An Unforgettable Journey Through Southern Africa
From the Orange River to the Wildflowers of Namaqualand
If I had to choose just one trip, one itinerary that left a lasting mark on me, it would be this one: a wild and contrasting loop through the northwestern part of South Africa, southern Namibia, and the flower-filled shores of the West Coast.
It all began with a muffled roar — the Augrabies Falls. At that time of year, they were neither powerful nor spectacular, but they had a raw, almost lunar charm. Then, as often happens while traveling, the magic appeared where we least expected it: in Riemvasmaak, nestled among the sun-scorched rocks. Two natural pools, filled with emerald-hued hot water, were waiting for us. We were alone. Not a sound, except for the wind rustling through the cliffs. Suspended in time.
The road then led us to a place I long to return to: the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park. Here, borders fade — Namibia, Botswana, and South Africa meet in an endless ochre desert. The nights are sprinkled with stars, and the days, filled with wild encounters. That day, we saw cheetahs. Majestic, elusive, almost unreal.
Then came Namibia. From Mata-Mata, the Kalahari Desert stretches out endlessly. The deep red dunes ripple like a frozen sea. The dust, the silence, and that unique light... every moment felt like it belonged to another planet.
Further on, one of nature’s giants awaited us: the Fish River Canyon, the second-largest canyon in the world. It’s not just its size that impresses — it’s that dizzying, end-of-the-world feeling. We spent the night on its edge, in a lodge clinging to the cliffs: Fish River Lodge. The view is breathtaking. In the morning, mist clings to the walls. In the evening, the sky catches fire.
We then followed the winding course of the Orange River, the natural border between Namibia and South Africa. A peaceful river, ideal for a few days of kayaking — though this time, the water level didn’t allow it. I promised myself I’d return in October or November, when conditions are perfect for paddling along the meanders, guided by the laughter of children from nearby villages.
And then, like a floral finale, came the West Coast. It was Wild Flower season — that fleeting moment between August and September when the arid land explodes with vibrant color. Entire fields blanketed in yellow, orange, and violet. And among the blooms, springboks grazing peacefully, like a living painting.
We explored Namaqualand, took our time wandering through coastal villages, and enjoyed fresh fish tastings at Muishondskerm — a unique seaside restaurant. There’s no menu here. You share the day’s catch, feet in the sand, with the scent of woodfire and sea spray in the air. The village women cook with generosity, and conversations blend with the gentle sound of the waves. A simple yet deeply joyful moment.
As we made our way back toward Clanwilliam, mountains and valleys unfolded one after another — increasingly vast, increasingly spectacular. And then, slowly, we made our way back to Johannesburg. A long journey, yes, but perfect for letting the memories steep. For absorbing the beauty, the encounters, the sense of wonder.
This journey will remain etched in my memory. It embodies everything I love to share: Southern Africa in its raw, intimate, wild splendor. A land to explore slowly, with your heart wide open.
