After the animal shenanigans of Etosha and Cheetah Park, it was time for us to get our Mother Earth on and make our way south to Spitzkoppe. Spitzkoppe is a group of towering granite peaks - more than 700 million years old - which rise spectacularly out of the Namibian desert plains around it. For all the enjoyment Jen and I had gotten out of our animal experiences so far in Namibia, dramatic and other-worldly landscapes are what the country is truly best known for and approaching the peaks from a distance gave us a taster of what was coming.
Another evening of back-to-basics camping awaited us, though this one was set not in bushland or on the side of the road but rather marvellously at the base of the mountain - which Drew reliably informed us was a 20 minute climb the following morning. At the time this seemed like a reasonable thing for Drew to say. Time would prove otherwise.
Before that, however, was a climb to the top of one of the smaller nearby rocks which provided perfect sunset views. I realise that everyone is probably getting sick of our sunset shots, but as long as they continue to look this good, I'm afraid we're going to continue to take pics and publish them.
Two other interesting discoveries awaited us as well - first, the nearby bushman rock paintings, and second the disturbingly large number of disturbingly large bugs, which seemed to consider our campsite and surrounds to be their own property.
Given that our trustworthy driver and guide had assured us of a twenty minute climb up to the shoulder of the peak for sunrise, Megan, Carol, Jen, Mercedes and I rose at 6am and began our ascent - it was Megan's birthday so Drew stayed behind to cook up a breakfasty storm for her (and us). It took all of about 10 minutes to realise that this wasn't going to be a 20 minute climb, given that after that amount of time we still hadn't found a path up the side of the cliff and, what with it being pitch dark and all, we weren't likely to either.
Smart people would have given up the sunrise idea and just waited for enough early morning light to see by so as to make the climb a little later. We are not smart people.
So we climbed pretty much blind over jagged rocks, gaping chasms and very steep inclines until the morning sun began to light our way, showing us just what a a) treacherous and b) spectacular ascent we were engaged in. Making it to the top for sunrise was, by this time, a complete non-starter but it was a matter of pride to find our way all the way up anyway. Carol, Mercedes and Megan decided, quite sensibly, to call it a morning about three quarters of the way up and begin their descent, and Jen was on the verge of joining them until I convinced her to wait for me while I continued climbing. Screw sunrise, I wasn't going to have come this sodding far to not reach the top no matter how long it took. So, and hour and a half after beginning our "20 minute" ascent, I reached the top and proclaimed myself the King of Everything. On seeing the view, I went back to get Jen and (eventually) convinced her to come up and join me. I was pretty sure she didn't want to miss this. I was right.
You know what the problem with getting to the top of somewhere high is? You have to get down, and in the cold light of day we realised that the reason we couldn't find a clear path up is because there sodding wasn't one, and we'd have to go back down in the same manner that we'd come up. Or just jump and hope for the best. I was seriously considering that option about two thirds of the way down when Jen and I had managed to climb our way into an utterly hopeless position and then had to backtrack about half the distance we'd just traversed to find an alternate route. My swearing echoed really loudly in the morning air though, so that was something.
So finally we made it back in one piece, aching but exhilarated with ourselves, somewhat less so with Drew, who was now serving up a birthday breakfast feast (complete with party blowers) and explaining innocently that he'd actually only climbed it once, it had been in broad daylight, and that it hadn't actually taken him 20 minutes at all. Git.
His breakfast was bloody good though.
So having tasted Namibia's wildlife and its natural wonders, we now head toward Swakopmund - the country's adrenalin capital - for some man made fun. Bring it.
Things Jennie will Remember:
1) Seeing a leopard turtle on the journey towards Spitzkoppe
2) Thinking how useful it would have been to have brought the gardening gloves that we purchased to hike to see the Mountain Gorillas in as we scrambled over sharp rock surfaces.... then realising at the bottom that I had a pair in my bag all along.
Here are the photos:
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