Rivit? What a clever wake-up call--Andre imitating a frog.Only after we washed up and glanced at our clock did we realize that some bird with laryngitis had preempted Andre and stole 2 minutes of snooze from Anne and Rick.
Post a hearty breakfast, Andre led us on a rock-climbing excursion to view petroglyphs and pictographs.
Layers of rock, shining in the early morning sun, provided the perfect backdrop as we explored Bushmen caves,
created millennia ago by HGs—hunter gatherers—and littered with remnants of tools, pottery, and ostrich egg shells for jewelry beading, in a landscape rich with Bushman’s Prawn (AKA crickets). We paid our respects at a Bushman’s tomb and marveled at the construction of a lamb’s cage of rocks and figured out why one of the native plants has the word “colon” in its name.
Around each corner of our hike, the geology changed shades of ochre and green, and revealed more of Andre’s bottomless store of knowledge, all greatly appreciated and soon forgotten.
We bid adieu to Kuidas Camp, as we boarded our afternoon charter to explore the Skeleton coastline and the roaring dunes of Terrace Bay. Unfortunately, the fog was as thick as Exorcist spew, and we detoured to a refueling stop enroute to our next camp. While the jet fuel attendant filled ‘er up (and forgot to replace the gas cap, as we later discovered), we decided to bushwhack over a bristly and rocky savannah and tip-toe traverse the shaky, slippery, and algae-covered stones lining a river bed along a linear oasis, still wet from a heavy rainy season.
Assorted wildlife peaked out from among the bushes. A well-camouflaged kudu was our first discovery, followed by skittish flocks of steenbok, springbok, and galloping gemsbock (AKA oryx), and a small herd of referee-striped equines (AKA zebra).
Nancy claimed to have spotted a cape hare, but we suspect the sighting was actually of jacobson’s curly hair.
Just as we were running out of steam, patience, and daylight, we detected a long-necked wonder beside a eucalyptus tree in the distance—no, not a Bud, but an even-toed ungulate mammal AKA giraffe. Nancy quickly dubbed him “James,”
as we inched closer and spun yarns and plotted children’s tales centered around this lonely majestic beast. Perhaps it was an inability to share that fated James to a wander Namibia alone? With the sun quickly setting, we bid James adieu and made haste back to the airplane before having to fly in the dark.
With the sun setting, two oryx were kind enough to cast shadows in the sand with their horns from atop the dunes as we flew overhead.
During the dusky flight to camp, Andre assured us that we passed at least five Claude Raines Rhinos (invisible to the naked eye in the dusky valleys below) before we got lucky and caught a glimpse of a rarely seen brown hyena in the salt flat below.
At last, we landed at the airstrip nearby the luxurious new Leyland Drift campsite, named after an ancient delivery truck that supported Andre’s early adventures on the Skeleton Coast. We were greeted at the camp by Andre’s brother Leon and nephew, Jacques, who were doing some repairs on the cars and facilities. Following a yummy spaghetti dinner and some more star-gazing, Andre asked if we were up for an adventure tomorrow, to which we enthusiastically agreed, then headed to bed in great anticipation
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