Dozens of species of indigenous birds and animals inhabit the trees and climbing plants on the river’s edge, and wildlife is abundant in the adjoining desert. The local Himba villages, some occupied and some not, depending on the itineraries of the semi-nomads, fit into the topography as naturally as the mountains and dunes.
After two glorious days in the middle of nowhere, we fly along the course of the Kunene all the way to the coast, where the river broadens as it flows into the sea. This is one of the most remote parts of Namibia, difficult to reach without an aircraft.
Turning south, we follow the Skeleton Coast, 500 kilometres of light and shadow, sand and water. The contrast between wet and dry is stark, amazing, and dramatic, etching indelible memories. The colours – navy and marine blues, yellows, beiges, rusty reds – and the shapes – curves of sand and beach windblown into an undulating line of living ocean and dunes – change by the second in response to sun, cloud and wind. We have put our feet in the sands of the Skeleton Coast before, but flying over it adds a whole new dimension.
We circle the seals at Cape Cross, engaging different senses than those we associated with these animals in the past, as in incredibly loud and extremely smelly. Viewing 100 000 seals from the air conjures up an image of a very large anthill, until you drop down close enough for Africa’s largest Cape fur seal colony to fill up the entire wide-angle lens with large writhing creatures. We ask the same question we ask on crowded Italian beaches – with so much coastline to choose from, why don’t they spread out a little?
Further down the coast, we land at Swakopmund and enjoy a lunch of kabeljou, caught that very morning. We love this old German coastal resort, which flirts with its weather a little like Venice, continually going from bright, clear sunshine and cobalt blue skies to moody grey fog rolling in from the ocean.
After lunch it’s back to the airport and the flight to Kulala Desert Lodge. This coastal route takes us over Sandwich Harbour and then southwards, where the 40 000 square kilometres of the Namib-Naukluft Park edge the water. About three quarters of the way down the coast, we turn inland over the vast dune sea. No matter how many times you fly, drive, walk, or climb these dunes, they look different every day. The patterns change endlessly and the colours reflect the angle of the sun as it passes from east to west, creating new and marvellous panoramas.