Off on an adventure in Namibia! (page 5 of 9)

I don’t know Epupa.

I’ve never been further north than Etosha except for the eastern part of the Caprivi Strip (but not from another part of Namibia).

Yeah, you still couldn’t have gone everywhere in such a short time! 😅

Richtersveld is nice. It’s worth the effort, so there’s no one around. 😛

April 19 – Day 9

Bam! Up again with the ostriches! Because the Namibian saying is clear: "If little white man falls asleep at the foot of Doros Crater, little white man must climb it at first light the next morning!" And that rascal Doros doesn’t make it easy! *Toot-toot, toot-toot-toot...* Morning muscle wake-up, cardio session, and a little sweat—it’s the standard price to get that first hit of wonder, straight into the veins, with that gorgeous low light bathing the savanna as it wakes up so languidly...





Once we’re back on giraffe-level ground, we keep racking up the kilometers, this time with another loooong sandy track leading us to Burnt Mountain, where the purple rock plays muse to our goal for a few minutes. Come on, another good dose of "Orangina, shake me up" track, a splash of twisty turns, panoramic views galore, and we cross the finish line at Twyfelfontein—happy. Happy to have crossed the finish line? Not really! Happy to have spent a day and a half on this track? Oh yeah, nothing but pure, self-serve joy! This expedition will definitely be etched as one of the highlights of our Namibian adventure! Thanks to my Flo for following me with eyes closed... and a special shout-out to our sprightly ride for not breaking down and ruining our good mood along the way!





Okay, so it wasn’t *really* the finish line—after some market research, we decided not to call it quits at Twyfelfontein and instead extend the fiesta with another bumpy dead-end track to the little village of De Riet, unknown to the tourist crowds.

I mean, this wild-goose-chase expedition led us right into the heart of a legendary region called Damaraland. Legendary partly because of its desert elephants. For a stack of cash, you can actually join an organized search from Twyfelfontein hoping to spot them. But that Easter egg hunt? You know us—we’d rather do it our way... from De Riet...

But first, what *are* desert elephants? They’re not a separate species, just African elephants that have adapted to the extreme conditions of Namibia’s arid northwest with their superpowers. Think elephants in blue tights and red undies... For example, they can walk dozens of kilometers a day just to find water. And here, we’re on *their* turf—they go where they please. No fences, no reserves, no national park... No guarantees of spotting them. Ricardo, a humble local from De Riet we met on arrival, confirms this. According to him, they’re even better at hide-and-seek at the start of the dry season, so he offers to hop in our vehicle to help us track them down. Since the fee is next to nothing, we happily open the doors to our cozy interior! And boy, were we glad we did! Not only does Ricardo have a master’s in elephant behavior with a focus on tracks, but without him, I think we’d have come back empty-trunked, so to speak. But lucky us—we got our pachyderm fix!



Let me tell you about the approach... After a bumpy ten kilometers or so, we reach a watering hole where Ricardo positions us strategically. And what perfect timing! In the distance, the silhouettes of a whole colony of elephants are already poking their trunks our way, marching straight toward us! A little mud bath for the whole family... and especially for our wide-eyed, childlike gazes, to the sound of their trumpeting! It’s a kind of magic...

Day 9 (continued)





Okay, I’ll keep it short, but after that wildlife spectacle, we’re driving through the riverbed: Bam, elephants! We reach a barely hidden plain: Bam again, elephants! We go back through another riverbed: Bam bam… Oh, no, this time it’s a giraffe! Anyway, the whole afternoon was packed with emotion, hanging out with the locals—well, the area’s inhabitants in general, and our dear Ricardo in particular! A big thanks to him!

Day 9 (continued)

Two days of discoveries, wonder, solitude, encounters, and dust... Quick, a shower! We found refuge for that at the Palmwag Lodge campsite, where the setting for our dinner was a stark contrast to last night’s. Which one would you have preferred?

And which one would you have preferred?

But really, why choose? 😎😛

Behind the handlebars of a tuk-tuk in Sri Lanka, at the wheel of a van in the USA, and in a trunk in the land of diamonds: Franck and the spirit of the places. Add a dash of humor, a pinch of self-deprecation, stretch it with a magical way with words, and you’ve got the recipe for this summer’s cocktail: the Bib 51 (to be enjoyed without moderation).

9 days, Over 2,500 kilometers on the clock already, Sleeping in the trunk, And a bout of traveler’s diarrhea thrown in for good measure...

The missus definitely earned her dinner at the lodge... Riding across Java on a scooter was way more chill!

It’s experiencing both that makes you appreciate each one even more. So cool to have crossed paths with the desert elephants again and again!

Hey Franck, let’s be real—you’re a storyteller. I can’t help but get hooked on your travel journal. I’ll try not to spill *too* many details, though—I’m terrified some naive daydreamers might think Namibia is a "walk in the park." Nope, Namibia is earned! Bravo, and keep it up.

PS: We’re flying out tomorrow night from Frankfurt to Windhoek for our 4th Namibian trip. This time, we’re doing it counterclockwise for the first time. See you soon!

At the handlebars of a tuk-tuk in Sri Lanka, behind the wheel of a van in the USA, and in a trunk in the land of diamonds: Franck and the spirit of the places. Add a dash of humor, a pinch of self-deprecation, top it off with a magical way with words, and you’ve got the recipe for this summer’s cocktail: the Bib 51 (to be enjoyed without moderation).

😏 If you switch to our travel journal in Uzbekistan, we’re hitting the road with hitchhiking! Thanks for your comment—it’s got the "style" too!

9 days, Already over 1,550 miles on the clock, Sleeping in the trunk, Plus a bout of traveler’s diarrhea...

The missus really earned her dinner at the Lodge... Crossing Java on a scooter was way more chill!

I’ll ask her opinion, just for fun... 😄 But you know, she’s the one forcing us to put up with this 😛

It’s having experienced both that makes you appreciate one AND the other. So cool to have crossed paths with the desert elephants again and again!

Both are definitely amazing in the moment! But after a few months, I have to admit the first one sticks in my memory way more...

Hey Franck, let’s be real—you’re a storyteller. I couldn’t stop reading your travel journal. I’ll try not to spill too many details because I’m terrified some naive dreamers might think Namibia is a "finger in the nose" kind of trip. Nope, Namibia is earned! Bravo and keep it up.

PS: We’re flying out tomorrow night from Frankfurt to Windhoek for our 4th Namibian adventure. This time, we’re doing it counterclockwise for the first time. See you soon!

Namibia—it’s a "finger in the nose" trip... if you plan it well! Of course, if you show up unprepared, you’re in for some surprises... kind of like China (leaving in a month).

Safe travels, anyway!!! Will you share your stories with us?

April 20 – Day 10



I don’t know if you remember, but we’re in Africa. It’s true that since we arrived in Namibia, we’ve been alternating between towns and villages with a Germanic structure and vast, rugged landscapes that shift between Iceland, the American West, the Bolivian Sud Lípez, or the Scottish moors. And yet, I just checked again—we’re definitely in Africa. But today’s journey should set the record straight and remind us which continent we’re really on. To experience the essence of Namibia, a long, bumpy track stretches ahead of us. And to spice up our morning, it first leads us into the vast Palmwag Reserve.

In its southern part, the scenery is undeniably stunning—rolling green hills as far as the eye can see—but we can’t shake the feeling of being utterly alone. Not that we usually mind, but a little hello from some furry, four-legged locals wouldn’t hurt... "Hello, world, is anybody out there?"







Not even a depressed mosquito on the horizon... On top of that, the signage is either poorly done at best or nonexistent, and the rough track is shaking both our vehicle and our patience. "I’d like to speak to a manager! Can someone please tell me where to file my refund request?"



Luckily, the northern part of the reserve promises to step things up with a section called "Rhino drive," hinting at the presence of large herbivores with magical horns. With a little hindsight, they should’ve called it "Zebra drive"! Because despite our four eyes scanning for even the tiniest fertility horn, no rhinos in sight today. "How about I trade your rhino card for a hundred mountain zebra cards—deal?" Sure, it wasn’t the spectacle we expected... but it’s hard not to feel the magic when faced with a hundred of these striped creatures frolicking in the wild. There’s something fascinating, almost mythical, about them...

Day 10 (continued)

After failing to keep its promises, the Palmwag reserve makes a last-ditch effort to keep us a few extra precious moments—its exit track serving up the best Africa has to offer: The unexpected! An unforeseen encounter? A moment of grace? Not even close! This little *unexpected* jerk goes by the name of "blown-out tire"! The little angel on my right shoulder grumbles: "Great… We’re gonna waste so much time, and I don’t even wanna think about the bill!" The little devil on my left shoulder cheers: "Too cool, this is finally gonna spice up the day! Smells like a story in the making!"



And he’s right! With a stopwatch in hand, the unlikely anecdote jumps us just a minute after the flat. Barely enough time to pop the trunk and pretend to know where the jack is when a vehicle pulls up beside us. "All is good?" The accent is *very* French. Confirmed—it’s a French couple. Our two new friends live in Namibia. Knowing the drill on this exact vehicle (they own the same one), the kind gentleman offers to help me change our tire while Flo chats with his charming wife. Ferrero Rocher, ambassador’s soirées—ring any bells? Because yes, our tire is changed in Formula 1 pit-stop mode… and the charming wife is none other than the French ambassador to Namibia herself! Whatever you wanna say, I’m genuinely blown away by the quality and speed of the French state’s help for its citizens abroad. Premium service on the house—thank you, Republic, thank you, Manu! And long live France!

"Okay, happy now? You got your story, but now you gotta roll up your sleeves and find a new tire!" Back to the little angel on my shoulder, grumbling… But this time, he’s right—we *do* need to follow his advice! Two hundred kilometers of rough track stand between us and Opuwo, the first town on our route. We cross all available fingers for the next three hours, hoping the rubber on our four remaining tires holds up…

Opuwo… or the feeling of *finally* having truly landed in Africa! The buzz in the streets, the noise, the dust, the poverty, the traditional outfits… and the resourcefulness! That’s exactly what we need right now, because the first two garages hit us with tourist-extortion prices. But the second one slips me the contact for his buddy’s cousin’s wife’s son, who *might* be able to help us find a decent second-hand tire without draining our savings. Off we go, cruising the town like a safari, hunting for a good deal, dragging it to a little roadside stall to get it mounted, only to realize *this* tire’s flat too. Back to the hunt for the perfect find, track it down, haul it back to the same stall, get it mounted, withdraw cash to pay, and *finally* we’re back on the road like gods. Go go go!!! Off to Epupa!



The road trip to Epupa, in the far north of the country, is *supposed* to be an adventure on its own. But with our tire sagas, we’re living this Africa Saga—buckle up, it’s gonna get bumpy—partly at night. A *terrible* idea, according to every expert… We pass through Kirikou-style villages by day… We weave between cows, jackals, drunk guys, and goats at night… until we arrive, exhausted, at our campsite in Epupa.

Welcome, indeed! A "Beware of Crocodiles" sign on our spot, a cute little scorpion under the grill, and a demonic spider with blood-red eyes thirsting for blood in the starlit shower… "Uh… excuse me… are they dangerous? - Yes, very dangerous! - Yikes…" Flo, officially excused from showering tonight! Welcome to Africa!

Palmwag in green is weird.😮 I remember it being mostly red and dry.

A Martian landscape, the feeling heightened by being completely alone there.

Bad luck that the tire couldn’t be repaired. It’s only happened once that we had to change it after a few punctures.

What an unlikely encounter! That's amazing 😎

Biboun51 in China, can't wait to see the travel journal

By the way, you mentioned that your 2026 and 2027 trips are already planned—mind sharing what’s next on the adventure list if it’s not too nosy?

That's weird, Palmwag in green.\nI remember it being mostly red and dry.\n\nA Martian landscape, an impression reinforced by the fact that we were completely alone there.\n\nBad luck that the tire couldn't be repaired. It only happened once that we had to change it after a few punctures.\n\nYeah, the photos I'd seen before leaving made it look like a glowing red spectacle! The end of the rainy season brought us green instead!\nFor the flat tire, yeah, the tire was ripped open! I drove over the mounds created by the groomers...