The GPS diligently led me through shacks and narrow tar-less streets to an incorrect location. Temperatures already climbed into the thirties at 8am in the morning. I back tracked a bit and passed a young girl with her books under her arm and a bright blue t-shirt on.

When rumours started flying that dune mining might be allowed at the Wild coast, tempers flared and serious discussions started happening around the water cooler. Fires were cooked all the way up to the minister of environmental affairs, and rightfully so.