Let’s talk Namibia. I didn’t know what to expect when we said goodbye to South Africa and crossed into Namibia. I had seen lovely pictures of the desert landscape, read the many praises in my guidebook, and recalled it was a favorite vacationing spot for “Brangelina.” Still, Namibia remained a mystery — one that I wanted to solve.
South Africa has border patrol down to a science. It’s quick, easy, and doesn’t cost a thing. We were in and out within a matter of minutes. We did manage to cause a little confusion when customs searched my bag and mistook tampons for cigars – oops. An awkward exchange, a few laughs, and they sent us packing.
Once on the other side, we found ourselves drowning in a vast sea of nothingness. Wide open space stretched out before us, as far as the eye could see. For the first time, in a long time, I felt very much alone. It was just me, Rich, and our little Chevy Spark, drifting North, our sights set on Fish River Canyon.
After a long day of driving and minimal signs of life, we arrived at Ai-Ais Hot Springs, where we intended to setup camp. It was hot. Too hot. So hot, that we were the only ones there. Go figure. We paid the fee, looked around, and weighed our options over lunch. With the sun soaring and little to do besides a boiling bath, we transferred campgrounds and drove another 50km to be closer to Fish River Canyon.
At first, it seemed like a great idea. The second site, Hobas, offered a little relief with shady trees and a calm breeze. As soon as our tent was erected, Mother Nature stepped in with alternate plans — a regular occurrence, I might add. First came the rain. Lots and lots of rain. Then, a dazzling display of thunder and lightning ensued. I watched from the passenger seat, as Rich went slipping and sliding through mud puddles in his underwear, trying to save the tent while keeping his clothes dry. I found it mildly entertaining. Rich on the other hand… not so much.
All was not lost. Our tent turned out to be durable and waterproof, despite our doubts. The next morning, after lots of cleaning, we packed our belongings and headed for the Canyon. If you haven’t heard of Fish River Canyon, it’s considered the second largest canyon in the world. We had wanted to hike in the area, but unfortunately, that’s not an option during the summertime due to the heat. So, instead of trekking around, we oohed & awed from the various viewpoints.
We found ourselves in a sticky situation while attempting to reach one of the points. We passed a sign that listed the distance and the word “4X4-ish” underneath. Unfortunately, neither of us caught that part as we drove past. I suppose it’s always a good idea to check the fine print before proceeding – “live and learn,” as some like to say. Although, in our case it seems more like “live, live, live a little more, and then learn.” Eh, whatever.
The road seemed to switch from pebbles to boulders in no time. Our previous Polo had a protection barrier on the bottom, but unfortunately, our Spark did not. We crept down a rather challenging hill, cursing like sailors, discussing the very real possibility of getting stuck. With camping gear and an ample supply of food and water, we weren’t too worried about our safety. Worst case scenario, we’d have to hike to the next viewpoint in search of help, but retrieving the Spark would be a logistical nightmare. Yikes.
We turned around, attempting to retreat, but like most things, much easier said than done. It went a little something like this: Slip. Watch tires spin. Reverse. Forward. Slip some more. Curse. Move rocks. Go forward. Move rocks again. Curse some more. This process went on for a while, as we descended into a state of panic. We were two very unhappy campers both literally and figuratively. In the end, we made it out, only to discover the “4×4-ish” sign we had passed on our way in. I’m sure you can imagine the look on our faces. Is all I have to say is what the hell classifies as “4×4-ISH” and not just “4×4?”Something about the “ish” just irks me royally.
The views from the other points were rather impressive, making for a pleasant afternoon once our anxiety levels were in check. Where’s the Xanax when you need it?
