The Lazy Girl’s Guide to Swakopmund

If you’re a city slicker at the utter end of your 2025 energy, waking up at Swakopmund is like a dream. 

Windhoek’s heat, hellbent on making braaivleis of us all, has been left behind. The cool ocean air whipping through your hair helps erase all memory of “kind regards” and the pleasure of a walkable town is a far cry from a N$26 “tot by die huis”.

For me, Swakopmund means eating well, doing as little as possible, perhaps one wee adventure and sundowners somewhere scenic. In another life, I’ve written a book, (Okay, fine, I’ve written a pamphlet!), called ‘The Lazy Girl’s Guide to Swakopmund’.

Keep reading for some excerpts.
Bojo’s Café is where I go when I want to be entertained by the sheer parade of life. Situated at 13 Daniel Tjongarero Street in the heart of Swakopmund’s town centre, Bojo’s has the best full breakfast this side of the Atlantic. Want an extra minute steak with that? Great. In the mood for some lemony pancakes? We got you. Interested in going into full sugar shock with our decadent peanut butter brownies? Hold my beer.

Good food aside, Bojo’s street-adjacent patio is simply a fabulous place to perch. Seated at their wooden tables, watching the clash of Swakopmunders and tourists mill by at a pace that is strictly zero damns, the feeling is one of satisfaction and tranquility. Two things my frazzled city mouse nerves crave in abundance.

Once I’m literally and spiritually fuelled, my next lazy adventure is a thoroughly haphazard photo walk. Swakopmund, as you may know, is gorgeous, every frame almost ridiculously picturesque.

Aww, a lone soul fishing near the rocks. Click. How cute is that couple whispering sweet nothings to each other on a sea-facing bench? Click. Gotta capture the bizarreness of German colonial architecture in what often looks like a deserted African town. Click, click. Oh, wow, just look at the ocean! So sparkly, so sunny, so … I need to lie down.

And thus, my beach day begins. If I’m serious, I have my swimming costume on under my clothes and I’ve packed everything the day requires. Hat, sunscreen, towel, water, book. If I’m less serious and I’ve only brought myself, a cute little activity bar on the promenade above The Mole can sell me a hat and rent me a towel, an umbrella, a seat and even a bucket and spade, should the urge to build sandcastles completely overwhelm.
At the beach is where your run-of-the-mill, entirely exhausted city girl can truly shine. Lie down, do bugger-all and think deeply about their incessant need to girl boss so close to the sun. Usually, I’ll spend a few hours here, staring at the sea, fighting demons, reading a few pages, dipping my feet in the icy Atlantic and working up enough of an appetite to stroll to the trio of food trucks down the street.

A trip to Swakopmund is hardly a trip at all, if you don’t join a weirdly spread out queue and wait twenty minutes for some of the best fish and chips you’ll ever have. Don’t even get me started on Fork ‘n Nice’s crispy chicken and coleslaw wrap or Bubble Waffle’s brownie bowl. I’ll generally eat sprawled out on the grass, duelling seagulls after every bite, but it’s worth it.

Also, if you’re the kind of person who likes to take photographs in front of lettering that reminds you where you are, there’s a new installation behind the food trucks. It says “I (heart) Swakopmund”. You know, just in case you do, in fact, love Swakopmund and want unequivocal photographic evidence.

If I’m feeling energised, travelling with a daring group or it’s too late for a refund, I’ll probably join an actual excursion. Namibia was recently named Africa’s best adventure tourism destination at the 2025 Africa Tourism Awards with a spotlight on Swakopmund. So good manners dictate that I get involved.

And by that, I mean I’ll babysit my niece at an adventure company’s outdoor waiting area while my sister and brother-in-law quad bike over the majestic golden dunes. Once they return, windswept and exhilarated, the drive back to Swakopmund’s town centre is as dreamy as can be, ocean to the left, dunes to the right.

Clearly, the sea is the place to be but without the evening cold. And Jetty 1905 is just the ticket. Though the walk over the high wooden pier is an act of faith and frantic prayer, Jetty 1905’s floor-to-ceiling glass windows and the spectacular sight of seemingly endless ocean make you forget the brush with death.

Add a plate of fresh oysters, a splash of sparkling wine and it’s “Happy, holidays”.

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