Family Time

16/05/2013

It was a relief to see the familiar faces of my aunt and uncle searching for me at Cape Town bus terminal after another 20 hour bus journey. I had left Windhoek the night before after 6 days driving myself around Namibia and was looking forward to some down time catching up and cleaning up. After setting a wash on (I was so excited about having clean clothes that I unpacked my bag directly into the washing machine) and a shave (I had to go and buy a razor as neglected to bring one on my travels), my uncle and I went to pick up my sister, Kathy, who was arriving back from 6 months in New Zealand. General tiredness and jet-lag soon ate into our conversations and I sank into the comfort of a well known bed in a welcoming home.

Chapman's Peak Cycle - Image courtesy of Hayley Harpur

The relaxing lasted all of one night, Hayley, my other sister arrived the following day with plans for a short cycle. I reluctantly agreed so long as they would take it easy on me and we set off to meet a friend in Sea Point. Upon reaching Sea Point I thought it wasn't such a bad cycle and was pleased with myself for keeping pace. My face dropped and my legs turned to jelly when as told me that the cycle had not started and we were actually heading up Chapman's Peak. Over half an Argus (70km) later and I was truly broken, both physically and mentally at how fresh they all still looked, but that just made the cold beer in hand and stunning sunset even more enjoyable.

Sunset over Sea Point. 

Some point that evening amidst catching up and making new acquaintances it was agreed that we would climb Table Mountain the following day. With an early start I was grateful they did not make me cycle to the start of the trail. The route, Indian Vensters, which was chosen by Kathy would turn out to be a good challenge with plenty of scrambling but that didn't stop her pushing us to make it to the top well within the 2.5hrs suggested hike time. After lunch on the table it was more of a jog down than a Sunday afternoon stroll, with Hayley and her trail running buddies taking the lead. By the time we got to the bottom I was more than ready for sun-downers and decided to forgo the cycle back to my aunt and uncle's in favour of a lift to the waterfront followed by beers lit by the long rays of the evening sun.

Hiking Table Mountain - Image courtesy of Hayley Harpur

Sun-downers with Hayley at the V&A Waterfront

To end off an energetic weekend I spent the night at Hayley's house at the Strand, the whole time thinking to myself, "This is like those places we always used to see at the beach as kids and wonder what type of people lived in them." The morning greeted us with a misty ocean which demanded wetsuits for the morning SUP session we had planned. It was fantastic to get out on the water even if it wasn't on a windsurfer, it brought back the enjoyment and enhanced the excitement of the Greece trip to come. The session ended with me making a 500m swim back to the shore after loosing my paddle and board when under estimating the size of a wave and catching it side on. Both washed up, saving me the embarrassment of appearing through the mist empty handed. As it was Hayley managed to grab this rather moody shot as I wandered up the beach to find her and the instructor searching for me.


The rest of the South Africa stay, aside for a trip up the west coast, followed a similar pattern and included regular tennis at Pinelands Club and one very early morning bike ride followed by coffee at a quirky coffee shop hidden down an alley only known to the local cycling crew. Speaking of quirky coffee shops, it seems to me that this is a side of Cape Town I never fully appreciated or maybe it is a side that I have only just begin to experience in earnest. Either way there was something different about this trip back to SA, it was the first time that I found myself thinking, "Something has changed, this is actually and amazing place, maybe one day I can see myself back here on a more permanent basis."

Early morning cycle with Kathy

Well deserved hub cap breakfast at the cycle cafe. 

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West Coast Scenic

23/05/2013

Having lived in South Africa for 20 odd years and during subsequent trips back I have covered a fair amount of the beautiful country, from Sodwana Bay on the north east coast to Graaf Reinet in the interior, though I had never been further up the west coast than Cape Town. So when my mom asked what I wanted to do when I visited this time I jumped at the opportunity to let her organise a road trip up this spectacular piece of the country.

One of the many passes through the Cederberg.

It being May there would be no real chance of windsurfing and thus I am yet to surf any of the spots around the cape, so we started the trip by heading slightly inland, to the Cederberg and Citrusdal. We meet up with family at the Baths which are natural hotsprings once used by bushmen to aid healing and spirituality. After a few days of rejuvenating in the warm waters it was time to bid farewell to some family members and head to the coast with my parents and my sister.

Old colonial building at the Baths

Sister enjoying the view from one of the many hikes.

Moonrise over the Cederberg

Relaxing in one of the smaller baths.

From Citrusdal we spent our first night in the little port of Lamberts Bay. The weather was cold and moody, which for the rest of the family brought comments of, "I don't see the attraction of this place." For me as, I strolled along the shoreline in the heavy evening air, I saw the attraction, the wild, ruggedness of this coastline with sunsets over the ocean makes it a photographer's dream.

An overcast sunset at Lamberts Bay

Lamberts Bay

Someday we'll all go back to the oceans.

We took the coastal road from Lamberts Bay to a little settlement called Paternoster which is well know for its lobster and white fishing houses. Despite the cold weather, this time everyone was in agreement that they could see why this is often claimed to be one of the most beautiful places on the west coast.

White houses at Paternoster

An evening fish. 

Purple haze. 

Some things are made to share.

The route back to Cape Town took us via Langebaan, a well known windsurfing spot and often used testing ground for some of the industry manufacturers. We stopped there for lunch and although there wasn't a windsurfer in sight I caught myself adding a point to my bucket list: road trip Southern Africa with windsurfers on the roof of a camper-van.

Langebaan Lagoon

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Nomadic in Namibia - Lüderitz

14/05/2013

Sometimes one gets lucky with photography. As I wounds through the pass to the coast, I knew that it was one of those times, the ghostly shells of the Kolmanskop houses stood like guardians scanning the horizon, behind them a sky burnt of oranges and pinks as wispy flames of cloud licked the tops of the dunes. I only had the chance for a couple of shots before the fog rolled in and I descended the pass into the now eerie town of Lüderitz.

The Kolmanskop guardians

Road down to Lüderitz

A foggy night.

By the time I found a place to spend the night, the little camp-site on shark island, the sea fog had all but engulfed the town as if to compliment the ghost town I had just passed by. I don't see myself as a superstitious or even spiritual person, but there was something haunting about the place which conjured up thoughts of the countless souls lost at sea. Maybe it was one of those souls that begged me to stay, maybe it was that I had travelled 3000km in 6 days mostly on dust roads either way I made the decision to spend a couple of nights there and take it easy the following day.

The morning greeted me with an even thicker fog which weighed heavy in the air as I clambered over the rocks seeking a good angle to capture the mood. Finally the oyster catchers started about their daily routine which prompted me to a brief workout come yoga session on the rocks. The landscape started to reveal itself in time for breakfast and by the time I had washed up the sun was out and inviting me to explore the town.

A ghostly awakening.

Yoga rocks.

Oyster catchers up for breakfast

It should be noted that Lüderitz is not a big town so by midday I had explored the corners and cracks which left me wanting. I had seen a picture of a shipwreck in the information center and decided it would make a good photo so I set off in search of it, taking my home down roads which were obviously meant for vehicles of a more sturdy nature. Finally I came across a shipwreck, not the one I had seen in the brochure, rather what seemed like a small fishing boat on a deserted beach. From there the afternoon took me down ever more unsuitable roads. After visiting a fjord, a lighthouse and experiencing a cold swim in the Atlantic I landed up at a little camp-site called Dias Point. It is an enchanting place run by an old lady and her daughter in-law who happened to be a budding photographer and I spent a few sun downers advising her on lenses. Her excitement at being able to try my 10-20mm made the experience ever more worth it. 

The colourful town of Lüderitz

My shipwreck

Namibia's fjord

A dip in the Atlantic

Sun-downers at Diaz Point

I left Lüderitz the following morning after sharing breakfast with one of the Shark Island wardens while he convinced me of the merits of him getting his lorry licence. After a couple of hours photography stop in Kolmanskop I moved on to Mariental.

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Nomadic in Namibia - Kolmanskop

15/05/2013

Kolmanskop was once a thriving mining town a short way from Lüderitz now abandoned to the ravishes of wind and sand, it was one of the main reasons I wanted to travel to Namibia. I had seen it in plenty a picture and even in one of Brian Cox's wonders of the universe and I was itching to see if I could replicate the pictures I had seen. Here are a few of my attempts.

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Nomadic in Namibia - Sossusvlei

12/05/2013
I made it to Sossusvlei in time for sunset and gave in to an early night in order to be up at 5am for sunrise photography of the dead vlei. I only spent a day there before continuing on to Ludritz though looking at the pictures I got I now realise it deserved more time.  So much about great photography is light, dictated by being in the right place at the right time, sometimes this just happens but more often than not it requires planning and patience.  The photographers who spend a week there, getting up before the sun every morning, just to learn how the shadows are cast by a particular tree and to plan the shot for the same time the next day are the ones that will win the ultimate prize and produce the works we see in magazines and exhibits.

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Nomadic in Namibia - Bumpy Roads

Hello from Walvis Bay quay

10/05/2013

Leaving CJ and the flamingos behind I took the coastal road down to Walvis Bay where I spent the morning wandering around the quay, chatting to quizzical pelicans before their limited vocabulary turned me away in search of the route to Sossusvlei. A wrong turn here and a photograph there meant that by lunchtime I was yet to make it out of Walvis so I took a break and joined the flamingos for another car park lunch. By 2pm a feisty breeze had picked up and I felt a familiar itch set in. Knowing that it was a prime windsurfing spot, with speed week held every year, I went in search of board rental, figuring I would spend the afternoon on the water and take CJ up on his offer of another night in the campsite at Swakopmund. It was not to be as the lady at tourist information assured me that there was no place to hire equipment in town.

Dejected though staving off the feelings of annoyance by convincing myself that I had no commitments and it really didn't matter what time I got to Sossusvlei, I turned inland onto the C17 and into the desert. Besides it was only 300km to go and sunset would be at 6pm, I'd easy make it before dark.

Flamingos at Walvis Bay

Heading into the desert. 

Sunset came as I drove through a mountain pass, still 200km from Sossusvlei. The road had been so atrocious, cut up by countless heavy vehicles carting salt to Windhoek and Keetmanshoep, that my average speed could not have been more than 50km/h. The slow pace did afford me the opportunity to take in the dry landscape, dotted by skittish Oryx and the occasional Spring buck, but now the sun was gone and my speed dropped to a crawl, still 80km from the nearest town. By 7:30pm I could not take the chattering of my teeth any more and blisters had started to form on my hands from the vibrations in the steering wheel, I turned off at a sign Oase 107, thinking I'd just park up on the side of the road and continue at dawn. It is a strange thing, driving at night through and empty landscape on dirt roads at night, maybe it was my inherent fear of the "dangers" of Africa, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. Finally I came upon what looked like an empty house, with the sign Oase 107 painted on the gate. Just as I had resigned to the fact that I'd be spending the night just outside the gate, a torch shone in my direction.

A safe place for the night.

Stephen and his family (Suzan his wife, Sean and Yoalandi his children) were spending the weekend on his uncle's farm, Oase 107 and invited me to park up and come in for dinner. I found a cold beer in my hand, the promise I'd made to myself not to drink till reaching South Africa giving in to the appreciation of hospitality, and relaxed in the company of my hosts and the comfort in knowing I had a safe place to spend the night.

In the morning Stephen took me on a game drive, the farm's purpose nothing more than enjoyment and its bordering on fenceless nature reserve providing a superb environment to experience the Namibian wilds. To top it off they saw me off with a caffeine kick and directions to the next town via the farm roads to avoid the horrendous corrugated roads of the night before.

A short while later I was sitting in Solitaire enjoy the famous apple pie as enjoyed by the likes of Angelina and Brad, when I heard a grating sound and felt a sharp pain, like biting on a stone. I fished around and spat out an old metal filling, the vibrations from the journey had obviously caused more damage to me than my vehicle.

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Nomadic in Namibia - Arrival

09/05/2013

Waking bleary eyed to a sky painted in blues, purples and pinks was a delight after the 21 hour bus journey from Livingstone. As we travelled the last hour into Windhoek I watched the purples and pinks fade away to leave a blue sky staring down on a barren, wild landscape. A grin settled on my face along with the thought of photographic opportunities.

Once again I was taught the African lesson that technology is not reliable. I was to phone the car hire I had booked when I got in to Windhoek so that they could pick me up, though my Zimbabwean SIM did not work and it was a public holiday which meant 2hrs of hanging around before shops opened and I could pick up a Namibian SIM. After lugging my bags around long enough to earn myself some back ache I settled for a spot in the sun on a street corner.

James, Child no. 183.

I hadn't completed a page of my book when James sat down next to me. His well spoken manner and clear accent surprised me as did his story. He was one of the Ex GDR Children, child number 183, and told me tails of his life in Germany and repatriation to Namibia where he struggled for identity and subsequently found himself in Sheffield, UK before returning to Namibia to work in tourism. He was delighted to have someone who had been to Sheffield to talk to, I felt naive for not knowing anything about the EX GDR children.

My conversation with James ended as Norbert from Pegasus car hire arrived to pick me up. On the short ride to the office we discussed life in Namibia and compared it to South Africa, a comparison I would soon be witnessing first hand as I travelled the roads in search of scenery. What struck me in our conversation was the contrast between this born and bred, German Namibian and James. For him there was a strong sense of identity, there was no denying he was Namibian and not German despite his heritage. While I enjoyed the conversation, I censored my ideas on peoples' places in this world and inter-racial relations. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last time I would censor my views.

A brief stop to pick up provisions for my trip and a car park lunch later I was on the road heading north on the B1. After five hours and two Redbulls I pulled into Tiger Reef campsite where I relished the opportunity to sit outside in the cool sea breeze and enjoy a dinner of Frys veggie burgers before turning in for the night.

Cooking up a storm

Searching for something?

Woken up at sunrise to the sound of crashing waves and seagulls squawking, it only took a few minutes to get the coffee on and enjoy a chat with CJ over breakfast. He had grown up on the Namibian/Botswana border before moving to South Africa where he found himself caught up in the city life working as an IT consultant. After 13 years of hustle and bustle he decided enough was enough and moved back to Namibia. He now lives a far more relaxed existence as a campsite manager in Swakopmund where he says he is far happier and can't imagine leaving. I could see why, with flamingos on his doorstep, conversations with worldly travellers and one of the world's premier speed sailing spots a 45min drive away, it had me thinking whether I would want to return to the corporate world after this little adventure?

Car park lunch

Northbound on the B1

Sunset on the way to Swakopmund

Flamingo lagoon

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