But, something was niggling me. I had not yet had a swim in the sea. I remember Karen Blixen’s words from her book ‘Out of Africa’ when she was leaving Kenya to return to Denmark: ‘I will not let you go except you bless me,’ she wrote, ‘but then I will let you go.’ Well, I needed those sea blessings before travelling inland to winter and the city. And I longed to wash my body and soul clean, as the ocean so generously does. Leaving my trusty Namibia2Go Fortuna at the hotel, I walked down to the beach with a towel and after a slow entrance frolicked like a happy seal in the waves. Now I was ready to go, sea kissed and sparkling.
Heading eastward through the desert, I passed the viridian ribbon of the Swakop River and the rugged scenery of the Moon Landscape. A hundred kilometres on, as I left the desert behind me, the Spitzkoppe mountains appeared in the north as if materialised from a magical kingdom, beckoning. And being all for magic, especially if touched by Namibia’s magic wand, I turned northwards.
The corrugated gravel road shook me like a milkshake en route to the rocky realm and the tented camp on the banks of a dry riverbed, with a backdrop of the mountain enclave. After setting up my tent and hammock under the ebony trees, I took a slow drive to the community campsite to appreciate the granite mountains as the rock drank in the sun and smiled appreciatively, transmuting granite into gold. I wasn’t alone in my exploration and joined the other visitors who were climbing up to the popular rock arch for those obligatory late afternoon pics and glimpses of ancient alchemy.
Back at the campsite, as the sun turned in for the night, I cooked supper on the fire and basked in the starlight before crawling into my tent to sleep on the good earth. When the sound of dogs and roosters from the settlement woke me before first light, a nearby koppie provided the perfect spot to wait for the sun’s paintbrush to reach Gross Spitzkoppe. It took a slow leisurely stretch and yawn as it peeped its head up in the east and sleepily rose in the sky, reaching across to the mountains. The colours glowed magnificently, leaving the Pontok mountains next to it in shadow. I breathed in the beauty and grandeur before strolling back to my campsite to make coffee and pack up for the last stretch of road to Windhoek.
Thirty kilometres on at the crossroads, I made my last port of call at the Ûiba-Ôas crystal market to revel in Namibia’s sparkling array of gemstones, jewels from the earth. Before long I was back on the tar, music playing, heading towards the city. My car was covered in dust, my laundry bag was full of dusty clothing, my head and heart swam with all the experiences of the last few weeks and I was smiling, just as a good end to a road journey ought to be.
It would take a while to digest everything and to sort photos and all the treasures that filled my car, from baskets and stones to desert roses. And as I drove, I started to plan my next journey.
And you know what they say? Well, yes, that ‘You can shake the desert sand from your shoes, but it will never leave your soul’.
And . . . ‘The end is always the beginning’.
See you next time.