African life

African life gets used quickly. The thermometer displays 40 degrees. The heat successfully gets the pace out of our activities. Little comes out of our hands. During the morning, when it gets too hot at the campsite, we move to the couch in the relatively cool lounge by the bar. We work on the website, have lunch at the tent, then back to the lounge and end up with cold beer. Life is good.

Track and trace
The manager of the campsite comes to us on Sunday. 'Your site has been reserved by others for the next two days. The new place is free all week so you don't have to move every time you wait for the Express package. ' "Another week here?" We look at each other in alarm. We hoped to leave on Monday after receiving the fuses. So far, everyone is quite pessimistic about the speed of the NamPost delivery service, if the package arrives.

We keep control in our own hands, we decide tough and firm. We track the package and if necessary pick it up ourselves. The track and trace service on the Nampost site does not provide clarity about the delivery status, the package number is not recognized. The service employees of Nampost can only give the status of their own location, exactly what time the package arrived and was forwarded. I do. There is no alternative but to call from hub to hub where the package passes. "The envelope is here," the employee at the hub in Opuwo, 150 km away, confirms. "We don't send it to Sesfontein," he says resolutely. The hamlet at 13 km away from our Lodge. "Only if someone happens to take it", he confesses honestly. We leave nothing to chance, we have learned that by now. We report that we will immediately pass by the next morning.

Back and forth
Early Tuesday morning we pack our car and leave for Opuwo, almost three hours away. It is a beautiful road with a beautiful view. The city is dusty and crowded. Many Himbas, traditionally threshed, who want to sell their goods at the gas station or do some shopping in the supermarket. The post office is quickly found. We show the proof of shipment and the man walks back. He returns empty-handed. The package is no longer here. It was given to a Nampost employee in Sesfontein yesterday afternoon. We are speechless. There is nothing left for us to drip off again. The supermarket and the gas station provide us with supplies for the next six days in the remote North. We hurry back to Sesfontein for the closure of the post office. We can already see the envelope behind the counter. After we have paid the shipping costs, we are the lucky owners of many fuses. However, our integration into African life, which sometimes shows Western speeds, is clearly not yet complete.

We can finally leave for Kaokaland, we have been looking forward to this. One of the last abandoned areas of Africa. That probably also means that we can't keep up with the website that well.