Today marks the last of our nine consecutive days at sea. It’s almost hard to believe how quickly this stretch of ocean life has passed. When we first realized we’d have over a week without a single port stop, it sounded like a long time, days merging into one another, the horizon stretching endlessly in every direction. But here we are, on the eve of reaching Walvis Bay, Namibia, feeling as though the rhythm of the sea has become part of our internal clock. Each sunrise has painted its own story across the water, and each evening, as the ship gently rocked beneath us, we’ve watched the sun sink into the vast Atlantic with the same sense of awe as the day before.
Tomorrow, when the ship finally docks, we’ll step ashore and breathe in the dry desert air of Namibia. The plan is simple: no tours, no rush, just a taxi ride into town to see a few of the sights. After so many days surrounded only by water, the thought of solid ground beneath our feet feels strangely foreign and yet welcome. Walvis Bay, with its sand dunes meeting the sea, flamingos wading through the shallow lagoons, and quiet stretches of coastline, will be a lovely change of scenery. We’ve talked often about spending an extended period in Namibia someday, and this visit will give us a taste of what that might feel like.
Namibia has always intrigued us. There’s a quiet wildness about it, a sense of solitude that feels both vast and comforting. It’s the kind of place that seems to understand travelers like us, those who move slowly, staying long enough to absorb the rhythm of a place before heading on to the next. When we do eventually stay there, we can remain for a few months before returning to South Africa, since Namibia’s proximity on the northwest border doesn’t interfere with our visa timing. It’s a convenient and appealing option, especially since we can make our way back to Marloth Park afterward, a place that always feels like a second home to us.
However, the intricacies of South African visa regulations make planning a bit like solving a puzzle. It’s not as simple as crossing a nearby border and re-entering to get a fresh visa stamp. South Africa has strict rules to prevent what it calls “border hopping,” where visitors leave the country briefly to return for another 90-day stay. Bordering countries such as Namibia, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Botswana don’t qualify for new visa entries. To re-enter South Africa after our permitted time, we must either return to our home country or visit a non-bordering African nation or another country outside of Africa.
That’s one of the reasons we’ve traveled to Zambia so often in the past. Zambia doesn’t share a border with South Africa, making it a viable destination when we need to step away briefly before re-entering. Each time we’ve visited, we’ve discovered something new, lush landscapes, friendly people, and the spectacular Victoria Falls, which never loses its power to amaze. It’s fascinating how our travel patterns have been shaped not just by wanderlust but by the practicalities of visas and regulations. Over time, it’s become second nature to plan our route around these rules, blending bureaucracy with adventure in a way that feels almost seamless now.
Still, when we stand on the deck tonight, watching the final sunset of this long stretch at sea, none of that feels complicated. The horizon glows in shades of gold and rose, and there’s a quiet peace in knowing that tomorrow we’ll set foot on African soil again. We’ve learned to take these transitions in stride, the slow days at sea, the anticipation of arrival, and the steady hum of plans forming for the months ahead. Life as perpetual travelers requires flexibility, but it also rewards us with a deeper understanding of how connected everything is: the people, the landscapes, even the bureaucracies that nudge us from one place to another.
So tonight, as the ship glides through calm waters and we prepare for our arrival in Walvis Bay, I feel both grateful and grounded. These days at sea have reminded me how content we are living this way, moving forward, adapting, finding joy in both the journey and the waiting. Tomorrow, a new chapter begins, if only for a day, as we step off the ship and into the sandy beauty of Namibia, carrying with us the gentle rhythm of the ocean and the quiet excitement of what lies ahead.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 9, 2015:
