Following the train tracks we head for Luderitz and the coast. Three quarters of the way there, the track becomes buried by sand. Lots and lots of sand. There are stop signs and big warnings at the numerous railway/road crossings but no train is coming through that sand. Is this track old and unneeded? Why all the signage then? A desert mystery that is solved the following day.

Luderitz is a port and fishing town. The coast is jagged whitish rock and the Shark Island camping area is right on the edge of the water, with enough campsites for 50-60 groups of people. We are the only ones there. The Park manager says “Do you have a booking?” and it is all we can do not to laugh. Shark Island camp is not really an island, but it looks directly at the real Shark Island where the luckless Nama people (updated) were interned in concentration camp conditions after their futile effort to fight the colonizers.

The town we find charming, with colorful homes – green, orange, blue, yellow. turquoise – stacked up the short hillsides and standing out nicely against the whitish rock. Huge fishing trawlers are in harbor along with a couple of sea-going yachts. Buildings dating from the early 1900s show a German (my thought) or Dutch (Jim’s thought) influence, not especially in keeping with the southwest African coastal fishing village. Walking around we find the small museum – and what a find it is.

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