People come to Africa for all sorts
of reasons. Usually though it seems to be that they are searching for
something. Maybe Diamond Fever has taken hold and they seek the tantalising
touch of instant fortune. Or perhaps simply they look for a breathtaking landscape
or incredible game. Some search deeper, hoping to find something in one of the
world’s only remaining continents which still holds space to think. They come
looking for themselves.
Luderitz
is certainly one such place, without a doubt people travel here in full pursuit
of Something. Once upon a time, hordes of men flocked to Luderitz and turned to
madness searching for diamonds in our surrounding desert. Tourists fly here to
find the landscape and animals they came looking for, satisfied, they take
snapshots of their “Africa experience” and head home.
This
town is wrapped with spacious seas to the west and sparkling Sperrgebiet to the east. Stretching sands
uninterrupted for miles. You can breathe here. Space and stunning views
certainly big enough to both lose and find yourself at the same time.
People often ask me, “What brings you
here?” “Why come to Luderitz?” Or, “what are you hoping to find here?”
I am still looking for an answer to
that myself. If it was for fortune, I came to the wrong place.
Diamonds dried up long ago.
I’ve certainly uncovered incredible
landscapes and seen animals I never thought I would. But does that necessitate
a year here?
I think not.
If I came to find myself, I have not
succeeded. 6 months, 26 weeks and 182 days down, and I am already totally and
utterly lost to this place. I fear I will never be found.
This doesn’t worry me.
I came to Luderitz, to this windy
corner of the Namib, looking not for a quick fix of fortune or a glimse of
game, but simply in search of stories. I have already found some, I will make
some more and hopefully leave a few behind. The people I have met, places I
have visited and incidents that followed have begun to weave a rich tapestry of
tales. I know I’ll have plenty of stories to tell when I return to England in
August, but I want more.
With
half a year down and half a year still to go, the clock is ticking unforgiving
as ever. Over the next 6 months, 26 weeks and 182 days, as I lose myself more
and more in this windy town I want to do things and see things that are worth
writing down, passing on and remembering. I suppose what brings me here, the
thing I am looking for at present is an interesting past which I will enjoy
remembering in the future.
