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# Diamonds, Wild Desert Horses and a Ghost Town
- URL: https://howardkinsman.com/diamonds-wild-desert-horses-and-a-ghost-town/
- Published: 2026-08-15T11:57:26.000Z
- Updated: 2026-08-15T14:02:05.000Z
- Author: Howard Kinsman
- Tags: Travel

Clutching freshly stamped passports we pass  
through the Namibian border post and onto the desert highway. There  
is a stop sign implanted in the sand ahead, together with a vague  
white line across the dusty road. Police officers are dealing with  
another driver, obviously leaving Namibia, and glance in my  
direction, so I slow to a halt just past the faint white line. I turn  
off the ignition and wait. They wave the other driver on and saunter  
over to my car.  
Each of the three police officers, two men and  
one woman, are wearing dark, cheap imitations, of popular sunglasses.  
The female police officer addresses me, sharply, in Afrikaans. I  
glance at my wife: the Afrikaans language never was my strong point.  
“She wants you to move back,” says Johanna. I glance out  
the side windows and then into my rear-view mirror. There is no  
traffic. I smile at the ridiculousness of the situation to the police  
officer - she doesn’t smile back.  
I, resignedly, reverse for about a half a metre  
to behind the faint road marking. Finally satisfied she examines my  
drivers-license, comments that I need driving lessons and asks where  
I am heading.  
“If I work on my driving, can you work on  
your manners?” I think, whilst answering, curtly, “Lüderitz.”  
“Is this your wife and daughter?” she  
asks, gesturing towards the passenger seat. I nod meekly.  
A male officer asks if we have any alcohol with  
us. “Two very warm beers,” I reply. My wife holds up the  
beer – one of which is half empty. It seems that even hot and  
bothered border cops balk at the idea of warm Black Label. He walks  
away. The female officer nods in approval that I may proceed. One of  
her male colleagues says “Enjoy your stay sir!” We are  
now in Namibia!  
I take a left from the B1, the D316, towards  
Ai-Ais – it’s going to be dirt roads all the way from now  
on. My bored, three year old, daughter reaches for her Christmas  
presents, long since opened, and tries to ignore the bumps as my Land  
Rover rattles its way down the road.  
I stop the car as soon as I see the ostriches. A  
good photographic opportunity is not to be missed. Sadly they spook  
as I get out of the vehicle and I only manage to get a shot of two of  
the birds as they dash across the road. We head on to our  
destination.  
Ai-Ais is hot; built over a warm underground  
river, which surfaces as a hot spring; the heat at times is  
overpowering. A sign over the hot spring reads ‘DANGER:  
Extremely Hot.’ Like most men I regard a warning sign as merely  
another challenge and test the water with my toe. Sixty five degrees  
centigrade is far too warm for comfort and I recoil in pain whilst my  
wife eyes me with an “I told you so,” look.  
As it is situated in the Fish River Canyon  
National Park, visiting Ai-Ais requires the payment of park fees.  
This together with overpriced, rather shabby, rooms makes it a rather  
expensive destination. For the three of us it costs about R1500 in  
all for a two night stay in an air-conditioned, self-catering room,  
which includes the park fees. Staff, however, are friendly and  
helpful, although a little resentful about working on Christmas Day.  
Everything a visitor could possibly need is  
available in the resort; including a shop, restaurant and a kiosk,  
which sells drinks when the restaurant is closed. Visitors need to be  
aware that you are effectively a captive audience for the period of  
your stay as the nearest town, and amenities, are about 100km away.  
We are a little disappointed that there is no Christmas menu on offer  
on the big day.  
We settle instead for a day trip to Fish River  
Canyon. Stretching some 160km down into South Africa to form part of  
the Richtersveld National Park, Fish River Canyon is an awesome  
sight. We stand and stare down at the almost dry river bed some 550m  
below along with other groups of fascinated tourists. I make a mental  
note to add hiking the canyon – possible only in winter –  
to my ever expanding ‘Things to do before I die’ list. A  
90km hike however is not something to be taken lightly as escape  
routes are limited; and remember that you will be carrying all your  
own camping equipment, food and water for approximately 5 days.  
On Boxing Day morning we hit the road again. It  
is dirt roads most of the way to Keetmanshoop – but sandy,  
rather than the sharp gravel found on Northern Cape dirt roads, and  
so easier on the tyres. A 4x4 isn’t really necessary to visit  
Namibia but it really does help.  
Keetmanshoop is a rather nondescript town lying  
on the B1, Namibia’s main, and only, highway: a stop-over town  
between Windhoek and the South African border. However it is the  
largest town in this part of Namibia and provides an ideal place to  
stock up on supplies, re-fuel or perhaps fix a puncture. We stay in a  
charming little guesthouse, and the owner makes us feel very much at  
home. I ask where I can purchase a beer or two. “They are in  
the fridge,” she replies, “Help yourself and just let me  
know how many you drink.” Namibians are a very friendly and  
relaxed people; well save for a certain policewoman, probably busy  
harassing drivers at the border post as we speak.  
The following morning it is on to Lüderitz:  
approximately 340km from Keetmanshoop along a rare, luxurious, tar  
road. There is a petrol station on the way but make sure you fill up  
before you go. I’m pleasantly reassured by a jerry-can full of  
diesel in the back of my Land Rover. About 125km from Lüderitz is a small town  
called Aus. I stop on impulse as all three of us are frazzled from  
the heat and the road. Aus is delightful. I mark it on my map as we  
will be back; and then we approach our final destination: Lüderitz.  
Lüderitz lies on the west coast of Namibia  
on the verge of the Namib Desert. It’s an isolated place and  
requires some determination to visit. The effort though, I believe,  
is worth it. It has a chequered history; founded in 1883,  
it began life when land was purchased on behalf of a German, Adolf  
Lüderitz, from a local Nama chief. It  
remained a small harbour settlement until the discovery of diamonds  
nearby in 1909\. This resulted in a rush of money-maddened people to  
this remote part of the world. Fortunes were made, lost and re-made.  
Violence was rife. Lüderitz though expanded considerably.  
Diamond mining, in this area, however was not sustainable and  
eventually moved further south to Oranjemund. The vast desert to the  
south of Lüderitz is still largely a restricted area and there  
are regular police road-blocks on the only road into town: so you may  
find yourself in big trouble if you were considering doing any  
diamond prospecting yourself!  
Today however Lüderitz is predominantly a  
tourist destination: lodges, hotels, bars and restaurants line the  
streets. It still retains a very German feel; both in its colourful  
architecture, and in language: many signs or menus, for example, are  
printed in English, Afrikaans and German.  
Many 4x4 drivers are drawn to Lüderitz to try  
out their vehicles on the giant sand-dunes to the north in the  
unrestricted areas of the Namib Desert. It should be noted that  
driving into the dunes could easily lead into a potentially dangerous  
situation. Even with a 4x4 you will need to know how to handle your  
vehicle. For the beginner, the peace of mind of travelling in a  
convoy with a guide is ideal. There are many adventure tour operators  
in Lüderitz but you will obviously need your own, fully  
equipped, vehicle.  
Leaving Aus we head west on the B4\. An Oryx gazes  
at curiously at the passing Land Rover from the side of the road. It  
stops grazing for a moment, contemplates the car and its three  
occupants. “The two larger ones see me,” it thinks “but  
not the small one sleeping in the back.”  
We soon encounter vast plains of grassland: wild  
horse country. A sign, pointing to the right says ‘Garub Wild  
Horses’. On advice from a Capetonian friend I follow the sign;  
and it soon proves to be a very worthwhile detour.  
The feral horses of Garub are a wonderful sight.  
We all watch fascinated as several horses, including a stumbling  
foal, gallop down to their only water source, provided by the  
Namib-Naukluft Park authorities. The horses are  
another relict of the diamond rush and German colonialism.  
Descendents of escapee miners’ horses they have survived,  
through a natural herding disposition, to become a wild herd of about  
150 today.  
The road to Lüderitz can be a tough one:  
‘WIND’, ‘SAND’ warn the road signs. The  
grassland soon turns to sand, and dunes appear on the horizon. The  
signs aren’t lying. My Land Rover was soon being sandblasted.  
“Daddy, I’m scared!” my daughter cries after  
awakening. Whilst being buffeted by high winds I slow down to a  
snail’s pace. My wife, by now coated in a fine layer of sand,  
holds my daughter tightly and eyes me nervously. We pass a town,  
barely visible in the sandstorm. “How can anyone live there?”  
she asks. I have, for once, no answer. Lüderitz however  
provides some protection from the sandstorm and we hurriedly check  
into Obelix Guesthouse. As a lifelong Asterix fan I love the name and  
have no hesitation about staying at this place. A fleet of 4x4s, with  
a few Land Rovers, confirms my suspicion that this is a popular  
guesthouse. A walk around Lüderitz proves to be a  
frightful ordeal for my family still dressed in our Cape Town summer  
clothes. All the locals that own cars remain firmly inside them;  
whilst the less fortunate wear sunglasses, hoods and jackets: despite  
the heat. Wind and sand howl outside our room as we sleep later that  
night.  
By the following morning the wind has calmed. On  
the recommendation of the owner’s young daughter we decide to  
take a day trip to the town of Kolmanskop. This was also a diamond  
mining town in the early 20th century, but didn’t  
survive long after the diamond rush ended. I finally have an answer  
to my wife’s question as to how people could live there: “They  
don’t!”  
Kolmanskop is a ghost town: completely abandoned.  
It is an eerie feeling to wander through the buildings knowing that  
this was once a bustling little town but now most of the houses  
contain nothing but memories and the ever-shifting sand.  
A permist (N$38 per person) is required to visit  
Kolmanskop as it is in the restricted diamond mining area; these are  
available at the entrance. Guided tours are available or you can  
choose, as did we, to wander around yourself. This place should not  
be missed if you are in the vicinity.  
Most of the buildings are in a sorry state of  
disrepair; no doubt due to the regular battering they receive from  
sandstorms such as the one we witnessed yesterday. A few buildings  
however have been lovingly recreated into museums. Strangely enough  
the derelict buildings seem to have more meaning for me; with small  
sand-dunes massing on their wooden floors, they offer a poignant  
reminder of how harsh life must have been for the miners out here in  
the Namib Desert. There is even a bar – sadly no longer in use  
– that even has a skittle alley.  
We spend the afternoon on Agate Beach. Lying  
about 8km out of Lüderitz it is a beautiful, usually deserted,  
beach. With huge sand-dunes behind us, staring out at the Atlantic  
Ocean, dotted with the islands around Lüderitz, we relax  
completely and enjoy a few rapidly warming beers.  
The following day we head back to Aus. I’d  
read about a rest camp, with cottages, a campsite and hiking trails,  
called Klein-Aus Vista. The cottages are fully booked so we decide to  
camp for a night. The campsite is perfect. Our plot is at least 200m  
from anyone else and it feels as if we are the only ones there. There  
is plenty to do here: for example, trips can be arranged to visit the  
wild horses or for the more active the hiking trails sound fun. We  
opt for a simple braai and a few beers. My daughter is entranced by  
the little yellow birds nesting in the tree under which we are  
camped. Whenever I turn on the water tap and spill a few drops they  
fly down to drink before it drains into the sand.There is a road back to South Africa from Aus that shortens the trip from Lüderitz. It is a 310km dirt road  
all the way to the border, with little in the way of stops or fuel.  
We decide to take it. The small town of Rosh Pinah provides a,  
somewhat boring, refuelling stop if needed. We are soon following the  
Orange River – the border with South Africa. I stop to take  
photographs of the Richtersveld National Park from across the river.  
We pass a small settlement after leaving the  
Orange River area. Small wooden huts dot the landscape; many with  
grapes lying outside, drying in the sun. There is a vineyard nearby,  
which explains a settlement in this remote place. To my delight I see  
a bar! My wife sighs as I park outside ‘Fabulous Bar’.  
Constructed from a freight container it is unbearably hot inside. The  
surly barmaid hands me two warm beers without saying a word. The only  
other customer asks me for a lift but I have to decline his plea,  
explaining that my daughter is asleep in the back – “No  
room, my friend,” I say. He nods.  
We finally arrive at Noordowoer and, rather  
sadly, cross back into South Africa. Namibia, as always, does not  
disappoint. What are *you* waiting for?

Howard Kinsman 2010