Deadvlei is a white clay pan in the heart of the Namib desert, ringed by some of the tallest dunes on earth, and it looks like a stage set. The pan holds a scatter of camel thorn trees that died perhaps nine hundred years ago, when the river that fed the area changed course and sand blocked its path. The trees have not rotted in the dry air, and they stand blackened by the sun against the white floor and the orange dunes, which is the photograph everyone wants. Sossusvlei, the larger pan, is a short distance away, and Big Daddy, a dune about 325 metres high, rises beside Deadvlei. There are no towns for a very long way.
The ride to Sossusvlei is along a tarred road from Sesriem, about sixty kilometres long, which runs through the park as the dunes grow larger and redder. The last few kilometres to Deadvlei are a sandy track suited only to four-wheel drive, with a shuttle available from a car park, so riders usually leave their bikes at the paved end and walk or take the shuttle. The walk to the pan from the track takes about fifteen minutes over loose sand. Heat is a serious hazard, as the desert sun is fierce and shade is rare.
Sesriem, at the park entrance, has fuel, a campsite and a lodge, but little else, so you should have your tank full and carry water. The gates open at sunrise and close at sunset, and entry is paid. To see the dunes at their best, arrive at dawn, when the sand glows deep red and the shadows are long, and the temperature is pleasant. By midday, the pan is baking, and there is no reason to stay.
Life is present, if you look. Beetles, geckos and snakes live among the dunes, and oryx and springbok walk the pans. Fog from the Atlantic brings enough moisture for some plants and insects, which drink the condensation. The Namib is thought to be the oldest desert in the world, and the silence is thick. Take nothing and leave nothing, and give yourself time to simply sit.