(first posted 1/1/2013) The Queen of Sheba said about Solomon: half was not told to me. This is how I feel about my first visit to Namibia this past winter holiday. Yes, the Fish River Canyon and Dooievlei at Sossusvlei were impressive. But it’s the people of the country who will linger in our memories and make us return.
Our first overnight stop is the Hobas rest camp near the Fish River Canyon. It’s a tidy, well-kept camp of Namibian Wildlife Reserves, with helpful staff. After a visit to the lookout at the Fish River Canyon the previous night (top photo), we depart early the next morning. We drive to Aussenkehr along the blue rift of the canyon on the C37 against the Orange River.
The endless green vineyards at Aussenkehr look unreal in this parched landscape, as do the hundreds of little grass huts that the seasonal workers from the north of the country build next to the road. The road from here to Rosh Pinah initially reminds you of a moonscape, but later on, as you get closer to the Orange River, there are plenty of trees and spots where you can pull over and admire the river.
Our speed on the gravel road varies between 60 km/h and 90 km/h, depending on the road condition. We have to stop a few times to let the Peugeot 404 cool down, because after emergency repairs in Springbok its fan mechanism wasn’t engaged again.
Rosh Pinah is a mining town that looks as if it’s experiencing a boom. There are plenty of new businesses and there’s a bustle of people and vehicles. The enormous zinc mine near here is the biggest in Africa and lead is also excavated here. From here there’s a beautiful tar road to Aus, almost 170 km further. This village’s main road winds up a slight hill in amongst the houses. Outside the Aus Bahnhof Hotel (German for “railway hotel”) colourful flags of several countries flap in the wind and while we get fuel from the Namib Garage, I buy a Namibia bumper sticker.
We drive along the railway, past Aus’s beautiful ivory-coloured Lutheran church with its red roof, and head for Helmeringhausen.
Dusk is approaching by the time we turn off the tar road to the C13 north. The wide landscape of the Neisip Plain beckons us forward and the grass plains next to the road look spectacular. At the end of the plain the Tiras mountains are on our left and the Rooirand on the right. We are now near our first overnight stop.
The Farm at Tiras
The sign says Tiras Camp. We are about 65 km from Aus and turn right to the Kochs family’s farm and follow a jeep track of red sand. Klaus-Peter Koch receives us with a smile and says there’s also a chalet at the camp site. We are exhausted and will sleep in the chalet tonight, thank you very much. The 450 km from Hobas to here did take us 9½ hours, after all.
The camp site is on a koppie (small hill) opposite the main road. Our chalet has a stoep (veranda/porch) and a braai (barbeque grill) with a beautiful view and the electricity for the lights and hot water is generated by the sun.
Shortly after breakfast the next morning Klaus-Peter comes driving up in his Series II Land Rover bakkie (pickup), bringing two bags of camel thorn wood, apologizing for the price. It comes from far. “You can see there are no trees here.” But it’s prime wood and three pieces are enough for a braai for two. At dusk I decide to explore the farm.
I take a jeep track through long grass. Here you have to know what you’re doing driving-wise, because under the grass of the middelmannetjie the gravel and rocks are higher than you’d expect in places. Initially I feel the rocks bump against my steering mechanism, and I realize the rubber housings around the arms have been stripped away. My brakes also start fading and I have to pump them more and more. If a ditch were suddenly to appear in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to brake in time.
Klaus-Peter warned me that grass accumulates under your vehicle and can catch alight due to the heat of the exhaust system. You can smell it very quickly. Then you have to get out in a flash and carefully push the grass away with a stick. The next morning I drive the 45 km to Helmeringhausen to have the brakes adjusted.
En route I see an old Mercedes Benz truck parked next to the road. Next to it is a newish Isuzu double-cab bakkie on its axles, completely burnt out. Even the alloy rims are ashes. The driver of the truck says it’s his brother’s bakkie that caught fire after he drove it in the grass veld.
The Mechanic of Helmeringhausen
The road to Helmeringhausen winds through koppies, and in two places I have to drive through drifts of water. To the left of Helmeringhausen’s main road is a general dealer with a liquor store, fuel pumps and the garage. To the right is the farmers’ association’s open-air museum and the Helmeringhausen Hotel.
Here, Janus Kotzé, the local mechanic, tells me how everything – from the tools in the workshop to the petrol pumps –works on solar power and how he builds an Uri pipe car every year. Even on their farm the windpumps are now replaced with solar power.
In the shop I hear there is a dispute over who actually owns the name Helmeringhausen,because officially it’s not a town yet. You can get everything here – from clothing irons you heat up on a stovetop to good wine and even a Helmeringhausen clothing range consisting of shirts, Tshirts, jackets and caps, all with its logo of two fan-tailed meerkats. A short while later, Janus quickly helps me to bleed and repair the 404’s brakes in the workshop. On the drive back I see someone lying in the middle of the road.
It’s a woman, and there are two people with her. She fell off her motorbike and hurt her leg, and now she doesn’t want to move until help arrives. They’re from Durban and on day six of a three-week trip. Their support bakkie with a nurse is on its way. And I wonder: whatever happened to all the insurance company helicopters that will allegedly come and pick you up anywhere in Africa? Some distance further on I see two other bikers next to the road. The one is lying down and the other one is making shade for him. The one lying down complains of a sore wrist and says he thinks he’s cracked some ribs. He’s also a member of the Durban group. What on earth happened? He was admiring the landscape, and then hit a patch of sand. Next thing he’s doing a somersault. The BMW is a writeoff and they’re also waiting for help.
Later that day we drive to another part of the farm with some beautiful rock formations. The biggest formation is called “Elephant” and the other one was christened “Mussolini” after the Second World War. Nobody can really remember why. This part of the farm, called Alt Tiras, is the route the German colonists took inland in their oxwagons from Lüderitzbucht because there was a waterhole. “Tiras” is Nama for “the place where jackals drink”.
The red dunes beckon
The next morning we drive 7 km south along the C13 towards Aus before we turn right (west) on the D707. It’s a back road of about 120 km, which traces an arc back northwards. Someone discouraged us from taking the D707, but according to Klaus-Peter the road is in good condition. He also says that we’ll be able to see the Namib’s red dunes on this road. And he’s right.
First, you only see the mountains to the right that look as if they’ve been thrown here from heaven onto the grass landscape. And then, for the first time, I set my eyes on the rolling red dunes of the Namib. I feel the same way I felt when I first saw the sea. And although the dunes disappear later on, the Tiras Mountains still tower to our left. I enjoy the gravel road, but the rocks on the final stretch before Spes Bona are a bit much and I start feeling sorry for the 404.
Spes Bona is indicated on the map, but it’s basically a farmstead set on either side of the road. We turn left at the Tjunction on the C27 to Betta, a welcome rest in the desert. Betta has fuel pumps, a shop and small eatery, as well as a neat camp site. There is no grass, but there are shade awnings, a tidy ablution block and a lapa (thatched roof structure) built of twigs.
From Betta we head further north along the C27 towards Sesriem. The road is bad and the 404’s brakes start going soft again. Finally we turn right on the D845 and 14 km later left on the C19, towards Solitaire. About 5 km later we turn right onto the D854 to the Tsauchab river camp. This final stretch of gravel of 35 km is so good that we drive at 90 km/h.
The farm on the Tsauchab River
After 300 km and a six-hour drive from the Tiras camp we turn into the Tsauchab River Camp. The road runs to the farmhouse, which is also the reception room, shop, bar, restaurant and reading room. But on either side of the path are several sculptures that owner Johan Steyn welded together from pieces of scrap metal. There are birds, dogs, a rhino, trucks, wagons and even a gardener. It’s wonderful to see how he’s transformed ordinary objects into works of art. When we stop, his wife, Nicky, welcomes us.
No farming is done any more, and the 7 127 ha farm has been set up for tourists. We get a map with the path to our camp site. It’s some distance from the house in a stretch of the Tsauchab River’s dry bed. The camp sites are so far from each another that you’re not even aware of other people.
By four we’ve pitched our camp under a huge wild fig tree and it’s still a hot 35ºC. Our shower and basin are a few meters to the right in the riverbank and our toilet quite a few meters to the left, cemented in under a tree.
Early the next morning we wake from an unearthly sound that sounds like a creaking door. We finally realize it’s rock pigeons. The other notable bird voice comes from a beautiful little crimson-breasted shrike. It’s a tubby, black little bird with the brightest red patch on its breast.
The service at Tsauchab is good: the donkey at the little bathroom was fired up for us the previous night and the candles around our camp were lit. In the morning the braais and bins are cleaned.
Sossusvlei and the “Oerwald”
We are at Sossusvlei’s gate at 06:40, and five minutes later the gate opens so we can hit the tar road down to Sossusvlei. There we resignedly pay R100 each to take the Landie shuttle to the vlei (low flat valley and/or seasonal lake bed) . Initially you wonder what the fuss is about.
But as you go higher and higher up the dunes, you realize what a singular phenomenon it is.
The 1.1 km walk to Dooievlei over loose sand in the afternoon sun gets you, but it’s worth it.
The dead, black tree trunks on the white sand, etched against the red dunes and green sky, are something to see. They are estimated to be about 600 years old. The climate is too dry for the wood to rot away, there are no insects to devour them and no wind to blow them over or weather them down.
We head back to the Tsauchab River Camp. I realise that when the station wagon isn’t loaded, you have to deflate the tyres to 1.8 bar in front and 1.7 bar at the back. That way the back of the Peugeot isn’t so loose on the gravel road. The Kumho LT (light truck) 195/80 15 tyres I’d fitted specially for the journey are well up to the task.
Johan wants to show us Tsauchab’s wonderful secret. It’s 11 km from the farmstead and you need a 4×4. En route he first shows us the San rock art. The Oerwald (the name’s a mix of Afrikaans and German) is a place where a warm water spring originates in the river bed, surrounded by an enormous wild fig forest.
We rock-hop over the river and enter the wood. The dead vlei at Sossus may be impressive, but here you’re well aware you’re in Namibia. Here, among the trees, it feels as if you’re in another world. There is only one camp site and a tidy bathroom and donkey, but it’s enough for a big group.
Maltahöhe, Mariental and Mechanic No.2
Today we pack up and head for Maltahöhe on the D850 which runs right by the farm entrance. It’s a good gravel road with two steep asses. The closer you get to Maltahöhe, the more the mountains make way for plains and thorn trees.
We buy droëwors at a tiny shop on the main road and stop at the Maltahöhe Hotel that dates back to 1907. The perfectionist Arno Rahn runs the place, which has a tidy, spacious but companionable bar, dining room, curio shop, beer garden and guest room block. Even the dogs know exactly where they’re supposed to lie, and GPS co-ordinates on a wall direct you to the toilets!
After a fun stop we unenthusiastically hit the tar road to Mariental. After the guys at the Ford/Mazda garage adjust our brakes, we stock up on biltong, put in Puma petrol and exchange our last dollars for rands at the Wimpy on the main road. Then we carry on further north on the B1 highway. About 11 km later we turn right onto the C20 tar road to Stampriet. It’s real Kalahari grass veld.
One of the landmarks of Stampriet is the row of tall palm trees at Elnatan, the Afrikaans private school in town. The Kalahari Farmhouse is a few hundred metres north of town, not far from the Elnatan school. It’s tidy, with a pleasant reception room, dining room and cottages. Every camp site has electricity, a braai and light. The ablution block is spacious and clean, and you’re surrounded by vineyards.
The next morning Marius “Tollo” Garbers, resident mechanic for the Gondwana Lodge group’s fleet of Land Rovers, quickly tightens the 404’s cylinder head with a torque wrench, as well as the carburetor, which had shaken loose. Then we head south along the C15 past Gochas, all long the course of the Auob River, to the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park.
The farms here change every two to three kilometres. There are beautiful farmyards with tall trees, lawns, gardens and farmlands. The farms are sliced up lengthways across the riverbed, each with a piece on either side of the river.
The Kalahari farm
About 13 km from the Mata-Mata border post we turn left to the Kalahari Farmstall on the farm Gemsbokpan. It’s a real farmyard with goats and sheep, a windpump and geese. The restaurant and farmstall have a beautiful view of the farmyard. Penny, who comes from Damaraland, pours us delicious coffee. Marica van Rooyen is a ball of friendly enthusiasm and convinces us that although we will make it to Mata-Mata, we’ll never reach Twee Rivieren by sunset.
While we walk around and explore the place, her husband, Christo, a mechanical engineer and encyclopedia of stories, comes over for a chat. He tells us the big double windmill on the yard is his own invention and that the goat ewes raise lambs rejected by the sheep ewes.
I’ve heard a lot about the Namibian Uri pipe car, and when Christo offers to go and show us the dunes, I’m all fired up. The engine is a Toyota 2-litre turbodiesel and it goes like the wind up the dunes, even though it’s a rear-wheel drive vehicle. We drive to the highest dune on the farm. On this dune is a dune to which water is pumped, and from there the water flows to each camp under gravity. Very clever.
Breakfast first
Before long we experience a true Kalahari sunset. Christo tells us the camel thorns produce more seeds during dry years and that it has to first pass through an animal’s digestive system before it can germinate as the head is too hard otherwise. He digs in the fine sand and shows us how the grass conserves the moisture from the past rainy season, which was a good one. Now we know how the grass survives here.
The dining room is filled with delicious Kalahari lasagne and salads, and the next morning we experience another first: springbok wors (sausage) for breakfast. Afterwards we’re sorry that we hadn’t rather stayed over here and taken day trips into the Kgalagadi.
Each one of the three farms we stayed at were completely different from each other, and each farmer and his wife made a plan in their own way. They know the art of making you yearn for your next visit. The open road back to Stellenbosch via Twee Rivieren, Upington, Calvinia and Vanrhynsdorp is an adventure on its own, but cruising at 90 km/h in our veteran car we are at peace with the world and have plenty of memories of this singular country to ponder on the long road home.
The Botha’s other back roads trip, across remote South Africa, is here.
What a delightful road-trip story! I had no knowledge of Namibia and am delighted to learn something of its German history and loved seeing all the German-sounding names throughout your story. I’m not wise to the ways of Peugeot, especially on relatively primitive roads, but I was surprised by all the repairs you needed.
Your story reminds me of stories of road trips across the United States a century ago. Roads didn’t exist across large sections of the West; the further east you traveled, the more likely you were to find roads, though most of them were dirt. Sometimes a road had been improved to gravel; in the 1910s you started, just started, to see brick sometimes.
I was aware that Namibia had a German colonial history, on which Dawid goes into more detail below, but I was surprised to see that there are so many German placenames and so much German linguistic influence there today. I would have thought that the stamp left on the country by German rule was pretty shallow, and would have been long wiped out from decades of British/South African involvement.
Dear Jim Grey,
Namibia was first Deutsch Südwest-Afrika after the Scramble for Africa by European powers in the 19th century. During WWI troops from the then Union of South Africa (formed in 1910 after the two Republics and two colonies in the area were united by the British after the Anglo-Boer War 1899-1902) occupied the German Colony. After the war the League of Nations gave the area to South Africa to govern in trust. It was more or less treated as a fifth province and called Suidwes-Afrika (South West Africa).
The area became an independent country in 1990 and was renamed Namibia – after the Namib desert that stretches along it whole coastline. It is a fairly big country, 318 sq miles, but sparsely populated, 2m plus. That is about 6 people per sq mile!
We only covered the southern region and hope to still do the centre and north in future visits. Because of the sparse population it is not economical to tar the majority of the roads, but the country is known for its fairly well maintained gravel roads. Most of the interior of South Africa was the same during my childwood travels with our family.
I have since found out that if roads are quite bumpy and corrugated, drum brakes – all round on the 404 wagons – tend to go out of adjustment and you have less and less pedal pressure! Once we hit the tarred roads I had no more problems.
German is still very much spoken in Namibia – I could practice mine a bit – but the official language since independence is English. Ironically Afrikaans (the simpified and more modern form of Dutch spoken in Southern Africa by about 4m mother tongue speakers) is still the lingua franca and I could speak it everywhere with all racial and cultural groups.
It is a fascinating country and surely worth a visit, even if you have to come as far as the US!
Dawid: Why did the cylinder head need re-torquing? Was there some symptom that called for that?
I still have the distinctive little Peugeot brake adjusting tool: a flat bar with a square drive end, right?
On the first day of our trip, about 540 km from home, we had to open up the engine becuase there was no compression on cylinders 1 and 4: bent valve stems! That was the Friday night in the town of Springbok. Four new valves were sourced in Cape Town by a Peugeot club member and brought to Springbok by the mechanic’s daughter. By Monday afternoon we were on our way again. The aluminium head had to be torqued after 500 kms, but was only done much later at Stampriet because that was the first place I could get a cold engine to a mechanic! If it was a new car, we would probably have to abort the trip…. A club member from Johannesburg offered to bring his 404 wagon down for me if we could not go further. Our load would not fit into any of my other curbside classics!
Some friends of ours rented a Land Rover for a trip through parts of Namibia, and absolutely raved about it. Beautiful scenery, and the locals were very friendly. Their description, as well as this piece certainly gives me the desire to go. Now I jusy need a 404 wagon to do it in.
what a delightfull journey,i was planning to sell my 1969 peugeot 404 wagon at some point before this coming summer but after reading this i am planning to keep it for ever.thank you very much& happy new year to you&every one.
What an unbelievably beautiful country. I really enjoyed this piece.
Dawid,
I enjoyed the account of your trip very much. The land formations remind me of parts of southern Utah.
On your next submission, please provide translations for some of the key elements of your writeup. Something tells me that the “donkeys” found at your camp sites are somewhat different than those that we find in petting zoos. I can only guess at what braiis, vlei, et al are.
You might consider doing a CC on the Uri Pipe cars. I’d like to know more.
I added some of the translations to the text. braii = barbeque grill; vlei = low,flat valley or seasonal lake; lapa = thatched hut; stoep = veranda or porch.
I recommend you get the Oxford Dictionary of South African English!!! Yes, it does exist! A “donkie” (Eng; donkey) is a nickname for a wood or coal fired hot water system in SA.
Yes, I will do something on the Uri. In fact I can send you a road test from CAR magazine.
dcbotha@adept.co.za
What strikes me is how much all this scenery reminds me of the deserts of the US West. With only a few exceptions, if you’d told me these were shot in California, Nevada and Eastern Oregon, I would have no reason not to believe it. Makes me want to head out in the old Chinook….
There lots of similarities, that’s for sure and some other similarities with the Tabernas desert in Spain, where some spaghetti westerns movies was filmed. These red dunes would had been at home in a John Ford or Sergio Leone movie. 😉
My thoughts exactly. Makes me want to hit Steens.
As part of a trip to South Africa in October, we rented a car and drove east from Cape Town about 300 miles along the coast and into the interior. We liked how picturesque it was, but I especially enjoyed the feeling that I had gone back to a simplier, less crowded time. Dawid’s article brought back some pleasant memories.
Thank you for a very fascinating and beautiful post. The photography reminds me of New Mexico (where I live), the American southwest, and of one of my favorite films, “The Gods Must Be Crazy”. I’ve heard of grass fires started by catalytic converters, but have never seen a burned out vehicle like in your photos.
Thank you for the fantastic story! Sounds to me like a place where you need a vehicle with a bit more ground clearance. Perhaps a nice Ford Bronco or International Scout!
My Peugeot 404 utes,two of them,had seven inch ground clearance and with the very low first gear would pull like a tractor.They would travel across rough Australian ground,sand,rocky terrain like you would not believe.The five 404 sedans would almost feed the wheels around corners,minimal stress for the driver at the steering wheel.Suspensions,ride,almost on a par with 60s/70s XJ6 Jaguars.Have only been a passenger in a 404 wagon on a windy mountain road and that impressed me.404 vehicles,like many,have a few negatives,but they are miniscule in comparison to many others and the durability,handling,comfort,silence,brakes,economy,vision,manual gearshift and the supremely simple mechanics are legendary.
Outstanding article. Anyone who takes their car on such an adventure, and a car that has some life experience, has my respect. Very beautiful scenery in a place I would like to see one day.
Thank you, Dawid, for telling and showing us about your adventure. The country does in some ways resemble the more arid areas of the western US – areas that I wish I’d spent more time exploring….
I haven’t seen in person a vehicle fire caused by a catalytic converter, but I did see an episode of COPS in which they chased someone cross-country in a rural area near Spokane, Washington, and one of the police cars started the dry grass underneath it on fire, which ended up completely gutting the car.
Awesome place reminds me of outback Aussie, Im looking for some Peugeot wagon rear shocks for a handling up grade for my 59 Hillman I guess if they stand up to this sort of treatment going too fast round corners in an old Minx should be easy
Wow, just absolutely WOW – beautifully written and photographed, thank you very much for sharing this with us. This makes me want to get in a car and just keep driving until the wheels fall off. Having a neat little Pug 404 wagon as a travel partner adds a whole other dimension of awesomeness. I can’t think of too many things I’d rather do than sit behind the wheel of a car like that while it’s bouncing and humming down the road surrounded by these incredible landscapes.
Namibia is a country I don’t know all that much about, although I’ve always imagined it would look somewhat different than this. Like others have said, some of these pictures are reminiscent of rural areas in the western United States.
From what you’ve written, is it safe to say that there are relatively few hostilities lingering between Namibians and South Africans from the series of conflicts that took place last century? I know we’re supposed to stay away from politics on here, and I’m all for that, but I’m just curious regarding the current situation – no opinion on my part.
Great story and photos, Dawid !
I am late here, but this was a beautifully photographed and told travelogue. Thank you for the well-guided tour of a place that I will probably never see for myself. Taking the trip in a 404 makes it even better.
Dawid, what a fascinating read this was, and excellent photos too! I enjoyed your earlier article immensely too, and look forward to hopefully reading about more of your travels!
Wow, what a trip! Thanks for taking us along for the ride, Dawid.
Dawid,
What a great trip it was you had – stumbled upon this article by pure accident! was doing a virtual tour of Namibia through google’s help.
Sitting in Dubai, I had to take some time to read everything – the stories, the photos and the old Peugeot!
beautiful car peugeot 404
These two roadtrips are among the best stories I’ve read at CC — remarkable trips, scenery, and of course a wonderful car. I missed the opportunity to read these when they were first posted, so I’m glad to read it even nine years later. I enjoyed every part of reading about both roadtrips. Though I’ve never been outside of North America, if I were to pick one place in the world to visit, it would be Southern Africa, so these articles were great to read from that perspective.
Baie dankie vir die lekker stories!
what an amazing story and what wonderful photographs to accompany it! I had no idea Namibia was once a German colony. This story makes me want to strike out and do some traveling. I am also gaining a new appreciation of Puegeot automobiles.