Syrupsun

The Journey Continues...

2010-03-09T15:33:00.000-08:00

We've unpacked our backpacks. We now shower and change clothes on a more regular basis. We know where we're sleeping each night. And we speak the language of those around us.

In those ways Syrupsun is over but here, thankfully, Syrupsun lives on.

If regular life ever gets too boring we can jump in Devil's Pool, float down the Amazon, Nile, or Zambezi Rivers, get up close and personal with lions, elephants, camels, and monkeys, hang out with the kids of Rift Valley Children's Village, walk among the ruins of past civilizations, or just sit and relax on the world's most beautiful beaches.

We can't summarize what this journey has meant for us. But we can thank everyone we met that helped us along our way. Some picked us up on the side of the road, some helped us find a place to sleep, some took us places we would never have seen. We would like to especially thank, Pato, Jorge, Suzanna, Linda, Catarina, Camilla, and Zack all of whom welcomed us into their lives and led us on great adventures.

More than just individuals we'd like to thank the Earth and all its citizens. The world rewarded our trust, curiosity, and sense of adventure every day on Syrupsun. And, given the chance, it'll reward yours too.

View Syrupsun ¿donde estamos? in a larger map

Good luck on your adventure.

It's hard to believe that this is the last Syrupsun post.

Thank you for coming along,

Temple and Clay

ReEntry

2010-03-03T08:09:00.000-08:00

We eased back into America in San Francisco with brother Hudson, who offered us his insanely comfy bed to rest our weary bones. I can't imagine a better place or better person to welcome us back from world travel and show us that the adventures weren't over. After a long rest, we explored Hudson's San Francisco from chilling in their amazing garden to visiting the Janet Pomeroy Center, and biking through Golden Gate Park and over the bridge with Hudson's bicycle sound system booming.

The next stop on our ReEntry tour was Denver to see "Syrupsun Sammy" (along with brother Tommy & Tiffany). Sammy was born just before we left and he showed us how long we'd been gone. Walking around and climbing stairs, just being a little explorer, maybe one day a world traveler.

We went skiing with the Moores in Breckenridge. The snowy Rockies were another wonder to grateful to explore. On the slopes, Temple looked graceful and Clay looked out of control.

The tour continued when Clay got to see cousin Anna Belle and Ty in Boulder and his old friend Zandman. There were more friends and family awaiting in Atlanta. So we boarded the last red-eye flight of Syrupsun, landing Atlanta at 6:00 am.

Everyone was thrilled for our safe return. The welcome home party began.

Fushimi Inari-taisha

2010-02-16T08:09:00.000-08:00

From the base of Inari Mountain, tunnels of torii gates climb to the inner shrine of Inari, the Shinto god of success and wealth. The hope of striking it rich makes the shrine a must visit for businessmen and entrepreneurs setting out on a new venture or going through hard times. The shrine has been successful itself, as you can tell by the torii gates. Each one has been donated by businesses or families thanking Fushimi Inari-taisha for bringing them great prosperity.

Philosopher's Path

2010-02-14T08:09:00.000-08:00

After reuniting with Zack in Kyoto, we set off on the Philosopher's Path. The route was made famous by Nishida Kitaro, a famous Japanese philosopher who walked along the canal during his daily meditations. The path links Ginkakuji, the Silver Pavilion, with smaller temples and gardens. We walked alone, thanks to the cold rain, discussing the meaning of life and other light subjects.

Our peaceful walk was beautiful and full of laughter.

Himeji Castle

2010-02-12T06:44:00.000-08:00

During our karaoke extravaganza in Tokyo, Zack's friends told us to visit Himeji Castle, one of the most popular and well preserved castles in Japan. Shoguns and samurais patrolled its walls and it even survived fire bombing during World War II. We arrived on an overcast day. The hilltop fortress appeared to be floating in the clouds.

Hakone Shrine

2010-02-10T06:43:00.000-08:00

From the shores of Lake Ashi, we walk through the vermilion tori gates past the towering Sugi trees that lead to the wooded shrine of Hakone. After the customary washing of hands, we walk to the altar where an offertory wooden box sits. Four large ropes attached to copper bells hang before us. We follow the prayer cycle of fellow worshipers: after tossing some yen into the box, we clap twice, shake the rope, then bow.

Onsen: Hadaka No Tsukiai

2010-02-08T06:42:00.000-08:00

Bathing in an onsen, a Japanese hot spring, is a traditional way to stay healthy and unwind. Businessmen soak together to relax after a stressful week in Tokyo. When Zack was teaching in Niigata, he bonded with his coworkers at an onsen.

We say goodbye to Temple who will have to have a solo naked adventure in the female onsen.

Zack and I walk into the locker room and get naked. We walk outside. In the corner are a few rounded stone stools with a bucket next to them. We sit and begin our bucket showers which are mandatory before entering the onsen. When we are clean, it is time to test the waters. There are six small pools to choose from, some are carved out of the mountain and others are wooden like jacuzzis. Each on is a different temperature ranging from ice cold to boiling hot.

We decide to begin in the largest and most popular. We relax and soak. During the next hour, we try out all the different pools and take a sauna. Once our relaxation is complete we towel off and go to hear about Temple's solo adventure.

Onsen by ClayBolton

Black Eggs

2010-02-07T06:42:00.000-08:00

We are floating above sulfur hot springs with mustard colored clouds rising towards our gondola. We disembark and walk with other tourists to the springs where eggs are boiled in the sulfur water which turns them black. You can only buy the eggs in bags of five. Since none of us think we will want more than one black sulphur egg, Zack asks a young Japanese couple if they want to split a bag. They are happy for the offer. With our bag in hand we start peeling.

Kamakura & Enoshima

2010-02-06T06:41:00.000-08:00

Zack points us in the right direction and heads to work. After navigating the kanji (Japanese writing) necessary for train travel, we arrive in Kamkura, a heavily templed town outside of Tokyo.

Before entering each temple, we cleanse ourselves by dipping a bamboo handled copper cup into icy water and rinsing our hands. We follow the locals who make offerings by throwing a few yen into a wooden box, clapping twice, and then bowing.

After sampling the local specialty of sweet potato ice cream, delicious and purple, we head to Daibutsu, the towering bronze statue of Amida Buddha looking out to the sea. Our journey along the coast continues as we make our way to Enoshima, a small island just off shore with temples and nature existing in harmony. We walk to the far side of the island to see Mt. Fuji in the setting sun.

The Future

2010-02-04T06:40:00.000-08:00

Landing in Tokyo from New Delhi was the closest we got to time travel. Gone were the cows lounging in dusty streets, the hawkers howling from every storefront. The clamor of India was replaced by the stillness of the train from Narita airport. We arrived at Shinjuku station in a mass of quiet and orderly people. In an odd way Japan felt like home. At least more like home than India. We walked through the neon to a quiet park. On a chilly February day we wandered alone.

That evening we met up with my cousin Zack outside Shinjuku. He's been living in Japan for almost 3 years and would be our guide for culinary and other adventures.

On Saturday morning, we woke up early to explore. Our first stop was the Sensoji Temple in Asakusa. This was snack central with tasty bean cakes, balls of fried octopus and other free samples of traditional fare. We were late in arriving to the world famous Tsukiji fish market but that didn't stop us from eating fresh sushi. Zack picked out an awesome conveyor belt sushi restaurant. As each plate glides pass, you grab whichever you want. The pricing is based on the color of the plate and when you're done they scan your stack of plates to give you the bill.

Fueled by sushi and green tea we ride the monorail to the The Hall of the Future, also known as the Musuem of Emerging Sciences, where we, along with many Japanese school children, saw that robots will one day be our overlords. But they've got a long way to go. Being surrounded by kids and gadgets made us want to go to an arcade. Luckily Sega's three-level Joypolis was nearby. We pumped a lot of yen coins into the games before leaving.

We were off to meet Zack's friends for dinner and karaoke. We ate izakaya "family style", before heading off to our own private cubicle to sing our heads off.

Rat Temple

2010-02-03T18:20:00.000-08:00

The name says it all. Rats run this temple. Milk and sweets are put out for the rodents to enjoy by worshipers who believe that they are the holy reincarnations of a storyteller from the 13th century.

Only in India.

Like other Indian temples, the Kari Mata requires you take off your shoes before entering. Here, however, tourists have the option of cloth foot covers. When we enter the temple, we see rats in every corner nibbling or scurrying by. There are so many rats that we have an odd primal reaction as if our deep Dark Ages ancestors are screaming "bubonic plague! bubonic plague!" Soon we're laughing, though not too loud as to offend.

Most of the temple is open air. Though I explore some of the darker corners, Temple thinks it wise to remain in the light.

Desert Festival

2010-02-02T18:20:00.000-08:00

We arrived in Jaisalmer two days before their world famous desert festival was set to begin. We extended our stay to see the parade and festivities which included Mr. Desert and Mr. Mustache competitions, camel decorating, and turban tying. For laughs there's also a tourists turban tying competition where Clay's attempt at the traditional turban scored only a few points short of first place.

Jaisalmer

2010-02-01T06:38:00.000-08:00

On the edge of the Thar Desert sits the sand castle fort of Jaisalmer. Unlike other forts in Rajasthan locals still live within its walls.

Blue City

2010-01-31T18:19:00.000-08:00

From the ramparts of the Mehrangarh Fort stretches out the Blue City of Jodhpur. Many generations of mahajaras marveled at this view from their impenetrable fortress, that weathered war-elephants and cannonballs. The royal family lived here even after Indian unification. Now, its gates are open to all and everyone can enjoy the once royal blue views.

Jain Temple

2010-01-29T18:26:00.000-08:00

A string of orange flowers hangs over the entrance to Chaumukha Mandir, the famous Jain Temple in Ranakpur. After removing our shoes, we slide our feet across cool marble floors to enter a kaleidoscope of color. A Jain ceremony bursts forth with sounds and smells. Generations of family sit playing music, chanting, and performing rituals that include offerings of food and dance. In a haze of incense, they perform devotions as if the onlooking tourists don't exist.

Udaipur

2010-01-28T18:19:00.001-08:00

On a hilltop in Udaipur sits the imposing City Palace glowing golden in the setting sun, while at a distant ghat colorfully dressed women wash the day's clothes. We circle the lake in a small boat cramped with Indian tourists getting an up-close view of the elegant floating palaces. A mother and child sit beside a barefoot man while he masterfully plays his ravanahatha, a traditional Indian fiddle.

Pushkar

2010-01-26T18:19:00.000-08:00

According to legend, when Brahma dropped a lotus flower thousands of years ago he created a lake in the middle of Pushkar. This makes Pushkar one of Hindu's most holy cities. In the bustling streets around the lake, music and prayer fill the air. Worshipers gather at the lake's many ghats, seeking guidance and purity while making offerings of brightly colored flowers and sweets.

After meeting the swamis, touring their temple, and becoming friends, we are invited to attend their puja ceremony that evening. Pushkar Temple by ClayBolton

Jantar Mantar

2010-01-24T05:50:00.000-08:00

Like many of us, Jai Singh II was fascinated by the stars. His interest led him to build observatories all over his kingdom and the largest, Jantar Mantar, is in Jaipur. Jantar Mantar means "instruments of calculation." These structures, built between 1727-1732, gave Singh II the ability to record time, locate stars, and track eclipses. Jantar Mantar has the largest sundial in the world called Samrat Yantra (The Supreme Instrument). The instruments continue to be accurate and used to this day.

Block Printing

2010-01-23T09:52:00.000-08:00

On the roof of Gandhi Textiles, a small ink-stained team of block printers work with surprising speed and detail. All the work is done by hand and put in the sun to dry. The final products are large pieces of cloth that will become bed linens, saris or scarfs.

Jaipur

2010-01-20T18:19:00.000-08:00

Our two week tour of the colorful kingdoms of Rajasthan begins when we meet our driver, Rajeev, a.k.a. Raj of Rajasthan. He's actually a sarcastic 24-year-old from Delhi who drives like a mad man. We learn this all too suddenly when we get into his car and are spun into a continuous whiplash motion accompanied by incessant honking. Before the car moves, he honks. When he passes a car, cow, or rickshaw, he honks. Before turning a corner, beeeeep! So I ask him "Do you always honk like this?" He responds with an Indian proverb, something like "No wife, no life; no girlfriend, no tension; no horn, no car". It seems funny enough, so I convince myself that I will adapt for the next 2 weeks with Raj.

When we arrive in Jaipur a few hours- and many honks- later, it is dark. We haggle for the 350 rupee ($7.00) hotel price and are off to bed. The next day we wander through the streets, forts and palaces of Rajasthan's capital. First, we tour the Amber Fort, its yellow walls welcoming tourists riding decorated elephants. Raj drives us by the Water Palace and a royal crematorium called Gatore Ki Chhatriyan with its beautifully carved white marble. We eat a delicious lunch of vegetarian tali which is like an Indian sampler: mixed vegetables, dal, masala, raiki, roti, papad and rice. Next, we walk around the City Palace, its ornate gates leading to stately halls, where maharajas (kings) received other dignitaries. Finally, we enjoy the ever rising windows of the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds).

Fog Mahal

2010-01-18T10:32:00.000-08:00

We walk through the fog and darkness of pre-dawn Agra, hoping to beat the throes to the Taj Mahal. Passing through the gates, just as the day begins to glow through the heavy fog, all we hear are birds chirping and cameras snapping. The encompassing cloud gives the marble mausoleum a mysterious aura as we admire its symmetry and inlay work.

Reclining Buddha

2010-01-17T09:57:00.000-08:00

After getting our Indian visas and seeing Avatar in 3-D, it was time to be tourists in Bangkok. We jumped into a tuk-tuk and headed for the Reclining Buddha and Grand Palace.

Purgatorio Paradiso

2010-01-10T09:57:00.000-08:00

Not a bad place to wait for a visa. Our long tail boat dropped us off in the east bay of Railay Beach. We waded ashore and found our bungalow on a nearby hillside. We soon forgot about deportation, Kuwait, and visas, and just swam in the Andaman Sea. The beautiful beaches were surrounded by towering cliffs and dense forests. With the smell of pad thai in the air, we knew five business days were going to fly by. We climbed into the jungle, found rocks to jump off, and rented kayaks to explore deserted beaches. Temple even tackled rock climbing. In the evenings, we chilled with ice cold Chang Beer. The days passed and soon our purgatorio in paradiso was over. As we departed in our long tail, we thanked Railay for letting us forget our problems.

Kuwaiting

2010-01-08T16:18:00.000-08:00

Syrupsun had been going smoothly, a little too smoothly, and we got sloppy. We landed in Mumbai without a plan but, more importantly, without visas. We soon found ourselves in a small room with a few immigration officials who questioned us and began paperwork. We naively thought that there was some alternative, that we could get a visa on arrival. Some of the staff we talked to seemed willing to help, but when Clay looked over the form said "Refusal to Land." Despite pleas for help, we were soon on a plane back to where we'd come from, a place we hadn't wanted to go to in the first place: Kuwait City, Kuwait.

Before boarding, Kuwait Airlines handed us tickets to go all the way back to Amman where we'd left the previous morning. We refused to go that far or pay for those tickets. Luckily, we got our bags off the plane before they flew there. In Kuwait, we immediately went to the Indian Embassy and explained that we'd been deported and needed a visa asap. We were shuffled back and forth all day between the consulate and the passport office. At one point, we heard that we could get the visa the next day if we got a certain man's signature, at another point we were told that it would be a minimum of 10 days. After hours of no official answer on how long we'd have to wait, our top priority switched from getting into India to getting out of Kuwait.

We left the embassy with our passports and decided that if we had to wait, we'd do it somewhere beautiful, and cheap. Thailand. We found tickets online and surprisingly Thai Airways had a Kuwait office open until 8:00 pm every night. All day long regular people at the embassy had been helping us even as they dealt with their own problems. This continued as people in the internet cafe lent us cell phones, people on the street helped us with directions, and in the end, one guy walked us all the way to the airline office. We were amazed and grateful at the kindness of the people in Kuwait who made the ordeal bearable.

We flew to Thailand the following day. The Indian Embassy in Bangkok guaranteed our visas in five business days. It suddenly seemed so simple. After dropping off the passports we got on the first bus to the beach.

Dead Sea Float

2010-01-03T16:16:00.000-08:00

In the Dead Sea, you float like a cork. Falling backwards into the water your body slides across the surface without effort. We floated in the late afternoon sun, quickly getting used to our salty lounge chairs. We were the last ones in the sea as the sun sunk behind the hills of Israel.

Petra Blue Moon

2010-01-01T11:31:00.000-08:00

We first glimpse the Treasury after walking through a long deep canyon called the Siq, when sandstone walls reveal the intricately carved face of Petra. The stone facade glows golden, filling the air with an ethereal magic. After the postcard Petra experience, I worry that the rest of the Nabatean metropolis will disappoint, but the magic continues as the city of sandstone sprawls in every direction. We hike around the site for hours, exploring the holes and eroded facades that occupy every nook and cranny. Even more amazing is the visible effect of time on the ancient walls. The faces of tombs appear to be melting in a gothic display of dripping reds, purples, yellows and blues.

While looking for the Treasury viewpoint from the top of the canyon, I follow Clay up a stairway that seems to lead to nowhere. After many steps we arrive at the Sacred High Place- a carved stone altar used for rituals in biblical times. Although it's not what we're looking for, the views are worth the hike. Back down the stairway to nowhere, we pass the Royal Tombs and finally find the trail to the viewpoint. We briefly lose our way when, suddenly, the top of the Treasury's facade appears. The new perspective ignites a sense of discovery in both of us.

Down from the viewpoint, we take the main road through the center of the ancient city, passing souvenir shops, camel caravans and mysterious temple ruins. We head for the Monastery which is on the top of a mountain that we climb with several other tourists, many on donkeys. The reward is the remarkable Monastery, which, like the Treasury, is mostly a facade, the inside being only an empty room.

After climbing for several hours, we are ready to head back but I go for an alternative route. Soon, we are in a whole new part of the ancient city, seeing incredible tombs and ruins, some only partially uncovered. We follow a path that takes us to the Renaissance Tomb, Tomb of the Soldier and the Lion Fountain. All magnificent. Low on fuel, I'm hoping to turn the corner to find the main road but instead the trail leads up and up, more stairs. Clay helps me keep a good attitude when I'm seconds away from hopping on the next donkey I see. As soon as we reach the summit, Clay sighs, "Sacred High Place". We've climbed the back way to where we were that morning. We laugh at ourselves, enjoy the views again and finally descend, heading back to the hotel to rest before our New Years celebration begins.

That evening, we join a small crowd to walk the candlelit path through the Siq in silence. When we arrive, the space in front of the Treasury is dotted with paper lanterns. Traditional music plays and we drink hot Beduoin tea, enjoying the Treasury in moonlight.

Wadi Rum Diaries

2009-12-29T11:30:00.000-08:00

Cool, powdery red sand slides between our toes as we stand in the silent vastness of Wadi Rum. We've just run up a sand dune which feels more like flour than sand. The jeeps look tiny on the desert floor below surrounded by sand and protruding rock formations. We run, leaping down the dunes like playing in the snow to continue our prehistoric cruise through the sandstone. Staring at the cliffs, you could begin to see pharaohs, pyramids or Petra coming out of the walls. Our Bedouin guides grew up in the Wadi, just like their nomadic ancestors, and were more than happy to tell us that T. E. Lawrence was a punk. As amazing as the red sand and rock formations were, it was the stillness that was overwhelming. The sun on your back, feet in the sand, you could listen to the same silence that caravans of traders heard 2000 years ago.

We found the perfect rock looking west over a valley to watch the sunset in the distant hills. The dramatic colors of the day shone in the golden light. We made our way to camp in the evening glow finding six goat hair tents at the bottom of a tremendous rock face. After a fire, a few cups of Bedouin tea, along with some singing and drumming, we stepped out into the crystal clear night to gaze at the beaming moon. We got back to our tent and dumped a day's worth of red sand out of our shoes.

Musa's Mountain

2009-12-24T11:30:00.000-08:00

Our ascent of Mt. Sinai began at 1:00 am in the morning. With our headlamps blazing, we climbed the Camel Path Trail. It's not a clever name. Camels would appear out of the darkness breathing down your neck. The warning of "camel!" was frequent and they don't break for tourists.

We were hiking with the group from the minibus we took from Dahab. Our mountain guide gave us the name "Katrina" which he would scream almost non-stop in a Marco Polo fashion. He would also stop the group for head counts and ask, "Have you seen the woman? The large woman?" After one too many stops and rests on what wasn't that challenging of a hike, we, along with a French artist, decided to push ahead on our own.

We soon met up with a Canadian couple who had also left the Katrina group but didn't have a headlamp. The five of us climbed alone to the end of the Camel Path where the stair climb to the summit begins. When we got to the final concession stand before the summit we learned we were the first ones up. A full three frigid hours before sunrise. We took shelter in the shop where they sold coffee and rented out blankets. We wrapped ourselves up and chatted with our climbing partners.

Soon the shop filled up with other climbers and our guide arrived. "Katrina!" At 4:45 am we walked the final 100 meters to the freezing summit. The group found the perfect spot at the edge and huddled together for warmth. The horizon began to glow long before the sun appeared, lighting the landscape we had just hiked through. Standing in a shivering mass of humanity we waited.

"Here comes the sun!" Temple called out, seeing the orange orb under the clouds. I wish I had said, "it's alright", but I was cold. Besides, it was better than alright. It was biblical.

Thebes

2009-12-20T11:29:00.000-08:00

In the middle of ancient Thebes, now Luxor, rise two impressive temples, Karnak and Luxor. Karnak has a incredible hypostyle hall with over 100 towering columns covered in hieroglyphs. Many pharaohs added and expanded on Karnak over the years making it one of the largest religious sites from the ancient world. Karnak was once connected to the Luxor Temple by a sphinx-lined street. Restoration is underway to restore this pathway.

Upon its discovery, Luxor Temple was buried under houses and an important mosque. When archeologists started to uncover it, the local citizens refused to let them destroy the mosque. Now it, along with remnants of Coptic Christians who painted murals over the temple walls, shows Luxor's long and layered history.

River Nile Felucca

2009-12-16T08:07:00.000-08:00

Our fire burns down to embers during a chilly night on the banks of the Nile River. When it's time to board the boat for bed our captain, Allah, notices that the passing river boats have beached our felucca. He and his uncle, who we just call "Uncle," wade into the water and begin to push. They are having little to no success so I roll up my pants and step into the dark Nile. With Uncle and Allah on either side of me, we try to leg press the boat into deeper waters. At first, it is a comedy of errors but soon we begin to feel the felucca coming unstuck. After a few more synchronized pushes, she is floating again.

We boarded the beautiful white sailing boat earlier that day in Aswan. The deck of the felucca had a foam mattress and pillows for lounging. We sailed around, just the two of us, before picking up Tim from Portugal, Catherine from Texas and a Chinese couple. We all relaxed and talked of our travels as Allah tacked back and forth across the Nile. By the time the sun set in the desert to the west, we were all good friends. We continued sailing after dark, gliding along in the Egyptian night before going ashore for dinner and a fire. The Chinese man surprised us all by breaking out his harmonica. Uncle accompanied him on drums. Allah pulled out his travel size hookah and we smoked sheeshah.

Once the boat was unstuck, we boarded and prepared to sleep in the cold under thick blankets. When we awoke, the Chinese were gone, having only signed up for one night. We were in no rush the second day. We didn't start sailing until 11:00am and soon after we stopped for an extended lunch break. Allah said it was a good place to swim. We were all still cold from the night before but I was ready to jump in. I ran into the refreshing water as the other three began to change their minds. Soon we were all bathing in ancient waters.

After lunch we had a strong wind at our backs and continued towards Luxor. We learned from Catherine that Allah had offered her 500 camels and 2,000 Egyptian pounds for her hand in marriage. We laughed about the proposal and the other antics of Allah and Uncle. Allah only spoke a little English and Uncle, none, so much was lost in translation. As funny as Allah was, it was Uncle who stole the show with his crazy eyes, random animal noises and cuddling up to me as a morning wake up call. The laughter continued around the camp fire that night and into the final day of our voyage.

Temples of Upper Egypt

2009-12-16T06:59:00.000-08:00

Temple loves temples. Needless to say she was digging the Nile Valley. I'm more of a simpleton, thinking that once you've seen one offering scene of lotus you've seen them all. But amateur Egyptologist Temple Moore's enthusiasm was infectious. She was soon teaching me and our new friends all she had learned in art history class.

Abu Simbel

2009-12-15T11:29:00.000-08:00

The temples of Abu Simbel are three hours south of Aswan near the border with Sudan. The tourist convoy leaves every morning at 3:00am and returns around 1:00pm. The crazy hours are so you miss the extreme midday heat in the desert. Although in the winter heat is not such a problem, the schedule doesn't change. So in the wee hours of the morning, we're squeezing into yet another mini bus. It's an uncomfortable journey on which neither of us sleep. More importantly, however, when we get to Abu Simbel, we're the first ones through the gate and our first views of the towering Ramses II are amazing and devoid of tourists.

How Bazaar

2009-12-13T11:29:00.000-08:00

We are lost. We're looking for the bazaar from our guidebook when a small man appears. He asks if we want the tourist bazaar or the real bazaar. Without hesitation we both say, the real one. "Then follow me," he says.

Just steps from the busy street, we're pushing aside oriental rugs and rolls of fabric, heading down dark alleys. Soon we arrive at a spice market out of Arabian Nights. Our new friend Medi introduces the owner of one of the most famous shops who lets us smell and taste all he has to offer. We enjoy the aromas and color and buy some dried hibiscus for tea. Then we continue through the labyrinth past juice bars, a fez factory and the oldest coffee shop in Cairo. We soon find ourselves in a pickling factory where four jovial Cairenes are pickling all types of vegetables in large wooden barrels.

Back outside, we head for our guide's workshop. Turns out he makes beautiful wooden inlaid boxes. He shows us all the different qualities and prices and we watch his fellow artists working. The top of the line boxes are amazingly detailed and expensive. We buy a budget travellers' priced one. But the tour doesn't end there.

He walks us back to the market, stopping in on shoemakers and a papyrus art gallery. After pausing to get us a sugar cane juice, our guide pushes open a large wooden door to an abandoned looking room. He looks back at us with a sly grin and we follow. Soon, we are standing next to a boiling bath tub where men are creating dyes for Egyptian cotton. They are working very intensely on a brown dye after finishing the blazing blues and blinding whites that now hang to dry in the midday sun. We stand there in awe of the color and craftsmanship.

Moments later, we find ourselves where we had been lost just an hour before. "This is where I leave you." And with that, our guide disappears back into the bazaar.

Pyramid Fields

2009-12-10T11:29:00.000-08:00

Out of the taxi window, we get our first glimpse of the Giza Pyramids. We have only been in Cairo a few hours and are determined to get on a camel asap. All our romantic notions of camels, sand dunes and pyramids quickly collide and crumble into modern Giza. Our camels look abused. Instead of sand dunes we are on city streets. And very far from the pyramids.

This camel ride begins a pattern in Egypt. Doing something you think will be amazing, then it turns out to be bootleg, and just as you're about to lose hope, mystic ancient Egypt appears and takes your breath away. Because after riding through the neighborhood with no pyramids in sight, we ride past a graveyard and into the desert, not very far into the desert but still. Just a few sand dunes away are the three pyramids. Aside from the large chain-link fence with security cameras patrolling the perimeter, the view is time travel back four thousand years. It's hard to add any insight to pyramids that were considered ancient by the ancient Greeks. They are timeless, looking thousands of years old and space-age all at once. Or like a constellation, appearing, from a far sand dune, as stars in space. Watching one sunset of the million the pyramids have seen and the millions more they will see, is the perfect end to the first day of our Egyptian adventure.

Early the following morning, we're alone at the Dahshur pyramid field. Our first up close encounter is with the Red Pyramid. We walk around in awe, then climb up the walls to crawl down into the tomb. Tight squeeze is an understatement. Doubled over, we waddle down the narrow passage until it opens into a large chamber. It smells bad and is burning hot. Soon we are crawling back out. Behind the Red Pyramid is the Bent Pyramid. During construction they had to change the angle half way up to avoid collapse. It's not structurally sound to this day and is off limits to tourists.

Our next stop is the Saqqara Pyramid, the first pyramid and first stone structure ever built. The work of the great architect Imhotep, it is a step pyramid making it unique from the more famous complete pyramids.

To end the day we head to the Giza Pyramids. After having Dahshur and Saqqara basically to ourselves, the number of people at Giza is overwhelming and a little demystifying. Large even on a modern scale, every apsect about the pyramids is difficult to comprehend. Down the hill sits the Sphinx. No riddles were asked. The only question was how do I get away from all these people? But the throngs of tourists are appropriate. It's been a wonder for nearly five thousand years.

And Me

2009-12-06T11:28:00.000-08:00

These kids don't get dizzy. It's impossible to spin one kid around without all the others wanting to take flight. As soon as I set Elibaraka down, here comes Bennett, Micha and Yohani pulling at my shirt calling "and me! and me!". When I start to get dizzy from all the circles, I tell them to count to 100. Most get to 50 -by which time my equilibrium has returned- and they get another spin. After a few more rounds, I have to ask them to count again. This time, before they hit double digits, they lose interest and go play elsewhere. But moments later, without fail, they return screaming "me high! me high!".

Manyara House

2009-12-03T11:27:00.000-08:00

The Manyara boys are the big men on campus. The younger kids of the village look up to them and it's no mystery why. They are cool, smart, funny and loyal, making a great team.

Saidi is the leader of the house, telling others what to do and maintaining his tough-guy image despite an impossibly sweet grin. Benja is the ham. He loves to crack jokes but also to assert his authority. Although he's small, Swedi takes after his big brother Saidi, and is very mature for his age. Jackie tends to be a little shy except for on the soccer field. Then there is Abdul, the charming, sensitive one. He loves reading and has the best smile in the village. Silly Yusufu, as the youngest boy, gets pushed around quite a bit. James, inquisitive and sarcastic, always has something on his mind. The boys are eager to learn new things, whether its a story from a history book or a dance from Step It Up the movie. They are responsible, always completing their chores without being asked and having fun in the process. Each one is more than willing to take care of baby January whenever he's out of the Mamas' arms. Together the Manyara men are a charming act and constant entertainment.

Along with the boys, there are three sweet girls living in the house plus Neema who returns from high school during holidays, and who I hung out with during my last week. Edina is sassy and hard-headed. She takes good care of her younger sister Rehema who is smart, and so, mischievous. They are both adorable but Natalie takes the cake. Three years old and full of personality, I fell in love with her on day one. Immediately, she latched on to me and I to her, both of us crying when it was time to say goodbye.

Mama Priska is the main disciplinarian of the house. I visited her small, cozy home when I took some kids on a walk to pick peaches in her village. Mama Eliphas is Masaai and so has a shaved head and sings upbeat chants while playing with the baby. She loves teasing the kids and it is a joy to see her laugh. Both of them were so lovely to me. Also living in Manyara is young Melanie, who cooks a lot of the meals, and Elizabeth, the kindergarden teacher. I gave them typing lessons on my computer and we would stay up late watching Tanzanian soap operas. I appreciate these wonderful women and their joyful spirits.

I feel so blessed to have lived in Manyara for my three weeks at RCVC. On the last day of school when the students marched, I was so proud of all of them, especially Jackie for winning the best sportsmanship award and of Abduli for receiving best student overall. I am so impressed by the love and respect that these young people show for and expect of each other. Although they occasionally fight, the kids are quick to protect their cacas and dadas (brothers and sisters). They gave me a wonderful gift when they accepted me in and I am forever grateful.

Serengeti House

2009-12-02T11:28:00.000-08:00

"Tell one from your heart" says Isaka from the top bunk.

After a perfect day of peach-picking, frisbee-throwing and monkey bar-swinging, it's story time and all the Serengeti boys are awaiting an epic tale. I tell them stories of a group of eight boys named Mole, Paulo, Simon, Christopher, Vicente, Boaz, Joshua and Isaka. Their adventures take them around Africa, swimming at Mosi-oa-Tunya, rafting down the Zambezi, sailing to Zanzibar and having close encounters with lions. Though they enjoy each story, their favorite one is when they are all signed to play for Manchester United and win the Premier League. Basking in the glow of victory, they fall asleep and dream of the Champion's League.

I then cross the house and knock on the girls' door. "Hodi?" "May I come in?" Inside, Christina, Eva and Happy are quietly doing schoolwork, reading books or folding laundry. A huge change from the rowdy boys' room. I tell them similar adventures only changing the characters to three girls. But they want true stories, about me. I tell them about my friends and family back home, mainly, tis' the season, about our family Christmas traditions. When my stories are over Christina reads The Giving Tree, her favorite book. She reads it so well, though she doesn't need the book at all. "I know it in my heart," she says. Each reading is incredibly moving and a highlight of my day. "Lala salama," I say, closing the door behind me.

Lying in bed that night, I dread leaving in a few days, but am happy knowing that this place, these children and our stories will always be in my heart.

Playgroup

2009-11-30T11:27:00.000-08:00

Right after breakfast, and still blurry eyed, we head to Rubondo House for playgroup where ten adorable and rambunctious toddlers await us. Luckily, we had Laura, who had been volunteering since September, to show us the ropes.

First, we try to settle them down around the table with books. Sometimes the kids want you to read to them, sometimes they want to point at the pictures or play i-spy. We are happy as long as they are seated quietly, sharing and not ripping pages out.

As soon as everyone has put up their books, it's play dough time. The kids ask us to make lions, elephants and giraffes. Clean up sometimes takes longer than play dough time itself since the blue mud quickly spreads around the room. The kids love singing songs like "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes", "The Wheels on the Bus" and "Elephant, Go Take a Bath" (a RVCV classic). Then, to chill them out, we watch five minutes of Sesame Street before "saya lala", nap time. While they sleep, we get a needed break.

Rift Valley Children's Village

2009-11-21T01:48:00.000-08:00

In 2003, founder India Howell began her dream of the Rift Valley Children's Village. After six years, the dream and the village have grown to 69 young Tanzanians living in five houses: Serengeti, Manyara, Rubondo, Mkumi, and Kiran. Beautifully situated just outside the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, the village is surrounded by green hills of coffee plantations, purple jacaranda trees, and pink bougainvillea flowers. During our stay, Temple lived in Manyara House and Clay stayed in Serengeti House assisting the mamas and attempting to communicate in Swahili.

Early every morning, we were awoken by the sound of bunk beds and chairs being drug across the floor. Sitting together around a large table the kids eat breakfast, either PB&J or porridge called ugi, then complete their morning chores. Around 7:00 am uniforms are on and the short walk to school begins. The kids are surprisingly perky as they drag yawning volunteers down the road. While the older kids were at school, we spent the morning with playgroup, 2-3 year olds, in Rubundo House. After their morning naps, they are joined by the pre-schoolers, 4-5 year olds, to play in the library, coloring, building legos, and climbing all over volunteers. 12:30 is saa kula, lunch time.

In the afternoon, Temple was in charge of pre-school kids. She'd take them on nature walks, draw with sidewalk chalk or play games. While helping Temple with pre-school, Clay tutored/played with Elibaraka, a really bright 4-year old who loves math and puzzles.

At the end of the day is free play. This is a time for controlled chaos with older kids coming back from school and the little ones running about. After returning home for bath time, the kids eat a snack of egg and bread, then watch a movie. We'd eat dinner with the kids if they were having chapati, but normally we'd eat in the volunteer house then return for story time and to say goodnight.

Our days followed this pattern but every one was special. The kids welcomed us into their lives so quickly and with so much love. On the first day, we realized that three weeks would not be long enough but we made the most of every moment and every friendship in this unforgettable place.

Ngorongoro Crater

2009-11-14T06:44:00.002-08:00

Early in the morning we descended into the Ngorongoro Crater, the largest caldera in the world created when a volcano exploded millions of years ago. It is now a unique ecosystem with a constant supply of water, making migrations like those of the Serengeti unnecessary. The crater is home to thousands of wildebeests and zebras as well as a variety of birds, antelope and cats. It is amazing to see such large amounts of animals living side by side peacefully, although occasionally, they do eat each other.

On This Serengeti For Two

2009-11-14T06:44:00.001-08:00

Our Land Cruiser rumbled and rambled through the Ngorongoro Conservation Area to the vast plains of the Serengeti. The journey was long but quickly rewarded with unbelievable wildlife viewing.

When we thought the Serengeti couldn't get any better, we had a close encounter with the King and Queen of the Jungle beginning their annual mating ritual.

Cloudy Kilimanjaro

2009-11-12T06:43:00.000-08:00

We stopped in Moshi for a day just to see the snows of Kilimanjaro. When we arrived, the summit was completely covered by clouds. No snows. We left our camera in our room and went for dinner at a rooftop restaurant where a clear day offers great views of the mountain. When we ordered our Kilimanjaro Lagers the summit was still obscured. But about half way through the first round the clouds began to part. Soon we could see the roof of Africa. In the setting sun the peak looked like a Varsity Frosted Orange. We toasted the mountain with our second round and enjoyed the views in the last moments of daylight. The next day we returned to the rooftop for photos but the clouds had returned.

I Stayed At A Farm in Africa

2009-11-08T04:55:00.002-08:00

After the tropical heat of the islands, we were ready to escape to the cool air of the Usambara Mountains in northern Tanzania. We packed into a bus which traversed curvy mountain roads to drop us in Soni, a small dusty intersection with a few shops and people drifting about.

Maweni Farm is two kilometers outside of town at the base of a large rock face. When we arrived, we knew we'd found the perfect mountain getaway. In colonial times the farm was a coffee plantation run by a German family but now it is solely a lodge. The main house where our quaint room was, sat on a small hill next to a lovely pond, home to many yellow weavers. Next to the pond was a huge boulder and some lovely jacaranda and acacia trees. The first night we shared the dining room with two other couples but after that we had the place to ourselves. We had private picnics in the thick grass next to the pond and went for walks along the main road past villagers busily working the farmland or walking from the market.

The day we left, Msheba, the friendly manager of Maweni Farm, offered to drive us the 45 minutes to Lusotho which is a bigger, though still tiny, town higher up in the mountains. He took us all the way to our next destination, Irente Farm, curious to see the accommodation for himself. Unlike Maweni, Irente was still an operating farm producing cheese, bread, juice and jam. The farm belongs to the Luther Church which also runs a neighboring school for the blind, a center for kids with mental disabilities and an orphanage.

The manager, Peter, has gotten the farm certified as a biodiversity reserve and has begun to protect the native plant species in the area. He gave us a tour of the operation, taking us through the farm pointing out native and invasive species before walking us down to the Irente Farm Children's Home. Here we were greeted by a gregarious Swedish woman who gave us a tour and told us a few of childern's stories. We met the young Tanzanian women who volunteer here for two years in order to help pay for future education. The children were precious. We got to feed them lunch before their naps.

Later we walked to the Irente Viewpoint which offers amazing views of the Masaai Steppe. We met a local and watched the sunset with him. Then he invited us to his house which was a small hut right behind the lookout. We met his son and wife, then her sisters. We had a nice visit before heading back to the farm.

Jambo Mambo

2009-11-02T05:10:00.000-08:00

After an uncomfortable overnight ferry ride we disembark in the small port town of Mkoani on the northern island of Pemba. Immediately we feel we are in a different world. Gone are the tourists, hawkers, and crowded streets. We are the only wazungu here and are thankful not to hear any yells for "taxi! hotel! boat ride!". When a man approaches us and says he'll walk us to the Jondeni Guesthouse we are grateful since our guidebook only states it is "on the main road". At the small hostel the kind and helpful manager greets us as if we are the first guests in weeks.

We walk into town along a tarred road which seems out of place for a town where most people travel on foot. We pass the fish market area near the port where in low tide people linger long after the main catch has arrived, digging for clams or cleaning boats. I am especially careful to wear a long skirt and long sleeves here as not a strand of hair or even an elbow is revealed from the local women. We walk down the shoreline in front of small huts where everyone waves, especially children who stare and yell "Jambo!" We return the hello and wave. We walk past a couple's house where the wife is cooking on an open fire and the husband joins us on the beach to practice his English. Walking back through the market area I suddenly hear "Temple!". No, that can't be, I think, and then recognize our hotel manager Mzee. He is likely picking out our dinner for that evening. Knowing we are interested in a beach he tells us to follow the main road past the hotel, down the hill then up and down another, take a left at the soccer pitch and we'll find a nice one. We thank him and quickly set out.

We pass by many houses made of mud and sticks where women dressed in colorful patterns and men in modern clothing keep busy in the afternoon heat. They stare at us suspiciously before we say "Jambo" and they smile and greet us. "Karibu." Welcome. "Mambo?" How are you? "Poa" Good. We continuously exchange these greetings during the walk. The kids scream in excitement at the sight of us and at one point a group follows us down the street laughing and yelling.

Soon we are greeted by Juma, a young local boy who speaks some English. We ask if we we're going in the right direction for the beach. He says yes and begins to lead us. He points out a short cut and suddenly we're off the main road, walking through thick lush jungle with clove farms interspersed. Cloves are the primary industry on Pemba island. Since I have no idea what a clove plant looks like, I'm glad when Juma hands me a bloom and says "clove". He points to other plants and tells us which ones to smell, just like a pro. It starts to rain after ten minutes and Juma points to a cement shelter rather randomly sitting in the middle of someone's farm. "Wait or beach?" he asks. For the camera's sake we decide to wait and the peaceful downpour ends as quickly as it began. Only a few steps further and we are at a small sliver of a beach in the lagoon with not a soul in sight. A rickety dhow sits in the turquoise water and we enjoy the reward of our long hot trek. On the way back we thank Juma and return to Jondeni. That night we eat fresh fish and watch from the porch as the sun sets in the bay.

The following day it's go time once again. Our first hour or so is spent in a minibus to Chake Chake, the main town of Pemba Island. In the dusty square of Chake Chake you can get to most towns on the island by dalaa dalaas which are pick up trucks with benches lining the bed and a makeshift roof for cargo. Drivers wait until people are packed in like sardines before heading off. Soon enough the 602 dalaa dalaa to Konde shows and we are some of the first in. We sit in the front of the flat bed pressed against the cabin. Our packs are tied on top along with bicycles, huge bags of wheat and other luggage. Another fifteen people join us before we set off and at lest ten more passengers are picked up along the way. Babies and old women squeeze in close while some of the men stand on the back bumper holding on. People engage in pleasant conversation, I coo at the adorable baby to my left and, somehow, Clay takes a nap. An hour and a half later we arrive in Konde. It's the smallest town we've seen yet and we find a ride through the Ngezi Forest Reserve on a five kilometer mud road with small lakes in the middle of it. We arrive 20 minutes later at the Kervan Saray Beach, home of Swahili Divers.

The place is secluded on an incredible beach just minutes from some of the most pristine diving in the world. This place was on my list early on but Clay never thought he'd try scuba diving. With no convincing from me, he figured if he ever tries it this is the place. He signs up for a discovery dive which is done in close proximity to a Dive Master and requires no certification. I am excited and nervous for him. The next morning, watching him practice the skills in the pool with a Brit couple who were also discover divers, I remember the unnatural and scary feeling of breathing underwater for the first time. I am very proud of his courage to try something that he had said from the beginning did not appeal to him.

Clay goes with the discover divers and I, reluctant to leave him, go down with another group. The views are incredible. We don't see the sharks or dolphins of South Africa but the colors and varieties of coral are astounding. Our first dive is along a wall of coral that falls incredibly deep. There are beautiful parrot fish, puffer fish, anemone fish, lion fish, starfish, sea cucumbers and moray eels. On the second dive at Manta Point we see more beautiful coral and when the sun breaks through the water everything glows.

After the excitement of diving, we get a ride to Konde and take a minibus instead of the dalaa dalaa back to Chake Chake. The next day we take a flight back to the Tanzanian mainland, another thrill. We take off from the small Pemba airport in an 12 seat airplane from which we see the beautiful green island surrounded by thick coral reef stretch out below us.

Hakuna Matata

2009-10-28T04:55:00.000-07:00

After exploring Stone Town, we head to the northern beaches of Zanzibar. We arrive at Kendwa Rocks after a frantic- to say the least- two hour drive. The beach, complete with palm trees and thatched umbrella huts, is a picturesque paradise so we park cheese immediately and inhale the sea breeze. The next few days have little activity besides lounging in hammocks and swimming in the aquamarine waves next to traditional sailboats called dhows. We stay at Les Tois de Palme, a small group of tucked away bungalows with a restaurant serving what I'm convinced is the best food on the island. Our nights are filled with laughter and octopus, watching sunsets and chatting with Masaai warriors who stroll the beach.

Stone Town, Zanzibar

2009-10-26T04:54:00.000-07:00

Quickly after stepping off the train into chaotic Dar es Salaam, we feel an immediate need to flee to the sandy white beaches of Zanzibar. The next day we board a large ferry for the short ride to the Spice Island. Halfway through the journey, we bump into Tank and Daniel again and decide to surrender to fate and unite. Together, we step off the ferry into the crowded port and received the symbolic Zanzibar entry stamp (Zanzibar was an independent nation until 1964 when it joined with mainland Tanganyika to form present day Tanzania and the islanders cling to their sovereign past).

Afterwards, we head into Stone Town in search of cheap accommodation. Hawkers stick to us wazungu (foreigners) like glue, trying to sell trips or get commission from hotels they recommend. They are very friendly despite their pushiness and we quickly get used to the attention. Hundreds of years ago, powerful sultans ruled Zanzibar which was an important trading port for Africa, the Middle East and India. We enjoy the unique culture and the historical buildings as we snake through the labyrinth of skinny avenues that crawl past stone buildings with the famous Zanzibar doors. After settling in at a cheap hotel, we enjoy our first Kilimanjaro beer and plan our next move.

Soon we head for the water. Inspired by the frequent guidebook photo of young locals diving off walls, we go to the stone wall near the Old Fort. I stay with our bags and the guys leap off the wall. I watch and chat with onlookers, mostly the young boys from said photos. They quickly join Clay, Tank and Daniel who are enjoying the refreshing water. Because of a strong Islamic tradition in Tanzania- and in Zanzibar it's even more prolific- women are covered from head to toe and tourists are encouraged not to bear too much skin. I don't want to offend or shock but the water is too tempting. As soon as the guys come out I hand Clay our stuff and quickly jump in. Just what I needed after a simmering day. I cover myself in a sarong when I leave the water and climb the stone steps. Soon the local kids are doing tricks off the wall and showing off for us. Our Zanzibar adventure has begun.

Next we get some beers and "park cheese" -Tank and Daniel speak for chill- on the local beach. There are several boats tied up to the shore, sunset cruises passing by and local kids enjoying what must be their one millionth swim in the turquoise water. The atmosphere is perfect. We relax on the sand and meet friendly locals who will be selling seafood at the fish market later. One man in particular, Ali, joins our little party on the beach and makes us promise to come to his stall at the market. As the sun drops out of sight our stomachs are growling. We head to the fish market which is surprisingly well-organized. Chefs in white hats are assisted by local fisherman who eagerly help customers choose from the many skewers of fish, octopus, shrimp, crab and lobster. After making our selections, they throw it on the charcoal grill with some coconut bread or falafel. It is fresh and delicious. I have a fresh sugar cane and ginger juice to accompany my barracuda and shrimp. After we are stuffed and happy we walk to Ali's favorite reggae bar to have a few more Kilis and reflect on our new love for Stone Town.

Tazara Express

2009-10-24T02:00:00.001-07:00

It takes 46 hours to get from Kapiri Moshi to Dar es Salaam if the train's on time. We bought our tickets for the journey in Lusaka the day before. They look like 20 year old movie tickets which the woman behind the counter flipped over a few times writing our names and some numbers on each side. On the day of departure, we took a two hour bus to Kapiri Moshi. It's a dusty nothing mining town in the Copper Belt province. The exporting of copper was the reason the train was built in the 70's by the Chinese. As we waited for the train, we reunited with our new friends Tank and Daniel, who we'd been running into ever since Zimbabwe.

The train was scheduled to depart at 4:00 pm but we heard that delays of up to 12 hours were common. However, around 3:30 we boarded the train and by 4:00 we were rolling out of the station. We sprung for 1st class tickets. First class is a four person sleeper, second is a six person, and third is a bench. First class was only about 5 bucks more and we thought the personal space would be worth it. On Tanzanian trains men and women aren't allowed to sleep in the same cabin unless they purchase all four tickets. As the journey began we both had our own personal cabins right next to each other. The Zambian countryside rolled by as we enjoyed the setting sun. After dark, we met in the dining car for a simple meal. Tank and Daniel soon appeared and we drank a few not-so-cold beers from the bar. Later we hung our heads out of the window, looking up at the star filled sky. The middle-of-nowhere Zambia is excellent southern hemisphere star gazing territory.

After a good night's sleep we woke up to another relaxed day of reading and watching villages pass by. We still had the couchette to ourselves. 18 hours into the trip we crossed over into Tanzania. Immigration was handled on the train and, with the visas we got in Pretoria, it was all very smooth. In Tanzania, the small villages and stations became more frequent. At each stop tons of smiling and waving children ran towards the train and women came to the windows selling fresh bananas, onions and potatoes from the baskets on their heads. We bought a few "nye nye", tomatoes, for our sandwiches. We kept on rolling, enjoyed another sunset, and met up with the boys in the dining car for another night of stories.

On the final day, we rode through Selous National Park, the largest in Tanzania, though we just saw a few baboons. As we neared Dar es Salaam we realized we were right on time. Forty-six hours after leaving Kapiri Moshi we arrived, delay-free, in Dar.

The Mighty Zambezi

2009-10-19T04:53:00.000-07:00

Every night at Shoestrings Backpackers in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, they show the video of that day's rafting trip down the Zambezi River. We came back from dinner just as it began to play. The crowd was a rowdy one and it sounded like they had had a blast. The video confirmed this. We hadn't thought much about rafting but after watching the huge rapids we knew we had to run the Mighty Zambezi.

Early the next morning, we climbed down the gorge to our put in just below Mosi-oa-Tunya. In our boat were two Swiss couples and their overland South African guide. We were led by Colgate with his pearly white smile. The big water started immediately and didn't stop all day. We flipped the raft on the sixth rapid called the Devil's Toilet Bowl because of the whirlpool in the middle. Temple's head popped up with a shocked look on her face. Later, Clay took a swim on the longest Class V of the day called Gulliver's Travels.

We both felt at home on the raging river. Even more so when we took out for lunch and were greeted by a local boy in a red shirt that read, "Athens: a drinking town with a football problem."

The last rapid of the day was Oblivion. With a series of three huge waves, it's easy for a raft to cut a complete front to back flip. We hit it perfectly though and the big wave crashed all over us as we sailed safely through. At the take out we thanked Nyami Nyami, the river god, and the Mighty Zambezi for a thrilling and safe passage. Then, we climbed up the steep gorge wall and headed back to Shoestrings to relive it all over again.

(The images in the slideshow are screen shots from the DVD)

Devil's Pool

2009-10-18T04:51:00.000-07:00

Mosi-oa-Tunya was dubbed "Victoria Falls" by David Livingstone in 1855 when he first came across it. Like Dr. Livingstone, we arrived during the dry season. Since the water level was low it allowed us to explore areas of the Zambian falls that were usually under rushing water. Instead of overwhelming mist soaking us to the bone we could see the cliff faces with sheer drops to the mighty Zambezi River below. The loud and impressive falls spill over only half of the gorge the other half was dry for the moment and we hiked along the edge. In only a few months time, tremendous amounts of water will be rushing over our footprints. After about a 30 minute walk along the boulders and through the creeks we approached the Smoke that Thunders. As we did a nice guy in khaki shorts approached us with an exciting offer. Before we knew it we were wading into the water.

Mosi-oa-Tunya

2009-10-16T01:59:00.000-07:00

Mosi-oa-Tunya means "The Smoke That Thunders". The falls themselves are on the Zambian side but for the best views you head to Zimbabwe. Standing on the Zim side of the canyon, you are surrounded by thunder and showered by smoke. We hiked down to see rainbows spanning the width of the gorge, admire the lush surrounding forest, and staggering rock walls. As we approached different viewpoints the thunder rages louder. It's hard to imagine it in the rainy season when the water flow is more than 10 times this volume.

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Chobe River

2009-10-13T01:59:00.000-07:00

We woke up at 5:45 to catch the 6:30 bus from Maun to Nata. The night before we scheduled a cab to pick us up that morning at 6:00. Getting up was more chaotic than normal because we forgot where we put our passports before the mokoro trip. At the same time, Temple was searching frantically for the Deet bug repellant, haunted by the malaria risk. As our bag emptying search ensued, we failed to notice that the cab hadn't shown. We asked the only employee of the backpackers who was up that early but unfortunately he didn't speak much English. We asked if he could call a cab then he indicated he was also looking for a ride into town. So we gave up on the cab but hoped we could catch a minibus to town from the main road, which was a five minute walk from the hostel. With our new traveling companion in tow we walked down the dirt road over the old bridge to the main road. As we neared we flagged down a speeding van. As soon as we saw break lights we all broke into a sprint. When we got to the mini we threw our packs on the roof rack and squeezed in with 15 other passengers half of them school children in uniform. When we arrived at the bus station at 6:36 the bus to Nata was nowhere to be found but at least our bags were still on the roof. We had to wait for the 8:00 bus which turned out to be our lucky break.

Around 8:00 we departed for the four hour drive across Botswana to Nata. The road is almost perfectly straight save for a few potholes and detours. We slept most of the way. Nata isn't so much a town as a gas station at a crossroads. We had the option of squeezing into a hot minibus for a four hour drive on the bumpy road to Kasane or hitchhiking. When we inquired about the minibus we were told that it was already full because the previous mini had broken down. Supposedly, it was easy to hitch to Kasane because everyone in Nata is either headed there or coming from there. I first asked for a ride from a young British couple because they reminded me of us but their car was a compact and filled with supplies. Then I asked two guys in a row who were both from Kasane but not headed home at the moment. I next approached a Land Rover that was completely decked out in safari gear. I asked the driver if he was heading to Kasane. He replied angrily, "Look. You're the second guy to ask me. You guys need to take a look in the back. We're completely full. And, yes we're going to Kasane." I told him to take it easy and walked away.

On the other side of the pump was a BMW SUV filling up. In the drivers seat was a cool looking guy in sunglasses. I repeated my question, sure to be turned away. He was headed to Kasane, further even to the Democratic Republic of Congo. He said he could give us a lift and just needed to rearrange a few things. At first, I thought he was alone but soon Sharon, aka Stone, appeared from the gas station. We said hello and she didn't seem too surprised to see us. It took a while but Jason's amazing repacking job cleared the entire back seat. Sweet, we thought. This is a major improvement from the prospective minibus. We were climbing in when he said, "Patrick, we got two more passengers." We both looked over to see Patrick lumbering towards the car. A sort of South African Ignatius Reilly who we would soon be calling Opa (Afrikaans for grandfather). We had our bags between our feet and on our laps and Temple was squeezed between Opa and me. It was 300 kilometers to Kasane and we couldn't be happier squeezed in with the A/C on full blast and Lauren Hill on Jason's iPod.

We learned only a few details about our new companions. They were all from Jo'burg so we talked about South Africa and how much fun we had there. Jason had work in the DRC and traveled this road a lot. Opa had never in his 62 years left his home country until Jason offered to bring him along on one of his business trips. And Stone and Opa lived in the same house and were friends of many years. Temple enjoyed Jason's soundtrack and Opa and Sharon shared dirty jokes. The five of us were becoming fast friends.

After a bout of pothole weaving we were closing in on Kasane. The three of them had started at 2:00am that morning from Jo'burg and had traveled all the way through Botswana in a day. They were going to continue in the morning and Jason offered to take us to Livingstone, Zambia. I asked Jason if he knew any good backpackers in Kasane. "In Africa, I leave the backpackers to you guys" he said. Jason was a sharp dresser and his BMW had all the bells and whistles. He was clearly a step above bunk beds. We didn't have a real plan for Kasane but we told him we were looking to do a cruise along the Chobe riverfront. Jason said, "Maybe we'll get there in time for the sundowners tonight." We didn't think much of this at the time and were mainly trying to pick out a hostel from our guidebook. Jason said he usually stays at the Chobe Lodge and that maybe we could stay there. Temple mentioned that it may not fit in our budget but we could take a taxi from there to the backpackers. As we drove through Kasane we were reading about places to stay. In our book we read "Chobe Game Lodge, the pinnacle of Botswanan Luxury." Way out of our league.

Not five minutes later we pulled through the gates of the Lodge, a five star resort on the banks of the Chobe River. Jason went to the front desk to check in. He came back and asked, "What's the budget?" Trying not to sound cheap in the pinnacle of luxury, Temple said 50 bucks. Jason said "There's a chalet with three bedrooms so you guys can have one of the rooms." I asked, "Is it in the budget?" "Yes, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out later." Um okay? Jason then asked the concierge about a sundowner cruise for the five of us. A boat was about to pull out so we hurried to put our stuff down in the chalet. A minute later we were on a deluxe booze cruise surrounded by hippos, crocs and elephants. We were laughing at our luck, Opa's jokes, and the antics of the hippos. Jason had his camcorder out and Temple and I were snapping away.

After the cruise, we returned to the chalet to freshen up for dinner. Luckily, we clean up nice. We joined the others for a lovely meal. Over dinner Opa continued to give his life lessons. Our companions were all exhausted from driving since 2:00 am and soon went to bed. Temple and I walked around the lodge and tried to wrap our minds around our good luck. We laughed at what characters they were and marveled at how nice Jason was. Soon we were back in the chalet sleeping in crisp white linens on non-bunk beds.

We woke up at 6:00 the next morning to catch the Jason Express to Livingstone. We all piled back into the car for the short ride to the border. We attempted to hand Jason some gas money but he refused. To enter Zambia you take a ferry and your vehicle across the Zambezi river. We enjoyed the ride knowing we were upriver from Victoria Falls. In all the excitement we forgot we needed US dollars to pay for our Zambian visas, $80 a piece for double entry. At immigration, I asked Jason if we could borrow money for the visas and pay him back in Livingstone. He handed me two crisp hundred dollar bills. Once again we were amazed by his generosity and very determined to pay him back. When we tried to give him the change he said hold on to it until Livingstone. We waited by the car as Jason took car of customs and paid road tolls.

Once we were in Zambia, Jason said he knew a great breakfast spot right next to the falls. Pretty soon we were pulling into another five star resort, this one with an amazing breakfast buffet. I finished eating and ran to the resort bank to get money to pay Jason back for the visa money and some portion of the other expenses he'd taken care of. Meanwhile, Jason, Stone and Opa went to take a quick look at Vic Falls. Back from the bank, Temple and I acted like regulars of the resort and I took a swim in their large pool. When our three compadres returned we walked to the car to get our bags, thanking Jason all the way for everything. When we handed him our email addresses along with the reimbursement he refused the money again. "Have a beer on me." After some profuse thanks and hugs, we said goodbye to these kind strangers as they headed off to DRC. We stood there in the parking lot glad we'd missed that 6:30 bus.

Okavango Delta

2009-10-11T01:59:00.000-07:00

We met our poler Jonas at the put in for our two day mokoro trip on the Okavango Delta, the largest inland delta in the world. Mokoros are traditional dugout canoes that hold two people seated and a poler standing in the back. Unlike other canoes, and because the delta is so shallow, mokoro polers push off the bottom with a long wooden stick as they steer through the reed grass. Jonas was a great guide with an even better laugh. The delta is a quite place. At times the only sound is the pole dipping into the water and the boat parting the thick grass.

We rode for about two hours passing vibrant birds, infinite dragonflies and colorful lily pads. We reached our campsite on an island in the middle of the river. In the midday heat Jonas took us to the local swimming hole. The shallow water was warm from the intense sun but still felt nice. Later, we got back into the mokoros for a sunset cruise to the hippo pool. Along the way Jonas pulled over to track two elephants, tossing sand to test the wind and climbing termite mounds for a better view. We didn't get very close but the chase was thrilling. Back on the water, the sky and delta were already changing colors. The hippo pool was a large open area that was too deep to cross in the mokoros. The hippos wiggled their ears and made gurgling sounds as they surfaced for air. The boat rocked in the hippo waves. Evening bird songs filled the air on our way back to camp.

Can You Drive a Hyundai?

2009-10-09T13:16:00.000-07:00

South African Road Trip 2009 is over. Our trusty Hyundai Accent, "Champagne", carried us safely from Cape Town to Pretoria. Through the winelands of Francshoek to the whales of Hermanus, from the southern tip of Africa and the worlds highest bungee jump to the waterfalls of Tsitsikama and the stormy Drakensberg mountains. She dueled elephants in Addo, snuck passed rhinos in HI and maneuvered around the king of the jungle in Kruger. But what this midsize will be remembered for is her courage, valor and strength on the road to Bulungula Lodge. Where other Hyundais would have turned back she pressed on with the heart of a 4x4. That's why on the day we returned her to Tempest Car Hire we raise a glass of Pierre Jordan bubbly, a bottle she has carried from the first days of our journey, and we say thank you Champagne and God speed.

Working On My ROAR

2009-10-08T06:46:00.000-07:00

Before the sun was up, we were on the trail of an African elephant during a game walk in the granddaddy of them all, Kruger National Park. Led by two rangers with rifles, we learned great tips on animal tracking by examining footprints and a lot of dung.

During the day, we drove the Hyundai around and saw a mother lion with two baby cubs, a herd of buffalo on the water's edge and hippos getting feisty in their local watering holes.

While eating lunch, we sat at a watering hole admiring several species of birds and antelope quench their thirst. We pulled up to a traffic jam of cars watching a male lion in the bush that we couldn't quite see. Suddenly, an older cub walked out in the direction of our car. He showed us that he was working on his roar when he opened his mouth and let out a few very adorable meows. We watched in awe for a few seconds before he turned around and returned to his elders.

In the early evening we climbed into a large safari truck for our sunset drive. Early into the ride, we spotted an adult male lion close to the road. We oohed and awwed at his beautiful mane and piercing yellow eyes. When we thought it couldn't get any better, he got up and climbed the rocks, looking like the true king of the jungle.

In the Clouds

2009-10-07T09:38:00.000-07:00

We woke to dark skies and cold rain on our first day in the Ukhalamba-Drakensberg mountains. With hope and disregard we loaded into the minibus to hike to the Ampitheatre, a five kilometer wide, one kilometer deep rock face. Our fearless leader Sim drove through Free State province with the wipers on high yet maintaining a positive outlook. Hakuna matata. It'll clear up. We reached the trail head. Stepping out into the clouds, we were completely soaked in seconds. One Dutch girl refused to get out, saying she'd rather spend six hours in the van. Visibility was low but the hale and hearty set out on the trek. Six of us with Sim in the lead pushed through, our heads down and wind and rain blowing in our faces. About ten minutes in, a German girl and the Dutch girl's boyfriend turned back. And then there were four. We marched on but as the weather worsened and gusts of cold rain persisted with no hope of clearing, we all decided to turn back and try another day.

Two days later it was still cloudy and cold but the rain and wind held off so we jumped in Sim's van and were determined to get to the top. At the starting point, the cloud cover was incredibly thick. Sim described what we would be seeing had it been a clear day and the canyons and river valley all looked great in our imaginations. After a series of cutbacks we got to a rocky climb straight up to the top of Amp. Once we arrived at the top we enjoyed our cheese sandwiches and hard boiled eggs but no Amp view. I could barely see Temple 20 feet away. She walked across the way curious if there was anything to see besides white. When she turned around she yelled, "I see something!" Yes, the clouds were moving! The Ampitheatre materialized before our eyes. Pure joy. Everyone ran for the rim of the mountain taking pictures furiously of the cliff walls and river valley, not sure if the next wind would obscure the view once again. But the lingering clouds stayed back and actually added to the dramatic views.

We walked along the rim and saw the 2nd highest waterfall in the world though it was just a trickle in dry season. The clouds were moving back in as we made our way off the mountain. We climbed down chain link ladders which were bolted into the rock face. There were two ladders to choose from: the more stable one and the more fun one. Temple was the first on the more stable one and I was next to her on the more fun one. For an added degree of difficulty it began to rain as we stepped onto the ladders. Many people in our group were a little nervous about the descent. I told Sim I was lucky to have a girlfriend without fear. After the climb down it finally cleared for good and we saw all the views that we could only imagine hours before.

Kingdom in the Sky

2009-10-06T06:46:00.001-07:00

From the foothills of the Ukhalamba Drakensbergs, we traveled through the Manontsa Pass to the village of Mafika-Lisiu in the small and very high kingdom of Lesotho. We pulled our jackets tight and walked around the village comprised of small clay houses and rondavels. We climbed into the hills above the town to see ancient San rock paintings which were likely over 2000 years old. After the climb we received our just rewards at the local shabeen, the village brewery. The white flag flying outside a small rondavel told us there was traditional maize beer to be had. Villagers, mostly older, crowded around a fire while a large cup filled with the brew was passed around the circle. It was cider-like, a little gritty and warm but pretty tasty.

After a walk back to the village school, we played with the kids during recess. Most were jumping rope or playing soccer. They were curious and spoke a little English. Not surprisingly, the kids that live in the highest country in the world were just like kids everywhere else.

When school let out for the day we went to meet with the village sangoma who smiled as he answered questions about his job as the traditional healer. He was quiet and soft-spoken but very gracious in his responses, translated by our guide Sim. Afterwards we tried some mealie pap which is eaten all over southern Africa- though under different names. It's like sticky grits that's eaten with your hands and usually with cooked spinach.

Our last stop was the Two Sisters market for some more beer but this one, called Maluti after the surrounding mountains, was a regular lager available only in Lesotho. We bought a large bottle of the hoppy brew and toasted the mountains, the people of the village and the kingdom of Lesotho.

Lion in a Tree

2009-09-27T22:51:00.000-07:00

We had read great things about the Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Game Reserve but only decided two nights before going that we should squeeze it into the road trip. We spent 4 hours driving to Mtubatuba where we stayed the night. We woke very early, getting to the park when the gates opened so that we'd have sufficient time there before our drive to the mountains. We were amazed by how much we saw in the 6 hours we drove ourselves around. Immediately we saw a mammoth white rhino, several giraffes and zebras. Then a nice man told us that in the bush were two male lions just beginning to grow their manes. We were very close to one lion lounging in the shade before we suddenly realized that his brother was 5 feet above him in the tree! This man in the neighboring car was some kind of lion expert and said he'd never heard of a lion climbing a tree, so this was quite rare. It seemed the lion was a curious teenager who enjoyed not playing by the rules and we enjoyed every minute of watching him.

Soon after, we saw a herd of white rhino nibbling on the grass and sending us glances. They all looked to me like they were wearing gray sweat suits because of the gray folds in their skin. We loved watching the peaceful giraffe whose bird friends helped pick bugs off his long neck. The impala had the same friendship with these birds. Later we pulled up to a magnificent cheetah lounging in the shade. We stayed long enough to see him get up, scratch himself on the tree, look around and then resume his napping. In the few strides we could sense his elegance and strength.

Aliwal Shoal

2009-09-26T06:03:00.001-07:00

Since we landed in South Africa I had been looking forward to diving at the Aliwal Shoal, a huge coral reef just south of Durban which is said to be one of the top 10 dive sites in the world. I signed up for two dives, one in the morning and one around midday. It had been a few years since my last dive and I was a little unsure of myself when getting instructions from my dive master Kenny, a young blond guy. After a drive to the beach we boarded a small inflatable dingy that required us to wear lifejackets, strap our feet into the bottom and hold on to a rope on the side in order to make it out to the reef. Hitting huge waves at full speed was very fun and an unexpected thrill for all but my dive buddy Andrew. Andrew, a young guy from Jo'burg, was doing his first ever ocean dive and immediately became sea sick. He would feel better once he was in the water. On the count of three we fell backwards into the water and before I was ready everyone was sinking except for me. I didn't have enough weight on my weight belt to take me down. Great. I signaled the driver of the boat who helped me put two more weights in my BC and pulled me over to the buoy attached to Kenny down below. Of course this whole sudden and unexpected situation frayed my nerves and I had to take a few breaths before my descent. I went down and calmed myself so that I wouldn't use us my oxygen up too fast. The first thing I saw was a small reef shark which was cool but I had to find Andrew.

When I found him we traded hand signals to indicate we were both okay. Then it was time to enjoy the scenery. There were incredibly colorful fish everywhere. The reef was intensely complex and colorful. Some of our companion divers had underwater cameras and Kenny pointed out some rock fish, scorpion fish and a lobster. When Andrew indicated he was at his minimum oxygen limit I said lets go up and I would just tell Kenny. I had been following him closely, knowing it was him by the cord he was carrying which led to the buoy on top of the water. I tapped on his shoulder and an older bearded man's face turned around. That's not Kenny, how strange. We came up and this bearded man laughed and said Who are you and Why have you been following us for 20 minutes? Just great. We'd lost the group. At least we hadn't lost each other, I thought. This group's boat went to go get our driver while we sat in the open turbulent water laughing at ourselves. Our driver came over and helped us out of the water. I was embarrassed but relieved once I saw that the same thing happened to another pair, apparently when this other group intersected ours which was about the time of my late descent.

This shook me up a little but I was determined to go on the second dive so I'd have a better experience. We went out a few hours later and Andrew braved the even rougher seas. I had a liter of water in my ear from the gigantic waves crashing on me but at least I wasn't throwing up on the side of the boat. So we went down this time all together and it was not as crowded with other groups as the previous dive. We landed on sandy ground at the bottom, looked for sharks teeth then moved on to the reef. The different shapes and sizes and colors of fish were amazing. Trumpet fish, paper fish, blow fish, florescent purple fish, blue polka dotted fish, angel fish. I stayed very close to Kenny this time and followed him into a cave where a white tipped reef shark was sitting. They are only about two feet long and not threatening. We moved on and came across a large rag-toothed shark which was the biggest thing I'd ever seen under water. It definitely looked more threatening and we were quite close but it luckily didn't feel threatened by us. We peered into more crevasses seeing eels and rock fish and then I heard a chirp like a dolphin. I swam up and heard someone grunt. There, 20 feet away, were schools of dolphin swimming by singing and encircling us. It was awesome. They seemed to be smiling at us as they swiftly flew past in small groups. When we surfaced and climbed back on the boat the dolphins were all around jumping completely out of the water and swimming really close to us. It was a magical experience to see them underwater and then above. I smiled as waves pounded my face all the way back to shore.

Bulungula Lodge

2009-09-25T10:32:00.003-07:00

Driving to Bulungula Lodge might be the most unforgettable part of our South African road trip. Our journey began on the N2, the highway that runs from Cape Town to Durban. Even though its the major highway in the Eastern Cape, there are signs that read "No Fences for 20 Km" to warn drivers of the cows crossing the road, sometimes alone, sometimes in herds of 20. After dodging cattle we turned off the N2 onto a small black topped road that quickly turned into a pothole minefield. I felt like Han Solo steering the Millennium Falcon through the asteroid field. We dodged the tire-flattening holes for 37 km before coming to the turn-off where our map for the lodge picked up. We confirmed with locals that the building to our right was Nocollege Store and, therefore, the road next to it the way to Bulungula. For 2 rand he said we were heading in the right direction. Pulling away I had a feeling that we might be asking too much of our Hyundai Accent. Although the region is in the middle of a three year drought it had rained the night before turning this dirt road into a mud track. As I drove down the first hill I quickly realized I was sliding. Temple said, "stay to the left." I had to inform her I wasn't in control. The map said continue on the road for 20 km. After 30 minutes the odometer said we had only traveled 1.9 km. But we pressed on waving at every local we saw thinking that at any moment we would be requesting assistance in the form of a tow or a place to sleep for the night. All returned our greetings with broad smiles and waves.

Our strategy of slow and steady was paying off. The kilometers continued to be conquered. As we continued, the opposite of what we thought would happen occurred and the road began to improve although our perspective was a little skewed. The road just got less muddy and the potholes were smaller. We received the unsolicited help of a group of young boys driving a pick-up in the direction of the lodge. We followed closely behind until they pointed us towards the patch of trees where the Bulungula Store was. We pulled into the parking spot where we'd leave our car. The road ahead was only passable by 4x4. We thanked the Hyundai for getting us this far and only asked that she get us out in a few days. We hiked the final 3 km through the traditional Xhosa (pronounced with a click at the beginning) village of Nqileni where hills are dotted with rondavels and animals graze freely. When we saw the Bulungula Lodge sitting at the meeting point of the Xhora river and the Indian Ocean, we knew the journey was worth it.

Immediately, we met the charming Liesel and Albert as well as villagers that worked at the lodge. The village owns 40% of the lodge and all of the activities are run by members of the community so they receive 100% of the proceeds. Albert showed us to our beds in a turquoise rondavel. On the day we arrived the whole village was celebrating the opening of the new school built with the help of the lodge. That evening we had a delicious traditional Xhosa meal with fellow travelers. Some children and parents had gathered around the main area to play drums and listen to music. An adorable 7 year old boy took the floor and busted some incredible moves. Soon there were more participants and we had a good time with locals and tourists shaking hips in the dance circle.

The next day we rose at 5:45 for sunrise pancakes. We walked along the beach with our new Belgian and Dutch friends. Although it was cloudy and started to rain, we enjoyed the views of crashing waves but even more so the delicious pancakes. A few hours later a nice villager who spoke only a little English walked us over hills to another part of the Xhora river for canoeing. We enjoyed rowing through the quiet landscape, seeing the occasional goat or farmer on the riverside.

That evening we had the pleasure of a visit by the sangomas (traditional healers) of the village. A middle aged man led the dance and chants while two older women and a sangoma apprentice danced with him. A lot of children and people of the community were gathered around to watch, drum, sing and chant. Some of the women had white clay painted on their faces, typical of the Xhosa people. The singing and dancing was energizing and we felt blessed be be a part of such a special ceremony.

The next day a nice 22 year old girl from the village gave us a tour of the area. First we visited one of the older female sangomas who we had seen dance the night before. She wore white beads which are traditional for sangomas and a headdress. Some things were lost in translation but her goodwill was obvious. We saw inside of her home where a relative was spreading mud on the floor of the rondavel, which is done every month or so for purification. It was interesting to see the inside of a real rondavel and how the people cook, sleep on mats and keep warm. We met some other nice villagers, saw the two schools, the old silos and the new community center.

Afterwards, we said goodbye to our new friends. We hiked through the village towards the Bulungula Store where our trusty automobile awaited for a long drive out.

We Won't Forget You Either

2009-09-20T10:32:00.000-07:00

Our first encounter with The Big Five came at Addo Elephant National Park where - you guessed it- we saw a ton of elephants. But the park has a lot more than just ellies. They also have the flight-less dung beetle.

We arrived at the park at 6:00 am when the gates opened and drove ourselves around for a few hours before our scheduled game drive. Immediately we saw elephants on the side of the road. We also saw ugly but endearing warthogs, elegant ostriches and beautiful kudus with their meter long spiraling antlers. You can get amazingly close to these gigantic animals. They just continue chewing on the closest bush and sometimes cross in front of your car.

I was excited to leave the driving to someone else and climb into an open air Land Rover for our safari drive through the park. Our driver was not afraid to pull right up to the elephants. The excitement level kicked up a notch when we heard there was a lion down the way. We hurried to get there stopping only to see some elephant babies with their moms. We sped past antelope and ostriches and took a right at the buffalo carcass. And there she was, about 200 feet away just sunning herself and checking us out. After a crowd gathered the lioness headed back into the bush.

Back in the Hyundai we sat for a while at a watering hole watching a family of elephants nap, nuzzle and assert their masculinity.

Heading out of the park, we rounded a corner and saw a huge male elephant walking on the dirt road. It wasn't the first elephant we'd seen in the middle of the road but this one was marching directly towards us. I quickly hit the car in reverse to give the alpha male some space. Our hearts were racing as he continued to advance on us. Finally we got to a part in the road wide enough to pass him. 'What a great way to end the day,' we thought as we continued towards the gate. Not even two minutes later, just as I said the word 'awesome,' an enormous male kudu bounded out of the bush landing almost on top of the car. I slammed on the brakes and it was already back in the air jumping over the hood and landing on the other side of the road, before jumping out of sight. That is why there are speed limits in African National Parks.

Tsitsikamma Jump

2009-09-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

By 10:00 am we were done with bungee jumping and not sure if the rest of the day could compete. With our hearts still racing, we headed to Tsitsikamma National Park where we began the coastal Waterfall Trail hike. After about an hour and a half we arrived at a beautiful waterfall and swimming hole not 100 feet from the Indian Ocean. We were the only people there and the water looked inviting. The second jump of the day was as memorable as the first.

5-4-3-2-1...Bungee

2009-09-19T01:31:00.000-07:00

We were already wearing our harnesses when we walked out onto the catwalk on the Bloukrans Bridge. We looked down through the metal grates at the lush river valley we would soon jump into. Bloukrans Bridge is the highest commercial bungee jump in the world and we were the first jumpers of the day Clay, J1, and Temple, J2.

As our ankles were being tied together we were both surprisingly calm. I hopped towards the edge. Temple said "I love you" and waved goodbye. "Hang your toes over" was the command. That was the hard part, the rest gravity took care of. The crew then showed me the camera hanging six feet in front of my face and they began counting down from 5. 4-3-2-1- and I jumped as far out as I could. The feelings that followed are difficult to put into words. It was very primal.

Southern Tip of Africa

2009-09-18T05:06:00.000-07:00

After clearing up where the true southern tip of Africa was, Cape Agulhas not Cape Point, we made our way there. Although it's the southern most point in Africa it's off the beaten path. At the tip is a stone platform that reads Indian Ocean with an arrow pointing east and Atlantic Ocean with an arrow pointing west. We both climbed up to reach across two oceans. Legend has it that if you pee where the oceans meet its good luck. I arrived with a full bladder to get as much luck as I could. The lighthouse that overlooks the cape was one we had to climb. We went up four large wooden ladders to the top. It was difficult to open the door to the outside because the wind was so strong. We ran around for while before seeking refuge from the gale.

Right Whales, Right Now

2009-09-17T10:31:00.000-07:00

Not a far drive from Cape Town is the town of Hermanus where every spring brings very special visitors. Southern Right Whales swim north from Antarctica to calve and spend around three months nursing. You can spot them from shore and Hermanus' rocky outcroppings are the perfect spot to sit and watch as the whales breach, surface and sail. After Hermanus we went to De Hoop (pronounced Whoop in Afrikaans) Nature Reserve where in front of a coast of white sand dunes we saw 8 whales at a time. We fell in love with these gentle giants.

Saber the Flavor

2009-09-16T10:31:00.000-07:00

Franschhoek doesn't feel like South Africa but a piece of France. That's exactly what the French Huguenots wanted when they settled here over 300 years ago. Now it is one of the leading wine producing regions in the country and it still maintains its old European feel.

We visited Haute Cabriére vineyard, well known for its varieties of champagne. Our sarcastic and gregarious host Takuan von Arnim guided us through his family's cellars which are built into the mountainside. He gave us a history lesson about Napoleon's troops and their favored post-battle past time of sabrage- the opening of a champagne bottle with a saber. After the tour he selected Temple to wield the blade and pop the first bottle of bubbly for tasting.

Temple held the silver sword while he demonstrated that with a light stroke the cork comes off neatly with the neck of the bottle still attached. Before we knew what was happening POP the cork went flying across the lawn.

Power to the Peaceful

2009-09-14T10:56:00.001-07:00

On September 13th, 1989, 30,000 Cape Townians of all races took to the streets in a peaceful protest against apartheid and the holding of political prisoners.

The Cape Town Peace March is viewed by many here as the beginning of the end of apartheid and white rule. Twenty years later, we were lucky enough to be in town as marchers, activists, and religious leaders reunited to remember the march. They looked back on all their accomplishments and discussed the challenges that South Africa faces moving forward. St. George's Church where the march began was filled with historical photos and music. Old friends greeted each other and shared stories of the struggle. In the crowd were young children who will never know a day of apartheid and elders who so recently only dreamt that one day they'd know freedom. Carol Carlos remembered 20 years ago calling for "freedom in our lifetime" and not knowing if it would become a reality. Now, two decades later, she reminded the assembled group how much they had changed and that if they all worked together none of South Africa's problems were too large to solve.

It was a moving day after a moving week of visiting the Apartheid Museum, District Six Museum, and Robben Island all which reinforced the presence of injustice in the world and the power of people to overcome it.

Robben Island

2009-09-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

During apartheid, South Africa's national rugby team the Springboks were a symbol of white oppression. Rugby was a white sport while soccer was the preferred sport of black South Africans. But in 1995, newly elected President Nelson Mandela changed that. During the Rugby World Cup finals which were held in Johannesburg, Mandela donned a Springboks jersey as he walked onto the field in front of 65,000 Afrikaners, many who still believed he was a terrorist. But soon the entire stadium was chanting the new president's name. Mandela felt that making South Africans of all colors Springbok fans was one of the first steps in healing the nation.

So it was fitting that 14 years later we would watch the same two teams battle for another trophy, this time the Tri-Nations Championship. Standing in front of the Nelson Mandela Gateway to Robben Island watching the jumbotron at 9:00 am, the bar was filled with faces from the new South Africa. People of every color were pulling for the green and gold. Just like in 1995, the Springboks defeated the All Blacks in a thrilling match that went down to the last second.

From one former symbol of white oppression to another. After the game we headed to Robben Island, the political prison were Nelson Mandela, lovingly called Madiba by most South Africans, spent 18 of his 29 years in prison. Just like the Springboks, a past symbol of hate is now a memorial to the strength of the human spirit. Former prisoners give tours of the same cells that used to hold them. The tours are living history as the actors in the drama remind visitors from all over the world of their struggle for freedom.

Climbing the Table and Lion's Head

2009-09-12T10:52:00.000-07:00

Table Mountain and Lion's Head are icons of Cape Town. Days don't get much better than the one we had climbing both.

Mama Africa

2009-09-11T02:48:00.000-07:00

In Cape Town, Long Street is the spot for nightlife. We headed down on Thursday night in search of live African music. We found it at a bar called Mama Africa. The band was rocking when we got there and the place was packed. For a few songs we were smashed against the cigarette machine but then we saw a Scottish couple sitting at a table on the front row with two open seats. We asked them if we could join. We were among the band as they continued to jam on large wooden xylophones, a variety of drums and a horn section. The Scots couldn't have been nicer as we talked to them during a set break. The band returned and played more traditional songs along with some Marley and soul.

We can only imagine that each night they pull an unsuspecting tourist on stage to make them dance and look like a fool. Tonight, it was going to be different. At first, the small lead singer asked the Scottish girl to come up but she declined. Temple could barely contain her excitement as she knew she'd be the next choice. She eagerly accepted the offer and was quickly on stage in between two men she was easily a head taller than. The music started and the three began swaying back and forth. Soon they started putting Temple through the paces. Each new move they showed she was right in step, looking as if they had been practicing for weeks. I wasn't surprised by this but everyone else couldn't believe their eyes, especially the band. The moves got more challenging and complex but Temple didn't missed a step and if she did she'd freestyle an even better move.

As I sat there watching her dance it took me back to the earliest moments of our courtship, how amazed I was by her moves, spirit, and laughter. I tried to put myself in everyone else's place seeing this amazing force for the first time. Like I was at Deborah's wedding and 18th Street Lounge, everyone was smiling ear to ear.

For a second it felt like the song would never end, but it did. The place went wild. And after a few bows Temple made her way back to the table. The amazed Scot said with his jaw on the floor, "you've done that before!" Temple's dance instructor came over to give her a hug and told her "most nights I do that for me, but tonight that was for you."

To The Point

2009-09-11T01:47:00.000-07:00

The drive from Cape Town to Cape Point feels like you're heading down US-101 as the highway runs in between the raging coast and rising mountains.

African Penguins

2009-09-10T02:47:00.000-07:00

Our first stop on the drive down the Cape Peninsula was The Boulders, a rocky beachfront home to one of only two mainland penguin colonies in the world. The little African penguins were gathered on the boulders, relaxing in the sun or the shade of a bush or waddling around in the sand. They looked right at us and were very adorable in their handsome tuxedos. Some of the birds were molting, which is when they shed old feathers and grow new ones. There were some fluffy gray babies too. They were mostly quiet but would suddenly all wail like donkeys (which is why they used to be called Jackass Penguins). Their human characteristics were fun to watch. In a line on the rocks they followed each other one by one into the water, sometimes giving apprehensive glances to friends before jumping in. Several of them waddled on their own and sometimes looked forlorn but mostly they were a happy bunch. After visiting for a while, we marched our happy feet onward to Cape Point.

Kirstenbosch Gardens

2009-09-09T23:46:00.000-07:00

Outside of Cape Town lies the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, a large spread of native South African flowers that covers the lower east side of Table Mountain National Park. Nice trails take you through the different species of flora and signs explain the rare and distinct fynbos which means 'fine bush' in Afrikaans. These flowers dot the landscape of the Cape Peninsula and many are only found in the Western Cape region. The pincushion flowers were my favorite, in several colors and great names like scarlet ribbon which perfectly described its petals. Kirstenbosch was the first botanical garden to become a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Shosholoza Meyl

2009-09-09T08:21:00.000-07:00

We boarded the teal, yellow, and purple Shosholoza Meyl in Johannesburg for an overnight ride to Cape Town. Our cabin, 4F, was a four person sleeper and we lucked out having it to ourselves. We quickly got comfortable and took naps as the train chugged out of town. A young waiter stopped by to see if we wanted anything to drink. He got to telling us about his true passion, journalism, and said he was working towards going back to school. We wished him luck. Soon our tickets were checked by two jolly fellows. We were still rolling through the Jo'burg suburbs when we met our neighbor in 4G, a cute and very quite boy named Sedu. He would peak in our window or stand at our door staring at us before ducking out of sight or busting some dance moves. As the South African landscape passed by our window, Temple did a lot of research to plan out the coming weeks. When dinner time neared we walked up two cars to the dining car. We felt pretty classy enjoying our meal with a glass of red wine on the rails. Later, we made our way back to our cabin which was now set up for sleep with heavy blankets that we would need in the unexpectedly cold night. The next day we continued making our way to Cape Town slowly and around two we pulled into the station. It had been one of the smoothest trips of the journey so far.

South Africa is Great But

2009-09-04T11:20:00.000-07:00

There is no wifi. We have many adventures to share. The posts are ready to go and we'll put them up as soon as the signal's strong enough. Stay tuned...

The Girl Swam Ipanema

2009-09-01T11:14:00.000-07:00

Our nights in Rio were filled with seedy barrios and samba music. At a hidden bar in Lapa, walls are painted with images of legendary local musicians. We watched from a perch above the patio as musicians sat around a table playing all types of percussion instruments: the pandeiro, cavaco, tan tan, bongos, metal tipped drums, and one we called the wikky wikky for the great noise it made. Sharing each others company, they were oblivious to the hip-shaking crowd gathering around them. The next night we went to see Bossa Nova at Rio Scenarium, a three leveled club with a bohemian feel. We watched the band play before joining the lively crowd on the dance floor.

Our days were spent on the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema. Copacabana is a massive curved beach that sits under the Pão de Açúcar mountain. On the other side of a rock fortress is Ipanema beach, a stunning setting with Rio's green mountains in the background and cool turquoise water that was hard to leave. The beach was packed with groups of people playing soccer and showing an unbelievable amount of skin. We had to pull ourselves away from the sandy paradise to go to Rio's 200-year-old botanical gardens with plant life from around the globe. From the gardens we spotted Jesus overlooking the city and knew that was where we needed to be for sunset. After taking a bus to Corcovado Mountain, we hopped on a trolley going up a large incline to get to the giant Jesus with his arms spread over the city. The view was an amazing panoramic of Rio sprawling over different hills and peninsulas. As the sun set, Jesus turned orange and we enjoyed the last few moments of daylight before heading down for another night of music.

Soules Bahia

2009-08-29T17:11:00.000-07:00

The Soules family of Salvador keeps a busy schedule. Whether it's Camila working the graveyard shift at a fancy hotel before going to college or Catarina spending three hours on the bus to and from work or Linda commuting all over town teaching English to Brazilian doctors. Luckily for us they made time in their jam-packed week to show us around their beautiful city. We quickly adapted to the Brazilian way of life as they fed us delicious fare and made room for us in their warm and loving home. Whenever they could, they took us around town, to the historic fort, the local beach, and their favorite restaurant. We enjoyed the great views outside their apartment of the beautiful Bahía de Todos Los Santos. We began to feel a part of their family, joining in their constant laughing and teasing of one another while lounging in the living room. We even started to get into the wildly popular Brazilian soap operas.

Both girls were so nice to introduce us to their friends who were all very welcoming and fun. Even after their long days, the girls took us out to live concerts, dance performances and reggae clubs. Our last day was Sunday when all three Soules' had the day off so the five of us took a day trip to Praia de Forte with Camila's friend Jaime and Catarina's friend Leo. We hung out on the beach, had a great lunch and checked out a sea turtle conservancy.

After such an incredible time it was hard to say goodbye but we were glad to give Camila her room back. We can't imagine our trip to Salvador without these three wise women to guide us around and we can't wait to head back for Carnival to party in the streets with Linda.

Forbidden Fruit

2009-08-20T19:02:00.001-07:00

Back in May, I got an email from my food lovin' Japan livin' cousin Zack. The subject read "Urgent: Please Eat Cashew Apples." We were in Bolivia at the time and there were no cashew apples to be found but we told him we'd keep our eye out for them.

Flash forward to Natal, Brazil, home of the world's largest cashew tree. One morning at breakfast, Temple was perusing the fruit bowl and came across an odd looking fruit. Holding it up to show everyone, I quickly realized that it was the cashew apple we'd been looking for. The apple part looked more like a red bell pepper and the skin was very tender. I ran back to the room to get the camera so I could show Zack our discovery. I took some nice still lifes and left it safely in the fruit basket.

Later that day I saw Zack online and told him we'd found the cashew apple. His first question was, "What does it taste like?" I ran downstairs to ask the guys in the kitchen if the apple was still there. It was. Then I asked them if it was safe to eat. Smiling, they said yes. I went back to the room so we could fully document the event for Zack. I first bit the apple part, it was very juicy and tasted like peppery apple juice. Not wanting to hog the deliciousness, I shared it with Temple.

After we had our fill of the odd flavored juice we turned our attention to the nut on top. Temple tried to pull it off but couldn't. Then I tried to bite it off. As I did, the protective oil from the cashew nut got all over my lips and they began to tingle. Suddenly, I recalled a description of the raw cashew nut. The oil is the same as is found in poison ivy. Pretty soon the tingle turned into a burning. I quickly chugged 2 liters of water. I went back down to the kitchen to ask them what was happening. They were all laughing as I told them my mouth was on fire. Nicely, they cut up some bread for me to chew on. The bread helped the pain but my lips were swollen and white. Soon the top layer of my lip skin would begin to peel off. A few days later, a rash appeared on my left hand, swelling my fingers so that you couldn't see my knuckles, while my eyes also started to puff up.

Two weeks after eating the cashew apple my lips and fingers are back to normal. If you ever find yourself in front of a fruit basket with a funny looking apple with a nut on top, please roast the cashew to neutralize the poison before eating.

Com Emoção

2009-08-20T18:55:00.000-07:00

When Dad and Mary came to visit us in northeastern Brazil we were all ready for an adventure. On the first day of travel we read about the "must-do" dune buggy ride on the sand dunes of Natal. Mary called to book the trip for the following morning. Our guidebooks explained that the drivers could guide you through the dunes "sem emoção", without emotion (aka in a calm, safe manner) or they could drive ferociously and very fast, "con emoção" or with emotion. I was ready to request "sem emoção" for my parents' sake thinking it would be fun either way. That night we discussed the plans for the next day. "Surely they'll pick us up in a car to transport us to the dunes. They won't pick us up in one of those buggies, right?" Mary asked me. "No, I'm sure there will be a car or van" I answered.

At 7:30 the next morning Clay and I walked out of the hotel where a miniature open-air blue dune buggy sat awaiting us. We looked at each other, then turned around to see the looks on Dad and Mary's faces. Priceless. We had no choice but to squeeze into the buggy, Mary in the front passenger seat with our jovial driver Marcos, who liked to joke that this was his first tour. Dad, Clay and I were in the back apprehensively looking up at rain clouds while holding on to the large metal bar in front of us, the only safety guard we had. I leaned over to Marcos and said, "Por favor, without emotion." Marcos replied, "Without emotion, without life!" and sped off.

Soon we were next to vans and trucks on a two-lane highway in what felt very similar to a golf cart. We drove over a large bridge while the rain pegged our faces. We first climbed up some dunes with some beautiful small lagoons between them. Then we crossed a river on a small wooden raft pushed by a man with a large stick. It was a small river. As the sun came out, Marcos took us to the Genipabu dunes where we sat on planks of wood resembling snowboards and slid down a large dune. Dad and Mary let the adventurous spirit move them and tried sandboarding themselves. Clay and I slide down into a small pool of water at a different locale and the best ride was saved for last: the aerobunda, a swing on a zip cord that whizzes you down and into a big lagoon.

After a Brazilian BBQ feast and a few coconut waters, we thought we'd had a very exciting and full day. "We have one more stop," Marcos said. After driving through backroads we arrived at the Parque Das Dunas, an ecological park of pristine sand dunes that looks like a desert. We were enjoying the view of the city and the solitude of the dunes when Marcos sped up heading straight for a sheer drop and we all screamed as we plummeted down! The buggy seemed ready to capsize but slid sideways down the dune before we sped up again. We went up a huge side of a dune, took a sharp left turn and fell straight down, still on our wheels, though barely. The "emoção" had just begun. Marcos took us on a rollercoaster ride up and down the dunes. When we thought we'd ridden the scariest possible dune he'd shoot us down the side of another one. We were all screaming with laughter and holding on for dear life! It proved to be worth it and the surprise factor made it all the more exciting. Dad and Mary were thrilled with the experience, to my relief, and soon we were all yelling for more. We laughed all the way back to the hotel.

The next two days in Natal weren't a roller coaster ride, but definitely fun. We went to Pipa Beach where we took a boat into the turquoise water to spot dolphins. Then we walked along the beautiful cliffs above the beach. We went to an ecological park where our wonderful guide Eddie taught Clay how to snack on termites. We spotted sea turtles and enjoyed the views. The next day we went for a snorkeling adventure at Praia de Maracajaú where we saw a lot of fish, some eels and an octopus! We had fabulous seafood and fruit during our entire stay and were sad to leave Natal. In Fortaleza, we enjoyed walking along the main stretch to see the markets, boats, volleyball, and capoeira dances along the beach. We loved Morro Branco where stunning fiery rock walls jut out overlooking the beach. We had an amazing time with Dad and Mary and want to thank them again for giving us an incredible adventure con emoção!

Amazon Beauty

2009-08-19T14:56:00.001-07:00

With so many great pictures from our Amazon experience we made a bonus slideshow.

Ver-O-Peso

2009-08-14T13:20:00.001-07:00

Ver-O-Peso fish market takes place every morning in Belém, Brazil. At the mouth of the Amazon, the river shows its size and diversity in each daily catch.

Port of Santarém

2009-08-14T13:19:00.001-07:00

At the confluence of Rio Amazonas and Rio Tapajós is the city of Santarém. Lying halfway between Manaus and Belém, its entire river front serves as a port for the various boats passing by on their way up or downriver. You can walk for a mile along the boardwalk and see boats covering every inch of shore. During the day, people are in constant motion loading and unloading goods and preparing for the next voyage.

Big River

2009-08-12T17:22:00.000-07:00

Our hammocks were strung up on the second deck of the San Marino for a two day journey from Manaus down the Amazon to Santarém.

An Evening at Teatro Amazonas

2009-08-10T06:22:00.001-07:00

It's not what you expect to find in the middle of the rainforest but it's there. When you walk into the great hall, it feels like you are stepping out of the Amazon and back in time. Built in 1896 during Manaus' rubber boom, the opera house is an opulent reminder of past glory days. Over the years Teatro Amazonas had fallen into disuse and disrepair. But in 2001 plans were underway to restore and reopen. Ever since, it has been hosting concerts, operas, plays and more. On the night we attended, there was a free modern dance performance but it was the building that stole the show.

The Mighty Jungle

2009-08-09T10:56:00.000-07:00

We headed out to the Amazon in search of beauty, wildlife, and adventure. On the first night as we swam in the river turned orange by the setting sun, we knew we had found all three. And there was more to come...

Un Pequeño Paraíso

2009-08-05T12:40:00.001-07:00

Normally, you take a ferry to Playa Blanca from Cartagena's harbor. It's very straight forward; you get on the ferry, you get off at the beach. But they don't run on Sunday. On Sundays you have to take a bus to Pasacaballos, then a ferry across the Rio Magdelena, then a taxi across Isla Baru.

As we're walking down the street looking for the bus stop, Temple sees a red bus with Pasacaballos on the windshield and waves it down. It's a 1960's era bus and we're the only ones on it. As we weave through the outskirts of town we get a tour of market day here: everything's for sale and everyone's in the street. We stop in the middle of the madness. The bus fills with passengers and vendors, selling lemonade and snacks. I share my seat with two little kids. As we pull away a guitar player jumps on board and serenades the bus with popular tunes. Everyone sings along.

After riding for a while we arrive in a small town where a sign reads Ferry Turistico. We hop off the bus and are greeted by a man with a sign reading Playa Blanca. He leads us to the river and points to a large wooden canoe. "Dos mil pesos" to cross he says. One dollar. A shirtless old man with a long pole pushes us slowly to the other side where a fleet of motorcycles are waiting. Turns out the taxis we need to take are mototaxis. Before I get out of the boat Temple is already sitting on the back of one with her huge backpack on. I jump on another. I think my driver is jealous of his friend's luck. The ride is long, dusty, and bumpy, but we can't help laughing as we speed along side by side across Isla Baru.

When the road ends, our drivers point down the hill. We walk down and see Playa Blanca. It is worth the trip. We walk along the beach to find D&E Hammocks, a simple structure with hanging hammocks covered in mosquito nets. We claim two hammocks and the palm leafed cabana closest to the water. We basically have the place to ourselves. We spend the next few days reading, swimming, snorkeling, eating fresh fish, and enjoying sunsets.

Walls of Cartagena

2009-08-05T12:39:00.000-07:00

When the Spanish ruled the Caribbean, Cartagena de Indias was the jewel of the empire. All the silver from Peru and gold from Mexico came through the port on its way to Spain. With all these riches it was a pirates dream, but also feared because it was known as one of the most impenetrable fortresses, defended by huge fleets. Very few buccaneers dared challenge its walls and firepower. But famously, Sir Francis Drake with backing from the Queen of England, sacked the city in 1586, holding it for a month before receiving a ransom of 200 million dollars. Today, the pirates and treasures are gone but you can see why someone would fight over it.

The people, the buildings, and the wall around city are reminders of Cartagena's long past. The wall which once kept people out is now where locals come to watch the sunset, fly a kite, play futbol, or just to be with friends.

Machu Picchu

2009-07-24T10:21:00.003-07:00

We awoke at 4:45 am to get in line for the bus to Machu Picchu- a long line of people hoping to get the first glimpse of the famous Inca citadel. As we climbed towards Machu Picchu, the surrounding mountains were covered in thick cloud creating an eerie and mysterious aura. As we entered the ruins, we could only see the Inca formations through a cloudy haze. After an hour, the fog begin to lift and the majesty of Machu Picchu finally revealed itself.

In the background, Huayna Picchu mountain towers over the massive fortress of Machu Picchu which in its hey day hosted the Inca king and his family. Felix gave us a tour of the ruins, including the Temple of the Three Windows, the Temple of the Condor and the Temple of the Sun. He explained how slaves built the terraces and how they transported and smoothed the rocks for construction. It is believed that during the time the Incas abandoned the fortress to keep it hidden from the Spanish, it was still under construction.

We walked around the metropolis for hours, absorbing the energy and magnificent views of the city. We marveled at its scale and the strength of its people who, through personal sacrifice, protected it from destruction.

Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu

2009-07-24T10:21:00.001-07:00

I was lucky to have my two friends Lorie and Lindsay Coker join me for the 5 day Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu. This trek is sometimes called "the other Inca trail" and it took us through the highlands of the Andes to a challenging climb between the magnificent Huamantay and Salkantay mountains. After descending through cloudforest and rainforest we would arrive at Aguas Calientes, the gateway to the incredible ruins of Machu Picchu.

A Canadian named Vaughan joined us along with our guide Felix, nicknamed "Gato", a cook, Herbert, and two porters, Fabian and Tomas, who were very appreciated for the endless support and great food they provided. Every day we had three vegetarian meals with fresh local vegetables and fruit. Before dinner we played cards and we went to bed after taking in the beautiful stars and llama constellations that we'd never seen before. Besides a day pack, the majority of our things were carried by strong mules which Herbert, Tomas and Fabian lead past us everyday in order to set up lunch or camp for the night.

When we asked Felix, what the name of our outfitter 'Apus Peru' meant, he said that 'apu' is the spirit or god of a mountain and each mountain in the Andes has its own apu. We found this word and belief pervasive in the Peruvian culture and eventually in our own minds after facing the majestic mountains ourselves. Salkantay mountain is the second highest mountain in the Peruvian Andes at 20,569 feet. After acclimating at our first campsite, we spent 3 hours scaling a mountainside of intense switchbacks to arrive at the Salkantay Pass- a 15,000 foot plateau between Huamantay and Salkantay. It was extraordinary. The glacial peaks were engulfed in violent white cloud and there was a stillness in the space between the mountains. Perhaps it was due to the 50% less oxygen available but the view was absolutely breathtaking.

As we descended, the scenery was no less beautiful. We passed huge boulders covering steep hills, tranquil streams flowing past small straw homes, and eventually the start of the jungle. We welcomed the colorful flowers and vegetation as much as the abundant oxygen in the air. After camping in the rainforest, we continued our descent drawing closer and closer to a raging river. At our third campsite we went to an expansive hot springs where we had our first bath in three days. The next day we walked into the town of Aguas Calientes along train tracks where we had beautiful views of Machu Picchu and Huaynu Picchu. We had a celebratory last dinner together in the town before heading to bed in anticipation of the climactic Inca ruins the next day.

Sacred Valley of the Incas

2009-07-24T10:13:00.000-07:00

With Cusco as our base camp, we set out to explore the Sacred Valley of the Incas, a vast landscape with incredible Inca ruins that scale mountains along the Urubamba river valley. Our first stop was Pisac, a fortress built high on the mountainside above a small town. We climbed up for hours among large terraces the Incas built for agriculture and to prevent erosion. After some grueling switchbacks, we arrived at castle-like buildings called Pisaqa where curving walls with finely shaped windows peer over the valley. We followed a path to Intihuatan, a large group of temples with beautiful rock masonry. There were water channels, solstice markers, and rock walls that were awe-inspiring. We walked through a tunnel to the Q'Allaqasa military fort which we explored before starting our descent, passing a group of dilapidated buildings that once housed Inca families.

The next morning we explored the Moray ruins. After a surprisingly short bus ride, we got off in what we thought was Cincero, a gateway town to the ruins, but which was actually a small town 30 minutes short of Cincero. Luckily, we hitched a ride with a nice Peruvian man who stopped to show us a beautiful lookout before taking us all the way to the ruins. The Moray ruins are a series of circular terraces that form several amphitheaters. Each level is said to have its own micro-climate. Clay stood in the bottom circle while I stood on the top level and, through song, we experienced the auditory depths of these mystifying ruins.

After climbing out of Moray, we jumped into a cheap 'colectivo' on its way to Ollantaytambo, which, although terrifying, got us to the town in record time. From the town we approached the ruins which spanned both sides of the valley walls. Ollantaytambo is a temple fortress believed to have been the home of Emperor Pachacuti who was the reigning Inca king during the building of Machu Picchu. The enormous rocks were carried up the steep mountainside and then shaped into smooth sturdy walls. Several rocks were left unfinished, reputedly because slaves quit in the middle of what must have been a near impossible construction project.

On day three of our self-guided Sacred Valley tour, we rose at 6:00am to ensure an early arrival at Sacsayhuamán. This beautiful fortress -or temple, experts disagree- of humongous limestone boulders carved in unique forms to create earthquake-proof walls. The largest of the stones weighs up to 200 tons. We walked along the undulating terraced walls and imagined what an intimidating and massive fort it must have been 1000 years ago.

After wandering for days among steep terraces, huge rock walls, and massive fortresses, the mystery and the majesty of the Sacred Valley of the Incas stays with you.

Birthday in Cusco

2009-07-15T00:40:00.000-07:00

We had heard about possible Peruvian roadblocks ever since Villa Tunari. People were saying that the road between Puno and Cusco was closed and nobody knew when it would reopen. We got different information from everyone we asked so we decided to try our luck and head to Puno. On our bus ride from Copacabana, the bus driver assured us that the road was open until the 7th when there would be another strike. We had enough time to visit the islands but we wanted to to get to Cusco before the situation changed. We decided to take a night bus on the 3rd which left Puno at 10:00 pm. We knew it was only 6 hours to Cusco but we hoped the driver might take it slow so we wouldn't get in at 4:00 am. He didn't- the driver sped the whole way and we got in at 3:30am. Temple had made a reservation at a hostel and emailed the owner Eddie that we'd be getting in late/early. He said it was fine and that he would wait for us around 4:00. We got a taxi from the bus station. Many of the streets in Cusco deadend at stairs so our driver dropped us off at the stairs closest to the hostel. We climbed up and found the blue door to Hospedaje Samaq T´ikaq.

We rang the doorbell. No response. Rang again. Nothing. It's 4:00 am and we have nowhere else to go. Then we heard a voice, "Are you staying with Eddie? I'm amigo of Eddie." Channing was just leaving a local bar when he saw our predicament. He walked over to the blue door, rang the bell and banged a few times. Then he said, "Eddie is dreaming in other world." Temple had written down Eddie's number, so we walked down to the plaza to find a pay phone. Thankfully, Channing had change to use for the machine since we only had bills. Turns out that the pay phones are difficult to work or Channing was just really drunk. After a few times of getting the coins returned, we got the phone to ring. Unfortunately, we called a random lady asking for Eddie. After more failed attempts at dialing, Channing said he knew a place we could stay. Bravely, we followed him across Plaza San Blas and down the hill. We became quiet after we took a left down a dark street. We continued to walk as Channing told us that his mother always said he was an angel without wings. We hoped so. We finally arrived at an even darker alley, which he said was the place. Once again we followed.

At 4:30 he rapped on someone's bedroom window. "I have two travelers who need a room." A light came on and soon the front door opened to a sleepy-eyed Don Pedro. We thanked him repeatedly as he showed us to our room, a cosey place with two twin beds. We continued to thank him and Channing profusely before quickly falling asleep. We awoke the next morning to talking and cheering outside the door- turns our it was Mrs. Pedro's birthday. Still confused about last night -and a bit embarrased about the hour- we said good morning and left for the day to explore Cusco.

After a day of plazas, churches and museos we returned to our hospedaje. Pedro's daughter said "perfect timing we were just about to sing." We assumed that after a day of partying they were going to sing Happy Birthday. As the family began to gather in the hallway, we suddenly heard music coming from the once dark alley. An entire mariachi band, complete with sombreros, was playing outside and the birthday girl was loving it. She even took the sombrero off of the lead singer´s head to wear it. After a few songs we applauded, thinking it was the end of the show but they continued playing while they entered the house. Mama and Pedro started dancing, then she danced with her grown children, then her grandchildren. Then she grabbed Temple on to the dance floor. Finally, it was my turn.

When she had danced with everyone in the house. Pedro sang her a love song backed up by the band. Everyone then went to the backyard for celebratory Pisco Sours. We gave "saluds" to the birthday girl and the family toasted us and the 4th of July. They had a never ending supply of Pisco Sour and kept refilling our glasses for more saluds. The band had changed out of their costumes and were cracking jokes and drinking. The guitar player turned out to be one of Mama's sons. Soon dinner was served and the celebration continued. Everyone insisted that we eat and drink more. They told us about their family, we told them about our travels.

We couldn't believe that less than 24 hours before we were homeless in Cusco and now we had found a family.

Family Time on Amantani Island

2009-07-12T01:01:00.000-07:00

After a three hour boat ride on Lago Titicaca, we arrived on Amantani island where 800 Quechua families live in adobe houses on small farms. Most of the people grow quinoa, wheat, potatoes or beans. There is no electricity or cars on this 4-mile-long island. The locals run a collective whereby they bring tourists to the island and house them on a rotating basis to supplement their traditional lifestyles.

Clay and I were set up with the Quiespe family to spend the night and experience their way of life. We first met 23 year-old Maria Luz whose adorable son was always close behind. Her mother, Benita, was the main cook and handicraft designer of the family. The women were both beautiful with long dark braids, large cheek bones and big smiles. Luckily, they all spoke Spanish so we could converse and really get to know them. We were shown to our charming, spacious room through a four foot blue Malcovich door and shortly after were greeted by Alonso, the man of the house. He was very gregarious and immediately welcomed us into his family. "Our family is 5, but now it is 7," he said. Their son Americo was away at school in Puno and Ruth Maria, their 13 year old daughter, would return later that night from a sports match at the nearby island of Taquile. Alfonso was eager to take us around the house. He showed us the different potatoes they grow- in Peru there are hundreds of types of potatoes- in addition to beans and corn. We saw his flock of sheep and the section of the house he is currently building with adobe bricks. The house had one small solar panel which gave them the little electricity they needed. The whole place was very charming and peaceful.

We went to the small kitchen for a lunch of quinoa soup followed by cooked potatoes and a cheese and vegetable salad. We ate alone at the small table but made conversation with the family. Benita brought us fresh mint for tea and then showed us her small collection of stitched hats and bracelets of which we bought several. It was then time to explore the island. Alfonso offered us a ride up to the temples on his and his neighbor´s horses. Clay and I greeted our not-so-friendly stallions, mine named Torpedo and Clay's yellow horse oddly named Chocolate. We were soon being guided by their owners up the steep cobblestone paths while the horses received frequent smacks from sticks- no wonder they were not the friendliest of beasts. The ride was not so relaxing but we were grateful to avoid an hour and a half uphill hike and to be the first at the temple of Pacha Tata.

Pacha Tata and Pacha Mama, Earth Father and Mother Earth, are the pre-Inca temples sitting on the two high peaks of Amantani which are dedicated to fertility. The large hills are covered by small square farms enclosed by four foot stone walls. On the steep stone stairway up to the temple, we were immediately greeted by adorable local children selling bracelets. We bought what we could with what we had left after Benita's wares. At Pacha Tata we enjoyed the beautiful views of the island and the lake. According to legend, if you walk around the temple three times and make a wish to Pacha Tata, it will come true. After making our wishes, we sat to watch the sunset across the lake. We walked up the next hill to the Pacha Mama temple and watched the moon and stars glow as everything else grew dark. Under the moonlight we walked back to Alfonso's house to greet the family for dinner.

Dinner was another delicious quinoa soup and vegetable platter followed by coca mate. Ruth Maria was excited to take us to the main plaza to dance to traditional folkloric music. When we went upstairs to throw on more layers, she followed. She threw a thick wool poncho on Clay and when I bent down to receive my poncho, I realized it was a beautifully embroidered blouse and that I was going to be wearing a traditional Quechua woman's outfit! After the shirt came a thick, red skirt falling in folds to mid-calf, an embroidered striped belt tied high around my waist and a black head scarf embroidered with flowers. All of the clothes were made by Alfonso and Benita and I felt very honored, though bulky, wearing them. We were off to the plaza where a 5 man band played songs with drums and pan flutes while other gringos in traditional garb danced in circles with their new family members. Ruth Maria was a great dancer and we had fun improvising moves and twirling in our skirts.

The next morning, after delicious wheat pancakes, we said our goodbyes to our extremely generous and warm hosts. We took some pictures and shared hugs. We could not say gracias enough for the wonderful experience we had and as we pulled off the dock we waved goodbye to Amanatani and the Quiespe family.

Floating Islands of Los Uros

2009-07-09T01:00:00.000-07:00

We set sail from Puno, Peru on a collectivo motor boat headed to a nearby cluster of floating islands known as Los Uros. Each island is made of hollow totora reeds which the Uros people replenish weekly with new reeds from the lake. The Uros people are one of the oldest surviving indigenous groups in Peru and are thought to be descendants of the Tiwanaku empire. In their incredible world of over 40 islands supporting around 5 families each, everyone speaks Aymara, an official language of Peru and Bolivia. We listened to an explanation in Spanish of how the islands are built with the reeds stacked on top of connected dirt blocks. We visited their small reed houses and took a short ride on a traditional totora reed boat. The experience was otherworldly.

Isla del Sol

2009-07-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

At 12,500 feet above sea level, Lake Titicaca, which means "Gray Puma" in Quechua, is the highest navigable lake in the world. Our boat left early from Copacabana, Bolivia to get to Isla del Sol, the largest and most sacred island on Lake Titicaca. After an hour we arrived and climbed its rocky southern side to see the ruins of Pilco Kaima, a former palace and retreat for the Inca. The origin story of the Incas tells us that the almighty Sun God Inti and the Moon God were born out of Lago Titicaca and Manco Capac, the first Inca and son of Inti, was born on this island. Alejandro gave us a great tour of the ruins and an understanding for the spiritual importance of this place, to which many Aymara and Quechua people make pilgrimages each year. After our return trip we enjoyed a beautiful sunset in Copacabana.

Tiwanaku

2009-06-30T19:42:00.000-07:00

One of the most important pre-Inca civilizations in South America is the empire of Tiwanaku. At its height, it included half of Bolivia, southern Peru, northern Chile and northwest Argentina. Tiwanaku dates back as early as 1500 B.C. while the current archaeological site, a small piece of this once great empire, includes ruins from the 8th to 10th centuries A.D. The early Andean peoples utilized many technologies that would become integral to the success of the Incas: copper smelting, bronze production, solar calendars and a raised field agricultural system. Tiwanaku still maintains its cultural importance to the modern descendants of the Aymara and Quechua people.

The religious significance of Tiwanaku is visible in its temples, monoliths, and other spiritual architecture. Through trade and religious influence, Tiwanaku grew to be the center of the Andean world. Archaeologists speculate that the fall of this empire was due to a devastating drought around 1000 AD. The Incas would incorporate what was left of the people, the land, and the religion of Tiwanaku into their own empire. Much of the remnants of Tiwanaku has been destroyed over the centuries mainly by the Spanish who came spreading Catholicism and destroying images of, what they believed to be, false idols.

The remaining structures of the Tiwanaku empire leaves a lot to the imagination. Alejandro, our very knowledgeable guide, showed us around the archaeological site explaining what is known and what is theorized about these fascinating relics.

Copa Aviary

2009-06-30T19:17:00.000-07:00

In the Copacabana Quarantine Aviary, birds rescued from around Bolivia form the noisiest community of the Inti Wara Yassi animal reserve. The majority of the parrots cannot fly, their wings were clipped for captivity by previous owners. Now they are kept in large cages with their peers. Some birds who are especially handicapped go out on perches during the day and enjoy some special attention.

After two weeks working in the Copa Aviary, I learned a lot about the intelligence of these exotic and beautiful animals. With every "Hola!" and whistle I received as I tended to their cages, I felt a sense of friendship. The birds often helped me try to chase away monkeys coming to steal food, yelling "Fuera!" (Out!) in voices so human-like I often turned to see who was there. I will especially miss my little Loopy, whose loud regular squawks weren't enough to make me want to take him off my shoulder.

Tweeter and the Monkey Man

2009-06-30T19:16:00.000-07:00

Monkey Clinic is the first stop on the road to rehabilitation at Inti Wara Yassi. New capuchin arrivals at the park receive medical tests and veterinarians observe how they interact with other monkeys. Most of the monkeys were abused or neglected as pets therefore they have some trust issues. For those who have lived in captivity, its important for them to work on their monkey skills, like climbing, balancing, and self-defense.

We, Nick from France and I, start each day by letting the monkeys out of their cages, where they sleep, and putting them on runners so they can play. Its great to watch their wide-eyed excitement as they grab for their breakfast banana. We spend the morning cleaning up after a night of monkey bathroom use. Once we are done with poop detail, we play with the monkeys which means letting them climb all over us, pull our hair, and lick the sweat pouring down our faces. In the afternoon we chop down bamboo and banana leaves for them to play with and snack on.

Hopefully all these monkeys will be released into the wild very soon.

Uyuni Salt Flats

2009-06-14T18:19:00.000-07:00

After three days of driving, we reach the Salar de Uyuni, a huge expanse of salt which is so flat and large that it skews reality.

Llamas, Lagunas, and Land Cruisers

2009-06-14T18:15:00.000-07:00

Our backpacks were thrown on top of a Land Cruiser that would be our home for the next 4 days as we embarked on a tour of the Bolivian altiplano. We were joined by a Swiss couple, Peter and Jeanette, our cook, Mariana, and our driver, a safety-conscious, comical Bolivian, Barnaby. From the first moment of the tour, climbing through dramatic mountains out of Tupiza, we were amazed by the expanses of hills, rock walls, leering cactus and frozen rivers. We fell in love with the llamas and then the small children who greeted us when we visited their small pueblos. At an average of 12,000 feet above sea level, the sky and the air and the landscapes feel and look different. At the loud gurgling geysers we felt like we're on Mars, never adjusting to the sulphuric smell. We enjoyed driving through the desert valleys, mountainous inclines, and beautiful lakes like Laguna Verde. Our nights were spent in small rooms with hard beds and several layers of clothing. We ate delicious meals and always felt safe in the hands of Barnaby, who never failed to check the tires at random. When we arrived on the third day at Laguna Colorado, we quietly watched flamingoes dance on water. Among red desert, large rocks sprout out of nowhere; the Arbol de Piedra, Tree of Rock, was fun to climb. The third night we slept in a hostel made of salt sitting at the edge of the Salar de Uyuni. We watched the beautiful moonrise and prepared ourselves for the climactic salt flats the next day.

Celebrating in Tupiza

2009-06-11T07:32:00.000-07:00

It seems all Tupizans flock to the central Plaza on June 4th to celebrate the anniversary of their secluded valley town. In front of government officials, impressive groups of soldiers, students and horsemen parade down the main square holding banners of Bolivian pride. Onlookers include indigenous women, children in school uniforms and large families all stretching to see the show. At its conclusion, the crowd moves a few blocks to a large food market where tamales, empanadas and sausage sandwiches are served to people standing at cooking stations ordering one after another.

Tupiza Expreso

2009-06-04T18:04:00.004-07:00

After anticipating a difficult entry into Bolivia and going to embassies in our last three cities of Argentina to obtain a visa, we had a very easy crossing into the country that only required a fourth of the documentation we had brought. We walked across the border and immediately realized we were in Bolivia when we saw indigenous people selling coca leaves. We walked ten blocks to the train station and only knew we were close when we saw tracks and walked along a wall where we found a nice old lady selling candies who told us "No hay tren hoy." There is no train today. Around the corner, a man at a garage door confirmed, "no hay tren hoy, no manana, tal vez lunes." There is no train today or tomorrow, maybe Monday. It was Wednesday, we decided to take a bus. The bus station was a dark room filled with different company´s booths. All the vendors scream out names of desitinations in Bolivia: La Paz! Potosi! Uyuni! We followed the scream of Uyuni coming from the back of the room. The ticket lady couldn´t sell us tickets all the way to Uyuni but told us we have to go to Tupiza where there´s a bus that will take us on to Uyuni. We bought the tickets for the two thirty bus to Tupiza. We killed the next four hours eating delicious street empanadas from a mean lady, taking out a huge wad of bolivianos from an ATM that turned out to be very little money, walking through un mercado, and eating tasty pollo dorado. As two approached we returned to the bus station.

Most of the buses going to Bolivian destinations leave at the same time so the place was packed. But at 2:30 only one bus to Tupiza had arrived and it wasn´t ours. But hey, this is Bolivia, we were prepared to wait. Then we noticed that the ticket lady for our bus was running across the street to the telecabinas. When she returned we asked her how much longer, "un poco mas" she said. A few British kids who were on our bus the night before told us she said 30 minutes to them. After 30 minutes more had passed Temple asked again and again, her answer was still the vague 30 minutes.

In the meantime another bus called the Tupiza Expreso had pulled up. We asked the woman standing next to the door if there was space for two more people. She said yes and sold us two tickets for only 4 bolivianos, about 50 cents. We got on the bus surprised by the good deal we got and happy to be getting out of Villazón. We sat down in seats 11 and 12. Then we waited for the bus to fill up. We had read that in Bolivia buses wait until they are full to leave. After a few minutes, the bus began to fill up and we figured we´d be moving shortly. A woman got on and told a father and son sitting across from us that they were in her seats. How did she know? We checked our tickets for seat numbers but found none. Then two travelers from Israel told us we were in their seats, showing us a blue ticket stub we were never given. By now the bus was nearly full when we found oursleves seatless. We realized why we´d gotten such a cheap deal on the tickets and we thought we should get off and wait for our original bus. Just then, the bus moved in reverse. We were stuck.

We headed to the back where we found one free seat. Temple sat down with my backpack. I would be standing for this ride along with three Bolivians. Luckily, it was only 2 hours to Tupiza. When the man came back to check the tickets, we showed him what the lady had given us. He said it was not a ticket and we had to pay an additional 15 Bolivianos. We are still not sure what our worthless pieces of paper were or why we were allowed to get on a completely full bus but at least we were on our way.

We set out on the dusty, unpaved road which passed steep hills of freshly moved dirt. It only took me a few minutes to get an idea of how bumpy this ride was going to be. Being in the back of the bus, right over the wheels, we got the worst of every pothole/crater that we hit. Not only were the potholes huge, we were hitting them at about 50-60 mph. I only had 2 inches of clearance between by head and the ceiling so each time we hit a hole I had to duck. The guys in the last row all laughed with me each time we hit a really big one. Temple and other seated people would start to doze for a minute then were suddenly airborne with their head hitting the seat in front of them. Temple offered many times to stand but being a gentleman, I refused. Soon we saw bigger mounds of dirt but this time with some vegetation, mainly cactus. We started to pass small mud-thatched homes that looked abandoned but for one or two mules. We passed a lot of heavy machinery along the way, maybe there was a mine nearby or hopefully they were building on a new road.

As we got closer to Tupiza we began to climb in elevation, meaning we were getting higher on narrow roads with no guardrails. On the way up the mountain we flew through blasted out tunnels that were pitch black and barely wide enough for a bus to pass through. When we emerged, we saw a river valley 500 feet straight down from the edge of our curvy dirt road. It was unnerving to say the least. Temple had to look away but then looked back at the absolute worst moment and saw a rusting, overturned bus at the bottom of the gorge that looked a lot like ours.

Riding on the cliff´s edge didn´t last much longer thankfully. Soon we were passing through small villages and then pulling into Tupiza´s bus station. Stepping off the bus onto solid ground, my legs felt like jelly. We decided that that bus ride was enough travel for one day. More people were screaming city names. We walked towards "Uyuni!" We asked when the first bus left tomorrow. "Hay un problema" the ticket lady said. Turns out that all the bus and train workers in Uyuni were on strike demanding higher wages. No one was sure when it would end but it was already long by Bolivian standards. We were told that most strikes are resloved in one or two days and this one was entering its fourth.

We found a nice hostel and it turned out they also run salt flat tours like the one we wanted to do out of Uyuni. Its the same tour except you do it in reverse. So we´ll end with the Salar de Uyuni instead of starting with it, and it makes sense that it would be the grand finale. We booked it. Things were looking up. As luck would have it, we arrived in Tupiza on the eve of its anniversary. There would be a parade in 30 minutes and a full day of festivities tomorrow. Turns out, there is a method to Bolivia´s madness.