Namibia
- 10 hours ago
- 1 min read
By Candace MacPhie
On the night train departing Windhoek, Namibia, my goal to sandboard the dunes in Swakopmund. The overhead lights in the two-car train are on high, a twenty-year-old movie’s blaring through the loudspeakers. I’m the only woman, traveling solo on this eight hour, four-hundred-kilometer trip. I’m responsible for me and plan to stay awake until we reached the coast.
I wake when the train stops. Daylight. Dang, I lost to the lull of the train. I search the skyline for Swakopmund’s famous cream and rose lighthouse. Nothing. I shrug on my backpack and step on the platform.
Walvis Bay
I flip through my travel guide. Walvis Bay—town south of my chosen destination. I drop my head. One year into my around the world backpacking adventure, you’d think I’d be an expert. Not so much.
The tourist office lady recommends I visit the tour company across the street. Because there are no buses. No trains for days. No way to reach my goal.
Losing confidence, I’ll ever find my way out of this town I lope into the shop. Mom and Pop—the owners, smirk at my story. Pop offers to drive me. I blink. Mouth gaping at his unexpected kindness. He races along the beach road, while pelicans swoop and dolphins play in the waves. Dropping me at the door of my hostel, waiting to ensure I’m comfortable.
Their generosity, and hospitality saw me to a safely to Swakopmund. I sandboarded later that day. And it was awesome.
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