Namibia is a driver’s paradise — albeit with a few provisos. Can you drive a stick shift? Are you comfortable driving on the left? Do you know how to negotiate a gravel road without turning the vehicle over? And do you have the confidence to face an angry elephant?

The stick shift issue might be avoided if you book in advance. The rental companies at Hosea Kutako International Airport in Windhoek have a few automatic vehicles, but availability is limited. Since I didn’t reserve ahead on my trip, I made do with a gleaming white Toyota Corolla. It wasn’t gleaming for long.

The first major hurdle you will face is the junction with the main road to Windhoek. Turn right and remember to keep left. (Namibia’s left-side custom is a legacy of South African rule; South Africa adopted it from the British; the British inherited it from their medieval knights, who rode left to avoid entangling swords.)

The Corolla is a fine vehicle on the main routes. Once I passed through bustling Windhoek, traffic was sparse. I cruised the smooth ribbon of asphalt at the speed limit, 120 kilometers per hour (75 mph). The speed limit is measured in metric in Namibia, another proviso.

After three hours driving north, I branched off the paved road onto gravel. For the uninitiated, it can be a treacherous surface, similar to driving on ice (ironic, given that the temperature was more than 100 degrees). I dropped my speed to a steady 80 kph (50 mph), easing off the gas whenever I approached a corner. Brake suddenly or turn too sharply and it’s very easy to flip.

By the time I arrived at Okonjima, a private game reserve that has earned a global reputation for rescuing and rehabilitating African big cats, the Corolla was comprehensively covered in dust.

I enjoyed a welcome drink, then transferred to the passenger seat of an open Land Cruiser. We passed through a gate bearing an ominous sign: “Beware! Dangerous Animals.” The vehicle plowed a furrow through long, pale grass. We stopped. The guide stood on his seat and shouted.

Suddenly big cats converged on us from all sides. Cheetahs. The guide reached for a bucket of meat on the back seat and tossed lumps for them. One cheetah jumped onto the front of the vehicle, and we fed him by hand. I was happy to be the passenger.

After two memorable nights at Okonjima, I resumed my solo journey, driving another four hours to Etosha National Park, one of my favorite places on Earth. As I entered the park, the landscape changed. Scrubby ranchland gives way to a dazzling limestone wilderness. Sunglasses are essential to combat the glare.

Cars shimmy and slither over the corrugations of the dirt road, trailing a billow of white dust. Aridity rewards wildlife enthusiasts with two benefits. First, the animals can be seen from a distance. Second, they regularly converge on the waterholes to drink.

Over the course of three wonderful days, I saw gemsbok, springbok, black rhinos, giraffes and lions. But it’s the elephants that got my heart racing. Etosha’s elephants are the biggest on Earth. You can’t truly calibrate what that means until you compare them up close to your rental car.

Mostly the elephants amble by sedately. But occasionally a matriarch or a lone bull will put on an ear-flapping, trunk-waving display of irritation. Of all the driving skills required in Namibia, the ability to find reverse in a hurry is one of the most valuable.