After all the emotions that the immersion in the desert provides, we take the road again towards the north. Stop at Solitaire, an unusual place at the crossroads of two tracks, populated by wrecked cars and rusty gas pumps, whose grocery store is renowned for serving “best Apfelstrudel in Namibia”. A kind of Baghdad Cafe which makes desert crossings comforting. Further, we can not help but appear next to the panel “Tropic of Capricorn” located between two passes. This imaginary line gives us the feeling of living a motorcycle navigation.
The crossing of large Namibian spaces imposes on us long rectilinear portions. It’s not what I prefer. But the landscapes are so grandiose and changing that I am ready to drive for hours on this track running towards the coast.
Isolated by the Namib Desert, Walvis Bay, the “whale bay” in Afrikaans, is a port city strategically located on the Atlantic coast. We are a stone’s throw south of the famous Skeleton Coast and its immense desolate expanses where a few wrecks tell the story of the first explorers and where the carcasses of cetaceans bear witness to the epic of whalers and the dramas of nature. The Benguela, this cold current coming from Antarctica, makes Namibian waters particularly rich in fish. And cold.
Flamingos, pelicans and cormorants
It was the Portuguese explorer Bartolomeu Dias who discovered the bay in 1487, when he was trying to circumnavigate Africa to make his way to Asia. The English were the first to plant their flag here at the end of the 19th century in order to counter German ambitions in the region. Then Walvis Bay became a South African territory until 1994. Today, the city is home to around 60,000 inhabitants whose activities are mainly linked to the commercial port, fishing and saltworks. Its port, largely financed by China (it is on their strategic plan for the new silk roads), is equipped with a new terminal capable of accommodating 750,000 containers per year!
On one side, the industrial port and, on the other, brand new residential areas, lined with tall palm trees that extend near a large lagoon, home to many flamingos, pelicans and cormorants. We see advertisements to go on a catamaran at sunset to meet the dolphins, whales and sea lions living in the cold waters around the Pelican Point lighthouse.
Travelers usually stay in the small tourist town of Swakopmund, nicknamed Swakop, a small piece of Germany at the end of the world that offers a whole lot of activities and comfort for the western traveler. You can even immortalize an incongruous moment: eating sauerkraut in a typical Bavarian brasserie on the Namibian coast. Others pass through Walvis Bay on their way to Sandwich Harbour, where the wild marine elements give way to huge coastal dunes heralding the Namib Desert. And where tourists come to have fun in 4x4s in the sand.
Traveling by motorbike breaks the moorings of habit and thwarts anchorage. But in an instant it is very easy to recreate an earthling routine. Nothing is easier than putting down your bag. We choose to sleep in a guest house in order to meet a resident of Walvis Bay and have human interaction in this sparsely populated country.
Meet a chilling host
We disembark for two nights at the home of a very tall fellow from Germany, approaching his fifties. He welcomes us to his huge house filled with African art and trophies and relics of dead animals. He is so tall that he struggles to fit through the doors of his house. He seems to lead a calm and happy life in this neat little pavilion of a seaside resort that looks like a frozen movie set. He seems to relish the comfort of his model habitat, with an unfailing good humor and a mechanical smile.
Totally uninhibited, the one who will be nicknamed Dexter, immediately announces the color to us: “I am a hunter, I have a farm in the north of the country where I often go on weekends. ” Quickly, his speech is tinged with hostile thoughts towards the black community. In the process, he admits to us that he went to steal whale bones from a corpse recently washed up on the coast, to decorate his garden. Dexter is chilling.
Sometimes, when traveling, the change of scenery is such that we forget certain realities. They then jump right in your face. It takes a step back not to react on the blow of emotion. And try to understand. Why ? How ? Without answers to our questions, we go back to see the flamingos in front of the lagoon next door. In silence, with only the whistling of the wind.