OK, so I lied below when I said that it was my final blog (see below). I realized that there was just one more thing I needed to add to this. So many people have asked me what my favorite things were about the trip, well, I’ll try to give you my top 10, although pretty much everything was fantastic in its own way, even the bad days, of which, I am thankful, there were very few.
So here it goes and in no specific order:
Gorillas within five feet of me walking about
Balloon ride over the Masai Mara with the wildebeest migration
Canoe trip on the Zambezi with all of the elephants walking through our lunch
The trek in Nepal in the Himalayas
The leopard walking about, climbing the tree and then continuing lunch
Ellora and Ajanta caves in India
Marrakech and all the crazy colors and sounds of that amazing city
The nine lions feasting on the Zebra followed by the entire animal kingdom congregating at the watering hole in Etosha National Park
Swimming with a whale shark in Mozambique
Sunrise at the dunes in Namibia
Right then, so there are so many other things that are now popping into my head that were just awesome…maybe I should just say the entire trip was fantastic and I would do it all over again in a second (maybe I would go for even longer)! Now, sitting here in the US, I am missing many things and thinking fondly of so much that I was able to experience. I miss all the crazy people I met along the road and small things like the anise seed/candy mix that came after meals in India and was the closest thing to eating licorice that I had experienced in months. The fantastic foods - the Tibetan Thupka soup, Tajines followed by “seasonal fruit”, momos, olives galore, those sticky sweet fried, honey soaked cookies, those amazing coconut cookies the kids in Marrakech sold on the streets, mango lassis and fruit/curd/yogurt.
When again will I say that I actually like porridge/oatmeal? I tried it again here and well, it is just not the same. I think I may have to take back my much earlier comment on how great it was, or maybe I will get lucky and figure out how it is done and be able to make my own. God knows the Moroccan tea I brought back tasted nothing like it did there when I had it. I think I actually even miss my Thermarest and the silky soft interior of my sleeping bag – even Enrique, my tent, holds a tender spot in my heart. I definitely miss the “Don’t Wait!” cry of Charles the cook on the overland truck when each meal was ready.
I worry too, that all those special things that I remember now and all of the feelings and ways and ease of life that I adopted along the road will dissipate like fog burning off in the morning sun. Please, oh please, don’t let me forget, let me remember and hold true to living life rather than letting it pass by unannounced and without adventure.
Again, I say, where shall we go next?
Friday, June 15, 2007
Saturday, June 02, 2007
SINKING SHIPS...
First- pixs...my favorite sunset and the end of the long journey, my sinking ship and the drago Brighton gang in vic falls.
Well, so, here it is, my final blog after 8 ½ months of travel…BIG SIGH…it feels strange and confusing and odd not to be getting on a plane tomorrow (OK, that is a lie now as I just got off a plane to NY) or picking up my beloved grey and burgundy, African soil stained, tar covered, sweat covered back pack to get on a bus, train, boat or plane. I have tried now, for several weeks, to write this final blog and I have found it very hard. Mostly, I believe, because my adventures abroad have come to a close and my adventures back in the States are just beginning. That is not to say I won’t be taking other trips in the future but most likely none so long. Truthfully, I am not too sure how I feel about this and am going through a bit of re-adjustment trauma. The panic has only really hit once and my head is at least in a place where I can recognize that it is a passing phase. I have very much enjoyed writing my blog and I do hope that I have not bored you too terribly with all of my babble and that you too, have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. It already feels strange not to have new exciting adventures to tell – well there are new adventures but they just don’t seem as thrilling as gorillas, balloon rides, tigers, crazy bus trips, Himalayan hikes, nutty Arabs and the beautiful blue Mediterranean.
Hmmm, well, what have I been doing since I last left you… on the 18th of May, Jules and I woke up to a grey, drizzly Tunisian sky, which I think I have already told you about, and we headed back to the UK, where we arrived to a fairly grey (typically so) British Spring day. A quick train journey got us out to Brighton and Jules’ great little flat where we began to prepare for a weekend of festivities and a small Dragoman reunion. Sus, Steve and Sarah were coming in for the weekend for one more good laugh. In short, we ate loads (including Jules’ fantastic Bannofi Pie (a banana toffee thing) and an orange cake made by Steve), drank a load of wine (no fun shopping for wine in the UK – even the mediocre stuff is expensive! OK, the exchange rate didn’t help me either), wandered along the seaside and through the quaint little streets of Brighton and took a stroll on the South Downs followed by a pub lunch out in the sun and had one final proper Italian gelato. It turned out to be a sunny and warm weekend which made our tromping about Brighton even more fun – quite fantastic in fact. Brighton really is a charmer and I think, if I had to move anywhere in the UK, it would be this seaside town with its air of old England, people strolling the promenade, eating and drinking, and the waves lapping on the pebble beach.
After the lovely weekend, on a cold, wet, steel colored sky sort of day, I headed into London for my last two nights, which I spent in Wimbledon re-packing and organizing the junk that I managed to collect along the way. I also managed to squeeze in a quick trip out to the London International Wine and Spirits Trade fair where I reconnected with some of the South African wine people I had met and one of my old Robert Mondavi co-workers. Then it was off for a night out with Nicky (old co-worker) and friends.
What I had planned on being a short night out – a dinner – turned into a 4:00am return as everyone seemed to want to continue on and on and on and we ended up in one of the cheesier night clubs in London. It is called Tiger Tiger. I think the name pretty much gives it away as did the big brass cat thing in the bathroom. Time flew by and before we knew it, we were being kicked out and being sent home. I did learn one important thing, though, in those hours…I drink what the Brits consider girlie and/of bad beers. I was continually mocked for my choices. Apparently Boddingtons is for the youngsters who don’t quite like the taste of beer and want something light and girlie (hey, I am a girl after all) and the Leffe, (fantastic Belgian beer, I must say – my favorite, and which I am drinking right now), was never really explained. Thus, why the Leffe was an odd choice I never learned but the guys in the party sure as hell got a good laugh and actually refused to order me a second one when it came time for the next round. Some other, fairly non-descript beer magically appeared (thankfully not a Budweiser). After many goodbyes we all finally piled into cabs and I made it home to Wimbledon (thankfully two others were going there too).
Then with just two paltry hours of sleep, grabbed my very cumbersome bags and dragged them two blocks up to the train station. Talk about feeling like an over-packed, overtired camel. Hell, if I could moan like Zurich did in the Sahara, I would have been doing it. I imagine this would have aroused some serious glances in my direction but not too many people were awake at that hour so I didn’t have to embarrass myself too badly on my trek. Although at one change of trains a man felt so bad for me he carried one of my bags up the stairs. Overall, I felt quite proud and accomplished when I finally did reach the airport and got myself a cart (thank god!). Just so you can imagine what I must have looked like, I was carrying my big backpack, a duffel bag full of stuff, a book bag type backpack and a drum. All of this got carried down a road, through a tunnel and up some stairs to a train station and then through two tube station changes and finally to the airport cart. Of course, none of the lines were right next to each other and all of them required either walking up and down a couple flights of stairs or down into the bowels of the tube lines. Thankfully most of the sweat that had been pouring down my face was gone by the time I reached check-in so only a couple of sweat drops landed on my ticket as I handed it over to the agent. She only slightly looked at me with the question of, “Does this girl really belong in business class and how do I manage to bump her back to economy?” Actually she was VERY helpful and kind and wouldn’t let me touch my bag once I had set it down even though it needed to go over to “odd shaped luggage” and no porter was coming to help her.
I probably don’t need to tell you about the plane ride. It was fairly uneventful. Used miles to buy my ticket so again had the benefit of flying business class (as noted above). Safely tucked into my chair, and completely exhausted, I had a celebratory mimosa, followed by warmed nuts, a fillet with asparagus, a selection of local cheeses and a glass or port to ensure I would in fact fall right to sleep (as if there was any doubt about that after the previous night of no sleep). And, well, that was about it. Slept a bit, watched a movie, read about five pages in my book, and we were there! Fortunately, instead of having to return to reality right away I was whisked off from the airport to Carmel for a family get together and a week of acclimation. The coast was, well, foggy and then foggy again but I had a wonderful time seeing everyone and getting to re-meet my niece, even though I don’t think she is too sure about her “auntie softphie” even though I got strong armed (by her cuteness, of course) into getting watering can after watering can of water for her from the ocean. It was a nice week and a good way to come back.
So, where am I now? Well, partially on a the blow up bed in my dad’s office and party on various peoples couches and spare beds and, right now, in New York for a job interview. Other than bouncing about a bit, I am seriously wondering how the hell I acquired so much junk. In looking at what I left behind as “need right when I get back” I am very curious where the hell my mind was. Boots, in the middle of summer? Even if it was spring I probably wouldn’t need boots. And well, the clothes that got left out – huh? Other than half of them no longer fitting, I am really questioning what I am doing owning all this junk. My storage container was an even better eye opener…not sure what half of it is and why it did not hit the garbage bin when I left. Hell, maybe when I open it up, really open it up, I will be pleasantly surprised and happy that I have all this stuff but I am really not too sure about that. Even though I did acquire a bunch more stuff along my trip, I really have also realized how little we need in life to be happy. Does one really need to own 50 shirts for working out and 100 pairs of shoes? OK, so that is an exaggeration but that is what I feel like I have.
So, that now, since we are the junk subject, brings me to the sinking ships subject….wondering what that one is all about aren’t you. You are probably assuming that my sinking ship is in reference to the fact that I have finally returned to the US and am now mired in a job search. Or, it could refer to me having been on a ship that sank (nope, not the case). Possibly it is in reference to me feeling like my life ship is sinking (also not the case). In fact, the reference to the sinking ship is in regards to the MSC Napoli, a 68,000 ton tanker/cargo ship that left South Africa on the 21st of December and due to unfortunate circumstances is now stranded off the coast of England in Devon AND was carrying some more of my STUFF! Since my package was not there when I arrived home, I decided to do a little search. It did have my Maasai warrior spear and my two geoffries (giraffes) in it after all.
After an inquiry to the South African post office, I found the date that the package left South Africa and the name of the ship. So, out of sheer curiosity, I decided to type in “MSC Napoli” into Google to see what came up. And boy, what did I get??? Article after article about the troubles the stricken cargo ship has faced. Apparently it was sliced open during a heavy storm, then when they tried to tow it, more problems arose, a few containers fell off as the ship listed and it sounds like several more storms have hit during the attempt so save the rest of the cargo and get the ship beached. The containers that came ashore have also been looted so it is now quite a mess. What has been salvaged has been carried to Antwerp to be moved to another ship where, hopefully, my STUFF is now located and continuing its voyage home. I am really hoping that this is the case as I would quite like to see my geoffries again. Either that or, I hope they can swim!
Well then, there you have it. All done! But before I really go, for all of you, be well, be safe, travel everywhere you can (safely) and remember to cherish your friends and family and those that love you and that you love and the experiences you have with them as they can never be replace and will carry on with you forever.
Oh, gosh, I had to end on a sappy note didn’t I? So, then, where shall we go next?????
Hmmm, well, what have I been doing since I last left you… on the 18th of May, Jules and I woke up to a grey, drizzly Tunisian sky, which I think I have already told you about, and we headed back to the UK, where we arrived to a fairly grey (typically so) British Spring day. A quick train journey got us out to Brighton and Jules’ great little flat where we began to prepare for a weekend of festivities and a small Dragoman reunion. Sus, Steve and Sarah were coming in for the weekend for one more good laugh. In short, we ate loads (including Jules’ fantastic Bannofi Pie (a banana toffee thing) and an orange cake made by Steve), drank a load of wine (no fun shopping for wine in the UK – even the mediocre stuff is expensive! OK, the exchange rate didn’t help me either), wandered along the seaside and through the quaint little streets of Brighton and took a stroll on the South Downs followed by a pub lunch out in the sun and had one final proper Italian gelato. It turned out to be a sunny and warm weekend which made our tromping about Brighton even more fun – quite fantastic in fact. Brighton really is a charmer and I think, if I had to move anywhere in the UK, it would be this seaside town with its air of old England, people strolling the promenade, eating and drinking, and the waves lapping on the pebble beach.
After the lovely weekend, on a cold, wet, steel colored sky sort of day, I headed into London for my last two nights, which I spent in Wimbledon re-packing and organizing the junk that I managed to collect along the way. I also managed to squeeze in a quick trip out to the London International Wine and Spirits Trade fair where I reconnected with some of the South African wine people I had met and one of my old Robert Mondavi co-workers. Then it was off for a night out with Nicky (old co-worker) and friends.
What I had planned on being a short night out – a dinner – turned into a 4:00am return as everyone seemed to want to continue on and on and on and we ended up in one of the cheesier night clubs in London. It is called Tiger Tiger. I think the name pretty much gives it away as did the big brass cat thing in the bathroom. Time flew by and before we knew it, we were being kicked out and being sent home. I did learn one important thing, though, in those hours…I drink what the Brits consider girlie and/of bad beers. I was continually mocked for my choices. Apparently Boddingtons is for the youngsters who don’t quite like the taste of beer and want something light and girlie (hey, I am a girl after all) and the Leffe, (fantastic Belgian beer, I must say – my favorite, and which I am drinking right now), was never really explained. Thus, why the Leffe was an odd choice I never learned but the guys in the party sure as hell got a good laugh and actually refused to order me a second one when it came time for the next round. Some other, fairly non-descript beer magically appeared (thankfully not a Budweiser). After many goodbyes we all finally piled into cabs and I made it home to Wimbledon (thankfully two others were going there too).
Then with just two paltry hours of sleep, grabbed my very cumbersome bags and dragged them two blocks up to the train station. Talk about feeling like an over-packed, overtired camel. Hell, if I could moan like Zurich did in the Sahara, I would have been doing it. I imagine this would have aroused some serious glances in my direction but not too many people were awake at that hour so I didn’t have to embarrass myself too badly on my trek. Although at one change of trains a man felt so bad for me he carried one of my bags up the stairs. Overall, I felt quite proud and accomplished when I finally did reach the airport and got myself a cart (thank god!). Just so you can imagine what I must have looked like, I was carrying my big backpack, a duffel bag full of stuff, a book bag type backpack and a drum. All of this got carried down a road, through a tunnel and up some stairs to a train station and then through two tube station changes and finally to the airport cart. Of course, none of the lines were right next to each other and all of them required either walking up and down a couple flights of stairs or down into the bowels of the tube lines. Thankfully most of the sweat that had been pouring down my face was gone by the time I reached check-in so only a couple of sweat drops landed on my ticket as I handed it over to the agent. She only slightly looked at me with the question of, “Does this girl really belong in business class and how do I manage to bump her back to economy?” Actually she was VERY helpful and kind and wouldn’t let me touch my bag once I had set it down even though it needed to go over to “odd shaped luggage” and no porter was coming to help her.
I probably don’t need to tell you about the plane ride. It was fairly uneventful. Used miles to buy my ticket so again had the benefit of flying business class (as noted above). Safely tucked into my chair, and completely exhausted, I had a celebratory mimosa, followed by warmed nuts, a fillet with asparagus, a selection of local cheeses and a glass or port to ensure I would in fact fall right to sleep (as if there was any doubt about that after the previous night of no sleep). And, well, that was about it. Slept a bit, watched a movie, read about five pages in my book, and we were there! Fortunately, instead of having to return to reality right away I was whisked off from the airport to Carmel for a family get together and a week of acclimation. The coast was, well, foggy and then foggy again but I had a wonderful time seeing everyone and getting to re-meet my niece, even though I don’t think she is too sure about her “auntie softphie” even though I got strong armed (by her cuteness, of course) into getting watering can after watering can of water for her from the ocean. It was a nice week and a good way to come back.
So, where am I now? Well, partially on a the blow up bed in my dad’s office and party on various peoples couches and spare beds and, right now, in New York for a job interview. Other than bouncing about a bit, I am seriously wondering how the hell I acquired so much junk. In looking at what I left behind as “need right when I get back” I am very curious where the hell my mind was. Boots, in the middle of summer? Even if it was spring I probably wouldn’t need boots. And well, the clothes that got left out – huh? Other than half of them no longer fitting, I am really questioning what I am doing owning all this junk. My storage container was an even better eye opener…not sure what half of it is and why it did not hit the garbage bin when I left. Hell, maybe when I open it up, really open it up, I will be pleasantly surprised and happy that I have all this stuff but I am really not too sure about that. Even though I did acquire a bunch more stuff along my trip, I really have also realized how little we need in life to be happy. Does one really need to own 50 shirts for working out and 100 pairs of shoes? OK, so that is an exaggeration but that is what I feel like I have.
So, that now, since we are the junk subject, brings me to the sinking ships subject….wondering what that one is all about aren’t you. You are probably assuming that my sinking ship is in reference to the fact that I have finally returned to the US and am now mired in a job search. Or, it could refer to me having been on a ship that sank (nope, not the case). Possibly it is in reference to me feeling like my life ship is sinking (also not the case). In fact, the reference to the sinking ship is in regards to the MSC Napoli, a 68,000 ton tanker/cargo ship that left South Africa on the 21st of December and due to unfortunate circumstances is now stranded off the coast of England in Devon AND was carrying some more of my STUFF! Since my package was not there when I arrived home, I decided to do a little search. It did have my Maasai warrior spear and my two geoffries (giraffes) in it after all.
After an inquiry to the South African post office, I found the date that the package left South Africa and the name of the ship. So, out of sheer curiosity, I decided to type in “MSC Napoli” into Google to see what came up. And boy, what did I get??? Article after article about the troubles the stricken cargo ship has faced. Apparently it was sliced open during a heavy storm, then when they tried to tow it, more problems arose, a few containers fell off as the ship listed and it sounds like several more storms have hit during the attempt so save the rest of the cargo and get the ship beached. The containers that came ashore have also been looted so it is now quite a mess. What has been salvaged has been carried to Antwerp to be moved to another ship where, hopefully, my STUFF is now located and continuing its voyage home. I am really hoping that this is the case as I would quite like to see my geoffries again. Either that or, I hope they can swim!
Well then, there you have it. All done! But before I really go, for all of you, be well, be safe, travel everywhere you can (safely) and remember to cherish your friends and family and those that love you and that you love and the experiences you have with them as they can never be replace and will carry on with you forever.
Oh, gosh, I had to end on a sappy note didn’t I? So, then, where shall we go next?????
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