Swakupmund north...

Day 9

This morning we saw a large troupe of baboons as we drove out from camp. We were heading to the coast and we drove through the mountains to get out. We stopped in one area of upwardly thrusting striated rock known as "moonland". After several striking conyons we were back into the dunes that continue all the way to the coast where we saw flocks of flamingoes. Not much to report today. I'm sleeping in a warm bed tonight. It's much cooler as the coast. It's good to see the ocean again after so much desert. Tomorrow I go sky-diving.

Day 10

Sky-diving: one word - WOW! It was overcast in the morning so my jump was postponed until just past noon at which point there were blue skies.

Myself, Sandy and Cathy from the group and an English chap named Charlie were driven to the airport. We went through dry training before Charlie and I were loaded onto a tiny airplane to be the first jumpers.

We flew over the dunes down to Walvis Bay and back towards Swakupmund as we steadily climbed to 10,000 feet.

I was the first jumper. Derrick, my tandem jumper, strapped himself to my back as I kneeled in the front near the doorless exit (we'd been doorless the whole flight).

As I stepped out onto a foothold and felt the windspeed I had a lsight spell of nervousness. This was quickly over; I had no time to be scared.

We leapt out and I had enough time to think "What the f-" before the experience took over. Initially we flipped upside down because my legs were in the wrong position. Derrick corrected that and I was soon on my stomach free-falling 5000 feet at 220 kph. It's beyond description. I was yelling and hollering and having a blast. It was sort of like ebing suspended in mid-air. You don't realise you're falling and just have a steady blast of air from beneath.

Before I knew it there was a huge pull and the chute was out. The next five minutes were spent turning arounf through the air as we descended.

It's an insane rush and I have to say I'm hooked. I'd love to do it again. I had a DVD made and have picture stills on CD. The whole madness has been recorded for posterity.

Day 11

Today we drove from foggy, cool Swakupmund back into the baking heat of the desert. The land we drove across was much more savanah than the barren scrubland of earlier days. The scrubby plains were dotted with all manner of acacia trees and great piles of red, house-sized boulders upthrust all around.

This was Herero country and we saw their huts and herds of goats as we drove along. The women stood at the side of the road dressed in long, multi-colored Victorian-style dresses. They were selling dolls in the same manner of dress. Andy told me that the women used to be naked but that French Hugeonauts [sp] had them dressed up when they encountered them hundreds of years ago.

We stopped at Twyfelfontein and had a guided tour of 4 to 6 thousand year old Bushman rock carvings. They were very clear and depicted local as well as coastal animals. I am really eager to learn more about the vanished Bushman culture. I regret that I won't be able to see the Kalahari this trip.

Tomorrow it's up to the Etosha pan. Fingers crossed for animals.

Part 3: Fish River Canyon to Sesriem...

Day 7 Oct. 13

Last night's canyon visit was indeed spectacular. It is hard to describe to one who wasn't there so I'll rattle off a few stats: The Fish River Canyon is supposedly the second largest canyon in the world. It's over 120 kilometers long, 27 kilometers across at its widest point and over half a kilometer deep. We hiked three kilometers along its rim looking into its depth to watch the nearly-dry Frish River snake its way through the bottom.

The layers of strata were coloured mixtures of brown, deep red, and ochre. Thge entire canyon was painted golden by the sunset we stayed to watch. It was a very nice, quiet moment. We saw a large scorpion on the conyon rim and springbok as we drove back to camp.

Early this morning as we drove across the scrubby desert plain with its dark mesas rising in the distance we saw a flock of female ostriches racing along. We also startled a few more Springbok.

Our destination is Sesriem and the dunes of the Namib desert. As I'm finding with the wildlife and the conyon, the stark beauty of Namibia hides many gems. You have only to scratch the barren surface
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I'm sitting at our camp-site now surrounded by miles of maize-yellow plains broken only by the hunter-green of the ancient camel-thron trees and the jagged spine of the Tsaris mountains. After driving for some time across the scrubland we arrived in this striking landscape at Sesriem near the edge of the great Namib desert.

On the horizon are the salmon-pink dunes we will be exploring tonight. My fascination is held byt eh mountains. Thsi is where the Zebra River Lodge ois and these are the ranges I will be trekking in. The rock is steep and looks like it will make for exhiliarating scrambles. The surroundings are a welcome change from the desert scrub-land I've seen so much of.

En route we saw more ostriches and sprinbok. I feel I'm getting a strong sense of Namibia as a place of shifting landscape and hidden beauty. I must admit though, these places have an abundance of tourists that I did not expect.

Day 8 Oct. 14

Last night I had my first true glimpse of the Namibia I came here to see. We drove to the begginning of the dunes and watched the sunset over the Tsaris mountains. The mountains were painted a deep rusty-red by the light and the yellow grass and the green Camel Thorns were radiant across the plains. It was an unforgetable moment and one which inspires oneself to leap for joy and shout 'Viva Africa!' at the top of their lungs. Gone were the barren and unremarkable scrub-lands, now I only see the astounding beauty of the land.

That night, after dinner, everyone was startled by a huge and fast spider. It looked exactly like the one that startled me in the Sahara and we learned today that it's harmless, lives in the sand and is called a "dancing white land spider".

We had a very active and eventful day today in the clay-oven that is Namibian summer. We were up early in the morning to climb Dune 45 in the Sossuvlei. It was 160 meters high and quite the hike to get to the top. The sunrise was beautiful from behind the pink dunes.

After a good breakfast we 4x4ed off into the desert with our guide Boesman ("Bushman"). He basically taught us how to survive in the desert (how to catch a lizard for example) and taught us many things about the Bushman culture that used to flourish in the desert. The name 'Bushman' derives from when the men used to defend their territory by firing arrows at the enemy from behind bushes.

Survival in the desert is harsh and the culture had occasion to abandon the elderly and small children in bad times. When a child was abandoned they were left behind and the rest would turn their back and never look back or speak of the child again. That night the mother would stay on the smoky side of the fire to hide her tears. The bushman say that if you open a bushwoman;s heart you will find many fires. Some go out with age bu that child left behind will always remain a fire.

The Bushmen worshipped the moon and believed that good people, upon death, go there. Bad people inhabit hyenas and unhappy people become dust devils forever looking for happiness.

Boesman provided so much information, I'm eager to find out more on my own. Sadly the cultre was exterminated by others. Up until the 20th Century it was still egal to hunt them for sport.

As we drove to our new campsite we stopped off at Sesriem canyon. It had a sandy bottom and was scultped into fascinating formations.. It took photos but kind of wished I had black and white loaded for the occaision.

It's been a long and wonderful day but I'm tried now and the flies are driving me mad. Tomorrow a real bed in Swakupmund!

Africa Journal Part 2: Cape Town to Orange River

Day 4 Oct. 10

Today began with us in Cape Town meeting up with our GAP tour members. There were about 16 of us and we met our guide Andries and our driver John. We were travelling in a huge Africa-overland truck named Stevie.

Driving North from Cape Town we went through beautiful countryside. Rolling hills with wheat farms lining the valleys. In the far east we saw a large ridge of jagged and craggy peaks rising and following us North.

We came through a pass of about 600 meters and then we were in the Cederberg Mountains. The foothills were filled with naturally sculpted sandstone. Little towns with strange Germanic Afrikaans names clung to the base of rocky outcroppings and mountains that rose behind.

We came to Citrusdal where we stopped for wine tasting. I didn't take part but people had fun. The real treat of the day came after we reached our campsite. We were offered a guided hike into the Cederberg hills with "Skookie" a local who grew up in the hills.

Skookie had an infectious way of talking that made you more enthralled as he went along. He took us from bush to bush telling us of the various shrubs and bushes his people used for remedies, glue, and all manner of uses.

He told us great stories about how the Puff Adder is a lazy snake and snores when it sleeps. Or how the Baboon thinks it has stolen 7 oranges and put them under his arm when in reality he has stolen only one while the others rolled away from his arm with each new prize. He showed us ants and birds whose actions were harbingers of rain.

At one point he walked off into the bush and returned with a desert tortoise (the peed on anyone who tried to pick it up) and a baby scorpion. Skookie truly was a man of the mountains and he made the hike unforgettable.

Day 5 Oct. 11

Today has been a day of contrasting desert scenery. We left the Cederberg Mountains behind us early on and headed into flat semi-desert plains covered in low-lyingbluish-green and grey scrub.

This gave way to rolling desert hills covered in rocky outcroppings with no trees in sight. The variation and the landscapes were quite striking.

At one point we travelled between mountains that were just immense piles of sandy boulders. The regions we drove through were barren and without water. As we neared the Namibian border I saw a range of high hills that looked like heaps of black ash piled amongst the beige-coloured scrub.

At the border crossing the temperature broke 45 degrees C, a new record for me. The mountains on the way to our campsite were deep red-coloured spires jutting from conical slopes, kind of a smaller version of Monument Valley. I can't believe I'm going trekking in this land.

We're camped at the Orange River right now and I think I'll take an after-dinner swim.

Day 6 Oct. 12

The swim last night in the Gariep or Orange river that divides S. Africa from Namibia was unbelievably refreshing. I really have to get back into swimming; and I'm glad there's going to be a pool at the Zebra River Lodge.

It's been as hot as ever today and a bunch of the group went on a canoe trip. I chose to stay back in camp and go for a quick hike back into the hills skirting the rusty-red and purple rock mountains behind the camp. It was hot and I trucked along to start getting used to this weather for the trekking I'm going to be doing in the Naukluft ranges.

I got a few good wide shots with my new lense. My hat and glasses shielded me quite well from the heat.

When I turned to come back I noticed a huge swarm of large threatening insects approaching. I scampered away and the swarm moved off (the guide said later on that it was probably African bees).

This country has a stark and dry beauty that burns its way into your consciousness along with the heat. The canoers are back, we're getting ready to leave. More to follow.

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We drove a great ways across the Namib desert for the remainder of the day to Fish River Canyon. It was mailes and miles of hot scrubby plains with cinder-flaked mountains rising up. The country has a foreboding beauty that invites the eye of the photographer but warns the traveller against reckless passage.

Many times today in the heat I imagined how easily one could perish on those ashen plains.
This evening we're going down to the canyon to see the sunset.

Part 1: Cape Town, the Mother City....Part 2

This is an in media res posting verbatim from when the last post left off.

Our guide had trouble with my name and said that it "broke the tongue". He told us of the forced deportations of blacks, coloureds, and black malays as he drove the "the district" area (now built up to resemble any other part of downtown Cape Town). There was an occaisional old mosque, school, or church that had been left by the wrecking crews.

We drove to the black township of Langa. Words fail me. Alleyway after alleyway of ramshackle shacks constructed with the wood from pallets, corrugated metal, cardboard, boxes, signage, etc. The neighbourhoods teemed with youngsters running about, groups of locals chatting, and women roasting meat on grills over oil cans.

We were definately an oddity to the locals but there wasn't the slightest bit of hostility detected. We visited a 'Shabeen' (illegal pub): a darkened hut filled with men on benches drinking beer from a huge coffee can. We were all offered a sip.

We were given guided tours of old "hostyel" accomodations where 3 families (11 people) shared a bedroom smaller than my bachelor place in Vancouver. Nonetheless, everyone was smiling and the children were clean and curious. I was shooting pictures like mad.

We drove through different areas of the township some with relatively large houses and others (the informal or illegal areea) lopsided shacks. The inhabitants in the latter area were proud to invite us into their homes and have their pictures taken with their children.

It was an eye-opening and life-changing experience; a good taste of what is to come in Ethiopia. We even visited a local witch doctor and his hut strung with the dried skins of every animal imaginable.

It didn't taken long for me to fall in love with South Africa. I have to get rest tonight because tomorrow I climb Table Mountain, the great giant that looms behind this fascinating city.

Day 3, Oct. 9th

I had little idea what to expect when I reserved a guide in B.C. for a scramble up Table Mountain. The mountain, Devil's peak, and the Lionhead all dominate Cape Town's skyline and all approaches look rather steep.

So earler this morning I met up with me guide, Roger Galloway, and we embarked on a Class 'C' scramble called "Kloof corner". The route began at the bottom cable car station and progressed up a steep slope to the foot of a vertical ridgeline. It was at this point that the scramble began. The route when right up a vertical wall that I would classify as a hard 5.7. There was a chain with which to pull yourself up the wall. I went first and found the 15 feet or so fairly challenging in stiff mountaineering boots. I adapted using a lot of arm strength to compensate for bad footing, and made it to the top.

We followed the ridgeline, climbing and boulder hopping along. The weather see-sawed between sunlight and foggy rainclouds that enshrouded the rocks. It was by far the most difficult climb I've taken part in and its hazards were amplified by long drops and cliffs surounding the route.

We came to a second chained wall section that was like an open book with a crack at the spine running the length of about 40 feet straight up. The rock was wet so footholds were bad but It made my way up going on adrenaline and arm strength.

"Intimidating" was the word I would use for most of the climb. The surrounding cliffs left no room for error. Finally we made it through a pass in the rock to an 11-inch wide 'chimney' that stretched 20 feet verical. There was another chain to assist in climbing. Roger went first and I followed with great difficulty. There wasn't enough room in the wedge to turn your hips sideways and lift a leg in the normal manner. I squirmed around, crushing my ribs and making no vertical gain. With much cursing and yelling I eventually got my feet higher and broke through the chimney to the other side (a huge vertical drop but no squeeze). The chain assisted up a fairly easy slope.

The remainder of the climb was much easier but still perilous. At one point we were traversing a cliff face with an 800-meter drop beneath us. Fog covered the top of the mountain and rarely broke to reveal Cape Town down below. Exhausted and soaked, with grated hands from the sandstone, we took the cable car back down.

I would like to classify this climb as my first true mountaineering experience. After Kloof Corner everything else seems like hiking. I spent the rest of the day resting at the hostel.

The Africa Journal Part 1: Cape Town, the start

Day 1

I've slept the whole day away due to jet-lag and will, after writing this entry, try to get some sleep with the thrumming of club music from downstairs. The flights in to Cape Town bare little mention except that I had a good visit with Pat at Heathrow. The Africa flight was long. But seeing Table Mountain jut majestically through the clouds upon our approach was priceless.

Once out of the airport the mountains, it is clear, dominate the skyline. Table looks very steep and sketchy. I can't wait to climb it on the 9th. As we were driving from the aiport I had my first real glance of a true African shanty town. An astoundiong collection of shacks built from everything imaginable: corrugated metal, some wood, signage, whatever will do. I noted that on the other side of the highway was a middle class neighbourhood hidden behind concrete walls topped with coils of barbed wire. South Africa, it seems, wears its social problems on its sleeve.

Tomorrow I'm going to go out on a township tour and get into those areas with my camera. It'll have to be in the afternoon which leaves me the morning tp check out the sites around here.

Day 2

I'm back in my room right now a bit speechless and astounded at all the day's events so far. I feel, for the first time, the I've gotten a taste of the Africa I came here to explore.

The day started off early with me out of bed at 6 AM: wide awake and hungry. I hit the streets and walked along for a while looking for somewhere to eat. It's Sunday and nothing was open. I was quick;ly approached by a young man who introduced himself as Katanga. He shook my hand and told me his story of being a Tanzanian refugee who came to South Africa as a stowaway on a ship. He spoke of the need for education to make something of his life. In other words he was setting me up for wanting money.

I hailed a cab, gave Katanga 20 ren and headed for Cape Town's shorefront. Nothing was open so I asked the cabbie to take me to a place for breakfast. We finally found a place on the slopes of Table mountain. I'd been able to book a half-day township tour earlier so I decided to do a little more sightseeing in the morning.

Cape Town has a strange feel to it. The signs of fear are everywhere: barbed wire, high walls, spiked fences, private armed guards roaming with truncheons, etc. The city is given a slightly sterile feel. Kind of like a fortress preparing for a seige that will never come. For sure, the racial fear that defined Apartheid has not dissipated yet.

I made my way to the Castle of Good Hope, built by the first Dutch Settlers. It's quite near downtown and its layout is in classical citadel formation. The interior walls are painted a Canary yellow and the parapets have cannons in place. I toured a small museum inside with Dutch paintings of ships, dishes and cutlery of the era, and the dining hall with tables laid out further than 100 feet long.

I rested for a bit back at the hostel before my guide for the day picked me up and the real adventure began...

Sorry no time left to finish Cape Town, I promise to do it next time I have the chance to use the internet, the Township tour (absolutely amazing) and scaling Table mountain (scary rock climbing without ropes) to follow in next post.