Coddiwomplers

Namibian Wanderers

Coddiwomple means to travel purposefully towards an unknown destination.

In plain terms: you set off with intent, but you’re not obsessing over every detail. You know roughly where you’re going, but you’re happy to see how the journey unfolds.

Not aimless wandering.

Not rigid planning.

Somewhere comfortably in between.

↑↑This is exactly how we traveled and I love the term.

I want to make sure that I tell my story of our African journey. I want to remember the smells and the sounds, the smiles and the uncomfortableness. I forget and rush to get through a portion to write because, in 2 months, there was just so much. I know people have subscribed to Nothing to See Here back in the day when I was writing more current event takes or WTF articles about our food and all the things.

I have made a deliberate decision to slow down and tell you about the most amazing trip that was 2 months long. We have had a life time of ‘once in a lifetime’ trips, that is for sure. Most people ascribe to ONE of our trips as a one and fulfilled. Since we started our life together living in the UK, it gave us proximity to great and easy travel, cheap flights or a trip across the channel to ‘the continent’ on a ferry. It reminds me of a time…

I traveled back and forth from San Francisco to London on Pan Am in the 80’s. When there was a smoking section. That was the most ridiculous thing ever. “Would you like smoking or non-smoking?”

The 2 sections would be separated by a yellow tar stained curtain. And…after your 10 hour flight, you all exited the plane smelling like a dive bar ashtray, overflowing with Marlboro Reds and cheap perfume. One particularly humiliating trip included The Toilet Incident. I was wearing a brand new jumpsuit of hideousness. Remember those, ladies?? Ghastly. A long pant version of a Onesie. So dumb. Anywho- when nature called I had to answer. And, unbeknownst to me, my bathroom door did not lock securely. So, as I take my whole outfit down to my ankles and have a seat and start to do the thing in the bathroom for ants, the door forcefully opens and a gorgeous well-dressed silver-fox stood looking at me. I was sitting in the airplane loo, in nothing basically but my well worn, tired, utilitarian grandma Playtex bra. That stupidest of all stupid jump suits was cowering in a sad heap around my stylish ankle boots, along with what may or may not have been giant but travel comfortable granny-panties. Granted, it was a much younger version of myself, but I am sure we both came away with scars from that encounter. I did the walk of shame back to my seat through a smoke filled cabin, that in this decade would trigger Emergency Response teams and the dropping of masks from the overhead.

The jumpsuit was never worn again.

That was SO off point and way off track. And I don’t know why I told you that story from many years ago. Sorry kids.

The Sand Bowl-Expedition No Regrets

As we left the diamond mines of Luderitz, Namibia behind us, we made our way back to the east. I have to look back over our Telegram chat to remember what we did, because every day was something new. (If you are a new subscriber, I urge you to go back a few posts and start at the beginning of our trip)

We were headed to a special campsite (or so Hubs told me). Along the way we decided to take the D roads and we were NOT sorry. They were so scenic and Namibia was greener than it had been in decades due to all the rain. We added our travel-mark.

Not me.

And, along this Deserted road we saw a little lady in a caravan (travel trailer) selling a cuppa. Her farm house was well back from the road but her caravan was turned into a place to sell her homemade doilies and biscuits (cookies). Did you know doilies were made to go ON TOP of your cups? They are not coasters! Wow. Mind blown. She had lived there for over 50 years and they ran a cattle farm. We bought a coffee and cake and sat along a dirt road in Africa and talked to her. She was the sweetest thing.

And then we set off for our camp for the night. With a 15 dollar doily. No shit. But it was worth the drive-by and reverse to visit Mrs. Fick.

The red sand of the Namib Desert took on a green tint as we overtook the area that was the welcome recipient of all the recent rainfall. Farther and farther we drove without seeing any cars. How could a country so big have so little traffic?

Hubs was hemming and hawing about his google maps and the spot where we were supposed to camp. I let him make all the arrangements for all of it. “Surprise me!” I said. “I trust you!” I said. He should know me after almost 40 years of marriage, right? And then:

~insert ♫♪♫♪ here~

I am not gonna lie. As we pulled into a farm some hours later, I was like “no no no. I am not staying at this place.” The yard was full of cars and tractors and the house had seen better days. I am thinking hubs was probably saving a few dollars by booking us into a bogus “farmstay” on some dude’s spare cot in the extra room that his grandpa might or might not have died in. Just NOOOOOO. As I sit in the farmyard, looking around at all the broken machinery with dread, he goes around the house and comes out a few minutes later with a guy.

I feel a flood of relief when he doesn’t give me The Hand Signal to COME ON IN. Thank you, Jesus. Yes, I literally thanked God. I am just that shallow. The ‘guy’ hops in an old Toyota and motions us to follow him to the campsite. Video of the trek follows. Yes, that is MY narration.

And the arrival, about 4 miles off the main road:

Now, this campsite might not look like much. But it was the most spectacular one we had, hands down. I called it The Sand Bowl. No light pollution and no other campsites. We were the only ones for miles. Namibia does have leopards, but not around this area. They prefer cover. There were warnings about snakes and scorpions and of course, there were spiders. There was a plastic cover on the toilet, but the place had solar everything, even a shower and hot water. And the show as the sun went down was a gift from God, along with the night sky. There are no words to describe how small we felt, how insignificant and how blessed we were- all at the same time. Pictures and videos do not do it justice. Bear in mind, these photos have not been retouched. I do not know why the African sunsets are so amazing, but they are.

Even the beetles are just extraordinary.

Off the ground is always better in Namibia. Me and an African Coke

I am positive I was rooting around looking for some of my shit in the truck. As usual.

The sun was starting to set

The next morning. Look at all the little tracks.

We saw The Southern Cross, because I am an astronomer and it was super easy to find. NOT! But, remember the days when you could look at the night sky and see more falling/shooting stars than satellites?? Not anymore. The satellites go in all directions now too. Not a fan of those in my night sky. Just when you look up and start to soak up the feeling of the infinite greatness of The Creator’s creation, along comes a man-made projectile shooting through the heavens at thousands of miles an hour to spoil the moment. But, the wonder always won. Always. The gratification was in the struggle to focus on the magic and being content with being small and not knowing every thing there is to know about all of it.

I am to the end of my recollections to you now and will sign off, with love.

Sadie