Missing the Drop

We got the 20 hour bus to Windhoek - I was so looking forward to it I can tell you... We finally got going when the bags were on ( me: Will, are our bags still on? Will: yes. Me: are you sure you didn't you see someone taking them off again? Will: yes. Me: can you check? etc etc...), the smokers had had their last inhalation and the craft shopping bargains had been purchased - and that was just the bus crew (who incidently couldn't made a decent cup of tea).

After the border, everyone took the opportunity to go on a quick shopping spree, while the bus driver/conductor et al drove off (turfing Will off in the process) to "get the bus fixed". We took this to mean: top up their nicotine levels, sell all their Zambian wares to the Namibians and have a decent cup of tea - which they didn't have to make.

Eventually we arrived at 6 a.m. and got a courtesy bus to a backpacker hostel. Not that we had any intention of staying there particularly, but it saved us a walk uphill. Such a shame there was no room (the giggling multi-plaited hair girls and the cool crowd had beaten us to it, so we had to find a very nice guesthouse nearby (with pool and ensuite bathroom) instead. It took a while to get used to crisp clean sheets, not checking for frogs under the loo seat and having space to tip out the whole contents of our rucksacks (which went directly into the washing machine). Will discovered hot water, a basin and a mirror all occuring at the same time, so the beard finally came off. His mother would approve.

We checked out some rather limited packages for excursions to the coast (sand dunes and shipwrecks) before deciding that going independently would be easier, i.e. a) cheaper and b) not sharing the bus with a load of losers (Will's comment). However that would mean camping. Yes, William Etchell, camping. So, we hired a big car with a mattress in the back (or according to Will: 'a heap of junk' with 'the handling of a blancmange'), therefore no tent malarky involved. (Well, could you see Will being bothered to put a tent up every night?)

Will's 'enthusiasm' for seeing an abundance of sand dunes was substantially heightened after reading about some famous apfelstudel - made in a one-horse town we would be passing through. This turned out to be a house or two at the side of the road, but the strudel was good. We arrived at the campsite at sunset, then suddenly it was too dark to play backgammon, so after a jam sandwich it was bedtime at 8p.m.

We got up at 05.15 to see the sun rise over the dunes. The drive in was so bad we missed sunrise, but not the potholes. That was fun... After clambering up a couple of the dunes and probably taking far too many pictures ('do you really need to take another picture Luce? They all look the same') we decided it was high time for some more apple strudel before we set off up the coast.

We arrived in Swakopmund - a seaside town where Will had his hair cut. We camped again, progressing from the previous night's sandwich to a 'pasta a la Will special' (and yes Keith, even without the aid of a jar of Ragu to hand) of tuna, tomatoes and cream. The next evening, as Will had exhausted the menu options (we only had baked beans left) we dined out at The Tug. This was an old boat converted into a restaurant - a novelty to me and bobbins to Will. We had our first decent balanced meal since I can remember and Will had a 'knockout' steak for about 4 quid. So he was as happy as a sand boy!

We attempted to go looking for shipwrecks, our options being limited to an expensive flight over the last two remaining wrecks, or not at all. Not to be put off by the information lady (what does she know anyway?!) we satisfied ourselves by spotting a lump of twisted metal off the coast which seemed to match up with where one ought or used to be... Then we (Will) promptly got the car stuck in some sand as we went to turn round (we should have b left it there too). Luckily a man with sausagy fingers and large, hairy bare feet helped to dig us out. We made it back to Windhoek without incurring any more problems (well, apart from half the fuses blowing when trying to operate more than one electrical item at a time) and then waited for the bus which would take us to Cape Town. Oh yes, another 20 hours or so on a bus. Can't wait.