May 2015: As part of a longer trip that involved South Africa-One of Africa’s Greatest National Parks and One of the Only Parks Where You Can Drive Your Own Vehicle Up to Wild African Animals, South Africa | Venture The Planet and Swaziland-Visiting Africa’s Last Monarchy and Getting Stuck in the Smallest Cave Tunnels I Have Ever Visited in My Travels, Swaziland | Venture The Planet, my girlfriend Paula and I spent eleven days exploring Namibia. Namibia is one of my favorite African countries because it offers a perfect mix of rugged wilderness, exotic landscapes, traditional tribes, and incredible wildlife—all of which can be experienced independently with your own vehicle. However, traveling here requires careful preparation, a bit of luck with tires and engines, and a sense of adventure.
Namibia also holds the bizarre distinction of being one of the few ex-German colonies in Africa. Even today, some coastal towns still bear the legacy of German influence, evident in place names, music, and food.
A quick visit wouldn’t do Namibia justice, so I planned our trip to maximize adventure while keeping costs low. We focused on the wild north, where most of the land is fenceless and tribal, and wildlife roams freely, not just inside reserves but also along the roads.
Paula and I rented a 4×4, packed our tent, and set off into some of the wildest parts of Africa—from Etosha National Park to northern Kaokoland, the Skeleton Coast, and the Namib Desert.
This is the story of our adventure.
My Itinerary
Our route in Namibia
Namibia Adventure Itinerary
Day 1
- Arrive: Windhoek, Namibia afternoon
- Pick up rental car
- Drive to: Etosha National Park (~5 hours)
- Camp: Etosha Safari Camp
Day 2
- Enter Etosha National Park
- Camp: Olifantsrus Campsite
Day 3
- Depart Etosha → Drive to Opuwo
- Camp: Opuwo Lodge Campground
Day 4
- Stay at Epupa Falls
- Camp: Epupa Camp
- Visit Himba villages
Day 5
- Drive to a Himba village
- Camp in the village
Day 6
- Drive to Damaraland
- Camp at Palmwag Lodge
- Track rhinos on foot
Day 7
- Drive through Skeleton Coast
- Via Springbokwasser Gate → Ugab River Gate
- Visit Cape Cross Seal Colony
- Stay: Hotel Cape Cross Lodge
Day 8
- Drive to Sossusvlei dunes
- Camp in the National Park
Day 9
- Explore Sossusvlei dunes
- Camp in the National Park
Day 10
- Scenic flight over the Namib Desert
- Stay: Hotel Africa Camp
Day 11
- Drive back to Windhoek
- Depart Windhoek: 4:35 PM
Etosha National Park
Paula and I flew into Namibia’s capital, Windhoek, from Swaziland via Johannesburg and picked up our rental car. Our first destination was Etosha National Park, an arid, wildlife-rich park known for its vast salt pans and seasonal rainwater pools that attract large concentrations of animals. Etosha has one of the largest populations of black rhinos, as does much of northern Namibia.
Etosha is a self-drive park, but its sandy roads can be treacherous, requiring both experience and preparation. From Windhoek, we drove straight to the gates of Etosha National Park, where we camped at Etosha Safari Camp.
Driving in Namibia is an adventure in itself—long, featureless stretches of road without towns or population centers. Staying alert is critical, especially on single-lane roads with two-way traffic, where the biggest hazards aren’t other vehicles but wildlife. I had to dodge more animals than cars, particularly at night when antelope would suddenly dart across the road in their apparent attempts at suicide.
Campsite in Etosha
Olifantsrus Campground
We camped at Olifantsrus on my birthday, a truly wild campsite with no barriers separating our tents from the surrounding wildlife. Located in the middle of nowhere, the campsite had only a handful of other visitors, adding to the raw, untamed atmosphere.
One Namibian man, camping with his family, was barbecuing wild antelope and wildebeest meat and generously shared it with us. That night, we walked to a hide overlooking a watering hole, where we watched the silhouettes of elephants and black rhinos drinking under the moonlight—a surreal and unforgettable experience.
The next day, we drove across the park, stopping at various watering holes to observe the wildlife. Unlike other more crowded safari destinations, Etosha felt incredibly wild, with few other visitors—a feeling I grew to love about Namibia. Along the way, we spotted elephants, antelope, zebras, jackals, and oryx, but unfortunately, no lions. At one watering hole, we heard that we had just missed a group of lions attacking a rhino, a dramatic event we could only imagine.
Jackel
Zebra
Jembuck
Elephant at a watering hole
Elephant at a watering hole
Watering hole
Antelope
Zebra at a watering hole
Kaokoland
After two nights of camping, Paula and I decided to splurge on a lodge outside of Opuwo. The only way to reach it was by driving a rough, rugged road, but the effort was well worth it. The lodge was pure heaven, and surprisingly affordable.
We stayed in a bungalow with air conditioning and a hot shower, a welcome luxury after days in the dust and heat. But the real highlights of our stay were the incredible meals, the infinity pool overlooking the vast plains, and the warm hospitality of the local staff. It was the perfect place to relax and recharge before continuing our journey into the wild.
Paula looking out from the Opuwo Lodge infinity Pool
After recharging at Opuwo Lodge, Paula and I stocked up on groceries in town, preparing for our journey north into Kaokoland. We knew the road ahead would be rough, and our plan to find a Himba camp to stay with was uncertain—we had no idea how we would make it happen.
Opuwo itself was a fascinating cultural crossroads, where topless, ochre-covered Himba pastoralists walked alongside Herero women dressed in massive Victorian-era gowns. The contrast was striking. The Herero population in northern Namibia is significant, and their history is deeply marked by tragedy. In the early 1900s, German colonial forces committed genocide against the Herero people, killing approximately 100,000.
As for their distinctive European-style clothing, one theory suggests it originated from German colonial wives. Allegedly, these women were jealous of the young, scantily dressed Herero women who attracted the attention of their German husbands. To counter this, they encouraged Herero women to adopt the modest, voluminous dresses and horned headpieces of European fashion. Strangely, the tradition stuck—Herero women still wear these elaborate garments today, long after German influence faded.
Herero lady
Paula and I grocery shopping for supplies before our road trip into Koakaland
Herero lady
From Opuwo, we drove for a few hours along the road to Epupa Falls. The landscape was stunning—rocky, arid terrain dotted with towering baobab trees. Along the way, we passed occasional Himba camps, taking note of a few where we might be able to stay later.
Our plan was to spend the first night at a campground near Epupa Falls, right on the banks of the Kunene River, which forms the natural border between Namibia and Angola.
Road to Epupu Falls
Epupa has very little infrastructure—just a few small lodges and campsites scattered along the river. It’s a wild and remote place, making it an ideal base for deeper exploration into Kaokoland. We camped for one night and hiked to see the waterfalls, reaching a viewpoint where we watched some of the largest crocodiles I’ve ever seen basking in the sun along the riverbanks. Across the Kunene River was Angola, but the only motorboat that once took tourists across the remote border for short visits was broken down and no longer operational.
To find a Himba camp where we could stay, I approached some Himba men walking along the road. After some searching, I found one who spoke English and claimed to be a guide. He seemed reputable and, for a fair price, agreed to take us to some villages and ask for permission to stay the night.
Paula by boabab tree on Kunene River
Camping on Kunene River but careful to not put the tent too close to the river because of crocodiles
Kunene River
Epupu Falls
Huge crocodile on Kunene River
Tranquil swimming pool on Kunene River
Camping with Himba Tribe
The Himba man we hired as our guide knew of a few remote camps off the main road that were rarely visited by tourists. He served as our translator and suggested that we bring a bag of rice, a small bag of sugar, and $20 as a gift for the village chief in exchange for our stay. We drove our own vehicle through the rugged terrain, searching for a suitable camp.
Our first stop was a Himba village where we spent a few hours, but we ultimately decided to continue on and find another place to spend the night. Eventually, we arrived at a camp that was everything we had hoped for—remote, welcoming, and authentic. No one asked for money, and everyone greeted us with curiosity and warmth. After presenting the food and money to the chief, I used my Polaroid camera to take photos, which I gave as gifts to the Himba. They were thrilled, holding up the images and watching their faces appear as the film developed.
Himba Camp
The Himba are fiercely traditional, maintaining their animistic beliefs and resisting conversion efforts by missionaries. They are semi-nomadic pastoralists, raising goats and some cattle, and their camps consist of huts enclosed by stick fences to protect against predators like leopards, hyenas, and lions. A sacred fire burns at the center of each village, never to be extinguished, and stepping over its protective stones is strictly forbidden. Each village is led by a chief, who may have multiple wives.
Women are adorned with intricate hairstyles and jewelry, their skin covered in a brown, bronze sheen from a mixture of butterfat and ochre, which they also apply to their hair. They wear goat-skin garments and often incorporate bones into their headdresses. Water is scarce and reserved for drinking, so instead of bathing, the Himba cleanse themselves using aromatic smoke.
Paula was warmly embraced by the Himba women, who were fascinated by her. The village’s openness toward sexuality was evident. At one point, after learning that Paula and I were together, a Himba woman openly asked if she could sleep with me. The chief also proposed an exchange—offering me one of his wives in return for a night with Paula. Later that night, we witnessed a man in a vehicle arrive at the village, disappearing into a hut with a Himba woman.
Paula and her Himba friends
Paula and I spent most of our time with a particularly friendly Himba woman who was fascinated by us. She was full of curiosity, asking about our lives and where we were from. When we told her we were from California, she paused for a moment, then asked with complete sincerity, “How long does it take to get to California by donkey?”
Friendly Himba lady
At night, most of the Himba went to bed early, as they had to wake before dawn to tend to their livestock or walk for hours to the nearest well to collect water. I sat on the outskirts of the camp, sipping some red wine and unwinding under the stars. After a while, I learned that the chief had banned alcohol in the village due to its harmful effects on the Himba people. Out of respect, I quietly put the bottle away.
Night time in camp
Himba children
Himba woman breastfeeding
Himba laughing at their polaroid photo I gave them
Proud Himba woman
The Himba chief told us that his brother had passed away, and as tradition dictated, he inherited his brother’s wife. He needed to travel to another village to attend his own wedding but required a significant number of goats and money for the ceremony. He asked us for a ride, and we agreed to let him sit in our vehicle. The strong body odor was overwhelming in the confined space, making the drive a challenge. Fortunately, after about 30 minutes, he decided to exit the vehicle on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, leaving us relieved but also amused by the unexpected turn of events.
Himba Chief with bow and arrow for hunting
Paula showing her photo of a Himba woman
Rings on ankles Indicative of being married
Himba girl
Himba girl
Himba Man
Himba girl
Himba girl
Damarland
From Opuwo, we drove south for hundreds of miles across endless deserted roads until we reached Damaraland, a wild and semi-arid region with dry vegetation and abundant wildlife, including black rhinos roaming outside of game reserves. The landscape felt vast and untamed, with rugged mountains and scattered acacia trees breaking up the desolate terrain.
We eventually arrived at a small community campground near Palmwag Lodge, where we set up camp for the night. The lodge served as a rare oasis in this remote region, offering basic amenities and a place to rest after the long, bumpy drive. That evening, we took the opportunity to repair some of our flat tires—an inevitable part of driving Namibia’s rough, unforgiving roads.
Giraffe on side of the road
We spotted plenty of wildlife along the way—ostrich, giraffe, antelope, and oryx—but the true highlight came when I saw a mother black rhino with her calf in the distance. Excited to get a better photo, I stepped about 100 yards away from the car, thinking I could move unnoticed.
I was wrong.
The mother rhino locked eyes with me, and within seconds, she charged. I swiftly returned to the car and out of danger.
Black rhino mother
This stretch of road gave us our first flat tire—and later, a second. Changing it under the scorching sun on a slight slope was a challenge, especially with a jack that was unfamiliar to us and an instruction manual written entirely in Japanese. Still, after some trial and error, we managed to get it done.
Once we reached a village, we immediately had the flat repaired, knowing we needed every available tire in working condition at all times. Along the way, we also came across other stranded travelers with broken-down vehicles and handed out water to those in need.
Skeleton Coast
The Skeleton Coast, a vast coastal desert with almost no vegetation, was a place I couldn’t miss. To enter, I had to check in with the ranger station and provide an estimated exit time. Only a couple of ranger vehicles patrol the road each day, so if a vehicle breaks down, the advice is clear—stay with the car, don’t wander off-road, and never attempt to drive off the marked paths, as the chances of being found again are slim.
One of the highlights was seeing the ancient Welwitschia plant. It’s not beautiful in a traditional sense, but it’s fascinating—growing in some of the most inhospitable terrain on Earth. These plants can live anywhere from 400 to 1,500 years and sustain their own micro-ecosystem, hosting endemic insects found nowhere else. We spotted a few, all of which looked wilted, though that’s simply their natural state due to the extreme lack of water.
The welwitschia has an estimated lifespan of between 400-1,500 years
Paula and I saw only about two other cars during our drive through the Skeleton Coast. It felt exactly like what you’d imagine the end of the world to be—lifeless, desolate, and eerie. Shipwrecks and abandoned mines were scattered across the barren landscape, adding to the post-apocalyptic atmosphere.
I made sure to drive slowly, avoiding any sudden swerves off the road, knowing that even a small mistake out here could be costly. I also packed far more water than we could ever hope to drink in a day—just in case.
Empty roads
Paula freezing in the whipping skeleton coast wind
Really old Shipwreck
Abandoned mine with hyena prints around it
Abandoned mine with hyena prints around it
Skeleton Coast
Skeleton Coast/Paula by our car
Paula alone in the desolation of the Skeleton Coast
Sand dunes of Skeleton Coast
One of the many shipwrecks of the Skeleton Coast
Animal bones in the Skeleton Coast
Despite being in the desert, the Skeleton Coast is not hot. The freezing Benguela Current, which originates off the Western Cape of Africa, keeps temperatures cool and the sky often cloudy. This nutrient-rich ocean current sustains an abundance of fish, attracting predators like the southern Cape fur seal, which thrives in massive colonies numbering in the thousands along the coast.
We walked among one of these colonies, and most of the seals paid us no mind—except for the occasional sassy one that would lunge forward as if to chase us away. These seals have to be tough, though, because jackals frequently prey on their pups. We saw plenty of jackal prints scattered among the seals, evidence of their nightly hunts.
The hardest part of the experience wasn’t the seals themselves, but the overwhelming stench of rotten fish from their excrement. It clung to the air, making it impossible to escape.
Massive Cape Fur Seal population
Massive Cape Fur Seal population
Pup seal
Namib Desert
We stayed in an old inn at Hotel Cape Cross, just outside the Skeleton Coast, before continuing our journey to one of the world’s oldest deserts—the Namib.
The best place to access the Namib Desert, and one of the only spots where we encountered other tourists in Namibia, was Sossusvlei. Even then, it was easy to escape the crowds by venturing into the towering sand dunes. We camped inside the park gates for a night to have early access to the dunes and reach them at sunrise.
At dawn, we hiked some of the tallest sand dunes in the world, their golden crests glowing in the morning light. We explored dry lake beds with ancient, petrified trees, their twisted forms standing like ghosts of a long-lost landscape. In this seemingly lifeless place, we came face to face with oryx—majestic, unicorn-like antelope—grazing on sparse tufts of grass growing improbably in the shifting sands.
Paula walking the Sassosvlei dunes
Sassosvlei dunes-Deadvlei that you can see Big Daddy Dune. At 1,066ft high
Sassosvlei dunes
Oryx at Sassosvlei dunes
Ancient dried lake bed with petrified forest
One of our favorite experiences was taking a sightseeing flight over the Namib Desert. From the air, we saw the vast expanse of dunes stretching endlessly toward the horizon, their windswept ridges forming mesmerizing patterns. The highlight of the flight was spotting a 100-year-old German shipwreck—once lost at sea but now stranded dozens of miles inland due to the shifting desert landscape. It was surreal to witness how the relentless sands of the Namib had swallowed the coastline, leaving the rusted remains of the ship as a haunting relic of time.
Namib Desert from small sightseeing Cessna Caravan Plane
Eduard Bohlen Shipwreck
Eduard Bohlen Shipwreck
Small fairy circles where nothing grows inside their circular boundaries. The reason is unknown.
After an unforgettable journey through Namibia, Paula and I spent our final night in the Namib Desert camping under the vast, star-filled sky. The next evening, we treated ourselves to a bit of comfort, staying in a cabin at Hotel Africa Camp, a lodge perched on the edge of the desert with sweeping views of the endless dunes. Watching the sunset paint the sand in shades of orange and red was the perfect way to end our adventure. The next morning, we made the long drive back to Windhoek, where we caught our flight home, carrying with us memories of Namibia’s raw beauty.
Paula looking out from the porch of our cabin in the Namib Desert