Wilkinson's World

Archive for September, 2009

Anyone who has traveled from Windhoek to Swakopmund will be familiar with the imposing outline of the Spitzkoppe mountains.  Standing on a flat plain at an altitude of 1728m above sea level, they should be clearly visible.  Often, however, they are shrouded by haze or dust.

The highest peak is 700m and is known locally as =/Gaingu, meaning the last large mountain on the way north (isn’t that quaint!)  It sits proudly alongside other domed mountains called the Pondoks, which is the local vernacular for small rounded huts that are made from branches and cow dung.  Further west lie the Little Spitzkoppe. These granite inselbergs have been eroded over time by wind and weather and shaped into the interesting rocks that so many folks have come to love.

Spitzkoppe is an easy three hour drive from Windhoek and as we’d never camped in the area before we were keen to experience it for ourselves.  We arrived quite late in the afternoon and were a little dismayed to find that all the regular campsites were already occupied.  By regular I mean those campsites that had a 44 gallon drum serving as a dirt bin – there were no other facilities on offer, not even toilets or water, at least that we could see!    We drove around until we found a nice spot right up against an enormous granite mountain – in fact a sheer cliff rose hundreds of meters above us, making our car look quite dinky by comparison.

Night fell quickly as the sun sank down behind the mountain and it wasn’t long before we were treated to the sight of an enormous orange full moon that made the need for torches quite unnecessary.

Rob soon had a fire going and we sat chatting about the prospect of seeing new birds the following day.  Our Roberts Bird Guide told us that Herero Chats were endemic to this area and they would be lifers for us.  It’s always exciting to notch up a lifer and to get a photo of one is an added bonus.

We were up early the next morning and after breakfast, we walked a short way from our campsite around the base of the mountain, where we came to a clearing with a thicket of bushes covered in purple tubular flowers.  This turned out to be a magical spot as the flowers attracted the Dusky Sunbirds and there were literally dozens of these lovely little birds flitting from bush to bush drinking in the nectar.  Rob was in his element photographing them and we spent a good hour there totally enthralled at the spectacle before us.

We eventually dragged ourselves away and headed back across the plains to an area called Small Bushman’s Paradise where rock art adorns the faces of enormous boulders.

Along the way we noticed some mountaineers attempting a particularly steep and difficult climb.  The enormity of what they were doing struck us when we saw how small they looked against the rocks meters above us.  This area is a favourite with rock climbers and over the years many have met their fate on these perilous mountains.

It gets quite hot walking, even in winter, so it’s always a good idea to carry plenty of water and something to eat.  We had lunch in the shade of some big boulders and managed to tick off a pair of Herero Chats, although getting a decent photo of them proved somewhat difficult.  The birdlife in this area is quite magnificent with about 200 different species on the list.  There are also a number of animals to be found, but they made themselves very scarce during our visit and we were out of luck until the following day.

By mid-afternoon we were ready to head back to camp and take a rest.  The campsite offered up no shade at all so it was rather hot inside the rooftop tent.  We did manage to sleep for a bit and were woken rather rudely by birds gathering outside.  I had thrown some breadcrumbs out for them and as we’d taken our cameras up with us, we were able to photograph them from our own ‘bird hide’.  Starlings, Mountain Chats and Hornbills all fought over the scraps of bread as we clicked away happily unseen above them.

It had been a magnificent day and we’d had plenty of exercise, sunshine and birds to photograph.  Once again the moon gave us a special show as we bid farewell to the day.

We packed up our belongings the next day and drove to all the places that we hadn’t been able to go to on foot.  Our first visit was to the southern part of the area where the boulders were spanned by an enormous natural arch of rock.  From here the Erongo Mountains were clearly visible in the distance.  The guide book told us that there were some old graves on the way to Bushman’s Paradise, but try as we might we couldn’t find them.

We stopped off at a disused water reservoir that was covered with bushes and trees and were delighted to spot a pair of black mongooses.  The black mongoose (Galerella nigrata) is a fairly rare specimen in Namibia and is mainly found in the Erongo mountains.  I had been fortunate enough to spot these elusive creatures on two previous occasions and had a hard time getting Rob to believe that I’d actually seen them!  I was therefore especially pleased when we came across the pair at the reservoir and Rob was able to see them for himself.  They were rather shy though and ducked into the undergrowth and although we waited for a good half hour for them to reappear, they must have been watching us and kept hidden.

From there we moved on to Bushman’s Paradise, on the eastern side of the area.  Here there is a climb up a steep incline, with assistance provided by a thoughtfully placed chain handrail.

From the top it’s a short walk to a rock shelter in which a number of paintings can be found.  This art, believed to have been the handiwork of the San people some 25 000 years ago, was created using extracts from vegetables, blood from animals as well as the urine from dassies (Rock Hyrax) and even Ostrich egg yolks.  It was a sacred area for the nomadic people of old and many of the paintings depict their spiritual practices.  We watched in horror as other visitors placed their hands on the paintings.  This is causing significant damage to these ancient paintings and we wondered why their guide didn’t dissuade them from doing this.  Often visitors wet the paintings to make them clearer to photograph – another reason why they are fading at a faster rate than ever before.

Our time at Spitzkoppe was drawing to an end.  It had been a wonderful weekend and we were happy to take away lots of happy memories of our two days there.  As we drove out we passed the local Spitzkoppe community, who farm the area with goats and cattle.  The area abounds in semi-precious stones and these also form part of their income as visitors are always keen to buy them.

Well worth a visit, we will definitely be going back to Spitzkoppe before we head home to South Africa.

 I once read a story about a desperate young mother whose firstborn child had taken ill and died.  Grief stricken, she carried the body of the child to Buddha and asked him to perform a miracle and bring the little one back to life.  The Buddha told her that the only way he could do this was if she could bring him a grain of mustard seed from any home in the city that had never been touched by death.  Elated, she immediately rushed from house to house, only to find out that her mission was impossible.  Every home had experienced death and she came to realize that her loss was not unique. 

What brought this little story to mind was a small wooden cross I saw nailed to a tree next to the freeway, inscribed with the name of a young lady who had obviously died tragically on that spot.  I don’t know about elsewhere in the world, but there is a growing tendency in South Africa and Namibia to commemorate accident spots like this – sometimes a telephone pole or a traffic light is decorated with flowers, but mostly little crosses are erected next to the road.  I’m not worried about a wreath laid at the spot where the person has died – wreaths get cleared away, but it’s the wooden or iron roadside crosses that remain indefinitely. 

I often wonder why the grieving families do this.  Does the age of the deceased have anything to do with it, or is it done even when an older person dies accidentally?  And what do they hope to achieve by marking the spot like this?  Whilst there is indescribable sadness involved in losing a family member this way, surely these morbid memorials merely serve to perpetuate the pain for the grieving families each time they drive past the site.  

It really gets my back up when I see these crosses, as I actually feel that this practice almost borders on arrogance.  Are they implying that their family member’s untimely death was worse than anyone else’s?  It is just as painful and tragic to lose a loved one to illness, drowning, suicide, murder or accident, but the rest of us don’t go putting up crosses on hospital lawns, on driveways or in buildings where our loved ones have died suddenly or tragically. 

They might argue that it is to warn other drivers about the dangers of that particular spot, but I think this is secondary in their minds.  Many times the cross is on a dead straight section of road where there is no danger except perhaps of falling asleep.  Succumbing to tiredness could happen anywhere on the road, so why mark the spot.  They are putting their grief on show instead of handling it with quiet dignity and fortitude.  The memory of their loved one should live on in their hearts.  It surely doesn’t take a cross at the side of the road to commemorate the unfortunate accident victim.  If crosses sprang up for every road death, we would have littering on an alarming scale.  

For months I drove past a cross next to the highway, where fresh flowers were placed every week.  My heart went out to the person or persons who performed this loving ritual, but my sadness was for their inability to move on from a tragic event.  It also begged the question of whether they had buried or cremated their loved one.  Were they putting flowers in the cemetery as well as at the roadside? 

Obviously everyone copes with death differently and there is no right way of working through grief.  I think, however, that what we need to do is ponder on life and death whilst we are alive and maybe even chat about our views and feelings at family gatherings.  This may sound macabre and not the sort of thing people should really dwell on, but it would go a long way towards easing the pain of those left behind. 

If you made it perfectly clear to family members that you didn’t want the family grieving for long or putting their lives on hold because you weren’t with them anymore, it could be very comforting and liberating for them.  They would be fulfilling your wishes by not grieving and being miserable and by moving on with their lives.  Instead of feeling sorry for themselves for having lost a wonderful family member, they could turn it around and be thankful for having had the good fortune to have shared a part of their lives with that special person.  They could then celebrate that life and get on with their own, which incidentally, after a loss, should take on a new meaning for them as they realize that life can be short and needs to be lived to the fullest. 

I guess that it’s our resistance to change that causes our heartache when someone close dies.  The problem is that we foolishly believe in permanence.  There’s no such thing.  Even now, our bodies are changing and cells are dying every day.  Our lives, like an ocean tide are in a constant state of ebb and flow and we have very little control over the changes that take place around us.  When we try to clutch at things, to control them and hang on to them, we suffer, because we’re trying to work against nature.  We so desperately want everything to continue as it is that we believe that things will never, or should never change.  Unfortunately this belief has little to do with reality and leads to great pain. 

I’m not a Buddhist, but I do believe that their policy of non-attachment makes a whole lot of sense.  They believe that we should not be attached to anything – people, outcomes, events, etc.  On the surface it sounds like a very shallow way of living, because after all we are very much attached to those people and things we love.  However, when one thinks about it, it is these attachments that bring us the most pain in our lives.  When we’re attached to material things, we mourn their loss; when we are attached to people, houses, jobs or relationships, we mourn their loss.  When we attach ourselves to outcomes over which we have no control, we are thrown when they don’t come to pass, or when they are not what we envisaged. 

Non-attachment doesn’t mean living without loving.  It means having the emotional maturity to move on when faced with the transient nature of life.  It certainly sounds like an ideal worth striving for and I for one wouldn’t want my family to be attached to tragic events, but rather to carry their love for me in their hearts after I’m gone, instead of on a little iron cross next to the roadside.  I’d rather be remembered by something more positive, like a plaque on a bench at my favourite viewsite or in a lovely garden of remembrance. 

Let me end by saying that I’m certainly not there yet and have a long way to go before I can claim that I’m not attached to anything. 

Summer is not the best time of the year to go to the Waterberg as we were to find out when we paid the area a visit.  However, we duly set off from Windhoek on a Friday afternoon and drove the 300 kms north with high expectations and our usual enthusiasm when going to see a new place.

As always, we had our guide books with us so could read up on the geology and history of the area.  Nicole Grunert has an interesting book (Namibia – Fascination of Geology) that describes how erosion formed the enormous red sandstone cliffs of the Waterberg.  According to her the Waterberg was mainly characterized by tectonic processes, when an equalizing movement in the earth’s crust took place causing a comprehensive elevation of the land.  An old fault zone in the area of the Waterberg was reactivated and this zone, which stretches from Omaruru, past the Waterberg up to Grootfontein, is now known as the Waterberg Thrust.

The Waterberg cliifs

Historically, the area is famous for the final battle of the Herero uprising in 1904.  Here, a comparatively small number of Germans put down the Hereroes and brought an end to the war.  The battle was apparently made very difficult by the dense vegetation in the area.  Today a small cemetery marks the final resting place of about seventy young German men who lost their lives in the fight.  A long way from home, it is sad that they had to give up their promising young lives in such a remote and desolate spot.

It is the victors who usually get to write the history and sadly we could find no memorial to the many Hereros who fought and died for what they believed in.

The cemetery at Waterberg

The campsite in the Waterberg Plateau Park is a beautiful shaded oasis with enormous trees and sprinklers that lazily flick water over the lush green lawns.  We found a super shady site fairly close to the ablution block and soon had the rooftop tent up and our table and chairs unpacked.   Our first impression was of lots of bird activity in the park with starlings, crimson breasted shrikes, forked tailed drongos and noisy wood hoopoes flitting around.

The campsite

Apart from the birds, the sprinklers attracted a few little ground squirrels that were quite tame and didn’t run away when we approached them.

Ground squirrel

A short walk towards the towering sandstone cliffs had us passing a fair sized restaurant and an inviting looking swimming pool.  At the foot of the mountain, some distance from the campsites, a number of chalets were nestled amongst shady thorn trees.

Being one of the more popular Parks Board camps, we had to share the spot with other campers.   Our site had a large concrete braai where later we were able to cook our meat and potatoes whilst enjoying the cool of the evening and the sound of crickets around us.  When you’re sitting in the dark, watching the flickering fire flames and enjoying the symphony of the night creatures you truly feel like you’re one with the African bushveld.  For me it’s a special time of the day and I really savour the experience.

Our plan the next day was to climb up the cliffs to the top of the plateau from where we would get amazing views over the plains below.  At the foot of the mountain we were a bit sidetracked by two shy little deer that we followed into the dense bush for a photo shoot.  They blended into the woodland so well, only making themselves visible when they took off in fright as we approached them.  The birdlife in this area is also abundant and we flushed out some red billed francolins and spent about half an hour trying to photograph a pair of yellow-bellied eremomelas.  The Hartlaub’s francolin is found in this area, but unfortunately remained elusive on this trip.

The path up the mountain is quite steep and is mostly through shaded woodland with a carpet of dry leaves.  Quite near the top the trees thin out a bit and one catches glimpses of the vast expanse of land below.  On one of the rocks near the top we passed a plaque honouring a member of the Mountain Club who had lost his life in a rescue operation here many years before.  We later heard from a former member of the Mountain Club that he had plunged to his death when he stepped on a tuft of grass at the side of the cliff which gave way underneath him.

On the path

It was a bit disappointing to reach the rocky outcrop at the top of the cliff and to find that we weren’t allowed to go any further without a guide and a permit.  The plateau at the top is home to many dangerous wild animals, including white rhinos, buffalo and leopards, so it is understandable that they want to protect both the visitors and the animals.  We sat for a long time looking out over the plains below us, their natural beauty marred somewhat by the dirt roads that cross-crossed them.  Occasionally in the distance we saw a cloud of dust raised by a passing car.  It was very peaceful up there, but we didn’t linger too long as we wanted to explore the area at the bottom.

Our bird watching was very productive as we saw a pair of groundscraper thrushes near the chalets.  Continuing on towards the little German cemetery we photographed Ruppell’s Parrots and a Purple Roller.  By mid-morning the heat was starting to take its toll on me and I had to leave Rob to wander through the bush on his own while I took shelter in the campsite under the shady trees with a good book.  The squirrels and birds around the campsite were a pleasurable distraction.

Ruppell's parrot

Eventually even Rob couldn’t tolerate the heat anymore and we settled down to a siesta until the sun disappeared behind the mountains.  This is always my favourite time of the day as the sting has been taken out of the heat and the birds reappear as if to make the most of the last hour or so of daylight.

By the time we arrived back a big bus carrying students from the Namibian PolyTech had pulled in and unfortunately ruined the peace and quiet with their loud music and partying.  I’m sure that we weren’t alone in wishing that they had allowed us a quiet evening out in nature.  We sometimes feel that people lose the plot when it comes to weekends away in the bush – if they want to party and listen to loud music they should do it at home or at discos, not in places where others are trying to get away from these very noises to listen to natures night sounds.

In spite of our rowdy neighbours, the weekend was considered a great success and we thoroughly enjoyed our stay at Waterberg.  Our biggest regret was not booking a hike at the top of the plateau, but then again, it gave us a good excuse to go back another time.

When you think back over your life, who are the folks that you remember most? It’s not the quiet peaceful guys that stand out in your mind but those unconventional people who did extraordinary things, drove you mad, or made you laugh. It’s these delicious characters who make life colourful and its always a delight to come across them. You’ve probably met quite a few in your lifetime and no doubt they will spring to mind when you read this. Perhaps you’re even one of them! If so, good for you.

My own family has been blessed with crazy souls – I remember my eighty year old father-in-law replacing the entire roof of his house without any help whatsoever. This was an amazing feat for an octogenarian, but sometimes his enthusiasm for the job was so overwhelming that he forgot to dress appropriately and on at least three occasions he was caught working in his slippers which didn’t give him any grip on the slanting roof.  His craziness wasn’t limited to fixing roofs in his eighties, but we won’t go there right now.

You have to be a bit weird to ride a bicycle across continents don’t you think. I have to admit that being married to someone who does this occasionally makes for an interesting life. We met an Australian male nurse one Christmas and told him that Rob had ridden across Australia in just twenty-eight days (see account of this trip and others under his Cycling page on this site) but this gentleman was totally unimpressed, telling us that he had ridden around the whole perimeter of Australia on a horse. Well not exactly one horse – it had taken him four years and numerous horses to make this incredible journey. His hobby was to go around the world and join in re-enactments of cavalry charges of famous battles. I just love these people who travel the road less ordinary.

I could go on about eccentrics and achievers we know, but let me tell you that unusual behaviour is not limited to homo-sapiens. We’ve seen quite a few animals that defy typical behaviour for their species.

Some people take domestication of animals to extremes. We came across this goat at the same place where we met the Australian horseman and were amazed at how this animal was addicted to TV. According to his owner he loved watching sport and would sit on the couch for hours glued to the telly. However, if they changed channels to SkyNews, it would really get his goat (sorry about that) and he would promptly drop off to sleep. This same household also had a beautiful otter as a pet, but it’s toilet training left a lot to be desired. 

Oh no! Not SkyNews again!

We spent last Christmas at a farm in Namibia called Namibgrens and here we came across a tame baboon that had been hand-reared by the farmer when its mother was killed accidentally. Bobby was a real character because he grew up with a herd of goats and didn’t realize that he wasn’t one himself. He spends his days harassing the goats on the farm to such an extent that one has to feel quite sorry for them. Bobby’s fame spread far and wide when he captured the imagination of the editor of a magazine called Drive Out and featured in a little write up on the leader page.  

Bobby thinks he's a goat

At Roys Camp near Grootfontein we were preparing a New Year’s Eve braai when an Eland walked into our campsite and helped itself to half a loaf of bread on the table. Once it had finished eating it came and said hello before disappearing into the bushes. We were left wondering what his story was.  

Rob and the Eland

At most of the campsites we visit we usually find hungry cats and always put milk out for them. They are mostly wild and very timid. However, at Harnass, a wildlife rehabilitation centre on the eastern side of Namibia, we were visited by an enormous ginger cat and his companion, a mongoose. What an unlikely friendship.

Strange friends

If you spot warthogs in the wild they usually run off at great speed with their tails straight up in the air. At the Chobe Safari Lodge campsite in the Caprivi, we were a little intimidated when an enormous warthog came into our space. We needn’t have worried though, as he turned out to be quite docile with a penchant for Romany Cream biscuits!

Warthog at Chobe

Even birds sometimes show their little characters in delightful ways. This crow at Sossusvlei caused much amusement in our party when he aggressively jostled with the bulbuls and sparrows for bread. He didn’t eat it however, but buried it all around the area to dig up at a later stage. I guess that is a survival thing in the desert. We had to hang onto our food as he was quite prepared to grab it off the table in front of us. 

Bread thieving crow

And lastly, this sweet little Trac Trac Chat greeted us on arrival at the Moon Landscape near Swakopmund and followed us around as we checked out the scenery. He was no slouch as can be seen from his dead straight back. I immediately stood more erect in his presence! He so impressed our party that  my brother Vaughan and Mary made up a limerick about him on our drive home.  (This is an abridged version!   Note:  Vaughan and Mary join our list of weird and wonderful people as they make up limericks about everything in sight)

The chat is a quaint little bird
Who lives in a place quite absurd
With just desert and sand
And no food right on hand
He’s thinking of moving, we’ve heard 

Welcoming Trac Trac Chat

These wonderful encounters, both human and animal, make life so interesting and I can’t wait to see who or what will be next to enrich our lives.