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Only the hardiest of living things survive among the starkly beautiful dunes of the Namib Desert

After climbing through soft sand for almost an hour we arrived at the crest of Dune 45 just in time to see the sun rise over the rim of Tsauchab valley.
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It took only a few minutes to return to the valley and by the next morning we knew our tracks would be gone, erased by the wind and shifting sand.

After climbing through soft sand for almost an hour we arrived at the crest of Dune 45 just in time to see the sun rise over the rim of Tsauchab valley. Standing high above the desert floor we watched as the intense morning light caught first the summits, then the sinuous ridges and finally the vast sea of brick-red dunes that extend to the horizon in every direction. We could have been standing on the surface of an alien planet or looking at the surreal landscape of a Salvador Dali painting. The ancient dunes of Sossusvlei in the central Namib are unlike anything else on earth.

They call it the "Dune Sea" – a vast expanse of sand that the wind has whipped into giant standing waves up to 300 metres high. Dune 45, like the other dunes in the Sossusvlei area, has a gentle windward side and steep leeward side where the sand clinging to the slope is poised to slip. A sharp-crested ridge, only a few inches wide at the top, curves gracefully up from the valley to the summit. We stood there for a long time, soaking up the view before leaping onto the steep slipface and heading down. Bounding through the loose unstable sand was an exhilarating treat after our arduous climb. It took only a few minutes to return to the valley and by the next morning we knew our tracks would be gone, erased by the wind and shifting sand.

The Tsauchab River, flowing westward out of the Naukluft Mountains, penetrates 55 km into the Dune Sea. It once flowed all the way to the Atlantic Ocean but several thousand years ago its course was blocked by advancing dunes. An ephemeral lake, Sossuvlei, formed behind the dam but only during periods of exceptional rain does any water cover the sun-baked clay of its bed. Even at Dune 45, 20 km upstream from Sossuvlei, there is no sign of water. The dusty gravel flats on the broad valley bottom are baked hard by months of drought. Even after heavy rain in the Naukluft Mountains surface water rarely reaches this far west. But groundwater, flowing through the sand below the surface sustains a slender oasis of trees and shrubs. Lines of living acacia and camel-thorn trees flourish above the present underground water courses while the desiccated skeletons of their predecessors, some 5,000 years old, still stand over abandoned channels.

Dune 45, as its name implies, is 45 km downstream from the park office and campsite at Sesriem. We set up camp there the day before our early-morning trip to the dunes

Protected from the drifting sand by a circular rock wall and from the sun by the spreading canopy of an old camel-thorn tree our Sesriem campsite came with a fresh-water tap, a braae (BBQ) pit, and a stunning view across the desert to the Naukluft Mountains. After setting up the tents we drove to nearby Sesriem Canyon, a narrow gorge cut into the bedrock millions of years ago by the Tsauchab River. A trail leads down into the cleft where a standing pool of clear water is all that remains of the once mighty river. Looking straight up we can see the rim of the canyon 30m above us. This is where early ox-cart drivers lowered buckets to draw water to the surface. It took six leather reins, "sesriem", tied together to reach the pool.

After dumping the sand from our boots and pockets we left Dune 45 and continued west along the dry river valley to Sossusvlei. Even though our Landcruiser had four-wheel-drive, Odie elected to leave it safely in a parking area and travel the last four kilometres in a rented 4WD pickup driven by a local guide. A prudent decision! We came on a group of dejected tourists hunkered down in the shade of their bogged-down SUV. With all four wheels buried to the axles in sand they had given up and were waiting for a tow-truck from Sesriem.

Sossusvlei, a huge pan or dry lakebed, is surrounded by red dunes that tower 200m above its flat, pale yellow surface. A few times each century the Tsauchab River breaks through the sand and flows west, past Dune 45, and floods the Pan with water. In 2001, our guide told us, the dry sun-baked pan before us was a lake and for a few brief weeks it attracted ducks and even flamingos. The water has since evaporated or seeped into the sand and the ducks and flamingos are gone, but other creatures have adapted to life among the dunes. Deep-rooted plants suck moisture trapped in the sand and their leaves, seeds, and fruit provide food for a variety of insects, reptiles and even a few hardy mammals.

Nara melons, a relative of the cucumber, have roots several metres long. A favourite food for ostriches, the tiny fruit, about the size of an apple, is also eaten by beetles, lizards, and mice. And these small herbivores become food for the carnivores – the jackals, skinks, and snakes that roam the dunes at night. Of all the strange plants that grow in this hostile environment Welwitschia mirabilis is certainly the most bizarre. Emerging directly from the sand the broad leaves of this succulent species split, shred and tangle as the plant grows. The larger specimens, which resemble piles of kelp washed up on a beach, are estimated to be 2,000 years old.

And the prize for most bizarre animal goes to the Golden Mole. This tiny creature, with neither eyes nor ears, doesn't live on the sand, it lives in and actually swims through the sand. Remaining buried during the heat of the day it emerges at night to scavenge the surface for insect larvae.

From Sossusvlei we set off on the trail to Dead Vlei. It's only a five-kilometre return hike, but with the sun directly overhead and temperatures hovering in the low 40s, the climb is enervating. And there is not a scrap of shade or a breath of wind. A few large beetles, their shiny black bodies perched on long spindly legs, scurry aimlessly over the sand as we pass. But except for the beetles and ourselves nothing else is moving in the deathly stillness of the noonday desert.

Dead Vlei is smaller but even more starkly beautiful than Sossusvlei. Perched in a depression among the dunes it was once, like Sossusvlei, a lake that flooded when the river was swollen by heavy rain. But thousands of years ago shifting sand cut off even that tenuous supply of water and, isolated among the dunes, the Vlei and its forest of surrounding trees died. The remains of giant acacias, some of them more than 500 years old, are the only sign that life ever existed here. And Dead Vlei, with its forest of skeletal trees silhouetted against the barren red dunes and cloudless sky, could be part of a post-apocalyptic world.

On our way back to the parking area the trees still living in Tsauchab valley are a welcome source of shade. We pause for a drink of water and while we are resting three gemsbok appear over the edge of a dune and stroll past on their way to browse on shrubs growing around Sossusvlei Pan. These magnificent, long-horned gazelles are one of the few large mammals that have adapted to life among the dunes. Able to survive for weeks on only the scant moisture contained in the leaves they eat, gemsbok also have a unique blood-cooling system that allows them to tolerate the extreme temperatures of the desert.

The SUV, now abandoned, was still mired to the axles as we passed on our way back to camp – a reminder that the Dune Sea can be as unforgiving as any other ocean. Unlike the gemsbok, human beings are not designed to live here. We need our bottled water, sunscreen, and hats to survive. But our brief foray into this alien corner of the world was one of the most memorable days of our entire African adventure.