Most of Peru

We´ve been travelling pretty quickly trying to complete our loop around Southern Peru and it just occurred to me that I haven´t actually written anything for several weeks. From our camp in the jungle we took a boat, a bus, a plane, a taxi, a bus, and another taxi to Puno, which is on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the world´s highest navegable lake. The border with Bolivia passes through the lake and apparently the Bolivian side is pretty neat but it costs mucho dinero to get into Bolivia so we stayed in Peru. Apparently five days down in the jungle cost us our acclimatization and so the 7 hour bus ride uphill from Cusco was demoralizing. We could scarcely think straight whne we got in so we spent most of the next day remembering how to breathe. We decided to take a two day tour of the lake starting with the Uros Floating Islands. The islands are actually rafts made from reeds in the lake. Each one is home to 5-10 families and lasts for 40 years. Originally the Uros people took to the lake fleeing the Inca and lived on fish and foul from the lake but now they mostly live on tourist dollars because exotic species are leading to the collapse of lake fishing. The families on each island work together and defer to the president of the island. If there is some dispute, they simply cut the island in half and shove them apart.
Later we went to another island a real one that can´t be moved around. We stayed with a local family for the night, Gregorio and Andrea. They speak Quechua at home but Gregorio knows a little Spanish so we could communicate somewhat. Andrea cooked our meals in an adobe stove with a woodfire in the kitchen, which made things rather smoky. At night they dressed us in traditional clothes and we went to a dance with the rest of our tour group. Andrea showed me the steps but she kept trying to spin me and since she´s only about 5 feet tall it didn´t come off well.
From Puno we took a late bus to Arequipa, which is on the dry west face of the Andes underneath a couple of very large volcanoes that haven´t destroyed the city since 1979 or so. The city itself is very beautiful and we got to visit an old convent that seemed rather cheery except for the statues of Christ on the Cross and Our Lady of Misery everywhere. From there we went up to the Colca Canyon and saw a totally bewildering number of terraces, and a condor that couldn´t have been more than 5 miles away. We also ran into what seemed like every other tourist we had met so far. They call it the Gringo Trail and I guess there´s a reason. We went back to Arequipa, headed down to the pacific to visit the ¨poor man´s Galapagos¨ where we saw a completely unfathomable number of birds(including some lost-looking penguins) and some lazy sea lions. The town we stayed in, Pisco, was hit by a level 8 earthquake in 2007 and none of the roads had been resurfaced which gave it an eerie feeling.
In Lima we mostly just hung out at the hostel with some people we met there, although we did manage to do some salsa dancing. Now we are in Santiago, Chile, staying with my friend Carolina. So far the city seems very nice, and is framed by snowy peaks. This morning we saw a large parade or demonstration which was very interesting, though mostly lost on us. Someone was demanding justice, self-determination, and territory, but we couldn´t be sure who or from whom it was being demanded. Nor could we determine whether they were also demanding socialism and anarchy or whether these were separate groups. There was also a feminist contigent whose flyers admitted that although this wasn´t really a feminist issue as such they didn´t want to feel left out.

Peru photos.

Some photos. Left the memory card from the first half in my hotel room. I can´t flip the last one but I still like it.

Island children in traditional dress.

Amantani Island in Lake Titicaca.

Our tour group beat our guides in a football match at 3900 meters above sea level.

The Uros floating islands are large rafts constructed from reeds where people live most of their lives.

Before the rains on the Altiplano.

Boat ride along the lower Rio Madre de Dios.

Tarzan.

¡El Peru!

I´ve been in Peru a week and a half so far and this is first chance to sit down with my blog because we´ve mostly been in one wilderness or another. After a number of mechanical problems my folks and I managed to get into our hotel in Lima at 1 am, which luckily was just when the party was getting started at the bar around the corner. We managed to stagger onto our plane for Cusco and spent most of a day laying around wondering where they keep the air. The next morning we left for our 4 day hike of the Inca trail to Macchu Picchu. We were in a small group, Sharada, myself, mom and dad and 5 Argentinians who spoke varying levels of english. Mom and Dad had decided to go first class and hire porters to carry all of our gear for us in addition to tents and a whole portable kitchen and dining room complete with chairs and a table where they served lovely 4 course meals. It was a bit old-empire and Dad kept calling me bwana, but we were definitely secretly thanking god that we didn´t have to carry our own bags once we got up relatively high.
According to the Incas apparently Macchu Picchu and the passes we hiked over(13,880 ft) are in the lower-middle region of altitude, but it seemed pretty rarefied to us. I thought that at those alitudes we would be watching llamas frolic in the snow, but I had forgotten that we were subtropical and actually we saw a lot of corn and bromeliads on the way up and came down through the cloud forest. The second day is usually the hardest, crossing the first and highest pass, but I followed my guide´s instructions and chewed plenty of coca and felt like whistling the whole time. Obviously that would have required oxygen, but it was the thought that counted. Possibly due to altitude or a very cold shower, or bad chocolate I felt very sick most of the next day and could not eat until the late evening. Somehow I shambled 16 km to camp. We passed mostly through jungles that I tried to remind myself were very beautiful, but mostly I was thinking how nice it would be to lay down. I felt much better after that and was able to really enjoy our walk down through the cloud forest to Macchu Picchu, which although very short on llamas and snow was very beautiful with large number of bromeliads and orchids growing on every available surface. Unfortunately it was a bit heavy on the clouds, and the rain, and the fog. We missed the agency-poster view from the sun gate because of the weather, but just as our guide more-or-less predicted, the clouds opened just as we arrived outside the site and we were treated to a theatrical view of Macchu Picchu through the mist. The terraces also had a few scattered llamas grazing just to make up for all that cloud forest. They were probably city llamas paid to act like incan ones but we could hardly tell the difference.
Probably the most amazing thing about Macchu Picchu is that it was lost. No one knew about it for years and years, because, and this may be more amazing, it was abandoned. In terms of the amount of man-hours committed this place ranks with anything we´ve seen except the pyramids, but they never quite bothered to finish it and they left the hundreds of houses and acres of farmland bitterly carved out of the jungle and the rocks totally empty. I´m sure they had a good reason but they don´t seem to have mentioned it to anyone at the time. Probably just said they were going out for a pack of smokes.
After we got back to Cuzco I mostly needed to rest and complete the incredibly complex process of booking our stay in the jungle. After 5 or so visits to the rather fly-by-night travel agent (whom we had selected on the basis that he was open on sundays and didn´t bother shave) we finally received some concrete evidence that we would not simply be left on the dock at Puerto Maldonado on arrival like a bunch of bananas awaiting shipment. In fact we arrived at a grandiose camp surrounded by alien-looking tropical flowers and eccentric tropical birds who had taken up employment there. It was rather like being at camp again except that the older guests made no attemtps to haze us. We were rousted from our beds each more at an hour dictated by the arcane calculations of the camp manager and escorted on a wilderness adventure of some sort before being brought back to the cafeteria where we were organized by table so that they could keep track of us. For the first two days we were attached along with a dutch couple to a large group of polish people who spoke neither english nor spanish making them the only people in the entire place we could not communicate with. Despite their lack of understanding they were sure to crowd around our guide at all times to soak up his wisdom(delivered in english), which they were unable to pass along. Still, the jungle was very exciting and we saw lots of animals that were very difficult to believe. I would say offhand that the average tree in the Amazon has more species living on it that the state of New Mexico. I felt that I had to move briskly to prevent myself from becoming equally encumbered with lichens, vines, mushrooms, lianas, parasitic trees and bird´s nests. Overall it was very nice, and spending four days in the same place seems to have allowed me to fully regain my health before we head into the high plains and Lake Titicaca.

Welcome to Jordan!

Every single person I've met since coming to Amman has said "Welcome to Jordan." People holler it at me as I walk by on the street. I suppose they are just very friendly, but it's starting to seem like some sort of vast conspiracy. Maybe I just have a sign on my back that says "Welcome Me."

We spent a few more days in Egypt around Dahab. We decide to climb Mt. Sinai for sunrise, which meant that we left at 11 pm and stumbled up the mountain rather than sleeping. It was surprisingly hot despite the altitude and almost total darkness. The trail ran through a camel holding area(for tourists too smart to walk up) in the moonlight and it was kind of surreal to be surrounded by an unknown number of mostly very sleepy camels. In fact the whole experience took on a kind of drugged feeling. Maybe I just wasn't drinking enough water. In fact I know I wasn't because when we got to the top, I was soaking wet from the effort and it became surprisingly cold. We had to rent a blanket that looked like it had been stolen from one of the camels to see us through until dawn. We were awakened by a choir of people with mostly Castillian accents singing in Hebrew "Shima Israel . . ." which made sense given the location. It felt very old testament and I was happy to discover that I would not have to carry any stone tablets down to the bottom. It made less sense when we discoverd that the choir was actually a group of Catholic seminarians, but the music was nice at least.

We did a jot more snorkelling and finished most of our winnings at the pub, although we did leave with 6 liters of drinking water, and headed towards Jordan. It took only 10 hours longer than expected. The bus ride was 90 minutes as advertised, and the ferry took only 3 hours instead of 2, however there was the small matter of the 5 hour wait before the ferry and the 2 hours after it arrived. If that doesn't add up, you more or less understand how we felt during the 12 hour, 120 mile journey. On top of it, I dropped 10 Dinar($15) on the ground getting out of the cab and our driver skillfully made it disappear.

Jordan has been more expensive than anticipated, but mostly worth it. Petra, which I had never heard of before planning this trip has been totally fantastic. The verse, which we see EVERYWHERE runs "The rose-red city half as old as time." In fact the city is only about 1900-2100 years old, which on this trip just qualifies it as oldish. However it looks incredibly ancient on account of being carved from soft sandstone. I was thinking I would like to see a convincing TV recreation of the place at it's heyday, but upon further consideration I've decided that it can't be done. I scarcely believe the real version. Rose-red also give the rocks short-shrift. They are mostly red but swirled with psychedelic tiger stripes of orange, brown and yellow. I continually found myself having to touch them to believe that they weren't painted on, but they are not.
Unfortunately the ancient Nabateans did not build any escalators, or if they did they have been lost to the ages. Consequently we had to do a rather ludicrous amount of hiking to see it all and I have gotten leg cramps that make me feel half as old as time myself(I'll be 25 this week after all). I also took a rather ludicrous amount of pictures, none of which will see the light of day until I get my camera cable from home.

More Egypt

Keep getting further behind, for some reason. I still haven't gotten up to the current time of my first entry. After Abu Simbel we spent the better part of the day sleeping because we had to get up at 3am for it, and then we took a cruise down the Nile to Luxor. My original plan had been to take a felucca, which is more or less the aquatic equivalent of a VW van, but with fewer amenities, but my companions prevailed upon to see reason and we took a cruise ship, which I had never done before. There was no shuffleboard, unfortunately, but we did have an ondeck pool, which was good considering that it is generally unsafe to swim in the river on account of "Snail Fever" which is even less fun than it sounds like.

With the exception of three other people, no one on the boat spoke English, so we were seated at the English only table, where they did their best to keep us comfortable. We met a very interesting Ethiopian lady who was on R&R from the UN in Sudan, and a Norwegian girl travelling with her grandmother. The grandmother was at the English table mostly because there wasn't a Norwegian table. The banks of the Nile were much lusher than I had imagined, and there's few better ways to see them than from a nice cool swimming pool. We also got to see some amazing temples along the way, including Kom Ombo at night, when it was lit up like the set for an opera(which thankfully failed to occur). The guard insisted that I take a photo of the forbidden mummy which no one is allowed to see unless they have three pounds to give him and his boss is on break.

We got to Luxor after two days. Actual sailing time was about 6 hours, but that would have cut into the buffet, so they stretch it out a bit. Luxor has an overwhelming concentration of sites, and we did our best not to see more than we could appreciate, but I still may have sprained my sense of historical perspective and wonderment. It helped that it was 114 degrees most days. The valley of the kings was amazing. One of the tombs still had all the original paint, which frankly, makes the whole affair a lot cheerier. I'd like to see a temple restored to full technicolor glory. Just one, they've got thousands. Unfortunately, the sheer number of people, even at this offest of seasons, who are willing to sweat their way up and down the stairs to the tombs means that the atmosphere inside is just beyond lockerroom and well on its way to sauna. I'm sure this isn't good for the paitings, so most of the tombs are closed. Also notable was the Karnak temple, which is apparently the biggest temple, anywhere, ever. The columns are huge and decorated with a bewildering array of people with silly heads and/or silly things on their heads. That was a big deal for the ancient Egyptians, I guess. When we occassionally splurge on a guide, they attempt to explain the deep significance of these heads, but I usually get distracted by minutiae like the fact that everyone keeps marrying their siblings, and then marrying their offspring to other siblings. At some point they started carving their names really deep so that their horribly adjusted son/nephew/husband wouldn't erase it when they died. That's most of what I got out of the carvings, which are quite beautiful and much more interesting than Jesus over and over again.

From Luxor we took the bus to Hurghada, which was another clothes-on sauna experience. I'm not sure how these women can wear a head scarf--I keep having serious doubts about the wisdom of wearing pants. Hurghada is a gaudy tourist town on the Red Sea, which is, as the guide book informed us, totally swarming with sunburnt Russians. I don't think anyone can enjoy a good sunburn the way Russians can. I know I can't, but I gave it a try when we went snorkelling. The contrast between the unbelievably barren land and the teeming reefs of the Red Sea boggles the mind. On our ride to Hurghada(6 hours) we saw at most 12 plants and animals. In 30 seconds snorkelling, we saw at least that many species, if not many more. Unfortunately the sunburn was quite bad and I had to spend most of the next day in the room wondering just what had made me remove my shirt in the first place(it was the devil) and whether I would ever be able to use a chair again(any day now).

Cheryl left us in Hurghada and we headed across the sea to Sinai. Since Moses wasn't with us we had to take the ferry, which was rough, but probably faster than walking in any case. Then we took a taxi and a bus and another taxi just for good measure to Dahab, which is consistently described as a backpacker's paradise. The Lonely Planet was a bit bored with it, and to be fair, we're not exactly encountering another culture here. In fact, everyone is exactly like us. But the other fact is that it is just a very nice place, with beautiful waters and teeming reefs(spitting distance from the bar) and a great view of Saudi Arabia, which looks just fine from a distance. We even played the pub quiz last night--in which we dominated the less experienced to win 100 pounds of free drinks that we have, so far, been unable to finish.

Some pictures--I only have the cable for my phone camera, so the selection is a bit random.

The girls appreciate the Cairo Art Scene.

The copts have weathered the tests of time with their dignity intact.

I see the light.

Nubian Village.

Felucca on the Nile at Aswan.

Mosque in Luxor. All of the surrounding structures were razed for some reason.

Columns at Karnak.

We've been a bit busy and the internet has been a bit slow, so I've already been here over a week. Egypt is hot in the summer. I knew that, but somehow the actuality of it never really sunk. I've been hot before, and it sucks. Okay. The discomfort really hasn't been so bad. But the sheer effort involved in keeping body and soul together while wandering around outdoors in 105 degree weather never really occurred to me. And to top it off the Pharoahs had the lack of consideration to build all of their monuments outdoors, without any shade. We've been drinking what seems like 30 bottles of water a day, but somehow it's never enought. I swear they sell them to us with big holes in the bottom and our heat-curdled brains aren't able to notice.
Otherwise, things have been lovely. The heat means that a lot of the attractions are nearly empty, especially early in morning before the package tours can stumble out of their hotels. We try to see as much as we can before we have to retreat to somewhere dark with cold beverages. The pyramids are really impressive. Nothing I build is going to last 3000 years. I built a rack for the VCR that has lasted almost three, but I'm not hoping for much more, really. At the same time, I have to say, I'm much more impressed with the temples. They show some aesthetic judgement at least as opposed to just building the largest possible pile of stone on the backs of thousands of laborers. The pyramids seem like pre-modern brutalist architecture.
The mosques have also been quite impressive. Mostly the girls have not had to wear head scarves even there, although almost(but not quite) all of the women on the street wear them. They're an essential part of every outfit it seems, and many of them are quite stylish. We also saw a woman in a burka which completely covered her face(quite uncommon) sporting gold-rimmed Dolce & Gabana sunglasses over it. We had a lovely tour of the Blue Mosque and adjoining palace all to ourselves. Our guide even let us into the work site, which he claimed he wasn't supposed to do. Apparently Obama and Mubarak opened it to the public during his recent visit and our guide new precisely where he had been and how long. "Obama, he sat here 11 MINUTES and he drank coffee!" The whole visit seems to have lasted either 18 or 25 minutes, but he's a busy fellow. Obama seems incredibly popular, especially among salespeople who are trying to win us over. Some people do seem to be generally very happy about him though. "Obama #1. Clinton, Good. Bush, no." They're also not fans of Bush the Elder, whom they call "Abu Bush" or "father of Bush."
Another thing I've learned is that I don't speak nearly as much Arabic as I thought. I can say a lot of lovely impressive phrases like "I dislike Cairo due to the humidity and overcrowding." and "I sometimes have feelings of loneliness." But when it comes to asking when lunch is, I'm out of luck. Or counting above 100. Also the dialect is taking some getting used to. Luckily almost everyone speaks some English. Mostly they employ the language to tell that(since I'm travelling with two women) I am a very lucky man to have two wives. At first I thought they were joking, but it's becoming harder to believe. The jeweller assured me that although I might say they were my friends, they were surely my wives.
After 4 days in Cairo we took the night train down to Aswan, which used to be just below the first cataract, until the falls were removed. Being far south, it is much hotter, but not nearly so humid. Mostly this means that we don't notice how much we're sweating until we start getting dizzy. The city is right on the river, which is full of traditional sailboats which tack picturesquesly across the water in front of palm trees. The captains of these boats would be happy to take you for a ride. In fact they insist. Good price though, Egyptian price. Our hotel was fairly nice, if noisy and had an adorable pool with a decent view of the island and the minarets of the city(outnumbered only by cell towers. I suppose there must be some kind of moratorium on putting cell receptors on the minarets, but I think it's a brilliant plan.
From Aswan we went even further south through the totally barren Sahara to Abu Simbel, which happens be on the shores of the world's largest manmade lake in the middle of the world's largest (arguably) manmade desert. The temple has been moved uphill 200 ft to prevent it being submerged. Unfortunately it has to be visited as part of a police convoy(to make us feel safer, which it does not) and means that it's incredibly crowded as everyone who wants to see it has to do so between 7:30 and 9 am each day. Time running out, more later. Eventually.

Africa Wrap-Up

When we last saw our intrepid hero he was in Gaborone, Botswana waiting for the rain to clear. Obviously that was some time ago. The storm did finally pass in time for one nice afternoon in Gaborone. We visited a village nearby which has an interesting museum covering the history of the village in incredible detail. We mostly went because it was essentially free, but the attendant stood next to the donation box and gave me dirty looks, so I had to leave my smallest bill, which was supposed to buy me breakfast the following day. We met up with Sean and his classmates that night for drinks and dancing, which actually started at 10 p.m. as advertised. At 9:59 the patio cleared out and by 10:01 the floor was packed. Unfortunately the idea of a night club opening when it says it will open was lost on our American colleagues who arrived at an appropriate 11:30. Frankly it never would have occurred to me, but we were already there for dinner.

The drive back to Joberg was mostly uneventful except for one thing. Why do guinea hens cross the road? Apparently in order to steal license plates. One stumbled out in front of my car at 120 km/h and not being terribly familiar with the local fauna, I could only hope it would fly off. It didn't and I ended up hitting it square. The noise woke Sharada up, thinking we had lost a muffler. As it turned out, we had lost the license plate from the front of the car, which we noticed just 200 km later just before a Traffic Control Officer waved us to the shoulder to ask about it. She let us off with a warning instead of an R600 fine. I promise not to do it again.

We mostly just hung around the hostel in Joberg, but we got some good intelligence about the financial situation in Zimbabwe, which resulted in our bringing just barely enough US Dollars instead of almost none. We were also given a pair of glasses and a letter to deliver to various people in Victoria Falls, which hopefully worked off some one my karmic debt for the return of my camera equipment.

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe is a clean and welcoming tourist town that offers a wide range of accomodation, none of which is more than 5% full at the moment. Sharada and I slept in a 15-bed dorm all alone. Someone told us that there is some law in place to prevent any hotel booking more than 10% occupancy(in order to spread the small number of visitors evenly) but I'm not sure if that's true. We stopped at The Castle resort, hotel and casino because it seemed to have only restaurant on the side of town with power one night(there's a rotation system of scheduled black outs). It would have been more at home in Vegas except for the warthogs fighting on the lawn. The main floor of the casino was lit up with flashing lights beckoning to gamblers, but was completely silent and empty except for 4 black jack dealers all sitting at the same table chatting quietly to each other. We opted to eat in the dark at the hostel instead because it was less eerie.

The falls are mind-blowingly amazing, especially for a desert rat like me. According the info at the park during peak flow(which I think we were fairly close to) 550,000 cubic meters of water pass over the falls EVERY SECOND. This is 145 million gallons, or roughly the amount of water that Albuquerque uses in a day, which means it takes a whole 6 minutes for a year's worth. The falls are formed when the Zambezi river spills into a gorge. Above the falls it forms a large wetland area, so when it hits the gorge it is over a mile wide. More or less as though the Mississipi river suddenly fell into the Grand Canyon. The Zambezi Gorge is not as deep as the Grand Canyon, but it's almost impossible to tell as the cloud of mist generated not only prevent the bottom of the falls from being seen but also extends a further 500 ft above the rim of the gorge and can be seen from 20 miles away. This is a lot of numbers, but it's difficult to describe the falls without them. They are simply so huge and powerful that the human mind can't really grasp them. The spray completely envelopes you in a way that makes it impossible to see more than a tiny portion at any one time unless you charter an aircraft. The falls form part of the border with Zambia, and the Zimbabwe side(across from the falls) supports a small rain forest in a relatively arid region just from the costant spray which completely soaked us.

We also went to Zambia for the afternoon, where you can get closer and see the top. The two are joined by a bridge which was designed in 1902 by a Brit who had never been to Africa, assembled in England and shipped in chunks to Zimbabwe. It seems to be holding up pretty well. I paid $105 dollars for the privelege of jumping off while connected to a large elastic band. This is the world's second highest bungi jump at 111 m(under a dollar a meter). This was terrifying and so exciting that my adrenal glands didn't shut down for almost two hours, making me panic about nothing for the rest of the afternoon. Also, it's hard to beat the view of the falls with a 300 degree upside-down rainbow that can probably only be achieved this way.

On the way back to the hostel from dinner some locals stopped us in the street which was a bit arresting as it was quite dark. As it turned out, they were merely trying to prevent us from wandering into the path of a group of five wild elephants that were crossing the road about 50 feet ahead of us. "We are scared of them. They are quite dangerous," the woman said. The elephants were on their way in a minute or so, as were we. Apparently the elephants usually take an evening constitutional in the area. In fact the cross street they had come from is named "Elephant Walk."

For whatever reason I scheduled a full two day in Joberg after Vic falls, which sadly was not enough time to leave. We got a bit cheated on our outing the first day(although this was conveniently no one's fault). Which put me in a sour mood, and made me that much less excited about the city. I just went on a long walk the second day and watched movies in the hostel. I was in a fairly nice part of town, and it wasn't unpleasant, but the place has got to be one of the least pedestrian-friendly cities on earth. Even many well developed areas lined with shops and coffee houses don't have sidewalks. This creates the paradoxical situation of extremely posh neighborhoods where one still does not feel safe on the streets. I don't think I'll be moving there any time soon. Also we were gridlocked on the freeway on the way to the airport for 90 minutes until our driver pulled a u-turn across the grassy ditch that separated the traffic. The van could barely make it up the opposite side in the loose soil but we somehow managed to merge into the passing lane. Otherwise I would almost certainly have missed my flight. The flight was not too bad, as far as 28 hour flights go. And I ran into my 7th grade humanities teacher in the Atlanta airport who was on his way back from Macchu Picchu and the Amazon. Small world. Really really small, provided you travel in a straight line at high speeds.

Africa Pictures

View near Nelspruit
















Swazi cultural dancing.















Rhino--Cape Vidal.





















Beach--Cape Vidal ~30 minutes later.





















Coy Hippo--St. Lucia Estuary
















The beer and the boat and awesomeness.





















Victoria falls--Zimbabwe
















Victoria Falls--Zambia





















Boldly forging ahead.















The quick way down.

Botswana

I'm glad to report that I did manage to recover all of my camera gear, including the memory card with most of my pictures on it. I left it all(except the camera) in the hostel in Maputo, but fortunately one of the other guests was able to meet us in Johannesburg with it. Sadly I left it in the hotel room today and you won't be able to see any of the pictures until my next post.
The foul weather has continued. We are assured by virtually everyone we meet that wet, dreary weather like this is unheard of in the month of June, but that doesn't do much in the way of assuaging our dampness and boredom. Turns out Africa isn't much an indoor tourist destination and rainy day options are limited. The one upshot is that I'll be able to catch up on my blog. The other bright spot is that we were able to meet up with my friend Sean(check out his blog here) whom I know from China. I was hoping he would be able to get us oriented, show us the capitol and so forth, but as it turns out we saw most of Gaborone while driving around looking for a pay phone to call him. The city is built, like many American cities, around a series of malls, some of which would look quite at home in Chandler or Rio Rancho. The rest of it is a confusing jumble of slightly curved streets and houses. Gaborone is crazy for cell phones, you can buy airtime in the post office, grocery store, petrol station and even half way through the border post. Despite this fact mine doesn't work for some reason. Perhaps they want me to buy airtime at the border.
This morning we visited the Naitonal Museum, which I thought was quite good. Not too fancy, no real awe-inspiring exhibits but the text was well written and displayed an admirable even-handedness notable lacking from say, the Smithsonian History. They also cover most aspects of Botswana's history geology and wildlife quite comprehensively with the one notable gap being that the history section ends abruptly at around 1910. Interesting fact : the Kalahari gets slightly more rain than Albuquerque.
Otherwise, a fair amount of time has been spent watching South African soap operas, which--when the chief's mutiple wives are taken into account--reach blistering levels of intrigue that our simple monogamonormative American minds are ill-equipped to understand. They are still quite entertaining though.

Update

This will have to be a quick post, but long overdo. No pictures because I have been temporarily separated from my camera cable. From Nelspruit, where we were introduced to the world of rugby with a Super 14 final crash course(cross-listed under drinking) we moved on to Mozambique. There was some uncertainty about whether we would be able to get the car and both of us across the border, but with the help of a friendly volunteer(who then demanded to be payed) we did it in just under an hour. The roads were not as bad as we had been lead to believe except for certain very short stretches. The stretch of highway just north of Maputo that serves as the city's bus station is an incredible tangle of traffic and people and commerce and it took an impressive amount of time to negotiate it.
Being the winter, it is rather the off season at the beaches of Mozambique. In fact literally no one else was there. The Indian Ocean is really quite warm, but the air was too chill to be comfortable with a stiff breeze. The beaches themselves were also quite lovely, but as the only tourists there was quite a bit of pressure from vendors of souvenirs. We decided to head to the capital a day early and see the sites, which we did. The national art museum was fascinating. All of the art was local, and none of it was more than about 30 years old(post independence). Most of it was also quite distrubing, which given the decade-or-so long civil war is very understandable. Unfortunately we missed almost half the exhibits because the power went out. The guide book instructed us to keep our passports at all times, which we did, luckily because a pair of police officers(with uzis!) casually demanded to see them as we were wandering the street. Someone later told us that they sometimes also demand money, but not from us. Other than that the people were quite friendly and very understanding(maybe forgiving is a better word) of the fact that Spanish and Portuguese are not nearly as similar as I had hoped. English speakers were few and far between so there was a fair amount of hand waving and drawing diagrams in the dirt. Not that Mozambique wasn't lovely, but we left early. We've been missing the food and music ever since.
We moved on to Swaziland, which looks a bit like New Mexico, but not quite so dry and more densely settled, with a network of small, mostly subsistence farms. We visited a reconstructed village from 100 years ago. Apparently the going rate for a bride--17 cows--hasn't changed since then. I'm glad I'm not Swazi for that reason any way. The valley we visited was beautiful and we also caught some traditional dancing, along with 100 Swazi high schoolers who made it much more engaging with their whistles and shouts. We were definitely missing some nuances of the dancing because seemingly unexciting parts of the dance drove them into a frenzy. Several of them ran onto the stage to leave change in front of their favorite dancers.
We returned to South Africa less than a week after leaving and headed for lovely St. Lucia where we took in some more wild life, most notably many many hippos(they may also have been hungry hungry) and a truly lovely beach at Cape Vidal(which probably offers one of the shortest Rhino to beachfront drives on earth). We headed north to see the Drakensberg mountains, but it has been raining so hard(and snowing even--I thought this was Africa) that we haven't caught a glimpse. Hopefully we'll catch a glimpse tomorrow as we head back to Joberg to (hopefully) retrieve some of my pictures that I left in Maputo, and then on to Botswana.

Africa

Well, it's been a while since my last post, but hopefully I've earned enough to pay for the current leg of my trip to Southern(mostly South) Africa. I actually got into Johannesburg ten days ago, but we've been away from decent internet for a while and I haven't gotten a good chance to post. Johannesburg was not quite as intimidating as I had been lead to believe. All of the "Armed Response" signs and barbed wire surrounding anything nice make you think that it must be the most secure city on Earth, but they tell me that's not the case. We stayed off the streets for the most part, only venturing out of the hostel to go for food and sightseeing(at secure locations). The Apartheid Museum is staggering. The determination of the Afrikaaners to maintain their way of life despite the enormous suffering it engendered is simply dumbfounding. It makes segregation in the U.S. look more like aloofness. We still haven't seen a lot of mixing between blacks and whites here beyond white owner/black staff, but I'm sure that it's not uncommon.

Our second day in Johannesburg we drove a bit out of the city to visit The Lion Park which is a kind of small wildlife park meant to simulate the game park experience for people who don't have a chance to leave the metro area. We wanted to make sure we actually saw some animals, lions especially. It was fun in a hokey kind of way. We got to pet some lion cubs, but they mostly just wanted to sleep. It felt a bit like an amusement park so we didn't take things qutie as seriously as we should have. In the lion enclosure, one of the lions--who are very habituated to people and cars--walked right up to our car. I could see it's pupil, which was cool. It then proceeded to open the passenger-side door using its mouth and tongue, which suddenly made the whole thing a bit more serious. Luckily Sharada was able to keep it from opening the door all the way and we drove out of the enclosure. The guard said "You must be careful, those lions are so playful sometimes."

After that we headed up north towards Kruger National Park for some time in a real game preserve. On the way we stopped in Makhado/Louis Trichardt(they change the name back and forth). We ended up staying at a B&B with a nice Afrikaner couple that was a bit out of our usual price range, but we had run out of other options in the guidebook. They were very helpful, going over the itinerary of our trip with a fine toothed comb. We went on a beautiful hike in the hills and saw some tropical forest and baboons. Their son and his family were visiting from Nelspruit, where we headed in a few days, and he has offered to let us stay for a while, which is where we are currently.

We moved on to the park, where we spent three days on a wilderness trail. We spent the nights in fenced in camp, to prevent the more dangerous wildlife from getting in. We weren't allowed outside the fence without one of our guides, who were very friendly and cheerful. They offered us the option to see beautiful scenery and somewhat less wildlife on a much harder hike, and since the guide, and other experienced park goers were for it, we went along as well. We still saw what seemed like quite a bit of game to me on the trail: a giraffe, two kinds of eagles, four kinds of antelope, dossies(which are somewhere between a cat and guinea pig but illegal to keep as pets) and probably something I'm forgetting. On the drive to the camp and the start of the hike we also saw hundreds of buffalo, dozens of zebra, several elephants, many more antelope, warthogs, bushbabies, monkies, baboons, and any number of birds.

One of our fellow trailgoers worked at a private game reserve/animal rehabilitation center on the road to Nelspruit, and he recommended we stay there, so we did. The guide book gave us horrible directions and we got quite lost and didn't get there until hours after dark, discovered that 'self-catered' meant 'bring your own pots and pans and can-opener', had some bread and cheese and went to bed. Our friend surprised us early the next morning saying he wanted to show us something, so we piled half-dressed into the jeep and he drove us into the reserve. We walked a bit through the bush and then he told to be very quite and pointed out a group of rhinos behind a nearby tree. We stayed still for what felt like hours because I am not used to crouching in a steathy manner and my legs were dying. Finally it stepped out of the trees, not more than fifteen feet away and he said "Take pictures." We did and then he yelled at it and waved his arms and the rhino scurried(if anything so large can scurry) into the bush again. "Don't they ever charge?" "Sometimes," and that was all he had to say about that.

Just then the clouds began to clear revealing what we hadn't been able to see the previous night--the spectacular mouth of the Blyde River Canyon. According to the guide book it is the third largest canyon in the word, after the Grand Canyon and another one in Namibia. It looks a bit like the Grand Canyon, vistas off to the horizon and preciptous cliffs, but the rocks are a bit different, more granite than sandstone and the area is much less arid so the side and floor of the canyon is covered in a dense semi-tropical forest. The other difference being that you can drive right in to the bottom of the canyon, which did, and the following day we drove along the rim down to Nelspruit, where Emile and Elane have been so kind as to put us up for a day or two until we head to Mozambique.

Hiking near Makhado/Louis Trichardt

On the trail in Kruger.

Sunset with Elephant, Kruger.

At the Moholoholo Animal Rehab Center. They get caught with drugs so young sometimes . . .

View from our Chalet in Moholoholo at the mouth of Blyde River.

View from "God's Window" near Blyde River

India Wrap Up

I guess I should finish off the India section of the blog, now that I've been home a week. When we last saw our intrepid heroes they were setting off from the hillstation of Munnar in the Western Ghats to the idyllic backwaters of Kerala. The bus ride was STEEP and winding, or at least I thought so. Our bus driver was largely unfazed and took every hairpin at the maximum possible speed. I had been under the impression that motion sickness could not be a fatal illness, but watching Sharada's face as it assumed various shades of green and purple made me think again. Eventually we did reach relatively flat ground, and some time after that a bus station. Somehow by wandering vaguely south we managed to catch the ferry for Allepey with approximately 3 seconds to spare.
The ferry ride was possibly my favorite part of the trip and at 10 Rs(20 cents) was definitely a bargain. We cruised along sleepy canals and lakes which were sometimes so full of flowering water plants that you literally could not see the water and it appeared as though we were sailing through a cloverfield in spring bloom. A cloverfield surrounded by palmtrees heavy with coconuts. They were also full of any number of birds, and--Sharada claimed--snakes. Also we got to see the most isolated rural landscapes of our trip as many of the houses and even farms along the route can only be reached by boat. Allepey--another contender for the "Venice of the East" title also claimed by Udaipur--was nothing particularly special. We left again in the morning for an all day cruise on a tourist boat to Kollam, where we also had no intention of staying. The tourist boat plied many similar canals, and while it was much more comfortable than the ferry, at 400 Rs it couldn't hope to compare on the cost/benefit scale. We saw any number of people dredging the canals, sometimes with a fanciful floating backhoe, but most with a canoe, a bucket and an impressive lung capacity. We also passed a plant where they apparently extract uranium from the black sand in the canals, sand in which I was to be covered for several days.





Upon arrival we immediately hopped in a cab with a tired-looking Indian couple and their two young children, for Varkala, which has one of the world's great beaches. Because our cabbie wasn't from Varkala he drove the lot of us around in circles for 40 minutes looking for our hotel and the Indians missed their train(I think) and had to stay there as well. I don't feel too bad because they stayed two days, as did we. We spent them being uber-tourists, lying in the sun, body surfing, and shopping for souvenirs. I had so much fun in the sun and salt water that I nearly collapsed from dehydration. I could hear Mom shaking her head and saying "too much fun."
We eventually made it Cochin via a second class train, which involved me sitting for 3 hours on the luggage rack above the seats. As luggage racks go, it was fairly comfortable. The only really uncomfortable part was when a food vendor spilled coconut chutney all over me and even worse, the dapper backpacker seated below me. By the time I had taken care of my personal chutney issues well enough to come down she had somehow managed to clean the chutney out of her lovely felt cap(with feather!) but I don't think she managed to forgive me.
Cochin was fairly nice, but frankly we were hot and oh-so-sweaty and tired and more concerned about our onward travel arrangements. Sharada and I split up--for the first time in two solid months--so that she could fly out of Mumbai, and I could fly out of Delhi. I was only on my own for about 2 days, but she has 11 before Pieter meets her in Thailand. It was strange, but I got used to it fairly quickly. I may have spent rather more time in the hotel room in Delhi than I would have if I had needed to justify my time to someone else.

Delhi was much more genial than our first visit, mostly because of Holi: the Festival of Colors, which I had forgotten about until a day or two before. Apparently it celebrates some Gods triumphing over other less righteous Gods and/or falling in love with each other, the accounts in the English papers varied somewhat. The point is that because of this momentous event from before time began every year on the 15th of Phalgun everyone goes out in the streets and tries to dye each other every possible color, which is incredibly entertaining. Think nationwide waterfight/paintball session. This is also the actual reason that it is celebrated, even by many non-Hindus, including me. At first I thought I might have missed the whole thing because by the time I made to breakfast I saw a lot of people, kids mostly, covered in dye, but no one dyeing each other. In fact this was more like the children of a certain age who absolutely cannot wait for Christmas, and sneak downstairs and open presents. Things didn't really pick up until noon. I decided that since I had more or less missed things, I would walk through Old Delhi to the Red Fort because we were so sad that it was closed last time. By the time I got there, a group of youngish men, who were quite drunk and/or stoned(certains types of marijuana are legal during the festival) had covered me head to foot in vegetable dye and tempura paint. Also a number of children had shot me with supersoakers full of dye and several young girls had hurled buckets of diluted dye onto me from roof tops. The upshot was that I looked like I had fallen into a spin-art machine.

At first I thought the fort was closed again, but in fact it was, like much of the city, just very empty because older people and women tend to stay indoors all day. It seemed to be a popular spot for non-participants, such as large muslim and sikh families, all of whom were well dressed and not at all covered in dye. You could say I stuck out a little. In fact muffled laughter(and uncontainable guffaws) seemed to follow me throughout the fort as well as calls of "Merry Holi". I got even more dyed on the way back to the hotel. After 4 showers and intense scrubbing my forehead was still a merry magenta hue while my back was a sickly teal. Luckily this did not present any issues when I had to board my plane that evening.

















Signing off for now, Eric.

49,000 Hectares of Tea.

Our mad dash across the south, from coast to coast continues. We've been moving on every day or, not so much because we dislike places, but because we run out of things to do. As unemployed people with no connections who don't really speak the language most cities offer a limited number of interesting activities, and the ones which have a broader selection are inevitably so touristy we can't afford to do most of them. We spent the better part of two days in Pondicherry, mostly waiting for it cool off, or for a bus. The humidity just drains the life right out of you. We've stopped asking at the hotels about hot water, partly because they always lie, and partly because we come back from the day soaked already. Pondicherry(Pondi) was a French colony until recently and still feels kind of French. The same way I can kind of speak French by speaking Spanish with an accent. The streets are laid out mostly on a grid and people seem to obey traffic cops, and there's sewers. And of course the occasional technicolor Hindu temple with a real live elephant inside(no pictures please), just like Paris. I got a sandwich on a baguette and fell in love with France all over again.

From there onto Madurai which has the most fantastic temple I've never seen. It has huge towers covered with a riot of brightly painted Hindu sculpture, which were completely covered with scaffolding, and palmfronds just to make sure that you really couldn't see any part of it. The inside is huge, and has long collonades with intricate carvings and bright paintings and again an elephant(camera died). It was very keep there and we ate a lot of dosas and uttapam(oothapan?utthapham? everyone spelled it differently), which are essentially Sharada's favorite foods. Then we had a nice bus ride through the plains and mountains where they seem to grow most of the world's spices and coconuts up to Periyar wildlife sanctuary. Didn't see much wildlife(one huge bison(guar, much better name), but the jungle was fantastic. Met some nice tourists on a much larger budget than us(they took a taxi 200 miles!) and saw some crazy Keralan dancing. From there we got(eventuallly) to Munnar, which is even higher in the mountains and grows tea, tea, and more tea. It's much cooler and drier here, and there's lot's to see, but again, we can only afford so much of it. It's very beautiful, and it looks like Switzerland, I think. In fact there is an Indo-Swiss dairy. Swiss cows look very buttoned-down compared to their anything goes Indian counterparts. The town is surrounded by 49,000 hectares of tea plantations which is probably a lot(I think we skipped hectares in the metric unit at school) all of which are owned by the Tata corporation, which is the biggest company you've never heard of, the make steel, autos, luggage, and lots and lots of tea, which is very picturesque when it's growing. My time is nearly up and I'm trying to cram as much in without killing myself as I can before leaving. Moving on again tomorrow, down to the seaside, which is meant to be fantastic, and then, back to Delhi and then back to the U.S. Crazy.

Trains, Planes, and Automobiles.

Everyone we've met in Nepal has been extremely helpful, with the exception of our driver. We booked seats in a jeep(along with 10 other people, but we rode shotgun) from Kathmandu to the Indian Frontier. We went on tiny one-lane(one and a half maybe) roads through the mountains, and saw some beautiful countryside. We stopped in a nothing town about 25 miles from the border, and the driver, who didn't really speak any English just unloaded everyone's bags and took off without a word to anyone that I could see. Apparently a general strike had been called all across the lowland provinces(apparently some rather tense negotiations are taking place regarding the new constitution, prime minister, etc.). No motorized traffic would be allowed on the roads. Luckily one of our fellow travellers spoke a bit of English and attempted to explain it to us. She also hired a horse cart to take the three of us across the border. The only motor traffic we saw were a number of ambulances headed the other way. "Is it dangerous?" we asked. She said "Oh yes." and laughed. Actually we didn't see any strikers and our driver took a secret back route to avoid roadblocks. When we eventually found the immigration official in India he thought the whole thing was quite humourous. He also informed Sharada and me that by the time we got back, we would probably be married. "Travel 5-10 years, then you married. This is not allowed in my country." This sounded rather menacing given that it really was his country to let us in or not. He extracted a $2 bribe, possibly on accident.

The hotel on the border was fetid and Sharada received a mind boggling number of mosquito bites, which at least turned out not to be harbingers of dengue fever or leprosy. She also discovered someone had gone through her bag while on the roof of the jeep and removed some money, some clothes and her phone. It's been a rough few weeks for her. She must have looked crosseyed at a cow or turned away Lord Vishnu disguised as a beggar.

One short 20 hour train ride later we were in Calcutta(Kolkatta), which was not at all how Mother Theresa had lead me to believe. I'm sure there are some desperately poor people there, and it's rather dirty, but this is India. Compared to Dehli it sparkles. No doubt the British had something to do with this, but they've not kept up with the cleaning. It feels rather like a European city that has suffered a sudden loss of economic activity and civic government(although people do stop at stop lights almost all the time--imagine). We spent most of the time looking at gardens and totally out of place british building and eating Bengali food. On to Madras, well actually Mamallapuram(that's the shorter, modern name) instead. We got in to Madras so early that we had nothing to do but go to the bus station, so we basically
skipped the 4th largest city in India. India is better in small doses, I think. We're on the beach and there's a lot of palm trees and stucco and stray dogs and it feels a bit like Mexico, but with more giant stone monoliths of Shiva and Vishnu.

Photos

Finally I may have a chance for some photos.

Obligatory Taj Mahal photo.

I think there may be something behind me.

Fun at Fatehpur.

Benares by night.

Sharada spots a rhino at Chitwan

Elephants in the mist.

Himalaya off the right wing. Everest is the one you can't see behind the clouds.

Cotton candy vendor at Katmandu's Durbar square.

Explosion of prayer flags at Swayambhunath.

Countryside near Kathmandu.

I'm at the TAJ! And everywhere.

I guess it's been quite a while since I posted anything. I'm sure there is a reason for this. Sadly I'm not equipped to post pictures just now. The city of Agra is probably the craziest in terms of traffic and touts and beggars so far, also really dirty and polluted. The Taj Mahal is theoretically surround by a "no pollution zone" where motorized traffic and so forth are not allowed, but the brick walls surrounding the zone are not high enough to keep out monkeys, let alone smog. It is quite an amazing building, but it is quite raucous for a masoleum. I would estimate that there were between 2000 and 5000 people there while we were visiting, mostly Indians(who get in for 10% the price we paid). The gardens are nice though, and most people don't stray into them. We also saw Fateh Sikri, an abandoned Mughal capital, which I thought was fantastic(pictures later).

We moved on to Varanasi which has a reputation for being hectic, but we were all feeling a bit rundown and didn't venture out too much, so it seemed very peaceful. Some at the next table at lunch remarked that it's "very holy--in a religious sense" which I suppose is true. On the river just below our hotel they cremate people in large pyres. This is supposed to guarantee a particularly auspicious rebirth. We took a boat trip down the river at night and saw some interesting Hindu ceremonies, the light was beautiful and we were mobbed by mayflies, which made me think maybe I need to arrange an auspiciuos rebirth. The river is very sacred and many people come to bathe in it here. Apparently the priests have to drink the water everyday, and since it's already run through over 1000 miles of Indian countryside, they are sick most of the time.

From Varanasi it's been a hard two days on local Indian busses, which stop every 1-5 km and take on more people. After about 20 km it seems impossible that more people can be taken on, but they are continually. The amount of baggage we're carrying did not make us any friends, because there is no stowage and we take up the same room as a family of 6. The bus on the Nepali side of the border was more roomy and could carry bags on the roof, but still became quite crowded. Our last bus was so crowded when we got on that we had to ride on the roof for about 30 km, which was an exciting experience. Finally, a short 38 hours after leaving Varanasi we arrived at our hotel in Chitwan National Park(Nepal). This is a journey of almost 250 miles, I reckon we made pretty good time.

Contrary to what we might have supposed it is quite hot here, and in fact the park is mostly Jungle. This morning we went on an elephant back Safari. We were hoping to see a tiger, but maybe we will have better luck tomorrow. We did see two rhinos, which was quite exciting. The jungle was beautiful in the early morning mist, but perhaps not ideal for wildlife viewing. The mahout(elephant driver) seemed determined to make his own way, and while the other elephants tread daintily along established trails, we crashed through the jungle crushing underbrush and occasionally whole tree up to 20 ft tall. Perhaps he was engaging in some kind of arcane silviculture or maybe he was just grumpy, but he would occasionally goad the elephant into thickets when there was a clear way ahead or cause it to trample and tear down trees which were not in our way. It was exciting to say the least. We still have this afternoon and tomorrow in the park, and I'm hoping we'll see a tiger, or at least some marsh muggers(related to crocodiles). After that, onto Kathmandu to complete our lightning tour of Nepal. I wish we had scheduled more time for Nepal, but we have tickets booked to head to Madras. Some day I shall have to come back when I have time to trek.

Udaipur

We've been moving around quite a bite lately, but we decided to take it easy with 3 1/2 days in Udaipur. The city is lovely, it has a hilly, Mediterranean feel to it, and it sits on a lake with two beautiful palaces in it the middle. The lake is higher than it has been in years, but unfortunately most of it is still not navigable and our hopes for leisurely boat rides have been dashed. However, the beautiful view from the cafe in our hotel is in on way compromised. Before Udaipur we had a day(almost) in Jodhpur, where there is a huge, apparently impregnable fort filled with an intricately latticed palace. You might recognize it from a number of films, including "The Fall" by Tarsim, where I saw and said, I'm going there. City that surrounds it is painted blue partly because of Brahmins and partly because of termites and mostly because it keeps things relatively cool. It was also my computer desktop in the months leading up to the trip, which I've tried to duplicate here. Jodhpur was actually the one place we sprang for the audio tour, so most of the antiquities and Historically Significant Sites have been somewhat bemusing. Anyone who is willing to answer our questions tends to have very limited responses to offer. Why is this city abandoned? Religion Troubles. Is that painting a hippo? It's very stylized. Why do they wear such outlandish moustaches? No reply. I must admit I am experiencing Cultural Heritage fatigue. Time to hop back on the train, and head out to Uttar Pradesh. I wish I had some pictures from our various bus rides through the country, because the scenery there has been some of the more interesting we've seen, but my tiny camera is simply not fast enough to capture the scenery as it whizzes by at what seems like 100 miles an hour and about 3 inches from our faces.