Swakopmund makes no sense geographically and complete sense as a place. On one side: the Namib Desert, extending into the continent for hundreds of kilometres. On the other: the Atlantic Ocean, cold with the Benguela Current. Between them: a German colonial town of turn-of-century buildings, palm-lined streets, and bakeries that sell freshly-made Streuselkuchen.
The German colonial period lasted only until 1915, but its architectural legacy is remarkably intact. The old railway station — now a hotel — the lighthouse, the Woermann House with its distinctive crow-stepped gable: these buildings were constructed between 1890 and 1910, and they look as though they belong somewhere temperate. In the morning fog that rolls in off the Atlantic, they almost convince you they do.
The fog is a consequence of the Benguela Current — cold upwelling ocean water meets warm desert air, and the result is a thick marine layer that sometimes doesn't clear until early afternoon. It creates a microclimate unlike anything inland. The road south toward Walvis Bay passes through dunes that advance toward the sea through the fog like something from a strange dream.
Swakopmund is also Namibia's adventure sports hub. The dune fields immediately behind the town offer sandboarding, quad biking, and paragliding. The offshore waters are productive for kayaking among Cape fur seal colonies. The town's restaurants serve crayfish — Cape rock lobster — of a quality that rewards planning a stop here specifically for dinner.
We spent two nights. The second morning the fog lifted early, and we walked to the pier at sunrise with coffee from a takeaway bakery. Cold Atlantic air, salt spray, and very good coffee. It seemed like exactly enough.