Sossuvlei (dunes)

So, we got up early to go and see the dunes at sunrise. Apparently the dude working the gate at sossuvlei had a bit of a different idea of what “sunrise” meant than the rest of us. He held us, and all the other cars coming to the gate, at the entrance until I think around 7. this was at least an hour after the sun had started to peek over the horizon. George, Alfred, and the rest of us were getting a little peeved. I told george we should give the guard a lick ‘n’ learn. Eventually, we made it in. after a quick bathroom break, george sped (oh, and how) down the road towards dune 45. at one point clare mentioned that we should look at the facial expressions of all the people in the cars we were passing. There was a lot of dismay. But we got to the dunes, and the light was still good.
They are stunning. I’m not sure why there’s so much iron in the sand, but there is, and they are RED. George explained to us that the sand originally was blown from the Kalahari, and ended up in western Namibia. Still not sure why all the iron, but it’s pretty. Especially when the early morning light hits and half of the dunes are still in the dark.
We stopped at dune 45, which is supposed to be the most photogenic dune. Whatever. We got to walk up the dune, which was difficult. Sand is so tricky, it shifts! I imagine if you ran up that a few times a day, you’d be in pretty good shape. At the top we were able to soak in the view. Desert, as far as the eye (or at least my myopic eye) could see. I think it was Andrew and Stephen who had decided to bring the rugby ball with them, and then we decided to play rugby down the side of the dune. Alfred ran down the dune (and it was pretty steep). This was right after he said we shouldn’t do it because we could hurt ourselves. He looked like a springbok prancing down the dune because he had to lift his legs so high to clear the sand. Then the ball was kicked down to him. This was repeated a couple times until we reached the bottom of the dune. Mike got some good photos of Stephen kicking the ball. After this, we got to empty our shoes of sand as best we could. I still have some sossuvlei in my shoes and socks. The socks will get washed in the washing machine when I go to maseru. So, we reached the bottom of the dune and breakfast was ready. George had even cooked bacon and eggs. Heck, I’d been happy with granola and the occasional nutells.
After lunch the rugby and soccer balls were brought back out, and I was feeling a little frisky after the hike up the dune (we hadn’t done too much in the way of exercise the rest of the trip) so I was happy running around kicking and chasing balls.
When we were all packed up and ready to go, we headed further into the desert. We got out of the car and walked a short distance, to the top of a small dune. The other side was very steep. I pranced my way down it slowly. George and Alfred wrestled their way down it. It was kinda cool to see them bonding. They’d just met the first day of our trip, and they’d seemingly gotten to be good friends. They almost rammed into the back of my legs near the bottom of the dune. When we reached the bottom, we turned around to watch both Johanna and Barbara sliding down the dunes on their rear ends. This made a distinctive pattern in the dune, and was also highly amusing. At the bottom, Barbara had another funny quote: “I think it’s time to take my pants off.” I turned to Andrew, who was standing next to me, and asked, “do you think she means American pants or british pants?” we soon found out. She went behind a bush and removed the long underwear she had been wearing. I guess she was getting warm.
So, we continued on our walk, headed towards big daddy, the largest dune in the world. Those that wanted could hike up it, those that didn’t could wait in the deadvlei. I hiked up it, along with Alfred, clare, Stephen (who was feeling well enough to run some of the distance, crazy boy), kyla, and mike. That was a tough walk. I was thankfully behind Alfred, whose footsteps made little ledges into which I could place my feet to make the climb easier. Basically the sand was slightly more packed there. I got to the top, started singing “oh, we’re half way there/o-oh, livin’ on a prayer…” and then took in the view. To one side, far off in the distance, you could see what Alfred told me was the third highest mountain in Namibia. To another side, just dunes. To a third side were some dunes and some mountains. And behind us when we were looking at the third highest mountain in Namibia was the deadvlei. This area has apparently been featured in a few commercials and was in that Jennifer lopez movie, the cell. It is both beautiful and a little unnerving. It is a piece of land that dried out into cracked soil, and on which trees that have been dead for 500 years still stand. These trees can still support some weight, and have lasted because they are far enough into the middle of nothing that no parasites can reach them to destroy them. They kind of look like the living dead, tree-style. It is a very unique site.
Anyways, I left you at the top of a dune. We still had to get down the dune, and into the deadvlei. I tried to go down surfer-style, but this proved slow and ineffective, so in the end I just ran, slowly, down the dune. Stephen sped by me at one point, thoroughly enjoying himself. At the bottom, we had another shoe-emptying party, leaving little piles of sand on the deadvlei. Then we got to walk across and actually touch trees that have been dead hundreds of years. Someone might’ve gone up and hugged a tree. I don’t remember. After crossing the deadvlei, we took a landrover back to our bus. The driver apparently liked to speed as quickly as possible over the bumpy ruts in the sand. Fun ride. This is also when clare decided to dub Alfred “alfredo of nothing.” Back at the bus, and a quick lunch later, we were back on the road heading for sesriem canyon. It was an anticlimactic canyon, especially for anyone who’d seen the grand canyon. It was just so small, and there really wasn’t too much there to see. We did get a flat tire, though, and got to watch Alfred and george fix it.
Then, back to agama for our last night of the safari. This is also when I discovered that I shouldn’t had more water to drink that day, as I was starting to get a migraine. It cleared up though, and after a couple very sorry rounds of pool I went to bed.
The next morning was to be our last camp breakfast. Sigh. Then, on the road headed for Windhoek. At a gas station, we obtained another heat magazine, this one outlining the evolution of “brange” or “brangelina” or whatever their being called these days. There was also a picture of prince harry looking at a cow’s rear. Prince harry was a bit of a joke for us along the trip because one of his charity organizations, sentebale, funds mant’sase orphanage in qhalasi, by kyla’s house. Kyla actually got to meet him last October or November. She said she liked his bodyguards. Anyways, he apparently likes rugby, so the boys kept making jokes about how she should subtly suggest a game of rugby now that she knew how to play and the “accidentally” trip and fall on him. After this there should be tea and crumpets, emphasis on crumpets. Apparently this is british slang for an attractive girl. Harry is coming back to Lesotho soon. More updates as they become available.
Without much further ado, we arrived in Windhoek. All the british/Dominican republic people were leaving on an 8 pm flight the next day (Thursday), and kyla and I were going to be in Windhoek until 5:30 Friday, so george booked us at joe’s beerhouse for dinner. Sadly, Barbara opted out, as she had an early flight to Uganda the next day. So we said our goodbyes outside the cardboard box and headed in to clean up for dinner.
I really liked the cardboard box. One of the receptionists in particular was hilarious. She happened to be on staff when kyla and I entered, so it was good to see her again. We said “hey” and then headed for the showers.
Dinner that night was nice. Joe’s is known for it’s game, although I question our waitresses ability to correctly label different slabs of meat. I got a dish that included a large chunk of ostrich beside a large chunk of springbok beside a large chunk of oryk. Look ma, I’m eating meat! There was also some vegetables and potato thingies involved. And a flaming shot glass of some vile liquor. All the while a warthog head was staring down at me from the wall. It was good to see everyone one last time. Except it turned out that it wasn’t one last time. Everyone was going shopping before the flight the next day, so we decided to meet for lunch. I didn’t need to go shopping so I went for a run and then headed for zoo park on the corner of fidel castro st. and independence ave. to listen to music and wait. So we got to meet up once again, and then go shopping for a little while after lunch. Kyla bought a necklace charm of Africa that she had been wanting since she got to Africa. She had just been waiting for the perfect one. So that was exciting for her. And then, they left. I’m kinda jealous of them, actually. They all live relatively close to one another, so it’s easier for them to keep in touch. Hopefully I’ll still be able to stay in contact with them, though. It just makes it that much harder to return to Lesotho. Every vacation I’ve been on I’ve not wanted to return. That’s part of going on vacation I suppose, and of course you have to realize that the vacation wouldn’t stay wonderful forever, and that you wouldn’t appreciate as much if it did continue forever. Still, there are those fleeting, childish thoughts, “what if I just refuse to return?” all volunteers go through these phases, and I’m now at my year-in dip where I’m thinking “I’m here for a whole ‘nother year? Really?” and that seems enormous. I’m sure it will fly by, though. I’m measuring time left by chunks until vacation time. 1-1/2 months ‘til reconnect, then 1 week until independence week, etc. my ‘m’e did a lot to help me feel better, but that’s a story for the next blog.
Anyways, to anyone who was on the trip and who is reading this now, thanks for the wonderful time. Hope you are all well.
ann