City Life

Happy to be lacking a destination for the day, I woke up at my hostel, Villa Weise, ready to have a semi-relaxing day. After walking down to the lounge for the hostel's complimentary cooked breakfast, I sat down at a table with what turned out to be two Americans. They were a middle aged couple from the Berkley area and were on a safari tour that would eventually take them to Victoria Falls. They were quite nice, and it was fun to hear them talk about their experiences on the tour so far, which is otherwise made up of Germans. The breakfast itself was quite delicious as well- bacon, eggs and toast. I enjoyed the conversation with the Americans, whose names I think were Joe and Janice, and got ready for my day.

The main objective for the day was to drive the Welwitschia Route, which is a 100km or so road that cuts through the Namib desert national park. Along the way the rangers have put

markers that display certain attributes of the park. I bought my permit to do the drive in town and then drove out to the sandy surrounds of Swakopmond and, after second- and third-guessing myself, found the beginning of the road. The first marker was a disappointment, as it was intended to show the Lichen population that manages to survive in the desolate area, but instead there was only a tersely-worded plaque that informed the reader that previous tourists had been to disruptive and killed all the lichens. It offered a ray of hope, however, by hinting that lichens were, in fact, alive all around the route and a tourist would just have to find them on their own.

Next up was the "Moon Landscape," which was amazing. What they mean by the title is that a certain valley that cuts through the desert has been shaped by erosion in such a way that its jagged mountainous points resemble the moon's surface. I was sceptical at first, given the name, but found the sight to be quite remarkable. I'll let you see for yourself:

While serenely viewing the spectacle with my camera and binoculars, a tourist troupe of Frenchmen got out noisily, with their tour guide loudly explaining the moon scape. I thought it was funny when the French teenager pulled out a baseball cap that had "USA" emblazoned on its front, contrary to what stereotyping would have me believe.

There was further driving on the bumpy dirt road to do, and I broke it up by having a staple lunch of PB&H sandwiches in a dry riverbed. Along the way there were remains from a 1914 encampment made by South African soldiers and a hill with a lava rock streak in its middle. However, the grand finale was the arrival of the road's namesake- the Welwitschia plant.

The Welwitschia plant, though seeming to be a near-dead remnant of a firmer original, is actually supposed to look like it does. It survives off of the scarce amount of water found in its ecosystem and has only two leaves that grow and split, making it seem like more. Also, they have cones, which I thought to be the cherry on top of a hilariously awkward plant. I guess they deserve accolades for their amazing survivability.

Rendered nearly speechless by the stunning beauty found on the road, I made my way back to Swakopmund after 4 hours of exploration. Next up was a long walk around the town as it was drenched in sunlight. It's a beach side place, so I enjoyed strolling down its shores and watching people put their boats in the water or try to body surf on the crashing waves. Spending more time with it, I came to the conclusion that the town really is beautiful, and I don't blame the countless Germans who vacation there. There's a relaxed atmosphere, a lack of crowds, a nice beach, lots of art, and little crime.

On my walk I also passed by a rather large crafts market, but resisted the temptation to buy anything, since it all seemed like it could have been made in China, for all I knew. I'm hoping my patience will pay off in the form of a handmade local market sometime before arriving back in Cape Town.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent updating my stateside readers on the blog and getting some supplementary provisions- water and bread. After resting a bit back at the hostel, I had a nice chat with the Americans I had met earlier in the day at the bar and then headed once again to the Western Saloon pizzeria- its charms had lulled me in once again and it didn't disappoint. Not having any plans for the evening, I decided to get a taste of home and went to the tiny local movie theater, where I watched the Julia Roberts-starring Duplicity. Though slightly out of focus and not Oscar material, it was fun to get in touch with the sights and sound of the US- especially NYC. Filled to the brim with Americanness, I retired to the hostel for the night.

I awoke the next morning to the sounds of a violently windy dust storm that had cropped up overnight. What faced me as I opened the door to go to breakfast was dust everywhere. I had seen dust storms back in Arizona, but this was completely different. Grains of sand were buzzing around violently and visibility was almost nonexistent. The streets already had a fine layer of sand and everything and everyone was pummeled.

Quickly eating my breakfast next to one of the large safari tour operators, I hastily packed my things in to the trunk (forgetting my shampoo), and headed East, towards Windhoek. For the first 45 minutes, visibility was dismal as the dust storm continued, but it quickly eased and I could drive at a normal pace, despite the still-roaring wind. It was a straightforward (read: boring) drive, and I entertained myself with Catch 22. The paved roads made it easier to go from A to B without too much effort on my part, and after two fill-ups and a stop by the road to have lunch, I was entering Namibia's capitol.

Windhoek is a unique city- it's not at all cramped, set amongst a bunch of low hills, and is home to houses that show off vibrant colors ranging from pink to neon green. Arriving on a Saturday, traffic was not bad at all and after seeing some of the city by car I found the Chameleon Hostel, where I was to stay. It's a pretty cool hostel, with a large pool-laden courtyard where a bunch of people were lounging and reading, a well stocked bar, professional reception, and modern rooms. Being that it was the first backpackers hostel I had been to in Africa, I appreciated the familiar vibe from last year. I unloaded the car after finagling my way into a parking spot and soon was headed out the door, where this sign greeted me:

I took its advice and continued onwards into the city center. There's not much to see in Windhoek, and after a half hour walk I felt like I had a sense of the city. The funniest part of it is the street names- I walked on Fidel Castro street as well as Robert Mugabe avenue, which ironically is where the statehouse lies.

Further down Robert Mugabe avenue I found the main landmark of Windhoek- Kristkurke- or Christ Church. It's a large beautiful church surrounded by lush public gardens. I took my pictures and, passing another crafts market, made my way back to the hostel, where I met Ben, another lone American at the hostel. As it turns out, he had just arrived for a 5 month unpaid internship with the World Wildlife Fund in Windhoek. Originally from Philly and currently a grad student as UC Santa Barbara, he had a bunch of stories about his trips in Ghana and Spain as well as what sort of things he is learning in his nonprofit management graduate classes. I felt sorry for him, though, when I found out that he's on his own for finding an apartment to rent- that's definitely an unsavory chore.

I relaxed in the courtyard and read some more Karamzov, which I am continuing to trudge through. I'm 250/700 pages in and nothing has happened in the plot whatsoever. Thankfully I was saved from my boredom by the hostel's internet cafe, where I updated the blog again. By then it was getting dark and I ended up spending the evening chatting with Ben at the bar and meeting more hostel guests like Lyndsay, who is an English university student working as a vet on a game farm. She was in town because she was looking after their 28 year old cheetah, who had fallen ill. Apparently on the game reserve she frequently sleeps amongst the baby lions and plays with cheetahs- not too bad, I should think. I enjoyed a delivered pizza and soon felt tired enough to retire, which I did, and read some more Karamazov in another heroic attempt to get through a handful of pages. Soon, though, it had its effect on me and fell asleep, knowing that the morning sun would bring another cross-border adventure.