The Kalahari Desert

The Kalahari Desert is a large arid to semi-arid sandy area in southern Africa extending 900,000 km², covering much of Botswana and parts of Namibia and South Africa, as semi-desert, with huge tracts of excellent grazing after good rains. The surrounding Kalahari Basin covers over 2.5 million km² extending farther into Botswana, Namibia and South Africa, and encroaching into parts of Angola, Zambia and Zimbabwe. The only permanent river, the Okavango, flows into a delta in the northwest, forming marshes that are rich in wildlife. Ancient dry riverbeds—called omuramba—traverse the Central Northern reaches of the Kalahari and provide standing pools of water during the rainy season. Previously havens for wild animals from elephant to giraffe, and for predators such as lion and cheetah, the riverbeds are now mostly grazing spots, though leopard or cheetah can still be found.

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Merry Christmas

It was Christmas morning and we had to leave at 5:00 am. What a horrid time to have to be up and moving about. We drove to the Namib-Haukluft National Park to Dune 45. The Namib dune fields stretch from the Gariep (Orange) River to the Kuiseb River known as Dune Sea. Dunes are composed of quartz sand with hues from cream to orange to red to violet. Unlike the Kalahari dunes, these are dynamic, shifted by the winds into distinctive shapes. Dune 45 is the most accessible of the red dunes rising to 150 meters. The whole sand sea is 300 kilometers long and 150 kilometers wide.

Bruce warned us to remove our shoes before climbing to keep sand from filling them and dragging us down. However, we were warned to keep our socks on as the sand can get so hot, it will burn your feet. We were told to climb up the ridge to the top if we chose to. Walking in sand is difficult at best, but at a 90 degree angle, it is arduous to say the least.

Notwithstanding, Ron worked his way to the top. This was my intention too, but multiple factors kept me at half mast. My leg was still bothering me and getting progressively worse day by day, smoker’s lungs are not conditioned for heavy exertion, but what really dissolved my determination to succeed was my fear of heights. As you climb the ridge, it is like walking a tightrope with nothing but space and air between you and way down. My vertigo was the killer of ambitions and I had to let go ¾ of the way up to the top and return to the truck. There were others who only made it as far as I, so we commiserated.

It may seem unusual to think of sand as incredibly beautiful, but these dunes had such grace and purity that they deserved all of the attention they received. The pristine nature was and sleek lines were breathtakingly attractive.

We broke our fast at the truck, a boxed up style supplied by the accommodation we had left. It felt like late afternoon, but it was barely half past morning. We drove for a long time, time becoming blurred with so much of it on the truck.

We met our local guide Boseman, a white Namibian, who for 120 Rand each did a desert walk with us. This was an optional adventure, but all joined in. Boseman, not all that tall, walks as fast as a cheetah runs and it was difficult keeping up with him. Boseman was an academic professional who studied the desert life as a hobby, later turning it into a full time profession. His knowledge was extensive. He explained how the dunes formed and how you could tell the seasons and directions from the shifts in the dune. The dunes either shift to one side or the other depending on whether the winds are coming from the mountains or the ocean.

He showed us scorpion tracks, mice, and beetle larvae as well as beetles themselves. He explained how the animals live under the sand only coming out at night when it is cooler. He showed us how to catch a lizard by scooping it out of the sand and plants that can die completely, but retain their seeds for the first rain. They then burst open and release their seeds to the ground. Within three days, new plants are growing. Africans used to believe that the sky rained seeds. He explained the life of the Bushman who were continuously nomadic. They left the elderly and even children behind who could not keep up in order to keep the community alive. Bushmen used poisonous darts with a ten meter range. They killed many whites from fear. It was legal to hunt and kill Bushmen until 1919 and then until 1929 with a hunting license. There are no longer any Bushmen due to this heinous act.

Boseman explained that one should never climb a dune on the ridge. Where was he earlier when we needed this information on Dune 45? He said if you watch an animal, they never climb the ridge, but zigzag along the side.

After having us climb yet another dune, he took us to the edge. Again, being so far up, made me dizzy. Boseman explained how soft the sand was and how safe it was to fall down, regardless of how high up one was. He shared that we could slide, roll, or walk down without any danger at all. The only problem was the sand may discolor our clothes and it may not come out in the wash. With this knowledge, I felt powerful enough to leap down the side of the dune at a 90 degree angle with giant steps, feeling the fear, but pleasuring in the sensation. I really wanted to regress to boyhood and roll down, but my mother’s voice whispered in my ear about staining my clothes, so I refrained. This was a highlight for me and if I had know earlier, I would have felt more confident with Dune 45.

On the way back to our truck, Anna, Rikard, and Klas sat on the front of Boseman’s 4x4 while the rest of us were herded like cattle in the back. It takes a special type of vehicle to drive in this sand. The ride was like a tumultuous roller coaster and we were jarred around praying the truck would not flip over.

When we returned to the Six Pack, we drove to another part of the park for lunch. There was supposed to be a swimming pool there, but when we arrived, they were draining the pool. Bruce created a delicious pasta salad, then after we ate it was back on the truck for our lodge once again.

Ron gave out Hungarian Christmas candy we brought with us and and explained the significance in Hungary. They seem to have been enjoyed and appreciated by all.

Before returning to the lodge, we went to another gorge at Sesriem Canyon. The sunblock was bleeding into my eyes and I asked Ron for a tissue. He went back to the truck to get it from his bag, but in the meanwhile, we were separated from the group, who were descending into the gorge. I had tried to follow to keep track of the direction they were going, but Ron did not immediately follow. At one point, the way forked and I waited for Ron to catch up so he would not take the wrong turn. When he did not show, I went back to find him still at the top at the truck taking pictures. By this time, it was too late to try to find the group’s direction and I too stayed at the top and watched them from above.

Back at the lodge, I was ready for a swim, a shower, and a nap in that order. Later, we congregated outside on the lawn for a drink and socialization until dinner. Bruce prepared pork chops with sausage, potatoes, and mixed vegetables. It is astonishing what he can create on a couple of propane burners. He also made a special dessert with chocolate and bananas. All in all, it was a great Christmas, though with 30 degrees Celsius temperatures, it did not feel like Christmas.

At the lodge, I bought a Hammerstein Namibia t-shirt to remind myself of this beautiful lodge and lovely Christmas with great people. Within an hour of wearing it the embroidery started to unravel. Santa, help me!

Tomorrow, we leave at 8:00 am for Walvis Bay via the arid Namib-Naukbift route on our way to the seaside town of Swakopmund.

Today was only 200 km bringing us to 1990 km.

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Kookerboom Forest

Today was an early wakeup day for everyone at 6:00 am. We have communal showers here, men on one side and women on the other. I showered last night, though the only people I would have had to share with would be Ron and Hans, but I avoided the rush. I appreciate my private time with a hot shower. We need to be on the road by 7:00.

After traveling through the Kalahari, our first stop is the Kokerboom forest of strange trees, called the quiver trees ( http://www.encounter.co.za/article/88.html). The bushmen would cut through their hard bark and use the spongy inside for quivers for their arrows. For the trees to survive, they have to grow tall enough that animals cannot eat their leaves. If their leaves are eaten, the tree dies. Contradictorily, the tree is very slow growing, so it is almost impossible for the trees to survive, but some do. The trees we are walking amongst are 150 to 200 years old. It took us four hours to reach this forest, but it was pretty amazing.

Within this forest, there was one bush that was delectable to butterflies. It was loaded with them, making the bush look like a Christmas tree with twinkle lights on it as the butterflies flapped their wings open and closed. They were white with a black streak on each wing. Interspersed were a couple of orange ones, but different from Monarch butterflies.

John and Bruce found a slow leak on yet another tire and they tried getting the other spare off to replace it. We all stood by the bathrooms in the Quiver tree forest in the shade while they slaved away, but to no avail. The spare was rusted on and would not budge with all of their yanking, pulling, and banging. They even tried pouring a can of Coca-Cola on it since rumors have always said it will remove rust. It did not in our allotted time period, so either we are too impatient or it is indeed a myth.

When the consensus was that the tire was not going to get fixed at this afternoon stop, we drove the next three hours at a slower speed, finally causing the tire to actually go flat. We pulled up to the side of the road and Bruce put up an overhang on the side of the truck giving some shade and he fixed lunch. When life gives you lemons, make lunch with them. We ate, the crew worked on the truck’s tire yet again. Regardless of their stamina, patience and ideas, the tire was not about to be removed after their constant struggles for an hour’s time.

While this was happening, Doris started to develop some reactions to the Malaria medications and needed some medical attention. Bruce told us we would have to make a diversion to get her medical care, but none of us care about that, we were more concerned about Doris. We were forced to drive with one bad tire, but it sounded like John was having a difficult time getting the truck into first gear. We thought it would be about an hour to get to a clinic, but it was more like two with our impeded mobility due to the tire. We finally pulled up to a Wimpy’s service center, where we were dropped off. Bruce called the hospital and arranged a ride for Doris. While we were snacking and relaxing in air conditioning, the garage was able to fix the tire and Doris was driven back to meet us. It is now close to 5:00 and the overcast sky that we have had all day is getting darker, threatening an impending storm is nearby. There was a photo on the wall of Wimpy’s that showed the flood they had one year ago. Half of Wimpy’s was under water. We are supposedly only 20 km from our resting place for this evening.

An hour and a half later, we were on the road again; we stopped in a small Namibian town with a Spar supermarket. This really surprised me that here in Africa, in this small village of 2,000 people, they would have a Spar with scanners at the check outs like in Budapest and other European cities. What was even more shocking was to see a restaurant with “Belaton Hungarian Take Away Food”.

Our schedule has gone askew from the itinerary a bit due to the different circumstances that had not been planned for. We are at our accommodation near the dam, where we are again four to a cottage and we are sharing with Jean and Omo. We work well together and this is a good arrangement, hopefully for all of us, if we have to share at all. This cottage is really basic, though it has two bedrooms and each has two beds, the kitchen has no supplies at all. The bathroom is without toilet paper and none of us have any, so we had to yell for Bruce to come to our rescue. We seemed to be the unlucky ones; all the other cabins are supplied with it.

Dinner was at Bruce’s cabin, where we sat around and talked for some time after dinner. When we walked back to our cabin, it was black out. It was difficult to see each other walking side by side. We had forgotten our flashlights in the suitcases, like forgetting an umbrella when rain is predicted. We minced our way back, taking small steps, not to trip and fall. As we were approaching our cabin, we heard rustling sounds followed by clomping. Our hearts beat faster, and Ron yelled “Hello”, but nothing responded back. The sounds continued and we forced our steps faster and faster to our door. As we put the key in the lock and were about to turn it, we heard “Have a good night” from the security guard who was walking by.

Today’s mileage was 450 km totaling 1440 km thus far.

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