The postcard panorama unfolding at the lookout point at Hobas is one of Namibia’s most famous sights. From up there the Fish River seems formidable and aloof. If you want to experience the canyon’s uniqueness at close range you first have to climb down 550 metres and then hike 85 kilometres to Ai Ais. Five days later the head feels clear and the toenails are bloody from all the walking.
A nature conservation official collects our hiking permits with Namibian stoicism. We, on the other hand, just want to get going as quickly as possible. The spot where you descend into the canyon is about 10 kilometres from Hobas. From there the Fish River meanders to Ai Ais, covering a distance of 85 kilometres. Over millions of years a gorge with a depth of up to 550 metres had been cut into the rock by masses of water and tectonic movements. This is an advantage for hikers who are still gathering experience: you cannot lose your way as long as you follow the course of the river.
The descent into the riverbed is regarded as the most challenging part of the canyon hike. The path is utterly steep in places and littered with loose rubble. Chains to hold onto have been put up by Nature Conservation in particularly dangerous sections, but at times we are nevertheless forced to our knees, or onto our backsides.
By midday we have made it to the bottom of the gorge and rest in the shade of large rocks to recover our strength. The sun is beating down relentlessly, and even though a cold front from the south is moving across the country it is scorching hot in the canyon. We are merely at the start of the 85-km-hike but we have already finished the first lot of water bottles. It doesn’t take us long to realize that self-discipline is the most essential virtue on this tour. Our legs demand a longer break but we simply have to push on in order to achieve the day’s target.
A trekking tour through the canyon is not without risks. Nature Conservation has therefore issued precautionary regulations: participants have to pass a medical fitness test, each group has to consist of at least three hikers, and only three groups per day are allowed to descend into the canyon. But the fitness test was handled rather carelessly at the Hobas camp and now, in the afternoon, we come across a group who strictly speaking should not be here at all.
We bump into two young women who are on their way to Ai Ais as a twosome. They are not bothered by the rule that three is the minimum, but they are rather worried about their water supplies. They say they had been told that Nature Conservation puts up barrels of drinking water in the canyon. This is wrong, of course. Hikers have to bring their own supplies and replenish them at the springs and puddles. The two ladies have packed neither filter nor purifying tablets and carry on disappointedly.
Late in the afternoon, as the sun disappears behind the rock ledges above, we look for a suitable spot for the night. Collecting firewood, unrolling sleeping bags and mattresses, preparing our meal – even the simplest chores are a huge effort after a long day of hiking. We have done about eleven kilometres and are within our target.
We end the first day with a steaming cup of coffee fortified with a shot of rum. Even though alcohol adds more weight to the backpack you should do yourself the favour and take a hip flask along. When darkness is enfolded by the towering rockfaces and the group is gathered around the small campfire it provides purest relaxation, better than any wellness haven.
Day 3: “To arrive in Ai Ais dignified”
Again we rise at dawn. After two strenuous days the legs no longer respond without protest. The first blisters on the toes are a sore reminder that we have already walked 25 kilometres. To make matters worse, breakfast is not a joyous affair. The purified water reeks of chlorine and doesn’t go well with the instant coffee.
But walking on the vast gravel plains is easy enough. On these less challenging parts of the hike we are now able to enjoy the surroundings too - in contrast to the previous day. Baboons sit lined up on the rocky slopes and cheer us on with their barks. We also see three skinny desert horses right next to our path.
At midday the heat is draining us and hampering our progress again. The terrain is also becoming more difficult again. To conserve our strength we try to keep on the inside of the river’s bends. It is not always the easiest, but certainly the most effective way. Our minds are ruled by one thought only: “Let us get there! Just let us make it to Ai Ais with an ounce of dignity and heads held high. Nothing else matters.” And so we plod on, kilometre after kilometre. When we reach the 45-km-mark we drop onto the soft river sand exhausted and happy. Yet again we have reached the day’s target, in fact we slightly exceeded it.
Day 4: Where is the Fish River?
The coffee tastes lousy again. Nevertheless we are in good spirits. The first leg of the day immediately takes us through a “short cut” which saves us walking the entire length of a river bend. It is the first time in three days that we leave the riverbed. Our way continues along steep rockfaces, first up and later down again. We progress rather slowly.
If you make use of all the shortcuts the total distance of the trail decreases by just under 10 kilometres to 75 kilometres, but still we are surprised at the headway we are making. Hope springs up: “Could we perhaps make it to Ai Ais already today?” But hopes are dashed when we turn around the next bend and realize that our way is once again blocked by a mass of rubble. And behind the rockfall another sand dune has to be conquered. After which we come to the last major shortcut. What we didn’t reckon with, however, was the fact that we would no longer be able to identify the path on this significant shortcut. And so it happened that in the end we got lost after all. Right in the middle of nowhere we lost track of the second largest canyon on earth. Relying on our gut feeling and dimly remembered scouting rules we are trying to find our own way in this amazing landscape. After about an hour we see a green line below, on the left. It has to be the Fish River.
When we have finally made it to the riverbed we check our maps again. Indeed, we are back on the right track. And we have progressed further than expected: we have reached the 82-km-mark. This shortcut was definitely worth the trouble. Our last dinner in the canyon turns into a lavish meal. We polish off all our provisions so that our backpacks are as light as possible the next morning.
