Namibia Part 2 - Germans .... are Germans even when they're African

After our amazing balloon ride ... which on landing led seamlessly into gourmet breakfast amongst the vast spaces of the desert - we were feeling that life was pretty bloody good.... buoyed by champagne (opened in the pic by machete), fresh croissants and some very tasty zebra carpaccio (welcome to being bourgeois african style) .... we set off on the next 6 hour drive from Sossousvlei up to Swakopmund ... a town that sounds like something you might bring up after a long coughing fit .... and frankly as we were soon to find out - is pretty much as appealing .....

Several long hours later .... and minus one hub cap thanks to peter's speed stunts .... we limped into Swakop .... a small greasy and rather grey town on the coast of namibia ..... according to the hype - apparently THE summer activity resort and a town that has resolutely stuck to its German origins (founded back when Germany had an African colonial presence) ..... a bit like a small slice of Bavaria transplanted into the wilds ....

First stop - our B&B on the beach .... which was shaped like a boat .... clearly the German sense of humour hasn't been a trait that was selected out over the years .... not wanting to spend too much time on board - we then ventured out into the town to find the craic in this holiday town ....and were met instead by raher doleful streets .... and restaurants that if i walked in first would have no tables ... and yet if peter or corey walked in - suddenly vacancies would arise .... we all agreed - the place was cold and vile .... and even the very yummy wheat beer (Erdinger Wiessbier - wholehertedly recommend) that we used all night to lift our spirits didn't redeem the nastiness .....

The next day - we raced out of there as soon as we could ... and headed to nearby Walvis Bay ... made famous by the fact that Brangelina sat out their pregnancy and delivered here .... small coastal town surrounded by gossamer pillowy sand dunes and flocks of rather smelly flamingoes .... but apparently according to the guidebooks - a hub for all activity sports aiming to become the Victoria Falls of Namibia ... just without the waterfall ..... hmmmm ......

We soon found what we were looking forward .... three dune bikes .... one guy to lead us .... and a sequence of private dunes all to ourselves unadulterated by any other tourists ..... perfect for our ever-sociable corey ....

Now i'll admit ... at first it took some time to figure out how to change the gears on the damn bike .... and i'll admit that i got stuck multiple times in the sand whilst the chaps zoomed around and over dunes like ninjas .... but once i got the hang of it .... we were speeding around like giddy schoolgirls .... and then .... we came to the Big Dunes with the Vertical Drops .... and i started remembering all the promises i'd made to my mum to not do anything dangerous when in africa (!) .... and all the patients i'd seen with broken limbs .... but there was nowhere to go but down and with eyes half closed and too scared even to scream ..... i followed the guys down (who later admitted they'd also been scared witless and had assumed i'd never make it .... clearly my fearless reputation is only in my head) .....

It was an awesome experience - and we put Peter on a plane back to CT at Walvis Bay - all our boy-racer fantasies happily realised ..... we only needed to speed away as fast as possible from the Afro-Germans ... and onwards .....