The White Lady

Thu 30 Jun 2016 - Brandberg Mountain

With our malaise of yesterday diminished we were out early to visit the Brandberg mountains just west of Uis with the highest mountain in Namibia with its highest peak, Lonigstein, being approx. 2600m above sea level. However, today we were not here to hike this single mass of granite but to visit prehistoric rock art.

We are getting blaise about driving along the dusty gravelled roads now and made good time to be the first visitors of the day. Immediately, we were greeted by the security guard in the newly constructed shady parking area and we filled in the usual personal details before being allowed to make our way to the kiosk to pay the entrance fee, which included a guide. Again we had to fill in the same details here and introduced to Patricia, our guide who would accompany us around the rock art and provide explanations of them.

The walk to the “White Lady Painting” would take roughly an hour and this gave Yvonne plenty of time to chat with Patricia who had worked here for 6 years, was 27 years old, engaged for 10 years, had two girls 10 and 3 both who lived with her grandmother in Uis town. Her fiance also works as a guide here and they have built their own home slightly away from work, in a small community, many of whom work in a nearby tourist camp and  lodge. 

She had attended a one week training course run by the National Heritage Council of Namibia, funded by Norway and the UN, and on passing the exam, was now a qualified guide and able to guide at any other of the Heritage sites around Namibia. She told us her hobbies were cleaning the house, washing and reading books especially to gain more knowledge about the geology of Brandberg mountain area. She hoped to start her own business to provide a local shop nearby for people who were unable to get to Uis ‘town’.

Clearly very fit with her daily workout climbing over rocks and speedily walking across the dry river beds we arrived at the famous rock art cave, where she imparted her knowledge of the art. Back in 1917 two Germans, one named Maack, were surveying the mountain. They climbed to the top and upon coming down they took shelter under an overhanging rock. When Maack awoke the next morning he saw the white painting and made a sketch of it. This shelter is referred to as the Maack shelter. He later made copies which were published in a book on bushman (San) art and this was how the “white lady” was introduced to the outside world. 

On a visit to Cape Town in 1929 the white painting came to the attention of a Frenchman. He studied the drawing and hypothesized that the figure was that of a female. Hence the name “White Lady”. In 1948 he wrote a paper which was published in the South African Archaeological Bulletin which provoked international debates on the origin of the painting.

We were the first to arrive at the overhanging rock and Patricia explained the lady is infact a man and as we knelt closer to the rock face we could follow her explanations. The painting depicts the performance of a ritual dance by a group of people. The central figure is, in fact, that of a shaman (medicine man) who had danced so vigorously that the ashes from the fire had stuck to the sweat on his legs, hence they are white. It is thought the inhabitants of the Brandberg were San hunter-gatherers and that the paintings originated from them. The medicine man was called upon to perform dances during times of drought or illness. It was also believed that some of the animals had mystical powers and during these ritual dances the shaman would take on the figures of these animals - there were paintings of giraffe, springbok, wildebeest and leopards.

We spent a long time here and only moved on as we were interrupted by a call from another guide with his clients waiting to come up to visit. We came away and met up with this guide who Yvonne, by some strange womanly wiles, informed Patricia was her fiance, yes? They both giggled and we chatted about how many goats did he have to give her family to allow him to take Patricia away and could he afford any more wives. He left with his clients and Patricia informed us there were more rock art paintings to see higher up the mountains and she would be willing to take us there. Of course we accepted and she quickly advised us how much extra we would have to pay to visit.

She took us higher scrambling over huge granite boulders, squeezing through gaps in the rocks and pointing out the various lizards, beetles, hyrax and fresh leopard footprints as we passed them. Unfortunately she told us we probably wouldn’t spot the elusive desert elephant here, something we had been very keen to see as they are smaller and with thinner legs than the regular African elephant. It was getting hot and as we arrived at the next site we were thankful to rest in another overhanging rock. This painting was well preserved with the red, white and black colours of clearly distinguishable animals, hunting men and two very prominent giraffe who were surrounded by patterns depicting heavy rainfall, for which they are associated. Patricia took us further up to visit two more sites with similar stories of zebras and water buffalo. Clearly in the past this area had been very well supplied with water for all these animals to be depicted here.

With hunger and heat kicking in we made our way back, Patricia proficiently leaping from boulder to boulder in her canvas shoes whilst we trudged back getting very hot in our hiking boots. During our circuit Patricia had explained about the various tribes in Namibia, their different cultures and languages. The click languages are different between them and she demonstrated the four click sounds of her native language. Obviously we made her laugh as we tried to emulate her but lacked the tongue dexterity to make clucking, tutting and clicking sounds. Back at the kiosk Patricia requested payment for the extra tour and we were very surprised when she declared that money was for her and the price she gave us was for each site and per person and before we knew it we had handed over quite a large sum of money to her. 

She then had a short exchange with the security guard and advised us his wife had called him as a herd of desert elephants were close to his house. Did we want to go to see them? Of course we did and she promptly jumped in our car and we were following her directions across the desert in our 2WD with fingers crossed for around 6km. We passed her home not stopping as she was keen for us to get to see the elephants. Stopping a few times for her to shout to neighbours to ask where were they, we followed vague arm waving directions until we arrived in the local lodge and camping site. A few campers had also spotted the elephants and we followed them around in the car until we had a clear viewing of the herd who were busy stripping trees, taking dust showers or just quietly standing in the shade of the trees. During this time Patricia had plugged her 1990’s Nokia phone into the car’s usb charger and was busy phoning her family and friends for very loud clicky conversations.  

As usual we spent ages just watching the herd and Patricia was beginning to get restless, as obviously she should be back at work and not earning a few extra dollars with tourists. Complaining she was getting hungry after not having had breakfast we took the hint and drove her back to the art rock site kiosk stopping on the way to visit her home which she was clearly very proud of. She dashed inside to tidy up a bit before letting us through her new wooden fence and gate. They had two rooms, a bedroom and a kitchen made from intertwined sticks with cow dung used to fill the gaps and the roof was a piece of corrugated iron. The kitchen did have an ancient cooker and chest freezer both running off bottled gas and both looked as if they had been recycled from a refuse site. She had no food in the house and they carried their water from a borehole about 250m away. 

We arrived safely at the kiosk and whilst she wrote down her contact details for us to keep in touch through Postbox 27, Uis, Namibia, Glenn dug out a few more dollars to give her, at which, Patricia looked quite displeased with the amount and asked if it was this for the elephant trip. We confirmed it was and she turned around and walked away without a backwards glance. We thought she’d done alright for bunking off work and sitting in our air conditioned car for a while.

We then sped home for a long drink and a nap - well, we had been up early!

Hunters and prey 

The eponymous white lady

Yvonne and Patricia between caves

Giraffes bringing rain 

One of the many lizards

Desert elephants - mother and calf...

... mum takes a dust bath - one benefit of the desert

Yvonne and Patricia at her house

Busy doing nothing

Wed 29 Jun 2016 - Uis

A late morning precluded us from visiting the cave paintings today (we had been advised against being out in the midday heat) so we lounged around around for awhile reading the Brexit news and the state of the pound. By a set of fortunate circumstance we have our accommodation for the next two weeks booked and paid for and a large amount of South African Rand, which is readily useable in Namibia, in cash. Hopefully, by the time we need to call on the faithful GBP again it will have recovered some of its former might against the currencies of southern africa.

Once news’d out we lay in the sun for a while and before we knew it was lunch time. As old folks we had a nice snooze after lunch then Yvonne gave Glenn’s hair a good trim and we did a spot of reading on the history of the African countries we have visited. Now late in the afternoon Glenn went for a walk but, as you can see from the following map, there is not much to Uis so it didn’t take long.

Retirement really is great. We did nothing today, yet it passed effortlessly and we really enjoyed it. 

Funky building

Uis's grand entry statement

The aptly named Brandberg 'rest' camp

Shipwrecks in the sand

Tue 28 Jun 2016 - Travel to Uis

For the previous two mornings we have accepted Ruxana’s offer of eggs for breakfast but the vast number of eggs she scrambled and the cheese she added, while tasty, had overfilled us for the day so this morning it was back to our beloved porridge. Once packed we said a lengthy goodbye to Ruxana (there was never anything quick about her conversations) then got underway. Today we travel up the Skeleton Coast then across the desert to Uis.

The Skeleton Coast is so named for the shipwrecks that litter the beaches. The strong currents, hidden rocks and frequent mists from the cold sea conspire to make this one of the most hazardous places for ships and if by chance anyone made it ashore there is only miles of desert. Chances of survival are slim. 

We passed through Swakopmund, Namibia’s largest seaside resort, stopping briefly to buy some provisions, then headed north along the coast road, which is made of salt and is amazingly smooth. We had expected the road to nestle between the sea and towering dunes so we were very surprised to find the sea a few hundred metres to our side and inland an endless desert plain. In this region Namibia very gentle fades into the sea. 

The road runs for several hundred km up the coast (luckily, we only needed to travel the first 70km) and every now again we would pass a beach or small isolated settlement labelled just as Mile 15 or Mile 33: a legacy from Namibia’s colonial past. Yesterday our friend Victor, from the Yacht Club, told us the grey lichen, which we’d sought fruitlessly the day before, could be found along this road and his description of the steel wired fence was perfect. The lichen is special for its reaction to moisture, typically the prevalent fogs. When dry it looks a drab, almost dead plant put show it some water and within seconds it begins to turn green and bushy - right in front of your eyes. Apparently it was featured on David Attenborough’s ‘Life of Plants’.

A short while later we spotted a sign for the wreck of the Zeila and turned off to take a look. It was stranded in the early morning hours of 25 August 2008. A fishing trawler, it was sold as scrap metal to an Indian company but became stranded after it broke loose from its towing line while underway to Bombay, India. There were some suspicious characters lurking at the car park so we only pulled in to take a photo then promptly left.

The rather peculiar town of Henties Bay marked the end of our coastal journey. Built around the mouth of the part time, or perennial, to use the Namibian term, river Omaruru the town seems prosperous enough with a small mall and many large houses but the streets are just packed sand with no pavements, although, rather oddly, street lights. We drove around the empty streets for a while exploring and concluded it must be a seaside town of predominantly second homes, as there seemed no visible signs of employment.

Just out of town we turned away from the coast and headed east, back inland, through the bleakest, most empty, barren, desert landscape we’ve so far seen. Dead flat, plantless sand as far as the horizon. We prayed the repaired puncture would hold - this was not the place to break down. After many kms the vague form of mountains became visible and the popping of our ears indicated we were steadily, although visually imperceivably, climbing and eventually the vast form of the Brandberg mountain, our next objective, came into view. The highest mountain in Namibia, Brandberg is home to some famous cave paintings we hope to visit tomorrow.

Mid afternoon we arrived in the town of Uis and found the Brandberg Rest Camp, our home for the next three nights. Learning the mains water was off and only salty bore hole water available, Glenn wandered over the road to the well stocked minimarket to buy a 6l bottle of spring water while Yvonne settled into our spacious apartment. We then checked the latest Brexit news before dining and bed.

Yvonne bids farewell to Ruxana

The sea just visible across the desert/beach

The famous grey lichen. You can see the green area where we have sprinkled some water.

The Zeila Wreck

Henties Bay

Bleak desert road with telephone poles disappearing into the mirage.

Brexits

Mon 27 Jun 2016 - Walvis Bay

And Twitter can’t stop making ‘Brexit’ jokes…….The morning was spent reading as much as we could about Brexit fallout with England having no PM, the Opposition Shadow Cabinet resigning left, right and centre (or should that be left, left and left), a no confidence vote due today on the opposition Labour leader Corbyn, no EU membership and watching the £ crash. At least we are still in the Euro Football Competition with a comfortable match against Iceland tonight.

We needed to get the slow puncture repaired on the Corolla’s front tyre before we set off again, managing to find the Namibian equivalent of Kwikfit in Walvis. The tyre fitter repaired it in quick time, however the sales counter, where we had to pay, was severely lacking in customer service and ignored us until they were ready to take our money in silence. We had been so impressed with the service given to us throughout Namibia so far we were both surprised and disappointed.

We decided to visit the town heading down to the seafront for a lunch time beer and noticing the Walvis Bay Yacht Club we headed to the members’ bar where an elderly gentleman sitting at the bar introduced himself as Victor and conversation and beers flowed easily between us. Of German descent, Victor shared many stories about his uncle who was forced to return to Germany during WW2 by the South Africans, who were defending Namibia along with the British. He arrived off the ship in Hamburg was sent immediately to the Russian front, captured as a POW and sent to a Siberian concentration camp. The Commandant realised he was a good cook so he became his chef. Nearing the end of the war the Commandant smuggled him out on a cattle truck to Trieste where he walked to Italy then made his way covertly back to Cologne as the war ended and then returned straight back to Namibia. What a life story!

Yvonne excitedly shared our recent news that Carol, our SA friend in USA, had recently left a comment on our blog that her great grandfather had owned the bakery in Kolmanskop, the town built by the Germans in the desert where diamonds had been found. He had been paid in small diamonds and had been a wealthy man (the tour guide told us this is how the general store owner had also become so rich). Victor was excited about this and then told us that his grandfather, Herr Koln, had been the chief accountant there, we had even visited his home during our tour of the town.

Victor made his way home and we left to drive along the esplanade and park up for Glenn to take a beer nap, which lasted quite some time, whilst Yvonne spotted with her binoculars dolphins and pelicans in the lagoon and watched the terns aerodynamically plummeting into water. With Glenn fully compos mentis again we drove around to view the flamingos again and sat in the car listening to music as the sun set. We’d forgotten how pleasurable it is just to sit and listen to music without doing anything else, typically motoring and travelling around. 

We arrived back at Roxy’s after sunset and managed to get in, make and eat dinner without her noticing us then settled down to watch England v Iceland in the Euro football in our room. Yet another disaster for England. We enjoyed some great tweets: ‘Hodgson, the only man with a plan for a swift exit from Europe’ and ‘This England team were good on paper, unfortunately the tournament was played on grass’

A pelican muscles in on the flamingos

Flamingos bathed in the setting sunlight

The rather odd looking Horus B&B.

Welwitschias….what?

Sun 26 Jun 2016 - Welwitschia Drive and Walvis Flamingos

Unfortunately, early this morning the house alarm was set off and, whilst we stayed in our room, we heard a bit of a racket going on downstairs but we soon realised it was some other guests arriving home after a good Saturday night out. Now awake we were able to make use of the good internet here before everyone else logged. As Roxy cooked us breakfast she apologised for the disturbance but confirmed the house alarm was essential. She produced the local paper with a piece regarding a recent break in, robbery and murder of a dad to a local family. Apparently, what has incensed the community is that after the capture of 2 of the 6 men it transpired they were on bail following three previous incidents of attempted murder. Reflecting on this we considered if this is a one off incident or the future of Namibia.

Roxy had advised us it is unseasonably warm an indication of a possible sandstorm over the next couple of days and as we headed out of Walvis Bay town the wind was blowing quite strongly from the east across the desert dunes to whip up the sand, blowing it across the main road. We considered turning back but decided to head on further to Swakopmund town, which is Namibia’s main beach resort and extreme sports destinations, and, if necessary, hunker down there. As we entered the town the wind dropped and our anxieties were diffused. 

We headed down the C24 to Dorob NP to see one of Namibia’s most unusual plants, the Welwitschia.  They are only found here and reach their greatest concentration on the Welwitschia Plains east of Swakopmund, where they are the dominant plant. As we turned off the main road we commenced on what is known as Welwitschia Drive (think even more gravel dirt track roads though) and within a short distance started to spot these dishevelled appearing plants. They have only two long and leathery leaves, which grow from opposite sides of a corklike stem then darken with years of sun and are torn by the wind into tattered strips, causing the plant to look like a wilted lettuce. Their growth rate is very slow and it is believed the largest ones, whose tattered masses of stripped leaves are up to 2m, may have been growing for up 2000 years, no typo here, two thousand years! The mid sized ones are thought to be less than 1000 years old and they don’t even flower until they are 20 years old. We cruised down the drive stopping every 50m or so to walk across the sand and investigate these strange plants and deciding we’d seen enough we continued on heading towards the distant mountains. Suddenly the sand stopped and we were making an ascent across sandstone boulders with a black seam running through them and the mountainside riddled with white sparkling quartz. We spotted a small sign pointing to a camping site, basically an area of the same of terrain but with a long drop loo hidden behind a cobbled together wooden frame. Who would camp out here?!

The drive returned back to the arid desert and we soon realised we were in the Welwitschia area proper. Here they were prolific and very large, putting the earlier plants in the shade (well not out here!). Several were either about to flower or spread their seeds, both looking dried and burnt. Wandering about these plants not only the sun but also the wind was hot and we were on the wane getting dried lips and dehydrated and decided to head back via the road that passes Dune 7. This dune is popular with the locals for sandboarding and skiing and used to have a picnic site which is now engulfed by sand. Both locations had no signs of human life so our desire to have a go at skiing was quashed, we forgot it was Sunday.

Arriving back at Walvis Bay we headed along the esplanade and waterfront area in search of its unique natural attraction, one of the largest flocks of flamingos in the whole of Southern Africa, where we spotted a small congregation but, as Walvis has 3 wetland areas, we headed off to the The Lagoon. Unintentionally we had timed our arrival immaculately as the tide was coming in and the birds were wading in along the shallow tidewater. Here were enormous noisy flocks of lesser and greater flamingos distinguishable by their colouration. Greater ones are white to light pink with whitish beaks with black tips and Lesser ones are a deeper pink, nearly reddish colour with dark red beaks. We soon realised the Greater ones feed by rotating in a circle stamping their feet to entice something up from the mudflats, looking as if they were dancing from one leg to another. Lesser ones were sweeping their heads from side to side filtering the algae. As well as feeding many were washing and preening vigorously and their white feathers created what looked liked foam on the incoming tide. Yvonne managed to select a few pink edged feathers as mementos, sufficiently lightweight to carry around.

We sat and watched the flock for a very long while using our binoculars to spot many other birds scouring the mudflats before the tide engulfed them and before we knew it the sun was setting and the flamingos were raising one leg and laying the long necks across their backs in readiness for sleep. Eagerly we dashed back to the car to visit the Salt Flats and as we arrived outside the factory the salt mountains were glowing with an orange hue - yet again we watched a beautiful South African sunset.

Back at Roxy’s the other (noisy) guests had departed meaning we were the only guests in the house and as soon as Yvonne entered the kitchen Roxy arrived for a quick chat and before we knew it a couple of hours had passed by, enabling Glenn, with a decent internet service to Skype Scottie and see cutey Cody Jay Jarvis. Not long now to wait until we get to give him a great big cuddle back home.

The wind shredded leaves of a Welwitschia

Welwitschia plain

A dark rock seam runs through the mountains

Just some of the thousands of flamingos

Lesser flamingos

And more join the throng

A lone avocet wading amongst the flamingo feathers

Salt mountain kissed by the setting sun

Red meets pink

Sand Sculptor

Sat 25 Jun 2016 - Solitaire to Walvis Bay

Last night the Solitaire Desert Farm had been filled with a couple of coach loads of German tourists and at 0500 they noisily had their breakfast and left leaving us to get up much later and breakfast alone. For the first time in a long while we had decent internet so after packing we took the opportunity to catch up with the family on the phone then while Glenn backed up some photos Yvonne chatted to the manager, who had only been in post for three weeks. Yvonne shared her fears of being caught in a sandstorm, which can ravage the coastal area we were heading for, but was told they are not common this time of year and you can tell when they are coming as the temperatures rises dramatically when the winds changes from blowing over the cold sea to the warm desert. Good to know. Now late in the morning we set off along the 250 km drive to Walvis Bay, a former british whaling colony.

The dirt road was initially corrugated and strewn with small rocks, which made the first part of the journey quite uncomfortable but we passed a few ostriches wandering around, a lone black backed jackal walking up the side of the road and a flock (?) of vultures feeding on, presumably, a carcass but we couldn’t quite see over a mound. A short while later we passed a sign indicating the Tropic of Capricorn, we were now in the tropics and the landscape was the same arid semi-desert with distant mountains, those to the east banked with sand at their bases, then we noticed a scar meandering towards us. As we got closer we could see smaller tributary canyons jutting into the plain then suddenly the road dropped down a steep slope and across the dry riverbed of the Guab Canyon. It was nowhere near as large or impressive as the fish river canyon from several day ago but made a welcome photo stop.

After we climbed up the other side the landscape abruptly changed into thousands of small round hills all with a low green covering of some, clearly very hardy, plant. The road travelled for some kilometres winding around and over these mounds making a very pleasant change from the flat, barren desert of the previous days. As we progressed the mounds began to develop sharp toothed summits and slowly morphed into a vast area of jagged rocky ridges that were simultaneously impressive and daunting. Several sharp bends and ridge crests later we once again dropped suddenly into another canyon and crossed the dry river bed of the Kuiseb river that later carves a large canyon, which we did not have time to visit, before meeting the sea just south of Walvis Bay.

As abruptly as it had started the rocky plateau ended and we dropped down a steep hill into the flattest, most featureless desert plain we’ve so far been too. We followed the laser straight dirt road across the seemingly endless desert plain when suddenly a large rocky mound, not unlike Uluru in Australia, came into view. As we got closer we could see a parking area with a small sign stating ‘Vogelfederberg’ so turned off to take a look. 

Stepping out of the car we were hit by two things: the scorching midday sun and a strong, warm desert wind. The sand here is very coarse and gritty and as we closed on the mound we could see it had been carve into numerous curves and the entire front edge had an enormous overhang like the crest of breaking wave. As we wandered over the course, sand scoured rock we noticed dozens of the beetles we saw in the Sossusvlei and were able to get some photos before finding a way to the top of the rock and discovering it had a twin a hundred metres behind, though as it was in the lee of the wind it was much smoother. We stayed awhile hanging onto to our hats in the strong wind and gazing at the endless expanse of sand in every direction - we would not want to break down here.

Back at the car we continued our drive and with the road now smooth and with no frame of reference to give the impression of speed we regularly found ourselves driving very fast and needing to slow down but at least we made good progress and before long we could see signs of human activity on the horizon. At first we were joined by a run of power cables then we could see large buildings: Walvis was clearly a big place, well, in Namibian terms.

As we reached the outskirts we passed some small ponds where we saw some of the flamingos for which the town is famous and one of the reasons we had come. We pulled off the road, grabbed our binoculars and camera and watched for a short while as they swung their heads from side to side filtering the water for food but with traffic crashing past it was not an ideal viewpoint so we set off to find the Horus B&B our home for the next three nights.

Passing through suburbs, yes, Walvis is that big, we followed the signs for the town centre stopping at a large supermarket to buy some provisions then we followed the sat nav to a large development on the very edge of the sea front side of town and turned up a street of flashy new ‘ grand designs’ buildings trying to find number 11. The Horus was the shabby looking brick block, next but one form the end and after trying to get a response from the front door one of large group of black youngsters sitting on the first floor balcony shouted down to open the gate and drive round the back.

Complying with these instructions we entered a large courtyard and were greeted by our host, Ruxana Originally from Bucharest in Romania, her husband had been offered a job at the shipyard and they had come over in the mid 90’s. 12 years ago he had been killed in an industrial accident and with no direct family to return to and a son who was, to all intents and purposes, Namibian she had chosen to stay and build the Horus. A typically forceful eastern european woman, she had designed the property herself and project managed its construction, regaling us with tales of how useless the builders were and how they dreaded her arrival on site to be told to correct mistakes. She has been open for a couple of years now and although very spartan inside: plain brick walls, bare concrete floor and polished concrete shower enclosure it all works - maybe we should stop comparing African homes to European ones, they have a different mentality for their different needs.

We spent a long while chatting, both women clearly needing the words, then Yvonne rustled up a curry and we watched England complete their record breaking whitewash in the rugby tests. With another good internet connection Glenn skyped Tom the elder to catch up with all their news about new jobs, wedding plans, house decorating and seeing and hearing Riley, who is now very chatty and engaging with good old Grandad, who left feeling things are looking good for them all.

An unseasonably hot night had us throwing off covers and opening windows, maybe foolishly if the wind picks up the sand.

The Solitaire Desert Farm

Desert view

Getting tropical

The dry river bed of the Guab canyon

Undesertlike rolling green hills...

...merge in to their rocky cousins

Vast empty desert

Tok Tokkies - the sprinting beetles

Wind carved cave at Vogelfederberg

Dune Raiders

Fri 24 Jun 2016 - Sossusvlei and Dead Vlei

This getting up early lark must be getting easier as there was not one peep of protest from Yvonne and we were underway once more at 0615. Today we planned to push straight on to the end of the road and get to Sossusvlei before the hoards arrived. All went to plan at first as we overtook several coaches and minibuses that had stopped at the same viewpoints that we did yesterday and we got to the 2WD drive car park within an hour to find just a few vehicles already there.

We handed over our cash to the shuttle co-ordinator, jumped aboard one of the open backed safari vehicles and we were soon bouncing along the deep sandy trail. Then our delays started. Within a short while we came across a large 4WD SUV that had got stuck in the sand and our driver pulled up alongside to offer some help. The German guy (let’s call him Klaus) driving it declined at first, had another crack at getting out, buried himself further in the sand then conceded defeat. Our driver left our vehicle and stepped into the driving seat of the car and expertly managed to free the car by revving slowly, swaying the wheels from side to side and enlisting the help of Klaus and Glenn to push. Klaus swapped places, gave him a tip then promptly drove himself into another drift. We repeated the process of freeing the car, parking it under a tree for subsequent recovery then he and his wife boarded our vehicle and we continued. Within another few metres we met a Merc SUV that had passed us earlier but was now also stuck in the deep sand so our driver stopped to help him while we all transferred to another shuttle, however, in the all this time several other shuttles had passed us and we were no longer going to be early.

When we arrived at the end of the track we all climbed out and the driver pointed to a well worn path in the sand on which hoards of people were wearily trudging their way. We scanned the area, located a quiet dune in the opposite direction and immediately headed towards it leaving the mob behind. The vleis of this area are low lying pans nestled beneath the surrounding dunes where water from any rainfall gathers before soaking away or evaporating. Consequently their bottoms are mostly comprised of mud that is baked hard by the relentless sun, which makes walking much easier. The first part of our walk took over such an area and we made rapid progress to the bottom of the dune but then it was back to slogging up sand - firm at first but becoming softer as it steepened. We reached a low ridge relatively easily then followed its gentle arc until we reached a higher level - we’ve concluded that most dunes don’t really have a summit but continue in graceful curves.

Like yesterday we nestled our bottoms into the sand and sat for a while admiring the views. Directly below us was a well defined, almost circular vlei surrounded by trees and with, what looked like, a dry river bed running into it. We surmised this was the eponymous Sossusvlei from which the whole area takes its name, as we’d read that occasionally water does flow here and for a few short days the vlei becomes a turquoise lake. It must look beautiful. We sand hopped down from the ridge to its edge then sat on a solid shelf of dried mud to soak in the scene and empty the sand from our shoes.

From the dune’s top we’d noticed the distant vlei where the hoards were heading but had plotted a course around some other dunes to avoid the main path and we set off for it now. At the end of the dry riverbed we passed a sign confirming this was indeed Sossusvlei then set off cross country trying to remember the landmarks that looked different from down here. After a short discussion on our route we scrambled up a small dune then saw a vast white vlei below us scattered with dry channels and dead trees - an eerie but amazing scene and, best of all, we had the place to ourselves. For quite a while we wandered around taking dozens of photographs. This place was a photographer’s dream: colours, textures, shapes and bright light.

Over a small sand embankment we could see the remains of the hoards so walked up there to see what all the fuss was about. Wow. A large, flat, bright white vlei ringed with high red dunes and dotted with dozens of black dead trees. This was clearly Dead Vlei and what an amazing place it is. With the bright blue sky the colour contrasts were beautiful and, once again, a photographer’s dream. By now it was approaching the heat of midday so most of the hoard had left and many of those that remained merely stood at the top of the last dune or walked to the edge to take a couple of snaps then left. As a result the actual vlei itself was more or less deserted - perfect. We wandered amongst the gnarled tree trunks snapping with the camera and marvelling at what must have happened here to create this scene but eventually a combination of hunger and the heat (mainly hunger) called us back to the shuttle stop so we followed the well trodden path.

For the last two days we seen dozens of small strange tracks in the sand that we could not identify and to our surprise, right in front of us, a large black beetle suddenly popped up from the sand scurried across the sand then disappeared leaving the same tracks. Pleased to have finally solved that riddle we boarded a shuttle back to the car where we took our lunch at a picnic table under a tree amid the attentions of several inquisitive, and fearless, finches who flew and hopped around us waiting for some scraps.

Then was a speedy ride back to Sesriem to try and find a wifi spot to discover the results of the EU referendum. We stopped at the cafe attached to the petrol station but no joy there so pushed on to our overnight stop in Solitaire, another remote desert hamlet. The road was very bumpy so progress was slow but when we arrived we immediately logged in and were bewildered to discover the referendum had returned a decision to leave. The next hour was spent glued to screens reading the news to get a feel for the possible consequences until we were called for an excellent dinner with the opportunity to try some Kudu meat, which was very tasty.

Glenn lends some muscle to free a stranded car

En route to our quiet dune

Dune view

Life hangs on even here

Yvonne makes her way up the dune watched by Glenn's shadow

Walking along the ridge

Wind textures

Sossusvlei

The desolate vlei

The trees of Dead Vlei

Colour contrats