The Namib desert could have been an impressionist painting. A canvas full of imaginary shapes and colors expressing the artist’s emotions. After a few days spent in the desert, we cross the threshold and become part of that imaginary world. There we scale red dunes made of tangerine foam and sail on oceans of pale green grass. Bright turquoise tok tokkies scramble around us as our feet vanish in the red cotton on the ground. Herds of oryxes parade past us like a phalanx of Spartans, their long straight horns lined up like lances. And when the sun goes down, the mysterious Artist splashes gold over the clouds in one final stroke before he puts his brushes down for the night.
