Namibia is a four-letter word. And the word is dust. It's nobody's fault, but today was the poorest so far....
The day began strangely at Omarunga. Breakfast was to be at 0600, with departure for Palmwag (as in a very gutteral 'Pal-um-vach') apparently to be at 0700. 0615 came, and the usual Muesli-and-Cornflakes bustle had not kicked in. It was still dark, and disembodied headtorches were wandering aimlessly around. The word overslept sprang immediately to mind. Then, with the encroaching light, came a cock-and-bull story about us being in a different time zone from the one we had gone to bed in, and it was therefore only 0515. What's that saying about being cabbage-like, but not green?
The day's drive was long, and seemed to take even longer than it should have. The intended road after Opuwo, where we had been just the other day, had become unavailable, so a detour had to be made. And then the road quality deteriorated to delay us further. The reason? The asphalt had given way again to gravel, which heralded billowing clouds of dust for the rest of the journey. Eyes had to remain tight shut, or lenses removed, for the remaining miles, about three hours' worth. Apparently I missed some rather spectacular scenery as we crossed a mountain pass. Ah well. Worse things happen at sea.
Palmwag is pretty much a dusty (although very well appointed) campsite in the middle of a vast dustbowl in the middle of nowhere. And yet, I am actually liking Namibia. There is just something about it.
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