East winds are here again, blowing from the desert for a few days. In Walvis Bay we probably have 27 degrees Celsius on land, and we can feel the hot desert winds out at sea and witness the sand storm behind the dunes. The dunes have obtained a black rind that indicates a shadow: the wind has blown the edge of the dune over toward the sea.

A weekend off means exploring the desert. This time with just a clumsy 2WD Volkswagen, but it does fit all 6 of us. The road between Walvis Bay and Windhoek, toward the junction of Solitaire, is terrible. From the junction onward it is dreadful. No paving but a sand road through the Namib desert, with ridges and bumps so my teeth shake in my mouth. There is a mountainous area with a few narrow passes, and otherwise there is sand on the road, enough for some proper swerving of any type of car.

After the highlands come grassy plains. Everything is yellow and dry after December rains (the first in 4 years). Still, the plains are inhabited by hardy animals: zebra, springbok, oryx, wildebeest. The oryx can apparently live on the tiny amount of water in desert plants, and only need to top up with drinking water every few weeks.

It is a strange experience to drive in the desert. There are signs to lodges, but nowhere does one pull up into a nice lookout spot with the buildings hiding in the shadow of trees. Simply, someone staked a plot of land and decided to put up a number of houses in the sand. A road sign, and voilá: done.

Before cars there was no living in the desert. People only crossed the desert because they really needed to, even with risking their lives factored in. Today, one can experience a night in the desert by entering from one side and exiting through the gift shop the next morning. (Namib desert, Namibia; July 2017)

Today I was exposed to so much sand there will be sand in my belongings still one month after returning home. There is a row of dunes between Walvis Bay airport and the town. Dune 7 is the most famous one of them (why?), and does not migrate too much. It is meant to be climbed up and run or boarded down. Dune 7, like any dune, is best ascended barefoot, along the ridge. Descent happens really anywhere one prefers. It is a bizarre sight to see people, young and old, running down a 200 meter tall dune at an angle of 45 degrees without tumbling.

Down at the car park, a cacophony of different varieties of reggaeton and dance hall beats reigned: it was a popular picnic spot with the local black people and each family had brought their own boom box. Why not, since the desert is silent and without echoes, like a padded chamber of a mental asylum.(Dune 7, Walvis Bay, Namibia; July 2017)

There is an area in the Namib the locals call the Moon Landscape. It really does look like a moon landscape with soft craters and hills made of sand and soft-polished rock. If you scream here, it is highly likely that not a single living thing with ears will hear you.

The Namib desert is not a friendly place. But with a trustworthy car underneath it is an incredible place. Fine yellow sand everywhere. If not dunes then barely a single rock or brush per a hundred square meters. It is unfathomable that people lived here before proper 20th century living with water and power brought in.
Most of Namibia is traditionally uninhabitable, and people have always flocked to the rivers and oases. Because the other choice is a desert with no water bordering on an ocean with too much water, and none of it potable.
On our day drive we passed three jeeps in a junction in the middle of the wide-open desert. There were three families out on a Saturday drive, drinking beer and driving around the desert. This, and tailgate picnics, seems to be the best Saturday pastime for locals. It is as if the locals do not get enough of the hostile empty hot nothingness but actually embrace it. The human species truly is adaptable.(Namib desert, Namibia; July 2017)