THE HAIRY GIRAFFE… IN NAMIBIA

After three weeks in Namibia, it’s time to reflect. How did we experience this journey? What were our joys, disappointments, questions, doubts, and discoveries? This is not merely an assessment of a country but rather of a trip—how we perceived it individually and subjectively.


We are François and Benjamin, Canadian and French giraffe hairstylists and travel enthusiasts. On this blog, discover our travels, tips, moods, and everything you need to become a giraffe hairstylist and embark on travelling the world. An honest blog with photos guaranteed 100% unfiltered and untouched.

Benjamin’s Travel Reflections

We discovered Namibia through a television documentary featuring a family embarking on a journey across the vast desert landscapes of the country, traversing hundreds of kilometers amid red sand scenery. The imagery was magnificent, contrasting with the seemingly low interest of the family’s children, asleep in the back of the car. Perhaps they were exhausted after spending several nights in the car’s pop-up roof.

It must be noted that all travel blogs and guides emphasize the same thing: a trip to Namibia cannot be considered successful unless you rent a car with a pop-up roof. In this regard, our trip to Namibia was not a success, as we opted for a standard 4×4. Nonetheless, the rest of our journey was exceptional.

We left in the summer of 2021 when the world was still partially paralyzed by Covid. We almost didn’t go (it’s hard to recall our anxiety now while daily monitoring the country’s infection curves and queuing for a PCR test on the eve of the holiday departure…).

But this context provided us with a significant advantage: accommodations were offered at slashed prices. So, we didn’t even consider the option of a car with a pop-up roof. Instead, we enjoyed incredible accommodations with desert pools (pools that were never heated and where the water temperature hovered around 12°C… yes, it gets very cold at night in winter).

Another advantage: tourists were scarce, accommodations were never fully booked, and the Paris-Johannesburg flight (a mandatory stopover) was empty (everyone had their row, and a good night’s sleep sprawled across four seats). While in normal circumstances, you’d have to settle for a cramped spot on the plane, Namibia remains immensely empty: it’s the second least densely populated country in the world (after Mongolia), barely three inhabitants per square kilometer. And its landscapes invite you to take a road trip.

If you love road trips, if your best travel memory is the journey through the American Southwest and its immense national parks, then Namibia cannot disappoint. Apple strudels replace cheesecakes (thanks to German colonization), you’re more likely to encounter Himbas than Navajos, and you’ll need a spare wheel to tackle the rarely asphalted roads. But the car wrecks are reminiscent of those scattered along Route 66, and the infinite landscapes at times evoke pioneer America.

Vast deserts as far as the eye can see, landscapes each more stunning than the last (and more varied than they seem), ten-room hotels on twelve thousand hectares of land: Namibia offers a precious sense of solitude, a break in a perpetually moving world.

But while humans are rare in Namibia, the country is teeming with wildlife. Of course, there’s Etosha Park, one of the largest and most beautiful animal reserves in Africa. But wherever we went, in every nook and cranny of Namibia, we encountered animals: thousands of seals, a meerkat at breakfast, baboons in a forest, colorful lizards on every hotel wall, a porcupine rubbing against the restaurant window… Each encounter is a discovery, a marvel (except, obviously, for the darn mouse that nibbled on my glasses and headphones all night while I was peacefully asleep!).

And fortunately, all these animals are here. Because if the solitude offered by Namibia provides a rejuvenating breath of fresh air, it has created in us the strange sensation of having visited a country that had no inhabitants. It’s not for lack of conversing with the people we met. But the tourism sector is largely managed by Germans, who represent 7% of the population, and it can be difficult to go beyond that, to connect with the rest of the population.

It’s not that I don’t want to see Germans during my holidays (the stereotypes of German efficiency and good management are evident in Namibia), but this German omnipresence in the tourism sector and the barbed wire protecting the affluent homes in the rich neighborhoods of the capital, Windhoek, leaves a small post-colonial taste that raises questions.

Nevertheless, Namibia is often considered an ‘easy-to-travel’ African country. And this reputation is certainly linked to the autonomy of travelers. Any tourist can wander alone and without fear in the cities, rent a car and embark on a journey across the country, and even approach the wild animals of Etosha without a guide (while staying, of course, in their car).

At the end of the journey, one cannot help but appreciate the luxury of such an experience: discovering alone and without constraints a country almost devoid of people, with magnificent landscapes and astonishing wildlife. In the age of overtourism, more than four-star hotels and Michelin restaurants, this is perhaps the true luxury of travel.

Check out François’ Travel Reflections:

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