Footprints in the Sand E-Book

André Baganz

• Herausgeber: via tolino media
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

In Footprints in the Sand, embark on an unforgettable journey through one of Africa's most breathtaking landscapes. Follow the author as he recounts his transformative trip, inspired by a dream to connect with his roots. From the vibrant streets of Windhoek to the serene shores of Swakopmund, discover the rich culture and warm-hearted people of Namibia. As he navigates through stunning deserts, encounters majestic wildlife, and delves into the complexities of colonial history, the author reflects on themes of identity and belonging. With each experience, he grapples with the stark contrasts of beauty and inequality, ultimately questioning what it means to find a home. Join him as he weaves a tale of adventure, connection, and the possibility of a new life in this captivating land, where every mile reveals a deeper understanding of self and place. Footprints in the Sand is not just a travelogue; it’s an exploration of the heart, urging readers to dream and dare to discover their own paths.

Leseprobe

Footprints in the Sand

Exploring Namibia

André Baganz

Copyright © 2025 André Baganz

All rights reservedCover design by: Canva

Impressum

André Baganz c/o autorenglück.de

Franz-Mehring-Str. 15

01237 Dresden

Prologue

I clearly remember when I made the decision to fly to Namibia: It was on December 15, 2023, in Galway at a restaurant called Kai. My wife, Mags, and I were celebrating her birthday, her retirement, and our wedding anniversary with some friends and family. Mags' niece, Hollie, had recently gotten married and was sharing stories about her honeymoon in Tanzania. When I heard that, my long-held dream suddenly resurfaced. Oddly enough, I had completely pushed it aside over the past decades. It would occasionally flare up, like the time I had a Namibian in my taxi while driving in Cologne. The young man raved about his homeland and said it was just the right country for someone like me, referring to the fact that it's obvious to anyone that one of my parents is from Africa. He mentioned that Germans in Namibia are different from Germans in Germany—much more open, tolerant, and friendly. For this reason, he couldn't live in Germany permanently, even though it was, of course, a beautiful country.

I have no problems with my self-confidence, but the 63 years I’ve lived in my birth country taught me that I will never be anything other than an outsider there. For decades, it was difficult for me to reconcile my German mentality with my African appearance. The people affected, and only they, know what I’m talking about. Anyway, during our celebration at Kai, the desire to go to Namibia suddenly came rushing back. When I voiced it, Hollie was immediately enthusiastic and offered to organize the trip, as it was one of her hobbies. Meanwhile, Mags reacted skeptically, to put it mildly. Nonetheless, the idea stuck with me, and Mags and I even had a disagreement about it. Eventually, she relented, and we agreed that she would do it for my sake. While Hollie’s offer was on the table, I didn’t take her up on it because I can only enjoy my vacation if I've prepared it myself, especially since my priority has always been the people rather than the tourist attractions.

After the New Year, I got started on the planning. After careful research, we decided on a three-week stay in May. In this month, the temperatures in the country start to become bearable, and the flight is relatively inexpensive, as it’s not yet high season. Throughout January, February, and March, I spent every evening in front of my iPad planning the route. Initially, I considered a tour of the entire country, but after careful consideration, I decided against it since Namibia, at over 824,000 square kilometers, is larger than Germany and France combined. We would have only been able to stay one night at each stop and would have spent almost the entire time in the car. That didn’t feel like a vacation. So, I opted for a tour through the northern half of the country. That amounted to 3,000 kilometers, divided into ten moderate stages. I watched over 70 YouTube videos about Namibia and could hardly wait. Knowing Mags, I was confident that she would enjoy the trip in the end; she was just afraid of the unknown, as she had never been to an African country, unlike me.

What should one know about Namibia? While I was writing this book, I asked artificial intelligence this question. It responded as follows: "Namibia, a fascinating country in southern Africa, enchants visitors with its breathtaking diversity of landscapes, rich wildlife, and vibrant culture. This country, named after the Namib Desert, which stretches for about 1,200 kilometers, offers a unique combination of deserts, savannas, mountain ranges, and a captivating coastline along the Atlantic. Namibia is home to some of Africa’s most spectacular natural wonders, including the Etosha National Park, one of the continent’s largest and most diverse wildlife parks. Here, visitors can observe majestic elephants, lions, giraffes, rhinos, and a variety of other animals in their natural habitat. Namibia's culture is as diverse as its landscape. The people of Namibia come from various ethnic groups, including the Himba, Herero, San, and Nama. Their traditional ways of life, art, music, and dance contribute to the cultural richness of the country. Namibia is also known for its unique highlights, such as the red sand dunes of Sossusvlei, the Fish River Canyon—the second-largest canyon in the world—the historic coastal town of Swakopmund, and the unique rock paintings of the San in the Brandberg Mountains. The friendly people, the vastness of the landscape, and the unforgettable sunsets make Namibia an unparalleled travel destination that enchants visitors with its beauty and diversity. Immerse yourself in the world of Namibia and experience an adventure you will remember forever."

While AI provides a broad overview, it’s important to supplement it with some crucial facts. For instance, the AI failed to mention the Ovambo, the largest tribe in Namibia, which makes up about 50% of the population. This is a significant detail that should not be overlooked. Namibia, with a current population of about 3,000,000, is the second least densely populated independent country in the world, after Mongolia. Furthermore, the country faces severe social inequality and widespread poverty—realities that visitors should be aware of. Additionally, it's important to never take your belongings out of sight, or they will be gone. I'm far from disparaging Namibia; on the contrary, I love this fascinating country. But these are facts that one must know before flying there.

Namibia was a German colony from 1884 to 1915 and was known as "German South West Africa." During this time, the German colonial rulers established a strict regime over the land, leading to conflicts with the indigenous Namibians that culminated in the Herero and Nama uprisings from 1904 to 1908. Here’s a brief explanation: The Germans arrived with well diggers, bridge builders, and many other specialists in what was then South West Africa. They began buying more and more land from the locals, who thought they were getting a good deal. After all, what would they do with a dry piece of land where only a little grew when it rained, which wasn’t often? What they received from the Germans in return was seen as much more valuable. However, the Germans made the land arable; in other words, with well diggers and irrigation experts, they suddenly had land suitable for agriculture. Simultaneously, the locals began to question the contracts they had signed with them. After 120 German settlers were killed by Hereros, the German Schutztruppe retaliated mercilessly. This is, of course, a very simplified account, but it captures the essence. The fact is that the Germans exploited the locals to the bone and used them merely as cheap labor. From today’s perspective, one might well ask: What were the Germans even doing there? But we mustn’t forget that colonization was considered "normal" by the standards of the time and even viewed as a good deed. It’s also worth noting that the Germans are practically the only ones who acknowledge their colonial guilt and have paid reparations. That the money doesn’t reach the Hereros is a domestic Namibian issue. In any case, after World War I, Germany lost its colonies, including German South West Africa, due to the Treaty of Versailles. Namibia was then placed under South African mandate rule until it finally gained independence in 1990. The two countries remain closely connected to this day, as evidenced by the fact that the South African rand is accepted everywhere in Namibia as legal tender.

Joe’s Beerhouse

We left home at noon, even though our flight was scheduled for the evening. My excitement was simply too great. Mags remained reserved, putting on a brave face for my sake. We spent the afternoon at Frankfurt Airport. A friendly staff member there—somehow, I had the impression that the staff at Frankfurt Airport are much friendlier and more accommodating than those in Cologne/Bonn and Düsseldorf, from which we usually fly—advised us to head to Terminal 2, as it had the most shops and restaurants. We took his advice. In Terminal 2, we passed the time window shopping and visiting restaurants. By the way, the massive Frankfurt Airport is perfect for staying fit, as walking from one terminal to another easily covers a distance of one and a half kilometers. However, you can also take the SkyTrain.

We flew with Discover Airlines, a subsidiary of Lufthansa. The flight was supposed to take off at 9 PM, but the departure was delayed by 20 minutes. We could see our airplane through the large glass window from the waiting area. It had been ready since 8 PM but was not being loaded. I can only speculate about the reason; I assume it was because some passengers had items in their checked luggage that were either prohibited or needed clarification. I come to this conclusion because there were several announcements before boarding, asking specific passengers on our flight to "please proceed to the exit."

When we finally took off, the captain informed us that the flight would take approximately ten and a half hours. What I found particularly nice was that shortly after the conclusion of the Champions League semi-final between Paris Saint-Germain and Dortmund, he made the following announcement: "For everyone on board who is interested in football and supports German football, I have good news: The Champions League semi-final second leg has just ended, and I can inform you that Dortmund has won 1-0, just like in the first leg. They are now in the final." A cheer erupted on the airplane, which I estimated was about 80% filled with German tourists.

Aside from that, Mags and I didn't have the best memories of the flight. However, we have only ourselves to blame, as there was nothing wrong with the airline; the food was good, and the in-flight entertainment was also enjoyable. What we hadn't considered when booking was how uncomfortable the seats are in an Airbus A330 in the middle four-seat rows. That was where we were seated. I am 1.82 meters tall—not a giant—but I had absolutely no legroom. My knees pressed against the seat in front of me the entire time. Mags, who is quite small, had the legroom but still found it very uncomfortable because the seats were rather narrow. With this experience, we decided not to be stingy in that regard anymore. For the return flight, it doesn’t have to be Business Class, but there is something like Economy Plus. A seat in the more spacious window rows with a surcharge of €137 per person would make the long flight much more pleasant.

We probably had a tailwind because just before arrival, the captain informed us that we had made up 30 minutes and would land in Windhoek on time despite the late departure.

The last time I flew to an African country was in 1998. Upon landing, I noticed that not much had changed on the continent. In the 90s, I flew several times to Guinea and Liberia. Although these countries are in West Africa, I believe the impressions I gained there can be generalized. Everything was just as I remembered: an empty runway and the long walk from the airplane to the terminal, passing a line of security personnel. However, there was one difference: this time, all the security staff were female and, in some cases, extremely friendly. Then came the long wait at passport control and finally negotiating with the taxi drivers, which I could have avoided had I read the rental contract carefully. It stated that the airport transfer to the hotel was included in the price... Anyway, the videos that discussed prices agreed that a taxi ride from Windhoek Airport to the city center takes 45 minutes and costs 400 Namibian dollars, equivalent to €20. Other reports online confirmed this. When we were approached about needing a taxi, I said "yes," but asked about the price just to be safe. I was told that I would need to pay 600 N$ for a ride to the center, which is equivalent to €30. Of course, I understand that the locals should also benefit; they should earn money when I come as a tourist to their country. However, like everyone else, I also have to earn my money. I would never make a fuss over €2 or €3, but €10, which makes the difference, is clearly too much. I made that clear to the gentleman. He then replied that the 400 N$ was for one person. For two, it would be 800. However, he would kindly give me a discount of 200. Since I have experience in Africa, I am familiar with the African mentality. I politely told the man that it was too much for me and walked away. In the parking lot in front of the airport building, the next person approached us. "Yes, we need a taxi. How much?" – "600 N$." When I shook my head, he went down to 500. Now the price was €25. I accepted that. Of course, Moses, our driver, also received a reasonable tip. My point here is: In Africa, you should never accept the first price quoted. I would say the people there almost expect you to negotiate with them. While this bargaining may be distasteful to many Germans, it is customary in these countries. So, when in Rome, do as the Romans do!

For the first two nights, we booked a room at the Windhoek Gardens Boutique Hotel. According to their website, the city center could be reached on foot, which was our main criterion for selection. After our arrival at the hotel, we were, of course, dead tired, as we hadn’t slept a wink on the plane. However, 9:30 AM was too early for check-in. For a surcharge of €25, an early check-in was offered, which we gladly accepted. Now I want to mention another African peculiarity: breakfast was served until 9:30 AM. Even though it was already 9:45 AM after completing all the formalities, we still received breakfast, which was included in the early check-in price. I mean to say that in Africa, no matter where, they don't take time too seriously. In this case, it was definitely to our advantage.

When I asked the two ladies at the reception if we could walk to the city center, they strongly advised against it. We should rather take a taxi for the one-kilometer distance. I was surprised by this, as both online and in the many documentaries I had watched, it was repeatedly emphasized how safe a travel destination Namibia is. Therefore, I didn’t believe the women. When I sought a second opinion from a male employee, he said that this part of Windhoek was indeed safe. I planned to find out for myself after we took a few hours to rest.

I can say that it was indeed dangerous to walk the distance from our hotel to a shopping center called Wernhill Mall. But not because we encountered any criminals; rather, crossing the wide streets in Windhoek is quite an adventure. While there are some pedestrian traffic lights, they rarely turn green, and when they do, drivers practically ignore them. By walking, we came into contact with locals multiple times, all of whom were consistently friendly and helpful.

For the evening, we planned to spend the night at Joe’s Beerhouse, as this location was highly recommended in the many documentaries I had seen on YouTube. And I must say, we were not disappointed. When we asked at the reception in the afternoon if they could call us a taxi to Joe's, they informed us that the place had its own shuttle service. It was scheduled for 6:30 PM and was right on time. I mentioned earlier that in Africa, they don’t take timing too seriously. I must partially revise that statement because when it comes to making money, that’s not the case. On the contrary, then people are reliable and even punctual. The fare per trip was 50 N$, which is €2.50. When Ruben, the driver, dropped us off, he gave us his card: we should call if we wanted to return, and he would pick us up.

Joe’s Beerhouse is hard to describe. I would characterize it as a large, partially covered, extremely convoluted beer garden decorated with all sorts of items—jerseys of famous (German) football players, stuffed heads of hunted game, oryx horns, elephant tusks, pots, pans, and much more. There are two bars, one large and one small, where you can sit, with the bar stools amusingly resembling toilet seats. Otherwise, there are many tables where you can eat. While soft music plays in the background, you can watch sports events on two flat-screen TVs. In our case, it was the second Champions League semi-final between Real and Bayern. The sympathies of the guests were estimated to be about 80-20 in favor of Bayern, who unfortunately ended up losing. Throughout the evening, Mags and I had wonderful conversations with locals, both Black and White, from whom we learned a lot. Among others, we spoke with Pedri, who was born in Hamburg but had emigrated to Namibia with his parents at an early age. Pedri mentioned what he pays for a taxi when he takes one from his apartment near Joe's to the city center: 20 N$! Mags and I were speechless. "How come we’re paying a hundred?" Mags asked. – Pedri smiled. "You're tourists. Local taxis would never transport you for that price. T.I.A." T.I.A. stands for "this is Africa." Okay, I can understand and have said before: when we visit as "rich Europeans," the locals should at least benefit from it... As for the staff at Joe's, there is only one description: they were extremely friendly and accommodating. Our bartender, Thelma, was always there as soon as the glass was empty. Ruben picked us up around 11:30 PM and drove us back to the hotel. He told us a lot about Windhoek. He warned us not to get into a regular local taxi, as it was supposedly too dangerous for tourists. He also said that you could explore Windhoek completely by car in two and a half hours. This gave me the idea to book him for that very purpose but probably only on our last day.

The next morning, I received an email from our car rental company offering to pick us up from the airport. Melanie, the clerk, thought the day we would pick up the car was also our arrival day. I called her directly and scheduled an appointment for 11 AM. I wanted to check out the car and gather some additional information. We had Moses, who had given me his number, take us there, and the meeting ended with us purchasing additional windshield and tire insurance. We also completed all the paperwork so that everything would go faster the following day. Afterwards, Moses drove us to the largest shopping center in the city, the Grove Mall. This mall was just as impressive as the shopping center near our hotel that we had walked to the day before. One noticeable difference, though: Wernhill had 95% Black shoppers, while the Grove Mall had at least 50% White shoppers. Both malls, by the way, were packed. We had been taken there because we wanted to get a SIM card from the Namibian provider MTC. That went smoothly. I paid around €15 for 25 gigabytes of data. The card was valid for four weeks. I had brought along an old iPhone for this purpose. During the drive through the city, we repeatedly noticed how much emphasis is placed on security in Namibia. Almost every property was surrounded by fences or walls, often topped with barbed wire. It was also hard to overlook that there are jobs here that really shouldn't exist. For example, when leaving the parking deck in the Grove Mall, there was a man at the barrier who took the parking tickets from drivers and slid them into the slot for them. You could also see it this way: the service in Namibia is just incredible. At least as a tourist, you aren't expected to do anything yourself. Perhaps this is also why the number of employees is so high. I'm far from criticizing this—absolutely not. I just wanted to mention it because it stands out so much.

In the afternoon, Mags and I relaxed by the pool, and later we dined in the hotel restaurant. The food was excellent. I had a cordon bleu with seasonal vegetables, and Mags had mixed seafood with rice, along with drinks: I had a double Johnny Walker Black Label, and Mags had two glasses of South African red wine. All of that cost around €29. Oh, I almost forgot dessert! A waffle with two scoops of ice cream and chocolate sauce.

In the evening, we had another ride to Joe’s Beerhouse, where we met more interesting characters. When I heard two older Black men speaking German just a few meters away from me, I perked up. Shortly after, we struck up a conversation, which is pretty easy in Namibia, and I learned that the two were born in Magdeburg in East Germany. Their parents were diplomats from SWAPO. The liberation organization had a diplomatic representation in East Germany at that time. After the reunification, they had to leave the country almost overnight because the federal government did not grant SWAPO diplomatic status. Then we spoke with a boy whose parents came from Germany. He was the only White person among the staff. He had his left arm in a sling: "Accident while motocrossing," he said. "In that discipline, I’m the Namibian junior champion." He proudly showed us some photos on his phone. "Right now, I’m working here in the bar to earn some extra money. Later, I want to study in South Africa for three years and then go to Germany." I hope the dreams and plans of this likable young man come true. It was another wonderful evening at Joe’s Beerhouse.

The Crowbar Incident

Our Route

Finally! On the third day, the preliminaries came to an end, and our round trip began. However, I can already reveal that it started with significant initial difficulties. At 10:30 AM, we were picked up by the car rental's shuttle service from the hotel. The orientation there took about an hour. Afterwards, we planned to go to a gas station and then to the Grove Mall, about 2 kilometers away, to buy supplies for the next five days. I don’t know why, but on the way to the gas station, I took a wrong turn, ended up on some sort of highway, and had to drive for kilometers to turn around. The problem was that I couldn't take my eyes off the fuel gauge, as we had picked up the car, a Toyota Hilux, a two-door pickup with a rooftop tent, practically empty. Officially, there was only enough diesel in the tank to get to the next gas station. But we made it.

On the way back, we saw a Shell gas station, the Windhoek Fuel Center, and stopped there. As we drove onto the premises, we encountered a throng of gesticulating "fuel attendants" – three per pump, and there were ten of them. We were directed to a pump, I opened the fuel cap, and one of the guys filled our two 70-liter tanks. In the meantime, I chatted with a young man named Epson. He asked many questions, including why we hadn’t brought him any Euros. After that question, he laughed immediately, saying, "I’m just joking." However, Mags reached into her handbag and gave him a five-dollar bill to share with his colleagues. The young man thanked us warmly. Now that our "friendship" was established, Epson asked me if I could give him any leftover stuff when we returned after three weeks. Since I liked the kid and am always willing to help, I said yes. He gave me his number, and I called him from my "Namibian" phone to confirm that I had saved it: it rang. I felt good about the thought of being able to do a good deed upon our return.

From the gas station, we continued to the Grove Mall, which had also been recommended by the car rental. When I drove off at a green light to turn left into the shopping mall’s parking lot, the third mishap occurred: I had driven quite a bit in Ireland, where they also drive on the left, and to this day, I don’t understand how this could happen. I must have forgotten for a moment that I wasn't in Germany and drove straight into oncoming traffic. Thank God I managed to weave back onto the left lane unscathed through the incoming cars. Mags nearly had a heart attack.

Somehow, we ended up not at the Grove Mall, but at a shopping center called Hilltop. But for us, under the circumstances, it didn’t matter. Upon arriving at the parking deck, a young man, whose yellow vest identified him as security, literally danced us to our parking space. Mags and I got out and walked over to the Food Lovers Market. The young man gave me a thumbs-up, which I interpreted as our vehicle being in good hands, not considering that anything could happen amid the chaos there. How wrong I was! When we returned to our car after about an hour, I could already see from a distance that something was wrong. There was a huge gap between the opening rear window and the side wall of the pickup bed. I immediately opened the hatch and saw from the imprints that someone had tried to break into the back with a crowbar. I checked the other doors right away and, to my relief, found them locked and intact. So it had only been an attempt. However, the pickup bed was definitely damaged, and one side of the tailgate could no longer be locked. I waved over the security guys, who were chatting casually just a few meters away. They looked at the damage and assured me that it was no problem since there were cameras installed everywhere. I didn’t understand the logic. Later, it turned out that the person responsible for the CCTV was absent that day.

I called the car rental to report the damage and ask how I should proceed. I was told to come back, which I did. Upon arrival, they replaced the pickup bed. The guys took about three-quarters of an hour to do it. Now comes a side story that I must tell: When booking, I had asked Melanie for a so-called deluxe rooftop tent, which is 20 centimeters wider. She told me they didn’t have one, but they could borrow one from another car rental. When the guys had finished mounting the new bed and said they were done, I shook my head. "You need to take the rooftop tent off the old bed and mount it on the new one." The responsible mechanic then told me that all tents had the same dimensions. I told him about my deal with Melanie, but he stood firm. "I’m in charge of the rooftop tents and know for sure that we haven’t mounted a larger one anywhere." He proved this to me quite simply with a tape measure: both rooftop tents had exactly the same dimensions. I was somewhat disappointed with Mel, especially since she had assured me twice the day before that she’d gotten the deluxe tent. Unfortunately, I couldn’t confront her about it because she wasn’t in the office that day. Okay, there are worse things, but in hindsight, I can say that a wider tent would have indeed been better.

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