Postcards From The Edge

“Zear iz nossing, zear iz no one, you cannot go.” The bush guide was categorical. There was no point in discussing it any further or asking for more information about the route. Trying to cross the desolate Namib Desert by bicycle was pure foolishness, suicide. He was guiding a German couple on a 4×4 expedition. He turned back to them, and explained that he was confident they would see a lion in the next few days, completing the “Big 5” sightings, thus making their trip a success. Early the next morning, I loaded 15 liters of water on my bicycle.