The Awards Tour Part Three
42,000 miles, 13 flights, five countries, 24 days, five meetings, three awards ceremonies, and 15 meetings later
Part Three: Namibia’s Great Dunes and the Skeleton Coast
I’ve been to Namibia three times in the last six months. Considering it’s a tiny country, both economically and people-wise, it probably has the highest density of Walti visits per timeframe. I’ve written before that I find it strangely appealing, for reasons that I still have a hard time explaining. Its small, open, rugged, has the world’s oldest and driest desert located next to bush and rolling hills chocked full of all kinds of animals. It’s capital city, Windhoek, is like an oasis in the middle of nowhere. Three months ago, Namibia was a scorched earth brown, not having significant rain for 12 years. Now, as we swoop in toward its tiny airport in the middle of nowhere, my eyes find it hard to believe that everything is a shade of deep, rich green.
I feel like I’ve been coming here for years
For such a tiny place, I know a lot of people and NGIN is getting more and more active. I’ve been here to speak at two events, the launch of JTF/Namibia and a symposium on the basics of attracting investment to one’s startup. I’m here this time to supervise the final judging of the JTF/Namibia technology challenge, attend its awards ceremony, and then conduct an all-day workshop on how to strengthen Namibia’s nascent innovation ecosystem.
KR and I have stayed on a Namibian farm, the great expanse of its Etosha park, and had cocktails on the only roof top swimming bar in Namibia. We want to make a run west to the coast as we’ve heard about the Skeleton Coast and the great sand dunes that line its coast. All this in less than seven days.
After all the work is done, we rent a Bakkie (Namibian name for a 4WD vehicle), drive north and then straight west to the Atlantic. It’s a four-hour drive, most of which is on a two-lane road (remember, these folks drive on the left side), full of trucks going to/from Namibia’s major port. None of this slows me down as we haul ass at 160kph.
Swakopmund
We’re staying a couple of nights in Namibia’s largest town on the Atlantic coast: Swakopmund (try pronouncing this one:). It’s famous among Namibians as the most European-like city in Namibia (true if your idea of Europe-like is a cold, grey day on the North Sea coast of Belgium). It’s also the bastion of the early German settlers who dominated Namibia until its independence in the mid 1990s. Some say that Nazis came here to hide out after WWII as an alternative to Argentina.
For 200-300 kms north of Swakopmund, the notorious Skeleton Coast lies in wait for any wayward ship. It’s named for the skeletal remains of some of the almost 500 ships that have sunk there. Ships routinely ran aground or sunk for various reasons as the waves are big, the tides are tricky, and it is foggy for most of each day. Rotting shipwrecks jut out from the sand, reminding one of an earlier, more dangerous time.
We decide to spend our only day and a half going the opposite direction, hiring another 4WD tour and guide to the Great Namibian Sand Dunes. Hanho picks us up at the Strand Hotel, drive an hour further south, then turn off the road onto the deep sand following the Sandwich Harbor inlet. The sand quickly gets a lot deeper; the Toyota starts moving around as Hanho guns it. I’m having flashbacks of Chuck and my near-death experience riding our bikes in deep sand in New Mexico.
OMG, what’s that?!
I glance out ahead, and there, through the early morning fog, are the dunes, bigger than the Egyptian pyramids. They’re majestic, a pure tan in color butting up to the bright blue of the Atlantic. Surely, HanHo isn’t going to drive up and over those!
Wrong. After we take some pictures next to the dunes on the beach, Hanho spends the next 2 ½ hours driving over, down, around, and thru an enormous array of dunes. Our little Toyota 4WD SUV earns its Sports Utility Vehicle name. Karen’s in the front seat, grabbing the handles in a death grip, and saying something like “This isn’t what I signed up for!” She did, she just didn’t read the description very closely.
No amount of verbiage, pictures or video will adequately show how humongous these dunes are. At one-point HonHo suggests that I get out of the truck while we’re perched on the absolute tallest dune yet, walk down the dune and then video the truck’s descent. Sure, no problem I’m thinking, until I actually try to walk down this dune. It’s so steep, and sand changes from hard to soft in a minute, that it takes 100% of my concentration not to headfirst down the dune. I take the video and it captures none of the height or steepness of the dune. You’ll have to take my word for it.
Midway through our Paris-Dakar replica drive, Hanho stops and erects the picnic table. Out comes the Prosecco and biscuits. OK, this more like it! KR is still wondering where the prehistoric trees are that she saw in the tour she didn’t select:)
Karen and I both agree that this is one of the most memorable places we’ve been to.
Later that night and following day I get really sick, like retching nine times sick. The combo of anxiety, Prosecco, and car sickness do me in. But, as they say, when the going its tough, the sick play hurt. We catch our plane back to Johannesburg later that day.
Incredible. Glad you survived the dune buggy excursion. You were probably car sick, I know I would be. Gregg