Today we leave Uis and head toward one of Namibia’s better-known sights: Twyfelfontein. The name comes from Afrikaans and means “Doubtful Fountain.” What’s behind that curious name and what’s there to see? More on that later.
We have around 150 kilometers (about 93 miles) ahead of us, following the now-familiar gravel roads of Namibia. By this point, we’ve almost grown used to these as the “default” state of roads here—so every patch of tarmac feels like a small celebration. It’s amazing how quickly you adapt!
Not far into the drive, we catch a glimpse of the Brandberg Massif glowing in the soft red morning light off to the left. This granite mountain range rises almost 2000 meters (about 6,560 feet) above the surrounding terrain and is about half the size of Berlin. It’s home to Königstein, Namibia’s highest peak at 2,573 meters (8,439 feet). The massif formed around 130 million years ago through underground volcanic activity—dating back to the time of the dinosaurs. The surrounding softer rock has since eroded away, leaving behind the resilient granite. Much like at Spitzkoppe, the area is rich in minerals and semi-precious stones—some of which we’ve already picked up on the road.
We skip the famous White Lady rock paintings near Brandberg this time, as visiting them would mean a 42-kilometer (26-mile) detour.
Along the way, we spot two animal warning signs that are new to us. One is obvious, the other leaves us guessing what creature it’s meant to represent.
Occasionally we pass by groups of people living in very basic huts close to the road. We’d seen some of them the day before on our elephant tour—our guide had told us they were Himba. Today, some wave water bottles at us, seemingly asking for help. Homemade signs with the word “Himba” confirm their identity.
A look at our guidebook tells us the Himba are a traditionally nomadic people from Namibia’s remote northwest. It’s not clear what has led them here—or why they’ve partly abandoned their traditional way of life to rely on begging.
Eventually we reach the Ugab River, which isn’t quite as dry as expected—thanks to rain two months ago. We’d crossed it yesterday on a smaller D-road during our elephant tour, where our guide had to carefully steer through shallow water. Today we opt for a more developed C-road, hoping for an easier crossing.
And our hopes are met: a stone bridge spans the river—a rare sight in Namibia! Naturally, we pause for a few photos of the bridge and the surrounding landscape.
Nearby, a group of tourists is being dropped off from a rugged vehicle (Unimog-based) to visit a Herero craft market. It reminds us of group trips we’ve taken in Turkey or Morocco, with stops at carpet or leather shops.
Further on, we encounter one of the machines used to level Namibia’s gravel roads—massive vehicles with wide blades that smooth the surface and form neat rows of gravel on the sides. It’s well-lit and hard to miss. The driver gives us a friendly wave as we pass.
Strangely, we see a second one not long after—odd, as we hadn’t seen a single one until today.
Then suddenly, a horse appears by the roadside—a must-capture moment, of course. Time for a snack and a sip of water. We notice our water bottle was filled specially for the supermarket in Uis—an amusing little detail.
As we get closer to Twyfelfontein, the road turns to asphalt—a sign that we’re nearing a tourist destination. Lodges and camps start popping up more frequently.
The name Twyfelfontein comes from settler David Levin, a German-Jewish emigrant who built a sheep farm here with his South African wife in the remote Namib. He found a spring on the land—unreliable and inconsistent—hence the “doubtful” name that still sticks today.
But the real reason tourists come here isn’t the spring or the ruins of the old farm. It’s the ancient rock engravings nearby that draw visitors.
We park next to a handful of other tour buses and 4x4s—there are definitely some groups here, but it’s nothing like the crowds at Sossusvlei. On the short walk to the reception area, we pass striking rock formations—likely sandstone, heavily shaped by erosion, and quite different from the granite at Brandberg or Spitzkoppe.
At the reception we pay our entry fee and are assigned a guide. Our tour starts with a short walk along the road. First stop: the ruins of David Levin’s old farmhouse, where he lived from 1946 to 1964. The spring itself is just up the hill, beneath a small wooden shelter.
From there, the path leads us uphill through rocky terrain. We spot numerous engraved animal figures, as well as footprints and handprints, all carved into sandstone. Our guide explains these were made by the San people, dating back 2,000 to 6,000 years. These are the same people whose paintings we saw at Spitzkoppe—but here, they engraved rather than painted, using the relatively soft sandstone.
Our guide interprets some of the images. One that stays with us is the giraffe, symbolizing the search for water—giraffes, in San belief, touch the clouds and bring rain to the earth.
We also see what resembles an ancient map of waterholes, marked by circles and holes. Unfortunately, it no longer reflects the current landscape—the water sources have shifted over time.
One fascinating detail: there are images of marine animals—flamingos, seals, even a penguin! The San used to travel to the coast to collect salt for preserving meat. You can spot the seals clearly in one of the engravings.
We wrap up the tour with a photo with our guide and a quick look at an information board about Twyfelfontein.
We briefly consider visiting the nearby Organ Pipes, a basalt rock formation—but the heat and the distance put us off. The rocks will have to wait.
It’s not much longer until we reach our stop for the night: the Petrified Forest Rest Camp. It’s a privately run guesthouse owned by a couple a bit younger than us, who’ve been running a roadside café since 2011 and now offer four bungalows to overnight guests.
While waiting for our bungalow to be ready, we chat with the owners, Eddy and Letty, and learn a lot about them. He used to drive trucks, she was a nurse. They have four children and five grandchildren—two of the kids studied and now work as a pharmacist and a journalist. It’s inspiring to see how they’ve built something out of nothing and are already thinking about expanding.
It’s also interesting to observe how family sizes have changed over generations—much like in our own experience. Eddy has nine siblings, he and Letty have four kids, and their son has two. Namibia still has a population growth rate of around 3%, and most people we see are quite young—but growing prosperity seems to be steering things in a positive direction.
From our bungalow, we look out over the vast Namib landscape and enjoy the sunset. We write up our blog post—locally, of course, since there’s no internet here. Dinner is a hearty meal of beef, mashed potatoes, and vegetables—with a hint of German comfort.
After dinner, Eddy surprises us with an impressive card trick and then shows us the Southern Cross in the night sky. Just as people in the north use the Big Dipper to find north, the Southern Cross helps navigate the southern hemisphere.
A beautiful end to a full day.