiting patiently as we navigated his road too slowly. He showed us natural springs, the tracks of giant pythons and bought us melons from tiny villages along the way. Near the end he bought us long necks in an unofficial bar (no booze on Sundays here) before showing us the best vantage point at Ruacana Falls. We shared a few beers to say thanks at the campground, though the next morning we rose far too late to say thanks properly; he was up early and heading back to finish the road.
We returned for another taste of the Ruacana falls once we did get going, surprised again by Namibian friendliness. Ushered through a border post with smiles and a wave, we headed into the no man's land between Namibia and Angola to climb right up to, into, onto and even over the falls if we'd wanted to!
From there we headed for another big Namiban name: Etosha. Some locals scoffed that the country's biggest national park is a glorified zoo. Any notion of this was quickly forgotten when the first HUGE elephant flapped his ears and stomped his feet our way in disdain. We fled out of his way in terror with a carload of other people. Zoo it isn't.
After 3 days wending our way through the forests and plains, we'd rounded out the big 5, as well as loads of understated and totally gorgeous others. Everything from the damara dikdik to the kori bustard. Bat eared foxes, African wildcats, black and white rhino, steenbok, impala and zebras. It's an animal enthusiasts paradise. In the campground squirrels were about, but the honey badger reigned supreme. Causing havoc well into the evening, the honey badger flipped us the bird and stole people's stuff. Honey Badger definitely doesn't care!
We also managed to infuriate more authorities leaving Etosha. Everywhere else in Namibia, permits are issued according to calendar days. The permit date said 'expiry May 5th'. We arrived at the exit at 17.05pm on May 5th, to be informed by a surly burly lady that we were well past our 10.37am exit time. In Etosha it's timed to the minute. Oops. Its a 20km trip back to the office where fees are paid. Gate staff cannot accept money, but few people are keen on turning back, so it's the perfect opportunity for the "oh you can just leave the money here if you don't want to turn back" scam. Forget it! Pride wounded, there was no way the gate bitch was profiting from my stupidity! We chose the turn back and get the official freaking receipt option. She's obviously making quite a bit of pocket money out of what seems to be a common error though - the people behind us were late too, only they didn't turn back to get the receipt.
Up next: To Botswana