At dawn, facing the immensity of the dunes, I began the climb up Big Daddy, one of the tallest dunes in the world. The sand, still cool underfoot, crunched softly with every step. With each step, the summit seemed to recede further, but the golden light of sunrise kept me moving.
Around me, the desert lit up gradually under the first glow of day.
At the top, the effort fades before the splendour of the landscape. The ridge, so narrow, seemed to float between two worlds: on one side, a rain-fed lake shimmered, fleeting and unreal in this arid expanse; on the other, Deadvlei stretched out, frozen and silent, like a surreal canvas.
I came back down that steep slope, racing through the sand and laughing, giddy with beauty and adrenaline.
Trees dead for centuries stood on cracked white clay ground, ringed by giant red dunes. The contrast was striking, almost otherworldly.
The kind of image that stays with you, long after.