June 30th
The journey through Malawi and into Tanzania was a long one, with plenty more exciting police stops. Our day had started at 4am, so most of the group was fast asleep for the first hours, mouths hanging open and heads flopped against the windows, as we drove along with African sunrise. As we rubbed our eyes and cracked open the peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast on the road, we found ourselves at the first police stop of the day. This guy must have had a bit of a "lay in" (what the Brits call "sleeping in") and not had time for breakfast, because he invited himself into the cab of our truck, alongside Paul (our overland truck driver, amibcably called Mr. P) and Jacquie (our tour leader), taking their breakfast sandwiches right from their hands. He must have missed his morning paper as well, because he opened the window to the back, where us 21 tourists sat, asking for any magazines we might have. Shortly after we pulled away, the police officer strolling off, peanut butter sandwich, Cosmo and Marie Claire in hand.
They aren't big on road signage here (go figure), so as Mr. P cruises through another village of mud huts, we get pulled over by the police, armed with radar guns. They claim we were speeding, in a zone unmarked with speed limits. We pulled over behind a line of nearly 15 trucks and cars in a similar predicament, with the mid-day sun turning our truck into a small oven of white people. After nearly 30 minutes of waiting, we began to wonder what was going on. Turns out that Mr. P was in line for the courthouse, waiting for his case to be heard. Across the road sat a scrappy building which housed a Tanzanian courtroom, where drivers caught 'speeding' were tried at the scene of the crime. Unfortunately Mr. P was found guilty, and an hour later we were back on the road.
Our lunch stop for the day included our first encounter with the Masai people. In their traditional attire (google it for pics), they strolled along the highway, Mr. P. calling out to say hello. Mr. P is Kenyan himself, so referred to the two men as his brothers, and soon enough he and Jacquie (who also speaks Swahili) were chatting with them. We offered parts of our lunch, but Masai people prefer meals of blood and milk, as opposed to our canned corn and processed lunch meats. They did enjoy our bean salad, the most natural food we could offer. What I found interesting was our groups reaction to their presence. Unlike many of our other encounters with local people, we weren't rushing to our cameras, but rather stood back, and went on with our lunches as if having Masai people joining you for a lunch picnic was a regular occurance.
We finally arrive at our quaint mountain destanation, "The Farmhouse," nestled amongst a classic African landscape. We had gone up in altitude, so our running group found that day's run to be challenging, not to mention the effects of having spent 12 hours on the truck.
More details on the Farmhouse and our journey to Dar es Salaam to come....
Malawi
June 25
My overland tour officially set off from Livingstone, Zambia on Sunday, June 22. It was an early morning with a long day of driving to Lusaka, the capital of Zambia (as opposed to Chipata, which I said in my previous post).
There's a commonly used expression around here- "Only in Africa." It's used to describe pretty well anything that would otherwise surprise you. For example, the 2ft deep potholes that span the width of the road, or the police stops every 100km, or the concept of African time (which involves exponential multiplication of a specified time or duration).
I am truly in rural Africa now. Hot showers and internet are sparse. The cross-continental driving is an eye-opening experience, to say the least. The culture shock is immense, and I have nearly been brought to tears on a daily basis.
There is no longer the comfort of a television screen sitting between me and the images of starving children as I enjoy my hot meals. We stopped for lunch on our way to Lusaka, pulling off the 'highway' to prepare our meal. While we thought we were in a secluded area, in the middle of nowhere, we quickly learned that in Africa, you are never alone. Within minutes a group of children were scampering towards us. Barefoot, dust-covered, and swollen stomachs, they were mesmerized by us- 'the aliens had landed.' Who knows where they had come from, as there were no villages in sight. As we sliced our tomatoes and set out the bread and butter, the group of children, which grew larger with every passing minute, slowly made their way towards us, giggling, pointing, and staring.
We made our sandwiches and plopped into the dust to enjoy our lunch... only not a single one of us actually enjoyed our food. Our guide, a white Zimbabwean carrying an Irish passport, explained that unless we had food for all of them (the group was nearly 30 now...), we simply couldn't pass out our food. They would viciously fight for the scraps, leaving us to witness a scene even more disturbing. To keep from sounding like I'm describing a pack of wild animals, I must point out that these were the friendliest, more adorable children I have ever seen. And from my time in the kids program at Cleve's, I've seen a lot of kids. It's fascinating how the poorest of the poor will always return a smile and a wave. Not only could we have caused a serious scramble amongst the children, there are political implications in a group of white tourists simply giving away their food. Not that I feel it's my place to teach any of them a lesson, but I am not necessarily helping anyone in the big picture by rewarding begging- which leads the children to believe that if you beg from the whites, you shall receive. For true sustenance, the simple process of working for your food (money aside), must be learned. This is a fundamental believe in many world-aid organizations.
We packed up our lunch spot and moved on, without a morsel of food handed out. The children jumped and cheered and beamed their friendly smiles as we pulled away.
After a short night in Lusaka, we had a 4:30am departure for Chipata, which lies 20km short of the border to Malawi. We arrived early and a group of us decided to head out of a run to explore some of the rugged village and countryside. I was ecstatic to know that I had runners amongst me, since I was struggling with the long days sitting on the bus. We poured out our pent-up energy in a good 12km run, where we got a direct taste of the culture. It was clear that Africans are natural runners when an adorable 5 year old girl, on her way home from school, joins us in our run for nearly 4km. She was in a dress and bare feet with a book bag bouncing on her back.
It was on Monday evening that we heard news of the Zimbabwean opposition withdrawing from the election. I consider myself lucky to be so close to all of this (but at a safe distance), since I am hearing a variety of unique perspectives. As I mentioned, my tour leader is Zimbabwean, and we also have a South African on our trip. Both believe that the withdrawal is a 'ploy,' in an attempt to garner the international attention that the situation direly needs. The election is on Friday, so we'll see what comes of it.
Last night night we stayed in Lilongwe, Malawi. Mom and Dad- I shipped a rather large parcel, shaped like a 4.5ft tall wooden-carved giraffe. The running crew managed to squeeze in a late-afternoon run along the beach before jumping into beautiful Lake Malawi for a swim. Luckily I didn't have any anxiety issues and had a fantastic swim far out into the lake.
Before breakfast today the we went for a nice 30minute run along the main road outside our campsite. All of the children were on their way to school and joined us as we made our way through town. If you've seen the movie "Ali", the experience was much like his run through an African village. The children swarmed us, laughing and pointing at our shoes (an absolute absurdity around here), cheering us on as we ran. I couldn't have asked for a better way to see the most rural parts of this continent.
I'm now at Kande Beach on Lake Malawi and have a full day to relax and enjoy the scenery around here.
Posting photos isn't an option here, but I'll put some up as soon as I have the opportunity.
Tonight we've got a tropical punch night (featuring cane, a local liquor, and the cheapest vodka we could find) on this idyllic beach.... and the vacation continues.
My overland tour officially set off from Livingstone, Zambia on Sunday, June 22. It was an early morning with a long day of driving to Lusaka, the capital of Zambia (as opposed to Chipata, which I said in my previous post).
There's a commonly used expression around here- "Only in Africa." It's used to describe pretty well anything that would otherwise surprise you. For example, the 2ft deep potholes that span the width of the road, or the police stops every 100km, or the concept of African time (which involves exponential multiplication of a specified time or duration).
I am truly in rural Africa now. Hot showers and internet are sparse. The cross-continental driving is an eye-opening experience, to say the least. The culture shock is immense, and I have nearly been brought to tears on a daily basis.
There is no longer the comfort of a television screen sitting between me and the images of starving children as I enjoy my hot meals. We stopped for lunch on our way to Lusaka, pulling off the 'highway' to prepare our meal. While we thought we were in a secluded area, in the middle of nowhere, we quickly learned that in Africa, you are never alone. Within minutes a group of children were scampering towards us. Barefoot, dust-covered, and swollen stomachs, they were mesmerized by us- 'the aliens had landed.' Who knows where they had come from, as there were no villages in sight. As we sliced our tomatoes and set out the bread and butter, the group of children, which grew larger with every passing minute, slowly made their way towards us, giggling, pointing, and staring.
We made our sandwiches and plopped into the dust to enjoy our lunch... only not a single one of us actually enjoyed our food. Our guide, a white Zimbabwean carrying an Irish passport, explained that unless we had food for all of them (the group was nearly 30 now...), we simply couldn't pass out our food. They would viciously fight for the scraps, leaving us to witness a scene even more disturbing. To keep from sounding like I'm describing a pack of wild animals, I must point out that these were the friendliest, more adorable children I have ever seen. And from my time in the kids program at Cleve's, I've seen a lot of kids. It's fascinating how the poorest of the poor will always return a smile and a wave. Not only could we have caused a serious scramble amongst the children, there are political implications in a group of white tourists simply giving away their food. Not that I feel it's my place to teach any of them a lesson, but I am not necessarily helping anyone in the big picture by rewarding begging- which leads the children to believe that if you beg from the whites, you shall receive. For true sustenance, the simple process of working for your food (money aside), must be learned. This is a fundamental believe in many world-aid organizations.
We packed up our lunch spot and moved on, without a morsel of food handed out. The children jumped and cheered and beamed their friendly smiles as we pulled away.
After a short night in Lusaka, we had a 4:30am departure for Chipata, which lies 20km short of the border to Malawi. We arrived early and a group of us decided to head out of a run to explore some of the rugged village and countryside. I was ecstatic to know that I had runners amongst me, since I was struggling with the long days sitting on the bus. We poured out our pent-up energy in a good 12km run, where we got a direct taste of the culture. It was clear that Africans are natural runners when an adorable 5 year old girl, on her way home from school, joins us in our run for nearly 4km. She was in a dress and bare feet with a book bag bouncing on her back.
It was on Monday evening that we heard news of the Zimbabwean opposition withdrawing from the election. I consider myself lucky to be so close to all of this (but at a safe distance), since I am hearing a variety of unique perspectives. As I mentioned, my tour leader is Zimbabwean, and we also have a South African on our trip. Both believe that the withdrawal is a 'ploy,' in an attempt to garner the international attention that the situation direly needs. The election is on Friday, so we'll see what comes of it.
Last night night we stayed in Lilongwe, Malawi. Mom and Dad- I shipped a rather large parcel, shaped like a 4.5ft tall wooden-carved giraffe. The running crew managed to squeeze in a late-afternoon run along the beach before jumping into beautiful Lake Malawi for a swim. Luckily I didn't have any anxiety issues and had a fantastic swim far out into the lake.
Before breakfast today the we went for a nice 30minute run along the main road outside our campsite. All of the children were on their way to school and joined us as we made our way through town. If you've seen the movie "Ali", the experience was much like his run through an African village. The children swarmed us, laughing and pointing at our shoes (an absolute absurdity around here), cheering us on as we ran. I couldn't have asked for a better way to see the most rural parts of this continent.
I'm now at Kande Beach on Lake Malawi and have a full day to relax and enjoy the scenery around here.
Posting photos isn't an option here, but I'll put some up as soon as I have the opportunity.
Tonight we've got a tropical punch night (featuring cane, a local liquor, and the cheapest vodka we could find) on this idyllic beach.... and the vacation continues.
My 22nd Birthday
June 21
I could have been locked in my bedroom with nothing to do yesterday and I would have had a great day- I am just happy to have been alive to see my 22nd birthday!
I forgot to mention two tidbits about my near-drowning incident:
1) There were baby crocodiles along the river banks. When I asked the guide if it was safe to be in the same river, he said, "It's ok they're babies!", to which I replied, "Yes, I can see that. But where are their moms and dads?"
2) The rapid that nearly ended my African Adventure was called "The Terminator." I kid you not.
I'm lucky to have two nurses in my overlanding group who helped me sort out which antibiotics I needed to avoid getting pneumonia, a common side effect of near-drownings. All drugs are 'over the counter' if you're a white tourist, so no need for a prescription.
I opted for the land-based activity for my birthday, and played paintball in the Zambian bush. One of the flag bases was a tiny African village. It wasn't until we saw a 13yr old boy emerge from one of the huts with North American hip hop beats playing did we realize that people actually lived in this village. It was ironic, considering that village warfare could very well be a reality for these people.
No serious bruises to report, but as I lay in the brush taking aim at the opponent, I saw a brown snake, about 3 feet long, slither past me. Even though I had a great shot, and a handful of paint balls left, I freaked out and surrendered, running for my life out of the playing field. The locals running the game didn't know what kind of snake it was...
Later that afternoon, I set aside my newfound fear of water and braved the mighty Zambezi once again, this time on a much bigger boat on much calmer water. About 16 of us from the overland group boarded the sunset dinner cruise, or more appropriately the sunset booze cruise. We sipped our local beers and spirits while watching the sun go down on the river, cruising by a herd of bathing hippos! I got some great photos of them yawning (they can open their jaws nearly 150 degrees), revealing their massive mouths and teeth.
I was surprised with a birthday chocolate sprinkle donut by the two Canadian nurses, topped with matches (candles are hard to come by), and my tour guide got me a little stone hippo carving from a day trip into Zimbabwe.
We're heading over to see the falls later this afternoon, where I plan to trade my blister-causing flip flops for a few bracelets. I've heard the Zimbabweans are desperate for clothing, and that they love trading. Tomorrow we head to the Luangwa River and Lusaka, then to Chipata, the capital of Zambia, before crossing into Malawi.
I could have been locked in my bedroom with nothing to do yesterday and I would have had a great day- I am just happy to have been alive to see my 22nd birthday!
I forgot to mention two tidbits about my near-drowning incident:
1) There were baby crocodiles along the river banks. When I asked the guide if it was safe to be in the same river, he said, "It's ok they're babies!", to which I replied, "Yes, I can see that. But where are their moms and dads?"
2) The rapid that nearly ended my African Adventure was called "The Terminator." I kid you not.
I'm lucky to have two nurses in my overlanding group who helped me sort out which antibiotics I needed to avoid getting pneumonia, a common side effect of near-drownings. All drugs are 'over the counter' if you're a white tourist, so no need for a prescription.
I opted for the land-based activity for my birthday, and played paintball in the Zambian bush. One of the flag bases was a tiny African village. It wasn't until we saw a 13yr old boy emerge from one of the huts with North American hip hop beats playing did we realize that people actually lived in this village. It was ironic, considering that village warfare could very well be a reality for these people.
No serious bruises to report, but as I lay in the brush taking aim at the opponent, I saw a brown snake, about 3 feet long, slither past me. Even though I had a great shot, and a handful of paint balls left, I freaked out and surrendered, running for my life out of the playing field. The locals running the game didn't know what kind of snake it was...
Later that afternoon, I set aside my newfound fear of water and braved the mighty Zambezi once again, this time on a much bigger boat on much calmer water. About 16 of us from the overland group boarded the sunset dinner cruise, or more appropriately the sunset booze cruise. We sipped our local beers and spirits while watching the sun go down on the river, cruising by a herd of bathing hippos! I got some great photos of them yawning (they can open their jaws nearly 150 degrees), revealing their massive mouths and teeth.
I was surprised with a birthday chocolate sprinkle donut by the two Canadian nurses, topped with matches (candles are hard to come by), and my tour guide got me a little stone hippo carving from a day trip into Zimbabwe.
We're heading over to see the falls later this afternoon, where I plan to trade my blister-causing flip flops for a few bracelets. I've heard the Zimbabweans are desperate for clothing, and that they love trading. Tomorrow we head to the Luangwa River and Lusaka, then to Chipata, the capital of Zambia, before crossing into Malawi.
Almost died today....
June 19
I bet you've all been waiting for that blog title. The ironic thing is that it could have happened at home just as easily.
I met most of the group that I'll be with for the next 21 days last night, and opted to go whitewater rafting with them today, rather than abseil.
After all of the standard indemnities were signed (as would be the case anywhere in the world), we trekked into the gorge of the mighty Zambezi river which runs between Zimbabwe and Zambia. Having been rafting in Ottawa, I'm happy to report that the experience was pretty well identical- equipment, guide knowledge, safety training... all of it. I trusted both my guide and the equipment. The river, on the other hand, not so much.
Turns out my gut instinct was right! On our 4th rapid the raft flipped, and we held onto the safety lines as we bobbed downstream, where we would upright our raft. We manage to get the boat upright and our guide begins hauling each of us back into the raft. As I'm holding onto the rope safety line, which is attached to the rim of the boat, waiting for my turn to be pulled in, I was suddenly sucked under water.
Within seconds I knew I was trapped in a whirlpool, where no amount of swimming strength was going to save me. I did my best to stay calm, continuing to kick towards the surface despite the overpowering force of the water down on me. I had no sense of time, but I obviously began to run out of air, and became increasingly desperate.
When I started to inhale water, I knew I was drowning. Panic set in and I kicked harder and harder, demanding oxygen that I didn't have. Sucking in water, I lost my orientation in the water and quite vividly remember thinking,
"Oh my god, I'm drowning. I am going to die."
(Note: I did not die)
After that thought I started to see spots and in a last ditch attempt, kicked (turns out it was in the right direction) one last time. My head slammed into something and I saw a blur of yellow amongst the white spots.
At that point I knew I had made it out of the whirlpool and actually had a chance of breathing again, if I just found my way to the edge of the boat, where I could surface.
I pulled myself over to the edge of the boat, which had drifted into more rapids at this point, and sucked in the air as I surfaced. I didn't have an ounce of strength left in my body to hold on anymore, so I was lucky to have my guide grab my life jacket as I fell unconscious.
Slouching in the boat after I was pulled in, I came to but don't remember much. My fellow rafters tell me my eyes were rolling back into my head before I began throwing up.
I regained full consciousness within a minute or two as I struggled through throwing up and coughing. But it wasn't over yet.
Since my 'rescue' was the focus of the guides' attention, we had fallen into the path of the next rapids, and flipped within 2 minutes of my getting back into the boat. This time I panicked immediately and was convinced that the Zambezi river wanted me dead.
Luckily, as I pummeled through the second set of rapids, I was washed into another raft, and was yanked into their boat within seconds. Still coughing and throwing up, I had some sense of what was going on and broke into tears, and have never been more scared in my life.
The group I will be traveling with were all very concerned, and I was incredibly relieved to have them nearby as I got through the shock. We reached a fully calm, flat area and pulled over where I recovered while we sorted out the missing paddles and rearranged the boats.
The only way down was through the next 8 rapids, so I gripped on, literally for my life, and we made it safely to the bottom.
Now that I'm on dry land, I am keeping a close eye on my overall health- for any infections or stomach illness as a result of the enormous amount of ingested river water, and for the possibility of pneumonia.
Not that "near-death experience" was on my list of things to do while in Africa, I can now say I've had one. For the record, I will never go whitewater rafting again.
Side note: Keep me up to date on your lives, please! I love getting emails from friends/family at home, so keep writing.
I bet you've all been waiting for that blog title. The ironic thing is that it could have happened at home just as easily.
I met most of the group that I'll be with for the next 21 days last night, and opted to go whitewater rafting with them today, rather than abseil.
After all of the standard indemnities were signed (as would be the case anywhere in the world), we trekked into the gorge of the mighty Zambezi river which runs between Zimbabwe and Zambia. Having been rafting in Ottawa, I'm happy to report that the experience was pretty well identical- equipment, guide knowledge, safety training... all of it. I trusted both my guide and the equipment. The river, on the other hand, not so much.
Turns out my gut instinct was right! On our 4th rapid the raft flipped, and we held onto the safety lines as we bobbed downstream, where we would upright our raft. We manage to get the boat upright and our guide begins hauling each of us back into the raft. As I'm holding onto the rope safety line, which is attached to the rim of the boat, waiting for my turn to be pulled in, I was suddenly sucked under water.
Within seconds I knew I was trapped in a whirlpool, where no amount of swimming strength was going to save me. I did my best to stay calm, continuing to kick towards the surface despite the overpowering force of the water down on me. I had no sense of time, but I obviously began to run out of air, and became increasingly desperate.
When I started to inhale water, I knew I was drowning. Panic set in and I kicked harder and harder, demanding oxygen that I didn't have. Sucking in water, I lost my orientation in the water and quite vividly remember thinking,
"Oh my god, I'm drowning. I am going to die."
(Note: I did not die)
After that thought I started to see spots and in a last ditch attempt, kicked (turns out it was in the right direction) one last time. My head slammed into something and I saw a blur of yellow amongst the white spots.
At that point I knew I had made it out of the whirlpool and actually had a chance of breathing again, if I just found my way to the edge of the boat, where I could surface.
I pulled myself over to the edge of the boat, which had drifted into more rapids at this point, and sucked in the air as I surfaced. I didn't have an ounce of strength left in my body to hold on anymore, so I was lucky to have my guide grab my life jacket as I fell unconscious.
Slouching in the boat after I was pulled in, I came to but don't remember much. My fellow rafters tell me my eyes were rolling back into my head before I began throwing up.
I regained full consciousness within a minute or two as I struggled through throwing up and coughing. But it wasn't over yet.
Since my 'rescue' was the focus of the guides' attention, we had fallen into the path of the next rapids, and flipped within 2 minutes of my getting back into the boat. This time I panicked immediately and was convinced that the Zambezi river wanted me dead.
Luckily, as I pummeled through the second set of rapids, I was washed into another raft, and was yanked into their boat within seconds. Still coughing and throwing up, I had some sense of what was going on and broke into tears, and have never been more scared in my life.
The group I will be traveling with were all very concerned, and I was incredibly relieved to have them nearby as I got through the shock. We reached a fully calm, flat area and pulled over where I recovered while we sorted out the missing paddles and rearranged the boats.
The only way down was through the next 8 rapids, so I gripped on, literally for my life, and we made it safely to the bottom.
Now that I'm on dry land, I am keeping a close eye on my overall health- for any infections or stomach illness as a result of the enormous amount of ingested river water, and for the possibility of pneumonia.
Not that "near-death experience" was on my list of things to do while in Africa, I can now say I've had one. For the record, I will never go whitewater rafting again.
Side note: Keep me up to date on your lives, please! I love getting emails from friends/family at home, so keep writing.
The Zimbabwe to Zambia Adventure
June 18th
The whole ordeal nearly brought me to tears. Somehow I found myself in business class on my flight to Victoria Falls this morning... but that was the end of my good luck. The stewardess handed me an immigration form, only it was for the Government of Zimbabwe. I didn't think I was going to Zimbabwe. Turns out I was wrong, and that I needed a serious lesson in the geography of the area I was traveling.
Victoria Falls Airport is, so it turns out, in Zimbabwe. I bought my visa and meandered out to the small room that housed the basics of an airport. A row of chairs and a 'check in' booth. It was pretty clear that I wasn't going to find a formal taxi service, so when a guy approached me with a sign saying "taxi/airport transfer," I figured that was my best bet. He took my bag and off we went to his "taxi," or for the sake of this story, "decrepit car No.1."
I clarified my whereabouts with my friendly driver, who spoke very good english and was rather reassuring. We made it safely through two police stops, and had some polite chit chat about the upcoming elections. There were a million things I would have liked to ask him, but I didn't want to pry... it's a touchy subject.
Once on the road to the Zambian border, it became clear that I was in a different kind of Africa. It was culture shock from South Africa, big time.
We pulled up to a standard, sketchy looking african hut thing, with a rickety sign indicating that I was at the border. My driver sent me in and said his farewells- he wouldn't be crossing the border. I caught the attention of an 'official' sitting behind the glass wall and, after some confusion, had a post-it type piece of paper in my hand with a stamp and scribble. I didn't know what that was for.
I walked towards the gate that separates the countries (or so I think), where locals were milling about in the afternoon heat. I walk through to hear someone yelling and pointing. I've learned to ignore things like that... thinking they are attempts at distracting me. Turns out I had walked right past another "official" who was supposed to collect my little slip of paper. This official was in sweatpants and wearing a dirty red t-shirt. I was convinced this was a ploy and was prepared to give him nothing. Words were exchanged. The message was clear, he was actually an official, and I wasn't going anywhere until I gave him the damn slip. So I passed it over and went hunting for my next taxi.
I bartered with a few guys (this time they were 'official taxi drivers'), and got into decrepit car No.2. I didn't think this car would make it 50ft, but it did, and I was dropped at another office. The driver pulled me through the crowd of locals looking to cross into Zambia and where he directed me to the front of a 60 person line. At this point I was out of cash. Between the two cabs, and the visa, I was clean out. I was told I would need to pay $75US for a Zambian visa. Did they take credit card, debit card, traveller's cheques? ha. No way. The "official" directed me to a nearby hotel where I spent 20minutes sorting out which currency I needed... how many millions of Zambia or Zimbabwean... who knows.
Since the cabbie waited while I got the cash, I was told I would have to pay an additional $20US to get back to the border (a distance of maybe 300m). I was in no place to argue. I had to get back, since the 'border official' had clearly stated that if I did not get the stamp from him, I would be arrested, which he acted out for me in case I didn't understand the term "arrested." So fun!
Upon my return to the border, I stood in front of a different 'border official.' According to this guy, my visa would only cost $50US. My first taste of the corruption. But hey, it worked in my favour. Too bad I didn't get the $30 guy. This official had a particular interest in my Canadian heritage, so much, in fact, that he asked for my email address. Making up a fake email address when you're standing in a third world border office as the only white person in sight was not easy. As he processed my 'visa' I managed to come up with something and passed it over. Just my luck he begins to inquire about my "4bgjalberta@yahoo.com" address. I tell him alberta is the company I work for, and that the '4bgj' before it ensure that the emails come to me, as opposed to a co-worker. He was concerned it might go to the wrong person at the office.
I started to second guess that move, seeing as he had my passport, with all of my actual information directly in front of him. Hopefully he doesn't try to send an email while I'm still in Zambia.... he may have buddies at the other end who won't let me out when the email doesn't send. Oh the paranoia.
After another 2 police stops along the road, I finally made it to the oasis that is the "Zambezi Waterfront." Beautiful grounds overlooking the Zambezi river with multiple pools, bars and even internet! Lots of tourists around, so I'm finally at ease again.
I've booked myself in for abseiling tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to choosing an adventure for my birthday on Friday- bungee jumping the falls, whitewater rafting.... what will it be??
The whole ordeal nearly brought me to tears. Somehow I found myself in business class on my flight to Victoria Falls this morning... but that was the end of my good luck. The stewardess handed me an immigration form, only it was for the Government of Zimbabwe. I didn't think I was going to Zimbabwe. Turns out I was wrong, and that I needed a serious lesson in the geography of the area I was traveling.
Victoria Falls Airport is, so it turns out, in Zimbabwe. I bought my visa and meandered out to the small room that housed the basics of an airport. A row of chairs and a 'check in' booth. It was pretty clear that I wasn't going to find a formal taxi service, so when a guy approached me with a sign saying "taxi/airport transfer," I figured that was my best bet. He took my bag and off we went to his "taxi," or for the sake of this story, "decrepit car No.1."
I clarified my whereabouts with my friendly driver, who spoke very good english and was rather reassuring. We made it safely through two police stops, and had some polite chit chat about the upcoming elections. There were a million things I would have liked to ask him, but I didn't want to pry... it's a touchy subject.
Once on the road to the Zambian border, it became clear that I was in a different kind of Africa. It was culture shock from South Africa, big time.
We pulled up to a standard, sketchy looking african hut thing, with a rickety sign indicating that I was at the border. My driver sent me in and said his farewells- he wouldn't be crossing the border. I caught the attention of an 'official' sitting behind the glass wall and, after some confusion, had a post-it type piece of paper in my hand with a stamp and scribble. I didn't know what that was for.
I walked towards the gate that separates the countries (or so I think), where locals were milling about in the afternoon heat. I walk through to hear someone yelling and pointing. I've learned to ignore things like that... thinking they are attempts at distracting me. Turns out I had walked right past another "official" who was supposed to collect my little slip of paper. This official was in sweatpants and wearing a dirty red t-shirt. I was convinced this was a ploy and was prepared to give him nothing. Words were exchanged. The message was clear, he was actually an official, and I wasn't going anywhere until I gave him the damn slip. So I passed it over and went hunting for my next taxi.
I bartered with a few guys (this time they were 'official taxi drivers'), and got into decrepit car No.2. I didn't think this car would make it 50ft, but it did, and I was dropped at another office. The driver pulled me through the crowd of locals looking to cross into Zambia and where he directed me to the front of a 60 person line. At this point I was out of cash. Between the two cabs, and the visa, I was clean out. I was told I would need to pay $75US for a Zambian visa. Did they take credit card, debit card, traveller's cheques? ha. No way. The "official" directed me to a nearby hotel where I spent 20minutes sorting out which currency I needed... how many millions of Zambia or Zimbabwean... who knows.
Since the cabbie waited while I got the cash, I was told I would have to pay an additional $20US to get back to the border (a distance of maybe 300m). I was in no place to argue. I had to get back, since the 'border official' had clearly stated that if I did not get the stamp from him, I would be arrested, which he acted out for me in case I didn't understand the term "arrested." So fun!
Upon my return to the border, I stood in front of a different 'border official.' According to this guy, my visa would only cost $50US. My first taste of the corruption. But hey, it worked in my favour. Too bad I didn't get the $30 guy. This official had a particular interest in my Canadian heritage, so much, in fact, that he asked for my email address. Making up a fake email address when you're standing in a third world border office as the only white person in sight was not easy. As he processed my 'visa' I managed to come up with something and passed it over. Just my luck he begins to inquire about my "4bgjalberta@yahoo.com" address. I tell him alberta is the company I work for, and that the '4bgj' before it ensure that the emails come to me, as opposed to a co-worker. He was concerned it might go to the wrong person at the office.
I started to second guess that move, seeing as he had my passport, with all of my actual information directly in front of him. Hopefully he doesn't try to send an email while I'm still in Zambia.... he may have buddies at the other end who won't let me out when the email doesn't send. Oh the paranoia.
After another 2 police stops along the road, I finally made it to the oasis that is the "Zambezi Waterfront." Beautiful grounds overlooking the Zambezi river with multiple pools, bars and even internet! Lots of tourists around, so I'm finally at ease again.
I've booked myself in for abseiling tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to choosing an adventure for my birthday on Friday- bungee jumping the falls, whitewater rafting.... what will it be??
Kitesurfing Pics
Some more kitesurfing pictures from Blouberg (I should point out that they are not photos of me...):
Kruger National Park
June 14-17
I was picked up bright 'n early from my Jo'burg backpackers where Pastor, my guide, and I set off for Kruger. We traveled along the Panorama route, offering spectacular views of the Drakensberg Mountain Range.
We made it to the Timbavari Safari Lodge which sits about 30km outside the Oren gate to Kruger. The lodge was run by three keen animal lovers- a Rhodesian, a Brit, and a Kiwi. The housekeeping and kitchen staff were all locals from the tiny remote village across the road. I had a very comfortable safari hut all to myself with a fantastic stone shower, all overlooking the bush. Since we arrived late-afternoon, the lodge was empty with all of the guest off in the park. I wandered through a bush trail nearby and had my first animals encounters- an Impala and some kind of monkey. I enjoyed my first safari sunset making my way back toward the lodge where the bar was opening up next to the pool.
A delicious feast of local foods was served at 7:30, followed by a lively game of '30 seconds' (a verbal version of cherades... so you can imagine how much I loved it!!!) with some tourist from Jo'burg, an Italian couple and a Dutch couple.
They start the show early in the world of game driving. I was up at 5am to get some coffee in my system before we head to the gate for the 6am opening. We switched into our open-aired safari truck and headed off for our morning drive as the sun came up. Pastor navigated through the chilly park with three ladies in the back: myself, a British girl on a 3 week holiday for her 30th birthday, and an Aussie who was studying political science in Jo'burg.
My first spot was a pair of jackals, which are monogamous dog-like animals. The park is home to thousands of impalas, of which we saw plenty. I saw over 50 animals that day, but these are the ones I can remember off the top of my head (not to worry, I kept an official list):
giraffe (my favourite!), zebra, african elephant, kudu, wildebeast, bush baby, guinea fowl, african fish eagle, white rhino, hippos, nile crocodile, warthog, stork, and spotted hyena, to name a few....
We had an unreal fry-up next to a watering hole with zebra and warthog looking on. Eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, toast, baked beans, and coffee. Awesome!!
We drove for 12 hours that day, covering over 400km of Kruger (the size of Isreal!). Once the lights go out we were using spotlights to spot the animals in the dark- mostly just looking for cat eyes to catch the light.
I enjoyed delicious camp out food throughout the day, and spent the night in a tent all by myself, with no more than a 10ft fence and an armed guard between me and the wild. Hyenas sung me to sleep as I curled up at the early hour of 8:30pm.
The tour finished off with a final morning drive before the long 5 hour drive back to Johannesburg.
I'm having trouble uploading photos, as I'm writing from a remote lodge in Zambia. Hopefully I'll be able to post some of the incredible animal shots soon!!
I was picked up bright 'n early from my Jo'burg backpackers where Pastor, my guide, and I set off for Kruger. We traveled along the Panorama route, offering spectacular views of the Drakensberg Mountain Range.
We made it to the Timbavari Safari Lodge which sits about 30km outside the Oren gate to Kruger. The lodge was run by three keen animal lovers- a Rhodesian, a Brit, and a Kiwi. The housekeeping and kitchen staff were all locals from the tiny remote village across the road. I had a very comfortable safari hut all to myself with a fantastic stone shower, all overlooking the bush. Since we arrived late-afternoon, the lodge was empty with all of the guest off in the park. I wandered through a bush trail nearby and had my first animals encounters- an Impala and some kind of monkey. I enjoyed my first safari sunset making my way back toward the lodge where the bar was opening up next to the pool.
A delicious feast of local foods was served at 7:30, followed by a lively game of '30 seconds' (a verbal version of cherades... so you can imagine how much I loved it!!!) with some tourist from Jo'burg, an Italian couple and a Dutch couple.
They start the show early in the world of game driving. I was up at 5am to get some coffee in my system before we head to the gate for the 6am opening. We switched into our open-aired safari truck and headed off for our morning drive as the sun came up. Pastor navigated through the chilly park with three ladies in the back: myself, a British girl on a 3 week holiday for her 30th birthday, and an Aussie who was studying political science in Jo'burg.
My first spot was a pair of jackals, which are monogamous dog-like animals. The park is home to thousands of impalas, of which we saw plenty. I saw over 50 animals that day, but these are the ones I can remember off the top of my head (not to worry, I kept an official list):
giraffe (my favourite!), zebra, african elephant, kudu, wildebeast, bush baby, guinea fowl, african fish eagle, white rhino, hippos, nile crocodile, warthog, stork, and spotted hyena, to name a few....
We had an unreal fry-up next to a watering hole with zebra and warthog looking on. Eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, toast, baked beans, and coffee. Awesome!!
We drove for 12 hours that day, covering over 400km of Kruger (the size of Isreal!). Once the lights go out we were using spotlights to spot the animals in the dark- mostly just looking for cat eyes to catch the light.
I enjoyed delicious camp out food throughout the day, and spent the night in a tent all by myself, with no more than a 10ft fence and an armed guard between me and the wild. Hyenas sung me to sleep as I curled up at the early hour of 8:30pm.
The tour finished off with a final morning drive before the long 5 hour drive back to Johannesburg.
I'm having trouble uploading photos, as I'm writing from a remote lodge in Zambia. Hopefully I'll be able to post some of the incredible animal shots soon!!
KITING!!
June 8-14
It has been an incredible week in Blougberg (Table View). My original itinerary had me headed to Durban on Wednesday, but the wind predictions were better for Blouberg than Durban... and I was getting pretty comfortable waking up with the sea only a block away, so I stuck around until today (Saturday).
Really starting to feel like I'm on vacation- more delicious meals out (more sushi, tried some Indian), a few days of good wind for kiting, and another chance to get out on a surf board.
Phil and Andries have been great kiting instructors and I owe a big thanks to them for what I've learned! Kudos to Phil for some pretty decent action shots... thanks!
I can't see these pictures when once they're uploaded, so I don't know which ones are showing... but I was using a green kite.
I'm on the left
Can't see the kite in this one... but you get the idea
I managed to get up Table Mountain on a clear, windless day. I got some great pics, but I'll upload those next time I'm online. It was a fantastic climb that gave spectacular views of the city, not to mention a quality workout.
My last day in Cape Town started with a tasty brunch with Phil and Andries, watching surfers with Table Mountain in the background. We meandered down the beach looking for washed up shark teeth. I didn't know what I was looking for, so didn't have any luck. We crossed paths with a shark-tooth finding pro who had a whole handful.
I can't say I'm looking forward to the desk life waiting for me in the fall. Another season or two working on my kiting, and then jump ship from office work and travel the world teaching kitesurfing. Phil and Andries have been rather convincing of the lifestyle...
I had a good flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg, despite my fears of the city. I'm staying at "The Ritz Backpackers of Johannesburg." It's definitely not the ritz, but its safe and clean and I've met more fun people.
Heading on a 3-day Kruger safari tomorrow. Starting my malaria pills and camping phase of the trip.... lions, tigers, elephants oh my!
It has been an incredible week in Blougberg (Table View). My original itinerary had me headed to Durban on Wednesday, but the wind predictions were better for Blouberg than Durban... and I was getting pretty comfortable waking up with the sea only a block away, so I stuck around until today (Saturday).
Really starting to feel like I'm on vacation- more delicious meals out (more sushi, tried some Indian), a few days of good wind for kiting, and another chance to get out on a surf board.
Phil and Andries have been great kiting instructors and I owe a big thanks to them for what I've learned! Kudos to Phil for some pretty decent action shots... thanks!
I can't see these pictures when once they're uploaded, so I don't know which ones are showing... but I was using a green kite.
I'm on the left
Can't see the kite in this one... but you get the idea
I managed to get up Table Mountain on a clear, windless day. I got some great pics, but I'll upload those next time I'm online. It was a fantastic climb that gave spectacular views of the city, not to mention a quality workout.
My last day in Cape Town started with a tasty brunch with Phil and Andries, watching surfers with Table Mountain in the background. We meandered down the beach looking for washed up shark teeth. I didn't know what I was looking for, so didn't have any luck. We crossed paths with a shark-tooth finding pro who had a whole handful.
I can't say I'm looking forward to the desk life waiting for me in the fall. Another season or two working on my kiting, and then jump ship from office work and travel the world teaching kitesurfing. Phil and Andries have been rather convincing of the lifestyle...
I had a good flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg, despite my fears of the city. I'm staying at "The Ritz Backpackers of Johannesburg." It's definitely not the ritz, but its safe and clean and I've met more fun people.
Heading on a 3-day Kruger safari tomorrow. Starting my malaria pills and camping phase of the trip.... lions, tigers, elephants oh my!
Cape Town, Stellenbosch
Driving to Stellenbosch!
So my rental care adventure was just that... an adventure. A few laps around the neighbourhood and I became somewhat accustomed to the changes, of which their were many. My only real mistake was driving slow in the fast lane (on the right), and one or two angry drivers later, I learned my lesson.
The traffic girl (couldn't have been more than 14) directing traffic at an accident
Slums lined the highway between Cape Town and Stellenbosch
Stellenbosch exit. Note the pouring rain.
On my way to Jonkershoek Nature Reserve, outside Stellenbosch.
Made it to Stellenbosch and ventured out into the mountains nearby. It was pouring rain, so I didn't get the views, but it was incredibly peaceful all the same. The gatekeeper to the conservation area thought I was crazy to be out hiking in that weather. While I was driving out to the trails, with parts flooded with1.5-2feet of water, I began to think he was right.
Inside Jonkershoek Reserve
The waterfalls I had planned to hike to... until I discovered flooded trails.
I know how to find the good camera-balancing rocks now.
Sort of looks like a riverbed... and with the non-stop rain I was worried that it would soon become one.
Wine Tour!!!
Simonsprig, our first stop on the wineries tour. It's also the largest privately owned estate in the area. To be an estate, a winery has to grow, produce, and bottle the wine entirely on-site.
Our guide has a degree in Wine. Four years of schooling, all about wine.
The cork tree, which isn't actually going extinct, as I'd heard back home.
Vats of wine. For reds, the skins are left in while the wine ferments, for colour, and for tannins. Tannins are responsible for the rougher taste at the end of a red sampling- many nuts have similar tannins.
Oak barrels of red
This bottle of champagne was opened with a sword. 11am toast.
My first sip of a tasty white
Jonkershoek Nature Reserve mountains
Outside Simonsprig
The view of Table Mountain from Simonsprig in Stellenbosch (about 50km away)
I forget the name of this winery, but they make "Goats do Roam," a play on words of some famous French wine. They are real goats chilling in the tower.
This winery, in Paarl, also makes a tasty "Bored Doe." The French winery tried to sue them... but the case was dismissed.
Cheese tasting. Soooo good. Fresh goat's cheese, blue cheese and more.
More tasting... We had about 6 samples at each of the four wineries we visited. It amounted to a solid 1.5-2 bottles by the end of the day.
I need a chandelier like this. It's like a wine halo.
Our third visit was to a winery in Franschoek. Very Hollywood.
I didn't like this place's wine, but loved their views.
More delicious champagne
Bridget, from Miami, and I.
The views from our final stop. This winery was by far the fanciest and most modern. The owner is a banker and just makes wine as a hobby. You could see Table Mountain, False Bay (visible in my Cape Point pictures), the vineyards and olive gardens. Spectacular.
Our group, minus one Canadian, Phil.
CAPE TOWN WATEFRONT
This bomb bag was in the waterfront mall. Apparently bombs are an issue in shopping centers.
Vancouver made the cut for this sign post.
Waterfront street performers. It was just as entertaining to watch all of the school kids, in their uniforms, who had just been let out of class, dance around and mock them.
Waterfront fishing boats
Cleaning the day's catch
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