For months, I longed to explore Africa by my own accord. A failed attempt at securing a vehicle in Tanzania, along with some chiding from siblings on the idiocy of driving in the region, in addition to tight timelines for getting to the gorillas, all combined to prevent us from getting behind the wheel of our own vehicle to do some exploring.
At long last, we found the perfect location to finally check off the box of a good, old fashioned, road trip through Africa. Arriving in Namibia, as was the case in Botswana, there was a stark difference in population numbers compared to the other African countries we’ve explored up to this point. Miles and miles filled with nothing. No people, no crops, nothing. Huge countries, seemingly devoid of people. The capital city of Windhoek feels like it belongs in Wyoming or Montana. The few tall buildings of banks and major hotel chains let you know it’s a major city, but it’s mostly all confined to one street.
We picked up our 4-wheel drive, confirmed it had a solid spare tire, and headed north towards Etosha National Park, ready for some more safari adventures, the self-drive version. Expecting to be riding on dirt roads for much of the trip, we were pleasantly surprised with the freshly paved highway leading to the park, only realizing we weren’t driving back in the states as we passed warthog crossing signs and the occasional large baboon sitting on top of roadside fence posts. The pavement gave way to white dirt as we entered into Etosha, a vast plain as far as the eye can see, home to thousands of zebras, springbok, and oryx. The massive herds against the backdrop of endless plains, turned green with the rainy season, was a sight to behold. We explored every offshoot we could, waiting at watering holes for the animals to arrive, paying us no mind. Our camp in the middle of the park contained an amphitheater-like viewing area just above a natural water hole. Following a canned food-filled meal, we made our way to the water hole in the dark, and waited. After an hour or so of nothing, we began to doze off, only to be awoken by whispers from our fellow game-trackers. Turning our heads around, we watched a lone Rhinoceros wander its way towards the water, clumsily stumbling over some rocks in its path. Having never caught a glimpse of a rhino up close, it was a joy to watch its goofy mannerisms and pronounced nose. The rhino hung around for a few minutes, meandering in and out of the bush before getting its fill of refreshment and disappearing back into the night. Minutes later, a hyena emerged, sauntering its way to the shore to loudly slurp up a drink before heading off. We watched and waited for another 30 minutes as hyenas howled and cried what seemed like 10 feet behind us, quite the soundtrack. Satisfied with our encounter, we called it a night…dinner and a movie (and a hyena concert), not a bad date!
Leaving Etosha, we found the adventurous roads Namibia has grown famous for. Fairly well-maintained gravel roads make up most of the road network, winding their way in, around, up, and down the rolling hills and dunes of the country. There is a goldilocks speed required to avoid the washboards that make the ride too bumpy, but also not lose traction going around the corners. Driving for hours on end with the tail of the car being ever so slightly out of control is exhilarating, to say the least. Our excursion took us through Demaraland, which I can best describe as a real-life version of Disney’s Frontierland. Random crystal stands with strange voodoo-like puppets seem to pop up randomly out of the desolation. Villages consisting of just a few houses exist miles from each other, as giant boulders, rock formations, and mountains pop up here, there, and everywhere. Indigenous tribeswomen, bare-breasted and all, sell the most random of stones and souvenirs next to tourist stops that seem to see no more than a couple dozen people a day. We drove for hours seeing only a handful of other vehicles, visible from miles away by the cloud of dust trailing their cars. Our campsites were often built in and around giant boulders, perfect for sunset climbs to take in the scene. Amidst the burnt orange of the desert countryside wander the most unlikely of animals: giraffes, elephants, baboons, horned animals of all shapes and sizes, the list goes on. It’s quite startling to drive through what feels like Arizona and see a giraffe pop up around a corner, right after passing a group of wild ostriches chasing after your car.
The highlight of Demaraland is Spitzkoppe, a Matterhorn-like, boulder mountain surrounded by rock formations, natural pools, and millennia-old rock paintings. The campsite bar is filled with old, popped tires, and all your favorite junkyard car parts, victims of the unforgiving roads. We sat on pallets and enjoyed a drink at the foot of the mountain, just a handful of travelers enjoying the sights with plenty of elbow room. Our Spitzkoppe sundowners were taken in from near a natural rock arch, with just a small amount of risky rock scrambling involved. The sun’s bright reds and oranges only outshined by the golden mountain in front of us, we again found ourselves wondering how we got here.
The longer we travel, it seems as though we keep finding ourselves in the middle of the middle of nowhere, embarking on journeys that only seem to make sense in hindsight, that couldn’t possibly have been drawn up without putting ourselves in the middle of it all. It often times takes a little leap of faith, but those leaps have rewarded us ten-fold what we could have ever wished for, be it with sights, experiences, relationships, or personal growth.
Maybe we should all explore a little more.