This time last year I was travelling through the desert regions of Namibia. Leaving the more fertile area of the Cape, we journeyed across long, dirt roads (I shall never complain about the Hertfordshire potholes again!), towards Windhoek and then the Skeleton Coast.

Once we had crossed the Orange River, we passed vast saltpans and desert, with only the occasional settlement. Some so-called towns were no more than a petrol station and a few shacks, yet children seemed to come from nowhere and crowd round our vehicle. Many were very poor and undernourished; in the more populated places, quite a few were street children with probably no parents.

Namibia is a country of cattle ranching and diamond mining, but it is still desperately poor and suffers corrupt government. The vast country has a population of only 2 million.

In the south we visited the magnificent Fish River Canyon, 160 Kilometres long and 27 wide.  Then, as we approached the central coast at Swakopmund, we saw the glorious sight of the red sand dunes, undulating patterns against a clear blue sky. Some were like small mountains.

Once we stopped to climb to the top of one; an exhausting exercise in the heat. Although it was nearly the African winter, it was still at times in the high 30s centigrade. Coming down the dunes was however “cool”: rolling and jumping in giant slow motion leaps into the soft sand, until we reached the bottom. We also walked to the spectacular valley of the dead trees. A
place once of lush forest and lake, now a desert with ancient trees fossilized into strange and wonderful shapes. On another occasion we went quad biking among the dunes and horse riding across the arid plains, with only snakes and lizards our companions.

We saw the ancient rock pictures, (carved not painted), and had a lesson on how to produce the glossal clicks of the local language, much to the amusement of our guide.

What a contrast to our green and pleasant land! This late May/June I hear the daily weather forecast bemoaning the rain. How awful it is that we cannot “escape” the showers. One Namibian farmer had only one short rain period in 15 seasons. What he would have given for a shower! It is said we may have a hot summer, but it will be as nothing compared to the Namib Desert. And if they cannot moan about the weather, our Press turn to politics and rail against our MPs and their expenses; now that the Recession has left the front pages.

I realise that it is important to have a critical attitude to things; I suppose it made our country what it is.  Yet how I long for just one moment of thankfulness; of positive appreciation; for the fertile land we live in, the immense relative material comfort we possess, a political and religious freedom, a stability so many peoples would envy. Perhaps it is time for me to return to the desert!

Chris Boulton