Heat is nothing new to Namibians, as a matter of fact, most of us only properly function above 28 degrees celsius! My personal cut-off is 18 degrees, below that I am officially cold and want to crawl back in bed. People have often told me that you can dress warm in the cold, but you can’t dress cold in the heat. I take that as a challenge and only wear what really needs to get me by on a day-to-day basis without being arrested for indescancy!
This time of year, the hot season in the Southern Hemisphere is by far my favorite. Born on a blistering day in November, I think heat is so engrained in my being that I get withdrawal symptoms if I’m colder for more than a few minutes at a time.
While white snow-covered pine trees, roast turkey, and toboggans define the months of November and December for many, we here in the Southern Hemisphere have coconut-scented suntan lotion, flip-flops, and watermelon.
In this land of wide-open spaces and sunshine, seeing images of Saint Nick on a sled laughing through the snow always brings an ironic smile to my face. As a child, I wondered if climbing through the ‘chop and wors’ scented chimney of a built-in braai made him hungry or whether he took off his North Polean jacket when he delivered our gifts to cool down. I remember as a child seeing a homeless man passed out wearing a full Father Christmas suit in a downtown park, and my youthful ignorant mind construed it as heat-stroke… my parents ensured me it was not, and that was just a bit tired from all his deliveries!
Namibia regularly has sweltering temperatures around this time of year, often pushing the mercury into the brain-boiling forties; then, just before nature-induced fever dreams drive us completely mad, we depart on family-centric adventures for a week or two just so we can be hot somewhere else. House-sitters to feed their pets and tend a wilting garden through the worst of the heat, are organised and then the monumental task of ‘family packing’ starts!
A intricate Tertris game ensues where cars, trailers, and roof racks are packed and repacked by space-conscious dads asking, ‘Do you really need that?’, in an attempt to make the line vanish and magically reduce the paraphernalia that has to accompany the family on vacation. Meanwhile cold meatballs, carrot strips, and biltong are packed by moms for consumption under the canopy of a desolate picnic spot en route to the Shangri-la of choice.
Welcome to Namibia, your doorway to Africa, to dreamy adventures, the hottest new thing on the travel map.
In the immortal words of Cliff Richards,
Everybody has a summer holiday.
Doing things they always wanted to
So we’re going on a summer holiday
To make our dreams come true
For me and you