Out of the desert, into Germany

Our desert stay over, we set off on the five hour drive to Swakopmund – Namibia’s famed seaside resort.

The drive was sweltering – through desert, after desert, after desert. It turns out, the majority of Namibia is a desert. Beautiful, but boiling, and so, so empty. We didn’t see another car for most of our journey, and for that matter, we didn’t really even see any animals. We may as well have been on the moon, for how deserted the landscape was.

After five hours, a signpost suddenly told us Swakopmund was in 4 kilometres.  Still in the desert among rolling dunes, it was difficult to imagine a seaside resort was round the corner.

And yet there it was, we soon pulled onto tarmac roads, wide streets with lovely architecture, and the smell of the sea wafting around us.

We checked into a small B&B with a very friendly host, right on the waterfront.

This post won’t be long, as to be honest we didn’t do anything of note in Swakopmund. Being back in a town, we spent most of our 2 days there working, and in our spare time we wandered on the seafront, and explored the beautiful buildings in town – colourful, chocolate box houses reminiscent of Europe… and that’s not all that reminded us of Europe.

As it turns out, Swakopmund is a piece of Germany in Africa. Everyone speaks in German – the purest German I have heard, well, since being in Germany last -, all the bookshops sell German books, the restaurants serve beer and bratwurst.

I cannot describe the shock to the system, of going from African desert camping, to being in a fully functioning, typically clean, cheerful German town.

To top it off, our evenings were even completed with a trip to the local Brauhaus for beers, served up by stereotypically cheery German barmaids.

I’ll finish there, leaving you as mindboggled by the concept as I am… still.


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