We get back from Sossusvlei and it’s dark af when we get to the camping area to find our spot. Campsite 6, where the hell are you? I hop out to scout the area with my phone flashlight. A layout pattern doesn’t present itself. Peter drives down the back and comes around, “Find it?”, “Nope”, “Hmmmm.” People are set up for the night and kicking back by their fires, I don’t really want to be bothering them with the headlights doing figure eights around the camp trying to find the spot. A few laps around the unoccupied sites and we finally find it.
Then we get the truck stuck in a deep sand trap. 4 low? Nope. Stuck. Wow. “This is a foreshadowing of us in the Kalahari”, “Seriously.” We find some rocks around the camp and jam them under the tires to get Belinda out.
Well now we’re over by the water so might as well fill up. Except we don’t have a nozzle that fits this tap. Really. Nope, none of the attachments in the truck work. Man, we’re building a comedy of errors tonight. We take turns holding the hose to the faucet and manage to get the tank filled while only minorly soaking ourselves in the process.
We also all earn a few cuts from this insanely spiky tree growing right by the water pipe. Crazy sharp spikes jutting out from the darkness and our arms get fresh scrapes trying to fill up. “Why would they put the tap under this death trap?”
We get camp set up a bit and decide to see what’s going on back at the bar. Still early.
We walk in and the place is mainly large groups sitting at the long tables for dinner. No one is occupying the bar so we post up and correct that situation. There’s a new bartender here now and he’s glowing smiles. We get a round of beers and chat him up a bit. His name is Jeffert, he asks where we’re all from so we return the question,”My mom is from Angola and dad from Namibia. So I’m from Namibia.” He tells us that it hadn’t rained here for 11 years but they finally got some rain this year. Some kids in the area grew up never seeing rain once in their lives. Crazy.
“How late is the bar open?”, “I’m open until 10. But if you guys hang out with me, I’m open until 12!” Haha, good man. He points to the outdoor seating area. Whoa, there’s an Oryx walking right through where we were having espressos earlier. “Happens all the time.”
We figure we’ll save the food we have for Etosha and just eat here at the restaurant tonight. Tables are full inside so we go out to the Oryx-crossing tables. They bring a menu. “What’s the ‘game steak’?”, “Oryx”, well I guess that makes sense. Quick look around the group confirms what I’d thought, “Four of those, please.”
The server returns a minute later to say that they’re out of the Oryx. Well I guess that also makes sense. I go for the T-bone instead. Our server brings a round of beers and we get to talking. He’s worked here for three years. Just in the busy season. His family lives is in Germany and he lives in Munich half the time. “So I’m guessing you’ve been to Oktoberfest?”, “Oh, of course. haha.” We swap stories for a bit.
T-bone comes out and.. it sucks lol. But while we’re eating another Oryx walks right passed us. So cool. Love the long horns shooting straight behind them. These guys don’t care at all. There’s another one wandering over by our camp, “That could be elephants in a couple days”, “Oh man, that’d be great.”
We pay up on our weaksteaks and get back to camp. Grab the underburgs we picked up in Aus for a little digestif and pull out the gin for some negronis. Getting low on Campari. That might be a tough find round these parts.
While we love Belinda to death, we start talking about some easy upgrades for the truck. Could fob the whole thing for easy in and out of each compartment. Swap the useless rear view mirror for a cam. Give it some more balls (although I think they probably don’t give out the V8 to tourists on purpose). Should come with a machete and axe as well. Other than that, she’s pretty near perfect.
A couple more drinks and we start hosting a talk show with a live studio audience. “There’s a pickle jar under your seats”, “You can eat it or start a pickle fight.” I dunno. Tired and silly.
One of the camp chairs has now been dubbed the fart chair. It’s hard to tell which of the four it’s gonna be when you set them up. They all look the same. But eventually everyone sits down and sure enough one of the chairs always sounds like you’ve let a giant ripper loose. It’s simple and stupid, but it makes us laugh every damn time.
There’s also a bird we keep hearing that makes a fun sound. Don’t know what it looks like, it’s always off in the distance somewhere. “It sounds like putting a wet foot into a wet sneaker.”
We’re on one tonight. Kinda sleepy though after all the driving and dune climbing. We talk about tomorrow’s plans. If we get up early we can do Deadvlei at sunrise then make our way to the capital, Windhoek. Yep, sounds deadly. Alright, time to drunk sleep in our clothes for the forth night in a row.