They change their sky, not their soul, who rush across the sea - Horace

15 April 2019, Kalkrand to Rehoboth, 103,4km
Bastertroos Guest House N$500

“Yebo” shouted the old man with yellow teeth, clapping as I passed him at the north end of Kalkrand, back on the B1 at 07:00. “Kalk” means lime or calcium, and “Kalkrand” means lime ridge. Judging by the water quality, the town is well named; so bad was it, we were unable to face our 3-in-1 coffee this morning, taking one look at it and throwing it away. We had been unable to pump our tyres as planned at the garage as this would require the attendant turn on the generator.
We had not planned to be in Rehoboth tonight, thinking it too far for our fitness level. Several people had confirmed there was a guest house with restaurant somewhere between 50km and 70km north of Kalkrand, though we had been unable to find it on the net - not particularly unusual in this country where blatantly advertising yourself seems to be frowned upon. The Awasab guest house turned out to be 75km from Kalkrand; more importantly and shocking, it was closed. It sat behind security fencing, brightly-coloured rooms beckoning us off the road. We rang the bell at the closed gate to be told by a young woman with a baby on her hip that the owners were in Windhoek. So eager were we to be off the bikes, that we called the number she gave us and spoke to Lucy Dertlinger who explained her husband Boyjie was about to be wheeled into surgery and that she could not permit us access.
We thought of camping behind the guest house, away from the road, but weighed the discomfort of sitting in the sun for another five hours versus biking another 25km and settled on the latter. It was not an easy ride, much of it being a continuation of the inclines we had been riding all morning (see elevations below map below photos), but we made it to Rehoboth and were happy to find that our guest house, booked for the following night, could accommodate us on this night. They also told us of a local takeaway less than a block away that made us delicious pizza…
On the road today we met Gert, selling skins, mainly springbok, and mats made from springbok skins and wool. He works one week on, the women of his community managing the roadside stall alternate weeks. The community purchases the skins from the “boere” (farmers), and prepares them for sale in a community tannery. We were surprised at the low prices at which he was selling, and wished him well.
We saw a farmer and his workers harvesting grass off the verge, each with a sickle in hand. Charl’s photograph shows why - nothing left to eat on the farm side of the fences.
We met at a picnic spot a trucker named Alwyn who said usually only “foreigners” cycled Africa and who gave us two ice-cold energy drinks. We devoured one at the site, placing the other in an empty flask. It was still ice-cold when we opened it a couple of hours later.
We crossed the Tropic of Capricorn, taking the obligatory photo under the sign, and I was sand-blasted by a small whirlwind carrying red sand across the road and into the veld beyond me.

For today's route see below photos
For overview route, click on ROUTE tab above…