ROOTED IN ROCK

the Hoada experience

Clear cobalt skies stretch above white, willowy grasslands. Rocky peaks rise among scattered shrubs. Solitary gravel roads are occasionally interrupted by capacious, sandy riverbeds. Here, the wilderness opens to sweeping plains, filled with mopane woodlands and dotted with hardy shepherd’s trees sculpted by the wind. Along the way, we encounter scenes of daily, rural life: sheep and goat herders, small farming settlements, and roadside stalls selling rough cuts of quartz and semi-precious gemstones. As we venture further into the semi-arid terrain of Damaraland, the landscape begins to transform, with both the vegetation and its inhabitants adapting to the region’s rugged geography.

Nearly 75 km west of the small town of Kamanjab, a wellmaintained gravel road leads us to Hoada Campsite. Turning in at the entrance, I begin to understand why Hoada’s fascinating topography has been touted as the campsite’s main drawcard: wedged between immense grey granite boulders, the camping spots have been seamlessly integrated into the natural landscape. Mopane trees, undeterred, seemingly sprout from the rocks. This striking geology evokes a sense of the surreal and, at first glance, an immemorial place. I keep expecting a dinosaur to casually appear from behind a boulder at any moment.

Set against this towering backdrop, the massive stones carve out natural nooks and clever crannies, with eight spacious campsites – six designed for groups up to eight and two built for larger crews of up to fourteen – created for every kind of expedition. The larger camping sites include separate male and female ablution facilities, making life in the bush a little easier. Each site comes equipped with a practical kitchen area with running water and a washbasin. For those seeking a little extra comfort without the hassle of pitching a tent, Hoada also features four beautifully appointed permanent tents. These come fully furnished with comfy beds, bedside tables, a handy bench and private bathrooms skilfully constructed just behind each tent – glamping at its finest. Showers here are heated the traditional way: wood-fired “donkey” boilers, which the staff keep going morning and evening to ensure there is always hot water.

It is in one of these permanent tents that we gratefully set down our dust-covered backpacks. Parched yet relishing the warmer air, we make our way up the cobbled steps to the bar and deck, shaded by an old chestnut tree with large, pointed leaves sprawling over the timber flooring. Once a waterhole frequented by wildlife, the nearby splash pool has been reshaped into a welcoming oasis for campers. It blends so naturally into the landscape, you would think it had always been there. Like the rest of Hoada, the design favours subtlety over show: eco-friendly, and with a minimal carbon footprint. The result is complementary, rather than intrusive. Stark against an amber-dappled sky, the rocky outcrops of the Etendeka Plateau stand silhouetted in front of us. We pause, drinks in hand, to take in the view.

Close encounter

The campsite also features easily accessible hiking routes that meander between the rock formations. Eager to stretch our legs after a long drive, we set out to explore a nearby trail and manage, just, to sidestep a horned adder (a small, stout snake endemic to Southern Africa), blissfully burrowed into the sand-baked sand, soaking up the last dregs of summer before the winter months start to set in. Our startled gasps catch the attention of a cluster of Namibian campers, who quickly form a circle around the seemingly nonchalant – yet highly venomous – viper. A few cautiously ecstatic photos are snapped, before some pleasantries are exchanged (ranging from “Look how well it blends into the sand” to “You were just an inch from a bite!” and “Did you travel from Windhoek today?”). It is a spontaneous gathering sparked by local fascination. In a quintessentially Namibian move, one of the onlookers casually asks for a set of braai tongs from the nearest campsite. With practised ease – clearly not his first time – he expertly ushers our scaly companion away from the main path into the thorny undergrowth across the track. Surprise sighting aside, we venture on!

A pioneer in community-based conservation

Hoada Campsite falls under the same management as Grootberg Lodge, located just 25 km away, and is wholly owned by the community through the ≠Khoadi-//Hôas Conservancy. In the Nama/Damara language, Hoada (pronounced “Waada”) loosely translates to a term meaning “everybody”. True to its name, the campsite has become widely recognised as a pioneer in communal stewardship and conservation success.

The conservancy is home to a significant population of desertadapted elephants, black rhinos and lions. In the past, this abundance often led to frequent human-wildlife conflict, as well as a steep decline in wildlife numbers due to uncontrolled hunting and poaching. Since its registration, the ≠ Khoadi-// Hôas Conservancy has introduced a compensation scheme to reduce the financial burden of such conflict, setting a benchmark for others in the integration of wildlife, livestock and water resources. The conservancy has ensured farmers have elevated water reservoirs, enclosed by a sturdy stone wall to deter curious, yet occasionally aggressive elephants eager to quench their thirst. Today, wildlife numbers continue to recover steadily within the conservancy. Visitors now have the rare chance to witness these endangered animals, unfenced and undisturbed, in their natural environment.

While staying at the campsite, guests can prebook activities offered by Grootberg Lodge (spending the day out before returning to the campsite) or opt for an indulgent camping experience at Hoada itself. One such offering is the Rhino Sleepout: a two-night, fully catered camping trip that pairs the thrill of tracking desert-adapted black rhinos with the wonder of sleeping beneath a quiet, starlit sky.

Yet the conservancy’s impact reaches far beyond simply safeguarding wildlife. The majority of staff at Hoada Campsite and Grootberg Lodge are proudly employed from within the local community, and many, like our guide Deska, are keen storytellers. Deska joined Hoada Campsite eight years ago, initially as a maintenance hand, before completing his training to become a guide. These days, he welcomes guests on the Damara Cultural Walk, a rich and immersive cultural activity unique to the campsite.

A fresh take on cultural tourism

Early the next morning, while it is still dark, I hear the distinctive “cling!” of steel being placed on our stoep. Stepping outside the tent to inspect, I find a Stanley flask of hot water and a basket filled with freshly baked muffins. We seize the opportunity to brew some coffee before Deska arrives. For our walk, we plan to visit nearby conservancy farms and homesteads, including a few local households.

Under Deska’s attentive and knowledgeable lead, the area’s ecological treasures soon start to emerge. We slow down, taking time to examine each fluttering leaf, quartz-streaked stone, industrious dung beetles and even a lazy lizard, perfectly still and sheltered beneath a single tuft of yellow grass. During our walk, trees and plants are identified for their traditional or medicinal uses. At one point, Deska even pulls out a piece of calcified dassie (rock hyrax) dung from his backpack, black and dense like volcanic rock. When placed in hot water and steamed, it is believed to be beneficial for both men and women’s health.

And then, there is the mopane tree. The wondrous, multipurpose Colophospermum mopane is a resilient, drought-resistant tree found throughout Southern Africa. The tree is a vital source of food for insects, birds and larger animals, such as the desert-adapted elephant, which happily gorge on its nutrient-rich, butterfly-shaped leaves. The tree even produces edible wax-like gums on its leaves called “mopane manna”, which are collected and eaten by people and monkeys. In the summer months, the leaves of the mopane tree are fed on by large numbers of dark greyish mopane worms, which can reach almost 10 cm long. These worms are stuffed with protein and are eaten as local cuisine, either roasted over fire or dried. Mopane wood is very robust and commonly used for kraals (an enclosure for livestock), building homes, as well as for firewood. Deska plucks a few ripe pods from a branch and hands them to us to peel open. Inside, a flat, kidney-shaped seed is revealed. When rubbed, it produces a sticky resin and emanates a strong, nutty aroma. Extracted from the seed, mopane oil is used for its soothing and anti-inflammatory properties, as well as its surprisingly effective insect-repellent qualities.

Once on the farmland, Deska’s approach to the cultural walk is refreshingly unscripted and authentic. He reflects on how the ancient traditions and beliefs of the Damara and Nama people have been fundamentally reshaped over recent decades, with many practices fading or entirely forgotten by the younger generation. Opening the door to his own home, he points to a calabash tucked away in the corner. Fresh or curdled milk was traditionally stored in a calabash, a cultivated plant that not only serves as food but, when dried and hollowed out, becomes a durable container, utensil or bowl. He lets us take it in before mischievously holding out a repurposed plastic container filled with milk. “I want to show the real side of our lives.”

Some traditions, though, have stood the test of time.

Scooping water from a bucket and mixing it with a handful of dried cow dung, he demonstrates how to create a claylike paste used to plaster the walls of traditional homes. Every few months, this mixture is reapplied to bolster the walls and keep the house intact. We wrap up the walk with a meal at Deska’s mother’s home, adding an unexpected personal touch to the experience. Plates of steaming oshifima, traditional pap made from ground maize meal, are served with a rich mash of spinach and potato. To round it all off, we are offered a pot of strong, sweet black tea, the flavours earthy and comforting. It is a simple meal, but deeply satisfying, made with care and served with an effortless hospitality that turns strangers into friends.

Just before reaching the campsite, I stop and gesture towards the trees growing straight from solid, unyielding rock, their roots clinging to stone as if by sheer will.

“How is this possible?” I ask Deska, only half-expecting an answer. He smiles and explains. Wind carries fine particles of soil, and over time, it settles into tiny crevices in the rock. Then, against all odds, a seed finds its home, and a tree begins to grow.

It feels like more than just a natural phenomenon. It is a quiet testament to the resilience of this region, how it adapts and endures through drought, heat and the slow passage of time. Much like Hoada Campsite itself: a remote retreat created in a place where few would imagine possible. And yet, it has taken root here, moulded by the land. Thriving.

Madeleen Duvenhage