Baby steps towards a memoir.

Today is a beautiful day. Despite having absolutely no sleep last night, the day is fresh and the sun reflects brightly on the valley’s of snow. I snuck out this morning eager to take the hour long drive to visit my Dad. He has donated a small, bluetooth keyboard (you know, the aluminum Apple keyboard) towards my attempt to live with only an iPad and no laptop. I may or may not be the first person in the world to attempt to write an entire book within Google Docs. I thought it worth the effort to help get out of the house more where I can focus on what it is I want to be doing with my time. Now if only I had a laser printer for editing so many past journals. I am really a hands on sort of person. Laser donations much obliged, please?

Filed under: Uncategorized

Liberal Arts at Sundance.

Despite having had full credentials during previous years of Sundance, JM and I weren’t entirely sure if we would be in town at the end of January 2012 having not yet planned our trip to Africa (at least the dates) and being in the midst of closing on the condo as well as possible travels to meet with potential VCs for JM’s business.  There are so many things going on right now and all of them are great moments in life, albeit stressful.  We did, however, buy some individual tickets on the 17th when those last minute individual tickets go on sale with Sundance as well as peruse craiglist for those special extras.  One of those craigslist specials was the premiere of Liberal Arts at Eccles Theater – written, produced, directed, and acted by Josh Radnor.

Liberal Arts (IFC Films) – Josh Radnor’s follow up to happythankyoumoreplease, another Sundance pick, features Radnor as a thirty-something man who returns to his college campus and is intrigued by both his former professor (Alison Janney) and a young coed (Elizabeth Olsen). IFC picked up Liberal Arts and plans on releasing it later in 2011. (Movieline.com, 2012 - http://www.movieline.com/2012/01/26/sundance-liberal-arts-robot-and-frank-vhs-and-the-pact-sell/).

The movie was laughable.  To one woman it was being added to her collection of movies such as “The Graduate.”  From an acting and writing point of view, I can see where she was coming from although The Graduate is far more recognizable by Simon & Garfunkel’s great soundtrack over time than it is by just the story itself.  Similar idea, but not exactly apples and apples.

My years of college are jaded with a sense of longing and missing “the way it use to be” much like the main character, Jesse, who is played by Radnor himself.  Similarly, I was attending the Liberal Arts college alongside some of my very best friends – those that became eternally iconic friends through meeting those first few years of school (i.e. Steele, Natalie, etc.) and those that came later, my friends from High School (like Jen).  The English and Philosophy departments were side by side.  Majors were often switched back and forth between the two.  Arguing literature can grow tiring when there are no absolutes so many convert to the Philosophy department where things seem far more black and white, to some.

I enjoyed them both.  I took my first Ethics class online, with 200 others and was the ONLY person in the entire Utah County laden class to take unpopular views.  I could have taken it at the campus and been one of many “college liberal hippies” with my ideals, but I stood against the masses online with the world of happy valley stay at home mom’s.  I don’t regret the experience.  I’d do it again.

My first English class, English 1010 with Deb Thornton set the path for the rest of my college career.  She had us writing a new paper every week which seemed impossible to the Freshman mind.  She forced me, of all people, to constantly read in front of the class which became the thorn in my side as I grew competitive with another boy in this same English class, who struck me as overindulgent since the first day.  Instead, with an invitation to join her second class (An Introduction to Literature), I found myself in his company again – leading the class.  We became the best of friends, practical roommates, almost inseparable and it was my college romance despite years of dodging and never making a move.  Together our best sidekick would be Natalie.  Just like the movie says, it is the only time of your life that you can tell someone you are a poet and be taken seriously for it.  This was the one time in my life where I would live in one place for a consistent 2 years (hasn’t happened since believe it or not) and I would freely indulge in the darkest side of me like any other artist – I let it all go for the sake of my art.  Whiskey and vodka were constantly stocked in the kitchen cabinets.  We drank out of mugs with cigarettes placed strategically behind our ear and pens in hand.  We read out loud.  We wrote together, line by line.  He played the guitar.  Life was simple.  I turned in highly controversial homework – marked superb by one professor and demeaning by another.  I wrote with bitter honesty, despite the subject matter or assignment.  Never before and never since have I just let it all go, wherever life may lead.

After seeing the Sundance film and witnessing the premiere’s Q&A, I was taken back to my own Liberal Arts textbooks – the very thing that I miss more than any other time of my college career.  I read Blake.  I read Keats.  I read Plath.  I read with a greater sense of understanding and yet considerably less to say and I found this one, poetic entry that encompasses entirely how I felt as I left that version of myself behind – so lost, so dark, so determined, and wild.

When I have fears that I may cease to be
John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And I think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love; – then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Til love and flame to nothingness do sink. 

Filed under: Daily Life, Writing Life , sundance 2012, liberal arts, liberal arts the movie, josh radnor

The Zim & Zam of Victoria Falls.

The morning of January 10, we are off for a 24 hour jaunt to Zimbabwe.  We are hoping to see Zambia and Botswana as well.  We are already over 20 new Visa stamps in to this trip and there’s more places to go!  Victoria Falls is the 7th wonder of the world and a place that was a must for all of us to visit.  We stayed at the Victoria Falls hotel with no car.  We took a local taxi into town where the heat was so extreme that the power was down.  The local casino had no gamblers.  The gas station was closed.  The banks were shut down, “Due to weather.”

Getting money was a bit interesting.  We first had to walk to the end of town from our hotel where we ran into a handful of locals attempting to sell us anything they could.  One of them called himself Stevie and the other, Christopher Columbus.  Not wanting anything they were attempting to sell, they began asking for things to trade.  Instantly everyone wanted plastic bracelets we had much like the “Live Strong” bracelet.  We had no reason not to trade these, but it was confusing as to why something plastic would be so important to them?  The only reasoning was to have something American and fashionable.  They asked for our shoes, which I gladly would have given them if I had anything else to walk home in.  Last, but not least, they asked for pens or any type of writing utensil.  This struck me as most interesting as I had noticed the increasing sensitivity of each immigration point we had gone through when we would ask to borrow a pen for something.  The entire process made me wonder where exactly they bought their pens.  There aren’t exactly any Office Max type stores in South Africa, let alone the surrounding countries which are significantly more poor.  We had even spent some time in a South African grocery store which didn’t have the “student isle” which is typical in the United States – no pens, no poster board, etc.  What does one do with their life if they cannot write?  Everything is handcrafted.  The things these people make with their hands is amazing, but nothing that I wanted to attempt to stuff in my bag and carry back home with me.

The people are incredibly smart and ambitious.  They will sell or trade you anything.  If you’re English, they know English.  If you’re Spanish, some speak Spanish or Portuguese.  Many people even speak French.  This is all in addition to their native tongue, depending on the villages some of these people came from.  I questioned my own ability simply because I am a spoiled American.  I know no other language fluently.  My struggles have not been pleasant, but they have all been self-imposed by my own choices to be on my own.  Despite my years of couch surfing homelessness, I have never had to stand hours in over 100 degrees of baring down sunlight to make a living.  At the same time, there is nothing spectacular I can do with my hands.  I cannot make a piece of wonderful art.  I cannot take apart anything mechanical and piece it back together with precision.  The idea of how people live, everywhere else, made me feel incredibly guilty and not the least bit “special” like we are made to feel as a privileged American.

Together, the four of us spent the morning of the 11th walking to Zambia which was just a short distance from our hotel.  Exiting Zimbabwe we were caught in an tourism line.  Once through the gate, we had an extremely long walk to the bridge between Zimbabwe and Zambia, where you can still feel the spray from Victoria Falls.  This is the bridge famous for bungee jumping.  Little did we know that just a couple days prior, a girl had bungeed here and the line snapped.  If we had enough time and the strap was anything but around the ankles, I probably would have considered a once in a lifetime opportunity of jumping from the bridge simply because my friend Noah had done it.  And if Noah can do it, I can do it.  But we were in a hurry now.  We had to beat the tourist-trap of people to the immigration office at the Zambia border.  We barely made it there on time, just steps ahead of the bus which roared past us and was unloading as we literally ran into the office.

What was suppose to be a pleasant morning of hiking the Zambia side of Victoria Falls, down into the Falls and back up and wading into the Devils Pool – became a 30 minute jaunt through the Zambia side of Victoria Falls which is still much more glorious than the Zimbabwe side (which is mostly just for viewing, no wading into the river or hikes down the canyon are on the Zim side).  We ran into the park, took a pictures like we were part of a race, and ran back out where we had to take a taxi to the Zim border – going through the exit process at Zam once again and rushing through the process to be let in to the Zimbabwe side.  At this point we had only a few minutes to return to our hotel where they were keeping our luggage and had another taxi waiting for us to go to the airport.

The rest of the day consisted of flying from Zimbabwe back to South Africa, going through customs, – in and out, in and out, in and out – and then catching our final plane home from South Africa back to the United States.  By night time our “pod seats” on our Delta flight would be most welcoming with their full sized blankets and down pillows.  As food was sparse in Zim, we ate anything we could for the remainder of the day – taking one last visit to the airport’s Nando’s.  Soon we would be on layover in Atlanta where we could use their Delta crown room to shower off the adventures of the passing day and get ready for our return home.

For the next week, JM and I woke up at 4:30am, attempting to find a usual sleeping pattern.  It is only now, at the end of January, that we are finally able to “sleep in.”

Victoria Falls - Zimbabwe Side

Rockband Photo: Victoria Falls

Caught on Camera with my "Holy Cow!" moment at the size of Victoria Falls

Don't Jump Over! Zambia side of the Falls

 

Filed under: Traveling , victoria falls, victoria falls hotel, zambia, zimbabwe

Oh Captain, my Cape Town.

Cape Town is a breath of fresh air and a cultural mecca after driving so rapidly through sullen places like Mozambique, wide open ranges like Swaziland, and the rolling vast hills of Lesotho.  After renting another Merc, we drove straight to The One & Only hotel based on a referral from a V&A Waterfront pamphlet I picked up at car rental counter.  This was so tourist of me and yet contributed wildly to our spontaneous nature as The One & Only was not listed on any site we trusted for recommendations.  We went on a whim and the view was instantly breath-taking.  This hotel is beautiful, almost magical.  We were first quoted 8000R-9000R per night for each room and by sheer luck, due to having to have our rooms “released” from a third party holder (probably something like hotels.com), we ended up receiving the room for approximately 3500R which is around $380US per night rather than the $900 previously quoted.  Not only did we take the deal, but we stayed an extra day – January 5th through 9th.  This was the longest we would spend anymore during our short two week span in Southern Africa.  We walked the V&A Waterfront daily.  We fell in love with the One & Only’s Nobu restaurant and their spectacular sushi.  We enjoyed oysters at the breakfast buffet and at the Victoria & Allen Hotel.  Rather than the usual “cocktail” sauce we are used to in the United States, South Africa serves their oysters either raw or with a homemade red onion topping which is sure to spice anything right up!  The experience was unusual and tasteful.

We spent an afternoon at the local craft market.  We bought hot dogs on the street with chutney topping.  We road the Waterfront ferris wheel while I videotaped the boys singing Chicago as we circled round and round.  I am partly convinced that it is due to taping this that karma caused me to have my camera stolen before I could copy the video to our computers. We enjoyed the Aquarium – watching the penguin and shark feedings in wonder.  We drove to the Cape of Good Hope where we witnessed baboons and wild penguin colonies (in Simons Town).  We got gellato in Simons Town and walked through beach side shops.  We enjoyed an evening at the One & Only spa, post sunburns which caused most of our massages (and my very undeserving body scrub) to be more painful than relaxing.  We spent an entire evening scaling the rocks a-top Tabletop Mountain and enjoying a bottle of wine at sunset from the instantly breezy land above the clouds.  We even took a wine tour of Cape Town’s surrounding, famous wine country where we visited three different vineyards.  This made for a very pleasant afternoon enjoying massive gardens, warm weather, and cool shade.

Our own personal waterfront, view from the porch

Simon's Town Penguin Colony

Cape of Good Hope baboons

Cape Point

On top of Table Mountain

 

Filed under: Traveling , cape of good hope, cape town, nobu restaurant, South Africa, southern africa

The finest hotel in Lesotho.

Lesotho is a beautiful place lined by the famous Drakenberg Mountains which can only be entered by precarious 4×4 vehicles daring enough to approach the dirt roads which are said to have remnants of vehicles that have attempted to drive through the one and only pass.  Our concierge at the Hilton in Durban assured us it is worthwhile as there is a pub at the top of the pass in the Drakenberg Mountain chain and it is the highest elevated pub in Africa.  We found this on the internet…

Sani Pass is located in the western end of KwaZulu-Natal province of South Africa on the road between Underberg and Mokhotlong, Lesotho it is a route that connects Kwazulu-Natal and Lesotho. It is a notoriously dangerous road, which requires the use of a 4×4 vehicle. This pass lies between the border controls of both countries and is approximately 9km in length[1] and requires above average driving experience. It has occasional remains of vehicles that did not succeed in navigating its steep gradients and poor traction surfaces, and has a catalogue of frightening stories of failed attempts at ascending the path over the Northern Lesotho mountains.

…not quite reassuring is it?  We posted it online for kicks and giggles.  Our parents did not find it very funny.  I think my family knows my personality well enough to know that I was either completely kidding or there was nothing they could do to stop me – hospitalized or not, they seem to be assured that I will make it out of everything ok.  Either that or they weren’t even listening.

Due to having already spent hours acquiring the Mercedes, we drove clear of the Sani Pass and looked at the Drankenberg mountains from the side view.  Instead, we drove through the Golden Gate National Park towards the capital of Lesotho.  The capital was just an hour or so from our destination, Bloemfontein, South Africa – where we would be taking a flight the next morning to Cape Town.  When we made it to Maseru the sun was close to setting, we still had our Lesotho Visas to obtain and exhaustion was setting in.  Google had suggested the Lesotho Sun Hotel & Casino by no other means than being the only thing on the map that it would navigate to in the entire country so after cruising around various corners of Maseru, finding nothing incredibly interesting other than a laughable Electricity Department that looked like a doghouse.

The Lesotho Sun was indeed the nicest hotel and according to those there it was a “five star hotel… for Lesotho.”  The hotel was perched on the hilltop overlooking all of Maseru.  As the sunset we all settled into our rooms.  I walked onto the deck and noticed the fiery sky.  JM and I chased the sunset with my camera, taking pictures along the way at every opportune chance.  We chose the casino’s Asian restaurant to rid our appetite.  The restaurant was par.  Barely holding on to consciousness, I excused myself to the room and was out for the night.  I woke early, watching the purple dusk overtake the mesas and plateaus that surround the city.  The long stretch of only one road out of the country was calling our name to Bloemfontein.  We would soon be off.

As we approached immigration to obtain our exit stamps we were stopped first by the ladies at immigration, telling us that we did not obtain a visa into the country.  We all claimed that we knew that and we did not ever see a place to obtain such a stamp.  There were no signs and an army officer took all four of our passports, checked them, and waived us on into the country.  Disregarding our excuse, immigrations stamped our exit from Lesotho and told us to drive on through.  When gate control checked our passports however, we had a problem.  They kept our passports and asked us to pull over to the side.  In a strong Southern Africa accent a man dressed in army garb came to our window, speaking quickly, “You have no entry stamp.  What you have done is illegal…”  We explained calmly, but with a slight deerintheheadlights look about us as we did not expect to have such trouble after being waived through before.  We had to explain ourselves several times.  He said again, “Lesotho is it’s own independent country.  You have to get an entry stamp next time.  I will let you go.  But what you have done is illegal.”  We began to offer the possibility of getting a stamp anyway, but he waived us on and we drove off without further suggestion.  We had to get to the airport and we did not want to risk any further delay.  Besides, we had another visit to make at the Thrifty Rental and who knows how long that might take.

"Conversing" with the Lands

Rockband Photo

These flowers are all over Southern Africa

Filed under: Traveling , africa on the road, capital of lesotho, drakenberg mountains, golden gate national park, lesotho, maseru, sani pass, southern africa

“Durban Hymns.”

Two nights and one day in Kruger National Park and we were off to Durban.  It was the one and only time on the trip that I DJed during the car ride.  We were confident now that we could make it anywhere despite the predicted time allotment via Google Maps or any GPS System.  Our route appeared to be much like PCH in California but the amount of greenery that South Africa has to offer blocked our entire view of the Indian Ocean until our arrival.

Our arrival wasn’t easy however.  We woke at Kruger with the morning camp call at 5am and had tea with the camp butler while our guide packed our bags to go back to the main camp to retrieve the Merc and sign our papers saying we’d paid properly and be let out across the Crocodile bridge once more.  From there we’d be on our way and within the hour (minus border crossing) find ourselves at the capitol of Mozambique, Maputo.

There are two things to remember about Mozambique.  One, it is the only place we were that we had to pay someone to guide us through the border patrol which included watching our car so that it wouldn’t be stolen.  A very friendly British fellow who parked next to us very nervously said something (in his own slang) about how they’d rob you here.  They most certainly would.  Every time I’d peek out the window I half way expected to see our car up on blocks or entirely gone.  I imagined it would only take them 20 minutes.  However, we were the only 4 people in the immigration line and it was taking them what seemed most of an hour.  We found out at the end it was because not only did we get a stamp of entry, we got an entire sticker – photo and all.  Be prepared to have an entire page of your passport highjacked by Mozambique.  I wasn’t prepared at all.  I didn’t even smile for the photo and my hair looks like… well, it looks like it’s sweated two nights in Kruger National Park is what it looked like.  It’s beyond the point of humidity where it has a cute natural curl and it’s just flat out stuck to my face making me seem 10 pounds heavier in the cheeks and grossly unhappy in my photo.  It begins…

We paid over $80US per person to jaunt through Maputo on our way to Durban and it was… delightful.  Mozambique is by far the poorest seeming country we visited on our tour of Southern Africa.  Even downtown seemed to make any New York City or sub-Detroit projects look like heaven on Earth.  There was obviously no air conditioning of any kind for these people.  Their clothes hung outside.  There windows were barred.  Just like the townships even the “high rises” were made of cinderblocks and no other insulation.  Luxury seemed to be anything with a window or a roof on it.  Trash resided everywhere.  The entire city had a stench.  There were few places we could go and park safely so we circled many times looking for a place to go for food, a bathroom, and an ATM if we dared.

“I feel sorry for the sucker who valet parks their car in a city like this,” I said.  I actually knew people who would do such a thing and think that these people offering to wash cars and valet park for free were probably the nicest people ever.  Maybe some of them were, but most of them wanted more than just tips.  The only nice building in the place was a local mall with a cinema.  We were able to park and yet the four of us still watched the car like hawks as we took turns in a still disgusting bathroom and grabbed food to go, getting back on the road as quickly as we could.  There was no reasonable ATM.  Mozambique was a bust, but that is ok.  We still had yet another border crossing to go through and another country none the less before we made it to the Four Seasons in Durban.

The next country on the list was Swaziland.  We exited Mozambique straight on into Swaziland which was entirely peaceful, rolling hills of mostly nothing but bad roads.  We drove straight through aside from one stop forced upon us by a hundred ill-placed speed bumps and rumble strips which ended with the local police who looked like they’d received hand me down Army shirts from a United States charity and were enjoying interrogating people with them.  The police asked us to exit the car so they could search it.  Our officer was an overpowering woman who nearly shoved me to the curb insisting multiple times that she needed space.  The more entertaining part is that she did all of this with the attitude of being disgusted at the idea of touching me and I spoke to her with much gratitude and respect.  I thanked her for opening my car door and when she insisted I “go over there by the shade” I said something about how nice that would be and went and stood by the other two officers who were obviously entertained by her power trip.  They finally called her down after she had made fun of Shaun’s accent for saying we were on our way to “Duh-ben” and she left us alone.  Our visas were free and we were on a mission with no sense of stopping anymore.  It was Four Seasons or bust.

Not being able to see the ocean from our drive grew disappointing so the music was all we had to rely on.  I went through the list playing one, two, or three songs from anything I thought kosher for the four of us.  Not all of us like the same things and I definitely have a more broad aspect of musical tastes than most in the car.  Thankfully I had a mid range of what was reasonable “liked.”  Towards the end of the trip and the end of my alphabetical playlist I found myself at the familiar Verve Pipe, Urban Hymns.

When I was preparing for my trip to Disney World 15 years ago my brother warned me that I couldn’t go on a trip with a bunch of 8th graders without something “cool.”  He took me to Sam Goody’s at the mall, armed me with a hand-me-down cassette player (which in hindsight was anything but cool, it’s not as though CD’s had been around for ten years by then) and bought me a handful of tapes.  The gesture was still long remembered since music was becoming the prevalent part of my life from there on after.  As a young, broke college student tapes was the most he could afford and he bought me about half a dozen of them.  The Verve Pipe was one of them – mostly for the song we all remember and can admit to love, Bittersweet Symphony.

I listened to that tape and others on the 12 hour bus ride that met early in the morning at my school.  I remember listening to Urban Hymns when we drove up to Epcot, our first stop on the list.  It was almost immediately thereafter that I ran into my long-time penpal and friend, Tommy Pullen and his group where I then spent the afternoon with the South Africans.  Together we went around the world, disappointed that Epcot only had a small display for Africa and not an actual dedicated spot for anything genuinely African.  We spoke for hours about everything I knew and I questioned things I didn’t know.  I began to learn parts of their language.  The entire experience was more enchanting than Disney itself as it sparked my already long-standing fascination with the country.

I hadn’t remembered that connection with the song and with that album until we were driving into the Durban area and I laughed at the irony of playing it once again.  I don’t think I have played more than that one song off the album since.

We drove straight to the Durban Four Seasons where we had to have a laugh. The Four Seasons was not a proper one and was met with a hot pink neon sign and a turn dial to enter the lobby.  We quickly rerouted to the Durban Hilton, disappointingly off the beach but at least something we could trust.  The sun was setting and dinner was to be had!  Unfortunately Hilton was anything but a good experience – molded carpets, blood on the towels, flooded bathrooms, having to change rooms multiple times, not assigning our rooms correctly, not putting us into the system correctly, etc. etc. etc. We received no compensation for the discomfort.  Again, appetite suppressed, I ate only two or three pieces of my individual pizza at room service and crashed for the night.  Something about going through three countries in one day will do a person in.  We were all down and out.

Next stop, Lesotho.  We had another early morning ahead of us.

Mozambique

Southern Africa Public Transport (no joke)

We thought we'd bring the M3 to Durban

Durban

Marilynn Mon-Durban

Filed under: Traveling , bittersweet symphony, crocodile bridge, durban, kruger national park, South Africa, the verve pipe, tommy pullen, urban hymns

The Merc.

The next morning in Jo’Burg JM and I slept in to the ripe hour of 6am which came as quite the relief. As we lay in bed discussing the possibility of the day, it seemed to be an easy decision that we would be checking out a day early and heading to Kruger National Park in the northeast corner of the country. We had a few things to take care of first. One, we needed to make sure it was what everyone wanted to do; we needed to book accommodations ahead of time since we’d have no Internet or phone in that area of the country, and we’d need to do Shaun the favor of switching from the Nissan to a proper car with cruise control – preferably something German.

After calling nearly every car rental company at the airport JM found a Mercedes with cruise control and navigation at the Thrify. The car would be available at noon. We had to check out by 11. We thought we’d show up early and get the paperwork started so we could be on our way to the park which, according to Google, was nearly 7 hours away and we had to be within the gates by 6:30 in order to be accommodated or we would have to turn around and by sheer luck find someplace outside of the park nearby. Africa isn’t exactly Oklahoma either. There aren’t Motel 6′s in random exits. In fact, there aren’t event random exits. The only unexplained thing is the amount of people that are walking hundreds of miles from any major civilization. Where are they going? How long have they been walking? How the heck do they balance a basket on their head and tie their toddlers to their Dijabouti (pun intended) with only a towel?

Regardless, we hadn’t even experienced these things yet because our “thrifty” car rental took 2 hours for some mild paperwork and a car that was hardly ready. We weren’t the only ones. Every renter in there was there long enough to get an intimate peek into their personal lives. I know quite a lot now about the inlaws and the recently engaged couple who had just come back from diving off the coast of Mozambique and/or quite possibly Durban. The girl was quite tall but about my age. She was still excited from getting engaged that weekend and treating her soon to be mother in law like her best friend. The entire ordeal was sweet. The rest of us, however, were far less enchanted to be stuck for two hours. Jeff stressed the count down now that it was far past 1pm and we had a few short hours to make Crocodile Gate at Kruger.

We finally piled into what South Africans refer to as a “Merc” (the Mercedes), ready to go while we all jokingly egged Shaun on, “All for your damn cruise control…” only to realize the car had no navigation system as promised. 1:15 and we are back in line for another set of paperwork for a separate nav system. Thankfully this time the process was short and we were out before too long only to discover by the time we reached the highway that our newly rented navigation system had entirely no clue where we were going. Junk!!!!

After several minutes of trying we stored the rented system and used our cell phones to nav to crocodile gate pushing 20-40km over the speed limit in certain areas in order to cut enough time off of the precious time we had wasted at such a “thrifty” car rental in order to make it to Kruger in time.

Moments down to 6:30 with only a matter of breaths to spare, we pulled up to the gate only to have the gate patrol quiz us —

“Where is it you are going?”

“We are staying the night.”

“Yes, where!? The name!!!???”

“Uhhh. It starts with an S. It is in the lower corner right here by the gate.”

“You need a reservation numba.”

“We don’t have one.”

“Then you have no reservation.”

“We called this morning…”

“Reservation numba?” she quickly cut us off. “Without numba you have no reservation. I cannot let you in.”

Entirely discouraged. We paused a moment before the conversation started to repeat itself and the attendant seemed more annoyed. She called her manager in the main office just behind us and quickly sent us over to verify.

We verified quickly. However, even after verifying they kept us at the gates for quite some time. We could not go in until an escort was called. We were staying at camp Shonga in the lower bush region, beyond the river and grassland. At sundown, our escort showed up in a pickup truck and we trailed behind him to the lobby of our camp at a high pace past a rhino that stood lonely at the side of the road, leaping impalas and several other animals.

The instant sighting of so many free roaming animals was amazing. We were excited to reach our camp. Our camp had a capacity of 10 and the 4 of us were the only one’s staying.   This made everything about the camp private accommodations at no additional cost.

Our camp consisted of grass roofs and wood framed buildings that held together walls that were made of tent material – the very same we are accustomed to in the US with the see through bug layering and then the rain sheltering. Bugs could crawl through the space between the floor and where the tent started so the bed had a mosquito netting. The setting was extremely nice with a claw-foot bath tub, an outdoor shower and a queen bed. Aside from the tent shield the only thing remotely familiar to a camp-like setting was the overwhelming smell of the nearby septic tank or lack thereof.

We rose early. 5am was camp wake up call. 5:30 was tea time at the main camp. As soon as our tea or coffee was done it was time to set out for three hours of safari with our guide. Since there was only four of us in the camp, there was only four of us in the safari. This made for a private safari ride. We were as lucky as anyone could be as all the surrounding camps were sold out. We immediately saw a variety of animals and heard lions roaring in the distance. We spent the first hour circling the sound of the lions, tracking their paws and listening for them in the distance. We unfortunately never came close enough to see them. However we saw hippos cruising the currents of the powerful river, zebra running across our path, elephants off in the distance, etc. Our guide taught us that here in the reserve they refer to impalas as McDonald’s not only because their tail markings make an M shape but because they are around every corner and are considered “fast food.”

After our first run we had breakfast which was nothing too unusual.  So far it was very South African and referred to as Continental like most places.  We had passion fruit alongside other typical fruits and a variety of meats – sausage (which is not always your typical beef like here in the states, but this time I think it was), bacon, salami, and a slice of turkey.  The meal usually includes some cheeses and olives as well.  In other words, it is my perfect variety of breakfast and very European.  We have more tea and mango juice, fresh.  I am delighted.

Afterwards I watch Jeff and JM play Scrabble in the shade of the deck overlooking miles of bush, eyeing for any grazing animals.  We saw nothing but Shaun had a giraffe visit his camp for a brief eye to eye stare down.  I wondered around – back and forth between the main camp and our room.  I read a book on the porch and attempted to tan my tragically white legs.  The scariest animals out there to me seemed to be the size of the horse flies which would chase you as if  you were a baby elephant to them so I quickly retreated inside to cool down from the ever-sweaty surroundings of Kruger National in the claw-footed bath tub.  From there it was time for our second, afternoon safari with the greatest tour guide of all.

We started with tea again as we had already had our lunch around 1pm.  Our afternoon safari was from 4pm to about 7:30.  Straight out of the gates we came upon an entire herd of Buffalo, one of the Big 5.  However, the Buffalo were hidden behind some trees and off the beaten path.  Contrary to the rules, because there were only 4 of us and our guide knew we were up for adventure and ok with a bit of danger upsetting the animals, he drove off the path and down over the bush and within a few feet of the entire herd who sat begrudgingly starring at us.  Some males kicked their hoofs as if they wanted to charge us and then decided our Toyota Land Cruiser (named Timon, no joke) was a much larger animal than them.  We were surrounded.  Our guide said there were easily 200 or more.

We moved on and it was not much longer when he spotted the same instance with a herd of elephants.  Buffalo are known at killing the most humans on foot in the pride lands.  However, elephants kill the most within the vehicle as they are much larger than us and can turn us over easily and trample us all when mad.  It was just the other day that our tour guide had to out run an angry elephant… in reverse.  However, he brought us right up to the herd off the beaten path again.  We saw baby elephants of all sizes rushing to keep up with their mothers and reach for their tails just like in the movie Jungle Book.  The entire sight was delighting.  For the most part the herds travel without any males and males travel together, separately.  Therefore the herd immediately wandered away from us.  We weren’t eager to get that chummy with any male elephants.

For hours we circled around finding miles of zebras and impalas, but never able to find the mornings roaring Lions or any Leopard which apparently can only be spotted in the trees and usually in the evening.  Leopards are usually spotted by drivers (who are there every day) every 1 to 2 months.  Our guide hadn’t seen one in over 2 months so we were sure it was time, but we did not get to see any cats on our brief tour.

Back at the main camp I was the only one to be daring enough to ask for Kudu for dinner while everyone else ate chicken.  Kudu was one of the animals we saw on our safari and rather tasty although with our malaria medication none of us had any appetite.  I went to bed without dinner already a handful of times on the trip.  I would say it was hunger that made it appetizing, but I still wasn’t hungry at all.  I came to dinner out of kindness which quickly backfired into an absolute cranky need to go to bed.  First night of “camp” was anything but a pleasant night of sleep as we all attempted to get used to the noises of the bugs and frogs around us.  I woke that morning in an absolute panic thinking a local bird was something similar to a Smartphone alarm created in our somewhat peaceful world back home which I’ve now realized is a digital impression of what the rest of the world realizes is peaceful – the squawk of a bird and the constant buzz of forest bugs.  Welcome to the Motherland.

Off Road Break for Tea

Surrounded by the herd of Buffalo

A Jungle Book-like Company of Elephants

Picking up her baby to run for it

Taller than the trees

Surprisingly hard to see in the bush

Filed under: Traveling , buffalo, giraffe, kruger national park, monkeys, South Africa, southern africa, the big 5, zebras

Happy New Year from Johanessburg.

Johanessburg is an interesting city. Every part of the city closes between the hours of 5 and 6. It’s like a Sunday in Salt Lake City. I don’t know how people who live here ever meet anyone new or make friends. Once you get off work you go straight home. The grocery store is located in the local mall and the largest section of the store is the meat. There is hardly any fresh looking produce. What produce they have is all something that has a shell. Passion fruit is JM’s favorite local find. He’s been eating several at every breakfast. We are given several meaty options for breakfast as well. I enjoy all of the fruit however.

Nando’s is the local fast food favorite. We ate there twice. The boys all had hamburgers of various spicy sorts. I always opted for chicken and spicy rice with or without veges.

We spent three nights and two days in Jo’Burg. The first day JM and I woke at 4am. Once we got started for the day, some time around noon with everyone and after breakfast at the hotel, we went to the apartheid museum which was touching but rather large and hard to get through all at once. We spent several hours there and came back to the hotel afterwards. I crashed early and was pretty much out for the night.

The next day seemed confusing to already be New Year’s Eve. JM and I woke again at 4:30am. We all were out the door after breakfast by 9am or so. We took a rather confusing GPS route through the ghetto (accidentally choosing shortest route rather than fastest route) to The Cradle of Humankind where we first took a tour of the Sterkfontein Caves where Ms. Pleas, the oldest human descendent has been found as well as “Little Foot” which they are still working to extract. We then went to the Cradle visitor center where we went on a ride through the worlds physical elements on how it was created. It was somewhat endearing going through the ice age, fire, tectonic shifting, etc with absolutely no explanation. Not exactly Disney. We raced through looking at various fossils and ignoring most of the kid-like exhibits at the visitor center so that we could go to the Lion and Rhino (otherwise known as Ryan and Lino according to JM) Reserve where we drove through the reserve, witnessing some rhinos running full speed after each other and stopped the car contrary to being against the rules where we looked hard for some lions only to realize that one of them was about five feet from the car underneath a bush. Another one of the “rules” was to stay 25 meters from the lions at all times to assure the ability to drive full speed ahead. Aside from that, we came face to face with an ostrich while I was still putting the window of the car up which definitely made me jump.

From there we set the car aside and decided to get out and look around and the animals that were caged. Mongoose, baby crocodile, cobras, etc. we wondered around until we found the diamonds in the rough – the cats! The four of us couldn’t decide on what it was we wanted so we purchased tickets to everything! We went into every cage possible and spent every allowable minute playing with tigers, white lionesses, brown lionesses, and a rare white lion with a black mane… And holy crap can they attack!!!!

Our first cage were two lions considered adult lions – 9 and 10 months old. The tour guide immediately chastised us, “Do not look them in the eyes!” As we were allowed to touch them, we were told to only walk where they walk, to walk slowly and to never create a path where they would ultimately begin stalking us. We were not allowed to touch their heads. Of course, regardless of following those rules, one of the Tigers perched themselves on their playground area several inches above me and perhaps saw a wisp of my hair, suddenly snatched their paw towards my face over my hand which was on his at the time and exposed two of his claws. He immediately focused his eyes, toned his muscles over his front quarters as JM took me by the hips and said to me, “Walk away! He will jump on you.” Somehow, without breaking a smile or quickening my pace too abruptly, I turned and left the cats side without overlooking my shoulder until I was safely with the other cat.

In the other cage I watched a smaller lioness pounce the guide, grabbing hold of her shirt. She was helpless until someone distracted the lion or thumped her on the nose. Thankfully this lion weighed much less although she still overpowered the guide from behind. I was quickly turned into a toyful snack within moments of entering the cage which was more entertaining than terrifying so long as the large cats gnawed on my right side and not my already injured left knee and ankle. Once the powerful male reached my left ankle scar, the reaction struck me and came across to him as competitive in nature. Like a puppy, he wanted to play and what he wanted most was my shoes. However, he was hardly the pit bulls I was use to growing up with. He was four times the size and even more powerful. Thankfully despite my recent excess in weight gain, this lion thought my legs and arms were not enough for him and he quickly grew very bored of me and decided to challenge Shaun for the next twenty minutes.

As we played the safari skies grew darker and for the first time in my life the rolling hills ran far enough that I could see the lightning bolts scatter horizontally within the skies as if God were bowling across the land. The view was fascinating. One lightning bolt would strike far away and then a rolling circle of light would light up thousands of kilometers of earth. The park was beginning to shut down. We thought we would try to catch the rhinos one more time, so we head towards the hills until just in front of us a huge bolt of lightning crashed down. We all recalled the story the guide just told us about how lightning had killed all the giraffe they kept here at the reserve because they were the tallest objects. Now we were on the tallest hill at the reserve. We decided very quickly that it was time to leave. In our very little Nissan Tida, we passed several cars in questionable terrain and drove a crazy level of kph straight out of the park.

At home we all took naps longer than expected and were forced to eat at the Polo Bar again just below us at the hotel because everything was either closed or booked for New Year’s Eve. I definitely over ate but I had a really nice cheese stuffed potato made gnocchi. The boys ordered a champagne to go for celebrating and I took some olives to the room. We went up to the room and could not stop laughing as we emptied the mini refrigerators in each bedroom, preparing them for the New Year’s tradition that we had read about on About.com. According to About.com in Jo’Burg a common tradition that is “almost” under control is to shoot guns and throw refrigerators off the roof for NYE. We did see one person wheeling their fridge down the street earlier that day. So when in Rome…

We prepped our fridges respectively and ended up with quite an epic photo.

Happy New Year 2012 from Johanessburg!

Filed under: Traveling , happy new year, Johanessburg, lion and rhino reserve, NYE, South Africa, Sterkfontein caves, the cradle of humankind

Welcome to Johannesburg, City of Gold.

South Africa, easily my number one fascination in the world for as long as I can remember. I was THAT girl – the one who aced the location and pronunciation of Lesotho in elementary geography classes as a country in South Africa’s center; the girl who gave heart felt speeches in Junior High, High School AND College Public Speaking courses on apartheid; the one who knew everything from South Africa being known as ZA to their country long distance code; the one who taught herself short phrases in Afrikaans and kept a long term pen pal relationship with “middle school boyfriend” Tommy Pullen before losing touch when he received his rugby scholarship to London where he planned on becoming a lawyer. We were the best of friends for 7 or 8 he years after our unlikely meeting – me as an 8th grader who knew everything about his country, on a Disney World field trip with a bunch of students who may have been impressive looking but to him we’re impressively uncultured. He was a year older than me, all the way from Port Elizabeth. He played rugby, was keen on surfing as much as the tides would allow, made straight A’s and was visiting Florida as one of seven students that South Africa had granted a NASA scholarship. He was there visiting the Orlando headquarters. Who knew the ironic paths my life would take me from that moment forward regarding so many likenesses to that one passing in time.

Here we are, JM and I, with his brother, Shaun and our very best friend, Jeff. We are enjoying a brisk morning of tea in Jo’burg, South Africa. We arrived last night.

The plane ride was a fantastic experience. We had first class individual pods that lay down all the way. I think they are built for average size people – weight and height – but I was comfortable enough to sleep most of the 14 hour flight. I watched a movie during the in-flight dinner which was an amazing steak, soup, fruit, cheese plate, roll, wine, dessert wine, and I don’t even know what else. I was so stuffed! The list of movies was about 40-long and all free! After dinner I slept about 3 hours before waking up completely and needing another sleeping pill. From there I was out cold!!! I think the only reason I woke up again was the announcement that they were prepping to land within 2 hours and serving the final meal and I surely didn’t want to miss that! I am one of those people who can’t not eat when being served but am always sure to regret it. I always eat what’s on my plate and then wonder why I weigh what I did in high school, back when my mom was feeding me… And feeding me well!

Eating last night was an adventure however. JM and I ordered tapas. Despite staying at the Westcliff, in five star amenities and spoiling ourselves by taking over the entire presidential suite (which I was very confused to find they have pictures of American presidents) the Rand trades at 12 cents to the dollar so food here at the Polo Par, below our suite, was 12 dollars for the nicest dish. JM and I opted for the tapas however which were all about 4-6 dollars. We had calamari, ostrich spring rolls, a type of cheese, and what ended up being a sort of beef jerky dish that all of us devoured. We opted for two plates of the calamari too although I am always a big fan of ostrich.

This morning has been stunning so far. Despite waking up at 4:01am African time, I watched the sun come up (it is a rainy day so not spectacular) and began to hear the most awkward noise like people screaming. Turns out this was the noise of hundreds of native birds awakening. If you have seen the movie up, this is the noise of Kevin and all of his friends. Small yellow puffed up birds and birds with Mohawks started arriving at our veranda as I opened the door. It was wonderful! I attempted to do yoga at the veranda opening to great the day with Sun Salutations. Since it has been so long the warrior positions were a bit much for my left ankle post-surgery but it was a start none the less. A shower and some morning oolong were a perfect start. Now for some breakfast…

Filed under: Daily Life, Traveling , city of gold, Johannesburg, South Africa, travel

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 3,700 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 3 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Filed under: Social Media & Marketing , annual report