Walvis Bay, Namibia

A pier lined with marble!

We are in Walvis Bay. Something I certainly had not even dreamed of after my school years. What will it have in store for us? Will it prove different from the general view that it is in an African country and therefore not as developed as the rest of the world? What can our visit show us?

As we step off the gangway we are confronted not by the heat but huge blocks lined up on both sides of the pier. It takes a few minutes for us to absorb the fact that these are blocks of marble each weighing at least 2 tons, ready to be hoisted onto ships for export to affluent nations. We can see the busy commercial port ( with a thriving fishing industry) much further. It is the year 2014, when the harbour has just begun constructing a container port on reclaimed land.

Sunny  but desolate

A 10 min risky walk amid the machinery on the pier takes us to the gates which will be locked overnight. The road that leads us to the 'city' is lined with sheets weighted down with wood craft of animals and masks - very attractive souvenirs. We walk past the vendors, who are not pesky at all, along the road that leads to the city centre. But where are the people? There seems to be a long rectangular building with rarely anyone entering or leaving. It appears to house a small convenience store within (no store front) and perhaps some other businesses. Should we enter to explore? No, we'd rather move along. 

Upscale but still 

Now we seem to be in a fashionable area. Houses are well laid out in a grid. What more they boast manicured and landscaped gardens. Even pine trees. Still, everything but the foliage seems to be still. The gardens are planted with succulents, desert flowers, waxy and fuzzy leaved plants etc. 

A church that was: the who, where and what

A little more wandering leads us to a small church in the distance set in a desert like surrounding. It's Walvis Bay’s oldest remaining building: the Rhenish Mission Church. I have since learnt that the building was prefabricated in Hamburg, Germany, and then reconstructed beside the harbour in 1880. It was consecrated the following year. It had to be relocated later( because the harbour had became heavily mechanised and therefore posed a risk),  to the present site in the mid-20th century.  It functioned as a church until 1966. 

We then come to a functioning unpretentious church with a mural depicting the 3 magi on a boat. Its the Dutch Reformed Mother Church with a fascinating history of Christianity in Africa with places of worship designated based on race and conversion.

Commercial buildings: What is a saree shop doing here?

As we approach the city centre we come across a home/ store (closed) that advertised Indian clothing at half price. Why is it not not open? We could have had a conversation with the proprietor.

And what is that attractive building with thick thatched roofs.? A restaurant. 

We begin to see more people movement  since we are now at a large grocery store with angled parking for customers.

Stirrings 

We have walked a long way but we are not at all sweaty in spite of the hot sun. We now approach a teenage crowd. These are students at the international school all looking very serious. Usually we stop to have conversations with students, but this time we don't. 

And then, again, we seem to be the only people walking along a huge expanse of lawn, punctuated by palm trees. A huge building looks rather inviting. As we walk towards it we realise it is a municipal building and attached to it is the city's  library. We love libraries. Librarians are usually well informed and gregarious. The librarian we meet here is no exception. She points to the little museum from where we learn a little of the history and geography of the area.

Now for the water front:  unhindered wilderness in an inhabited area

Satisfied that we've had a feel for the city we make our way back to the ship. After a quick lunch and some rest I think I should walk along the water front to the lagoon famed for its flamingoes. Its later in the day, closer to sun set and yet the esplanade is devoid of people. It gives me a sense of wilderness.

Chomping on an apple I walk for nearly an hour hoping to get to the reeds I'd seen from far away that mark the nature sanctuary. But it's getting darker and so I abort the attempt. Three, slightly pink pelicans, lined up below the oyster bar on stilts, calmly gaze at me as though consoling me.

 

The burning questions answered

The streets were quiet and the houses all shuttered. Why? Because of sandstorms, of course! In fact a locomotive stands unused at the station because sand storms cover tracks upsetting schedules and damaging equipment.

So, if I'd knocked on the door of the saree vendor someone would probably have opened it.

Where are the ship's passengers? Mostly on excursions to the lagoon for bird and marine animal watching, and to the sand dunes, or to the salt fields ( that supply 90% of south Africas needs) doing what is offered up for tourists.

A majority were busy sliding oysters into their mouths at the oyster bar.

Tourists did not swarm into the city or become a public nuisance as is wont to happen in major cities.

Swakopmund, Namibia

Expecting the unexpected

If our cruise ship had not overnighted in Walvis Bay, Namibia, we would never have known of Swarkopmond. Incredibly the biggest coastal town, a popular local and foreign tourist destination in Namibia, and yet we had been ignorant about it. One of the best things about cruising is docking in ports that are gateways to famous cities. Passengers generally tend to book excursions to places that are touted as attractions. Many a cruiser has lamented not exploring the immediate surroundings of the port. This was an occasion where the capital,  Winhoek, was too far away from the port to explore in a day. That means we get to see the side of Nambia that the ordinary 'have been to Namibia' tourist does not get to see.

Thin strip between desert and sea

Public transport between Wavis Bay and Swakopmund and within the town is practically non- existent. Hence we hire a van (driven by a Zambian woman working in Namibia)) for the  30 km drive on a highway with hardly any traffic. We are dumbfounded  by  the unique geographical features along the way. The edge of the Namib desert meets the right edge of the highway, while on the left is the Atlantic sea whose waters have formed a salt edge along the shore.  There are sub-urban settlements that seem like oases. One is a housing project and the other, closer to town, is the Swakopmund Municipal Camp with its distinctive A-shaped chalets, the mark of a beach resort. The town itself is an oases surrounded on three sides by the Namib Desert.

A well-ordered modernized town

Our driver drops us at the lighthouse around which is a lush park. The park is watered with treated waste water! It has everything one would expect in a park-- a promenade, shady copses, a play area, a variety of colourful decorative plants (some with leaves resembling  coins) and benches facing the sea, etc. 

The local flavour

As we walk around the lighthouse our eyes are treated to a zoo of sorts. Of course, these are sovenir shops with wood carvings of African fauna, all neatly laid out in rows. Again, as in Walvis bay , we are not harassed to buy. There is also a group of thatched huts. We almost dismiss them as shops before we realise that this is a set up by the powers that be. Topless natIve women are sitting around with their children engaged in traditional craft. It is quite obvious they are not too happy to have tourists gawking at them. 

History speaks volumes

Just behind the lighthouse that houses a museum is the State House. We know we're are already in the city when we are surrounded  by unmistakeable German colonial architecture. In the late 19th century  the coastal town was the main harbour for German South West Africa. Elegant church spires and dozens of homes with Tudor Revival facades and gingerbread trim line the streets. Most of these buildings were built as business centres in the 1910s. They have since  been repurposed, mostly into hotels, condos and museums. Bavarian bars and shops selling German goods reinforce the Germanness.

A  building stands out for its red sandstone foundation and yellow walls, pale green half-timbering, gables and a small tower sticking out from the roof. Who would have known that it was a prison! 

Another unassuming but beautiful pinkish building used to be the barracks.

More delights 

The town has a lot to divulge as we rove the lattice of streets and turn unexpected corners. No gutters. No drain pipes. No litter. Enticing boutiques and pastry shops. Attractive potted plants. Cool air.

Dune revelations

Our driver picks us up at the appointed time to drive us back to the port. We stop to get a feel of the dunes. It's amazing how the sand has different textures (at different stages of erosion), and takes on different shades.  The wind has sculpted ripples and waves on the slopes. The sand glitters and offers us glimpses of buried remains of desert fauna. The straggly brush that hold together the sand at different spots is unique to the Namib desert.

The Welwitschia plant has only two leathery, strap-shaped leaves that keep growing. They continue to be shredded by the elements lending them the look of a straggly bush. We may be on one of the oldest deserts on earth since these plants can survive for a 1000 years and more.

Geographical sense

Why are there no gutters and drainpipes?  There's hardly any rain, of course. When it does rain on the desert rivers flow. The water seeps into the ground.  The ephemeral rivers are  harnessed. But this supplies only half of the water needed. A desalination plant accounts for the other half,

Geographical surprise

You’ll notice that I'm wearing a jacket in a desert.  The proximity to the sea helps mitigate the temperatures.

The desert supplies moisture for the area in the form of fog that can reach as deep as 140 km.  When  heated air over desert land  blows towards the cool water currents in the Atlantic ocean it condenses and fog is formed.  It occurs early in the morning and late in the evening. The fog gives the town a fairytale look. It is said that fog occurs 300 days a year and sometimes hangs around for several days making the coast dangerous for sailing. 

For Namibians Swakopmund is equivalent to hill resorts for those living in hot climates.

 

 

 

 

 

Frenzy in Manila, Philippines

Fighting the fray

Swarmed by tuk-tuk drivers, we weave between their front wheels, flatten ourselves between the chassis, dodging laminated tour itineraries thrust into our faces. Enough to break into a sweat and swiftly make a u-turn back to the courtesies of the cruise ship. We are hounded every now and then  while we walk from the port all the way to the old city, Intra Muros, and from there to China Town.  A beggar tails us while crossing Jones Bridge, making it diffcult for us to appreciate the beauty of the wrought iron lampposts.

Calisthenic negotiation to a non event

We walk with slanting feet on the uneven pier walkway that slopes sideways, between yellow barred barriers that lead us into the hall that has copious seating but limited staff ( who turned up later than the passengers) at the information desk. Woe to the wheel-chaired, if not for the shuttle buses, which of course take you to Robinson Place , an upend mall all decorated and stocked for Christmas.

A Nail biting cool evening  

We brave a late evening walk taking advantage of the cooler air only to get glimpses of sights on the opposite side of the road, especially the beautifully lit fountain, obstructed by heavy vehicle truck traffic while inhaling poisonous fumes. 

It's all about strategy.

We hold our breath as we gingerly tread the crosswalk with faded lines and impatient drivers who will not stop for anything. What you do is wedge between vehicles on one lane and peek into the next watching the traffic move until someone slows enough for you to dart across. The truck on the next lane will probably stop, and you cross. The vehicle on this lane stops. You clear the lane. There's one more hurdle. The walkways are so high you have to make an effort to climb onto them. There is nothing to hold on to to swing yourself up. No wonder pedestrians simply cross the road whenever they feel they can weave and dodge trusting the wheels will  slow down.  Local pedestrians  are unencumbered while the vehicles nonchalantly  cause congestion, cough up smoke and blind with headlights. The novice will chew his nails off.

Go with the flow

Even more shocking , during the evening rush hour, vehicles with their blinding headlights on, tail each other. Motorbikes weave among the four lanes and when they find a ramp to the sidewalk, they drive onto it! . . . And continue to drive! When we are walking along the Boulevard beside the golf course the only light comes from these motorbikes coming against us forming 3 lanes. Ever so often we have to  jump aside and hope that we do not trip on the exposed roots of the huge trees. Capping this was the fact that a policeman on his bike was parked at one of the broader ramps and he didn't bat an eye. Perhaps this is how they deal with nasty snarls.

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Vina del Mar, Chile: far from coasting to the beach

Over the Andes to the Pacific coast

In Feb 2016, after our overland travels in Brazil and Argentina we fly from Buenos Aires  to Santiago,Chile. Having flown over the Alps and the Rockies , it is quite exciting to fly over yet another mountain range, the Andes, second only to the Himalayas. After a few days in the city we take a bus to Valparaiso where we would stay for a couple of days before embarking a cruise. Chilean inter-city buses are very professionally run. You have an assigned seat.  Your baggage is securely checked. Imagine an airline trip without the dehumanizing airport experience and long waiting lines. The bus ride of about two hours takes us over, between and around hills.

The first time we were in Valparaiso, a few months before (Dec 2015)we had checked out the whereabouts of our AirBnB apartment. We know the way from the bus interchange and so we roll and pull our bags all the way along the not so ideal path along the railway line towards the city centre, the landmarks being very familiar. 

Giving it a shot: in spite of warnings against muggings

On the second day, we decide to take a local bus for a sally into Vina del Mar. After some unproductive googling we decide to wing it. We would get on a bus very close to our accommodation.  The bus frequency is every 15 mins. Just 340 pesos each  should take us close to the beach for which Vina del Mar is famed. After some waiting the bus arrives. The driver indicates 400 pesos( except for our host no one has been able to communicate with us in English). We drop the coins in a receptacle and get a strip paper ticket. We drive off through the familiar streets with shops overflowing onto the street, and then up and down the various hills housing barrios, starkly showing the effects of frequent earthquakes.

It's more than 15 mins. We are still not at the beach. Passengers board and alight at the various stops. It's half an hour and still no sight of the sea side. We are climbing into the hills. We are driving into a terminus that looks isolated in spite of the numerous buses. The driver looks askance:  where do you want to go? Wrong bus. He advises us to get off and then get into another of the buses just leaving the terminus. That should take us close to the beach (as I understood from a smattering of Spanish and sign language). 

Sure enough, after a tense anticipation of about 10 mins we see a blue horizon and gleaming high rises that spoke of wealth. We surely must already be in Vina del Mar, and so we alight as soon as we see a bus stop. 

Actually, we are not really interested in spending the day on the beach.  Not in this hot steamy weather. Only to see why it is popular. We happen to have alighted in opulent surroundings filled with expensive looking high rises with manicured gardens and statuary, with nary a soul out and about in the surrounds. Perhaps it's too early in the day.

The avenues and boulevards are lined with palm trees and the grand looking distinctive native elephant foot tree. 

Of course, all these buildings have sea views. We realise the beach is not always sandy. Parts of it are strewn with rocks rhythmically pounded by forceful waves. They are red flagged. 

The beaches that intersperse the rocky protuberances are enticing with grainy white sand but the surf is something to contend with. Added to that the waters can be icy cold even in hot weather since the Peruvian current caused by cold streams from Antartica chases along the coast line. What a contradiction -- enchanting and torturous! 

As we walk along the esplanade towards Valparaiso we begin to see the stirrings of a city:  playgrounds, bungee jumping, water sports, food and drink stalls,  etc. The city takes on a more varied skyline. Imposing  edifices appear. Museums, monuments and colonial architecture greet the eye. The 3rd biggest city in Chile doesn't  disappoint.  Historical artifacts from a golden  age are aptly showcased in the old mansions of wealthy families. We are surprised to see a castle, Castillo Brunet, once a mansion. 

We stroll past the unmistakeable art deco style casino. The gardens around it are so well taken care of that it gave rise to the moniker Garden City. A little furthur is Castillo Wulff, built in Neo-Tudor style, with a turret along the shore with waves lashing it. We have passed the most lively part of the city with its thriving restaurants and bars. At this point we are at the palm tree lined estuary of the Marga Marga River  crossing the little bridges. The best place to watch the sun slipping into the horizon with all its twilight glory setting everything aglow.

We still haven't sighted the flower clock which I really want to see for it reminds me of the one we had in Singapore while I was growing up. But we have walked so far and Valparaiso is within sight. Are we going to miss the clock? Just as I was coming to terms with reality  I see the Sheraton looming in front of me. Sheraton would know. Surely someone there will speak English. I walk up to the security  hoping to go into the lobby for information. But I'm not a guest of the hotel and so I'm turned away, not in a huff but with a finger pointing towards the flower clock! And there it stood a few meters away on a sloping lawn made up of 16 thousand plants. Since 1962, when  it was built by the Swiss for the World Cup, it has been damaged by vandalism and a fallen tree. The mechanism had to be replaced. Now the works are based on a GPS system. That the city continues to maintain it at all costs reflects the value the citizens place on the iconic display.

We had already trudged nearly 8 kilometers from Las Salinas to the flower clock. Valparaiso is within sight.  It's a pleasant cool evening. Why not walk to our home? And so we hug the coast for nearly 10 kilometers stopping by or swinging down the Marinas, piers and the not so popular beaches, on an elevated highway  and then to the fish market .

Vina del mar lived up to its reputation. We had yet another adventure and a 18

 kilometer walk. A very satisfying day indeed.

But where are the "vineyards by the water"?