Into the Nothing (Hobas, Namibia)

April 19^th, 2011 (February 2011) – We settled in the Northern Cape village of Springbok for a couple of nights. Our goal was a camping frolic in Ai-Ais/Richtersveld Transfrontier Park described in the Lonely Planet as ‘a seemingly barren wilderness of lava rocks and sandy moonscapes studded with semiprecious stones.’ How alluring. The Spark was clearly not going to cut it so we looked into paying an agency to take us in or, alternatively, renting our own 4wd. It was not to be.

The agency’s driver was out of town and although the women offered us one of her 4wd rentals she actually discouraged us from going. Not only was it extremely hot for the time of year but she suspected the atypical volume of rainfall they had received likely made the road situation difficult. She suspected right. We called one of the park offices and were told that many of the roads were impassable with any vehicle and that the route into the park was very limited. Shiddle-shit!

So we stayed two nights in a local B&B that was not only extremely nice but also of superb value (the holy grail of accommodation at last!). The room was half the price of everything we’d seen up to that point and twice as big. We decided to enjoy two nights of R&R in preparation for our foray into Namibia. We're worth it.

The border crossing at Noordoewer was painless and the guards were rather friendly. There was an awkward moment during a routine bag search when one of the guards mistook tampons for cigars (who hasn’t?). He erroneously believed he was searching my bag as apparently men are not permitted to search the belongings of women. Good to know. Next time I want to smuggle drugs and firearms across the South Africa/Namibia border all I need is a female with a large rucksack. Always good to have a ‘Plan B’ employment option.

Fish River Canyon (Hobas to Keetmanshoop, Namibia)

April 21^st, 2011 (February 2011) – In the morning we dried our tent in the sun and went for a drive for a peek at the canyon. Our second day in Namibia almost resulted in catastrophe. Instead of heading to the main viewpoint we decided to follow a road along the canyon rim that looked particularly tantalizing. We did not realize how long the track was as the signs were a bit deceptive. First you see a sign that reads 8 km followed by another 12 km sign 8 km down the road. It’s like we were being lured into disaster.

On the way in neither of us happened to notice that one of these signs had the words ‘4x4-ish’ written upon it. 4x4-ish? The Spark does not qualify. In fact I would describe it as ‘4x2’-ish.  On the way down an incline I began to have a sinking feeling as the gradient, although moderate at best, combined with abundance of larger rocks began setting off alarm bells.  Danger Will Robinson!

Unfortunately, it was not possible to reverse course halfway down.  Once we reached the bottom I immediately turned around and began going back. The incline was exponentially more intimidating than the decline. It was uneven, filled with rocks, and I could feel the Spark trembling with fear (Actually, that was probably me).  I made repeated attempts to climb but was repelled by small boulders and a lack of sufficient momentum. Too slow and we began spinning in the rocks. Too fast and I risked bottoming out. I am pretty sure there was some fairly vital shit attached to the Spark’s undercarriage so prudence was paramount.