I am something of a novice when it comes to camping.  Glamping, yes; camping, no.  I was never a Brownie; never a Girl Guide; would have probably always dibbed when I should have dobbed, given half a chance.  So, what better place to lose my camping virginity than in the slightly outré location of the Quiver Tree Forest in southern Namibia.  Beats Cuffley Camp, surely.

The Garas Park Rest Camp was described as basic and rustic; generally lacking electricity and with simple ablution facilities.  I think that I would agree with all those adjectives.  I had also read that the campsite boasted some eccentric outsider art, sculptured from scrap materials.  That was also true: art so ‘outsider’ that it made you somewhat doubt the sanity of the creator.  What I had not read was that camping in Namibia in July is cold.  Nighttime temperatures were in the low single figures and, snuggled in my sleeping bag, I had to enhance my usual – skimpy – night attire, with a woolly hat and thick socks.

Another thing that I had not read about the Quiver Tree Forest campsite was that I would wake to one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen.  Spectacular does not even begin to cover it. 

The new sun’s rays fanned out across a vast landscape of earth and sky; the iconic quiver trees, stark, spiky silhouettes in the foreground.

I watched on as one of the camp’s resident two dogs chased a big hare amongst the scrub and rocks, its pursuit always a futile occupation from the start.

And then it was over.  The orange orb taking its rightful place in the morning sky, leaving me contemplating a campfire breakfast, having to pack up my tent, and the prospect of a quick shower under the ‘simple ablution facilities’ before I was on the road again.

© E. C. Glendenny

E. C. Glendenny could become a camping convert.