Estrela's African Land Adventure Journal

Estrela's African Land Adventure Journal

Days 70 and 71. August 9 and 10, 2008. Etosha National Park, Namibia.

Camping at Onguma Bush Camp. (18º43.995’S 017º02.896’E). Elevation: 1072 meters (3517 feet).

Eliza was the first to become intimately acquainted with the private ablutions block, “Mom, I think I’m going to throw-up!” It was 2AM. The rest of the night was a blur for the two of us . . . by the morning, several trips to the toilet later, she had a fever, soon exacerbated by the hot African sun beating down on the tent -- baked, stuffed Eliza.

There was dappled shade beneath a thorn tree beside the tent, so we laid out a ground tarp and pillows. Abigail and Doug soon discovered the crimson-breasted boubou, a red bird even more striking than our cardinal back home, if you can believe it (Pic 1).

But the late morning gale, a typical August phenomenon we later learned, became so fierce, blowing sand, dirt, and dust, that Eliza soon became encrusted -- baked, stuffed Eliza smothered with bread crumbs.

Back to the resort pool! But now how do we sick, dirty campers camouflage ourselves at the posh safari camp pool? Luckily the camp manager welcomed us so we didn’t have to skulk around. Abigail even made a friend at the pool, a German girl named Melanie (Pic 2).

Doug plugged in the computer and worked on our journal.

By the next day Eliza was feeling much better but we decided to take the day

off and stay at Onguma – a transition day. Well, around 3:00 PM the

transition day turned into a second sick day. My turn, this time. To make things easier, I just slept by the toilet (Pic 3).

As I said, it was a small miracle to have a private ablutions block!

-- Kyle

Day 72. August 11, 2008. Etosha National Park, Namibia. Camping at Onguma Bush Camp. (18º43.995’S 017º02.896’E). Elevation: 1072 meters (3517 feet).

We woke up and leapt from the tent, excited to be off on a game-viewing day!

We got in the car. Dad drove, with me in the front passenger seat (my first time ever) and Eliza and Mom in the back. Mom still wasn’t feeling too great. We reached the Etosha National Park gate at 8:20 (Pic 1).

When we got to Namatoni Camp, we checked in and bought gas and an Etosha guidebook and map. We saw some banded mongoose beside the reception office (Pic 2).

Then we were off.

Etosha is different from Kruger because 1) it is much drier, 2) it has less variety of animals (although it does have enormous herds), and 3) it has two of my favorite species of antelope, gemsbok (oryx) (Pic 3)

and springbok (Pic 4 -- the closer of these springbok must have lost its horn in combat).

Neither of these is found in Kruger.

These two species are made for the desert. They will drink water when they have the chance, but they do not need to. They can get enough water just from their food.

The numerous impala of Kruger are very dependent on water. An impala is rarely found far away from water since it needs to drink at least once a day. Impala and springbok play similar roles in their habitats; but the impala live in lusher areas and the springbok live in drier ones. Between them they are the main lawn mowers of southern Africa's wildlife parks.

Later in the day we saw a mass of black shapes on the ground. When we looked at them through the binoculars, we saw that they were vultures (Pic 5).

It was a kill! But there were no lions in sight. Every once in a while a few vultures would jump into the air, flapping their huge wings, making way for hungry black-backed jackals who were diving into the mass to gorge themselves on the scraps of meat. Watching the kill was probably my favorite part of the day.

We left Etosha at 6:15 and drove down the long, bumpy driveway to Onguma.

We stopped to watch a big kudu bull jump over a six-foot high fence into the grassy strip between Etosha and the private game reserve we were camping in.

Then all of a sudden he jumped back over, right in front of us, and disappeared into the bushes. He jumped so fast that Mom only got a blurry picture of his disappearing rump (Pic 6).

We continued driving and then stopped again to watch the big red sun set (Pic 7),

while two jackals stretched and yawned before beginning their evening hunt (Pic 8).

-- Abigail C.

Day 73. August 12, 2008. Etosha National Park, Namibia. Camping at Etosha Safari Camp. (19º24.692’S 015º55.379’E). Elevation: 1146 meters (3760 feet).

The day started off with a bang. We were heavily loaded with all our gear, packed to move on to Etosha Safari Camp, a private camp located 15 kms outside the western gate on the other side of Etosha. Just before 8:00, minutes after we had entered the park, we came upon a cluster of open-sided safari vehicles. They had spotted an animal carcass hanging from a tree a few feet from the road (Pic 1).

A leopard kill! Obviously it was a type of buck. This was what we’d been hoping to find each morning as we'd driven slowly along Kruger's roads. Without success, we'd daily searched the branches of likely "leopard trees," big spreading trees we imagined to be just the right size and shape to make a good spot for a wary leopard to devour its nighttime kill, safe from marauding lions intent on stealing the leopard's hard-won meal. We couldn’t believe our good fortune today. If only we'd happened by before the leopard had finished eating.

I cheered up after that; yesterday was slightly disappointing in its lack of large carnivorous animals. But this half-eaten carcass, though we couldn’t figure out exactly what it had been, was sure proof that big cats actually DID exist here and we might have a chance to see one. We were right, a few hours later we watched for 15 or 20 minutes as a full-maned male lion, camouflaged by the dense underbrush, napped restlessly by a tree close to the road.

The ecosystem in Etosha is very different from that of Kruger or of the Okavango panhandle. In the latter two there are reliable water sources which the animals of that area depend upon, and which flow all year round.

But in Etosha there are very few permanent natural water sources. Animals used to migrate elsewhere in the dry season. But since fences were built around the enormous park, to define farm borders and to prevent diseases from spreading, the animals of Etosha have been trapped in an area that is unable to accommodate all their water needs. That’s why boreholes were dug to fill artificial waterholes with enough water to allow the animals to live here year-round. Luckily for us tourists, Etosha's roads pass near these waterholes, so we can watch the animals coming to drink. During the wet season (Dec-Mar) the animals are scattered throughout the park as the vast Etosha Pan, an intermittent lake, fills again, making water and food more widely available. But in the dry season, which is now, these artificial waterholes concentrate the animals, as a bright outdoor light draws clouds of insects on a summer night.

In contrast to Kruger, where we might view animals almost anywhere along the roads, Etosha seems best known for the chances it offers to observe animals at waterholes, at least during the dry season. In fact, most of the self-drive and guided tourists (virtually all in 4x4's) sprinted the rough roads from waterhole to waterhole, acting as though there was little of interest in between. Driving slowly and remaining constantly alert, as if we were back in Kruger, we had fun spotting birds of prey and some small groups of animals in unlikely places far from waterholes (Pic 2 -- a lappet-faced vulture).

We were also mesmerized by a sight rarely observed in Kruger, large herds of grazing antelope and zebra set against limitless vistas of parched, flat grassland.

Whether you’re a predator or prey, you still have to drink, and this time of year waterholes are your only option. This is why waterholes can be dramatic. Some herbivores try to limit their danger by coming to drink in large flocks or herds. Each individual animal gets more time to eat and drink because it doesn't need to lift its head as often to look around. It may relax slightly because there are many other herd members also watching, smelling, and listening.

Sometimes herbivores gain additional security by accompanying other species who have complementary senses. For instance, you often find Burchell’s zebra grazing and drinking together with blue wildebeest. While they both have good senses, the zebra have particularly good eyesight, and the wildebeest good hearing. So predators can rarely surprise a mixed herd. At Kalkheuwel waterhole we saw eight kinds of herbivores (and many types of

birds) all benefiting from each others’ warning systems, although the predators seemed far away while we were there (Pic 3 -- kudu, zebra and black-faced impala).

Even big herbivores are in danger at waterholes. Surprisingly, giraffes are some of the most vulnerable. They can’t just bend their heads to drink; ironically, their necks are too short for that! Instead they spread their front legs wide in an awkward crouch, which leaves them completely open to attack (Pic 4).

It’s no wonder that one herbivore, the springbok, has evolved to be able to avoid the waterhole risks entirely; it can get all the moisture it needs from its diet.

My favorite waterhole today was Kalkheuwel, where we parked and ate breakfast in the car, watching for nearly two hours. We visited about six other waterholes today but none of the others had Kalkheuwel's wide diversity and sheer number of animals.

The Etosha Pan is an enormous, shallow, inland lake in the wet season, after heavy rains, and a stretch of half-dried, cracked mud in the winter. It’s about 1/5 of the park’s total area. It did look huge from the Etosha Lookout spot a few kilometers into the pan. We were surrounded by bleached mud flats stretching to the horizon, the reflected afternoon sun blinding us. Abby and I felt the mud, and although it looked hard and dry, it was actually quite slick under the surface (Pic 5).

Dad tasted it and said it was a little salty. Stepping on it was a mistake, though; it stuck to our shoes and later got the floor of the car crusty white. The pan was truly gigantic; I felt like a little speck compared to it (Pic 6).

We couldn’t even see the other side. It was so hot and dry and white in the middle that we had to wear hats and sunglasses so we didn’t feel like we were going to burn our faces and eyes off. We were in a kind of parched ocean.

-- Eliza

Day 74. August 13, 2008. Etosha National Park, Namibia. Camping at Etosha Safari Camp. (19º24.692’S 015º55.379’E). Elevation: 1146 meters (3760 feet).

The Estrela safari crew has coined a new phrase, "A Kruger Morning". It doesn’t matter where we are. When Doug or I announce, “Tomorrow we’re going to have A Kruger Morning,” then everyone knows what to expect: 1) Awaken in the dark, usually around 0530. 2) Dress quickly and silently. 3) Boil water with the electric kettle to fill the thermos – the car is pre-packed with the breakfast bag at the feet of the front passenger seat and the lunch bag and cooler are at the ready in the trunk. 4) Brush teeth, toilet and go! We were thoroughly schooled through our careful observation of the many expert South Africans camping near us in Kruger National Park – hence, “A Kruger Morning."

As we drive I serve coffee, cocoa, and rusks (a South African style biscotti -- a kind of commuter-plane flight attendant maneuver. We eat cold cereal with milk and yogurt, usually in the car, while stopped at a game viewing place or a highway picnic spot, depending on our travel plans.

There are two possible variations on this routine: #1) A Kruger Morning with Camp Breakdown -- the same as above plus a silent tent-striking and car-packing, the breakfast still eaten underway. #2) A Kruger Morning with Camp Breakdown and a Quick Breakfast Before Departing -- like variation #1 but add a simple breakfast in camp. In order to ensure full stomachs AND a fast getaway under variation #2, we've adopted two rules: no brewed cowboy-style coffee (poured through a tea strainer or a nearly clean bandana), and no entertaining stories by Doug about his boyhood. Failure to enforce these rules could add hours!

This morning we had a basic "A Kruger Morning" -- the purest form; we were planning to return to Etosha Safari Camp for one more night, so had no need to break camp.

I try not to get too competitive about arriving at the game park gate before it opens, usually about dawn, but I can’t help myself. This day we maintained our excellent record, 6th car in line before the 0630 opening (Pic 1).

Once inside a game park, however, our competitive spirit usually dissipates. We are thankful that our low-riding sedan's best pace (slow! -- especially on rough roads) matches our natural viewing pace -- a symbiotic relationship.

However, for our game-viewing brethren, the other Etosha tourists, competitive urges seemed to intensify inside the park. Etosha's roads do not seem populated mainly by national park game viewing veterans from South Africa, as Kruger's are, but mostly by northern hemisphere tourists on relatively short, ambitious holidays, driving rented, white 4 x 4 Toyota Hi-Lux canopied trucks, many with roof-top tents. These SUV trucks, or "bakkies," love tough gravel roads and so do the drivers. So while we plodded along at under 30 kph, the white bakkies zoomed by, shrouding us and the adjacent bush with white dust. They raced to a waterhole, quickly snapped pictures, and then raced on to the next.

This intense, single-minded tourist behavior was really getting us down, as well as dirty. We can appreciate that these folks have limited time and that they want to get the most for the money they've spent on airfare and 4x4 rig rental. And we acknowledge how privileged we are to be able to take our time traveling. But the frequent disregarding of written and unwritten rules of the road and of courtesy has shocked us. Common infractions include driving well over the posted speed limit; failing to slow down when passing or converging, to reduce the dust cloud; hanging way out or even alighting from vehicles to take pictures; and even talking loudly at waterholes, scaring animals and disturbing other tourists. Our goal today was to avoid all this nonsense.

We decided to cover minimal ground, to stick to back roads, and to patiently enjoy waterholes, letting the waves of other tourists wash over us. It was a great day, especially for bird of prey sightings on the back roads. These gorgeous birds are notoriously difficult to identify because their plumage keeps changing through several sometimes lengthy stages of development.

They may at times resemble another species altogether. Also, a given species often has a wide range of "normal" plumage, sometimes known as different "morphs." So it is only with patience and persistence that an amateur birder identifies these creatures.

The girls have those qualities in spades. It is hardly unusual now for us to spend half an hour on one bird. Long after I’ve started to lose patience with a bird resisting easy identification, Abigail and Eliza are just getting started. They're still scouring our various reference books, checking and re-checking with the binoculars, and taking pictures and then zooming in on the digital display for a closer look. They have become such enthusiastic birders that they sometimes even make us stop to identify dull-looking small birds, affectionately named "LBJs" by one group of South Africans whom we met – Little Brown Jobs! It gets to the point sometimes where Doug, the driver, has to announce, “No more LBJ IDs, we only stop for big cats!” Here are pictures of some of the majestic birds of prey we saw today (Pic 2 - Greater Kestrel, Pic 3 - Marshall Eagle, the largest eagle in Africa, and Pic 4 - Gabar Goshawk [juvenile]).

On our way back to camp, we stopped at Newbrowni Waterhole, our last. This place captured all the beauty and uniqueness of Etosha: flat, open terrain with little vegetation; stark white, dusty soil; and many animal species, including ostrich, gemsbok, springbok, zebra, and huge Etosha elephants (10% larger than Kruger's, on average) ghostly with dried mud which they wear to block insects and prevent sunburn (Pic 5).

It has been a thrill to experience this magical place.

-- Kyle

Day 75. August 14, 2008. Etosha National Park to Outjo, Namibia. Camping at Buschfeld Park Lodge. (20º05.688’S 016º07.624’E). Elevation: 1281 meters

(4202 feet).

The Etosha Safari Camp has been a great stop. Friendly, motivated staff; an active training program; clean, well-maintained facilities; reasonable prices; and a clear commitment to the local community make this tourist outfit one of the most impressive we've encountered during our land trip, second only to the Okavango Polers Trust. Sue, one of the trainees, checked us out this morning (Pic 1).

We were back to phantom, heading south (Pic 2),

hoping to find a place to camp for a few days for laundry, a car wash and vacuum, journal writing and a mechanic. It was wonderful to be back on paved roads and to be able to drive 100 kph again after Etosha's poor roads where we could rarely go comfortably more than 30 kph.

In Outjo, an old farming community 125 kms south, we found a welcoming oasis, the Buschveld Park Lodge. Most of Namibia was a German colony in the late 19th and early 20th century and evidence of the German influence abounds. We found a spectacular German bakery in Outjo. Across the street was a clean-as-a-whistle German auto repair shop. I thought I was in luck.

But apparently this guy really was the best mechanic around and he couldn't fit us in. Uggh. But his referral to another mechanic 70 kms south in Otjiwarongo magically got me an instant appointment.

After setting Kyle and the girls up at Buschveld, I drove alone to Otjiwarongo, arriving about 3:45. Mr. Radek, the crusty, hyper-kinetic owner said he thought he could clean up and weld the broken left front steering stabilizer bracket which had failed again -- the one welded at Max Panel Beaters in Kasane, Botswana. Mr. Radek had just ordered some super welding rods from Germany and was keen to try them out. While he did the grinding and welding, with the car up on the lift I hovered over one of his mechanics as he checked belt, fluids and bolts under the hood and chassis, blew the air filter and engine surface clear of dust with compressed air, and changed the oil and oil filter. It felt great to give the car some well-needed TLC. I am so impressed by how tough and reliable this 22 year-old car has been. There must really be something to the German-engineered Mercedes mystique.

After paying Mr. Radek's modest bill I was headed north again by a little after 5:00 and returned to Bushveld just at dusk, a gorgeous drive into the setting red African sun. Kyle and the girls were full of adrenalin when I got there; they'd watched Olympics field hockey and judo on the big TV in the bar. We still had no internet connection, but we could watch the Olympics -- just like everyone back home!

-- Doug

Day 76. August 15, 2008. Outjo, Namibia. Camping at Buschfeld Park Lodge. (20º05.688’S 016º07.624’E). Elevation: 1281 meters (4202 feet).

Eliza and Mom did some hand laundry while Dad and I made coffee and Milo (the Ovaltine of the southern hemisphere) and put out the cereal. After breakfast I was helping Mom with the washing (Pic 1)

while Eliza cleaned and repacked the tools (Pic 2).

They had starting rusting, even though they were stored in a plastic box in the trunk. Dad said the big wrench got really cold at night, stayed cold during the day, and made moisture condense inside the box. This made the tools rust.

Suddenly, we heard a scream and looked at each other. Mom said, “Somebody must be playing around.” Later two men walked over to us, holding a broken plank of wood, with a two-foot, almost dead, snake hanging from the end (Pic 3).

They put the snake down and, grabbing our wildlife guide from the car, we identified it as a puff adder, a very venomous snake that causes most of the venomous snake bites in southern Africa (Pic 4 – it was really exciting to see the long fangs).

The men told us that the woman spotted the snake in the kitchen, screamed for help, and ran outside. Then the men ran in, mashed the snake’s head with the end of the plank (not quite killing it), and brought it to us to see. When they walked away, leaving the snake with us, Dad chopped its head off with our hatchet, putting the poor snake out of its misery. It had been squirming the whole time we were trying to identify it. I felt sorry for the snake because it hadn’t meant any harm (at least not that I know of).

We still had more chores to do. Dad packed the two baskets from Tsodillo Hills in boxes to mail home. For days Eliza and I had had the baskets between us in the car, so it was great to get them out of there. Then we had to clean the inside of the car. This was fun.

Mom and I borrowed a vacuum and cleaned everything: foot pedals, dashboard, steering wheel, trunk, glove box, and much more (Pic 5).

Every bit of the car was filled with dust and more dust. You couldn’t get away from it. Think how dusty an Etosha lion’s mane must be J! After “undusting” the car (ha ha ha), we had dinner sitting at the camp bar and watched the Olympics. Our favorite sport was the women’s gold medal heavy-weight judo match. It made me want to try some new moves on Dad when we wrestle in the morning.

-- Abigail C.

Day 77. August 16, 2008. Outjo, Namibia. Camping at Buschfeld Park Lodge.

(20º05.688’S 016º07.624’E). Elevation: 1281 meters (4202 feet).

I had a surreal reality check today. I like to think of myself as a relatively experienced traveler in developing countries, particularly in rural and even remote traditional villages. On many occasions I've sat on dirt floors, in my long-sleeved blouse and long skirt, paying respect to a chief or just talking with women as they weave baskets or take care of half-naked children, noses running. We've always sought to meet people on their own terms, dressing so as not to offend, listening with respect, learning even a few words of local language, and trying always to suspend judgment. Doug even started wearing a man's skirt, or sulu, in Fiji, which was appreciated by many villagers, especially elders. It's often been a little uncomfortable for us at first, and the effort exhausting, especially as a family with young children. But ultimately these experiences have been some of the most memorable of our five-year voyage.

So it's with humility and self-loathing that I report that all this changed in a small grocery store in Outjo today. There in the very narrow canned food aisle, all my savvy, non-judgmental, can-handle-anything traveler-ness shattered. For when I looked up from my struggle to make sense of another unfamiliar African store's canned tuna section, there, squeezing past me were two Himba women. My jaw dropped. These striking, nearly naked nubile women, wearing only body makeup of red-ochre and perfumed butter (except for a belted loin blanket and necklaces), strong and tall, majestic beyond all reasoning, were just chatting away in their native tongue, carrying shopping baskets filled with potato chips and soda. I nearly dropped the Light Tuna in Brine. I tried to stop staring, I really, really did. And I said to myself, "Come on, Kyle, you've seen naked ladies before -- in changing rooms at the gym or in backstage dressing rooms." But not like THESE women, and IN A GROCERY STORE...????!!!!!

At that moment I was just a dorky tourist (and my feminine self-esteem had sustained a serious body-blow). But . . . I did curse myself for foolishly leaving my camera behind. So, sorry, no photo today! But go to

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Himba and you'll see what I mean.

-- Kyle

Day 78. August 17, 2008. Outjo to Brandberg, Namibia. Camping at Brandberg White Lady Lodge. (21º01.041’S 014º41.194’E). Elevation: 455 meters (1493 feet).

I felt especially cheerful all day because I had new jeans, bought yesterday in Outjo. The tight style now isn't very practical for months of camping and hiking. My old pair had split apart, worn out along the seams. But I think we were all cheerful about leaving Buschfeld Park and moving again.

Right before we left, Abby spotted a mother cape turtle dove and her day-old chick in their nest above the laundry sinks (Pic 1).

We’d seen this dove on her nest before, and had been waiting for the baby to hatch.

From Outjo we drove west to Khorixas and then south almost to Uis. I read for most of the drive because there was nothing else to do and the desolate scenery, though beautiful, couldn’t capture my attention for hours on end (Pic 2).

As we dropped down off the plateau into Damaraland (headed for Khorixas), we began to see more villages and people and animals by the side of the road (Pic 3).

We were passing through rural Africa again, at least for a little while.

The stretch of road from Khorixas to Uis was lined with small, reed or thatch lean-to stalls selling dolls. The women managing the stalls were dressed in long, colorful dresses of thick fabric, with cloth caps twisted to points at the sides. Their dolls looked exactly like the women. Every time we passed a stand, the women and their children would hold up the dolls and plead with us with their eyes to stop and buy one. “We’ll buy some later in Swakopmund,” Mom said. Unfortunately, after Uis, we never saw those dolls, anywhere. Once again we were reminded that if you see something interesting to purchase, don’t wait. Just buy it or you will kick yourself later for the opportunity missed.

We entered an area dominated by the dramatic Brandberg, an Afrikaans name which means "Fire (brand) Mountain (berg)." At 9000 meters, it is the tallest mountain in Namibia. This region is known for its many rock paintings and Brandberg has a rich concentration of these. One Brandberg painting in particular, the “White Lady,” is very famous. It depicts a light skin-colored person with long, fair hair. What’s interesting is that it was painted, as far as experts can tell, before any Europeans had come to the area.

We checked-in at the Brandberg White Lady Lodge, arranging to pitch our tent in their remote camping area. It’s strange, but the lodge had a depressing atmosphere, though none of us could put a finger on why it felt that way.

On the other hand, there were a tame springbok and meerkat wandering freely near the two murky swimming pools outside the bar. Dad even got to pet the meerkat, but he frightened away the springbok when he plopped down next to it. The view from the lodge of the sun-reddened Brandberg Mountain was beautiful (Pic 4).

We set up camp beneath an enormous tree whose low branches hid us from the other campers. It was very cozy. Dad read Edgar Allen Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum as we crowded around the campfire after dinner.

-- Eliza

Day 79. August 18, 2008. Brandberg to Jakkalsputz, Namibia. Camping at Jakkalsputz Beach Camp. (22º11.361’S 014º18.453’E). Elevation: 0 meters (0 feet).

For some reason Abigail announced at breakfast that she thought she could pick each of us up. And she did (Pic 1).

Both girls are very keen to wrestle -- it's now Abby's favorite way to start the day -- and they've become tough fighters. Kyle will no longer go toe to toe with Eliza. They're always trying to ambush and take me down. Abby discovered the "Warriors" book series, by Erin Hunter, which relates the adventures and battles of wild cat clans. We've all been reading them. I suppose, considering the inevitable influence of these books, of all the Harry Potters, Eragon and Eldest, Brian Jacques' Redwall series, Jane Porter's "The Scottish Chiefs," and Rosemary Sutcliff's several exciting novels of Romano-Britain and of Celts battling Saxons -- all central to our family read-aloud fare over the last several years -- I shouldn't be surprised.

Were they boys, I wouldn't bat an eye at driftwood transforming into weapons. But as Eliza and Abigail also play dolls for hours on end and create elaborate fairy worlds, especially when we're on passage, I'm constantly amazed by their eager warrior play. Moreover, the weaponry they assemble from sticks -- including swords, spears and bows and arrows -- demand much more skill and sophistication than the make-believe stick machine guns my boyhood buddies and I armed ourselves with. Needless to say, I'm having a ball with my two fierce girls.

We drove very slowly away from Brandberg today, slowly not only because of our speed but also because we could see it looming behind us for hours, it so dominated the otherwise featureless landscape (Pic 2).

As we drove west southwest toward Henties Bay, on the Atlantic Coast, we soon passed the last vestige of human habitation (or even human existence) (Pic 3)

and entered the true Namib Desert, the oldest desert in the world. This is the most desolate place one can imagine (Pic 4).

I began to understand how one might feel walking on the Moon, or an asteroid. A springbok spotted where nothing but nothing could possibly be at large, especially in the midday sun, testified to this antelope's adaptation for water and heat management (Pic 5).

As we neared the coast we encountered the low cloud cover that forms most days, especially in winter and often accompanied by fog, as the cold Benguela current meets the scorched Namibian west (Pic 6).

Rare lichens and other ultimate-survivor life forms suck fog to thrive in dune sand and exist nowhere else on earth. The blinding fog also helps makes this a treacherous landfall for ship, dubbed the Skeleton Coast for the eerie stubble of shipwrecks that lines the surf-pounded beach for hundreds of miles.

It was exciting to reach the Atlantic Ocean. After stopping in Henties Bay to mail our baskets and to try (unsuccessfully) to make an internet connection, we drove 11 kms south to Jakkalsputz where we camped right on the beach (Pic 7),

as urged by Namibian friends who now live near Knysna and miss their native land terribly. This camping site is just about our friend's favorite place on earth. In the summer he would come here to camp and to cast for fish in the surf. Before overfishing took its toll, mostly by commercial boats, this was one of the most productive surf casting spots in the world. It can still be very good at times, we gather, and we hoped to watch some surf fishing the next morning.

-- Doug

Day 80. August 19, 2008. Jakkalsputz to Swakopmund, Namibia. Overnight stay in Hotel Prinzessin Rupprecht (www.prinzrupp.com.na). (22º40.931’S 014º31.456’E). Elevation: 4 meters (13 feet).

We woke to a cloudy beach morning and had a cloudy beach breakfast (Pic 1).

We ate porridge and watched fishermen surf-casting from the beach (Pic 2).

We were packing the car when all of a sudden the sun found its way through the clouds, burning away the cold.

Then we drove all the way down to the very end of the long line of yellow ablutions blocks, about a kilometer, to visit campsite #1 (Pic 3),

recommended to us by the dad of my Namibian friends living in Knysna, Zelda and Charlize. We walked down to his favorite fishing place and collected pretty stones. As we were driving back to the reception, Mom smelled something yucky. Then we saw a black mass on the beach. Was it a shipwreck? As we got close we saw that it was a carcass. Holding our noses we walked over to it. It was a dead, stranded humpback whale (Pic 4).

It was huge!! And stinky.

We drove about 60 kms north to the Cape Cross Seal Colony. When we got close to the colony, we could smell their stinky scent before we could see them. (It was a smelly day!) As we walked along the viewing walkway, watching what seemed like a normal, noisy day in the colony (Pic 5),

we could also see strewn on the beach and rocks many seal bones, skulls, blood and fur (Pic 6).

We wondered what could be killing the seals. Then we saw all the dog-like paw prints; we figured it out: jackals. Black-backed jackals, which we'd seen on the drive in (Pic 7)

and wondered how they were surviving in the empty desert, must be killing young, sick, and old seals, leaving the bones, fur and spoor we saw. The mystery was solved.

When we reached the town of Swakopmund far to the south we couldn't find anywhere to camp. But Mom and Dad found something better, a room at the very old Pension Prinzessin Rupprecht Heims Hotel, a special treat, said Mom. It used to be the German hospital. Mom loved that our "family room" was an old doctor’s office suite. I was just glad to be in a room with a real bed. Yay, no camping! We ate dinner at the Brauhaus, a noisy German restaurant. I had chicken schnitzel. It was to die for. We went to bed with our tummies full and our hearts soaring.

-- Abigail C.