A breath of fresh sea air...and a touch of racism!
Trip Start Sep 15, 2012
138Trip End May 01, 2013
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Where I stayed
All of these innocent delays managed to return Pete to his bad mood and he made a bit of a pathetic attempt to assert his authority by driving like a knobhead and scaring some of his passengers to the point where we had to press the 'stop' button and ask him to calm the f**k down!
Bound for Swakopmund (A German influenced town on the coast of Namibia) and it is clear that people are ready for a break from the truck...
Arriving in Swako, Vikki and I skipped yet another 'activity briefing', got our stuff together and headed for Dunes Lodge - where the comedy of errors commenced..
When we arrived it seemed that the Dunes Lodge was being renovated. After some discussion we were guided towards an alternative accommodation without the promised indoor pool or billiards table we were looking forward to. So fussy, you may cry, but it was our one chance at some decadence in amongst all the sand, cold showers, long drops and wet flip-flop experiences at the side of the road.
We decided to take back some control by going to the Hotel Europa Hof for a beer and to blag the use of their free WiFi. With beer in hand and the Expedia web page up on the screen things became a lot more clear and we had booked ourselves into the ocean side Atlantic Villa Boutique Guesthouse a little further up the Swako coast before you could say sauer-kraut!
Whilst we were completing the booking we watched some mature SAFA/German people come in for an afternoon drink and were disgusted by one of them who growled loudly with each breath and listened in horror to the way they talked to Peter, the black bartender, whistling at him and clicking their fingers, telling him to remember who his customers were and finishing on a flourish which made our blood boil - 'These people need to be taught a lesson..'
Their attitude was so bad it sickened us (Peter had been wonderfully friendly to us and was trying to sort a transfer for us when they started yelling at him)
The 'taxi' as it turned out was a private car driven by the chef from the hotel! But it was cheap and we knew where he worked so we got in and put our trust in him. He was a nice lad and we forgave him when he was stopped by the police for not wearing his seatbelt - Vikki offering advice for him to be nice to the officer before he got out of the car - and shortly we arrived at our destination.
It was remote, to say the least, but modern and with good views of the ocean and sunset. When we arrived, the reception was locked and there was nobody to be found. We despaired. We just wanted to drop our stuff, get a nice shower and relax and this day was proving a little too much to take! Finally, at 2pm the receptionist returned form lunch (which it seems they observe religiously!) and, after a brief and mildly frustrating issue with the booking confirmation, we secured our deluxe, sea front room at discount price! Woo hoo! Clever Vikki and her bargain hunting ways...
The room was actually gorgeous; lots of glass and white minimalism - and terrific views out over the sea. We had simple pleasures; a toilet (with toilet paper and no spiders), a large hot gushing shower behind a glazed screen, a flat screen TV, charging points you don't have to fight for, kettle, coffee machine, fluffy towels, comfy bed and all the blinds and lights were electronically operated from a panel by the bed! The result was definitely worth the hassle it took to get there!
So we languished in our room, made a student meal of instant mash and curried veg soup, watched shit films on TV and quietly enjoyed each others company away from madness, clutter and chaos...