Namibia
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Into Namibia
June
7 - June 9
Luke drove us to drop off the rental car and then dropped us
off at the Intercape Mainliner bus station in Cape Town. We said
goodbye, and at eleven, boarded the bus. It was two decks of
fun and frolic. The seats were smaller than I expected, and I
jammed myself in. So far, the nicest buses we've been on have
been the buses in Thailand. But the Mainliner did have a tv that
showed Home Team, one of the very worst movies I have ever seen.
Starring Steve Guttenberg, it's about a group home and soccer
and it's bad. These boys are shocked to hear that Steve Guttenberg's
character was kicked out of professional soccer for gambling.
Yeah. All I have to say is that Steve Guttenberg was lucky to
get any attention whatever, and that's that. The bad movie was
too loud to drown out, too bad to watch, and so it goes. We zoomed
along and when they weren't showing movies they were playing
music, bad pop music. We did get a couple of hits from the 80's,
bad pop 80's, Billy Ocean, "Suddenly, life has new meaning,
for me. There's beauty in the world, something, something, you
wake up, suddenly, you're in love." And the music went on
and on, into the night. I must say, the "flight attendants",
bus attendants?, anyway, the women who served drinks on the plane
were amazing. Here is this bus zooming along these two lane roads,
weaving, bumping, grinding, and the aisles are narrow, and the
woman have trays that they carry full of scalding hot coffee
and tea, and not a tray, nay, not a cup was dropped. That's incredible!
My hats are off to those brave women.
We
stopped for breaks along the way, up South Africa's western coast
and we hit the border of Namibia around 10. Then we had to unload
all of our luggage from a trailer that trialed (ha!) the bus.
The most unfriendly Afrikaans man in South Africa (and that's
saying something) drove the bus and helped us unload our luggage.
We then towed it over to the South Africa customs officials who
started going through them. Well, they started going through
the men's bags. They had a separate line for women. When it was
my turn, they saw I was from the U.S. and they let me through.
I just have an honest face, I guess. The guy in front of me opened
up his bag and right on top, maybe for easy access, was the current
issue of Hustler. I guess that's why it was the men for the men
and the women for the women. Laura had less luck. There must
have been no women on duty, because the ladies stood in a long
line, just holding their luggage. Finally, they were pulled over
to the men's side. I waited with Laura as the dour faced customs
official went through her stuff. I guess we were just unlucky,
they don't search every bus, only at random. Anyway, the customs
guy is going through everything, and he pulls out a bag full
of white powder. "What's this?" he asks.
Laura blanches. "It's...it's...washing powder!"
Uh oh, it's Omo! Omo is our new favorite brand of laundry detergent.
We all laughed a little and then we got back on the bus. More
pop, more Backstreet Boys, more driving.
At midnight we hit Keetmanshoop and some people got on board. Now the bus is silent, the music is finally off, and we're all sleeping. These two people get on and continue their loud conversation all the way through, the same pitch, up to three in the morning. But then, they were at the very center of the universe, and you can do that when all the sphere's of creation revolve around you.
6:30 a.m. we arrive in Windhoek and we get a lift to the Cardboard Box, a backpackers place and tourist office. There are bean bags spread about the floor and an American from Illinois is in the middle, dazed and trying to sleep. Her name was Sherri, and after a brief exchange, we thought, man, she's one whacked out chick. We sleep on the bean bags until we get a ride over to the Rivendell Guest House, and yes, I wanted to stay there because of the name. It's the last Homely House Before the Wilds, and after staying at the Hobbit House, I figured we had to stay there. So did Sherri, the whacked out former Togo Peace Corp volunteer from Illinois. The place was nice, but our room wasn't ready. So we left our things and wandered down to downtown Windhoek, capital of Namibia, formerly known as Southwest Africa, and under the control of South Africa. But in 1990 the country won its independence, though it still feels very South African. It was also a former colony of Germany, a first for us on our trip. A lot of white people, a lot of Afrikaans, Germans, and many of the businesses are run by whites. Oh, and more barbed wire. However, Namibia doesn't have a big population, and there are vast stretches of nothing. It's like Wyoming with more black people. In the downtown we found Cafe Schneider and we ate there, and Lord, they had donuts. Fresh made donuts, hot out of the grease. I had a half dozen and started to feel better. Then we took it easy, did some laundry, rested. That night we cooked in and talked with Sherri and after some sleep, she turned out not to be whacked out, but very nice and interesting and clever. We had a great talk with her and Bernard, the guy along with Veronika who run the place. Not the owners, the managers, but we'll get to the owners later on in our story.
Take
me to Crazy Kudu tour of Namibia