Change In Plans

Greetings from Swakopmund, Namibia’s favorite Atlantic beach-resort town. Everyone in the family is asleep, after a very long day. Photos and a map are forthcoming, I promise.

Last night we stayed at a hyper-chic desert lodge called Little Kulala. It is only 70 kilometers north of Wolwedans, but it feels like it is on a different planet.

Little Kulala was featured on the cover of Elle Decor magazine. Everything is finished in gray stone, natural cement, or oyster-colored paint. It has a Rasilia commercial espresso machine in the main hall for guest use. The sofas are oversized, and covered in off-white cotton. Every wall that faces toward the huge sand dunes is made completely of glass. Wolwedans is classic, but Little Kulala is self-consciously au courant.

Little Kulala is also positioned hard by Namibia’s famous red sand dunes. It feels very much like being in the desert, particularly as the hot afternoon wind creates a sand storm that briefly blocks the view of the sky. The rock-lined path to Little Kulala’s designer chalets is nearly obliterated by drifting sand.

This morning we were roused from hyper-chic slumber at 5 o’clock. Little Kulala’s primary guest activity is a sunrise tour and walk through the sand dunes of Sossusvlei.

We rode in the dark in a closed Land Rover for about 45 minutes. We entered the huge Namib-Naukluft Park (fourth largest in the world) through a private gate about 20 km south of the main gate. Zola and India, being competitive, were thrilled that we had gotten a dune-viewing advantage over the crowds at the public-gate.

The highlight of the excursion was a long hike up a sand dune called ‘Big Daddy,’ which gave us access to a dried lake bed called ‘Dead Vlei.’. As the sun rose, we quickly climbed about 250 meters above the desert floor. From the ridge near the peak of the dune, Zola and Tallulah pitched themselves over the edge, jumping, tumbling, and sliding down in the soft desert sand.

One of my abiding memories of Zola will be him laughing away at the bottom of this giant dune, his face coated with the cinnamon-sugar colored sand. At that moment, he was as happy as a nine-year old can possibly be.

After an elegant picnic breakfast, in the rising heat of the dry Sossusvlei lake bed, we started driving back to Little Kulala. Our guide, Moses, almost immediately got the Land Rover stuck in the hot, loose sand. The Old Testament references flew as we dug and pushed and (critically) deflated tires to liberate ourselves.

We arrived back at the lodge at 12:30, having been out in the desert for nearly seven hours.

Little Kulala’s water system had broken during the night, so there were no showers for the returning desert sojourners. Instead, we all jumped in the small pool, and drank fruit juice on the sand-blown deck.

Despite our intention to leave at 1 pm, 3 o’clock found us still talking to other guests, saying goodbye to the staff, and checking out. Finally, at 3:30, we got on the road for the long drive to Swakopmund.

The estimates we had been given for driving the 360 dirt-road kilometers to Swakopmund ranged from two and a half hours (impossibly fast) to six hours (ridiculously slow). In the end, it took us just under four and a half hours, including two stops to buy diesel (one successful, one not for confusing reasons), two roadside bathroom breaks, and a family photo beneath the sign that indicated we were crossing the Tropic of Capricorn.

Neither kid slept in the car, but they were both remarkably well behaved. Aside from one “Stop copying me!” blowup, the drive passed without significant drama inside the vehicle.

Outside, however, the landscape was morphing dramatically every 30-40 kilometers: flat and completely barren plains, brutally rugged looking low mountains, expansive yellow grassland, a crazy quilt of steep hillocks and valleys. Namibia is wildly beautiful.

Several years ago, India and I came upon a fatal car accident on the road to Swakopmund. The memory of that Volkswagen Golf on its roof occupied our minds as we drove, and prompted India to say “Slow down!” every 90 seconds or so throughout the drive. It would probably have been fine to reduce the speed, and to have made the trip in five hours instead of four and a half.

After seeing the ocean and turning north at Walvis Bay, we arrived in Swakopmund just after sunset. We are staying in a beach house, on stilts over the sand, with the roar of Atlantic waves breaking nearby.

Having been in the desert for nearly two weeks, the cool, moist air of the coast feels wonderful. Swakopmund is a century old, heavily German, classic beach town. Except for a few who venture all the way to Cape Town, all of Namibia’s upper-middle-class holidaymakers converge on Swakop in the summer. It is great to be back here after so many years.

For dinner, Zola picked us a great restaurant on the water, which happened to be housed in a decommissioned tug boat. Both kids were asleep at the table before dessert arrived.

Another long, fun day in amazing Namibia.