Due to some political unrest (read: recent attacks on tourists by armed bandits from Angola) we were directed to the Southern route into Namibia, crossing the Namibian border along the Trans-Kalahari highway from Maun, Botswana. After a midway stop to camp for the night we arrived at Windhoek, the capitol of Namibia, late the following morning. That night, we were treated to a bunk bed in a hostel shared with another couple. We were even treated to hot showers that we didn't have to share with insects the size of our fists. The next day we mounted our truck and departed for Northern Namibia and the massive salt pans at Etosha National Park. Namibia is about half the size of the state of Alaska but the roads are surprisingly well maintained thanks to South Africa's war against Angola.

It had taken us a week to realize that the kiwi couple had specifically targeted us as the recipients for their vote off the island and we were at a complete loss for the reason. Later, we suspected it was because we were new and "soft" as we had only chosen to sign up for 3 of the 9 weeks of travel they had signed up for from Nairobi to Cape Town. We were becoming more aware of the individual personalities of our fellow travelers and we had compiled our own secret list of the folks into whom we intended to invest our time and effort in the hope of forging friendships. Sabotage and acts of favoritism were developing along alliance lines. Several had committed to remaining neutral. One member of the group, Disco Dave, was personified as the Switzerland of the group and admirably held a neutral position. Others seemed to play both sides of the fence serving their best interests for the moment. In an attempt to polarize the group the kiwi's termed us Sepo's (kiwi lingo for septic tank yanks) and while dressed in Teva's and a Nike shirt the girl shamelessly slandered everything associated with the US. She turned out to be a mean drunk! It all reeked of high school politics and yet at times it became an amusing way of coping with the stress of such rugged travel.

Aside from the zoo inside the truck, we were speeding along the well maintained Namibian highways under spectacular African thunder storms until we were delivered to a fortress like encampment in the middle of Etosha game park in Northern Namibia. Nearby was a floodlamp lighted waterhole where the animals would come to drink usually early in the mornings and in the early evenings. Several benches were provided to view the animals gathered at the watering hole seperated from the waterhole by a low stone wall. Again we enjoyed excruciating daytime heat but the build up of massive cummulous clouds in the afternoons dragged the mercury back down by 4:00 PM. Rhinos came to visit the watering hole but their presence went largely ignored around sunset as the sun dropped below the clouds on the horizon and the blood red sky framed silhouettes of the trees nearby with thunderstorms spewing lightning and rain in the distance. Every second would change the appearance of the sky and we snapped photos wanting to capture the raw beauty of it all but knowing that a photo would never do it justice.

We would repeat the drill of game drives in the predawn hours and again in the late afternoons. The lion population was not nearly as elusive as it had been in Kenya and we were able to get quite close to them as well as watching them mate, a ritual they repeat every fifteen minutes for three days straight without food. On Wednesday, December 4 at 7:11 AM, while on a game drive, the moon slipped into the path of the sun as it blazed down on the earth. A solar eclipse had begun and would peak with total eclipse at 8:02 AM. Unfortunately, we were several hundred kilometers south of the swath of total eclipse the sun would carve out and there was a high overcast somewhat obscuring the drama playing out in space. At the time of the eclipse we were watching a heartebeast approach a waterhole while three lions rested, unseen by the elk like animal. We glanced up at the sun through our special eclipse viewing glasses purchased in Zimbabwe and then over to the lions. Up at the sun, over to the lions, up at the sun, over to the lions. The lions were unfazed by the dimming of the light as 8:00 AM neared. The animals around the watering hole seemed to occupy their interest. In the end, the moon eclipsed nearly 90% of the sun at our latitude but it was difficult to appreciate through the overcast and with the potential for a lion feeding drama unfolding nearby. The heartebeast eventually caught wind of the lions' scent and darted off. The lions, in a spectacular show of conservation of energy, did absolutely nothing but watch. Africa is full of so many moments that could have been more dramatic but animals are unpredictable. We have a new appreciation for those national geographic specials on animals where they capture amazing action film footage. I am sure Marlin Perkins and his friends at Mutual of Omaha had many a moment of torturous boredom while waiting for animals to explode in action. Meanwhile we, the viewers, joined Jim and the film crew downstream where all the action seemed to be happening.

The next day we sped along on a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim we had to stop for the night. There she stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell......Oh wait... that was the Eagles' song in my head as we plodded along the parched desert highway in the scorching sun of the Namibian summer mid-day in our sad old overland truck with a drooping belly. I was thinking to myself this could be heaven or this could be hell.

We arrived at the Otjitotongwe Cheetah farm where we met three "domesticated" cheetahs, ran our fingers through their course fur, and listened to them pur like housecats...really big housecats. Later we piled into the back of a pickup with Mario, the cheetah farmer, and lobbed chunks of fresh donkey meat over the fence to the "wild" cheetahs on the other side. We marveled at their midair interceptions that would put an NFL defensive end to shame. Each cheetah having secured his prize ran off at high speed to find a moment of solitude to devour his meal. The cheetahs waiting for their meal stared with intent eyes and "meowed" in a deep eerie tone that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Of the estimated 7,500 cheetahs alive in the wild in the World roughly one third of those call Namibia home. Yet the government has a shoot on sight policy because of the cheetahs ability to decimate sheep and cattle herds. It is a tragic story and several "farms" have been established to provide the cheetah with a refuge from the bullets until a better solution can be found. Mario was very elusive as to exactly how many cheetah resided on his fenced-in farm. "The Namibian government allows me to have 19 cheetahs so that is how many I have", he repeated over and over like a broken record.

From the Cheetah Farm we roared down the packed gravel highway towards the coast of Namibia and a town called Swakopmund while listening to African bands masterfully cranking out old John Denver tunes reminding me of my Zamphir and his pan flute album. (You now the one, the one we all bought from late-night TV but are afraid to admit it).

Swakopmund, a beach town located on the Atlantic Coast of central Namibia whose claim to fame is the massive sand dunes and adrenaline activities like sand boarding the dunes, riding quadbikes up and down the dunes, skydiving over the dunes, and paragliding from the dunes. We chose the sandboarding and quadbiking in the interest of sticking to our budget. Read More about Swakopmund...