The Breaking of the Fellowship

We wipe the sleep out of our eyes to take that last selfie with Sister Beate from the Christian campsite. Sleep was hard to come by last night. First there was the bright light we couldn’t turn off, then the sweaty heat and finally Lina went on a murderous rampage at 2am soaking her pillow in blood, yet still leaving two mosquitoes alive. It all fades into the background when we start cycling and realize that the tarmac is continuing after the town ends.

It’s an amazing feeling to have unambiguously solid road under our tires again. No more sudden skidding or shifting down to the lowest gear to stay in the saddle on a sandy stretch. Now we cruise along like rappers in a music video in their flashy tuned cars (if those rappers had to sweatily pedal the car in 45 degrees heat). We’re like the frog being tossed in water that is room temperature in the morning. Then the heat is slowly turned up over time to the point where the frog is boiling without noticing it.

We are now keenly aware of time. Ellie needs to be in Cape Town in less than three weeks and we have a canoeing trip starting on the 1st of Feb. So we pedal a little harder and do bigger days. Even Lina – who is usually the picture of mindfulness – now puts in her headphones and listens to podcasts on the less impressive stretches of road. The lack of days off is making itself known. Sometimes we almost nod off mid cycle and swerve into the road. But so far there has always been a pothole or a sympathetically loud honk from the truck drivers to jolt us awake again.

One fine noon we pull into the driveway of what can only be described as the lovely old couple from the movie Up! Wilna, Dries and their little dogs bound out of their house to greet us and Wilna installs us on the front porch with some homemade date bread and ice cold coke. In the evening 83 year old Dries takes us all for a bumpy 4×4 drive to see the canyon and the old German fort on their farm. Wilna and Ellie – the trucker babes – ride in the bed of the truck, despite Wilna’s back problems.

Every now and again Dries opens the window to shout some fact about the area to Wilna in Afrikaans. He wants to make sure we miss nothing and she translates for us. On the rough ride through a dry river bed the thorny bushes momentarily claim Ben’s hat (at least just that and not also an eye). Back at the house we are treated to a delicious braai (barbecue) and toasted sandwiches. Ben clams up when asked to say grace but Lina steps in valiantly with a speech about kind people and the stars.

In the morning Wilna adorably fusses over coffee and napkins and blushes as she apologizes for the lack of butter. In the meantime we have wolfed down our eggs on toast without a second glance at the margarine. She presents each of us with a fluffy crocheted hat perfect for the Namibian summer, then makes sure our bottles are filled with ice cold water while we discuss how to smuggle the dogs into the panniers and how easy it would be to adopt Wilna and Dries as our grandparents. When it’s time to leave we almost well up.

A theme over the last weeks has been ongoing trouble with Ellie’s rear tire. It’s often flat and unlike our tires Ellie’s are tubeless and it’s trickier to know what to do about persistent flats. We try everything under the sun, Ellie even gets a ride back into a bigger town to have a bike mechanic look at it. Yet still, the next morning comes the defeated “the tire is flat again.” Eventually she has to give in and put in an inner tube. The tubeless uncertainty is just too much to take until Cape Town. From then on it seems to be alright, so fingers crossed!

Our last day of cycling together is now approaching fast. We spend what little time we have left by feasting at a fast food chain called Wimpy and battling a camel spider (more a scorpion than a spider, but still gross). We treat ourselves to a night of AC and a home cooked meal at The White House Lodge (Namibia’s most whitest house). The next evening we compensate by camping in a roadside ditch. It’s quite fun flagging down trucks at twilight to beg for drinking water.

Once arrived at the border with South Africa it’s time to say goodbye. We toast to the high- and lowlights of our weeks together and play a last round of Uno. Lina grudgingly cedes victory to Ellie. It’s not that easy to find a travel buddy and we’re all glad it worked out. [The Breaking of the Fellowship theme starts playing in the background]. We hug a last goodbye and Ellie starts wheeling Shania Chain away.

We’ll, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the Orange river comes the end of our fellowship in Namibia. Go in peace! I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.