Travel and Adventure by Various Travel Authors

By Fyllis Hockman

They say it's hard to walk in another's footsteps, but those were exactly the instructions we received when we trekked along the ridge of an approximately 350-foot-high sand dune in Namibia. The old mountain-climbing adage applied here, as well: "The slower you go up the mountain, the faster you'll get there."

The country is located on the southwest coast of Africa and is named after The Namib, a 1,200-mile-long stretch of real estate where scorching desert in stunning contrast overlaps frigid sea, and water, wind, sand and sun play off each other to create a visual landscape that challenges the most versatile of photographers. The desert, home to the highest sand dunes in the world, parallels the Skeleton Coast, so named in honor of the many wrecked ships and sailors' lives lost over the centuries. It's also home to hundreds of thousands of seals, who, despite their close proximity, rarely climb the dunes.

Our sunrise ascent of the dunes, rust in color, smooth in texture, mountainous in size and other-worldly in nature, was part of many such excursions on our Overseas Adventure Travel tour, where the daily mantra of our guide, Bhavi, focused on learning and discovery.

First, from the summit we watched the early sunlight dancing on the dunes to the tune of orange, pink, tan, yellow and gray notes. Later, flying in a small plane above a wider panorama, the dunes more closely resembled frothy peaks of pink meringue covering the countryside. The sensuous gradations, indentations and undulations created by the shadows playing off those soft swirls of desert icing added as much to this visual feast as has the sweet geology of time.

My fellow travelers on the tour, all OAT veterans and intrepid adventurers, came to Namibia, in part, because it was virgin tourist territory. Mary Jo McDonald of Madison, Wis., touted the trip as "Exactly what I expected. It was full of adventure, exposure to underdeveloped areas with wildlife different from my other trips. I came primarily to see the dunes, and they didn't disappoint. I loved climbing them at sunrise and seeing them in such terrific light."

The first thing I noticed upon arrival at the Cape Cross Fur Seal Reserve, one of about 25 colonies along the Skeleton Coast and the only one accessible to the public, was a slightly pungent, acrid odor. That greeting was followed by a modest barking sound, the level of which increased as we approached. As the general din broke down into honking, wheezing, coughing, whining, braying, cackling and bleating, and the small black dots began to take shape as they lumbered across the rocks, I wondered how so many of the same species could make so many different sounds.

What first seemed like just a clamor then took on a more emotional content — sorrowful, belligerent, questioning, anxious, soulful. Considering their fierce existence — frigid waters, rocky shore, crowded conditions — I thought it was no wonder their cries were so mournful.

The throngs of thousands were animated. Some seals braved the rough waters of the Atlantic, others settled for sunbathing. Mothers tended to their pups, teens engaged in rough-and-tumble frolic, two bulls appeared to have words with each other. While I was mesmerized by the sea lions, the birdwatcher next to me was trying to determine whether it was a ruddy turnstone or an orange-legged ruff running along the surf.

I felt like a Peeping Tom overlooking massive gray communities of seals and stones merging together in a surreal setting. Outside one large boulder condo unit, a fiery male ferociously defended his territory. A little farther away, some parents and their children were out for a stroll — albeit a somewhat bumpy one. Down another rocky road a handsome young stud seemed to flirt with several females at once.

Our OAT guide, who didn't shy away from controversial topics, told us that clubbing of the young is still used as a means of depleting the number of seals, seen by fishermen as a threat to their livelihood. As evidence builds that it's more the humans than the seals who are responsible for the lower fish supply, it is hoped that the practice of culling will recede.

IF YOU GO

Because there's so much to see in an area the size of Texas and Louisiana combined, it's best to visit Namibia with a tour group. My trip with Overseas Adventure Travel demonstrated why it has been named one of the top three value adventure companies in the world. Groups are small, the hotels and game lodges where we stayed ranged from comfortable to luxurious, and our guides were excellent. I also like the fact that OAT undertakes charitable activities in countries in which it offers trips.

OAT offers land trips around the world, as well as small-ship cruises. Prices begin at $1,895 for a visit to Costa Rica. The 18-day Namibia trip starts at $4,995. For more information, visit www.oattravel.com or call 800-955-1925.

Fyllis Hockman is a freelance travel writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

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