A journey through Namibia

A sustainable perspective on travel & Namibia’s conservation efforts

Written by Nina Karnikowski


On my first afternoon in Namibia, I found myself standing in a cloud of sun-gilded dust, ice clinking in my gin and tonic, watching two baby white rhinos tussle just 20 metres away. It was the kind of moment African travel dreams are made of, and one that made me immediately understand why Namibia is such a magical and increasingly enticing destination for travellers…

Home to the world’s oldest desert and some of Earth’s most ancient nomadic tribes, Namibia has also been leading the way for conservation since gaining independence from South Africa in 1990. It was the first nation in the world to write environmental protection and conservation of natural resources into its constitution. This means community conservancies and privately- owned nature reserves – like the Zannier Reserve I was watching the rhinos in – now cover a sixth of the country, leading to growth in wildlife populations, local incomes and quality of life.

This conservation- and sustainability-focused approach was constantly apparent as I road- tripped through the northwest of the country, travelling for hours through unfurling melancholic landscapes that felt as though they belonged on another planet. Landscapes like the empty, lunar-like plains of Etosha National Park, where high levels of limestone and salt translate to a stark simplicity of colours – white earth, blue sky, the occasional black and white zigzag of a zebra, and the black puff of an ostrich. Or like the iron-rich ochre expanse of Damaraland, where we bumped along gravel roads, passing jagged shale mountains and remote mud-hut villages.

Damaraland is home to the Torra Conservancy, one of Namibia’s 86 self-governing conservancies, where all residents financially benefit from the tourism that happens inside it. Because of tourism, the 1200 people living inside Torra Conservancy now have electricity, water pumps and solar panels.

An inspiration for conservationists across Africa, I spent a few nights at Damaraland Camp, the first camp in Namibia to be owned and mostly operated by locals, with 45 per cent of the profits going back to the community.

Afternoons in Damaraland were spent hiking in the surrounding mountains, my boots crunching over lumps of glistening quartz, or heading out in a Jeep to search for desert- adapted elephants, whose numbers have increased several times over since the early ’90s thanks to the conservancy model. Afterwards, I slept under a blanket of thick stars, in one of the 10 thatched-roof khaki canvas tents.

The highlight of my Namibian road trip, however, was the Kaokoland Desert. Beautiful in that bleak and lonely way that seems uniquely Namibian, Kaokoland was filled with desert-adapted giraffes, lions and elephants, baobab trees, bushels of wild sage and giant termite mounds, and nomadic Himba tribal settlements.

I spent an unforgettable morning with the Himba, who have survived in this unforgiving landscape since the 16 th century by living off the land and the cattle and goats they herd. Hours drifted by as I talked to the women about their daily life and their children, their smoke bathing rituals and their use of otijze paste – a mixture of red ochre, butter and fat – to give their skin its distinctive red sheen and protect it against the sun.

Home in Kaokoland was Hoanib Valley Camp, where six sophisticated yet simple tented rooms were backed by soaring granite mountains and fronted by an empty plateau stretching out ahead towards the river. Hoanib Valley Camp is a joint venture between the Giraffe Conservation Foundation and the local community, who make up 90 per cent of staff, and is run 100 percent on solar power and river water.

On my final night, as I sat out under the Milky Way spraying silver across one of the clearest and darkest skies on the planet, I felt a sense of space and solitude I have rarely felt elsewhere on Earth. And as I looked back at camp and reflected on the journey so far, I couldn’t help but think: this is the kind of travel that just might change the world.

Nina Karnikowski

Having worked as a travel writer for the past decade, Nina Karnikowski is now on her greatest adventure yet: discovering more conscious ways of travelling and living. The author of Go Lightly, How to Travel Without Hurting the Planet and Make a Living Living Be Successful Doing What You Love, Nina works at the convergence of creativity and sustainability, and is dedicated to helping others explore less impactful ways of travelling and living. She also mentors writing students, and teaches regular writing and creativity workshops and courses, focused on deepening connections to Self and the Earth.

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