Where in the world are Rich and Carissa?

Finally some pictures from Nepal

2010-05-17T05:24:00.002+01:00

As we explained in our last post, we decided in Cambodia and Laos that the heat was too much. We needed a respite and dreamed of the Himalayas with its beautiful peaks. The journey to Nepal's peaks, though, passes through Kathmandu. We have heard some describe this city as "India-lite," meaning it is hectic, crowded and polluted similar to its neighbor to the south. Mind you, this does not mean we didn't enjoy Kathmandu--it was vibrant. After our experiences elsewhere, the turmoil in the streets seemed quite normal. Here are some street scenes:

These buildings make up one side of the Yatkha Bahal, a large courtyard just south of the touristy Thamel area of Kathmandu. The little 4-storey guy wedged between his bigger neighbors was one of our favorite sites in Kathmandu.

The area of Kathmandu known as Asan Tole is a thriving market most days. Appropriately, the Annapurna Temple, in the background of this photo, is dedicated to the goddess of abundance. We were told the faithful make offerings here by circling the temple, touching a coin to their head before throwing it into the temple, and then ringing a bell.

Feeding the pigeons in the courtyard surrounding Seto Machhendranath temple can be good for one's karma. This temple is important to both Hindus and Buddhists.

In the square of the Kathesimbhu Stupa, we noticed this little girl playing on a small stupa.

In front of a temple in the Indra Chowk area of Kathmandu, this intersection is a mix of pedestrians, motorbikes, bicycles, rickshaws and Suzuki hatchback taxis...oh, and a pile of rubbish.

Like we said, Kathmandu is vibrant. The presence of so many religious temples, shrines, and statues mixed in with every day life continued to delight us here in Kathmandu. Similar to Southeast Asia, it was very common to come across a 600-year old Buddha ensconced into a street-side wall. To purposefully seek out a Buddhist religious site, we headed 11-km northeast of the city's center to Boudhanath. This massive stupa dominates the skyline and dwarfs the 5-storey buildings that surround it.

Boudhanath

At dawn and dusk, Boudhanath's faithful worship by walking clockwise around the stupa while reeciting their prayers and/or spinning the prayer wheels.

Our 12-day trek was to begin in the town of Lukla, which is northeast of Kathmandu in the Everest region. It is at 2,860 meters (9,380 ft.) and there are two ways of getting there: a 6-day hike from Jiri or a 1/2 hour plane ride. We chose the plane, so our trip begin by slamming into the uphill runway. The 12% grade helps slow the plane before the wall which is only 1700 feet away. Mind you, this landing is nothing in comparison to the take-off down the 12% grade hill.

Don't worry. That plane taking off (i.e. headed downhill) will lift off before it runs out of runway and the hill drops off 2,000 ft.

Once in Lukla, all we had to do was walk. It is definitely possible to go trekking without any assistance, but we decided that since our trip was a last minute decision we didn't want to have to deal with the logistics. We organized our trek with Nepal Mountain Trekking, and trekked with a wonderful guide, Phurba Sherpa, and a porter, Lok. If anyone is looking for a trekking company, we'd highly recommend Nepal Mountain Trekking. They are locally owned, environmentally conscious, concerned about their staff, and donate a portion of their profits back to educational programs in eastern Nepal.

Day 1: Most people of the Everest region are ethnically Sherpa. Traditionally their homes were smaller than this one in this picture, but nowadays many families have built a teahouse, or lodge, to rent rooms to tourists as they trek through.

Day 1: Dzobjok (a yak-cow hybrid) are a common "beast of burden" in the region.

Day 1: People are the most common "beast of burden," though.

Day 1: The field above, wheat, below was probably recently harvested potatoes.

Day 2: Carissa and some mountains--showing that we are finally gaining some altitude.

Day 2: The town of Namche Bazaar, at 3,440 meters (11,286 ft), is a place where many trekkers stay over two nights to acclimatize and the site of the region's major weekly market. On Fridays and Saturdays, produce and anything else you can imagine is carried here to be sold.

Day 3: First view of Mt. Everest (8,848 meters (29,029 ft)). It;s the "little" guy peaking over the ridge of Nuptse (7,861 meters (25,790 ft)). Clouds are extending to the right from it over to Lhotse (8,516 meters (27,940 ft). Also of note, Ama Dablam (6,812 meters (22,349 ft)) is to our right, which is the third most climbed peak in Nepal.

Day 3: The three kids at our teahouse watching a yak convoy roll through Khumjung (3,780 m (12,401 ft)), a town of about 2,000 people.

Day 3: The view at dusk from our bedroom window in Khumjung.

Day 4: Stupa in the town of Mong-La (3,960 m (12,992 ft)).

Day 5: Mortimer near the town of Luza (4,410 m (14,304 ft)) with Cho Oyu (8,201 m (26,906 ft)), the sixth tallest mountain in the world, in the background.

Day 6: Carissa enjoying the high altitude sunshine at about 4,450 m (14,599 ft).

Day 6: The village of Gokyo (4800 m (15,750 ft)) with Cho Oyu in the background.

Day 6: Rich and our fabulous accommodations on the shores of Lake Gokyo. The cyber cafe was fully operational, but, sadly, the pool was closed for the season.

Day 7: The beautifully frosted world at dawn--2 inches of snow that night with accompanying thunder and lightning.

Day 7: Dzobjok love the snow!

Day 7: Descending down the valley from Gokyo, the snow is melting fast.

Day 7: The Dudh Koshi River.

Day 7: Arriving at the village of Thare (4,300 m (14,107 ft). Our teahouse, this night, was above a yak barn. Domestic yaks are kept primarily as "beasts of burden" and for their milk, fiber, and meat. Dried yak dung is an important fuel throughout this region. It was burned in the stoves of most of the teahouses we stayed in for heat.

Day 8: Another two inches of snow over the night with thunder and lightning again.

Day 8: The village of Thore (4,390 m (14,402 ft)).

Day 8: Carissa really became enamored with yak calves during the trip. Rich had to convince her they would not make good house pets.

Day 8: Yaks in all their glory in the village of Thore.

After we visited Gokyo and climbed to a height of 5,075 m (16,650 ft), we began our descent back towards Lukla on Day 7. We enjoyed these days very much because of the scenery, the more remote route we took, and because our legs were actually tired at the end of these days. You see, as we ascended towards Gokyo it is not advised to gain more than about 300 m (~1,000 ft) per day or Altitude Sickness would be more likely. This sort of gain only translated to about 3-4 hours of hiking for us per day, so we had long afternoons exploring small villages, reading and playing cards. We are glad Phurba, our guide, kept us to this schedule because many people hike too far and hence ascend too quickly in this region. We saw quite a few people with Altitude Sickness symptoms, and 2-3 helicopters evac'ing people from the area per day.

The hike back down through Phortse, Pangboche, Tengboche, and Namche Bazaar to Lukla was a delightful resurgence of colors and smells in the world. As we descended into the rhodedendron forests, they were beginning to bloom into beautiful red, pink and white floral displays.

Once reaching Lukla, we found that the airport had been closed for two days as it was socked in with bad weather. Many frustrated tourists found themselves on waiting lists that extended days and days, so alternate plans were made by many of them to charter helicopters back to Kathmandu. We were lucky and and the next morning the weather was clear and beautiful. Our flight was not canceled, so we did not need to worry about contingency plans.

In Kathmandu, we found that the calm of the mountains was a thing of the past. The turmoil of Kathmandu's streets, that previously seemed normal to us, was now quite crazy. To add to the regular street congestion, no European tourists were able to return home as the volcano in Iceland was spewing ash across the Northern hemisphere, so the touristy Thamel area seemed to be full of even more pedestrians. We were glad we had only one day before our flights to Delhi, India, then on to Bangkok, Thailand, and then on to Melbourne, Australia to visit Rich's aunt, cousin, and her family.

Trekking in Nepal

2010-04-20T15:26:00.000+01:00

When we started planning the Simlieb World Tour, Nepal was near the top of the list of countries we wanted to visit. We love the mountains, and thought trekking would be a great adventure. However, as our planning proceeded we decided that carrying around down jackets, massive hiking boots, and other cold-weather gear would be a pain (and totally useless in all other countries that we were planning to visit). So, Nepal was cut.

As we found ourselves sweltering through our travels in Laos and Cambodia (and trying desperately to remember what 'cold' feels like), we began throwing around the idea of changing course and going to Nepal. Then we met another couple who were in the first month of a round-the-world trip who heading to the Himalayas for a trek at the end of March. As we chatted with them about our plans our jealousy grew, and we decided to make a dramatic change in plans. Vietnam, Malaysia, and Indonesia would have to wait for another trip - we were heading to the mountains!

We've just finished a 12-day trek to Gokyo Peak and Lakes in the Everest region of the Himalayas. It was amazing, and we were happy to be a less-well-traveled route than the uber-popular Everest Base Camp trek - the Base Camp route is very clogged at this time of year with yaks, dzubjoks, porters, and support crew for the elite mountaineers living at Base Camp in preparation for summit attempts next month. We were a bit worried that our lack of an exercise routine would hinder us, but were pleasantly surprised that our legs and lungs held out for our 11 walking days.

Flying from Kathmandu to Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, Nepal (2800m) was a somewhat terrifying experience. Our tiny 14-passenger plane bobbed about as we barely cleared ridge-lines on the approach, and then suddenly we were slamming into the uphill runway. Fortunately our plane came to a stop before smashing into the barrier wall/mountainside at the end of the runway.

Trekking days began early with a hearty breakfast, then we, our guide (Phurba Sherpa), and porter (Lok) were off. Most days the distances weren't huge because we had to gain altitude slowly (so as to avoid being among the many, many people we saw with altitude sickness symptoms and being evacuated by helicopter). We stayed in teahouses along the way that ranged in size from extra rooms in family houses to large multi-room almost motel-like places. The rooms were universally cold, but fortunately we'd been able to rent down coats and sleeping bags in Kathmandu, and a box of insulating layers (and boots) had arrived from Carissa's mom just in time for the trek.

We must have good karma because we had wonderful weather for the trip - bright, sunny days with only a bit of clouds or haze in the afternoon. Two evenings we had fierce thunderstorms and awoke to 1-2 inches of snow outside (too high to rain), which only made the mountains look more majestic. Each day we had different views - from lower-land farms to rocky glacial lakes (well above treeline) to roaring turquoise rivers and glaciated mountains including a few days walking directly towards massive Cho Oyu (8201m or 26,906ft), the 6th tallest mountain in the world. The highest elevation we reached was approximately 5075m (or 16,650ft) near the summit of Gokyo Ri (peak) for sunrise views of Mt Everest, Lohtse, and Nuptse.

Unlike hiking in the uninhabited mountains of the US, while trekking in the Himalayas we passed through (and stayed at) numerous villages at very high elevations. Most of these towns are inhabited by Sherpa people who are said to have migrated here from Tibet in the 16th century. There are numerous beautifully ornate Tibetan Buddhist monasteries throughout the hillsides (ranging in age from 20-600 years old), and prayer flags and/or a stupa are nearly always in sight.

Our flight to Melbourne is boarding... we'll post some pictures from Australia. Many flash-back posts about Rwandan mountain gorillas and Southeast Asia are in the works, too.

Post Bus from Hell

2010-04-03T14:55:00.002+02:00

FLASH-BACK POST: post written January 23, 2010
Over dinner on the evening of January 18, we were remarking to a Ugandan friend, Benard Ssebide (who works for Mountain Gorilla Veterinary Project), that we’d been incredibly lucky while traveling through Africa as we hadn’t had any real difficulties with transport between places. Sure, we had a bus in Zambia that made everyone scream when the brakes locked up, we’d been crammed into a mini-bus with 22 other people (that should seat 13) for 6 hours between Mandimba and Cuamba, Mozambique, and we‘d been delayed a few hours between Arusha, Tanzania and Nairobi, Kenya with a leaking radiator, but no REAL problems. The next day, things changed.

We woke early on January 19 and walked to the main Post office in downtown Kampala, Uganda for our bus that day. To make ends meet the Uganda Post Service delivers people with the mail. There are plenty of private companies, but we picked the Post bus because we were told it was the safest. We imagined we’d be sitting on bags of letters as we sped through the countryside on our 8-hour ride.

We arrived at 7am sharp as instructed and waited patiently with many other passengers on the side of the road until our bus rolled up at 8 o‘clock. Despite our hour-long wait, somehow all the other passengers beat us onto the bus, so we were left with the seats over the rear axle with a broken armrest and window that wouldn’t open. The woman in the seats in front of us soon decided to switch her seat, so we upgraded to a window that could open and a functional armrest. Yeah for fresh air!

When the bus lurched a few times pulling away from the post office, we remarked, “That’s not a good sign.” We didn’t know how right we’d be.

Four hours later, we awoke to our heads smashing against the bus ceiling. Apparently, the wheels on the bus really do go round and round, and the people on the bus really do go up and down. As we were right over the rear axle, when the driver hit the Mount Kilimanjaro of bumps in the road, we went flying. This is an unpleasant way to wake up. Despite shouts of protest from the back, the driver continued on at full throttle.

Within the hour, we found ourselves broken down on the side of the road. We joined the other passengers in standing outside in the mid-day sun. For nearly two hours, we stood there while a mechanic came and went twice on the back of a motorcycle taxi while apparently repairing the radiator. We were close to the town of Mbarara and many people abandoned the bus if they were at all near their destination. We were unfortunately still about 3-hours from our destination.

Broken down Post Bus near Mbarara, Uganda

Once the radiator was patched and re-filled with water we were herded back onto the bus. We were excited that we were back underway and remarked, “that wasn‘t so bad.”. It was at this point that a fellow passenger, a Slovenian man named Sammo, remarked that his friend took the Post Bus a few weeks before and broke down for 8 hours - we were feeling lucky. Ten minutes later when we stopped to add more water to the radiator, we regretted our optimism. Little was every shared with us passengers about what was going on, so when we pulled into a garage in Mbarara thirty minutes later our hopes crashed. We were there to have the radiator replaced.

A similar delay in the US would have everyone up in arms about the inconvenience, requesting updates, and demanding refunds, ticket vouchers, or at least a new bus on which to finish the trip. But this is Uganda, so that is not the way things went down. We were never officially told anything by the driver or any mechanics. Instead, whispers about our progress spread like gossip back through the passengers. We and all other passengers who had no other means of transport patiently waited in the bus while it was worked on for three and a half hours. Some people got off the bus, but never went far as they had no idea when we might suddenly leave. The adorable three-year old girl sitting across the aisle in front of us sang songs that made us smile as she lounged in her mother’s lap.

Rumors of an imminent departure circulated long before we actually left the bus garage, but eventually the repairs were finished and we backed out into traffic. It was rush hour and dusk. The ride was uneventful for the next two hours when we pulled over to the side of the road in a small, dimly lit village. From our near-the-back seat it seemed to be just another stop to drop another passenger off…that is until pandemonium broke out. Snapped fully awake by a whoosh, we looked to the front of the bus to see the driver standing over the open engine compartment in a cloud of smoke glowing orange and yellow. Fire! we thought and we scrambled for the windows on the right-side of the bus. As we prepared to squeeze out the small window openings (there was no emergency exit), the crowds outside assured us to stay put. We aren’t sure why we thought they had insight into our safety on the burning bus, but it gave us pause enough to look towards the front of the bus a second time. It wasn’t fire. Apparently, the driver was pouring water into the hot radiator and the steam was illuminated by his flashlight. Thanks, buddy.

With relief, we sat down again and were subjected to more confusion. Bits of information flew around the bus: “two people were out on the pavement on the left side of the bus bleeding,” “they were both passengers on our bus,” “there was a lot of blood on the ground,” “head wounds,” “they were hit by a car,” “they rushed out the front door during the fire,” “No, they landed on their heads when climbing out a window.”

Whatever was the real cause of their injuries was never explained to us. The atmosphere was very grave and we waited. We were told we needed to wait until the bus cooled down to continue. While most other passengers remained patient, we and Sammo began to look into other ways to reach our destination (Kabale) which was said to be only 20 miles further. Eventually we were convinced by other passengers that any minute we would continue. After an hour passed, the engine was started. One of the victims of the accident remained in the village - she might have lived there, we don’t know. The other victim was brought onto the bus and we continued. At one point we thought chest compressions were being done, but later his wounds seemed superficial. Nothing made any sense. Supposedly there was a hospital in Kabale, but if we were taking him there, the driver’s pace had no urgency at this point. One hour later we arrived at our destination. Only 7 hours late. When we arrived at the Kabale post office, the driver and ticket guy wished us a good night, as if the entire experience was just another unremarkable day. Fortunately for us, this trip was unlike any other day we’ve spent on a bus.

The Pearl of Africa

2010-04-01T18:29:00.001+02:00

FLASH-BACK POST: post written on January 16, 2010
We entered Uganda with a bang - literally - as Rich’s head stuck the immigration sign like a mallet ringing a gong. Being freakishly tall, Rich’s head has been the victim of many a low-hanging item in the past few months. This gong-ringing was particularly hilarious because it prompted everyone around to say, in near chorus, “oh, mzungu, sorry, sorry, pole, pole mzungu’ (roughly translated, 'sorry white guy').

Our bus ride earlier through western Kenya had been beautiful with rolling hills covered with tea-plantations. As far as the landscape went, there was little to tell us we had left Kenya and entered Uganda. Soon enough, though, our bus reached the city of Jinja on the shores of Lake Victoria. Jinja is considered to be the source of the Nile River and is unequivocally one of Uganda’s jewels. Large estates with massive homes adorned the outskirts of town and along the river, while the center of town was packed with more modest dwellings and shops. Our backpackers hostel occupied one of these old mansions and the 1-mile walk into the center of town was relaxing with tree lined boulevards.

A view of the main drag in Jinja, Uganda.

A bike with a very heavy load and some goats in a neighborhood of Jinja, Uganda.

Most travelers visit Jinja for white rafting, but we had stopped here as a fellow traveler mentioned it as a mellow town with friendly people to spend a few days in. He was right. We enjoyed biking around the town, having a lunch of frightening orange and blue biryani on the shores of the Nile, and watching flocks of Maribu storks dine a la carte from the dumpsters in the center of town. Carissa was particularly pleased with the “African tea” she was able to find in Jinja - tea steeped in hot milk and spiced deliciously with cinnamon, clove, and cardamom.

Maribu storks dining al fresco

Carissa and Rich on the banks of the Nile River, Jinja, Uganda

A few days in Jinja and we were ready to face Kampala, Uganda’s capital city. We expected it to be bustling and hectic, and it was. We managed to find a hotel (the magnificent Aponye Hotel) right in the middle of the downtown area in the wholesalers district. During the day the street in front of our hotel was blocked to regular traffic by large trucks being filled any type of retail good you can imagine. The sidewalks were jammed with young men carrying foam mattresses, bundles of rebar, boxes upon boxes of shoes, etc. There was a mosque across the street that’s loudspeaker prayers and devotees spilled out into the sidewalks and street several times per day, adding to the sensory overload. Motorcycles and pedestrians everywhere, making it impossible to walk side-by-side down the street; walking felt more like constantly fighting your way upstream.

Street view out of our room at the Aponye Hotel, Kampala, Uganda.

Kampala, Uganda

It was pure madness, so Rich was particularly surprised on our second day walking around these areas when he realized that the madness felt comfortable, safe, perhaps even normal. Amazingly, the streets only a few blocks uphill from this area were completely different - broad boulevards with nearly empty sidewalks and (relatively) orderly road traffic. A few days in Kampala and many miles walked and our opinion did not change - the city just had a good energy about it. Incidentally, Kampala was the first city where someone tried to pick Rich’s pocket. Unfortunately for the would-be thief, his bright yellow shirt and floppy sun-hat made him stand out in the crowd as he passed us a second time, and rich was able to slap his hand away as he tried to reach into his pocket.

With coffee shops, good Chinese food at Fang Fang, and excellent chapatti from the Obamamobile (see Obamania post), Kampala met many of our food cravings and we enjoyed our time there. We had dinner with another veterinary friend, Benard Ssebide, and Rich enjoyed watching the Africa Cup of Nations soccer tournament with other enthusiasts. After a few days here we looked forward to seeing southwestern Uganda, but are glad we’ll get to pass back through Kampala on our return to Nairobi (for our flight out of Africa) in a couple of weeks.

Nairobbery?

2010-04-01T18:08:00.000+02:00

FLASH-BACK POST: post written on January 12, 2010
Nairobi, Kenya is often listed along with Lagos, Nigeria and Johannesburg, South Africa as among the most dangerous cities in Africa. Car-jackings, armed robbery, and muggings are said to be common. With these reports, we were understandably a bit nervous about what we might encounter upon our arrival in Nairobi. Although we can’t argue with the statistics, we had no problems during our stay in Nairobi’s city center, and in fact found the area to be safe and enjoyable. That said, we’ve been conscientious to avoid walking around any cities with a lot of extra stuff with us, often avoiding carrying a shoulder bag. But here in this reportedly dangerous city we meandered through the streets while carrying a bag - and nothing bad happened! Yet another reminder that the news doesn’t always get the story right (would you visit New York City if the only information you had was what CNN reports goes on there?).

View of some of downtown Nairobi from our hotel room.

While in Nairobi, we spent a leisurely Saturday with a veterinarian-friend of Rich’s and his family. The Chege family (Stephen, Catherine, and their daughters Brittany and Patience) took us to the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) headquarters on the edge of Nairobi National Park to visit the Safari walk and animal orphanage. Stephen works for KWS mainly in the field, but was proud to show us the very impressive facilities at their headquarters where they care for orphaned and seized animals. It was a peaceful walk through some “bush” and since we were with the boss one of the zoo-keepers took us behind the scenes to get unnervingly close to a full-grown leopard. It’s growls gave us instant goose bumps and we were glad for the fence in between us.

Rich, Carissa, Catherine, Patience, Chege (Stephen), and Brittany

Leopard

Carissa's favorite sign on the Safari walk at Kenya Wildlife Service headquarters

What do veterinarians go to eat after a morning with the big cats then? Nyama choma, a Kenyan specialty of grilled mutton. The forelimb of a goat was brought to our table and carved up for out gastronomic pleasures. Gnawing the bones is considered some of the best meat, but Rich made sure to avoid the bit of fur that was still on the elbow of his piece.

Visiting the Cheges’ home was our final treat for our day with them. Situated only minutes from the main highway, the dirt road that we drove down to get their home by no means felt to us like we were still on the outskirts of Kenya’s capital city. Dodging ruts and rocks, their village had a much more rural feel with small make-shift buildings selling any and all goods lining the road. Turning left onto a hedge-lined lane, Brittany hopped out to open the gate to the parking area in front of their 4-unit apartment building. Pouring over photo albums in their living room, we were surprised to be introduced to another adult that lived with the Cheges. A roommate? No, she was live-in help. Apparently having a servant is not uncommon for the middle class in Kenya.

Although our experiences in Nairobbery had fallen far short of its reputation, we knew there was still plenty to be cautious about. Reading the newspapers we heard about hot spots around the city where car-jackings were common and unfortunately the police do not seem to do anything about it. After our enjoyable day we got a first hand glimpse at the fear that this kind of security situation must instill in many people living in Nairobi as Chege drove us the 15 km back into the city centre. As we were getting onto a closed highway from an on-ramp, the car in front of us was driving very slowly and Stephen became very nervous. He explained to us that getting boxed in by cars in front and behind you was a common precursor to a car-jacking. As we fully rounded the corner of the on-ramp and the car ahead of us sped off, we were relieved nothing dangerous had happened and we were happy to assume that maybe its erratic driving behavior was ‘only’ due to drunkenness (a major but generally overlooked danger on Nairobi‘s roads).

On Sunday, January 10th, we celebrated Rich’s 31st b-day by doing three special things: eating, eating, and eating. No birthday cake, but Rich was happy to get a birthday pizza and a magnificent dinner at Haandi Indian restaurant in the fancy mall in the West Lands suburb. After our brief visit in Nairobi, we headed off to explore Uganda.

Rich with his birthday pizza

Cooking in the sticks with, yes, sticks

2010-03-16T10:06:00.000+02:00

FLASH-BACK POST: January 5, 2010
[post written on Jan. 9, 2010]

After a few very-busy wildlife watching days in the Serengeti, we were ready for a little down time at our comfy and affordable Caanan Hotel in Arusha, Tanzania. While chatting with a friendly employee, we also found out that they run a tour company called Oreteti which prides itself on being a responsible travel company (fair wages to local employees and profits used to support community-development projects). We were intrigued by one of the day-long programs they offered - a Tanzanian cookery class. Now you should understand, we love to cook and for sometime had been feeling a certain longing for our kitchen back home, so we were already primed to be receptive to the idea of this class. Then while reading the description, it was mentioned that the secrets of Plantain stew and Chapati (some of the favorite foods we’d eaten to date) would be revealed to us, so we were sold and signed up for this adventure the following day. In talking to Heles, the tour company’s manager, we expected we’d just go to a kitchen somewhere in Arusha and prepare a feast, but it turned out to be so much more.

The day of our cooking class we went out into the parking area to find Heles, Joshua (the Canaan Hotel’s cook), and Samuel (taxi driver guy-extraordinaire) loading supplies and equipment into the trunk of Samuel’s Toyota Corolla. Apparently, we were off to Joshua and Samuel’s village for our day of culinary revelation!

We arrived at our kitchen in a village 40-minutes east of Arusha, on the slopes of Mt. Meru (little sister to infamous Kilimanjaro). Stepping out of the car we unsure of how we would proceed in this unfamiliar kitchen: there was no sink, no fridge, no stove. Just the courtyard of a church.

Making delicious grub with Joshua

After laying down banana leaves for a table, we got to work. Joshua had one of his fellow villagers bring us a supply of kerosene in a re-used, glass Coca-Cola bottle for the stove and Joshua himself ran off with a 5-gallon bucket to fetch water from the local stream. Under his tutelage, we began by making a millet porridge to sustain us through our afternoon of cooking. As Carissa stirred away at her cauldron muttering “boil, boil, toil…,” Rich was set up with a cutting board and some beef in the entranceway to the church. The cuts selected were more adventurous than what we would normally be putting into a stew and Rich learned that slicing up rumen and intestines is more difficult than you’d expect. He was relieved that there wasn’t any lung, though.

The beef, onions and tomato Rich chopped formed the base of a stew. Broad banana leaves laid on the ground formed the kitchen counter, and using one kerosene stove (sometimes in a cardboard box) and village-made charcoal under 3 hearthstones, we made some good grub. As a cuisine, this meal was simple, with salt and oil as the main flavor enhancers, but definitely delicious. Here’s what we made:

2 types of beef stew: one with lots of vegetables, another with plantains
chapatti to accompany the stews (Carissa’s favorite)
wheat porridge (wheat, water, milk, butter)
coconut rice (Carissa shredded the coconut using a fancy coconut shredder, then mixed with water to make coconut milk. The rice was cooked over the charcoal using a plastic bag and banana tree bark as a lid to keep moisture in)
Sautéed greens of some sort
fresh fruit (including large pieces of avocado served like melon)

Our church-courtyard kitchen

Rich, Carissa and Joshua enjoying an appetizer of porridge

Carissa shreddin' coconut (above) and the shredder (below)

Heles and Carissa cooking chapati

All in all it was a really fun day filled with lots of laughter and many really interesting conversations where we learned a lot about one another‘s background, family, and cultural practices. There were plenty of jokes too and Carissa’s efforts to form round chapatti became a running joke for Joshua and Heles for the rest of the afternoon (apparently Carissa‘s chapatti look more like Mt Meru than a circle). Most of the day we had an audience of village children staring at us through large holes in the churchyard wall where our kitchen and dining area was set up. We ended up preparing more food than the 4 of us could eat, but were only able to convince one brave child to help us eat the leftovers (at least until we left to walk around the village; when we returned there was nothing left!).

Rich, Carissa, and Joshua enjoying the fruits of our labors

Any good meal should be followed by a little exercise to settle the tummy, so we took a walkabout through the village. The verdant landscape was radiant in the evening light with Mt Meru and Mt Kilimanjaro lurking in the distance. We passed by many sights: the river where village women were collecting water, large fields of maize, and small-scale farmers doing their work and watching us walk by, and several other very rustic churches in this community.

A glorious New Year’s in the Serengeti

2010-03-16T07:00:00.001+02:00

FLASH-BACK POST: December 31, 2009 - January 3, 2010
[post written on Jan. 4, 2010]

We know many of our blog readers may find the names of the places we’ve been to be a bit of alphabet soup requiring the help of GoogleMaps to locate. But our guess is that nearly all of you have heard of Serengeti National Park in northwestern Tanzania. Odds are that if you’ve ever seen any nature show about Africa - especially any show about lions or migrating wildebeest - it was filmed in the savannahs of the Serengeti.

In an effort to ensure our time in Tanzania really was a holiday from our regular crammed-into-a-mini-bus style, we booked a ‘budget’ 4-day/3-night camping safari to the Serengeti from Dec 31, 2009 to Jan 3 2010.

We arrived at the starting point for our safari adventure, Arusha, Tanzania, after a harrowing ferry ride from Zanzibar to Dar Es Salaam - the trip was twice as long as expected and featured big swells, ever-increasing diesel fuel odors, and an incorrectly-English-subtitled version of the film Blood Diamond (which is an English-language film) - and a 12-hour bus ride from Dar Es Salaam to Arusha.

Mt Kilimanjaro from the road to Arusha

As for the Serengeti…breathtaking. It was a long day’s drive from Arusha to it, but the trip was made shorter by light banter from our driver/guide, Daudi. Zanzibari by birth, Daudi was in northern Tanzania for the same reason as hundreds of other Tanzanians--to tap into the tourism market. We were surprised to learn there are 83 safari companies based out of Arusha and that the largest one owning 400-some Landrovers (the scourge of the Serengeti)! Daudi had nearly completed a university education focused on tourism and was knowledgeable about the animals and natural world around us. However, he could have used a few more lessons in professionalism as he was only willing to minimally suppress his strong dislike for our cook, Marceli (yes, even the most ‘budget‘ of camping safaris comes with a driver/guide and cook for the group). Outright conflict never broke out, but Daudi did declare Marceli to be “useless” on several occasions and said repeatedly that “he just never shuts up.”

We started out on the safari by heading into the foothills of the Ngorongoro Highlands towards the Ngorongoro Crater. The view was otherworldly, with volcanoes on the horizon and beautiful with lush vegetation. We reached the rim at 3,000-some meters where temperatures were cooler and fog draped over the ridgelines. This area is now the home for many Masai people (having been relocated during the Serengeti’s establishment), and we commonly saw men, women and children in red plaid dress dotting the countryside, their cattle blocking the road.

The amazingly beautiful Ngorongoro Crater

Masai boys herding cattle in the road

As we dropped over 2,000 meters as we descended down towards the Serengeti Plains the weather warmed up, the landscape became grassland, and we began to see thousands of wildebeest and hundreds of zebra and Thompson’s gazelle everywhere. These three animals apparently travel together in an ever-moving migration, following the moisture and available grasses. Rich imagines this must have been the way North American Bison looked in South Dakota before the railroad days.

As we planned our trip to be a budget camping safari, we rolled up into the public campground to find 27 tents already up. This campsite was unlike a National Park in the US. Individual sites do not grant each party a sense of privacy here. Instead, it was a smallish grassy area where everyone was helter-skelter organized with narrow alleys between tents and a strong sense of “community.” As it was New Year’s Eve, the air was filled with revelry which, we hoped would keep the wild animals at bay since there are no fences encircling the campground and we had been told elephants are great at sniffing out snacks kept in tents (which we of course had!). Fortunately our sleep was undisturbed - we had a 5am wakeup call for our true New Years celebration--a sunrise hot air balloon ride!

Sunset in our campsite on New Year's Eve 2009

Just before dawn we were whisked away by a jeep into the middle of the Serengeti passing hartebeest and a lioness with cubs along the way. We arrived as the first light was falling onto the vast plains, and could barely make out three massive deflated balloons laying on the frosty (coconut) grass. We were among the first of our balloon‘s 16 passengers to arrive, so we stood about watching our breath and shivering until everyone arrived and the inflating began. The roar of the burner was tremendous and the balloon’s fabric glowed with each burst of the flame in the dawn’s twilight. Once flying, that same burner gave the hair on or heads a feeling of imminent combustion. The views of the Serengeti were beautiful. The wind that day didn’t happen to take us by much wildlife, but the landscape at dawn was peaceful. Once we landed, we enjoyed a champagne toast (apparently a hot-air balloon ride tradition) and were whisked away to another remote location in the middle of the bush where linen-covered fully set tables awaited our arrival for a full breakfast and more champagne.

Rich and our semi-inflated hot air balloon on Jan 1, 2010 (yes, the grass is frosty)

The rest of our New Year’s was average after this start. You know: watched some elephant herds with adorable, awkward youngsters who kept falling in the mud puddles along the road; sat near some lions who were stalking far-away gazelle they had no real hope of catching; discovered a massive herd of zebras in the foothills; tracked a leopard as it picked a better tree in which to sleep.

Lioness and 3 sleepy cubs

Wildebeest on the Serengeti plains

Elephants

Lazy leopard in a tree

Two lions lounging in a tree

A flock of ostrich in the road

Hartebeest

Baboons (including an adorable baby) in a tree

Hippo-pile in the river

Gigantic herd of zebras

Maribou stork

Just when we thought the day could not get any better, our after-dinner tea was interrupted by a group of four elephants who came eating their way through the public campsite. At one point, there was legitimate concern that the matriarch was going to trample our tent as she was busy stripping a tree of its leaves no more than ten feet behind it. We didn’t know it at the time, but this sort of elephant invasion became a theme as our breakfast on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater (on our final morning of safari) also concluded with a huge bull elephant drinking out of the camp’s water tank. We were told he was a frequent visitor to this easy drinking hole.

Bull elephant posing with our safari jeep on his way to the water tank (above) and up close (below)

Ngorongoro Crater

Mastodon-sized elephants in the Ngorongoro Crater

Zebra in the Ngorongoro Crater

African buffalo

Very full lion

Cheetah on the prowl (and a massive flock of pink flamingos in the lake in the background)

Once we safely returned to Arusha, we went back to the Caanan Hotel, which is a place we had picked primarily for price and easy pre-safari pick-up, but turned out to be a wonderful, locally-owned business. Off the beaten track, but clean, safe, and staffed by very friendly people, we would highly recommend this hotel if you find yourself in Arusha. Also, it is partnered with the Oreteti tour company, which prides itself on providing community-based ecotourism (that is, they only employ local people who actually know the areas you may visit, they pay these people a fair wage, and they invest a portion of their profits to local educational efforts in the communities that are visited during a tour). Unfortunately, we found through our own safari with a different company that these are not priorities for the majority of the tourism industry (especially the fair wage part, which leads to not-so subtle hints about tipping being dropped from the get-go). A day-trip with Oreteti (see our next blog post) made us wish that we had gone with them for our Serengeti safari.

Note: we have sooooo many more pictures of the Serengeti to share, we are working on getting the best ones uploading and will share the link once they’re ready for viewing online.

Magnificent Malawi and into Mozambique

2010-03-12T13:39:00.000+02:00

FLASH-BACK POST: December 1 - 10th, 2009
[post written on December 17, 2009]

We arrived in Lilongwe, the capital city of Malawi, on 1 December. Lilongwe is a sprawling large city broken up into disparate neighborhoods, retail, and residential areas by clusters of forests, poor neighborhoods (shantytowns, for lack of a more appropriate term), and a large market. We were warned that some parts of the main road through the city (from ‘Old Town” to the “City Centre”) were dangerous to walk along at any time of day, and that at night should only go from place to place by taxi. These are the same warnings we received in Zambia. As in Zambia, we heeded these warnings (thinking why intentionally put ourselves into potentially dangerous situations?), but perhaps were a bit overprotective as we felt very safe the entire time (and that people in Lilongwe were more relaxed and less approached us less aggressively than in Zambia).

In Lilongwe, people bustle everywhere and the streets are filled with foot, bicycle and car traffic. The amount of car and minibus traffic on the roads was a surprise to us – we had been warned that there was a massive gasoline and diesel fuel crisis affecting the whole country, and to expect some difficulty getting transportation as a result. We didn’t have any troubles, but were told the bustling streets were much less busy than normal. The fuel shortage was obvious at every gas station in the city – dozens of people were lining up waiting for fuel for multiple days (those who were unable to offer extra money to wait only hours for fuel, that is). Minibus and taxi drivers were raising their fares to account for the inflated cost of ‘black market’ fuel being sold by industrious young men with gallon jugs on the streets. Fuel is the topic of conversation for everybody and the top story in the newspapers, with politicians offering (apparently empty) assurances that something is being done and the crisis will be solved in a matter of days. It was not resolved during our time in Malawi, and no one we talked to expects it to be before the end of January. (We are selfishly pleased the shortages did not hamper our travels.)

On the road from Lilongwe to Senga Bay, Malawi.

Despite the potential hiccup of how to keep commerce and transit system fueled, we easily found a mini-bus to Senga Bay, on Lake Malawi on 5 December. We were pleasantly surprised to find the mini-bus was filled reasonably (only 1 person per seat), so we did not feel like sardines in a can, and the roads were in great shape. As we headed East towards Lake Malawi, the landscape was rolling with lush vegetation and it seemed that every inch of farm-able land had some crop planted in it.

Along the highway, as well as nearly everywhere else we went in Malawi, most buildings were made of bricks. Though still quite small by (outrageous) American standards and with thatched roofs the homes we saw appeared much more substantial than many homes we had seen thus far in other countries. Communities we passed were making their own bricks, and the countryside was littered with piles of un-used bricks—grass sprouting from their tops. Agriculture was widespread with even the hillsides cultivated at least in part (we’re told this is in part because the Malawian government subsidizes fertilizer for such enterprise). Despite apparent signs of a strong economy, it is evident that Malawi still bears its impoverished legacy from the Banda dictatorship.

Lake Malawi (aka Lake Nyassa) is as long as Lake Michigan and is a fresh water destination for both domestic and international tourists visiting either Malawi and/or Mozambique (on the eastern shore of the lake). The lake is full of thousands of species of cichlid fishes which makes it a destination for SCUBA diving as well as general lounging (our activity of choice). The village around our hotel was completely oriented to the lake: laundry, ablutions, swimming and play all taking place in its waters or shores. We spent most of our days here relaxing in the peaceful shade of our guesthouse lawn, swimming in the lake, reading our books, and watching life on the lake. One of our favorite views was in the evening when fishermen headed out on their boats lit only by lanterns to earn their living - there was something magical to this scene.

Boats on beautiful Lake Malawi (Nyassa).

Sunset over Lake Malawi.

We heard of many more nooks and crannies of Lake Malawi that we wish we had time to explore and intend on coming back to visit. We could have easily spent a few months in Malawi alone exploring the mountains of the north, more of the beautiful lakeshore, as well as exploring the plateaus and mountains of the south. However, we wanted to make it to the coast of Mozambique in the next couple of weeks, so left Senga Bay on 7 December to head south towards Zomba where a friend of a friend lives.

Our morning began with a matola (back of a pick-up truck) ride as the first leg of our trip to Zomba. Public transit, as a rule, is crowded. The driver and money guy form the hub of the crew, but while waiting to get going a few touts are often employed to seek out passengers out and fill the “seats.” Matolas or mini-buses may fill up immediately or take an hour or two to fill and get going. There are two strategies one can take with public transit: (1) accept everyone is uncomfortable and share what space there is, or (2) get there early, stake out your territory and yield no ground. Usually, we try to employ the first strategy, but with this morning’s matola we went with the second and were glad of it. With space on the rail of the bed of the pick-up truck, we watched as nineteen more people scrambled into the bed. Three mothers had babies strapped to their backs. Three men were on the roof of the cab. Those standing in the center used other people as handholds to stay in the speeding vehicle. Amusingly, the money guy and driver switched jobs a 1km into the ride once we got going as the “driver” did not have a license, but did have a splinted wrist. Our journey ended was 1/2 km short of the bus station in Salima as there was reportedly a police road block up ahead, and (shockingly) we were overloaded. After this crowded start, our 2 mini-bus rides to Balaka and then Zomba seemed only reasonably packed (though slow due to stopping every few kilometers to drop people off/pick people up, and for one side-adventure to purchase fuel from the garage of a man in a village).

On our arrival in Zomba we attempted to get in touch with the friend of a friend we were coming to visit, but found out from a co-worker that she had been in a car accident and was in the hospital. We were super worried about her, but didn‘t know which hospital she was in or how to check on her or anything. [Editor’s note: The story of her adventures in medical care is another good one for another day (we eventually caught up with her in Nairobi, Kenya), but suffice to say that she is doing fine and healing well.]

Based on our friends’ description of and love for Zomba, we decided to stay for a few days anyhow and take in the beautiful scenery. On one day we took a wonderful hike from the center of town up to the plateau which offered us magnificent views of the town and surrounding hills - a really magnificent way to spend a day. We really just enjoyed being in Zomba, and in particular how friendly nearly all of the local people we met were and how comfortable we felt walking in and around this town. We must return here someday.

Sights along the road from Senga Bay to Zomba, Malawi.

A side street (above) and a more main street (below) in Zomba, Malawi.

Rich cutting our mango snack on the way down from hiking up the Zomba Plateau.

Some of the beautiful flowers we spotted along our plateau walk.

After a few days in Zomba, we began heading towards where we would cross into Mozambique. We spent a thunderstorm-filled night (with no power and LOTS of eerily howling dogs) in Mangochi, and decided not to stay for a second.

Our day getting from here to Cuamba, Mozambique was a long one: it started with a sweaty (yes, even at 7am) 15 minute walk to bus station through the market streets to find a minibus going our direction. When we arrived there, we were told the minibus would pick up 5km from where we were, so reluctantly hopped onto the back of bicycle taxis (which rode past where we walked) and across bridge to a half-full minibus heading our way. Once all seats were fully occupied (and then some), the bus made its way up the winding pass to the town on the Malawi side of the border. The immigration agent asked us how we liked George W. Bush as he stamped us out of Malawi, and was glad to hear we prefer President Obama. He also told us that despite what the bike taxi guys might tell us, the Mozambique border post was only 1km away - easily walk-able even on the dusty road in the scorching heat. The bicycle taxi drivers made a solid effort to get our fare, but we insisted we wanted to walk. Though some of the mob that swarmed us upon leaving the immigration building turned away in search of other passengers, several more persistent bicycle drivers flanked us for at least half the distance, essentially herding us with their bikes. At some point turning down their offers for a ride became an issue of principle (especially since it was more than hot enough to have wanted to just hop on the back of a bike). We eventually crossed some point-of-no-return and were left to trudge along to the sketchy Mozambican border post alone. To our dismay, there was little transport waiting on the Mozambique side to help us get the 10km to the town of Mandimba where we were told we could find a minibus onward. Fortunately a massive flat-bed delivery truck came by going our way and was willing to let ride in the cab to the ’bus station’ in Mandimba - a smattering of 3-sided vendors lining a two-lane wide area, and a gaggle of other people waiting under a tree for a minibus.

Eventually we all (all 24 of us plus 2 on the roof) piled into the one minibus - fortunately the big bags were all loaded on top of the vehicle (this was the first time we’d seen the roof used for bag transport on our travels). We made it about 15 minutes out of town before stopping on the side of the road, then returning to town: it turns out our driver didn’t have the correct permits to travel to Cuamba. We began to wonder whether we’d be able to find a place to sleep that night. Finally the ‘papers’ (bribes, we think) were sorted out and we got on the road again. We were pretty appalled at the difference in the infrastructure and living conditions (as viewed from the road) from just across the border in Malawi. Compared to the many signs advertising the work of the government and NGOs and obvious road and building construction efforts, the situation in Mozambique looked desolate. The road was bumpy and dusty and the temperatures sweltering. Six hours later, when we all piled out of the minibus on the outskirts of town as more ‘papers’ were sorted out before we were finally taken into town, Carissa emerged with salt stains on her damp pants.

One of the beautiful views of mountains and rural homes on the train from Cuamba to Mandimba, Mozambique.

Carissa on the train.

The train chugging along.

Once in Cuamba we were able to purchase tickets for the next days’ train to Nampula, Mozambique. Our mission to find a guesthouse or open bank was a little more tiresome, but eventually we found a place. The next morning we rolled out of our mosquito-netted beds and out the door by 4am as we were told to arrive early for the 5:30 train. We scrambled into our 6-person 2nd class cabin where we spent the next 12 hours ambling through the beautiful countryside. Our cabin-mates were friendly and hilarious Mozambicans (one a Columbian transplant) who took every opportunity to purchase discount-priced goods at villages we stopped at along the tracks. The Colombian-Mozambican woman purchased several grocery-bags stuffed with 2 types of mangoes, onions, 2 types of garlic, potatoes, and bananas (and rejected green beans at multiple locations for being too dry). We weren’t sure how she’d carry all these bags out upon arrival, but she managed to pass them through the train window to our other cabin-mates who were waiting outside; how she got them home from there we don’t know.

We spent only 2 nights in Nampula reorganizing ourselves before heading off to the beautiful Ilha de Mozambique (see post titled Ilha).

Can you say Humuhumunukunukuapua’a?

2010-03-12T13:05:00.002+02:00

FLASHBACK POST: October 6 - 24th, 2009
[post written on November 5, 2009]

The adventure in Hawaii was a success, and the warm weather was a welcome change after the early winter temperatures we experienced in Alaska. Other than the cockroach infestation in our rental car on Kauai we really have no complaints.

Our survey of three islands—The Big Island, Kauai, and Maui—leaves us undecided about which is our favorite. Each was amazing in its own way.

The Big Island (which we visited first, from October 6 - 13th, 2009) is the newest of Hawaii’s islands and is still growing. We were lucky to witness this magnificent sight on our last night on the island. We walked about ½ mile in the dark to a point where it was possible to see the red, glowing magma flowing down the mountainside and into the ocean. This was truly an unreal sight, and the nighttime pictures don't do it justice, so here is a daytime shot from a distance:

On the Big Island we also enjoyed really wonderful snorkeling at Kealakekua Bay, where we also went sea kayaking. At Ho’okenna beach we spent some time watching dolphins play about while sitting on the black sand.

We went to Kauai next, where we hiked the amazing Kalalau trail (see other post of this title). We spent a relaxing day exploring Waimea canyon where we hiked to and lounged in a beautiful waterfall. Luckily we didn’t contract leptospirosis. We topped that day off with a delicious shave-ice (like a snow cone on steroids) from Jojo’s, and retreated to our ‘luxury’ hotel (much nicer accommodations than camping, but with awesome 70s décor including bright turquoise carpeting throughout).

Sunset at Kalalau beach

Our final stop was Maui, definitely the most touristy of the islands we visited. We spent two chilly nights camping on the slopes of Mt. Haleakala (with few other tourists) and watched a gorgeous sunset from its slopes at about 8500 feet. From there we drove the road to Hana with many other tourists, most of whom were in convertibles. This windy mostly two-lane road snakes around the east coast of Maui and is famous for its lush forests, waterfalls, and views of the pristine coastline. The highlight of our day was swimming in a waterfall about half way to Hana and the red sand beach we scrambled to towards the end of the road. We spent that night camped near cliffs above the ocean next to a crazy man who was blasting hard rock music while stoking an inferno of burning logs in his BBQ grill with lighter fluid. The drive from Hana back around the desolate south side of Haleakala – an arid landscape littered with remnants of lava flows from years past – around to where we began was a harsh contrast to and at least as beautiful as the lush drive from the day before.

Sunset from near the top of Mt. Haleakala.

Rich likes Kalua pig sandwiches.

Carissa and Rich at a windy black-sand beach near Hana.

Rich hanging from a tree near our beachside campsite in Haleakala national park.

Secret beach south of Kihei, Maui.

We spent the last 2 days on the island lounging on the beaches of Kihei (South Maui), snorkeling with the Humuhumunukunukuapua’a (Hawaii’s state fish), and eating deliciously spicy Thai food. [Editor’s note: having actually been to Thailand and surveyed lots of its delicious food, we now believe the description of this Maui food as ‘spicy’ to be exaggerated.]

All travel and no writing makes this blog a dull read

2010-03-02T18:42:00.000+02:00

We have been woefully neglectful of our blog for far too long. We have heard the pleas of our devoted readers (ok, a few friends and family), and will do our best to catch you up on our whereabouts for the last 6 weeks or so. So many things have happened since we last wrote from Kampala, Uganda. Here‘s a quick overview; more detailed posts and pictures are coming soon (we promise!):

We spent an amazing New Year’s in the Serengeti (Tanzania): lions and leopards and hot air balloons, oh my!
Rich celebrated his 31st birthday in Nairobi, Kenya.
We made our way across Uganda visiting Jinja and Kampala on the way to beautiful and remote Lake Bunyoni. En route we had the craziest 12-hour bus ride of our world tour thus far.
Kigali, Rwanda awed us and we spent an amazing day trekking to see mountain gorillas.
Continent-hopping around the world to celebrate our friends’ John and Tricia’s wedding, our flight plan went like this: Nairobi to Doha, Qatar to Hong Kong to Taiwan to Los Angeles to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Phew. Then back to Hong Kong.
Hong Kong: still got a crick in our necks from looking up (and the rock hard beds).
Began our Southeast Asia tour in Bangkok, Thailand and are now enjoying the cooler mountain air in Chiang Rai, Thailand. Next stop: Laos.

Obamania

2010-01-17T16:44:00.054+02:00

Though we can’t say we agree with the Nobel committee’s decision to award Barack Obama with the Nobel Peace Prize this year (the opinion that is was awarded to him based on oratorial skills not actions seems accurate to us), we are generally fans of his work. And though we had heard the news reports, along with everyone else in America, about how President Obama’s election had resulted in celebration around the world, we were not prepared for how ubiquitous his image would be in every day life throughout many countries we’ve visited. We always seem to find these things when we’re walking about without a camera or in settings where it would be impolite to take a picture - but we've posted the few we have below.

His face is everywhere:

A large framed picture of Obama in a restaurant in Zomba, Malawi (see below):

kangas (the printed cloth used to make clothing or used as cloth wraps), including a green one displaying the presidents front side on a woman’s back side near Arusha, Tanzania (see below)

a side-of-the highway cart on wheels selling a little bit of everything called Obama Store (in red white and blue writing, of course) in Karatu, Tanzania
a calendar in window of an HIV/AIDS education center in Jinja, Uganda emblazoned with his picture and the phrase Year of Obama
Obama Pub on the outskirts of arusha, Tanzania - a bland looking building with the slogan ‘change is here’ painted on the wall
Obama Mobile Take Away car in Kampala, Uganda - we saw this 4-door mini-Scion covered in pictures of Obama and the meals for sale out of this car in different parts of central Kampala (see below)

A taxi driver who had been nicknamed/changed his name to Obama because he is such a big fan. He had a plastic-framed passport-sized photo of Obama hanging with a cross on his rearview mirror in Kabale, Uganda.
Obama Mini Market in a bustling part of Kigali, Rwanda near the shuttle bus garages

We’ve also had many people profess their enthusiasm about and adoration of Obama to us as soon as they find out we’re American. The first really memorable encounter was with the immigration officer as we were leaving Malawi for Mozambique who, while officially rubber-stamping our passports, told us how much he preferred Obama to George Bush. On numerous occasions when we’ve answered the question of where we’re from by saying “We’re American,” the first word uttered in response is “Obama.” For Rich, this has sometimes also been accompanied by a fist-bump.

For some, the enthusiasm over Obama’s election as the American president has gone even further. Our guide on the Intrepidmobile, MJ, mentioned to us that some of his friends were very hopeful that Obama’s election would lead to direct improvements in their lives in Kenya. While we’re skeptical about just how much Obama can or will do to this end, at least its nice for us, as travelers, to have a president who is regarded favorably by most people we meet.

Zanzibar

2009-12-30T15:52:00.041+02:00

Zanzibar. Sounds exotic, doesn’t it? As one of East Africa’s great trading centers, it has for centuries been a melting pot of Arabian, Indian, and African cultures. As early as the 12th century, the archipelago (made up of Zanzibar and the lesser known Pemba Island) became a key exporter of slaves, gold, ivory, and wood to locations in India and Asia. In return, Zanzibar imported spices, which its subsequently began farming and exporting. Today, 95% of Zanzibar’s population is Muslim. A perfect place for a secular celebration of Christmas.

Stone Town, the main city on the island, is an ancient city with winding narrow streets flanked by 3-4 storey, often crumbling buildings. A few main avenues through the town are wide enough to fit a car, but the majority of the streets are better navigated by motorcycle, bicycle or foot. These tiny lanes are often bustling with women in traditional Muslim dress, men pushing carts stacked high with a variety of goods for sale, children playing marbles in the dirt between ancient cobblestones. A modern grid layout was not a consideration of the urban planners of the 15th century, so on our arrival we worried we would quickly become lost when walking around. Luckily, our worries were in vain and exploring the cobbled lanes while poking our heads into shops became our favorite activity in Stone Town. Elaborate carved wooden doors are common features of residences and businesses throughout the town. We are told that historically a new building had its new door erected first and then the structure built around it.

Rich walking down the streets of Stone Town, Zanzibar.

Interesting old building.

Church and mosque side-by-side as seen from the streets of Stone Town.

One of many intricate doorways in Stone Town.

Our arrival in Stone Town marked the third week of an island-wide blackout. The power to the island relies on an underwater powerline from mainland Tanzania that had broken. According to locals we talked to, this was the third time in the last few years the cable has faltered: 4 years ago power to the island was cut off for 2 weeks, and just a year ago the cable was damaged leaving the island without power for 40 days. The word on the streets was that it would be another month before the government determined how long it would be before the cable was repaired.

People (who normally have electricity; there are plenty on Zanzibar who don’t) went about their lives as normally as they could. Businesses, such as hotels, were kept going by petrol-powered generators - an expensive alternative. Our hotel’ generator allowed us to run a fan in our hotel room for a few hours in the evening - a welcome relief from the hot and humid weather.

To escape the heat of Stone Town, we headed to the east coast beach village of Jambiani. The beaches and turquoise ocean were beautiful. If not for the seaweed that commonly amasses on shore this time of year, the white sand would have been the archetype of a perfect beach. We spent one morning snorkeling off the dhow of Captain Haji and saw many beautiful fish, huge sea urchins, and one massive clam (and fortunately no reef sharks).

The view from Jambiani beach.

Jambiani beach is much quieter and more mellow than other more well-known party-beaches on the other side of the island. The beach is lined with small bungalow-style hotels and we had the pleasure of taking long walks on the beach in front of them (really!). In the evening time it was common to weave in and out of the beach soccer games of young men, coached soccer practices of boys, and keep-away games of even younger boys. After dark, we decided that here at the beach there was at least one benefit of the island-wide blackout…floodlights would have ruined the ambience.

To break up the days of lazing on the beach, we took a day trip to Jozani Forest Reserve - an old growth forest and mangrove swamp in the center of the island. During our visit, we huddled under umbrellas while Zanzibar red colobus monkeys huddled under leaves of nearby trees to escape a tropical rainstorm. After a very un-Christmasy Christmas spent on the beach, we returned to Stone Town for a couple more days, one of which was partially devoted to a Spice Tour. Though spices were historically imported to Zanzibar, nowadays there are many spice farms on the island. We strolled through one of these farms while munching on fruits such as breadfruit, pineapple, and rambutan right off the tree, and got to learn about and see the plants from which cardamom, nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla, and cloves are harvested. After the farm tour we chowed down a locally-prepared meal incorporating many of the spices - it was delicious, and a great way to spend our last day in Zanzibar.

Zanzibar red colobus monkey at Jozani Forest.

Walking through the forest at Jozani.

Carissa rocking some palm-leaf specs.

Nutmeg and mace.

Peppercorns.

Rich before and after his haircut on Zanzibar.

The view of Stone Town from the Sea Bus ferry to Dar Es Salaam.

A day in the life

2009-12-20T16:28:00.037+02:00

Our last post (which was way too long ago, sorry) announced we would be departing Ilha de Mozambique for Pemba, farther north on the Mozambican coast, at the ungodly hour of 3 in the morning. Leaving at this time was necessary to get to the Namialo crossroads before the bus we wanted to flag down (coming from another location) passed that spot on its way to Pemba. Note: no one can give an exact answer when the bus may pass this crossroads - could be 5:30am, could be 7am, could be Tuesday.

We had hoped Pemba would be the gateway to the Quirimbas Archipelago for us. However after speaking with a travel agent in Pemba we decided that the cost of getting to the white-sand islands was not a good splurge for this trip. Some day, though.

With this decided, it turned out getting to Pemba was the most remarkable thing about it, so here was our day.

2:42 am -- wake up
3:03 am -- continental breakfast (rolls, mango spread, tea/coffee) at our pensao
3:13 am -- call to prayer from the green mosque across the street (and the other mosque across the island)
3:24 am -- Rich (wearing his backpack and should bag) rides on the back of Miguel’s motorcycle across the bridge from Ilha to the mainland
3:35 am -- reaching the mainland, Miguel returns for Carissa; Rich gets into an empty chapa (mini-bus) blaring Lionel Richie tunes
3:46 am -- Carissa’s turn on the motorcycle, which dies part way across the bridge
4:03 am --the chapa is half full and Carissa gets in after walking the rest of the way across the bridge
4:17 am -- the chapa is nearly full and we notice a chicken with its legs bound is being passed in the back door. We simultaneous think “Chicken, don’t pee on my backpack!” and laugh aloud when we realize we’re both thinking the same thing.
4:22 am -- the chapa is full, we depart
5:27 am -- arrival at the Namialo crossroads, vendors race at the sight of our stopping chapa to be the first there to sell their wares
5:30 am -- we take seats on our backpacks along the roadside to await our bus

Carissa sitting on her pack at the Namialo crossroads around 5:40am. The roads are usually this packed this early, partially to avoid the heat later in the day.

5:31 am -- we are invited to a dance party across the street with some guys who apparently had been dancing and drinking all night; we decline, the techno beats and suggestive dancing go on
6:12 am -- first application of sunscreen, it is already hot enough to be sweating lots
6:38 am -- we board our bus, standing room only
7:37 am -- a seat opens up near where Carissa is standing, she gets to sit down
7:54 am -- our bus is struggling up the hills, we are passed by a much newer looking bus from the same company and wonder if we should have waited longer at the crossroads to get on that bus instead
8:01 am -- Rich gets to sit down, luckily next to Carissa
9:58 am -- we wish the five chatty men behind us would quiet down, they’ve been having way too good of a time since we got on the bus, we recognize we are grumpy
10:54 am -- the paved road becomes half-paved
12:01 pm -- colicky baby in front of up spits up on Carissa’s backpack. awesome.
12:52 pm -- we notice the 10-year old boy sitting next to us is “mining for gold” and decorating the wall with the booger harvest. carissa glares at him despite herself.
1:58 pm -- arrival at the bus station in Pemba, Mozambique. begin trying to figure out where to sleep tonight and where we can get some lunch.

Rich eating beef stew and nsima (nshima, ugali, pap) at Pemba Take Away.

Here are a few pictures of a beautiful sunset on the beach in Pemba:

Elated with Ilha de Mocambique

2009-12-17T20:59:00.003+02:00

We only intended to stay on Ilha de Mozambique for 2 nights, but tonight will be our fifth. Though the island is tiny (about 1.5 miles long by 0.25 miles wide) and has few tourist attractions (the old palace which has now become a museum, a few restaurants and places to stay) we have been charmed by its dilapidated beauty, friendly inhabitants, and constant ocean breezes without which the high temperatures and humidity would likely be unbearably (yes, we know most of our readers are rolling their eyes from the chilly northern hemisphere winter at that last sentence, but it’s true!).

Ilha (as everyone calls it, pronounced ee-lee-a) is just 3km off the coast of Mozambique and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The first Portuguese settlement on the island was established in 1507. By 1522 a tiny chapel had been built at the far northern tip of the island that, according to our guidebook, is the oldest European building in the southern hemisphere (however our guidebook has told us much mis-information, so any of you history buffs out there feel free to correct us on this.) It was the capital of the former Portuguese East Africa until the late 19th century when it was moved to what is now Maputo (the current capital of Mozambique).

Though many of the large, once-magnificent buildings aren’t that old (we’ve been told many were built in the late 1800s), nearly all of them are crumbling. We suspect heat, humidity, salty sea air, a 15 year civil war and poverty are at least some of the culprits. Regardless of their state, many are being used in one way or another. You’re equally likely to see feral cats in the interior of one and a nicely set up kitchen in the front room of another with children poking their little faces out of cracked doorways or the national flag indicating government offices on the next.

There is a stark contrast between the historic Stone Town – full of crumbling once-magnificent government buildings, churches, and a bright pink palace – and Makuti town on the southern end of the island – where most of the population lives in small thatched-roof homes squashed up one against the other with narrow winding streets from where the voices of children, chickens, and music blares most of the day.

View of Makuti town from our pensao rooftop.

Regardless of where we are on the island, we can always count a pleasant greeting and awkward but non-aggressive stare from one particular man. He is middle aged, wearing worn clothes and has a long black beard. Like one of those characters from a movie who makes a brief appearance in every scene (think Lee Travino in Billy Madison), he appears out of no where no matter where we are on the island. Day or night, he greets us in Portuguese as we try to hide our amusement at seeing him again (and again).

The food has been delicious. Lots of fresh fish, grilled squid, curries are some of our favorites with cocont rice accompanying everything. A local dish, matapa de siri-siri, is a wonderful stew of seaweed (we think), cashews, and peanut sauce. A staple of our diet has become mangoes: little ones, big ones, orange ones, green ones, stringy ones, juicy ones, pureed ones spread on breakfast rolls. We purchase ours from a friendly elderly woman who sells hers from in front of what appears to be her home (in one of the many crumbling old buildings) for only 2 meticais each (about $0.07 each) rather than the going rate of 3 meticais each. These prices make it seem even more ridiculous that we once paid $1.99 for a single mango at Willy St Co-op in Madison in the middle of the winter.

As we type this there are dueling live calls to prayer from two of the mosques on the island, one of which is directly across the street from our guesthouse. According to our guide at the [former palace] museum, Abdul, 95% of the island’s inhabitants are Muslim, 4% Christian, and 1% Hindu (apparently we’re the only agnostics on the island). The mosque across the street’s magnificent, faded green minaret is seen in this picture taken from the rooftop deck of our guesthouse. Though we’re used to it now, the 3:15am call to prayer blaring from the speakers caused us both to sit bolt upright our first night on the island.

Rich on our pensao's rooftop terrace with the massive green mosque is in the background.

On Wednesday Dec 16th we went on an all-day dhow (traditional East African sailboat) adventure with two other travelers (and a crew of 2) to 3 locations near Ilha. We visited the tiny, uninhabited Gao and Sansetien (we're not sure how to spell this one) islands as well as a beach on the mainland across from Ilha. The water and sand were awesome, as were our sunburns after spending 8 hours in the scorching sun (turns out SPF 30 has nothing on Mozambican rays).

View of the palace on Ilha as we departed for our dhow adventure.

The water was a gorgeous, clear blue (as seen here with the frayed edge of our dhow's sail).

Rich lounging on the dhow.

Rival dhow.

Rich munching on his bread and mango sandwich on the mainland beach.

Carissa in the park with one of the massive viney (rooty?) tree.

Sunset on the east shore of Ilha.

Sunset on the green mosque from our rooftop terrace.

Tomorrow we will begin our journey north up the Mozambican coast to Pemba at 3am. Yes, 3am – we have no idea why most of the public transit we’ve encountered in southern Africa leaves at such an unbelievably early hour – why not at least wait until sunrise at 5am?). The first portion of our journey: riding on the back of motorcycles while wearing our backpacks and shoulder bags across the 3km one-lane bridge connecting Ilha to the mainland. Should lead to a good story…

Quick update from Mangochi, Malawi

2009-12-09T17:42:00.000+02:00

Howdy loyal blog readers. We apologize for the long delay in posting anything. We've had minimal access to slow internet broken up by periodic energy black-outs, so the next 3 posts (all posted today) were written on the dates to which they're back-posted. There are no pictures (the connection would take FOREVER to load them), but we hope to post them as soon as we can.

We're now in Mangochi, Malawi preparing for our approach to Mozambique tomorrow. It will be the first country we visit where we speak neither the first nor second language of most people (portuguese not english is the official business language). We're hoping Rich's spanish knowledge will help us out. That and many gestures. We're planning to make our way across the northern part of the country to Ilha de Mocambique and Pemba in the next week or so.

We hope to post more about Malawi soon. Enjoy the next 3 posts while we walk back to our leaky hotel in a thunderstorm.

Just the two of us

2009-12-02T17:13:00.002+02:00

We arrived in Lilongwe, Malawi on Tuesday, 1 December. After 3 weeks in the spacious Intrepidmobile, we’ve really enjoyed using public transit (bus, shared minivan, shared taxi, etc) so far.
On the morning of November 30th at 5:30 am we boarded a bus for a 7-hour trip from Livingstone to Lusaka, Zambia’s capital city. As we waited to leave the station we were afraid of how much ear drum damage we would have by the time we got there as the speaker overhead was pumping out deafening Zambian music. The seats were comfortable (we had seats together on the 2-seat side of the bus) and we felt like we had a lot of room. As we got going the soundtrack changed to a best of Phil Collins and the song “We are the World” before switching to Zambian gospel music. The countryside was beautiful with a mix of scrubland and small farms.

Five hours into the trip, the music stopped abruptly only to be replaced by African nature films with titles such as ‘Royal Blood’ and ‘Cycle of Seasons’ on the onboard video system (which we had not even noticed until this point). We were roused from our tv-watching stupor part way into the second nature film as the brakes began to squeal while were turning left down a rainy hillside. As the bus skidded and nearly tipped over, many on board screamed and we all frantically looked around at each other for cues on how concerned we should be. The bus driver must have been scared too: he stopped the bus as soon as possible to check things over. The brakes and wheels must have been in good enough shape as we soon resumed the trip. Lions continued their struggle to survive on the video screens as we continued on to Lusaka.

The Lusaka bus station was a frantic place with aggressive taxi and mini bus drivers shouting “Big man” and “Boss” at Rich to try to get his attention (and business). With many offers for guidance to whatever we needed, it was hard to tell who to trust and where the scam might be coming from, but we managed to get led to the ticket booth for a bus company that reportedly could get us to our next destination the following day – Chipata in eastern Zambia. We purchased tickets from a somewhat sketchy booth for another seven-hour ride the next morning leaving at 7:30 am with a 7 am boarding.

After an interesting night chatting with fellow travelers at an odd hostel in Lusaka, we returned to the bus terminal the next morning, November 31st. A man who helped us find our bus told Rich, “NPS…it is unreliable, you should not be on it.” By chance we happened to arrive early at 6:40 am and after getting (we are pretty sure) scammed out of 20,000 Zambian kwacha (US$4) to put our bags below the bus, we boarded to find all but three seats filled. We wedged ourselves into the two remaining seats at the very back of the bus between the 4 other passengers already in this row, Carissa with her feet on a box another passenger was transporting with them. Despite our guide’s warnings that the bus was unreliable, the ride was fairly unremarkable through short on space.

There was no music or videos on this ride, but the landscape was pretty. Through Namibia, the desert had transitioned into scrubland as we headed north and everything has been green since Botswana. The big difference in Zambia is the soil. Even in western Zambia, the consistency of soil was largely sandy, but it has been a richer, darker red since entering eastern Zambia. More organic, we suppose. Farm plots are small and people are plowing them with oxen or by hand with hoes, but there is definitely more agriculture. And much more hilly terrain – really beautiful.

One of many road-side markets we passed between Lusaka and Chipata, Zambia.

Chipata is the easternmost city in Zambia on the highway that heads to Malawi’s capital Lilongwe. Bicycles are everywhere. This is the first place we have seen them as a common form of transport in Africa. They all seem to have racks over the back wheel and function as single-occupant taxis or as cargo-haulers. We are also now commonly seeing influences of Islam now—shops that are advertised as halaal, the dress of some people, and the large yellow mosque across the road from our hotel. We don’t know what was said during the live singing of the evening call to prayers from across the street, but it was melodious.

When we arrived in Chipata, Zambia, our bags (and only our bags) tumbled out of the luggage compartment of the bus into a massive puddle of red mud. Rich is attempting to remove some of the mud from them in this picture. They are still muddy.

A new month brings a new country…so on the 1st of December we awoke with the goal of getting ourselves to Lilongwe, Malawi. It was only 130-km away, but with two long days of travel behind us, we were dreading that the border crossing would be arduous. After changing money from Zambian kwacha to Malawian kwacha, we hopped into a shared taxi to get to the border 30-km away. With 6 passengers and the driver in a Toyota Tercel, it was cramped, but not too bad and the trip up the mountain to the border took no time at all. We crossed into Malawi without any trouble, and caught another shared taxi to the small town of Mchinji 12-km from the border. In Mchinji we hopped into a shared mini-bus in Lilongwe. 3 hours total…felt like no time at all. Except for the bus station which was, as expected, a frantic hive of human energy, so far Malawi has been a very friendly and relaxed place.

Livingstone, I presume

2009-11-26T17:12:00.002+02:00

We were expecting the river crossing into Zambia to take anywhere from a 1/2-hour to all-day after we arrived in the Intrepidmobile to wait for the ferry. All the truck traffic that used to go through Zimbabwe on its journey from South Africa to other parts of southern Africa now lines up for this one border crossing as fuel is more reliable in Zambia. We were told trucks wait anywhere from a day to weeks for the appropriate paperwork to get across the ferry into Zambia, and that sometimes after having been there for days the truck drivers may block the road out of frustration. Naturally this would have made our crossing more difficult.

Ferry used to cross Okavango River in Botswana (similar to the one mentioned in this post).

Fortunately, we had had an early start (6:30am) to try to beat the crowds… and it worked. Lickety split we were through Botswanan customs, waited 20-minutes for a ferry for us ,twenty schoolchildren, the Intrepidmobile, and two other cars to board, and we were on the other side in Zambia. Once through immigration, Carissa and I got to see what would become the one souvenir we would most frequently be solicited to buy—Zimbabwean currency. The largest note, One Hundred Trillion dollars, was practically worth nothing even when in use, but since Zimbabwe has abandoned their own currency in favor of the US dollar it has become a popular souvenir (or so the masses of men selling these bills on the street would like you to think).

We followed the Chobe River as it became the ‘mighty Zambezi’ and on to Livingstone, Zambia, where we camped near Victoria Falls. The river and falls separate Zambia from Zimbabwe and unfortunately Zambia gets the short end of the stick. The waterfalls on the Zambian side only flow powerfully in the height of the rainy season and wane between rainstorms. We visited the Zambian side on our arrival. It had been raining for the previous 3 days so the falls looked magnificent (though still a dry season flow).

Rich and Carissa at Victoria Falls (Zambia side).

Victoria Falls (from Zambia).

Us just above where the Zambezi plummets over the falls in Zambia.

Magnificent Victoria Falls.

A few days later when we crossed into Zimbabwe to try out the view from the other side, Zambia’s falls had obviously waned. In contrast, the Zimbabwean side was mighty and massive. Some sections of the falls were 93 meters tall and spray from them obscured the sky even from the opposite lip. There’s a bit of hype around which side of the falls is better, and whether its ‘worth’ the cost of the Zimbabwe visa to see the falls from that side, but our vote is a resounding yes – the views were just more breathtaking.

Devil's cataract (a portion of Vic Falls) on the Zimbabwe side.

Rich swinging from a very strong vine in Vic Falls NP, Zimbabwe.

Carissa and the massive Vic Falls (Zimbabwe side).

Rich just above the Boiling Point on the Zimbabwe side (with the much smaller Zambian falls in the background).

Since Zimbabwe’s tourism has declined in recent years, Livingstone, Zambia has taken on the mantle of Victoria Falls’ main town (replacing Zimbabwe’s Victoria Falls town as the tourist hub). Livingstone is 11-kilometers from the falls and less convenient than the town of Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe which basically overlooks the river. We stayed there in Livingstone for two days after we parted ways from our Interpidmobile friends. Passing up the opportunities to go river rafting or bungee jumping, we instead spent our time looking around the markets and managed to catch a Saturday morning anti-domestic and child abuse rally. Interspersed with dancing, there were speeches and educational skits to hammer home the point.

Our accommodation was a backpackers hostel named Jolly Boys. We’d describe it as a budget resort as it was the nicest hostel at which either of us has ever stayed. It had a friendly staff, great facilities including a pool and bar, and on Saturday night had a traditional drumming and dance show outside the kitchen where we prepared our dinner. Very fancy.

Indeed we’ve cut the apron strings with the Intrepidmobile and are traveling on our own using public transit. We’ll see how this compares...

Briefly boating through Botswana

2009-11-24T17:09:00.005+02:00

The Okavango Delta of northern Botswana is a 16,000 square kilometer area of beautiful river and creek channels through marshland. The Okavango River begins its journey in Angola and the waters of the rainy season there take three months to make their way through Namibia and into the floodplains of Botswana. We are told that it is the only river in the world that terminates into the middle of a landlocked country; its waters just seep into the Kalahari desert.

Although we experienced some monstrous thunderstorms in northern Namibia, the water from those rains have not yet made it to the Delta so there are fewer lagoons and channels. This was to our advantage.

Our group disembarked from the Interpidmobile and climbed into mokoros (2-passenger, one-poler dugout canoes) to travel to our camp an hour’s journey away. Bayju, our poler, taught us about the birds and trees of the Delta as we cruised among the papyrus stalks and grazing cattle waded in front of us. It wasn’t until we were close to our destination that he revealed to us that the channels we had been travelling through were maintained by hippos, and then we heard them. A big pod of maybe 60 animals were grunting and cavorting in the lagoon near our campsite. After setting up camp (on dry land), we returned to the lagoon to watch the sunset at eye level with the the hippos and crocodiles.

Cow grazing in the delta.

Hippo showing us his teeth before sunset, Okavango Delta.

Sunset from our mokoro, Okavango Delta Botswana.

As we sat around the campfire that night, a lightning storm lit up the sky around us in every direction as if we were in its eye. The rain never came, but the flying termites sure did. We were getting used to these rainy-season visitors by this point: we had watched their evening ritual of emerging from their 6-ft tall nests after dark to mate and head off into the world to make new colonies since leaving the deserts of Namibia. Much like moths, thousands of these 1/2-inch flying insects bombarded us (flying into the backs of our heads) as we sat next to the campfire. Our plan was just to keep them out of our shirts and let them be, but our polers rapidly dug a hole to collect them in for a meal at some other time. We are told they are delicious rainy-season delicacy once pan-fried.

The mokoro was our main way of getting around the Delta and after three days. Once back on the Intrepidmobile we traveled on to Chobe National Park in northeastern Botswana. Chobe is renowned for its elephant herds, so we were excited as these big beasts had eluded us for the most part when we were Etosha National Park (in Namibia). We were not to be disappointed as we found a few herds near the main roads even on our way into the park and our campsite near the Chobe River on the outskirts of the border town of Kasane. On the morning of November 23 we went on an early morning game drive (Beilttog sibs: the vehicles were exactly like the ones from the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland) where we saw some creatures, but it was the evening boat cruise on the river that really yielded great animal watching. Groups of hippos were up out of the water grazing on the river banks, each with an egret following along to munch up the upturned bugs. Although most of the hippos paid us no mind, it was crazy to see some of them sprint full speed back to the safety of the water, crashing into it with a big Hippo grunt. We were lucky enough to find three groups of elephants down at the river drinking their daily water ration (up to 50 gallons for the big matriarchs), playing in the mud, and socializing. There were quite a few super-adorable baby elephants with their mothers.
Chobe NP and the town of Kasane –near the junction of the four countries of Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, and Zimbabwe – were our last taste of Botswana. From here we crossed the river into Zambia.

Big bull elephant, Okavango Delta.

Baobab tree at the Botswana/Namibia border.

Warthog at our campsite near Chobe National Park, Botswana.

Warthog family cruising the parking lot near the grocery store in Kasane, Botswana (near Chobe).

Hippos (and their egrets) grazing along the Chobe River, Botswana.

Elephants along the Chobe River.

North through Namibia

2009-11-18T13:40:00.001+02:00

Today is our last full day in Namibia as tomorrow we will cross the border into Botswana and head to the Okavango Delta. For now we are camped along the Kavango River 4km outside the city of Rundu in the very north of the country near the border with Angola. It’s a more populated area than we are used to in this country. We are told that this is because the area has been largely settled by Angolan refugees from their civil war.

Over the last week, travel from Swakopmund has been through desert and largely on gravel roads. The major stops we’ve made have been to visit the Cape Cross Seal Colony, Spitzkoppe mountain, Etosha National Park, and the Grashoek village of the San Bushmen people. At times we’ve felt like we were melting with temperatures up to 95 degrees Fahrenheit, but as we continue north we are heading into the rainy season and colossal thunder storms have been greeting us in the afternoon.

The Cape Cross seal colony just north of Swakopmund, Namibia is home to 80-100,000 Cape fur seals. We were fortunate to visit during the time of year when many pups are born – prime time for males to be defending their territory and harem. The pups were adorable, making ridiculous lost-lamb bleating noises and trying to scoot about on the sand. The enormous males, about 3 times the size of females, clumsily bulldoze over anything or anyone in their path while they bark and defend their beachfront property.

LOTS of Cape Fur seals at Cape Cross, Namibia.

Mama seal and pup.

Spitzkoppe and its neighboring mountains rise out of the desert 700 meters without any surrounding foothills for a total height of about 1700 meters.. Yellow in appearance they are a granite made of much more quartz and feldspar than mica, but very grippy under the soles of your shoes and fun to scramble up. We spent 5 hours one morning climbing nearly to the top of one monolith with two friends before finding the route impassable and the day too hot to find another way. The succulent plants, trees and cactuses that we passed on our climb continue to remind us of Dr. Seuss illustrations.

Spitzkoppe and surrounding mountains.

Rich hugging a cactus.

Carissa's favorite Dr. Seuss tree.

Etosha National Park is a 22,000 acre reserve for wildlife in the north-central portion of Namibia. It is centered around a 60 km-diameter salt flat (the Etosha Pan) that was dry for us, but in the rainy season is a briny lake that attracts thousands of flamingoes. The surrounding bush is savannah and scrubland. We stayed in two separate campsites that were quite luxurious by our American-National Park standards as they are marketed as wildlife resorts. Swimming pools helped us cool down after the log days and flood-lights on the adjacent water-holes allowed us to see the visiting nighttime beasts. Black rhino, some elephants and giraffe were the most frequent visitors we saw at the water-holes. Lions lurked in the darkness making eerie calls – a strange sound to be awakened to in the middle of the night.

Elephants and a rhino in the flood-light waterhole - Etosha NP.

Floodlit rhinos.

During the daytime, while touring in the Interpidmobile, we saw tons of antelope species and were lucky to see three huge prides of lions. Two of these groups were feeding while we watched—one on a rhino and the other on a zebra. The cubs playing around their parents were of course lots of fun to watch.

Sunrise at our campsite in Etosha National Park.

Female lion and cubs on a rhino kill.

From left to right: springbok, oryx, zebra, wildebeest, oryx.

Old-man Kudu.

Pumba (warthog) in a water hole.

Oryx

Lions near a zebra kill.

Approaching storm in Etosha.

Yesterday (Nov 17), we visited the village of Grashoek . Approximately 6 km from the main (packed gravel) road on a sandy track just wide enough for the Intrepidmobile is a community of approximately 200 San people who reside here after being relocated from the Namibian desert and stripped of hunting privileges. The San were traditionally a nomadic, hunter-gatherer people and are perhaps most famous in Western culture for their clicking-language and their (questionably realistic) role in the movie The gods must be crazy. To supplement the community’s income they have created a ‘living museum’ which provides some insight into what the San traditional way of life had been, and how different practices have been integrated into their modern lives. Though hunting is illegal, gathering is still a big part of their subsistence. We went on a bush walk and learned of the many uses of different plants for food, water and medicine.

San bushmen in traditional dress demonstrating how to make fire.

At night we watched traditional dance performance. Singing and clapping maintain the rhythm as a healer demonstrated how through dance many ailments would be “brought out” of individuals. In the background was the audible din of a generator running about 250 yards behind the performers to power the only lights in the village – one red, one white, and one blue – at the village bar. An interesting juxtaposition of old and new. It was nice to meet some of the people of this community, but still strange to visit people for tourism purposes. Playing with the kids that came to watch us put up our tents helped a lot, though. Carissa became a jungle gym for as many as four different little ones at a time and some young boys played keep-away from Rich with a soccer ball and some others of our group.

Desert-ed in Namibia

2009-11-12T13:46:00.001+02:00

Carissa at the Cape of Good Hope.

After 6 days of traveling in the Intrepidmobile (the name the two of us have given the overland truck our group of 14 people we’re traveling in), we arrived yesterday in Swakopmund, Namibia. This city of approximately 20,000 is an odd oasis in the expansive Namibian desert landscape – imagine a German-styled town (including German street names) with palm trees plunked down between massive sand dunes and the Atlantic coast.

So far we’ve had a great time with the group – an interesting mix of people from Australia, New Zealand, the UK, Germany, Holland, Switzerland, and us—all under the supervision of 3 Kenyans. Linguamorphs that we are, we’ve once again found ourselves using different words and phrases than usual. For example, rather than ‘too’ or ‘also’ we’ve quite quickly adapted to saying ‘as well,’ Other than last night, we’ve been camping in two-person canvas wall tents with wrought-iron poles that are fierce spring-loaded weapons when taking the tent down.

We’ve visited some really beautiful places including the Cape Point and Cape of Good Hope in Table Mountain National Park in South Africa; the Fish River Canyon (southern Namibia) at dusk; and sunrise atop Dune 45 in Namib-Naukluft Park (Namibia). The constantly changing desert in between these sites has been impressive. As we roll by in the Interpidmobile, rocky moonscapes spotted with tufts of grass become barren then trees reappear that Dr. Seuss might have drawn.

Beach at the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa.

Orange River at the border of South Africa and Namibia

Dr. Seuss-ian tree at Fish River Canyon, Namibia

Fish River Canyon, Namibia (World's second deepest and widest canyon, 25km between rims).

Namibian desert and cactus friend.

Nest of social weaver birds (from a distance and up close). Approximately 100 birds live in a nest this size.

Rich with his box of favourite favourites cookies in the Intrepidmobile.

Rich hiking Dune 45 just before sunrise.

Dune in the Namib-Naukluft Park.

Sossusvlei, Namib-Naukluft Park.

Camping in the middle of the desert.

We're excited to be driving across the Tropic of Capricorn (especially since Rich is a Capricorn).

Though we’ve been enjoying the sights, we (Carissa in particular) have been struggling a bit with our insulation from the communities we’ve passed along the way. The vast majority of people we’ve come across are other tourists or employees of shops, campgrounds, etc. that largely cater to groups like ours or other individuals traveling overland in this region. It feels odd to have such minimal contact with local people and to have learned nearly nothing about the way of life of people living in the region or to not have tasted many local dishes. This is not so different than road-trips we’ve taken in the US where we visit National Parks, maybe have a meal at a local restaurant but mostly don’t interact with the local people in any significant way. For some reason this feels more unsettling/unsatisfying here.

From the early days of planning this trip we’ve been struggling with the idea of being tourists, and trying to determine whether to visit more countries for less time (seeing the sights but perhaps not learning much about what life is like in any given location) or fewer countries for more time (hopefully gaining greater exposure to and understanding about the lives of people living in each country). Though we’d prefer to do the latter, to this point we’ve been reluctant to cross countries off our ‘to visit’ list. Perhaps after a few more weeks of changing our location daily we’ll be more inclined to do so.

Greetings from South Africa!

2009-11-05T12:15:00.002+02:00

We’ve found our way to the southern tip of Africa. We arrived in Cape Town, South Africa on Carissa’s 30th birthday (Sunday, November 1st) after 2 long but uneventful flights (Seattle – Amsterdam – Cape Town). Though we’ve only been here a few days, we’ve really enjoyed exploring the city and surrounding areas. Cape Town is a really massive city that incorporates everything from impoverished townships to fancy-schmantzy resorts on the beautiful Atlantic coast (note: the water is VERY cold here). What’s more, the city is surrounded by picturesque mountains that offer expansive views of the city as well as the Atlantic and Indian Oceans.

Camps Bay beach, Cape Town

Sunset from Table Mountain, Cape Town

Later this evening we will meet up with the group with which we’ll be traveling for the next 20 days. We have mixed feelings about the prospect of group travel and are crossing our fingers that there are at least a few fun people on the trip. But, we’re both really excited about the places we’ll be going. Tomorrow we’ll be starting the drive from here up through the western portion of South Africa, into Namibia to close to the border with Angola. Here we’ll head east through the Caprivi strip and into the Okavango Delta of Botswana before ending up in Zambia at Victoria Falls.

Here’s a map of the route:

Kalalau trail - Kauai

2009-10-24T09:56:00.084+02:00

The highlight of our 18 days in Hawaii was the Kalalau Trail – a 22 mile (round trip) hike along the Na Pali coast on Kauai’s northwest side. This trail is one of the most well-known hikes in Kauai, in part for the beautiful views as well as for being frighteningly narrow while traversing sheer cliffs several hundred feet above the thunderous ocean. Fortunately for us the trail turned out to be less sketchy than we expected from its reputation.

We slogged along the muddy trail for nearly 9 hours wandering in and out of lush valleys, across numerous streams, and stopping for lots of pictures of the almost artificially beautiful coastline views. Although exhausting, the reward at Kalalau beach was worth it – a shady wooded campsite squashed between the cliffs and the beach; a serene waterfall to clean off in and drink from; and a beautiful secluded beach with really massive waves (no swimming!). As night fell, we were awed by the sunset. When the forest creatures went to bed, we were left only with the sound of the waves which resonated against the cliffs behind us, lulling us to sleep.

Our campsite at Kalalau beach.

We spent a day relaxing (and recovering from the rough 11 miles) watching the waves on the beach and frolicking in the waterfall, and watching an even more beautiful sunset. We reluctantly left Kalalau on day 3, but fortunately the trail was less muddy so it only took us 7.5 hours to reach the trailhead (and many tourists sunning themselves on the beach).

Hanakapia'i beach

The most surreal part of the whole experience happened a few days later when we were visiting Waimea Canyon and came upon the Kalalau lookout point. Just a short walk from our rental car we were standing atop the nearly 5000ft tall cliffs that had towered over us while we lounged on the pleasantly remote Kalalau beach just days before. It was odd to look down upon the massive valley we had worked so hard to reach from this vantage point, especially since the lush foliage made it impossible to see the beach or campers in the area. None of the other tourists standing around us gazing into the valley even knew this wonderfully remote beach exists.

The trail finally descending to Kalalau beach.

Carissa on the final stretch to Kalalau beach.

Rich in front of our campsite on Kalalau beach.

Mortimer chasing sand crabs, again.

Rich at the waterfall.

Cloudy sunset from Kalalau beach.

Very tall (and pokey) plants abound on this trail.

Rich on the trail and being squished by the horizon.

20 miles down and still smiling

The view of Kalalau valley from above in Waimea Canyon.

In the middle of a waterfall in Waimea Canyon.

The Big Island

2009-10-13T05:15:00.001+02:00

After a brief couple days in Seattle and Odessa relaxing and visiting Carissa’s families, we headed further west (and south) to Hawaii. It was a chilly 34 degrees out when we boarded our first of 3 planes en route to the Big Island of Hawaii – a mere 50 degrees cooler than it was when we landed in Hilo later that afternoon.

We spent a day bumming around Hilo eating very delicious spicy Thai food and relishing in the exotic fruits at the Hilo Farmer’s Market before heading up to the hill to Volcanoes National Park. Our first night camping we nearly drown – there was a tsunami watch in effect, but our problem was the tropical rain on our sand-box style camping pad.

After wringing ourselves out the next morning, we began our hike across the lava down 2,600 feet to the backcountry beach Halape (holla – pay).

View of the beach far below us about midway through the hike.

Though this hike and the humidity kicked our butts a bit, the landscape we walked through was awesome – from barren pa’hoehoe (smooth) and a’a (sharp) lava fields to steep pali (hillsides) covered in grasses and dappled with lava, flowers, and spindly trees. The gorgeous secluded beach at the end was more than ample reward.

Halape Beach.

Rich happily making breakfast at Halape beach.

Beautiful purple flowers on vines covered some of the beach.

Another rainy evening was followed by a beautiful sunny morning. After a swim and breakfast we reversed our track and headed back up the hill much more slowly than we had descended the day before.

Carissa dwarfed by a tree fern at Volcanoes National Park.

That afternoon we left the park and headed to Kona on the west (allegedly dry) side of the island for some Ironman World Championship Triathlon spectating and more easily accessible beach bumming.

Sea Turtle

I'm on a boat

2009-10-03T22:19:00.001+02:00

To get you in the mood for this post, you should watch this hilarious video if you're not familiar with it. PARENTAL ADVISORY: explicit language.
We made several stops on our way driving up to Alaska from Wisconsin (see previous posts) so had somewhat lost track of exactly how far we’d travelled. Spending 66 hours on 4 different ferries and a total of 5 full days getting from Haines, Alaska to Seattle, Washington reminded us just how far away America’s Last Frontier is from the lower 48.

That said, we had an awesome time on the ferries and saw many sights – including humpback whales, the proposed site of the infamous ‘bridge to nowhere,’ and more glaciers and fjords than you can shake a stick at (Rich loves this phrase).

Our favorite ferry was M/V Matanuska on which we spent 46 hours traveling from Juneau, AK to Prince Rupert, BC. Being hard-core (and stingy) as we are, we elected not to pay for a cabin and sleep on the top deck of the boat instead. Conditions on the upper deck have come a long way since ferry travelers from yesteryear snuggled up on the ground next to the bathrooms: we found ourselves a cozy spot on lawn chairs under the yellow glass and heat lamps of the Solarium.

The Solarium (with Carissa on her chair at the back left).

Carissa in her chair in our cozy Solarium.

From the comfort of our chairs we had a 180 degree view off the back of the boat (also used as a helicopter landing pad) at the sights going by. Normally this view was of the ocean, lighthouses, fjords, glaciers, and other natural wonders. But on one occasion was the Wrangell, AK high school girls’ volleyball team’s afternoon workout - that is, until one of the ship’s watchmen put an end to the fun after people eating in the cafeteria on the deck below complained about the thunderous pounding noises of squat-jumps. It turns out that if you live in southeast Alaska your nearest competitors may be a 1.5 day ferry ride away in cities which are often inaccessible by roads.

View from our chairs in the Solarium.

Rich at the end of the heli pad deck.

The ferry from Prince Rupert to Port Hardy, BC was much fancier but did take us through waters where we saw a pod of humpback whales splashing about. Our final ferry from Victoria, BC to Anacortes, WA was uneventful and thus led Tommy, a 5 year old English boy sitting near us, to declare to his mom as we arrived in Washington “Mummy, I’m really sad we haven’t seen any Orcas” before he burst into tears.

Mortimer about to board the WA State Ferry "Chelan" in Victoria, BC.

Huck Hobbit's Homestead

2009-10-03T00:28:00.019+02:00

One of the many decisions when traveling is whether to bring a guidebook, and if so, which one to select. After several weeks on the road in Alaska, we had decided that our guidebook was totally useless – it had precious little information about most places we ended up visiting (listing only 1 restaurant or expensive hotel in some larger towns) and the amount of incorrect information was disappointing.

However, our guidebook did lead us to Huck Hobbit’s Homestead, hostel, and campground - one of the favorite places we visited. Steve and Joy Hobbes moved to just outside of Slana, Alaska (near Wrangell St-Elias National Park) from Nebraska in 1985 to fulfill Steve’s dream of living-off-the-land during one of the last waves of homesteading in Alaska. Over time they acquired 87 acres of gorgeous property on which they have built a beautiful home as well as cozy cabins for weary travelers, complete with wood stoves and bunk beds. They support themselves by hosting guests, running canoe float trips on the nearby Slana River, and selling the pelts of animals and hats made of pelts that Steve traps on their property.

We had an amazing time here – sleeping like logs in the wood-stove heated rustic log cabin, taking a lazy canoe float down the river, and enjoying the beautiful mountain views, eating Joy’s delicious cooking, and learning from Steve and Joy about their experiences as homesteaders. They were just such genuinely nice, friendly, and fascinating people to spend time with.

As an extra bonus, a group of 6 law enforcement rangers from different corners of Wrangell St-Elias National Park were on an end-of-season business retreat at Huck Hobbit’s, so we got to enjoy a lively dinner and breakfast with these folks. They had us laughing until it hurt with stories of ‘crazy Alaskans’ they had encountered working and living in remote communities. Our personal favorite was about a German man who lives across the street from the park ranger station. He wears short jean shorts from April 1st – October 1st regardless of the weather (it was 22 one morning when we were there in mid September so we can only imagine how cold April 1st is!). Apparently this man likes to use his chainsaw, and also likes to drink gin, and sometimes does both. So this older woman ranger, Thelma, who is simultaneously hard-core and perfectly put together, tells us that one day she’s in the office and they hear a chainsaw cutting something – 2 normal cuts, and a third that stops suddenly with a thud. Thelma says they were all thinking “what did he do now?” and sure enough within a few seconds, Thelma’s phone was ringing – it was the German man asking if she had any duct tape. Instead, he ended up with 48 stitches in his thigh (just a few inches from his femoral artery). Apparently this is the price you pay for wearing Daisy Dukes in Alaska.

Glaciers and orcas and sea otters, oh my!

2009-09-22T04:36:00.000+02:00

We've spent the last 10 days on the Kenai peninsula - an easy drive south of Anchorage (its about 5 hours from Anchorage to to Homer, less to Seward). We read somewhere that it is one of the most visited areas in Alaska by both Alaskans and tourists. Justifiably so. The mountains climb straight out of the sea and though they aren't that tall (the highest is 4,990 feet), glaciers are around every corner. On the map to the left, the huge white area is the Harding Icefiled (30 miles wide by 50 miles long), from which several glaciers descend towards the sea.

First we drove to Seward (on the eastern side of the peninsula). We set up camp for several nights near there at Primrose Campground and made daily trips into Seward for a variety of adventures. We visited the Alaska Sealife Center - awesome exhibits and a sea lion named Woody who we could've watched swim around for hours. Another day we took a hike to Exit Glacier where we got to walk within feet of the glacier (and hike through areas that the glacier covered as recently as 1998). Global warming anyone? On the 12th we splurged on a 6-hour glacier and wildlife cruise to Aialik, Pederson, and Holgate Glaciers.

Carissa and Rich in front of (part of) Aialik Glacier.

We saw lots of wildlife:

sea otter chillin'

Orca whales froliking

We also got to watch an massive piece of Aialik Glacier, which is about 1-mile wide where it meets the sea, calve into the ice-filled bay. We attempted to take some videos, here's our best one (unfortunately this was taken about 30 seconds before the really big piece broke off - about 10 times the size of the piece in this video).

Homer, on the south-western tip of the peninsula, was our next destination - a 6 hour drive from Seward. After many drizzly days enjoyed the beautiful sunny driving day which afforded us views of the volcanoes Mt. Redoubt and Mt. Iliamna across Cook Inlet as we drove down the coast, and of Grewingk Glacier and the mountains surrounding Kachemak Bay and Homer.

Homer had a great vibe, though we admit the increase in sunshine we found here compared with Seward probably swayed our view of the city. Some of our favorite things: yummy snacks and beverages at the Two Sisters Bakery; wine tasting at Bear Creek Winery; hiking to Grewingk Lake in Kachemak Bay State Park. Bear Creek Winery does an amazing job of making wines using local ingredients such as the berries and vegetables that grow in Alaska - such as rasperberries, blueberries, and rhubarb. Some of their wines are blended using grape concentrate from other regions of the world. One example is their yummy Alaskan Chardonnay, a mix of rhubarb wine and Australian Chardonnay that even Carissa (who doesn't like the dry bite of Chardonnay) thought was delish. Our favorite of their wines was called Lo Lo Berry, a combination of Italian Barolo and local cranberries. Yum.

On our last day in the area we hired a water taxi to drop us off across Kachemak Bay at the Grewingk Glacier trailhead. The weather was perfect and the hike was awesome - it meandered through dense temperate rainforest covered in thick green mosses and along rocky moraine (the rocky remains left when a glacier recedes) to the lake. Here are some of our favorite pictures:

View across Kachemak Bay from the end of the Homer spit.

Beautiful skies in the small-boat harbor in Homer before our taxi ride across Kachemak Bay.

Rich on the hand tram over the Grewingk river.

Carissa on the same hand tram (and the view back to the launching pad).

Grewingk Glacier and Grewingk Lake.

Zombie salmon iceberg in Grewingk Lake.

Carissa and Rich at Grewingk Lake (Grewingk Glacier in the background).

We're back in Anchorage this evening - we have begun working our way back through the Yukon to catch our ferry from Haines, AK to Vancouver Island next Sunday Sept. 27th.

Musk Ox Farm

2009-09-19T00:16:00.000+02:00

Many apologies for the long time since our last post. Our time has been unglamorously filled with the trials of travel--where to eat, where to sleep, etc...

The rest is butter and in that category falls visiting a Musk Ox farm. Musk Ox are more closely related to sheep and goats than cattle or buffalo, but they have a very rugged look. Outside of Palmer, Alaska (near Anchorage) there is a farm where these creatures are raised for their wool, named qiviut (pronounced ki-vee-yute), which is 8-times warmer than sheep's wool and softer than cashmere (and pricier, too!).

Little Man the Musk Ox (not our name for him)

The male pictured above, Little Man, is twelve years old, about 4-feet tall at the shoulder, and weighs ~500 pounds. The little guy pictured next to Rich is a year old.

Musk Ox have been raised in captivity/domesticated for qiviut production only since the 1960s, so the level of tameness between individuals. Being well behaved is an important trait for these captive Musk Ox because these animals are not sheared for their qiviut; instead it is combed out manually by a human while the animal (hopefully) stands quietly in a chute. This can take many hours depending on the animal or region from which the qiviut is being combed.

Once collected a Native Alaskan cooperative, Oomingmak, knits the qiviut into hats, scarves and other garments, so they can augment their livelihoods in some very remote parts of Alaska.

Denali National Park

2009-09-11T07:32:00.001+02:00

We got the heck out of Anchorage (which, as far as we can tell, is a pretty sketchy town) and drove the 4 hours to Denali National Park. As we passed through scenic Wasila, we couldn't help berating John McCain and his campaign advisors.

We spent 2 relaxing days car-camping at Riley Creek campground in Denali National Park while plotting our attack on the Denali backcountry. On Sept 4th we jumped aboard the 'camper bus' headed towards Wonder Lake - 86 miles down the only road running through Denali. Six hours, 5 bears, and several Dall sheep and caribou later we hopped off the bus, picked up our bags, and set off to find our a place to sleep for the night. We found a gorgeous spot:

View of McKinley (tallest peak in North America) from our tent front door.

Carissa at the cook site (above) and the view of McKinley from the cook site (below).

Rich pumping water for breakfast at Moose Reflection Pond.

Moose Reflection Pond (which according to maps is a little blip without a name) is so called because shortly after this picture was taken we were kicked out of the area by a massive bull moose and his two lady friends. At their closest they were about 50 yards from us. Moose -who can weigh up to 1600 pounds- have a large sense of personal space, and can be particularly aggressive during mating season (when we were in Denali; we think we overheard and witnessed some shenanigans of this sort).

Moose quenching their thirst in Moose Reflection Pond after we skedaddled.

Later on the 5th we rode the camper bus to the Toklat River where we began our 4-day circumnavigation of Cabin Mountain in the Polychrome mountains area of Denali. We were really lucky and had awesome clear weather (except for a brief rainstorm on the 2nd night) although we had some chilly nights that left us with ice on the tent in the morning.

We avoided any encounters with bears perhaps at least in part because we were shouting"hey bear" every few seconds while tramping through thick brush (in an attempt not to surprise/get eaten by a bear; see previous post about Bearanoia). We did have some fun wildlife events: 2 wolves ran through our camp as we were setting up on the 1st night; in the middle of the 2nd night something snorted loudly at us (we laid very still and hoped it would ignore us - it did); and we saw lots of Dall sheep, in particular a 3-some that covered an area it took us 2 hours to cross in about 10 minutes, resulting in a bit of Dall sheep envy.

We also got lots of practice at crossing very cold rivers (36F). Fortunately at this time of year they aren't that deep (nothing over mid-thigh on Carissa). However, crossing 36F river water at 9am in frozen boots feels pretty much the same as walking with a refrigerator on your feet - it took hours to get warm toes back.

Sadly, the backpacking came to an end and we left Denali for Anchorage (and a few final travel vaccinations). Here are some pictures:

We're off to Exit Glacier and Seward on the Kenai Peninsula now!

We made it to Anchorage!

2009-09-02T18:43:00.001+01:00

We had a great drive on the the Alaska (or Al-Can) Highway: we saw lots of wildlife, soaked in hot springs, and camped in beautifully remote locations. And didn't get eaten by any bears along the way.

We're leaving for Denali National Park in a few minutes, and will be camping and backpacking for about a week. We promise to update the blog with more pictures and exciting tales of the travels of Rich and Carissa then.

Itinerary - what we think we'll do

2009-09-02T03:37:00.002+01:00

This is the list of places we think we'll be going in the next 9 months. I'm going to leave this post un-edited to see how this actually turns our. Look for another Itinerary post soon listing where we have actually been to see how close we come to our plans.

Road-trip portion of SimLieb World Tour
Lower 48 – Glacier National Park
Canada – Waterton Lakes, Banff, Jasper, Alaska-Canada highway
Alaska –Denali National Park, Kenai Peninsula, Kodiak Island
Hawaii – big island, Kauai, maui

Countries we think we'll visit:
South Africa
Namibia
Botswana
Zambia
Zimbabwe
Malawi
Mozambique?
Tanzania – including trip to Zanzibar
Kenya
Uganda
Rwanda
Singapore
Vietnam
Laos
Cambodia
Thailand?
Indonesia
Australia – visit Rich’s Aunt Aileen and cousins in Melbourne; drive Darwin to Adelaide
New Zealand

Alaska... here we come!

2009-08-29T04:51:00.001+01:00

Banff's BC sister

2009-08-29T02:53:00.000+01:00

A few hours west of Banff we stumbled upon a gem: Takakkaw Falls in Yoho National Park.

Neither of us had even heard of Yoho National Park (essentially the continuation of Banff National Park in BC rather than Alberta) before it was recommended to us by Carissa's step-dad Mel, who described it as even more beautiful than Banff. We had to go.

We drove up the Yoho River valley at twilight in search of a campsite to sleep at before hiking the Iceline trail the next morning, . We had been told there was a hike-in campgound near a waterfall at the end of the road, but were utterly unprepared for how massive Takakkaw Falls turned out to be. Absolutely stunning - a must see for anyone traveling to this area.

The next morning, August 26th, we set off to follow a route suggested to us by a store owner in Banff: the Iceline trail to the Celeste Lake Trail to Laughing Falls and back to our campground. It was another beautiful bluebird day and the hike was simply marvelous. We romped past glaciers and icefields, crossing several streams making their way from the glaciers to the valley over 2000 feet below us; descended through evergreen forests past many small glacial-green lakes. By the time we got to Laughing Falls we were feeling pooped and were glad to arrive at our campsite soon thereafter.

These pictures don't do it justice:

Takakkaw Falls from across the valley as we ascend the Iceline Trail.

Emerald Glacier.

The next day we stopped by Morraine Lake (another excellent recommendation from Mel) on our way towards Jasper National Park. Here are a couple pics:

One year and still happily hikin'

2009-08-25T18:16:00.000+01:00

The one firm plan we had made before leaving Madison en route to Alaska was to stay at Brewster's Shadow Lake Lodge (outside of the town of Banff) for our 1-year wedding anniversary celebration.

On Saturday August 22nd we hiked to this historic lodge which is about 13 km (or about 9 miles) from the Redearth Creek trailhead in Banff National Park. Although some reviews claimed the hike in was boring, to our mid-western acclimated eyes the trees and mountains were invigorating.

One of our favorite things about Shadow Lake Lodge is the afternoon tea - freshly baked scones, delicious cheeses, and all you can drink tea served from 3-5pm. Perfect to recover from all the calories burned during a day of hiking.

We spent our anniversary on a beautiful 8 mile hike from the lodge over Gibbon Pass to Twin Lakes and back. Splendid.

That evening we set our alarm for 12am to see the stars which were amazing (sorry, no pictures). On the 24th we got up extra early to check out sunrise above the mountains surrounding Shadow Lake. The ground was frosty and there was beautiful mist rising off the lake as the mountains turned shades of scarlet.

After 2 glorious nights we reluctantly hiked back down to Banff for the evening, but not before we were given a proper farewell by a moose grazing in the river near our cabins as we were packing our bags. Back in Banff we took a stroll to Bow Falls and soaked in the hot springs before driving to Yoho National Park.

Perhaps we're starting to get a hang of this 'vacation' thing.

Crazy creatures and wee beasties

2009-08-25T04:17:00.000+01:00

Since Rich is a veterinarian we are very attuned to the animals we encounter on this journey. Here are some photos of the creatures we have encountered thus far:

Mortimer (our Badger traveling companion from our friends in Madison) in the mouth of a Canada Goose just across the border in Minnesota. Luckily we saved him before the goose got too far away.

Wall Drug (Wall, South Dakota). A break from driving through the plains.

Montana's version of a zoo.

A herd of big-horned sheep at Logan Pass (Glacier National Park, MT).

Mountain goat and her baby eying us while wondering why we wouldn't move off her favorite path along the mountain (known to us humans as a hiking trail).

Mortimer en route to summit a mountain in Glacier National Park. He's tough.

Dogs beware: there are vicious deer at Waterton National Park, Canada (the Canadian side of the Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park). See how vicious they look below.

The deer behind Rich in this picture was on her way over to steal some of our dinner. She was so tame we had to actually shoo her away (not enough vegis in peanut sauce to share).

Can anyone help us with this one?

Bear-anoia

2009-08-25T03:29:00.001+01:00

Bearanoia (substitute 'bear' for 'par' in paranoia; noun): A condition afflicting those who have unexpectedly come across a bear while romping in the wilderness. People with bearanoia often mistake the sounds other forest creatures and the wind for an approaching attacking bear. Signs of severe bearanoia include talking and singing loudly while hiking, excessive hand-clapping, accelerated heart rate, and general jumpiness.

Driving from Butte towards Glacier National Park the sky stretches out in front of you the same way it does in the midwest, but the mountains framing its edges somehow change the curvature. Beware of the following cliche, but it really is Big Sky country- the vast blue sky just feels bigger.

We entered the west side of the Glacier, Tuesday, Aug. 18 and began driving towards the glaciers on the other side of the park via the Going to the Sun road that winds up the valley and along steep cliffs before reaching Logan Pass and plunging down to the east-side of the park.

On our way up the valley, we got a campsite on the shores of Lake McDonald and went for a short hike on the Cedar forest nature trail.

Wednesday morning we woke early to ascend the Loop trail (4 miles and 2200 feet elevation gain) to reach the Highline trail near Granite Chalet (a backcountry hike-in lodge for overnight guests) and traverse its 8 miles to Logan Pass. The sun had barely come up into the valley so we were hiking in cool shadows. The views were largely unobstructed as a 1967 fire had left just a skeleton of a forest all around us and some waist high brush.

Glacier National Park has bears: both Grizzly and Black. When hiking in Bear Country it is advisable to make lots of noise so as to never surprise a bear. Bear bells are insufficient so talking, occasionally shouting, and clapping hands were our strategies. At first we felt silly, but soon enough we didn't care that other hikers heard us as long as the bears did too.

Within 1/2 a mile of the start we spotted brush moving about 50-yards off the trail up-slope from us. Indeed it was a Grizzly. We were suddenly much more awake, our pulses racing knowing that we were less than half the advisable distance from this enormous furry animal. We clapped, shouted, and attempted to remain calm as we backed up the trail and fearfully watched to see what the bear would do. Though we're sure it must have spotted us long before we saw it, we were apparently not the least bit interesting to it. It was alone and focused on engulfing whole branches of ripe huckleberries with its huge mouth.

Maybe we should have retreated to the trailhead and found something else to do with our day, but we decided to quickly move past him. As we hustled past the bear seemed to grow bigger but continued placidly devouring huckleberries.

After this encounter, our bearanoia was in full effect. Large rocks became suspect. Squirrels rustling in bushes snapped our heads around. A report from some other hikers of a sow and two cubs "up ahead somewhere" did not help and we clapped with increasing frequency employing rocks to bang together--more sound and less sting than smacking your palms together.

We did not see any other bears that day, but there was a minor show-down with a Mountain goat momma and her kid (see "Crazy creatures and wee beasties" post).

The views were gorgeous. Here are a couple more pics:

It seems Ruby doesn't want to go to Alaska

2009-08-25T01:37:00.000+01:00

When we last posted, we were stuck in Bozeman, Montana. That Road Block saga ended amiably - we spent a lovely sunny afternoon in a nice little mountain town, the front right axle was fixed, and got on our way within a few hours.

45 minutes down the road, we received a phone call from the mechanic. He hesitantly asked, "So, how are things running. Makin' good progress?" Small talk? We wondered what he was up to. He got to the point quickly: the dipstick for the transmission fluid was sitting on his mechanic's workbench (instead of in our car, as it should be). He assured us we could drive safely without the dipstick - fortunate, since we were already 70 miles west of Bozeman - but told us we'd want to get it back in as soon as possible.

Flashbacks of our first attempt to leave Madison popped into our heads. Turning around wasn't an option - we were supposed to have already been setting into our campsite at Glacier National Park by that time! The mechanic began calling around to various waypoints ahead of us to get us a replacement dipstick as soon as possible. Butte, Montana became our new destination.

We pulled into another Subaru dealership just before closing. The service manager ran out into the lot, popped open the hood of a new Subaru WRX and began pillaging its parts on our behalf. He soon had us on our way. The moral of the story: be wary of purchasing a new Subaru in Montana as we may have its parts.

We still had enough daylight after Butte to make it to Flathead Lake just south of Glacier Nat'l Park.

Wetlands south of Flathead lake, MT.

All the mechanical issues weren't really Ruby's (the car's) fault; however, she has made another effort at knocking us off course. Once over the border into Canada, as we were leaving Waterton Lakes National Park on the morning of Aug. 21, Rich (unsuccessfully) attempted to kill a mosquito against the inside of the windshield.

As cracks shot out in 3 directions from where he hit the glass, all both of us could say was, "Are you kidding me?" The cracks were small at first, but they're creeping further outward daily. Next thing we know we'll have to buy motorcycle goggles.

Road Block: Bozeman, Montana

2009-08-17T19:30:00.000+01:00

One of our guilty pleasures is watching the show The Amazing Race. If you've ever watched that show, you know that a Road Block requires contestants to complete a task before moving on to their next destination. For us, this task is to successfully find a Subaru service center that will replace/repair our right axle for us before sundown on Monday, August 17th before we can make our way to Glacier National Park (where we'd planned to camp this evening).

To clarify, there was no incident resulting in a broken axle just some apparently shoddy looking-over of Ruby (our car) at our local Subaru dealership before we hit the road (according to the nice folks in Bozeman, MT the axle has been in bad shape for more than the ~1200 miles we've driven in the last few days).

The good news: this Road Block has afforded us a chance to access the internet and we expect to be back on our way towards Glacier this afternon. The bad news: the camera is in the car (which is in the service garage) so no pictures as of now!

Brief recap of the last few days: we spent Saturday night in scenic Chamberlain, SD after driving through a crazy lightening storm. Yesterday we stopped at Wall Drug before driving past Mt. Rushmore and Crazy Horse National Monuments, a bit of northeastern Wyoming, and then finally into Montana. We spent the night in the town of Livingston, MT - gateway to the north entrance of Yellowstone National Park - and had breakfast this morning at a restaurant we ate at 4 years ago when moving to Wisconsin (although neither of us had remembered being in Livingston before entering the restaurant).

Just when you think you're out, they pull you back in

2009-08-15T16:20:00.000+01:00

Actually getting on the road took a bit longer than planned. A few things we learned:

1. Do not underestimate the enormous amount of time it takes to paint the exterior of a house. Especially when you're about to embark on a World Tour and have not packed any of your belongings in your house.

Fortunately, we have awesome friends and family who helped us get our s**t together and get on the road on Friday August 14, 2009 as planned.

2. People and pets deal with packing and moving differently. As you can see from these pictures, neither Basil or Phinneas were of much help: Basil hid among the packed goods in the basement while Phinney lounged on his favorite stair.

3. Just when you think you're out, they pull you back in. Forgetting things at home is inevitable, and if you choose to return to get them you may find you have driven 120 miles and are still in your driveway in Madison. Fortunately the Comfort Inn in DeForest, WI will likely have a room available at 10pm on a Friday for a reasonable price. (Note: this picture is us leaving Madison the first time.)

Miles traveled: 137 miles
Miles from home: 17
Next stop: South Dakota?

Simlieb World Tour 2009

2009-08-15T16:17:00.000+01:00

We're off - in the next 9 months we'll be traveling around the world!

We'll begin by driving west from our beloved home in Madison through the Rockies on our way to Alaska. After we hike about for a while we'll take a ferry to Vancouver Island, BC and briefly visit in Seattle and the Big O before we head to the Big Island, Hawaii in early October. Rich will then take a side trip to scenic Tulsa, OK to be a veterinarian at a conference for a week before the world touring truly begins.

Detailed plans are still in the works, but as of now we're planning to visit southern Africa from about Nov - Jan, southeast Asia from Feb - March, with a grande finale in Australia and New Zealand before returning home in May.

We'll post as often as we can (and are inspired) and hope you'll enjoy hearing about our travels.