Namibia – December 2018

Namibia is a very large country with very bad roads. It’s summer and we’re in an adventure truck with no air conditioning and I’m betting no shock absorbers. It’s been a long, hot, and bumpy ride from our supply stop in Springbok, South Africa, to our destination for the night, a camp on the banks of the Orange River. The accommodations are split into two sets, one along the river and one higher, overlooking the river. Our room number indicates we’re situated above the river, so after checking in we’re taken up to the start of the rooms overlooking the river.

We’re left to drag our bags along a dirt road to find our room. First problem is that, while our key has a room number on it, the rooms themselves appear to have names and not numbers. I then notice that if you go right up to the front door, there is a small number. After a few sightings of the small numbers, I notice the numbers are increasing. We start at ten and our room is seventeen, so it should just be a few rooms up. However, we run out of rooms after sixteen.

There appears to be a few more rooms beyond a pit with a very small path across it on one side. I leave my wife at room sixteen with our bags as I carefully make it across the pit and on to the other side. At first these rooms don’t appear to have numbers or names and I soon realize this is because they are not rooms but rather offices. So I make my way back along the narrow path along the pit and we start to walk back toward the reception area. Fortunately, someone else has just been driven up to their room and we inquire with the driver about our room. Oh, that’s along the river, we’re told, so it’s bags back in the van and a drive to the other set of rooms.

Now that I know where the numbers are, I see we’re starting with one. Not quite sure where seventeen is located considering ten through sixteen are on the other side of the property, but we keep at it. Five, six, seven, then seventeen. Of course, why didn’t I think of that? I’m thinking maybe it’s some sort of play on one plus seven makes eight until I notice that the next cabin is number eight. What sort of strange math is this?

It’s then that we notice our cabin appears to be twice the size of all the others we have passed. Turns out, we’re in the honeymoon suite, complete with a full sitting area inside and a very large patio outside overlooking the Orange River. I’m assuming now that it’s a recent addition and, as there wasn’t room after sixteen, it was placed where there was room between cabins seven and eight. Then I tell my analytical side to be quiet as I start to close the blinds of the windows that makeup three of the four walls so that the air conditioning can get to work. I want to make sure we’re refreshed for the sunset that should be spectacular from our private patio.

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A version of this travel tale was included in my collection, Can’t Get Here from There: Fifty Tales of Travel. Buy it on Amazon.

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