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Don't panic

Etosha - Grootfontein - Fiume Lodge

sunny

We realise how little we’ve seen of the huge Etosha park and regret that we’re not spending more days here. Before heading to our next destination we have half a day to do our own game drive in the park. We leave Onguma Bush Camp, but not without saying goodbye to Edwil. We shake hands and he asks if we will come back to Namibia and tell family and friends to come too. We promise we will. And while the springbok are drinking at the pool and the gardeners are sprinkling the grass, we load our bags into our loyal Ford vehicle. Soon we reach the entrance gate to the park. I register and then we enter, not knowing what to expect. You can drive hundreds of kilometers around here, but with limited time our strategy is to focus on a few waterholes and be patient. The start of our game drive is very promising. At taking our first turn on one of the gravel roads we spot a rhino! A bit in the distance, but clear enough for us to see. The rhino is an endangered species and we’ve seen many ‘save the rhino’ stickers. We take it as a promising sign for the game drive, spotting this animal straight at the start.

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We continue to the ‘Pan’s Edge’ where we see large groups of zebras. And this time we are taking our time to observe. No Moses today, no hurry. But the real treat comes when we stop a Groot Okevi, a waterpool. We’re the only car stopping there and a large group of zebras is hanging around the water. Then we see a giraffe coming over the hill. The zebras seem to make room and move away from the water. Then there’s a second giraffe, a third, a fourth, ... untill we count ten. We can’t believe our eyes. They bend down their long legs to drink, while a few others seem to keep an eye on the environment, including our car.

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I don’t easily use the word awesome, but this sight really is. It’s getting a bit hot in the car, but we are just spellbound by what we see. The giraffes move away a bit from the water. And once more this is the sign that another species is coming over the hill. And there it is: an elephant. I feel the kind of excitement normally only kids seem to feel (glad to know I still got it in me!). We’re sort of holding our breath because this is all happening so close to us. And we hold our breath even more when the elephant doens’t seem to be interested in the pools and walks straight through in the direction of our car. I feel my heart pounding like crazy and try to remember the words from my guide book:

Don’t panic. Console yourself with the fact that animals are not normally interested in people. You are not their normaal food, or their predator. If you do not annoy them or threaten them, they will leave you alone.

Our car window is open, but I don’t want to disturb this big guy in any way and we stay quiet, very quiet. No photos. ‘Don’t look him in the eye!’ Lesley whispers. In my imagination I can see the elephant’s snout coming into the car, but he passes right in front of us. I’m so glad we didn’t stop the car 2 meters forward because it seems to be a path. We breath again and can’t believe what just happened. Even if we don’t see anything for the rest of the day, we are over the moon already.

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We decide to take our chances at nearby Klein Okevi, a smaller water pool. There are already 3 cars in front of us and it takes us a minute to see why. There’s a lion chewing his lunch, hidden behind a rock. And after about 15 minutes we suddenly see there’s a second lion by the water, waiting his turn to eat. A group of springbok is watching from a distance how their family member gets eaten. Waw, Etosha is one fascinating place. It’s great that you can explore by yourself and stay as long as you like to observe (as long as you make sure you’re back at your camp by sunset).

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Then we hear heavy steps coming out of the bushes. It’s an elephant. We’re guessing it might be the one we saw at the other pool. He was one his way to somewhere. So there you have it, two lions and an elephant. There’s clearly and understanding between them, they are no natural enemies. Just when we feel it can’t get any better, more elephants approach untill there is a group of 5 drinking and taking a mud bath, spraying the water over their backs and bellies. Even the lions give us a closer look. The first one gets up from his meal, allowing the other one to have a bite.

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Before we know it, half a day has gone by and it’s time for us to go and pay our park fee, fill the diesel tank and then leave for our next address near the town of Grootfontein, the gateway to Bushmanland. It takes us about 2,5 hours to get there. Fiume Lodge is situated in the middle of nowhere. We open the gate from the main road and drive a few more kilometers on a bumpy little road. The lodge is set in wide gardens and is part of a working farm. At reception we inform about the visit we planned to a Bushman community and then our perfect day gets a little crack as it seems our travel agent has made a mistake; the lodge doesn’t organise visits anymore to the Bushman. The best place to do that is Fiume Bush Camp, from the same owner, but 75 kilometers away. Timo, the manager at the lodge, does many phone calls and the proposal is to spend one night at the lodge and then drive to the bush camp the next morning, spend the day with the Bushmen and stay the night at the camp. “Don’t worry, we will sort it out,” Timo says. We hope so, because the Bushmen are the only reason we are here.

The lodge isn’t very lively today. There are only to other guests: a man and his daughter. We have cool cola as sundowner watching antilopes (although I’m not even sure now they were antilopes....) on the surrounding fields. Diner is served at 18.30. On the menu today: zebra meatloaf. “You won’t see the stripes,” Timo jokes. I’m hungry, so I’m not thinking too much about the kind of meat. All I know is that once more it’s a delicious meal. Father and daughter finish their meal and then go tot o their room, but it’s bearly 7 p.m. Timo comes to our table and we start a conversation. He confirms we can go to the bush camp in the morning. We should be there around 8.30 a.m. to start the day with the Bushmen. He says we will like it. We ask him about Grootfontein and he says it’s a town of military and government officials. Which explains why we saw some better housing there. Once Timo starts talking, i’s hard to stop him, so we also hear about the many bars in Namibia. Even houses and huts that don’t have BAR written on it, sell alcohol if you just knock on the door and ask. “Yes, alcohol is a big problem in Namibia,” he says. And so is speeding in cars. Not a very good combination. The police road blocks are set up to reduce speed accidents, but some police officers are corrupt. Luckily, we have only met friendly police people or uninterested officers who just read their newspaper and wave their hand to tell you to drive on. I have a feeling Timo is a bit of a speeder himself, but his trick is to invite the local police officer for a meal in the lodge now and then.

It’ still early when we get to our room, but we’re still processing all the impressions of the day and need a good night rest to make an early start. Above the beds are photos of the Bushman people. We can’t wait for tomorrow.

Posted by Petravs 04:43 Archived in Namibia Comments (0)

In the footsteps of the Bushmen

Fiume Bush Camp

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There is not another social group on this planet which has been studied, written about, filmed (remember The gods must be crazy?) and researched more than the Bushmen, or San, of the Kalahari. Today only 3% of Namibia’s population is San, and the image surrounding this group is quite stereotypical. I don’t know what to expect today. Somehow I fear we might step with open eyes into a tourist trap promising us to show the ‘authentic’ Bushman way of living while we all know they also wear jeans and t-shirts today and don’t necessarily live in primitive huts.

To make up our own minds about it, we just have to go out and discover. It’s an early start again. Up at 6 a.m., bags packed once more, breakfast, check-out and then hitting the road to the Fiume Bush Camp. That’s the plan at least. But after breakfast there is discussion again about the mistake with the booking and who will pay for it. It takes a phone call to our Dutch travel agent to settle things. Lesley has to do some negotiation for them to pay the extra costs. Luckily they give in and we can go. We travel for somewhat more than an hour on gravelroad and then reach the gate to the Bush camp. There’s a sand road behind it, so for the first time we have to use 4x4 power. The engine roars though, you can tell we’re not used to this ☺

When we reach the small parking area two people are waiting for us. They are slim built and small, clearly San. It’s a man and woman, they wave at us as we drive in and have the brightest smile. And no, they are not half naked, but wear ‘normal’ clothes. They introduce themselves as Morris and Edna, husband and wife. Their job is to welcome us and lead us to the village where the day just started. There are two other guests today and they already are with the Bushmen together with the owner of the Bush Camp. We tell Morris and Edna how glad we are to be there and hope we are not too late. “We could hear you coming down the driveway,” Morris laughs and imitates the roaring of the engine.

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From the car we follow him straight into the bush while Edna takes care of the bags. We walk over a sandy path and there we see a few huts and people sitting in small groups on the ground. Only 3 people are standing up: the two other guests and the owner of the camp. He introduces himself as Jörn, and the couple are Jacob and Eva. We missed a part of Jörn’s introduction. “For the next 3 or 4 hours you’ll go into the bush. It might feel strange for the first half hour, but just follow them and you’ll be fine. Ask any questions you like.” Jörn introduces us to one of the men, his name sounds like Tunda (really still no idea if this is right), but first you make a clicking sound. Tunda speaks English. Jörn leaves us with the San and off we go into the bush. Women, men, kids come with us. They do wear the traditional clothing, which isn’t much. Tunda turns out to be the perfect guide. He speaks slowly and softly, we have all the time in the world. We learn about plants, trees, medicinal use of roots and leafs, materials they use, poisenous arrows, ... Tunda mostly lets one of the people explain something in Koisan language (the others really don’t speak English) and then he translates. It’s fascinating to hear the clicking language. And they love it when we ask questions, even thank us for it with a smile. And spending these hours with them shows us how they live between traditions and modernity. This generation still knows all the traditions and they walk barefoot in the bush. But today they are no longer allowed to hunt and the days of nomadic living are behind them. Government regulations and land ownership by European settlers marked huge changes. But here we are with this group of people who still cherish and practice the way of living their ancestors did thousands of years before them. I have to think of the rock engravings we saw in Twyfelfontein. It’s like going back in history following their footsteps. Slim built as they are, they are so well adapted to moving through this landscape. I feel like a clumsy giant walking with them, especially when my scarf gets wrapped into a thorny branch and I need Tunda to free me. The interaction between the group is really playful and gentle. At one point they pick some berries and they hum a song and shake their bum. “I always feel happy when I eat the berries,” Tunda smiles.

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In the shade of a tree we all sit down to see how they make fire. The young boys are still learning, but I wonder if their generation will still pass all this on to the next. The bush and outback clearly are their habitat, but the modern world draws in. Here under this tree, we are far away from everything though and it’s great being able to ask many questions. We talk about marriage, about what it’s like to live in one place instead of moving around, ... The older people in the group don’t even know their age. They just know what season they were born in. Nowadays everyone gets an ID, so that’s different too. They thank us again for the conversation and the interest. Then it’s time for a little break. We return to base camp for lunch and later in the afternoon we’ll see them all again to see more about village life. Edna serves us salads and bread and it tastes really good. It’s the occasion for us to talk to Jacob and Eva, who are Israelian. We talk about our trip, our countries, .. and we all hope Donald Trump won’t win the American elections. Jörn joins us as well. He runs the camp, but also works at the farm. His father bought it as a young man, and Fiume Lodge is also part of it. So Jörn is a farmer, we learn he is also trained as a cook, he hunts and ... he speaks the Koisan language. “As a kid, the bush was my playfield. I was out from morning to evening,” he says. On the farm they had many San working and Jörns father asked them to only speak Koisan with Jörn. It is very unique for a white person to speak this language fluently. There are about 8 varieties of clicks and the language is much richer than ours. It’s fascinating to see him interact and laugh with the San. It’s clear he wants the best for the families living here, but at the same time it’s a business agreement. Jörn and his family own the land and have contractual agreements with the Bushmen living there. The visits with tourists have been happening for a few years already but Jörn only started the Bush Camp in 2015. Before that, all guests stayed at the Fiume lodge and they would drive up here. But he wanted to create a different kind of experience and built safari tents so guests spend the night here. Though he is still having some trouble to reach the ‘right’ group of travellers. Some arrive and freak out over the fact that there’s no wifi, no pool and basic safari tents without airco. In fact, another Israelian couple with private driver arrives as we are having lunch and they refuse to spend the night at the Bush Camp. They leave to go to the lodge. I don’t get it. There is a really nice feeling about the camp, the safari tents are really comfortable (they have beds and even a bathroom!) and the lack of wifi is more of a blessing than a curse to me. Lunch flies by and we talk for about 3 hours at the table before returning to the village.

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By now all the kids are there too and everyone is sitting or lying down. Some women are making jewellry and Tunda invites us to take a closer look. A little girl, she can’t be older than 2, is helping her mum with her tiny fingers. Then the young boys want to show us their hunting techniques. They show how they would sneak up to an animal, using sign language. It’s funny to see them pretending it’s real, while they are not even allowed to hunt anymore. Then they use the arrows to shoot their target (and miss ☺). Lesley gives it a go as well. As last part of the afternoon the women and children perform a few dances and play some games. They all seem to enjoy themselves and although I know they have safari tents set up not far from the pimitive huts we see here, none of this feels fake. I’m glad we’ll return one more time after dark to see the medicine man and the big campfire. Before heading back we buy some jewellry and the nice thing is that there is no pressure, no negotiating, they let us look and don’t push us. What a difference to the Himba!

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Jörn is waiting or us as we get back to the camp. We enjoy a drink together and I ask him if he reckons this way of living will survive. “No chance, there is no hope,” he answers in his straightforward way. “The kids now are a different generation. Who wants to earn money by running around half naked in the bush?” Well, it is Jörns project with the Bushmen, but he clearly isn’t just a dreamer with a romantic view on preserving ancient traditions. Bushmen are still regarded as inferior, so all around southern Africa they are having a hard time surviving. In Botswana they sent them to the cities where most of them end up drinking and selling their bodies for sex. “The thing also is: they have no concept of future. If they earn money today they ask me to buy them 30 kgs of chicken. They don’t save for later.” I see the problem, at the same time I think living a bit more in the here and now can be a good thing. But maybe not to that extreme. I have no plans to spend my savings on chicken ☺

As dark sets in, Jörn leaves us in the care of his friendly staff. It’s time for a quick shower (the light bulb in the tent fllickers on and of, battery problem) and then dinner. They put some lamps on the table so we can see a at least a little bit what we are eating. Once again we enjoy our meal. Then it’s waiting till we hear sounds coming form the village. Eva and Jakob return to their tent untill then and we hava a chat with Morris. He’s 27 and father of 5 (!) kids. He has been to Europe but needed about 6 layers of clothes. This guy has a good sense of humour, he talks about how some guests are in shock when they arrive in the bush camp. “We had this American couple and the woman was crying. She saw no white people and cried ‘oh no, I’m going to die here!” He does a good imitation of the hysterical woman and at this point I’m crying with laughter. Even our fellow guests Eva and Jakob apparantly needed some time to adjust. They arrived the day before and Jakob was asking about wifi and airco. Luckily they seem to be satisfied now.

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Around 8 p.m. the village seems to be ready for us and we walk into the bush, drawn by the huge campfire. The kids are put to bed, but all the adults are there. We are invited to take a seat and it’s clear the medicine man is the central figure here. He urges the others to sing and bring him in a trance. In some cases the medicine man might even collapse. Apparantly they use a sort of breathing technique that causes oxygen deficiency. That’s the rational explanation. The Bushmen prefer the spiritual explanation. It’s all about connecting with higer forces, with nature, with ancestors. Even lions aren’t a real danger, as they believe there is a spiritual bond and therefore communication between man and lion. I’m not sure I want to see it tested in real life, but there’s no lion around tonight anyway. The medicine man does indeed seem to be in some trance. He shakes his body, makes strange noises and then stands still with one woman in the group. She is pregnant. I don’t know what he is saying or doing, but it is believed he connects with the person who needs some protection or cure. Luckily the medicine man doesn’t approach one of us and he doesn’t fall down. “Sometimes, they can get so deep in trance they die. So the medicine man needs a wife who can assist him and get him out of the trance when it’s dangerous,” Morris explains.

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Then the medicine man says he wants to bless us for a good night sleep. He sits in front of Jacob and puts a kind of powder (I really don’t exactly know what it was) on a few points in his face and his neck. He repeats the same with Eva, Lesley and me. I close my eyes and actually feel very calm as he puts his finger on my skin. Strange. I think it’s the sensation of the whole experience, sitting here around the fire, under a sky full of stars in the middle of nowhere. Although we don’t speak the Koisan language we clearly understand the medicine man’s hint when he produces a snoaring sound. Morris explains: “ He says you must be tired.” In other words, it’s time to go. “Even without wifi, we got the message,” Jakob says, but I’m not sure the medicine man understands when Morris in turn translates. Maybe they want to have a little party just between them. So we thank all of the people for the entire day, a fascinating experience.

We retreat to the camp; Jakob and Eva go to bed, but we feel too excited to sleep just yet and sit around the campfire with Morris for a while. He tells us a bit more about his visit to Europe and imitates how hurried people walk here. He’s a bit of an actor pretending to wear a purse and saying “oh, busy busy busy”. Again, we are laughing so hard. And we do so again when he tells the story of how he got bitten by a snake and reproduces his scream when he realised he was bitten. Lesley sighs: “I feel happy here!” And I know what she means. While apparantly it brings some people to tears of desperation, we love the simplicity. Not to say we are ready to join the bushmen and walk around with just a piece of cloth around the waste, but it is so good to be far far away from the usual busy, crowded, complicated lifestyle. It’s just the campfire, good company and many many laughs.

Being blessed by the medicine man our nightrest can’t go wrong. It’s colder now, but our beds are warmed by a hot water bottle.

Posted by Petravs 04:40 Archived in Namibia Comments (0)

Lost

Grootfontein - Waterberg

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I slept quite well, but Lesley had an almost sleepless night. She got cold and it seems the excitement of the day and evening kept her mind awake. Or maybe the medicine man used a different kind of powder for her...

It’s 7.3O when we arrive at the breakfast table. Jörn cuts us fresh water melon and laughs when he hears the night was cold. “You Europeans, you come from cold temperatures and then you are cold here in Namibia ...”. Jakob urges him to make a marketing plan for the bush camp. “You have two communication specialists at the table,” he adds. Meaning us. We end up writing our email addresses in the business book, but I have a feeling this outback guy isn’t really up for marketing. He needs to get back to the farm as his parents are going away for a long weekend and he hugs us goodbye.

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We should get going, but it takes a little while longer before we actually get a move on. We ask Morris and Edna to pose for a photo with us. “I’m the man, so I’ll be in the middle,” Morris smiles - though standing next to him I feel like a giant. Then our luggage is fetched, once more we check our roadmap for the next destination and we wave our wonderful hosts goodbye as we tackle the sand road again to reach the main road.

We are heading for Waterberg Plateau which promises to be another beautiful setting with the plateau rising high above the plains. It’s our last real drive on the roadtrip (the drive to the airport won’t feel the same) and we follow the local D-roads. It’s clearly a farming area, many catlle farms. We even have to stop quite a few times to open and close gates. It’s a long drive and the directions on our roadmap don’t seem reliable. We reach the end of the final gravel road we are supposed to follow, but there’s no sign to the guestfarm. This might be a good time to get the satellite phone out and call the farm for directions. As soon as we get out the car and point our satellite phone to the sky to get connection, a car pulls over and the driver asks if we’re okay. We ask him if he knows the Waterberg Guestfarm (he seems to be from around here). “Wait a minute, we will park the car and help you.” Then a second car stops: “ Are you ok??” Soon we are causing a little traffic jam on the otherwise so deserted road. This car also has local passengers and they can give us the right directions. It seems our road description indeed was wrong, but luckily we are very near.

It’s not a nice feeling being ‘lost’ on the Namibian roads, so we are relieved to see the sign to the guestfarm. We are welcomed by Helga at reception, again with a bright smile. “Hello, how are you?” “Fine, how are you?”. The guestfarm is actualy part of a real farm, owned by Harry & Sonja, whose family have owned the farm over 100 years. It’s located at a little distance of the Waterberg and so we get a nice view on the actual plateau. Behind the guestfarm are more mountains, so we feel we are right in the middle of it all anyway. Bringing the guests together is a houserule here. No seperate tables in the dining area, but a large table. “Everyone eats together,” Helga explains. “ We start at 18.30 with drinks around the campfire.” Not bad, I can live with that.

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We have a small lunch at the bar and then relax the rest of the afternoon. And we make new friends: first a small dog comes to meet us and lies at our feet. Then a giant dog joins in, I’m guessing a ridgeback. They clearly are farm dogs, used to walking around the place and hanging around the people here. Later in the afternoon, more guests arrive and we get to meet eachother around the campfire. We start a chat with an Italian couple. They’ve been living in Luxembourg for 30 years but are from Rome. Our chat is interrupted when a guy named Johan introduces himself. He works on the farm and always eats with the guest. He gives us a long explanation about the farm and his job, leaving no room for conversation. There’s a gong from the kitchen when dinner is ready and unfortunately I end up right next to him around the head of the table. He’s not very subtle. “Is that a wedding ring?” “What’s your age?” “So you’re travelling with a friend? You’re not married?” ... Desperate male alarm! As he continues to drink his red wine, he’s very close to asking my room number despite the fact that I’m not exactly encouraging him to ask these kind of questions. He has too much to drink and starts to speak in Afrikaans about his ex and how she cheated on him and all women are the same and blablabla ... By now Lesley is in a more interesting conversation with her Canadian neighbours and I desperatly look at the Italian man who sits opposite me. Johan ends up spilling his glass of red wine over the man’s shirt. At the end of dinner I gladly get up and take some distance. I joke to the Italian couple that I will put a barricade at the door tonight.

Posted by Petravs 04:37 Archived in Namibia Comments (0)

"We saw a snake!" (aaaaaargh)

Waterberg

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At breakfast there is no sign of Johan so we can have an enjoyable start of the day and chat with some other people. There are two Canadian newlyweds, a very young couple who just finished their medical studies in Montréal. Then there are Sue en Steve, they are travelling on motorbikes and live in South Africa. “I think I’ve seen you two on the road yesterday,” Sue says. And then we indeed remember two bikers passing by when we are holding up our satellite phone. I wouldn’t dare to travel the gravel roads on motor bike and it seems Sue got a bit of a trauma. They fell quite badly. This communal table really is a nice way for guests to actualy meet and talk. The Italian couple is flying home today and we wish them a nice journey.

We don’t have any major plans for the day. The hike up the mountain behind the farm should take about 2 hours. We were supposed to do a nature walk, but our travel organisation is unable to confirm or tell us where, so we let it go for now. Just as we are putting our hiking shoes on one of the guys working around the guestfarm comes to tell us we have a flat tire. All this time on the road and we end up having a flat tire parked at our last address! But we are really happy he noticed and can change the tire for us. It’s pure luck we didn’t strand on the gravel road the day before.

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The hike up the mountain isn’t too bad, just very rocky, so we watch carefully where we put our feet. The Canadian couple follows in our footsteps and then goes ahead as we enjoy a viewpoint for a while. At one point we cross them as they come back down “we saw a snake!” the girl says, she’s clearly not at ease. And going back down I see her standing terrified on the path when a baboon is near. “It’s okay, we’ve seen baboons on another walk, they stay away from people,” I try to reassure her (and I hope they don’t have any food in the backpack). Well, the mountain walk isn’t a highlight of the whole trip and we are a bit frustrated about the mix up with the travel agency (again) as Waterberg really seems to be an interesting area. But you can’t epxlore much on your own, there are mainly organised drives and walks. We find it hard to believe this really is the last day. I could definitly stay longer.

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It’s more quiet at the the campfire tonight. Not in the least because Johan is still recovering from drinking too much wine. “My battery is low tonight,” he says. Apart from the Canadian couple all the other guests are new and seem to keep a bit more to themselves. It’s definitly much more quiet at the dinner table (this time we make sure not to sit around the head of the table ☺). We talk to an American mum and daughter. The mother is in Namibia for 2 years, working as a health community volunteer in Aus. The daughter is visiting her for two weeks and they are doing a roadtrip together. As much as I loved to travel the country for the past 3 weeks, I couldn’t imagine living here for 2 years on my own in primitive conditions, in a town far away from everything (Aus is more to the south, and the woman says there really is nothing around). When we ask a bit more about the kind of work she does, she explains she mainly educates young people about HIV.

And so our last Namibian evening comes to and end ...

Posted by Petravs 04:33 Archived in Namibia Comments (0)

The big goodbye

Waterberg - Windhoek - Frankfurt - Brussels

Our flight leaves at 5.45 p.m. and the drive to Windhoek will take about 3,5 hours. So we clear the room and spend some last time in the sunshine. Helga asks us if we’ll come back to Namibia. It seems we really have to one day.

The drive to Windhoek feels long. No more gravel roads. On the way we come across some road construction works, so it’s good we calculated some extra time. “Give me some food and cold water,” a woman holding up the STOP and GO roadsign asks when we stop. We give her our water (though she was rather rude, but we don’t need it anymore and her job is simply not what you want, standing in the sun all the time).

It’s strange to drive through Windhoek again, unreal that we were here 3 weeks ago at the very start of our roadtrip. It’s another 60 km to the airport and there we fill the dieseltank one last time. At the car rental parking I manage to park our ‘bus’ quite smoothly. And so we leave behind our loyal vehicle. The man checks everything and I tell him about the flat tire. “It was just you two on the road?” he asks, like he expects two men appearing somewhere too.

There are only 3 flights departing from Windhoek this evening. As we walk up the tarmac, the sun goes down and I it really weighs heavy to leave. On top of that my eyes are itching, so tears are running down my face and it must look like I’m crying. Well, maybe I am, a little bit ...

On the plane there’s a a discussion between crew and a group of .... Russians! You won’t believe it, the same group we saw in Opuwo. One of them is drunk and has to get of the plane – it causes a 30 minute delay. But there is no mercy. They look for his luggage, take it out and we leave him behind in Windhoek. Serves him right.

And so we fly back to Europe. So many impressions, memories to cherish for a lifetime ....

Posted by Petravs 04:28 Archived in Namibia Comments (0)

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