In Memoriam: Tony Copple
Turn right for Fish River Canyon - full story below
Thu Dec 19, one more traumatic day with the Copples
Today may have been our last in Namibia, but it was the day we visited one of Namibia's most significant and popular attractions, the Fish River Canyon. Maps we had seen suggested there were two routes from Keetmanshoop, a shorter one on a gravel road, or a slightly longer one, via the B1, the road to South Africa. We had GPS coordinates from a Wikipedia site, and they suggested we take the latter. After two hours driving there is a road going East, the C12, signposted to the Fish River Canyon, 90 Km. In retrospect I think this is the point from which the map we found started. It was a good quality gravel road allowing 100 K/Hr. Every half mile Garmin wanted us to turn off the C12 on to non existent roads into the desert. Maybe the co-ordinates were wrong. After a while we noticed a rail line on our left following the road. A while later we saw a freight train approaching slowly and photographed it. It was probably designed to bring minerals from a mine. We continued on after crossing the line, and 20 minutes later reached the Canyon Roadhouse. This was an unexpected oasis, but the founders must have realized that hungry tourists on their way to the canyon might represent a good income stream. It is a very unusual place, and reminded me a little of Solitaire. I had an oryx biltong salad and L-A had oryx stew. We swapped half way through. We continued on our way for 10 minutes and reached the place to pay an entrance fee for the lookout: $N 130. There were still 10 Km. to go, and the road for this final section switched abruptly to rutted gravel which shook the Toyota cruelly. As we got closer to the look-out, we could see no signs of any canyon. We parked, and I checked the GPS co-ordinates. Only the first three numbers were correct! The correct coordinates are S 27 58 9293 E 017 59 7587. There is a moral here - don't assume GPS co-ordinates have been taken by people who know how to do it. Laurie-Ann had already walked into the lookout. After a ramp up to the front, there it was right in front of us, the epicentre of a huge canyon. It was breathtaking, all the more so because I had previously seen no pictures of it. You can see ours here. We remained in photographic mode with the SLR and iPad for 30 minutes. The light was perfect. Later I read up on the Fish River Canyon and discovered it stretched over 100 Km. To continue on our journey re retraced our route since the turning on the B1. From then on it was South Africa here we come. This had Laurie-Ann thinking about passports and I got them out so they would be handy at the border. L-A looked through hers to see the Namibian stamp. She looked several times but couldn't see it. Maybe it is very small. I said that not all immigration points stamp all passports. I remember in my youth having to beg immigration officers to give me a stamp. South Africa at the Vioolsdrift border is a range of mountains, most impressive to visitors. Soon we were presenting our papers, and at the second window our passports. The lady looked through them both. Then she looked at me. She said there were no Namibian stamps; how had we entered the country? I showed her the road fund invoice, as proof we had been through here 10 days ago. When I had got into that line up, I had never heard of the Namibian road fund charge for immigrants. I had assumed that when they looked at our passports they would have stamped them. It now appeared that the road fund people were unconcerned about passport stamping. The immigration officer said that Africa is not like Europe, where your every step is controlled by signs and foolproof methods to stop you ending up on the duty free side rather than the external side and vice-versa. She said that here it was up to travellers to visit customs, then immigration, without being frogmarched. What I had done was not very intelligent, is what she was saying. Then she said we had been illegal aliens in Namibia for 10 days. This had me expecting a police presence any moment. I said "What do we do?" She said, "You won't have a Namibian stamp." This was something I could live with. I got to keep my applications for re-entry forms as souvenirs of our transgression. I returned to the car, and told Laurie-Ann she was quite right. Then I sent a small thank you to The Lord that the matter had only arisen now, or we might have spent days worrying. I also thanked Him that we were not arrested in Namibia and asked to present our passports. We proceeded through the rest of the immigration points without issues, and very soon were legal in South Africa. It felt good! We had about an hour's drive to Springbok through beautiful mountains and valleys in daylight; on our outward trip it had been dark. We checked in the Blue Diamond Lodge, more like a botanical garden than a guest house. I was able to use a communal microwave to heat up the last of the mince stir fry.
Turn right for Fish River Canyon - full story below
Thu Dec 19, one more traumatic day with the Copples
Today may have been our last in Namibia, but it was the day we visited one of Namibia's most significant and popular attractions, the Fish River Canyon. Maps we had seen suggested there were two routes from Keetmanshoop, a shorter one on a gravel road, or a slightly longer one, via the B1, the road to South Africa. We had GPS coordinates from a Wikipedia site, and they suggested we take the latter. After two hours driving there is a road going East, the C12, signposted to the Fish River Canyon, 90 Km. In retrospect I think this is the point from which the map we found started. It was a good quality gravel road allowing 100 K/Hr. Every half mile Garmin wanted us to turn off the C12 on to non existent roads into the desert. Maybe the co-ordinates were wrong. After a while we noticed a rail line on our left following the road. A while later we saw a freight train approaching slowly and photographed it. It was probably designed to bring minerals from a mine. We continued on after crossing the line, and 20 minutes later reached the Canyon Roadhouse. This was an unexpected oasis, but the founders must have realized that hungry tourists on their way to the canyon might represent a good income stream. It is a very unusual place, and reminded me a little of Solitaire. I had an oryx biltong salad and L-A had oryx stew. We swapped half way through. We continued on our way for 10 minutes and reached the place to pay an entrance fee for the lookout: $N 130. There were still 10 Km. to go, and the road for this final section switched abruptly to rutted gravel which shook the Toyota cruelly. As we got closer to the look-out, we could see no signs of any canyon. We parked, and I checked the GPS co-ordinates. Only the first three numbers were correct! The correct coordinates are S 27 58 9293 E 017 59 7587. There is a moral here - don't assume GPS co-ordinates have been taken by people who know how to do it. Laurie-Ann had already walked into the lookout. After a ramp up to the front, there it was right in front of us, the epicentre of a huge canyon. It was breathtaking, all the more so because I had previously seen no pictures of it. You can see ours here. We remained in photographic mode with the SLR and iPad for 30 minutes. The light was perfect. Later I read up on the Fish River Canyon and discovered it stretched over 100 Km. To continue on our journey re retraced our route since the turning on the B1. From then on it was South Africa here we come. This had Laurie-Ann thinking about passports and I got them out so they would be handy at the border. L-A looked through hers to see the Namibian stamp. She looked several times but couldn't see it. Maybe it is very small. I said that not all immigration points stamp all passports. I remember in my youth having to beg immigration officers to give me a stamp. South Africa at the Vioolsdrift border is a range of mountains, most impressive to visitors. Soon we were presenting our papers, and at the second window our passports. The lady looked through them both. Then she looked at me. She said there were no Namibian stamps; how had we entered the country? I showed her the road fund invoice, as proof we had been through here 10 days ago. When I had got into that line up, I had never heard of the Namibian road fund charge for immigrants. I had assumed that when they looked at our passports they would have stamped them. It now appeared that the road fund people were unconcerned about passport stamping. The immigration officer said that Africa is not like Europe, where your every step is controlled by signs and foolproof methods to stop you ending up on the duty free side rather than the external side and vice-versa. She said that here it was up to travellers to visit customs, then immigration, without being frogmarched. What I had done was not very intelligent, is what she was saying. Then she said we had been illegal aliens in Namibia for 10 days. This had me expecting a police presence any moment. I said "What do we do?" She said, "You won't have a Namibian stamp." This was something I could live with. I got to keep my applications for re-entry forms as souvenirs of our transgression. I returned to the car, and told Laurie-Ann she was quite right. Then I sent a small thank you to The Lord that the matter had only arisen now, or we might have spent days worrying. I also thanked Him that we were not arrested in Namibia and asked to present our passports. We proceeded through the rest of the immigration points without issues, and very soon were legal in South Africa. It felt good! We had about an hour's drive to Springbok through beautiful mountains and valleys in daylight; on our outward trip it had been dark. We checked in the Blue Diamond Lodge, more like a botanical garden than a guest house. I was able to use a communal microwave to heat up the last of the mince stir fry.