FROM MY LIFE
Those Long Drives From South Africa To Namibia
I left many footprints in Namibia during our family vacations
If there’s one thing my parents gave me and I could never give my children, it’s family vacations.
I grew up in South Africa, except for four of my childhood years, which were spent in Namibia, which back then was still South West Africa. While living in South Africa, Namibia was our go-to place for family vacations.
I was almost 11 when we moved to Namibia, and I remember at least two vacations to Namibia before then, and one after we had moved back to South Africa. I fell pregnant after that one, which abruptly stopped all holidays, probably because my parents had one more mouth to feed.
But, back to those family vacations, and the snippets of memories I have. They are not in order, but definitely the fondest memories I have.
Tom Jones, Upington and brown water
The music of Tom Jones — songs like What’s New, Pussycat? and Delilah — always spark the same memories. They remind me of mornings when my parents woke us at three, bundled us into the yellow VW Combi, and I could look out the window from my lying position, see the clouds, and know: the vacation has started.
Those first hours we slept, but as the day broke, my brother and I sat up and we read or colored or just looked out the window, each on our own bench. My parents were clever like that, keeping us apart so we could each do our own thing. It kept us from fighting for sure.
Once we were awake, they played music. Elvis, Engelbert Humperdinck, Jim Reeves, and of course, Tom Jones. I loved singing along, especially to Tom Jones. And my parents snickered in the front (mom told me when I already was an adult), I twisted the lyrics to what I thought I heard!
Other memories that come to mind are driving through a flood in Namibia. This must’ve been 1976, and I remember being terrified of the muddy waters splattering all over the windscreen of my father’s mud-brown Ford Granada.
Upington was always our first stop — 761 kilometers from home — on our journey from South Africa to Namibia. We overnighted in a holiday park, and what I liked most about that was swimming after the sun had set. There was something magic about the lights being on in the pool, and the water feeling warm despite the cool evening air.
Tropic of Capricorn and Rehoboth
The header image here shows the sign where the Tropic of Capricorn runs through Namibia.
The Tropic of Capricorn is the circle of latitude that contains the subsolar point at the December solstice. It is thus the southernmost latitude where the Sun can be seen directly overhead. It also reaches 90 degrees below the horizon at solar midnight on the June Solstice ~ Wikipedia
Every time we went on holiday we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn, but not before we stopped at this sign, and my parents took a couple of pictures. I know there’s a photo of me and my brother standing under that sign in our early 80s vacation clothes.
Our second overnighting was always on the road between Kalkrand and Rehoboth in Namibia. Actually, the spot might be more part of Rehoboth — a drive of 879km from Upington — than of Kalkrand. Throughout South Africa and Namibia, in random places, you find spots where you can park at the side of the road, complete with picnic tables.
There was such a spot just before you entered Rehoboth, bordered by a huge cliff. My parents would park under a tree, get the barbecue from the car, and prepare our meal. It was wonderful being out in nature like that, no lights, no people, just us.
We overnighted there, in the Combi, and continued our journey to Swakopmund the next day.
Swakopmund and ruby searching
I have so many good memories of Swakopmund. Our holidays there were magical. From walking on the beach between Swakopmund and Walvis Bay, digging up muscles, to swimming in the sea next to the jetty, staying in a holiday park, or camping somewhere next to the sea.
The holiday park we stayed in two years in a row was close to the sea, and we could go to the beach whenever we wanted. The minister from our church back home stayed in the same park, and sometimes when we visited them, we all played a card game. One of the most hilarious memories is while we played, it was quiet for some or other reason, and after a few seconds, the minister said, his finger pressed to his lips: “Quiet, the preacher is passing by!”
Then there was the ruby searching. There are roads around Swakopmund that are salt roads. They look like asphalt, but are ‘tarred’ with a mixture containing salt. I don’t know how my parents knew it, but next to such a road running from Swakopmund to Henties Bay was a salt pan and there you could find rubies. Tiny, tiny rubies. There’s a photo of me on my elbows and knees in such a salt pan, my bottom in the air, searching for rubies. Actually, recently during my decluttering, I came across the matchbox in which my mom had kept the rubies all these years.
Hardap Dam, Maltahöhe and crickets
Not all of our holiday trips took us to Swakopmund. Sometimes we stopped in the middle of the country to visit a sister of my father who lived in Maltahöhe. They had a house there, but also a karakul sheep farm about an hour’s drive from town.
I loved going out to the farm, being in nature, even though I always had earache after such a day. Not because of being out in nature, but sitting on the back of a bakkie, in the wind. I mostly wore a bonnet to cover my ears, but still cried from earache in the evenings. Even so, I was always the first to get on the bakkie when I knew my uncle and father were driving out to the farm.
On the farm I witnessed them slaughtering sheep, and we children stayed close to the farmhouse while my father and uncle drove out to shoot game — mostly springbok. Then, back at the house in Maltahöhe, the adults set about to process the meat, cutting steaks and chops from it, mincing meat, and also making sausages. Magical!
Mariental is about 100 kilometers from Maltahöhe and near to that is Hardap Dam, where we also spent one holiday. That always makes me think of Suzi Quatro.
She never takes a chance She doesn’t need romance. Her love is — rock hard - She never takes a chance.
I was fond of rock music from a younger age, and Suzi was one of my favorites. I walked between the houses in that park, tape recorder in hand, singing along to her music for everyone to hear. And, at Hardap Dam, I held a fishing rod in my hands for the very first time. A smaller version, well, because I was a kid. My father always put two hooks on the line, and I was the only one in our family who ever caught two fish at the same time. There’s a picture to prove this!
One year, on the road between Keetmanshoop and Mariental — a stretch of 233 kilometers of half desert — we saw a kind of black ‘wave’ cross the road. At first, it looked like some weird mirage, but it didn’t move away as we approached. Then we heard the first ‘pop’ under the car wheels, and another, and another, another, another! It turned out to be giant ‘crickets’, which in the country are called ‘Abraham Boeppens kriek’ (free translation: Abraham Potbelly crickets). They aren’t really crickets, but have a close resemblance, despite their size. These creatures eat themselves when needed!
Namibia holds so many magic childhood memories, and it’s a country I want to visit at least once more in my lifetime!
Thank you for taking this wonderful journey down memory lane with me!
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