The dirt roads have deteriorated badly and are almost unridable. We’re spending half the day pushing the bikes through thick sand or over large stones, and are averaging just 7km per hour – a full days ride is an exhausting 50km. We’ve both fallen off our bikes – Matt fell into sand and laughed; I fell into stones and cried.
We’ve camped at lodge campsites, at a petrol station, on someone’s farm, and in a dry riverbed (this must be one of the only countries in the world in which it is not stupid to camp in a riverbed). Last night the campsite was overlooking a waterhole and at dusk, as we drank a couple of windhoek lagers, we watched many springbok and gemsbok come to drink. It was magical, and I was happy that none of the hyenas or cheetahs turned up, as the locals tell us there are loads in the area. We’re both very disappointed, for entirely different reasons, to regularly turn down the offer of freshly shot game to buy for our dinner.