rafting to namibia
This past week at University of Cape Town was “study week,” a week allotted to all students after classes end to study for finals. Naturally, we figured we would get a lot more studying done rafting and camping on the Orange River, the river that divides South Africa from Namibia.
At 5:30am on Saturday, Pine, the owner of the guide company picked us up in his “bucky.” Taylor and I sat in the enclosed trunk of the car, don’t worry there were windows. It resembled a cell, den, whatever twist one might want to put on this hot, sweaty space that we rode in for eight hours both ways.
In between naps, every time I awoke on the ride was a different scenery. From wine country, to farm areas, the colours started getting more and more scarce, desert-mountains appeared slowly, and people became more and more scarce.
We arrived at the base camp to explore the orange river, sit in the sun and swim for hours before a camp fire and delicious braai. After the first night of sleeping under the breathtaking African stars, we were headed on our rafting trip down the river.
Our two leaders, John and Mark securely attached everything to the rafts, and we were off, paddling right and left down the river.
The landscape around the Orange River is so fascinating. Every different scene looks like the cover of National Geographic. The river is clear, mostly calm, with fish jumping and so many different types of birds that our leaders pointed out along the way. In the river, different rock formations with heart-shaped holes and waves imprinted in them. Next to the river, is green, lush vegetation, from tall reeds, to trees to flowers. But just beyond the green is brown, rocky desert mountains. You can almost see the lines when it changes from water, to green, to brown.
The second two days of the trip, I paddled in the back, the back paddler is the person who steers, lots of man power. I am so ripped now, gosh. I succeeded in this situation for the most part. Once, I drove Laura and I into some thorny trees, and managed to get stuck over a couple of rocks. Never fell out though, and gosh my muscles are ripped.
The most adrenaline provoking moment was when Taylor and I went through a rapid called “entry exam.” We hit a rock from the side and were stuck. All of the sudden water filled our boat completely, almost taking all the supplies out and through the rapid. We were told to sit still if we hit a rock, because otherwise we would flip the boat, fall out, and potentially get stuck under a rock, which would clearly not be a good plan. John came and tied the boat to a rock on the side so we managed to get some of the water out and step out of the boat. We were saved with our hearts pumping. We walked up the side of the river with the boat so we could ride through the rapid without hitting a rock.
We also went through rapids in what were called “nappy runs.” A nappy run is when we put our life vests over our legs, to look like a nappy (diaper), and ride down a rapid sans boat in “cocktail position,” feet up, hands out, head up. It took us a while to get out into the water for fear of hitting a rock and drowning, but once we pushed ourselves, it was completely worth it. We also did a cliff jump into the water, which was also quite a thrill.
At night, the boys cooked delicious meals for us over the fire, we told awful ghost stories, drank boxed wine, peed in the woods, and slept under the stars. We came back with many layers of dirt, almost dreaded hair, sunburns and bug bites, all the best parts of coming back from a camping trip, gotta feel accomplished am I right?
