The bus pulled into Windhoek, and I checked to see if any couchsurfers had agreed to host me. No luck. So I just went to a hostel that I had previously looked up.

I walked around a bit and took some pictures before joining forces with a local from Windhoek, and we went out partying a couple of nights, which left me rather exhausted.

Windhoek has a kind of European feel to it (more so than the other cities I had visited so far), and there were actually some things to see in the city.

I went to the National Independence Museum, but I unfortunately didn’t find it that great.

There were a lot of pictures and titles to collections of pictures, but there weren’t really any explanations to what I was looking at. As an example, a lot of photo captions said something along the lines of “Two SWAPO leaders discuss strategy,” or something like that. But… who is SWAPO? I dunno, and the exhibits didn’t explain it. I found out later that SWAPO was and is a major political party in Namibia, but I didn’t know that at the time.

It then rained a lot for the next couple of days, so I didn’t do too much. Since there was Wi-Fi, I backed up a lot of photos and worked on my blog a bit, but the Wi-Fi was slow, so it still took forever to get anything done.

I wasn’t really sure what to do about going to places. I really wanted to see Namibia, but the country is very spread out, and there isn’t really any public transportation unless you’re going between major population centers (of which, there aren’t many). It was kind of frustrating because you really did need a car. You can go with tour companies, but they are expensive. I would have really liked to have been able to rent a car and ask around to see if anyone wanted to join me, but since my wallet with my driver’s license had been stolen in Nairobi, I was at the mercy of trying to find other people via Facebook groups. I would like to come back to Namibia with some friends some day and rent our own car.

I perused the Facebook groups for travelers in Namibia and was trying to find some other people who would rent a car so that I could join. I did find another couple, but they weren’t going to get to Namibia for another week or so.

Since I had some time to burn before they arrived, I decided to take a shuttle to Swakopmund. There I did have a couchsurfer, but it may have been better had I just gone to a hostel.

He initially offered me a place to stay for a couple of nights, but he was also very upfront about the fact that I could (should) book a sandboarding trip with him since he has a sandboarding tour company. I have received quite a few offers like that from people who have safari companies and would like you to book a safari, and I usually ignore them since that’s not really what couchsurfing is supposed to be about. But, since I actually was interested in sandboarding, I decided to take him up on the offer.

The first night, we walked around a bit, and he didn’t seem too bad. He did have to stop for every third lady that walked by so he could try to get their number, which was kind of obnoxious. He then took me to a bar, and we are standing at the counter about to order a beer. That’s when he turned to me and mumbled that he is in a really tight spot financially at the moment, so if I could buy the beers…

I didn’t mind buying him a beer or two since he was hosting me, but the sleaziness about having him ask me that right at the bar counter was just annoying. I rolled my eyes when he couldn’t see and bought a couple of rounds throughout the night. I feel that one should make that clear beforehand, or just, ya know, not go out to the bar if you don’t have money. I did notice that he somehow managed to buy another couple of ladies beers later that night, but whatever. Otherwise, the first night went all right enough.

I woke up the next morning, and it was sandboarding time! The sandboarding itself went fine, and I had a blast.

Afterward, it was time to pay. The sandboarding cost N$600, which was about 40 USD. That’s not an insignificant amount for that area. Keep in mind that one (very large 750ml) beer was N$19 or so, which is just over a dollar. In the townships (which some would hearken to a ghetto), they also don’t pay rent or mortgage since the land was “graciously” given to them a long time ago by the government.

After the sandboarding, he said he would show me around the city a bit. But first, he had just a couple of quick errands to do. The first stop was to get something sorted with his driver’s license. He says it will be just a minute. At least 2 hours later, he is finally finished and we can proceed. I had just read a bit on my phone in that time. We started walking through the city. Cool, looks like I can see some stuff. Oh, he needs to go into the bank. There is a huge line, and at least this time I was made aware that it was going to be about 2 hours or so. I was hungry, so I decided to go and get some food while he did that. Other than the restaurant, though, I didn’t see much. By that time, it was getting late, and we started walking back home. What an amazing tour! I also don’t expect my hosts to be my personal tour guides, but if he was going to spend about 5 hours doing a couple of chores, I would have much rather just been given free rein to walk around by myself instead of being dragged around by him. Of course, I could have left at any time to do exactly that, but it would have felt incredibly rude from my side, so I just dealt with it.

We went back out to the bars in the evening because that’s what he’s all about. We are drinking, and I am really tired and just don’t feel like drinking anymore. We eventually end up walking home, but then he realized that he forgot some important papers at the bar, so he needed to go back to get them. He hails a cab, and I stupidly get back in thinking I would get dropped off at the house. Nope. We arrive at the bar. I drink one more beer before heading out and just catching a cab home after getting the key from him. I was just getting kind of annoyed with him at that point and wanted to go to bed. I brushed my teeth, laid in bed, and drifted off to sleep. Only to be woken up at 3:30 am. The previous night, he had slept next door in his parent’s house, but I guess he lost the key or couldn’t get in for whatever reason. So I wake up to him banging on my door at 3:30. I let him in, and he lays on the bed with me, which I didn’t mind since it was a big bed. What I did mind was that he only had one blanket and ended up taking it, leaving me shivering all night in the chilly desert air.

I woke up the next morning after a restless sleep and realized that he is still sleeping, despite him saying that he had to work because he had some more sandboarding clients. I woke him up, and he said he’ll be back in like an hour or so before going back to work.

I decided I was done with him. He originally only offered me 2 nights anyways, and that was up. He said we could talk about me staying longer, but we never did talk about it, and I didn’t feel like pressing the issue. While waiting for him to come back so I could give him the key back, I booked a night at a B&B and just sat around until he came back so I could leave him the key.

He came back and then proceeded to ask me if I can lend him 150 bucks. I was kind of shocked that he would make such a request. He explained that it was because he needed to provide a small lunch as part of the package deal (which he didn’t do for me…) and that he had to buy something first. I asked him what happened to the 600 from yesterday, and he kind of just deflected and was asking me to help a brother out and stuff like that. When I said that I didn’t have much on me, he said he would pay me back after the tour. When I said that I was going to a hostel for the night, he said I could stay there again. I said it was too late and I had already booked it. So then he says I must have the money for that, and I can give it to him, and he’ll give it back after he’s done with the tour. I said I wanted to go now so I could work on the Wi-Fi there. He said I could go to his brother’s house and use the Wi-Fi there, and he’d pay me back once he got back. I eventually just told him that I wasn’t going to give him any more money when I gave him 600 just the day before. His response was that I didn’t give him 600; it was a payment for the sandboarding. I honestly had to process that for a couple of seconds because I was so dumbfounded. It doesn’t matter if I paid for something or “gave” it to him. What’s important was that I handed over 6oo bucks from my hand to his less than 24 hours prior, and now he was badgering me for money. This went on with me giving a new excuse and him coming up with a counter for a couple of minutes until I think it finally started to sink in that I wasn’t going to give him 150, at which point he said, “so that’s the way it’s gonna be, huh?” Um, yep! He then asked me for at least 20, just to buy a coke, even though he still had some in the room. I told him that if he was thirsty, I had some water he could drink, but he said he just really wanted a coke, ignoring any counters to his thought process.

I finally started making my way out of the house, and we got a ride in his friend’s car who he was going to pick up the clients with. He was asking his friend and stuff for 150 at that point, so maybe he really did run out of money, but I just can’t fathom how. With beers being only 19 for 750ml, one must be really bad with money to blow through that much. He was talking about wanting “to smash some chicks” the entire time, so I wonder if that’s where all the money went? No idea…

In any case, we got to an intersection that was kind of close to my destination, and I got out there, as I didn’t want him knowing where I actually went. They drove off, and I was super relieved to no longer be around him to hear him badgering me for money.

I’ve had other unfavorable couchsurfing experiences in Africa, like worrying about my laptop being stolen because there were way too many people coming and going in a place that they never seemed to lock, being told my mother’s death was my fault (I think the fact that I wasn’t Christian played into that accusation), and being badgered into giving a positive reference before the trip was over, but this guy just took the cake. I didn’t want to write about my few poor couchsurfing experiences in Africa because it would seem ungrateful to talk ill of people who are giving me a free place to stay, but this guy was just too much, haha.

Rant aside, the place I stayed had lightning-fast internet, so I used the opportunity to back up a bunch of photos from my journey, just in case something happens to my phone and/or laptop. I also quite enjoyed the solitude of my own place without anyone else around.

The next morning, I figured I would try my hand at hitchhiking back to Windhoek. As I was walking out of the city past a bunch of unofficial taxis, I was offered a ride for 170. I passed and someone ended up offering me a ride for only 100 (only about $7 USD), but I still decided to try hitchhiking.

I walked out of the city and eventually someone pulled over. I remember the way he phrased his words was “can I take you to Karibib?” and not a “I can take you to Karibib.” I hoped it didn’t mean he expected payment because it wasn’t discussed. I figured things were going smoothly.

As we are getting close to the city, he informs me that it will be 100 rand for that part of the journey…

He drops me off in Karibib at a station where more unofficial taxis were going the rest of the way to Windhoek. That leg of the journey was going to cost me 150… I was kind of annoyed at that point and decided to be adamant about only paying 70 since that would have added up to the “original” price to Windhoek. I rather quickly found a ride for that price, and I did end up getting to Windhoek for 170, but it could have been 100… There’s just no such thing as a free lunch it seems. So much for saving money by hitchhiking, haha. In my opinion, it’s just not worth the trouble to try and hitchhike in Namibia since everyone will expect money. Just book a shuttle or use a “taxi.”

I had been communicating for a week or so with the couple from the Facebook group. They were going to rent a car in Tsumeb, which is more in the north side of Nambia, and travel around. I was to join them, and I was kind of dancing around their schedule.

We had originally agreed to meet on the 7^th. Then, it seemed they were going to get there early, so it was pushed up to the 5^th. But then they were not as quick as they thought, so it was amended to the 6^th. Ok, whatever, I was pretty flexible. Finally, the night before I was to head up there to meet them, they let me know that they weren’t going to go to Tsumeb after all and it wasn’t going to work out. I had other opportunities I could have gone with, but I didn’t go with them because I was banking on this other couple, and I don’t like to be the one to flake out on previously agreed-upon plans. That was annoying.

So, I had to find an alternative. Luckily, I had been hanging out for a couple of days with a couple who I had met in the hostel, and they had just departed the day before on their trip in a car they had rented. We had previously exchanged numbers, so I hastily messaged JD and Steph to see if I could join them. They were already 4 hours away, but they graciously agreed to wait in Keetmanshoop one more day for me.

The next morning, I went to the bus station and, after a bit of waiting and a 4-hour ride, managed to reunite with them. Our first destination was the Fish Canyon.

It was certainly nice, but it was no Grand Canyon, haha.

After that, we went to the famous Sossusvlei where Deadvlei is at, a clay basin with dried-out trees in the middle of the desert—a relic of ages ago when there was more water in the area.

The hostel in Windhoek cost N$220 per night, and we were surprised to find out that camping at the Fish River Canyon was practically the same price at $215 per night. We were shocked to find out that camping at Sossusvlei was actually $350 per night, which is about $25 USD. Just to camp…

With those prices, we decided to stay only one night.

After hiking around a bit and checking out the sights, we drove to Swakopmund. JD and Steph were concerned that I would be annoyed seeing the same city again, but, honestly, I didn’t really see that much from my previous trip, so I didn’t mind.

That being said, it turns out that there wasn’t too much to see in Swakopmund anyway, haha. We took the opportunity to fix the flat tire in our car, and while doing that, we noticed that another tire was leaking air. The Namibian dirt roads can be kind of brutal. If you visit and rent a car, I would get tire insurance if they offer it.

We drove down to Walvis Bay for the day. On the way there, JD was driving, and he, like me, no longer had his driver’s license. We went through a police checkpoint, but this time they asked for his driver’s license. Since he didn’t have it, we had to pull over, and then the police wanted to check all our passports. I didn’t have mine with me, so Steph had to drive me back to the hostel to pick it up while JD was held there at the police checkpoint. We feared that he was going to get a ticket, but luckily once I came back with my passport, they said Steph had to keep driving, and we got off without any fines of any sort. I have traveled quite a bit over the years, but that is the first time that I have ever had to provide my passport to a police officer for them to make sure I wasn’t overstaying my visa.

After that little bit of drama, we went up Dune 7, which is the highest dune in Namibia, and apparently one of the highest in the world, but that claim remains to be verified. In any case, the towering dune is 383 meters (1256 feet) tall.

In Sossusvlei, there is another tall dune called Big Daddy, and we kind of felt that Big Daddy looked higher, but whatever.

We also visited the salt works, where the water turns pink due to the bacteria that thrive in the highly saline environment. It’s also apparently a very important area for a variety of birds including flamingoes.

Our next destination was the Skeleton Coast, which was the place I was looking forward to the most, and it didn’t disappoint. An odd set of weather patterns ensures a constant fog, heavy winds that push ships to the shore, and an arid and inhospitable climate. Many ships have gotten stranded on the coast in the past, even as recently as a few years ago with the Chamarel in 2012. Portuguese sailors back in the day used to call the coast “The Gates of Hell” while the natives called it “The Land God Made in Anger,” which is the coolest name for any location I’ve ever heard.

The first wreck we encountered was the Zeila.

We drove by Cape Cross and decided to visit the seal colony. They were cool to see, but I was so glad to get out of there. They stank! Ugh, it was so strong and pungent.

We found another wreck that was about where the Winston was supposed to be, but according to a website I found, it looked nothing like what it was supposed to be. Maybe this was another newer wreck that wasn’t mentioned yet on the various websites I looked up?

 

I decided to call it the Bridger. See? The name is written there, and now it’s my ship.

After we got back on the main road, we saw an actual sign for the Winston a couple of kilometers later. The road was too gnarly for our VW Golf, so we couldn’t investigate fully.

There was another very clearly marked shipwreck, but it didn’t seem to have an associated name. There was also a nearby bone, which I assumed to be the hip bone or skull of a whale.

We also explored an abandoned oil rig we found in the middle of the desert.

We drove all the way up to Torra Bay, but there didn’t seem to be much more to see. The wind was insanely strong, and we were not allowed to overnight in the Skeleton Coast Park anyway, so we made our way out the east exit and into the Torra Conservancy.

It was already late in the evening as we entered the conservancy, and we decided to set up camp at a nice looking spot we drove by. It was green and even had some dead branches to make a fire, so we thought it was perfect.

We set up camp, collected some wood, and started a fire. In the ensuing darkness of night, a car came driving up the road and stopped by us. He was some anti-poaching officer, and he wanted to make sure we weren’t poachers. He informed us that we weren’t really allowed to camp there, but whatever. He also told us that we needed to careful because there were a lot of lions in the area. That set Steph and me on edge a bit. JD was still fearless, though. After dinner, we decided to not hang out that much and retired into our tents.

I woke up at midnight. I just felt something was wrong. Then I heard it. Footsteps near where our fire was and where we were cooking the night before. We had left our partially clean pots there, and whatever it was started moving the pots around and licking them. The footprints got closer and the animals started sniffing around my tent before going over to the other tent and sniffing around there. JD was snoring loudly, and I was afraid it would attract them, but if I called out to tell him to wake up, that would be even louder.

The moon was moving across the sky, and as it was on the horizon, one of the animals walked between my tent and the moon, casting its silhouette on my tent. I had been holding out hope that our visitors were just some curious ostriches since there are quite a few in the area, but my hopes were squashed. Definitely the silhouette of something like a lion.

I was sitting up all night, afraid that they might rip open the tents. I was actually holding my headlamp most of the night. It was on, but I had it pointing down into my sleeping bag so it wouldn’t illuminate my tent. In my other hand was my pocket knife. I knew it was likely a fool’s plan, but I was ready to shine the light in the eyes of my attacker and maybe use my knife in some way to get it to back off. I’m not sure what my next step would have been since the car was locked and the keys were with the other 2 in the other tent, but I was at least ready to carry out phase 1 of my survival plan if something happened.

One of them howled in the night. At that point, I thought it might not be lions but maybe hyenas, but I just couldn’t be sure. I thought hyenas made this cackling laugh, but I didn’t hear that, so I was unsure. In either case, I feared that the howl was intended to summon more friends to our location.

I sat in my tent most of the night, monitoring where the footsteps were as they circled our tents. Then I heard what I thought was a goat mewing (I learned later that it was a baby Springbok antelope). It was near the road, and then I heard the animals give chase and tackle it to the ground no more than 10 meters from the tents. They then dragged the baby while it still mewed to some trees by the road, still no more than 10 meters away, and started feasting. They grew mostly quiet, and the occasional sound of snapping bones was the only thing that broke the otherwise silence. Were we to be the second course of this nighttime meal? My hands shook with adrenaline and fear and I actually closed my knife because I was afraid I might cut myself with how much my body was tremoring.

After an agonizingly long time, they started wandering around again, and they seemed to have left the area since I couldn’t hear them anymore. I was still alert for quite some time and only managed to maybe get an hour or 2 of sleep before the sun came up.

As the sun touched our tents, I was bold enough to slightly unzip the outer flap to peek around the campsite. No lions in sight, but I was still a little leery of getting out of the tent. What if they were waiting in the nearby bushes for us? Obviously, nothing happened and we didn’t become some newspaper headline.

As a truck was driving by, JD got out of his tent and asked the guy to maybe just chill with us for a minute while we quickly packed up our camp, just to have some safety in numbers. The guy used to be a safari operator, and after checking some footprints, he informed us that our visitors were not lions but rather “only” hyenas. He said even if it were hyenas or lions, neither would rip open a tent to get inside. I come from Wyoming where bears will gladly rip open a tent, so I wasn’t sure that I was perfectly safe in the tent. He also let us know that lions would have just passed through. Hyenas would stick around, like they did, but had we got out of our tents and yelled, they would have run off.

We thanked him for his moral support and drove off. While driving, we stopped by the Organ Pipes and the Burnt Mountain, both of which were rather unimpressive.

 

We then reached Outjo, which was where my 2 lovely travel companions and I separated. They went up north to Etosha Park, and I went back to Windhoek and took a bus to Cape Town the next day. I would have liked to have seen Etosha, but my time in Africa was starting to dwindle, and since I had already been on one safari, I decided I would like more time in South Africa.

I really like Namibia. I loved the desolate landscape, and it reminded me of Wyoming in some ways. I would definitely like to go back and rent a car with some friends and do another road trip. Highly recommended, and it was my favorite country in Africa so far. But I must confess that I think the awesome road trip I had with the amazing JD and Steph are really what made Namibia so special for me.

I even made a video about it!