Namibia: Top tips for a self-drive trip

Get your fill

As I discover for myself, rule two on a Namibia self-drive is to ensure clients carry enough water and fill the tank whenever they see a petrol station.

The day-long drive from the coast to Sossusvlei, site of arguably the world’s finest dune landscape, has only one fuel stop – two-thirds of the way there at Solitaire.

It offers a hotel, cafe and fine German bakery, a reminder of Namibia’s colonial past. This time there’s no petrol but we make it on one tank, and a chilly dawn next morning sees us anticipating a big treat as we enter the gates of Namib-Naukluft national park.

Inside, the 40-mile road to Sossusvlei is unexpectedly pristine tarmac and, at 6am, we are almost the only ones on it. We drive for an hour as the ochre dunes grow to huge proportions, making us feel increasingly small among the vastness of a landscape shared only with a few oryx.

For the last three miles, we swap our two-wheel drive for the park’s 4x4 shuttle that weaves through fine sand to Sossusvlei proper.

It’s high summer here, but the early-morning temperature is perfect as we climb hundreds of feet up the star dune.

We survey Deadvlei, once a riverbed but now a white clay pan. From up here, petrified 900-year-old camel thorn trees resemble pins in a map, and we race down to them ankle-deep in sand.

At the bottom, land and sky meld in a Technicolor mix of rusty orange, ultramarine blue and dazzling white, and I marvel at the spooky resemblance of several wizened trees to prehistoric creatures.

Animal magic

The temperature climbs as we drive back at midday to Desert Quiver Camp’s dinky bungalows, our home for three nights.

That evening as we barbecue, a bison lumbers past, a wildcat scuttles through the shadows and a lone oryx appears.

As the sky darkens, the absence of light pollution means we see the smudge of the Milky Way above us among an array of constellations; it’s a celestial vista so vast it’s humbling.

Next day, on the drive back, we spy giraffe and zebra eyeing us nervously from the roadside. This part of Namibia is not really about wildlife viewing and it’s yet another bonus.

As we reach the coast the roads become tarmac again and the sand turns more yellow.

After Sossusvlei, it’s almost a disappointment, but near Walvis Bay airport we see Dune 7, the country’s highest at more than 365 metres (1,200 feet).

It’s a landscape that keeps on giving.

We stay in Swakopmund; the nearest thing Namibia has to a conventional beach resort and the preferred option to the nearby industrial port of Walvis Bay.

Swakopmund is the base for soft adventure and 4x4 tours, and we take one along a restricted beach to the marine sanctuary of Sandwich Harbour, spying pelicans, flamingos and a jackal.

Here, our Land Rover has to be dug out of the sand; we’re told it’s the first time in six months that it’s happened, but serves as a reminder that off-roading is best left to experts.

The finish line

Back in our own car the next day, we head north to Cape Cross where we approach a heaving black mass that is actually thousands of Cape fur seals.

For an unknown reason, they pick this one spot among hundreds of miles of barren coast to gather, emitting a noise and odour that stays with you.

Our final stop, after a five-hour drive inland, is Windhoek – not one of the world’s must-see capitals. Here, we drop off the Rav 4, having been reluctant to negotiate city traffic, but then discover there isn’t any and that the airport is 28 miles away.

It’s a muted finale to our trip, but on our last night we redeem it with drinks on the terrace at the Hotel Heinitzburg, a restored castle built by a German Count high on a hill. Below it, the city sparkles and, like much of Namibia, the view excels.