Burning Man across the Karoo.
By AI ChatGPT4o-Lucky/T.Chr.-Human Synthesis-06 May 2025
Just six weeks before The Burn, I was on a call with my friend Garry in Canada. He was flying out for the event and said, “You should come too.” An hour later, my ticket was secured.
But then came the catch — every rental vehicle in the region was sold out. I scoured every rental agency I could find, and finally, one helpful woman told me there was one 4x4 left, but only in Windhoek. I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it for a month!” I squealed. She asked for a deposit, but I sent the full amount immediately. Within the hour, I had secured the last 4x4 with a rooftop tent in Southern Africa.
I flew from Johannesburg to Windhoek, collected my chariot, and disappeared into the vast, open bush. In the desert, camping is simple: drive behind a dune, and you become invisible. I spent a few days in Etosha National Park, where the recent rains had transformed the landscape into a thick wall of green. From there, I drove westward toward the sea, down the Skeleton Coast — that fog-drenched stretch of shipwrecks and desolate beauty where the icy Aghulas current meets the bone-dry air of the Namib Desert. Lethal for sailors. Magical for travelers.
Stopping to visit friends along the way made the journey special, but soon, it was Burn time.
Arrival at The Burn
I arrived at the gates of AfrikaBurn on a Sunday evening after grinding for miles over a tire-munching, dust-ridden road. Exhausted but buzzing with excitement, I parked and barely had time to switch off the engine before a stranger walked over and invited me for drinks. “Just bring yourself,” he said. Two minutes later, I was sipping a gin and tonic with new friends, watching the sun dip below the vastness of the Tankwa Karoo.
Most people arrive between Monday and Wednesday, but I wanted the full experience. That night, my new friends gave me a pro tip: get up at 6 a.m., place your chair at the front of the ticketing queue, then move your car in line before grabbing coffee. By 9 a.m., the line had swollen with hundreds. But I was ready.
Garry and I had planned to meet, but with cellphone reception lost somewhere in the dust of yesterday, I had only my instincts. Sure enough, he was right where I expected. After hugs and a cold beer, I set up camp beside his
A World Beyond Money
The moment I saw my first mutant vehicle — a flame-throwing elephant built over a massive truck — I knew I had arrived. The Playa, a flat expanse of about 100 acres, was dotted with fantastical wooden structures, some towering 50 feet high, all destined for fire.
Every detail of this temporary city spoke of generosity. No one is paid. No money changes hands, aside from the purchase of ice. Mechanics, medics, marshals, fire teams, water carriers — all volunteers. A true society of givers. Twice, I was quietly eating next to my van when strangers walked by and invited me for dinner. One grilled steaks. Another slow-roasted a lamb, describing it to me like a love story.
By day, the sun was brutal — bambaclaat hot. At night, the desert turned bitterly cold. When the wind came, it whipped dust devils across the playa, from which there was no escape. But somehow, in the chaos, there was peace.
Burn Night Magic
Saturday night will live in me forever. The mutant vehicles, now glowing with vivid neon and LED art, gathered in electric harmony. Then came the people — thousands of us, weaving through the dust toward the next burn.
I watched the spectacular burning of The Clam, the event’s showpiece, from the roof of a sound truck. As the flames consumed it, fire marshals pulled back — and suddenly, thousands of naked people sprinted joyously around the fire. In the flickering glow, the sight was both primal and hilarious. Some forgot where they’d left their clothes.
Later that night, the massive wooden Phoenix structure was lit. It burned with a ferocity I didn’t expect. As the wings curled inward and fell into flame, I noticed something strange: I was crying. Garry had warned me that some burns could be emotional. He was right. It wasn’t just the art, or the fire — it was everything we brought to the moment that went up in flames.
The music pulsed through the night. Deep bass and rich tones so perfectly tuned that we could dance and hold conversations. That, too, felt magical — like being exactly where you’re meant to be.
Farewell from the Dust
Sunday arrived with a soft sunrise and the whisper of a hangover. Time to break camp and face the long road back to Windhoek.
Now, sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight to Johannesburg, I try to collect my thoughts. But how do you describe something so vast, so open, and so human? AfrikaBurn defies explanation. You have to feel it.
Next up — two weeks exploring the Scottish Highlands by bike.
One love. Always.
***
What Is AfrikaBurn?
AfrikaBurn is the largest regional Burning Man event held in Africa — a unique gathering of artists, creatives, and free spirits who co-create a temporary city of art, performance, and radical self-expression in South Africa’s Tankwa Karoo desert.
Origins and Founding
AfrikaBurn was founded in 2007 by a collective of South African Burners inspired by the principles of the original Burning Man in Nevada. It has since grown into a world-renowned festival rooted in principles of decommodification, gifting, self-reliance, civic responsibility, and leave-no-trace ethics.
Cultural Significance
More than just a party or art show, AfrikaBurn functions as a social experiment — a testing ground for alternative ways of living, giving, and interacting. It creates space for radical creativity, inclusion, and temporary community that breaks down many of the norms and barriers of modern society.
Event Details
- Frequency: Annually
- Location: Tankwa Karoo National Park, Northern Cape, South Africa
- Attendance: Between 10,000 and 13,000 participants
- Next Event: Usually held in late April — specific dates released annually on afrikaburn.com
The End
Editor Notes
I have a long friendship with Lucky from the days we plowed the deep blue sea, Lucy on big charter Catamarans in the Carribbean, and me with a 60ft. motoryacht doing charterwork in the S. Norway archipelago for companies with groups of 12 or so, serving seafood and drinks.
Many years ago, Lucky took a break from the sea and being adventurous, decided to explore jungles of the African South, living in caravans and mixing with the natives. He also explored the mountain areas of Northern Spain by motorbike. He will shortly leave the hot latitudes for the exploration of the Scottish Highlands and look forward to his letters.
