Spitzkoppe – Swakopmund

7/9/19

After another night listening to elephants making noise all night long, we woke up almost refreshed and left the campsite at 7:00, when the gates opened. We drove through the park without seeing anything special, and soon enough we were back on the main road heading to Spitzkoppe.

On the way there, we stopped for a quick shopping break to pick up snacks and drinks as our campsite tonight would have no facilities at all. A little further up, we made another stop for lunch where I proceeded to finish off the crepes Justin had made for breakfast. Too much Nutella never hurt anyone…

The early afternoon was insanely hot once again. Between the super crowded bus, the sun coming in through the windows, and the water turning hot, the rest of the drive was thoroughly unpleasant. We finally made it to the entrance of the main campsite area where we stopped for a quick toilet break – the last nice toilets for 24 hours – while Justin signed us in.

We then drove another couple of kilometres into the camp area to a desolate place with nothing resembling human interaction other than a hut with some pit latrines. We hopped out of the truck in the middle of the desert, surrounded by some stunning rock formations all around us. No time to waste, we started to walk off to one of the rocks in the distance.

There we met our local guide who was showing us the rock paintings found on this particular rock. The paintings are only about 2000-4000 years old, so nothing to compare to the ones I was used to in France, but they were much clearer because of it. A couple of people hunting, a lion, elephant, giraffe and even an ostrich, and an incredibly well detailed rhinoceros.

Our Little Rock painting tour finished, we walked back to our truck to sit in the shade for a little while and get a drink that was more or less cold. Around 18:30, all our group except Sarah and I went up to climb the big rock we were parked in front of to go see the sunset from the very top. The 2 of us decided however that given we didn’t have any shower options here, it wasn’t worth climbing a rock in the sweltering heat and sun.

Instead, we pitched up our tent as aa backup scenario. The plan for the night was to camp out under the stars on top of one of the rocks in front. But as I expected it would get a bit cold during the night, Sarah and I figured it couldn’t hurt to have the tent pitched up already in case we gave up halfway through the night.

We had our dinner ready around 20:00, as the wind started to pick up a little bit. But it wasn’t quite cold yet so the plan to sleep on top of the rocks was going ahead. A couple of people also put up their backup tents, but the majority had decided to just hold it out for the night.

I went up in 2 trips, starting with mats for Sarah and I, and then followed by the sleeping bag/pillow/blanket combination. We split up into 2 groups on 2 separate rocks, leaving the full 8 of us doing the full tour on our own little bit of rock, along with Katie whom we decided to adopt into our close-knit group in Livingstone. The area we picked was in front of a cave area, but unfortunately it was too steep to sleep on. Instead we selected the dried up river bed, and enjoyed the stars before a nice outdoor sleep.

8/9/19

Well that was a royally bad idea! When we had set up our beds, it was only mildly windy, just like a soft fan above our heads. As the night went ahead however, the wind got stronger and stronger. At one point we realised each one of us was turning around and therefore was awake, so we started to discuss just how strong the bloody wind was.

Out of nowhere, I see a blanket fly off, followed by a pillow, followed by Kerrianne legging it behind the items trying to catch up to her pillow. Then suddenly another pillow flies off, which I managed to catch mid-air, and I see Mark come running after it. He grabs the pillow, and then started to chase after his mattress which had then flown off. Lizzy was in hysterics, and quite honestly so were the rest of us.

Thankfully it wasn’t too cold contrary to my expectations, but I still undertook the next level of human cocoon to facilitate sleep: human larvae. This time I slid as far into the sleeping bag as I could – gripping on to my pillow in the process – and wrapped myself in my blanket. Then I pulled the pillow in as much as possible, tried to hook the opening of the sleeping bag under the pillow, and somehow it helped. Though the wind was still blowing into the sleeping bag and the blanket every time I tried to turn.

We woke up several times during the night of course, often bursting out laughing as the wind only kept getting stronger and stronger. My only movements were limited sticking a hand out of the sleeping bag occasionally to check that my jumper, shoes and water bottle were still there. The rest of the time, it was like having a tent folded on top of my head. And the worst part was that as much as I would have wanted to go back to our tent, I was sure I wouldn’t make it down the slope with all my stuff with this wind.

When my alarm eventually went off at 5:45, it scared the life out of me, and managing to get out of the sleeping bag enough to dig out my phone was a real challenge. The wind was still howling just as strong as before unfortunately, so it was clear the walk down would in fact be as difficult as predicted. As was the process of packing up all our stuff and trying to put shoes on to walk down – all except Kerrianne who had lost one of her sneakers in the blanket/pillow fiasco around 1:00 in the morning!

As I begun trying to fold my blanket while still sitting on the sleeping bag and pillow, I suddenly got wacked in the head by a flying mat. I looked up and saw Brenton running like mad after his mattress until eventually he had to give it up and return empty handed. That was enough for me to decide not to risk it. So instead of wasting my time trying to fold my sleeping bag up, I grabbed all my items, threw them into the sleeping bag which I then launched onto my shoulder, keeping the mattress firmly in the other hand. And that’s the story of how I walked down a rock in almost pitch black darkness, getting pushed around by wind and looking like Santa Claus with his sack!

But that’s not where the party ends! Once back down the rock, the sight in front of us was complete chaos. Turns out the wind at the bottom of the rock was almost as strong as on top, and the tents did not enjoy that! Luckily, Max and Nora had given up on trying to sleep around midnight and headed down to their tent. Just in time to catch the other tents flying around. With Justin’s help, they took down the tents and threw some chairs over the top to keep them there.

Around 4:00 apparently, Michael had given up and, armed with nothing but 2 blankets, had climbed back down. Once at the bottom, he had tried to re-pitch our tent to crash in there, but quickly gave up and moved to the truck. All of our stuff which we had left in the tent however had gone all over the floor. I went tent diving to try to get everything out – hopefully my toothbrush is still somewhere in there! But good news: the runaway mattress and lone shoe were found stuck against a tree in front of the truck!

Justin was setting up breakfast as we were trying to pack up our tents. We tried to convince him to drop the idea, since most of us had gotten little to no sleep and were feeling pretty crap, but he pushed through. Nevertheless, we managed to leave before 7:00 and were out cold for the entire drive to Swakopmund.

We made it to our hotel from at 9:00, and to our delight we were given a massive dorm room to fit the whole group. With a few people leaving us I Swakopmund and a few more upgrading, the 24-bed down was given to only about 11 of us, making it nice and spacious. There will be some pretty solid bag repacking going on in here!

A few of us quickly showered and we met back up to have eggs and bacon with Justin – nothing better than second breakfast! Afterwards, we sat in the bar area and got the full speech and video on the multitude of activities we could sign up for during our 2-night stay in town.

A few days ago, while discussing some of these options in advance with the tour guys, I had been convinced of giving into peer pressure for the dumbest idea yet. And the lack of sleep did not help in making a sane decision either. So less than an hour after the talk, there I was, signing a bunch of disclaimer form and getting in a van with 9 others on tour to go do yet another dumb thing on this trip: skydiving!

We drove about 20 minutes out of town to reach the skydiving base. There Frank, one of the main instructors, gave us a brief introduction and safety briefing, reminding us that we would need to be comfortable with sharing our “personal bubble” with one of the instructors. So basically if you’re not comfortable with sitting on a stranger’s lap, maybe sit this one out!

The plane could only hold about 3 jumpers with their instructor and cameraman each. So we were taken up in turns, based on height and weight. Which meant I was left to the last plane ride with Vincent and another tourist. As the last group was up in the air, we were called up to gear up, and that’s when the nerves – which had been steadily building until now – really started to kick in. I was nervously dancing around to the songs in the background, and even more nervously watching the plane very high up in the air suddenly dropping 2 small dots all the way up there only to finally open a parachute and land safely and happily.

The speed of turnover was incredible. Frank did every single jumping round, with barely enough time to use the bathroom in between. He just walked off the plane, handed his parachute bag to the colleagues, walked into the hut to pick up a new bag and name of the next guy, then walked back out to find his jumper and dragged him back into the plane.

Before I knew it, out came Jack smiling at me, shaking my hand, and taking me to the plane. Holy shit I was shaking so much. The plane was a beautiful yellow with fire painted all over it and a phoenix on the tail – the bird that is literally famous for dying and resuscitating, great choice… But no seats. No seatbelts. And seriously dodgy looking doors. Nothing to inspire me.

Jack sat in the far corner of the plane, then sat me I front between his legs. Then in came Frank, who came in and sat between my own legs with Vincent in front of him. Parachute bags are large and not comfortable when stuffed into your crotch! So with a small dose of banter about getting to know a guy before spreading my legs, in came the next instructor with his tourist, our camera guys sitting at the back of the plane, and we were off.

Taking off when sitting backwards is definitely a weird feeling. And doing so without seats was more than a little unnerving. But the instructors definitely didn’t give a crap. One pulled out his kindle and started to read, another started texting on his phone while a third was playing a racing game. Chilled as they were, I was the complete opposite: legs shaking, fingers tapping against the knees, and occasionally exchanging glances of pure dread with Vincent in front of me.

At one stage, the other tourist turned to me and with a big smile told me we were halfway to his jumping height, and mine would be 3 times our current altitude. Given I had been looking out the window thinking “Oh shit we are so high up!”, this latest piece of information only made me freak out even more.

Before long, the pilot and instructors started making hand signals to each other, which I understood meant something along the lines of “5 minutes before you throw this idiot out the door”. His instructor started to get him ready, and all too soon the door was opened in mid-air. I genuinely squealed as this guy whom I had never met before suddenly fell out of an airplane at 10,000 feet of altitude. What kind of a sick idiot jumps out of a plane?!

At this point I am still not attached to anything or anyone, staring out the door into absolute nothing (except the ground all the way down there). My instructor sees me squirm and says “no, no, we are staying here”, to which I replied: “yes! Yes very good idea, let’s stay here!”. That made him laugh of course… They then shut the door, Frank and Vincent sitting in front of me moved up to sit where the other guy had just been, and up we went again.

When the hand signals started up again, Frank handed his kindle back to the pilot and my nervousness levels on a scale from 1-10 were probably at about a 12! We were asked to sit on our instructors’ laps while they hooked us up. I watched intently as Frank attached Vincent to every possible harness, knowing that behind me Jack would be doing the same thing.

With one minute to go, at least Vincent was starting to look a bit nervous as well! His camera guy got into position, then the door was opened again. How were we so freaking high up?! I stared in absolute horror as Frank went to sit on the edge of the plane, dangling Vincent out of the plane completely like a human bum-bag – thanks Lizzy for the perfect analogy.

And then the camera guy launched out followed by Frank pushing off the edge and taking my friend out with him. Much like with the bungee jump, I think the worst sensation – retrospectively – is not the jump itself but watching someone you know leap off a plane (or bridge) to their certain death. As I sat there horrified at the loss of a dear companion, I wasn’t given much time to contemplate as already my own camera guy was moving to the outer part of the plane, and my little bum-bag self was being edged towards it too!

Within seconds, I was completely in the air, with my legs bent backwards UNDER the plane! Deep breaths, deep breaths! At 15,000 feet (about 5km for metric people), I could see nothing and no shapes, only sand and desert. And that’s not good! Jack pulled my head backwards and told me to open my eyes, because obviously I had them shut by this point! Then he rocks me forward once or twice, and before I knew it, I realised the camera guy was still facing me but not holding on to the plane anymore. Which could only mean one thing.

So there I was, plummeting to my death. I looked out and could see the plane just there getting rapidly smaller. So obviously I did the only thing I could do: Aaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggghhhhhh!!!!!! For about 3 seconds or so. Until my brain recalibrated and realised I was facing a 60 second free-fall, so realistically there was time before I crashed into the ground, so might as well save my breath and enjoy the ride.

From there, it was an absolutely incredible feeling. It didn’t really fell like falling more just like a super powered fan blowing at me, while the ground – still oh so far away – slowly became more detailed and clear. My camera guy was just smiling at me, showing me to blow kisses at the camera, and even to try to “swim” in mid-air. Breaststroke in the air. Yep. What an idiot.

Then the camera guy pushed away a little bit, and the next thing I know we are spinning around! All I could see was nothing, nothing, camera guy, nothing, nothing, camera guy. And I was pretty sure I was going to throw up. Until he stopped the spinning. And then started spinning in the other direction. Enter the sudden desire to spew again.

But nothing happened except the sheer exhilaration of looking out to the floor spiralling to my death. Absolutely phenomenal. Although the falling felt like an eternity, and I soon became acutely aware of our lack of parachute. Which got me thinking I was really hoping it would come out sometime soon. Because the ground was definitely getting closer now.

To my delight, I watched my camera guy suddenly wave and disappear below us – and I had watched them all land before the jumpers at an insane speed, so I knew where he had gone. And then I felt a massive jolt from behind me, I was sprung into an upright position and my legs went flying above my head. The chute worked!!!

From here we glided down happily, chatting along the way – nice guy Jack! I could see another parachute further down below which could only mean that Vincent had survived his jump as well and was heading to the floor gracefully. When it was our turn to finish our decent, I lifted my knees high into my chair – the complete opposite of a normal landing gear… – started kicking in mid-air when we approached the ground, and jack landed us with ease where I was able to put my feet down on solid ground.

As soon as I was unhooked, I did a bit of a happy dance and fist bump/high fives my crew guys before walking off back to my cheering group of friends. Although walking is probably not the right word, more like shakily zigzagging towards them given the ground was still moving and every muscle in my body was shaking. They took my harness off, the jumpsuit went back, and I ran to the bar for a can of coke to get a much needed sugar rush.

As we waited for our USB’s to be ready with our jump photos and videos, our driver – Craig – decided we couldn’t wait empty handed. So he took us to the bar, told us the owner of our tour company is a good friend of his and that he was buying us a round of beers. Since we had met the guy in Livingstone, where he had told us he’d buy us a round but too late, we took him up on the offer to put it on his tab and said to tell him it was to make up for taking Pete and Francis away from us – he’ll know what it means!

Once we were back at the hotel/dorm area, it was time for the second run of the big show. One after the other we plugged in our USB’s to the big TV in the bar area and watched in horror as each of us jumped out and fell for an interminably long amount of time. With that done and dusted, we got changed and headed out to dinner by the waterfront.

A few of our newcomers were finishing here in Swakopmund, so we had agreed to go to dinner the whole group together. The place looked a lot fancier than we had expected, but to our relief the prices were manageable and we enjoyed a nice German dinner – everything here is German! It was a freezing walk back to the accommodation but we barely felt the cold given how exhausted we were. The lack of sleep last night and the crazy day we’d just had meant we were all fast asleep well before hitting the pillow.