Part I: On safari in Namibia, Africa...

We just spent three great days in Etosha National Park in Namibia viewing some impressive wild game. Where's Namibia you ask? It lies just north of South Africa along the western coast of Africa. Upon arrival, we discovered that this is not the ideal time to view the animals in Etosha, as the frequent rains result in two things: (i) the trees and plants are lush, and therefore provide cover for the animals (a good thing for them, and bad thing for us), and (ii) the animals no longer need to find their way to the conveniently located watering holes created by humans, as there is water all over the park for them to enjoy (outside of our prying eyes). No matter, during our first day in the park we were still able to spend hours marveling at giraffes, zebras, Orix, Wildebeests, Spring Bucks, Ostriches and sundry other smaller creatures doing their thing.

Our second day in the park was so devoid of game viewing opportunities that our group actually upset another safari group by accidentally scaring away some Guinee Fowl they were trying to photograph (the equivalent of trying to take a picture of a Pigeon in a city park). Although I have no evidence to support this, I would suspect this is the first time anybody has ever tried to photograph Guinee Fowl anywhere in the world.

But as is often the case in the national parks in Africa, patience is paramount and our luck turned during our third night, as we saw two huge Rhinos drinking from a watering hole at twilight and six female lions from close range the next morning (both fairly rare sightings for this time of year). The lions made our week, although we were selfishly hoping that the poor Wildebeest we could barely see off in the distance would wander into the "lions den".

During our stay in the park, we camped in basic safari tents. While it was very different than our luxurious accommodations in Madrid, camping under the stars each night was truly an incredible experience. From the mountains at Brandenburg where we camped during one of the last nights of the safari (over 50 kilometers from the nearest civilization, which consisted of a smattering of desert houses and one desert pub) to the strange-looking Waterburg Plateau (where we camped the first night), we were treated to incredible sights each and every day. At one point, we spent an hour hiking among 6,000-year-old rock engravings created by nomads. We learned that they were produced to help other nomad groups find watering holes and animals (at that time it was for food, not game viewing).

Part II: Playing in the sand...

During the past 24 hours, Tiffany and I have done virtually everything one can do on big piles of sand. We have been playing in and among the sand dunes of the oldest desert in the world -- the Namib Desert on the west coast of Namibia. This place is wild... really wild. Not just a little out of the ordinary or something you don't see everyday, but rather closer to what we would imagine the surface of Mars to look like.

It all began yesterday morning when we hopped on what are commonly referred to in the Namibian Desert as "Quadbikes." These innocent sounding vehicles are designed to reach speeds of over 70 kilometers per hour (we have now adopted the metric system) at impossible angles. We spent the better part of two hours wending our way up, down and through the steep dunes, all the while trying to maintain balance on a surface which almost seems designed to throw you into one of the myriad of "dips" which occur so frequently between the massive dunes. The only sensation I have ever experienced even close to this was snowmobiling through the Grand Tetons in Wyoming, but in reality, this was something far more bizarre. Of the 11 people riding bikes on this particular day, only two got so stuck in the sand that special assistance was required from our unfortunate guide -- no need to mention names, but let's just say that at one point during the day Tiffany could be heard bellowing out for help as she was nearly left half buried in shifting sands (no need to mention the name of the other grounded biker, although Tiffany might disagree).

We decided the next morning that we craved an even closer relationship with the sand, so we signed on to try our hand at "sandboarding". Here, the participant takes a thin piece of what appears to be hardened leather (certainly falls far short of a typical snow sled), lays face down on the thing, lifts the front end and then lets it rip straight down the dune. The 80 km/hour reached on the boards made the 70 km/hour reached on the quadbikes seem like kids play. This is all about sand... sand in the face, sand down the shirt, sand in the underwear, etc. There is no controlling a streaking sandboard, as it ebbs and flows with the gradations of the dunes, most of which are not visible to the naked eye until one has sped over a bump or crevice (often leading to significant air time). When we returned back to Swakopmund, the quaint town we were based in during this portion of our safari, I made the unfortunate mistake of taking my shirt off indoors... I literally created a sand dune right there in front of our bed.

Our 24 hours of fun in the sand was topped off with a flying safari over the desert (now we wanted some distance to give us some perspective). We boarded a little 5-seater and spent two glorious hours gliding over the massive dunes of the desert, various shipwrecks (some of which are no longer on the shifting coast line, and therefore appear to have been dropped into the arid desert from above), seal colonies and old diamond mining camps. A camera simply cannot do justice to this impossible landscape, although Tiffany certainly gave it a good run (I think she snapped no less than 40 shots of the sand dunes alone).

It is hard to compare the dunes to anything else, as neither Tiffany or I have ever seen anything quite like them. These winding hills extend for thousands of kilometers along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. The actual coast, which butts up against the desert, is commonly referred to as the Skeleton Coast due to all of the shipwrecks which have washed ashore over the centuries. We kept expecting to see Clark W. Griswald (from the movie Vacation) hiking through the desert to find his family, but instead found only large beetles called Fog Baskers and the tracks of desert snakes called sidewinders. We were told they were highly poisonous, but not deadly. That provided little comfort.

Namibia is simply like no other place. It is the size of the Western U.S. yet has a population less than that of our native Chicago. Himba tribes survive in desert conditions which seem as unforgiving as any in the world. It's just a strange and exciting place, and one we hope to get back to at some point in our lives. Perhaps our experience here can best be summed up with the odd question we were repeatedly asked by local street vendors. Here's how our chat would go:

"Are you German?"
"No, we're from the United States"
"Oh, I am a soccer player"
"I see"
"Do you want to buy this necklace?"

Seeing as this is the last desert we will visit during our time in Southern Africa, I think it is safe to say we have seen the last of the Fog Basker beetle. More honeymoon adventures to come soon…

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