Thursday 11th March, The Kaokoveld

We have now traveled to close to the far north western corner of Namibia and are currently staying in an area called Marienfluss which lies at the heart of Kaokoland. Our Northern border is once again the Kunene River with Angola across from it. At this point the river is so narrow that you could easily swim the distance in 2 minutes, were it not for the crocs.

Kaokoland is one of Namibia’s remotest regions and has a totally prehistoric look and feel to it. The landscape is semi-desert and ranges from rugged mountains and dry riverbeds to vast sweeping plains. It is incredibly hot here; we measured temperatures in the low to mid forties and the air is very dry and hot.

 Everything here has over time adapted to the harsh arid conditions and the plants and trees which do exist here are something none of us have ever seen before. Also in this region are the endangered desert elephants which have long spindly legs, suited for long walks in search of water.

This area is also home to the semi-normadic Himba people, who are best known for smearing a mixture of ochre, butter and bush herbs over their bodies which protects them from the sun and insects. They have so far resisted most outside influences to modernise and still live like they have done for generations, herding cattle and goats and living in very simple huts which have the appearance of large beehives.

With this area being so isolated and there being no phone signal for miles it appears that the way to communicate with your neighbours is to strategically place a pile of rocks in the vicinity of your homestead. At least that is what we think these strange configurations of stone are:

At the heart of Kakaoland lies an area called Marienfluss which is really hard to describe. It is a valley stretching 120 km from south to north and is like an oasis in the middle of a desert. Since it is almost totally flat, not unlike the salt pan in Etosha, and surrounded by mountains, it feels like you are in a giant cathedral. During the wet season, the dry hot soil is apparently transformed into a lush green landscape stretching out for miles, however, we only saw it at its driest and hottest.

Adding to the mystique of this place are hundreds of what has been termed ‘magic circles’ which are perfectly formed circles in the soil where there is no vegetation at all. There are many theories as to what causes this phenomenon but nobody actually knows.

There are two routes into this valley, the ‘shorter’ but very steep six hour Van Zyl pass which is a 4x4 challenge only for the most experienced drivers and then there is the slightly longer but less steep route.

Van Zyl pass from the top

There was much debating which route to take over the campfire the night before but when it became apparent that Heather and I would actually have to walk in front of the vehicles (backwards!) to find the safest route down, we declined (the pass is made largely of loose rocks and requires a ‘spotter’ to mark out the route).

So we went the long way. It took us almost two days of driving to get here but we all feel it was worth it. The drive itself is a mixture of rock crawling, sand driving and teeth rattling corrugation skimming, averaging speeds of no more than 20 miles per hour with the most stunning scenery. Each time we came across a particularly challenging pass, Don muttered ‘Ed would love this!’  We must have crossed about thirty or so riverbeds, luckily all of them dry. Except one!

After leaving Etosha Game Park we made our way towards this most north western corner of Namibia via the Epopa Falls. We made an early start the next morning after a night of heavy rain. When we got to the river we encountered our first flash flood ‘wet’ river bed and not only had the bridge been washed away but the water was flowing so fast that there was no way we could cross. So you wait.

 Heather used the time to do her laundry and I was reading. We were soon surrounded by Himba people who came to observe the spectacle. Several 4x4’s were waiting to cross but no-one wanted to be the first one to go. 

After waiting for at least six hours and there not being any sign of the water level dropping sufficiently we decided that today was not the day. So the boys wanted to set up camp for the night right there, by the river, Voortrekker style. Heather and I reminded them that we were not actually travelling in ox-wagons and they finally (reluctantly!) relented and we turned back and spent the night in the nearest camp. The next morning the water level still hadn’t dropped so we headed upriver looking for a safe place to cross. We eventually found a spot and made it across. Phew!

Tomorrow we are starting our journey south along the Skeleton Coast. Unlike in Sudan, where we celebrated our most Northern point with stale warm water, tonight we celebrate with cold beers.