n. (corrupt. of Sp.: la cucaracha + –era/o): a Belgian-Filipino family of wanderers from a borough of New York City also known as Kings county on a year-plus long quest for warmth, food and culture throughout Africa and Asia.
Friday, June 17, 2011
They Got Game
9. Impala: grilled, bit too game-y for me
8. Crocodile: ribs were half-fish, half-chicken consistency, mild tasting
7. Kudu: sometimes game-y, sometimes not, best as a burger
6. Warthog: think roast pork, it's a hog after all.
5. Springbok: mostly smoked, like a charcuterie, often called carpaccio on a menu, good in a salad
4. Eland: just plain grilled over a wood fire
3. Zebra: had it at the famous Joe's Beerhouse, medium rare, melts in your mouth
2. Ostrich: the best in the Karoo and up there with their lamb, even better that it doesn't contain all that artery clogging bad stuff
1. Oryx: as good as a filet mignon, would raise them in the back yard if I could, they look as good as they taste
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Ovahimba

We were having some serious cultural withdrawal after being in the tribally rich West African countries who continue to live as they have for centuries. Here in the Southern part of Africa, you feel much more separated from the people. With tourism geared for Westerners, you will rarely find any local food on the menu and most of your interactions are minimal unless you organize a trip to a township. However, in the northwest region of Namibia, the you'll find the distinctive Himba going about their business in the supermarket and getting into vans to get back to their villages. These semi-nomadic pastoralists use every part of the cow - from the skirts that cover their nether regions to the butter-ochre mixture that covers their entire body. We stocked up to donate some dry goods as our admission into the village and went with a guide that was living in the town of Opuwo to get up close with the Himba. Shake a Himba's hand and you too will look like you're part of the iron rich earth of Namibia.



Monday, June 13, 2011
Ground Control To Major Tom
After vacillating between going and not going, wrecking our Honda Jazz (that's a whole other post), and getting a new all-wheel drive Subaru Forester delivered to our lodge, we finally made the trek through washed out roads, riverbed detours, gravel, more gravel and finally sand.
The aptly named Skeleton Coast was less balmy and beach-y and more like a space odyssey. If you ever wanted to be in Star Wars or walk on the moon, I can only imagine this is as close as you’ll get. Rounded blue-grey boulders sticking out of endless stretches of sand with the ship-wrecking ocean on one side and towering sand dunes on the other. Without the tire tracks, you wouldn't know where the road began or where it ended. This is one of the most inhospitable places in the world. Although there are some surprises on the desolate sandy road – the occasional springbok or oryx and a watering hole surrounded by the reeds, the greenest grass and the lone duck fishing for some lunch.
Boulder jumping
However unfriendly this place is for ships (and even much less swimming or sunbathing), many flock here for the fishing. Kabeljou (kob) and steenbras (pignose grunter) are two of the common fish caught in these waters. After meeting a group of hunters from France (who also were first time anglers), we decided to try our hand at fishing. Our less than enthusiastic guide, the cold, the fog, equipment that took forever to set up, and no catch did not make us new fans of fishing in the least bit.
South of the Skeleton Coast, but still part of the Namib desert are the equally otherworldly, enormous, rusty sand dunes of the Sossusvlei. Although usually depicted as a dry, clay-cracked pan, the copious rainfall has rendered the pan full and the dunes dotted with green.
On Big Mama's back
Climbing Dune 42
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Wilkommen bei Namibia

A fisherman told us that there are 2-3 people per square kilometer living in Namibia. When you drive through the country, it definitely feels like it. At times, hundreds of kilometers separate what could barely be called hamlets containing at the very least a petrol station. Their two biggest seaside towns ooze of German colonialism. At times, you forget you're in Namibia, hearing more German spoken than English or Afrikaans. We took a boat ride in Luderitz, lunched at the jetty in Swakopmund and visited the old diamond mining post turned ghost town of Kolmanskop.























