Ghost Towns and Sea Lions - by Ellen

Next we headed to the coastal town of Luderitz, a Germanic town which had sprung to prosperity during the diamond rush of the early 1900’s. Our route took us through some stunning scenery; flat plains dotted with acacia trees against a backdrop of craggy mountains. This was the ‘classic’ African landscape I’d been picturing, albeit on a much smaller scale than the Serengeti. We drove along the harbour wall to Shark Island (which is actually no longer an island, and we didn’t see any sharks) to set up camp in possibly the windiest location imaginable. As we clambered over boulders in search of a sheltered spot, the wind almost knocked me off my feet. Seagulls flapped manically against the wind, getting nowhere, then suddenly giving up and being flung backwards at high speed. We decided that, seeing as our tent poles had a habit of spontaneously snapping on wind-free days, and that if it did blow away whilst we were putting it up it would end up in the crashing waves, never to be seen again, we should probably sleep in the bakkie. By cramming logs into a crevice in the rocks we managed to sustain a fire long enough to heat the food, then we curled up (literally) in the car to be rocked to sleep by the wind.

The next day we visited Kolmanskuppe Ghost Town, just outside Luderitz. During the diamond rush this had been a bustling – and extremely wealthy – town of around 3,500 people. The diamonds in the area (some mining is still going on) we all found within 1 ½ meters of the surface – so perhaps ‘mining’ is the wrong adjective: people could simply crawl across the sand and gather the diamonds by hand. By 1927 the town had a skittle alley, a theatre, a hospital and a school and each house had electricity, flush toilets, fresh water and refrigeration. This is mind blowing considering that, as the town is in the desert, everything had to imported either by rail or sea. Ice would be made in the ice-house daily and delivered to each house by the ox-pulled train that also served as a taxi for the ladies so they didn’t need to get their skirts sandy. They even had a soda stream (!! – and I thought that was an 80’s thing). Fresh water, understandably, was extremely precious and expensive: it was actually cheaper to drink champagne than water! By 1957, however, the town was completely deserted: bigger diamonds had been found near the Orange River. It didn’t take long for the desert to reclaim the town, and now the buildings are home to sand dunes, rats and birds.

We also spent some time exploring the Luderitz peninsula, a remote and surreal place where the desert meets the Atlantic. Mist, wind and flies abound. From here we could see Halifax Island, home to a colony of penguins – and staked out by sea lions. We stayed at a camp site on Diaz Point (only being granted entry once we’d assured the 90 year old lady owner that we were very quiet people and weren’t going to ‘drink lots of beer and make noise and play those loud musical instruments like guitars’. From our private cove we could watch the sea lions and dolphins playing and fishing just offshore.