By the time I rose in the morning at Eastside Rest Camp, a fine layer of dust coated everything in the room (including yours truly) from the previous night’s sandstorm. Part of the adventure, eh?

I had arranged for a shared taxi to get me the 320 kilometers to Windhoek, and the car had arrived early. Levi, the manager of the Rest Camp and the gentleman who had set up the ride-share, knocked on my door early and said, “Your ride is here!” I had to scramble to get dressed and out of there.

Valentino had four other people in the back seat and we immediately headed off for the hour’s ride to Gobabis, a quaint, clean town on the way to Windhoek. Once in Gobabis, I had to change to another driver’s car – the previous one only went as far as Gobabis.

I got into the car with an elderly couple and we were once again on the road to Windhoek. We arrived in the capital of Windhoek, and the car dropped off the elderly couple, who were on their way to the hospital. As they did not seem to be in distress, it was probably for tests of some sort.

I was then dropped off at my backpackers’ hostel. I spent the rest of the day at a nearby shopping mall looking for an air pump to fill soccer balls. I had agreed to help some friends I met at Jollyboys in Livingstone to deliver some soccer balls to a local orphanage.

I found a pump and made arrangements to deliver the balls the following day.