After the peaceful seclusion of Sterreprag, Sesriem campsite was quite a shock to the system. It is the hub for tour operators and overlanders…swarms of them. I felt my enochlophobia kick in. Mercifully, it was only for one night. There is an advantage to staying there, though- you get an hour’s head start to Sossusvlei in the morning, so you can climb the dunes at sunrise before the hordes descend- or ascend in this case.
Going down was much easier:
After emptying a dune of sand from our shoes, we packed up and headed for Swakopmund. There was an essential pit stop in Solitaire for their apparently world-renowned apple tart. Clearly apple tart is a big thing in this neck of the woods – a delicious cultural remnant of German colonisation.
And then the bone-shattering journey began…200 km short of Swakopmund we heard a strange sound and our hearts sank. Yep, another puncture. And so, in the searing heat and dust, we unpacked (yet again) the contents of the boot in order to access the spanner and the high lift jack.
All was going swimmingly at first…
…but then we hit a snag: the jack would not release. So there we stood, with the Jeep cocking its hind wheel in the air in an undignified fashion, trying to figure out the mechanics of the jack. Why wouldn’t it release, dammit? What to do, what to do? I suggested we “call a friend”. We phoned Stew. Ai, die ou ballies! All to no avail – no amount of cranking and fiddling would budge the stupid thing. Then, enter Hulk Hogan and Helga: two well-meaning but equally clueless German tourists, who stopped to try and assist us. I thought that he should just lift the car for us, but was hesitant to ask.
The next dramatis personae to enter the comic drama were a local sheep farmer and his dog. He took a look but also stood scratching his head.
Eventually, we used a regular scissor jack to release the high lift jack, and we were finally able to change the wheel. And so, after much dust, sweat and gevloek, we were on our way again.
Southern Safari 2 