Namibia: a long road home
Words & Photos–
Andy Summons
@andysummons
I think every group of mates has ‘the organised one’ — ours is called Seb. He’s a dear old friend, a passionate conversationalist and he’s just so organised. He’s the best travelled person I know and as such is prone to stunning visions of future moments that bury deep into his psyche — like celebrating his 30th by driving across the desert from Namibia to South Africa. They become important, he falls in love with them, so he follows his heart and does everything necessary to make them happen. Even if that means wrangling four useless mates — David, Tom, Nick and me — into two trucks on the other side of the world with our compass set south to Cape Town.
The trucks were an engineering triumph. Huge Ford Rangers modified to prevail on the hostile desert highways. Expanded fuel tanks, kitchen in the boot, solar panels to charge both batteries, two tents on the roof, and good company inside — they were oases on wheels. A few songs after we crossed Windhoek city limits, with Tom at the wheel of one car and Seb at the helm of the other, we got our first taste of the ten days ahead — sand, wind, a fence, a power line, and some strange animals now and then.
Dodging lions in Spitzkoppe
We set up our first campsite in the brooding shadows of Spitzkoppe — a giant rock formation jutting up from the flat red desert surrounded by sporadic piles of enormous boulders and rock hills. We arrived at the empty campsite just before sunset with just enough time to fish the camp chairs out of the trucks, crack some beers, and watch the sinking sun turn the red desert orange, pink, purple then black. It was a special moment — we’d done it. We made it to Africa, fled the city and we were camping in lion country. And all it took was a couple of flights, two trucks, five friends, and seven years off Seb’s life in stress.
I thought we’d feel more exposed camping in the Namibian desert, even with the camping restrictions. You have to camp in designated areas, probably to avoid feeding the lions too often. But sleeping on top of the trucks provided some psychological protection. Like even if a lion managed to get so lost it wandered into the Spitzkoppe campground, talk its way past the boom gate guard, it couldn’t possibly reach us because we were on top of the truck. And lions are famously terrible climbers and their one true weakness is 3mm of canvas fastened with a zip.
The would be baby-faced assassin
Our next stop was Swakopmund on our way to Skeleton Bay and a golden ghost town. The Swakopmund light aircraft airport felt like a well-trampled beach cricket pitch. It was pretty flat, very sandy and totally unnerving. Our pilot seemed too young and our plane too old, but we’d already bought our tickets, so we had to take the ride. It was a lot of fun watching three 6-foot-plus men fold their spidery limbs into the cabin ... until it was my turn. The single propeller on the nose of the plane kicked into life and killed the conversation. As we putt-putted across the runway in preparation to take off, dad’s advice about light aircraft popped into my head. ‘Don’t fly in light aircraft,’ he said, ‘but if you do, make sure it has at least two propellers.’ Oh no. Oh well. The plane reluctantly took to the air and we were almost immediately out of Swakopmund and into the Namib desert.
The landscape rolling out below us bled from red dunes into hard grey and black moonscape valleys, into flat dusty brown desert plains before we reached the coast where the stark desert soared up into sand dunes to meet the South Atlantic Ocean. Halfway through the flight, while we stared out the windows lost in the depths of our private meditations, our stomachs lurched in unison.
The plane lurched up and to the right so our innards did the exact opposite and tested the limitations of our seals. Panicked, we looked at each other for a blink then stared out the front window — nothing but sky. I looked to my right and saw a huge flock of white birds below and behind us. ‘Just thought I’d wake you up. You guys looked like you were getting a bit sleepy,’ the pilot laughed and lied. The shadow of death still lingered in David’s wide eyes. ‘That wasn’t deliberate,’ he said with absolute certainty, ‘we almost died.’ I nodded. He was right, but it was a lovely view.
