rough guides, jumpers and outer mongolia

Okay, so post Windhoek we arrived in windy but sunny Swakopmund - the seaside town of Namibia, apparently 'more German' than Germany. Nevertheless it wasn't a bad place.

Accomodation for 4 nights was at The Alternative Space B&B. Aimed at yuppie upmarket professional backpackers, finally we'd found our niche in life. Owned by Frennus and Sybille (Sybil!) and decorated throughout by junk art, it was definitely, cue obvious line, an oasis in the desert.

Frennus kindly turned off the kids cartoons, let us watch CNN, and humoured us in our excitement for the annoucement that London had won the Olympics. Unfortunately he'd didn't totally complete the picture by making snide remarks about the French and Paris. Amazing how something that 24 hours previously you thought you weren't bothered about can cause such excitement and pride.

Come the next day and the opposite emotions. Driving back from town in a taxi, the other passenger (that we'd slightly unaccountably had to stop and pick up) turned and asked if we were from the UK. Yup, from London. Have you heard the news? Yup, cause we have, great isn't it, though we're worried it means higher taxes....

Sadly that wasn't the news. There's not much more that either of us can add. It was always going to be 'our' turn someday. At these times it is awful to be so far away. Namibian nightly news didn't exactly add much to our understanding (finally covering the story after news of a local buffalo epidemic and a hippo attack on an unfortunate woman).

We're obviously going to have to live with these idiots for the rest of our lives, but it's heartening to realise that the whole world out there thinks the same of them. Countless people have asked us where we are from and expressed their anger and sympathy to London.

Anyway, back in backpacker land, most of the time has been spent cavorting on sand dunes, first in Swakopmund, and then 450km away, in Sossousvlei. The latter are supposed to be the biggest sand dunes in the world, but frankly the former were more fun. There can be few better ways to end the day than watching the sunset, with a bottle of wine, totally alone on the sand.

As mentioned, not content with the sand dunes of Swakopmund, we hired a car and set off for the big ones. This involved 850km of gravel roads - not easy and made even more difficult by repeated dickheads driving past at about 400kph in their fancy 4 wheel drives spluttering up all manner of dust and rock. Still, it was the most incredible landscape and feeling of isolation.

We did our bit to make poverty history at Sossousvlei by paying $40 to sleep in our car in the car park outside the campsite ffs (that's US$ not Namibian). Clearly by the time we reached the car park where 2 wheel drives could go no further, and found out it was another $15 each (again US$ not Namibian) to get the shuttle bus the final 4km... it was time for Courtney to walk. And don't get me started on the 300% price increase in national park entry that came into effect 2 days before we showed up. Bob Geldof would be proud of us..

Which brings us back to Swakopmund and the prospect of 25 hours on a coach till we get to Cape Town. In between tea with Nelson, visiting Tabletop Mountain, and buying wine, the grand finale of the back gammon contest will be held. At one point this last few days, Ms Love had a seemingly unassiable 5 set lead. She was planning her victory parade and all this claptrap about how I had to make her a scroll. Thankfully as the score suggests, last night I was able to claw my way back to just a 2 set deficit, leaving the final denoument wide open. How she ever wins is frankly beyond me, she merely copies all my tactics and best moves.

Almost there guys, hang on in there, 328 days down, 8 days left before the triumphant 10 day homecoming tour of the UK.

And congratulations on the arrival of Molly Elizabeth Sharp. The budget was even relaxed to the extent that we could raise a glass in celebration..