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3rd - 16th July
We spent almost an entire week enjoying the very generous
hospitality of the O'Shanns in Swakopmunt. Sue's cooking was
a significant step up from camp cooking. Andy took us all
out for a day to see the Lunar Landscapes in the desert around
Swakopmunt, as well as the Welwitschia plants. This plant
is one of the rarest and most interesting in the world. One
plant in the desert is estimated to be 1500 years old. They
consist of only two leaves with a deep root system.
We said fond farewells to Andy and Sue, and fattened up and
ready for more adventure the hillbillies pilled everything
(including the damn kitchen sink) into the old Land Rover
and off they set.
Our first destination was the Brandberg Mountain about 170km
North of Swakopmunt. Andy had given us a set of hand drawn
maps of the mountain, with GPS coordinates for the good camping
areas. Being blokes we were keen to test our our navigational
skills - gadget enhanced of course. The coordinates came in
pretty handy as the whole area around the mountain is festooned
with 4x4 tracks. With a grunt and a groan Nyathi was put into
low range 4 wheel drive and off we set into the foothills
of the mountain.
There is no organised campsite in the area, it is all free
bush camping. The camping area we had selected was absolutely
fantastic. Two spurs off the mountain encircled and almost
closed in - like a giant pincer - a pristine hidden valley.
Besides the few tyre tracks of previous campers where was
absolutely no sign of civilization. The silence and isolation
was incredibly captivating. The deafening silence left our
ears ringing (in the complete absence of sound, your ears
actually ring).
We started getting low on water after three days. In a desperate
attempt to stay in the valley Scott resorted to attempting
to dig a well in the sand of the river bed. After six feet
of digging with no luck he finally gave up. Fortunate really,
otherwise we just may still be there - real hillbillies.
While attempting to leave the Brandberg Nyathi decided to
spring another surprise on us. The clutch was playing up.
There was a minor leak in the clutch system (to be precise
the slave cylinder seal was not sealing properly). While attempting
to bleed the air out of the hydraulic system after topping
up the fluid we found out that the bleed bolt was stripped
and wouldn't refasten. Bugger! Bush mechanics to the rescue.
With a piece of cutoff bolt and two nuts we managed to rig
the system. With a fond farewell to the hidden valley and
a prayer winging its way to the Creator, we were off.
We managed to make it all the way to a little town called
Khorixas with no further clutch problems. The towns in Namibia
have fantastic names. Scanning the map is like reading a list
of planet names in a B-Grade Sci Fi movie. Khorixas, Outjo,
Otjiwarongo, Namutoni, Okaukuejo, Tsumeb. Try pronounce those
names after a few beers, I dare you.
In Khorixas we managed to locate a mechanic to aid our cause.
We were back in the familiar situation of hurry up and wait.
We've come to the conclusion that all mechanics work in the
same fashion, and it ain't smart. The owner (and chief mechanic)
generally rushes around looking harassed and extremely busy,
but generally achieves bugger all. All the assistants usually
actually do the work, but very slowly. Motorworld in Khorixas
was a significant case in point. They had about 10 assistants,
but the general work ethic seemed to revolve around watching
each other work. Typically one assistant would poke and prod
a vehicle for a while with all the rest standing around watching
in intense fascination. Then of course it was morning tea,
or lunch, or afternoon tea or knockoff time. All religiously
followed of course.
We were attempting to fix or replace the clutch slave cylinder
and replace the starter motor (our George mechanic had managed
to put a Perkins starter motor on our Land Rover engine).
It took 5 days to come to the conclusion that there were no
replacement starter motors in Namibia. Fortunately 5 days
was just enough time to replace the slave cylinder. Now -
I challenge anyone to attempt to keep themselves occupied
and sane in a place with a bizarre name like Khorixas. On
the very verge of dementia we finally packed up Nyathi, gave
her strict instructions to deal with the starter motor for
the time being, and off we set. We had a moment of excitement
when leaving Khorixas when Nyathi managed to overtake a motorised
vehicle for the first time on this trip. So it was a tractor,
and maybe it was pulling a trailer full of some form of agricultural
produce. Never the less, we overtook it.
We spent a night in Outjo (complete with pool tables, bar
and cable TV) before making an eager entrance into Etosha
National Park.
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