A week in The Land of The Brave - Namibia
- Tuba
- 5 days ago
- 9 min read
My toxic trait as a landlocked girly is that when I’m in a beach town, I want to book a place so close to the ocean that we’re at risk of being flooded at high tide 🤣
And because I’ve been such a good girl, it’s only right that I get what I want.
tl;dr: everything I did in Namibia
Flew into Windhoek after travel chaos and immediately refused to rest.
Toured Windhoek landmarks, including Christ Church and the Independence Memorial Museum.
Admired how mountainous Windhoek is and accidentally agreed to a hike.
Experienced a cultural moment with Aba Himba women in the city.
Did nightlife at The Village Garden, then switched to Katutura for something more local.
Got woken up at 7 a.m. for a surprise hike I did not consent to.
Hiked at Avis Dam and turned a planned 5 km walk into a 10 km adventure.
Enjoyed real Southern African ubuntu on the trails.
Shopped, ate, and lived my best Southern African mall life at The Grove.
Delivered a five-day workshop and somehow earned a standing ovation.
Celebrated with kapana in Katutura, complete with Fanta Orange and vetkoek.
Accidentally met Gazza while eating kapana.
Partied at Temperature Bar and Restaurant.
Took a shuttle from Windhoek to Swakopmund via Usakos.
Froze on arrival at the coast and immediately fell in love anyway.
Stayed right by the ocean at Beach View Apartments.
Walked along the Atlantic waiting for a photoshoot.
Did my first-ever quad biking experience in the dunes.
Shot professional travel photos in the sand with Black Pearl Discovery Tours.
Noted Namibia’s very serious weekend alcohol laws.
Slept early like a responsible adult.
Went on a freezing dolphin and whale boat cruise in Walvis Bay.
Saw whales, dolphins, seals, and a very bold pelican.
Ate oysters for the first time.
Drove through the dunes to Sandwich Harbour, where the ocean meets the desert.
Got mildly carsick but spiritually renewed.
Picnic-ed with travellers from Europe and reflected deeply.
Left Swakop, knowing Namibia and I are not done with each other yet.
Okay, now for the detailed story...
I thoroughly enjoy booking and planning my trips. I once toyed with the idea of being a travel agent, but I quickly realised that I only like planning trips for myself. I derive absolutely no pleasure from building fun itineraries and excursions if I don’t get to participate in said fun itineraries and excursions.
Namibia is not new to me. I’ve had family there for over 20 years and have visited multiple times. But this time, something shifted. I don’t know what it was, but I fell in utter, desperate, urgent love with the country. I could see her for all her beauty and her many faces. Namibia and I officially have unfinished business together, whatever that may be.
I had never been to Swakopmund or Walvis Bay, so when the opportunity to visit presented itself, I took it with both hands. I had a free weekend in Windhoek, followed by a busy week of work, and then another free weekend at the coast. Perfect.
I arrived in Windhoek on a Saturday after a hectic trip to Zimbabwe, during which my flight was moved to the next day with no prior notice. Naturally, I should have rested. Slept. Recovered. But my friend, who doubled as host and workmate, was like, “You will do no such thing.” So immediately after I landed, we made plans. He picked me up after I took a quick shower, and off we went to explore.
First stop: arguably Windhoek's most famous landmark, Christ Church (Christuskirche). Are you even in Windhoek if you’re not photographed there?
It’s beautifully located opposite the Independence Memorial Museum. While the museum itself was closed, we still went upstairs to the restaurant/bar, which has the most breathtaking 360‑degree views of the city. One thing that struck me immediately was how mountainous Windhoek is. I casually mentioned that I imagined going on a hike would be nice… unbeknownst to me, my friend took that comment very seriously. But more on that later.
At the entrance of the museum, we were lucky to find Aba Himba, one of Namibia’s most iconic Indigenous groups, recognisable by their red‑ochre skin, elaborate hairstyles, and immense cultural pride. Months later, when my best friend visited her husband in Namibia, she told me about her biggest cultural shock: seeing Himba women simply going about their day, topless. It was funny hearing her recount the moment, but it also reminded me how rich, diverse, and beautifully varied African cultures truly are.
Later that evening, we explored the nightlife, starting at The Village Garden, so full of expats and expat‑adjacent people that it reminded me of many places in Nairobi and Cape Town. We decided to switch things up and go somewhere more local, ending up in Tura (Katutura, if you want to sound like a tourist 🤣).
By the time I finally got into bed, it was around 1:00 AM. I was really looking forward to a lie‑in before a chilled shopping day. Alas. It was not to be.
My host had taken my off‑hand hiking comment seriously. At 7:00 AM, I was woken up by a loud knock at my door. I opened it, ready to fight someone, only to find a very polite receptionist apologising for waking me. Apparently, my "driver" had insisted I be woken up because I was late for a “meeting.” Confused, I checked my phone and found multiple missed calls blocked by my Do Not Disturb settings. I called my friend, who was now fast becoming my enemy, and he confirmed he was outside waiting for me so we could go hiking 🤦🏾♀️🤦🏾♀️.
Five minutes later, sunscreen applied, we were on the road. I was low‑key irritated until we got closer to the hiking trail, and the views started to open up. We hiked at Avis Dam, which was supposed to be a cute, one‑hour, 5‑kilometre walk. Ha! This man managed to get us lost, and we ended up doing 10 kilometres in three hours 🤣. To this day, I hold it over him.
I still thoroughly enjoyed that hike. What struck me most was how everyone greeted each other. Some even stopped for brief, polite conversations. That Southern African ubuntu is something I deeply miss in Nairobi. I instinctively greet people when walking in Karura Forest, but often they don’t return the greeting. This hike felt like a small but meaningful respite.
I should have napped after this, but I’d missed the Southern African shopping scene far too much. I went straight to The Grove Mall, browsed, window‑shopped, ate good, familiar food, then headed to another friend’s house for drinks and bites, staying up until 11 PM. One would think I wasn’t there to deliver a five‑day workshop starting the very next morning. Somehow, I powered through the week and even bagged a standing ovation for one of my sessions.
To celebrate, we went for kapana, and I think it’s my favourite expression of how Africans season meat and throw it on fire. Kapana is Namibia’s street‑food claim to fame. At its core, it’s grilled beef, chopped with knives on a wooden board over an open fire, eaten hot and smoky. I learnt it pairs exceptionally well with a cold Fanta Orange, their version of kachumbari and a vetkoek. Kapana is food, a place, and a verb. “Let’s go to Kapana” is a perfectly normal sentence in Namibia, and I loved saying it (we went to Kapana 3 times in one week).
This is something you cannot miss while in Windhoek. Head over to Single Quarters in Tura (Katutura), and you might even bump into a celebrity, like I did when I met Gazza, famous for his hit song Kick It.
By Friday, I was ready for another night out. My friends and I went to what quickly became a favourite of mine: Temperature Bar & Restaurant. The music was good, the drinks were cold (something you truly appreciate once you move to Kenya 🤣).
Swakopmund
Saturday came quickly, and it was time for my five‑hour drive to Swakopmund. The easiest way to get there is via shuttle, essentially a 12‑seater quantum that picks you up from your home or hotel in Windhoek and drops you off at your exact destination in Walvis Bay or Swakopmund. What a concept! I used McLune Shuttle (contact them via WhatsApp at +264 81 128 7916). They were extremely punctual, and the ride was clean and quiet. About three hours in, you stop at a place called Usakos, pay the driver in cash (N$300 as of August 2025), stock up on snacks (biltong is highly recommended), and use the bathroom.
Soon enough, I arrived in Swakopmund, and the cold hit immediately. Much colder than Windhoek, which was already touching 0°C in the mornings. Swakop is a quaint little town where Germany, the desert, and the Atlantic never quite finish negotiating with each other. It feels strangely frozen in time: compact and walkable, with neat streets, pastel buildings, balconies, cafés, slow rhythms, cake‑filled coffee displays, antique shops, tidy guesthouses, early evenings, and unmistakable German colonial architecture.
There’s something almost surreal about it. I kept saying it felt like I was living inside a storybook.
I arrived at my accommodation for the weekend, a beautiful two‑bedroom, two‑bathroom apartment with a balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. I stayed at Beach View Apartments, which I found on Booking.com. After changing into comfy clothes, I went for a walk along the ocean to wait for my photographer. The apartment was literally 100 metres from the beach.
The Atlantic Ocean was cold, angry, grey, and dreary, yet somehow magical and captivating. I walked for an hour before my photographer, Retha, of Black Pearl Discovery Tours, picked me up for our shoot. I’d decided we were doing something active: quad biking. It was my first time, and I was excited.
Retha is an absolute gem. She charges N$950 for her photography (as of August 2025). Because I wanted her to photograph me while quad biking, I paid for her tour too, N$700 per person for the 90‑minute experience; they also offer a 30‑minute tour (N$490 pp) and a 45‑minute tour (N$550 pp).
Quad biking was so much fun. I was scared at first, but quickly felt safe enough even to stand a little. After that, Retha worked her magic in the dunes.
After the shoot, she dropped me off at a mall to grab snacks. I found it hilarious that in Namibia, you can’t buy alcohol from a supermarket or liquor store after 13:00 on weekends. Imagine a country being so orderly. Ah, Namibia, my love.
That night, I had dinner alone and went to bed early, excited for the next day: a boat cruise.
I booked a combo with a tour company called Dune Safari, which included a dolphin cruise and a Sandwich Harbour tour. Sandwich Harbour is where the ocean meets the desert in the most spectacular way. I paid N$3,465 for a three‑hour boat cruise and a five‑hour dune tour plus professional pics. In hindsight, I should have stuck with Retha and just paid for her to join the tour because we had already established photographer-model chemistry, and I noticed my driver-cum-photographer was really more skilled at being an excellent tour guide.
I was picked up from my hotel in Swakop and driven to Walvis Bay, where the cruise started promptly at 8:30 AM, and it was freezing.
Walvis Bay
Thankfully, I’d packed my Euro‑trip layers, and my fleece‑lined windbreaker was a godsend. Highlights included seeing three whales, thousands of seals, dolphins, and a giant pelican that perched on our boat while passengers fed it fish. I admired from a safe distance because I like my fingers intact, and it looked like it could have bitten them off. I also tried oysters for the first time and loved them.
Next came the dune tour to Sandwich Harbour. My driver, Johann, fun fact: younger brother to the reigning Miss Namibia (as of August 2025), was a phenomenal driver and photographer. Unfortunately, the sharp dune angles made me very sick. Those eight oysters nearly made a reappearance. Worth it, though. At one point, we were driving with the desert on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other; utterly breathtaking.
At Sandwich Harbour, I paused to take it all in. My thoughts drifted to my dad, who loved hearing about my travels, and I made a mental note to call my mum later. Johann then took photos.
I hadn’t realised the tour included food. We stopped for a long picnic, shared stories with fellow travellers (mainly from France and Italy), and soaked it all in. I was the only African there...an observation that lingered with me.
As I packed up and headed back inland, I realised that what changed on this trip wasn’t Namibia, it was me (yes, yes! I know it's a cliche), but somewhere between Katutura nights, desert hikes, kapana smoke, and that cold, unforgiving Atlantic, something settled. Namibia stopped being a place I visited and became a place that spoke back. I don’t yet know what our unfinished business is, but I know this much: I will be back, not to tick boxes or chase highlights, but to listen more closely to whatever it is this country is now asking of me. In the meantime, I wear a band of the country's flag on my wrist to remind myself of the magic I experienced there.
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