Our last improvement was an upgrade to our camp kitchen box. This would be the 3rd generation for us. When we got the new canopy we decided to try a new kitchen box with a lift out floor, where we could stow the house battery underneath and get it out of the engine bay. The first version of this concept was a bit of a false start, I will spare you the frustrating details. This time around, we had the proper box installed by Safari Engineering, but we are particular and elected to do the inside ourselves. Jenny had made the various shelves, brackets and cutlery holders all at home, and we packed them all in our luggage. A day was spent at Urbancamp drilling, bolting and riveting all in place. It is not quite perfect, but a huge improvement from what we had before. 

Here, deep in Kaokoland and all the way at the top of Namibia the Okarohombo Community Campsite gazes across the Kunene river to Angola. It is lovely. In ten days we had to be in Maun, Botswana, to meet our friends for a long planned tandem trip into the Moremi Game Reserve. Maun is 2000km away by road, so we had better get cracking.

To preserve our remaining time before the Maun rendezvous we spent the day driving all the way to Purros, a not insignificant effort. This made for an early start, heading out of the Okarohombo. This would buy us enough time after Purros to see the unique Hoarusib and Hoanib riverbeds.

The drive south through the valley was stunning, the flanks of the hills lit up orange in the morning sun. The main roads in the valley are quite corrugated, but after fixing our incessant rattle the other day we were able to just soak in the scene and our lone vehicle traversed south through the valley. 

At the southern end of the valley we took a right, making for Blue Drum. The other logical route to Purros is via Joubert’s Pass and Marble Mine, but we have driven that route in 2019 and we wanted to check out one of the alternatives. 

After rattling over the same territory that we’d gotten a flat tire near Red Drum a few days ago we had almost made it to Blue Drum before getting yet another puncture. Unbelievable. It was the same front right tire, another sidewall failure near the first. Two more plugs and we were sorted, now with five plugs in that tire alone After all that we made it to Blue Drum and turned south into new territory.

The land is stark, vast and bleak. There is a light dusting of sparse yellow grass, and small scrubby trees dotting shallow depressions that must collect what little water comes this way, nurturing the few trees that manage to survive here. The rest of the barren rock and hills look raw and rough, like they might have been formed yesterday, not millions of years ago.

Partway along our route we saw a Namaqua chameleon crossing the road. His (?) coloring was so incredibly like the rocky environment surrounding him that after he was across the road we lost sight of him a few times even when we had our eyes on him. Their camouflage is so good we might have driven by a 100 other chameleons, but if they weren’t on the road we’d never see them. 

The camouflage on a chameleon is unbelievably good. Here is a test, find the chameleon:

A closer look:

Further south we took a ‘shortcut’ to shave some distance off the route and seek relief for the washboarded roads. This turned out to be no better than the main road, but it did have nice scenery and we saw ostrich, springbok and good birdlife along the way. 

Rejoining the D3707 we were stunned to find it had just been graded and was silky smooth. This fantastic relief didn’t last, but we savored every minute of smoothness, zooming through the rocky basalt plains. Eventually the road degraded and we drove hour upon hour of heavy corrugations. We adjusted tire pressure, adjusted our speed, trying to go fast and slow and everything else, but there was so succor to be had. 

Finally we rolled into Purros, the largest village this far north in the Kunene region. There is a modest shop, sometimes fuel available from drums and fleeting mobile signal from a tiny cell tower. The village is well scattered, mostly along the eastern side of the wide sandy Hoarusib riverbed, which is dry most years.

Desert elephants frequent the area and there are several campsites and a few lodges in the area. We managed to get the last available campsite at the Purros Community Camp. The campsites here are excellent, each with their own ablution, well shaded and with lots of space. The staff warned us to shower soon, as the elephants often dig up and break the water lines, leading to a loss of water supply in the showers. 

Originally we were going to spend two nights at this wonderful spot, but having just spent two nights in the civilized Okarohombo Community Camp we thought we’d push on to the riverbeds. After one night we headed into the village to see if we could get some extra fuel and maybe get one of our bad tires repaired.

On the very short drive into Purros from the campsite our front right tire plugs started to leak, I think a consequence of being cool in the morning. We added a plug to each hole, now a total of seven plugs in that single tire.

The tire situation was obviously dire. The front right tire was in sad shape, and one of our spares had an big sidewall tear, unrepairable even with our liberal plugging policy. Our plans for the next few days had us heading into remote territory, so trying to get that second spare back online was a priority. 

Jenny shopping at the Manchester United shop in Purros.

It was a Sunday, so not the best day to try to find someone to work on tires. In the village we started at the Manchester United Trading Co., one of two small shops. It was chained shut, closed on Sunday. Unless you wanted to buy something. Jenny was invited into the back when we asked about restocking our beer supply.

There was a crude painted sign for ‘tire repair’ and we asked around. Once they learned that we needed the tire to be taken off the rim and patched on the inside he sent the word out and said they would come. In the meantime we asked about fuel, and again the correct person was summoned. He hopped in the cab with us and directed us to the village fuel store room, where we purchased 20 liters of fuel, at $30 Namibian dollars a liter. Not such a bad markup considering its $23N a liter in the cities, and they had to transport it all the way out here. This extra fuel wasn’t essential, but gave us some extra comfort to not have to worry about our range.

A half an hour later a battered pickup rolled up, the tire repair team. The lead man appeared to be a little drunk but was friendly enough. We agreed to his price of $350N (~$20 USD).

The drunk guy wandered off and the rest of the gang took over. We were directed over to a large shady tree that had a manual bead breaker secured to a cement pad in the shade. After quite a bit of hard effort they got the tire off the rim. and found their last remaining tire patch. 

They worked hard, scraping the interior of the tire smooth for the patch with an old sardine tin, gluing the patch in place, inserting the rim and finally using our compressor to reset the bead on the rim, all the while sweating in the mounting morning heat. Our little compressor reset the bead quite easily. I’d always wondered if it would be up to the task and it managed just fine.

Unfortunately after all that the patch didn’t work. I was worried they were going to charge us anyway, since it’s just as much work to fail to patch as it is to patch it, but I think they were worried that we wouldn’t pay. So they did it again. Break the bead. Take the rim out. Clean the inside of the tire more. Re-glue to patch. Reset the bead. Again…it leaked. 

All this time we were having really nice conversations with all the guys, they were super friendly. One worked at the very fancy Shipwreck Lodge, a $1000 a night type of place, out on the coast and he was on his leave rotation. It seems many people from Purros end up working in the lodges in Kaokoland. 

Third time is a charm? The gang insisted at trying again, though they were in their rhythm now and getting faster. On the third attempt…the patch still failed. This was eye opening for us, as I’d always thought that we should learn how to do this and carry some patches, but if these guys who had done this before couldn’t get it to work it was clear that this is not straightforward. 

Their efforts were so impressive and their attitude so good, and we’d had such a good time chatting with them during the process that we paid them their fee anyway. Jenny even tipped them with a six pack of cold beer that we’d just bought at the Manchester United shop and they were incredibly happy.  

Into the Hoarusib

We said our goodbyes to the tire team and headed for the Hoarusib riverbed, with only one good spare and one dodgy tire in service.  

The Hoarusib runs west from Purros through a canyon and eventually to the Atlantic, a little over 50km away. About half of that is through the Skeleton Coast National Park, which you need a permit and guide to enter. 

Leaving Purros, it is only a couple kilometers away that we pointed the Cruiser down the bank and into the deep sand of the riverbed. We aired down the tires, engaged 4×4 and were off, entering the canyon soon after. 

Unlike most of the other riverbeds we’ve driven in Namibia, which have almost always been dry, this one had a shallow stream of water in it, a product of the good rains received last season. The track is well driven, compacted sand that runs roughly parallel to the watercourse, crossing it frequently. Signs of elephant were everywhere, dung and tracks. Alert for elephant we drove cautiously, not wanting to come around a corner and surprise one. 

It was an absolute pleasure to drive the canyon, spectacularly beautiful and rugged and we were all alone. Eventually the canyon narrows to a highlight of this area, the Purros Poort (“gateway” in Afrikaans). This narrow gap in the rocks allows the river, and for us, to pass through. I got out for the obligatory photos and Jenny made a dramatic passage through the gateway. 

Further down the river we saw lion tracks, fantastic. Desert adapted lions live in this part of Namibia and are very rare and under threat. Yet here were crisp fresh tracks in the mud by the side of the road. We never saw them, but almost certainly we drove by them while they were easily hidden from view in the thick brush on either side of the river. It is nice to know they are there. Around here Jenny took the opportunity to take a bush shower, using the river water to conserve our water, while I stayed on lion watch. 

While on lion watch I was assaulted by a sneaky but assertive large biting fly. Several other times in the riverbeds we encountered these annoying insects, always near the swampy areas with water.

The track eventually turns south near the boundary of the Skeleton Coast National Park, adjacent to a fancy lodge with a view of the canyon. Following the track south we began to wonder where we’d camp for the night. 

The road would eventually connect us with the western end of the Hoanib river, which we would drive eastwards. We planned to camp somewhere along the ~70kms between the two rivers. It is dry and rocky between these two rivers. Some old tire tracks headed off the road, and we followed them to a lovely bush camp with a panoramic view at the northern edge of the Geinas Plains. 

It was windy that evening, but after repositioning the car it wasn’t so bad. I began to think I need to take more careful notes on when the windy season is, as the frequent evening winds we’d encountered were disruptive to our camp evenings. 

Getting all the way out here is an endeavor, so we made an effort not to rush out in the morning, savoring our remote surroundings. After coffee and breakfast we hit the road again. Later I notice that I forgot my trusty Melita drip coffee cone at this campsite. I have a bad habit of placing it on a nearby rock to drain before throwing away the filter and grounds. This time we’d driven away without it. 

I know what you’re thinking, how will you make coffee?! Not to worry, we have a spare cone. Also we left plastic in that unspoiled wilderness and I feel bad about it. Jenny and I have resolved to go back to that spot as soon as we can to rescue to coffee cone. I’m confident it will be in the same place I left it. 

Disaster stuck twice this morning. First, the coffee cone. Then, another flat tire. Yeah, another one. This time it was the right rear. Two plugs in this hole did the trick, so now we had seven tire plugs employed in total. Not great. We were far out in the bundu now, but we still had one pristine spare, and the next day we’d make it to Sesfontein. While hardly the big city, we’d be able to come up with some sort of plan there if we had to. 

As we neared the Hoanib the road had several side tracks that seemed worth exploring. One in particular extended beyond any map we had. This road’s general trajectory suggested it would intersect with the western edge of the riverbed track.This route was spectacularly scenic, with the dunes cloaking rocky peaks in tan colored sand, it looked like what I imagine the edge of the Sahara Desert to be.

Into the Hoanib

Our Lawrence of Arabia feelings came to an end as the track dropped down into the wonderful Hoanib riverbed. Again we found ourselves in deep sand and we aired down the tires in the shade of one of the big ana trees. 

Driving eastward we wound through the dry riverbed and saw giraffe, oryx, baboons and springbok. The rest of the day we spent working our way up river, passing wonderful geological formations, huge ana trees and occasional wildlife. Signs of desert elephant were common, but we didn’t spot any. 

This riverbed falls within the Palmwag Concession, and camping less than one kilometer from the river is not allowed. After pouring over our maps we made for the Obias river, a dry tributary of the Hoanib that looked on the map like it would have good wild camping options. 

A spot on the map marked “good bush camp” turned out to be already occupied by a mobile safari operator, but we found an excellent spot another kilometer north, tucked up against the cliff and out of the wind. As dusk fell we enjoyed magical twilight while the sound of barking geckos echoed off the cliffs.  

In the morning we drove off, and heard the dreaded short hiss of one of our tires leaking. This was because the plugs are on the bulge of the sidewall and when the tires were cool, resulting in a bigger bulge and more strain on the plugs. At this point a leaking tire hardly even raises our pulse. We took the unconventional approach of airing up the right side tires (both of which were liberally plugged). This meant two of our tires would be firmer than ideal in the soft sand of the riverbed, but what can I say? It worked.

The Obias Rock Arch, an improbably hole in some not very stable looking rock.

After re-entering the Hoanib riverbed heading east it wasn’t long before the character of the river changed. We began to see stands of tall dense tamarisk and bright green grass. Soon shallow runs of water, this part of the river wasn’t dry. 

As we crossed one of these parts of the river, only a couple inches deep of crystal clear water, we saw lion tracks. Jenny got out to inspect them and found numerous crisp tracks. As we tried to interpret what we were seeing a game drive vehicle came from the nearby Elephant Song Lodge and we showed the guide. He said they hadn’t seen the lions for some time, he thought they were down river, and he was quite excited to see these fresh tracks. 

There is enough shrubbery here that it would be easy to hide a huge pride of lions, but we ventured on optimistically anyway, eyes peeled wide. It wasn’t to be though and we arrived at the eastern end of the riverbed track having seen the signs of lions and elephant, but no actual sightings. 

There is a gate across the track, this being the entrance that most people use to drive the Hoanib. Here we paid for our permit, a bargain at $100 Namibian dollars. Also here was a sign with the rules for driving and camping in this area. There are three other entrances to this route, none with signs, but I suppose it’s a start. Notes on rules/routes in the Nitty Gritty section.

From the gate it wasn’t long before we’d be back on Namibia’s excellent network of graded gravel roads. To get to the D3707 we drove another 15 kilometers through huge swaths of incredibly deep and powdery dust, aka fesh fesh. This heavy dust lies docilely on the ground even if there is some wind, but driving into it is like driving into water. 

The route shattered into dozens of braids, each line weaving in and out of washouts and some with short steep banks. The whole stretch is peppered with pools of fesh fesh, and plunging into some of these threw dust up over the windshield, completely obscuring our view out the cab. We wove back and forth looking for the least dusty route and hoping to not get stuck, for digging out of this would be a miserable affair. 

Thankfully it was short lived and in not long we were onto a recently graded D3707. Back on the good gravel and anticipating higher speeds we finally retired our front tire that had seven tire plugs in it, putting on the BFG KO2. Given that we still had thousands of kilometers to go before the end of our trip we’d finally conceded that we had to get new tires. 

Our plan was to find a nice campsite to relax for a couple days and then make it to Windhoek before the weekend, to get new tires fitted. Since we’d be in civilization we also put a couple more tasks on the list, namely to try once again to get our front diff seal fixed and also to find a replacement window regulator. 

The passenger side window goes down fine, but only goes up under protest, if at all. Sometimes we have to grab the top of the glass and push it aft, to get the mechanism to unjam. This isn’t such a hardship, unless you forgot and rolled the window all the way down and it jammed when you could no longer grab the glass. On more than one occasion this necessitated taking the door apart to lift the glass from the bottom. 

Though there are thousands of this model Land Cruiser plying the tracks of southern Africa, the ones sold outside South Africa are not sold stock with power windows and use a different regulator. We’d had a hard time finding one in stock. 

As we zoomed south one of us drove while the other worked the phone, and via WhatsApp messaging we managed to organize a new set of BFG KO2 tires at 15% off, found a regulator in stock and a reputable mechanic that said that even though the shop was booked four weeks out that they’d try to fix the diff if we brought them the car on Friday. 

Unfortunately the very luxurious Mowani Campsite was fully booked, so we instead stayed at Hais-Ra Campsite, scenically set amongst some huge rocks. This spot was lovely and we had a huge campsite with private ablutions. The rocks towered over the campsite and a little trail allowed us to hike up to the top to watch the sunset, it was really nice. 

Two nights of lounging around was great. We always long for the wild camps and the wilderness but I can’t deny that it is nice to have a designated place for camping. A campsite that provides the basics means no need to occupy any brain space with thoughts of security, safety, where to go to the toilet or wondering is this an appropriate place to camp.

On the way to Windhoek we hit the tar again, the first time in 12 days. We’d driven over 1500 km on dirt, dust, rocks and gravel to the remotest part of Namibia and it really felt like a success. 

Driving at modest speeds, still having a rear tire with sidewall plugs, brought us to Windhoek and straight to the tire shop. We needed to get the tires fitted today so that the workshop could have the vehicle all day the following day for the diff gasket project.

Supertyres did a great job, fitting new BFGs and doing the alignment properly. We’d had the alignment done previously in the trip twice, and both times is wasn’t really correct. That night we looked at the weather forecast for Windhoek, just a few degrees above freezing, and decided to abort to a guesthouse instead of camp in the cold. 

On Friday we dropped the car at Auto Repairs Etzold, a very nice shop that we’d been to before to help solve a minor battery mystery a couple years ago. This well run and organized place specializes in Toyotas and on arrival you are greeted to a sea of Land Cruisers fitted out in every conceivable way, our vehicle looking a little shabby compared to some of the examples on display. 

By the end of the day they had finished the repair. They told us that the previous shops had tightened the bolts, thinking they were fixing the problem, but had instead sheared off the studs. They had a heck of a time getting the sheared fasteners out, but had managed it and replaced the gasket. Quite a job to replace a $10 part. Mr. Etzold also warned us our main drive shaft slip joint was worn and needed to be rebuilt. We described our ambitions for the next six weeks and he thought that as long as we didn’t do any heavy rock crawling that we’d be fine. 

The guesthouse turned out to be not all that great. On top of this the weather wasn’t nearly as cold as forecast, our fear of the cold unfounded. For the second night we moved to Urbancamp, our old stand by, and we were much happier.

The next morning we set out early, headed for Botswana to meet up with our friends in Maun and head into the Moremi Game Reserve and Chobe National Park.

The Nitty Gritty

Marienfluss Camping

Camping options at the top of the Marienfluss Valley are Camp Syncro and the Okarohombo Community Campsite. The price is the same, or nearly so. Both are good and it’s hard to pick between them. I think when we return we might try Syncro again, to help us make up our minds which we prefer. How fantastic is it that this far out in the boonies there are two great campsites to pick from? 

The community campsite has much more room and would be better for big groups or big rigs, but it also has quite a bit less shade, though it does have some if you get your pick of spots. The ablutions here are top notch, hot water from solar showers and good flush toilets, all open air. The view of the river isn’t as good from most of the campsites, but a few have a perfect vista and I imagine that usually you can have your pick of spots.

Camp Syncro – We haven’t been there since 2019. On our visit there had been flooding and the pool was full of sand and the common area was also still suffering from the flooding. The campsite was in perfect condition though. There is a lot less room here, and the campsites are quite close together. The ablutions are also nice here, though darker. The whole campsite is well shaded, but also this muffles light breezes and when we visited (admittedly it was November) it was incredibly hot. 

Between those campsites and Purros there is the very good Marble Mine campsite, but our route took us west of this. In Purros there are several campsites, but we have only used the Purros Community Campsite, which we found excellent. The campsites don’t have much of a view, though the setting is very private and pleasant. 

The water at the community campsite is good borehole water, we filled up our tank and suffered no ill effects. 

Purros

There isn’t much going on in Purros, but there is fuel from drums, just ask around and you’ll be directed accordingly. There are two very modest shops, boasting a huge store of alcohol and hair products but much less in the way of food or other useful sundries. You wouldn’t starve, but do not count on this for provisioning beyond maybe pasta, rice, oil and maize meal. We bought some canned meat (species unspecified) just for fun.

As described, there is tire repair available in Purros, and the world’s most modest cell tower. If you’re standing within 100m you can send/receive WhatsApps and SMS, but that is about it. 

Hoarusib River

The riverbed track is 4×4 only, but is not really a strenuous or technical drive. There is some deep sand, but aired down it is no trouble at all. There are not many, or any, places to camp along the river, but there are a few side tracks that might lead off to appropriate bush camps. Regardless the riverbed track is not that long. We left late, due to our failed tire repair, and still had plenty of time to drive the riverbed and find a place to camp further south.

The track between the Hoarusib and the Hoanib is scenic, desolate and often very very corrugated. In spite of it being kilometer after kilometer of seemingly empty wilderness there are not a tremendous number of places to camp without driving offroad. There are a few good spots right along the road, and traffic is not a problem, or a few side tracks to campsites tucked around a corner. Seasonal winds are a thing here, so be mentally prepared for a stiff evening breeze. 

We found the southern end of this track, just before you reach the Hoanib, to be particularly interesting, and that part has a number of side tracks to explore. One road on T4A had been washed away entirely in last season’s rains. 

Hoanib River

The Hoanib river I think is the most beautiful and hansom of all the Namibian riverbed tracks that we have driven. That there are two high-end lodges along this route tells you something. My understanding is this area is managed by the holders of the Palmwag concession, so it is not a free for all, nor should it be. 

As shown on the rules below, you shouldn’t camp within a kilometer of the river itself. There are still a number of wonderful places that one can camp responsibly even with this rule in place. You can also camp at the Elephant Song Campsite at the eastern end, near the gate.

This track has much more deep sand than the Hoarusib, airing down tires is a must. 

Fuel

From Opuwo to Khorixas we drove 1273 kilometers and used 231 liters of diesel. This made consumption a disappointing 5.5km/liter (or 18.2 liters/100km or 13 mpg (US)). However this did include a lot of deep sand, low range and slow going, not when we shine. I wished we had filled all the way up in Sesfontein to get more accurate numbers, but I think going forward I’ll use 5km/liter for planning for this type of driving. This contrasts quite a bit with our consumption in more mixed conditions, where we average more around 7-7.5km/liter. 

Windhoek Notes

Lodging

We continue to be happy staying at Urbancamp. This time around the forecast was so cold we tried a guesthouse that wasn’t great, and the weather wasn’t even close to as cold as forecast. In the future we will stay at Urbancamp even in the winter. And they have a winter specials menu at the restaurant that is great.

Workshop

Auto Repairs Etzold (ARE) is now our preferred shop. They are always booked out for weeks and they’re not cheap. However, we have been told by every Toyota shop on our entire trip (Mbeya, Nakuru, Kigali and…?) that they have fixed our front diff seal or that it’s not a problem and none of them have actually fixed it. When I called ARE and told them our problem, the front diff gasket was leaking, they said they were booked out for weeks, but that their workshop manager would ‘make a plan.’ And he did! They have our loyalty. They also deal in genuine Toyota parts. They told us they had such a hard time getting reliable supply from Johannesburg that they now deal directly with Japan. They were able to supply the window regulator, and at a lower markup than Toyota, and they had it in stock.

Taxis

If you need a taxi in Windhoek (say, if you’re car is at the shop) I recommend downloading the “Lefa” app. Namibia doesn’t have Uber, but Lefa is more or less the same thing. Only better, because you don’t need a credit card linked to it. You can use it to request a taxi, or if there are no taxis available (as happened to us) when you find a non Lefa taxi you can show them the Lefa price for the route and they’ll accept it, no haggling required. We found the pricing very competitive.

Provisioning 

We used to go to the Grove Mall in southeast Windhoek. This has an Outdoor Warehouse for any 4×4 needs, and a well stocked Super Spar. An unappreciated problem with provisioning in these big cities is where the heck to park a vehicle that is ~2.4 or 2.5 meters high, a critical threshold. Almost all parking garages are 2.4 meters clearance, but how well did the contractors really measure that out? The Grove has outdoor parking and still makes you drive under a 2.4m boom, which we clear by millimeters. 

Now we go to the Spar in Klien Windhoek, which involves much less driving across town. It is right near Deluxe Coffeworks, which sells excellent coffee. On Nelson Mandela Rd between the Spar and Urbancamp is an outdoor produce market that also sells firewood and charcoal, all your provisioning needs right near the campsite.  

Note: We have finished our trip and are back home in California. I will continue to update the blog through the end of our trip.

Morning came to our wild camp with warm yellow sunlight and distant sounds of livestock and people. There must have been Himba living nearby. Though we never saw them it’s further proof that you are rarely alone in Africa, even when you think you are. To us this camp was deep in solitary wilderness on an unmapped and barely known road, but to the Himba living here this is of course home. Before packing up we were careful to burry our ash and leave no trace of our campsite.

Thankfully the rest of the conservancy road wasn’t as steep and technical as the short stretch we’d done the day before. It plodded downward across the shoulders of rocky ravines and through sandy riverbeds at mostlypolite gradients. The rest of the route was easy to follow, with obvious tire tracks and it became particularly picturesque towards the end for the final descent into the Marienfluss. 

Along the way we were thinking that maybe Mr. Van Zyl kinda’ blew it, since this route seems to have a lot less up and down than the famous Van Zyl’s Pass, and requires less technical driving. I still can’t believe he did that in a Model-T ford, though he had a team of Himba laborers to clear the way for him.

Right at the very end of the track there are two short steep sections, off camber and barely more than a car length long, but manageable. Afterwards we joked how embarrassing it would be to roll the car just 20 meters from the end of the road.

Just like that we were into the southeast corner of the Marienfluss. It was hazy and the rocky hills flanking the sandy floor of the valley faded in the distance, creating an illusion of the valley going on forever. 

On a good track we proceeded until we finally were back on mapped roads, joining just below where Van Zyl’s Pass enters the valley. We have been to the Marienfluss before so we decided to drive west to the more remote Hartman’s Valley first, and then hopefully take the formidable “shortcut” road from Hartman’s into the Marienfluss. 

This would cost us more fuel, but when exploring remote places we figured it’d be best to start with the most remote part and work towards the more traveled areas, should we have any problems we’d at least accomplish the furthest reaches of our goals and/or if we did get stuck, we’d have the greatest amount of supplies to wait for help.

There is some vagueness about how much of Hartman’s Valley one is actually allowed to visit. Part of Hartman’s is a private concession held by Wilderness Safaris. I had a vague notion that approaching from the west might allow us to see more of the valley before encountering any “Do not enter” signs. We were careful to not trespass on the concession.See route notes in Nitty Gritty section. 

Once into the valley we zoomed along sandy tracks, very happy to find golden grass. In our previous visits it had been parched desert, just red sand and the Himba had abandoned the area due to lack of fodder for their animals.

Two spoor tracks in red sand wove through an attractive carpet of yellow grass and it was wonderful to finally be here. The sharp contrast between the steep and rocky roads to get here and the easy cruising along flats of valley makes it feel like a proper arrival, not just a gradual change. Cutting southwest we headed towards the famous landmark of Rooidrom (Afrikaans for Red drum). 

The road became more rocky here, though not technical, and I noticed the vehicle was riding strangely. We stopped and found the left rear tire flat, with a bad sidewall tear, unrepairable with tire plugs. 

A Note on Tires and Preparation for Remote Travel

Kaokoland is famous for being hard on tires. Our tires, Cooper S/T Maxx’s (265/75/R16) are excellent tires that have brought us through Kaokoland two previous times with nary a whisper of complaint. This particular set of tires was getting tired and we contemplated replacing them prior to coming here, knowing they’d be tested. On the other hand, getting all new tires is expensive, and with only a couple months to go on our trip we’d rather wait until the next trip for a fresh set. This in mind, we resolved to milk this set for all their worth. It would be their third run to Kaokoland, more than any tire deserves to be asked. This turned outnot to be a good plan.

You might recall that we got another unrepairable puncture way back in Uganda. Since then we cruised around with only one spare, the other just riding along on the wheel carrier waiting for replacement. This is all well and good when we weren’t traveling anywhere very remote. We made a couple half hearted attempts to find a replacement earlier, but their costs in Zambia was so much higher than further south we deferred until Botswana. In Maun I failed to find any brand of tire in our size at any shop. On a second pass through Maun we finally found a replacement for the tire damaged in Uganda, a BFG KO2, Coopers being unavailable. Our brand loyalty to Coopers was based on them being the best off-road tire we’ve ever used. Mind you, they’re also the only off-road tires we’ve ever used, so that isn’t much of a sample size. 

This meant we had five tired Coopers and one pristine BFG as a spare. Well, now we had four tired Coopers, one destroyed one, and one good BFG. In the months preceding this I have spent many an hour on the road telling Jenny (a captive audience) that we need to figure out how to shave more weight from the Land Cruiser, and the most obvious way to do this is to go to a single spare tire. I went on at length about the benefits of a single spare, about how tire technology has improved such that two spares was now overkill, etc. I can tell you that now that we were way out in the hinterland of the Kaokoland down a tire that I was mum on that subject, two spares now seeming like an excellent plan.

Lest you think us idiots for heading to Hartman’s valley with dodgy tires, I assure you the rest of our preparations were up to snuff. We carry: a Satphone and emergency phone numbers; medical evacuation coverage for even the remotest of regions; an extensive first aid kit; Jenny has wilderness first responder medical training; 210 liters of fuel; numerous spare parts (filters, belts, radiator hoses, alternator brush kit, Chilton’s repair manual, engine manual, extensive tool kit, epoxy putty, various lubricants for oil, brakes, gearbox, etc.); paper maps, two sets of electronic maps (offline phone maps and GPS); and plenty of food & 85 liters of water, enough to wait quite a while for help if need be. 

Back to the story…

Why this tire survived the torture of the previous day’s rocky ravines and this morning’s rugged trail only to give up the ghost on this relatively sedate section of gravel road is a mystery. Regardless, the even terrain made it an easy place to change a tire so I’m not complaining. 

Springing into action we changed the tire, no big deal. Except now we were only on Day 2 of our explorations and we were down to one spare, but what are the chances that we’d get another? There was some discussion of aborting, but we decided to wait until we’d used our good spare before calling a retreat.

This brought us to Rooidrom, an old 50 gallon oil drum placed as a landmark, painted red. Also an ideal lunch stop. During our meal a Himba woman, toddler on her hip, appeared out of nowhere and offered to sell us some bracelets. After we declined she put down her child and disrobed him, showing us his alarmingly inflamed penile tip. She spoke no english, and us no Ovahimba, but clearly she was looking for medical assistance. This was outside our training for sure, but Jenny hazarded a guess at a post circumcision infection, though we don’t know what the Himba traditions are on that front. Careful not to offer anything that could be overdosed, such as painkillers, Jenny instead gave her a tube of antibiotic ointment and pantomimed daily application. The Himba woman was extremely grateful and sat down right there to do the first treatment. The child was admirably stoic, it looked very painful. 

As we set off she kept trying to sell us bracelets, and only later did it occur to us that she might in fact have been offering them as a gift for helping her child. After this realization we felt bad for rejecting her offer. In the book Life is Like a Kudu Horn author Jacobsohn recounts how her Himba friends in Purros chided her for always “being so high,” meaning she would help them some way and then decline when they tried to help her in return. Jacobsohn hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their friendship, but inadvertently made them feel forever in debt.* We wondered if we were now guilty of the same thing with the woman we helped. 

*I hope I have characterized her nuanced story accurately

West from Rooidrom there are other drums to mark various crossroads. Bloudrom (Blue drum), which has some amusing signage, Oranjedrom (Orange drum), and finally the most remote of all, Groendrum (Green drum). Here there is a notebook where people have signed their names and where they come from as well as a dropbox of sorts. Jenny signed us in and we inspected the box. It contained offerings to the next travelers, a couple cigarettes and some other odds and ends. We contributed a can of Windhoek lager to some future traveler with a thirst. 

The sign at Blue Drum is a South African joke. “Load shedding” is when the power company lacks enough capacity and turns off power to various neighborhoods. The satellite dish is also fake.

Somewhere on this route Jenny called a stop, noticing a plastic piece on the side of the road. On these rough tracks it’s not all that rare to find the odd piece of car, a shock absorber, a number plate, a muffler, or most commonly a cracked off plastic cowling from near the bumpers or fenders. This time Jenny had spotted a hubcap matching ours, aha! As we’ve lost two of our own on previous rough roads it only seems fair that we gain one. You know you have a common car when you find a spare part by the side of the road and can just pop it on your vehicle.

At Green drum we turned north onto the most western road to Harman’s valley. A stiff breeze was blowing, whipping sand into the air and making it pretty inhospitable, causing some concern for where we would camp tonight. 

Heading north towards Hartman’s valley is committing to wild camping, for there are no formal campsites up here. Our criteria for wild camping in this setting is most importantly to leave no trace, i.e. pack out all trash, burry all human waste, burn any toilet paper, and burry any ash if we have a fire. We also do not make any new tire tracks, not wanting to add any additional ecological impact, and we use campsites that have been previously used, so the area doesn’t just end up with campsites all over the place. 

With this in mind we headed north. The road was very wide and corrugated, previous travelers having sought relief from the violent corrugations at the verges of the road, thus contributing to its ever widening swath. We resolved to accept our punishment and not further the widening, shaking and shuddering our way north. 

The vastness of this area was hard to grasp. Wind had stirred up a dusty haze, but still to say this is “big sky country” is an understatement. In the distance dunes flanked us to the west, the inland edge of Skeleton Coast National Park. To the east craggy rust red rocks formed a formidable ridge that is the western edge of Hartman’s valley. This western road, north of Green Drum, is actually not in the valley, but on the shoulder between the valley and the coast.

Other than the overly wide corrugated track, I was impressed that up here, where there are no rangers, supervision of tourists or rules posted, that people seemed to have mostly stuck to the main road and not made a zillion side tracks. The land is mostly flat and off-roading would be easy. Sticking to the road we headed north and started looking for a campsite. 

Normally our wild camping criteria include “not visible from the main road,” but here we felt it was more important to not make any new ecological impact. With that in mind we followed some tire tracks to a wonderful crescent shaped dune not far off the road that sheltered us, mostly, from the brisk wind and provided a very atmospheric spot. Out here at the end of the earth the evening was magical.

Having worked hard to come all this way we didn’t want to rush onward, so we had a slow start to the morning, savoring our desert isolation. The wind had died. Now it was still and the silence complete and absolute, so rare in our world these days. The remote vastness was hard to comprehend, forbidding and foreboding, an agoraphobic’s nightmare. 

Heading out in the morning we found that our footsteps from exploring the dunes the evening before had been entirely erased by the wind, and even our tire tracks were on their way to disappearing. 

This western road proved to have plenty of nooks and crannies to explore. Several side tracks not on our map let us wander north and make our own private discoveries, such as some some improbably located trees; one of the lone men of the Kaokoveld and a spot who’s geology looks similar to the famous Spitzkoppe. Five springbok appeared, hearty antelope that are able to live in this environment. Wildlife is rare out here and seeing springbok, so common elsewhere, was just as special as seeing a lion in Moremi.

Also there was grass on these sandy plains. Grass may seem mundane, but in the desert grass is life to the animals that live here. Many seasons might pass with no rain, but this year’s rains had delivered and at least some grass had grown.  At first we saw a sparse yellow-green peach fuzz, but it thickened here and there and made for a wonderful scene.

Later in the afternoon we found another old campsite, a scenic nook in the rocks with a view of the valley. This turned out not to be the best spot. As evening approached the canyon funneled the wind at great velocity, sand whipping up into the air. After our chairs and table started blowing over we retreated to the cab, reading our books in the front seats. Finally we gave up, retreating to the tent with a few snacks for dinner. 

The corrugations started to claim various victims, starting with the latch on our tent. Temporarily fixed with twine.

Right around when we’d finished our unexciting meal the wind died completely. The moon was up, nearly full. The sky was so clear and the moon so bright that I could see colors by moonlight, the red of the sand and the yellow grass out in the valley. It was stunning. 

In the morning we dropped into Hartman’s valley proper near Hartman’s Junction. The valley is extraordinarily unique in its beauty. To the north we could see the tall and extremely rugged grey mountains of Angola looking mysterious and imposing. On the Namibian side of the river that forms the border there were big tan sand dunes, to the east another monster dune of red sand and rugged peaks.

From that lookout we could see a huge swath of the valley. Our eyes were greeted with a pastel pallet, red and pink and tawny sand, tall stands golden grass as wispy as an old man’s beard, and in a few magical spots life giving grass as green as an emerald. In the binoculars we could see oryx and ostrich grazing in this green grass. 

The views were sweetness to the eyes and Jenny and I agreed that it was one of the most striking places we have ever visited. It was frustrating that the private concession made so much of it off limits to us, but we were grateful to see what we could. Hartman’s impressed me enough that I would actually consider paying to stay at the Wilderness lodge just so that we could see the rest of the valley. 

As we were dropping back down to Hartman’s Junction we saw a rental 4×4 speeding north. We stopped to watch, wondering if they would drive past the “Private Concession, No Entry,” sign at the junction. They didn’t, and we ended up chatting with them for a while. 

After a congenial conversation we said our goodbyes and they pulled away. As they drove off I heard the telltale shh-shh-shh-shh of a punctured tire, hissing at each revolution. I wanted to go back and tell them they had a flat, until I realized it was us. 

Day four in Kaokoland and our second flat tire. I got out to survey the tire, Jenny rolling slowly forward until the hiss of the leak revealed the location. It was another sidewall tear. I went for the tire plugs and Jenny told me, “You can’t repair a sidewall with a plug.”

Conventional wisdom is that sidewall tears can’t be fixed with tire plugs. Of course we’d heard this, but I suspected that this was because of the danger of a high speed blowout on a sidewall repaired with a plug, not that the plug wouldn’t stop the leak in the first place. A Google search will return a trove of “it can’t be done” results, all of which are wrong. Can’t and shouldn’t being the operative words here. Since we’d rarely achieve the lofty speeds of even 3rd gear over the next few days we figured the blowout danger was negligible and we’d give it a try. 

Lathering up the plug with contact cement, I pushed the plug in with the T-handle. Jenny rolled forward again to test it and a hiss revealed we’d failed. Remembering a time where we brought a tire to a shop that a plug failed to fix and all they did was put in a second plug, we thought we’d try again. After installing a second plug, hiss again. Third times a charm? Yes, yes it was, three plugs did the trick. Even if it didn’t last we figured we save our last good spare tire for a little longer. 

Heading south and out of the valley we watched that tire carefully and kept checking the pressure. It was holding. We passed the airstrip and took the eastern most road, heading towards an unnamed pass between the two valleys, which we took to calling “Hartman’s Pass.” 

The terrain south and east changes. We were out of the valley now, making our way between shallow ridges of pale chunky rocks and driving through, over and around dry riverbeds. Settlements, small clusters of a few huts, are here and there and women were tending to children in the thin shade of the occasional lone tree near their simple homes. We wave and they wave back. Herders tended goats or cattle, sometimes very far from their homes.

In the late afternoon we made camp on the bank ofa long dry riverbed some distance from the road. Just before we were headed to bed we saw the headlights of a car in the distance and we wondered who would be driving this rough track in the dark. Eventually he passed a few hundred meters from us and Jenny picked out the silhouette in the moonlight. It was an open safari car like the ones used for game drives. We supposed that the Wilderness Lodge had dispatched this driver to bring some essential, or perhaps a replacement vehicle, and they were doing the drive at night. Whoever it was they sure had a long way to go before reaching the lodge. 

The crossing over “Hartman’s Pass” is a rough track and we got on the road fairly early in case we found that we had to go the long way around into the Marienfluss. By this time we were able to drain the fuel in our jerry cans into the main tank, getting all that weight off the roof prior to tackling this pass. 

On the way a man came jogging over to us and asked us for water, speaking unusually good english. He said that he’d walked all the way from the village in the Marienfluss to his kraal here. This seemed less like the common opportunistic “tourist give me something because you can,” and more like a genuine request and we gave him a bottle of water. I asked him if the gate was open on the pass and he said it was. (There is a steel gate, sometimes padlocked, that blocks this pass at times. I don’t know who manages this gate or why/when it gets locked).

The gate being open was good news, removing one more uncertainty from the day. Arriving at the pass we got out to inspect the first technical pitch. While here a Himba woman herding some goats approached us and tried to tell us it was 100 Namibian dollars to use the pass. We demurred, confident there was no toll, and she continued to watch us. As we began to stack some rocks in the steepest of holes to make passing down this part of track easier, she leapt to assist us. After the road building was done Jenny directed me down this pitch. At the end we gave the Himba woman some food in return for her help. 

There were two more technical sections of this pass, the rest of it is just rocky and slow going, but it was very scenic as the track snakes through rocky clefts and ravines. At the next pitch we were surprised to meet some other travelers headed the opposite direction. As we had already started down they kindly parked off to the side and helped us pass this section.

Anyone care to identify this little guy we found under one of the rocks we used?

From there it was smooth sailing. Astonishingly the sidewall of our thrice plugged tire had stood up to the rocky pass. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves in the Marienfluss Valley, which is scenically superb, and also has very different character than Hartman’s. 

The other challenge for the morning was a damnable rattle that we had been unable to track down was back. On these corrugated tracks it was driving us totally bananas. We thought it was inside the door somewhere, but we had taken the door apart many times before to try to find it and always failed. 

This was particularly aggravating today, ruining our triumphant return to the Marienfluss. At a small tree we pulled over to make yet another attack at this problem. While Jenny worked on the door I took yet another gander under the hood to see if I’d missed anything. And, lo! The smoking gun. The bracket that carries the auxiliary battery had torn out of the body of the car. This wasn’t great news, but finding it was an immense victory. 

With a new nut Jenny managed to reach far up inside the fender and we secured the bracket in place. On our test drive we were rewarded with sweet merciful silence. At least if you discount all the other rattles, for these washboard roads have probably never seen a grader and are badly corrugated. 

At the head of the valley we camped at the community campsite. It’s a big swath of sand along the riverbank, with a couple big ana trees providing some shade. Since our arrival in the valleys the weather had turned hot and we were reveling in it, such a change from the cold temps in the Kalahari and the windy & cool coastal climate of Swakopmund. We sought out the campsite at the very end, which had shade all day, a wonderful view of the river, and Angola’s mountains dominating on the opposite bank.

Sadly swimming in the river isn’t advisable due to the crocodiles. Though locals do use the river for washing and bathing, we saw them doing so with caution, no carefree splashing around in the water. The community campsite had wonderful open air ablutions, with solar heated hot water. The whole campsite was immaculately clean and organized and the woman who came by to check on us periodically was very friendly. I was sad that there were no other guests here. 

Friends of ours were flying into Maun to meet us in ten days, so we couldn’t dally too long. There was still more exploring to be done before we made our way back to Botswana. After two nights we hit the road, heading south towards the village of Purros and the Hoarusib and Hoanib riverbeds. 

The Nitty Gritty

Unmapped Route into the Marienfluss

I had read about this route on the 4x4community.co.za forum, referenced in two posts in the Namibia section, here and here. One poster said it was a “good road” and they drove it out, from the valley to Otjithanda. Jenny and I spent quite a bit of time discussing the various routes into the valley, and we both agreed that you could drive this out, but we would rather not unless we really had to. There was in particular one steep section with a lot of loose rocks that without a lot of road building effort would risk to damage of diffsand other underparts. I’m sure others are more adventurous on this front. I suspect the rains this season may have degraded the track.

Our ranking of the routes in/out of the valley, from easiest to hardest:

1. Western route via D3707 and Blue drum. We haven’t driven all of the several variations on this route, but as we understand they’re not technical, however are super corrugated at times. Make sure your vehicle is up to the beating of the corrugations. I read online of someone driving this route and their spare tire fell off the rear of the vehicle entirely and it was never seen again. After this discovery they turned back, not wanting to continue without the spare. 
2. Joubert’s Pass (aka Rooidrom Pass). Can be taken from the south (D3707, corrugations) or from the East, via Etanga and the D3703. This Etanga side is rocky and slow going, and excepting one steep section is not technical. That one pitch isn’t so bad, we just used 1st gear low range and then there is no drama. Joubert’s Pass looks terrible, like a tire torture test, but the risk of damage to the vehicle is negligible, just go slow and try not to damage your sidewalls. The track is mostly very narrow, meaning you don’t have to worry about what line to take, there is really only one choice, just drive slow and watch your tires.
3. Unmapped Marienfluss Conservancy road. Could be driven both ways, but we are happy to only drive it east to west, descending. Mostly really nice, but there is one steep and rocky section that we didn’t like, and a few short manageable sections that you need to pay attention. 
4. Van Zyl’s Pass. Awesome views, mostly rocky track with several “cruxes” that require a lot of attention and care. Risk of damage to the vehicle is very real. One way only, east to west. 

Jenny thought that Joubert’s Pass might be harder than the Unmapped road, but after deliberated on this for a while and we decided that it appears bad, but there are fewer steep gradients and loose rocks, so ranked it narrowing easier than the new road.

Hartman’s Valley

Before our trip I emailed Wilderness for details on where their concession is and they responded with a not unfriendly but somewhat vague answer: ”Please note that I unfortunately do not have the map with the exact area at the moment. However, it does stretch from the Hartmanns Valley Airstrip to the camp with no access to the river as this is part of our exclusive area. The only place West of camp you can get to the river is at the waterfall, which may also be part of our  exclusive area – though it is difficult to say at this point in time”

In practice we saw no “do not enter” signs on the western road. This road is not in the valley, but higher up, between the western flank of the valley and the Skeleton Coast National Park. I suspect this road is allowed to transit, even though T4A marks it as “no access.” I don’t know why T4A has this marked thus, maybe just to keep things simple. 

Within the valley we saw “do not enter, private concession” signs at Hartman’s Junction, which is north of the airstrip. We saw no signs at the airstrip forbidding travel north, though there are several roads here so maybe we missed those. Interestingly we did see a sign saying “No entry” to the south from here. How this sign is supposed to apply is unclear to me. If you can’t drive the road heading south, then how would you get to the airstrip to see the sign in the first place? 

I had also scoured the internet for hours looking for a map, and emailed several other sources (including the Ministry of Environment and Tourism, the Marienfluss Conservancy) to no avail. We felt we’d done our due diligence and abided by the “Do Not Enter” signs we felt we visited the valley responsibly. Most importantly we didn’t want to violate the exclusive area and lead to reduced access for future visitors.

While driving a few tracks that lead up to a viewpoint west of the valley we saw a Wilderness Safari vehicle and the guide just waved at us, which we took to mean we had successfully stayed out of the concession.

In contrast to our previous visits we saw other travelers every day during our time in Kaokoland, so even though it is very far “out there” I suspect that during this time of year you’d be able to find help sooner than you think.

Crossing the border into Namibia felt like a little like victory. Even though our trip is not over yet (we fly home in September) we were, more or less, coming full circle from where we had departed last October. The goal now was to spend some time up in the remote Kunene region, in the very northwest of the country. 

With that in mind we put in a long day to make it to a lovely campsite called Eagle’s Rest, attached to a fancy lodge on the oldest game farm in Namibia. It was immaculate luxury camping and we had the place to ourselves. Antelope grazed in front of camp and we took wonderfully hot showers.

The Khowarib Schlucht

In the morning we pushed on again, stopping in Outjo to provision, fuel and for coffee and pastries from the excellent Outjo bakery. Departing town we made for the Khowarib Schlucht (don’t ask me how to pronounce it). The Khowarib is one of the many seasonal riverbeds in Namibia, usually dry but for occasional periods of flood after rain. 

The Khowarib would be a nice warm up for the main event, the Marienfluss Valley, Hartman’s Valley, and the Hoarusib and Hoanib riverbeds of Kaokoland. We found it miraculous that a day after crossing into Namibia we turned off the tar and after 20 kilometers of sandy gravel tracks we found ourselves driving in a deep sandy riverbed, totally alone in the wilderness.

Following the riverbed towards the sea, we had to air the tires down very low, (1.0, 1.5 bar) and the Cruiser churned down deep sand tracks, the low down torque of the 1HZ engine right at home.The riverbank flanked us with stands of mopane trees, their lung shaped leaves fluttering in a light breeze, and gold grass was fairly thick amongst the bushes and small meadows. This was a contrast to our previous visits to Namibia, where years of drought had left the land parched and nearly devoid of any grass. At that time even the hearty desert dwelling oryx, that can survive without water, were starving to death.

The Khowarib was very scenic and we also started to see a favorite from previous visits, the huge ana trees,faidherbia albida, that grow in these watercourses. They can stand up to 30 meters high, a huge tree resembling an acacia. Frequently giraffe browse on these trees, and the underside of the boughs are trimmed perfectly flat, putting any landscaper to shame.

This area is in one of Namibia’s many conservancies, community based conservation networks that accommodate the local population as well as promoting wildlife and nature conservation. Conservancies are unfenced, for the most part require no permits to enter, but still are home to wildlife. Elephants, giraffe, oryx, springbok, steenbok, leopard, cheetah, lion, hyenas, jackals and more all inhabit these wild lightly managed spaces. This makes it all the more alluring to us.

Jenny drove us through many kilometers of deep sand. With the tires aired down so low and good driving technique we didn’t get stuck and were able to enjoy the surrounds of this wilderness. It was hard to believe I was buying us flakey meat pies at a bakery a few hours ago, one of the great things about Namibia.

Towards evening we found a place on the riverbank for the night, wild camping in the bush. The river might remain dry for years at a time, but it seemed the river must have run in last season’s rains. There was debris piled up against the trunks of all the ana trees and shrubs and small trees swept over sideways still green with leaf.

These debris piles made for ample firewood, and we enjoyed an absolutely wonderful evening in the bush. It was a chilly night and in the morning I even rekindled the coals from last night and we had a decadent morning fire. The day’s goals were not so ambitious and we didn’t have to rush. 

The night before I had noticed that what I dreaded had transpired, the canopy had cracked yet again. It seems the repairs made in Maun did not hold up, which in hindsight is not all that surprising, but I had hoped. 

This put something of a pall over the morning for me as we both mulled the implications. Could we really go into the remote Marienfluss, days from any help, with a cracked canopy? We resolved to continue onward Opuwo, our last provisions and fuel stop, and make the decision there. I was kicking myself for not taking advantage of the time Jenny had been away to find a shop that could have made proper repairs when it would have been less disruptive. Hindsight is 20/20.

For today’s explorations we drove onward in the Khowarib, and ducked south into an area called Klein Serengeti. The continent seems to be inundated with areas named klein and ndogo (small) Serengeti, but this one was actually true to form. It was a stunningly beautiful huge grass plain, with meter high tall golden grass. Springbok moved through the veld in the distance. 

This is just the sort of territory that warrants the grass seed net. Jenny dug the net out and we rigged it over the grill, to keep the cruiser from sucking all the fine seeds into the radiator and overheating. The middelmannetjie, the Afrikaans word for the hump in the middle of rutted two spoor track, was tall grass full of seeds. In most of the parks we visit the tracks are driven enough that all the seeds have already been stripped off and the risk is at a minimum, but this road was clearly rarely driven.

I blithely assured Jenny that the Cruiser was not the sort of vehicle that picked up grass underneath, for this is another risk. Dry grass gets torn off by snagging on the undercarriage, and the grass stuck by the exhaust can catch fire. Many a vehicle has been lost from this simple problem. In the past we have followed the sage advice, to stop and clear the grass from under the car periodically, but in the past we have never found any grass sticking up there, thus my assurances.

After 20 minutes of Klein Serengeti grass passing under the car it seemed prudent to check anyway. As I got out huge crickets sprung out of the grass, clicking unhappily at my intrusion as they went. I peered under the car and found it full of grass. Whoops. Lesson learned. Three times we stopped in less than 20 kilometers to clear out thick heaps of grass from around the exhaust, the differentials and everywhere else. 

After this scenic diversion we re-entered the Schlucht. More ana trees and tall washed out riverbanks. More mopane and scenic tracks. Giraffe tracks were evident in the sand, but we didn’t see any.

Further down the Khowarib river joins the Hoanib riverbed. Just before this confluence the river is flanked with huge dramatic cliffs. Here we stopped in the shade of a huge ana tree for lunch, and I noticed another crack in the canopy. We didn’t admit it at the moment, but this is when I think we both realized that we couldn’t continue into Kaokoland, we needed to divert and get the canopy repaired properly.

Following the Hoanib downriver we found some water in the riverbed. Tracks from previous vehicles were etched in the damp sand so we figured it must be drivable. In other parts of Namibia there is actual quicksand (quicksand, the fears of my youth come alive!), but the relatively fresh tire tracks seemed to indicate that wasn’t a problem here. 

After more dramatic kilometers the riverbed becomes un-drivable and the trail pops out onto a track flanking the river. Originally we were going to camp at the Khowarib Community Campsite or Ongongo Waterfall Campsite, but given our canopy repair needs we pushed on to Camp Aussicht, recommended by many and closer to Opuwo.

Camp Aussicht (“view” in German) is deep in the hills, run by a German who has settled here long ago. It’s sort of an eccentric place and was a nice spot to land and figure out what the heck we were going to do. At the recommendation of one of the staff we settled into campsite No. 4, which has a stunning view to the west and of sunset. 

Abort!

That night we grilled chicken and mushrooms over coals and schemed on our canopy strategy. There was a hint of cell signal here and we were able to draft and email off inquiries to various shops on whether they had time in their shop schedule to make repairs. It was Sunday night, so hopefully they’d see those emails first thing Monday morning.

Jenny was wonderfully upbeat about this turn of events, another chapter in the adventure. I was feeling pretty downtrodden, having failed previous attempts at this, and being painfully aware of how difficult aluminum is to repair. Thank goodness for her good attitude. 

In the morning we sped up to Opuwo to find decent internet and see if we could come up with a plan. In Opuwo we landed at the Kaokoland Cafe, which has wifi. Funny enough this is the same cafe that we landed at in March 2020, when the world was shutting down for covid, to abort our trip and book the very last commercial flight out of Namibia. We’ve taken to calling this the ‘Crisis Cafe’ instead of the Kaokoland Cafe. 

Happily several shops emailed us back. Again we were surprised at how many people are willing to put other work aside to help travelers on the road. After a few phone calls we agreed that Oryx Aluminum was the most promising shop for our job, and they were willing to take us as soon as we could get to their facility in Swakopmund. 

Swakopmund is a long haul from Opuwo though, but in Namibia the only places in the whole country that can repair aluminum properly are Swakopmund and Windhoek. Both of these are a full day’s drive. At this rate it’d cost us as much in fuel to make the repair as it would to pay the shop, but we had no choice. Doing the repair in Swakopmund had another benefit, that I had not been there before (Jenny had visited with a friend) and that it wasn’t so dang cold as Windhoek. Windhoek is at a fairly high elevation and temperatures were barely above freezing at night.

Pushing south we overnighted at the Palmwag Loge & Campsite. It was mostly gravel roads to get here, and all but the last hour or so had been in immaculate condition. Yet even the harsh corrugations of the last kilometers had taken their toll and more cracks had showed up in the canopy. It certainly meant we’d made the right call by aborting.

From Palmwag we made the drive to Swakopmund, and to salvage a bit of adventure we took the road through Skelton Coast National Park. It is free to transit the park and only marginally longer than the other route. 

After signing in at the gate and getting our free transit permit we dropped down in elevation on the lonely road to the coast. At the coast we found an offshore wind blowing hard across a bleak landscape. Sand whipped over bleak flats along the road and it was bitingly cold. The ocean water here is cold due to the Benguela current sweeping water north from the southern ocean. The environment on the Skeleton Coast is inhospitable to say the least.

Driving south we stopped a few times, but it was cold, windy and uninviting. Partway there is a campsite, where we saw a few diehard fishermen camped out, paying a pricey 400 rand pp to be sand blasted and frozen by the cutting wind. No thank you.

I suppose the Skeleton Coast has a certain bleak novelty, but for the life of me I can’t digest why it is on the itinerary of so many two-week self drive vacationers. To us Namibia has many more unique attractions that rank higher if you have limited time.

Swakopmund

To make the repairs would take at least two days, and they had to remove the canopy from the vehicle entirely. Jenny had found an inexpensive little apartment at the Mole Guesthouse, and when we arrived in Swakopmund we promptly checked in and unloaded the entire contents of the vehicle into our temporary abode.

That evening we tried to have a sundowner at the Tiger Reef, famous for its ocean view. Instead we had a beer while our teeth were chattering due to the freezing wind, 20 knots blowing across the tables and chilling us to the bone. Instead we went to The Tug restaurant, a classy-ish place made in the skeleton of an old Tugboat. Without a reservation we managed to get a table in the wheelhouse, very atmospheric. 

In the morning we met Andre, owner of Oryx Aluminum. He took a look at the canopy and was pretty skeptical in the beginning at the possibility of repair, but after we talked through the problem for a while he began to warm to the challenge of helping us complete our trip. We left him the keys and crossed our fingers.

This left us without the cruiser, and therefore we were somewhat at a loss. I’d seen some photos online that one fine activity you can do in Swakopmund is take a scenic flight over the desert. Andre concurred, but said it’s not worth it unless you do the long one all the way to Sossusvlei. It’s not cheap, but we went for it anyway and it didn’t disappoint. 

It’s a six seater aircraft, (a Cessna 210), and they divide the cost among the passengers. Lucky for us they had a flight with two remaining seats, meaning we’d get the cheapest possibly flight, still steep at 4800 NAD ($285 USD). This is very expensive, but other than doing a five day guided drive across the desert, which costs much more, we felt this was the only way to see the Namib.

The flight was 2 hours 10 minutes long, inside the very loud (they gave us quality earplugs), stuffy and hot aircraft in cramped and uncomfortable seats. It was also fantastic. It is hard to imagine any other way to start to comprehend the vast beauty of the desert other than seeing it from the air. 

The pilot flew the standard route, but dropped the plane right to the deck on numerous occasions, and highlights included seeing zebra, vultures on a kill, the unbelievable sea of dunes, shipwrecks and abandoned mining camps being reclaimed by the sand. The dunes dropping into the sea are incredible, as was the perfect left point break with ranks of empty peeling waves that our surfing friends would salivate over. Out here deep in the desert there is just no way to access those waves. 

At the end of the flight we were even even more pumped up about driving across the desert. The Namib, Iona, the Ennedi, the Algerian Sahara. Someday.

Andre from Oryx called us to tell us they had the canopy off and in the shop, we could pick up the cruiser. It looked so naked without the canopy. We took the opportunity to have a service done on the vehicle.

We’d brought the vehicle to Oryx on Wednesday morning, and by Friday afternoon they were done. Andre and the team had gone deep, adding gussets, replacing the whole bottom longitudinal piece that rests on the bed and sistering the corners with reinforcements. It was impressive work and we were optimistic. Andre was not, stressing that this was a temporary repair and that we should plan on getting a new canopy in the future. 

Saturday morning we packed, the Cruiser was whole again. We hit the road, trying yet again to make our way to Kaokoland. It’s too far to make it one day so we drove as far as practical, stopping at the Hobatere Roadside Oasis Campsite just west of Etosha’s Galton Gate. This lovely spot has very great campsites and wildlife that roams free throughout. There are private ablutions, a nice fire pit and a shade thatch roof, all very nice. 

After our failed attempts to reach Kaokoland so far I felt a bit of suspense about finally making it there. We had been before, but this time we’d have more fuel range and better planning to allow for a more thorough exploration. 

A short primer on Kaokoland

The name Kaokoland is now unofficial, a legacy from when Namibia was under South African administration. At that time you needed a permit from the government to enter this remote area. This was abolished in the lead up to Namibia’s independence (1991) and now Kaokoland lies within the official Kunene Region. Opuwo is the only town of significant size in Kaokoland with 5,000+ residents. Elsewhere there are a few villages big enough to have a fuel station and a shop or two, and many smaller villages. 

Kaokoland is the home of the Himba, or Ovahimba people, many of whom still live traditionally, herding livestock and moving seasonally to follow grazing for their animals. Kaokoland was also the lifetime focus of conservation leaders Garth Owen-Smith and his partner, Margaret Jacobsohn. Their determination with the knowledge and support of the indigenous people, helped establish the Namibian Community Conservancy conservation model. This model has been uniquely successful and has been copied in many places around Africa. 

They chronicled their life’s efforts in conservation each in their own book,An Arid Eden: A Personal Account of Conservation in the Kaokoveld (Owen-Smith) andLife is Like a Kudu Horn (Jacobsohn). Even though both books cover the same topic they are very different. Owen-Smith’s book includes a biography of his interesting formative years and is incredibly detailed, I suppose the only complete history of who/when/where/what/how many conservations decisions were made in Namibia. Jacobsohn’s book flows more easily and is a remarkable history of their work in Kaokoland. Both are inspiring and worthwhile stories. 

For us the allure is wild wide open spaces, few people, the Himba living in their traditional way and the vast untrammeled landscapes that are an arid lost world. The remoteness of this region and difficulty traveling here prevent it from being busy, only the determined and well prepared traveler can make it this far. It is not, for example, the same level of difficulty crossing the Sahara, but it is certainly not a place to travel on a whim. There are no shops, no spare parts, no fuel, little water, and few people to help should you have a problem. Kaokoland awaited us. 

In Opuwo we stocked up on provisions, firewood, diesel and water. In Botswana we had headed into the Kalahari full on all stores, the vehicle very heavy, but the roads there are relatively tame and the terrain fairly flat. This time we were fully loaded and we had to drop from Opuwo, roughly 1150m elevation, to the Marienfluss valley floor, roughly 400m elevation, and the roads were rough and steep. Great care would be required until we could transfer some fuel from the jerry cans on the roof rack.

To get to this remote region the approach from the south is easier, however this route is a longer distance. Since our explorations would be limited by fuel range we thought we’d proceed the shorter way, a roughly counterclockwise loop, coming in from the east and departing to the south. 

The most famous approach coming in from the east is the formidable Van Zyl’s Pass, well known among 4×4 enthusiasts for its difficulty. There are certainly more difficult routes in the world, but Van Zyl’s is quite remote, meaning if you do have a problem, the recovery, if even possible, will be arduous and very expensive. In 2020 we drove Van Zyl’s on a loop through the valley, hastened by the outbreak of COVID-19. 

We considered driving it again, since it is shorter and the scenery is stunning. In particular there is a campsite just before the crux of the pass that ranks as one of our all time most scenic spots. On the other hand, Van Zyl’s is “not nothin’,” reaching a 24% grade in sections, we didn’t want to do it just because. On top of this low range 4×4 is required for part of the route, which might offset any fuel savings gained from the shorter distance.

The more tame route is via Etanga, Otijhaa and Onjuva, via Marble Mine Camp. This route is shorter than coming from the south, but still much longer than Van Zyl’s. There was a third way, maybe. I had noticed one report online about an unmapped road into the Marienfluss Valley put in by the Marienfluss Conservancy. I scoured the internet for their contact info and drew a blank, nor was I able to find anyone’s GPX tracks that had passed this way. 

After conferring for a while we decided to try to find this route, and if we couldn’t we would divert to Van Zyl’s and have that spectacular campsite as a consolation. The only clue from the internet directed us to start our search for the new road in the village of Otjithanda, just east of Van Zyl’s. 

As soon as we left Opuwo we were on gravel, making good progress towards Etanga. On the way we stopped for a vehicle broken down on the side of the road. They had a hole in their oil filter and it was screwed on so tight they couldn’t get it off. We couldn’t get it off either, but supplied them with duct tape to make many passes around the filter to staunch the leak. It still leaked, but they topped up the oil and hoped for the best. Before we continued on our way the guy admonished us for stopping to help, that “You can’t trust these guys, it is not safe.” Usually we don’t stop, but we made a judgement call to stop, figuring this would be a terrible place to set up the ruse of a breakdown to rob people; so few cars pass this way thieves wouldn’t have many customers. Not to mention the karmic consequences of not stopping for stranded travelers.

An Unmapped Route Into the Marinefluss

From Etanga the road turns to a narrow dirt track and we started to feel the isolation of Kaokoland. For hours we bumped down the track, following the GPS to Otjithanda. From here the map had a small track looping south of the “main” road, we started our search for the new Conservancy road here.

There were a few false starts, heading down the numerous unmapped dead end tracks that ended at the kraals of some Himba. Then we found a dry riverbed and lots of people gathered on the bank. Already the GPS showed us on white unmapped blankness on the screen, but the topography on the map suggested this might be a promising direction to head. 

A young man came over and happily spoke english, a rarity around here. We asked him if this was the new road to the Marienfluss. He was surprised, “Who told you about this road?”. I responded that I’d read about it on the internet. He said it was indeed the road, but that we would get lost, that the first few kilometers is hard packed sand and the wind had erased the previous tracks. He then offered to guide us across this first part. We accepted and he hopped in the car.

After crossing the dry riverbed we saw that he was right, there was no way we would have been able to proceed without his help. The only indication there was any road at all was that there was a car sized hole in the scrub, but no tire tracks, ruts or any other sign that this was a road. 

Four kilometers in we came to and old dam, a surprisingly large cement installation that he said had been installed to retain water for livestock. Now the dam was dry, its basin full of sand. He directed us to drive across the sand and we immediately got stuck. We lowered our tire pressures two times before we could drive on this soft loose sand, down to 1.0 bar. 

Directing us northwest we found where the tracks lead out of the sand and towards the Marienfluss. He said that from here the track was easily visible and we would not get lost, and that he would walk back from here. We thanked him and gave him an apple and a tip, but to our surprise he refused a bottle of cold water, laughing at us. “Himba do not need water all the time like you do,” he said. 

He also instructed us that if we got lost to just ask someone for directions, though there appeared to be no sign of people anywhere. It was late afternoon and we figured we’d drive until we found a good spot to wild camp in the bush. 

For a while we bumped along this track, sandy and rocky, threading through the bush and loosely following a dry riverbed in a southwesterly direction. We congratulated ourselves on finding the road and a path into the valley that wasn’t as technical as Van Zyl’s. This confidence faded as the road brought us down a particularly steep and rocky ravine. It wasn’t terrible, but it was no walk in the park either. If anything happened we had a sat phone, but it would be difficult to direct someone to the unmapped route. Maybe we should rename the blog to “bitoffmorethanwecanchew.com” 

Thankfully the steep rocky stretch abated and we were able to continue on a scenic bush track, feeling like real explorers on this unmapped route. Eventually we crossed a wide stretch of relatively flat granite and we could see faint evidence of a previous camp site, the road crew or conservancy staff perhaps. Here we made our bush camp, out in the wild environs of the hinterland. The sunset cast a pink and purple glow on the hillside. Around the fire we marveled at the stars and wondered about the remainder of the unmapped track that awaited us on the morrow. 

The Nitty Gritty

Eagle’s Rest is not particularly cheap, 300 NAD pppn, but this gets you an immaculate campsite, hot showers, clean ablutions and an all around professional outfit. Wood can be purchased at reception. We didn’t partake of activities here, but it certainly looked like there were game viewing options. 

Palmwag Lodge has now been taken over by the Gondwana Collection, adding their signature touch of corporate uniformity, exacerbating it’s already business like feel from before. It is, technically, a good campsite with all the amenities. Note that if you are Namibian or SADC citizens you can get a whopping 50% or 40% off, respectively, from camp fees at all their properties, if you buy the Gondwana card, good for five years and only 300 ZAR. 

Outjo – The Outjo bakery seemed excellent. We only got pies, pastries and coffee, but I wished we’d stayed for a meal. The Spar in Outjo is perhaps the best Spar we’ve ever been to, really well stocked.

Opuwo – There are a couple grocery stores here and a Shell fuel station. The farm supply shop at the fuel station has some hardware and odds and ends of camping equipment. Top tip: you can’t buy beer in Opuwo on Sundays. Unless you’re Jenny and are super nice to the owner of the grocery store, but don’t count on it. 

Swakopmund – Is a quirky little town. Again, unless a few particular activities are really what you want to do I would probably give Swakopmund a miss on my next Namibia itinerary, assuming you have limited time. What I did love is that it is a small town, but so small that it doesn’t have all the services one needs to get things done on your car. There are multiple well stocked 4×4/auto shops, obviously aluminum welding, all that sort of thing. Namib Campers in particular had a unique stock of hard to find items like latches and gas struts. Also everyone was very friendly.

Also I found excellent fresh roasted coffee from Slow Town Coffee and we also got two loves of excellent sourdough bread from Cordes & Co, a cafe just up the street from Slow Town. Sourdough bread! What a relief after months of not very interesting bread, and sourdough keeps better. We savored every slice.

I do not recommend the Lighthouse restaurant, we got lousy service and lousy food, but each to their own.

I will detail the new road into the Marienfluss in the next post.

*internet continues to be fleeting, but there are some photos here at least. Posting now and hope it goes. I am posting in a hurry so please forgive typos… We are having a great time!

October 23rd – 25th, 2021

Ngepi Camp turned out to be the medicine we needed. Waking up in the morning here was remarkable, with the birds very active. I was woken by some incredibly loud cackles from red billed spur fowl having some sort of disagreement, and after that we had a lazy morning of watching birds, wildlife, and having what we refer too as “fancy” breakfast. 

One minor puzzle we had yet to solve was the best way to make eggs in camp.  For practicality sake we eat hard boiled eggs often on game drives. But in camp it’s nice to have a fried egg, but our stove even on it’s lowest setting is too hot. Combine this with trying to make toast in a pan and it’s never really been our forte. Until this morning, where we went with the “toad in a hole” method, cutting out a circle in our bread to crack the egg into. Here’s to small victories, they came out just right.

Not feeling pressured we spent the day putzing around the cruiser and repacking for our upcoming guests. We are meeting our good friends Pete and Melissa in Livingstone next week, and we all need to figure out how to squeeze into our vehicle together. After some organizing it was starting to look like it might be possible. We were thankful to have our 270° awning, a recent splurge we added to the cruiser, which allowed for some packing in the shade as it heated up through the day. 

Thorough hot, sweaty and ready for a break we took advantage of Ngepi’s unique “pool”. A square dock in the river with about a 4 meter opening in the middle, the same river that is teeming with crocodiles and hippos. This square is caged on all sides, so one can safely swim in the river water. It was wonderfully cool to swim in the river, and a nice change to a pool, to really be in the environment. 

After that we enjoyed a couple very frosty Hansa draft beers from the bar (30 NAD) and took care of a few digital chores with a weak cell signal. “For my security”, Chase bank has delayed or cancelled my wire transfer to pay our mechanic bill in Windhoek, which is getting increasingly annoying. Still was unable to resolve this.

The next morning we left Ngepi fairly early, but not with our up before the sun game drive urgency that we usually do. I suppose something about knowing that we have a months of game viewing ahead of us took away some of the pressure to get into the park at the opening time of 0630. 

Our speedy version of breaking camp includes putting away the tent, making coffee and tea, brushing our teeth and that’s about it, which takes about 25 minutes if we’ve done what we’re supposed to do, put everything away the night before. Lazy breaking camp takes about an hour.

None the less we did manage to get packed up and started before 0700, driving the 7km of packed sand to the main road, and a few kilometers of gravel road before getting to the gate 20 or 30 minutes or so later. 

Entrance to Mahango cost a very reasonable 250 NAD total for two people and the vehicle. They have changed the fee structure so that you can use your permit for Mahango on the other side of the river in the Buffalo Core zone (the western zone adjacent to the Kavango River) of Bwabwata National Park on the same day. Two parks for one fee, a great deal. There are also new facilities at the entrance of both parks, with maps, signage, and toilets all looking very organized.

There is also borehole water available at the Buffalo Core entrance that we were allowed to fill our water tank from in 2019.

Mahango National Park is modest in size, but has a nice riverfront drive. Lions are seen, but rarely, and other than that there are the usual suspects of warthog, various antelope, giraffe, elephant, ostrich, and a whole lot of birds. We also saw two nile monitor lizards, including one that climbed a tree. I had no idea they could do that, and I’m not sure he did either because we watched him cling to the trunk for a few minutes, as if he was wondering how to get down. After a while he sort of figured it out, but it was not graceful, making me think that tree climbing is not a regular pastime for these large and prehistoric looking lizards.

Mahango is well known for a large and lovely baobab tree at one of its picnic sites, which has sadly died and fallen down. The ranger at the gate remarked that between covid “and our baobab tree died”, It has been a tough year, and indeed it was sad to see the downed tree. We have a photo of us in front of the same tree from 2013, the first time we ever did any self drive safari.  

The rest of the morning we continued to see a wide array of birds, modest wildlife and had a nice drive. It was our first of what will be many game drives, and we loved being back in the dust and corrugations as much as the the animals and the vistas. 

Mahango is a beautiful piece of wetlands and riverine woodlands. Wildlife is easy to spot, but not as productive from a game standpoint the headliner park in Namibia, Etosha. The Buffalo Core side of the river is bigger and has more tracks to explore than the Mahango side, with some deep sand and supposedly the rare sitatunga antelope. We have been there before in 2019 and decided to press onward this time. I would recommend the Buffalo Core and Mahango pair of parks to anyone, particularly now that you can use the same fee in each park. With two days (or maybe two nights if you game drove on arrival and departure days) you could explore pretty much every track in this pair of parks.

After the morning drive we still had a fair way to travel for our evening’s destination, Mudumu National Park. We made a fuel stop in Divundu. The market adjacent to the Shell station has been upgraded since we were last there, with spiffed up ablutions (5/5 on the gas station scale, which has more modest requirements in my view) and maybe a better selection of goods inside. You can buy beer and not very good meat pies here too. 

Heading east we crossed the strip part of the Caprivi Strip, a perfectly parallel swath of land that reminds me, in shape, of the Oklahoma panhandle in the US, except Namibia has sort of bump on the end that includes the small town of Kongola, Mudumu and Nkasa Rupara/Mamili National Parks, as well as the regional hub of Katima Mulilo. 

Bwabwata is fairly monotonous but pleasant, with a nearly perfectly straight road stretching the 190 or so kilometers. The eastern portion of Bwabwata is called the Kwando Core area, with the part in-between being a multi use game area with a lotta bush, and a few villages and small holding farms.

Arriving at Mudumu there is an incomplete new entrance facility on the east side of the road, and no sign as where to get park permits. I think the sign pointing off to the west has fallen over, as there is a sign if you are coming from the south. In any case, the office is marked on the map and we checked in, finding ourselves in the park ledger as one of only three vehicles in the park. 

Mudumu National Park has three unfenced campsites, I think the only unfenced camps in any Namibian National Park. And, I can hardly believe it, there is no additional fee to camp here and you cannot reserve the campsites, it’s first come first serve. Thus for the spectacular bargain of 500 NAD we go two nights of unfenced wild camping along the Nakatwa Lagoon in Mudumu National Park. Hippos wheeze-honking, birds chirping, cicadas humming loudly and an absolutely incredible sunset.

Right around sunset we also heard lions calling, deep low down grunting roars, the first for us in two years. We are back! What a fantastic welcome. That night we made up a new meal to add to our repertoire, fajitas. Though served on rice instead of tortillas, as tortillas are hard to come by in Africa and I didn’t have the heart to attempt making them. 

It was hot so we skipped having a fire that night and had dinner at sunset. As darkness fell the local trop of baboons came over to investigate, getting closer and closer the darker it got and it was starting to feel sort of ominous. The ‘babs’ as we sometimes call them, can be quite aggressive, but this group was more curious, I’d imagine that the low volume of campers has kept them at least somewhat wary of humans. After they’d closed in close for a good look they left us alone.

We went to bed early and it was hot that night. I tested out the 12v fan I brought for this sort of occasion. The tent has a 12v cigarette lighter plug in it for this sort of thing, and the fan draws only .18 amps on low. It was wonderfully cooling, but a bit louder than I hoped and we couldn’t hear the spectacular sounds of the bush very well, so after cooling off a bit I turned it off to listen to the bush symphony. What a great place.

The next day was spent in the park, game driving around. No luck on finding the lions, though we did see their tracks, including the tracks of one very large male. I forgot to take a picture. The area between the lodges and the ranger camp seemed to be the most productive for game, and that is where we saw the lion tracks. 

Also the sandy tracks here make for easy tracking, even for amateurs like us. Further south in the park, south of the ranger camp and near the campsites, the sand is very deep and soft. Particularly in late afternoon when the sand is hot and loose it is slow going. We reduced to 1.2 bar in the front and 1.5 in the rear and even used low range for a bit. With the right tire pressure the land cruiser marched through it without missing a beat.

We shifted from campsite No. 1 to No. 3 with permission from the ranger (via text, there is one bar of signal on MTN in the park), and spent some time midday lounging on the riverbank, watching birds and soaking it in, we explored south of the campsites. There aren’t many roads south of the campsites and we almost gave it a miss and went back to the central area, but we’re glad we didn’t. About 1 km after campsite No. 3 there is a right turn to a spur that dead ends at the overflow camp. If you skip this right turn and keep going there is a nice two spoor track that looks occasionally driven going near the marsh. Good birdlife, a tortise and a few antelope. We got to the ‘end of the road’ on the map, but the road clearly kept going. Following along we arrived to some beautiful marsh plains adjacent to the lagoon. I imagine they’re underwater if there has been much rain, but the track was clear and views wonderful. 

We saw waterbuck, saddle billed storks, a small group of browsing adolescent male elephant and a few other animals to keep us company. You can follow this track all the way to the park boundary. Beware, I imagine the road would be a disaster when wet.

Returning to camp we grilled chicken and baby marrows over the fire and retired fairly early. Unlike 

To Katima Mulilo

The plan is to head to Zambia and meet our friends in Livingstone no later than the 27th, so we had to get a move on. Needing a PCR test prior to crossing into Zambia we left before dawn on the access road that cuts NE to the C49. Arriving at the tar in short order, right at sunrise (a wee bit early according to park rules, but we received a friendly wave from a ranger), we aired up our tires in the company of a few zebra and roan. 

Even after getting going on the tar we had to stop for a solitary elephant to stared us down and gave us a warning head waggle to make sure we knew who was in charge, and then he sedately crossed the road. Elephants do this often, stare you down and give a head shake, ears full open and facing you with aggression. Assuming you stop and they are satisfied you got the message, almost invariably they will continue on their way, but at a slightly oblique angle away from you, but not so much so that they can’t see you behind them. They’ll swing their head left and right to check on you and make sure you’ve stayed where you were told. Wonderful animals. 

T4A said it was 2 hours to Katima, and with our airing up and elephant stop we were there in 2.5, with a half hour to spare before the hospital covid testing facility opened.

We were curious how the hospital would look and what the scene would be. Arriving through the gate everyone was masked, mostly correctly. There was a, thankfully, empty triage tent, and a separate large army style tent set up for outdoor covid testing. A few benches around with less than a dozen people waiting already. Everyone appeared to be local, or perhaps truck drivers also intending to cross the border, except for us and one other traveler. 

A critical skill on our endeavor is waiting. Africans are excellent at waiting, Americans less so. One must channel your inner patience and serenity and just wait. Whatever you’ve come for will happen eventually. Usually. Except when you need to speak up for yourself or it will never happen. Knowing which situation you are in is not always clear, but this time around it was obvious waiting was what was happening.

Eventually things got moving and we were processed, swabbed and on our way. The Namibia Pathology Institute has recently installed a PCR lab in the Katima Mulilo hospital, so samples no longer need to be driven to Windhoek. This has reduced turnaround times to less than 24 hours, very impressive. Cost was 750 NAD, about $52 USD/ea.

The Air Con

Since arrival in Windhoek our air conditioning has not been right. When turning it on a load squealing noise emanates from under the hood, presumably the belt slipping. After a few seconds it stops, but then every 15 seconds or so, when the a/c compressor clutches in, it chirps and squeals again. Clearly this needed to be sorted out, we were headed to the hottest part of Zambia, the Zambezi and Luangwa Valleys, in the hottest time of the year, referred to by the locals as “suicide month” do the the oppressive heat. The internet reported the weather in Mfuwe (near South Luangwa National Park) as “106°F, but feels like 103°F”! Oh good, it only feels like a 103°F! 

We headed to Zambezi Auto City, recommended on the iOverlander App. They are a large shop on the edge of Katima Mulilo, and remarkably they had us sorted out in less than an hour by re- tensioning the belt. We had tried this, but had used the incorrect technique and it didn’t work. Proper method applied, we were on our way with blessedly silent cool air flowing.

Camp and the bee eaters

I had read that the largest colony of southern carmine bee eaters nest outside of Katima Mulilo, something like October and November, we had a great opportunity to check them out. To facilitate this we stayed at the closest camp, Zambezi Mubala Campsite, a Gondwana property.

For those that do not know, Gondwana is a sort of Namibian safari chain, more upmarket than NWR, but not anywhere near Wilderness Safaris or someone like that. 

Zambezi Mubala is more expensive than other nearby camps, $19 USD/pppn. They have a small gift shop, bar and restaurant with a deck over the river, pool and camps on grassy lawns and private ablutions, power point and washing up area for each campsite. The amenities are excellent but the whole thing lacks character, or maybe it was just compared with Ngepi, that is bursting with it. 

Additionally the river bank is being eroded and has understandably been reinforced with sand bags, however this does detract a bit from any remaining wilderness feeling. To cap it all off there is a large water pump running 24/7 a little bit down the river, I assume to feed the adjacent rice project. 

The ablutions were fairly well sealed against the abundant insect life, which I appreciate for taking a shower at night when the lighting can attract the hordes, but the downside of this is if you use any of the freely available hot water in your shower it turns the shower block into a sauna. The second you turn the water off from your refreshing shower you are immediately hot and sticky again. Ablution score, 4/5, functional but no charm. Water from this camp is directly from the river.

I will say that the bird life is amazing here. Bee eaters and grey louries, black eyed bulbuls, arrow marked babblers and who knows what else. We also saw the crazy looking Schalow’s Turacou, but I was unable to get a photo of it. What a great looking bird.  

Our only chance at the bee eaters was this afternoon, as the new day we would head across the border. The camp offers a 3 hour birding excursion for about $37 USD/pp, “leaving at 1500 and returning at 1730.” Which you will note is not 3 hours. Asking if we could drive to the colony, as it appeared we could on our map, they said, “The road is not good.” We thought that sounded interesting, so off we went to give it a try.

The road to the bee eaters is narrow two spoor track, but nothing technical, though there are a few narrow spots where we got some bush stripes. Apparently the birds have abandon their former nesting ground and moved west, so we back tracked and found them about 100m south of the road.

Walking out near the nesting ground we sat down and the birds started to ignore us. It was quite hot, but as we waited the later in the afternoon it got the thicker the they congregated, and we could see them even way off in the distance hundreds more doing graceful pirouettes in the air. The massed in near by trees too, harassing each other and adjusting their roost. Occasionally something would spook them and the air would fill with a thousand carmines, and shortly afterwards they’d resettle in the trees, on the ground, chirping and singing at each other.  I must have taken a thousand photos, mostly terrible and out of focus. Even at 1/2000s shutter speed the wings were a blur, but I couldn’t shoot any faster in the late afternoon light. I still managed get some pretty good ones I think.

And we were all alone. It’s quite a spectacle and well worth the time. I’m sure coming with a guide or with the lodge would also prove fruitful, but we did enjoy our independence visiting them.

Returning, we had a fairly decent pizza on the deck along the river and called it an evening not too late. The next day would be a border crossing and the infamously bad Shesheke – Livingstone road. We met a couple in Mudumu that had just spent six months driving to Uganda and back and said that was the worst road they’d driven the whole trip. We will tell you about it next time.

The Nitty Gritty

Ngepi Camp 

80 NAD pppn, with a 100 NAD fee if you park on the grass. They really don’t want you to park on the grass. Very cold draft Hansas were 30 NAD. Firewood, allegedly higher priced than the local norm as it is only collected from dead & downed mopani trees, was a very reasonable 15 NAD per modest bundle. Exchange rate at time of writing is 14.something to $1 USD. 

Water at Ngepi camp is directly from the river. This means we are happy to bathe and brush out teeth with it (slow strengthening of the immune system, or foolhardy?), but we don’t drink it without boiling or treating it. 

Ablutions here are all quirky and amusing. Some are lacking privacy a bit, but somehow this all seems to work out. There was a wonderful open air shower near our campsite, or a more traditional closed one if that is your thing. Hot water is a mix of solar and donkey boiler, which you must buy wood for yourself. It was hot and we took cold showers happily.

Bwabwata NP

If you are making the same drive and want to visit the Kwando Core area you can visit the wonderful Horseshoe viewing platform, though when we did so in 2019 there was a proper squall coming through and not an animal or bird was to be seen, all having presumably taken shelter from the weather. There is very deep sand on this route so be prepared to air down. Some of the roads have frustrating undulations from those that have tried to power through with tires that are too hard, resulting in some holes dug in the track.

Mudumu

Evidently they allow the park permit to be 24 hour permits, though I don’t think this is the official rule, as the could have charged us 750 N to camp two nights in the park, that is 250 for the day we arrived, 250 for a full day in the park and 250 for the day we were departing. But they only charged us 500 N.

Of the three sites (and an unofficial fourth overflow site) we found site three and one to be preferable. Site No. 1 is fairly close to the ranger camp, though we heard no noise from the rangers, site 2 is a bit smaller and has shade but not as good a view and site 3 has it all, a view at the apex of an oxbow in the river and a few shade trees. The overflow site also looks good, though there is no bank between you and the river and I suspect animals come through here to drink. All the other sites have a moderately steep bank, so that though animals could maybe drink from here they’d likely go to either side where there is easier access to the water.

Just south of No. 3 is a place that many animals come to drink.

Air-Con

When messaging back and forth with the shop owner and getting the symptoms he said the problem was either the need for proper belt tension, a new belt, or as far as the a/c compressor clutch needing to be rebuilt. We had our fingers crossed for the belt and lucked out. 

The trick that we did not do when adjusting the tension ourselves was to loosen the idler pulley axel bolt before adjusting the tensioning bolt. This allowed the pulley to slide in its track more easily and not bind on the idler pulley bearing. After getting the correct tension he re-tightened the idler pulley axel bolt. He did not use a torque wrench, it was all by feel, but he seemed to know his stuff and it worked, so it was all good by us.

You can read about a similar screeching issue with air-con here: https://landcruiserclub.co.za/forum/viewtopic.php?f=106&t=82099 

Also the cruiser had been smoking a bit when driving fast (it’s all relative with the 4.2 1HZ engine) and accelerating. When we first left Windhoek and really loaded up the engine for the first time it was pretty bad, and after a while it was only on hard acceleration. Initially I assumed it was due to the 18 month old tank of diesel we had left in the car, after we had used most of that it cleared up, but not entirely. We also noted that the oil had been overfilled at the last service. The mechanic at Zambezi Auto City took out about half a liter and the issue seems to have resolved itself. We have noticed that frequently they overfill the oil. I’m guessing that they are not waiting long enough for the oil to drain down through the engine.

PCR  Testing in Katima

We got tested at the hospital and received a text of our results by 1700 the same day, very impressive. My impression is that they only accept a certain number of travelers’ tests per day, to make sure that they can test enough people that might actually have covid. We had called the week before to make an appointment, and they took our names and said come at 0830, but when we arrived they had no appointment book. Regardless they sorted us out, as well as five other travelers, who all received quick results.  

There are two other labs in Katima, but at least one of them sends their samples to Windhoek for processing, so results take longer. They are also more expensive. I would recommend the hospital. 

You’ll need to collect the official stamped results the following morning from the laboratory at the hospital prior to going to the border. I’ll post all the border crossing details in a separate post.

*the internet here is not good and I’m sadly unable to upload photos. I’ll update when I get a chance, but for now, this is what we’re up to.

October 18th – 22nd, 2021

Here we are, back in Namibia again. Last time we were in Namibia it was March 2020 and as you recall, not a good month for international travel. Then we left under the hurried threat of covid-19 closures, catching the last commercial flight back to the states. This time we hope to do better.

Ngepi

I write you from the very spectacular Ngepi Camp on the banks of the Kavango River in far northern Namibia. Even though Windhoek is a fine enough city, by the time we were done with all our chores we were really itching to get on the road and to some wilderness. We made a big push and drove the ~935km to Ngepi from Urbancamp in about 10.5 hrs. This may seem sort of ridiculous but was totally worth it. We arrived at campsite No. 6 on the banks of the river to comfortable temperature, antelope grazing on the opposite bank and birds everywhere, it was magic and totally worth making the long drive. 

Just that evening from our camp chairs we saw waterbuck, bushbuck, wart hogs, river otter, hippo, crocodile, a host of birds, impala, and a very active bushbaby. We heard it had rained heavily the night before, and all the animals and birds were active, the temperature exceedingly pleasant, and a nearly full moon rose from across the river from camp. We grilled chicken and portobellos over the fire, had ice cold beers from our fridge and were elated, feeling that we had really started our journey. 

*birds may or may not be limited to: crested barbet, cape turtle dove, African skimmer, Egyptian goose/duck (depending on who you ask), African Jacana, blacksmith lapwing, black winged stilt, some sort of heron very far away, red billed spur fowl, starling (meeves?), meyer’s parrot, paradise fly catcher, a yellow bird that might be a weaver, or something else, grey lourie, arrow marked babbler (?) and a bunch I couldn’t identify. It is birding mayhem here, like being in an aviary. They were coming very fast this morning, so much that I couldn’t keep up. Still though, not too shabby for a very amateur pair of birders.

To get here we had to make a series of sprints, a sprint to leave home and a push through the logistics of Windhoek. Let me catch you up… 

The day before we flew from the states was a big day. Getting ready for leave for almost a year turned out, to the surprise of no one but us, to be more work and more complex than we initially thought. We blithely forged ahead, but it has been stressful getting our stuff packed and getting out of the house between many heartfelt good byes.

Windhoek and Urban Camp

Seeing the wide expanse of acacia plains from the air was wonderful, we were back in Africa. After so much anticipation and planning it hardly seemed real. 

When you land in Windhoek there is no jetway, stairs are wheeled up to the aircraft. I like disembarking this way, as you instantly feel the weather, the temperature and smell the smells. It was a bright sunny morning and we kept grinning. 

The grinning didn’t last long, as it was cold enough that my teeth almost started chattering. Cold? Even though October is normally the hottest month of the year, it was less than 50° F. I had been wearing just a t-shirt on the plane, and walking across the tarmac I was freezing. Later the taxi driver confirmed it was very unusual for this time of year.

We had a good chat with the Taxi driver on the way to the vehicle storage place. He said tourism is picking up in the last month, but is still much less than before covid. He also volunteered that he was vaccinated, and that anyone can get vaccinated that wants to in Namibia. There are a lot of vaccine conspiracy theories circulating, leading to hesitancy for some. He also said some employers are mandating it, but also organizing vaccinating for their employees. 

The cruiser was ready and waiting for us, keys in the ignition. Manfred was off with other customers somewhere and this displayed a curiosity we have experienced frequently in Africa. Reputedly Africa is full of scams and corruption, but we have found many times that we are simply trusted to pay our bill. In this case we had a significant repair bill from Manfred’s shop, and we could have easily have just driven away without paying. 

After about 30 minutes or so we had loaded our luggage and were standing around wondering how to pay Manfred when he finally rolled up. We paid him for the storage, 400 NAD/month, and then asked if it would be alright if we did an electronic transfer later for the mechanic fee. He said no problem, and off we went. Another example of the trust we have been extended many times.

Being back in the land cruiser was great, the rumble of the 4.2 straight six diesel, shifting through the gears with the low down torque and just being on the road again, even if just the road from the airport, was great. 

We had a list of things to do in Windhoek, so right out the gate we started with a few stops. First we went to the Offroad Centre 4×4 shop to pick up a new auxiliary battery, as we knew that ours was shot last time we were here in 2020, and no doubt almost 18 months in storage was the nail in the coffin. They were able to quickly install the battery and kindly took the old one off our hands for disposal. 

After that we made a quick stop by Bushlore to pick our Carnet de Passages en Douane, aka carnet, or CPD.It had been couriered to their office from Johannesburg. The CPD is required to take the vehicle into Kenya. More on this in the section at the end.

Urban Camp, chores & the solar saga

After the flying and all the running around we were getting tired and we made our way to Urban Camp, where we have stayed several times before. Urban Camp is a little oasis in the Eros neighborhood of Windhoek, with campsites and nicely furnished safari tents if you don’t have your own camping gear. It also serves as a convenient logistics stop for many a long haul overlander, as well as the numerous self drive rental vehicles that are ubiquitous in Namibia. 

They have a restaurant, bar with very cold draft beer and a small pool. Wifi available for guests in the pool/restaurant zone. In the evenings the bar is a popular place for Windhoek locals. 

Around the compound are thoughtfully designed bathrooms (no trip report is complete without the ablution report!), with great outdoor hot showers. Nicely tiled indoor showers are also on offer for those that prefer to shower inside.  I give the ablutions a 5/5, but mind you I am not that picky. You are forewarned.

We are comfortable at Urban Camp, and it was great to settle in to familiar surrounds so we could get organized to head off to the Zambezi region (aka the Caprivi, though the reasons for the name change remain unclear to me) as soon as we can. 

After a very frosty victory beer the days started to melt together, unpacking and repacking the cruiser, trying to figure where all the stuff we brought would get packed away, provisioning, and getting organized. 

I was starting to think we had brought too much stuff. When we were packing we were a little frazzled, and when presented with a decision we erred on the, ‘bring it, we’ll figure it out when we get there’ side of things. Now that we are here, it seems like a lot of stuff. After a lot of cleaning and organizing things started to get tucked away into their spots and it seems like maybe this might actually work

We also noticed that our solar panel didn’t appear to be charging the auxiliary battery. After some poking around with the multimeter I was worried it was dead, but by the time I reached this conclusion I couldn’t repeat my test as the sun was too low. I wanted to measure the DC voltage out of the panel while disconnected one more time before making the call that we’d have to sort out a replacement panel. Some internet research indicated that fried diodes in the panel are common, but on this panel that is a sealed unit, so no cheap fix this time around.

Though we were really excited to be on the outset of our trip, all the packing and organizing and dealing with solar panels was starting to feel like we were doing more of the same logistics and planning we had been doing from home. That combined with jet lag and we were getting a little worn out, and ready to leave the city as soon as possible.

We did enjoy a nice breakfast at the restaurant, though due to covid Urbancamp isn’t offering their really great breakfast buffet they used to have, and instead you order at the bar and they bring it to your table. We accomplished a few digital chores and I already got back an email from National Luna (makers of our MPPT solar charge controller, packaged into the DCDC charger) on some solar troubleshooting tips. 

Sure enough, I confirmed the panel was dead. To Jenny’s chagrin this meant we got to spend a lot of time talking electrons and whatnot, which is not a favorite hobby of hers. After calling around a bit Offroad Centre, said they no longer deal with flex panels since they had so many issues with them, but that they could replace it with a glass panel. 

They only had 90w panels in stock, and since I’d already been mulling upping our solar capacity we went for two 90s, giving us a total of 180watts. That should be plenty for our relatively modest needs. We run two fridges that each draw 2.4A when the compressor is running. The small 15 liter fridge is in-between the seats for drinks and we can turn off anytime we’re worried about not having enough charging capacity. 

Offroad Centre was able to squeeze us in for the installation the next day, adding an extra day in Windhoek. Though we wanted to be on the road already, it did take the pressure off a bit. 

We provisioned at the Super Spar in the Grove Mall. Pro tip: we know from before that if you use the outside parking area has parking that is high enough for our vehicle. A surprising amount of parking areas in Windhoek are limited to 2.4 meters, and the cruiser is 2.5 meters or so, making finding parking stressful. We still have PTSD after our incident in Botswana. 

We stocked up on things harder to find further north. Black beans, coconut milk and some gluten free goods for our gluten challenged (can I say glutard?) friend we’re meeting in Zambia. Also the staples, eggs, peanut butter, cheese, beer, biltong, chicken and some veggies. There is a fruit and vegetable stand near Urban Camp, so we went light on the freshies to go there later.

After all this we treated ourselves to a dinner at the famous Joe’s Beerhouse, where I had the Namib Trio of Kudu, Springbok and Zebra, where Jenny went all in on an enormous Zebra steak. Feeling very satisfied we collapsed, with a plan to bring the vehicle in for the solar panel install first thing the next morning.

Which we did, dropping of the cruiser and taking a taxi back to Urban Camp, we find ourselves with a forced day of leisure, giving me time to bang out this not too exciting blog post.

In closing

All this seems very mundane when compared to our lofty aspirations of exploring backwater dirt tracks and wildlife viewing. But when we’ve told a lot of people about our trips we frequently get asked, “How do you even do that?”, Well, here it is folks. If you find this interesting let me know, and if not I promise I won’t be offended if you don’t need to hear about the intricacies of finding ≥2.5m parking spots in Windhoek and other similar fascinations.

I’m also going to be adding a section to each post that I used to call “Logistical Notes”, but that is too boring, so I’ve retitled it, “The Nitty Gritty”. This will have technical notes for those that care, but stuff that might be boring to most. It is hard to know where to draw the line, for example, I couldn’t bring myself to move the solar stuff down there. 

The Nitty Gritty

The Flight

Namibia currently only requires PCR tests within 7 days, but they update their covid protocols on the 15th of each month. As we were flying on the 16th I felt there was a chance they would switch to 72 hrs, as most other countries are. We scheduled quick result PCR tests the day before the flight and had our results the same day, for an extra fee of course. We saved digital copies on our phones, along with photos of our vaccination cards, as well as physical copies of everything.

Our route was San Francisco – London – Frankfurt – Windhoek. The San Francisco airport was fairly empty. Mind you SFO’s international terminal is rarely overcrowded, but it felt sleepy this time around. 

Before arriving at the airport we started checking in online from home, and it felt like I was filling out a job application. Upload copies of our passports, our covid tests, our vaccination cards. The route is checked by the airline, and it automatically prompts you with additional forms to fill out based on your layovers (London, Frankfurt) and destination. All pretty remarkable actually, and it seems to actually work. 

A huge shout out to the person who checked us in at United, he was the most helpful airline person I have had the pleasure to interact with, ever. He made sure our travel documents were in order.

This is the longest I’ve not been on a plane since I was a kid and it was novel to be in the airport again. SFO now has a nice outdoor patio where we sat and ate, enjoying a bit of last minute not masking before 30 hours of mask wearing.

We lucked out and the United flight was pretty empty. The other two flights were fairly full and uneventful.

Windhoek immigration and customs had a long queue, with covid test results checked thoroughly. Only one of the two “required” covid screening forms (the one with the blue outline) was taken at the Health Inspection station before immigration. Our travel health insurance and itinerary were not checked, even though officially I believe this is a requirement for entry.

In the airport while we waited for our taxi we managed to get some Namibian dollars at the ATM. Note, the FNB ATM max withdrawal is 2000 NAD, the other one, Standard Bank, allows 5000 per withdrawal. 

Sim Cards

We also both got SIM cards for our cell phones. Contrary to what I had read before, you do not need a passport to register a phone number and new SIM. Using a package recommended by the MTN staff we each got 3 gigs of data + 700 MB for WhatsApp, valid for 7 days, total a 65 Namibian dollars each, or $4.50 USD. Getting the package that expires after a week is more cost efficient than the one that last a month, and you can just re-up if you need after the 7th day. 

The Carnet de Passages en Douane

The existence of carnets in general is of diminishing importance in international travel, as less and less countries require them and will issue instead a temporary import permit (TIP) at the border. However Kenya does require them. Until recently Kenya would allow visits for up to 14 days without one, renewable, however reportedly this is no longer possible. 

To obtain a carnet you have to provide a cash deposit based on the value of your vehicle to the issuing authority. The issuing authority is located in the country the vehicle is registered in, in our case the Automobile Associate of South Africa. After paying a fee of 6000 ZAR and the deposit AA South Africa issues the carnet to use, valid for one year. Each page of the booklet is for one country. Each page has three coupons. One for customs upon entry, one for customs upon exit, and the third one we keep. Customs in turn match up the two coupons and then they have a record that the vehicle came and went and no import duty is required. If you illegally sell the vehicle and they only have the single entry, then they submit it to AA South Africa who pays the duty, and you lose your deposit. The third coupon is to resolve disputes, as you have evidence you came and went. 

After the booklet is full or your year is up you return the book with all entries made to AA South Africa and get your deposit back, less the 6000 ZAR fee (about $413.80 USD at current rates). If this seems a bit convoluted, it is compared to the TIP alternative. However it does provide recourse for countries that have high rates of vehicles, often stolen, being brought into the country and sold illegally, and as long as it gets us to Kenya then it is alright with me. 

We’ve also been told that it smooths border crossings and makes them much faster, though in our experience getting a TIP is no great hardship and is also not expensive. In many countries they are free, and mostly they seem to cost between $15 and $50 USD per country. No doubt the CDP allows for greater freedom, but it certainly comes at a steep cost. 

How did I learn about such things? A lot of time on the internet. And it’s not quite as esoteric as it sounds, for example, my employer needs carnets for some of our specialized high value assets that are occasionally shipped around the world.

Water

I filled our water tank from the camp water and found that the charcoal filter I’d brought for drinking water has the wrong threads, and none of the handful of adapters I have will work. This was disappointing, I had been trying to up my water game a bit. 

Typically we only treat the water if it’s suspect. I wanted to start out right after everything had been sitting for so long, so I dosed the tank with Katadyne Micro-Pur Forte treatment powder. I had to order this from Europe as in the states it’s only sold in tablets for treating 1 liter at a time. We have tried Aqua-Selvo in the past, which works but we didn’t like the taste, though we still have some if the mirco-pur stuff doesn’t work out. 

First pass and we are happy with the Katadyne Micro-Pur, which comes with a little dosing spoon to scoop out the powder in 1g increments, which will treat 100 liters of water. Our tank is 60 liters (or 67?) so I used ⅔ of a scoop. We also have some Katadyne Anti-Chlor, which you can put in a water bottle to neutralize any chlorine taste. So far the taste is palatable, though not undetectable, and the anti-chlor does help a bit. 

Next time around I’ll give the full low down on the solar setup and Ngepi Camp.