Today marks our very last day in Namibia. This evening, we’ll board a flight via Frankfurt and head home to Berlin.
After checking out of the charming Ti Melen Boutique Guesthouse, we make our way to the Craft Market in Windhoek—our final stop to pick up a few souvenirs. The market is a colorful collection of small and large shops offering a wide range of handcrafted goods. From wood and leather to fabric and beads, everything is beautifully made—some practical, some decorative, but all unique. There’s even a little restaurant upstairs. While we spot a few imports from South Africa (T-shirts, mainly), we’re pleased to find nothing made in China. It feels authentic—and we like that.
As we pay, we again notice something we’ve observed throughout our trip: many Black Namibians have German first names—and sometimes even German surnames. We’ve met Gerdas, Johannas, Wilhelminas, Ingrids, and Friedas. Just yesterday, the lovely receptionist at the Kalahari Red Dunes Lodge was named Cenderela Ludwig. We suspect many people here have partial German ancestry—something that would also explain the remarkable range of skin tones we’ve seen during our journey.
By midday, we decide to spend our final afternoon in nature, so we head to the Avis Dam, a local nature area in eastern Windhoek—just a short drive from our guesthouse.
Built in 1933 to serve as a drinking water reservoir, Avis Dam never quite fulfilled that purpose, as the river that feeds it only flows sporadically. Over time, the area evolved into a peaceful escape with walking trails and scenic views.
Today, we’re in luck—the dam is full. Water levels are high, almost swallowing some of the trees along the shore. Parts of the lower trail are even flooded.
The skies are darkening too—a rare sight on our trip. We throw on our rain jackets, which conveniently double as windbreakers, and set out along the lakeside path. We capture photo after photo—the light, the landscape, the atmosphere—everything feels like a proper farewell.
At one point, we catch a distant glimpse of our last accommodation — a cozy house perched on the hillside, visible just to the right in the frame.
We make it halfway around the lake before deciding to turn back, unsure if a full loop is possible. On our return, we stumble across a group of elegantly dressed young women wearing silver sashes, posing for a photoshoot. Several men with professional cameras hover nearby. It feels like a beauty contest shoot, and we discreetly snap a quick photo. A few steps further, we pass some shoes—clearly swapped out for high heels just for the shoot.
Back at the car, we still have time before heading to the airport. We use it wisely: reorganizing our carry-on luggage (we’re traveling light with no checked bags), catching up on blog writing (thanks to smooth Wi-Fi), and finishing off the delicious apple crumble from Rehoboth we bought yesterday.
Then—something completely unexpected happens: it starts to rain. Not heavily, but enough to wet everything around us, including our dusty rental car. Honestly? It’s just what it needed.
Our drive to the airport is quiet, and the rain fades away. We return the car, which has served us faithfully over nearly three weeks and 3,440 kilometers (about 2,138 miles)—without a single issue or flat tire. That’s quite a bit more driving than we originally planned, but Namibia is vast, and distances here are serious. Our average fuel consumption was 8.8 liters per 100 kilometers—which translates to roughly 26.7 miles per gallon (US). Not bad at all.
What’s left is routine: airport check-in, waiting at the gate, and preparing for the ten-hour flight to Frankfurt, followed by a short hop to Berlin. We’ll arrive tomorrow morning.
One last travel note: This time, our cooler bag made it through security without a fuss. But a jar of Namibian jam? Confiscated—not for the contents, but for being in a glass jar. We get it—it could break and be dangerous. But then again… the duty-free shop right next door is filled with shelves of wine, champagne, and liquor in glass bottles. Apparently, those are fine.
Eventually, it’s time to board. We’re in Group 3, walking across the tarmac toward the waiting plane—massive and glowing in the golden evening light. Above us, the Namibian sky bids us farewell in a blaze of sunset colors. We’ve seen so many of these skies on our journey. And now, it’s our turn to say goodbye.
Goodbye, Namibia. We’ll carry you with us.