Duty calls. We break free of the rocks and stars and make our way to Walvis Bay through the Namib-Nakluft National Park. Endless sand and rock cover every kilometer and while it is all amazing to behold we are happy to arrive at the coast. The camping is limited and not very comfortable. Too many campers and not enough ablution blocks – I will spare the details. The white pelicans and pink flamingos made up for most of it. We only stay the night in Walvis Bay.

Swakopmund is just up the coast and it has an air of vacation home to it, and all the kinds of businesses that vacationers bring to a town. There is excellent camping and just down the road from the campsite is where the fishing boats clean the catch of the day. We see this and stop to ask if there are any fresh fish to buy – a boat captain gives us two just-caught “black fin” fish and we braai them up for dinner.

We then spend our first night out of the Beagle in three weeks. We were due a room – maybe even overdue – and we try to make the most of it. The trouble with getting a room is that you can’t check in until after 2pm and you must vacate by 10am – that doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything but internet and sleep. Hardly worth the money except for the crisp clean sheets and giant showers, right? No complaints about that.

A permit is required to visit the Tinkas Flats area, our next destination. We stop at the permit office after a visit to the Swakopmund Snake House, and find that the permit office is covered in posters of Namibia’s various snakes. I’m sensing a pattern here. But why worry about snakes when every single bush, twig and tree holds more thorns than a Cholla cactus. Not to mention the poisonous Henbane plants and the Castor Bean growing wild (think ricin, and Breaking Bad) plus the stinging needles. Priorities!

So what’s a Tinkas, anyways? Jim and I ask ourselves this as we camp amid rocks, sand and Welwitschia plants. We still don’t know. But the Welwitschia plants are something H.P. Lovecraft would have liked; a creepy plant growing only two leaves which feather out as it ages to look like it is having a really bad hair day. Completely suited to this hot dry environment, the plant thrives along, so who am I to say it’s creepy? Still, it’s quite odd.

We plan three nights at the very well-operated community camp of Spittskoppe. Community camps are run by the local village – in this case huts and a boarding school strung out on the nine kilometer road into the camp. Villagers have stalls set up along the way selling curios, rocks, wind chimes made from curios and rocks, very creative. We have to drive by and wave; we have no room for trinkets and there is still a very long way to go. Better to stay at the camp and hire a guide for a tour than buy a rock. There is San bushman art to see and the campsite is awesome. The birds and plants vary from one side of the valley to the other and we see Rosy-Cheeked Lovebirds, Pale-winged Starlings, various doves, wagtails and of course weavers. Water comes from a tiny seep in the rocks above us, while throughout the Spittskoppe one can find large and deep water pools in the rocks. This area once supported big game when climate was more humid. Spectacular scenery here.