After my wipeout coming back from Sossosvlei in southern Namibia and some much needed R&R in Windhoek, quite possibly the world’s most boring city (with all apologies to St. Augustine, Florida) , and with connection from a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend, I got my Angola visa very quickly.

In lieu of segueing east to Swakopmund and the Skeleton Coast before heading to Etosha , in my hobbled state moral support arrived in the form of a passenger who planned a 6-day (soon to be 7-day after a miscommunication about flight times) excursion that would instead do a full loop around Northern and Eastern Namibia beginning and ending in Windhoek.

Here’s the route we took- 1542 kilometers over 5.5 days:

The main highway (the easternmost road) is tar, and all the rest were high quality gravel, mostly boring straightaways but a few twisties and up-and-downs as the elevation changed in some areas.

There were no real close calls on the gravel, but a handful of high speed wobbles kept everyone from falling asleep too often.

We spent two days at a kitschy backpacker’s in Swakopmund, one night in Khorixas at a rest camp, two nights camping on the grounds of the Etosha Safari Lodge (great place, even if it was full of Germans), and two nights in and around Windhoek.

We tried to nonchalantly ride into Etosha National Park, but even after claiming we were approved by the National Park authority via phone, we were denied, as it’s standard practice that in wild game parks with wild rhino, lions, cheetahs, elephants, etc. being in a closed vehicle is a matter of health and safety, not convenience.

Instead, we ended up hitching a ride in the back of the pickup (bakkie for those in the southern hemisphere) the next day for an 8-hour game drive with Max, a Namibian of German descent, his Slovakian wife, and her visiting parents).

In traditional Afrikaans (or Afrikaans-speaking at least) hospitality Max refused to let us help pay park admission fees, and the least we could do was buy him a few bottles of wine.

We’ll see how far this hospitality extends as I head north - hopefully all the way to Morocco.