My beauty pageantry education is still going strong. I'm now somewhat familiar with the current and previous years' Miss South Africa and Miss Namibia. Did you know that the top tier of beauty pageants, Miss Universe, awarded the crown to 2019's Miss South Africa, Zozibini Tunzi? She was, and is, "iconic", as the lingo goes.
This detour into beauty pageants is proving to be practical as an anchor for my memories of South West Africa. I always assumed beauty pageants to be an inherently North American thing. I knew about Miss Universe as an international competition, but I had never felt the fervor with which the broader world participates. Whenever I come across beauty pageants in the future, I'll surely be transported to my early weeks in Namibia.
This random education has also been enlightening as to how small and interconnected the population of Namibia is. My honorable hosts seem to have chance encounters with friends everywhere we go, and many of them have a connection to pageants. We even spotted previous Miss Namibia contestants while at a karaoke event last week. It sure helps when you have Windhoek's most popular red-head as your tour guide ;).
I love how fun and easy it is to learn about nearly anything from passionate people. Either that, or I just enjoy looking at beautiful women. Probably both, hehe.
Windhoek, the capital, is home to a fifth of Namibia's entire population of ~2.5 million. Namibia typically ranks as about the 5th least densely populated country in the world.
Into the mountains
There was nothing pretty about the weather from Witsand onward. I knew it would be winter in South Africa, but it really lit a fire under my ass to deal with so much wind, rain, and cold. Witsand was an oasis; a calm before the storm that lie waiting in the exposed expanse of the Karoo.
After a quick run to Cape Agulhas, and a detour to Hermanus to meet with another bitcoiner, I turned inland toward Robertson in the mountains. This town didn't make the strongest impression on me. I only passed through to pick up my trusty Insta360 camera at the post office. Thanks to the generosity of yet another bitcoiner, Dylan, I received a healthy discount on the camera; paid in bitcoin, of course. Dylan, if you're reading this, thank you very much! The camera has been an incredible asset.
I camped in the hills near town that night. It was a bit dodgy, but the hills were picturesque in the morning. I continued my traverse of the mountains along the beautiful route 62, the town of Montagu, and into the Karoo. I chose a dirt track that skirted along the Anysberg Nature Reserve, leading me to the nearest gas station in the small town of Touws River.
What on Earth is happening to me?
I still don't really know what came over me in Touws River. Until that point, I think I didn't have a grasp of what I was up to. This is where the Karoo, and this entire adventure, started feeling very real.
Part of what I love about writing is that I get to relive my experiences. It takes time and effort to process the thoughts and sensations that arise and compound on long days of new sights, smells, and sounds. There are people, vistas, wildlife, flowers, and challenges that harken to my past and hint at the future. You never know when a moment will become a life-long memory.
I will never forget what arose upon refueling in Touws River. I had to take a break from writing as the feelings re-emerged here at this table, almost a month later. It was overwhelming; as if a great space was expanding inside me. Cathartic loneliness. My chest was ablaze along with what felt like an intense urge to cry. No tears came. This wasn't sadness I felt.
For some reason, I now feel like I was being "beckoned forth". Have I been endowed with a responsibility? Was it not my own choice to do all this? I feel like a boy upon whose father assigned some insurmountable task: an unclear filial piety. Is the goal of this journey greater than the sum of its parts? For now, I have more questions than I have answers.
I just exhaled a long sigh of relief. Did I just release something? Is this a sense of foreshadowing? I feel beyond myself as I complete this sentence. Writing can facilitate moments of "flow", like this one, being entirely in the present. That's the goal, isn’t it? If so, I have arrived, yet the map says otherwise...
Sutherland
My late grandmother, Lily, was from the Karoo. I thought of her often as I pushed on. This place didn't seem to allow for much nonsense, much like her. She certainly had a sense of humor, though. Ominous…
I camped about 70km before Sutherland that night, which I later learned is known as the coldest place in South Africa. Very funny. I literally pried my frozen fingers from the handlebars once I arrived the following morning.
Sutherland is also the location of South Africa's most powerful telescopes, thanks to its ideal geography. I don't know if you've tried this but, if you look at the blackest spots in the night sky with binoculars, you'll discover that even these areas are crowded with stars. That's what I did as I lay overjoyed and exhausted in my tent that night. I chuckled at the irony of being overcome by the Karoo, yet here I was gazing into the infinite reaches of the universe with a song in my heart.
The Tankwa
The feeling in my fingers returned by late morning and, by mid-afternoon, I finally thawed and felt ready for more. Sutherland is an ideal entry point into the Tankwa Karoo National Park, and my mind has long been set on cutting a 250km trail through it. I filled my jerry bag and head for the hills outlining the edge of the Tankwa plateau.
I was advised that the lower elevation of the Tankwa yielded warmer temperatures than Sutherland. True as this might have been, the overall reality of the weather was overpowering. After only 15 minutes into the Tankwa, my motorcycle felt like a wet noodle as it slid all over the place. The road conditions were atrocious and it didn't seem any better up ahead. I could still see blue sky looking back to where I came from, but ahead the grey clouds moved swiftly over the land as I searched across the Tankwa landscape. There was a different weather system unfolding here.
I have rarely turned back once setting my mind on a plan, but this detour was developing into a bad idea. Feeling only a lit bit sorry for myself, I turned around. "I'll be back", I muttered to myself, which is true. The Tankwa Karoo National Park is where AfrikaBurn, a festival, gathers each April when the park is warm, dry, and dusty. I've long since eclipsed the peak of my festival years, but AfrikaBurn is a must for me. This is where I will be in April of 2024. If you're keen to join, then you are warmly welcome.
Williston and Verneukpan
Arriving back in Sutherland, I made a quick search to check temperatures across the country. By now I was sick of ill weather and wanted to head where the warmth was. All the coldest places were along the coast so I settled on Upington as my general waypoint to Namibia. My intention was to head through Calvinia, but the weather impacted my plans again. Calvinia would have been further West from where I was and the winds were blowing Eastward, which meant confronting more weather fluctuations. Despite a more remote and rough route, tending Eastward with the wind toward Williston allowed me to flow along with calm patches of weather.
It was easier traveling from there on out. I checked into a guesthouse in Williston to take rest from the previous days' excitement. The Tankwa had distracted me from my existential angst, but the calm of the guesthouse allowed it to jump back to the front of my awareness. I experienced a clear desire to connect with my siblings, which I did that night.
Feeling reassured, it was a quick ~400km from Williston to Upington. I saw something odd on the map, so I decided to take a detour through what turned out to be South Africa's largest salt flats, Verneukpan. Here's a short video of my trip through it.
Upington, on the Orange river, marked the end of the Karoo. The desert left me feeling stripped naked. I had nowhere to hide on my vulnerable motorcycle with barely a tree or a hill to break the wind or shield from the rain. I'm grateful for the Karoo. In terms of weather and geography, what lies ahead should be relatively smooth sailing.
My next post will divulge my longer-than-expected stay in Upington, and share my sense of flowing through the dreamscapes of the Kalahari.
Until then,
G
Dis moeilik om so deur die Karoo te reis sonder dat dit jou affekteer. Lekker om van jou ervarings te lees. Mooi geskryf ! Geniet die avontuur.