tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47758798382118958352024-03-01T13:41:29.465+08:00Hailey's Hong Kong / Taiwan DiaryI'm Hailey and this is my blog. Do blogs still exist? Let me check MySpace later. I'm an American dancer/musician living in Taiwan and Hong Kong. This is where I ramble on about whatever I might want to remember in twenty years.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.comBlogger1055125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-49869319684748153992023-04-27T05:12:00.004+08:002023-07-04T17:18:37.235+08:00African Tour:Going HomeFlying from Taipei to Johannesburg took 44 hours. There were long delays in Bangkok and Doha. Flying from Mombasa to Taipei took half the time. Every plane took off on time and there were only two to three hour waits in between flights.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1htLF3lBcA7SvWTt-dB5IMVfv9c2kkVPxEwfyK5Ru7BZ_4lcEBQxVVamnGAAq1GOONIhsVQJNJYSLl5pWkNnXt3o_2_gKJBHzGl9YnY9VJaLuZqNrdGK9k1DA6P2LemTbWPfqMQNSyTh_guVy3RDU5QSLYnT6l4r7VOuZFi7HIH4RQttbPRSs5DaXONA/s1598/MBAint.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1htLF3lBcA7SvWTt-dB5IMVfv9c2kkVPxEwfyK5Ru7BZ_4lcEBQxVVamnGAAq1GOONIhsVQJNJYSLl5pWkNnXt3o_2_gKJBHzGl9YnY9VJaLuZqNrdGK9k1DA6P2LemTbWPfqMQNSyTh_guVy3RDU5QSLYnT6l4r7VOuZFi7HIH4RQttbPRSs5DaXONA/s320/MBAint.JPG"/></a></div>
<center>Moi International Airport
<br>Mombasa, Kenya</center>
<br><br>
A hotel shuttle took me and a dozen other people the 40km north to Moi International Airport in Mombasa.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpedwE5puC7l3rGs5rWb4S9lLPiWyBlVmTs6x4LcurMY_oiF0BA_IZDRPpa8I5O29mz9y2TDsCl_SBBy9HEYuyguQYK3KGofE5jz-ubJKTl_Lmzkt2KmjcxPsa-Z2potLl20R3qLCHKC8u3qBnVo4s8MYM8c6PBnKgXks0djQtY3V6GKWFK3CQ3MM8mQ/s1200/NBOint.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpedwE5puC7l3rGs5rWb4S9lLPiWyBlVmTs6x4LcurMY_oiF0BA_IZDRPpa8I5O29mz9y2TDsCl_SBBy9HEYuyguQYK3KGofE5jz-ubJKTl_Lmzkt2KmjcxPsa-Z2potLl20R3qLCHKC8u3qBnVo4s8MYM8c6PBnKgXks0djQtY3V6GKWFK3CQ3MM8mQ/s320/NBOint.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Jomo Kenyatta International Airport
<br>Nairobi, Kenya</center>
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNVHlVN6-m9b03JIYeMhEbE-N1-gNSVra3ynDuLZB5ivO5m5NlCjjV3ZnITgczk2UEEXIzVtY_9WE5J8VAaSSF4IGx-S6cbEpgRnSROm7vwMD39L_WXAfNb03qjcgvj-BmJshCS1FGpASs9yQ9tNPbv9-r5Yx7t60CXYMT1C_l9BE5FIxc7VORe8toWJw/s1900/DOHint.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1270" data-original-width="1900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNVHlVN6-m9b03JIYeMhEbE-N1-gNSVra3ynDuLZB5ivO5m5NlCjjV3ZnITgczk2UEEXIzVtY_9WE5J8VAaSSF4IGx-S6cbEpgRnSROm7vwMD39L_WXAfNb03qjcgvj-BmJshCS1FGpASs9yQ9tNPbv9-r5Yx7t60CXYMT1C_l9BE5FIxc7VORe8toWJw/s320/DOHint.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Hamad International Airport
<br>Doha, Qatar</center>
<br><br>
Eight hours later, I was back in Doha. Every other time I have been to Hamad Airport, I had to wait for several hours in the early morning when the airport was mostly closed. This time, I only waited three hours in the early morning when the airport was mostly closed. For whatever reason, every flight I have ever taken to Doha gets in after midnight. I have never seen Hamad fully awake.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwEGeUNxu9-qSEaCkDSrGpFSYxarrGgMjXwrzkeRupCHPvSLB-y5Xks8gdAoXz9_f2Rn5x0FysrpvKSP2A7TpcumMD6yF443WDvG6BfdbjHKCfhfeWmLG6U3XhHmX5gYRolJCEbK_3XlV5-DBeEdZZydO2m1muzgByQnDr2Jo-FYjQVBnYmILsE32fXVg/s2048/BKKint.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwEGeUNxu9-qSEaCkDSrGpFSYxarrGgMjXwrzkeRupCHPvSLB-y5Xks8gdAoXz9_f2Rn5x0FysrpvKSP2A7TpcumMD6yF443WDvG6BfdbjHKCfhfeWmLG6U3XhHmX5gYRolJCEbK_3XlV5-DBeEdZZydO2m1muzgByQnDr2Jo-FYjQVBnYmILsE32fXVg/s320/BKKint.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Suvarnabhumi Airport
<br>Bangkok, Thailand</center>
<br><br>
I was in Bangkok in time for lunch. Suvarnabhumi Airport is not the worst place to eat, and infinitely better than airplane food.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2gXd4V_wXfTh-RLZEfOOxnDt3Tnz3-17zbtoaSxB3mmE2ZM5UoezYnPUVwAjuF5Qz3PE2xnaaPLV3gYyHIZBhtxCnHMXQklPYAHFoLa3gOjTFLXSgyU02meAABzGyfk09cS_L3wVGPUqSAL5RTweAaVsp9mg-jMfYWq_aqGxCmi7BIDSHkZN-7U6U0I/s1920/TPEint.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2gXd4V_wXfTh-RLZEfOOxnDt3Tnz3-17zbtoaSxB3mmE2ZM5UoezYnPUVwAjuF5Qz3PE2xnaaPLV3gYyHIZBhtxCnHMXQklPYAHFoLa3gOjTFLXSgyU02meAABzGyfk09cS_L3wVGPUqSAL5RTweAaVsp9mg-jMfYWq_aqGxCmi7BIDSHkZN-7U6U0I/s320/TPEint.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Taoyuan International Airport
<br>Taipei, Taiwan</center>
<br><br>
I landed in Taipei at night, but not too late to catch the gaotie back to Kaohsiung. For whatever reason, the last train out of Taipei is just before midnight. If your flight lands after that, you get to spend the night in Taipei. The buses do not run that late and no sane taxi driver would ever take you from Taipei to Kaohsiung.
<br><br>
I walked into my apartment about a half hour after midnight. It was the first time I felt like I was home in a while. I stayed in some nice hotels and even nicer apartments, but I always felt like a visitor. No matter how exotic or interesting any given location is, there truly is no place like home. Plus, my bed at home is outstanding.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-41952439465857825922023-04-19T04:42:00.003+08:002023-07-04T16:47:26.530+08:00African Tour:Diani Beach<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZfoL5xJEOiKQWGAOGatoWVtFrsUlo_HBoA13EegRcVocaLAkx3OBmAIKmJLo0mXMYb4a3N1AxNP5GN1nNnadTi6fD_Ob3_F2iwBDF5gkEd4ezvoJmEtPQVRB9Up6yb6yooEF2okDB8lGtNdFpbUPpkJAnrBgIOk05kFg3mVksxn9ikQxVrk2Uw0hd9Y/s1024/SEU.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUZfoL5xJEOiKQWGAOGatoWVtFrsUlo_HBoA13EegRcVocaLAkx3OBmAIKmJLo0mXMYb4a3N1AxNP5GN1nNnadTi6fD_Ob3_F2iwBDF5gkEd4ezvoJmEtPQVRB9Up6yb6yooEF2okDB8lGtNdFpbUPpkJAnrBgIOk05kFg3mVksxn9ikQxVrk2Uw0hd9Y/s320/SEU.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Seronera Airstrip
<br>Serengeti National Park</center>
<br>
When my time at the Maasai Mara/Serengeti was up, Edgar drove me to the airport. Rather than drive me all the way back to Nairobi, he took me to the Seronera Airstrip, a patch of dirt inside the Serengeti National Park. That was where we parted ways. We only knew each other for two weeks, but he showed me the time of my life. While I will always remember our time together, he probably moved on to his next group right away and drove around the parks he has driven around a thousand times before.
<br><br>
Rather than board a Boeing 737 or Embraer 190 jet airliner, I got on a nine-passenger turboprop Cessna 208 Caravan. The flight to Mombasa was less than 90 minutes. The flight from Nairobi to Mombasa is only an hour, but driving from the Mara to Nairobi would have taken at least five hours. The hotel picked me up at Moi International Airport and drove me to Diani Beach.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIgUwLitBSAsukccyQHD_HyWeC18IVM1elm_3DYE7PioKQjnXnATyMCpQOnAVauP_JKVkoPOjZeisH-4xZ2ZvIhkOf-XkalRtI94i8VXDp1IsZEvQm0BLyuDhgvXeCsW1gPxdrzIHuPiw6eS2kgKz4m6_cVfgWnbvMePy4LG1aHclM6uoDiTFGqqb2do/s2560/Southern%20Palms%20Beach%20Resort.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1919" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIgUwLitBSAsukccyQHD_HyWeC18IVM1elm_3DYE7PioKQjnXnATyMCpQOnAVauP_JKVkoPOjZeisH-4xZ2ZvIhkOf-XkalRtI94i8VXDp1IsZEvQm0BLyuDhgvXeCsW1gPxdrzIHuPiw6eS2kgKz4m6_cVfgWnbvMePy4LG1aHclM6uoDiTFGqqb2do/s320/Southern%20Palms%20Beach%20Resort.jpeg"/></a></div>
I spent four nights at the Southern Palms Beach Resort on Diani Beach, just south of Mombasa. It could not have been more different from any of the national parks. My cabin at Amboseli was pretty nice as far as national parks go, but my room at the beach resort looked like a room at a four star beach resort. It might have been larger than all my rooms at the Mara, Amboseli, and Lake Nakuru combined. Maybe that is a slight exaggeration, but only barely.
<br><br>
Though not on an island, the resort was surrounded by water. It looked like all the buildings were designed around the swimming pools rather than the other way around. Just past the beach was the Indian Ocean.
<br><br>
The resort was in the town of Ukunda, which probably had something to offer. I never really saw much of it. There were no gate times and I could come and go as I pleased, but saw little reason to leave the resort and beach.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYdZgvoJfTM-laAfTpYHKIcb1IMfob0wDze0mzC_xcKGPzDU8E9EdD3-SlOHwmOpRfONtdKNQddfjB0PxEZ4PBGw954iZti0hte7eWNkzsLlYIFWO5O4jdzNezcs2dtFkTr22y-IudkVmniuZh2k-VecgpJfTq6E-O1BJZiZcn7kztzyP41f719QKRHM/s1980/Diani%20Beach.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1320" data-original-width="1980" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYdZgvoJfTM-laAfTpYHKIcb1IMfob0wDze0mzC_xcKGPzDU8E9EdD3-SlOHwmOpRfONtdKNQddfjB0PxEZ4PBGw954iZti0hte7eWNkzsLlYIFWO5O4jdzNezcs2dtFkTr22y-IudkVmniuZh2k-VecgpJfTq6E-O1BJZiZcn7kztzyP41f719QKRHM/s320/Diani%20Beach.jpg"/></a></div>
Diani Beach is supposed to be the most popular beach in all of Kenya. Fortunately, I was not there during the high season. There were always people on the beach, but it was never crowded. Sometimes there were enough people for the owners of the camels to offer rides. Having ridden a horse in Kommetjie, I thought about riding a camel on Diani Beach, but the horses looked more independent.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-HQ2hbuEzsqEeN7m-1ooQaALZb27NMIP9-sU0nuNm8K9MJcDGcXKdezBoo7ubFsdK69Y2Gx01fquWByBvaFY9B2ra_LNnGM5tK3EkhMG-4G4ZX1TV1Lbdovc8ysSKse3HoJDupvYzpBSAtTBIyy9118bE-Jb9U4i-GJZN2UZ3SgarmzAee0ERoHG2sQ/s1200/Diani%20coral.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-HQ2hbuEzsqEeN7m-1ooQaALZb27NMIP9-sU0nuNm8K9MJcDGcXKdezBoo7ubFsdK69Y2Gx01fquWByBvaFY9B2ra_LNnGM5tK3EkhMG-4G4ZX1TV1Lbdovc8ysSKse3HoJDupvYzpBSAtTBIyy9118bE-Jb9U4i-GJZN2UZ3SgarmzAee0ERoHG2sQ/s320/Diani%20coral.jpg"/></a></div>
There was a coral reef just off the coast. It is one of the more popular tourist activities, other than riding camels on the beach. I prefer getting to know the culture rather than doing tourist crap anytime I go somewhere new, but I rarely get the chance to snorkel at a coral reef. So I joined a bunch of white foreigners and dove in. I could not identify 90% of the fish and coral I saw, but it was beautiful all the same. I can barely identify any flowers beyond the tulips at Keukenhof, but I love going there all the same.
<br><br>
Staying at a beach resort at the end of the safari was part of the package deal. I thought it was unnecessary at first. If I subtracted those days at the resort, I could spend more time in the parks. But I came to realize that a few days at a beach resort was an excellent way to end my time in Africa. The national parks are outstanding, but they require a lot of moving around and trying to get somewhere in time. A beach resort requires absolutely nothing of you. Do what you want, when you want. There was plenty of food, the Indian Ocean, and an excellent series of swimming pools. It was not a bad way to spend a long weekend.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-33793518882234443052023-04-13T06:37:00.015+08:002023-07-04T16:25:09.572+08:00African Tour:Maasai Mara National Reserve / Serengeti National Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-R4HFg_SMBfJdgD1LE5arQg2xaV64eR4VA7zwmeXpH-VsurvhGk385AMYZQAZPt-ZHTslzjlBc-2r1kE2w6E2RLhUYecHiecxKjJ935Sp0OdYyBHAWEKMaODx897H0Rt1p8cvzlOXOYp5MGMO_e3Vgsle6pojRI0JgjpXfrzfzpgqzgFNXxKVlRoXE8/s1920/serengeti%20wildebeest3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-R4HFg_SMBfJdgD1LE5arQg2xaV64eR4VA7zwmeXpH-VsurvhGk385AMYZQAZPt-ZHTslzjlBc-2r1kE2w6E2RLhUYecHiecxKjJ935Sp0OdYyBHAWEKMaODx897H0Rt1p8cvzlOXOYp5MGMO_e3Vgsle6pojRI0JgjpXfrzfzpgqzgFNXxKVlRoXE8/s320/serengeti%20wildebeest3.jpg"/></a></div><center>Wildebeest across the Serengeti</center>
<br>
We drove 230km southwest from Lake Nakuru to the Maasai Mara National Reserve. The Maasai Mara is on the southern border with Tanzania and sits right up against the Serengeti National Park. They are two separate parks in different countries, but are easy to treat as one, as long as you like driving. The Maasai Mara is four times larger than Amboseli. The Serengeti is ten times larger than the Maasai Mara. Conveniently, you can cross the border from Kenya to Tanzania without even realizing it. Rather than customs agents and checkpoints, there are stone markers, and a pretty enormous reason no barricades separate the two.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSiMfm6rb3LqjUo1V2ho9-Q31vzzes6zZZi1Y-wC75eCNEMLQ3rPSD8H8c5ALFLhyhYSDwbZPeodle6zKGe77xBlIOsvmNytAQdzp-xfB4g6sU5QMybMkvVjJd0URqwG_b3jZQ8CM4-2i2WQrEkprRTtzJvIJMiLZXXPty2guzG70UAdzOLqmN-8pGdZ8/s2048/mara%20wildebeest%20zebra.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSiMfm6rb3LqjUo1V2ho9-Q31vzzes6zZZi1Y-wC75eCNEMLQ3rPSD8H8c5ALFLhyhYSDwbZPeodle6zKGe77xBlIOsvmNytAQdzp-xfB4g6sU5QMybMkvVjJd0URqwG_b3jZQ8CM4-2i2WQrEkprRTtzJvIJMiLZXXPty2guzG70UAdzOLqmN-8pGdZ8/s320/mara%20wildebeest%20zebra.jpg"/></a></div>
Both the Maasai Mara and the Serengeti are famous for “The Great Migration”. About two million wildebeest, almost 500,000 gazelles, more than 200,000 zebras, and a few thousand other herbivores leave the southern Serengeti and head north to the Maasai Mara. Then they turn around and head back south again, though they take a different path. Rather than one trail north and south, they move in a large circle. There are specific times to watch them cross the Mara River and get eaten by crocodiles, but you can see the Migration at almost any time, as long as you go to the right spot.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7J6tUQ0kItq_Z4pOpbcAUsoCXR4HMjAIuN2Th_fQsn8zMshub6nvHGeMDpyDnHTOmk8iSMx8dh8U31CHNwF9wfqkuapKKkN_cMQgbUwFd4i-rAqFUts4e-E24-BjMCFzBzp2a04Qy15m15u3xuMpOs-4HAAs3_iRasxuOOOZkKh-_U-5Mxm-uiho3WDA/s1920/mara%20giraffe.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7J6tUQ0kItq_Z4pOpbcAUsoCXR4HMjAIuN2Th_fQsn8zMshub6nvHGeMDpyDnHTOmk8iSMx8dh8U31CHNwF9wfqkuapKKkN_cMQgbUwFd4i-rAqFUts4e-E24-BjMCFzBzp2a04Qy15m15u3xuMpOs-4HAAs3_iRasxuOOOZkKh-_U-5Mxm-uiho3WDA/s320/mara%20giraffe.jpg"/></a></div>
Since the animals are free to roam from one park to the other, both are great spots to see everything. Most of the larger national parks have the Big Five. The Maasai Mara and Serengeti have the Big Nine: elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo, lion, leopard, cheetah, giraffe, zebra, and hippopotamus. Realistically, that is little more than marketing. Kruger had all nine, but only advertised the Big Five. Every park I went to had giraffes and zebras. Both animals are so common, they lose their lustre pretty quickly. Spotting zebras in Kenya is as rare as seeing a pigeon in New York. What the Maasai Mara/Serengeti have over other Kenyan parks is the Mara River. It provides a home for hippos and crocodiles that are not at Amboseli or Lake Nakuru and gives everyone somewhere to drink.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5-zNWR-AESsZY5QyQW_MxlDjr8X9D_HmNxWqOWq6F_pWQCJtypSVYLtCraC_srW2X7qQWg1WQr3ElGIKPA2B_xrlz8mb8jeQSns3mDN1hHxGCiORbiQh7pqwqxCxlojQ8O1zOwOkiY6jE4QKTV8dhdIf4FtqcLiNzzD0_z7zLRuNlLix4MRvQFukObs/s1920/Mara%20Serena2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5-zNWR-AESsZY5QyQW_MxlDjr8X9D_HmNxWqOWq6F_pWQCJtypSVYLtCraC_srW2X7qQWg1WQr3ElGIKPA2B_xrlz8mb8jeQSns3mDN1hHxGCiORbiQh7pqwqxCxlojQ8O1zOwOkiY6jE4QKTV8dhdIf4FtqcLiNzzD0_z7zLRuNlLix4MRvQFukObs/s320/Mara%20Serena2.jpg"/></a></div><center>Mara Serena Safari Lodge</center>
<br>
I spent eight nights at the Mara Serena Safari Lodge, which is one of only two or three places you can sleep inside the Mara Triangle. There are plenty of lodges and camp sights throughout the Maasai Mara, and even more outside the reserve's gates, but the Mara Triangle is the best place to be, according to the people at the Mara Serena Safari Lodge. More importantly, Edgar thought it was a good location. I thought I should spend a few nights in the Maasai Mara and a few in the Serengeti, but Edgar explained why it was easier, cheaper, and better to have a single base camp. There was also a little bit of national pride at stake. Edgar was from Kenya and wanted me to spend more money in his country than in Tanzania, especially since Tanzania had just defeated Kenya in some big football game.
<br><br>
This was my smallest room in all of Kenya, so naturally I spent more time at the Mara Serena Safari Lodge than anywhere else. But it was big enough for one person, and I spent more time away from the lodge than in it. My tiny hut was crammed next to my neighbor's tiny hut. I never had that feeling of living in a house with my own yard that I had at Ol Tukai. My front yard was everyone else's front yard. But the entire lodge was on a hill, so our backyard was a view of the Mara as far as the eye could see. Each hut had a tiny balcony where you could sit with a drink and stare at the world in front of you.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeHb07oF5XSYHv-spfx6BodQOxEdeLktNdI-e-E5fTPjzEHn6x7JBRmJJ9OuHUhGqN-09yjshQGzwp77chaf7l8snFMVayY5eddGc5AVR-oxnGkTCF1eo_WA-66apXyM_kB9m7EE3eZ8flDQh1QzmgOtSKpnPTtnAHltGvjccMUnmn4gY7Mmlb4MHQqlY/s1475/Mara%20Serena4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="860" data-original-width="1475" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeHb07oF5XSYHv-spfx6BodQOxEdeLktNdI-e-E5fTPjzEHn6x7JBRmJJ9OuHUhGqN-09yjshQGzwp77chaf7l8snFMVayY5eddGc5AVR-oxnGkTCF1eo_WA-66apXyM_kB9m7EE3eZ8flDQh1QzmgOtSKpnPTtnAHltGvjccMUnmn4gY7Mmlb4MHQqlY/s320/Mara%20Serena4.jpg"/></a></div>
As with everywhere else, Edgar picked me up before sunrise and we drove around all day. I looked around the property a bit, but never really did anything besides eat and sleep. The exception was the night of the big lightning storm. There were several points in the lodge where people could sit or stand on an outdoor terrace and gaze at the endless Mara. One night, there was a lightning storm that lasted several hours. There was no rain, and no lightning ever came close to the lodge, so everyone felt safe to stand outdoors and watch the storm in the distance. It was pretty spectacular. Like a lot of people, I had a camera, but lightning is notoriously difficult to photograph. There were enough strikes to guarantee getting a shot, but I did not have enough expertise to guarantee quality.
<br><br>
The Great Migration was in the Serengeti at the time, so Edgar gave me a choice. We could drive down to see them right away or check out the Mara Triangle first and make our way south later. Either way, he promised I would see more animals than I ever did at Amboseli, though not more elephants. The Maasai Mara and Serengeti had plenty, but no place could compare with Amboseli when it came to elephants.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQKabD3oEra9SfPF2DcT1BluY5IApkjJbwt5EPwntVStVr6Xb_fW75-28ZEQyYysUbRy7U4w5EOOmwSt2KdfWL5B9JPiuzvorxjnFHgfWVR0uWAB2Afn9xg_TMDzQhTVOD8DFv9kt_h7xrbyRqbINjHwkmIOyS_QzH71_ypZxUcbbNLpl6M0e337Md0w/s2256/mara%20elephant5.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQKabD3oEra9SfPF2DcT1BluY5IApkjJbwt5EPwntVStVr6Xb_fW75-28ZEQyYysUbRy7U4w5EOOmwSt2KdfWL5B9JPiuzvorxjnFHgfWVR0uWAB2Afn9xg_TMDzQhTVOD8DFv9kt_h7xrbyRqbINjHwkmIOyS_QzH71_ypZxUcbbNLpl6M0e337Md0w/s320/mara%20elephant5.jpg"/></a></div>
Having said that, my most interesting elephant story happened at the Maasai Mara. We were sitting in the van and looking around while a small group of female elephants walked toward us. We were not directly in their path, and unlike the male elephant at Amboseli, they were not trying to show us who was in charge. We could sit there and watch them walk past, so we did. They were walking slowly, as elephants do. You do not need to hurry when you are the largest land animal in the world. Their complete lack of urgency makes elephants some of the easiest animals to watch, as long as you are not in their path.
<br><br>
As soon as Edgar pointed out the baby elephant, everything changed. It was as if the elephants could hear him. Or maybe they instinctively knew that humans are trouble. In the blink of an eye, all the adults surrounded the baby. They were moving slowly, but at the same time, they all changed positions in the group as if they had choreographed the routine a million times. I was a little jealous. I wanted my dance company to be that precise.
<br><br>
We could barely see the baby. She was behind a wall of thick elephant legs. We were no threat to them, and our van could never survive a direct charge from a single adult elephant. As a group, they could kill us without breaking a sweat. But other than protecting their young, the group did not acknowledge our existence. They kept walking on whatever path they were taking at their same leisurely pace. They simply made sure the baby was safe.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QmYWnAfFHD2DpO-Nn1Wf8YbRsZA7E6n7rYlVUs_kSTECbwxkNmFXf0TIw5FbL9nnUbcqoi1D3cDTYHULiEWH6i8j0ZP5zh4mKPHGAciyHPSxfPtFRobQeY195IKopMHqRRltE4hrSGhX2mji2_UhtlT45w4wdjPNO3xO31JyD9vIqlaCNkJsuBMJkDo/s1280/mara%20cheetah2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="852" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QmYWnAfFHD2DpO-Nn1Wf8YbRsZA7E6n7rYlVUs_kSTECbwxkNmFXf0TIw5FbL9nnUbcqoi1D3cDTYHULiEWH6i8j0ZP5zh4mKPHGAciyHPSxfPtFRobQeY195IKopMHqRRltE4hrSGhX2mji2_UhtlT45w4wdjPNO3xO31JyD9vIqlaCNkJsuBMJkDo/s320/mara%20cheetah2.jpg"/></a></div>
My most interesting cheetah encounter was a little different. Edgar spotted a mother cheetah with two juveniles on the remains of an old termite mound. As we drove closer, I could see them. The mother was standing tall on the mound, staring in the distance. Her cubs were sitting at her side, not at all interested in the distance. Technically, they were not cubs. They were almost as big as she was.
<br><br>
The closer we got, I wondered how close we were going to get. Edgar usually gave the animals more than enough room to get away from us, if they so chose. The mother cheetah not only chose to stay put, she chose to completely ignore us. She was looking for food, according to Edgar, and since we were neither food nor danger, she was not at all interested. When we were what I thought was entirely too close, Edgar slowly inched the van forward. By the time we stopped, we were close enough that I could stretch out of the window and pet the mother cheetah. Edgar suggested I not do that, and I was not about to. Cheetah almost never attack humans, but any mother with her offspring should be considered dangerous.
<br><br>
What surprised me, other than how insanely close we got, was how the juvenile cheetahs ignored us as much as the mother. I thought they would be more curious. Edgar said they followed their mother's lead. She saw us as nothing more than a nuisance, so they did the same.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLFJFoIh7Rtedu60ZvXkQXwOI_c5gCsRc6ifqqw-CsRjf6ysmJWK-4LQypx2kqcHSjaBMDuaiTVngf4XupiauApQztfDT5uF7bdoZkCifST_QCbQUDQE7DQJzcnAQGnbrrfjlgHTTmZ4giubBfeBLLjFMFDndAuwvyrMMw47-rtg0J45PGyUhXWYMlpXg/s3000/serengeti%20elephant3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="3000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLFJFoIh7Rtedu60ZvXkQXwOI_c5gCsRc6ifqqw-CsRjf6ysmJWK-4LQypx2kqcHSjaBMDuaiTVngf4XupiauApQztfDT5uF7bdoZkCifST_QCbQUDQE7DQJzcnAQGnbrrfjlgHTTmZ4giubBfeBLLjFMFDndAuwvyrMMw47-rtg0J45PGyUhXWYMlpXg/s320/serengeti%20elephant3.jpg"/></a></div>
After two days of driving around the Maasai Mara, Edgar took me to the Serengeti. Since the border is an arbitrary line on a map, there was no difference between the two. Except the Serengeti was much larger. Edgar could have told me it was all the Maasai Mara and I never would have known. Instead, he pointed out the stone marker that told everyone which side was which.
<br><br>
The Serengeti had all the same animals as the Maasai Mara, so we headed straight for the stars of the show. I cannot say that I saw two million wildebeest, but there were a lot. We did not reach them while crossing the Mara River, so it was nothing dramatic. They were all simply standing around. Even doing nothing, it was pretty impressive. I have never seen so many huge mammals all gathered together in one place. Except maybe Las Vegas.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbTfRdpIxRi4amHieOoRZBwnmhli0tWLON2Wt_wBcG51CrJ4keSe9tVNR5Qmekl5G19SYhTnyIOklssmdjMbuFc4iBxY2T7PzLQrLBzbYZId4dvLrJtH17QQb0StVtnLcJgCCAHsfsQEcEjXBeR2GEUeNsQXo9uf-Vqap_l8Y1T1qOpD18ituLRfHBGs/s1313/serengeti%20lion1.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1313" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbTfRdpIxRi4amHieOoRZBwnmhli0tWLON2Wt_wBcG51CrJ4keSe9tVNR5Qmekl5G19SYhTnyIOklssmdjMbuFc4iBxY2T7PzLQrLBzbYZId4dvLrJtH17QQb0StVtnLcJgCCAHsfsQEcEjXBeR2GEUeNsQXo9uf-Vqap_l8Y1T1qOpD18ituLRfHBGs/s320/serengeti%20lion1.jpeg"/></a></div>
Though based in the Mara Triangle, we spent more time in the Serengeti. Edgar had our daily route mapped out, but he was more than willing to improvise at the drop of a hat. When he heard about a leopard sighting on the other side of a small creek, we changed course. Unfortunately, the tiny creek was flooded. That made some of the nearby ground wetter than usual. The dirt trail we were on became a mud trail. The Toyota Hi Ace van is not four wheel drive. It was good on paved roads and hard dirt trails, not so great in the mud. The irony is that Edgar knew the road was no good. Before heading into the mud, he told me there was a chance we might get stuck and asked if I wanted to go a different way. I assumed he knew what was best and told him to go for it. He did know best and most likely wanted to go a different way, but also wanted to keep his customer happy.
<br><br>
When Edgar got out of the van to push, I got out as well. He never asked me to help, but I was not about to sit in the van and add extra weight. He pointed out that we were in a part of the park where everyone is supposed to stay in their vehicles at all times. He also pointed out that if we just waited for help, we could be stuck in the mud for days.
<br><br>
Fortunately, there was more traffic than Edgar expected. Probably other people looking for that leopard. A jeep with two guides pulled up to us and helped with the pushing. Why they never tried to winch the van out, I have no idea. Maybe they did not have the proper equipment. Not that it mattered. Four people pushing should have been enough.
<br><br>
But it was not. That van was really in there.
<br><br>
When a jeep of tourists pulled up, a flock of humans got out and started wandering around. A few of them helped push the van. Most of them took pictures of our surroundings. Some of them took pictures of the small group pushing the van out of the mud. I am probably on someone's Facebook page with a little story about how the person who took the picture helped out a fellow traveler on their African journey, even though the person taking the picture did absolutely nothing to help.
<br><br>
It took longer than I expected, but we eventually got the van onto solid ground. Edgar thanked everyone and the three vehicles drove off in three different directions. Much to no one's surprise, the leopard was long gone.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_hDaCG3t29lWZT7drOUMCvi8smJZF3cnyEPH1EGjuXJcebeTco8EBMhwL_5wq4QiPVMedORmSIkx6TuV0kv3P9binjqxh02TKWg2YS7RYVHawdXtKwM2V1NnadMAuUlxT-maY4uiOY3Ju-Xgag4wahfObz7tj8jOnpTP9Ab3NlxEqaO5vrst1WaeD12c/s3000/mara%20balloon10.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="3000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_hDaCG3t29lWZT7drOUMCvi8smJZF3cnyEPH1EGjuXJcebeTco8EBMhwL_5wq4QiPVMedORmSIkx6TuV0kv3P9binjqxh02TKWg2YS7RYVHawdXtKwM2V1NnadMAuUlxT-maY4uiOY3Ju-Xgag4wahfObz7tj8jOnpTP9Ab3NlxEqaO5vrst1WaeD12c/s320/mara%20balloon10.jpg"/></a></div>
In the middle of my time at the Maasai Mara, I took a ride in a hot air balloon. That was not at all part of my safari package deal. It was most definitely a separate charge, and far more expensive than it really needed to be. I figured I had to take advantage of the opportunity when it came up. A lot of things might sound like a once in a lifetime experience. Riding in a hot air balloon over the Maasai Mara truly is. I suppose it is theoretically possible that I will do it again some day, but I doubt it.
<br><br>
Balloon rides over the Maasai Mara require waking up exceptionally early, even by my standards. Since the balloon takes off before sunrise, you have to be there even earlier. It was so early in the morning that someone from the balloon company picked me up instead of Edgar.
<br><br>
At the launch site, about a dozen people got the balloon ready while seven other passengers drank coffee and tea. After the crew inflated the balloon with a large fan, the passengers were all invited to walk around inside it. I have no idea why this is even an option, but it gives you a good sense of just how enormous these balloons are.
<br><br>
Once everyone was out of the balloon, they filled it with hot air and we all watched the balloon slowly rise like an old man reminiscing about <i>Charlie's Angels</i>. When the balloon was fully erect, the pilot climbed into the basket and moved levers and flipped switches. When the balloon was ready, eight passengers climbed into the basket. It was a snug fit with no room to move around, but we all had an unobstructed view from our own little corner.
<br><br>
Take off was smoother than I expected. There was no jolt or bump of any kind. We simply started levitating. Rather than go straight up, the pilot moved forward like an airplane. For safety, we were all asked to sit down during take off. The pilot told us we could stand once we were a few feet off the ground.
<br><br>
We rose above the savannah with the sun. They timed it perfectly. I have seen a million sunrises, but never over an African savannah and never while I was floating upward at the same time. It was one of those experiences that I will never be able to fully put into words. Pictures look nice, but they can never tell you how it felt.
<br><br>
With 12 years experience flying over the Maasai Mara, the pilot knew where to go. He knew when to fly high and give us a bird's eye view and when to take us down to get a closer look at everything. He knew which animals we could get relatively close to and which would be scared away. Elephants and lions mostly did not care about us flying above them. Giraffes and gazelles ran as soon as they spotted the balloon.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5ffhcBZTgHGysF8PC5ogL6hZ0KLJ4n2fmZ8QoQT-s72fylgJdRGZkwv8V4pkRxDSsOFzG-fZXxm1flbuBD4lVG_B7xx3XMUM8ekpb3fFy-OmBVqNQ9Nf3PwRVdKY82LOY-ZXIbY42-NJMsAY6UN93VR_2GiTMjgh5caVjM2D7SWXWeUKNgR6Sn-wrQ0/s1441/mara%20balloon1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="758" data-original-width="1441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5ffhcBZTgHGysF8PC5ogL6hZ0KLJ4n2fmZ8QoQT-s72fylgJdRGZkwv8V4pkRxDSsOFzG-fZXxm1flbuBD4lVG_B7xx3XMUM8ekpb3fFy-OmBVqNQ9Nf3PwRVdKY82LOY-ZXIbY42-NJMsAY6UN93VR_2GiTMjgh5caVjM2D7SWXWeUKNgR6Sn-wrQ0/s320/mara%20balloon1.jpg"/></a></div>
Even though the Maasai Mara and Serengeti feel like the same place, they are legally in different countries. You can drive between the two, but hot air balloons cannot cross the border. Since the Great Migration was in the Serengeti at the time, we were all warned in advance that we would not see it on the balloon ride. Taking a balloon over the Great Migration must be an amazing way to see just how large it is, but you also have to go at a specific time that probably has to be booked months in advance.
<br><br>
Instead, we flew over the Mara, crossed the Mara River, and saw a lot of animals, just not millions at a time. When our time was up, we made an incredibly soft landing and everyone climbed out of the big basket. A long, decorated table was waiting nearby for all of the passengers to have a champagne breakfast in an open field. Someone asked if it was safe to be there, but I think most of us just assumed the balloon company would not serve their customers breakfast in the middle of a lion pride's feeding ground.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUiWSibWIS076Z6FQJ7rXbolpCI7jisv77LgU5G6iBNNnfUSRA9bMpCF-xrtbYJjpAAWi1ewoZYDGDPoNnAW2369vVTue5mizt6NUvWRk2-kJFvcS3J4ON5ayiLA-LKp-kn8Lh59Jln2aY5wr8_Y5DtbfYSvEEgQiBvNrMO0-Dp3fHojA3h7iREHcCUM/s1920/Maasai%20Village.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUiWSibWIS076Z6FQJ7rXbolpCI7jisv77LgU5G6iBNNnfUSRA9bMpCF-xrtbYJjpAAWi1ewoZYDGDPoNnAW2369vVTue5mizt6NUvWRk2-kJFvcS3J4ON5ayiLA-LKp-kn8Lh59Jln2aY5wr8_Y5DtbfYSvEEgQiBvNrMO0-Dp3fHojA3h7iREHcCUM/s320/Maasai%20Village.jpg"/></a></div>
The biggest tourist trap in the Maasai Mara was the visit to a Maasai village. It was a real village where people lived their lives, but some of them also put on a show for the tourists that they would have never done if we had not been there. It was interesting, and a bit like a Disney show at the same time.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ8ldbHoEIhTsea8BVM8JbpbpVRvv1JTlD0Rdjc62cfNU3be-7FoIoIIofLW3T3CR_3_snvLsx4G1t5DzHK8XkBXoz3tT2MNrkab2lmbbDjMY2A486zyAjfAxsqXo8BKLVo1W0mo1bgQB8yILPTLAF7NRwdM2Zl3fbaqo7feLMOQ4UwurEDUQmyMwQSQg/s1280/lake%20victoria2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ8ldbHoEIhTsea8BVM8JbpbpVRvv1JTlD0Rdjc62cfNU3be-7FoIoIIofLW3T3CR_3_snvLsx4G1t5DzHK8XkBXoz3tT2MNrkab2lmbbDjMY2A486zyAjfAxsqXo8BKLVo1W0mo1bgQB8yILPTLAF7NRwdM2Zl3fbaqo7feLMOQ4UwurEDUQmyMwQSQg/s320/lake%20victoria2.jpg"/></a></div><center>A small corner of Lake Victoria</center>
<br>
Near the end of my time at the Maasai Mara, we were driving around the western edge of the Serengeti when Edgar said he had a surprise for me. We drove out of the Ndabaka Gate and kept heading west. Before I knew it, there was a large body of water in front of us. We were at the southeastern foot of Lake Victoria, on the Tanzania side.
<br><br>
Lake Victoria was on my original list of places I want to go. Most people reach the lake from Kampala or Entebbe on the Uganda side or Mwanza or Bukoba on the Tanzania side. We were at least 100km east of Mwanza, where pretty much no one goes. I could tell it was not one of the more popular parts of the lake since Edgar and I were the only people there. While the view was limited and 90% of the lake was around the corner, it was nice not to share it with a thousand tourists.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGDre-juBAGbkmg8c2hbylr_1T9kkgvHgBl0B1ykOHhUoaQ_gB6HuO9CYNEB10wk_HwyZyM4wyYlXavOn5WlMEHV0BAgN-rrAbXoRC-8xu3Wr3WDqP6xL16Wd_ZBZJwbHD07mCDgi-P3q-W1GxeOmaEaTiI1bBzInCUe4Qw4T20PiAHi6VjNIWNGom6mU/s2400/serengeti3.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1120" data-original-width="2400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGDre-juBAGbkmg8c2hbylr_1T9kkgvHgBl0B1ykOHhUoaQ_gB6HuO9CYNEB10wk_HwyZyM4wyYlXavOn5WlMEHV0BAgN-rrAbXoRC-8xu3Wr3WDqP6xL16Wd_ZBZJwbHD07mCDgi-P3q-W1GxeOmaEaTiI1bBzInCUe4Qw4T20PiAHi6VjNIWNGom6mU/s320/serengeti3.JPG"/></a></div>
One of the great benefits to sleeping in the parks was that I could start my day as early as Edgar was willing and I did not have to leave before the gates closed. Sunrise and sunset are when most of the animals are most active. Kruger was great, and large enough to see something new every day, but the gate times were extremely limiting. Spending the night inside the Mara/Amboseli/Lake Nakuru meant watching brilliant sunrises and sunsets over the savannah/mountain/lake instead of over R40 back to Hazyview.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HVhLVWyc7WGUhUORv179cXT3RnEVTlmYhbLQh9fwkvkUlCtgfA1_3saEGuwnta5M39qMVd7gUwmsvnqLfVkcdIQPyqKSUb_7wzrLj7Ru0lTxsAhxxOjckj45Lyfy9NkbcOJfHhr_jVv4PRZuRUccYhvlTGwJ5lPWnYDRR9F1zfmS_0ANgeEFilN5oIc/s2400/serengeti%20zebra.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2181" data-original-width="2400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HVhLVWyc7WGUhUORv179cXT3RnEVTlmYhbLQh9fwkvkUlCtgfA1_3saEGuwnta5M39qMVd7gUwmsvnqLfVkcdIQPyqKSUb_7wzrLj7Ru0lTxsAhxxOjckj45Lyfy9NkbcOJfHhr_jVv4PRZuRUccYhvlTGwJ5lPWnYDRR9F1zfmS_0ANgeEFilN5oIc/s320/serengeti%20zebra.jpg"/></a></div>
I am glad my last national park was the Maasai Mara/Serengeti. I liked Amboseli a great deal, but the Mara/Serengeti was more magical. It was easily one of the best places I have ever experienced anywhere in the world.
<br><br>
But I never spotted a leopard.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijh5M0aCwRV0tT_LQGnsqhhK4DM2jx2-NEmw2Ug2ikTWb48F3dn4Vq9b05MSpP3dtIIKJ-qqHIxSymqOpITzHy5_tPViXuhbVIGyMze6k3wuVQR5MlSFS5mvoj5oLTEllIH6rbRoxRlvQrnw4tGB45BF9KzfO72t40SqFgGSew6GinKcDbq7-oaP-DzQo/s2601/serengeti1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="2601" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijh5M0aCwRV0tT_LQGnsqhhK4DM2jx2-NEmw2Ug2ikTWb48F3dn4Vq9b05MSpP3dtIIKJ-qqHIxSymqOpITzHy5_tPViXuhbVIGyMze6k3wuVQR5MlSFS5mvoj5oLTEllIH6rbRoxRlvQrnw4tGB45BF9KzfO72t40SqFgGSew6GinKcDbq7-oaP-DzQo/s320/serengeti1.jpg"/></a></div><center>The Serengeti</center>Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-91439387577923665542023-04-06T06:07:00.022+08:002023-04-06T13:27:37.548+08:00African Tour:Lake Nakuru National Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_trh_inLXTtC7PqJisVWNcE3RCT9LvbOODglVassMhRDyUkZ43DeGJNebFfgVnpZr6DGSw_B03WuAG0__9ADRRIiTKuNJHqGtmwRlbbsECQ3OQ-x2zPflypT3oz7MNLqyFeBnbTohzTLL7Pm76_DS0KJO7ffdspFcRPdZWe3YS_KYW93JyX9NvFVv/s1920/lake%20nakuru%20flamingos1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_trh_inLXTtC7PqJisVWNcE3RCT9LvbOODglVassMhRDyUkZ43DeGJNebFfgVnpZr6DGSw_B03WuAG0__9ADRRIiTKuNJHqGtmwRlbbsECQ3OQ-x2zPflypT3oz7MNLqyFeBnbTohzTLL7Pm76_DS0KJO7ffdspFcRPdZWe3YS_KYW93JyX9NvFVv/s320/lake%20nakuru%20flamingos1.jpg"/></a></div>
From Amboseli, Edgar drove me north to Lake Nakuru National Park. This was our single longest drive together outside of any park. The distance between the two is over 350km. It took a little over six hours. For the first half of the drive, I stretched out in the back of the van. During the second half, I stuck my head out the roof. This was also the closest I came to the equator. Lake Nakuru is just over 30km from the equator. Everything else in Kenya was at least 150km south of Lake Nakuru, and South Africa is nowhere near the equator.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5h5OVHQUHnrykZa85g6rY1yKTPhS6eJAGy2V5ugfXsiY7vSQa-paH0RhPO5nvbMJEPsQ3Akdz7Ox9WxEDS0xLodSDoGCAPtYCTcT3c02cWWtOe8k0yNSSG3MMlPrT0T9lj1eE0zhVhyAA7BpLHWCg05uNNRFhDqnefj1wUEVeLqjJyvA0pQEaieC/s2000/great%20rift%20valley.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1252" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5h5OVHQUHnrykZa85g6rY1yKTPhS6eJAGy2V5ugfXsiY7vSQa-paH0RhPO5nvbMJEPsQ3Akdz7Ox9WxEDS0xLodSDoGCAPtYCTcT3c02cWWtOe8k0yNSSG3MMlPrT0T9lj1eE0zhVhyAA7BpLHWCg05uNNRFhDqnefj1wUEVeLqjJyvA0pQEaieC/s320/great%20rift%20valley.jpg"/></a></div>
The Great Rift Valley cuts all the way through Kenya. At Amboseli, and even Nairobi, the roads are more or less flat. The highest peak in Amboseli is 30 meters, which is a little ironic when you consider that most people associate the park with Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest mountain in Africa. If you drive west of Nairobi, you hit the Great Rift Valley and the scenery gets a lot more interesting.
<br><br>
During the drive, we took a break on the side of a cliff. Edgar said it was so I could admire the scenery. I think he just needed a break from driving. We sat on rocks in silence while I stared at the valley with an ice cold Pepsi. It was a short break and nothing happened, but it was one of those nice little moments in life.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnz9_U7MfSL5rWQwAxdUD3QokGpgwFofpUtXffrHHZCLP1Jv2FbP13x1zX6tblw5p7skZs9OLR7rfKEChqX7pqtoZCDcAFqIwngtB0M4q_30qjbCjTEiovdQ1_sjdg2TrxMfEkLt22d3YaJkQvDoQH6EelyabgsUYmBDc88ktbHgUBBb2Ji9A-Bbxv/s2048/lake%20nakuru.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnz9_U7MfSL5rWQwAxdUD3QokGpgwFofpUtXffrHHZCLP1Jv2FbP13x1zX6tblw5p7skZs9OLR7rfKEChqX7pqtoZCDcAFqIwngtB0M4q_30qjbCjTEiovdQ1_sjdg2TrxMfEkLt22d3YaJkQvDoQH6EelyabgsUYmBDc88ktbHgUBBb2Ji9A-Bbxv/s320/lake%20nakuru.jpg"/></a></div>
Lake Nakuru National Park was the smallest park I went to, maybe even the smallest national park in Kenya. While every other park or reserve was out in the wilderness, Lake Nakuru is practically a suburb of Nairobi, completely surrounded by civilization. If it were not a protected national park, all the animals would be gone and the lake would probably be dry by now. The lake itself is about the same size as Pelican Lake in Northern Minnesota. The park is a small ring around the lake. Since no rivers touch the lake, its size depends on how much rain it gets.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyBPnnc-9--XnC3i_VgLKSqdFzKNF6VdogcIngMl6l0c4qe-Ew4bjwmNXZeBuoaX8kvabKOdn1TlAXahPNqk4CJL5ztZzVCeigTNJRLORNn14IpOZpMa08Hl8FjpcYeA-MAC4-zVCoY8QcuiqXlEkY4u43FG-8PGrzP-j_Wycrczkmcv3HTiZZUQi/s1600/lake%20nakuru%20rhino.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1062" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyBPnnc-9--XnC3i_VgLKSqdFzKNF6VdogcIngMl6l0c4qe-Ew4bjwmNXZeBuoaX8kvabKOdn1TlAXahPNqk4CJL5ztZzVCeigTNJRLORNn14IpOZpMa08Hl8FjpcYeA-MAC4-zVCoY8QcuiqXlEkY4u43FG-8PGrzP-j_Wycrczkmcv3HTiZZUQi/s320/lake%20nakuru%20rhino.jpg"/></a></div>
The main attraction at Lake Nakuru are the million flamingos that migrate for the algae. It is also one of the easiest places to spot rhinos. Lake Nakuru has 70 white and 25 black rhinos. Kruger has larger numbers, but they are spread out over a much larger area. Lake Nakuru's rhinos graze out in the open. If you drive around the lake, you are going to see rhinos.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsghnv9v1Ck4Twdj8DIE9PTozsrOglYK-2nSwe2k_STVDRm3MQUekshqILdGL1Wb1gXsJSsxmXlJu5rpgwWZ4Hw12Z9ViDYytXqXvd5YepiBoGyHduuNlyRI0vP3wy1ssh5YXx06W6cHoINsi3oqkiXsw_AAQSqq-ChJPAAf9lvPVhmHxMQOUCBxw/s1231/Lake%20Nakuru%20Lodge1.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="1231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsghnv9v1Ck4Twdj8DIE9PTozsrOglYK-2nSwe2k_STVDRm3MQUekshqILdGL1Wb1gXsJSsxmXlJu5rpgwWZ4Hw12Z9ViDYytXqXvd5YepiBoGyHduuNlyRI0vP3wy1ssh5YXx06W6cHoINsi3oqkiXsw_AAQSqq-ChJPAAf9lvPVhmHxMQOUCBxw/s320/Lake%20Nakuru%20Lodge1.jpeg"/></a></div>
I spent two nights at Lake Nakuru Lodge. That did not sound like enough time to me at first, but Lake Nakuru is pretty small. You can easily drive around the entire park in a day. An extra day is good to make more stops, and when you include the beginning of the day before you arrive and the end of the day after you leave, one day would not be enough.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP19nt5p0kbGkDuikEqq1axPu321VDa2ephiPzidj3Bw_k01BOMA9K0AgTgbutOriANTfXH8xgzIL0OhSUEq4oRfGBuWpiSsUXYVqx_ioKywIiv300zZVU7criDEAgggt8cYh2T2PCW-bGFRiyvvs175AVuk8t5_vrbvsbBeeWrEygsdmNBCnJ7BuU/s1200/Lake%20Nakuru%20lodge2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP19nt5p0kbGkDuikEqq1axPu321VDa2ephiPzidj3Bw_k01BOMA9K0AgTgbutOriANTfXH8xgzIL0OhSUEq4oRfGBuWpiSsUXYVqx_ioKywIiv300zZVU7criDEAgggt8cYh2T2PCW-bGFRiyvvs175AVuk8t5_vrbvsbBeeWrEygsdmNBCnJ7BuU/s320/Lake%20Nakuru%20lodge2.jpg"/></a></div>
Lake Nakuru Lodge was more or less the same as Ol Tukai, only much smaller and cheaper looking. The main building, lobby, and restaurant were smaller, though the gift shop was larger. It was harder to tell where most of the guest rooms were, but I really did not care. Once again, I was in a small cottage away from the main building. Instead of a front patio, these cottages had tiny balconies in the back. The views were not as good, but at least they faced the park. The Ol Tukai cottage was larger and nicer, but I spent most of my time awake and out of the room anyway. The one thing the Lake Nakuru Lodge had over Ol Tukai was the swimming pool. Lake Nakuru Lodge's swimming pool was bigger and better. More importantly, it has a jacuzzi. Relaxing in bubbling water is always a good idea after a long day of driving around, no matter where in the world you are.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrbemVdeQdZjl1Yxfh9e_JF2P6eDGL98eFE6pPbQkmuByTnPRHTlgmCTSRggunYU3YO9XdoY1isZTvwc931WAItidl6dauMDuReqgibM_QuatgIeiHvEYWk1EYaPyXpLQzospZQDwBkI_seM59otMn6NcDGKLBxrGbzfj3MgVVpUxoseubw4JNZtC/s1920/Lake%20Nakuru%20animals.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrbemVdeQdZjl1Yxfh9e_JF2P6eDGL98eFE6pPbQkmuByTnPRHTlgmCTSRggunYU3YO9XdoY1isZTvwc931WAItidl6dauMDuReqgibM_QuatgIeiHvEYWk1EYaPyXpLQzospZQDwBkI_seM59otMn6NcDGKLBxrGbzfj3MgVVpUxoseubw4JNZtC/s320/Lake%20Nakuru%20animals.jpg"/></a></div>
Everyone goes to Lake Nakuru for the flamingos, and there are plenty of them. The lake also attracts thousands of pelicans, storks, and other birds. As the only real source of water in the park, all the animals go to the lake. Compared to other national parks and reserves in Kenya, Lake Nakuru is a little unimpressive. But it is the easiest place to see a wide variety of animals all gathered together in one place. Everyone spreads out in the larger parks. At Lake Nakuru, they are all at the same lake.
<br><br>
The most unusual thing that happened at Lake Nakuru was when a cop asked us for a bribe. We were driving away from the lake when a park ranger stopped us. The ranger got out of his jeep, came up to the van, and looked at me for a while. He never asked me for ID or even spoke to me at all. He wrote something in his notepad and told Edgar to get out of the van. It was almost like a traffic stop, except we were driving slowly on a dirt road in the middle of a national park with absolutely no traffic whatsoever.
<br><br>
Edgar and the ranger had a conversation well out of my earshot. Not that I would have understood their language anyway. When Edgar came back to the van, we drove away as if nothing had happened. When I asked him what that was all about, he calmly told me that the ranger wanted a bribe. The way he said it was more than a little sad. It was just another day at the office to Edgar. I wondered if Edgar's company budgeted for such things or if he had to pay out of his own pocket. I also wondered if such a thing was as common as I suspected. I never asked Edgar about it because I did not want to embarrass him. This was his country and these were his people. I also know that my country is a glass house, so maybe I should not throw any stones.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdJtIw3L7i0COqCZspYYrNU4wvPr3qYwQ0ZAZGuUCsQf8XxYIEONVLfec36DFOIlq5O7EIvjLBWLBBLq3bKM3tj-CTISb-KrQ6p12Mh9VP2yHv7VvY0krEJ0BuZmxgaMaAlc5pd1ns4a5hdmP1DEl2dQrL_JfiSZTZytxJ70c34zYLv0o8CeUCQrJ/s1536/lake%20nakuru%20flamingos2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdJtIw3L7i0COqCZspYYrNU4wvPr3qYwQ0ZAZGuUCsQf8XxYIEONVLfec36DFOIlq5O7EIvjLBWLBBLq3bKM3tj-CTISb-KrQ6p12Mh9VP2yHv7VvY0krEJ0BuZmxgaMaAlc5pd1ns4a5hdmP1DEl2dQrL_JfiSZTZytxJ70c34zYLv0o8CeUCQrJ/s320/lake%20nakuru%20flamingos2.jpg"/></a></div>
Lake Nakuru is worth a visit, but it really is more of a bird lover's paradise than anything else. I have nothing against birds, but I am not especially interested in them either. Phil and Margi, the owners of the Blue Jay Lodge in Hazyview were big bird fans. Maybe not Big Bird fans, but bird enthusiasts. They were always trying to tell us the best places to spot this or that bird. I think they would love Lake Nakuru.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-14197299333653210392023-03-28T06:14:00.002+08:002023-03-29T17:25:29.690+08:00African Tour:Amboseli National Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHEIS3ENJ4tRi0uNojVUOKA4Q5nx42fiVkU2SdhtGSnZ9jt8w4wb5U3eZS9wBUw3Tn6kgQvdxTf1XW5nUiulniGMUbvyFPqOWHPkzBcq28_KBNkLk37OvWIncLd4-cG2VcvPwBfxQye8Uso1fuo_i1UPgZ2jYwnMkFJWLij1iY3XcvipGZnE-d2tE/s1920/Amboseli%20Elephants2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHEIS3ENJ4tRi0uNojVUOKA4Q5nx42fiVkU2SdhtGSnZ9jt8w4wb5U3eZS9wBUw3Tn6kgQvdxTf1XW5nUiulniGMUbvyFPqOWHPkzBcq28_KBNkLk37OvWIncLd4-cG2VcvPwBfxQye8Uso1fuo_i1UPgZ2jYwnMkFJWLij1iY3XcvipGZnE-d2tE/s320/Amboseli%20Elephants2.jpg"/></a></div>
Four hours south of Nairobi, our first stop was Amboseli National Park. About the size of Denver, Amboseli is pretty small compared to other national parks. Kruger National Park is more than fifty times larger. But Amboseli has something Kruger and Denver never will. Not only is it one of the best places in the world to see a couple thousand elephants in the wild, it also has the best views of Mount Kilimanjaro. The mountain is in Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, but the view from that side looks nothing like the famous view from Amboseli.
<br><br>
Since Mount Kilimanjaro is a volcano, it is flanked by volcanic rock that has been feeding the ample vegetation that feeds all the animals in the area. The ice cap also provides an almost endless supply of fresh water. Lake Amboseli only has water during the rainy season, but the entire park is pretty much a swamp. Animals need not gather at one place to drink, which is much safer for most of them.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGAdMcW1LLWHpdkm2etROCO40-vNvYS4jD8X9ZNiaKwEpwBVThpyNckvoU80lGiNbBLAwi3yRK9s6CKZUh_ou6RKY0Nes4sUOsDdsYRhe2ftHvJiMQG4wuDie_OSvBW1koW5pwANOs_IPElEQyXLgtVm_rM6oE_cAZeAMdD0Jroar3N5dc5LvpZpm0/s1280/ol%20tukai.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGAdMcW1LLWHpdkm2etROCO40-vNvYS4jD8X9ZNiaKwEpwBVThpyNckvoU80lGiNbBLAwi3yRK9s6CKZUh_ou6RKY0Nes4sUOsDdsYRhe2ftHvJiMQG4wuDie_OSvBW1koW5pwANOs_IPElEQyXLgtVm_rM6oE_cAZeAMdD0Jroar3N5dc5LvpZpm0/s320/ol%20tukai.jpg"/></a></div>
I spent four nights at the Ol Tukai Lodge. The main building had a lobby, gift shop, and a large two story restaurant with scenic views from any seat around the outer edge. There were some standard hotel rooms near the main building. I stayed in one of the small cottages on the outskirts of the property. From the cottage patio, I could sit and watch the elephants walk along the fence line. There was an electric fence around the perimeter of the lodge that, while practically invisible, kept out the elephants and most mammals. Except baboons. They do whatever they want to do. The lodge also had a swimming pool that was not all that impressive. I never really had time for a swim anyway. The lodge was not exactly in the middle of the park, but Amboseli was small enough that driving from one end to the other did not take long.
<br><br>
My first day at Amboseli was short since we had to drive in from Nairobi. Edgar drove me to the lodge and helped me check in, which was unnecessary. Everyone who worked at Ol Tukai spoke English. Then he disappeared for a while so I could settle in and have lunch. I never asked him where he went when he was gone. That was none of my business. Right on time, he picked me up and we went out for an afternoon drive.
<br><br>
Like most game parks, mornings and evenings were the best times at Amboseli. Afternoons were best spent taking a break at the lodge. But I had only just arrived. I wanted to experience this new environment. Edgar seemed just as excited to show me everything as I was to see it. Up to this point, I only knew him as a driver. He wanted to show off his animal tracking skills.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEf60hp688Pu0rPpzdxBzaUMSZFFd3Ibq8nvjYkJLEEkMksPTGlUmNvK5aXGNHg7O8m5sTyBBq9E1D4wF9oAFIiGE6pZ6-udVvKsazi_nG4LEuIZmnWyQ5LlUES3Opa5aJ6CBmOgIRqGeB5Z9V37dqeZCQ0ZtCNn8HePoMOunpNL9RLma0779DMTcv/s1461/amboseli%20gazelle.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="822" data-original-width="1461" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEf60hp688Pu0rPpzdxBzaUMSZFFd3Ibq8nvjYkJLEEkMksPTGlUmNvK5aXGNHg7O8m5sTyBBq9E1D4wF9oAFIiGE6pZ6-udVvKsazi_nG4LEuIZmnWyQ5LlUES3Opa5aJ6CBmOgIRqGeB5Z9V37dqeZCQ0ZtCNn8HePoMOunpNL9RLma0779DMTcv/s320/amboseli%20gazelle.jpg"/></a></div>
Since Amboseli is the premier site to see elephants, it was only appropriate that my first dramatic animal encounter was with an elephant. We were in the van watching a group of gazelles when Edgar noticed two rather large male elephants walking toward our general direction. They were more than a few yards away and we were not directly in their path, but Edgar decided to back the van up a little just to give them plenty of space. As soon as we moved, the elephant in the front turned so that we would be directly in their path. He was not moving quickly or displaying any aggression, but he clearly altered his path on purpose. When Edgar backed up even further, the elephant changed course again. Edgar thought he wanted to show us who was boss. What the elephant never knew was that we had no intention of challenging him. Edgar was prepared to back that van up as far as it took. Wherever we were, that was where he wanted to be. When the giant elephant got close enough to charge us, Edgar simply drove away. As long as we were parked, we would always be in his way. By leaving, we let him know he won.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vsjkXUcFn5PBx3KT6g8zKA3WVox-llvvk8rmkyXcLw6yysHLjNxNEsNxGdqZAS-KNQDoZ6XHGwkVGmeWfk19-tpSVn0BX8MD3Et_EtNIFeq0jcvj-999id7aoIJK3o47HQR4JnHxTFUTUHQfNjbGONQeEIK4-nSZQmKDR8ur-jXEJ95brWL0Gv-e/s1500/amboseli%20elephants1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="950" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vsjkXUcFn5PBx3KT6g8zKA3WVox-llvvk8rmkyXcLw6yysHLjNxNEsNxGdqZAS-KNQDoZ6XHGwkVGmeWfk19-tpSVn0BX8MD3Et_EtNIFeq0jcvj-999id7aoIJK3o47HQR4JnHxTFUTUHQfNjbGONQeEIK4-nSZQmKDR8ur-jXEJ95brWL0Gv-e/s320/amboseli%20elephants1.jpg"/></a></div>
Finding elephants was easy. They were everywhere. I could look out the window of my cottage and sooner or later a group of elephants would walk past. I wanted to see a leopard. I have no particular interest in leopards, but I saw the rest of the Big Five at Kruger. Edgar's mission was to find me a leopard, though he warned me that afternoon was the worst possible time. We would be more likely to see one the next morning or maybe later that evening.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghogGAEx-dchQVhoyLOsIDq1Lq-TC6647HrY5_BLD4eXHPfkrnJfH6q2ZZ-8mxyYJUUFCyeVmAxD2SKggCxpOo-A7bJkNMkufDB9ljJgtJmHiydKbLJQMMaSnr0kFgQWHmXU_AgnQ8KFkRxFMcV3smHBSISfzz1_X3QQfqhqYwbGrc-fMRsMsbBkM8/s1200/amboseli%20animals.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghogGAEx-dchQVhoyLOsIDq1Lq-TC6647HrY5_BLD4eXHPfkrnJfH6q2ZZ-8mxyYJUUFCyeVmAxD2SKggCxpOo-A7bJkNMkufDB9ljJgtJmHiydKbLJQMMaSnr0kFgQWHmXU_AgnQ8KFkRxFMcV3smHBSISfzz1_X3QQfqhqYwbGrc-fMRsMsbBkM8/s320/amboseli%20animals.jpg"/></a></div>
While we saw no leopards that afternoon, we came across a few prides of lions, a gang of buffalo, a cackle of hyenas, a confusion of wildebeest, a couple coalitions of cheetahs, a few herds of impalas, several towers of giraffes, multiple zeals of zebras, and more elephants than I could count. The predators were mostly napping, so the herbivores used the afternoon lull to go about their business.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCuiKmNFB9ity5B-d20p1sqNgd0LKMgIUYK5gpFsJ_xhtivVkDDG3yGVk8eenlPigE_pMSYSG7PMYiVdTJU4VAW1pVJOON22Nu-qeOAZKfUKn7dnYscgcv6A-IHWAmVBjSuJ2aaZjkBjJfrFwtfSKOoJqLNFZGLUknXPny9OWbeX3MXEkUi85JxuR/s1600/amboseli%20giraffe.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCuiKmNFB9ity5B-d20p1sqNgd0LKMgIUYK5gpFsJ_xhtivVkDDG3yGVk8eenlPigE_pMSYSG7PMYiVdTJU4VAW1pVJOON22Nu-qeOAZKfUKn7dnYscgcv6A-IHWAmVBjSuJ2aaZjkBjJfrFwtfSKOoJqLNFZGLUknXPny9OWbeX3MXEkUi85JxuR/s320/amboseli%20giraffe.jpg"/></a></div>
Near the beginning of my leopard quest, we were driving around the savannah when Edgar said he might have spotted a leopard lying in the tall grass under a tree on the ridge over in the distance. He pointed and I could barely see the tree. I thought he was just trying to make himself look good. There was no way he could see anything that far away. We drove to the ridge and the tree became more obvious. It was still impossible to see if anything was in the grass. He slowed down when we got close and told me that the leopard must have run away. Yeah, right. The camouflaged leopard that he magically saw lying down just happened to leave right before we got there. Then he pointed out how the grass under the tree was flattened, as if something had been lying there. He also showed me the fresh claw marks on the tree. I got less skeptical pretty quickly. Obviously, something had been there. Maybe not a leopard, but whatever it was, Edgar saw it from a respectable distance.
<br><br>
In addition to his excellent eyesight, Edgar used his phone to keep in contact with other guides throughout the park. They all let each other know where to find something interesting, right after they showed their customers first.
<br><br>
One of the benefits to sleeping in the park was that I could be there before the gates opened in the morning and after they closed at night. We would take full advantage of that on other days, but Edgar thought we should take it easy on the first day. I had flown in from Dar es Salaam, which is not all that far, and we had driven from Nairobi. It was a bit of a long day. He was also mindful of how much and how often my people like to eat. I tried to explain that I do not need three jumbo meals each day, but he knew that I was American. He wanted to make sure I was back at the lodge before they stopped serving dinner.
<br><br>
The Ol Tukai Lodge was also used to dealing with western foreigners. There was always more than enough food for everyone. Though in the heart of East Africa, the menu was more intercontinental than anything else, with nothing too unfamiliar to North Americans and Western Europeans. They had a wide array of alcohol available at the small bar that could be taken or delivered anywhere on the property, and more than a few signs warning guests not to feed the monkeys.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YpAbqEcsfIhtFOJ9zoxtFbFCSUpdcHJARTCrbdv444xLFBZzx0l3WoZybDLCsVUcJDdnf_rgDHzJzSwuMVJ055Hu6pxY5DVQnYrD-qADsS-jkERlgAFNgsRSdALs0HHluYUf6kEy5KneYRk0pHuQuQArEA6SmwlxwbzOq09mFHQbNsyrTU_P9tkn/s2048/nightsky.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1367" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YpAbqEcsfIhtFOJ9zoxtFbFCSUpdcHJARTCrbdv444xLFBZzx0l3WoZybDLCsVUcJDdnf_rgDHzJzSwuMVJ055Hu6pxY5DVQnYrD-qADsS-jkERlgAFNgsRSdALs0HHluYUf6kEy5KneYRk0pHuQuQArEA6SmwlxwbzOq09mFHQbNsyrTU_P9tkn/s320/nightsky.jpg"/></a></div>
That first night at Amboseli was the first time I really noticed the night sky. I had been in the Southern Hemisphere ever since we landed in Johannesburg, but most of that time was spent in cities. Even at Kruger, we were generally indoors and asleep by the time it got truly dark. After dinner at Amboseli, I sat with a drink on my cottage patio and looked up at the stars. There was little point in looking out to the savannah since it was pitch dark. There were elephants out there. I could hear them. But I could not even see the fence line, let alone all the animals on the other side, The sky was the only thing visible beyond the lodge lights. I have never been much of an expert when it comes to astronomy, but I could always find the Big Dipper. Until this night. There was also no North Star, though the Southern Cross was clear as day. Or night. It occurred to me that I did not even know the names of any Southern Hemisphere constellations. Everything I have ever heard about the constellations has always been about what is visible from the Northern Hemisphere.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERG13OOmOiAJVcQw7UAgb6QouTYfHSSxpBYAZrTKlN1Awm1dZzWe9BdYO-EwVskjpTleZpEVy7rvCxzxb6tYmtu6re-heb4fGcvGsucERJ3Ywmy4_MDMVRR2XJVj6K2rFHK98YbhQjRjrqscx9cstpwcTxefYbTQNu_B2EvCAvFDrJlgCMCJ8-Z1L/s1920/amboseli%20lion.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERG13OOmOiAJVcQw7UAgb6QouTYfHSSxpBYAZrTKlN1Awm1dZzWe9BdYO-EwVskjpTleZpEVy7rvCxzxb6tYmtu6re-heb4fGcvGsucERJ3Ywmy4_MDMVRR2XJVj6K2rFHK98YbhQjRjrqscx9cstpwcTxefYbTQNu_B2EvCAvFDrJlgCMCJ8-Z1L/s320/amboseli%20lion.jpg"/></a></div>
Our first full day at Amboseli started early in the morning. That was fine with me. Edgar seemed to be as much of a morning person as I was. Or at least he faked it well when he was on the clock. While driving around, he got a call from one of his guide friends that some lions were hunting a wildebeest. This was exactly the sort of thing you could only see in the early morning and evening hours, and what most visitors wanted to see. I never really understood that part. I was there to see the animals as much as the next person, but I had no particular interest in watching them eat each other. Lions frolicking in nature were always more interesting to me than lions gorging on breakfast.
<br><br>
Edgar rushed us to the hunt site. By the time we got there, the money shot was over. I saw a pride of lions feast on a wildebeest carcass. Edgar was a little confused when I did not take any pictures. Next to a dramatic kill shot, this was what the tourists wanted to see. I told him that I wanted to experience the environment, not any specific event. He suddenly realized that his job just got a lot easier. If only he could find a leopard.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pJ5dQx4vqAsN0_Pf8jY4dwPto0ECOMH-YmAYfHgVtEfhCR55XIkzVrfRHLWkmU6YtetQ_DPBwqoYv34SBPKp3Itja65FvCwOGPUDe29Rctowb2wUkJuwfS1z5lEUisQQ2QGieDlBOteOOCqzR8Z2Yx9hd0lOHGE9BPTRdJu1Jnc3WtFyOsgzPvbV/s1500/amboseli%20kilimanjaro.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="998" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pJ5dQx4vqAsN0_Pf8jY4dwPto0ECOMH-YmAYfHgVtEfhCR55XIkzVrfRHLWkmU6YtetQ_DPBwqoYv34SBPKp3Itja65FvCwOGPUDe29Rctowb2wUkJuwfS1z5lEUisQQ2QGieDlBOteOOCqzR8Z2Yx9hd0lOHGE9BPTRdJu1Jnc3WtFyOsgzPvbV/s320/amboseli%20kilimanjaro.jpg"/></a></div>
By lunchtime, we were nowhere near the lodge. Edgar gave me two options. He could drive me back to the lodge for lunch, where I could take a break from the afternoon heat, or we could have a bit of a picnic and make it a full day. I was out and about and saw no reason to stop, so we ate lunch under an acacia tree. He kept a cooler in the van, from which we ate yogurt and cheese. He also had a bag of bread and other snacks. The highlight of lunch was an ice cold Pepsi. He had Pepsi in the cooler because I bought myself one when we stopped at a local grocery store on the drive from Nairobi to Amboseli. I am not a big Pepsi fan, but the store's selection was limited. They only had a few drinks and even fewer were chilled. I wanted a cold drink. A bottle of Pepsi was the easiest option. From that moment on, Edgar made sure to keep ice cold Pepsi on hand.
<br><br>
The ice cold part is important. It got a little warm on the savannah in the middle of the day. Several people warned me that it would be hot at Amboseli and all the other game parks during the rainy season. Since it was the rainy season, it might also be a little humid, though it was never going to rain every day. But I live in Taiwan. Kenya humidity is nothing by comparison, and the temperature never went above 30 degrees. The biggest adjustment was how much it dropped at night. In Taiwan, hot days lead to warm nights. In Kenya, cold nights were more than possible.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNwDsNpFNz-dAPGdym9rga-msk53wo2XbcuqIuxrxs6p0QEZThyfHnDoxQD3Aphv3Q90CzssramQy7kSi0SJITOaspiiD8E-g1eWx3e8-mRlWc9nZ74GTJMfOS_bUW9deT0mxwtrwoyCTWoAuf_8YKXb0aJKS2aXhJoAFuywdrxV3y8AtoK62zCVP/s2280/Amboseli%20Elephants3_Diana%20Robinson.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="2280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNwDsNpFNz-dAPGdym9rga-msk53wo2XbcuqIuxrxs6p0QEZThyfHnDoxQD3Aphv3Q90CzssramQy7kSi0SJITOaspiiD8E-g1eWx3e8-mRlWc9nZ74GTJMfOS_bUW9deT0mxwtrwoyCTWoAuf_8YKXb0aJKS2aXhJoAFuywdrxV3y8AtoK62zCVP/s320/Amboseli%20Elephants3_Diana%20Robinson.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Photograph by Diana Robinson</center>
<br>
As much as I liked Kruger, Amboseli quickly became my favorite national park. Having a professional guide made all the difference, as did sleeping inside the park. After the gates closed, we could still drive around. Spotting animals is far more difficult at night, but the park itself is beautiful during and right after the sun sets. After Edgar went home for the day, the lodge was large enough for a nighttime walk. I have no idea what Kruger sounds like in the middle of the night, but I can tell you that the animals of Amboseli never close. It was almost like camping, only with elephants and lions instead of crickets and owls.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-51887148820211137332023-03-23T06:20:00.004+08:002023-03-23T16:27:24.571+08:00African Tour:Nairobi Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSxv5xric2baifrU-YZCntCcg8V201TcJzQBwIkzWU0Exexl6df5IiRbiuAc_X4dDGtjGU4NOZ-ShrRxmVglpBQxPy9NvQ0MvHX_L5LAtKNubbcjHZS-m4WryPVVAK6lPb_ePcrHY0GENG1a3KVEtG5NgsdwZINyJiag39jj_w_ax7WS6ajneqyV7/s2000/NBO.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSxv5xric2baifrU-YZCntCcg8V201TcJzQBwIkzWU0Exexl6df5IiRbiuAc_X4dDGtjGU4NOZ-ShrRxmVglpBQxPy9NvQ0MvHX_L5LAtKNubbcjHZS-m4WryPVVAK6lPb_ePcrHY0GENG1a3KVEtG5NgsdwZINyJiag39jj_w_ax7WS6ajneqyV7/s320/NBO.jpeg"/></a></div>
<center>Jomo Kenyatta International Airport
<br>Nairobi, Kenya</center>
<br>
Dar es Salaam was the final leg of our big African Tour. Once finished, we all flew back to Nairobi. From Nairobi, everyone else flew out of Africa and slowly made their way east. I had other plans.
<br><br>
Kruger National Park was great, but it felt unfinished. Driving around on our own, we only saw bits and pieces. I knew right away that a trained professional could have shown us far more. Under most circumstances, I will always choose to go exploring rather than to take a guided tour. Where I live, tour guides spend more time at the gift shops than at whatever everyone is there to see. Most sights will never give a tour guide a percentage of sales. Plenty of nearby shops will.
<br><br>
Kenya has more than its fair share of national parks. It also has hundreds of registered companies that can show you around. Finding the right one probably takes a great deal of research. Unless you meet someone in Cape Town whose cousin is a safari guide licensed by the Kenya Wildlife Service. It only took one phone call for me to know this was the right guy. He knew what he was talking about and did not hesitate to tell me when my plans were unrealistic.
<br><br>
I had a list of places I wanted to see, including the Serengeti, the Maasai Mara, Tsavo East National Park, Amboseli National Park, Mount Kenya, and Lake Victoria. Edgar pointed out that seeing all of those places in one trip would take considerably more time than I had. He explained the travel times, how long I should stay at each place, and what I would see where.
<br><br>
We created a more realistic itinerary: Amboseli, Lake Nakuru, the Massai Mara, and Serengeti. From Nairobi, Amboseli is south, Lake Nakuru is north, the Massai Mara is west, and the Serengeti is southwest. The most logical course would be to drive in a big circle, but you have to take into consideration the best times to visit each park and how crowded they are going to be. Looking at a map, I would say it makes sense to go clockwise from Nairobi. That would make Lake Nakuru the last stop. Wisely, Edgar wanted the Serengeti to be the last park I saw. I also realized after the fact that making Amboseli the first stop was a brilliant move.
<br><br>
Edgar picked me up at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport just after five in the morning. My flight got in extra early because everyone else was taking another flight to Doha. He did not seem to mind the early hour. In fact, most of our time together would be spent earlier in the day rather than later. We were going to national parks. Just like Kruger, they all opened their gates around sunrise and closed at sunset. The difference this time was that I would be sleeping inside the parks. Edgar picked me up in the morning, drove me around all day, and dropped me off in the evening.
<br><br>
When we loaded my bags into his van, I wondered where everyone else was. In general, safari companies like to cram in as many people as possible, unless you pay extra for a private tour. I did not. But I got one anyway. That was my bonus for knowing his cousin. I loved the idea of not being in a crowd, but wondered if this was the kind of thing I should be doing alone. More often than not, I prefer to share life's more interesting experiences with other people. On the other hand, my travel companions at Kruger were kind of a pain in the ass. There are advantages to not wasting time doing something someone else wants to do or following their bathroom schedule. Since this turned out to be a private safari, I could do whatever I wanted, pending Edgar's advice.
<br><br>
I also wondered why we were in a van. I was expecting a jeep. Whenever you see pictures of people on safari, they are in a big, open jeep. Edgar took me everywhere in a white Toyota Hi Ace van. That turned out to be pretty convenient. It had a roof that popped up like a camper van, without the tent, so I could stand and get unobstructed views of everything. I could also stand and sing “Born To Be Wild” while driving through the savannah. Some of the drives between parks were a little long, but as the only passenger in a nine seat van, I had plenty of room to stretch out. The van also had more room than a jeep for my luggage. Unlike most people that Edgar picked up from the airport in Nairobi, I had just come from several other cities in Kenya and South Africa. I left as much of my luggage with the company as I could, but I still had more than I needed.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-42045779925461161272023-03-17T06:10:00.004+08:002023-03-17T12:25:07.730+08:00African Tour:Dar es Salaam<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCJBgj7PGLjsxVe7AhOnOsqxgtOxzICJihm3CEAiNLHEqwwQlYOqXTwKoZRRf_Rp2qL5aRFZT-qLhFu9hJSZGwB-EkzGuvg7O_Zi-6KKWkH2ewpJM25ofKToQYiv_29RwJyjiQkn0Zyl9C8RrkImyoXuc73UueSsS_yZ2156bZIeFtuNrnI5PCsnB/s1250/DAR.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="935" data-original-width="1250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCJBgj7PGLjsxVe7AhOnOsqxgtOxzICJihm3CEAiNLHEqwwQlYOqXTwKoZRRf_Rp2qL5aRFZT-qLhFu9hJSZGwB-EkzGuvg7O_Zi-6KKWkH2ewpJM25ofKToQYiv_29RwJyjiQkn0Zyl9C8RrkImyoXuc73UueSsS_yZ2156bZIeFtuNrnI5PCsnB/s320/DAR.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Julius Nyerere International Airport
<br>Dar es Salaam, Tanzania</center>
<br>
Before we got to know Mombasa, it was time to leave the country. We were scheduled to perform in Dar es Salaam, which is only 500km down the coast. For whatever reason, there are no flights from Mombasa to Dar es Salaam. We had to fly an hour northwest back to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi and catch a 90 minute flight southeast to Julius Nyerere International Airport in Dar es Salaam. It was a lot of effort for very little reward.
<br><br>
We all stayed at the Johari Rotana Hotel in the Kivukoni district near the city center. Normally, I would have been disappointed in a generic business hotel, but this was the end of the tour and we had experienced plenty of local flavor. I kind of liked the predictability. The hotel had a small outdoor swimming pool that I never used. One of the room's better features was the floor to ceiling window with sea views. If only my room was facing the Indian Ocean instead of the industrial harbor. It was still a better view than looking at the building next door. Just like today's Chinese hotels, my room had large bathroom windows so people in the bedroom could watch their roommates in the bathroom. I have no idea why anyone wants this. Maybe the designers think it romantic to watch someone take a shower, but people do a lot more in bathrooms than lather up. Luckily, we all had ample experience with Chinese hotels, so we knew how to work around it. Easily the best feature of the room was the jazuzzi bathtub. It was not especially large, but it had eight jets coming out from all directions. If I did not have a roommate, I would have spent far more time in that tub.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn9wgU60lgAON0n9jNFTy55ozK9bNSWqMHvBMgv9qaQKwLAT7QTgNlRye8AmOm-3qTTuGjMD_7WWIKC9kFWAJLy7pHRt3Hu36krl4L8dhmoMLhxyyNhtqxqXySXn9Fh8kzWFxmDH2YOjXQomOEkPcY_ZM2iNvJgBzlOU71w-wjvICwe2Ve_WifSiA/s1600/Makumbusho%20Village.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn9wgU60lgAON0n9jNFTy55ozK9bNSWqMHvBMgv9qaQKwLAT7QTgNlRye8AmOm-3qTTuGjMD_7WWIKC9kFWAJLy7pHRt3Hu36krl4L8dhmoMLhxyyNhtqxqXySXn9Fh8kzWFxmDH2YOjXQomOEkPcY_ZM2iNvJgBzlOU71w-wjvICwe2Ve_WifSiA/s320/Makumbusho%20Village.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Makumbusho Village</center>
<br>
The Makumbusho Village Museum in Kinondoni is a recreation of traditional villages from several different indigenous tribes. Though it looked nothing like any specific village, the houses were supposed to be authentic representations of each tribe. It all seemed a little too fake to me. There are probably genuine villages people can visit away from the city. The Ngoma dancers were pretty good, though. I did not mind how much that was staged for the tourists since rehearsed dance performances were our reason to be on the continent in the first place.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2Ai3wYtgiZCcavDLlw43Z5N8LynwSBF3WrpbiQoAkz2haT41-Tl_3bk6mU8TecQt_K9mx6IelM5i2ptSnZ8Xd0Hxg9irSOZqPirCW5YLZBFXLfvB4VzOSVT2Lv6wgjKf74A3yHGTxAqkr4CUsCMoNiFJQtbvqsOZ8IqPRER-40HuFxowNTyV8hYd/s1024/Kariakoo%20Market.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2Ai3wYtgiZCcavDLlw43Z5N8LynwSBF3WrpbiQoAkz2haT41-Tl_3bk6mU8TecQt_K9mx6IelM5i2ptSnZ8Xd0Hxg9irSOZqPirCW5YLZBFXLfvB4VzOSVT2Lv6wgjKf74A3yHGTxAqkr4CUsCMoNiFJQtbvqsOZ8IqPRER-40HuFxowNTyV8hYd/s320/Kariakoo%20Market.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Kariakoo Market</center>
<br>
The Kariakoo Market in Ilala is <i>the</i> outdoor market in Dar es Salaam. Like Mahane Yehuda in Jerusalem or Albert Cuypmarkt in Amsterdam, everyone seems to go there. While I can say nothing for the food, the textile shops on the south end of Jamhuri Street were useful. I know of no better place to buy kangas. The crowds made some of my colleagues a little nervous, which I found interesting, considering where they were from. The most uncomfortably crowded outdoor market I have ever been to anywhere in the world was the Fengshan night market in Kaohsiung on Christmas Day, which is not even a holiday in Taiwan. Kariakoo felt as empty as the Carrboro Farmer's Market in North Carolina by comparison.
<br><br>
Mlimani City in Ubongo is the largest shopping mall in Tanzania. Unfortunately, it looks like any urban shopping mall. I cannot even be bothered to find a picture of it. Some of my colleagues wanted to shop at the Game Supermarket because it was owned by Walmart. We have no Walmarts in Taiwan, so they were curious. I pointed out that the absence of Walmart is one of the best things about Taiwan. Not that it really mattered. While Walmart is a majority stakeholder in the company, Game is run by a South African grocery store chain. It was like any large South African grocery store and had no hillbillies shopping in questionable attire.
<br><br>
The most interesting part about our Mlimani City outing was that the South African company closed down its only Game outlet in Dar es Salaam right after we went and completely pulled out of Tanzania just after that. Had we gone any later, my colleagues would have never experienced a Walmart that was nothing like Walmart.
<br><br>
Zuane, near the US embassy in Kinondoni, is arguably the most authentic looking Italian restaurant in Dar es Salaam. At least that was what a lot of people said. I only went to one Italian restaurant in Dar es Salaam, so what do I know. Their pizzas looked pretty good and the mozzarella was obviously fresh. The person I went with said the ravioli was excellent. Taiwanese people are not the most discriminating connoisseurs when it comes to pasta, but ravioli is essentially dumplings. She knows Chinese dumplings, so who's to say she is not a good judge of Italian ravioli from Tanzania.
<br><br>
Hong Kong Tai Yong Sun Restaurant in Ilala is either the most authentic Cantonese cuisine in all of Dar es Salaam or all of Tanzania, depending who you ask. Oddly, no one said it was the most authentic in all of Africa. My colleagues, some of whom are originally from Guangdong, all of whom are intimately familiar with Cantonese food, were unimpressed.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlKZ1dXcGFJg7JUtPjDODyggev9NeMii1TZeh_dwaMWV-O-RotvJzAXH1uzpkPqolryizvJOFPfs5ChotVdjRjJtS5LzVViCn1foRB8THmYUYeuRhuWfqBQInFZafguLXSymfZ-5wvB96yCnLcZ_K23ZV5GsHtglFG4MVs96TyQyBtpPgNSZMkVyO/s2560/Azania%20Front.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlKZ1dXcGFJg7JUtPjDODyggev9NeMii1TZeh_dwaMWV-O-RotvJzAXH1uzpkPqolryizvJOFPfs5ChotVdjRjJtS5LzVViCn1foRB8THmYUYeuRhuWfqBQInFZafguLXSymfZ-5wvB96yCnLcZ_K23ZV5GsHtglFG4MVs96TyQyBtpPgNSZMkVyO/s320/Azania%20Front.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Azania Front Lutheran Church</center>
<br>
A few blocks from our hotel was the Azania Front Lutheran Church. There was nothing particularly special about the building or its history, but I often find myself near Lutheran churches in the least Christian places.
<br><br>
Our time in Nairobi and Mombasa felt entirely too short to me. As soon as we got used to waking up in strange beds, we were off to the next city. In Dar es Salaam, we did not even get a chance to get used to anything. We flew in Wednesday morning, checked in, went to work, spent two whole nights, and left Friday morning. And one of our days in Dar es Salaam was mostly spent in Zanzibar.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cCZcpfMzHicR-XkQ5_6BVbGi03fzvsTNdf_CbQu0xm-LXTwQpBkKAsxZSHqiaOgn6atqEjnBUjiK7LQ2AzClF-DKLQzON3zbJUzOu_SO1NVERHPRmK26FSaQ8SdZuFkYlilhNbnvXm0lJXY8lnUjIX-FvYU4Uvf9qjPaQlN08jKEOvo_SPDJh3_l/s1920/Stone%20Town.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cCZcpfMzHicR-XkQ5_6BVbGi03fzvsTNdf_CbQu0xm-LXTwQpBkKAsxZSHqiaOgn6atqEjnBUjiK7LQ2AzClF-DKLQzON3zbJUzOu_SO1NVERHPRmK26FSaQ8SdZuFkYlilhNbnvXm0lJXY8lnUjIX-FvYU4Uvf9qjPaQlN08jKEOvo_SPDJh3_l/s320/Stone%20Town.jpg"/></a></div>
On our last full day, we all caught the morning ferry to Zanzibar, did a show in Stone Town, and caught an evening ferry back to Dar es Salaam. The ferry ride was uneventful, except that everyone needed passports and went through immigration and customs. Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam are both in Tanzania, but Zanzibar has its own separate border control. It was almost like crossing the border from Shenzhen into Hong Kong, only with a lot of people speaking in unfamiliar languages. Going through immigration made the trip take a little longer since everyone was a foreigner, no matter which direction they were going.
<br><br>
Zanzibar is a pretty small island. Maybe half the size of Bali. It would have been nice to see more of it. After less than a full day on the island, and most of that time spent at work, I am not exactly the world's foremost authority on Zanzibar. I would not mind staying at one of the beach resorts one day. There are far fewer locals at the resorts, so it cannot possibly be as interesting, but some of the hotels look pretty nice.
<br><br>
Though Mombasa and Zanzibar are both mostly Afro-Arab and/or Muslim with large populations living below the poverty line on the shores of the Indian Ocean, they could not have felt more different. There was a good deal of tension in Mombasa's air. The locals tolerated the mzungu, though my impression was that they merely tolerated our money. It was similar to the Muslim Quarter in Jerusalem's Old City. Anyone who calls you “my friend” is trying to sell you something. Zanzibar was more relaxed. People seemed more genuinely friendly, regardless of how much money we might spend. It probably helps that Zanzibar is made up of several tropical islands with some beautiful beaches. I doubt I will ever go back to Mombasa, though I'm glad I went once. I will be disappointed if I never make it back to Zanzibar some day.
<br><br>
Since the preceding paragraph might come off as negative toward Muslims, I will point out that Zanzibar, the place I liked and want to go back to, has a much larger Muslim population than Mombasa.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEX_K7S4gT_9YZ4qWX5yrMA8rjxre5rl2mgxZ6B9ocPQyV2Ttdzw4821XArp86SPPlWuPih3w1hA0KrDObBE4DG6gyBN3yisFk8CAffiLBrkLumbPDjnjcAdSU_xGG0bC3w2zutKrLj9z1L1rDK--38nrlmbDYi_cL_rUXcaotGW8EY_4eFPLI-bqA/s2560/zanzibar.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEX_K7S4gT_9YZ4qWX5yrMA8rjxre5rl2mgxZ6B9ocPQyV2Ttdzw4821XArp86SPPlWuPih3w1hA0KrDObBE4DG6gyBN3yisFk8CAffiLBrkLumbPDjnjcAdSU_xGG0bC3w2zutKrLj9z1L1rDK--38nrlmbDYi_cL_rUXcaotGW8EY_4eFPLI-bqA/s320/zanzibar.jpg"/></a></div>
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-32365888529111147102023-03-08T06:45:00.002+08:002023-03-10T14:50:58.471+08:00African Tour:Mombasa<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvcgiB7Ku42i7htWJjTh87PvKcGpBtSf4lD4NEW9kxEHUb3TZIuyVgxUXpHkFFF6DyU4Bu9-6gedBRT91EQsV_col68hjVICMzbyadL3FAELBHmsFgUAvAzimesWxlWNTyDN3VAjSGyRd7dsAV4Z4bmGpgxxgNyXnqspSu0OnwcleIYRyqBcCR5ZZ/s1024/MBA.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvcgiB7Ku42i7htWJjTh87PvKcGpBtSf4lD4NEW9kxEHUb3TZIuyVgxUXpHkFFF6DyU4Bu9-6gedBRT91EQsV_col68hjVICMzbyadL3FAELBHmsFgUAvAzimesWxlWNTyDN3VAjSGyRd7dsAV4Z4bmGpgxxgNyXnqspSu0OnwcleIYRyqBcCR5ZZ/s320/MBA.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Moi International Airport
<br>Mombasa, Kenya</center>
<br>
After barely any time in Nairobi, we flew from Jomo Kenyatta International Airport to Moi International Airport in Mombasa. Moi just might be the least interesting airport I have ever seen. It looks like an old roadside motel on the outside and a bus station on the inside. The drive from the airport lacked any scenery, despite crossing two bridges and driving over an island.
<br><br>
We all stayed in several apartments relatively close to each other in the Nyali neighborhood of Kisauni. Nyali is generally considered one of the better neighborhoods in Mombasa with the best beaches. Our apartment was largely forgettable. One of the reasons I prefer to stay in houses and apartments is because they usually have more charm than some generic hotel room. This apartment disproved that theory.
<br><br>
As with Nairobi, we worked every day in Mombasa. There was little time for sightseeing. I think I left Mombasa with even less of an impression than I got from Nairobi. At least in Nairobi I had some interesting interactions with the locals. Everyone in Mombasa pretty much stayed away from us.
<br><br>
We saw a few sights. Everyone who goes to Mombasa visits Fort Jesus on Mvita Island. Fort Jesus was built by the Portuguese 400 years ago and was controlled by everyone from the Portuguese to the British to various Arab sultans. As forts go, it is not particularly big, which might be one reason it was so easily captured over the years.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxBA61BMTzwHKyTUVNs_NUbuxE1bpZgkbb-pmKTarouzGbZAtOY29USyD1Tpop0S4rpw2ZrToZGQpAAMuaK7RfgjDeeMpJodDi44_dnmG5rlRDgXl2UU75q6a46dcGMjRdufwmSU-w_KSznlmlFluCx3VhKuOI-Lqm3_LtmzTQdYtiI9DMuoNzivVs/s1280/mombasa%20old%20town.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxBA61BMTzwHKyTUVNs_NUbuxE1bpZgkbb-pmKTarouzGbZAtOY29USyD1Tpop0S4rpw2ZrToZGQpAAMuaK7RfgjDeeMpJodDi44_dnmG5rlRDgXl2UU75q6a46dcGMjRdufwmSU-w_KSznlmlFluCx3VhKuOI-Lqm3_LtmzTQdYtiI9DMuoNzivVs/s320/mombasa%20old%20town.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Old Town</center>
<br>
My most interesting tourist adventure in Mombasa was walking along the narrow streets in Old Town. Nothing eventful happened, but I always like to see how people live in a place I have never been, especially if I am staying in a building or neighborhood most of them could never afford. The fancier your hotel, the farther removed you are from the real world around you. Mombasa reminded me of Bali in that regard. Not that the two places felt anything alike, but we stayed in a private villa on Bali that the people who cleaned would have to save up to afford. I have no idea how much the apartment in Mombasa cost. Hopefully less than the villa on Bali by the look of it. But it was probably more expensive than most of the houses I saw in Old Town.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KK0PZkH2XNqAesLWXgXLTpDRpdk4GWUYEM_f3TYTvZ6c-Mai6nCeei8qHfxo1_x31en0ftFa3Wo1KuDbWlWgtVrU_YXMU6Vmx4Tok0F10XdVbfABTwODyRKMzZMbVoE_zGngepvVGf8Ha4GDLkM17hb88p6g5DLyHlD7YM29rNvLv7EpYyqSyJSY/s1920/nyali%20beach.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="765" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KK0PZkH2XNqAesLWXgXLTpDRpdk4GWUYEM_f3TYTvZ6c-Mai6nCeei8qHfxo1_x31en0ftFa3Wo1KuDbWlWgtVrU_YXMU6Vmx4Tok0F10XdVbfABTwODyRKMzZMbVoE_zGngepvVGf8Ha4GDLkM17hb88p6g5DLyHlD7YM29rNvLv7EpYyqSyJSY/s320/nyali%20beach.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Nyali Beach</center>
<br>
Like all the foreigners in Mombasa, we went to the beach. Nyali Beach is generally considered the nicest in Mombasa. There was certainly nothing wrong with it. But after the beaches in Cape Town, it was nothing special. It was like going to the Hong Kong Museum of Art right after the Louvre. Something Nyali had that I do not recall ever seeing on any previous beach were camels. More than a few enterprising capitalists brought their camels to the beach so tourists could ride them. This is more common in Kenya than I would have expected. One of my favorite afternoons in Cape Town was riding a horse in Kommetjie. Oddly enough, none of us were as interested in riding a camel.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIaaPxFZzOvKdDP5uU4D8GEV_J4uWDskyQ_6PHthJbNUFtKjwK0v18VHciWxiogSUkTKo714vC8v3yXyJm4a2L2O0yniT35kPxV9p7MBwZVigsECX_G6EziQUcVCnm6xhLWXe3fAn96NjDLSCJhqzxylB30RqKvOq5D3jf4DZNnl9R7uBVp4jCx8e7/s1420/mombasa2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIaaPxFZzOvKdDP5uU4D8GEV_J4uWDskyQ_6PHthJbNUFtKjwK0v18VHciWxiogSUkTKo714vC8v3yXyJm4a2L2O0yniT35kPxV9p7MBwZVigsECX_G6EziQUcVCnm6xhLWXe3fAn96NjDLSCJhqzxylB30RqKvOq5D3jf4DZNnl9R7uBVp4jCx8e7/s320/mombasa2.jpg"/></a></div>
<br>
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-86520099667641148032023-03-06T06:51:00.006+08:002023-03-10T14:19:53.198+08:00African Tour:Nairobi<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGf13tgY3jBgKgVWo5xQLLxSwRtB89Akdnzq9Emwd_g5pZR8Tp8fcqxARxm9M1lv8yoB120b_I1ueM79JZ1JTX7mo4F8F2xVIJ-B4QTvZDZkOoX-I9CzLYvB4ZerCzS_0pn_-qgez22pqUBnoS3uF4LTINM0mLPj6gtpRgUrXLc9SdIWSGniUXBFiq/s2000/NBO.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGf13tgY3jBgKgVWo5xQLLxSwRtB89Akdnzq9Emwd_g5pZR8Tp8fcqxARxm9M1lv8yoB120b_I1ueM79JZ1JTX7mo4F8F2xVIJ-B4QTvZDZkOoX-I9CzLYvB4ZerCzS_0pn_-qgez22pqUBnoS3uF4LTINM0mLPj6gtpRgUrXLc9SdIWSGniUXBFiq/s320/NBO.jpeg"/></a></div>
<center>Jomo Kenyatta International Airport
<br>Nairobi, Kenya</center>
<br>
After a few days at Kruger National Park and driving around the Mpumalanga countryside, Nairobi was like a different world. Not only is it by far the largest city in Kenya, it is also the gateway to all of the country's national parks and reserves. Everyone who goes to Kenya goes through Nairobi. The mix of international tourists and more locals than any other city in Kenya makes for an interesting, and a little tense, atmosphere.
<br><br>
The entire company stayed at the Sarova Stanley Hotel in the Central Business District. I always preferred houses and apartments, but this was not a bad hotel. It was a little less generic than typical business hotels and it was smack dab in the middle of the CBD. The hotel had a swimming pool that I never got a chance to use, a restaurant that I only saw at breakfast, and a tiny gym that most of us ignored because it was pretty much useless.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2RliCw3QsP75b-hz4N2fwqtb1LqyNypAF5u8xhNLwqp8JcIpTQHQ0y1Je3U5PDl5bYeblxAIhCWHLaLkqr-8EBauhZWiuBRqdkaqgolBiDko_JXgzJ7x2XnQdLWUfDj2kdzfu0hxQ0DaDln7EGTB21a1RtYyIhDU6fcLhu-Fncetpyo3WnEZn88H/s2220/Nairobi.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="2220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2RliCw3QsP75b-hz4N2fwqtb1LqyNypAF5u8xhNLwqp8JcIpTQHQ0y1Je3U5PDl5bYeblxAIhCWHLaLkqr-8EBauhZWiuBRqdkaqgolBiDko_JXgzJ7x2XnQdLWUfDj2kdzfu0hxQ0DaDln7EGTB21a1RtYyIhDU6fcLhu-Fncetpyo3WnEZn88H/s320/Nairobi.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Nairobi at its best.</center>
<br>
Just outside the hotel was the Jamia Mosque, Kenya National Archives, and Memorial Peace Museum. A little farther away was the Nairobi National Museum. As with most mosques, heathens are not allowed inside the Jamia Mosque. The outside was surprisingly unimpressive. The Kenya National Archives houses the “largest Pan-African art gallery in Africa”. The Memorial Peace Museum is a small memorial to those who died when the American embassy was blown up in 1998. The Nairobi National Museum is a larger than expected natural history museum that focuses exclusively on Sub-Saharan Africa. Between the hotel and the museum was the Maasai Market on the banks of the Nairobi River. It was like any other handmade tourist crap market, but it felt more authentic, for some reason.
<br><br>
We were only in Nairobi for a few days and we worked on all of them. That left little time for exploring, except late at night and early in the morning. The hotel staff told us not to go out after 22:00. They were not even subtle about it. They just came out and said it was too dangerous for foreigners. The CBD is supposed to be the safest part of the city. The hotel staff disagreed.
<br><br>
Not that any of us were going to get murdered if we walked outside the hotel at night. Probably just robbed. Scams are exceptionally popular in Nairobi. We were warned about fake police wanting to check our passports, strangers claiming this ATM is broken and we should use that one over there, good samaritans telling us some tourist sight is closed that day and offering an alternative, friendly people trying to start conversations while their accomplice picks our pockets, and the old international favorite, shady taxi drivers who take you some place you really do not want to go.
<br><br>
One of my favorite scams was one none of us had to worry about. Apparently, some children in Nairobi will approach strange men and loudly claim to be the child they abandoned. The goal is to embarrass the “father” enough to give them some money to go away. Since we were all women, and did not look at all like any of the children, none of us saw that one first hand.
<br><br>
Having already traveled a bit before we reached Nairobi, I was not unfamiliar with the concept of nefarious locals who prey on naive tourists. I met a few taxi drivers in Bangkok who were not entirely honest and was told by a local that the Grand Palace was closed while I was walking away from just visiting the Grand Palace. Stealing my passport is difficult in any country since I never take it with me when I wander around a city, I only use secure ATMs, and I have spent enough time in New York to know how to defend against pickpockets.
<br><br>
Even so, I encountered two obvious scammers in my brief time in Nairobi. One was a middle age man claiming to be an undercover police officer. He never asked to see my passport, but he showed me his badge for about a tenth of a second. From what little I saw, it looked homemade. I know nothing about Kenyan police, but there was nothing about this guy that made me believe he was legitimate. His cheap suit was too large and the way he carried himself looked like someone who had never gone through any military or self-defense training.
<br><br>
Our conversation went something like this:
<br><br>
Scammer: Are you lost?
<br><br>
Me: Not yet.
<br><br>
Scammer: It is not safe in the street.
<br><br>
This was in broad daylight on a reasonably crowded road.
<br><br>
Scammer: I can help you find the way.
<br><br>
Me: To San Jose? Do you know Burt?
<br><br>
Scammer (completely ignoring everything I say): The American embassy is moved. (pointing) It is now that way.
<br><br>
I never said anything about going to any embassy or that I was American. But to a lot of people, if you are white, you must be American.
<br><br>
Scammer: My car can take you.
<br><br>
Me: Pass.
<br><br>
I turned around and walked away. The entire exchange happened too quickly for me to fully realize that he was trying to get me into his car. I prefer not to think about why.
<br><br>
I looked it up later and they did move the American embassy. In 2003. We were relatively close to the old site, which is now a monument to the 1998 bombing.
<br><br>
The second scammer was a longer conversation, but one I still do not understand. I was maybe half a kilometer east of the hotel when a man roughly my age told me he worked at my hotel. He never mentioned the name. He only called it “your hotel” or “the hotel”. He said he worked in the kitchen and was getting ready to make my breakfast. It all sounded completely innocuous at first, other than his refusal to use the hotel's name. I talked to him for a while because, in the highly unlikely event he actually did work for the hotel, he might have some good stories to tell. The people who work behind the scenes are usually the most interesting. Unfortunately, when I asked him for directions back to the hotel, he pointed south.
<br><br>
After some small talk, he asked me if I could help him move some boxes. This really caught me off guard. He said it was for my breakfast, so it was only fair that I helped. I wondered if he had ever met an American tourist before. The more I declined his offer, the more upset he got. He really wanted help moving those boxes. In the end, I walked away, just as I had with the undercover police officer. The good news about Nairobi scammers is that they take no for an answer.
<br><br>
I understand what the fake cop was after. He wanted me to get into his car. I have no idea what the fake hotel employee wanted. Unless he legitimately wanted me to help him move boxes.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnwHEKg-MfxT9aLBpSlVN5hFmgtoDJT6Dy3d-0_QBDyqzGhi9KhuerHNkf_DpuUqFuVbsIP0xHyyw3xP_s_tvtoYIM-pqBfXDIFOe1TBAdF6h-yMAzQ1MHACSwNqUijtoJPyG4xYOPEgb0bNLmXpwqn-KsLuCBvNvh0qRz_a6GRJcgIPo0qbcbLuT/s1200/nairobi2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnwHEKg-MfxT9aLBpSlVN5hFmgtoDJT6Dy3d-0_QBDyqzGhi9KhuerHNkf_DpuUqFuVbsIP0xHyyw3xP_s_tvtoYIM-pqBfXDIFOe1TBAdF6h-yMAzQ1MHACSwNqUijtoJPyG4xYOPEgb0bNLmXpwqn-KsLuCBvNvh0qRz_a6GRJcgIPo0qbcbLuT/s320/nairobi2.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Nairobi on any given day.</center>
<br>Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-59429635684273809852023-02-28T07:29:00.008+08:002023-03-11T16:09:58.680+08:00African Tour:Drakensberg Escarpment part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvra6PTcJQum7RQ2kmDBj5woNSDgT-5b-f7TODyTdq2mbsm8yIpoc_EZwazk3-33vUrJ4Hw8tazMOXzTButJmURQo6-WNHYxpEgV7CGc7YF5-cSYtwK2TnYEltfWvrvAOSjVzOq8HvP_zLxI0mQMLkms5IRlZyQdk72ECBTeo7wivOtTOzt2eUYDz/s1300/drakensberg1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="829" data-original-width="1300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvra6PTcJQum7RQ2kmDBj5woNSDgT-5b-f7TODyTdq2mbsm8yIpoc_EZwazk3-33vUrJ4Hw8tazMOXzTButJmURQo6-WNHYxpEgV7CGc7YF5-cSYtwK2TnYEltfWvrvAOSjVzOq8HvP_zLxI0mQMLkms5IRlZyQdk72ECBTeo7wivOtTOzt2eUYDz/s320/drakensberg1.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>The Drakensberg Escarpment</center>
<br>
While the rest of the company flew from Cape Town to Nairobi, our little group drove to Johannesburg, returned the rental car, and caught a flight that reunited us with everyone late at night. We could have gotten there much earlier, but we still had large chunks of the Drakensberg Escarpment to explore.
<br><br>
Our route from Johannesburg to Hazyview was northeast to Lydenburg, east along the Panorama Route, a little back and forth around the waterfalls at Sabie, and then due east to Hazyview. Our route from Hazyview to Johanesburg was a little different.
<br><br>
The 45 minute drive to Graskop was mostly one long country road with a lot of trees that gradually went uphill. When we turned from R535 to R533, it became a winding uphill road. There were fewer trees, but the occasional glimpse of how much elevation we were getting. Graskop was an easy enough town to drive through without worrying about missing anything. I think the only reason anyone goes there is for the nearby scenery.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKa2xuZ6HVmRDkzWLI0TBcxegXArR9Rc0pHqlp-CYzBqnK3QTQzDlMZmkhwcubaQXPSGIHb2We6S4AJKV7QpkqurKMLVWypBrwjOq1yU5UoVydzn2kq_wkp2aW825yFdngpK698KYgSU8M5iEfrfb56Eub2Rf9wh5Yd_zhq2vHMfJvtpDP-cCvQg5m/s2563/Gods%20Window.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="2563" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKa2xuZ6HVmRDkzWLI0TBcxegXArR9Rc0pHqlp-CYzBqnK3QTQzDlMZmkhwcubaQXPSGIHb2We6S4AJKV7QpkqurKMLVWypBrwjOq1yU5UoVydzn2kq_wkp2aW825yFdngpK698KYgSU8M5iEfrfb56Eub2Rf9wh5Yd_zhq2vHMfJvtpDP-cCvQg5m/s320/Gods%20Window.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>God's Window</center>
<br>
Just north of town is God's Window, a cliff with views of the valley almost one kilometer down. There is no indication that anything like this exists on the drive to Graskop. We obviously went uphill, but the road was never at the side of any hills. It is a simple country drive to a small country town, and then suddenly, you are looking out over the edge of the Drakensberg Escarpment.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjf6Lm2UiZM07mVujP9QJe7ZyC1gyUt7COjMfi4BtnN8biPcX0EXENaa3Fot2JjkOfY-2RgyzeBUknvAiTa5zxxcHvJLBoOTcg8ZiIBIcqw2uYAel8eiIaWiOf1TN2nFn0LvogQ2vga9f27t8rA5kjPm0AUzU_jIsBMgQCMZrzKFut9d05zh2klzVk/s2560/Pinnacle.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjf6Lm2UiZM07mVujP9QJe7ZyC1gyUt7COjMfi4BtnN8biPcX0EXENaa3Fot2JjkOfY-2RgyzeBUknvAiTa5zxxcHvJLBoOTcg8ZiIBIcqw2uYAel8eiIaWiOf1TN2nFn0LvogQ2vga9f27t8rA5kjPm0AUzU_jIsBMgQCMZrzKFut9d05zh2klzVk/s320/Pinnacle.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Pinnacle</center>
<br>
Just north of God's Window is the Pinnacle, a tall rock formation you can only see by standing on the edge of a steep cliff and looking down. It is a nice looking rock, as far as rocks go, but not the kind of place you can spend all day.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigoWAG9vQInW_eIObzN65Pcvpo7uAf_DCyczyss6UmAKthKGauT1yIhKt9LKLhZLuz6aylt-3Cp-BdwH2E2dcVsxd3NxhiXUBKWhPnZyafw6T2RVvwkHl5o7TdhVWBK1fVdDxasgHAcPKgAMQCEbuFD4nGVhL1SjzNtCC0S_EaBUODOWRyncFHtxEV/s2000/Wonder%20View.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="2000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigoWAG9vQInW_eIObzN65Pcvpo7uAf_DCyczyss6UmAKthKGauT1yIhKt9LKLhZLuz6aylt-3Cp-BdwH2E2dcVsxd3NxhiXUBKWhPnZyafw6T2RVvwkHl5o7TdhVWBK1fVdDxasgHAcPKgAMQCEbuFD4nGVhL1SjzNtCC0S_EaBUODOWRyncFHtxEV/s320/Wonder%20View.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Wonder View</center>
<br>
North of the Pinnacle is Wonder View, another cliffside perch. The name is not too clever, but you get incredible views of the seemingly endless rainforest below. Though facing the same direction, it looks different from God's Window.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNem38PZAkspzhtABT_MGgoKD1apw-5cxzNHIYSPdhPll-lglnMDvibq4nlCq4MVQB_V7UOYlgXpUAcWOnBnBIYzhUnys-bfsIYyL6BxpHahNDPTMbqIxYsuOGheUJm4r-3i2ZJDGt5FI-keVsWYHNdzRM6qhEr8kOZnJivY-6cXj-9pvSZVMogIZ/s1200/Lisbon%20Falls.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNem38PZAkspzhtABT_MGgoKD1apw-5cxzNHIYSPdhPll-lglnMDvibq4nlCq4MVQB_V7UOYlgXpUAcWOnBnBIYzhUnys-bfsIYyL6BxpHahNDPTMbqIxYsuOGheUJm4r-3i2ZJDGt5FI-keVsWYHNdzRM6qhEr8kOZnJivY-6cXj-9pvSZVMogIZ/s320/Lisbon%20Falls.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Lisbon Falls</center>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALTqHVQKIT0NNwUL_Hah9c0t4hEGxN1MX2VV-eqCzlYzI97M13xavQMoMOBzJ149kVbAQMS7THUJnv7Q3orJD3NOkPWiQkhRurZSiuEeUBTY3Wd6cMiCAul2Lgphx72zZVuQPAVHX6da05ynbLZy0i9D0qThuL0l2MuKhcsYrGvvRFcUxwawRaqt0/s1920/Berlin%20Falls.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALTqHVQKIT0NNwUL_Hah9c0t4hEGxN1MX2VV-eqCzlYzI97M13xavQMoMOBzJ149kVbAQMS7THUJnv7Q3orJD3NOkPWiQkhRurZSiuEeUBTY3Wd6cMiCAul2Lgphx72zZVuQPAVHX6da05ynbLZy0i9D0qThuL0l2MuKhcsYrGvvRFcUxwawRaqt0/s320/Berlin%20Falls.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Berlin Falls</center>
<br>
Just west of Wonder View are Berlin Falls and Lisbon Falls. Like Mac Mac Falls, Lisbon Falls are just off the road. You park at a large parking lot, walk a few meters, and look down at the waterfalls below. Berlin Falls is a little farther from the road, but the parking lot looks exactly the same. And it is only a single stream of water, at least when we went. Mac Mac and Lisbon had more water rushing over their cliffs.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0HALMDxt1f_n3TUl-cJ60mfi8EggLA1tetgUq4YweBvbEPbR1rAPvarW-dMn_5RS0DhhvATX35VU_WoYNoIa5LcSJYkyHvxcynnt4Ye3-fm9poBZPcz0OVhZ7f74uvrDBxXGSSQSIqduMWcQjxpRswCceAQ0_GWeRjuMwOjZR1vJ64vtTAD27WUq/s2560/Blyde%20River%20Canyon.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0HALMDxt1f_n3TUl-cJ60mfi8EggLA1tetgUq4YweBvbEPbR1rAPvarW-dMn_5RS0DhhvATX35VU_WoYNoIa5LcSJYkyHvxcynnt4Ye3-fm9poBZPcz0OVhZ7f74uvrDBxXGSSQSIqduMWcQjxpRswCceAQ0_GWeRjuMwOjZR1vJ64vtTAD27WUq/s320/Blyde%20River%20Canyon.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Blyde River Canyon</center>
<br>
All of these spots are at the southern tip of the enormous Blyde River Canyon, the second longest canyon in Africa. The first is Fish River Canyon in Namibia. Fish River Canyon, like the Grand Canyon in Arizona, is dirt and rock. Blyde River Canyon is green as far as the eye can see. Except for all the blue in the river.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiTdQgucPQeyQ28JfY_1VixoCEvXjpMFhLf_2h0uXVQEUyOiwJneljEsJsyU0TRu0a2MQHgBvWCawyoEexwOXYKuRFKeM9_LbEJmHW2B1setpSsn3GlpulBXR9FXeyB6075-cFAkOAZrRWI_EFxvUNnq5z00JveyL-QDUEZQfAj4eddXIUkLurlXT/s1258/Bourkes%20Luck_Daniele%20Codegoni.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="833" data-original-width="1258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiTdQgucPQeyQ28JfY_1VixoCEvXjpMFhLf_2h0uXVQEUyOiwJneljEsJsyU0TRu0a2MQHgBvWCawyoEexwOXYKuRFKeM9_LbEJmHW2B1setpSsn3GlpulBXR9FXeyB6075-cFAkOAZrRWI_EFxvUNnq5z00JveyL-QDUEZQfAj4eddXIUkLurlXT/s320/Bourkes%20Luck_Daniele%20Codegoni.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Bourke's Luck Potholes
<br>
Photograph by Daniele Codegoni</center>
<br>
About 30km north of Berlin Falls are Bourke's Luck Potholes, large erosions in the rock that have created small pools more or less separated from the river. Driving to the potholes is not an option, but there is a visitor's center with minimal parking. The hike is relatively level on a clearly marked trail with three separate foot bridges that span across the Blyde River. The potholes are easily seen just past the east bridge.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-0yVrlpmZ3rzq_XvuZ-JhfdXJfLP1GeK6SwplWP7NPpJMZdxy-8gmXYWbWKPrwVRvxHwEqkxqX4tsKWZb0w2DzOHxgCZSa8PmCiaDyJJC4xEq7Oc35e8QgC0i82zN6XU-YptPPYJ9bYA2zQXhb296WFPgwOlNMdW42yz8PSRrr_iITjz25NgYsOm/s1600/three%20rondevels.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-0yVrlpmZ3rzq_XvuZ-JhfdXJfLP1GeK6SwplWP7NPpJMZdxy-8gmXYWbWKPrwVRvxHwEqkxqX4tsKWZb0w2DzOHxgCZSa8PmCiaDyJJC4xEq7Oc35e8QgC0i82zN6XU-YptPPYJ9bYA2zQXhb296WFPgwOlNMdW42yz8PSRrr_iITjz25NgYsOm/s320/three%20rondevels.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Three Rondavels</center>
<br>
Less than 20km north of the potholes are the Three Rondavels, a series of mountain peaks on the Drakensberg Mountains. Rather than look down the canyon, as with the potholes, the Three Rondavels are viewed from a few different vantage points on the other side of the river. The point we went to had no parking lot. Everyone simply parked on the side of the road. That was easy enough since that particular road went nowhere else. Touching the Three Rondevels requires a long hike through the canyon. We did not have nearly enough time for that. Most people just look at them and take pictures.
<br><br>
Though most of the Blyde River Canyon lay before us, we had a car to return and a flight to catch. We had been driving north most of the day. Johannesburg was 430km to the southwest. We had less time to stop and appreciate the scenery, but I thought the drive out of the canyon was more beautiful than the drive in. At least until we turned onto R36. That was just another country road, and the same road we took to Lydenburg, though headed south this time.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtuXHLaalW_EdrGnsK9tX18DfKC9uvdJ4EvrS-vN4Kp1DY3GCOU5udKulF0lQWYn2qt9wJ5nPA4iQZlbpS8u9nGi3dZjZvbYuqobKaFinafYrq_cfKv2x_hECdh_Nl9RXqDlaNlUk6r8CNTecpzygpTNlWV_hUEWjapPmkDFKT8d34DqFMHoNF4D3/s1920/Drakensberg.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtuXHLaalW_EdrGnsK9tX18DfKC9uvdJ4EvrS-vN4Kp1DY3GCOU5udKulF0lQWYn2qt9wJ5nPA4iQZlbpS8u9nGi3dZjZvbYuqobKaFinafYrq_cfKv2x_hECdh_Nl9RXqDlaNlUk6r8CNTecpzygpTNlWV_hUEWjapPmkDFKT8d34DqFMHoNF4D3/s320/Drakensberg.jpeg"/></a></div>
<center>The Drakensberg Escarpment</center>
<br>
After a brief stop in Lydenburg, we were back on the same route that got us there in the first place. The only difference was that I liked driving out of the big city and into the wide open country a lot better than the other way around. At Lanseria International Airport, we returned the car and boarded a plane for Nairobi.
<br><br>
I have to say, South Africa was the easiest country in the world when it came to renting cars. There were never any problems or delays and they always had the kind of car I reserved. As long as there were no additional drivers, they were more than happy to take my money and give me the keys. I have no idea if I will ever go back to South Africa, though I certainly hope so. If I do, I will not hesitate to rent a car or two. The countryside is beautiful and easy to drive around. Cape Town has some parking issues in the City Centre, but is otherwise a great driving city.
<br><br>
Even without driving, Cape Town was my favorite city in South Africa. We met friendly people everywhere we went, especially Betty in Durban. But as an international city, Cape Town has more diversity than Durban, which really helps when it comes to all that racial tension just barely hiding under the surface. As a beach city, Cape Town is more laid back than Johannesburg. There was still more of Africa to see, but I had a feeling South Africa was always going to be my favorite.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxtsYKrd0nkeeRGzS2rC4sk5ipCjFZza4dv-A9GCVHEg46prA3TzgayLHhLXerz4II5AhULfl2ngfMobhZUZ2RmjNRGmyUSGdq39tM1xoob4vtYXWhu0K1o4S_6nKwg6ZozTh3Dx9ic8OSZhiSDGcXIMQqMfRZzxzkoLWhuEcGi8Q7RVZoXA_Yxe7/s2048/drakensberg.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxtsYKrd0nkeeRGzS2rC4sk5ipCjFZza4dv-A9GCVHEg46prA3TzgayLHhLXerz4II5AhULfl2ngfMobhZUZ2RmjNRGmyUSGdq39tM1xoob4vtYXWhu0K1o4S_6nKwg6ZozTh3Dx9ic8OSZhiSDGcXIMQqMfRZzxzkoLWhuEcGi8Q7RVZoXA_Yxe7/s320/drakensberg.jpg"/></a></div>
<hr>
Just a reminder, I did not take any of these photographs. These are placeholders until I can replace them with my own. I am attempting to give credit to the photographers when I know who they are.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-33466202642108454382023-02-24T06:50:00.004+08:002023-03-11T16:04:54.572+08:00African Tour:Kruger National Park part 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVgGueImKPTW39QnEy2hKsD3EnO-uZYOasQOT0xaLdUfuA3_d-F3rDM-I76Bap1LKvJ5H0Pm8whGKDmkQmt76WrERinZx3wIbtdKvyCeiNeCwdF45GYeHpcmt-IWH_o9KmG2xjkxv7_SEEe04GqK17qcU60hEM0_MFPPBoD61uKWN9CawQl0mqZsr/s2048/zebra.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixVgGueImKPTW39QnEy2hKsD3EnO-uZYOasQOT0xaLdUfuA3_d-F3rDM-I76Bap1LKvJ5H0Pm8whGKDmkQmt76WrERinZx3wIbtdKvyCeiNeCwdF45GYeHpcmt-IWH_o9KmG2xjkxv7_SEEe04GqK17qcU60hEM0_MFPPBoD61uKWN9CawQl0mqZsr/s320/zebra.jpg"/></a></div>
After entering Kruger through the Phabeni Gate twice already, there was little point in going to the same area a third time. Realistically, there was a point. We cold have easily spent every day near Phabeni and still only scratched the surface. But since we all agreed that we wanted to cover as much ground as possible, it made more sense to enter and exit different gates. On our last day at the park, we took the Phalaborwa Gate, which is more than a two hour drive from Hazyview. That meant leaving our warm rooms by 03:00 and braving the cold, dark morning drive.
<br><br>
Not that it was cold. Even winters in Kaohsiung get colder than spring mornings in South Africa. The dark was different since we did most of our driving outside of Hazyview during daylight hours, but the drive to Phalaborwa was mostly one road and there was absolutely no traffic. Leaving extra early in the morning meant there were only three of us instead of four. One of the night owls could barely go to sleep by 03:00, let alone wake up. I could sympathize, but when you make an extra effort to go someplace that requires an early start, and the tiny town in the middle of nowhere has no night life to speak of, you might as well go to bed and wake up early.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Azo80OCFODa1eXLPd5MT4v5OM5g2CfKvvqRC1z9hbWvFgRDf0ZcwaR8C2nRHjWovKdlv5GjNUHRw6Rzf5CyG-FmBJzwxKHjomhQQJ4zE00vQ-eZD_8JHXU3Rwmc_v2FhNfRluROH_0NMoFEORGYNhCEYAwGaGAGNa2o6qxX9YeE58zPsJT9nHRoA/s1350/gazelle.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Azo80OCFODa1eXLPd5MT4v5OM5g2CfKvvqRC1z9hbWvFgRDf0ZcwaR8C2nRHjWovKdlv5GjNUHRw6Rzf5CyG-FmBJzwxKHjomhQQJ4zE00vQ-eZD_8JHXU3Rwmc_v2FhNfRluROH_0NMoFEORGYNhCEYAwGaGAGNa2o6qxX9YeE58zPsJT9nHRoA/s320/gazelle.jpg"/></a></div>
Our first two days were mostly ambling around. The Phabeni and Crocodile Bridge gates are relatively close to each other. If you simply wanted to go in one and straight out the other, for some reason, you could probably do it in under three hours. Phabeni to Phalaborwa is a little farther, but that is the most narrow section of the park and you mostly drive north and south. The rest camps north of Skukuza are less interesting, so there is less reason to spend more time in one spot. The two gates on our last day were more than 200km apart. While it might sound easy to drive 200km in 13 hours, it can be challenging when you stop a lot to smell the roses, not to mention masticate and micturate.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4bQJMlXfNobRWX6-QDZqmAGFAMjDI03OiHVRPJgH5WIJTV6KECSO-9OKp-pJaaqWy8OdqqAiUFvVufaH4QDceEOUdyFsnX-HFRG2kGGIqRARtKxu2XS2ePbacwIMbsMDMrlbeojo6zIM06XXCJSeRDpfu7kb4LE1Ac0yuaXlo1bdCRGVBBRzjQIy/s1632/Punda%20Maria.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="1632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4bQJMlXfNobRWX6-QDZqmAGFAMjDI03OiHVRPJgH5WIJTV6KECSO-9OKp-pJaaqWy8OdqqAiUFvVufaH4QDceEOUdyFsnX-HFRG2kGGIqRARtKxu2XS2ePbacwIMbsMDMrlbeojo6zIM06XXCJSeRDpfu7kb4LE1Ac0yuaXlo1bdCRGVBBRzjQIy/s320/Punda%20Maria.jpg"/></a></div>
I paid more attention to closing hours on the way to Punda Maria. We left the park by 18:30, as we did every day. We wanted to hit those gates right before they closed, while being careful not to stay too late. The fines to get out after they close the gates are steep, and they reserve the option to ban you from reentering the park. Since we had been driving north all day, we were as far from Hazyview as we were going to get. The drive home was about five hours, mostly during and just after sunset. It got dark pretty quickly on the country road with no street lights, but half the drive was the same way we took from Hazyview to Phalaborwa, so it was not completely unfamiliar. This was one of those times we were really glad there were gas stations inside the park.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXY4EOooYrCJODe_pgOpDo40pRYNNWaiznLCNWdj64oWY8pNN1HRkkSf07NKohQAcvPUxayuMpMPW6iQA4kUV2gLa6xlprm6PpyA0o0Rx0LoEvgml56jpM2KYUQX9wWIW4rtRZIb5JIWki_sDxypWnxrrDQmduWRt3N8L1tgaCFEUiMyoVudCdXhi6/s1600/giraffe.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXY4EOooYrCJODe_pgOpDo40pRYNNWaiznLCNWdj64oWY8pNN1HRkkSf07NKohQAcvPUxayuMpMPW6iQA4kUV2gLa6xlprm6PpyA0o0Rx0LoEvgml56jpM2KYUQX9wWIW4rtRZIb5JIWki_sDxypWnxrrDQmduWRt3N8L1tgaCFEUiMyoVudCdXhi6/s320/giraffe.jpg"/></a></div>
After three days at Kruger, we had spotted all of the Big Five, except leopards, as well as several small families of cheetah, a few packs of dogs, maybe a hundred hippos bunched together in a river, who knows how many crocodiles mostly under the water, dozens of hyena and jackal, some warthogs, a few foxes, dozens of baboons and smaller monkeys, at least a hundred giraffes, even more wildebeest, and countless zebras. The most abundant animal we saw, by far, were the antelopes. There are more than a few species of antelope in Kruger. I could not even begin to guess which was which, but since there are more than 100,000 impala in the park, I can assume we saw a few of those.
<br><br>
Kruger also has hundreds of species of birds. I can tell the difference between an eagle, hawk, and stork, but I am not about to try and identify each species. Except the marabou stork. That one is pretty easy because it is so ugly. Ostriches were also easy, but we saw plenty of them in Cape Town.
<br><br>
I stayed in Hazyview for a few days, but know pretty much nothing about the town. Since we always left for Kruger early in the morning and came back after sunset, we saw nothing in town. All we did in Hazyview was sleep and go to the grocery store once.
<br><br>
Staying at a hotel outside the park seemed like a good idea at the time. With strict gate times, there is far more freedom of movement if you sleep outside. Since we arrived late on our first night, an outside hotel was the only option. In hindsight, staying at one of the lodges inside the park would have been more efficient, even though that also would have meant driving directly to the park and not seeing anything on the Panorama Route since the park gates close so early. The Blue Jay Lodge in Hazyview was quite nice. Phil and Margi are friendly hosts. I can easily recommend it. But if I ever go back, I will definitely stay inside Kruger.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsv0ww0zrGxC1ByhMM5UexVnZU8sx3mM4pYaxjlncbzODMXSJEw7rAbVr5DV3CxhiLVZ-q7ee2BayUhOcJCBcdxzfA0vP98J-XrKm2O_k1AO5wP_ZMuH8xN8Q6LYwQcvEMlE1Lsn6Zr6KJtADAh2OqRop4cU0tqgxQ5IM1Jg-bXDTSK7XuADyApzh/s2500/kruger.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1406" data-original-width="2500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsv0ww0zrGxC1ByhMM5UexVnZU8sx3mM4pYaxjlncbzODMXSJEw7rAbVr5DV3CxhiLVZ-q7ee2BayUhOcJCBcdxzfA0vP98J-XrKm2O_k1AO5wP_ZMuH8xN8Q6LYwQcvEMlE1Lsn6Zr6KJtADAh2OqRop4cU0tqgxQ5IM1Jg-bXDTSK7XuADyApzh/s320/kruger.jpeg"/></a></div>
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-57017188690941857352023-02-21T07:08:00.005+08:002023-03-01T15:42:10.459+08:00African Tour:Kruger National Park part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjBUzIQJPxJz3M6FJ7BUqDoNbtV8boKFusaKlQNhSjHu-o8KyrSJsRx8RF2aytGPKuoSu4RDTl_gSBjzuS6X9f4-TvYTgv5NtW7scv5tMog0mTBioUFmYRPClbeATpMzaJVC2YWIFmeT4dqF_6tIOhNve9xywYnwV6lZqHEx83sxsXaxSb9usK5K8i/s1500/Phalaborwa%20Gate.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjBUzIQJPxJz3M6FJ7BUqDoNbtV8boKFusaKlQNhSjHu-o8KyrSJsRx8RF2aytGPKuoSu4RDTl_gSBjzuS6X9f4-TvYTgv5NtW7scv5tMog0mTBioUFmYRPClbeATpMzaJVC2YWIFmeT4dqF_6tIOhNve9xywYnwV6lZqHEx83sxsXaxSb9usK5K8i/s320/Phalaborwa%20Gate.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Phalaborwa Gate</center>
<br>
For our second day at Kruger, we entered at the same Phabeni Gate in the morning, but left through the Phalaborwa Gate in the evening. Instead of exploring the southern end of the park, we drove north from Phabeni and explored the middle section. Since Phalaborwa is about 170km from Phabeni, that meant a longer drive back to Hazyview, but everyone was happy that we did not have to wake up any earlier.
<br><br>
In addition to all the marked roads you can drive around and look for animals, there are designated areas of the park where you can get out of your car. There are also ample hiking trails. Driving is the best way to get around Kruger, but you do not have to stay in your car the entire time. The biggest rule, aside from the prohibition against murdering the wildlife, is to stay in your car any time you are close to any of the Big Five. They can all kill you effortlessly. Elephants and lions mostly do not, unless you piss them off. Leopards are more likely to run away. Buffalo and rhinos will kill you as a matter of principle.
<br><br>
Kruger is mostly untamed wilderness, with paved roads and plenty of signs. The park also houses a surprising amount of civilization, at least compared to the immediate environment outside its borders. There are gas stations near most of the gates, which are terribly convenient when driving around all day. There are a variety of places to sleep inside the park, from expensive all-inclusive lodges to small self-catering huts to tents in the grass, though all have to be booked months in advance. Some of the rest camps have middle of the road accommodations, restaurants, shops, gas stations, and something every game reserve needs, ATMs.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3R7bqkgtqC-hdnTUuRtxjzj71QfmNc2hnRvzwIf4rVWpu2hkZ6N3oKpvJeUNCQnf3TdQhOKaKJR2VDd2XiInBS7VqQZrlDqUFcSNzTrv2OYr1-psJ1fdv7-hKxyW9lbwMRolAifZhis56Qc643iKQvzNPwKagfzWv1DNCxWXeSsTOxKOSMYI8GIZ/s2560/Skukuza.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1700" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3R7bqkgtqC-hdnTUuRtxjzj71QfmNc2hnRvzwIf4rVWpu2hkZ6N3oKpvJeUNCQnf3TdQhOKaKJR2VDd2XiInBS7VqQZrlDqUFcSNzTrv2OYr1-psJ1fdv7-hKxyW9lbwMRolAifZhis56Qc643iKQvzNPwKagfzWv1DNCxWXeSsTOxKOSMYI8GIZ/s320/Skukuza.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Sabie River from Skukuza Rest Camp</center>
<br>
Since we left Hazyview early every morning and came back after sunset, we did most of our eating inside Kruger. Skukuza is practically a tiny village inside the park. Both restaurants served a wide variety of international cuisine, the main store had everything you could ever need while driving around a national park all day, and there was a nice walking path along the Sabie River. It also had a library and golf course, though I cannot imagine having enough time for either when the days were so short.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRWfZtWq5fPOwQX45f-mTOUezNLEReQZT-zFiZ8KLP7QxpluMjTuBKk9laLIpWyg2YdqU7tVsZrXHEGBx65iDxN_OaVpIg14vdPK3ENNaD_G6SDFC2VaZeqsLDIpKXFfsC90v3T5SJj0e4Sc1yOOOFp_mtcXjScBlN2EvSwhYzzMaTdeaI1kO2iyp/s2560/Lower%20Sabie.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglRWfZtWq5fPOwQX45f-mTOUezNLEReQZT-zFiZ8KLP7QxpluMjTuBKk9laLIpWyg2YdqU7tVsZrXHEGBx65iDxN_OaVpIg14vdPK3ENNaD_G6SDFC2VaZeqsLDIpKXFfsC90v3T5SJj0e4Sc1yOOOFp_mtcXjScBlN2EvSwhYzzMaTdeaI1kO2iyp/s320/Lower%20Sabie.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Lower Sabie Rest Camp</center>
<br>
Though much smaller than Skukuza, Lower Sabie has the best restaurant in all of Kruger. The outdoor terrace overlooks the Sabie River, where you can watch elephants and lions get a drink while you eat lunch, yet every table is safely in the shade. Their store is more gift shop than supplies, but people have to buy coffee mugs with their names on them from somewhere.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFHMrg7xAUl7KFX4xQsx7p3VeAsYhbUeAoH8BlZCV4mQYWJwUf3IjxYjA60neBl1EnAPixKJQhVhSU6P_165NQwW8I-IMM0xTBDSS94cuyF5YF2ntScgb4T5tTlj_eC-gMZb4cGHKqjZmA2ZaIzMDRkBUEji6cy2uQ_DGNd_LXvHKiVSYcb7oftMJv/s2560/Olifants.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFHMrg7xAUl7KFX4xQsx7p3VeAsYhbUeAoH8BlZCV4mQYWJwUf3IjxYjA60neBl1EnAPixKJQhVhSU6P_165NQwW8I-IMM0xTBDSS94cuyF5YF2ntScgb4T5tTlj_eC-gMZb4cGHKqjZmA2ZaIzMDRkBUEji6cy2uQ_DGNd_LXvHKiVSYcb7oftMJv/s320/Olifants.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Olifants River from Olifants Rest Camp</center>
<br>
Olifants is a basic spot to take a pit stop and is mostly unremarkable. Except that it sits on a small hill over the Olifants River. There are multiple vantage points to stare at the river and watch elephants, lions, hippos, and crocodiles leave each other alone.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1aLnn9Y9dcIitl4LWHaHceRRcfhAgupmgh8wpfkvaFLtP43diwoC7_9MIEeppeYBbTdeFgxoutW0sHmpLxldFI5QeqDlN91duGMFbvjO5ivGKRCcf_HfB-PQJ5ybBVYOUC7rHD0euzsTzEcwclOjDT0iQl_76KAnPJOAkkL4tCTz6gWmUfvXjyE7q/s2500/Mopani.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1309" data-original-width="2500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1aLnn9Y9dcIitl4LWHaHceRRcfhAgupmgh8wpfkvaFLtP43diwoC7_9MIEeppeYBbTdeFgxoutW0sHmpLxldFI5QeqDlN91duGMFbvjO5ivGKRCcf_HfB-PQJ5ybBVYOUC7rHD0euzsTzEcwclOjDT0iQl_76KAnPJOAkkL4tCTz6gWmUfvXjyE7q/s320/Mopani.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Tsende River from Mopani Rest Camp</center>
<br>
Mopani has a decent little coffee shop and plenty of views of the Tsende River.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TfurcFLJTLR6sg4s7hcqW3tS0fY38IqLna03tdBmZPezwKChYBL7MUf2tnUeEiwcNGvBQal-Ml8mVb3Gn_kFTLUZzXpVQolRtx4yHW9lW6MaKm15PEvWwinhDbMyqKSj4mXh2sVVheaGm-QW5GyNbzwLMe9dmp9Mdu70lFfUzjJ_XPeOMQI53A4I/s2940/guineafowl.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="2940" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TfurcFLJTLR6sg4s7hcqW3tS0fY38IqLna03tdBmZPezwKChYBL7MUf2tnUeEiwcNGvBQal-Ml8mVb3Gn_kFTLUZzXpVQolRtx4yHW9lW6MaKm15PEvWwinhDbMyqKSj4mXh2sVVheaGm-QW5GyNbzwLMe9dmp9Mdu70lFfUzjJ_XPeOMQI53A4I/s320/guineafowl.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Guineafowl at Punda Maria Rest Camp</center>
<br>
Punda Maria is the northernmost rest camp, and pretty basic. The tiny restaurant is more fast food than diner and the shop looks like a small 7-Eleven. But the area around the camp is a birdwatcher's paradise and several species of antelope hang out in the area. Unfortunately, there is no river nearby, so large mammal spotting is less likely.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-43627490507757755722023-02-17T07:34:00.003+08:002023-03-01T15:00:28.133+08:00African Tour:Kruger National Park part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHywjFehqNNzcr2n2cI-LQP6RmE3el12g7ssatJY_fiedBuhEIVBT9B7eJXJaVGCKrQt9XAAxbtTBh56DA2H39TcUdXT32TRxeM2YSYycMy4C6NszvpivDffHDkTsbh3-MNgQ_iWB4LmCREQb6BdyLsXW7QdORmPttjgRnTcoLOXkxg5O8eJhofWN/s2167/knp_map.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="2167" data-original-width="834" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzHywjFehqNNzcr2n2cI-LQP6RmE3el12g7ssatJY_fiedBuhEIVBT9B7eJXJaVGCKrQt9XAAxbtTBh56DA2H39TcUdXT32TRxeM2YSYycMy4C6NszvpivDffHDkTsbh3-MNgQ_iWB4LmCREQb6BdyLsXW7QdORmPttjgRnTcoLOXkxg5O8eJhofWN/s320/knp_map.jpg"/></a></div>
<br>
Kruger National Park is enormous. It covers about two million hectares, which is roughly the size of New Jersey or Israel. Though rarely more than 60-80km wide, the park is over 350km long. Driving straight through from end to end without stopping would take all day. Not stopping for any reason would defeat the purpose of going to the park. We knew we were never going to see it all in what little time we had. We decided to get in early every day and concentrate on a different section of the park.
<br><br>
All of the gates opened at 05:30. I would have preferred to get there earlier. The best times to spot most of the animals away from their beds were sunrise and sunset. The more elusive creatures liked to nap in the middle of the day when it was hottest. My roommates were not enthusiastic about waking before dawn, but they knew that our time was limited. Since the gates closed before sunset, our best chances were in the early morning hours.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNwpWo4wuQnGdww-M7DoEq4Xhb7GZN2_aWWPQ4GTTvQoxahTN9c2QsfXMPPGdomDhXQ_mBBYIe-tQjM2n0mSXPNiAGSAvx-jfix2Jwoik9QJnYm-r5FplcbYRPHB04EmA-8fndEYr9e-qt2RRu9ek8si8OfguHbSyZ0i9vWk7E5-niObkqcr_zR-W/s2400/Phabeni%20Gate.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNwpWo4wuQnGdww-M7DoEq4Xhb7GZN2_aWWPQ4GTTvQoxahTN9c2QsfXMPPGdomDhXQ_mBBYIe-tQjM2n0mSXPNiAGSAvx-jfix2Jwoik9QJnYm-r5FplcbYRPHB04EmA-8fndEYr9e-qt2RRu9ek8si8OfguHbSyZ0i9vWk7E5-niObkqcr_zR-W/s320/Phabeni%20Gate.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Phabeni Gate</center>
<br>
The only way to get into Kruger, legally, is through one of nine gates spread out around the park. Our hotel was a quick drive to the Phabeni Gate, so it made the most sense to go there first. But if we entered that gate every day, we would always be in that section of the park. To see more of the park, it made sense to enter through different gates each day, which required longer drive times. That meant waking up even earlier to be there by 05:30. I never had a problem with that. My roommates were less enthusiastic.
<br><br>
We entered the Phabeni Gate just after 05:30 on our first day. That meant waking up an hour before the sun. I have always been a morning person. My travel companions were not. Only one of them was capable of waking herself that early. The other two were like teenagers on the day of a big test. Except that they volunteered for this. They wanted to see Kruger and take pictures of animals. They simply wanted it to happen later in the day.
<br><br>
I knew that getting there early was a good idea as soon as we got there. Though it was just after 05:30, there was a line to get in. It moved slowly, and I could imagine how long it might take later in the day when there were ten times as many cars. Fortunately, the park is so large that even if you drive in with a few hundred other people, you can drive around all day and never see them again.
<br><br>
We also discovered pretty early that our 4 wheel drive jeep was completely unnecessary. The main roads in the park were well paved. Even the dirt trails were smooth enough for the average sedan. The most rugged off-road driving was where the general public was not allowed to go anyway. Instead of the Mercedes-Benz W463, we could have rented a brand new E-Class. Not that the jeep was uncomfortable, but I would not mind driving a proper Mercedes across Mpumalanga.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiviaEeCIpl8koNJqOLUR0fRaWId7_Yp646FU1kaDJ9Gof61Ug45jUvxv7xvZe4F2TrBsnfJkCJ-QiiplQUlb4pCykFDFFao1f_v77cP2z2phSyFk1-1yoZ_n6x3OdlwT-FuGGowDlVKZXHpUZMI2qXCM2IZtzD3rcyQh_oB154gEefPU75wjGk2Cl_/s2400/zebra%20giraffe.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="2400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiviaEeCIpl8koNJqOLUR0fRaWId7_Yp646FU1kaDJ9Gof61Ug45jUvxv7xvZe4F2TrBsnfJkCJ-QiiplQUlb4pCykFDFFao1f_v77cP2z2phSyFk1-1yoZ_n6x3OdlwT-FuGGowDlVKZXHpUZMI2qXCM2IZtzD3rcyQh_oB154gEefPU75wjGk2Cl_/s320/zebra%20giraffe.jpg"/></a></div>
The main reason to drive through Kruger National Park is to look at animals in their natural habitat. The park provides all kinds of maps and apps to find whatever creature you want to see. The problem is that none of the animals know when or where they are scheduled to appear. Some animals are inevitable. We spotted antelopes and zebra near the side of the road before we even entered the park, and saw thousands more inside. They were not as skittish as any of the giraffe we saw, but they never let us get close. Most people want to see the “Big Five”, elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo, lion, and leopard. They were supposedly the hardest to hunt back when hunting was allowed. Now that they can only be shot with cameras, they are the top attractions, for some reason.
<br><br>
I can see why people actively seek leopards. They are solitary, they know how to hide in trees, they are essentially invisible in the tall grass, and they want nothing to do with humans. There are a thousand leopards living at Kruger. We saw none.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIuPmagJDBYvZOq5tCR5udHz4kfwp6E54dntHnkzRr2DpYxu5tWgmWu9hRvdWF3Tcj5uKltd01DtH92smKJNzgw_S5CiLPj29oiYKdaEOyuRKAH-3VIuRLsGD3xe_G1GX2e4S0fcrPvGNZizVxOi_ihPJzVBGYV8teuFPCUN4TsYlSQ38WNJ8Sd97/s2600/rhinos.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1733" data-original-width="2600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIuPmagJDBYvZOq5tCR5udHz4kfwp6E54dntHnkzRr2DpYxu5tWgmWu9hRvdWF3Tcj5uKltd01DtH92smKJNzgw_S5CiLPj29oiYKdaEOyuRKAH-3VIuRLsGD3xe_G1GX2e4S0fcrPvGNZizVxOi_ihPJzVBGYV8teuFPCUN4TsYlSQ38WNJ8Sd97/s320/rhinos.jpg"/></a></div>
The rhinoceros is much easier to find, but not an animal you want to meet up close. Kruger has both black rhinos and white rhinos, whose numbers are increasing thanks to a greater effort to protect them and more aggressive prosecutions of poachers. The funniest thing about black and white rhinos is that they are neither black nor white. The British called white rhinos white because they misunderstood the Dutch name, similar to how they called Nederlanders Dutch because they confused them with the Deutsche. Black rhinos, like white rhinos, are gray and brown. We saw a few rhinos, but since they were all gray, we have no idea if they were black or white.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNERSQzndDcIPNqtHYG7yPHCVlUm6LbswDYsmGDrfbx4lTCpRSFnzO72TzWARA1XBrvHjA66mV7zLB9XfLNCUsqv9ke7yxlLfWxbTreKEBmAlxFn2WnS4_9-0FqFid2o7Lylx1tZRtFHo3jSaBH_TsFaF11IfRFa_-Jv9p0BygmqyWu6G0GDd3LWVt/s1200/buffalo.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNERSQzndDcIPNqtHYG7yPHCVlUm6LbswDYsmGDrfbx4lTCpRSFnzO72TzWARA1XBrvHjA66mV7zLB9XfLNCUsqv9ke7yxlLfWxbTreKEBmAlxFn2WnS4_9-0FqFid2o7Lylx1tZRtFHo3jSaBH_TsFaF11IfRFa_-Jv9p0BygmqyWu6G0GDd3LWVt/s320/buffalo.jpg"/></a></div>
There are more buffalo at Kruger than any of the other Big Five. Spotting them is pretty easy since they travel in large herds and are never far from water. Getting close is impossible. African buffalo are nothing like American buffalo/bison. While American bison are pretty easy to slaughter en masse, African buffalo will not hesitate to kill anyone who gets too close. They have strong horns, weigh a ton, and are relentless. While a rhinoceros might run you over and run away, a buffalo will trample you, turn around, and go back for more until the job is done. That was why all the big manly hunter men saw their rotting corpses as prized trophies. None of your buddies back at the bar would be impressed if you killed a turkey, but if you cut the head off an animal that could easily kill you without a second thought, that should help everyone forget about how tiny your penis is.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe4SrN-WA8DOcCE9lek2QTx7SmNBImhX5dyzvqCTsAtUb5QVaSUF-kZRO9EfEsdMqXtDDQwSio0O6N0jjAmwQliI_-Fxvch9ZVEkzyiQYvfjuv-gMSTgKX_fRsjbFmyIA485YIRKuzE-vxJ-S6OiauxZRKjSCVowC5kZ0VE8MGz4ftW0De6Yg7RST/s1920/lions.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe4SrN-WA8DOcCE9lek2QTx7SmNBImhX5dyzvqCTsAtUb5QVaSUF-kZRO9EfEsdMqXtDDQwSio0O6N0jjAmwQliI_-Fxvch9ZVEkzyiQYvfjuv-gMSTgKX_fRsjbFmyIA485YIRKuzE-vxJ-S6OiauxZRKjSCVowC5kZ0VE8MGz4ftW0De6Yg7RST/s320/lions.jpg"/></a></div>
Lions are the king of the jungle, which is a little ironic since they do not live in the jungle. Their numbers at Kruger are almost as small as leopards, but they are much easier to find since they live in groups and congregate out in the open. With no fear of any other animals, they see no reason to hide, and they are not at all impressed by humans. Everyone at Kruger is told to roll up all windows when driving close to lions. If they feel like it, they will climb onto your car. Our sturdy jeep would have been safe, but if you are in a Toyota Corolla, they are going to cause damage. The problem with lions is that you want to see them catch a zebra in some dramatic fashion, but they mostly just lie around during the daytime. Almost all of their hunting is at night when it is much cooler and the park is closed to visitors. We saw plenty of lions at Kruger. The most they did was stand up to go lie down somewhere else.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHmwSqX02kKNR-uBwBZt1mqaawOQZgi_5PgurGfuVx2emYoPfkL27v02LT_5DjQU5Fd4soqrCj4hWFK8MIoxw8uv5WTdx8PgPqukcKokmX9czeHkOkcB00oIP9dJVOuUxsbDMTRxBX2Hnp4lcs31Ynkt_VH8mrCdzy9_1KyCs23wlOzwaLdIw-bf5/s2400/elephants_pierre-yves%20babelon.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1146" data-original-width="2400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHmwSqX02kKNR-uBwBZt1mqaawOQZgi_5PgurGfuVx2emYoPfkL27v02LT_5DjQU5Fd4soqrCj4hWFK8MIoxw8uv5WTdx8PgPqukcKokmX9czeHkOkcB00oIP9dJVOuUxsbDMTRxBX2Hnp4lcs31Ynkt_VH8mrCdzy9_1KyCs23wlOzwaLdIw-bf5/s320/elephants_pierre-yves%20babelon.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Photograph by Pierre-Yves Babelon</center>
<br>
Elephants are the easiest of the Big Five. They are huge creatures that are easy to spot at a distance, though not as easy as giraffes, they travel in groups, and they are rarely aggressive. You can get pretty close to a female elephant. It is the males you have to watch out for, and only when they are horny. Conveniently, they let you know when to stay away. If a male is leaking fluid from the side of its head, or any elephant flaps its ears and loudly raises is trunk, it is time to move along. Otherwise, you can drive right up to them, slowly. The only time I did not want to get close was when a few other cars were around our elephant. He was almost surrounded and it was only a matter of time before he felt threatened. Since we were in front of him, I did not want to be there when he started flipping cars.
<br><br>
Kruger is big enough that you can drive around all day and never see another human. But sometimes you run into them. People driving through the park can follow whatever route they want. Some like to follow the guides. They think they are more likely to spot more animals if they stay close to the professionals. They are probably right. Since we were in a jeep, we would get someone following us every once in a while, even though official jeeps were an obviously different style, shape, and color from our car.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0C5DV_5pIAPlGkITZUNQp2F-EjjeQEcw9rCD3hvC1mpKr6c1zEpVsSZ4ZoOa9JTZLIJFjVq6SnMqbfzVn1lemV6fttgv8uTVlBrbeBfQuSpL1MBv3DEeK-MNgt_yz00uz6xcUK3AgHh-bz70e0GfzfKguZFlNwHJqqrC9zcWFllQoOEt59gHuh5pr/s1140/Crocodile%20Bridge%20Gate.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="759" data-original-width="1140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0C5DV_5pIAPlGkITZUNQp2F-EjjeQEcw9rCD3hvC1mpKr6c1zEpVsSZ4ZoOa9JTZLIJFjVq6SnMqbfzVn1lemV6fttgv8uTVlBrbeBfQuSpL1MBv3DEeK-MNgt_yz00uz6xcUK3AgHh-bz70e0GfzfKguZFlNwHJqqrC9zcWFllQoOEt59gHuh5pr/s320/Crocodile%20Bridge%20Gate.jpg"/></a></div>
We left the park just minutes before they closed the gates. Since we entered through the Phabeni Gate, we decided to exit at the Crocodile Bridge Gate. That gave us the entire foot of Kruger to explore. Since we left just before closing, there was almost as long a line to get out as there had been to get in. While all of the gates are at well paved roads, to get out of the park at the Crocodile Bridge Gate, you have to cross a ramshackle wooden bridge over the Crocodile River. The bridge is barely wide enough for one car at a time, so the line moves slowly.
<br><br>
Outside of the park, it is a quick drive near the Mozambique border to the N4 and about two hours to Hazyview. Since we were in no hurry to leave, we all decided it was better to drive the long way home than to drive farther to get into the park. We also quickly realized that we might want to eat most of our meals inside the park. Hazyview is not a 24 hour town, and while it is surrounded by beautiful scenery, there are not a lot of options if you want to pick up a bite on the way home.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-60279886498131768392023-02-09T08:29:00.006+08:002023-03-02T15:39:43.938+08:00African Tour:Drakensberg Escarpment part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTgcuc1prw531Sz3E3Jpp66jyW1sMKdOYP7Y9SNSzA_VzdHyRs05ay6royR9IoUycVytl3mStkh__1VuTiBVqzd6ZpnCA0Co-FAluzAOMIl9XGKgyAXlBb2N3tKIfFBuyHxSL4gaHQQeBkeo4kGXulixNDM-lii_9_zDhrwPWYLNO3RdwVSZsGzYT/s1280/HLA.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTgcuc1prw531Sz3E3Jpp66jyW1sMKdOYP7Y9SNSzA_VzdHyRs05ay6royR9IoUycVytl3mStkh__1VuTiBVqzd6ZpnCA0Co-FAluzAOMIl9XGKgyAXlBb2N3tKIfFBuyHxSL4gaHQQeBkeo4kGXulixNDM-lii_9_zDhrwPWYLNO3RdwVSZsGzYT/s320/HLA.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Lanseria International Airport
<br>Johannesburg, South Africa</center>
<br>
After we finished our last show in Cape Town, we had a few extra days before we were scheduled to fly to Nairobi. The plan was for everyone to hang out in Cape Town and enjoy the city. I could have easily done that. We spent more time in Cape Town than anywhere else in all of Africa. I could have spent a few extra weeks or months in Cape Town. But an opportunity came up that I knew I had to take.
<br><br>
Four of us flew back to Johannesburg. Not because we liked Johannesburg more than Cape Town. Far from it. Cape Town is an objectively better city. We flew to Johannesburg because we wanted to go to Kruger National Park. There are closer airports to Kruger, and even one in the park itself, but we decided that something larger, like Johannesburg's Lanseria International Airport, would probably have safer planes. More importantly, I heard good things about the drive to Kruger and I wanted to take it.
<br><br>
We rented a car at Lanseria, which was just as easy as renting a car anywhere else in South Africa. The only thing they cared about was making extra drivers pay an extra fee. Once again, the car we rented had a manual transmission and I was the only one who could drive it. Even if it had been an automatic, I doubt anyone else would have wanted to drive.
<br><br>
We rented a light gray 2018 Mercedes-Benz W463 5 speed. Though older than most rental cars, this one was in excellent shape and had surprisingly few miles. At least before I got my hands on it. People in my country think of Mercedes as a luxury car. South Africans have a more European view. This was a utility truck that was not designed to turn heads. It looked like a big jeep. We chose a truck over a sedan because we figured we might need something that could go off-road at Kruger. We also knew the drive through the Drakensberg Escarpment would be rugged, though any car could have made it. Most of the roads were every bit as paved as any major highway in Western Europe. A few were even brand new.
<br><br>
From Lanseria Airport, we drove half an hour up into Pretoria where we took a sharp east turn onto highway N4. After about two hours, we turned north onto R36 and drove for an hour to Lydenburg, which was a good place for a pit stop. Lydenburg is to the Drakensberg Escarpment as Merced is to Yosemite. A small town with little to offer, it had enough fuel for the car and our bodies.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjuZrjw9sCQ4sUZrWzsmVjEgCPVcfSNC0P7v_IgtzzU_NCZaiqIFpu9zw3-pLzW7RxpB2WmG7ZHU7PwgDRJvpr0Uk_hIBTCiiw7z9agem3xYSS3bpYAol6GsAF4aNeEv6xSUFWKn7ExX1ukuCNsJDMotY0IbkR29jwdQEvheJVrmOgMa7XbM6BCNI/s2126/Long%20Tom%20Pass.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="2126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjuZrjw9sCQ4sUZrWzsmVjEgCPVcfSNC0P7v_IgtzzU_NCZaiqIFpu9zw3-pLzW7RxpB2WmG7ZHU7PwgDRJvpr0Uk_hIBTCiiw7z9agem3xYSS3bpYAol6GsAF4aNeEv6xSUFWKn7ExX1ukuCNsJDMotY0IbkR29jwdQEvheJVrmOgMa7XbM6BCNI/s320/Long%20Tom%20Pass.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Long Tom Pass</center>
<br>
From Lydenburg, we took R37 east to Sabie. This was where the drive got interesting. Lydenburg is more or less flat. R37 gradually goes uphill for 13km, at which point it becomes a standard mountain drive of endless ups and downs. R37 is nothing but nature until about 18km from Lydenburg. Right off the road is an entrance to a farm. There is no way to tell how large the farm is, but you see nothing from the road besides the entrance gate and miles and miles of grazing cows. Five or six kilometers from the farm gate is Long Tom Pass, the beginning of the Panorama Route, so called because the scenery immediately gets more impressive than farms and fields. It is like Chapman's Peak Drive, only with valleys and mountains instead of city and ocean. Long Tom Pass is the first point where you can really see how high up in the mountains you are.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-CF3bsf2_tyCS7QnnMTo8J7p5krl4dPnnhreZNH9KOim_JvJp9qP03SPsRiGu2NbnqXKkWguKzloEk6j-aL0A2AbEUTfZpR7Y-RXb1wHf7cK_Y-DSPIw9lWiPv8w4ki-P1JiZNQM_WnqEIwALB25YHVK72Ps6lOLH73kNFx8bskvWuV8uJkn05X0/s1500/Panorama%20Route.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-CF3bsf2_tyCS7QnnMTo8J7p5krl4dPnnhreZNH9KOim_JvJp9qP03SPsRiGu2NbnqXKkWguKzloEk6j-aL0A2AbEUTfZpR7Y-RXb1wHf7cK_Y-DSPIw9lWiPv8w4ki-P1JiZNQM_WnqEIwALB25YHVK72Ps6lOLH73kNFx8bskvWuV8uJkn05X0/s320/Panorama%20Route.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Part of the Panorama Route</center>
<br>
Deep into Long Tom Pass is Long Tom, a large canon that was used against the English during the Second Boer War. It could not be more out of place, sitting on a hill and facing an endless natural view of mountains and the valleys below.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpAcfoefOxNsXErCV3xdT6XldmQHGd0w_O3KKQoOe4mpp9JA3rRmDdGmE6XNd5yr4Q1oC7KpFQws7r_kWSbMCJoJSZAuOfULHj2YbCXWpBzz7Ptrz_7lAQhTFFc7sdblSoMWcCtMuv4tJkxDWo9HBmyraw1Yi6UDRfnbG8MLIfOhyl3aJJZWSVSk8/s1024/Sabie%20Falls_Mariaan%20Buys.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpAcfoefOxNsXErCV3xdT6XldmQHGd0w_O3KKQoOe4mpp9JA3rRmDdGmE6XNd5yr4Q1oC7KpFQws7r_kWSbMCJoJSZAuOfULHj2YbCXWpBzz7Ptrz_7lAQhTFFc7sdblSoMWcCtMuv4tJkxDWo9HBmyraw1Yi6UDRfnbG8MLIfOhyl3aJJZWSVSk8/s320/Sabie%20Falls_Mariaan%20Buys.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Sabie Falls
<br>Photograph by Mariaan Buys</center>
<br>
Sabie is home to more than a few waterfalls. The Sabie River covers some rugged terrain. Sometimes that river has no choice but to plummet down a gorge or into a valley. The closest waterfall from the city of Sabie is, appropriately, Sabie Falls. It is easy to get to and not all that impressive. My last real boyfriend was from Cape Town. One of the reasons I wanted to take this drive was to see all the things he talked about, and promised to show me, when we took the someday trip to Kruger National Park that never happened. He talked about a few waterfalls. Sabie Falls was not one of them.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPTgR7UOcnKZrFa3QU6XHgFjeND_H0e52QJXEBHKUZ392A4oGCXXIJzVGb0g4-9owutWGUGXC-_vG4gJGp6o32-nZ5k3CfzB1k9wGHLQ41wxYRNwYI1uSTHyo4xAiGEidlJj0aexcT3Hk0dkDkzxHvGpcdP0uw4h9_K0U9BCgRSPeGejE5nZU7asH/s2048/Bridal%20Veil%20Falls.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPTgR7UOcnKZrFa3QU6XHgFjeND_H0e52QJXEBHKUZ392A4oGCXXIJzVGb0g4-9owutWGUGXC-_vG4gJGp6o32-nZ5k3CfzB1k9wGHLQ41wxYRNwYI1uSTHyo4xAiGEidlJj0aexcT3Hk0dkDkzxHvGpcdP0uw4h9_K0U9BCgRSPeGejE5nZU7asH/s320/Bridal%20Veil%20Falls.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Bridal Veil Falls</center>
<br>
From Sabie Falls, we drove five or six kilometers west to Bridal Veil Falls, an exceptionally thin waterfall that drops about 70 meters. The area is surrounded by hiking trails and is probably an excellent place to walk around all day. We had less time.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vYvUTMEy--GBp53kcUsoWf2zkebZH6WOqByqWvkSPsJ_KhUFco6BmiGfh1VPYMORkDYdLbqK2dQcIr6KgD1CnPokaNPmyWgCVHnSriTRGSNGYZX-D6fFlnBFLbtyznFhM_CkSJ4_nrrz_VONigkg_5TeD5DTjg1MZ02UzfpYW43UkoMHhHLmZ25T/s1600/Lone%20Creek%20Falls.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vYvUTMEy--GBp53kcUsoWf2zkebZH6WOqByqWvkSPsJ_KhUFco6BmiGfh1VPYMORkDYdLbqK2dQcIr6KgD1CnPokaNPmyWgCVHnSriTRGSNGYZX-D6fFlnBFLbtyznFhM_CkSJ4_nrrz_VONigkg_5TeD5DTjg1MZ02UzfpYW43UkoMHhHLmZ25T/s320/Lone%20Creek%20Falls.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Lone Creek Falls</center>
<br>
Lone Creek Falls is less than three kilometers from Bridal Veil Falls, but the drive is three times farther. Lone Creek Falls is another thin waterfall, about the same height as Bridal Veil Falls. Where Bridal Veil Falls drips into a tiny puddle, Lone Creek Falls fills a pool.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyreqR771uEblPxi-3qSoHTWIB054mKxwEiU19iupdlviHyGpZ0Vv1zh5tSO6dMTj46wAgrxJMwnEE3FIKt0iR3Vy6neXD-xjYlDHKgSlJ426YfB0K-CCMGqAhoBxRjQNae9rf6-7IbYn4zSRHE-vWMSDcn10xdztpGwdoh5_90Mad-6sD8eB1DdIE/s1920/Horseshoe%20Falls.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1272" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyreqR771uEblPxi-3qSoHTWIB054mKxwEiU19iupdlviHyGpZ0Vv1zh5tSO6dMTj46wAgrxJMwnEE3FIKt0iR3Vy6neXD-xjYlDHKgSlJ426YfB0K-CCMGqAhoBxRjQNae9rf6-7IbYn4zSRHE-vWMSDcn10xdztpGwdoh5_90Mad-6sD8eB1DdIE/s320/Horseshoe%20Falls.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Horseshoe Falls</center>
<br>
It took pretty much the same amount of time to get From Lone Creek Falls to Horseshoe Falls as it took to get from Bridal Veil Falls to Lone Creek Falls. They are conveniently spaced out evenly from north to south, with Sabie Falls a more or less equal distance from Bridal Veil Falls to the east. Horseshoe Falls are either three separate waterfalls right next to each other or one waterfall divided by plants and birds and rocks and things. Though short as waterfalls go, the area is completely natural. There are no wooden walkways or guide rails. Without the hiking trails, it would be impossible to find.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLChUIlpxuFBxwck4NDAk8cwwdoVEtdqUGJjfVYwrRSipYcYb8rOtN54D2UYF2KCSUEMaLbS6sutXr91yD8zg5ihP6au8l6pZiv243cnFCAut94GVhKELZep10h5gBykkcLo7PPSyMhQV5pfLaUl73s0VG_Kx9Xo7V5prbZFc1zS5nMRd38FHr5uD/s1200/Mac%20Mac%20Falls.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLChUIlpxuFBxwck4NDAk8cwwdoVEtdqUGJjfVYwrRSipYcYb8rOtN54D2UYF2KCSUEMaLbS6sutXr91yD8zg5ihP6au8l6pZiv243cnFCAut94GVhKELZep10h5gBykkcLo7PPSyMhQV5pfLaUl73s0VG_Kx9Xo7V5prbZFc1zS5nMRd38FHr5uD/s320/Mac%20Mac%20Falls.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Mac Mac Falls</center>
<br>
A little more than ten kilometers north on R532 from Sabie is Mac Mac Falls, another tall, thin waterfall. The big difference with Mac Mac Falls is that your vantage point is a higher elevation. Instead of looking up at the water crashing down in front of you, you look down at the water plummeting deep into a gorge that can only be reached with climbing equipment. Another difference is that Mac Mac Falls is incredibly close to the main road. The others require a quick hike through the wilderness. Mac Mac Falls is a short path away.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTbkj25p4ZGvsuBRu8t0D_8tE9kRE7kojDjUNN6QJFCLVUuHqkhf3Fo3A916hlLx87tuOgYGwBRmrWoyfn1WRIR4wRVTuijQrq6OXKsnuq6QFV8McCPwfkQCq8WKrvsIXrcQsjolVw9HuPd7qeu6YUD5IIsNH7o57HYQRvSI9r-mh1N4WSqND1Fw7/s1400/Panorama%20Route1_Freya%20Muller.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTbkj25p4ZGvsuBRu8t0D_8tE9kRE7kojDjUNN6QJFCLVUuHqkhf3Fo3A916hlLx87tuOgYGwBRmrWoyfn1WRIR4wRVTuijQrq6OXKsnuq6QFV8McCPwfkQCq8WKrvsIXrcQsjolVw9HuPd7qeu6YUD5IIsNH7o57HYQRvSI9r-mh1N4WSqND1Fw7/s320/Panorama%20Route1_Freya%20Muller.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Panorama Route
<br>Photograph by Freya Muller</center>
<br>
There was far more to see on the Panorama Route and beyond, but everything was getting harder to see as the sun began to go down. Ideally, we would have started our drive early in the morning, but we left from Cape Town, not Johannesburg. Everything else would have to wait until the drive back to the airport.
<br><br>
Our hotel for the next few nights was in Hazyview, a small town next to the Phabeni Gate at the southwest end of Kruger National Park. Hazyview was 60km from Mac Mac Falls. In the time it took to get there, we could have seen some amazing sights on the Panorama Route, but we wanted to get to our hotel before the people who ran the place were asleep.
<br><br>
In broad daylight, the hotel was pretty easy to find. From R536, turn left on Tarentaal Lane and follow it as it curves around, turn right on Eagle Street and follow its curve, make a sharp left on Blue Jay Crescent and keep driving almost until the end of the road. Turn left into a driveway and there you are. Easy as punch.
<br><br>
After the sun goes down, it gets a little trickier. There are no street lights beyond downtown Hazyview. Worse, street signs are few and far between. Those that exist are small with black lettering and unlit. You have to know which streets you want to turn on. We had GPS and the internet, neither of which were reliable in the rural suburbs of Mpumalanga. R536 is a main street. Tarentaal Lane is a tiny road in between trees and a small fruit stall. As it goes uphill, it borders a wall and more trees. Even in daylight, it was like driving with blinders on. Eagle Street is an equally tiny road in between trees and more trees. At least it has a few houses here and there. Blue Jay Crescent is the most difficult turn. There is a sign that is barely visible at high noon. At night, you would never guess that is the correct street. Rather than a paved road, it is dried mud. We passed it several times thinking it could not possibly be the street we wanted. Not only is the road not really a road, it looks like it goes deep into the woods. From Eagle Street, all you can see are trees converging. We called the hotel owners a time or two to confirm that we were in the right place. They seemed to think it would be a good idea if a group of women who had never set foot in the area and barely spoke the language should drive an unfamiliar car down the pitch black, empty road to nowhere in the middle of the night. So we did. The farther we drove, the more convinced I was that we were going the wrong way. Eventually, we saw a gate and a small sign that told us we were at the right place. Deep into the night, the gate was closed, but the owners were wide awake and expecting us. Not surprisingly, foreigners get lost on the way to their hotel all the time.
<br><br>
When you drive up to Blue Jay Lodge, day or night, it looks like you are driving up to someone's house. All you can see from the street are trees and a gate. Inside the gate, it looks like a small resort or wilderness lodge with a lot of trees all over the place. We stayed in a rondavel, a round South African style house with a high, conical roof. The roof is probably a great relief in the summer, trapping heat several feet above the rest of the room. The temperature never got above the mid-20s while we were there, so the high roof never mattered to us. Each two story rondavel was divided in two. With four people in two rooms, we took up an entire floor. Each room had a kitchen, which was kind of a waste since we only used one and only rarely. We ate most of our meals inside Kruger National Park. The lodge provided an enormous breakfast spread every morning. Since we always left for the park before sunrise, we only had their breakfast when we checked out.
<br><br>
All of our accommodation before this point was at houses where we were on our own and hotels that had standard hotel food. This was our first bed and breakfast situation. In addition to our made to order breakfast, there was a variety of exotic cheeses, breads, and the freshest fruit I have seen in years. None of it was exotic to South Africans, but Taiwan is not a cheese or bread culture, so pretty much anything beyond cheddar, mozzarella, and white toast is a treat. Fresh fruit is rare too, for some reason. Plenty of tropical fruits grow on the island, but no one seems to sell them until a few days after they have been picked. The Blue Jay Lodge had some fruits commonly found in Taiwan, like kiwi, pineapple, and strawberries, but everything looked like it was brought in from the farm that morning.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-564109939155993252023-01-30T02:25:00.003+08:002023-02-01T20:21:29.421+08:00African Tour:Cape Town part 5Cape Town is one of the world's great outdoor cities. There are ample opportunities for skydiving, paragliding, hiking, running, horseback riding, cycling, kayaking, surfing, kite surfing, diving, snorkeling, swimming, and pretty much anything you want to do outdoors all year round. The rainy season is in winter, June to August, though it never really rains all that much. Cape Town's wettest month barely gets more rain than Hong Kong's driest month. We were there in November, the end of spring. There were a couple of days when it looked like it might rain, and we had a pretty good thunderstorm one night, but it never rained enough to make any difference to our plans.
<br><br>
My travel companions were Taiwanese, who are generally not great lovers of the outdoors. Finding someone to hike with was always easy. Most hiking paths in Taiwan are shaded by trees, so they assumed hiking in Cape Town would be the same. Kayaking and paragliding was a little harder. Getting someone to go swimming was damn near impossible.
<br><br>
We had a backyard swimming pool in Durban. No such luck in Cape Town. The backyard was large enough for a pool. The neighbor to our immediate right had one. We did not. Fortunately, Cape Town has plenty of beaches.
<br><br>
Cape Town beaches are usually divided between the Atlantic side and Indian side, even though the Indian Ocean does not actually touch Cape Town. Since all of the coasts are on the Atlantic, it would be more accurate to divide the beaches between the western peninsula and False Bay. No one does, though. Everything on the west coast is considered the Atlantic side while False Bay is the Indian side. The only reason it makes any sense is because the protected water in False Bay is much warmer than the wide open and cold Atlantic coast.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRPgVScdswV5EV7-Rn3w2GMRTLphCc0Ws6bk2b9TRRIBlNY_AY8KWeHT7nTIiPYwzZTZ72CC5sC4hUz_NZGtpTR8qA6yWPe1vP6_2CDiZg_tZ-1dYgBkM3XsUnMPJlHOoE_xBQTzRZ4WD-gpSgwkJ31OF_uVK2dNnhpn6dulq1pwWDKtmx1mrGrPj-/s2560/boulders.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRPgVScdswV5EV7-Rn3w2GMRTLphCc0Ws6bk2b9TRRIBlNY_AY8KWeHT7nTIiPYwzZTZ72CC5sC4hUz_NZGtpTR8qA6yWPe1vP6_2CDiZg_tZ-1dYgBkM3XsUnMPJlHOoE_xBQTzRZ4WD-gpSgwkJ31OF_uVK2dNnhpn6dulq1pwWDKtmx1mrGrPj-/s320/boulders.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Boulders Beach</center>
<br>
Our house was in Simon's Town, which is on False Bay, the “Indian” side. We pretty much all went to Boulders Beach, mostly because it is near the penguins. The beach itself is small and has far too many rocks to be anything other than scenic. That often means secluded. Unless it is right next to the only penguin colony in Africa anywhere near a city. The best thing Boulders has going for it, other than penguins, is the warm water. Not only is False Bay warmer than the Atlantic, but Boulders and Foxy Beach are in a bit of a cove. They are sheltered from the sheltered water. There are several tiny beaches in the Simon's Town area. Most of them look like Boulders and have the same combination of sand and giant rocks.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDhQ-0Fa9AJD5SYmiclXrZqEYv7cvck0zexsOh93kYeU-7SG6HEx2H2JzpeMCbPwJ2laAATMK2uT7PYWAb9i3-z5H0AY_ofKGZJ5THJ245G2MsrQs8xC1Em0sv1ktsw3Wfl5rjR2Dj5D55Q1SZgPScAij8On8NeBtdfN9OROqVSQro6tgII2_6q26/s2560/Fish%20Hoek.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDhQ-0Fa9AJD5SYmiclXrZqEYv7cvck0zexsOh93kYeU-7SG6HEx2H2JzpeMCbPwJ2laAATMK2uT7PYWAb9i3-z5H0AY_ofKGZJ5THJ245G2MsrQs8xC1Em0sv1ktsw3Wfl5rjR2Dj5D55Q1SZgPScAij8On8NeBtdfN9OROqVSQro6tgII2_6q26/s320/Fish%20Hoek.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Fish Hoek Beach</center>
<br>
Just north of Simon's Town is Fish Hoek Beach, a full service beach with changing rooms, showers, lifeguards, and shark spotters. The town of Fish Hoek is famous as a retirement community. Early mornings are when the “golden oldies” come out. They call themselves that, so it must not be too derogatory. The beach is also a popular place for fishing, which makes sense given its name. I saw a few people standing on the rocks with poles, and there are apparently always nets near the shore. That might be one of the reasons Fish Hoek is not all that popular with surfers.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKX1CStKisoCb9akj8CPpOL18bCARl2s8EtTChvEGd5lFm5wRBEhphhT7C5_BSObvSZSYk99O4ZbnTcDqkKeqSZTNL0hupTGBTHcec4eZzuAuLdmLYE9gv2I0mrXmhgk2abD9qZwqjCTVlRRweJ2dh4XZAX-TBOIFJlVaTgxq7ZCoCUMRefs_43Gk/s1920/St%20James.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKX1CStKisoCb9akj8CPpOL18bCARl2s8EtTChvEGd5lFm5wRBEhphhT7C5_BSObvSZSYk99O4ZbnTcDqkKeqSZTNL0hupTGBTHcec4eZzuAuLdmLYE9gv2I0mrXmhgk2abD9qZwqjCTVlRRweJ2dh4XZAX-TBOIFJlVaTgxq7ZCoCUMRefs_43Gk/s320/St%20James.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>St James Beach</center>
<br>
Just north of Fish Hoek is St James Beach. It is too rocky to be useful as a beach, but people like to picnic on the small patches of sand. St James is famous for its colored changing rooms, for some reason. I suppose colored is not the right word in South Africa. It is famous for its colorful changing rooms. There is a Metrorail station at the beach, which is convenient, but the train tracks are right up against the sand. That makes the view better from the train, while it dampens the view from the beach. The only reason to go to St James Beach that I noticed were two separate tidal pools, which are great for children or anyone who wants to swim in the water without any risk of getting pulled into the bay. The southern pool is larger, but looks less natural.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPSQ6UuqK2DfBnGFo8wTpRI-u7tAEFhe7j76Qap9w_OBQhLaJmlDh5eAjlYNNO1nuskc88G3310lsOAwnLYns1WUTMWmF7m0W-qI_CJrtHQs23kVoUzTefRouKP54xSRVrksPJyqrigyIIL07aC9MzjAPZv1oM8WJQpRfNOEV1UIZGu-zrUL6j77u/s1280/Muizenberg_Ingmar%20Grewar.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPSQ6UuqK2DfBnGFo8wTpRI-u7tAEFhe7j76Qap9w_OBQhLaJmlDh5eAjlYNNO1nuskc88G3310lsOAwnLYns1WUTMWmF7m0W-qI_CJrtHQs23kVoUzTefRouKP54xSRVrksPJyqrigyIIL07aC9MzjAPZv1oM8WJQpRfNOEV1UIZGu-zrUL6j77u/s320/Muizenberg_Ingmar%20Grewar.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Muizenberg
<br>Photograph by Ingmar Grewar</center>
<br>
Just north of St James is Muizenberg. The beaches are separated by a rocky coast, but a road, train, and pedestrian walkway connect the two. Muizenberg is far larger than St James, is more of a traditional sandy beach, and is far more popular. It is supposed to be one of the premier surfing locations in Cape Town. I never saw any waves worth noticing, but maybe I did not go at the right time. Muizenberg has more multicolor changing rooms that get photographed more often than St James, in addition to lifeguards and shark spotters. As a city beach, there is more civilization just across the street. You might want to bring your own food at some of Cape Town's beaches. Muizenberg has more than enough shops, restaurants, grocery stores, farmers markets, flea markets, and hotels. There is even a tiny water park and miniature golf course. Muizenberg is a family beach with easy parking. It is the last place you want to go if you like solitude.
<br><br>
The Atlantic side, the west coast of the Cape Peninsula, is much colder and has more interesting beaches.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglO_Ygz6AVh6HHUAOPe4z6M2jcOnfnEfUGqVyQGH5AEYNNybeyQrRkiHav3R6l28qupPuDvydl9oNe91YmaOGuEPuWwjDMaPybTPoM5UmgjqZ1HtMx0mxZ4ou0ab1tAL7-bMssYbOhfYylbQLJuLIU2A0pYHke-16JRIWGHT7ueYN23JhIdfT7IV0X/s1920/bloubergstrand.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglO_Ygz6AVh6HHUAOPe4z6M2jcOnfnEfUGqVyQGH5AEYNNybeyQrRkiHav3R6l28qupPuDvydl9oNe91YmaOGuEPuWwjDMaPybTPoM5UmgjqZ1HtMx0mxZ4ou0ab1tAL7-bMssYbOhfYylbQLJuLIU2A0pYHke-16JRIWGHT7ueYN23JhIdfT7IV0X/s320/bloubergstrand.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Bloubergstrand</center>
<br>
North of the City Centre is Bloubergstrand, a long, windy beach that seems perfectly designed for kite surfers. It was too crowded and too close to civilization for my tastes, but everyone who visits Cape Town has to go to Bloubergstrand since it has the best postcard view of Table Mountain. If you have ever seen a picture of Table Mountain, odds are it was taken from Bloubergstrand.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTbVnW2_laANaq2lyro-o0HnV8Ae3NsVA7yRg1Z6iqtlZa7eTzi6PrNCJPbgGUMvfr3IKSv7VwVZj47PqmI8QXFEiY10Nu-PRNEvWNWild9Ig4IubtWaqrCG4Li2Y_qAZsB6Lgop0zJvHTxgrmcJMN3fSP3bic9RzpFA73ddvZGewL2VJ3LwPGJQZ/s2560/Clifton.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTbVnW2_laANaq2lyro-o0HnV8Ae3NsVA7yRg1Z6iqtlZa7eTzi6PrNCJPbgGUMvfr3IKSv7VwVZj47PqmI8QXFEiY10Nu-PRNEvWNWild9Ig4IubtWaqrCG4Li2Y_qAZsB6Lgop0zJvHTxgrmcJMN3fSP3bic9RzpFA73ddvZGewL2VJ3LwPGJQZ/s320/Clifton.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Clifton</center>
<br>
Just west of Lion's Head is Clifton, a small cove community where the rich people like to hang out. The small beach is divided into four beaches, for some reason. There are boulders separating each beach, but they are easy enough to walk around. Some of the gaps are large enough to drive a dune buggy through. Clifton beaches are popular, not only because they are geographically removed from the poor people, but because that cove keeps most of the harshest Atlantic wind away.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXCxdLzt8GYxxaDYaXU10myagFgfsNvbR1RyG44kDT6KMIQrakUOpx4MeESU0jcuNUN1__xoK_dugqbWAn7tlLILzcv2g_kwlEjEeFONCB69FkmKZ02_wGgq_nIjuunORb7QzwhLzrbyHnUo-cvkxNw2UwThp7vykyUvHHbYWKrRxhorHavE5f_GvW/s2560/Camps%20Bay.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXCxdLzt8GYxxaDYaXU10myagFgfsNvbR1RyG44kDT6KMIQrakUOpx4MeESU0jcuNUN1__xoK_dugqbWAn7tlLILzcv2g_kwlEjEeFONCB69FkmKZ02_wGgq_nIjuunORb7QzwhLzrbyHnUo-cvkxNw2UwThp7vykyUvHHbYWKrRxhorHavE5f_GvW/s320/Camps%20Bay.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Camps Bay</center>
<br>
Less than a kilometer south of Clifton are Glen Beach and Camps Bay. What looks like one white sandy beach are actually two beaches divided by boulders that are more of a permanent sand castle than border. The Camps Bay neighborhood presses up against both beaches, so privacy and seclusion are never an option. Like most of the popular beaches, there are tidal pools on either side and plenty of places to get food and drinks. What Glen Beach/Camps Bay has over everyone else are the seaside views of the Twelve Apostles.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WIjGV8Kc-ZUT9w08v3nlTtkUJBg8WCH5aOj3tWhLfwaDn735dzg0Uxeqh4h96tTNtO74ln_yDzdoisDkqZyO1NP-IQq1j58Sf3pr89dwpgQKjVP9jQHERZZucf1A6MR36Dqr8VCaZN6hwX-fV2F2TmGy3tRBFz7L7kBDCnFoGcRRyahm4FFeP4tJ/s1400/Llandudno.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="1400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WIjGV8Kc-ZUT9w08v3nlTtkUJBg8WCH5aOj3tWhLfwaDn735dzg0Uxeqh4h96tTNtO74ln_yDzdoisDkqZyO1NP-IQq1j58Sf3pr89dwpgQKjVP9jQHERZZucf1A6MR36Dqr8VCaZN6hwX-fV2F2TmGy3tRBFz7L7kBDCnFoGcRRyahm4FFeP4tJ/s320/Llandudno.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Llandudno Beach</center>
<br>
At the southern foot of the Twelve Apostles range is Llandudno Beach, a tiny patch of white sand next to a tiny residential neighborhood. There are no restaurants anywhere nearby and most of the parking is in front of people's houses. Like most of the Atlantic beaches, the water was ridiculously cold. Yet it was one of the most crowded beaches I went to in Cape Town. I'm not really sure why. There are better beaches, easier beaches to get to, more secluded beaches. For whatever reason, Llandudno is a favorite with the locals.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDMihHKoPYcgmI0kvgSyPBw4IwexMKYqHBklLhHaWnyCU0QRfI-_0Wq2JJqf0fVGUV53XToopmBOrN32xBPr9tvsO2jQ3U7WYEnfojFQLxfN7S8SsZXHapjYjZCP1R0mvqZKnF_jkeoWZzNBnoWE2ySkyqjkY6PIbGAg1o8FWhqLdr0w3z89qfG30/s1366/Hout%20Bay.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDMihHKoPYcgmI0kvgSyPBw4IwexMKYqHBklLhHaWnyCU0QRfI-_0Wq2JJqf0fVGUV53XToopmBOrN32xBPr9tvsO2jQ3U7WYEnfojFQLxfN7S8SsZXHapjYjZCP1R0mvqZKnF_jkeoWZzNBnoWE2ySkyqjkY6PIbGAg1o8FWhqLdr0w3z89qfG30/s320/Hout%20Bay.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Hout Bay Beach</center>
<br>
Just down the M6 from Llandudno, which is mostly a drive in a valley between mountain peaks, is Hout Bay Beach. Hout Bay is one of the larger neighborhoods on the southern peninsula, with a fishing marina about the same size as the beach. The marina brings a lot of birds that you never see at other beaches and a seal or two. Since the beach sits deep inside the bay, which has mountains on either side, it is not nearly as windy as some of the Atlantic beaches. The water is entirely too cold, but at least you can stay warm on the sand.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOH9YrExvkZA9e2Li1pgPmCb_th-cQ04mQhq1KaU-E-6hf76Wsvl6a7d4eqGrQyLeCYeXPti4Bvt2reDnNcMSAfu_ejadUOyYL5d69zC1T3XQcyOO9ECrfzYq4ra_EeBEHeMafzse9EYbLas_AVtnzqwPxqtFWPl5_EnXj00g17MGrBkRrClpU9_rl/s2217/Chapman%27s%20Peak%20Drive.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1157" data-original-width="2217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOH9YrExvkZA9e2Li1pgPmCb_th-cQ04mQhq1KaU-E-6hf76Wsvl6a7d4eqGrQyLeCYeXPti4Bvt2reDnNcMSAfu_ejadUOyYL5d69zC1T3XQcyOO9ECrfzYq4ra_EeBEHeMafzse9EYbLas_AVtnzqwPxqtFWPl5_EnXj00g17MGrBkRrClpU9_rl/s320/Chapman%27s%20Peak%20Drive.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Chapman's Peak Drive</center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdIgu219DMvRgkmI80RF0FFZcSd-P50EnmUh2vtKt_s-DvVjDnLHcQpI7Lwl8cP_m9qFcZyD857gSTOH1H40ZBXPZ4I5B6NflnI2T-ReeW0njJFPC9bDVurd9fUwbNYEb2mOhCXx9otDWPhOgC6k9VtpqWTcKUPcIIJ8gI0YJz4suHYvGbgXrH66M/s1600/Long%20Beach.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdIgu219DMvRgkmI80RF0FFZcSd-P50EnmUh2vtKt_s-DvVjDnLHcQpI7Lwl8cP_m9qFcZyD857gSTOH1H40ZBXPZ4I5B6NflnI2T-ReeW0njJFPC9bDVurd9fUwbNYEb2mOhCXx9otDWPhOgC6k9VtpqWTcKUPcIIJ8gI0YJz4suHYvGbgXrH66M/s320/Long%20Beach.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Long Beach</center>
<br>
Chapman's Peak Drive, which is easily the most scenic car route in all of Cape Town, goes from Llandudno to Kommetjie. Long Beach is billed as the longest beach in Cape Town, which makes sense. Except there are longer stretches of uninterrupted sand at Muizenberg and Blouberg. Those beaches have different names at arbitrary spots, even though you have no idea when you cross from one beach to another. I suppose, from a certain point of view, Long Beach is the longest. There is also a Long Beach at Simon's Town, though it is one tenth the size, if that, and kind of an ugly beach. Kommetjie's Long Beach certainly felt like the largest beach in Cape Town. Probably because it was entirely deserted when we went. I never understood why some beaches were more popular than others when the most popular beaches were often my least favorite. I'm sure timing and location had a lot to do with it.
<br><br>
More than for its size, Long Beach became one of my favorite beaches because we rode horses. With the stables at the north end of the beach, we were able to ride the entire length of the beach, past the skeleton of a wrecked ship, over the river, and through the dunes. It is not entirely impossible to ride a horse in Taiwan, but only one of my colleagues and I had ever seen a horse in person. Fortunately, the Long Beach horses were exceptionally calm and unfazed by foreigners and our unusual language. To horses, all humans speak gibberish.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFxLY4K6xB-J2sUcOQ-4mD5k0zdD3H5Fbs0VNiLUW1ichl_uSqTtJmrJZJNwnwsyez2DypOAb19qlnXKsP-uaEw_uh7blCfFy1OuW_iGlVYtDnN3PhVYM9-9rPBRVKJpCJkf0Lvxx3rmhtP5MMWlBdN2oWpTgkDt8TWmE2hbIjgBLPHdqW3GEb-e1/s1200/Sandy%20Bay.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFxLY4K6xB-J2sUcOQ-4mD5k0zdD3H5Fbs0VNiLUW1ichl_uSqTtJmrJZJNwnwsyez2DypOAb19qlnXKsP-uaEw_uh7blCfFy1OuW_iGlVYtDnN3PhVYM9-9rPBRVKJpCJkf0Lvxx3rmhtP5MMWlBdN2oWpTgkDt8TWmE2hbIjgBLPHdqW3GEb-e1/s320/Sandy%20Bay.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Sandy Bay</center>
<br>
My favorite beach was Sandy Bay, for a few reasons. It had the same white sand and freezing cold water as most of the other Atlantic beaches, but it was more isolated and harder to get to. There was no neighborhood pressed against the beach. That meant no lifeguards, no shark spotters, no restaurants, no arcades, no boardwalk, and no crowds. Llandudno was over a mountain ridge and Hout Bay was a valley away. I can understand why parents like to take their children to busy beaches with ample parking and easy snacks. I prefer as much nature as possible when I go to the beach. The less I see of anything made by man, the better. Sandy Bay also happens to be Cape Town's only nude beach.
<br><br>
Getting my Taiwanese friends to go to the beach was always a chore. They are not beach people. Taiwan is an island in the Pacific Ocean, yet most of its natural beaches are ignored. Kenting is a popular resort town. Most people go for the night markets and food. Whenever I have seen anyone on the beach, they have been fully clothed and hiding under umbrellas. Swimming and feeling the fresh air on your skin are not popular activities in Taiwan.
<br><br>
I went to most of Cape Town's beaches with a handful of Taiwanese. Only two of them ever wore a bathing suit and only one went into the water. The Atlantic side was too cold even for me, but getting them into the warmer False Bay water was difficult. In Taiwan, beaches are to be viewed and photographed. I thought the Cape Town beaches were too inviting to waste.
<br><br>
I took one friend to Sandy Bay. I knew it was a nude beach long before we went and I knew I was going to use it as such. That meant bringing the only Taiwanese who would have even possibly considered going nude. Once there, it was up to her what she was going to do. I was going to enjoy the beach as much as possible, weather permitting. Fortunately, the weather could not have been better. The water could have been warmer, but that was never an option. At least the sky cooperated.
<br><br>
She chose to keep her bathing suit on. There were a few other people at the beach, all bare ass naked. She felt it was unsafe with other people around. The one Chinese woman on the beach was the only person wearing any clothes. She said that if we had been alone, she might have gone nude. I doubt it. She probably would have said it was unsafe without any other people around.
<br><br>
Where I live, people stare at me all the time. I am hardly the only foreigner in Taiwan, but I am most definitely a foreigner. Every once in a while, a child will even point to me and call out, “外國人”. I have never seen a parent tell them not to do that. They are correct, after all. I am a foreigner. In Cape Town, no one stared at me, as far as I know. I was not obviously a foreigner, until I spoke. Even then, foreigners are not such a rare occurrence. There are many white people in Cape Town. Some would say there are too many white people in Cape Town. No one ever stared at my Taiwanese friends, either. The Chinese community in South Africa is much smaller than the white community. Unlike Taiwan, no one is all that impressed by someone who looks different. The exception was on Sandy Bay. My Taiwanese friend got a few glimpses here and there. Not because she was a foreigner, but because she wore clothes. I thought that was interesting. She stood out the most when she was around people who would definitely stand out in any other setting.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-9061537398250515542023-01-10T07:53:00.003+08:002023-01-30T15:14:48.436+08:00African Tour:Cape Town part 4<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqHmvm9Jo7GE26ZdGDwPoLT0Q-4AiTG4KRd522JOaMZI8c2GgG7-ca-Kj-OkLs2irNi5up_UyPPuRz_Hw8Ileqio5ll4PxMAOm_V6t4eCxh4dUSeVMrkFJmWuxFZ0b6GF7ixNikkK4bMaz1wQ07Nh2u5w8xZEUxkK--hNGnhLozIq7IpOgU-NHVEr/s1444/paragliding.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqHmvm9Jo7GE26ZdGDwPoLT0Q-4AiTG4KRd522JOaMZI8c2GgG7-ca-Kj-OkLs2irNi5up_UyPPuRz_Hw8Ileqio5ll4PxMAOm_V6t4eCxh4dUSeVMrkFJmWuxFZ0b6GF7ixNikkK4bMaz1wQ07Nh2u5w8xZEUxkK--hNGnhLozIq7IpOgU-NHVEr/s320/paragliding.jpg"/></a></div>
<br>
A few of us went paragliding one fine sunny day. On Signal Hill, we signed some papers. As an American, this made perfect sense to me. The people we were putting our lives into the hands of needed to protect themselves. My Taiwanese friends found it suspicious. They are not from a litigious culture. If you die while doing something risky, that is an unlucky day, not a lawsuit.
<br><br>
Paperwork out of the way, we all strapped into separate contraptions. Since this was tandem paragliding, each of us went with a “pilot”. The passenger sat on a little cushion while the pilot lay back on a much bigger cushion. Had we plummeted to our deaths, I doubt that padding on our butts would have made much difference. Looking up at the wing, I never worried about it. The wing was nothing like a flimsy World War II parachute. It was made of some science fiction material in a complicated structural design. When the pilot explained how air flows into the wing through tiny holes, I knew someone put far more thought into it than I ever would have. I saw a video once of someone paragliding and the straps to their wing broke. The wing kept flying, but obviously they did not. Our harness was attached to the wing by a dozen different lines on each side. That wing was not going anywhere without us.
<br><br>
We left the earth from a large tarp rather than the grass. I still have no idea why. Running off the edge of Signal Hill felt a little counterintuitive at the time, but since everything was designed properly and the pilot knew what he was doing, we started going up before gravity even had a chance to bring us down. Within seconds, we were floating above Sea Point, a beach community separated from the city centre by Signal Hill. We headed straight for the Atlantic, which might sound like a bad idea, but on the highly unlikely chance that you crash, it is better to crash in the water than into someone's house or on a busy street. More importantly, once over the water, the pilot can turn around and face toward Signal Hill, Lion's Head, Table Mountain, and the Twelve Apostles. Superman could not get a better view.
<br><br>
While over the water, the pilot asked me how adventurous I was. There is no way that cannot be a loaded question, so I told him to do whatever he was planning. Before I knew it, we were upside down. I thought he was making a sharp turn, which he did, but then the turn kept going and we did a quick loop. Before we left Signal Hill, each pilot asked each passenger if they were afraid of heights. Our reactions told them how gentle they had to be with us in the air. None of my Taiwanese friends ever went upside down.
<br><br>
Landing required more than a few turns to slow us down. I thought we were going to the beach, but we landed in a flat park on the Sea Point Promenade. Touchdown was surprisingly gentle. Our paragliding trip was outstanding, but that company only launched from Signal Hill and only flew over Sea Point. At least for tandem rides. If you know how to do it yourself, the options in Cape Town are practically unlimited. If you want to hire someone to fly you around, you go where they go.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxhZ1jeoEkAV08uc42lr7nWCGggnyeX6uV65CCQexIUYxWOR1O-Ad0e_kgSfSpBVZOXgh6EUZcyf5VmJNaFVs1st-x3zQgA-xhyiyCeHBAQQ9-bIlbiPhE767Qk-mZI1t1RRnHNxdfZBYlHpW4r2SiRc74WlOKX6DTpjR6gQfwl2X5GlixwaYF3OR/s1096/West%20Coast%20National%20Park_peter%20chadwick.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="729" data-original-width="1096" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxhZ1jeoEkAV08uc42lr7nWCGggnyeX6uV65CCQexIUYxWOR1O-Ad0e_kgSfSpBVZOXgh6EUZcyf5VmJNaFVs1st-x3zQgA-xhyiyCeHBAQQ9-bIlbiPhE767Qk-mZI1t1RRnHNxdfZBYlHpW4r2SiRc74WlOKX6DTpjR6gQfwl2X5GlixwaYF3OR/s320/West%20Coast%20National%20Park_peter%20chadwick.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>West Coast National Park Marine Protected Area
<br>Photograph by Peter Chadwick</center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAuSXeBOIWu-SRPVzgnUIjad05fgvv3cS9lUhQyRViRu9pUvQ1VNMbjb_rTApmZm0zIvnskJ6ASi9cgQ_2DUM78Oj4jRanWh1VMbviOBm20_Ik60DzcOuenD4xNtnJ33Vkn4I_vpPmsSauGNfpY6mZopXP21pqpUZ67kN7Zh3S6Z-YVWGcwVmS9fj/s1199/Langebaan.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="1199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAuSXeBOIWu-SRPVzgnUIjad05fgvv3cS9lUhQyRViRu9pUvQ1VNMbjb_rTApmZm0zIvnskJ6ASi9cgQ_2DUM78Oj4jRanWh1VMbviOBm20_Ik60DzcOuenD4xNtnJ33Vkn4I_vpPmsSauGNfpY6mZopXP21pqpUZ67kN7Zh3S6Z-YVWGcwVmS9fj/s320/Langebaan.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Langebaan Lagoon</center>
<br>
On a completely different day, we stayed much closer to sea level. Just up the coast from Cape Town is the West Coast National Park Marine Protected Area. The park is a birdwatcher's paradise, but we went for the water. Since Langebaan Lagoon does not allow any commercial vehicles, everyone goes there to swim and sail. We went to kayak. The calm lagoon did not provide any challenges, but Kraal Bay and the white sandy beaches were well worth the trip.
<br><br>
The national park ends at the northern tip of the lagoon. There are a few houses and B&Bs before you reach the city of Langebaan. Nature gets replaced by expensive houses, restaurants, and a yacht club long before you reach Langebaan Beach. On the southern end of the lagoon, the only thing you are going to see between water and sky are beaches, rocky coasts, and a lot of green. And boats on the water. We never saw any jet skis or loud boats. The lagoon looks like a great place to ride a jet ski. It is also a bird sanctuary, so maybe noisy boats are not allowed. Every boat we saw that day was a catamaran. There were a few houseboats in Kraal Bay, but not enough to spoil the view. They were nothing like the houseboats of Amsterdam. I never looked into it, but my impression was that they were vacation rentals. Assuming you have daily access to a boat, that would not be a bad place to vacation.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho23_HXCAvR_Gzpo2BUEridWHAvXFbG8IAlpQzeV_wI7TX-fU0481JkzfjTmrW8bhtR-imo-BP7yswj7A9nWYUtzH2sqKO5BQT8woqebbLLXPeIvpXhQp-PwuclJEvT4mkiai3klskz8XIoDJ8oQnRGHr3iALciXYxFDj0e7GeVfWw06qaJr7nKDzj/s2560/Venus%20Pool.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho23_HXCAvR_Gzpo2BUEridWHAvXFbG8IAlpQzeV_wI7TX-fU0481JkzfjTmrW8bhtR-imo-BP7yswj7A9nWYUtzH2sqKO5BQT8woqebbLLXPeIvpXhQp-PwuclJEvT4mkiai3klskz8XIoDJ8oQnRGHr3iALciXYxFDj0e7GeVfWw06qaJr7nKDzj/s320/Venus%20Pool.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Venus Pool</center>
<br>
A different kayak ride on a different day took us down the Cape Peninsula. Or at least down part of it. Rounding the cape in a kayak would be unnecessarily dangerous. Thousands of ships designed to sail around the world are buried at the Cape of Good Hope. Kayaks are not designed to cross oceans.
<br><br>
We were pretty much on our own at Langebaan Lagoon. They gave us the kayaks and let us run wild. The lagoon kept us from wandering too far away. The Cape Peninsula covers a much larger area and is surrounded by much deeper water. This one was a guided tour by necessity. We stayed on the False Bay side for a reason. While you can kayak on the Atlantic coast, it is more dangerous. You only have to go a few kilometers out to reach deep water. False Bay slopes down gradually. You would have to paddle for at least 40 kilometers out of the bay before the ocean floor plummets.
<br><br>
From Windmill Beach in Simon's Town, we went north for a few minutes for the sole purpose of kayaking with penguins. On Foxy Beach, you can look at penguins from a separate walkway. On Boulders Beach, you can build sand castles with penguins on the rare occasion they make their way over the boulders. Out in the water between the two, you can try to swim with penguins, but they are far more cautious than they are on land. That makes sense when their predators live in the water. They are probably unaware of how dangerous humans on land can be.
<br><br>
For whatever reason, penguins are not at all afraid of kayaks. They seem to know that a kayak is not a seal or shark. Like dolphins to boats, they wanted to swim along with us. As soon as we stopped, they lost interest and swam away. They were attracted to the movement of the kayaks, not the annoying people inside. Kayaking alongside a swimming penguin was easy. Petting a swimming penguin was impossible.
<br><br>
Down the east coast of the Cape Peninsula is the Venus Pool, one of several natural tide pools in Table Mountain National Park. Venus Pool is larger than a backyard swimming pool, though not as deep. If not for all the rocks, it would be an excellent place to teach a child how to swim. Had we brought snorkels, it would have been a great place to go snorkeling. You get plenty of sea life in calm water protected from the rest of the bay. My friends were surprised to see so many mussels and starfish in their natural habitat. Back home, you would only see them for sale as food.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifxZ_Q2YZ8YGWMpnvB5O6GeinygSsdPisQTc-5FFUI1XhNiwCmr8xiCb4-UJV6ZmAbaFz5zWaPj9_K1WuXjpAitjHVh5ctSkCR7a4dRkJIEWtH6VXVijZYGrWb1n7fv6HW0SFA2mDrS8vENnV791nVLm4COTtU1NUZWnG1S_1vqqQwGh1jvxflKT8/s1024/VenusPool2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifxZ_Q2YZ8YGWMpnvB5O6GeinygSsdPisQTc-5FFUI1XhNiwCmr8xiCb4-UJV6ZmAbaFz5zWaPj9_K1WuXjpAitjHVh5ctSkCR7a4dRkJIEWtH6VXVijZYGrWb1n7fv6HW0SFA2mDrS8vENnV791nVLm4COTtU1NUZWnG1S_1vqqQwGh1jvxflKT8/s320/VenusPool2.jpg"/></a></div>
<br>
Part of the tide pool is bordered by flat rocks that happen to be a great place to sit and take a break. They look like they were built by humans on purpose, but nature constructed them without our convenience in mind. Everything about the pool begged us to stay all day, but we were on a guided kayak tour. We had to hit the open water.
<br><br>
Paddling back to Simon's Town, we spotted several otters. Rather than huddle together in a group, they were spread out over a two kilometer stretch of water. Most of them were swimming with far more grace and skill than any of us were working our kayaks. Some stood on the rocks along the shore and watched us. They were all smart enough to stay away. We knew from their body language alone that we would not have any otters swimming alongside us that day. Petting a penguin is rare, but not impossible. I think the only way to pet an otter would be if it was sick or captive. When dry, their fur looked soft and a little luxurious, not that any were ever going to let us near them. When wet, they looked like tiny seals. Their fur almost resembled thick skin. Their webbed feet were also more obvious. That webbing was not at all noticeable on land.
<br><br>
While kayaking along the cape and in the lagoon, I knew I would probably never do any of this ever again. I could very well find myself in a kayak someday, but most likely in a different location. If I lived in Cape Town, I could go outdoors every day and explore every inch of the city. We were there for such a short amount of time, I never dug below the surface.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-83617985730170038872023-01-03T08:36:00.004+08:002023-01-30T15:11:14.173+08:00African Tour:Cape Town part 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy1CkWWGCktirnPnya0jdhSqtAsnbrZ4vU09_6jcgnpuXlXYL4mw_dUdwhsc91gx3Dlz-84o_Ys9eyE4xLth0zyG5OkMA-Vb4_HSNWScKwMz6I_gV9tbl3iFhLLm8xiFVgprcjfizvEieErr43URD6EtRx7uS_YmeZbgWA-b_uIDODtib_e76z7Gw/s1280/sundowner.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy1CkWWGCktirnPnya0jdhSqtAsnbrZ4vU09_6jcgnpuXlXYL4mw_dUdwhsc91gx3Dlz-84o_Ys9eyE4xLth0zyG5OkMA-Vb4_HSNWScKwMz6I_gV9tbl3iFhLLm8xiFVgprcjfizvEieErr43URD6EtRx7uS_YmeZbgWA-b_uIDODtib_e76z7Gw/s320/sundowner.jpeg"/></a></div>
<br>
We all took a sundowner cruise one evening. A sundowner is not some South African slang to describe the sunset, though it does take place at sunset. Instead, it is a social ritual where people drink alcohol and maybe have some light snacks while watching the sun go down. I heard the word in Durban, though rarely. Since Durban is on the east coast, sunsets are not nearly as popular as they are in Cape Town, which has countless scenic spots to watch the sun disappear behind the ocean or mountains. On this night, we were on the deck of a boat in Table Bay.
<br><br>
The sunset cruise was pretty short, but we had champagne, cheese, and the sunset. As a bonus, a few people got seasick. The water was calm. The boat barely moved at all while we were anchored in the bay, and every single one of us lives on an island. Even so, some of my colleagues had a hard time adjusting to the lack of solid ground. It was definitely not too much champagne. We were only given one glass each.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP41gM_vj1t8nf_PcBUjvWJrlvd90-HUQPVQ4MG_QPXF6jQezTPgjBxyS0vJPMKjRn4mhwpyLrxJmVeUitS6uS47lVq1CphI4_jm8Y2_4q5xnNga1IqnOOO5AIUvAIStjryK5JMVOT5J4V3oacEL5D-OrzJbtMldA0kflNtaqqzMS_orOGwBXbQCuz/s1920/whale.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP41gM_vj1t8nf_PcBUjvWJrlvd90-HUQPVQ4MG_QPXF6jQezTPgjBxyS0vJPMKjRn4mhwpyLrxJmVeUitS6uS47lVq1CphI4_jm8Y2_4q5xnNga1IqnOOO5AIUvAIStjryK5JMVOT5J4V3oacEL5D-OrzJbtMldA0kflNtaqqzMS_orOGwBXbQCuz/s320/whale.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>We saw none of these.</center>
<br>
On a different day, a few of us were on a different boat in a different bay. The sunset cruises mostly left from the V&A Waterfront because that is at Table Bay Harbour, where most of Cape Town's boat traffic parks. If you want to watch whales, you go to False Bay. Even though the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet at Cape Agulhas, the warm Indian currents mix with the colder Atlantic in False Bay. That makes it an ideal breeding ground for all sorts of sea creatures. Whales go to False Bay to breed and eat tiny fish. Dolphins go to False Bay to frolic and catch fish. Seals just live there and lie out on rocks. Great white sharks go to False Bay to eat everybody.
<br><br>
Normally, our house in Simon's Town was far from whatever we wanted to do. Table Bay Harbour was more than an hour away without traffic. Sea Point and Table Mountain were barely closer, though a more scenic drive. On this day it was terribly convenient. We boarded a tiny boat at the Simon's Town Pier less than two kilometers from the house. We mostly sailed around the Cape Peninsula in the Table Mountain National Park Marine Protected Area. There was a marine biologist on the boat who told us far more about all the animals we wanted to see than we could ever remember. She made it clear that winter was the best time to see southern right whales, but that a few liked to linger around at the beginning of spring. Humpback whales mostly came out during the summer, but some showed up early. She told us that we might be able to see both if we were lucky. We were not.
<br><br>
Humpback whales are slightly smaller than southern right whales, but more people want to see the humpbacks because they are more flamboyant. Both like to poke out of the water from time to time, but humpbacks jump out with a flourish and crash onto their backs. Southern right whales mostly just stick their tails out. We only saw some Bryde's whales, which are much smaller. They breach like humpbacks, but since they weigh far less, their crashing down is far less dramatic. After seeing one up close, I had my doubts if that was the type of whale I saw from the house balcony. I assume it was an early humpback since I saw so much of it so far away.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWszM7Hi26MGJzf_iegDwe1j0txx8SftvFowiYRmSaEH0H9lYpB9Yywtuo9RPBgLrKtB2OlQvFz3fD1XA9K9w8YenfazfcgjlqvxgvFEraN6lHIPV4MtWPqSGxX1XTadK53ApHYIr7PfoWi7D29_vi-_OtIUcqJnur03SCB3d7a-s6OogOE9UIDawH/s1920/dolphin.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1281" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWszM7Hi26MGJzf_iegDwe1j0txx8SftvFowiYRmSaEH0H9lYpB9Yywtuo9RPBgLrKtB2OlQvFz3fD1XA9K9w8YenfazfcgjlqvxgvFEraN6lHIPV4MtWPqSGxX1XTadK53ApHYIr7PfoWi7D29_vi-_OtIUcqJnur03SCB3d7a-s6OogOE9UIDawH/s320/dolphin.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>We saw a few of these.</center>
<br>
The dolphins were more abundant and not nearly as shy as the whales. According to the marine biologist, we saw Heaviside's dolphins and dusky dolphins. I could not tell the difference to save my life. Apparently, the dusky dolphins were the more acrobatic cousins. They did all kinds of circus tricks for us without any humans blowing a whistle or offering fish. Obviously, they did it for themselves and did not care about our amusement, but they were curious about our boat.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghOPOS0X3iowNmaQvDtBPxRUpR7pYrkg-OVelN2yA3oTIyghJEeq-2NJyg-KAufeQnnfHONB8VpdhnBdjyLMVDduBt9Equpx9jxhtmS5UlATMg2Y40ttoV_IZ-HNvbPoWX5i-bCBAQSpvniFWg1XsRP-jqqNsrtwDr01tIrw9o6GeQ3XKUmfj-YlU6/s1920/seal.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghOPOS0X3iowNmaQvDtBPxRUpR7pYrkg-OVelN2yA3oTIyghJEeq-2NJyg-KAufeQnnfHONB8VpdhnBdjyLMVDduBt9Equpx9jxhtmS5UlATMg2Y40ttoV_IZ-HNvbPoWX5i-bCBAQSpvniFWg1XsRP-jqqNsrtwDr01tIrw9o6GeQ3XKUmfj-YlU6/s320/seal.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>And a lot of these.</center>
<br>
Outside of the Table Mountain National Park Marine Protected Area, we went to Seal Island. In the water, most of the animals wisely stayed away from us. On Seal Island, we saw thousands of brown fur seals just lying out on the rocks as if a boat full of humans was not something they should fear. Their biggest predator is the great white shark, who likes to fly out of the water at 40 km/h while grabbing seals from below. Fortunately for the seals, we did not see any sharks that day.
<br><br>
On the way to and from the Simon's Town Pier, we passed the penguin colony at Foxy Beach and saw absolutely no penguins either time. Though thousands of penguins live at the beach year round, none were out and about at the time. The marine biologist told us they were probably out fishing. That was the sort of thing that disappointed most people on the whale watching tour, but my friends and I never worried about it. Our house was a ten minute walk to the beach. The first time we went by land, we saw dozens of penguins. The second time, we saw hundreds. From the boat, we would have seen penguins at a distance. On the beach, they were up close and personal.
<br><br>
There was a time when you could swim with the penguins. Today, people are prohibited on Foxy Beach, which is where most of the penguins nest and waddle. Instead, there is a raised walkway to let visitors walk around the beach without actually touching the sand. The penguins are free to walk around without interference. People can go to Boulders Beach, which is separated from Foxy Beach by large boulders. Every once in a while, a penguin or two will climb or swim from one beach to the other, so it is physically possible to chill on the beach with penguins, but the vast majority of them stay on the protected Foxy side.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCn-zIshdxcQ8g7V2YNWx2pX_NwKASGdmf7auDOV3aspZdlrfYgL5Uccgm3g7oUFtP0KhV_91FQI88oL9V0Gw72LXEXcAR0cun-NaLfPOr9qd_xvh1GFkQIDilXeCgYIbg9eZpgUQAwrtg_OJqWu7KvbFpjH5kBTTDDJkWpwJA062uTgwJ_QhLAL7/s1920/boulders.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1314" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCn-zIshdxcQ8g7V2YNWx2pX_NwKASGdmf7auDOV3aspZdlrfYgL5Uccgm3g7oUFtP0KhV_91FQI88oL9V0Gw72LXEXcAR0cun-NaLfPOr9qd_xvh1GFkQIDilXeCgYIbg9eZpgUQAwrtg_OJqWu7KvbFpjH5kBTTDDJkWpwJA062uTgwJ_QhLAL7/s320/boulders.jpg"/></a></div>
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-34659028096476392022-12-23T14:36:00.019+08:002023-03-01T16:28:30.763+08:00African Tour: Cape Town part 2As with Johannesburg and Durban, there were plenty of guided tours scheduled in Cape Town. When you take an entire company to a strange new world across the planet to work for a couple of months, it is always a good idea to provide some diversions in between rehearsals. I understood why we had so many guided tours. I simply preferred to wander around on my own or with a few friends. I skipped most of the guided tours in Cape Town, but a few sounded interesting, and one or two are pretty much required of all visitors.
<br><br>
<u>Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseKH_VdcLf1LKRNjtEebj_FbJOiJycEMo6P486oXvybTg_gYYB18JXj0c-38P3-hDGrhufHzsaekcR2DaZv83E8ObvnRrBZFxd0WYQD1yNdaWTjXNA8Ux3IsPqEDGWV7SEvspwxIdtmJhzouwIOm-4cAQ58cymDNGDpOgL63KrBG7iouEfJoEO2Sr/s1920/Kirstenbosch%20National%20Botanical%20Garden1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseKH_VdcLf1LKRNjtEebj_FbJOiJycEMo6P486oXvybTg_gYYB18JXj0c-38P3-hDGrhufHzsaekcR2DaZv83E8ObvnRrBZFxd0WYQD1yNdaWTjXNA8Ux3IsPqEDGWV7SEvspwxIdtmJhzouwIOm-4cAQ58cymDNGDpOgL63KrBG7iouEfJoEO2Sr/s320/Kirstenbosch%20National%20Botanical%20Garden1.jpg"/></a></div>
By far the best botanic garden in all of Africa. Or at least of the three I saw in Cape Town, Durban, and Johannesburg. Since it was spring, everything was in full bloom. Since I know pretty much nothing about horticulture, all I saw were a bunch of pretty flowers. They also had an exhibit on the geology of the area and how the Cape Peninsula was formed. It was all rocks to me. I thought the flowers looked nicer.
<br><br>
As with the Durban Botanic Gardens, there were birds all over the place. Unlike failing to identify flowers, I could tell the difference between the geese and owls. Just before sunset, something called an African dusky flycatcher goes to town on any insects flying around their territory. If they eat mosquitoes, we should import these guys to Taiwan. Cape Town is probably a better place to live if you are a bird. The city is surrounded by nature, and if you get hungry, there are plenty of people eating in trendy outdoor cafés. Kirstenbosch is proud to be a haven for butterflies, though the Durban Botanic Gardens had far more.
<br><br>
Something we saw in Kirstenbosch that I do not remember ever seeing in Durban were tiny tortoises. These were not the jumbo 100-year-old tortoises that really hate it when you put your children on them for your Facebook pictures. They were cat sized grass assassins. People must find them cute and/or delicious because there were also signs reminding everyone that taking a tortoise home is highly illegal.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBoadTgxbDmKaHNordqfh_ZaUxUpHA1jWJO0NhPNjOXP-EJpfr7Bs8rCwnKjy1a7yd1yfgUZKAmuXLFf1hlv75DoFpsAiRkL-7kTZG_WO5m3irRyeRl_P8KvdHwAp5dJZf1Q9D5UQtxbzvHkrxzu6JdSroHWKOk7psObm-t_XRpN-yfcsR2ASamgy/s1920/Kirstenbosch%20National%20Botanical%20Garden2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBoadTgxbDmKaHNordqfh_ZaUxUpHA1jWJO0NhPNjOXP-EJpfr7Bs8rCwnKjy1a7yd1yfgUZKAmuXLFf1hlv75DoFpsAiRkL-7kTZG_WO5m3irRyeRl_P8KvdHwAp5dJZf1Q9D5UQtxbzvHkrxzu6JdSroHWKOk7psObm-t_XRpN-yfcsR2ASamgy/s320/Kirstenbosch%20National%20Botanical%20Garden2.jpg"/></a></div><center>Canopy Walkway</center>
<br>
Something Kirstenbosch had that I have never seen at any other botanic garden was the tree canopy walkway through a 130 meter stretch of the arboretum. What made it unique was that the walkway got as high as 12 meters in some places. Rather than walk along the trees at ground level, we walked through the trees at monkey level, sometimes standing above a few tree tops. The idea was to give us a unique point of view. It clearly worked. I have walked around a million trees in my life. This was the first time I walked in the trees.
<br><br>
One of the most obvious differences between the Durban Botanic Gardens and Kirstenbosch are the locations. The Durban gardens are downtown, surrounded by city. Kirstenbosch is in Table Mountain National Park, near the bottom of the mountain. Being inside a national park makes for a far more natural environment. Since Kirstenbosch is inside the borders of a national park, you can hike from the gardens into the mountains all day. More than a few of the most popular trails up Table Mountain start at the botanical garden.
<br><br>
<u>Castle of Good Hope</u><br>
The Castle of Good Hope is a 17th century Dutch fort about as downtown as you can get. It is right next to Cape Town City Hall. The history of the fort is interesting even if the building is not much to look at. I could have missed this one and it would not have detracted from my time in Cape Town in any way whatsoever, though I certainly do not regret going.
<br><br>
<u>District Six Museum</u><br>
Next to the Castle of Good Hope is the District Six Museum, an old church turned museum. It honors the history of District Six, a multiracial community of artists who were evicted by the government after someone realized the potential for profit so close to the bay and decided it should be a white neighborhood. More than 20,000 residents were forced out of their homes and taken to various townships. Every building that was not a church was bulldozed. Thanks to grassroots protests, the area was never developed. After apartheid died, District Six started to build up again, with a few of the evicted residents returning.
<br><br>
<u>Iziko South African National Gallery / South African Jewish Museum / Cape Town Holocaust and Genocide Centre</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUiRAgqgUim5RpzfxmWyfKZ6NaXyxIYTMTVKNR_QeTka0TedSHJDL7wVuNgQe521C3gI2h0Ptko8UY9-RzHGL2wTYTjgYP1uzazzLZfsjehcPxc1fqe2brzCvAq3hWVgnwZKPLiicoSlHWPhwMUFpdumZEQ0X7Iydgiq591caLBPDunzIgLn4gLLe/s1024/Iziko%20South%20African%20National%20Gallery.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUUiRAgqgUim5RpzfxmWyfKZ6NaXyxIYTMTVKNR_QeTka0TedSHJDL7wVuNgQe521C3gI2h0Ptko8UY9-RzHGL2wTYTjgYP1uzazzLZfsjehcPxc1fqe2brzCvAq3hWVgnwZKPLiicoSlHWPhwMUFpdumZEQ0X7Iydgiq591caLBPDunzIgLn4gLLe/s320/Iziko%20South%20African%20National%20Gallery.jpg"/></a></div><center>Iziko South African National Gallery</center>
<br>
The Iziko South African National Gallery, next to the District Six Museum, is a small fine arts museum. I did not recognize the name of a single artist in the collection, even though it had 17th century Dutch and 19th century British art. The Dutch Golden Age has some of my favorite artists, especially Rembrandt. None of them were at the South African National Gallery. Most of the museum is modern art by contemporary South African artists. It is right next to the South African Jewish Museum, which I went to on my own later. Next door is the Cape Town Holocaust and Genocide Centre, an odd mashup of the holocaust and apartheid. The worst part about combining the two is that right after the holocaust when everyone said we should never forget and never let anything like that happen again, the first apartheid laws were passed. While it was nice to see a European genocide from an African point of view, there was no way the Cape Town Holocaust and Genocide Centre was ever going to compete with Yad Vashem in Jerusalem. I suppose we are not supposed to rate holocaust museums against each other, but Yad Vashem is a truly world class memorial and museum. It is easily one of the best museums I have ever seen anywhere in the world.
<br><br>
<u>Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCdemwicRqkfIGqzEPFgOFu2ocold-RnnibU3bQq-OOLu_1V-QowDDjwTyuy7q40XhTe4QwLY2sVLyQkoHqvHIdo8m9p9HVMmNf-cNHU_SP8BDTo256sYdLT17B66SMtMeXAq1oIDcIb4e697WcnbJ3oPLv77fwXJeMVbE-LL2agG-2JRUJUucZJr/s1920/Zeitz%20Museum%20of%20Contemporary%20Art%20Africa_Iwan%20Baan.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCdemwicRqkfIGqzEPFgOFu2ocold-RnnibU3bQq-OOLu_1V-QowDDjwTyuy7q40XhTe4QwLY2sVLyQkoHqvHIdo8m9p9HVMmNf-cNHU_SP8BDTo256sYdLT17B66SMtMeXAq1oIDcIb4e697WcnbJ3oPLv77fwXJeMVbE-LL2agG-2JRUJUucZJr/s320/Zeitz%20Museum%20of%20Contemporary%20Art%20Africa_Iwan%20Baan.jpg"/></a></div><center>Photograph by Iwan Baan</center>
<br>
Just a few feet from the water at Table Bay Harbour is the Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa. It is even more modern than the South African National Gallery, and is the “largest museum in Africa”. The building is only a few years old and looks like old science fiction's idea of the future when the colonies on the Moon are under attack in the distant year 2000. The South African National Gallery reminded me of the Getty Villa in Los Angeles. MOCAA, as the kids call it, seems like an incredibly well curated museum. But I have to admit that modern art goes right over my head. I can generally get what the artist is trying to say, until I see a bunch of cinder blocks hanging from the ceiling. I have no doubt that it represents something about society and our ills, but it looks like bricks hanging from the ceiling to me.
<br><br>
<u>Victoria & Alfred Waterfront</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4gVWu-yt1J_qjmeToeCvnvXP49ZjZS3MdmfRYtk85T1Klfpl8D4V-LVBmAX4SYVP2HNCKeM1rFJDxoaarsadaZHFOWo4rB5ra74-P-KiHd6vc-4wfhyoNrnfwuRCbCKz5fMwbxgVEzJ5ZbyEzM2sRq7kGS-GHXpd06XMAYKbNDWCjpp3KXYzL7gt/s1920/Victoria%20&%20Alfred%20Waterfront.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4gVWu-yt1J_qjmeToeCvnvXP49ZjZS3MdmfRYtk85T1Klfpl8D4V-LVBmAX4SYVP2HNCKeM1rFJDxoaarsadaZHFOWo4rB5ra74-P-KiHd6vc-4wfhyoNrnfwuRCbCKz5fMwbxgVEzJ5ZbyEzM2sRq7kGS-GHXpd06XMAYKbNDWCjpp3KXYzL7gt/s320/Victoria%20&%20Alfred%20Waterfront.jpg"/></a></div>
Across piers from MOCAA is the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, an outdoor tourist shopping mall on the harbor. Like Pier 39 in San Francisco, it is worth a visit. Once. People call it the V&A or V&A Waterfront, which made me think it was named the Victoria & Albert Waterfront. But it was named after Alfred, one of Victoria and Albert's sons. Brits probably learned about all of these people in school, but South Africans do not seem to care about that entitled family at all.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP173t-YFLRu4UU3VM9ubvoC_BdnIemk2BMms4nla9QvjWTGnAKcHHmdF5Cv19asDkWUc_jqON3lkfhIieqHVT8cRbifnOJFyhixN6BM798xWO421ligAZ7p42ciJ6GOjLEcwOPiD7LF1B7255sieLa3VXSr9jg1avhqUvBSSEcgPiGFQ7pLYJ39op/s1240/Century%20City.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="914" data-original-width="1240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP173t-YFLRu4UU3VM9ubvoC_BdnIemk2BMms4nla9QvjWTGnAKcHHmdF5Cv19asDkWUc_jqON3lkfhIieqHVT8cRbifnOJFyhixN6BM798xWO421ligAZ7p42ciJ6GOjLEcwOPiD7LF1B7255sieLa3VXSr9jg1avhqUvBSSEcgPiGFQ7pLYJ39op/s320/Century%20City.jpg"/></a></div><center>Canal Walk Shopping Centre</center>
<br>
The only other group shopping I did in Cape Town was to the Canal Walk Shopping Centre in Century City because it is next to China Town and built on a canal. Both were disappointing. The mall is supposed to look Venetian, but it looks like something in Las Vegas. It is more upscale, so my colleagues liked it, but it was just another mall to me. The tiny Venetian canal looked neither Italian nor Californian and it led to a bit of a swamp, which was surprising to see in an area that is obviously a high priced residential and retail development. China Town was a smaller shopping mall and had absolutely nothing to do with anything even resembling a Chinatown. Everyone was disappointed in that one, especially since it was low end, dollar store shopping.
<br><br>
<u>Robben Island</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJcWQ39QKuO8bXFEF5W5r7KQA4q85tJ_dqWDN7eHCI0l5nC3x8nNLNcxYXzUpiL4ZCJvPK5PhQIDD3hVM79-ormO4slIrNF8V7zleXsVpLRl5Pd-qono7klfV0isdsOHfsfy9MSYJR0lZfCHmsEKlPAm5qbl_7h1kSDqrSaueI7cxo3Ij_-HcW2O2/s1350/Robben%20Island_THoli.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJcWQ39QKuO8bXFEF5W5r7KQA4q85tJ_dqWDN7eHCI0l5nC3x8nNLNcxYXzUpiL4ZCJvPK5PhQIDD3hVM79-ormO4slIrNF8V7zleXsVpLRl5Pd-qono7klfV0isdsOHfsfy9MSYJR0lZfCHmsEKlPAm5qbl_7h1kSDqrSaueI7cxo3Ij_-HcW2O2/s320/Robben%20Island_THoli.jpeg"/></a></div><center>Photograph by T Holi</center>
<br>
A quick ferry ride from the V&A Waterfront gets you to Robben Island, a small chunk of flat land in Table Bay. No one goes for the beaches. The main compound on the island is now a museum and was a prison for 300 years. The most famous prisoner, by far, was Nelson Mandela, who spent 18 years in a surprisingly large cell. His cell had a window, but the view is of a solid gray wall and the gray prison yard. There was no green anywhere in sight. While the island itself is mostly green and brown, the prison yard is concrete and stone. What I liked about the prison/museum tour was that it was conducted by a former inmate. Since it only closed in 1996, there are still plenty of people alive who experienced in firsthand. They can tell their stories much better than a park ranger at Alcatraz.
<br><br>
Something I will remember until the day I die was listening to a Shoah survivor tell her story at Yad Vashem. Her generation is mostly gone. Soon there will be no one to tell us what they witnessed. There is no point in human history without crimes against humanity. We will always treat the people we categorize as different from us like animals. After enough time has passed, we read about all the atrocities in history books and watch documentaries. We are spoiled for choice when it comes to man's inhumanity to man. But listening to someone who was actually there speak about their personal experience is infinitely more powerful than reading a historian's thesis. Yad Vashem will be a moving place even after all the survivors are gone. I only hope Robben Island will not lose some of its power when there are no longer any former inmates to speak to visitors.
<br><br>
<u>Rhodes Memorial</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_VFMjKoFe05r0IkmkGLNteyJXGMybtnAOrxaPQFJTAu97pfKagHKsBIrPzxx1Y96bORjawNBWqIPa8AnXj1hcJUuLxUWLraMEqNGftDzNkL6v1rN6y_c8zmEv5VoUSqaU5oVvhXeP9Oh7jXFflxVKFv7CWSojJEZ51-QXwFwuFuLw66ueavrFLMD/s1957/Rhodes%20Memorial.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1238" data-original-width="1957" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_VFMjKoFe05r0IkmkGLNteyJXGMybtnAOrxaPQFJTAu97pfKagHKsBIrPzxx1Y96bORjawNBWqIPa8AnXj1hcJUuLxUWLraMEqNGftDzNkL6v1rN6y_c8zmEv5VoUSqaU5oVvhXeP9Oh7jXFflxVKFv7CWSojJEZ51-QXwFwuFuLw66ueavrFLMD/s320/Rhodes%20Memorial.jpg"/></a></div>
The Rhodes Memorial is a controversial site because Cecil Rhodes was a white supremacist who helped oppress the indigenous South African population. With his fortune from mining blood diamonds, he got into politics and championed laws that would hurt the people of South Africa for the next century. Though a reprehensible human being, he died wealthy enough to remain famous today. He has memorials in Cape Town and Kimberley, Northern Cape. Through his mining monopoly, he helped make diamonds ridiculously expensive and bought large chunks of land throughout southern Africa, including what is now the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden and Nyanga National Park in Zimbabwe, and started the Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford University. Rhodes University in Makhanda, Eastern Cape was named after him, as was the entire country of Rhodesia until they changed it to Zimbabwe.
<br><br>
Still, it is a good looking little stone building at the bottom of Devil's Peak, right next to the University of Cape Town. Monuments to horrible people can be nice places to visit. Chiang Kai Shek was a murderous dictator who got rich making his people poor, but the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall is one of the best pieces of architecture in all of Taiwan.
<br><br>
<u>Stellenbosch</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kMekhCi6OpgM-UINxyWIJV1XUoNUMuWiSPrZ0Gii-PnZy8m6bWNOukLyUqTLg0bCG_f_OfxC9CV7NQjyjQ59DDGny3BT0KCcZ0naTo7BSiwkbQhxUC9qYh3bO5StQoFDdXaNSrTPbAE6CNhVf7mdVYQDoQ-2wl6_ZnBq8obUWZ33bkP9qTxwoeWS/s1920/stellenbosch.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="686" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kMekhCi6OpgM-UINxyWIJV1XUoNUMuWiSPrZ0Gii-PnZy8m6bWNOukLyUqTLg0bCG_f_OfxC9CV7NQjyjQ59DDGny3BT0KCcZ0naTo7BSiwkbQhxUC9qYh3bO5StQoFDdXaNSrTPbAE6CNhVf7mdVYQDoQ-2wl6_ZnBq8obUWZ33bkP9qTxwoeWS/s320/stellenbosch.jpg"/></a></div>
Most of our guided tours were within the Cape Town city limits. The biggest exception was when we had a look at some vineyards.
<br><br>
The Cape Winelands region is South Africa's wine capital. Like California's Napa Valley, France's Val de Loire, and Israel's Galil, it is not the only area with vineyards, but it is where most of the award winning wine comes from. We went to Stellenbosch, the largest town in the region surrounded by 150 vineyards. Just outside of Cape Town, Stellenbosch was a quick drive from the City Centre, though it was twice as far away for those of us in Simon's Town. Coincidentally, Simon's Town and Stellenbosch were both named after the same person, Simon van der Stel.
<br><br>
Though practically the same place geographically, Stellenbosch felt different. Cape Town is a large international city with a healthy mix of pretty much every language and ethnic group South Africa has to offer. Stellenbosch is a small town of mostly white people who all speak Afrikaans. As with the rest of South Africa, almost everyone understands English, but the accents were stronger in Stellenbosch. Or at least seemed stronger since they were all mostly the same.
<br><br>
A guided tour through a vineyard would be fascinating for anyone interested in how wine is made. Some in our group loved wine. Some liked it from time to time. Most were indifferent. I used to drink the occasional glass on holidays and during special events. Since I lost my sense of smell, I have had maybe four of five glasses.
<br><br>
Having said all that, the price of wine in Stellenbosch is dirt cheap. We went to a few tastings, none of which did me any good, but everyone else said that every vineyard had some pretty good wine. The Cape Winelands are known for world class wine, and every vineyard told us they had some of the best wine in the world. Little did they know that they were dealing with customers from Taiwan, where every single merchant claims to have the best merchandise. Boasts go in one ear and out the other. Even so, almost everyone in our group bought a bottle or two. It would have been rude not to, and the price was too low to ignore. Wine does nothing for me these days, but I know people back home who might like it, so I bought a few bottles myself.
<br><br>
<u>Table Mountain National Park</u>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHC7eKhmj6YHdCX5lVMPivpiTJ8yH6XbzB9E1VcDcW0fqwXWexEmjkbEXz5g2KTjMbysq2lX90OXTVdQMiONYk3HIcA46IbIWgNovbqJWv5-ZlptencgpECcDJoZb5K1nnb_4r9k0EF_2HNv-E4OIPYnXteArSWekVn4a5IUnhE75VpkPhChu50Hvi/s1920/Table%20Mountain%20National%20Park.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHC7eKhmj6YHdCX5lVMPivpiTJ8yH6XbzB9E1VcDcW0fqwXWexEmjkbEXz5g2KTjMbysq2lX90OXTVdQMiONYk3HIcA46IbIWgNovbqJWv5-ZlptencgpECcDJoZb5K1nnb_4r9k0EF_2HNv-E4OIPYnXteArSWekVn4a5IUnhE75VpkPhChu50Hvi/s320/Table%20Mountain%20National%20Park.jpg"/></a></div>
The most eagerly anticipated guided tour in Cape Town by pretty much all of us was at two different spots on the Cape Peninsula. Though any of us could have gone to either at any time, and most of us returned a few times, having a guide who knew their way around the first time we went was invaluable.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKDpaHWKmGwjjWDZvQw2jwuAxRkDG194onyJc8cDX9xBOvyTo3Crb-vxg4qtDCAyffkr_oQUnUJAzlFJl_KsKtzyi_cmJd2yJbget0nj3nFe-YuTqnze_dE9Fno13aDJy2oPeA_gDwkTfKujjWcElz5kiYSAaTHyHM0xQ7Kc77c1XGJC3852Npmu7/s1200/Cape%20of%20Good%20Hope.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKDpaHWKmGwjjWDZvQw2jwuAxRkDG194onyJc8cDX9xBOvyTo3Crb-vxg4qtDCAyffkr_oQUnUJAzlFJl_KsKtzyi_cmJd2yJbget0nj3nFe-YuTqnze_dE9Fno13aDJy2oPeA_gDwkTfKujjWcElz5kiYSAaTHyHM0xQ7Kc77c1XGJC3852Npmu7/s320/Cape%20of%20Good%20Hope.jpg"/></a></div><center>Cape of Good Hope</center>
<br>
Our first stop was the Cape of Good Hope, the southern tip of the peninsula. Part of the Table Mountain National Park, anyone can go there on their own. With a guide, we walked down trails I would have thought were closed or too dangerous for visitors, and got a crash course in the local flora and fauna. There were flowers and plants on the peninsula that could not be found anywhere else in the world. The people of Cape Town are especially proud of their peninsula sandstone fynbos, which all looked like desert plants to me, even though Cape Town is nowhere near a desert. There were small reptiles and mammals that can be found everywhere, as well as the dassie, a cat sized varmint that looks like a Disney cartoon character. The biggest surprise to our guide was when we ran into a sea otter. Though they burrow and sleep on land, they spend most of their time in the water. Our guide speculated that the one we saw might have been sick since it was out in the open and making no effort to hide from us.
<br><br>
What did not surprise our guide at all were the ostriches. They walked around like they owned the place. They are not afraid of humans, and we were warned not to get too close. Their bark is worse than their bite, which is more like a gentle peck, but they can kick you into next week if threatened. They have serious claws that could easily ruin anyone's day. Fortunately, an ostrich is more likely to run away than attack. And they can run circles around whoever holds any Olympic records.
<br><br>
What surprised no one were the baboons. We were told about their behavior before we left Taiwan, so some of my colleagues were terrified of them. Others suggested no one show any fear. I have no idea if a baboon can sense fear in humans, but I know they are not even the tiniest bit afraid of us. There are only a few hundred baboons on the peninsula, even though it seems like they are everywhere. They even greet visitors at the parking lot. The biggest rule, obviously, is to never give them any food under any circumstances. They are selfish creatures and if you give them a crumb, they will take the entire cake. Not that anyone needs to volunteer food. If you have food on you, they will find it and leave you with nothing. The largest monkeys in the world, they can easily kill a human. For some reason, they almost never do. Humans are far more likely to kill them. Baboons are protected in the Table Mountain National Park, but when they roam into nearby villages, they tend to get shot by people who have a problem with anything breaking into their homes for food.
<br><br>
Ironically, there would be fewer baboons digging through trash if humans had not already killed off all of their predators. The Cape Peninsula used to house lions, leopards, and hyenas before men hunted them out. There were also elephants and rhinoceros, which were not a threat to baboons, but hard to image walking around the cape. Elephants need wide open areas to roam. I cannot picture them on the rocky trails or climbing the mountains.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGrhHU4bkclLJGv3SvqhYTfev0oemw8u8C3Q8fiC1PFNwxigq-pZtKuiAS82Evuumie9w9p9RjwcMKz4GrK4_FTi5LYar9_U5Hf8PQwVm8ZCT_gtlwazifLAb2YgD82WDmuMFNdoxcquejrCntfhKIw4P31YH12VjMcN5VL1__Sh0PatRYaRjvejA/s1440/cableway.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGrhHU4bkclLJGv3SvqhYTfev0oemw8u8C3Q8fiC1PFNwxigq-pZtKuiAS82Evuumie9w9p9RjwcMKz4GrK4_FTi5LYar9_U5Hf8PQwVm8ZCT_gtlwazifLAb2YgD82WDmuMFNdoxcquejrCntfhKIw4P31YH12VjMcN5VL1__Sh0PatRYaRjvejA/s320/cableway.jpg"/></a></div><center>Table Mountain Cableway</center>
<br>
Our second destination on the Cape Peninsula was the most famous, and arguably the most famous landmark in all of South Africa. Table Mountain takes up only a tiny fraction of Table Mountain National Park, yet it dominates Cape Town's skyline. Not only is it the highest point in the city, its flat surface makes it stand out more from a distance than a traditional peak like Lion's Head. That flat surface also makes it an incredibly easy mountain to walk across. You need special equipment to reach the summit of most mountains. For Table Mountain, you need to hike for three hours or take a five minute aerial cableway ride. They can cram more than five dozen people into each cable car, but the cars rotate a full 360 degrees during each ride, so everyone gets a view of everything on the way up or down. Riding the aerial cableway reminded me of the ropeway up Mt Misen on Miyajima. Not that the Miyajima cable car rotated. But at each stop, people got off the cars and huddled around the station, taking pictures and taking in the view. At both locations, if you keep walking for a few minutes, the view gets infinitely better.
<br><br>
Walking around the top of Table Mountain felt like walking on an alien landscape. I assume. I have never actually been to another planet. The sky looks just like Earth, but the ground is rock and scattered fynbos. There is a type of aloe that is only on Table Mountain. Unless you know it is aloe, it could be any alien plant. On most of the mountain top, you cannot see that you are even on a mountain. It looks like a vast rocky plain in every direction, except you can tell that you are at a higher elevation. It feels nothing like Kansas. Other than birds, most of the animals are tiny. The biggest creature I ever saw on Table Mountain was a dassie. Baboons used to roam the flat top, but they all left 30 years ago to find easier food, the experts decided. If you go at the right time, you can find yourself in the middle of the table cloth, a thin layer of clouds that drape themselves over the mountain, like cloth over a table. From the City Centre and Harbour, it looks like a white waterfall pouring over the mountain. On the mountain, it looks like sudden fog rolling in. I almost expected to hear some John Carpenter synthesizer music. I highly recommend it, though it takes some lucky timing. I went up Table Mountain a few times and only got covered by the table cloth once.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNI-bPN2HytneGGau_kx7PWg2-YHqEzYThg7bZcRIJX5wBEBSzi6SKtp9qynnHljTffaKLnOxJSCO0uO0j25s4Jf42l4xoLFE-r5ER0sWBi6ax9QfUe6FpYXaESTALVK2H9BJAcggGucY0Fc2xhz9M7KKFUEB-sV8_npWjZwmGovb_8Ibi-ZU7WDL/s1920/table%20cloth.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNI-bPN2HytneGGau_kx7PWg2-YHqEzYThg7bZcRIJX5wBEBSzi6SKtp9qynnHljTffaKLnOxJSCO0uO0j25s4Jf42l4xoLFE-r5ER0sWBi6ax9QfUe6FpYXaESTALVK2H9BJAcggGucY0Fc2xhz9M7KKFUEB-sV8_npWjZwmGovb_8Ibi-ZU7WDL/s320/table%20cloth.jpg"/></a></div>
From any of the ledges on the plateau, you can definitely tell you are on a mountain. They have walkways and viewing platforms at the northern ledge because that faces downtown Cape Town and Table Bay. At over 1000 meters above sea level, there is no better vantage point anywhere in the city. From the western ledge, you look down on Clifton, Camps Bay, and the Atlantic Ocean. The rocky eastern ledge faces the vast Table Flats. It also holds Maclear's Beacon, a rock mound set up by an Irish astronomer almost 200 years ago. At five meters tall, it is the highest point on Table Mountain, which makes it the highest point in Cape Town. The southern side slopes downhill, with more mountain than table, so there is no dramatic ledge from which to stand in amazement. But it is the infinitely easier side to hike up and down.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVkAq-vIxR554EUjZhzABGdf7H5LAjImijF9wT01xc7LveU4H3yPu9q0cq2xiV_tuQpXqrMkKMpH0AbWsOWv6zAf6V8pbrbTdL8SaD8h4bE5vKsnGED3jy-OOptNiJJxDYr8xfihqUScK027xtEnxbCfBCJdBdN9IGSrqnDZRmy6prLmrS80AXzL_/s1800/Camps%20Bay.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVkAq-vIxR554EUjZhzABGdf7H5LAjImijF9wT01xc7LveU4H3yPu9q0cq2xiV_tuQpXqrMkKMpH0AbWsOWv6zAf6V8pbrbTdL8SaD8h4bE5vKsnGED3jy-OOptNiJJxDYr8xfihqUScK027xtEnxbCfBCJdBdN9IGSrqnDZRmy6prLmrS80AXzL_/s320/Camps%20Bay.jpg"/></a></div><center>Camps Bay and Lion's Head from Table Mountain</center>
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hET6WYqoLv1JRheAHeFjQuHTmhtEpDV6wKuPF65b0zCkKMrBboiKB4TaC5pWV-Y1bW8cXSWK5Ixlh3JCLxkF6Nm5mA-niY9m9J6HWuX3N5iyU2Vu73Uwm0mZyQgWtgxUXs7FOsW_yeinsS4mlkbD2ir7HJz1nifJnTNs55WYHmdYK9O4Ke7XdHs-/s1920/table%20mountain_Tom%20Podmore.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hET6WYqoLv1JRheAHeFjQuHTmhtEpDV6wKuPF65b0zCkKMrBboiKB4TaC5pWV-Y1bW8cXSWK5Ixlh3JCLxkF6Nm5mA-niY9m9J6HWuX3N5iyU2Vu73Uwm0mZyQgWtgxUXs7FOsW_yeinsS4mlkbD2ir7HJz1nifJnTNs55WYHmdYK9O4Ke7XdHs-/s320/table%20mountain_Tom%20Podmore.jpg"/></a></div><center>Lion's Head, Signal Hill, City Centre
<br>with Robben Island, Table Bay, Bloubergstrand
<br>Photograph by Tom Podmore</center>
<br><br>
<hr>
Just a reminder, I did not take any of these photographs. These are placeholders until I can replace them with my own. I am attempting to give credit to the photographers when I know who they are.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-78109938776484353532022-12-06T13:25:00.006+08:002023-01-29T16:08:47.264+08:00African Tour:Cape Agulhas<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgph5LmbT077M7QrQPILhMoaZUvi1AJ3Hs5pIS7b3gQh107f6EJFgCo8v59QTEvAod57IKc-OcgeDP7k3pmBNAc6CmlU8EQ6ONYbZY2m5fff5LXmqkktzHeu3fEdtK3cDU-ypVzfm0sVF4hflb3-iOO_XitS2VPeBlrSaF_Mlne8mAQd1oSgnjrjUtB/s1400/Cape%20Agulhas.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgph5LmbT077M7QrQPILhMoaZUvi1AJ3Hs5pIS7b3gQh107f6EJFgCo8v59QTEvAod57IKc-OcgeDP7k3pmBNAc6CmlU8EQ6ONYbZY2m5fff5LXmqkktzHeu3fEdtK3cDU-ypVzfm0sVF4hflb3-iOO_XitS2VPeBlrSaF_Mlne8mAQd1oSgnjrjUtB/s320/Cape%20Agulhas.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Cape Agulhas
<br>Photograph by Job Thomas</center>
<br>
About a week into Cape Town, a few of us decided to go to Agulhas National Park. As national parks go, Agulhas does not have much to brag about. Apparently, it is the smallest national park in South Africa. That was a little refreshing. Everything else claimed to be the largest whatever it was on the continent. Agulhas has no need to overcompensate for how tiny it is. There are two reasons to go, which happened to be the two reasons we wanted to go.
<br><br>
Cape Agulhas is as far south as you can possibly go in Africa. It is also where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans crash into each other. I doubt I will ever go to the southern tips of Argentina or Chile. Unless I go to Melbourne or New Zealand someday, this is about as south as I am ever going to get.
<br><br>
Since Agulhas National Park was not on any scheduled guided tour, we had to find our own way. Since it was over 200 kilometers from our house, taking a taxi was not an option. Something we found incredibly easy to do in South Africa was rent a car. Or hire a car in the local lingo. In some parts of the world, renting a car can be difficult when you have a foreign driver's license. I have had an international permit for years, but using it is always hit and miss. Since my Taiwan license is entirely in Chinese and my Hong Kong license has a lot of Chinese on it, people in English speaking countries get confused. Oddly enough, it never bothers anyone in Israel, a country whose language looks absolutely nothing like English or Chinese.
<br><br>
In South Africa, a country that speaks English and a dozen other languages, no one cared about all the Chinese. Their big rule was that only one person could drive the car, unless we paid for additional drivers. That turned out to be unnecessary since all of the lower priced rental cars had manual transmissions and I was the only one in our little group who could drive a stick. And as terrible as it sounds to say, everyone else was Taiwanese. They had no business driving in a country that obeys basic traffic laws and common sense. Most stereotypes are beyond ignorant, but Chinese drivers truly are horrible. The biggest reasons for that, in my professional opinion, are that no one has to learn how to drive before taking the driving test and none of the existing traffic laws are enforced. Why learn how to drive properly when no one cares whether you do or not. There are no police patrolling the streets of China/Taiwan, so you will never be pulled over. As long as you stop at the red lights that have cameras and only seldom crash into anyone, you can drive as incompetently as you want.
<br><br>
I learned how to drive in Minnesota. I realize how American that makes me sound, but we had to demonstrate an ability to operate the vehicle in traffic in order to get a license. And we had police cars all over the place, any of which could pull you over at any time for a million different reasons. Unlike Taiwan, you can actually lose your license, or even your car, by being a bad driver in the United States. There is ample incentive to do better.
<br><br>
In Cape Town, we rented a shiny blue 2022 Volkswagen Polo 5 speed. Back before I owned a car, I used to love renting cars. It was an opportunity to drive, usually in an unfamiliar place. Now that I have my own car and drive to work every day, some of that magic is gone. There is nothing wrong with the Volkswagen Polo, but my car at home is better in every measurable way. The only thing I would change about my car if I could is that it is not fully manual. The rental car was. So even though it was a much weaker car, it was fun to drive.
<br><br>
The drive from Cape Town to Cape Agulhas was scenic, once we got out of the city. Cape Town is a beautiful city surrounded by nature, but unless you are looking directly toward one mountain or another, the view from most freeways is grass or suburbs. Beyond the city limits, we went up into the Hottentots Holland Mountains. They actually named them that. It was mostly winding hill roads going up and down with a few small towns here and there. Just before the cape, there was an endless stretch on a flat road that went in a straight line. We went from a scenic mountain drive to Interstate 5 in Central California. I almost fell asleep. When the road followed the coast, we drove between the shore and some comfortable looking houses. There was a nice mix of new and overpriced to older beach cottages. They all had great views of the ocean.
<br><br>
The last residential area before the cape was the little laid back beach town of L'Agulhas. Rather than overcharge tourists for the food, every shop owner seemed genuinely friendly. The cashier at the local grocery store told me that they rarely got any foreigners. Given its distance from Cape Town, I could see why. That also explained why so many locals were curious about where we came from. Taiwanese are not the most demonstrative people in the world, and my friends were uncomfortable at first with total strangers coming up to us and asking questions, until they saw how relaxed I was. Since they knew I was from a place with infinitely more crime and chaos than anything they could imagine, they generally looked to me when trying to decide if any given situation was dangerous or not. That was a lot of responsibility, especially when I had never been to South Africa. The country was just as foreign to me as it was to everyone else. Even worse, my last real boyfriend was from South Africa. That gave my colleagues even more reason to assume I knew anything about the place. He told me stories of his homeland, of course, but I was as much out of water as he would be in the United States.
<br><br>
I felt at home in L'Agulhas. It is a tiny village of only a few hundred people. I could never imagine living somewhere so small, yet like Courseulles-sur-Mer, Normandy and Lisse, South Holland, there was something about it that felt innately comfortable. It also would have been an exceptional place to ride a bicycle, called a boney for some reason. Coincidentally, I rented a Volkswagen Polo in Normandy, though a much earlier model. Other than the name, I would never know they were the same car. I could not have planned that even if I wanted to. When we made the reservation, we booked a Toyota Yaris “or similar”.
<br><br>
Almost the entire route from Cape Town to Cape Agulhas was well maintained highways and roads. Until we hit the Cape Agulhas Lighthouse. The lighthouse itself was pretty small and not much more than a pit stop right around the corner from our final destination. Beyond the lighthouse was a dirt road leading to a small dirt parking lot. There was also a wooden walking path from the lighthouse to the ocean. I was expecting some kind of monument, and was delighted to see that they left everything natural. Other than the wood boards and a small sign pointing out that the Indian Ocean was on the left and the Atlantic Ocean on the right, the area probably looked the same as it did a few hundred years ago. There were some serious waves while we were there, but no one went to surf. The shore is several miles of jagged rocks. Even swimming would be suicidal. The only real reason to go to Cape Agulhas is to say that you went to the southern tip of Africa.
<br><br>
One of the first things I noticed about driving in South Africa was how polite the other drivers were. In China and Taiwan, it is kill or be killed. Everyone wants to be first, all the time. There are no stop signs because there is no right of way, so we all get to spend more time at stoplights. There are no passing lanes because everyone has to be first, all the time. In South Africa, drivers actually changed lanes so I could pass them. Not only did they not try to block me, they actively moved out of my way. At one point, a big rig truck moved into the next lane so I could pass. We were going uphill. Changing lanes must have slowed him down, but he made the effort for no other reason than for my convenience. And maybe the law. I was blown away. That would never happen in Taiwan. You either find your own way around the truck or stay behind it until it gets off the freeway. The first few times I let someone pass me, I wondered why their emergency lights were blinking. Something I have never encountered anywhere else in the world was drivers thanking each other for pulling over by turning on their emergency lights. That seems like a pleasant little habit we could easily make universal.
<br><br>
Most of the driving rules in South Africa were pretty straightforward. All of the road signs were in English, which was convenient. My Taiwanese friends found it disorienting, or disorientating, that traffic flowed on the left. Since I have been driving in Hong Kong for almost 12 years, it felt normal to me. My car at home is right hand drive, even though Taiwan is traffic right. If I can get used to that, driving a car with the steering wheel on the correct side relative to traffic is easy. I still prefer to shift with my right hand, but I will take what I can get.
<br><br>
Filling the car with gas was almost the same as Taiwan. The people who work at the station do it for you. Except in South Africa they also wash your windshield and check your tires, or tyres. It was almost like full service in the United States, without any self service option. I can't remember the last time I actually pumped my own gas. It might have been in Spain.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2Ua3Aodqm1SToDt5VmGew6QF2BB7TIQKkYgqvejcnkM0Up4xWi5Clb-Teu_IfAmOxh9WoqmCrn4G_MwAilNvBSh5QNUxzMpjeMxTUj4fD_TqpoweQMf8i1qolujJTERF8uRRTMx978bd4n3R_F492XHLEw3bMdIcIGc1RUm8B5PFGUr0bBuyBViv/s1560/Agulhas.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="975" data-original-width="1560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2Ua3Aodqm1SToDt5VmGew6QF2BB7TIQKkYgqvejcnkM0Up4xWi5Clb-Teu_IfAmOxh9WoqmCrn4G_MwAilNvBSh5QNUxzMpjeMxTUj4fD_TqpoweQMf8i1qolujJTERF8uRRTMx978bd4n3R_F492XHLEw3bMdIcIGc1RUm8B5PFGUr0bBuyBViv/s320/Agulhas.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>L'Agulhas, South Africa</center>
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-49231687594251145652022-11-23T14:44:00.010+08:002023-02-09T14:27:54.467+08:00African Tour:Cape Town part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeJSCJkURO3DVskuQF24pkQqS9Cc-GU8VGRz50L8N6xnkrtn45sV2y7gXVN4vjzHtWpexrQD8mKtLnZWbqoXlz3AXFtWgKBKkPWGUw4VY3AQCGK6tBATN3G68v7H3n4oIkKirjs9DjzIuUjP-oDtuP5keBAZhZnHCdi3osUEwgd8lo7LWJfgqBfLn/s1900/CPT.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1264" data-original-width="1900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeJSCJkURO3DVskuQF24pkQqS9Cc-GU8VGRz50L8N6xnkrtn45sV2y7gXVN4vjzHtWpexrQD8mKtLnZWbqoXlz3AXFtWgKBKkPWGUw4VY3AQCGK6tBATN3G68v7H3n4oIkKirjs9DjzIuUjP-oDtuP5keBAZhZnHCdi3osUEwgd8lo7LWJfgqBfLn/s320/CPT.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Cape Town International Airport
<br>Cape Town, South Africa</center>
<br>
The flight from Durban to Cape Town took a little over two hours and was the opposite of eventful. As with Durban, we were all driven by car to different apartments/houses. The biggest difference was the size.
<br><br>
King Shaka International Airport is in the suburbs of Durban, outside of the city limits, but no more than a half hour drive from downtown. Cape Town International Airport is smack dab in the middle of the city, but it took us over an hour to get to our house. Not only is Cape Town ten times larger than Durban, but our house was in Simon's Town, about as far south as you can go on the Cape Peninsula without hitting protected wilderness. Getting to the house from the airport required three different freeways. When we finally got off the freeway, we were on a long street along the coast. The street got noticeably smaller as we passed through downtown Simon's Town. With most of the city behind us, we turned onto a smaller road that went gradually uphill and then dramatically uphill. We turned onto a tiny lane that looked more suitable for Taiwanese scooters than South African pickup trucks. From scooter lane, we turned onto a slightly wider road that went even further uphill. An hour and twenty minutes after we left the airport, we turned onto a dead end alley. Had this happened in the middle of the night, and had our driver been even close to menacing, this could have been a spooky ride. But we left the airport at ten in the morning, the drive along the coast was cheery, and our driver could not have been friendlier.
<br><br>
From the alley, it looked like we would all be staying in a tiny cottage not nearly large enough for seven people. The house was on a slope, so we had to go indoors before we fully understood its size. The top floor was a two car garage that could only fit small cars. The garage interior was large enough for an American SUV, but the separate garage doors were barely wide enough to fit a Volkswagen. Half a floor down was the tiniest front yard, the front door, a half bathroom, and what could only be described as the mudroom. They probably call it something else in South Africa. The next floor down was somehow four times larger than the floor above. What we came to call the second floor had a large living room, an enormous kitchen, a decent sized dining room, and a full bathroom. There was also a balcony across the entire rear of the house. The bottom floor had three bedrooms and four full bathrooms. The large backyard could be reached by a sliding glass door from each of the bedrooms. Beyond the backyard was a plot of empty land not quite large enough to build another house. Without the fence between the yard and empty land, we would have assumed the entire thing was the backyard. From the street, the back of the house looked like it should have been the front, except there was no front door and the address was posted on the alley side. All of the houses on the street were similar, with inviting backyards on the larger street and small entrances on the alley.
<br><br>
The bedrooms were nothing like what I expected. Instead of a master bedroom, the largest looked like a dorm room. It had four bunk beds, enough for eight people. We only had seven staying at the house, so the four youngest shared that room. At first, we thought the house only had four and a half bathrooms. Then someone opened one of the closets in the largest bedroom and discovered the door to another bathroom. It was an odd design. From the room, it looked like a wall of closets. If you opened the doors on the left and right, you got closet. If you opened the middle door, there was a tiny hallway that led to a full sized bathroom behind all the closets.
<br><br>
The medium sized room looked like any other bedroom with its own bathroom. Two of our more senior dancers shared that one. As the highest ranking person in the house, I took the single room. It was pretty small, but it had its own bathroom. I never really cared about the size of the room since most of the time I spent in the house was either in the kitchen or on that large balcony.
<br><br>
I liked the Durban kitchen better. It was smaller and felt more like a home. The Cape Town kitchen was large and had every appliance we could ever need, except a rice cooker. The kitchen was fully loaded with a stainless steel refrigerator, oven, stove, dishwasher, toaster oven, toaster, microwave, blenders, mixers, pots and pans, dishes and utensils. But it was all western style. There was not a single chopstick in the house and we all missed not having a rice cooker. The Cape Town kitchen was larger, fancier, and obviously more expensive. It felt like it was designed for entertaining guests. I liked the Durban kitchen better because it was designed for making a quiet dinner at home.
<br><br>
The balcony was the best feature of the house. The view from the front yard was the house across the alley. The view from the backyard was the house across the street. Since all the houses were on a slope, they all had a balcony facing northeast. We had an unobstructed view of the northern tip of False Bay. The sunsets were nice, but the sun went down the other side of the Cape Peninsula. Sunrises were spectacular. Since I generally wake up before the dawn, I watched the sun come up over the mountains that surround Cape Town and reflect off the water in the bay almost every morning. Most of my roommates missed it.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYAU5CgStxM46o5i_vH-iMKI9bHNroXM0jAWkp0UO6RJlqoSzW-9HH4Nh6iDwo2wD9uTKULgKL4YZhkzCrB67N-ZF-YOgRqviaCFgal5Ous3PdRpShr3c5_xWdjQVXf16qJZBPBxmmV7Y7BKpFyqHrU4zqEuYgzxV1MYEh1HEAGYWRYU1_SfbOEdxX/s1000/Simons%20Town2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYAU5CgStxM46o5i_vH-iMKI9bHNroXM0jAWkp0UO6RJlqoSzW-9HH4Nh6iDwo2wD9uTKULgKL4YZhkzCrB67N-ZF-YOgRqviaCFgal5Ous3PdRpShr3c5_xWdjQVXf16qJZBPBxmmV7Y7BKpFyqHrU4zqEuYgzxV1MYEh1HEAGYWRYU1_SfbOEdxX/s320/Simons%20Town2.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Not the actual balcony, but pretty close.</center>
<br>
I also saw a whale one day. I was standing on the balcony minding my own business when a whale just popped out of the water. It was too far away for me to even guess what kind of whale it was, but it was definitely a whale. There were more than a few dolphins in False Bay, but any movement from them just looked like waves at that distance. This was clearly a whale jumping halfway out of the water and crashing onto its back. My roommates spent a lot of time looking for their own whales, but none of us ever saw another one. At least not from that balcony.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ15z4F0tUE-DsrPRWtfJf7KAcBHFjXaf-KSGK6ggt3SLNoYVn7Dh-3W-M7DhkZVkHto4OGmPctEQQ6zatkqQgWUx3FBkttJQXKjNxqWJSOPda5-XS77U748mC70YXrd-QdnAP42Kna6jJmQumOK9OwlnOsSE0smUHP7eNwZLw_mJyqMRpnjvcNmW/s1500/Artscape%20Theatre%20Centre.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="977" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ15z4F0tUE-DsrPRWtfJf7KAcBHFjXaf-KSGK6ggt3SLNoYVn7Dh-3W-M7DhkZVkHto4OGmPctEQQ6zatkqQgWUx3FBkttJQXKjNxqWJSOPda5-XS77U748mC70YXrd-QdnAP42Kna6jJmQumOK9OwlnOsSE0smUHP7eNwZLw_mJyqMRpnjvcNmW/s320/Artscape%20Theatre%20Centre.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Artscape Theatre Centre</center>
<br>
Transportation in Cape Town was similar to Durban in that we were all picked up and driven to work. That was convenient, especially since we worked more in Cape Town than anywhere else. In other cities, we introduced a few traditional Chinese dance styles to the locals, everyone mostly got a kick out of it, and we moved on. In Cape Town, we learned a traditional African dance, a variation of the Makhibo. That required extra work on our part. Every other show was full of routines everyone knew backward and forward. The Makhibo was brand new to all of us.
<br><br>
Fortunately, we had some free time in between all the rehearsing, though finding our own transportation was more complicated. Since Durban is ten times smaller than Cape Town, it was much easier to get around. I could walk to the beach in less than half an hour, and walk the entire promenade in less than an hour. Cape Town was a harder city to walk around. Boulders Beach was only a few hundred meters away, but with all the winding hill roads, it took a good ten minutes. Downtown Cape Town was more than 40 kilometers from the house. I have no idea how long that would have taken to walk. When we arrived, it looked like staying in Simon's Town was going to be inconvenient.
<br><br>
Local transportation in Cape Town is not exactly admired the world over. The bus lines were convoluted and never really went where we wanted to go. The Metrorail's Simonstown Line went from the main station to Simon's Town. People rave about the view from the train, but that is only during the 20 minute stretch along False Bay. The rest of the ride is an hour in the suburbs. Since Cape Town was designed for cars, taxis were our primary ride off the clock.
<br><br>
And we had plenty of places to go. Cape Town has pretty much everything you need in a single city. You can climb a mountain, swim in the ocean, ogle birds, keep at least one eye on baboons, and run away from an ostrich all in one day. As long as you have transportation.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-87788506509506131522022-11-14T12:22:00.007+08:002023-02-09T14:21:25.144+08:00African Tour:Durban<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbm6vcI19I9VUSlmOmD8ENzszMYAgJ4BfGTqPayxuO6uOZCLDb0ldYJpa7ma-R-i7cQvFt3bb3Wzh3OEL7w69mr1QX29JJy5qiviGfbH3gNo76UfTgiPDKNVL_DlyH_ZLD7pOkG3y8kmX3R0Qcyc3xSBSm_9E10suXbnsjEp4Zk0vWKhg2t4qgmjz/s1280/HLA.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbm6vcI19I9VUSlmOmD8ENzszMYAgJ4BfGTqPayxuO6uOZCLDb0ldYJpa7ma-R-i7cQvFt3bb3Wzh3OEL7w69mr1QX29JJy5qiviGfbH3gNo76UfTgiPDKNVL_DlyH_ZLD7pOkG3y8kmX3R0Qcyc3xSBSm_9E10suXbnsjEp4Zk0vWKhg2t4qgmjz/s320/HLA.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Lanseria International Airport
<br>Johannesburg, South Africa</center>
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvzRlHFCZNDeSb5h15OhyKAcOy2H3o4r6I34eo1x0W-3OaXtqHhI4h26B1lBt6oP2mIFqZWSxniRHoj9I2wxo8X8Jy-2T3NRTSs2CA26Gu-YnDTO7iLli0yIQuUo79xc9TTLLIxWEmHtsRW3-2S0_x0RnLjy8F7DWHPNP6fLr8b0e9bC9v5GxGIX3x/s1900/DUR.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1046" data-original-width="1900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvzRlHFCZNDeSb5h15OhyKAcOy2H3o4r6I34eo1x0W-3OaXtqHhI4h26B1lBt6oP2mIFqZWSxniRHoj9I2wxo8X8Jy-2T3NRTSs2CA26Gu-YnDTO7iLli0yIQuUo79xc9TTLLIxWEmHtsRW3-2S0_x0RnLjy8F7DWHPNP6fLr8b0e9bC9v5GxGIX3x/s320/DUR.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>King Shaka International Airport
<br>Durban, South Africa</center>
<br>
Our flight to Durban was short and easy. We spent more time in the terminal than on the plane, though there were no delays this time. Rather than fly out of OR Tambo International Airport, we left Johannesburg from Lanseria International Airport, a much smaller airport. It has international in its name, but I only saw signs for flights to other cities in South Africa.
<br><br>
The drive to the hotel was also faster. At least for four of us. Instead of piling everyone into a business hotel, we all stayed at apartments and B&Bs around town. I have no idea if that was a better arrangement, and I doubt it was more efficient, but I liked it a lot more. There was nothing wrong with the hotel in Johannesburg. It was a clean place to sleep and close to major thoroughfares. In Durban, I stayed with three other dancers in a nice little apartment in the Morningside neighborhood. We were an easy walk to Mitchell Park, a Spar grocery store, Florida Road, and Battery Beach.
<br><br>
The grocery store was convenient since we were in an apartment instead of a hotel. The apartment's kitchen was more than adequate and was even stocked with a few staples right before we arrived. The husband and wife owners lived close by and were happy to help out with pretty much anything we needed. Caroline brought us homemade rusks every morning, which we all appreciated even if we never ate them until later in the day. She even drove us to the grocery store when we made our biggest run. There was a washer and dryer directly below the apartment, but we found the washer difficult to use. Betty, the housekeeper, did all of our laundry for most of our stay. I felt a little bad about having an older black woman wash my clothes, especially in a South African apartment owned by a white couple, but she did an incredible job. Whenever we put anything in the laundry bags, it came back cleaned, ironed, and neatly folded. No one ever charged us anything for the laundry, so we left Betty a decent tip before we checked out. My Taiwanese roommates thought that everyone should do the best job they could regardless of their pay, but I convinced them that in tipping cultures, it is always a good idea to tip well for exceptional service. I had the same conversation every time any of us went to a restaurant.
<br><br>
Betty was the highlight of Durban. She probably had a fascinating life story, but was reluctant to talk about herself, so I never pushed her. Something she loved to talk about were her grandchildren, which made my roommates feel bad that she was cleaning up after us. The cultural differences were interesting. Where I had white guilt and never really thought about her age, they had generation guilt and never thought about her race. For her part, Betty seemed to have the meaning of life sorted out. I would not mind spending a day as content as she always was.
<br><br>
Florida Road is this week's trendy restaurant street. We saw plenty of tip jars. It had Spiga, a vaguely Italian café with a lot of penne dishes; Glamwich, a haven for avocado toast and bunny chow; Times Square, which always seemed more popular at drinking time than at eating time; Bird & Co, a chicken and pizza place that looked like fast food at restaurant prices; Paul's Homemade Ice Cream, which had confusing flavors, like the vegan “No Cow and Chicken”. I understand the no cow part, but never knew ice cream had chicken in it; House of Curries, with the largest bunny chow menu; the Firehouse, a pizza place with trendy toppings like avocado, toasted coconut, cashews, and teriyaki sauce; Sofra Istanbul, a Turkish restaurant with frozen french fries; Sabroso, with its generic Mexican menu; Fired Up Pizzeria, with pizzas so ugly, I did not even want to step inside; Flamin' Wok, a vaguely Thai restaurant with fortune cookies; and Tommy's Sushi, with “Chinese takeaway”. It was not Chinese. There were even more restaurants on the next block. The entire street was wall to wall restaurants. We could have eaten at a different place every day, even without going to other parts of the city.
<br><br>
The Thai place was noteworthy, even though no one thought it tasted like Thai food. They had fortune cookies, which I had to explain to my Taiwanese colleagues, who had never heard of such a thing. There is something surreal about sitting in a Thai restaurant in South Africa and describing American Chinese food to Chinese people. My colleagues were flabbergasted when I told them that everyone in the United States thinks Chinese people eat fortune cookies.
<br><br>
Bunny chow had to be explained to all of us. It is a loaf of white bread stuffed with curry. A quarter bunny is more than large enough for one person. Rabbits are not involved in any way. It was invented by Indian immigrants as an explicitly vegetarian dish. There are disputed theories about why they are called bunnies and which restaurant in Durban, if any, has the original. Fortunately, we asked what bunny chow was early in the trip. We would see it on more than a few menus throughout Durban.
<br><br>
Transportation in Durban was a little more complicated than Johannesburg. Rather than pick everyone up from one hotel in a charter bus, our drivers went to all of our different apartments and drove us around in cars. That meant we never all arrived at rehearsals at the same time, which meant more time in transit despite driving shorter distances. Guided tours were also more complicated. Everyone was driven by car to a meeting point and then driven as a group by bus to whatever tourist trap was on the agenda that day. I mostly avoided all of that, with a few exceptions.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6rDLxWe8SD9ZuKzUrA6Tk8io_nL45I1rKuiD2AVDrbokeSXj8gW1d5DHzSarLlKw0Cn0mx4o9ERjZsvGLLRKQrukFB1o1OPh621hooh8crZyo0p9SyOMuwIqd3j3BOUGRl5PKEChQACzXCfFeTfCzKLNviCYOrWGpN3NOAQFu_yLrr2uGXSBTBLi/s1920/Gateway%20Theatre%20Of%20Shopping.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1392" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6rDLxWe8SD9ZuKzUrA6Tk8io_nL45I1rKuiD2AVDrbokeSXj8gW1d5DHzSarLlKw0Cn0mx4o9ERjZsvGLLRKQrukFB1o1OPh621hooh8crZyo0p9SyOMuwIqd3j3BOUGRl5PKEChQACzXCfFeTfCzKLNviCYOrWGpN3NOAQFu_yLrr2uGXSBTBLi/s320/Gateway%20Theatre%20Of%20Shopping.jpeg"/></a></div>
<center>Gateway Theatre of Shopping
<br>Umhlanga, South Africa</center>
<br>
When everyone else went to the Gateway Theatre Of Shopping in Umhlanga, a few of us took the bus and went to Umhlanga Beach. The Gateway Theatre Of Shopping claims to be the “largest shopping mall in the Southern Hemisphere”. Umhlanga Beach is famous for its lighthouse and rocky coast just beyond the soft sandy beach. With a long promenade right next to the beach, it is a great place to walk on sand or pavement, though a lousy spot for surfing or swimming. There was no way any of my colleagues would want to swim in an ocean anyway.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOd4wohJsl90TScmopvDaEpCKCHOlOSvTLYWhH7_Nl5EW2GeWPCOIOr9lofVFlfUYYFuwbrdEFn-IguKSXQbH1ZW9lckyWXLW7dR5jPmoUHRGDTfMWBwHrHfpwFyzMuLyOs9OT7E6CxGHXI0xVF8-QQ1RVxgp0-ZaAjtcjm_z8yrbi8OCgo_7VxKg/s2362/Umhlanga%20Beach_lcswart.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1575" data-original-width="2362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOd4wohJsl90TScmopvDaEpCKCHOlOSvTLYWhH7_Nl5EW2GeWPCOIOr9lofVFlfUYYFuwbrdEFn-IguKSXQbH1ZW9lckyWXLW7dR5jPmoUHRGDTfMWBwHrHfpwFyzMuLyOs9OT7E6CxGHXI0xVF8-QQ1RVxgp0-ZaAjtcjm_z8yrbi8OCgo_7VxKg/s320/Umhlanga%20Beach_lcswart.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Umhlanga Beach
<br>Photograph by LC Swart</center>
<br>
When everyone took a bus to the Pavilion Shopping Centre in Westville, I walked down the Golden Mile. From the pictures I saw, the Pavilion looked a little like the Taipei 101 mall. One of the stores at the mall is a Christian bookstore called CUM Books. Being immature, this caught my attention. I was disappointed to learn that CUM stands for Christelike Uitgewers Maatskappy, which means Christian Publishing Company in Afrikaans. The Golden Mile is both a beach and several beaches along a seven kilometer stretch from Blue Lagoon Beach to the North Pier. It has none of the famous rocks of Umhlanga Beach up the coast, which makes it a much better place for surfing and swimming. It has the “longest beachfront promenade in sub-Saharan Africa”, which only made me curious where the longest promenade in North Africa was. The promenade and beaches were an easy walk from our apartment, so I went there more than a few times. The first time I went into the water, I thought it was my first time in the Indian Ocean. Then I remembered that I did some beach swimming in Bali almost ten years ago.
<br><br>
Not that I avoided all the guided tours. I went with the group to the Durban Botanic Gardens, which was far more botanic than the Walter Sisulu Botanical Gardens in Johannesburg. It had more flowers, which is probably a good thing. There was even a separate orchid house, the “largest orchid collection in South Africa”, naturally. It was closed that day. The butterfly habitat was open, and a great place to look at butterflies, if you are into that sort of thing. The garden was especially proud of its tree collection. They bragged about their palm trees, which are not so impressive for those of us who live on a tropical island. They also had a lot of jacaranda trees, which are common in South Africa and not something we ever see at home. Even though we were there while the flowers were in bloom, the locals did not seem to care. What we found different, they found ordinary, and vice versa. The best part of the gardens was probably the small lake, where we saw more than a few birds I could never identify.
<br><br>
The Durban Natural Science Museum is inside city hall rather than its own dedicated building. It might be the smallest natural science museum I have ever been to, but all the children we saw loved it. That is really all that matters. If you can get them interested when they are still young and care about things, maybe they will care when they get older.
<br><br>
The Umgeni River Bird Park near the mouth of the Umgeni River had even more birds I could never hope to name. I recognized the flamingos, pelicans, swans, owls, toucans, peacocks, macaws, vultures, and those little Australian birds that got Men At Work sued. If they have over 300 species, that means I barely knew any of them. The bird park is essentially a zoo, which is never my favorite place to go. I was in a part of Africa where you can see animals in their natural habitat. Gawking at them in cages is the last thing I want to do, but the Umgeni River Bird Park breeds 17 different endangered species. That has to count for something. It was also free.
<br><br>
The worst guided tour was to the Japanese Gardens, which is a waste of time for anyone who has been to Japan or a garden. It is a park with a few generic Japanese decorations here and there. The only interesting aspect to the Japanese Gardens are the monkeys that wander around. Something we were warned about before we left Taiwan, besides crime, were the baboons in South Africa. Apparently, they are even bigger troublemakers than macaques. The monkeys we saw in the park were smaller and much calmer. Though not at all afraid of us, they never tried to steal anything from anyone.
<br><br>
Next to the Japanese Gardens was Sun Sun Supermarket. Billed as an Asian grocery store “With Everything Asian Under the Sun”, some of my colleagues were excited to check it out. I was more than a little skeptical. Outside of Asia, “Asian” usually means dry noodles and soy sauce. Surprisingly, it looked a lot like a Chinese grocery store, only with far more signs in English. They even had Super Supau, which I have never seen outside of Taiwan. Everyone in the building except me could have been from East Asia, which is what most people outside of Asia mean when they talk about Asia. Nothing west of India ever counts. Though their inventory was much smaller than everything under the sun, my colleagues walked out with full bags.
<br><br>
Watching Taiwanese people shop is an odd experience. We were in a part of the world none of us had ever been to before. Yet instead of buying ceramic giraffes and zebra keychains, they mostly bought clothes made in China and Vietnam from stores similar or exactly the same as what we have at home. When it came to food, the less exotic the better. Even though I could never taste anything, I wanted to try the local dishes. I have no idea what bunny chow tastes like, but I have eaten it in a few different places. They could taste everything, and wanted the most familiar food they could find. Taiwanese would have been preferable, but Chinese would have to do. There was nothing in all those Sun Sun bags they could not buy at home.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSpnP6R-UdjAlt7wkxI04hzX3bLueLy_YguRXihPg0PC9eBJAqg8yG06E-F6EkgiNhPtjs3-OhsB3IOqOJiaLoi8aAcB9m9wCR2AikVj0kX7ODklgbYgrSrstCGz65oQxmN-EtqoDIM-tLhZXc1eyF72E_XTyZ0tQ3wnoClvgYrqGphVBUAU7vmOtN/s1290/Playhouse%20Theatre.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSpnP6R-UdjAlt7wkxI04hzX3bLueLy_YguRXihPg0PC9eBJAqg8yG06E-F6EkgiNhPtjs3-OhsB3IOqOJiaLoi8aAcB9m9wCR2AikVj0kX7ODklgbYgrSrstCGz65oQxmN-EtqoDIM-tLhZXc1eyF72E_XTyZ0tQ3wnoClvgYrqGphVBUAU7vmOtN/s320/Playhouse%20Theatre.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>The Playhouse Company Theatre
<br>We also did some work with the Siwela Sonke Dance Theatre, who were all fantastic.</center>
<br>
September to November is spring in South Africa, so I came prepared. Most of my Taiwanese colleagues did not bring bathing suits because we started in October. Several people pointed out the difference between the Southern and Northern Hemisphere, but to the Taiwanese, October is not bathing suit season. I am often baffled by their insistence on dressing for the season rather than the weather. If it is 30 degrees and humid in July, they wear t-shirts and sandals. If it is 30 degrees and humid in December, they wear coats and boots. I thought that being in a different country at a much lower latitude would change that. I was wrong. Almost everyone dressed for Taiwan October, not South Africa October.
<br><br>
We arrived in Durban at the tail end of a storm. You could tell it had been raining for a while, though it took a break before our plane landed. The next few days had scattered thunderstorms and the threat of rain around the corner. Then we woke up to sunny and warm almost every other day. There was one full rainy day in Durban and one day where it rained off and on. Otherwise, it was spring sun and clouds. Every night was colder than a Taiwan winter, but none of the days were nearly as hot. Even on the hottest days, which were always below 30 degrees, there was usually a nice breeze coming from the ocean.
<br><br>
Our apartment did not have a swimming pool, but the house next door did. I mentioned something about how much I like to swim to Caroline during a random conversation and the next day she told me we could use the swimming pool next door. I have to assume they had some kind of previous arrangement with their neighbors to let tenants use it. It seems almost impossible that we were let into a stranger's pool just because I happened to mention it in passing. Regardless of whatever went on behind the scenes, none of my roommates brought bathing suits. That meant I got the swimming pool to myself. The owners of the house with the pool were much older. I got the impression they had not used it in years. Eventually, my roommates wised up and bought bathing suits, even though it was almost November. One afternoon, some of Betty's grandchildren joined us. It did not seem like their first time in that pool. Though Betty never donned a bathing suit, she kept an eye on those children like a meerkat. I wondered what it must have been like for her to watch a white woman, a few Chinese women, and her black grandchildren all swimming in the same water together, and then to know that it would never be an issue for the children.
<br><br>
Johannesburg is much bigger than Durban and probably has more to see and do. I preferred Durban for a few reasons. Our apartment was in a quiet residential neighborhood instead of in the middle of a shopping mall. The people we worked with in both cities were friendly, but the people of Durban were less big city uptight and more small town relaxed. Durban is on the Indian Ocean and has several beautiful beaches. Johannesburg is nowhere near a large body of water. We spent twice as much time in Durban, so I had more opportunity to wander around and explore on my own without any tour guides. I usually wake up before sunrise at home. After adjusting to the time difference in Johannesburg, I did the same most days in Durban. Since Durban is on the east coast, the beaches are an excellent place to watch the sun rise over the Indian Ocean. Simply walking down the Durban promenade was a better day than any of the scheduled tourist stops in Johannesburg.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJdzI7nbwQ-PwYFVqOG1n0guv4G4pFvsRzV-FW91gm9YnGW-6M-8cAa0W2GQVYJHEWbCVIRPt7LGwWbZWh4I2m0gsM-kiw6yTaRUMcni8ZRcuAoEBgCI69Yigfu0XyRx0YWRFkB5H6gjkMuWrb4snlvhZXGKvAVd8uW_-TYBxkzjj_maDUHPJsov5/s1920/durban_liesel_muhl.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1282" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJdzI7nbwQ-PwYFVqOG1n0guv4G4pFvsRzV-FW91gm9YnGW-6M-8cAa0W2GQVYJHEWbCVIRPt7LGwWbZWh4I2m0gsM-kiw6yTaRUMcni8ZRcuAoEBgCI69Yigfu0XyRx0YWRFkB5H6gjkMuWrb4snlvhZXGKvAVd8uW_-TYBxkzjj_maDUHPJsov5/s320/durban_liesel_muhl.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Photograph by Liesel Muhl</center>Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-12997015288487189322022-11-01T14:14:00.002+08:002023-01-28T16:19:06.475+08:00African Tour:PretoriaPretoria is right next to Johannesburg, so there were no flights or sitting around airports all day. The charter bus took less than an hour. We only did two shows, so there was no hotel. We left our Johannesburg hotel in the morning, drove to Pretoria, had a quick rehearsal, did the first show, took a break, did the second show, and took the bus back to the hotel.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnMGMy8aEJ1ZlmI34OKtezVkHXAL2uMogG_5QLzd1R83d74aSr5gyLhvpLburGvy_eTF8do9HgKOboKWiAGbIv6YXfbtqLzs4a_Psa_-NIm_3Yne5QthTV72MtaftBBx5wMn8WiCjuuqodruVvLvcsPqsWiJsXHMDfCyseeNXaO0VDhX8Ev7nA4Na/s1920/state%20theatre.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnMGMy8aEJ1ZlmI34OKtezVkHXAL2uMogG_5QLzd1R83d74aSr5gyLhvpLburGvy_eTF8do9HgKOboKWiAGbIv6YXfbtqLzs4a_Psa_-NIm_3Yne5QthTV72MtaftBBx5wMn8WiCjuuqodruVvLvcsPqsWiJsXHMDfCyseeNXaO0VDhX8Ev7nA4Na/s320/state%20theatre.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>State Theatre</center>
<br>
Our very temporary home base in Pretoria was the State Theatre, billed as the largest theater in Africa. It did not seem all that big to us, but we quickly found more than a few places that claimed to be the largest of their kind on the entire continent. My impression was that it is similar to every Ray's in New York that claims to be the original. The theater had a decent stage and sound system, and more importantly, ample restrooms backstage, so it worked for us.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT41L6aWw1wbx9iq_iWnqIgyJVWFEqQInMkTRB_voE4uRnbdGK1AKYNT9Y1eAlT1JYLqjHxj-7PWeRbacK3oovyl3qqcX4YV466Cpg1NkGX3Db3EfBIhTYDYUyz0PQihGZ4jiHSeyd8QEIfSF9-eIyg1OVPxXyXvVp_aHIA8wbyMdYq6X8ibptu3ap/s1512/union%20building.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT41L6aWw1wbx9iq_iWnqIgyJVWFEqQInMkTRB_voE4uRnbdGK1AKYNT9Y1eAlT1JYLqjHxj-7PWeRbacK3oovyl3qqcX4YV466Cpg1NkGX3Db3EfBIhTYDYUyz0PQihGZ4jiHSeyd8QEIfSF9-eIyg1OVPxXyXvVp_aHIA8wbyMdYq6X8ibptu3ap/s320/union%20building.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Union Building</center>
<br>
With limited time between shows, we never strayed far from the central business district. We did some eating, too much shopping, and went to the Union Building Gardens, a hillside park outside the president's house. You cannot actually go inside the Union Buildings because it is the president's house. The park is nice, and since it sits on one of the tallest hills in the city, there was a nice breeze rolling downhill. That is always a good thing between shows.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGkKQeJtNX0VkKSsXKLrtilc3bLFjzqOTrdXi32kjZYqlQ1YUdSrL1-I-9x1-j_8YJg1x9Tm4qCyVpEOitjYAS-_jR17ybLRoISJ2Sb2rHM6U-Zghs4BYq2Q1vU8yjfxSVT_joo5atXRCgvg0v7gXqjk-GU3pVC6jZ8rL5z2BbEI5T3fDN6ZNIe3K/s2048/jacaranda_clayton_majona.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGkKQeJtNX0VkKSsXKLrtilc3bLFjzqOTrdXi32kjZYqlQ1YUdSrL1-I-9x1-j_8YJg1x9Tm4qCyVpEOitjYAS-_jR17ybLRoISJ2Sb2rHM6U-Zghs4BYq2Q1vU8yjfxSVT_joo5atXRCgvg0v7gXqjk-GU3pVC6jZ8rL5z2BbEI5T3fDN6ZNIe3K/s320/jacaranda_clayton_majona.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Photograph by Clayton Majona</center>
<br>
We saw why Pretoria is known as the Jacaranda City. Several streets were lined with Jacaranda trees in full bloom. We also saw why some of the locals see them as a nuisance. When thousands of people walk over the fallen flowers, they create a sticky stain that must be a pain in the ass to clean.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-38861498237071751772022-10-28T01:18:00.008+08:002023-03-01T16:24:22.238+08:00African Tour:Johannesburg<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTLAgUMH6LXG49-FXnmDWSmvFfanyT_Lb4CLYvb0Crsd7hFw9ZC66XGtVIXczYIW20CiPmxrmAEbSi4hHJ9yivJoszJSm_77ME33q6N-yGFW0qhKr-mln-wiE-VfnyWZmmkAuVSaRRLDVScmQLsJZQO8roqWozcACptNV6FtaQbTBDym8G9zqcPEWY/s2212/TPE.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1005" data-original-width="2212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTLAgUMH6LXG49-FXnmDWSmvFfanyT_Lb4CLYvb0Crsd7hFw9ZC66XGtVIXczYIW20CiPmxrmAEbSi4hHJ9yivJoszJSm_77ME33q6N-yGFW0qhKr-mln-wiE-VfnyWZmmkAuVSaRRLDVScmQLsJZQO8roqWozcACptNV6FtaQbTBDym8G9zqcPEWY/s320/TPE.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Taoyuan International Airport
<br>Taipei, Taiwan</center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwyRmaQznm9yo2rK1tw9NxMnlIOgzhsBCjREuk7lxjBWFr5HQCixCMZa9i9vGulLBMnIGAo67qd_887ZROgPqmlzNdX2zJ3vipM5wh1KVtVnmSNdxsGGsMniCHp7WOciaJbUfEI63PlN3w5Ih4opxGIqPRm4ewUGzMJfd9x6a8WpvdWZziFSCGDNa/s1600/BKK.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwyRmaQznm9yo2rK1tw9NxMnlIOgzhsBCjREuk7lxjBWFr5HQCixCMZa9i9vGulLBMnIGAo67qd_887ZROgPqmlzNdX2zJ3vipM5wh1KVtVnmSNdxsGGsMniCHp7WOciaJbUfEI63PlN3w5Ih4opxGIqPRm4ewUGzMJfd9x6a8WpvdWZziFSCGDNa/s320/BKK.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Suvarnabhumi Airport
<br>Bangkok, Thailand</center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Mv4t67TT14NYkkxvO5WdPgakD-EtCTWrun1UWlQAV59xvWxa19KrvYnBEDuc4Gb2DK58Zk0C1_b6ETlM90y0Om1IKkP1eBQq3p2XtiQn4PchTxJcXaRZx2GJhHJa5s6Ju4eVar7h9iv1zKJsc7yeV0ICFZ4PXQlH6BBMWY7xMVTz3-iS1N1UK_yj/s1280/DOH.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Mv4t67TT14NYkkxvO5WdPgakD-EtCTWrun1UWlQAV59xvWxa19KrvYnBEDuc4Gb2DK58Zk0C1_b6ETlM90y0Om1IKkP1eBQq3p2XtiQn4PchTxJcXaRZx2GJhHJa5s6Ju4eVar7h9iv1zKJsc7yeV0ICFZ4PXQlH6BBMWY7xMVTz3-iS1N1UK_yj/s320/DOH.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Hamad International Airport
<br>Doha, Qatar</center>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7X4QQGWUX-7hEx4Q7GNUaUkGWAl4QBCVIibmnwZobqW_86-khZdnb1WC4Nn-Q_UOmsjYpTV4ugd7DRshSQ7cPLJg5D5BcGI-T9aoHdfrnpWqq1b80y62I4J0zSh5PjMfdJAo7sdKvcNaWSrAbMsGT9OJSMGM6jrjQsrQGZz_tAbMgvftKsEj4i45/s1298/JNB.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="1298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7X4QQGWUX-7hEx4Q7GNUaUkGWAl4QBCVIibmnwZobqW_86-khZdnb1WC4Nn-Q_UOmsjYpTV4ugd7DRshSQ7cPLJg5D5BcGI-T9aoHdfrnpWqq1b80y62I4J0zSh5PjMfdJAo7sdKvcNaWSrAbMsGT9OJSMGM6jrjQsrQGZz_tAbMgvftKsEj4i45/s320/JNB.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>OR Tambo International Airport
<br>Johannesburg, South Africa</center>
<br><br>
Flying from Taiwan to South Africa is pretty simple. We took Thai Airways from Taipei to Bangkok, then Qatar Airways from Bangkok to Doha and a separate flight from Doha to Johannesburg. It was supposed to take 24 hours.
<br><br>
Our first delay was in Bangkok. We spent nine hours at Suvarnabhumi Airport. They never told us why. As other passengers were put onto other flights, we waited. We were a larger group, so it was probably more difficult to find something for us. I am not normally a fan of waiting in airports for nine hours, but something interesting came out of it. Our original Bangkok to Doha flight was supposed to be on a Boeing 777, which I have flown on plenty of times. Our new flight was on an Airbus A380, which I had never flown before. The A380 is that double decker plane that was supposed to revolutionize air travel and replace the 747. Except it never did. Airbus built fewer than 300 planes in 18 years, compared to more than 1,500 planes in 50 years for the 747. Airbus lost money on the A380. Boeing made a fortune on the 747.
<br><br>
We finally left Bangkok at three in the morning. Because of time zones and that whole spinning of the Earth thing, our seven hour flight landed just before six in the morning. Hamad International Airport in Doha seems to be pretty popular. It wins awards from organizations that hand out awards to airports. The first time I went to Hamad International Airport was on my way to Barcelona. That flight was also delayed, so I spent ten hours in the award-winning airport in the middle of the night when all of the things that won the awards were closed.
<br><br>
This time, we spent almost 15 hours at the airport, starting at six in the morning when everything was closed. The advantage to being in a larger group was that the airline put us up in one of the airport hotels. The last thing they wanted was for any of us to leave the airport, not that we had any visas for Qatar. I was the only one in our group with a passport that could get me out of the airport without any extra paperwork. Since I only had 15 hours, and I am not wild about spending money in a country where being gay is a capital offense, I thought it best to stay with my group and take a break in that free hotel.
<br><br>
After dinner, we took an eight and a half hour flight to Johannesburg on a Boeing 777. Our 24 hour trip from Taipei took 44 hours.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMJEbiqU0CuugnQa1NClXwi144bLEoIpVijMdFWPD_ipnbTX7hNZuyFdvOdvRc8UikmhKBarVQ1ZRg74zdytVrTj8gY-PJGKGtq27j4qr1k6Zi_X59JFKsQiHEBdCgBKXDZ0ZStJgMYUckEeVne3AD35g6Ex4pWRcBg_cOW-6Vj5f0S_KKmB6xkNH/s1486/Melrose%20Arch.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMJEbiqU0CuugnQa1NClXwi144bLEoIpVijMdFWPD_ipnbTX7hNZuyFdvOdvRc8UikmhKBarVQ1ZRg74zdytVrTj8gY-PJGKGtq27j4qr1k6Zi_X59JFKsQiHEBdCgBKXDZ0ZStJgMYUckEeVne3AD35g6Ex4pWRcBg_cOW-6Vj5f0S_KKmB6xkNH/s320/Melrose%20Arch.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Melrose Arch</center>
<br>
We arrived in Johannesburg at four in the morning and were at our hotel before six. Another good thing about being in a larger group was that we could check into the hotel as soon as we got there. Solo travelers usually have to wait until the normal check in time, which is nowhere close to six in the morning. The Johannesburg Marriott Hotel Melrose Arch was a standard business hotel just like every Marriott I have ever seen anywhere in the world. For some reason, I assumed all of our hotels on this trip would be similar. They were not.
<br><br>
Melrose is a more upscale neighborhood of Johannesburg. The Melrose Arch is a new office/retail development that looks absolutely nothing like most of the city. It is how business leaders want Johannesburg to look and how community leaders know Johannesburg will never look. I do not and should not have a dog in this race, but if I had a vote, I would say the city should try to keep its traditional feel and not look like a pedestrian shopping mall. The entire Melrose Arch area reminded me of the outdoor pedestrian part of the Southpoint Mall in Durham, though only in appearance. Johannesburg feels nothing like North Carolina.
<br><br>
One of the first things I noticed about the Melrose Arch was the overt security presence. One thing we had been warned about before leaving Taiwan was the high crime rates in South Africa, especially Johannesburg. From what I could tell, it was all private security. That did nothing to make me feel safe. I know nothing about South African police training, but anywhere else I have ever been, private security companies do not generally hire the best of the best. In Jerusalem's Old City, you sometimes see armed soldiers. If you want safety, they are the way to go. Their training is some of the best in the world. Any job that pays the bills is something to be proud of, but mall cops are not going to take a bullet for you.
<br><br>
Not that we ever needed anything that extreme. Johannesburg was like New York or Los Angeles. There are some neighborhoods you might want to avoid at night and some you should probably stay out of altogether. Most of the city is perfectly safe for anyone not walking down the street waving large wads of cash. To the Taiwanese, none of that made any sense. You can walk any street in Taiwan at any time with the Hope Diamond in your gold crown and no one will look at you twice. Unless you are a foreigner. Then they will stare at you all day, without any violent intent. I never noticed anyone staring at us in South Africa. Then again, Johannesburg has the largest Chinese population in all of Africa, and people who look like me are nothing special.
<br><br>
We were two to a room in the hotel, which was not a problem at all since we spent most of our time either at work or visiting some tourist trap. I can barely remember what the room looked like. There was a lot of gray and beige. I suppose those are the fashionable colors right now. By South Africans standards, it was exceptionally dull and lacked the vibrant colors we saw all over the country.
<br><br>
The biggest disadvantage to traveling with a large group of Taiwanese is that they love guided tours. The larger the group, the better. When I go somewhere new, I want to wander around and get a little lost. The things I have accidentally stumbled across are far more interesting than anything some stranger booked in advance. When Taiwanese go somewhere, they want to shop, see the most popular sights in the travel guides, and eat at mostly Chinese restaurants that have been approved by previous Taiwanese tourists.
<br><br>
Since Johannesburg was our first stop on this African Tour, and I am a supervisor of sorts, I chose to stay with the group more than I wanted. In between rehearsals, shows, and all the driving back and forth, we piled into a charter bus when we had some time off and saw tiny slivers of Johannesburg that taught us almost nothing about the culture or its people.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuczGrLpD8ZxcFyFRzhM5tf6eRA6WFbsfHcSiDzjZ4pr-EyloRUOKYvtScyYpArqKeIXBZJwhAYy02b0zK6j1CzRyE59zswhF4Jvn38-t0LRWwocSz5_4tfFKgqxgfl3Di4PHOEd3lExtQPm5VX-Hwl8lXaQPkxl5KbX2sY-UBd8pITPXOQfIKWSfP/s2048/Walter%20Sisulu%20Botanical%20Gardens.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuczGrLpD8ZxcFyFRzhM5tf6eRA6WFbsfHcSiDzjZ4pr-EyloRUOKYvtScyYpArqKeIXBZJwhAYy02b0zK6j1CzRyE59zswhF4Jvn38-t0LRWwocSz5_4tfFKgqxgfl3Di4PHOEd3lExtQPm5VX-Hwl8lXaQPkxl5KbX2sY-UBd8pITPXOQfIKWSfP/s320/Walter%20Sisulu%20Botanical%20Gardens.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Walter Sisulu Botanical Gardens</center>
<br>
We went to the Walter Sisulu Botanical Gardens, which looked more like a park than a botanical garden. Apparently, they used to have a nursery, but it closed a few years ago. Its biggest selling point is a small waterfall that flows from a hill where some eagles live. I never saw any eagles, but we were in South Africa. Plenty of animals were right around the corner.
<br><br>
We went to the Old Kromdraai Gold Mine, one of the mines during South Africa's gold rush that put Johannesburg on the map. They still call Johannesburg the City of Gold, but only on brochures. No one actually called it that in person. While the history is important to South Africans, no one in our group was especially impressed by rusty old mine carts and the dirt entrance of a tunnel.
<br><br>
We took a walking tour of Sophiatown, a cultural and artistic haven at the beginning of the 20th century, much like Montmartre in Paris or Dashijie in Shanghai. At the time, artists of all races and backgrounds could mingle, drink too much, and discuss all the vast intricacies of life. Unfortunately, most of the original buildings were bulldozed when it became a white neighborhood and the black population was violently relocated to the Soweto township.
<br><br>
One of the better guided tours was the Alexandra bicycle tour. We rode bicycles around the Alexandra township, which is one of the poorest neighborhoods in Johannesburg and borders Sandton, one of the richest. There was a bit of a history lesson, but our guide mostly ignored the poverty around us and the fact that what we paid to ride bicycles could have bought books for a few families.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYXVxk54TaAKjiU9d1z6_S4SK29nMt-pABgxDo1Hdr8xxs-_1GwNMgk2QLdPa_MAVqUtDS1xoAFToDzQpP-UKngyQBGgxfBPckLyEN5x24FVf_oeeHMGFKdXf10n0uepEBW1PJyvEX-KpahSHQKLHgM5HBNjnqb1Pb47wkZ7XaHeukFmaU4jWzVBP/s1100/Soweto.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="734" data-original-width="1100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYXVxk54TaAKjiU9d1z6_S4SK29nMt-pABgxDo1Hdr8xxs-_1GwNMgk2QLdPa_MAVqUtDS1xoAFToDzQpP-UKngyQBGgxfBPckLyEN5x24FVf_oeeHMGFKdXf10n0uepEBW1PJyvEX-KpahSHQKLHgM5HBNjnqb1Pb47wkZ7XaHeukFmaU4jWzVBP/s320/Soweto.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Soweto</center>
<br>
The best and worst guided tour we took in Johannesburg was in Soweto. With a population of over one million people in two hundred square kilometers, it is by far the largest township in South Africa. The tour covered a small area while the tour guide tried to cram a lot of history into a short presentation. Most of my Taiwanese colleagues were completely unaware of South Africa's history. Apartheid was never something they studied in school, but it was a word they heard a lot in South Africa.
<br><br>
Our tour guide told us that Soweto was essentially a ghetto for black people, many of whom were evicted from their homes and forced to live in the township. They could only legally leave when going to work in the mines or other parts of Johannesburg. Someone in our group asked how the white people could control the black population that outnumbered them six to one. The convoluted answer was a long history of colonization and oppression by my ancestors. By the time Apartheid was the law of the land, the black majority was used to being treated like criminals. As the only white person on the bus, I did what my people have always done. I oversimplified a complicated situation for my Taiwanese colleagues and told them the whites had all the money.
<br><br>
As the only person on our tour group who knew anything about the history of South Africa, albeit not nearly enough, I was not at all surprised by anything our tour guide told us in Soweto. What surprised me were the living conditions. I expected a Hooverville of tin shacks with dirt floors, which do indeed exist. I thought Soweto would look more like Alexandra. But there were also plenty of paved roads, wood framed houses with tile roofs, lots of garages for all the cars, and ample electricity and indoor plumbing. At least in the daytime. Nelson Mandela's house is a small but sturdy brick and mortar building.
<br><br>
When I saw a tour group of white people strolling through the township, I wondered if their tour guide was showing them the real Soweto or the tourist version we were seeing. I never felt guilty while I was with Taiwanese people who had nothing to do with Apartheid. Had they lived in South Africa at the time, they would have been classified as Coloured, which sounds terrible where I come from and was even worse in 20th century South Africa. I could not help but look disapprovingly at the white tourists who were treating this home to a million people as some kind of tourist attraction, even though I was doing the same thing. My internal defense was that I never wanted to go there. I wanted to explore Johannesburg's vibrant present, not learn even more about its appalling past. When I go to Hiroshima, I visit the Peace Park, but I spend most of my time in the mix of near future and distant past.
<br><br>
In Johannesburg's present, we ate a great deal of food. That is unavoidable if you travel with a large group of Taiwanese. If they love anything more than shopping during their travels, it is easting. The food in South Africa was something I was not looking forward to at all. Most of the time, in my daily life, I can ignore the fact that I have no sense of smell and cannot taste flavors. When I go somewhere I have never been, especially somewhere as famous for its cuisine as South Africa, that reality hits me in the face at every meal. Had I been able to taste anything, I probably would have eaten like a Taiwanese.
<br><br>
Most of my colleagues wanted to try the local Chinese food. There was a basic, all over the place “Chinese” restaurant near the hotel. None of their dishes were familiar and no one was impressed. It never stood a chance anyway because it was not in the travel guides. Not the most adventurous people in the world, my traveling companions were really only interested in eating pre-approved food.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9f2Mr3pvq399ERUiv0o8eVbfd6F3Ls52fZky91aK-IV_ApOVz_mpe512obYZBdz1CrYOpYIiCt8SR2Lk-Gh3M5-j-t6iENtBmP_Pzpd8jYVilF8qdQLk0FdrbSugosgyrRZU_Qh1Bj8cK2M3YvoX3NK6tkMwvVkew6ndg_wcTQ_eZavL6hYrkBNcS/s1200/oriental%20plaza.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9f2Mr3pvq399ERUiv0o8eVbfd6F3Ls52fZky91aK-IV_ApOVz_mpe512obYZBdz1CrYOpYIiCt8SR2Lk-Gh3M5-j-t6iENtBmP_Pzpd8jYVilF8qdQLk0FdrbSugosgyrRZU_Qh1Bj8cK2M3YvoX3NK6tkMwvVkew6ndg_wcTQ_eZavL6hYrkBNcS/s320/oriental%20plaza.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Oriental Plaza</center>
<br>
Luckily for them, not so much for me, Johannesburg has more than a few shopping malls. They reminded me of every shopping mall everywhere in the world, except for the metal detectors at the door and private security guards checking bags before anyone could get in. The one mall I might remember in years to come was the Oriental Plaza, just down the M1 from our hotel. I thought the name was interesting because where I come from, it would be seen as insulting to the Chinese. The Chinese shoppers I was with could not have cared less. They were there for deals. Unlike most malls, shoppers could haggle on prices at the Oriental Plaza. Taiwanese love to haggle, even though prices are set at all malls in Taiwan. As for a taste of the Orient, nothing in the mall reminded anyone of home. They were mostly disappointed that it was run down and looked like it had seen better days.
<br><br>
Further east is China Town, several blocks of restaurants and shops that did not look the least bit Chinese. But there were Chinese signs all over the place, which I found strangely comforting, and most of the shops were owned and operated by Chinese immigrants. My colleagues loved it because they could speak to people in their language and eat food that was far more authentic than any of the upscale “Chinese” restaurants in town.
<br><br>
There were plenty of extremes in Johannesburg. We went to the poorest neighborhoods and some of the richest. We drove past car dealerships selling Maseratis and young men standing on the side of the road selling cell phone cases and plastic toys. There are roadside stalls selling fruit in Taiwan, but usually in rural areas. The most you will see in the city is someone selling flowers. In Johannesburg, larger than any city in Taiwan, you can buy anything at a stop light. Which are called robots, for some reason.
<br><br>
We also did some work here and there, but Johannesburg was more about adjusting and adapting. The work was nothing new. The audiences were, and they seemed to enjoy a look into a culture very different from theirs. Johannesburg will always be my gateway into Africa, which is probably not the best position to be in. I vividly remember my first visit to Tokyo, but the Ginza was sensory overload. There was too much to take in all at once. I get the feeling Johannesburg will feel the same way a few years down the road.
<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibUYwk9lCsfCNMfSNSzYqTpptK2nUlylDwpPF2VJQObp3p_Qr9fYgpPw84by7Uk2Lz37TUWD8-P0evj7DcKrROTV80ycW5u8dTr-Q4w0HNyKxJjAOTITnV54Zl9v4rP94sM1bAEbelA2NI2kOiBZ7XkNkhE8_rIyeIQXuqmyi_NEQZ5BV20qkbMrL/s1280/johannesburg.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="862" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibUYwk9lCsfCNMfSNSzYqTpptK2nUlylDwpPF2VJQObp3p_Qr9fYgpPw84by7Uk2Lz37TUWD8-P0evj7DcKrROTV80ycW5u8dTr-Q4w0HNyKxJjAOTITnV54Zl9v4rP94sM1bAEbelA2NI2kOiBZ7XkNkhE8_rIyeIQXuqmyi_NEQZ5BV20qkbMrL/s320/johannesburg.jpg"/></a></div>
<center>Johannesburg</center>
<br><br>
<hr>
I took thousands of photographs in South Africa. It is going to take a while to sort through them all. But since I will be describing some photogenic places, it feels wrong to not show any pictures. I will use placeholder photographs until I can replace them with my own, and give credit to the photographers when I know who they are.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-67387441590801170702022-10-14T08:28:00.001+08:002023-03-10T14:57:12.578+08:00African TourMy dance company is going on tour in Africa. That is something I never really expected to say, but always wanted to. That is also an incredibly vague thing to say, like “Let's eat Asian food”. Africa is an enormous continent with at least 54 countries, thousands of different cultures, more than one thousand languages, and hundreds of religions. I will see almost none of it. We are scheduled to perform in Johannesburg, Pretoria, Durban, Cape Town, Nairobi, Mombasa, and Dar es Salaam. Three countries out of 54, in the far east and deep south. Calling it an African tour sounds disingenuous, like when rock stars go on a “world tour” to the United States, a few cities in Western Europe, and Tokyo.
<br><br>
The people planning this tour have been planning it for years. It would have happened earlier if not for a plague that killed some travel plans in North America and Europe. Fortunately, this was the one plague that was relatively kind to Africa. The total deaths in Kenya are about the same as Idaho. It barely touched Tanzania at all.
<br><br>
We leave on Tuesday. Despite how much I enjoy going to other places, especially places I have never been, and despite how much I have wanted to see bits of Africa for a long time, I am not looking forward to Tuesday. We have a four hour flight from Taipei to Bangkok, which is not so bad. But then we get on a different airline and fly Bangkok to Doha for seven hours. Extra airlines means extra people handling your luggage. The more it changes hands, the more likely it will get lost. We are bringing costumes, sets, and props. Losing those would ruin the entire trip. From Doha, we have an eight and a half hour flight to Johannesburg. Getting from here to there should take a little over 24 hours. After a night off, we get to work.
<br><br>
The tour ends in Dar es Salaam, but we have to fly back to Nairobi, from which we will fly five and a half hours to Doha, six and a half hours to Bangkok, and three and a half hours to Taipei. It is practically the same route back, except we arrive on the continent in Johannesburg and depart from Nairobi. Despite all the different airports in different countries, my only real concern is that I have an Israeli work visa in my passport and I have to fly through Qatar. They are not exactly best friends, though Qatar has less of a death to Israel stance than some of its neighbors.
<br><br>
According to the schedule, we will have some free time in Cape Town. I need to figure out if there is enough time to visit Kruger National Park. It is on the opposite side of the country from Cape Town, but it is one of the top places on my list. We will not have nearly as much free time in Johannesburg or Durban, which are much closer. Dar es Salaam is right next to Zanzibar, which I would love to go to, but there is probably not enough time. The trickiest part will be trying to extend my stay and hitting a national park or two in Kenya while everyone else flies home. If at all possible, I would really like to see the Serengeti in Tanzania, which is not unrealistically far from Nairobi. Cape Town to Kruger is more of a pipe dream than Nairobi to the Serengeti.
<br><br>
Whatever happens, I predict this will be an exceptional trip. We are cramming far too many places into far too short a time, so who knows how much I will really learn about anything, but it should be a unique experience. If nothing else, I should discover which places I need to go back to off the clock.Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4775879838211895835.post-65688388674771074172022-09-17T08:36:00.001+08:002022-09-17T10:38:31.080+08:00Junior Assistant Adjunct Professor HaileyI just started a new job. It is part time and will never be full time, at least as long as my career holds out. You never know. A few years ago, my dancing career took a nosedive and I wondered what would happen. I had pretty much nothing to fall back on. I can always pick up gigs as a musician, but that never paid the bills. I used to do a lot of musical theater when I was younger. I doubt that pays as much today as it used to. And there is little to no demand for a coloratura mezzo-soprano who knows all the biggest show tunes around here. It kind of amazes me that I live in a time and place where dancers easily earn more than musicians.
<br><br>
I have been very slowly building up my academic CV. I am not at all qualified to be a professor anywhere in the world, but I have some experience as a substitute teacher of sorts at two or three different universities. When one of them offered me a low level, part time gig, I jumped at it.
<br><br>
My roommate and sister from another mister, Lily, is working on a master's degree at Wenzao Ursuline University of Languages. Through her, I met a professor who taught a dialectology class, among others. After substituting for her a few times, and more importantly, after she wanted to drop the class, I threw my hat in the ring. I have no doubt there were other, more qualified applicants for the position. What I had on my side was the recommendation of a tenured professor and the approval of several students. That those students had already taken the class and would no longer be my students seems to be irrelevant. One of the worst things about Wenzao, in my opinion, is that they put entirely too much stock into what their students want. That helped me get the job, so maybe I should like it, but it seems to me that the students should never be in charge of any school. They are the customers who pay to keep the lights on, but keeping them happy has to be one of the slipperiest of slopes. And the customer is rarely right.
<br><br>
As of August, I am a lecturer for the Department of Translation and Interpreting, College of International Culture, Education, and Foreign Affairs. That looks great on my CV, but it is a part time job and I only teach one class. Next semester, I will only teach one class. Next year, who knows. I could be invited to go away. Or asked to teach a single class again. In Taiwan, lecturer is about as low as you can get on the ladder and still be allowed to teach a class. In the United States, I might be called an assistant professor, though I am not at all qualified to be an assistant professor here. During my first semester in Minnesota, we used to call all the teachers professor, even if they were graduate students who were little more than teaching assistants.
<br><br>
As of September, students in this dialectology class went from being taught by a full professor to a part time lecturer. I would see that as a serious step down if I were them. This is not a general education class that students take to get an easy A. Almost everyone in the class needs it for their major, though I was surprised by how many different majors are involved. No one has complained about their new teacher, as far as I know. Then again, no grades have been posted yet.
<br><br>
The hardest part about teaching this class, so far, has nothing to do with the actual teaching. Standing in front of a group of mostly young people whose minds are sponges and want to soak up my wisdom, or at least the wisdom of the textbook, is easy. I like having a captive audience. It is all the paperwork that sucks any inch of glamor out of the job. Substituting for someone else is much easier. They did all the paperwork. All I had to do was teach the class.
<br><br>
When my sister used to teach at a cram school in Hong Kong, it took her maybe five or ten minutes to write up her lesson plans. At Wenzao, I spent about a month preparing, as well as a few extra hours the night before each class. The big difference between our experiences, other than one was after school tutoring for children and one is a university class, is that her school pretty much left her to her own devices. My school wants to know every move I am going to make, and they are watching me closely. I assume that if I do not screw this up, they might relax a little next semester. Or they might never really trust me. I am a foreigner who works part time. You never know.
Haileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17562509502484240869noreply@blogger.com0