Epupa and Beyond

My trip really didn’t end once I reached Epupa – only the walking.  I spent a couple days at Epupa exploring further downstream and hanging out in the village.  Then, I had to try to get myself out of there which isn’t a straightforward task since it is kind of out in the middle of nowhere. 

Since you are probably tired of reading this blog and I am tired of typing it (certainly not tired of reliving it though), I am going to keep this one short.  Here are some photos from the few days following the walk down the river.

 

Sunrise over the Kunene and Epupa Village

The calm Kunene before it slides into the abyss resulting in watery chaos

Misty view from below the falls

Downstream of Epupa the lush vegetation along the banks disappears as the river cuts through desert landscapes of barren mountains, rock, and sand

 

Inside a simple Himba shelter I assume is used by herders when they bring the cows and goats to the river

That’s a Himba hut, not a boulder

Soccer is Africa’s pastime.  It doesn’t matter how remote the village – game on!

I find the games much less amusing than the crowd coming to watch the game

 

The children of Africa are something special

 

From Epupa, I hitchhiked in the back of a camper truck rented by a delightful German/Hungarian couple, Rainer and Aniko.  We made a stop for lunch in the middle of nowhere – well, apparently not the middle of nowhere to the Himba.  These ladies came out of the bushes, sat down and enjoyed our picnic with us.  They were thoroughly delighted to see themselves on the small screen of Rainer’s camera.

Solace Down the Kunene

December 28 - Day 9, Epupa Falls

Now comes the most difficult part of any great adventure – acceptance; acceptance that it has come to an end and all the extraordinary experiences become nothing but memories.  I faced difficulties throughout the entire walk – holes in my feet, blackened toenails, searching for the perfect campsite, and even mustering up the courage to throw on the pack and venture alone into the unknown.  I overcame all of these difficulties with little heartache, but accepting that it is all over is not so simple to overcome.  Unfortunately it tends to put me in a morose mood.  Regrets start to work into my mind – maybe I should have hiked fewer kilometers each day and spent more nights out?  Maybe I should have sat longer with those Himba women and shared more food with them? …

I thoroughly dislike the end of an adventure.  I have had my share of adventures but there are only a handful that have left me feeling like this, and this one might take the cake.  With that said, this is exactly how I want a trip to end.  It tells me that is has been profound and has impacted me.  Is that not what we hope to gain from adventure?  That’s all I really hope for.

I am now sitting at Epupa Falls after a relatively unremarkable day of walking.  The landscape is much more arid here, in fact I am told that the rains are still to come, if at all.  The Kunene broadens and plunges into the canyon below but not as a single waterfall, but instead as hundreds of breathtaking cascades.  If there is such a place as Shangri-La, it must certainly have some of the characteristics of this place.  It is a remote village but is a popular stop on the typical tourist circuit.  I find myself crammed in the corner of a campground surrounded by 4x4s, generators, and travel trailers.  In other words, worlds away from where I was just 6 hours ago.  My heart is screaming at my feet telling them to get out of here and keep walking down this amazing river.  The river continues for 100’s of kilometers through true desert wilderness until if finally dumps into the Atlantic at the infamous Skeleton Coast.  What’s holding me back?  Lots of things.  It’s never too early to start planning the next adventure though.  I don’t want to leave these extraordinary landscapes, the solace that the river brings, or especially its breathtaking people who call it home.  The Himba have moved me in a way I wouldn’t have imagined.  Having the opportunity to be in their presence in such a way has been very special.  They will always have a place in my heart. 

Although better in some places than in others, it comforts me to know that the rising sun is a daily occurrence

Palm forests – good; Cactus forests – not good

Soaking it in as much as possible

The final stretch – Epupa lies just beyond the pass through the mountains

Nature never ceases to amaze me – I hope it always does

So, to summarize…

Walking the Kunene:  walk 150km in extreme heat, do a lot of walking in Namibia while doing a lot of looking in Angola, drink 6 liters of warm brown water a day, sleep under the stars, greet every Himba with a big smile and a “wa penduka”, spook crocodiles, poop in the sand, snuggle your machete at night, be spooked by crocodiles, share peanuts and raisins with Himba, and embrace the adventure and be moved by the sheer beauty of the place.

(one more post to follow tomorrow)

Solace Down the Kunene

December 27 - Day 8

I have been craving milk all afternoon ever since I opened my pack to slather on some sunscreen.  I opened the container and found that the lotion had turned to the consistency of milk – that’s how hot it was today.  I am now camped at what I believe to be the northern most point in Namibia.  Although I am only about 15km from Epupa, this is the most remote I have felt.  I arrived here via a little Himba trail that winds its way far from the road.  My tent is pitched on a small patch of earth sandwiched between the river and a small mountain.  From my front door a sliver of rock juts out into the river creating a tranquil set of rapids.  Monster thunderheads are billowing over Angola and I can hear the distant rumble of thunder.  And not 50 yards from camp I spooked a 6 foot croc.  A proper last night after a long walk.

Tonight I am not entirely alone though.  Across the river, somewhere hidden behind the bushes is a Himba homestead.  I watched the boys play along the banks of the river, yelling and running.  I watched, as who I presume to be the father, bring the goats down to the river for a drink.  The Himba in Angola lead the same primitive lifestyle as their cousins here in Namibia.  However, I can imagine that their exposure to foreigners is not near that to the Namibian Himba.  I wonder what they are thinking of me camped across from them?  I watched as a woman emerged from the bushes carrying a container for hauling water.  Upon seeing me she stopped and gave me a long, intent watch as I went about my business, as if assessing the situation.  She eventually made her way down to the water directly across from the rocky protrusion at my camp.  She watched me as I watched her.  I went out to the river to fill up my water containers as she was doing the same thing.  I decided to splash some water on myself as a quick bathe.  When she finished collecting her water she does the same thing.*  Here I was sharing the same river, taking care of the same tasks with a woman whose culture is worlds away from my own – in fact, a culture that I envy in many respects.  It was a surreal experience.  The magic of this place is like nothing I have ever experienced before.

*I have since learned that Himba women do not bathe so maybe she was just merely cooling down. 

Another Himba homestead – unfortunately I don’t know what purpose each structure serves

The progressive aridity of the land was apparent as I continued west

Looking north across the Kunene and into Angola

After trekking in the Himalaya I thought I was ruined – would I ever be able to find places as beautiful?  The Kunene proved that I am not ruined – even though there are no big snowy mountains, the Kunene is a stunningly beautiful place in its own unique ways.

Yet another stunning sunset – Africa is good for those

Solace Down the Kunene

December 26 - Day 7

Hot.  There is no better way to describe the day.  Today I walked through temperatures that I was expecting to experience.  I wish I had a thermometer to measure just how hot it was.  I would estimate it above 100°F and maybe more with the sun reflecting off the ground.  Even the Himba found it to be too hot for their taste, pointing to the sky and saying “omutenya!” as I passed.  Besides that, the day was pretty uneventful.  I was off the track for most of the day following the river through palm forests and up and over gorges that turned the otherwise calm Kunene into a raging torrent.  I saw few people today.  For the most part my only company was the vervet monkeys swinging in the branches overhead. 

This evening I faced what is turning out to be the most stressful part of my days – finding a place to pitch the tent.  Never before have I had to consider so many factors – crocodiles, snakes, people, safe access to water, etc.  It has become the least enjoyable part of my days.  I don’t want to intrude on Himba homesteads so finding a site that is a decent distance from homes is challenging.  It is by no means densely populated in here but ensuring that there is adequate separation behind and in front of me is tedious.

Today I found a nice beach on the river with a spot to pitch the tent away from the water and rapids from which I could safely get water (I was informed that crocs prefer to not hang out in rapidly moving water).  There was a Himba kraal (corral) adjacent to the beach so I walked down the river to ensure that there wasn’t a homestead too near.  Upon returning to the site I met a Himba man who also decided to stop on the beach.  He was less personable than the other Himbas I had encountered which made me a bit uneasy.  I asked where he was going and he points to where he is standing.  He makes himself comfortable in the sand and falls asleep.  I am reluctant to unload all my gear because I am alone and I do not want him eyeing all my valuables.  I decide to move on and wait it out and see if he continues on.  After an hour I slowly creep back in there and see him still lazing around.  I sneak back out and begin looking for a new site.  I get myself into the large kraal and find another nice sandy spot.  However, I am in a kraal.  No cows at the moment, but I would hate for them to bring the cows home and find a white guy hanging out in their kraal.  While I am awkwardly standing there playing through my options, the Himba man strolls right on by me.  By now, I assume he is as weirded out about me as I am of him.  But, my original beach is now free so I hustle over there to set up camp.  The man returns and awkwardly watches me do my thing.  I chat with him as much as I can (him little English, me little Himba) and finally gather after some drawing in the sand and some animal noises that he is waiting for his goats.  This must be the beach where he meets his goats every day.  I also gather that they happen to be missing today.  Just great! The one day his goats go missing is the day there is an unusual white guy on the beach!  What an ordeal…

Taking all measures to keep the menacing sun off my skin

It was an all new experience for me to be wandering through palm forests

Vervet monkeys provided me with plenty of entertainment

Also providers of entertainment

Rewarding views for my patience in snagging the beach campsite

Solace Down the Kunene

December 25 - Day 6

I woke this morning to crystal clear skies and an eagerness to see what was in store for the day.  These final four days should be the best as the road begins to deteriorate and I push deeper into Himba country.  Indeed, the day turned out to be incredible.  The only people I encountered were Himba – no 4x4 South Africans, no lodges, and no villages with assorted Namibians.  Every time I see a Himba I am fascinated, taken aback, and curious about them and their way of life.

As the day progressed my pack got lighter.  The first Himba I met today was a young woman. She was tending the cattle and upon seeing me she left her shade under the tree and swiftly made her way towards me.  She had her hand out in greeting before she even reached me.  We shook hands and exchanged greetings in broken English and broken Himba.  After a brief moment of trying to genuinely chat I couldn’t resist asking her for a photo.  She obliged.  I had to return the favor so I gave her an apple, a pen, and some loose change in my pack that was needlessly weighing me down – a fair exchange.

The rest of my encounters happened pretty much the same way.  An encounter was always a good excuse to stop, take a break, and share my goodies with them.  I can’t be certain, but I think many of them had their first experience with peanuts and raisins.  They seemed thoroughly delighted.  The warmth that they showed towards me was overwhelming (before they knew I had anything to offer, I might add).  Not once did I feel like I was intruding or was not welcomed – something that goes a long ways when you are alone in unfamiliar territory.  I also astonished myself at the level at which I could communicate with them.  I often got the gist of what they were saying to me and could offer a reply either in English or Himba.  There is apparently enough overlap between Oshiwambo and Himba that allows me to somewhat effectively communicate with them; a thrilling discovery that has of course enriched the experience. 

Tomorrow I am hoping for more of the same. I may have to start rationing my food…

One of the numerous homesteads the route took me past

It doesn’t matter how many Himba I see in a day – always breathtaking

 Curious, yet shy Himba boys who graciously accepted a snack of peanuts and raisins

This woman was doing the hair of the other – at this stage she was plastering it with what appeared to be white mud

The tranquility that a river provides is unmatched – whenever I had to navigate away from the river I would become uneasy

Solace Down the Kunene

December 24 - Day 5

Christmas Eve.  I am sitting in the sand on the banks of the Kunene with my two closest friends at the moment – my small mopane campfire and my machete.  Certainly doesn’t feel like Christmas.  In fact, I would have forgotten if it weren’t for the young lad I shared the trail with for a few kilometers this afternoon.  He had walked to the nearest neighbors (2-3 kilometers away) to pick up a chunk of pork that his family was going to feast on for the occasion.

The sun has set and as I write this I know that my family is putting the final touches on their own Christmas dinner.  I am quite used to being away from home for the holidays, but I do miss it dearly.  However, times like these are special and there is not much that I would trade it for.

I would consider today typical – knocked off 20k, greeted some Himba, ate fresh bananas and mangoes, and continued to be paranoid about crocs, snakes, scorpions, and overly curious villagers stumbling into camp.  It was confirmed today that I freak the Himba out, at least the younger ones.  I was taking a rest at the delta of a dry riverbed when I spotted a young Himba boy wandering around further up the sandy riverbed.  I was certain that he had to have seen me as I was out in plain view.  However, after about 30 minutes he had made his way near me behind some bushes.  I saw him coming at me and assumed he was coming to chat.  Not the case though.  As he rounded a tree and I came into view he jumped back and gave one heck of a yell.  I only sat there and laughed.  We ended up chatting for awhile and our conversation ended with him wanting my shirt and me refusing to give it to him.

It was a good day.  I don’t think I will be leaving out any milk and cookies though; I ate all my cookies and I don’t feel like finding a goat to milk at this hour.  Besides, I ain’t so sure the Kunene River is on Santa’s circuit.

Himba homestead with the Zebra Mountains in the background

Following a river is pretty straightforward but I always like to know where I am and where I am going…well, as much as possible with my 1979 Suidwes-Afrika map (Suidwes-Afrika is Afrikaans for Southwest Africa, from the days when Namibia wasn’t even Namibia yet)

Unidentified flower of sorts

There are not many things that are more comforting than digging your feet in the sand, sitting next to a campfire, listening to the flow of the river, and watching the sun set over the horizon

Solace Down the Kunene

December 23 - Day 4 

I am writing this a day late for reasons that will be apparent later.  I took a rest day at the Kunene River Lodge which, despite its high prices and gangs of tough truck South Africans, was an extremely relaxing place to take a pause.  I walked the 4km to the nearby village to stock up on supplies and indulge on imported Angolan biscuits (cookies).  Swiftbooisdrif felt like an outlaw town from an old western.  Everyone’s heads turned as I strolled into the bar to buy my cookies and a cold beer.  A young lad approached me and after exchanging greetings in Himba, he gave me a reassuring comment.   He looked me in the eyes and said something along the lines of, “you’ve been around awhile.”  It made me feel at home to at least give the impression that I can walk the walk and talk the talk.  It’s comforting to know that I am not like every other tourist.

After returning to camp my plans for the rest of the day were ruined.  I was treated to endless foreign hospitality for the rest of the afternoon and evening.  I still can’t figure out if people felt pity, admiration, or just plain bewilderment towards me.  I was the only one in camp without a truck and we were all coming from or going to the same place.  People would walk by my tent and say, “where’s yer truck?”  I would just slap my legs and say “right here.”  After being treated at the bar by South Africans, cold beers with some Germans, and hot dogs and wine with a French couple, I was able to finally call it a day well after my bedtime.

 

The relaxing river deck at the lodge

The lush, shady, and peaceful retreat of the KRL – worlds away from the previous 3 days of walking…and the days to follow for that matter

KRL’s Unimog – an appropriate vehicle for these parts

Solace Down the Kunene

December 22 - Day 3 

The weather favored me today – a welcomed change.  I woke to the gentle chatter of villagers passing by under overcast skies, but no rain.  As the day progressed, the clouds broke bringing with it the scorching sun I was expecting to battle.  It felt great to finally dry out.  As I continue west the environment is becoming more arid.  Today I walked through near lunar landscapes, save a few scrawny mopane trees.  The more typical desert flora is becoming more common; acacia, camelthorn, and aloes.  However, the fringes of the river remain dense with monster gnarled trees and makalani palms. I like the contrast. 

I had few interactions with the Himba today.  I have begun wondering what they think of me.  At one point today, I made my way down to the river via a cattle trail to take a break on the bank.  A couple of Himba boys later made their way down there but after seeing me they clearly became nervous.  They slowly moved away while peeking at me through the trees.  I waved as a friendly invite to come over but they only returned a blank stare and quickly scurried away.  I felt as if I was intruding.  This area does see a fair amount of tourist traffic, but more of the 4x4 zoom though type, not the solo hiker type.  It is a shame because there is so much more that can only be experienced on foot.  Today I spooked 3 crocs, a giant monitor lizard, klipsinger, and marveled at countless bird species.  Not to mention, poked around some giant den of some sorts.  These experiences are certainly less genuine with your hands grasping the steering wheel.

I finished the day at the Kunene River Lodge, a swanky retreat about 46km in.  The camping is expensive but the food is good and the beer is cold (merry early Christmas!)  The location is no doubt stunning but I feel a bit detached from nature right now.  I will take a rest day tomorrow and walk to the nearby village of Swartbooisdrif to replenish some supplies.  The next leg of the walk is the long one but will most certainly be the most interesting.

Gravel plains devoid of life – a reminder that as I continue west I am pushing further into Kaokoland, an area known for its remote, harsh, and arid desert wilderness

There were plenty of sandy beaches that would be perfect for lazing after a swim…if it weren’t for the crocs and skin-searing sun

 

Sunset at the Kunene River Lodge

Solace Down the Kunene

December 21 - Day 2

This morning started out very much the same as yesterday…with the steady pattering of rain on the tent fly. Not much of a morale booster. This has not been turning out as I had expected. As I waited for the rain to subside I ran through my options. I turn back and throw in the towel? I stay put and continue later in the day? Just get up, put a wet camp in my bag and trudge through the rain? Option 3 seemed like the least fun (at least type 2), but I figured what the heck, I am not losing my mind yet and at least it isn’t cold. After a quick breakfast and a hasty breakdown of camp, I hit the road decked out in my flimsy poncho (a glorified garbage bag.) Luckily, after only an hour or so the rain came to a stop.

The day turned out OK. Despite the muddy, slippery road, the weather held. I was happy to greet every Himba with a smile and a “wa penduka”. The walking was easy. I covered around 20km along 4x4 gravel road. For the most part, the only traffic was goats, cows, and donkeys with the exception of one South African convoy of jacked-up Landcruisers and Hiluxes. Later in the afternoon rain began to threaten once again. I found a place to camp in a scrub mopane forest about 150 yards off the bank of the river. I struggled looking for a place to set up the tent. This is not true wilderness. There are Himba settlements scattered about the valley and I am not entirely sure of the correct customs – do I need permission from the headman? I had to ensure that I found a place a comfortable distance between settlements. I think I did OK. There are cows on this side of me, donkeys on that side, and an occasional villager passing by on the road but no one has seemed to take notice of my intrusion. After being marooned in my tent once again this evening due to rain, I was finally able to emerge as the sun sank over the horizon. The last of the sun’s rays danced on the clouds which gave me hope. Somewhere to the west the clouds have broken. It makes me optimistic. Tomorrow, I continue west.

 

 Vibrant bird life along the river – some type of Kingfisher?

Stick and mud Himba shelter

Nylon and aluminum GC shelter

Solace Down the Kunene

December 20 - Day 1

One of my biggest concerns for the trek was quickly put to rest this morning as my alarm went off at 4 am. I awoke to the sound of rain pattering on the fly of my tent. It is now summer here which means the potential for serious heat is very real. My plan was to wake early and begin walking before the sun peeked over the horizon. To avoid the potentially dangerous heat I would walk in the early morning hours, find shade during the heat of the day, and then continue in the late afternoon. This is not the ideal time to be tackling this route. However, it is the shoulder season between the heat and the rains and today mother nature apparently decided on the rains. With the rain pounding my tent I decided to go back to sleep. No need to worry about the heat today. But with the rain showing no sign of letting up, my new concern became the rain itself. I certainly did not want to set out with a wet camp in my bag and no idea of what the weather was going to do. So I quickly packed up camp and moved into the relative security of the toilet/shower block. For the next 3 hours I contemplated what I should do. Should I hang tight another night and avoid the risk of being stuck in the middle of nowhere wet and miserable? If so, then I will need to ration my food for the remainder of the trip. Don’t really want to do that! As long as it kept pouring I knew what I had to do…hang tight. Finally though, I got a window. I quickly packed up my things just in time for it to start pouring again. Looks like I will be hanging tight. Boredom. I have to get out of this toilet. Another window comes around 2:30, so I take it. With a storm to the north and to the south, I nervously shoulder my pack and begin following the Kunene downstream. Despite the impending doom, it is invigorating to leave civilization behind and to be back in nature once again. I finish the short day at an unexpected campsite tended by a young Owambo man. The rain never came back. I made the right decision to leave the security of the toilet. 

The only dry chunk of property in the abandoned campground

 

Rain…the anti-motivator

 

So long, Ruacana

Solace Down the Kunene

December 19 - Ruacana 

Here I am, sitting on the banks of the river, looking down the Kunene River valley; Namibia to my left, Angola to my right. It is the eve of what’s going to be a long walk. It has been a long time since I have written in my journal but this feels like a fitting time and place to pick it back up. I am writing now to record this trip; one that I know will be remarkable. I am here to tackle 150km along the Kunene, Ruacana Falls to Epupa Falls, solo. It is going to be a test in so many ways, physically and mentally. Just like other extraordinary adventures in the past – floating on a yam barge up the Volta or trekking around the base of Mt. Everest – this one is also going to be defining. I have chosen to do this one solo because for me it is the solo trips that turn out to be more profound and life changing. Of course I am nervous, but that is part of the appeal.

After a 3-hour, nerve-racking ride in a dilapidated taxi to get here, I was assured that I was doing the right thing when I was greeted by three young Himba boys at the entrance to the campground. And when my firewood was delivered to me on the head of a half-naked Himba woman while I was intently keeping my eye on the 8-9 foot croc lazing on the beach across from camp, I knew I was in for something special. No longer am I scared or nervous about what the coming days will bring, but am now eagerly awaiting the predawn start and the following nine days of what is surely to be a profound experience.

The Kunene’s spectacular entrance into Namibia

Ominous weather down the valley, in fact, ominous weather all around