As a volunteer, life is characterized by tiny budgets and limited funds. While on holiday, this resulted in many interesting and frugal forms of transportation...namely, hitchhiking. Namibia has a culture of hitchhiking and I’ve found it to be a safe and immensely interesting way to travel. It’s never reliable, never guaranteed, and never boring, but always strangely works out.
Steps to Hitchhiking:
1) Start walking down the road...at least you look like you’re making an effort to get somewhere.
2) When a car approaches, wave your hand down towards the ground if you’re in the North. If you’re anywhere else, it’s best to wave down with one hand and throw up the hitchhiker’s thumb with the other, just in case.
3) Ask the driver where they’re heading and if you can join while assessing whether or not they’re a serial killer.
4) Even if they seem hesitant, use your charm and persuade them to take you partway. Half a ride is always better than no ride.
5) Offer compensation in the form of beer or money (and rejoice when you can get a free hike!).
Enjoy a few profiles of the people we traveled with during our holiday in the south!
The Afrikan Farmers
At the end of our 18-hour train ride, we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere near Grunau hiking down the road with our heavy packs in the bright midday sun. Finally, a white bakkie (pick-up truck) drove by and we tried to flag it down, but it passed us by. Disappointment to the extreme. But farther down the road, it slowed and reversed...hallelujah! This mom, dad, and son trio assumed us to be Afrikaners, but no siree. The dad was weather-worn and sported some great, older white farmer facial hair. Despite our destination being farther than their farm, they let us load into the back of the bakkie and drove us all the way.
The German Family Man
After a long mountain hike and walking for miles down the road in the beating sun with no water, a man with three small children in the backseat drove up to inquire about our destination. With only one seat available in the car, we were ready for to be turned away. But after agreeing that “if the police come, you must get out,” all three of us full-sized adults loaded into the front passenger seat. The family (mom was napping at the lodge) is German but lives in Windhoek and decided to take an impromptu vacation to the south for the week. To have the flexibility of a job, kids that travel well, and a 4WD...amazing! But he only took us halfway...which leads us to the next hike...
The Lekker and Oh-So-Crazy South Africans
While waiting in the shade of a road sign and watching so many cars pass us by (tourists just don’t understand the culture of hitchhiking!), a sketchy blue van slowed to pick us up. The back door slid open to reveal four very inebriated and joyful men from South Africa. They were thrilled to see two girls (and Bret) and eagerly let us into the backseat and gave us ice-cold beers for the 10 minute ride, during which they drank “hot stuff” out of metal mugs, clinked them together only to get liquor all over the vehicle, smoked pipes, and sang loudly to the craziest music ever. They also taught us some unforgettable and inappropriate Afrikaans phrases. Most memorable hike EVER.
The Cute Couple
A sweet young Namibian couple (with the most perfectly pregnant wife) in the tiniest car drove the three of us with our heavily loaded backpacks to Hobas, the campsite before Fish River Canyon. They’ve taken their tiny 2WD car on many back-road trips...sounds like as faithful a vehicle as my trusty Matrix!
The Middle-Aged Adventurers
After sitting alone at the top of Fish River Canyon for 45 minutes, three kind South Africans – two women and a man – stopped to ask if I’d hiked the trail because of my loaded backpack (clearly, no. I could not have hiked it and ended up back at the start). When they heard I was trying to get to Ai-Ais, they gladly took me with them. They were hilarious and love traveling, so we had many off-road adventures on the way and a mountain Zebra sighting.
The Belgians
After being stuck in Ai-Ais for 48 hours (it’s hard to hitchhike away from a resort in the middle of nowhere), a generous pair of young Belgians offered to take me to Luderitz. Hallelujah! What should have been a 6-hour drive turned into an 11-hour drive as we decided to take the road that’s technically been closed for over a month. We stopped often for photos and never drove more than 40 kph on the muddy, slippery, mountainous, narrow road along the Orange River. When we came across six very washed out portions of the road, we spent 20 minutes at each site on our hands and knees moving mud and boulders to create a path for the truck to cross the crevasse. As the road turned north and became paved, we encountered such thick fog that you couldn’t see the other side of the road. Thanks to their humor, sarcasm, and fun English, I felt rejuvenated by the human contact despite being stuck in a car for an entire day!
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