If I could only use one word to sum up the journey to Swakopmund, it would be desolate.
Preternaturally bright blue skies hung over vast horizons of inhospitable desert and a nothingness that was quite foreboding to drive through. We drove for miles and miles without seeing another person, vehicle or town which encouraged a sense of uncomfortable isolation we haven't felt anywhere else on the trip (I'd rather break down on the A470 / Manor Way junction at midnight again rather than an unforgiving Namibian desert road!).
With the exception of a few hardy birds, there were no signs of life at all - even the river beds had dried up - so we were more than happy to eventually reach Swakopmund.
Unfortunately, a severe sand storm was due to hit the town and surrounding area when we were there so there was a possibility all activities could be called off. Not wanting to chance it, Gary, Hector and I signed up to sky dive later that day.
(Luckily we hadn't seen the footage of the American woman falling out of her harness earlier that week, although my last words to the tandem master before jumping were, "There are two parachutes in there, right?")
I can't begin to put into words the exhilaration of sky diving so I'm not even going to try as I think the photos below say it all!
We also went on a two hour, stomach churning quad bike ride over the dunes which caused a significant increase in heart rate. We all decided to use semi-automatic bikes which allowed us to navigate some serious hairpin bends at far faster speeds than we should have done. I wasn't too keen on that.
Despite my (small) collection of speeding points, I prefer driving on tarmac roads with white lines in the middle rather than chance the wilderness and sheer drops of shape-shifting sand dunes thank you.
According to some of the boys, it's the closest they'll ever get to realising their childhood dreams of riding a speeder through the deserts of Tatooine (whatever that means!).
Swakopmund is a very bizarre little town - not quite African, not quite German (Namibia was colonised by the Germans) - with its colonial-era infrastructure, pastel coloured buildings, half timbered houses and manicured lawns on a backdrop of swaying palm trees, orange sand dunes and volatile blue ocean.
We're now travelling down to Fish River Canyon (said to be the second largest canyon on the world although there's some debate over that because some say it's a gorge. Potato / Potatoe I say) via Sossusvlei.
Walking up Namibia's most famous and iconic sand dune (imaginatively named Dune 45. Guess how many kms outside of Sossusvlei it is?) was a killer. I was so out of breath, I was concerned I'd dislodged a lung halfway up.
It was worth all the huffing and puffing though as the 360 view of surrounding terracotta dunes was travel brochure stunning.
Whilst climbing up was a real struggle (which was much, much harder than I'd imagined), bounding down the sides was brilliant fun, even when face-planting the soft sand!
(Rivers House walkers, please someone arrange some outings for when I get back. I desperately need to get my fitness level up after three months of excessive eating and drinking!)
Anyway, we only have a few more days in Namibia before we arrive at South Africa where we'll we spending a few days in Stellenbosch - land of wine tours and, for the week we're there, home to the junior rugby world cup.
As luck would have it, we arrive at midday and kick off between Wales and New Zealand is at 2.30!
C'mon Cymru!
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