The land of miracle & wonder

Namibia is a country that you can return to again and again, and each time you’ll discover something different. Like a tree trunk, every Namibian holiday leaves a growth ring of rich experiences behind; memories of miracle and wonder that will put a smile

An aurora seems to be swirling in the sky above Noordoewer, even if it’s just the sunrise adding lashings of pink champagne to the low clouds. When a rainbow dances into the scene, phones come out for photos. The show ends as suddenly as it began and we get our passports stamped. I’m at the border with seasoned tour guide Rey Janse van Rensburg. We set off from his home town of Springbok earlier today – a small convoy of vehicles destined for the Kaokoveld in Namibia’s north-western corner. For the next 15 days I’ll ride shotgun in Rey’s trusty Land Cruiser. For two of those days, it will be pedal to the metal: We’ll keep to the main tar roads to get to the Kunene River as quickly as possible. After that, we’ll slow down and take our time through the Kaokoveld, driving home via Swakopmund (for eisbein) and pausing for two days at Sossusvlei before returning to Springbok. Some members of the group will join us later today in Windhoek; the final few vehicles will meet us in Ruacana. At that stage we’ll be eight vehicles and 20 people in total. The heavily loaded Cruiser – towing a trailer – slowly gathers momentum up the long hill that takes you out of the Orange River valley towards Grünau. “We’ve climbed 400 metres already,” Rey says, glancing at his GPS. The landscape here is normally bare except for the odd boulder left behind by a glacier a gazillion years ago, but now it’s covered in a sea of yellow grass. The jagged Amib Mountains rise to the west. Beyond those mountains is the Fish River Canyon, buried out of sight. I’ve been to this part of Namibia before, but I still marvel at the landscape. Every visit yields a new wonder. That Sossus dune I saw a decade ago? Maybe it’s moved a metre or 10. Brandberg? I know it will welcome me back with open arms. Past Grünau to Keetmanshoop, into a headwind. In Keetmans we fill up and I bump into a cousin who lives in Grootfontein. The landscape is one thing, but without people, a Namibian holiday just isn’t complete. Namibians are friendly and helpful and the further into the bundu you go, the more genuine they seem to become. Your travel companions are also integral to holiday success. They’re here to share the wonder with you; fellow fans of the veld. Some South Africans experienced Namibia during military service; others might remember a yellowed photograph in Grandma’s photo album – an elephant drinking forever at a dusty Etosha waterhole. Or your memories are more recent: During the past two decades, Namibia has become an affordable holiday destination for South Africans, camp-friendly, with good roads. Is it your first time in Namibia? I try to remember what that felt like. For me, it was like discovering relatives I never knew I had. Nice ones.

Cruising north

“Cold dawn must find me in the Kaiserstrasse with my sleeping bag and rough desert clothes and five hundred cigarettes.” That’s Lawrence Green in his 1952 classic Lords of the Last Frontier, in which he describes an expedition to the Kaokoveld. It’s easier to get there now (and you don’t need to buy all your cigarettes in Windhoek), yet the Kaokoveld remains one of Namibia’s toughest nuts to crack. I’ve been to the tamer parts of the region before – Sesfontein, Opuwo and Epupa. But west of those settlements is where the fun starts. You need a 4x4, a GPS and enough drinking water. We spend our first night at Monteiro Camp outside Windhoek, then we push further north, stopping only to fill up with fuel or biltong. (Our convoy pretty much empties out Piet’s Biltong Shop in Okahandja.) I buy a tree book in Outjo, keen to identify all the beautiful trees we drive past. It’s May but the veld is still green from late summer rains. Yesterday Rey’s Land Cruiser clocked 950 km; today 850 km. He keeps going like a Boeing. He’s done this before, too. We arrive in Ruacana a minute before sunset. We turn west into the Kunene River valley and find Omunjandi campsite in the dark, where we pitch our tents under giant leadwood and jackal-berry trees. A fire is built, food is made. We’re here now. The adventure can begin. We’ll stick to the banks of the Kunene for the next four nights: Tomorrow we’ll camp wild in the company of Ovahimba herders and their flocks, then we’ll head to the comforts of Epupa Falls Lodge & Camp, where we’ll fall asleep to the low roar of the falls and the silhouettes of makalani palms against a starry sky.

Slowly but surely, I start to make sense of the trees: Kaoko shepherd’s tree (at the Dorsland Trekker Memorial on the hill overlooking

Swartbooisdrift), trumpet thorn (grey leaves, ubiquitous), bushman’s poison (currently in full pink flower), phantom tree (stout of trunk), the first few baobabs… I also begin to learn where to expect certain species: a tree euphorbia up on a rocky ridgeline; a tangle of mustard bush on the riverbank. At Epupa Falls Lodge & Camp I meet a young man called Kamburu Tjiharo, who happens to be sitting with a tree book open on his lap as I stroll onto the bar deck. Before I’ve even put down a small branch sample in front of him, he knows what it is: African star-chestnut. I love learning about the natural world when I travel. With every new tree I can identify, the landscape takes firmer shape. It’s not just “bush” any more, it’s purple-stem corkwood or satin-bark corkwood. Kamburu tells me that the satin-bark corkwood is the tree with yellow autumn leaves that I can see on the slopes on the Angolan side of the Kunene. When the sun dips behind the mountains, casting welcome shade, I stroll downstream to photograph Epupa’s many waterfalls. Speckled pigeons effortlessly alight on rocky outcrops in the middle of the river, and on islands where baobabs have muscled themselves into the torrent. A few other tourists are scattered on the rocks along the viewing path. Victoria Falls might be bigger and louder, but Epupa wins for subtlety and variety. There are no hordes or exorbitant admission fees. It’s free to stroll along this path, or R50 a head to visit the viewpoint higher up on the koppie.

No country for nonsense

If you’re looking for adventure, you’ll find it on Van Zyl’s Pass. Ask any 4x4 enthusiast: If you want to earn your stripes, this half road, half rock face is where you do it. I’ve never been over the pass. We turn off the C43 at Okangwati and I’m on new ground. It’s exciting: Every rise and every bend reveals a new scene. Our convoy pauses in Okangwati for some last-minute shopping. I don’t need Lawrence Green’s 500 cigarettes, but some beer will do, so I get two tall Tafels. We turn onto the D3703 and drive west. You’ll find the D3703 on any good map of Namibia, but don’t be deceived by the dotted line: It’s a bakkie road that soon disappears in the mopane veld like a wispy brown snake. We stop at some bottle trees at a hot water spring, where someone is doing laundry.