Today we say goodbye to our lovely accommodation at Desert Dreams B&B and head inland once more. But before that, we follow the coastal road north, with a few stops we’ve picked out along the way.
As we leave Walvis Bay, the scenery on either side of the road changes from industrial zones to the residential neighborhoods of the less affluent population. It doesn’t look like a slum—more like a settlement of small, relatively new houses that appear clean and well-kept. According to what we’ve read, these homes are connected to sewage, water, and electricity, and indeed, we can see street lighting as well. It’s certainly no luxury, but it seems to provide a dignified standard of living.
One thing we can’t quite grasp is how people here get around without cars. We haven’t seen any public transport—no buses, not even in Windhoek. A few bicycles at best. So do people walk everywhere? Hitchhiking seems quite common; we pass several people trying to catch a ride. Picking up strangers isn’t something we’re comfortable with, though.
We pass a quad tour starting point and a scenic lookout atop one of the many sand dunes to the right. But instead of stopping, we turn left into the new development of Afrodite Beach. All along the coast between Walvis Bay and Swakopmund—and even further—there are clusters of holiday homes that have gradually turned into small settlements. Our impression is that coastal tourism is booming, not necessarily for European travelers, but more so for wealthier locals or South Africans, given Namibia’s close ties with its southern neighbor.
Afrodite Beach is a striking contrast to the modest homes we saw earlier on the way out of Walvis Bay. It’s still under development, with only a handful of houses, but these few buildings rival any luxury villa in Europe. The wide streets, lined with palm trees, add to the upscale vibe. The few people we see are of European descent, confirming what we later read online: Namibia has one of the highest income disparities in the world—far greater than in Germany or any other European country. A dark side of this inequality is the relatively high crime rate. Just yesterday, during our pelican tour, the driver warned us not to walk around late in the evening due to the risk of muggings. People here also tend to keep their homes guarded while they’re away on vacation.
Leaving Afrodite Beach, we continue along the excellent coastal road—nicely paved and well-maintained—pass Swakopmund, and head further north. In the distance, we spot another salt factory, possibly a branch of the one in Walvis Bay?
Some side roads on the left lead to well-marked fishing spots. Fishing seems to be a popular pastime in Namibia—especially today, a Sunday. We see numerous vehicles with fishing rods sticking upright, some 10 to 13 feet (3–4 meters) long. In a country with few bridges or low overhangs, that’s not a problem. We’d seen one such car in Swakopmund yesterday, but the photo fits better here.
Our next stop is the shipwreck of the Zeila, a few kilometers north. The Zeila was an old fishing trawler that was being towed from Walvis Bay to be dismantled in 2008—without its engine. Unfortunately, the tow line snapped, and the ship drifted uncontrollably before running aground on this stormy coast. The two crew members were rescued safely. The wreck has been left where it lies and is now a haven for seabirds. It marks the beginning of the so-called Skeleton Coast, a treacherous stretch of shoreline with numerous shipwrecks, some even from recent decades.
At the info board near the wreck, a small group of people in tattered clothes approach us, offering stones and semi-precious gems they say they’ve found in the mountains. The stones are beautiful, and the people seem in need, so we buy a few. As a thank-you, they take a group photo with us and share a few words in click language, a fascinating hallmark of the local culture.
We soon reach Henties Bay, a seaside town named after Hentie van der Merwe, who discovered a freshwater spring here in 1922 and began spending his summer holidays at the spot in 1929. Word spread, and friends and family followed. Over the years, it grew into a small town with over 4,000 residents and all the necessary infrastructure. Interestingly, Henties Bay now sources its fresh water from a dam on one of the ephemeral rivers—the kind that only flows every few years. That seems to be enough. We also spot a seawater desalination plant near town—perhaps a sign of things to come. Given the abundance of sunlight here, solar-powered desalination could be a sustainable solution for future water needs. Similar plans are reportedly underway in Windhoek.
The town features a nice beach, and alongside the homes of permanent residents, there are many holiday homes—mostly empty this time of year. The houses are modest compared to Afrodite Beach. No doubt the area gets busier in the Namibian summer, when the cooler coastal air offers relief from the inland heat.
From Henties Bay, we drive about 100 km (62 miles) inland toward our destination: Spitzkoppe, where we plan to camp for two nights. The road stretches straight through the desert. The surface is excellent—firm, level, and shimmering in the sunlight, much like salt. Michael, being an engineer, pours some water for a little test. Sure enough, the road has a compacted sand base with a surface crust of salt—an interesting construction, probably only feasible in such arid conditions.
We exit the Dorob National Park, which extends north from Swakopmund along the coast.
The road eventually turns back into the familiar gravel track, and we switch to four-wheel drive—routine by now. The landscape becomes a little greener; grass and small bushes begin to appear. On the horizon, we can already make out the mountains around Spitzkoppe, visible from the moment we left Henties Bay. But now, we’re close enough for some truly scenic shots.
The closer we get to Spitzkoppe, the more imposing and majestic it appears in the sunlight, casting bold shadows and revealing layers of color. At one point, we pass through what seems to be private land, where a modestly dressed man has set up a gate. For a small fee—and a tiny tourmaline stone—he lets us through.
Eventually, we reach our destination: Spitzkoppe Cabin Camp. One of several campgrounds in the area, it offers different levels of comfort. We opted for the middle tier—a small solid hut with a porch and shared bathroom facilities. There’s a grill right outside, and also a communal BBQ area.
At check-in, the friendly lady warns us not to plug in any electrical devices—doing so could overload the local solar-powered grid. We cautiously test our electric cooler, and luckily, it works without issue.
Crickets are everywhere here—large, fat ones, about 2 inches (5 cm) long. Fortunately, they don’t fly—but they do chirp impressively.
The hot water for the showers is heated with a wood-burning system and stored in a tank. We even snapped a picture of it.
A few shots of the evening mood at the camp wrap up the day. More details to follow tomorrow.
Lastly, a photo of our now substantial collection of stones and semi-precious gems: amethyst, tourmaline, various types of quartz, and even a bit of malachite. Definitely enough for this trip.
