Ever since I first saw photos of the ghost town of Kolmanskop it has been atop my bucket list of places to travel in Namibia. As other places have slowly been checked off the list, it has patiently remained. This year our semester calendar worked in such a way that we got two full weeks off for Easter break, so I knew this would be my opportunity.
I packed up the car early and set off on the road south before the sun even peaked up over the eastern horizon. It would be about 8 hours driving time south to Keetmanshoop, then west across the desert to Luderitz. I'd been forewarned that as you approached the coast the wind may have pushed the sand dunes into the middle of the road. And sure enough, though the road stayed clear, I did see plow trucks pushing the encroaching dunes off the railroad tracks. Beyond the sand dunes were the most barren, rocky hills you've ever seen. If you look up 'wasteland' in the dictionary then this is probably where they get the picture. It made me wonder how anyone could live out here. But at long last, the small coastal town of Luderitz peaked its way through the desert hills, my holiday home for the next few days.
Luderitz is a small colorful town painted across the hillsides which empty into the picturesque bay. Sailboats, schooners, and freighters alike are anchored across the small harbor. Its German architecture and names reveal it's abundant history. While it's a quiet town with plenty of nooks and beaches to explore across the peninsula, my main objective wasn't found at the ocean, but about 10km back into the desert.
Kolmanskop is open to visitors from 8-1 each day, but that wasn't enough for me. I wisely purchased the amateur photographer's pass which allowed me access from sunrise to sunset. So once again I was up before the sun to enter the gates as the first morning rays touched the earth.
Kolmanskop is an old mining town which has long since been abandoned and overtaken by the desert. The buildings range from mansions for the wealthy, to workers homes, an old restaurant or saloon, even the old hospital. These buildings are spotted across an eastern hillside which makes morning light invaluable for photographers.
When I arrived I was literally the only person there, the deafening silence of the desert and these creepy old buildings all to myself. I found the early morning light to be best for exterior shots, especially with no one else around. Then I moved inside as the daylight got brighter and the sun arched higher in the sky. I know faded colors, peeling paint, and dune-filled doorways doesn't sound too exciting, but around every corner was another amazing discovery. This place was a photographer's dreamland! Each room had a unique character of it's own. Sometimes the light cast through the open rafters at just the right time to paint some jaw-dropping designs. But I've exhausted the words it would take to explain, so I'll let the pictures tell the story on their own.
As the sun was finally covered by the approaching evening clouds, my feet were sore and my memory card full. The now eerie black windows watched as I turned my back to descend the dunes to my car, the whistling wind again the only sound left on the solitary slope. Like my footprints in the sand which are quickly covered in the wind, what stories were once made in these halls and homes have gone the way of history and left only the deteriorating walls and doorways to tell their tales. In a desert known for its diamonds, I too had stumbled upon an unexpected jewel.
