Soussesvlei

  Soussesvlei, Namibia
Tuesday, January 24, 2006

We only had one day left until we had to return the car, but we were determined to get maximum value out of it. So we attempted what most people around us were calling 'the impossible' - driving down to the Sousessvlei sand dunes and back in one day. We were told it would be a 4.5 hour drive each way - easily done! We thought... So off we set at 5am, whizzing over the gravel roads southwards bound. The roads were fine and we were making good time and enjoying the ever changing landscape.


That was, until we started to hit the bad road, where it had rained the night before. The roads are great in Namibia until it rains and they become rivers. One of the 'rivers' we passed through had even managed to wipe out the bridge in the gorge. We cautiously made our way through the only opening and had to get pushed out as the bottom of our car hit a rock. All part of the fun!

Because of the problems with the roads, we approached Sousessvlei 2 hours behind schedule, in the middle of the afternoon sun. There we hit the next snag in our journey - the river on the way to the biggest dune, number 43. Our little ol' 2WD would definitely NOT be able to cross it, we were told. I felt deflated - we had come all this way, braving our lives for...nothing? We paid the park entry fee anyway and decided to go and 'see what happens'. It was pretty cool scenery in the park anyway - the dunes are way cool - bright red and HUGE.


Unfortunately the river was just as we had been warned - high. After a bit of paddling around in the water we ascertained that our wee car just wouldn't make it through in one piece, so, very reluctantly, we gave up on seeing dune number 43. Instead we sat by the river waiting (and waiting) for a 4WD to come our way and give us a lift to the dunes. It was in vain.


Here is what we had missed out on :(


We had been told a better route to take back to Windhoek, so slowly-slowly we started out. We got halfway down the new route when the road started to go bad. This is strange, we thought, but soldiered on as we were told this is the only open route back. We came to a largish ditch. We hesitated slightly before plowing on in, to find ourselves well-and-truely stuck and the local Afrikaans farmer's wife fast approaching us looking slightly annoyed. She had tried to run out and prevent us from attempting the ditch but didn't quite make it in time, but never mind, my husband will pull you out, she said. I guess they don't get too many visitors in the region because she was wanted to chew the cud and all we could think of was the fast approaching night and all the miles we had to do to get back. The husband got their neighbours around and they got out the tow-rope and pulled our little ol' car out of the ditch while we stood around uncomfortably feeling like stoopid foreign FEMALE tourists.


We gave our heartfelt thanks and sped of. The farmer's wife had rung around several of her friends and ascertained that every single route leading us back to Windhoek had pretty much been rained out the night before. Frustrated, but determined, we decided to head back the way we had come in the morning.

And off we sped - it was a race against time. Nightfall was only hours away and storm clouds were fast approaching. We knew that as soon as it started to rain we would be stuck once again.

The washed out bridge had miraculously be fixed in the day. We punched our fists in the air in elation knowing that the worst was over. And then we hit the bad patch. It must have rained while we were at the dunes because the road was washed out all over the place. We made it through a few of the rivers, just. At times we could feel the car start to be pushed downstream in the current, but we always made it through! Then we hit a humungus patch of mud, stretching for 50metres. We knew that there was no way we could make it through the mud. It was 7pm and the nearest house we had passed was an hour back the way we had come. I nearly cried. Kirsty, always the practical one, scouted the region and reckoned we could off-road our way AROUND the mud. I was oh-so-skeptical but desperate, so decided to give it a go. My heart was literally in my mouth as I drove the car up off the road onto the desert around us and ploughed through the mud. Miraculously, we made it through. Even more miraculously, it was the last bad patch. We had made it!


At 9pm that night, after battling the last hour with the rain, we limped into our backpackers in Windhoek absolutely exhausted. We had done 'the impossible' and survived, just! I was still ready to cry - you wouldn't believe how good the beer at the bar was!