I'm in Nambia! The trip was long, but I've reached the sea again. This time I am gazing out at the Atlantic facing west, which I haven't done since I left Morocco over a year ago. It is peaceful here and quiet in Swakopmund, where the Namib Desert meets the sea as tall sand dunes spill down into the ocean. The city itself feels like a rural Bavarian village transplanted thousands of miles south, with Africa adding the palm trees and tropical flowers to set off the timber-framed, pastel-colored buildings.
How I got here is quite the story. My final weekend in Gabs was hectic, but an appropriate exclamation point to punctuate the end of my internship. Friday night I went out bar-hopping with Sokwe and some of his friends, and we met up with Lauren and some other friends at Lizard Lounge later in the evening. Saturday night, after packing my bags, a friend's house party and braai meant I got to enjoy some delicious Botswana traditional food before heading out early Sunday to begin my travels. The direct bus to Windhoek only leaves on Friday and Sunday mornings, and in my desire to not plan too much for this trip and see what happened as a result, I hadn't booked a ticket ahead of time. But the "bus" to Windhoek was really just a large van for about 20 people, and it was full when Sokwe dropped me off at the bus station (after the taxi didn't come, I called for back-up). In retrospect, it's good that the taxi flaked, because Sokwe not only found me the bus to Ghanzi (that would take me part way to Namibia), but someone else that hadn't made the direct van and could accompany me all the way to Windhoek.
Elijah and I chatted some on the long bus ride before getting dropped off at 4 in the afternoon at the junction 40 km south of Ghanzi (in the middle of the Kalahari Desert) to hitch to the border. About 20 people and all their baggage were trying to do the same thing, and we were all rescued (I suppose) by what one girl referred to as a "police combi": a large police van that was headed an hour and a half west to the Botswana border town. We were crammed like zebras in a Botswana football stadium into this van, and by the end my legs had fallen asleep, but since the ride was in a government vehicle, we did not have to pay for the lift (as is typically common practice in Botswana). At the border, two Batswana girls also joined us trying to find a ride to Windhoek, and we immediately flagged down a truck after crossing the Botswana side. The driver agreed to take us all the way to the city after clearing customs.
Trucks are not the fastest lifts, but our options were quite limited, hitching is much less worrisome in groups, and the truck did have room for all of us, and our bags. We all took turns dozing off on the bed in the back of the cab on the 300+ km trip to Windhoek, and there was some good music, a program on how to solve ratios (weird) and some wildlife sightings to make up for the slow speed and late arrival. I felt like I could have re-written the lyrics to "Bobby McGee" with different geography references. The trucker was staying in his home in Windhoek for the night before pushing onto Angola, and went to fetch his SUV to take us into town with our bags while we waited on the side of the road (funny picture-taking ensued as we joked about being abandoned there). The trucker did show up again though, dropped us off downtown, then Elijah's brother met us and they were nice enough to take the girls to where they could meet someone from their internship program, and drop me off at a hostel (I think I could have stayed at their family's house if they had not been hosting other visitors at the time--I am constantly humbled by people's kindness). By now, it was after 11 pm, so reception was closed--no way to get a room for the night. But the night guard told me I could crash on the floor of the game room--good thing I brought my sleeping bag! And a can of beans from my house--otherwise, no dinner. A Polish guy named Peter shared a bottle of Coke with me while I ate, and told me about his trip--he had biked all the way to Namibia from Poland over the past year (across Europe, over to Morocco on the ferry, then south). Talk about an adventure! Suddenly, my 16-hour trip didn't seem so impressive.
Morning comes early when you sleep in the lobby. But after a pancake breakfast and a shower, I was ready to explore Windhoek. Wandering around town for an hour soon revealed, however, that there wasn't much to see. I had walked through the market, seen the church, the Parliament building, and after consulting the Lonely Planet in a garden, I decided after another hour or so of wandering around, I would be ready to move on--I wanted to get to the ocean! I could only handle being landlocked for so long, and it had been over two months! While I was sitting reading, a girl approached and wanted to know where I was from, and how she could get into college in the U.S. This is one of those incredibly complicated questions, especially when you know the questioner wants a five-minute answer, but I tried to be helpful. In return, she offered to walk me around the rest of Windhoek, and tell me about the Namibian education system. We looked at one of the local museums together, and grabbed lunch (chicken of course) at the Hungry Lion. Tinah then helped me gather my bags and search for the combi to Swakopmund. This took two taxis to different transport stops, but was eventually successful. I was going to the beach! Things seemed to be looking up--I had arranged a hostel room on the phone earlier, and I was on vacation! A few more bumps in the road were yet to come though. We arrived in Swakopmund after dark, and it took me some time to get a taxi into town. Then, the hotel had messed up my reservation, and only had a single room (rather than the dorm) available for about $40 a night. I was too exhausted from all my traveling at this time of night to care. At least it came with free breakfast. And actually, a bed in a room all to myself sounded amazing. It was--I went to bed early and slept like a log.
Tuesday morning, and my vacation had finally started. After moving my bags to the dorm, I went exploring. First stop: the water! I walked out to the edge of the jetty, then wandered up the beach, running into the water sporadically as the mood struck me. How refreshing to be back at the sea! After more wandering, I explored the public library, taking the time to read some Hemingway and absorb his simplistic writing that also professes its love for the sea. But if I adore the ocean, I also have a certain fondness for tacky museums, so after taking in the pretty views of the lighthouse and dodging curio sellers, I found the "Kristal Galerie"--home to the largest quartz crystal on display in the world! It was taller than me, so I guess it was relatively impressive. I don't know if I'd go as far as the welcome note outside the museum though and call crystals "magical". I took some goofy timed pictures in the crystal corridor walk of the museum to try and feel magically inspired. Don't know if I quite got there though.
Ready to get back in tune with nature outside a rock museum, I stopped by a travel agency to explore the option of kayaking while I was waiting to meet up Thursday with friends. After getting that as organized as could be expected (weather dependent!), I decided to walk south of town to explore the sand dunes. Expecting to be awed by seeing the ocean from the top of a big series of dunes, I was actually somewhat underwhelmed. Seeing large quantities of sand next to water is not really that unique after all. It's really just an elevated beach. It was also so windy that sand was everywhere--in my hair, sticking to my chapstick, blowing into my bag. Enough of that. I headed back to town to buy groceries and a bottle of wine for dinner at the hostel. And to wrap up an eventful day in Swakopmund (after the necessary shower to get the sand out of my hair), I grabbed a well-deserved Windhoek lager at the hotel bar, enjoying a nice chat with Frank from Germany.
Wednesday was incredibly relaxed, except for issues with the hotel (yet again). If you ever find yourself in Swakopmund, don't stay at the Gruner Kranz hotel. Since the hotel didn't have a large tour group staying at their hostel that night or the next, they wanted me to find another hotel the next day. I did not want to deal with the hassle of moving again (especially since I was leaving Friday), but after I had them make enough phone calls to full hostels and convinced them I wouldn't be a big problem, they agreed to let me stay. I spent most of the day writing by the water, enjoying a hot chocolate at a café during sunset, and ordered a pizza from a restaurant by the hostel for dinner. I was getting up early to kayak, and wanted to be well-rested.
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