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Sunday 3 August 2008

too short sojourn at Tsitsikamma

the trip nearly ends and despite all the gorgeous landscapes we saw for these almost 2 months, the insatiable desire to want more, to go and meet unknown lands is still itching. And during this African escapade, one of the elements we involuntarily disregarded was the hiking. Essential component to live at the pace of the nature and the people we meet on the way and we call out to share a slice of life.
The otter trail in the Tsitsikamma national park- a 5-day coastal trek – in some way gives us a few regrets. We only walk 3 hours on this track and feel the urge to go more ahead. In the ocean, down below, a colony of dolphins play with the shapely waves. Rare appearances of humpback whales force the stop ; we admire their mighty jets of water which split the surface. They go back and forth with caring little about the onlookers sitting on the rocks. Onlookers we'll remain until we're back at the car park.

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After the coastal landscapes, we head for the Bloukrans bridge. An ordinary bridge thousands of vehicles take every day. But underneath the road activity, between 2 blocks of reinforced concrete, the bridge has its hour of glory. A world title at stake, the one of highest bungy jump in the world. 216 m of pure adrenalin.
The approach, with the sensation to have the feet in space, depicts the background. Then we arrive on a large concreted platform. Guardrails surround all the area except in one place... Shortcut to join the bottom of the valley. The wait seems interminable and somehow stressful looking at the face of the other harness-equipped mad people. That's my turn. The staff kits me out and put me at the edge of the parapet, with the toes beyond. It's high... Very high. Masochistic feeling of paying too much to be in this awkward position. The arms held-out, short of breath and the look towards the horizon. I throw myself. The drop seems endless, maximum rush of adrenalin. A few unique seconds of indescribable joy.

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Thursday 26 June 2008

Flying over the Namib desert and the Skeleton Coast

What a most impressive view of a desert than the one taken from the sky?
We have trusted the Scenic Air company which shares its activities between the scenic flights over the Namib desert and private flights from a lodge to another one. This last option is definitely not our budget, nor the way we see the trip. For us, it's rather backpacking and sleeping in a tent or a dormitory. And all the money we save, we devote it to the activities. I would have prefered the hot-air balloon but the 350-euro price is really prohibitive.. Thus, we go aboard a Cessna, a small plane which can embark up to 6 people including the pilot.

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We gain altitude and leave the city of Swakopmund to fly alongside the Kuiseb river. A bit of recalcitrant life among an arid and barren area. This green strip draws an absolute demarcation between the Namib desert on our right and the Karoo on our left. The stunning perspective between two expanses with this heap of shrubs as only transition.

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We head southwest towards the dunes of Sosssusvlei. The orange- and red-hued draped ground act as a magnet. We have the nose pressed against the window. The shadows and ridges of the wind-made dunes throw us into a scenery as irrational as exquisite. And even if the view from above flattens the heights, the pleasure of admiring these dunes remains intact.

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The dunes fades into the ocean ; the marker on the way back will be this sand- and navy-coloured component. The irony of fate shows this desert, so arid, is desperately short of this water the ocean has in abundance.
The Skeleton Coast contains its secrets and dangers. The Eduard Bohlen's wreck is there as an evidence. A tangle of wooden beams the time gnawed and the sand attracted far from its ocean. The desert kept its trophy and moved it 200m away from the shore.

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Salterns and flying over the town finish this escapade into the air. The images keep on fluttering and fidgeting in our mind.

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Wednesday 25 June 2008

Seals by the thousand


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We drive northwards to get to Cape Cross. On this short rocky outgrowth, 130 kilometers north from Swakopmund, about ten thousands of seals gather. We go through the entrance gate of the reserve and a pestilential smell gets in our nostrils. We stop our car at the end of the dirt track where an improvised car park looks over a wooden footbridge. A concert of bleatings welcomes us. We can be mistaken about these animals' cry and compare it with a herd of goats' one. The comparison stops there. Thousands of dark masses fidget in front of us. In a clumsy way, the seals wriggle on the sand, attempt to climb upto the smooth rocks and it's only when they dip into the water they get back their agility and a certain grace. Despite the awkward appearance, this animal is a formidable predator since the cape fur seals that live on the Namibian and Southafrican shore gulp down more fish every year than the fishing industry of the 2 countries put together. Far from these considerations we enjoy watching these mammals, a perpetually moving picture. Not far from here, two jackals prowl around, locating some new-born young for a future feast.
The Cape Cross colony is exclusively made up of females and we shall come back for the breeding period (end of november – beginning of december) to see the 5-time-bigger males creeping out of the water. During this short season, the community outnumbers hundred thousands animals. A whole city spreading over a few hectares...

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