Spizkoppe is a granite mountainous park between Swakopmund and Usakos in the Namib dessert. It exists today from the collapse of a 100 million year old volcano and repeated erosions that have characterized the rocks. It has been referred to as a ’hikers and rock-climbers paradise.’
Spizkoppe was our weekend camping destination, and my first experience outside of Windhoek. Since Owen’s truck was still getting repaired we got a ride with Allison and Alex. While Allison and Owen enjoyed some Windhoek lager, (it’s not illegal here as long as the driver isn’t drinking) I spent most of the time looking out the window. I was entertained by the different looking trees, the onset of wildlife and the large termite piles that stand taller then trees.
The closer we got to our destination, the worse the roads got and further the sunset. On more then one occasion the car bottomed out, and sounded as if it was going to loose a piece of needed equipment. We passed a few donkey carts, and I thought to myself- that could be our alternative mode of travel.
Upon our successful arrival, I asked Owen to come with me to find an appropriate place to go to the washroom. After all, he had more ‘African wilderness’ experience, had our flashlight and I needed him to stand guard. He inspected an area and suggested that it looked sufficient. As I finished my business, I heard a noise… a scurrying on the ground. I quickly turned around and there before my eyes- less than 1 meter away-appeared a black scorpion. (This is the part of the story where you gasp and act as shocked and surprised as I was!)
The site of this foreign and dangerous creature gave me shivers and I can say with confidence that it’s not something I ever want to experience again. I later learned that it was a Parabuthus, one of the most poisonous scorpions in the world; needless to say, it was hard sleeping in a tent that night.
Saturday: Rock Pools and Suicidal Rock Climbing…
It started in the early hours of the morning and proceeded to worsen each hour, making sleep almost impossible to achieve. There are over 400 bird species inhabiting the area and it sounded like they were engaged in an orchestra outside our tent. Later that day I discovered that one of them even left a welcoming present on my bag, resembling some type of regurgitated meal.
On Saturday morning we started our journey towards one of the rock pools. A rock pool occurs from rain water in the rocks. Owen and I brought along two girls that were apart of our camping group that weekend, Shayde and Rayne. Aside from there complaining about the walk there, they were good company. We hiked about 30 meters up to reach the pool and spend most of the afternoon sitting in the shade and swimming in the cool waters. The view was unbelievable.
After the hot hours of the day passed, Owen and I decided it was time for some rock climbing adventures. We set out across the plains to the highest looking peak. As we walked towards the peak of 1800 meters, our mountain climbing abilities began to be questionable. Already my shoes were filled with little thorns, and my body temperature was rising, but I was determined to conquer at least apart of this mountain.
Owen was the designated leader and he started a path up the rocks, which I inevitably tried to follow without looking back. In Namibia, unlike provincial parks in North America, there are few trials or warning signs, we were literally discovering new territory. We climbed over rocks, through dirt, past unknown plants and beside beetles, grabbing onto anything that was sturdy enough to hold our body weight.
Fianlly after about an hour we were closer to out goal. We wanted to reached the side tip of the mountain inorder to come down on the other side. We were 20 meters from our destination when we were confronted with a disappointing realization. We needed ropes and actual mountain climbing equipment to finish the rest of the climb; sadly, our Spiderman abilities were not enough.
It was far before this point that I started to worry about our descent. The way up was steep, so steep that one slip could end in tragedy. I know some of you might be thinking, ‘why would they try to achieve this outrageous climb in the first place?’ Well, looking at the mountain was deceiving and the rocks looked smaller. Furthermore, you need to remember that I was following a man, and lets face it, there sense of direction has not always been the greatest. J
When we finally made it down, I was overwhelmed with a rejuvenated appreciation for solid ground. I had made it, in one piece and with only minor scratches. Although my legs did feel like they had been twisted and stretched beyond normality, but hey, I was grateful they were still attached to my body.
When we arrived back at camp, our fellow campers were preparing for another climb (as if one wasn’t enough). The purpose of this climb was to view the sunset over the endless landscape. We had about ten minutes to reflect on our life achievement and digest the last few hours, before grabbing some much needed South Africa wine and heading out. This climb, thankfully, can be considered the baby Spizkoppe. We proceeded to watch the sky transform into a combination of vivid colours, before the sun was swallowed by the dessert.
Sunday: Rock Paintings and Bushman Trails
Allison and Alex decided to bring us to ‘Bushman Paradise.’ This landmark consists of a trail sign and a metal chain that helps to elevate you to the first climbing plateau. Once to the top it’s free roaming and once again no trails signs exist. There we saw thousand year old rock paintings done with red markings. They were barely visible since they have been damaged over the years by people throwing substances on them to make them brighter. It’s hard to believe that these rock paintings were created by Bushman tribes roaming around at the beginning of civilization. It’s even harder to believe that they survived in dessert conditions that almost led to my demise on more then one occasion!
Life after Spizkoppe….
Last week (April 11) Owen finally received his truck back from the shop. His 4X4 had spend over three weeks being repaired and picking it up was a joyous occasion, even Penguin the dog was excited to see it. We got the truck just in time for our weekend travel plans.
The highlight of the trip was climbing ‘Big Daddy,’ the biggest sand dune in Sossusvlei Park and the second largest in the world. We also visited Walvis Bay, the place Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie stayed in 2006 when they adopted a child from Namibia. Walvis Bay is located on the Atlantic coast and the temperature dropped over 10 degrees as we got closer to the ocean. Lastly we visited Swakopmund, a German settlement also on the coast. There we enjoyed some European bake goods and gelato.
The trip was successful aside from a few minor setbacks. The truck appeared to be in good working condition until we drove over a bump and the hood flew up blocking our view! The hood was readjusted on the truck that evening, but it continued to pop off from the latch every few kilometres, as if to tease us that it might fly up again. The second mishap occurred when Owen locked his keys in the truck, but luckily we had a spare at our hotel.
Enjoy the photos!
Spizkoppe at sunset
Spizkoppe at sunset
On the way to Spizkoppe
On the way to Spizkoppe
Our tent
Our tent
A view of our campsite
A view of our campsite
Campsite
Campsite
View from the rock pool
View from the rock pool
Swimming!
Swimming!
Friendly Africans
Friendly Africans
Our nest in the rock
Our nest in the rock
Tadpole from the pool
Tadpole from the pool
Where's Owen?
Where’s Owen?
The climb
The climb
Holding on tight!
Holding on tight!
Nice view
Nice view
Watching the sunset
Watching the sunset
Sunset
Sunset
The rock might crush me...
The rock might crush me…
Another view of our campsite
Another view of our campsite
Bushman's Paradise with Alex and Allison
Bushman’s Paradise with Alex and Allison
The climb
The climb
Rock paintings
Rock paintings
Rock paintings
Rock paintings
Alex
Alex
Cave photo of Allison
Cave photo of Allison
A scoporion in Usakos
A scoporion in Usakos
Goodbye Spizkoppe
Goodbye Spizkoppe
The 4X4
The 4X4
Sossusvlei Park entrance
Sossusvlei Park entrance
Sand Dune
Sand Dune
Ostrich family with babies!
Ostrich family with babies!
Beetle footprints
Beetle footprints
Early climb
Early climb
Halfway to the top
Halfway to the top
Top of 'Big Daddy'
Top of ‘Big Daddy’
Tired
Tired
We made it!
We made it!
The descent
The descent
Owen is the dot in the distance
Owen is the dot in the distance
Emptying
Emptying
It's dry
It’s dry
b3_16
Where's Owen?
Where’s Owen?
Footprints in the sand
Footprints in the sand
I spot with my little eye...an Oryz my Birthday dinner!
I spot with my little eye…an Oryz my Birthday dinner!
Ostrich crossing
Ostrich crossing
Tropic of Capricorn
Tropic of Capricorn
Take note of the hood
Take note of the hood
Abandoned Ship
Abandoned Ship
Red Tide
Red Tide
Swakopmund
Swakopmund
Ewwwwwwww
Ewwwwwwww
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Posted by brittgoesroundtheworld
Once Upon a Time in Windhoek…
April 7, 2008
Once upon a time there was an explorer named Brittany the Conqeur. She travelled to far away lands in search of new adventure, experience and excitement. Although Canada had provided a comforting home for many years, and will surely be missed, it was time for something new.
She embarked on a lonnnngggg journey across the Atlantic Ocean, UK and Sahara Dessert. After many time zones and mediocre plane meals later, she arrived at her destination: Windhoek, the capital city of Namibia. This journey deducted approximately forty-five hours from her saintly, as she spend two days exploring rather peculiar things in airport terminals to fight the evil power of JET LEG. But, she did make some interesting discoveries in Cape Town International airport.
She found new foods of ‘smoked meat’ chips, and coconut flavoured Halls. Then she found her most ironic discovery, post cards reading ‘always be prepared,’ with a night scene of the city and attached with a condom. This, along with the surprise greeting of a large black beetle (named Beatty) in Brittany’s bathroom stall, was her first experience of Africa.
When Brittany finally arrived in Windhoek, after eating some type of unidentifiable meat on the plane, her Prince Charming (this may be stretching the truth a bit, but we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt) was there. He picked her up in a horse drawn carriage, also known as, a old beat-up Hyundai and they travelled off together into the sunset.
The Beginning…
Okay, enough with the third person referrals and fairy-tale associations….we all know that Africa is anything but fairy-tale like. I’ve been in Windhoek for two weeks now and it’s been quite the adjustment to my usual routine.
The biggest difference so far, aside from the expected poverty and excessive meat eating, has been with matters of security. I often feel like I’m kept in a jail, as every window and door has some kind of metal contraption. The windows are covered with metal bars, where nothing more then a hand could possibly slip through. Whereas the ordinary doors are aided with accordion-like metal gates. The whole house is also protected under an alarm system, plus the entire property is surrounded by a cement wall reaching around six feet tall. Furthermore, this cement wall is topped off with metal thorns, while others walls have barb wire. To add to this, every house on our street has at least one dog. I know this because I can hear them barking regularly. Pretty intense isn’t it? There’s no such thing as spying on your neighbours here, everybody (at least in this part of the city) lives in there own secluded world.
Although I’ve heard that Windhoek, compared to other African cities, is a safe place crime wise, I tend not to go out at night. When I do leave my residence during the day, I am extremely aware of my surroundings. Violence isn’t the issue here, it’s theft, and everyone reminds you of this risk. For instance, parking your car in a restaurant parking lot means tipping someone to watch your car. They have people, usually men, that are designated ‘vehicle watchers,’ I don’t know there exact job title so this is what I’m calling them. They watch your car/truck while you go eat dinner, do some shopping etc. When you come back, if your vehicle is still in there, you tip them.
Perhaps my most naive adventure so far, was during my first week when I decided to view the National Gallery of Namibia. I was expecting to see some traditional African crafts, maybe some well-known Namibian artists and possibly even a little contemporary work. Some of you might know that last Fall there was a traveling art exhibition titled Snap Judgments that visited Canada’s National Gallery and showed many up-and-coming African contemporary photographers, including a Windhoek artist. Since I saw the exhibit, I thought my expectations were somewhat accurate. It wasn’t until I arrived at the Gallery that I realized what a difference there is between Canada’s National Gallery and Namibia’s.
As I walked into the main gallery space I started viewing a selection of prints and charcoal drawings. The art historian in me started to study the images. My eyes drew toward the name of the artist and title of the piece, and I stumbled upon a Price! Yes, every piece of work in the room was for SALE, and at a small price too! Contrary to Canada’s Gallery that owns a permanent art collection worth millions of dollars, and also showcases visiting exhibitions, in Namibia it seems there Gallery is more of a commercial art space. I’m sure this is because the government has more important things to worry about like health care!
As I continued to venture in the gallery, I was approached by a young man. He looked like he was no more then 16, and was wearing a side-ways ball cap and low-rise jeans. Believe it or not, he was one of the artist’s showcasing work. He proceeded to show me his artwork and explain each piece to me, to try to make a sale of course. To me, this was the other big surprise. In Canada’s Gallery, all of the artists are fairly established, in there later years of life, and the majority of them are dead! Also, if you saw an artist explaining his/her work in the gallery they would be followed with a posy of eager art enthusiasts.
I also learned that this artist, who introduced himself as Actofel, goes to an art school in Katutura, which is a black township here and also where poverty is a reality. I have actually been to his school since then, to view another exhibit, and have met him once more. The exhibit at his school was similar to the one in the gallery.
Most of the work I saw in these exhibitions was quite good, and dealt with themes of transformation, vegetation, poverty, and suffering. Some of the work combined recyclable materials, which is great because Namibia does not have a recycling system, something else that was surprising for me.
Overall, the artwork is comparable to traditional forms of African craft, as designs that appear in some African basketry and materials are relevant in the prints. But, a western influence is also reminiscent through the label ‘Coca-cola,’ that appeared on a few of the assembled recycled art pieces.

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