Sands of time
From the Namibian border town of Ondangwa I head to the coastal town of Swakopmund. We see a snake, a dusty brown/blue/grey from the sun reflecting off its scales, and promptly run it over. A rather nice combi (minibus) takes me in an entirely uncramped fashion.
Namibia is the sort of place where being halfway to the coast denotes mention, as it was. Its then a race to put up my tent before the rapidly sinking and perfectly beautiful sun disappears completely, at 8pm.
Swakopmund looks like a pristine German town, a bit strange given I’m in southern Africa, and Germany was only the colonial power for 20 years or so. There is a chilly wind though, with the word ‘brisk’ coming to mind. At the northern end of town I stumble upon the Snake Park. The star attractions for me (aside from another tourist: “that’s a spitting cobra? It doesn’t look like a spitting cobra!”) are 3 chameleons, basking in the sun outside. They even change colour for me. Its so subtle you don’t realise its happened until the mottled brown has become a pale yellow.
Pronounced closer to ‘Walfish’ then anything, Walvisbay (named for the whales off its coast) is an easy half hour shared taxi ride from Swakopmund across dunes. Its not a pretty town, and has weather much like a dull spring day in England.
From there, all combis lead to Windhoek, and so its there I must go for onward connections.