These days exploring a raw part of Namibia’s heart showed us that magic does exist. Behind rocks, in the shade of dunes, beyond challenges, on our body’s sweat, in the tracks of Rafiki or somewhere flying in the dust of the bikes. Magic does exist if our hearts stay wide open and ready to go anywhere.
We met Chris, the German biker, when we were on our way back to Uis, in the middle of nowhere. When it was time to finish the off-road loop, surrounded by dunes, swimming in thick sand, and crushed by a blazing sun.
One by one, we got stuck in Paradise, our mind drained and the spirit high. Only us, our vehicles, and happiness. We were running out of water but never of recklessness. This last one helps us to dream and to keep going.
When Chris called me ‘the angel of the desert’, I was crying inside, but he didn’t know. He probably will, tonight. This ‘nickname’ made me think about my close cousin straight away. A true angel who sent me to Africa three years ago and who gave me the rage to fight and to pursue this solo overland journey at all costs. Because life never waits, don’t be surprised.
My cousin was a talented and passionate biker and especially when riding and camping in desert landscapes. These days with my European bikers made me think of him even more, and deeply.
Tonight, writing these words, I miss you. J., YOU are the angel of the desert.
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