The air was clear, and the blue skies and happy white clouds made the landscape pop with beauty. The road winds through valleys, skirts mountains and is generally very scenic, passing through a few sparse settlements, but we hardly saw any people. 

The track was in good shape, mostly a rocky two spoor track, but not crossing nearly as many ravines and not requiring the frequent use of low range like we had the previous day. Still, it is not a fast route, and why rush? We bounced along and soaked it in. 

After passing a military barracks at the west end of the village, the road opens into a beautiful valley, with a red sandy track, the valley floor carpeted in golden grass. It is wonderfully scenic. Not far from here is the Mukutu campsite, and judging from the view, it had high potential, but we were focused on trying to reach the river today and wanted to have as much time as possible for any problems, so we pressed on. 

At Marker 31, we turned south and headed for the river. We had not yet paid park fees, but we understood from a friend of ours that as long as you paid on the way out this would satisfy the park authorities. I would have preferred to have the permit in hand, but this route also allowed us to cover more ground in the park. 

The track is flanked with tall green grass, and along the valley floor were the beginnings of dunes, the Namib desert creeping into the hills. The dunes were covered in rare patches of green, evidence of recent rains. As we made our way south, the tracks stayed near the mountains on the east, and the vista opened up and stretched far and wide to the west. Huge sandy plains sat before us. We were at the same longitude as the Marienfluss Valley in Namibia, which lay just south of the border, and while it was similar in one way, this area has its own impressive character. 

We spent two glorious nights here. The river was running high, with a waterfall just downriver from us. We made a few hikes and mostly just lazed around and recovered from multiple long days in the car. Being camped by the river gave us easy access to water for cleaning and showers. 

During our stay, we saw two trains of people arrive on donkeys. About eight donkeys, each with a rider or two, and piled high with supplies. Others walked ahead, so 15 people in each group. Where were they coming from? Where were they going? They stopped to water the animals and bathe. An hour or so later, they packed up and were on their way east. Perhaps joining the huts we’d seen for the season? 

After our rest day by the river, it was time to head off again. This day was to be one of the finest days of driving I’ve ever had. The road back over the Serra Cafema mountains was less intimidating on the return and seemed to pass by easily.

Once leaving the road to Tchinhungua, the track picks its way between the hills and opens up to ever-expanding sand-filled valleys. The rain must have been patchy, as we drove through barren red dunes and over the next crest, the track would be a carpet of flowers, bright yellow, purple and white. The landscape was staggering. The red sandy tracks got deeper, and we crossed huge sandy plains with ridges of dunes that we had to take at pretty good speed to avoid getting bogged down. 

In another area, the sand was very deep, and the cruiser was charging up hill after hill of red sand in low-range second gear, when I saw the temperature gauge hit the red. My heart skipped a beat, and I shut the car off. I’d overheated the engine way out here, perhaps as remote as we’d ever been. 

Well, if you’re going to get stuck, this was certainly a scenic place to do it. At least there wasn’t steam pouring out from the hood, so we hoped we could just take a break and the engine would cool off. We’d had the grass seed net rigged for the track up from the river, and that was no longer needed now that we were in the dunes. Jenny took it off and found that our grass seed net doesn’t work that well; the radiator still had plenty of seeds in it. 

Our goal for the day was the Cunene campsite, on the banks of the river, about 30 kilometers inland from the Foz do Cunene. Much of the day had been in the blank space on the GPS. Here we were navigating by paper map and the park’s marker system, which was working well. Until it didn’t. The track just vanished in a field of dunes. If there are dunes, there is wind. If there is wind, the tracks will not last long before they are covered. After much jiggery pokery, we found our way back to the real track and continued. 

This day of discovery was overwhelming. Deep sand, tall dunes, grand vistas, huge herds of oryx, getting lost. We made the final approach to Cunene camp, which is down a steep dune of gravelly sand. Steep enough that we worried if our somewhat lazy 1HZ engine would get us back up. There were plenty of tire tracks here, so we guessed it was possible, but we also thought that maybe the reason for so many tracks was that it took people a couple of tries to make it. Well, we were committed, so we’d figure it out one way or another.

The approach to camp heads south, down, down, down, the hill with and a tremendous wall of sand looming high on the south bank of the river. Namibia’s Namib dune fields tower over the river, and the effect is very dramatic. What a spot! 

Once arriving at camp, there are plenty of places to choose, just find a piece of level ground that suits you and that’s it. The river was rushing by, with towering dunes and a rocky river canyon, complete with palm trees. It is an oasis scene out of Lawrence of Arabia. 

The Nitty Gritty

Marker 60 to Tchinhungua: Travel time: 2hrs, distance: 24.8 kms

Average speed from Tchinhungua to Cunene campsite was 15km/h, including stops for lunch, photos, etc.

Be prepared to change tire pressures often. Parts of the park have very deep sand and require low tire pressures, other parts are quite rocky and you can damage your tires if they’re too low.

Water is easily accessible from the river at both Tchinhungua and Cunene campsites, but of course, beware of crocodiles.