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A 4.45 am reveille -
and no early-morning brew!! This had better be worth it I thought as
I dragged myself out of my sleeping bag. We were soon on our way
in the darkness of the early dawn. A drive of around half an
hour saw us arriving at the car park beneath the 150 metre dune.
It was quite cool as we started the ascent, but the effort of
plodding our way through the soft sand soon warmed us up. The
first section was probably the steepest, with a distinct
feeling of climbing three feet and falling back two, such was
the effect of the sand. Unfortunately we were not the first to
set out this morning, with a group of walkers already halfway
up. But as we made our way up we could see the headlights of
vehicles heading through the desert to join us. As we looked
east towards the rising |
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sun, the western side was bathed by moonlight, and it was
only around half an hour later that we settled down on top of
the dune to witness the sun rising over the distant horizon, and
all was quiet as the sun finally appeared, and the
colours of the vast expanse of the desert beneath began to
change from the pre-dawn darkness to the familiar red glow of
the Namib sand. There was some level of excitement as we were
all eager to capture this moment in time on camera. We stayed
awhile perched on the ridge as we began to feel the warmth of
the early sun. It was very tempting to linger, but with the lure
of a belated early-morning brew and breakfast being prepared at
the bottom we started our way down, meeting up with numerous
other walkers who had arrived after us. |
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In
the early light of day we could see below that the car parking area at
the foot of the dune had now become quite a hive of activity
with several safari trucks and all manner of vehicles, some of
them, as were Gecko and Jonas, preparing breakfast.
On return, following a very welcome cooked breakfast and one or two cups of
tea we strolled around taking in the scene, watching others
taking the walk to the top. It was now we appreciated the
wisdom of Maxwell's early start, and the benefits of making the
ascent in the cool of the early morning. After breakfast and a
little rest and recuperation we were off for yet another walk.
We only had to drive a short distance where we met up with
Frans, a Damara bushman turned park ranger who was to conduct us
on a 3 hour walk through the |
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dunes. He guided us to a corner of the car-park where a number
of snazzy 4 x 4 Toyota Land Cruisers were waiting. Also present
was a small pick-up, the type one would use to convey sheep from
place to place. Sure enough - this was ours!! We all
had a giggle with cries of "Baaah .... baaah .....
baaaah....." as we climbed aboard for the (mercifully) short
journey to our starting point. Frans gave us a short
introductory talk, giving a demonstration of the unique "click
language" that they use - hard to explain, but many words are
preceded with a pronounced click, the absence of which would
render him being unable to be understood by his fellow bushmen.
Frans, barefoot, brought up as a bushman hunter was very
experienced with a great depth of knowledge with regard to not
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the many creatures, insects and snakes that inhabited the
desert, but also of the various plants, many of which can be
used to provide drinking water and can mean the difference between life
and death, whilst some of the insects and lizards can provide
the protein to prolong survival in such a harsh environment. He
pointed out several plant species, one of which, "ostrich salad"
appeared dead, but stored its seeds within, and as Frans
sprinkled a few drops of water on the buds they opened within
seconds to release the seeds, which may well have been dormant
for years. Frans also pointed out that the darker streaks that
marked the surrounding dunes in many places were in fact iron ore, and
demonstrating this by taking a handful of sand and attracting a
cluster of iron with a |
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magnet. Whilst many countries
may have plundered this valuable resource, the
Namibian government have granted protection to the area, and
thankfully, viewing the value of its natural beauty as far more
important than the minerals within. Frans gave us a great insight
into life within the desert, and, ending up with a run down a
steep dune, we retraced our steps back to the little pick-up and
were returned to our safari truck. It was back then to our camp
at Sesriem for a salad lunch, and very soon it was time to pack
up once again to make our way to our next destination at Agama
Camp. On route we stopped for yet another walk at Sesriem
Canyon. Maxwell assured us that this walk was to be relatively
leisurely, and cool within the confines of the walls of the
canyon, and thankfully, this was the case, as we threaded our
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the upper
reaches of the
canyon to its floor, walking into
an area that just a few months before would have been
inaccessible due to the high levels of water, the
torrential nature of which had of course formed the
steep-sided canyon. There was little wildlife within,
but one resident we did encounter was a horned adder
basking in the sun on a rock. Some queried whether it
was dead, but nobody, including me volunteered to give it
a prod, and we left it in peace. We made our way out of
the canyon and back into the truck for the remainder of
our journey to Agama Camp. We went to the nearby bar for
some welcome refreshment as Max, Gecko and Jonas
prepared camp. We dined on sausage and mash, with corn
in a tomato sauce - very nice - but give me a British
banger any day of the week!! |
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The
"facilities" - a word that Max would always use when
referring to the toilets were first class at Agama, (and
indeed were always excellent throughout the tour) They
were built by the owner, himself an engineer, and the
shower block, a round building finished in local stone
was quite unique. The interior was as neat as any modern
fitted bathroom, but was built to cater for rough and
tumble ham-fisted campers. (Not that there were any on
our trip mind you!) The wash-basins were tin, and the
huge shower-rooms were tiled, again, with local stone.
No fancy taps either - just plain stop-valves
controlling water-flow. Built to last a lifetime.
And so drew to a close
probably the most active day of the tour. Several of us
retired to the campsite bar to watch the sun going down,
turning the nearby mountains a deep shade of red, and, as ever,
with the promise of a 6 am reveille, many of us chose to
take an early night once again. |
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