Bill Withers Rolling in His Grave

I’m not sure quite why but Namibians love to play copycat versions of songs—these are mostly big US hits but re-mastered by UK  or Africaan artists.  And let me just say for the record—they are AWFUL. Doug mentioned the other day that he had never heard a Springsteen song sung with such little soul.  Agreed. 

Last Saturday Doug and I took off in our trusty 2WD rental for the desert.  We planned to drive the first day over a mountain pass and spend the night in a placed called Solitaire before heading to the most famous tourist attraction in Namibia—the largest sand dunes in the world—Sossusvlei.   We headed   off on a random road outside of Windhoek which was only on paved road for about 10 miles before it turned to gravel (fairly standard here).  Along we drove through rolling landscape for about 150 or so miles—we began to come across puddles of water and I was nominated to get out, walk through to check for depth and give the thumbs up.  About 5 puddles in, we ran into a tourist group (in a large, SUV).  The guides’ exact words, “If you try to go up this path, you will DESTROY your car.”  This was the first of two large SUV’s that came from the other direction and stopped to warn us—so we decided to take their word for it and turn around.

We then tried to take several different roads but each time realized that we simply weren’t going to make it in our little squirt mobile.  So, all the way back we drove to Windhoek and down the paved B1. Five hours later, we were in a real good mood.

Around sunset we pulled into Hardap Dam—Doug suggested it was the Lake Tahoe of Namibia, I would suggest something more along the lines of the Pueblo Reservoir.  We pulled into one of two campsites in this 1970’s esque rest camp and settled in for the evening.  The view of the damn was lovely.  The company, not so much.  Think of the reservoir crowds on holiday weekends—lots of boats, beers and barbecue.  Around midnight (hours and hours after we’d been asleep) the campsite next to us began their karaoke hour.  And karaoke hour consisted of only one song—Lean on Me—and not by Bill Withers.  Lean on Me with synthetic beats and a back up choir, over and over and over again.  I tossed and turned and weighed the options…not a lot of guns in Namibia—if I go over and threaten them, they probably won’t have a gun.   Only the fact that I knew my Mom would disapprove kept me from rolling out of my tent to kick some ass and take names.

5AM rolled around and Doug and I got up early to make it to the Dunes  at a decent  hour.  If I ever hear that tune again, I will hurt somebody.

Next day we saw the mountains we couldn't get over in our 2WD from the other side.