DAY 167: Water is precious in Namibia; most areas only get enough water in the rainy season to last the rest of the year. In fact, there were "Save Water" signs all over the backpackers in Windhoek -- draught is a pretty common thing. However, with an unusually long and wet rainy season in 2004, water flowed more than the country had seen in years. While this was good news for farmers, it wasn't necessarily good news for tourists unless they have a 4x4.

AFTER BREAKFAST AT SUNRISE, we packed up the tents, jumped in the 4x4 and headed off to the town of Keetmanshoop, populated mostly by the Nama people. It was here we experienced the "Nama supermarket experience" by buying the necessarily items we'd need for the next two days: fresh bread, Coca-Cola, brandy and lollipops. The lollipops, called Fizz Pops, are awesome in Namibia; you lick off a top layer and reveal a little crack in the pop, where you can suck out the sugary powder in the center. I had two in a row right away.

"The farmers must be happy," Samora said as we cruised southwest of Keetmanshoop on dirt roads to the Naute Dam in the middle of the desert. The dam was overflowing from the abundance of rain. Along with mining, tourism and fishing, farming was a major industry in Namibia -- an industry Samora was planning to go to after a couple more years in tourism. Whether or not the rains would be good in the future, we didn't know.

One tributary of the Fish River was overflowing with rainwater and had risen higher than normal -- inconveniently over one of the roads. Even in our 4x4 truck with a trailer hitch, the river crossing was questionable. Ben walked out to test the depth while other drivers on the other side did the same. It was a spectacle for the locals living nearby, who came to observe the highlight of the day. A little dog jumped in the river to paddle but was swept away by the current. Luckily a man saved it.

Samora turned the four-wheel-drive on and slowly crossed the river, which was about two-feet deep. Two cars on the other side decided not to risk it and went to look for a detour. Our driver told us it was probably just as bad at the other crossing and they'd probably have to wait a week before the water settled down.

WHILE THE TOURISTS CROSSING THE RIVER was the highlight of the day for locals, the highlight for us tourists was the local Fish River Canyon (picture above) where the Fish River also run through at an unseasonably high water level. At 27 km. wide, 160 km. long and 550 meters deep, it is the second largest canyon in the world after the Grand Canyon. We hiked the three kilometers along the rim to a lookout point where the trail head for the 85-km. hiking trail was, which was closed until the African winter. Hiking it requires a permit and medical certification anyway.

Ben and Karen took their time to look at the birds while I walked along with Samora, talking about American politics, McDonald's, and Samora's favorite contribution of American cuisine, Kentucky Fried Chicken. Amongst his favorite films in all of American cinema, he raved about Eddie Murphy's remake of The Nutty Professor. I told him he should check out Coming to America.

"What is there to see in America?" Samora asked me.

"Hmmm... there's the Grand Canyon," I said.

"If you ask a Namibian to see a canyon, they say, 'Why you want to show me a hole in the ground?'" he said. I suppose seeing Fish River Canyon almost weekly turns you away from big holes in the ground.

"Is New York a nice place to visit?" he asked me.

"Sure, New York's great."

Samora was happy he had finally met a young American on his tour that he could possibly visit one day. He knew if he visited the elderly Amercians he had met before, he'd probalby just get a tour of their house. I told him I'd probably be back in New York in March 2005 and that we should keep in contact via e-mail.

SPEAKING OF AMERICA, a hiker named Peter showed up to admire the view of the canyon at the lookout point. Originally from the suburbs of Albany, New York, he was studying abroad at the University of Stellenbosch outside of Cape Town, living in a big house with other Americans, Brits and Germans. I might have met him sooner if I hitched a ride with the two German girls I met during my first week in Cape Town; they were crashing at that house as well.

After a picnic lunch overlooking the grand Fish River Hole-In-The-Ground, the Chameleon quartet continued the way it came along the dirt road that led out of the national park. We stopped for fuel at a guesthouse in the middle of nowhere where we bumped into Peter again. In the rental car with him were some of his classmates from Stellenbosch, including Nina and Sarah, who were just waiting around until they saw me and my lollipop.

"Are you a guide?" Sarah asked.

"No, it's just a coincidence I'm wearing the same color shirt as the company," I answered wearing the dark green Windhoek Lager shirt I got free with my Namibian Breweries tour. (It was the same color as Samora's shirt.) I offered each of them a lollipop and soon we were all on our separate ways.

Our way ws inhibited by another river crossing, this one more difficult than the one that morning. With an appearance of being wider, deeper and stronger, we parked by the bank while Ben went to investigate. He was already thigh-deep in the muddy, coffee-colored waters even before reaching the middle with its stronger-looking current.

We debated on what to do. While the truck would have been heavy and powerful enough to weather the current, the trailer hitch behind wasn't. Samora went to go investigate himself, although very reluctantly -- he was a total hydrophobe that didn't know how to swim. The only way he would go was if Ben held his hand (literally) in the river. To keep his shorts dry, Ben simply stripped down to his underwear and led Samora into the river. Karen snapped a photo from the truck.

"That's one to show my mother."

THE ONLY WAY AROUND THE RIVER CROSSING was to literally go around it -- on a detour that would take one hour to get to the otherside. During that hour and a few others, I passed the time with my hand out the window making waves with the airstream.

After a stop in the town of Aus, the former German outpost in a unique geographic location that can experience the weather of all four seasons including snow, we pulled into our accommodations for the night, the nearby Klein-Aus Vista. This campground/lodging facility was nestled in the mountains where the British used the higher ground to fight the Germans in a territory battle during WWI. It was here that the British kept a prison camp where hundreds of German POWs were held. In the end, the British won the then South West African territory and handed it over to the South Africans.

With World War I long gone, the owners of Klein-Aus Vista handed over one of their guesthouses to us for a two-night rental. Secluded from the other houses and the campground via a dirt road, our house had beds, running water and solar-powered lamps, and it was a comfortable place to veg out for the night with pasta and brandy and Cokes. It might have not turned out to be as pleasant a night as it did; later we learned that it was fortunate for us we took the hour-long detour -- two vehicles had been swept away by the current.

If you enjoy this daily travel blog, please post a comment! Give me suggestions, send me on missions, let me know how things are going back home in the USA. Knowing that I have an audience will only force me to make this blog more entertaining as the days go by. Don´t forget to bookmark it and let a friend know!