Day 3-051
Day Totals: 16 hrs, 14 kms

After a day of tiny towns and vast desert, Windhoek is a big contrast . It feels "big city" all around, with big roads, big shopping malls, aggressive traffic... even a coupe of skyscrapers... Unlike Gaborone which feels more like a sprawled out village.

Evening is approaching, so I should look for a place to stay... but first lets check out transportation options. I read that there's a slow overnight train to the coast. Why not go there first and explore Windhoek on my way back?

Sure enough, I reach the train station, with a very "Old German" feel to it, still clinging to the shadow of its former glory... and, yep, there's a train heading to Walvis Bay on the Atlantic Coast. I hurry back to the supermarket to get some supper, then board the train and head off into the night.

The Train Ride

This train actually has 6 bed sleeping compartments, allowing me a good nights sleep. I wake up right after dawn and gaze out to a completely different world .

Suddenly I realize that what I saw yesterday wasn't desert (technically it was a "savannah") THIS is desert... not a speck of life as far as the eye can see. Just endless moonscape and high rising dunes.

It's a surreal experience. Sure, I've experienced moonscapes before in Morocco, but to be riding on a train through a moonscape is just bizarre. I mean, trains are supposed to go somewhere important, right? This train feels like it's going to nowhere...

I chat a bit with the two young ladies I shared the compartment with. They are both heading to the coastal towns in search of work. The first girl hopes to be a waitress at the touristy town of Swakopmund. The other girl has relatives in Walvis Bay and hopes to find a job there. "I'd like to travel abroad someday," she tells me "but I don't know... I can't be away from my family for very long. Namibians don't really travel a lot ... we're sort of stuck in one place..."

Finally, hours after schedule, the train approaches Swakopmund. It start out with a vast area tiny metal shacks... followed by another large area of slightly better shacks... then another area of poorly built houses. All laid out in a perfect grid, with wide streets. It's clear these neighborhoods were planned. But why? Why so many people living in miserable conditions?

The train continues on with flat desert on one side and huge sand mountains on the other, on to the "Middle of Nowhere". Then suddenly the desert ends and another city abruptly begins. Walvis Bay, it turns out is a large, bustling port city. The port feels unnaturally large for a country with such a small population. I hop off the train and head down a busy, modern main street that seems to go on forever... then finally fizzles out into a quiet, upscale residential area.

Next I reach a huge bay with thousands upon thousands of flamingos ... quite a spectacular sight--and a tourist attraction. They are quite fun to watch with their cartoonish legs, all walking and eating in formation along the muddy shallows. Here I do feel a slight tinge of envy for the tourists hauling a "real" camera with 1 foot lens...

I follow the shore of the bay until I reach a barren, desert coastline that stretches on for hundreds of miles... and turn around.

Behind the bay is a disproportionately large area of luxury homes. Most of these apprear to be empty... yet there doesn't seem to be the same concern about security as neighboring countries. Many with no walls or bars on the window. Are these the vacation homes of Namibians or of well to do Europeans? I later learn it's a bit of both. Well to do folks in Windhoek are building vacation homes here as are many Germans.

I also learn that Namibia, by some calculations has the dubious title of "Most Unequal Country on Earth" .

I walk and walk in the blistering sun. I pass by an upscale private school, which in the day was "whites only". Now all (who have money) can study there. As I watch the kids going home I make a peculiar observation: all the black kids are wearing shoes.... almost all the white kids... are barefoot!

I immediately imagine going to back to America to collect used shoes for the "poor (white) children of Africa..."

Not. These kids obviously aren't poor... maybe they just think it's cool to go barefoot.

I still have a lot of unanswered questions about this town, but I think it's time to move on. I head to the Swakopmund collective taxi stand, expecting a quick, efficient ride to the neighboring town... but no. Up until now Namibia has proven to be a peaceful, civil country, but that image is about to change.

As soon as I arrive a bunch of guys try to hustle me to different cars . To avoid chaos, I quickly choose one and head towards it. One guy tries to grab my backpack, but I give him a very firm "I carry my own bags!" and he lets me be.

Once safely inside the vehicle and I watch the spectacle that follows. There are several cars that are partly full, all recklessly driving in circles to try to snag the next customer. Each car has a team of a driver and a hustler. When a potential customer arrives they lunge at her and grab her bag. In one case three guys yank on a poor girl's school bag, almost ripping it apart... Than they physically force her into the car--all the while the other team trying to grab her and force her into the other car!

I guess I got off easy.

Suddenly Western Africa seems so much more civilized. Each car takes turns, one fills up, leaves and the one behind it fills up... with a "manager" to solve any disputes...

I feel a mix of humor, frustration and sympathy. I do feel sorry for these girls that have to deal with this wolf pack on a daily basis!