Some adventures are meticulously planned, while others take a delightful turn down the road less travelled. Armed with a trusty Suzuki Jimny affectionately known as “Coddiwomple,” Justin du Toit embarked on a nearly 7 000km journey across Namibia – a solo odyssey filled with dramatic landscapes, playful wildlife encounters, and the pure joy of discovering the untamed beauty of Africa.
Nearly 7,000 km of open roads, gravel trails, unforgettable scenery, and my trusty Jimny. Some people say paradise doesn’t exist, but in my opinion, this is pretty damn close.
After Coddiwomple got his final health check under the service plan at 60 000km at Suzuki Windhoek, I could barely contain my excitement. Apart from the usual transit, the real adventure would officially start the next day. I deflated my tyres to 1 bar, engaged four-wheel drive high range, and pointed the Jimny towards the Khomas Hochland. Beautiful winding gravel roads took me through incredible vistas, over the winding Us-Hoogte Pass, and through dry riverbeds lined with thorn trees.
As I moved west, the terrain began to change. Mountains gave way to flat, desolate beauty as far as the eye could see. It was simply stunning. Cruising at a comfortable 70 to 80km/h on Namibia’s iconic gravel highways was easier said than done, as my inner 12-year-old kept whispering, “just a little faster.” Thankfully, reason prevailed, and I continued enjoying the scenery with my favourite tunes playing via Apple CarPlay.
Coddiwomple and I soon reached the Atlantic Ocean at Walvis Bay. Heading north, I passed Swakopmund and Henties Bay en route to Cape Cross. I didn’t linger, planning to return after exploring Kaokoland. The next morning, after a stunning sunrise, I turned east into the Omaruru dry riverbed. Deep sandy tracks and barren but beautiful landscapes awaited. With the Jimny in low range, I ventured further away from civilisation, stumbling upon a quirky ramshackle hangout spot with everything from a porcelain bath to UNTAG-style lilies.
Further inland, I encountered the dry Omdel Dam, designed to store floodwater before feeding a large aquifer and boreholes downstream. After refuelling at Henties Bay, I aimed for Damaraland via the lichen fields of Messum Crater. While the Martian-like landscape was breathtaking, the track – destroyed by vehicles running high tyre pressures at speed – was heartbreaking. It’s no longer worth the risk of visiting.
Back on a main gravel road, I headed towards the Ugab River valley. The road narrowed and became a rocky two-track before descending into the dry riverbed. At the Save the Rhino Trust campsite, now rundown and overgrown, I camped under a thorn tree. A starry sky and cold beer made up for the lack of facilities.
The following morning, I set out for Desolation Valley. Words can’t fully capture its stark beauty. The barren desert eventually gives way to lush river ecosystems like the Huab River Valley. Signs of elephants were everywhere, though I didn’t spot any just yet. Crossing the Huab, I stopped atop a sand dune to top up my Jimny’s tank from a jerry can. The heat was relentless at 44°C, so I wanted to lighten my load sooner rather than later.
The Torra Conservancy brought more changes – desert terrain morphed into grasslands and then endless rocks. It felt like a rocky school reunion! Eventually, I reached Welwitschia Valley, where thousands of welwitschia plants blanketed the landscape, even in the middle of the track. The Jimny cruised effortlessly in low range and for four days, I didn’t see another vehicle or fresh tyre track.
I camped under the stars on the Kharokhaob Plains, one of the most untouched environments I’ve ever seen. By moonlight, the landscape transformed into an otherworldly spectacle. Eventually, I reached the Hoanib River Valley, navigating Coil Spring Canyon and thick sand under towering camelthorn trees. Here, I finally encountered elephants: a lone bull grazing peacefully and a small herd blocking the track. I was content to wait, enjoying cold water and the privilege of observing these majestic creatures.
Leaving the Hoanib Valley, I faced fesh-fesh dust near Sesfontein. Despite the challenge, the Jimny’s dustproofing impressed me. After replacing the air filter, I continued to Opuwo for fuel and a questionable but satisfying garage pie.
The road to Epupa Falls, while corrugated in parts, wasn’t as bad as expected. Approaching the Kunene River, the scenery became spectacular. Epupa Falls itself is a breathtaking mix of cascading water, baobabs, and the Angola-Namibia border. I followed the Kunene east, marvelling at the elevated viewpoints and serene river stops. At Camp Cornie, a peaceful spot undergoing renovations, I camped with ice-cold beer and stunning views.
Near Ruacana, I explored the falls and hydroelectric power station, even hiking into the gorge. With my Jimny’s bonnet pointed south, I began the journey back, stopping at Hobatere Roadside Camp near Etosha’s Galton Gate. While Etosha’s crowds and rough roads aren’t my cup of tea, Hobatere’s serene campsites and quirky open-air ablutions were a delight.
After a quick day at the “spa” for Coddiwomple at Suzuki Windhoek, I couldn’t resist a final hurrah in the Namib Desert. With permits in hand, I deflated my tyres to 0.8 bar and tackled the towering dunes of Dorob National Park. The Jimny’s power-to-weight ratio amazed me as it glided over the sand, though I resisted the urge to push it too hard.
This solo adventure through Namibia was nothing short of magical. From rocky valleys and desolate plains to lush riverbeds and towering dunes, the Jimny handled it all with ease. Coddiwomple proved yet again that you don’t need a massive overland rig to experience the beauty of Africa. Sometimes, all you need is a sense of adventure and a little Suzuki with a big heart.
Final thought on the Jimny’s performance
Not a single puncture! I managed to tackle some of the toughest terrain out there in scorching heat. Tyre pressures? Absolutely critical! Coddiwomple is fitted with 215/75/15 Dunlop Grandtrek AT5s, which had already done around 40 000km before this trip – and they’re nothing short of awesome! These tyres are hands down my top pick for a Jimny.
On gravel, I kept the pressures at 1.2 bar, while on tar I ran 2 bar. Yes, 2 bar is slightly on the high side, but with the added weight on the roof, it made a world of difference in terms of stability. For long stretches on two-track and gravel roads, I dropped pressures to 1 bar, kept the speeds low, and still didn’t encounter a single issue. In fact, we’ve never had a puncture on any Suzuki Safari trip. The takeaway? Deflate your damn tyres when going off-road!
Our philosophy for any trip is simple: KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid). No need for fancy gadgets or over-the-top gear. I didn’t even bother with a fridge – just a good cooler box with ice, which lasts three to four days if managed properly. A 20-litre jerry can of extra fuel was more than sufficient. I only topped up the tank once during a 400-odd kilometre trek through a very remote area.
All in all, I spent about three weeks exploring some of the most remote areas imaginable – just me, myself, and my Jimny. And I can’t sing this giant killer’s praises enough! With an average fuel consumption of 12.7km/l for the entire trip, unbeatable comfort, and unparalleled reliability, the Jimny truly is the ultimate adventure companion for exploring Africa.
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