Can You Drive a Ford Fiesta Through a Desert?
Iām flying down the B1 highway from Windhoek to Keetmanshoop with a map and a boot full of camping gear. Iām excited for the first stop of my Namibian road trip: the Quiver Tree Forest. I spot the sign and turn onto the C17, off the tarmac and onto the gravel. Iāll be there soon; itās only ten miles or so. I am unprepared for what comes next. The car slides and slips across the road. I am not fully in control anymore. I slow to a crawl. The car judders and shudders, the noise deafening, the vibrations rattling the teeth in my skull. It takes me around an hour to drive the ten miles. I arrive at the campsite relieved to be in one piece, even if it feels like all my bones have been shaken slightly out of place. I will later learn that this is what happens when the gravel road becomes ācorrugatedā, and that the roads authority goes round once a week to āgradeā them. Seems I arrived about 6 days after the grader had last been round.
Comments (2)
This was an amazing poem. Loved it!
A stunning write. Well done https://vocal.media/fiction/a-horrific-bus-stop