Of Sand Dunes and Jackals - by Ellen

After what seemed like a never-ending (though once out of the sand, thankfully uneventful) drive, we arrived in Sesriem, the entry point for Soussousvlei and the Namib Desert. After a not brilliant night’s sleep (I was still upset that the jackals and come and stolen our cheese from the cool box the second our backs were turned) we were up well before dawn. We pushed the car out of the sand (again) and followed the line of sleepy cars that were headed for the dunes.

We stopped at Dune 45, and followed the line of sleepy footprints that led up the side of the dune. Dune 45 is one of the biggest sand dunes in the world, and at 6.35am after little sleep and no breakfast, it’s a long, tough climb. But we made it to the top (well, near enough) in time to watch the sun rise over the sea of sand, turning the dunes from dusky pink to vibrant orange.

Fuelled by a peanut butter sandwich, we then set off to tackle the desert. The main vleis (dry river beds) are 5k further into the desert, and only accessible by 4WD, and there is a shuttle service. But where’s the fun in that?! We set off, barefoot, into the desert.

We made it to Soussousvlei, and there it seemed that the done thing to do was climb another sand dune, so up we trudged (and I only moaned about my sore hips a couple of times – man I’m getting old and creaky). But once I reached the top I wondered why I ever considered not climbing it. The orange sea stretched as far as the eye could see, broken up only by the white, cracked dry river bed, and the dead twisted camel thorn trees. And, of course, once up, you have to go down.

I would recommend running down a sand dune to anyone. There is no way you can do anything but scream and smile and whoop with pure, childish joy as you run down the 45º slope, feet sinking into the dune up to your knees, sand being kicked up filling hair, clothes, eyes, pockets. Seriously: go and find the nearest, biggest sand dune and give it a go.

As we set off on the 5k walk back to the car, we were passed by a Landy full of people who waved gleefully at us. “Vere iz your car? Iz it stuck in zee sand again?” Aah, the Germans! The second Landy of their group passed us, and the guide persuaded us to get in – I don’t think he could bear the thought of us two crazy English people wondering unattended through sandy places. Grudgingly we hopped in, and we hadn’t gone more than 50 meters when we came across the first half of their group – who had broken down in the sand.

We didn’t quite understand the exact wording of the comment, but by the raucous laughter and the fact that all heads turned in our direction, it was quite probably something along the lines of “it’s the English couple’s fault”. We hopped back out again to allow them to all squeeze in to one vehicle, and once again set out into the desert. They soon cruised past us, the guy hanging on to the back giving the peace sign and shouting “Victory! Victory!” at the top of his lungs.

The sun was directly overhead by now, and we stopped in what little shade we could find to apply yet another thick layer of sun cream and have our two sip ration of water. I’m not sure how they got in there, but there were ants in our water. We started off with about 10 of them, and I think we got about half each. Well, you need what little protein you can get when trekking through the desert. Spurred on by the thought of the Grapefruit Juice (with Real Fruit Cells)…Grapefruit Juice (with Real Fruit Cells)…Grapefruit Juice (with Real Fruit Cells)…Grapefruit Juice (with Real Fruit Cells) that was waiting for us in the car, we made it back to the car - just in time before the desert madness really kicked in.

I know that this shouldn’t have been a surprise, seeing as we were in a desert, but there really was sand and dust everywhere. We have pretty much no dust proofing seal around the back of the bakkie, and it was almost impossible to identify our possessions under the layer of reddish-brown. Even the dust had a layer of dust.

The jackals came again that night: this time they took a packet of crisps and the card board box that we keep the kettle in. Since then they’ve also managed to steal the salt and the olive oil. I’m not sure what it is, but they’re definitely up to something…