Petrified Forests to Skeleton Coast, April 2022

Retracing our earlier route we head west towards the Skeleton Coast. My parents used to live there way back in the days from when I was a new-born up to the age of two years old. I’m excited to finally be able to see the area.

We regret not having gone all the way to Khorixas to fill the fuel tanks up because as we drive we notice there are no fuel stations until much further south of Skeleton Coast national park, along the coast. After some hurried research we see that there might be a fuel station a little further north of the turnoff to Skeleton Coast at a place called Palmwag. It’s an interesting detour and we are introduced to the vast basalt landscape of the Etendeka Plateau.

Just beyond the entrance gate to the Palmwag Concession is a small fuel station. We pump about 80 litres of diesel into the tanks for certainty and turn around again. It later turned out that there was a fuel station at Terrace Bay in the Skeleton Coast National Park which had diesel but no petrol so not to be relied on. In fact, most of the coast down to Hentiesbaai is unreliable for fuel out of season apparently so be sure to fill up when you can. ‘Cause it’s like the desert.

On the way back to the Skeleton Coast turning there are springbok and giraffe in the desert sandscape. We keep our eyes open for any legendary desert elephant and desert lion in the distance. The mud huts of the Himba rise and disappear behind us interspersed by hills of baked sand the same colour as their linimented skin. We take a turning into the Namib Desert proper and the ancient coastline ahead. We leave the Himba people behind.

The drive towards the Skeleton Coast from the East is fairly uneventful except for the transition from red baked dirt to dry grass waving in the April sunlight. Flocks of ostrich appear nearby and in the distance. The ostrich flocks are in and amongst our newly discovered welwitschia plants which have become even more noticeable. There is reportedly a fog along the West Coast that we are still to see which rolls over the Namib providing the little moisture needed by the welwitschia to live their spans of thousands of years.

In front of us appears a small national park rangers’ compound called Springwasser. Surreal in the approach to the compound is the fact that the land is changing swiftly from grassland to dunes. The gate into the Skeleton Coast national park appears to be there to corral the desert, sands and dunes of the Namib. 

We are on a budget and can’t afford to stay in Skeleton Coast national park for too long. There is a campsite area at Torra Bay but that is only open in December and January. Luckily, the NWR (Namibian Wildlife Resort) SADC accommodation discount is available here also and so we book in at the Springwasser gate for one night at Terrace Bay. In order to be allowed to transit the Skeleton Coast national park from Springwasser (North-East gate) to Ugab (South gate) you need to arrive before mid-afternoon to make it through the 150 kilometer trek. The transit route is special enough but the trip to Terrace Bay must be done to experience the full impact of this area. We debate, but not too long, and agree our budget can stretch for a night at Terrace Bay.

We have only partially done our homework on the Skeleton Coast entry requirements and laugh to see two New Zealand ladies on bicycles in a bit of trouble. They didn’t know that only motorised vehicles are allowed to transit or enter the national park. Which makes sense as it’s a national park with wild animals in it. After some research on my side, I think you can bicycle through but need a special permit from Windhoek with conditions attached. Support vehicles, etc I assume. As we were heading north to Terrace Bay we couldn’t help them, but the car behind us offered them a ride. We have done some long trips on bicycles before but riding through Damaraland desert conditions is impressive.

The drive to Terrace Bay is possibly the best I’ve done in the world. There are only a few vehicles which enter the park each day and I don’t remember seeing one on the way to Terrace Bay. The landscape changes every few minutes from east to west and south to north. Large and ancient hard baked red dunes fade to towering soft sand dunes rippling like the scales of a leviathan. When we finally see the Atlantic Ocean in front of us we turn off the first leg of the journey and head north up the coast. The dunes of leviathan scales become larger and larger as we round a corner and in front of us a wall of apocalyptic fog stretches up from the grey ocean surface to just below the cumulos heights. The fog is still lying over the ocean but moving closer. The sand dunes on the right of us are becoming larger and larger and gradually form one continuous ridge of ripples traversing far into the distant North. The barricade of dunes appears to be competing with the phalanx of ocean cloud for supremacy of the desert coastline.

We cross the Uniab River which is mostly dry but bulrushes give an ancient oasis feel and stretch down the river course giving us hope of seeing thirsty desert animals. None to be seen unfortunately. The fog finally rolls in on the next corner. It’s a weird feeling to enter the outside wall of fog which is opaque. On the other side the air is chilled and heavier. The sun is only visible as a powerless and shimmering orb but the visibility is good enough. We can still see the coastline and some dunes.

The next section is a flood plain. It has the feeling of an ancient marsh and the whispering fog running over a surface broken by dead trees makes you shiver. We cross the flood-plain along a simple one lane dyke.

Traditional desert sand dunes finally crash into ocean dunes. We drive in between our tiny minds filled to the brim by everything we have seen before even arriving at Terrace Bay Camp.

At Terrace Bay Camp we get a comfortable ensuite chalet looking out onto the ocean. On arrival there are seals swimming in kelp topped waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The beach is made of smooth pebbles and stone.

The coastline is enjoyed with a sundowner beer on the balcony. At sunset we walk up to the Terrace Bay bar and restaurant. It may as well be called “the Restaurant at the End of the World” as it definitely has that feel. The restaurant sits at the top of the resort and has a one hundred and eighty degree view of the coast line. Reserve a table next to the window if you can. 

Accommodation price includes dinner and breakfast. Being over three hundred kilometers from the end of civilisation and based on the low price we paid I’m not expecting much from the meal. I opt for a large beer to soften the disappointment to come. 

The set menu turns out to be good! Simple but good. Tonight’s meal is a complimentary four courses. We are ravenous as not really had anything since breakfast so four courses sounds just the ticket. Options are chicken or T-bone for main and dessert or no dessert. I choose the T-bone and Kirsty chooses the chicken. First course is a really good carrot soup which washes away the final chills of the fog outside. Second course is a hopeful looking slice of pizza closer in taste to a toasted cheese but enjoyed nonetheless because…well it’s melted cheese and tomato. I’m disappointed to hear from the waiter that the T-bones are finished for the evening and I am the odd one out. I am however offered a “steak” instead. What I get is the biggest piece of rump steak that I have ever eaten. Like John Candy eating the Old ‘96er in The Great Outdoors I sweat and whimper through the flank aided by a second flagon of beer. My companion’s chicken is done well, is juicy and has good spices on it. My massive steak is grilled to perfection with some spices added lovingly. I finish the main and wipe my brow. I leave the remaining half flagon of beer well alone and burp uncertainly. 

Dessert is a sticky toffee pudding with ice cream which is too good to resist but ultimately my undoing as I spend the next few hours praying for digestion. Kirsty says I’m dumb.

The night in the Skeleton Coast chalet is peaceful but we sleep fitfully listening to the emptiness of the desert and ocean in the whistling winds and surging waves.

The next day we drive a little further north past the air-strip which my Dad and Mom must have used back in the days when they owned an old model striped cessna airplane. Homage paid to exciting lives and we travel back down the road.