OK, so I'm *ahem* a tad bit behind the blog at this point... And way behind in my emails as well. I've traveled through 4 other countries since the last post and I'm in a whole new continent, with just 10 days left before I head back to Montreal!!!
I'm currently in Turkey with Johanne, enjoying a 3-week holiday with my sister. I'm honestly trying to make the most of the time that's left, so the blog will just have to wait a little bit longer... In the meantime, you can check out Johanne's blog at johannel.blogspot.com. She's been a bit better than me with the updates.
More later!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Safari part 3 - Chobe and Victoria Falls (woohoo!!!)
Last but by no means least on the safari agenda was the final trip through Botswana to the mighty Victoria Falls in Zambia. Before starting the final leg of our trip, our tiny group of 3 was joined by 7 more people. The new group was an excellent one, one of the best of my trip so far. 1 American, 1 French, 3 Irish and 2 Spanish, added to our Danish and Canadian trio, made for an interesting mix! Never a boring moment!
We made our way through Botswana and headed for a final game drive in Chobe National Park, way up in the north. Chobe was gorgeous, filled with amazing scenery and TONS of elephants! It was a quick stop, only a few hours or so, but I loved it and would recommend it for sure. The scenery was prettier than Kruger, with views of the Zambezi river and animals wading on its shores. But the 'main event' of this safari was the trip to Victoria Falls, and it certainly didn't disappoint!
Besides the actual falls, Livingstone is all about adventure activities. Bungee jumping, canyon swings, white-water rafting, you name it, they do it here. Since bungee jumping is something I now felt I had to do (as you certainly know if you've read the blog up until now), this is were it was finally going to happen. So I've got to admit that while I was thrilled with seeing the actual Victoria Falls (the widest falls in the world, at more than 1700 meters wide http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victoria_Falls), I was a tiny bit distracted by the events planned for the next day...
We had 2 full days in Livingstone to do with as we pleased, and activities galore to fill the hours, so I decided to make the most of it. When I heard that it was possible to do a sky dive in Livingstone, I jumped at the chance. Unlike the bungee, this was something I'd wanted to try for a long time (even prior to my trip) but was too scared to do anything about it. Since I was in a courageous mood, I decided now was the time and I'd go for it! Added bonus, the Irish lads and Susannah were doing it as well, so I wouldn't be going through it alone.
Same deal with white-water rafting. Although it's a popular activity back at home, I'd never tried it (the thought of getting into a wetsuit on a freezing cold river in Quebec or Ontario, yuck!) and thought what the hell, may as well go for it now that I'm here.
First up, the sky dive. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to adequately put into words how absolutely fantastic it was, but I'll try! I can sum it up by saying it was Fucking class!!! (thanks to the Irish guys for the nice language...) I was feeling a little bit nauseous all that morning (OK, a lot actually), but was very determined about going through with it. I'd alternate between being so excited I couldn't stand it, to being so petrified and thinking 'what the hell am I doing?'. This was definitely a big deal for me, more than just a sky dive. It was proving to myself that even if I'm not in the best shape nor as young as I'd like, I CAN push myself beyond my limits and fears. Bearing all this in mind, it didn't start out so well for me...
We met the sky dive guy at 1PM at our camp. The guy meets us, goes away for a few minutes, then comes back and pulls me aside. A bit of hemming and hawing and he cuts to the chase. He's concerned I'm too fat/unfit for the jump and do I really want to do this? Now, being who I am, this came as quite a blow. I spend so much time doubting myself because of this same reason and it took a lot to convince myself that I could do this, and now this guy is telling me I shouldn't??? I'd already asked if there was a weight limit for the jump and was told no. The guy said there is actually, but when he said what it was, it was OK, it was more than what I weigh now. He looked like he didn't believe me and said he'd have to weigh me at the airport just to be sure (as if I'd lie to the guy who'd literally hold my life in his hands!!!). Then he says it's not just about the weight, but I have to be fit enough to lift my legs high when landing, or else I could break my ankles. Lift my legs? I mean, I'd never sky dived before, but it seemed to me that I'd be able to lift my bloody legs. It's all well and good for ME to doubt myself, as I do again and again, but for someone else to do it? Piss off. I told him that yes, I was confident I could lift my legs, but he was the expert and if he thought I was to heavy to jump out of a plane, I'd respect his decision. He said he'd weigh me at the airport and we'll see from there, but he wanted to give me a chance to back down now so as to not be embarassed in front of my friends. Thanks but no thanks, I'm going (as if it wouldn't have been embarassing to turn back then anyways). And besided, I'm mostly beyond being embarassed about my size at this point. I am who I am.
So, not the greatest start to this adventure. All the way to the airport and then to the airfield, I'm pissed off and stressed all at once. The others are excited about the jump, but I'm not even sure yet that I'll be able to do it, until I get weighed. We filled in all the paperwork, signing our lives away, and then he starts getting the first guys ready for the jump. At this point, I'm a bunch of nerves and just want to know if I'm going to jump or not, so I ask him when I'll be weighed on the damn scale. He then says: 'Oh, never mind. I believe you, you probably look heavier because you're so short. You'll be fine.' Charming man, isn't he? ;-) He could work on his social skills a bit, but luckily, I'd be paired up with another fellow. You see, this guy is fat himself, and weighs more than I do, so I'll be paired up with the lighter guy. Happy days!
Now, all done with the negative stuff, I'm back to just being SOOOO EXCITED about the jump! Don and Ruairi are up first and it was fun to watch them be so cool and scared all at once. The whole thing took probably around 30 minutes or so, so it was a tortuous 30 minutes for me, waiting to go next... Their jumps went very well, the both had excellent landings and the hugest smiles on their faces when they landed. I couldn't wait! Up next was Rob and myself. Gulp. My instructor was great, very friendly, upbeat and encouraging. He hooked me up into my harness and we went through a run-through of the jump. Even from the ground, I was absolutely petrified when I had to practice geeting out of the plane onto the wheel shaft, to get into position for the jump. Crazy! Why was I doing this? Is this supposed to be fun? Arghhh!
And then it was the real thing! Up in the plane, we started off nice and easily with a fly over Victoria Falls. The views from up there were breathtaking. From way up above, I could now see what made Victoria Falls so special. Higher and higher we flew, until we were at 8000 ft (2400 meters or so). Rob was sitting by the 'door' of the plane and would be the first to jump. One look at his face and I was backed to being scared shitless. But once you get starting, there is no turning back. The instructor was very good, talking me through every step. At the critical point, when I had to STEP OUT OF THE AIRPLANE ONTO THE WHEEL SHAFT AT 8000 FEET (!!!), my mind was screaming 'NO! NO! NO!' but my body was actually doing it. I tell you, just writing about it now has got me shaking. It was by far the scariest thing ever. And then, we did it, we just jumped and started the 20 second freefall. The first few seconds had me screaming madly with my eyes closed, but then I realised I wanted to see this and continued screaming my head off, but with my eyes opened ;-) It was absolutely fantastic. Amazing. The best.
The whole jump took about 5 minutes, but the adrenaline lasted hours more (I swear I can still feel it today, more than a month after the jump!). Once the freefall was over, my instructor started in right away with strap adjusting, arm pulling (he had to pull my hands free as I didn't want to let go of my harness straps) and practising lifting my legs. Before I knew it, I was on the ground after a 'perfect' butt landing. No standing up landing for me, but who cares? I made it and my ankles were perfectly fine. I couldn't ask for better!
To say I was happy and excited after the jump would be an understatement. I was on top of the world and felt strong and courageous. I could do anything! Or so I thought...
The next day was the white-water rafting. After the high of the sky dive, I was a bit tired but ready for it nonetheless. Once again, a bit of a rough start to the day, with the first part being a walk down the canyon to where the rafts were. Easy enough you'd think, but it was a hell of a walk down. A slippery sand slop with a rickety branch ladder-type thing to help you down. I was absolutely drenched in sweat by the time I got to the bottom of the canyon. I don't recall ever sweating so much going DOWN a hill, so you can imagine it was a bit of a workout. Plus, I passed at least 2 people who got injured on the way down, plus witnessed countless of slips and spills than scared the crap out of me. Huh. Here we go again.
Our group of 8 (the Irish lads, Susannah & Anders, another Irish guy, the instructor and myself) parked ourselves into the raft and started practising our rafting skills. I was sitting at the back, next to the instructor. From the look our instructor was giving us, I don't think we were naturals, but we sort of got the hang of it after a while. We were finally ready for the real thing. We had 15 rapids to go through that day, one of the last days of the season where you could raft down only part of the river. Thank God for small favors, cause had it been the full 25 rapids, I don't know if I would have made it...
The first rapid was fine, a bit of fun jostling, nothing major. The next rapids on our list were called the Three Sisters, which should have been a good sign, my own three sisters being my favorite people in the world. Unfortunately, they weren't much help to me that day ;-) Our instructor warned us that a lot of boats flip at this section, so just follow his instructions and hold on for dear life if he yells 'Get down'. Not 5 seconds into the rapid it seems and he's already yelling 'Get down', so that's what I did. What followed was (un)fortunately captured on both video and pictures, so still have it fresh in my memory. The boat tilted, tilted and tilted some more, until I finally slipped right out of the boat into the rapid. Luckily, I was serious about holding on for dear life, so I was still holding on to the 'Oh shit!' roap attached to the raft. I thought we'd all flipped, but no, it was just little ole lucky me. The instructor grabbed my lifejacket to pull me up into the raft, but not before I was dunked 3 more times by the churning waters in the rapid. Lucky for me there wasn't a 4th time, cause I was done. By the time the 3rd dunking came along, I felt like I was drowning. I'd never been terribly afraid of water up until then, thinking I could swim or float myself out of anything. I suddenly realised you can't float yourself out of a rapid, and didn't like the feeling so much. Finally, I was back on the raft, a little bit the worse for the wear, but happy to be alive :-)
Our raft turned into a rescue boat in that same section of river, since a few boats actually flipped and people were floating/swimming/drowning down the rapids. We (i.e. everyone but me) picked up another girl along the way, who looked like she was in shock. She was fine, but looked about as scared and shook up as I felt. Good times for all.
Since the 'Three Sisters' rapids were to be quickly followed by 'The Mother', I spent the next few minutes absolutely petrified, waiting for the next beating. Little did I know that we'd passed 'The Mother' while on our rescue mission, so in theory, the worst was over with. In practice, even the 'freebies', the white-water sections too small to be considered rapids, were trouble enough for me. Now, I don't know if it was my placement at the back of the boat or my not-so-low center of gravity, but my butt seemed to be stuck on an auto-eject setting that day. The minute we'd hit white-water of any kind, I would either quite ungracefully fall INTO the boat or head straight for the river OUTSIDE the boat. Luckily, I was sitting next to the instructor who noticed my unfortunate auto-eject predicament and he kept grabbing me just before I hit the water. He saved me no less than 3 other times that day, for which I will forever be grateful. I had no interest of going back into the water, ever again.
Did I like the white-water rafting experience? Hum, not so much. Am I happy I did it? Of course, another 'check' in the list of things to do in my life :-) But can I just say that I was completely exhausted, shattered, pooped at the end of those 2 days??? You'll understand if my date with destiny and the oft-talked about bungee jump would have to wait for another day, if ever. I am quite happy with the sky dive I did and I think I proved to myself want I wanted to. I now just needed to take a little nap after all this adventure :-)
We made our way through Botswana and headed for a final game drive in Chobe National Park, way up in the north. Chobe was gorgeous, filled with amazing scenery and TONS of elephants! It was a quick stop, only a few hours or so, but I loved it and would recommend it for sure. The scenery was prettier than Kruger, with views of the Zambezi river and animals wading on its shores. But the 'main event' of this safari was the trip to Victoria Falls, and it certainly didn't disappoint!
Besides the actual falls, Livingstone is all about adventure activities. Bungee jumping, canyon swings, white-water rafting, you name it, they do it here. Since bungee jumping is something I now felt I had to do (as you certainly know if you've read the blog up until now), this is were it was finally going to happen. So I've got to admit that while I was thrilled with seeing the actual Victoria Falls (the widest falls in the world, at more than 1700 meters wide http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victoria_Falls), I was a tiny bit distracted by the events planned for the next day...
We had 2 full days in Livingstone to do with as we pleased, and activities galore to fill the hours, so I decided to make the most of it. When I heard that it was possible to do a sky dive in Livingstone, I jumped at the chance. Unlike the bungee, this was something I'd wanted to try for a long time (even prior to my trip) but was too scared to do anything about it. Since I was in a courageous mood, I decided now was the time and I'd go for it! Added bonus, the Irish lads and Susannah were doing it as well, so I wouldn't be going through it alone.
Same deal with white-water rafting. Although it's a popular activity back at home, I'd never tried it (the thought of getting into a wetsuit on a freezing cold river in Quebec or Ontario, yuck!) and thought what the hell, may as well go for it now that I'm here.
First up, the sky dive. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to adequately put into words how absolutely fantastic it was, but I'll try! I can sum it up by saying it was Fucking class!!! (thanks to the Irish guys for the nice language...) I was feeling a little bit nauseous all that morning (OK, a lot actually), but was very determined about going through with it. I'd alternate between being so excited I couldn't stand it, to being so petrified and thinking 'what the hell am I doing?'. This was definitely a big deal for me, more than just a sky dive. It was proving to myself that even if I'm not in the best shape nor as young as I'd like, I CAN push myself beyond my limits and fears. Bearing all this in mind, it didn't start out so well for me...
We met the sky dive guy at 1PM at our camp. The guy meets us, goes away for a few minutes, then comes back and pulls me aside. A bit of hemming and hawing and he cuts to the chase. He's concerned I'm too fat/unfit for the jump and do I really want to do this? Now, being who I am, this came as quite a blow. I spend so much time doubting myself because of this same reason and it took a lot to convince myself that I could do this, and now this guy is telling me I shouldn't??? I'd already asked if there was a weight limit for the jump and was told no. The guy said there is actually, but when he said what it was, it was OK, it was more than what I weigh now. He looked like he didn't believe me and said he'd have to weigh me at the airport just to be sure (as if I'd lie to the guy who'd literally hold my life in his hands!!!). Then he says it's not just about the weight, but I have to be fit enough to lift my legs high when landing, or else I could break my ankles. Lift my legs? I mean, I'd never sky dived before, but it seemed to me that I'd be able to lift my bloody legs. It's all well and good for ME to doubt myself, as I do again and again, but for someone else to do it? Piss off. I told him that yes, I was confident I could lift my legs, but he was the expert and if he thought I was to heavy to jump out of a plane, I'd respect his decision. He said he'd weigh me at the airport and we'll see from there, but he wanted to give me a chance to back down now so as to not be embarassed in front of my friends. Thanks but no thanks, I'm going (as if it wouldn't have been embarassing to turn back then anyways). And besided, I'm mostly beyond being embarassed about my size at this point. I am who I am.
So, not the greatest start to this adventure. All the way to the airport and then to the airfield, I'm pissed off and stressed all at once. The others are excited about the jump, but I'm not even sure yet that I'll be able to do it, until I get weighed. We filled in all the paperwork, signing our lives away, and then he starts getting the first guys ready for the jump. At this point, I'm a bunch of nerves and just want to know if I'm going to jump or not, so I ask him when I'll be weighed on the damn scale. He then says: 'Oh, never mind. I believe you, you probably look heavier because you're so short. You'll be fine.' Charming man, isn't he? ;-) He could work on his social skills a bit, but luckily, I'd be paired up with another fellow. You see, this guy is fat himself, and weighs more than I do, so I'll be paired up with the lighter guy. Happy days!
Now, all done with the negative stuff, I'm back to just being SOOOO EXCITED about the jump! Don and Ruairi are up first and it was fun to watch them be so cool and scared all at once. The whole thing took probably around 30 minutes or so, so it was a tortuous 30 minutes for me, waiting to go next... Their jumps went very well, the both had excellent landings and the hugest smiles on their faces when they landed. I couldn't wait! Up next was Rob and myself. Gulp. My instructor was great, very friendly, upbeat and encouraging. He hooked me up into my harness and we went through a run-through of the jump. Even from the ground, I was absolutely petrified when I had to practice geeting out of the plane onto the wheel shaft, to get into position for the jump. Crazy! Why was I doing this? Is this supposed to be fun? Arghhh!
And then it was the real thing! Up in the plane, we started off nice and easily with a fly over Victoria Falls. The views from up there were breathtaking. From way up above, I could now see what made Victoria Falls so special. Higher and higher we flew, until we were at 8000 ft (2400 meters or so). Rob was sitting by the 'door' of the plane and would be the first to jump. One look at his face and I was backed to being scared shitless. But once you get starting, there is no turning back. The instructor was very good, talking me through every step. At the critical point, when I had to STEP OUT OF THE AIRPLANE ONTO THE WHEEL SHAFT AT 8000 FEET (!!!), my mind was screaming 'NO! NO! NO!' but my body was actually doing it. I tell you, just writing about it now has got me shaking. It was by far the scariest thing ever. And then, we did it, we just jumped and started the 20 second freefall. The first few seconds had me screaming madly with my eyes closed, but then I realised I wanted to see this and continued screaming my head off, but with my eyes opened ;-) It was absolutely fantastic. Amazing. The best.
The whole jump took about 5 minutes, but the adrenaline lasted hours more (I swear I can still feel it today, more than a month after the jump!). Once the freefall was over, my instructor started in right away with strap adjusting, arm pulling (he had to pull my hands free as I didn't want to let go of my harness straps) and practising lifting my legs. Before I knew it, I was on the ground after a 'perfect' butt landing. No standing up landing for me, but who cares? I made it and my ankles were perfectly fine. I couldn't ask for better!
To say I was happy and excited after the jump would be an understatement. I was on top of the world and felt strong and courageous. I could do anything! Or so I thought...
The next day was the white-water rafting. After the high of the sky dive, I was a bit tired but ready for it nonetheless. Once again, a bit of a rough start to the day, with the first part being a walk down the canyon to where the rafts were. Easy enough you'd think, but it was a hell of a walk down. A slippery sand slop with a rickety branch ladder-type thing to help you down. I was absolutely drenched in sweat by the time I got to the bottom of the canyon. I don't recall ever sweating so much going DOWN a hill, so you can imagine it was a bit of a workout. Plus, I passed at least 2 people who got injured on the way down, plus witnessed countless of slips and spills than scared the crap out of me. Huh. Here we go again.
Our group of 8 (the Irish lads, Susannah & Anders, another Irish guy, the instructor and myself) parked ourselves into the raft and started practising our rafting skills. I was sitting at the back, next to the instructor. From the look our instructor was giving us, I don't think we were naturals, but we sort of got the hang of it after a while. We were finally ready for the real thing. We had 15 rapids to go through that day, one of the last days of the season where you could raft down only part of the river. Thank God for small favors, cause had it been the full 25 rapids, I don't know if I would have made it...
The first rapid was fine, a bit of fun jostling, nothing major. The next rapids on our list were called the Three Sisters, which should have been a good sign, my own three sisters being my favorite people in the world. Unfortunately, they weren't much help to me that day ;-) Our instructor warned us that a lot of boats flip at this section, so just follow his instructions and hold on for dear life if he yells 'Get down'. Not 5 seconds into the rapid it seems and he's already yelling 'Get down', so that's what I did. What followed was (un)fortunately captured on both video and pictures, so still have it fresh in my memory. The boat tilted, tilted and tilted some more, until I finally slipped right out of the boat into the rapid. Luckily, I was serious about holding on for dear life, so I was still holding on to the 'Oh shit!' roap attached to the raft. I thought we'd all flipped, but no, it was just little ole lucky me. The instructor grabbed my lifejacket to pull me up into the raft, but not before I was dunked 3 more times by the churning waters in the rapid. Lucky for me there wasn't a 4th time, cause I was done. By the time the 3rd dunking came along, I felt like I was drowning. I'd never been terribly afraid of water up until then, thinking I could swim or float myself out of anything. I suddenly realised you can't float yourself out of a rapid, and didn't like the feeling so much. Finally, I was back on the raft, a little bit the worse for the wear, but happy to be alive :-)
Our raft turned into a rescue boat in that same section of river, since a few boats actually flipped and people were floating/swimming/drowning down the rapids. We (i.e. everyone but me) picked up another girl along the way, who looked like she was in shock. She was fine, but looked about as scared and shook up as I felt. Good times for all.
Since the 'Three Sisters' rapids were to be quickly followed by 'The Mother', I spent the next few minutes absolutely petrified, waiting for the next beating. Little did I know that we'd passed 'The Mother' while on our rescue mission, so in theory, the worst was over with. In practice, even the 'freebies', the white-water sections too small to be considered rapids, were trouble enough for me. Now, I don't know if it was my placement at the back of the boat or my not-so-low center of gravity, but my butt seemed to be stuck on an auto-eject setting that day. The minute we'd hit white-water of any kind, I would either quite ungracefully fall INTO the boat or head straight for the river OUTSIDE the boat. Luckily, I was sitting next to the instructor who noticed my unfortunate auto-eject predicament and he kept grabbing me just before I hit the water. He saved me no less than 3 other times that day, for which I will forever be grateful. I had no interest of going back into the water, ever again.
Did I like the white-water rafting experience? Hum, not so much. Am I happy I did it? Of course, another 'check' in the list of things to do in my life :-) But can I just say that I was completely exhausted, shattered, pooped at the end of those 2 days??? You'll understand if my date with destiny and the oft-talked about bungee jump would have to wait for another day, if ever. I am quite happy with the sky dive I did and I think I proved to myself want I wanted to. I now just needed to take a little nap after all this adventure :-)
Safari part 2 - Okavango Delta
It was now time to part ways with my first group and say goodbye to South Africa. I was a bit nervous about this part of the trip, cause someone from the safari company had mentioned that I may be alone with a guide for this part. Being by myself with a guide for the better part of a week would not be my idea of a good time, so I was greatly relieved when I met Susannah and Anders, a Danish couple who were doing the same trip through Botswana to Victoria Falls.
I was picked up at 6:15AM in a small 4-door car that would be our transportation for the next week or so. A bit suprising, since this was not my idea of a rough and tumble safari vehicle, but then again, this is Africa. Expect anything. The first couple of days were very quiet and entailed a lot (A LOT) of driving. Our guide David had said we'd be on the road for no less than 10 hours on the first day, and he wasn't wrong. Even if everything went smoothly at the border crossing into Botswana and the only traffic on the roads were animals of all sorts, we still managed to take close to 13 hours for the first leg of our trip. David, a very sweet man and good guide as well, has a method to his madness that only he understands. Let's just say our pit stops and shopping breaks were far from efficient and the concept of a 'critical path' was a foreign one. (Slap slap, listen to me going on about efficiency and critical paths. Have I not been traveling long enough?)
The first day ended with the 2nd vehicle accident of my trip (1st=bus in China), when our car hit a horse as it was crossing the road after sunset. So many animals were using the road as their own personal playground, it was just a matter of time before we hit something. Thankfully we were fine and the car was only slighly damaged, but who knows what happened to the horse, since we never stopped to check on it. It's just not done in this part of the world. Susannah mentioned that this was the 3rd time they'd been involved in an accident of the first days of their vacations. Good luck charms they were not! ;-)
The next day was more of the same, with more driving through the flat sandy landscape of Botswana. The scenery was pretty enough, but it honestly gets wearing hour after hour. By the time we got near our campsite for the day, I was almost at the 'Are we almost there?' stage but barely managed to keep it in check. And when our Toyota Corolla type 'safari' vehicle got caught in the sand in the 'driveway' to the campsite, I almost lost it. My newfound zen-like patience left me, big time. (PMS might have had something to do with it, but seriously, I was about ready to punch someone).
All this driving was to get us close to the real fun, the 2-day bush camping safari in the Okavango Delta. This would be 'extreme' camping for me, with no running water, no electricity, no toilets, ... Just getting there was half the adventure, with a 2-hour drive in an open truck, half of it 'off-road' on the sand and over waterways, followed by another 2-hour or so ride in a mokoro (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Makoro). The mokoro ride was amazingly beautiful. A poler stood at the back of the canoe and pushed us around the shallow waterways filled with reeds, water lillies, birds, butterflies, ... I don't think I've ever felt so far away from home than after that journey into the middle of the Delta.
Once at our camp (basically a shady area amongst the trees by the water), we set up our tents, had lunch and rested before our first afternoon gamewalk. It started off in an interesting way, with us witnessing a baboon murder/manslaughter. A younger male baboon was chasing an older male around the trees next to our camps, and the older one eventually ended up way high up in a tree, waiting the young guy out. The young one left and the older one decided to make a move, only to end up falling out of the tree from very high up above. Our guide walked us close to the baboon, who just managed to limp away and hide under some bushes. He was still there the next morning but wasn't in good shape. He wouldn't last more than a few days for sure. All this was witnessed with the greatest enjoyment by our guide, who laughed so hard at the baboon falling out of the tree I thought he'd pee himself. Obviously humour is subjective, but none of the rest of us thought it was funny. Go figure.
As usual, I was a bit worried at how I'd manage the game walks accompanied by much fitter people than I. I shouldn't have worried about the pace of the walk, you can't really race around when you're looking for animals (unless you're running away from them, I guess). I still managed to get blisters though, which hadn't happened in ages. All this because my feet were so dirty (seriously, who needs showers?) and got overheated wearing running shoes walking around in the sand. I wasn't too pleased, since we had another 4-hour walk planned the next day, but I'd survive. The walk was cool, with some zebra, giraffe and hippo sightings. It's definitely a different feeling to see the animals away from the comfort of a safari truck, with nothing between you and them but a bit of space. Cool.
The next morning's walk was a bit more of a struggle, my blisters becoming bigger by the minute. Walking was OK, but the minute we'd stop I'd feel the pain shoot up. And starting again was hell, I'd have to grit my teeth to get through the first 100 paces (trust me, I counted every step). In between my mentally cursing my stupid feet, I saw some more amazing animals, with giraffes and elephants again being the highlight for me. No lions or leopards, but honestly, who wants to come across these when you're WALKING. Not me, that's for sure.
The walks were much like the game drives, with lots of time to yourself to daydream and relax. At one point, I was so involved in my imaginary tale of being chased be an elephant, being pushed down by people running away screaming from the beast, that I almost stopped walking altogether. I 'came to' and started walking again, only to start mentally writting out my last will and testament, in case my daydream turned real. For the record, the gist of my will is that I love you all and if this is my time to go, well, what a way to do it! You'll have to trust me when I say it wasn't as morbid as it sounds...
That afternoon, we went on a sunset mokoro trip to a hippo pool nearby. It was extremely cool to watch hippos pop up and down in the water every few minutes. Hippos are supposedly the most dangerous animals in Africa, killing more humans than any other animal. During our game walks in St. Lucia, we were constantly reminded to always keep a barrier of some sort between us and the hippos, being a trench, trees or a very good distance. This time, not so many warnings and our polers brought us close to the hippos in the water. It was thrilling, maybe a bit too thrilling...
I was calmly sitting in my mokoro while my poler was edging us closer to a group of hippos, all to get a better view of them. All of a sudden, the mokoro starts wobbling and moving around like crazy as we flip directions and head for the shore. Now this a tiny bit unnerving cause it felt like we were going to tip (mokoros don't feel all that stable in the first place), so I turn around to look at my poler and ask him what the hell was going on. He was laughing, so I assumed it was just a bit of fun on his part (must be fun to scare the tourists every once in a while), but then I saw Susannah looking at me all worried. She asked me if I was OK, and was I shaking as much as she was? It turns out that a hippo charged my mokoro and I didn't even see it! We came too close and it decided to show us who's boss, but I guess it was all a bit beyond me. My closest call with Africa's most dangerous animal, and I missed it!!!
There was more hippo action that night, while I was lying in my tent trying to go to sleep. I kept hearing some chomping and splashing very nearby, just on the shore next to our tents. I heard the guys outside saying that it was a hippo, but being the closest tent to the shore and already having had one close call that day, I decided to stay put in my tent and wait the hippo out. I fell asleep shortly and awoke the next day alive and well, so it all turned out great in the end :-)
The Okavango Delta was an overall amazing experience, the closest I've felt to nature and being 'in the wild'. Living up close with elephants, zebras, giraffes, hippos, ... is probably not something I'm going to get to do that often in my lifetime, so I won't soon forget it.
I was picked up at 6:15AM in a small 4-door car that would be our transportation for the next week or so. A bit suprising, since this was not my idea of a rough and tumble safari vehicle, but then again, this is Africa. Expect anything. The first couple of days were very quiet and entailed a lot (A LOT) of driving. Our guide David had said we'd be on the road for no less than 10 hours on the first day, and he wasn't wrong. Even if everything went smoothly at the border crossing into Botswana and the only traffic on the roads were animals of all sorts, we still managed to take close to 13 hours for the first leg of our trip. David, a very sweet man and good guide as well, has a method to his madness that only he understands. Let's just say our pit stops and shopping breaks were far from efficient and the concept of a 'critical path' was a foreign one. (Slap slap, listen to me going on about efficiency and critical paths. Have I not been traveling long enough?)
The first day ended with the 2nd vehicle accident of my trip (1st=bus in China), when our car hit a horse as it was crossing the road after sunset. So many animals were using the road as their own personal playground, it was just a matter of time before we hit something. Thankfully we were fine and the car was only slighly damaged, but who knows what happened to the horse, since we never stopped to check on it. It's just not done in this part of the world. Susannah mentioned that this was the 3rd time they'd been involved in an accident of the first days of their vacations. Good luck charms they were not! ;-)
The next day was more of the same, with more driving through the flat sandy landscape of Botswana. The scenery was pretty enough, but it honestly gets wearing hour after hour. By the time we got near our campsite for the day, I was almost at the 'Are we almost there?' stage but barely managed to keep it in check. And when our Toyota Corolla type 'safari' vehicle got caught in the sand in the 'driveway' to the campsite, I almost lost it. My newfound zen-like patience left me, big time. (PMS might have had something to do with it, but seriously, I was about ready to punch someone).
All this driving was to get us close to the real fun, the 2-day bush camping safari in the Okavango Delta. This would be 'extreme' camping for me, with no running water, no electricity, no toilets, ... Just getting there was half the adventure, with a 2-hour drive in an open truck, half of it 'off-road' on the sand and over waterways, followed by another 2-hour or so ride in a mokoro (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Makoro). The mokoro ride was amazingly beautiful. A poler stood at the back of the canoe and pushed us around the shallow waterways filled with reeds, water lillies, birds, butterflies, ... I don't think I've ever felt so far away from home than after that journey into the middle of the Delta.
Once at our camp (basically a shady area amongst the trees by the water), we set up our tents, had lunch and rested before our first afternoon gamewalk. It started off in an interesting way, with us witnessing a baboon murder/manslaughter. A younger male baboon was chasing an older male around the trees next to our camps, and the older one eventually ended up way high up in a tree, waiting the young guy out. The young one left and the older one decided to make a move, only to end up falling out of the tree from very high up above. Our guide walked us close to the baboon, who just managed to limp away and hide under some bushes. He was still there the next morning but wasn't in good shape. He wouldn't last more than a few days for sure. All this was witnessed with the greatest enjoyment by our guide, who laughed so hard at the baboon falling out of the tree I thought he'd pee himself. Obviously humour is subjective, but none of the rest of us thought it was funny. Go figure.
As usual, I was a bit worried at how I'd manage the game walks accompanied by much fitter people than I. I shouldn't have worried about the pace of the walk, you can't really race around when you're looking for animals (unless you're running away from them, I guess). I still managed to get blisters though, which hadn't happened in ages. All this because my feet were so dirty (seriously, who needs showers?) and got overheated wearing running shoes walking around in the sand. I wasn't too pleased, since we had another 4-hour walk planned the next day, but I'd survive. The walk was cool, with some zebra, giraffe and hippo sightings. It's definitely a different feeling to see the animals away from the comfort of a safari truck, with nothing between you and them but a bit of space. Cool.
The next morning's walk was a bit more of a struggle, my blisters becoming bigger by the minute. Walking was OK, but the minute we'd stop I'd feel the pain shoot up. And starting again was hell, I'd have to grit my teeth to get through the first 100 paces (trust me, I counted every step). In between my mentally cursing my stupid feet, I saw some more amazing animals, with giraffes and elephants again being the highlight for me. No lions or leopards, but honestly, who wants to come across these when you're WALKING. Not me, that's for sure.
The walks were much like the game drives, with lots of time to yourself to daydream and relax. At one point, I was so involved in my imaginary tale of being chased be an elephant, being pushed down by people running away screaming from the beast, that I almost stopped walking altogether. I 'came to' and started walking again, only to start mentally writting out my last will and testament, in case my daydream turned real. For the record, the gist of my will is that I love you all and if this is my time to go, well, what a way to do it! You'll have to trust me when I say it wasn't as morbid as it sounds...
That afternoon, we went on a sunset mokoro trip to a hippo pool nearby. It was extremely cool to watch hippos pop up and down in the water every few minutes. Hippos are supposedly the most dangerous animals in Africa, killing more humans than any other animal. During our game walks in St. Lucia, we were constantly reminded to always keep a barrier of some sort between us and the hippos, being a trench, trees or a very good distance. This time, not so many warnings and our polers brought us close to the hippos in the water. It was thrilling, maybe a bit too thrilling...
I was calmly sitting in my mokoro while my poler was edging us closer to a group of hippos, all to get a better view of them. All of a sudden, the mokoro starts wobbling and moving around like crazy as we flip directions and head for the shore. Now this a tiny bit unnerving cause it felt like we were going to tip (mokoros don't feel all that stable in the first place), so I turn around to look at my poler and ask him what the hell was going on. He was laughing, so I assumed it was just a bit of fun on his part (must be fun to scare the tourists every once in a while), but then I saw Susannah looking at me all worried. She asked me if I was OK, and was I shaking as much as she was? It turns out that a hippo charged my mokoro and I didn't even see it! We came too close and it decided to show us who's boss, but I guess it was all a bit beyond me. My closest call with Africa's most dangerous animal, and I missed it!!!
There was more hippo action that night, while I was lying in my tent trying to go to sleep. I kept hearing some chomping and splashing very nearby, just on the shore next to our tents. I heard the guys outside saying that it was a hippo, but being the closest tent to the shore and already having had one close call that day, I decided to stay put in my tent and wait the hippo out. I fell asleep shortly and awoke the next day alive and well, so it all turned out great in the end :-)
The Okavango Delta was an overall amazing experience, the closest I've felt to nature and being 'in the wild'. Living up close with elephants, zebras, giraffes, hippos, ... is probably not something I'm going to get to do that often in my lifetime, so I won't soon forget it.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Little baby steps
So, I've just managed to post 2 items about the first part of my safari that happened one month ago. The other parts will eventually follow, hopefully before I get back home in October :-) By the way, I've completely given up on even trying to upload pictures, it's just too slow and frustrating. You'll have to wait until I get home to see all my pictures starting from China all the way through Africa.
I'm now heading to my final destination in Africa: Egypt! I'm flying into Cairo today and will spend the next 3 weeks visiting Egypt and maybe Jordan before meeting Johanne in Turkey for the last month of my trip. I'm enjoying my last few weeks to the fullest, but am now really starting to look forward to coming home and seeing all my friends and family. I can't wait!!!
Again, read the posts in the opposite order if you want to get the right sequence. Bye for now.
I'm now heading to my final destination in Africa: Egypt! I'm flying into Cairo today and will spend the next 3 weeks visiting Egypt and maybe Jordan before meeting Johanne in Turkey for the last month of my trip. I'm enjoying my last few weeks to the fullest, but am now really starting to look forward to coming home and seeing all my friends and family. I can't wait!!!
Again, read the posts in the opposite order if you want to get the right sequence. Bye for now.
Safari part 1 - Kruger National Park
The 2-week safari I'd booked was in actual fact a combination of 3 different tours. A sort of 'a la carte' safari that meant I wouldn't be with the same group over the next 2 weeks. The first group was on the smallish side, with just Phil the Aussie, Monia the Italian and myself. We started off a bit weary after our late night expedition, but there was a lot of driving involved in the first day, so plenty of time to rest in the van...
The weather was crappy, so much so that we skipped out on viewing "God's window", since visibility wasn't good enough to see it. Since I've no idea what "God's window" is, I've no idea if I should have been disappointed or not. We did stop along the way at Blyde River Canyon, which had pretty amazing scenery, so I was happy.
After a longer than expected (expected by me, anyways) drive, we finally arrived at the tribal village that would be our stop for the night. As I got out of the van, I was hoping that the bored looking people dressed in skimpy tribal outfits weren't there to great us, but no such luck. They were. I was horrified when these very bored looking people started singing to our tiny little group as we approached the entrance. No eye-contact, no smiling, just some unenthusiastic singing on their part. How awkward.
Things didn't immediately get better as we were shown around the village by a young man claiming to be the tribe leader's grandchild. He explained to us some of the tribe's traditions and how they lived. He brought us around the different buildings and would occasionally call upon a tired and put-out looking woman to show us some of the daily chores like the grinding of maize or making grass mats. Oouf. I'd seen enough of this 'in real life' to feel how fake this was. I know I sound like I'm complaining, but I've been brought on tours to see 'traditional village life' enough times to last me a lifetime on this trip. Definitely not my favorite.
Things did get a bit better after dinner, when the village boys were called around the bonfire to dance for us. The reason it was better was because the boys finally looked like they were having fun, and weren't so much dancing for us as they were for themselves. We later found out they hadn't danced together for a while, so they really were having genuine fun. Of course, all 3 of us had to join in and dance a little, which was fine, but things got dicey when we were asked to sign a song from our country. Phil started us off with the Aussie classic 'Waltzing Mathilda', but was soon thrown off by the fact that the boys knew the words to the song. Pretty funny. I of course couldn't think of a single Canadian song I could sing and I certainly wasn't about to start belting out a Celine tune, was I? I decided to go with 'Frere Jacques', which yes, I know is not Canadian per se, so sue me. At least I knew it would be a laugh to hear the boys sing the same tune in their own language, cause of course 'Frere Jacques' is translated in every language known to man. I wasn't disappointed.
By 8 o'clock that night, every single person in the village was in bed except our tiny little group of 3. I managed to stretch the evening out until 10PM (woohoo) by chatting and staring at the slowly diminishing camp fire, before going to sleep in my mummy sleeping bag on what would be the first of many early nights of camping.
We woke up bright and early (or should I say dark and early) the next morning to head out to Kruger for our very first game drive. I'd slept well enough, if a bit uncomfortable in my mummy sleeping bag, not realising that you weren't supposed to try to turn around IN the sleeping bag but WITH it. Lesson learned. There was also evidence of a creature (most probably a rat) having visited us during the night, since Phil's cough drops were no longer in his pocket but now lay near my sleeping bag in a tattered chewed up mess. Lovely.
Once at Kruger, we met 3 more people who'd started their safari the day before, so our group was now doubled from 3 to 6. One of the girls warned us that it might be *ahem* a tad cold on the truck, so be prepared. Understatement of the year. Have you ever been sitting on an open vehicle going 50 km/h when it was 5C outside? It may not sound like much, but remember, this is Africa, not Canada, where I would be appropriately dressed. I was wearing all of my layers plus the new fleece I'd bought (thank god), a scarf and wrapped in 2 blankets and still I froze. I spent the morning alternating between states of frozen misery and absolute wonderment at what I saw.
Setting aside the weather for a minute (did I mention it also rained a little? While sitting on an open truck?), it was pretty freaking cool to be there on a safari in South Africa's biggest game reserve. Between the time we left at around 6:30 AM and breakfast a few hours later, I saw: guinea fowls, water bucks, hyenas, impalas, giraffes (yay!), buffalo's, zebras, elephants (yay again!) and vultures. A bit later on in the day, and you can add to that list hippos, crocs, kudzu, bush bucks, a white rhino (sort of. even with binoculars, it was only a black spot on the horizon), warthogs, a wild cat and a baby zebra less than a few hours old.
After the first full day of game drives on safari, I've discovered that it's much like I imagine fishing to be. You sit around waiting and doing nothing much for many hours and have brief moments of excitement along the way. OK, the major difference between fishing and a game drive is that there aren't any beers on the truck, those only come after.
The moments of excitement for that day: watching a herd of elephants cross the road in front of our truck, seeing tons of giraffes, graceful yet geeky all at once, and seeing vultures pick off the rest of a lions meal. And the quiet moments were very 'zen' like for me. Very relaxing and peaceful, with lots of time for thinking and just taking it all in. If I could have recorded my thoughts during those quiet hours, my blog would now be a 500-page novel.
Another evening spent by the campfire before settling into our freezing tents for the night. I slept fully clothes, with jeans and all of my layers, but stupidly used the blanket provided to me as a pillow. I really can be dumb sometimes. :-(
The next few days were very much similar, but in a very good way. We were on a hunt for lions and leopards, and were halfway successful. We saw a lion walking around, looking for prey to stalk, and later saw 3 lions resting after having gorged themselves on a poor unsuspecting zebra. Lots more animal watching (love those giraffe and elephants!), taking pictures and daydreaming the rest of the time. The camping was comfortable, regardless of the weather, and the food was very good considering this was a budget safari.
The weather was crappy, so much so that we skipped out on viewing "God's window", since visibility wasn't good enough to see it. Since I've no idea what "God's window" is, I've no idea if I should have been disappointed or not. We did stop along the way at Blyde River Canyon, which had pretty amazing scenery, so I was happy.
After a longer than expected (expected by me, anyways) drive, we finally arrived at the tribal village that would be our stop for the night. As I got out of the van, I was hoping that the bored looking people dressed in skimpy tribal outfits weren't there to great us, but no such luck. They were. I was horrified when these very bored looking people started singing to our tiny little group as we approached the entrance. No eye-contact, no smiling, just some unenthusiastic singing on their part. How awkward.
Things didn't immediately get better as we were shown around the village by a young man claiming to be the tribe leader's grandchild. He explained to us some of the tribe's traditions and how they lived. He brought us around the different buildings and would occasionally call upon a tired and put-out looking woman to show us some of the daily chores like the grinding of maize or making grass mats. Oouf. I'd seen enough of this 'in real life' to feel how fake this was. I know I sound like I'm complaining, but I've been brought on tours to see 'traditional village life' enough times to last me a lifetime on this trip. Definitely not my favorite.
Things did get a bit better after dinner, when the village boys were called around the bonfire to dance for us. The reason it was better was because the boys finally looked like they were having fun, and weren't so much dancing for us as they were for themselves. We later found out they hadn't danced together for a while, so they really were having genuine fun. Of course, all 3 of us had to join in and dance a little, which was fine, but things got dicey when we were asked to sign a song from our country. Phil started us off with the Aussie classic 'Waltzing Mathilda', but was soon thrown off by the fact that the boys knew the words to the song. Pretty funny. I of course couldn't think of a single Canadian song I could sing and I certainly wasn't about to start belting out a Celine tune, was I? I decided to go with 'Frere Jacques', which yes, I know is not Canadian per se, so sue me. At least I knew it would be a laugh to hear the boys sing the same tune in their own language, cause of course 'Frere Jacques' is translated in every language known to man. I wasn't disappointed.
By 8 o'clock that night, every single person in the village was in bed except our tiny little group of 3. I managed to stretch the evening out until 10PM (woohoo) by chatting and staring at the slowly diminishing camp fire, before going to sleep in my mummy sleeping bag on what would be the first of many early nights of camping.
We woke up bright and early (or should I say dark and early) the next morning to head out to Kruger for our very first game drive. I'd slept well enough, if a bit uncomfortable in my mummy sleeping bag, not realising that you weren't supposed to try to turn around IN the sleeping bag but WITH it. Lesson learned. There was also evidence of a creature (most probably a rat) having visited us during the night, since Phil's cough drops were no longer in his pocket but now lay near my sleeping bag in a tattered chewed up mess. Lovely.
Once at Kruger, we met 3 more people who'd started their safari the day before, so our group was now doubled from 3 to 6. One of the girls warned us that it might be *ahem* a tad cold on the truck, so be prepared. Understatement of the year. Have you ever been sitting on an open vehicle going 50 km/h when it was 5C outside? It may not sound like much, but remember, this is Africa, not Canada, where I would be appropriately dressed. I was wearing all of my layers plus the new fleece I'd bought (thank god), a scarf and wrapped in 2 blankets and still I froze. I spent the morning alternating between states of frozen misery and absolute wonderment at what I saw.
Setting aside the weather for a minute (did I mention it also rained a little? While sitting on an open truck?), it was pretty freaking cool to be there on a safari in South Africa's biggest game reserve. Between the time we left at around 6:30 AM and breakfast a few hours later, I saw: guinea fowls, water bucks, hyenas, impalas, giraffes (yay!), buffalo's, zebras, elephants (yay again!) and vultures. A bit later on in the day, and you can add to that list hippos, crocs, kudzu, bush bucks, a white rhino (sort of. even with binoculars, it was only a black spot on the horizon), warthogs, a wild cat and a baby zebra less than a few hours old.
After the first full day of game drives on safari, I've discovered that it's much like I imagine fishing to be. You sit around waiting and doing nothing much for many hours and have brief moments of excitement along the way. OK, the major difference between fishing and a game drive is that there aren't any beers on the truck, those only come after.
The moments of excitement for that day: watching a herd of elephants cross the road in front of our truck, seeing tons of giraffes, graceful yet geeky all at once, and seeing vultures pick off the rest of a lions meal. And the quiet moments were very 'zen' like for me. Very relaxing and peaceful, with lots of time for thinking and just taking it all in. If I could have recorded my thoughts during those quiet hours, my blog would now be a 500-page novel.
Another evening spent by the campfire before settling into our freezing tents for the night. I slept fully clothes, with jeans and all of my layers, but stupidly used the blanket provided to me as a pillow. I really can be dumb sometimes. :-(
The next few days were very much similar, but in a very good way. We were on a hunt for lions and leopards, and were halfway successful. We saw a lion walking around, looking for prey to stalk, and later saw 3 lions resting after having gorged themselves on a poor unsuspecting zebra. Lots more animal watching (love those giraffe and elephants!), taking pictures and daydreaming the rest of the time. The camping was comfortable, regardless of the weather, and the food was very good considering this was a budget safari.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Safari prep
When I first 'planned' (I use the term very loosely) the Africa part of my journey with Melissa, we'd decided on doing at least 1 safari, if not 2, during our 2 trip. The first one that caught my eye was a safari that went from South Africa, in Kruger National Park, all the way to Zambia at Victoria Falls. By the time I got my act together and tried to book the safari, the 7-day trip was not an option, so I threw all budget thoughts out the window and booked the 14-day trip instead. It was basically the same trip, with the added bonus of going to the Okavango Delta in Botswana. Sounded good to me.
My safari would begin on the Saturday from Nelspruit, South Africa. I arrived there from Swaziland on Thursday morning and was set up in an empty dorm room in a quiet looking hostel. I went shopping that afternoon for some last minute safari stuff (ex: sunglasses-mine are broken, extra batteries for my camera-too cheap to buy an adapter for my charger so they hadn't been charged in a while, baby/face wipes-invaluable when you can't shower on a regular basis). I came back later that day to a now busier dorm and met up with 2 Dutch sisters I'd already met in St. Lucia, an Aussie guy who just happened to be booked on the same Kruger safari as me, and a slightly annoying American man who kept asking pushy questions about politics.
More 'chores' the next day, including a 5-hour blog updating marathon and some more last minute shopping. I initially went shopping with the intention of buying a few summer type items like shorts and a t-shirt or 2 (mine are now too big-yay! and very decrepit-boo!), but was quickly brought back to reality once I got to the stores. Ever try buying summer clothes in winter in Canada? Well, the same thing applies in South Africa, even if winter here isn't as harsh. Tuques (woolly hats for the non-Canadians out there), winter jackets, gloves, fleeces, all these were easy to find. It's amazing that they sell basically the same winter clothes in South Africa than in Canada, minus the winter boots and the jackets don't look so much like the Michelin man over here.
The winter days in South Africa have been pretty amazing, with sunny daytime temperatures ranging from 15-25 C. The nights, as I believe I've mentioned before (and most probably will mention many many times again), are freaking cold. Nothing compared to our winter you might say, but I still manage to freeze my ass off cause I insist on wearing flip-flops and still only have my disgusting grey-now-turning-slightly-pink hoodie with me. I FINALLY caved on that final day before my safari and bought myself a fleece. I was all set for camping!
That night, a small group of us from the hostel decided to go out to see what Nelspruit's nightlife had to offer. We were guided on our expedition by JP, the guy working at the backpackers that night. It ended up being a very surreal experience and felt like the wildlife-viewing part of the safari had started early...
The first stop was at the Irish pub down the street. Standard fare, quiet crowd, not an Irish person in sight ;-) We then went off to a place called 'The Barn', but not before JP gave us stern warnings to 'stick with him' and try not to attract too much attention. I took all of this in with a grain of salt, another seemingly paranoid warning from local maybe? But once we got there, it was a sight to behold: The place literally looks like a barn and upon entering, we were greeted by the sight of 20 or so Afrikaans couples (white South Africans) dancing together 'cowboy style' to a Bryan Adams song. Talk about surreal. I felt like I'd been transported right into a barn dance in America's Bible-belt, or how I'd imagine it to be, since I've never been there (nor do I have plans on going any time soon).
From the warnings that JP had given us, I wouldn't have been surprised if someone from our group got their asses kicked before the night was over. One of the joys of traveling on your own is meeting different people, and this night was no exception. These people were 'different'. There was an over-the-top Frenchman who'd spent so many months mute because he doesn't speak English very well that I think he was now a bit 'loco', if you know what I mean (we hadn't even gotten into the supposedly 'dangerous' club and he was already mooning people in the parking lot). Then there was the very flamboyantly gay American who was dancing like a madman amongst the Afrikaans cowboys and his very blond and bubbly English med student friend. Rounding out our group was the Aussie, who appeared fairly normal ;-) Luckily, no one got their asses handed to them that night, but we did pick up a stray along the way. JP overheard some guys talking about beating the crap out of some guy who was a 'Fall Out Boy' lookalike, so he grabbed the guy and lead us back to 'safety'. I still don't know if it was real or paranoia on JP's part (he himself was a bit bizarre if you ask me), but it was an interesting start to my 'safari' time for sure.
My safari would begin on the Saturday from Nelspruit, South Africa. I arrived there from Swaziland on Thursday morning and was set up in an empty dorm room in a quiet looking hostel. I went shopping that afternoon for some last minute safari stuff (ex: sunglasses-mine are broken, extra batteries for my camera-too cheap to buy an adapter for my charger so they hadn't been charged in a while, baby/face wipes-invaluable when you can't shower on a regular basis). I came back later that day to a now busier dorm and met up with 2 Dutch sisters I'd already met in St. Lucia, an Aussie guy who just happened to be booked on the same Kruger safari as me, and a slightly annoying American man who kept asking pushy questions about politics.
More 'chores' the next day, including a 5-hour blog updating marathon and some more last minute shopping. I initially went shopping with the intention of buying a few summer type items like shorts and a t-shirt or 2 (mine are now too big-yay! and very decrepit-boo!), but was quickly brought back to reality once I got to the stores. Ever try buying summer clothes in winter in Canada? Well, the same thing applies in South Africa, even if winter here isn't as harsh. Tuques (woolly hats for the non-Canadians out there), winter jackets, gloves, fleeces, all these were easy to find. It's amazing that they sell basically the same winter clothes in South Africa than in Canada, minus the winter boots and the jackets don't look so much like the Michelin man over here.
The winter days in South Africa have been pretty amazing, with sunny daytime temperatures ranging from 15-25 C. The nights, as I believe I've mentioned before (and most probably will mention many many times again), are freaking cold. Nothing compared to our winter you might say, but I still manage to freeze my ass off cause I insist on wearing flip-flops and still only have my disgusting grey-now-turning-slightly-pink hoodie with me. I FINALLY caved on that final day before my safari and bought myself a fleece. I was all set for camping!
That night, a small group of us from the hostel decided to go out to see what Nelspruit's nightlife had to offer. We were guided on our expedition by JP, the guy working at the backpackers that night. It ended up being a very surreal experience and felt like the wildlife-viewing part of the safari had started early...
The first stop was at the Irish pub down the street. Standard fare, quiet crowd, not an Irish person in sight ;-) We then went off to a place called 'The Barn', but not before JP gave us stern warnings to 'stick with him' and try not to attract too much attention. I took all of this in with a grain of salt, another seemingly paranoid warning from local maybe? But once we got there, it was a sight to behold: The place literally looks like a barn and upon entering, we were greeted by the sight of 20 or so Afrikaans couples (white South Africans) dancing together 'cowboy style' to a Bryan Adams song. Talk about surreal. I felt like I'd been transported right into a barn dance in America's Bible-belt, or how I'd imagine it to be, since I've never been there (nor do I have plans on going any time soon).
From the warnings that JP had given us, I wouldn't have been surprised if someone from our group got their asses kicked before the night was over. One of the joys of traveling on your own is meeting different people, and this night was no exception. These people were 'different'. There was an over-the-top Frenchman who'd spent so many months mute because he doesn't speak English very well that I think he was now a bit 'loco', if you know what I mean (we hadn't even gotten into the supposedly 'dangerous' club and he was already mooning people in the parking lot). Then there was the very flamboyantly gay American who was dancing like a madman amongst the Afrikaans cowboys and his very blond and bubbly English med student friend. Rounding out our group was the Aussie, who appeared fairly normal ;-) Luckily, no one got their asses handed to them that night, but we did pick up a stray along the way. JP overheard some guys talking about beating the crap out of some guy who was a 'Fall Out Boy' lookalike, so he grabbed the guy and lead us back to 'safety'. I still don't know if it was real or paranoia on JP's part (he himself was a bit bizarre if you ask me), but it was an interesting start to my 'safari' time for sure.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Quick update
Hi all,
Just to let you know that yes, I'm still alive, and am enjoying myself in Africa. Since I last posted, I've been through Botswana, Zambia, Malawi and am now in Tanzania. I have a ton of updates to the blog to do, but Internet has up until now been frustratingly expensive (in Zambia), unavailable (Botswana) or too slow (Malawi).
I'll try to update you soon! I hope you're enjoying the last month of summer back at home, even if it's been crappy I hear...
Bye for now
Just to let you know that yes, I'm still alive, and am enjoying myself in Africa. Since I last posted, I've been through Botswana, Zambia, Malawi and am now in Tanzania. I have a ton of updates to the blog to do, but Internet has up until now been frustratingly expensive (in Zambia), unavailable (Botswana) or too slow (Malawi).
I'll try to update you soon! I hope you're enjoying the last month of summer back at home, even if it's been crappy I hear...
Bye for now
Friday, July 11, 2008
Safari time!!!
Listen up friends and family! I've just made a monumental effort and posted 3 different items about my time in South Africa so far. Make sure you read them in order...
I'm still not quite up-to-date, I still have the last week or so to blog about. I'm off tomorrow morning on a 2-week safari that takes me into South Africa's Kruger National Park (cross my fingers that I'll see lions, leopards and giraffes), Botswana's Okavango Delta and Chobe National Park and finally Victoria Falls, on the Zambia side. It should be very cool, so hopefully I'll have some amazing pictures to show you some day...
In the meantime, enjoy the beautiful summer days in Montreal, or wherever in the World you are!
I'm still not quite up-to-date, I still have the last week or so to blog about. I'm off tomorrow morning on a 2-week safari that takes me into South Africa's Kruger National Park (cross my fingers that I'll see lions, leopards and giraffes), Botswana's Okavango Delta and Chobe National Park and finally Victoria Falls, on the Zambia side. It should be very cool, so hopefully I'll have some amazing pictures to show you some day...
In the meantime, enjoy the beautiful summer days in Montreal, or wherever in the World you are!
Vacation time!!!
While in Storms River, Mairead raved about a place called Port St. Johns, a place she'd gone to 3 times already and spent 11 weeks earlier this year. Since my time was my own and I had no plans per se, I decided to join her there in time for her favorite backpackers' 3rd year anniversary. We booked ourselves onto the Baz Bus (a hop-on, hop-off backpacker bus), as all the other 'normal' buses were sold out and wouldn't allow us to get to Port St. Johns in time for the party. We had a 1 night pit-stop in Port Elizabeth (uneventful) and rode the bus the next day to get to PSJ.
This place is fairly remote, 1.5 hours away from the largest town in the area called Mthatha. It's in a region called the Transkei, which interestingly enough is the birthplace of Nelson Mandela and was its own country during the apartheid era (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transkei). Just the journey to PSJ was amazing to me and somehow felt like the 'Africa' I'd imagined before I arrived in South Africa. Mairead and I took a minibus taxi/shuttle from Mthatha, and while we were the only 2 passengers to start off with, we kept picking-up and dropping off people along the way. Very Asia-like, all packed in the minibus, but with the major difference of having dark faces and beautiful smiles. I loved it already!
Once in PSJ at the Jungle Monkey, I was horrified to learn that it was a 'dress' party for Friday the 13th that night ('dress' party meaning costume party for us North Americans). Yuck. At best of times, with all sorts of stuff at my disposal to dress up, I would find a way to get out of a costume party. But with just a backpack full of ratty clothes I've been wearing since October? Like I said, Yuck. But I was here to have fun if it killed me, so I made an effort. Mairead knew a lot of people there already from her previous stays, and I met one of the managers/owners daughter within minutes of our arrival. A very lovely girl, Angelea organised both Mairead and I's 'costumes' and did my hair and make-up. Mine was to be the 'morning after' look, wearing pyjamas, smudged make-up and freaky hair.
I have to say, it's a good thing I was there with a friend, cause had I been on my own, I'd have probably hid in my room for the night. It was a crazy party, with literally hundreds of people around, mostly all drunk. Plus, there was a bit of drama as some guy was caught stealing from tents and the dorm, and as per the South African way, the guys who caught him were trying to bash his head in... My stay in PSJ was off to an exciting start, that's for sure.
I obviously wasn't scared off too much, since I did end up spending a total of 3 weeks there, more than any other place on my trip so far. What did I do while there, you ask? Nothing much, I say. It was a weird time of sleeping until noon, lazing around in the afternoons, having dinner and then dancing/drinking/chatting at the bar all night. Literally all night, as I'd go to bed anywhere from 2AM to 8AM most days, with an exceptionally late/early day of going to bed at 2PM in the afternoon!
It wasn't all drunken debauchery though, I did get in some of the most amazing scenery while in the area. The Jungle Monkey crew would every once in a while bring people around to see some of the area, with a barge trip down the river, trips to a nearby airstrip up top a mountain that overlooks the whole area, trips to the beach, mini-hikes to a blowhole and trips to a shebeen (informal bar in the 'townships' of South Africa). It really is a beautiful place, and regardless of the drama of my first night there, I always felt safe.
Another trip I took while there was an overnighter to a traditional Xhosa village. The initial draw was to see the mighty Magwa Falls, a beautiful waterfall that would be overflowing after the couple of days of rain we'd just had. Because of my night owl schedule, it was a very hard thing for me to get up at 7 AM to meet the group to leave for Magwa Falls, but boy am I glad I did. We bought food at the supermarket, used minibus taxis to get to the village and started wandering around. Louie, the guy who organises these trips, is actually building his own traditional house in the village, so it didn't feel as much like an intrusion as in some villages I'd been to before. The waterfall was spectacular (you'll see eventually when I post photos), but the highlight was visiting the children at school, having them sing and dance for us, then having a traditional meal of pap and veg by the fire. More kids came by the fire that night to sing and dance some more. Amazing. The Xhosa people are very friendly, if a bit shy, and have THE most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. I felt energised by the trip, that's for sure.
After 2 weeks of 'relaxing' in PSJ, I was slowly getting ready to move on. Because there was no Internet at the Jungle Monkey, I'd been out of touch for awhile and only found out a week and a half into my stay that Visa had been trying to reach me about some fraudulent transactions on my credit card. Long story short, my credit card was somehow cloned and had about 10 ooo$ worth of transactions on it for the past 2 weeks. Visa was great in that all the transactions were cancelled, but I still had to wait to receive a new credit card. Because I was in such a remote area, it started out that I'd have it in 3-4 business days, then 5, then finally 6. This is basically the reason I ended up staying a 3rd week at the Jungle Monkey, but honestly, it wasn't a chore...
This place is fairly remote, 1.5 hours away from the largest town in the area called Mthatha. It's in a region called the Transkei, which interestingly enough is the birthplace of Nelson Mandela and was its own country during the apartheid era (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transkei). Just the journey to PSJ was amazing to me and somehow felt like the 'Africa' I'd imagined before I arrived in South Africa. Mairead and I took a minibus taxi/shuttle from Mthatha, and while we were the only 2 passengers to start off with, we kept picking-up and dropping off people along the way. Very Asia-like, all packed in the minibus, but with the major difference of having dark faces and beautiful smiles. I loved it already!
Once in PSJ at the Jungle Monkey, I was horrified to learn that it was a 'dress' party for Friday the 13th that night ('dress' party meaning costume party for us North Americans). Yuck. At best of times, with all sorts of stuff at my disposal to dress up, I would find a way to get out of a costume party. But with just a backpack full of ratty clothes I've been wearing since October? Like I said, Yuck. But I was here to have fun if it killed me, so I made an effort. Mairead knew a lot of people there already from her previous stays, and I met one of the managers/owners daughter within minutes of our arrival. A very lovely girl, Angelea organised both Mairead and I's 'costumes' and did my hair and make-up. Mine was to be the 'morning after' look, wearing pyjamas, smudged make-up and freaky hair.
I have to say, it's a good thing I was there with a friend, cause had I been on my own, I'd have probably hid in my room for the night. It was a crazy party, with literally hundreds of people around, mostly all drunk. Plus, there was a bit of drama as some guy was caught stealing from tents and the dorm, and as per the South African way, the guys who caught him were trying to bash his head in... My stay in PSJ was off to an exciting start, that's for sure.
I obviously wasn't scared off too much, since I did end up spending a total of 3 weeks there, more than any other place on my trip so far. What did I do while there, you ask? Nothing much, I say. It was a weird time of sleeping until noon, lazing around in the afternoons, having dinner and then dancing/drinking/chatting at the bar all night. Literally all night, as I'd go to bed anywhere from 2AM to 8AM most days, with an exceptionally late/early day of going to bed at 2PM in the afternoon!
It wasn't all drunken debauchery though, I did get in some of the most amazing scenery while in the area. The Jungle Monkey crew would every once in a while bring people around to see some of the area, with a barge trip down the river, trips to a nearby airstrip up top a mountain that overlooks the whole area, trips to the beach, mini-hikes to a blowhole and trips to a shebeen (informal bar in the 'townships' of South Africa). It really is a beautiful place, and regardless of the drama of my first night there, I always felt safe.
Another trip I took while there was an overnighter to a traditional Xhosa village. The initial draw was to see the mighty Magwa Falls, a beautiful waterfall that would be overflowing after the couple of days of rain we'd just had. Because of my night owl schedule, it was a very hard thing for me to get up at 7 AM to meet the group to leave for Magwa Falls, but boy am I glad I did. We bought food at the supermarket, used minibus taxis to get to the village and started wandering around. Louie, the guy who organises these trips, is actually building his own traditional house in the village, so it didn't feel as much like an intrusion as in some villages I'd been to before. The waterfall was spectacular (you'll see eventually when I post photos), but the highlight was visiting the children at school, having them sing and dance for us, then having a traditional meal of pap and veg by the fire. More kids came by the fire that night to sing and dance some more. Amazing. The Xhosa people are very friendly, if a bit shy, and have THE most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. I felt energised by the trip, that's for sure.
After 2 weeks of 'relaxing' in PSJ, I was slowly getting ready to move on. Because there was no Internet at the Jungle Monkey, I'd been out of touch for awhile and only found out a week and a half into my stay that Visa had been trying to reach me about some fraudulent transactions on my credit card. Long story short, my credit card was somehow cloned and had about 10 ooo$ worth of transactions on it for the past 2 weeks. Visa was great in that all the transactions were cancelled, but I still had to wait to receive a new credit card. Because I was in such a remote area, it started out that I'd have it in 3-4 business days, then 5, then finally 6. This is basically the reason I ended up staying a 3rd week at the Jungle Monkey, but honestly, it wasn't a chore...
Adventureland continued...
After our 2 days in Hermanus, Melissa and I then stopped in very quiet little towns along the Garden Route, the first called Swellendam and the other called Knysna. Beautiful places, both of them, but very very quiet. We were 2 of 6 guests at the backpackers in Swellendam and the only 2 guest at the one in Knysna. The highlights of my time there: a nice hike to a dried up waterfall in the forest near Swellendam and a cruise around the harbour in Knysna. Knysna is also where Melissa and I parted ways. She desperately wanted to go back to Hermanus (her story to tell, not mine), so we went our separate ways after 10 days of travelling together. I was back to my solo-traveling ways.
I went off to Storms River, home of the world's highest commercial bungee jump at 216 meters. The only reason for me stopping there was to watch the bungee jump, not do it. As I've said before, it's just not my thing. It so happened that a Canadian girl arrived the following morning to do the jump, so I was joined by Mairead, a lovely Irish girl I'd previously met on the bus to/from Hermanus, to watch her jump. We payed an extra 50 rand (approx. 7$) to walk under the bridge and watch from the platform. Now honestly, the walk to the platform was scary enough for me, as it's done on a wobbly grill and you can see straight down to the valley/river below. I made it to the jump site without looking down once. Once there, it was thrilling to see how the jumpers reacted before and after their jumps. Lots of adrenaline, for sure.
While there, the bungee crew were working hard on getting Mairead and I (i.e. the watchers) to do the jump. Actually, they didn't waste a lot of time on me, since I looked very determined that I wouldn't be jumping. But Mairead was wavering between doing it and not. Long story short (actually, a very loooong story ;-) ), she decided to do it, then spent about 20 minutes on the edge of the platform trying to jump, while constantly being reassured by the excellent crew that she could do it. She finally gave up and we walked off the bridge. At the edge of the bridge, we met 2 English lads who had bet on her jumping or not. Nicely enough, both guys, including the one who had bet against her jumping, convinced Mairead to join them and try again. So back under the bridge we went, and this time she jumped (helpfully shoved by the crew) without hesitation. It was amazing to see her overcome her fears.
The next day, I went on my own version of an adventure activity, a zip line tour above a waterfall in the Tsitsikamma National Park. There are 8 zip lines to cross in all, and the first couple of them were a bit scary, getting the hang of it and feeling confident that the damn things will be able to hold me up :-) But all in all, it was a fun thing to do, but not very adrenaline-inducing. The scenery was nice, what I actually got to see of it. You see, the guide would tell us for some of the zip lines where we should start braking. For example, start braking when you get to that big tree over there. So what would I do? Just focus on the tree and nothing else. Didn't see much of the scenery on those lines...
After the waterfall zip line tour, I headed out yet again to the bungee jump. This time to watch 2 other guys from my hostel who were doing it. Noticing a trend yet? This was now the 4th time in my trip (twice in NZ, twice in SA) that I've watched others do the bungee jump. And of course, on my last day in Storms River, sitting in the sun just hanging around and waiting for my bus to bring me to my next destination, I started regretting not doing it. Somewhere along the line, the bungee jump has become something of a symbol to me, overcoming fears, yes, but more than that, proving that it isn't too late for me to 'live' a little. Do something adventurous, exciting. Things I didn't do in my 20's and have thought I'd never get around to doing. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I think 37 is old, but still, not being fit for most of my life has left me with a body that does feel older than my age most of the time. I left Storms River with a definite sense of disappointment. Hopefully, next time I come across a bungee jump, I won't hesitate & I'll just do it.
I went off to Storms River, home of the world's highest commercial bungee jump at 216 meters. The only reason for me stopping there was to watch the bungee jump, not do it. As I've said before, it's just not my thing. It so happened that a Canadian girl arrived the following morning to do the jump, so I was joined by Mairead, a lovely Irish girl I'd previously met on the bus to/from Hermanus, to watch her jump. We payed an extra 50 rand (approx. 7$) to walk under the bridge and watch from the platform. Now honestly, the walk to the platform was scary enough for me, as it's done on a wobbly grill and you can see straight down to the valley/river below. I made it to the jump site without looking down once. Once there, it was thrilling to see how the jumpers reacted before and after their jumps. Lots of adrenaline, for sure.
While there, the bungee crew were working hard on getting Mairead and I (i.e. the watchers) to do the jump. Actually, they didn't waste a lot of time on me, since I looked very determined that I wouldn't be jumping. But Mairead was wavering between doing it and not. Long story short (actually, a very loooong story ;-) ), she decided to do it, then spent about 20 minutes on the edge of the platform trying to jump, while constantly being reassured by the excellent crew that she could do it. She finally gave up and we walked off the bridge. At the edge of the bridge, we met 2 English lads who had bet on her jumping or not. Nicely enough, both guys, including the one who had bet against her jumping, convinced Mairead to join them and try again. So back under the bridge we went, and this time she jumped (helpfully shoved by the crew) without hesitation. It was amazing to see her overcome her fears.
The next day, I went on my own version of an adventure activity, a zip line tour above a waterfall in the Tsitsikamma National Park. There are 8 zip lines to cross in all, and the first couple of them were a bit scary, getting the hang of it and feeling confident that the damn things will be able to hold me up :-) But all in all, it was a fun thing to do, but not very adrenaline-inducing. The scenery was nice, what I actually got to see of it. You see, the guide would tell us for some of the zip lines where we should start braking. For example, start braking when you get to that big tree over there. So what would I do? Just focus on the tree and nothing else. Didn't see much of the scenery on those lines...
After the waterfall zip line tour, I headed out yet again to the bungee jump. This time to watch 2 other guys from my hostel who were doing it. Noticing a trend yet? This was now the 4th time in my trip (twice in NZ, twice in SA) that I've watched others do the bungee jump. And of course, on my last day in Storms River, sitting in the sun just hanging around and waiting for my bus to bring me to my next destination, I started regretting not doing it. Somewhere along the line, the bungee jump has become something of a symbol to me, overcoming fears, yes, but more than that, proving that it isn't too late for me to 'live' a little. Do something adventurous, exciting. Things I didn't do in my 20's and have thought I'd never get around to doing. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I think 37 is old, but still, not being fit for most of my life has left me with a body that does feel older than my age most of the time. I left Storms River with a definite sense of disappointment. Hopefully, next time I come across a bungee jump, I won't hesitate & I'll just do it.
Janie in Adventureland
So far, South Africa comes in a close second to New Zealand for being the adventure capital of the world. Tons of adventure activities on offer, but it's all a bit of a waste for the non-adventure type like me, isn't it?
The first time I'd heard about shark diving, I didn't just think 'no', I thought 'Hell no!'. But as Melissa and I started the next leg of our trip down something called the Garden Route (roughly the south coast of South Africa, from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth), more & more people were talking about shark diving and how great it was. We arrived in Hermanus, our first stop after Cape Town, on a rainy cold morning. At this point, I was intrigued by the shark dive so I thought 'what the hell, I'm doing it' and booked myself into the next available trip the following day. Melissa and I spent the rest of the day in lazy style, having a nice lunch in a restaurant by the sea and walking around town, and then a not-so-lazy evening playing drinking games with the gang from the hostel. Ahem, might not have been the best idea to do that before going out to sea shark diving, but live and learn, I say.
Surprisingly enough, I was feeling fine the next morning and the weather was gorgeous, so we were good to go on the shark dive. How it works is like this: we drive to Gansbaai and take a boat out to 'Shark Alley', where more than 80% of all documentaries on Great White sharks are filmed. Winter is the perfect time to see Great White sharks, as the water is cold enough for the sharks and they just hang around near an island covered in seals, their favorite food. Once anchored in 'Shark Alley', a smelly oily mixture is thrown into the water to attract the sharks. Once one is sighted, everyone slips into a wetsuit and waits for their turn in the cage hanging off the side of the boat. Speaking of the cage, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I thought it would be completely covered in mesh, totally protected, but no, the metal bars are far enough apart for you to stick out arms, legs and head if you were feeling suicidal...
The water that day was fairly calm, but even so, our guide from the shark diving place warned us that at least some of us would be seasick, there is almost always at least a few. Until we anchored in Shark Alley, I was smugly confident that I wouldn't be one of 'those', since I hadn't ever really been seasick and I'd had a good breakfast that morning (supposedly one of the tricks against being seasick is to have something in your stomach). One of the girls from the hostel who'd also played drinking games the night before was already puking her guts out on the side of the boat before we even anchored, and I was still feeling fine, so all was good. Once the sharks arrived, I 'slipped' into my wetsuit (Huh. Wasn't easy, nor fun) and waited for my turn in the cage. I was in the 2nd group to go in the cage, packed in with 4 other people. The water was pretty cold (13-14C) but no too bad so far. When the crew sighted a shark, they'd yell "Go under! Go under!" and you'd take a deep breath, grab the bars of the cage and go down to see the shark. Crazy, but not as scary as I thought. The first time I went under, I barely lasted 5 seconds. The combination of nerves and cold water made me lose my breath in no time at all, but I got the hang of it after a few tries. The sharks we saw seemed huge to me, but really not aggressive at all. All they seemed interested in was the bait and only got close to the cage when the bait was brought there to attract them. The scariest bit for me was actually when I was floating above water and saw the shark fin floating by. Now that was scary, and all I could hear was the doo-doo, doo-doo, ... of the Jaws theme song.
Halfway through my 1st time in the cage, things went a bit awry for me. We were just bopping up and down in the cage, not having sighted a shark in a few minutes. I was cold and the queasiness I had started to feel instantly turned into full fledged nausea. I had about 30 seconds or so to warn the others stuck in the cage with me that I was about to hurl, and I tried climbing above the bars to puke over the side of the cage. The guy next to me was nice enough to drag me back inside the cage and tell me that maybe it wasn't really a good idea to have body parts hanging outside the cage while adding chum to the water... For lack of a better option, I just went under water to throw up there. Charming, isn't it? Lovely. Throwing up in a cage, stuck with 4 other people while a boat load of people are watching above me. What fun ;-)
By the time my 2nd turn in the cage came around, I could care less about seeing another shark. I was done. Fini. Finito. But still, it was a really great experience and made you realise that sharks aren't that scary... And it did make me a little bit infamous for a while there. The rest of the week, while traveling further down the Garden Route, I kept meeting people who said: "Oh! You're the girl who was sick in the cage while shark diving!" :-)
The first time I'd heard about shark diving, I didn't just think 'no', I thought 'Hell no!'. But as Melissa and I started the next leg of our trip down something called the Garden Route (roughly the south coast of South Africa, from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth), more & more people were talking about shark diving and how great it was. We arrived in Hermanus, our first stop after Cape Town, on a rainy cold morning. At this point, I was intrigued by the shark dive so I thought 'what the hell, I'm doing it' and booked myself into the next available trip the following day. Melissa and I spent the rest of the day in lazy style, having a nice lunch in a restaurant by the sea and walking around town, and then a not-so-lazy evening playing drinking games with the gang from the hostel. Ahem, might not have been the best idea to do that before going out to sea shark diving, but live and learn, I say.
Surprisingly enough, I was feeling fine the next morning and the weather was gorgeous, so we were good to go on the shark dive. How it works is like this: we drive to Gansbaai and take a boat out to 'Shark Alley', where more than 80% of all documentaries on Great White sharks are filmed. Winter is the perfect time to see Great White sharks, as the water is cold enough for the sharks and they just hang around near an island covered in seals, their favorite food. Once anchored in 'Shark Alley', a smelly oily mixture is thrown into the water to attract the sharks. Once one is sighted, everyone slips into a wetsuit and waits for their turn in the cage hanging off the side of the boat. Speaking of the cage, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I thought it would be completely covered in mesh, totally protected, but no, the metal bars are far enough apart for you to stick out arms, legs and head if you were feeling suicidal...
The water that day was fairly calm, but even so, our guide from the shark diving place warned us that at least some of us would be seasick, there is almost always at least a few. Until we anchored in Shark Alley, I was smugly confident that I wouldn't be one of 'those', since I hadn't ever really been seasick and I'd had a good breakfast that morning (supposedly one of the tricks against being seasick is to have something in your stomach). One of the girls from the hostel who'd also played drinking games the night before was already puking her guts out on the side of the boat before we even anchored, and I was still feeling fine, so all was good. Once the sharks arrived, I 'slipped' into my wetsuit (Huh. Wasn't easy, nor fun) and waited for my turn in the cage. I was in the 2nd group to go in the cage, packed in with 4 other people. The water was pretty cold (13-14C) but no too bad so far. When the crew sighted a shark, they'd yell "Go under! Go under!" and you'd take a deep breath, grab the bars of the cage and go down to see the shark. Crazy, but not as scary as I thought. The first time I went under, I barely lasted 5 seconds. The combination of nerves and cold water made me lose my breath in no time at all, but I got the hang of it after a few tries. The sharks we saw seemed huge to me, but really not aggressive at all. All they seemed interested in was the bait and only got close to the cage when the bait was brought there to attract them. The scariest bit for me was actually when I was floating above water and saw the shark fin floating by. Now that was scary, and all I could hear was the doo-doo, doo-doo, ... of the Jaws theme song.
Halfway through my 1st time in the cage, things went a bit awry for me. We were just bopping up and down in the cage, not having sighted a shark in a few minutes. I was cold and the queasiness I had started to feel instantly turned into full fledged nausea. I had about 30 seconds or so to warn the others stuck in the cage with me that I was about to hurl, and I tried climbing above the bars to puke over the side of the cage. The guy next to me was nice enough to drag me back inside the cage and tell me that maybe it wasn't really a good idea to have body parts hanging outside the cage while adding chum to the water... For lack of a better option, I just went under water to throw up there. Charming, isn't it? Lovely. Throwing up in a cage, stuck with 4 other people while a boat load of people are watching above me. What fun ;-)
By the time my 2nd turn in the cage came around, I could care less about seeing another shark. I was done. Fini. Finito. But still, it was a really great experience and made you realise that sharks aren't that scary... And it did make me a little bit infamous for a while there. The rest of the week, while traveling further down the Garden Route, I kept meeting people who said: "Oh! You're the girl who was sick in the cage while shark diving!" :-)
Howzit - part 2
OK, so I've been requested to republish this post in the correct order, since it originally showed up after an older message. Got a bit confusing and I'm not sure anyone besides Johanne actually read this thing. I posted it a week or so ago, so I've moved on since then. Watch out for more posts in the next day or so, before I head out on a 2-week safari. Yay!!!
*I'm taking a little time out from my current 'vacation' to finally update my blog a little. I'm amazed that I've been in South Africa a month already. Better update now in case I start forgetting stuff...
My first few days in South Africa were spent in some sort of 'reverse' culture shock. My first impressions were so different from what I was expecting, I realise I was pretty clueless about what South Africa would be like in the first place. The first thing that surprised me was how expensive it was compared to Asia. Now, compared to home, South Africa is still a bargain in many ways (accommodation, some food), but after having spent around 5 months in Asia where everything is dirt cheap, I spent the first week absolutely obsessing about the cost of everything. The other thing that surprised me was that South Africa wasn't at all what I thought 'Africa' would be like. Not all wild nature, safaris and black faces. Lots of cities with rich areas and plenty of white folk around.
The first stop was a short stay near Johannesburg, where I met up with Melissa. It was pretty cool to see her after 7 months away, and I really appreciated the hugs she gave me on behalf of my sisters. Now, for everyone who was worried about us being in Jo'burg (supposedly THE most dangerous city in Africa), we didn't actually stay there. We were staying in a suburb nearby. I'll admit to being intimidated to being in South Africa, especially with all the recent news about the xenophobic attacks happening here. And it didn't help my nerves any when the hostel people urged us not to walk outside at night and also liked to keep track of our whereabouts, even in the daytime. I walked to the grocery store with a young American couple my first day there and I was so stressed and paranoid, I felt I would be mugged at any minute. Thankfully, that feeling has lessened over time. There are still plenty of precautions you need to take and sometimes the advice you get from the locals seem a bit exaggerated (ex: taking a taxi to go 2 blocks at night, don't take the train that arrives in Cape Town at 6:00 PM, take the one that arrives at 5:30 PM at the latest...). It's hard to say if it's all really necessary or if there is a little paranoia involved, but whatever advice we were given, we followed, so no worries.
While near Jo'burg, we visited a lion and rhino park where we did a mini-safari. We were driven around the park trying to spot some animals (we did see an adult male lion, pretty cool) and afterwards were brought to a 'creche', where we could play with lion and tiger cubs. I thought by 'cubs', they meant small little kitty cat sized animals, but no, these cubs were already pretty big at around 4 months old. A little scary to play with, but wow, what an experience. Melissa now has a bite mark on her t-shirt as proof of our thrilling afternoon :-)
We also spent a day visiting the cultural highlights of Jo'burg. We had a driver and guide take us to Soweto, short for South West Townships, where most of Jo'burg's population reside. It was an interesting glimpse into an area that came to exist because of apartheid and how it has changed since the official end it. Our guide explained to us that Soweto is now one of the safest places to be in Jo'burg, with 'rich' and poor living side by side. We followed this up by a trip to the Apartheid museum. Even if I'm not usually a fan of museums, this one was definitely worthwhile and very interesting.
Up next was Cape Town, a city with the most impressive scenery around. The sight of the sea and Table Mountain makes Cape Town a very pretty place to visit. We were lucky enough to have excellent weather the day we went up Table Mountain, so the views were breathtaking. Can't wait to show you all some pictures, but it's going to have to, since the Internet connections here aren't up to it. We capped off our time in Cape Town by visiting Boulders Beach, where a huge penguin colony lives. Penguins, penguins everywhere, we even followed one for a while on the walkway meant for the humans. Melissa got to help a woman who worked there to catch the penguin and put him back on the beach.
That's it for now. I'll post more updates about our shark dive and what I've been up to the past 3 weeks. As of now, I'm still in a small place on the Wild Coast of South Africa called Port St Johns. I've been here already 2.5 weeks and it will have been my longest stay in a single place during all of my trip. I've been having a great time sleeping all day and dancing all night, but am feeling ready to move on again. I'm sort of 'stuck' here for the time being, waiting to receive a new credit card that was shipped to me after mine was duplicated somewhere and used to buy around 10K$ worth of stuff...
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Howzit!!!
A quick hello from South Africa!
It's amazing that it's been more than 2 weeks already since I've arrived here. I've been having an amazing time, maybe a bit too much since I haven't had a lot of time for Internet lately. To make matters worse on the Internet front, the last few places I've stayed didn't have Internet access, so I'm way behind again on both the blog and emails. Too bad, so sad.
I'll hopefully post something later on with a bit more details, but for now, I just wanted to let everyone know that I was safe and sound and having a blast. Quick highlights of what I've been up to: met Melissa, played with lion cubs, visited Soweto & the Apartheid Museum, hiked on Table Mountain in Cape Town, saw yet more penguins, dove with Great White Sharks (!!!), separated from Melissa, chickened out of the longest bungy jump in the world, ziplined over waterfalls and have been having way too much beer ;-) That's it for now!
It's amazing that it's been more than 2 weeks already since I've arrived here. I've been having an amazing time, maybe a bit too much since I haven't had a lot of time for Internet lately. To make matters worse on the Internet front, the last few places I've stayed didn't have Internet access, so I'm way behind again on both the blog and emails. Too bad, so sad.
I'll hopefully post something later on with a bit more details, but for now, I just wanted to let everyone know that I was safe and sound and having a blast. Quick highlights of what I've been up to: met Melissa, played with lion cubs, visited Soweto & the Apartheid Museum, hiked on Table Mountain in Cape Town, saw yet more penguins, dove with Great White Sharks (!!!), separated from Melissa, chickened out of the longest bungy jump in the world, ziplined over waterfalls and have been having way too much beer ;-) That's it for now!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
China wrap-up
(*I've posted 2 entries today. Make sure you read the previous one first)
Beijing was a surprise to me, much more 'Western' than I'd imagined. Maybe it's because I'd had a whole month in China already before arriving there and was now 'used to' China, but Beijing seemed very much like another big city that could have been anywhere. Lots of designer shops, western food and huge shopping malls. That being said, it still was pretty cool to see the city a few months before the Olympics. They are still very much at work getting the place 'spruced up', with tons of renovations and construction going on all around. There are so many flowers and greenery around, that you can *almost* forget that you are choking on smog all day. ;-)
I spent the first 2 days sightseeing with my friend Jennifer, who'd already been in Beijing a while when I got there. We saw the Summer Palace (the highlight was the 'pedalo' around the lake), the Temple of Heaven (lots of Chinese doing ballroom dancing around the park in the morning) and the Olympic Stadium (aka The Bird's Nest). After she left, I spread out my sightseeing over the next few days, visiting Tienanmen Square, the Forbidden City and last but certainly not least, the Great Wall.
I chose to do a 10km hike on the Great Wall, that brought you to a less busy and less restored part of the Wall. I'd heard about this hike from a lot of travellers along the way, with everyone saying that it was a hard day, but definitely worth it. As usual with anything requiring a certain level of fitness and being done in a group, I was nervous about doing it, but thought if I'd managed Mt. Huashan the week before, I could probably handle the Great Wall.
In a group of 20 or so, we were driven more than 3 hours away to the start of our hike of the Great Wall. Just so you know, the Wall is NOT a flat surface. It goes along the tops of hills and valleys, and is separated by towers every few hundred meters or so. It rises and falls before and after each tower and there were 32 towers to cross on our 10km walk. I was completely out of breath, heart pumping away and sweat drenched before even arriving at the first tower. Man, this was going to be hard, I thought. But honestly, once you get into the groove of climbing up a tower, than going down on the other side, it wasn't that bad. It was definitely hard, but I thought it was easier than the constant climbing of steps at Mt. Huashan. A lot of people were passing me on the uphill parts, but then I would pass them as they were taking breaks once up top. I was happily settled somewhere in the middle of our group and really enjoying myself.
At just about the halfway point of our hike, the wall starts sloping downwards a little bit, so the climbing is not as hard but the downhill parts are still very rocky and a bit dangerous. I was merrily walking along on one of the very rare flat surfaces of the Wall when my right ankle twisted a bit and I fell down. Those who know me well know that I ofter fall down, so I didn't think anything of it at first. I started to get up, but felt something wet on my left leg. I lifted up my pant leg to see BLOOD GUSHING OUT OF A HOLE in my knee!!! I stared dumbfounded for a few seconds, watching the blood pour out and puddle on the Wall below me. I couldn't understand it, cause 1) it didn't really hurt 2) I had no clue how it had happened 3) it wasn't a scratch, it was an honest to goodness hole in my knee! After a minute or so, the blood stopped pouring out and it was only just leaking, but I still really didn't know what to do. I just sat there and looked at it.
Finally, a group of French that I'd been passing and being passed by during the first half of the Wall came along and helped me. Out came the antiseptic wipes and tissues, and they did a good job of cleaning my knee up. They looked a bit anxious, and their tour leader ask me if I wanted her to go get my tour leader, but really, there was no point as there was nothing he could do. By this time, the very last person of my group had caught up with me, and it turns out she is a nurse. She supervised a bit more cleaning of the wound, slapped on a few bandaids and helped me up.
I can safely say that the 2nd half of the Wall was all a blur to me. Once I started walking back, the adrenaline left my body and the knee started hurting. I just kept repeating to myself: Keep going, don't stop, keep going, don't stop... At one point, I was at the back of the pack with an English family, with 2 girls in their early 20's. One girl was such a complainer, whinging the whole time, that she actually made me feel better. I was pleased with myself that I was being quite stoic, not like her, I could just hold it in now and complain later on in my blog :-) My little 'accident' also helped me get over my fear of zip lines. At the end of this portion of the Wall, you had a choice of walking another 40 minutes or so, or taking a 30 second zip line across the river. Needless to say, I chose the zip line. I was petrified the whole time, didn't really enjoy it I must admit, but I did it. There, another first for me.
So, like my sister Johanne said when I told her my story, I left my mark on the Great Wall of China that day (in the form of a nice puddle of blood), and gained a new souvenir as well. I just wish my souvenirs would take a different form than scars, I'm getting quite the collection now...
So, that wraps up my time in mainland China. I'm now in Hong Kong, getting ready for my African adventure with Melissa. I've taken it easy the past few days, read through all my Harry Potter books (sniff, sniff), and have had time to update the blog (yay!) and reflect a little bit on my time in China. All in all, China wasn't nearly as hard as I had expected it to be. My favorite part was the Yunnan province in the south, where it was a bit more rural and looked a bit more like what I expected of China. But still, I'm not saying it was a complete breeze. Not a day went by that I didn't have a communication related challenge, or I wasn't left scratching my head wondering if we all live on the same planet. Here are a few of my favorite stories:
- The spitting: you sort of get used to it after a while, hearing men AND women spitting like they were hacking up their lungs, but still, it's no fun... I was sitting in a restaurant in Lijiang with my Dutch friends, when we all heard that familiar sound, that hrrrraaaa sort of sound that precedes the spitting. A look of horror crossed all 3 of our faces when we realised it was going on just a bit too long, longer than usual. I turned around to look at the source of the noise, only to realise it was a cappuccino machine!!!
- Chinese helpfulness: Because we don't speak the same language, a lot of the Chinese look a bit panicked when you approach them for anything. They're worried you'll ask them something and that they won't be able to help you, I think. That's why I always brought along directions in Chinese wherever I went. But sometimes, you get people that can't help themselves but wanting to 'help' you, even if you don't need it. Case in point: I managed quite well to get myself to the Emperor's tomb in Xi'an via public transportation, with a few directions written in Chinese and instructions from my hostel. After visiting the museum and site, I expected to get back the same way I came and got on the bus that had dropped me off at the museum. The ticket seller didn't speak any English and panicked when I pointed to where I was going (the tickets are sold based on your destination, so you have to tell them where you are going). Knowing I came from there just that morning, I knew I was on the right bus and didn't need any help to go back, but the girl seemed worried I'd get lost or didn't know what I was doing. The whole bus started speaking Chinese, all looking at me worriedly. One guy spoke both Chinese and English, so he tried to reassure the ticket seller after I told him I knew what I was doing. She charged me a random price (cheaper than that morning), but I thought nothing of it. Off we went. No more than 10 minutes later, still very far outside the city walls, the bus stopped and a few passengers got off. Both the bus driver and the ticket seller looked at me, waiting. I shook my head no, this is not my stop, but they were insistent. Another Chinese man intervened, said he'd 'help' me to get where I wanted to go. Even after insisting to them that I didn't need help, I knew quite well where I was going, they wouldn't hear any of it. I eventually had to get off the bus, only to be 'helped' by a man who really didn't know any better than me how to get back to my hostel. Every time a bus came by, he'd look at the sign to see if it went anywhere near where I was going, but he was so slow, the bus would leave before he could be sure. I finally just pointed to a big double-decker bus packed with people and asked him if it went to the city center. It did, so I hopped on and figured it would get me close enough that I could walk the rest of the way from there. I was so happy to be 'helped' that day!
- Picture taking: I really still don't understand why some folks just HAVE TO get a picture of Westerners. I've had quite a few camera phone pictures taken of me, and some people just walk up to you and ask to have their picture taken with you. At Mt. Huashan, this girl just grabbed my arm, dragged my away to a nice viewpoint where a professional photographer stood, sat me down and had our photo taken. Why did she want a picture of us so badly she was willing to pay for it? Who knows...
- Being clueless: Because all the signs are in Chinese, you get used to being a bit clueless wherever you go. I just go about my business in my own little bubble, unaware of all the rules, explanations, history lessons, given by either tour guides or the little signs hanging everywhere. The same thing applies to restaurants, and the food they bring you. Having dinner at a renowned Xi'an restaurant with Michelle and Pierre after our day at Mt. Huashan, I was so starved that I instantly grabbed the bread-like hard cookie/cake thing they put on the table when we arrived. Halfway through the bread thingy, I see that I've caused a bit of an uproar with a few of the waitresses, all pointing at me eating and shyly laughing. They went to get the headwaiter, who then came and explained to us that what I was eating was in fact a raw bread cake, that is usually cut up in tiny pieces into a soup at the end of the meal. Who knew?
Beijing was a surprise to me, much more 'Western' than I'd imagined. Maybe it's because I'd had a whole month in China already before arriving there and was now 'used to' China, but Beijing seemed very much like another big city that could have been anywhere. Lots of designer shops, western food and huge shopping malls. That being said, it still was pretty cool to see the city a few months before the Olympics. They are still very much at work getting the place 'spruced up', with tons of renovations and construction going on all around. There are so many flowers and greenery around, that you can *almost* forget that you are choking on smog all day. ;-)
I spent the first 2 days sightseeing with my friend Jennifer, who'd already been in Beijing a while when I got there. We saw the Summer Palace (the highlight was the 'pedalo' around the lake), the Temple of Heaven (lots of Chinese doing ballroom dancing around the park in the morning) and the Olympic Stadium (aka The Bird's Nest). After she left, I spread out my sightseeing over the next few days, visiting Tienanmen Square, the Forbidden City and last but certainly not least, the Great Wall.
I chose to do a 10km hike on the Great Wall, that brought you to a less busy and less restored part of the Wall. I'd heard about this hike from a lot of travellers along the way, with everyone saying that it was a hard day, but definitely worth it. As usual with anything requiring a certain level of fitness and being done in a group, I was nervous about doing it, but thought if I'd managed Mt. Huashan the week before, I could probably handle the Great Wall.
In a group of 20 or so, we were driven more than 3 hours away to the start of our hike of the Great Wall. Just so you know, the Wall is NOT a flat surface. It goes along the tops of hills and valleys, and is separated by towers every few hundred meters or so. It rises and falls before and after each tower and there were 32 towers to cross on our 10km walk. I was completely out of breath, heart pumping away and sweat drenched before even arriving at the first tower. Man, this was going to be hard, I thought. But honestly, once you get into the groove of climbing up a tower, than going down on the other side, it wasn't that bad. It was definitely hard, but I thought it was easier than the constant climbing of steps at Mt. Huashan. A lot of people were passing me on the uphill parts, but then I would pass them as they were taking breaks once up top. I was happily settled somewhere in the middle of our group and really enjoying myself.
At just about the halfway point of our hike, the wall starts sloping downwards a little bit, so the climbing is not as hard but the downhill parts are still very rocky and a bit dangerous. I was merrily walking along on one of the very rare flat surfaces of the Wall when my right ankle twisted a bit and I fell down. Those who know me well know that I ofter fall down, so I didn't think anything of it at first. I started to get up, but felt something wet on my left leg. I lifted up my pant leg to see BLOOD GUSHING OUT OF A HOLE in my knee!!! I stared dumbfounded for a few seconds, watching the blood pour out and puddle on the Wall below me. I couldn't understand it, cause 1) it didn't really hurt 2) I had no clue how it had happened 3) it wasn't a scratch, it was an honest to goodness hole in my knee! After a minute or so, the blood stopped pouring out and it was only just leaking, but I still really didn't know what to do. I just sat there and looked at it.
Finally, a group of French that I'd been passing and being passed by during the first half of the Wall came along and helped me. Out came the antiseptic wipes and tissues, and they did a good job of cleaning my knee up. They looked a bit anxious, and their tour leader ask me if I wanted her to go get my tour leader, but really, there was no point as there was nothing he could do. By this time, the very last person of my group had caught up with me, and it turns out she is a nurse. She supervised a bit more cleaning of the wound, slapped on a few bandaids and helped me up.
I can safely say that the 2nd half of the Wall was all a blur to me. Once I started walking back, the adrenaline left my body and the knee started hurting. I just kept repeating to myself: Keep going, don't stop, keep going, don't stop... At one point, I was at the back of the pack with an English family, with 2 girls in their early 20's. One girl was such a complainer, whinging the whole time, that she actually made me feel better. I was pleased with myself that I was being quite stoic, not like her, I could just hold it in now and complain later on in my blog :-) My little 'accident' also helped me get over my fear of zip lines. At the end of this portion of the Wall, you had a choice of walking another 40 minutes or so, or taking a 30 second zip line across the river. Needless to say, I chose the zip line. I was petrified the whole time, didn't really enjoy it I must admit, but I did it. There, another first for me.
So, like my sister Johanne said when I told her my story, I left my mark on the Great Wall of China that day (in the form of a nice puddle of blood), and gained a new souvenir as well. I just wish my souvenirs would take a different form than scars, I'm getting quite the collection now...
So, that wraps up my time in mainland China. I'm now in Hong Kong, getting ready for my African adventure with Melissa. I've taken it easy the past few days, read through all my Harry Potter books (sniff, sniff), and have had time to update the blog (yay!) and reflect a little bit on my time in China. All in all, China wasn't nearly as hard as I had expected it to be. My favorite part was the Yunnan province in the south, where it was a bit more rural and looked a bit more like what I expected of China. But still, I'm not saying it was a complete breeze. Not a day went by that I didn't have a communication related challenge, or I wasn't left scratching my head wondering if we all live on the same planet. Here are a few of my favorite stories:
- The spitting: you sort of get used to it after a while, hearing men AND women spitting like they were hacking up their lungs, but still, it's no fun... I was sitting in a restaurant in Lijiang with my Dutch friends, when we all heard that familiar sound, that hrrrraaaa sort of sound that precedes the spitting. A look of horror crossed all 3 of our faces when we realised it was going on just a bit too long, longer than usual. I turned around to look at the source of the noise, only to realise it was a cappuccino machine!!!
- Chinese helpfulness: Because we don't speak the same language, a lot of the Chinese look a bit panicked when you approach them for anything. They're worried you'll ask them something and that they won't be able to help you, I think. That's why I always brought along directions in Chinese wherever I went. But sometimes, you get people that can't help themselves but wanting to 'help' you, even if you don't need it. Case in point: I managed quite well to get myself to the Emperor's tomb in Xi'an via public transportation, with a few directions written in Chinese and instructions from my hostel. After visiting the museum and site, I expected to get back the same way I came and got on the bus that had dropped me off at the museum. The ticket seller didn't speak any English and panicked when I pointed to where I was going (the tickets are sold based on your destination, so you have to tell them where you are going). Knowing I came from there just that morning, I knew I was on the right bus and didn't need any help to go back, but the girl seemed worried I'd get lost or didn't know what I was doing. The whole bus started speaking Chinese, all looking at me worriedly. One guy spoke both Chinese and English, so he tried to reassure the ticket seller after I told him I knew what I was doing. She charged me a random price (cheaper than that morning), but I thought nothing of it. Off we went. No more than 10 minutes later, still very far outside the city walls, the bus stopped and a few passengers got off. Both the bus driver and the ticket seller looked at me, waiting. I shook my head no, this is not my stop, but they were insistent. Another Chinese man intervened, said he'd 'help' me to get where I wanted to go. Even after insisting to them that I didn't need help, I knew quite well where I was going, they wouldn't hear any of it. I eventually had to get off the bus, only to be 'helped' by a man who really didn't know any better than me how to get back to my hostel. Every time a bus came by, he'd look at the sign to see if it went anywhere near where I was going, but he was so slow, the bus would leave before he could be sure. I finally just pointed to a big double-decker bus packed with people and asked him if it went to the city center. It did, so I hopped on and figured it would get me close enough that I could walk the rest of the way from there. I was so happy to be 'helped' that day!
- Picture taking: I really still don't understand why some folks just HAVE TO get a picture of Westerners. I've had quite a few camera phone pictures taken of me, and some people just walk up to you and ask to have their picture taken with you. At Mt. Huashan, this girl just grabbed my arm, dragged my away to a nice viewpoint where a professional photographer stood, sat me down and had our photo taken. Why did she want a picture of us so badly she was willing to pay for it? Who knows...
- Being clueless: Because all the signs are in Chinese, you get used to being a bit clueless wherever you go. I just go about my business in my own little bubble, unaware of all the rules, explanations, history lessons, given by either tour guides or the little signs hanging everywhere. The same thing applies to restaurants, and the food they bring you. Having dinner at a renowned Xi'an restaurant with Michelle and Pierre after our day at Mt. Huashan, I was so starved that I instantly grabbed the bread-like hard cookie/cake thing they put on the table when we arrived. Halfway through the bread thingy, I see that I've caused a bit of an uproar with a few of the waitresses, all pointing at me eating and shyly laughing. They went to get the headwaiter, who then came and explained to us that what I was eating was in fact a raw bread cake, that is usually cut up in tiny pieces into a soup at the end of the meal. Who knew?
Killing time in Xi'an
So, even though Xi'an wouldn't have been my first choice to spend an extra week in China, I still managed to occupy my time and enjoy myself.
I first amused myself by catching the 4th cold of my trip. Yes, that's right, the 4th one. It was loads of fun, I assure you. I can safely say that I wasn't a very popular dorm mate for the first few days, what with all the nose blowing, coughing fits and cold-induced snoring that even woke me up...
I also took advantage of this break to get started on a Harry Potter obsession that has only just finished today. Since I was going to be in Xi'an a while, I decided to visit the English language book store for some books. I haven't been reading much lately, too busy I guess :-), but a nice book would be a good way to pass some time I thought. I first bought book #3 in the series, thinking that I'd only read the first 2, only to discover after the first 2 chapters that not only had I already read the book, but seen the movie as well! I guess the title just wasn't memorable to me. It was an interesting challenge to return the book and try to explain all of this to the Chinese clerk, but I managed and left the shop with book #4 with me. Books #5 and #6 were bought and read in Beijing, while book #7 I bought 2 days ago on my arrival in Hong Kong. I'm feeling a bit bereft this morning, as I just finished the last book. I now can't wait to see the movies...
Between a lot of reading and blowing my nose, I also managed to get in a bit more sightseeing in the area. I spent one entertaining day visiting another Emperor's tomb in the area. This Emperor was not quite as 'grandiose' as Qin #1 of the Terracotta Warrior fame, as he had himself buried with an army of 2-foot tall soldiers instead of the life size version. The museum and archaeological site surrounding the tomb was very interesting and a lot quieter to visit than the Terracotta Warriors.
But my favorite day-trip of all was visiting one of China's 'Sacred Mountains' called Mt. Huashan. I went there with a couple from Montreal (Michelle and Pierre) that I met at the hostel in Xi'an. By the way, I had the most 'Quebecer sightings' while in Xi'an, by far. At my hostel only, I met 3 different couples as well as 1 solo guy, all from Quebec, which is more than the whole of South East Asia I think! But back to Mt. Huashan. I had seen some incredible pictures of the mountain at the hostel and was looking forward to going there. I knew there was a cable car that brought you to the top of the mountain, so I thought my day would be spent slowly and gently walking around the top of the mountain, taking a few pictures and then heading back. I was sooo wrong. It turns out that yes, there is a cable car that brings you to the top of the mountain, but then there are many different peaks you can walk to, all with amazing views of the mountain and surrounding area. Being a very popular sacred mountain with the Chinese, they've built stone and concrete steps to every peak for the tourists to use. As I got off the cable car, we saw a path to one of the peaks and started climbing the steps. It's a good thing that I didn't know how many steps were involved before I started out that morning, cause I don't think I would have been able to face it. Around 2000 steps later (!!!) and I was done in. I managed to climb to the West Peak and South Peak and got to see some very impressive views. Made even more impressive by the effort it me took to get my butt up there!
I visited Mount Huashan on the day of the earthquake. I've told everyone that I didn't really feel it on that day, but I got a weird feeling on the mountain at one point, that I've come to realise was the earthquake. As Michelle and I were coming down the steps heading back to the cable car, at one point my legs got very wobbly and I had trouble standing straight. I thought I was dizzy from the exertion, so I stopped for a few seconds to stabilize, but the feeling continued a few more seconds after that. Nothing dramatic, but I now realise this was the earthquake going through Huashan, more than 1000km away and 1600m up from the epicenter. I still feel very lucky to have missed it, after all the devastation and bad news coming out since it happened.
I did finally get my passport back, a whole 8 days after I arrived in Xi'an. Once I got it, I booked myself on the next train out of there, heading to Beijing...
I first amused myself by catching the 4th cold of my trip. Yes, that's right, the 4th one. It was loads of fun, I assure you. I can safely say that I wasn't a very popular dorm mate for the first few days, what with all the nose blowing, coughing fits and cold-induced snoring that even woke me up...
I also took advantage of this break to get started on a Harry Potter obsession that has only just finished today. Since I was going to be in Xi'an a while, I decided to visit the English language book store for some books. I haven't been reading much lately, too busy I guess :-), but a nice book would be a good way to pass some time I thought. I first bought book #3 in the series, thinking that I'd only read the first 2, only to discover after the first 2 chapters that not only had I already read the book, but seen the movie as well! I guess the title just wasn't memorable to me. It was an interesting challenge to return the book and try to explain all of this to the Chinese clerk, but I managed and left the shop with book #4 with me. Books #5 and #6 were bought and read in Beijing, while book #7 I bought 2 days ago on my arrival in Hong Kong. I'm feeling a bit bereft this morning, as I just finished the last book. I now can't wait to see the movies...
Between a lot of reading and blowing my nose, I also managed to get in a bit more sightseeing in the area. I spent one entertaining day visiting another Emperor's tomb in the area. This Emperor was not quite as 'grandiose' as Qin #1 of the Terracotta Warrior fame, as he had himself buried with an army of 2-foot tall soldiers instead of the life size version. The museum and archaeological site surrounding the tomb was very interesting and a lot quieter to visit than the Terracotta Warriors.
But my favorite day-trip of all was visiting one of China's 'Sacred Mountains' called Mt. Huashan. I went there with a couple from Montreal (Michelle and Pierre) that I met at the hostel in Xi'an. By the way, I had the most 'Quebecer sightings' while in Xi'an, by far. At my hostel only, I met 3 different couples as well as 1 solo guy, all from Quebec, which is more than the whole of South East Asia I think! But back to Mt. Huashan. I had seen some incredible pictures of the mountain at the hostel and was looking forward to going there. I knew there was a cable car that brought you to the top of the mountain, so I thought my day would be spent slowly and gently walking around the top of the mountain, taking a few pictures and then heading back. I was sooo wrong. It turns out that yes, there is a cable car that brings you to the top of the mountain, but then there are many different peaks you can walk to, all with amazing views of the mountain and surrounding area. Being a very popular sacred mountain with the Chinese, they've built stone and concrete steps to every peak for the tourists to use. As I got off the cable car, we saw a path to one of the peaks and started climbing the steps. It's a good thing that I didn't know how many steps were involved before I started out that morning, cause I don't think I would have been able to face it. Around 2000 steps later (!!!) and I was done in. I managed to climb to the West Peak and South Peak and got to see some very impressive views. Made even more impressive by the effort it me took to get my butt up there!
I visited Mount Huashan on the day of the earthquake. I've told everyone that I didn't really feel it on that day, but I got a weird feeling on the mountain at one point, that I've come to realise was the earthquake. As Michelle and I were coming down the steps heading back to the cable car, at one point my legs got very wobbly and I had trouble standing straight. I thought I was dizzy from the exertion, so I stopped for a few seconds to stabilize, but the feeling continued a few more seconds after that. Nothing dramatic, but I now realise this was the earthquake going through Huashan, more than 1000km away and 1600m up from the epicenter. I still feel very lucky to have missed it, after all the devastation and bad news coming out since it happened.
I did finally get my passport back, a whole 8 days after I arrived in Xi'an. Once I got it, I booked myself on the next train out of there, heading to Beijing...
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Guardian angels working overtime
I've said before that my guardian angels I got before leaving on my trip were working out very well for me, keeping me safe throughout my trip, but I think they have been working overtime lately.
As I'm sure you are all well aware by now, a major earthquake hit China earlier this week. The epicenter was near Chengdu, which I'd left just a few days before. I was staying in Xi'an when it hit, which is a 1000 km or so away from Chengdu, and still the earthquake could be felt and even damaged buildings in the area. Robyn, the American woman I saw the pandas and Giant Buddha with, was actually at the Chengdu airport at the time of the earthquake, and while she didn't see anyone get hurt and she herself was fine, it seemed like a very chaotic and scary situation that I'm glad I didn't have to go through. My luck hasn't run out yet.
I ended up spending 8 days in Xi'an, which is way longer than I'd planned to. A bit of bad planning and a minor dose of bad luck left me somewhat stranded there without really wanting to. All this because I needed to extend my Chinese visa by 2 weeks, so that I could make the most of my time before heading off to South-Africa to meet my niece Melissa at the end of May. To extend your visa, you need to visit a Public Safety Bureau (PSB) and fill-out a form. The processing of your visa extension is variable, from same-day to 5 days, depending on which city you apply for it. Without my Lonely Planet (yeah, that again), I didn't really have all the information I needed to make a good choice as to where to apply for the visa extension. I could have done it in Lijiang for example, I've now read that that is a good, fast place to do it in. I knew I had to do it before Beijing, as processing delays would be longer there (why? I don't really know. Something to do with the Olympics, as with everything in China these days). Why didn't I do it in Chengdu, when I was taking that nice long break? Umm, maybe because I'm a procrastinator? Yeah, that's probably why. No other good reason.
I got to Xi'an on Tuesday May 6 after taking a cheap flight, the same one my new friend Jennifer was taking. She was scheduled to be in Xi'an for a day and a half, so I changed my plans from taking a train to taking a plane to be there the same time as she. We walked around the town on that very hot first day, and I made a point of looking for the PSB office as soon as we got there. The PSB office was very clearly located on my map of Xi'an, so it should have been an easy place to find. But no, even after asking a few people, we could not find it anywhere near where it was supposed to be, so I gave up. I figured I'd ask for clearer directions at the hostels.
The next day was my 'Terracotta warriors' day (more on that later), so I couldn't go to the PSB. Finally, on Thursday morning I ask for directions to the PSB at the travel desk at my hostel, only to find out that it has only just recently moved to a totally different area of the city, which explained why I couldn't find it on that first day. I amazingly managed to get there without getting lost, which is quite surprising with all the mistake possibilities that ensue from taking a bus to go somewhere in China. First of all, I was told I could take bus #6 or #311 to get there, and was pointed in the general direction of the bus stop. As soon as I got to the bus stop, I saw a bus #6 stop, so I got on and showed the driver the name of the street I wanted to stop at. At first he didn't even want me to show him my paper, cause he assumed it would be in English and he couldn't help me, but when I insisted, he eventually took a look at it and shook his head no. He used the hand signal for the number 6 and kept pointing it at my face until I somehow understood that he was telling my that there was another bus #6 and this wasn't the right one. Ooookay, that makes things simple. Same number buses that go different places? (It turns out one #6 bus has a Chinese character after the number. So it's something like bus '6b' or 'tourist bus 6' instead of just plain 6)
With some good luck and a little bit of help from a Chinese lady in my bus, I eventually got off at the right stop. But it's amazing how every little thing become difficult when you can't read the signs around you or you don't have references to help you find your way. The directions I got at the hostel said: "Get off the bus, turn right, walk 2 minutes and you will see a large building on your left. That's where you want to go." So I got off the bus, turned right and walked a few minutes until I decided that something was not quite right. I went back to the bus stop and started over. I will save you the long boring details, but about 45 minutes later I found the place. The actual directions I should have gotten are this: Get off the bus, turn left, walk to the next street corner, cross the street, turn right and it's the first building on your left". It sounds close, but it's not quite the same thing.
The visa extension application process was really an entertaining look into Chinese bureaucracy. I first had to fill in a form (in Chinese, but with an English translation posted on the wall that you could refer to) and give them 1 passport-sized photo. I then had to get my passport id page and visa photocopied, so that meant braving the hordes of Chinese fighting for the next chance at the photocopy machine. It's an amazing site to see and the pushing and shoving these relatively small men and woman can do is almost scary. When I first saw the 'line' at the photocopier, I actually laughed out loud. In this very small area no bigger than a toilet stall, a dozen or so people were coming dangerously close to trampling each other. I took a deep breath, figuratively rolled up my sleeves and dove right in. I used my size and my elbows to make sure that no one would cut in from behind me, and made it out alive only to realise after leaving the room that the girl didn't photocopy the right pages. Doh. I turned around, went back in and lo and behold! there was now an actual line, with people standing respectfully one behind the other! I could not believe it, as I was there 2 minutes before and it was chaos! I get in line to wait my turn, and after a few minutes, chaos starts up again. I realised that the ladies working the photocopier try very hard to get people to respect a line, but that it is a constant struggle and if they stop yelling at people for 2 seconds, the pushing and shoving starts again. The concept of lines, or queuing as it's known elsewhere in the world, is very new to the Chinese and will definitely take some time before it becomes common practice.
After the photocopies, I go back to the lady taking my visa extension application and she then takes my picture. Why did I have to give them a photo if they are only going to take another one anyways? Who knows. And why the photocopies when they have the original passport? Again, who knows. Next up: go back to another scary 'line' to pay for my visa extension. Once that is all done, I sit in front of the lady while she types away at her keyboard for what seems like 10 minutes, thinking 'Wow! This is cool, she's probably processing my visa extension right away'. It's taking so long and she seems to be working hard, so she must be getting everything done then and there, right? Wrong. I only get a little receipt that says I can pick up my passport on the 14th, a whole WEEK later. I simply couldn't believe that I'd have to stay in Xi'an a whole week just waiting for my passport. I sat there in shock for 5 minutes, with the lady just ignoring me while I absorbed the news...
It's not to say the Xi'an wasn't a nice place to stay, but still, a whole week seemed a bit much, especially since I had already seen the main thing I wanted to in Xi'an, which was the Terracotta warriors. And doesn't it defeat the purpose, getting a 2-week extension only to have to spend 1 of them waiting for the passport? Whatever, these things happen and there are worse things then spending a week in a Chinese city, like actually working for example ;-)
Like I said, my main reason for going to Xi'an was to see the Terracotta warriors. Since my friend Jennifer only had 1 day to see all the sights, we decided to make the most of it by booking a day tour. Even if I hesitated a bit before booking (it would have been cheaper to do on our own), I was sooo not disappointed with the tour, as we had an excellent guide and a nice gang of people. Our guide gave us a bit of the history of Xi'an before we started seeing the sights, so we actually understood what we were seeing for a change. We saw the ruins of a prehistoric village (pretty cool), a replica of the 1st Qing Emperor's tomb (a bit cheesy, but still OK), and then the piece de resistance, the Terracotta Warriors. Now some people say they are disappointed when they actually get to see them, because you can't really see them up close, but I don't get the disappointment. It was a very cool moment for me, one of the moments I get chills just thinking how amazing it is for me to actually be there, seeing these warriors that I'd heard about back home, just sitting on my butt, watching TV. Are the warriors themselves worth traveling half-way across the world to see them? It's hard to say, but probably not. But for me, it reminded me that what I'm doing this year is very special and exciting. And the story behind the actual warriors is pretty cool too. To think that a human being (the Emperor) is believed to be so important and has such a huge ego that he built an actual life size army to protect him in his afterlife, and then buried them and the real people who made them at his death, is unbelievable. Gives my goosebumps.
I will eventually post the pictures I took of the warriors, but as usual, they don't really do the moment justice. At least they'll help remind me of that great day I spent in Xi'an.
As I'm sure you are all well aware by now, a major earthquake hit China earlier this week. The epicenter was near Chengdu, which I'd left just a few days before. I was staying in Xi'an when it hit, which is a 1000 km or so away from Chengdu, and still the earthquake could be felt and even damaged buildings in the area. Robyn, the American woman I saw the pandas and Giant Buddha with, was actually at the Chengdu airport at the time of the earthquake, and while she didn't see anyone get hurt and she herself was fine, it seemed like a very chaotic and scary situation that I'm glad I didn't have to go through. My luck hasn't run out yet.
I ended up spending 8 days in Xi'an, which is way longer than I'd planned to. A bit of bad planning and a minor dose of bad luck left me somewhat stranded there without really wanting to. All this because I needed to extend my Chinese visa by 2 weeks, so that I could make the most of my time before heading off to South-Africa to meet my niece Melissa at the end of May. To extend your visa, you need to visit a Public Safety Bureau (PSB) and fill-out a form. The processing of your visa extension is variable, from same-day to 5 days, depending on which city you apply for it. Without my Lonely Planet (yeah, that again), I didn't really have all the information I needed to make a good choice as to where to apply for the visa extension. I could have done it in Lijiang for example, I've now read that that is a good, fast place to do it in. I knew I had to do it before Beijing, as processing delays would be longer there (why? I don't really know. Something to do with the Olympics, as with everything in China these days). Why didn't I do it in Chengdu, when I was taking that nice long break? Umm, maybe because I'm a procrastinator? Yeah, that's probably why. No other good reason.
I got to Xi'an on Tuesday May 6 after taking a cheap flight, the same one my new friend Jennifer was taking. She was scheduled to be in Xi'an for a day and a half, so I changed my plans from taking a train to taking a plane to be there the same time as she. We walked around the town on that very hot first day, and I made a point of looking for the PSB office as soon as we got there. The PSB office was very clearly located on my map of Xi'an, so it should have been an easy place to find. But no, even after asking a few people, we could not find it anywhere near where it was supposed to be, so I gave up. I figured I'd ask for clearer directions at the hostels.
The next day was my 'Terracotta warriors' day (more on that later), so I couldn't go to the PSB. Finally, on Thursday morning I ask for directions to the PSB at the travel desk at my hostel, only to find out that it has only just recently moved to a totally different area of the city, which explained why I couldn't find it on that first day. I amazingly managed to get there without getting lost, which is quite surprising with all the mistake possibilities that ensue from taking a bus to go somewhere in China. First of all, I was told I could take bus #6 or #311 to get there, and was pointed in the general direction of the bus stop. As soon as I got to the bus stop, I saw a bus #6 stop, so I got on and showed the driver the name of the street I wanted to stop at. At first he didn't even want me to show him my paper, cause he assumed it would be in English and he couldn't help me, but when I insisted, he eventually took a look at it and shook his head no. He used the hand signal for the number 6 and kept pointing it at my face until I somehow understood that he was telling my that there was another bus #6 and this wasn't the right one. Ooookay, that makes things simple. Same number buses that go different places? (It turns out one #6 bus has a Chinese character after the number. So it's something like bus '6b' or 'tourist bus 6' instead of just plain 6)
With some good luck and a little bit of help from a Chinese lady in my bus, I eventually got off at the right stop. But it's amazing how every little thing become difficult when you can't read the signs around you or you don't have references to help you find your way. The directions I got at the hostel said: "Get off the bus, turn right, walk 2 minutes and you will see a large building on your left. That's where you want to go." So I got off the bus, turned right and walked a few minutes until I decided that something was not quite right. I went back to the bus stop and started over. I will save you the long boring details, but about 45 minutes later I found the place. The actual directions I should have gotten are this: Get off the bus, turn left, walk to the next street corner, cross the street, turn right and it's the first building on your left". It sounds close, but it's not quite the same thing.
The visa extension application process was really an entertaining look into Chinese bureaucracy. I first had to fill in a form (in Chinese, but with an English translation posted on the wall that you could refer to) and give them 1 passport-sized photo. I then had to get my passport id page and visa photocopied, so that meant braving the hordes of Chinese fighting for the next chance at the photocopy machine. It's an amazing site to see and the pushing and shoving these relatively small men and woman can do is almost scary. When I first saw the 'line' at the photocopier, I actually laughed out loud. In this very small area no bigger than a toilet stall, a dozen or so people were coming dangerously close to trampling each other. I took a deep breath, figuratively rolled up my sleeves and dove right in. I used my size and my elbows to make sure that no one would cut in from behind me, and made it out alive only to realise after leaving the room that the girl didn't photocopy the right pages. Doh. I turned around, went back in and lo and behold! there was now an actual line, with people standing respectfully one behind the other! I could not believe it, as I was there 2 minutes before and it was chaos! I get in line to wait my turn, and after a few minutes, chaos starts up again. I realised that the ladies working the photocopier try very hard to get people to respect a line, but that it is a constant struggle and if they stop yelling at people for 2 seconds, the pushing and shoving starts again. The concept of lines, or queuing as it's known elsewhere in the world, is very new to the Chinese and will definitely take some time before it becomes common practice.
After the photocopies, I go back to the lady taking my visa extension application and she then takes my picture. Why did I have to give them a photo if they are only going to take another one anyways? Who knows. And why the photocopies when they have the original passport? Again, who knows. Next up: go back to another scary 'line' to pay for my visa extension. Once that is all done, I sit in front of the lady while she types away at her keyboard for what seems like 10 minutes, thinking 'Wow! This is cool, she's probably processing my visa extension right away'. It's taking so long and she seems to be working hard, so she must be getting everything done then and there, right? Wrong. I only get a little receipt that says I can pick up my passport on the 14th, a whole WEEK later. I simply couldn't believe that I'd have to stay in Xi'an a whole week just waiting for my passport. I sat there in shock for 5 minutes, with the lady just ignoring me while I absorbed the news...
It's not to say the Xi'an wasn't a nice place to stay, but still, a whole week seemed a bit much, especially since I had already seen the main thing I wanted to in Xi'an, which was the Terracotta warriors. And doesn't it defeat the purpose, getting a 2-week extension only to have to spend 1 of them waiting for the passport? Whatever, these things happen and there are worse things then spending a week in a Chinese city, like actually working for example ;-)
Like I said, my main reason for going to Xi'an was to see the Terracotta warriors. Since my friend Jennifer only had 1 day to see all the sights, we decided to make the most of it by booking a day tour. Even if I hesitated a bit before booking (it would have been cheaper to do on our own), I was sooo not disappointed with the tour, as we had an excellent guide and a nice gang of people. Our guide gave us a bit of the history of Xi'an before we started seeing the sights, so we actually understood what we were seeing for a change. We saw the ruins of a prehistoric village (pretty cool), a replica of the 1st Qing Emperor's tomb (a bit cheesy, but still OK), and then the piece de resistance, the Terracotta Warriors. Now some people say they are disappointed when they actually get to see them, because you can't really see them up close, but I don't get the disappointment. It was a very cool moment for me, one of the moments I get chills just thinking how amazing it is for me to actually be there, seeing these warriors that I'd heard about back home, just sitting on my butt, watching TV. Are the warriors themselves worth traveling half-way across the world to see them? It's hard to say, but probably not. But for me, it reminded me that what I'm doing this year is very special and exciting. And the story behind the actual warriors is pretty cool too. To think that a human being (the Emperor) is believed to be so important and has such a huge ego that he built an actual life size army to protect him in his afterlife, and then buried them and the real people who made them at his death, is unbelievable. Gives my goosebumps.
I will eventually post the pictures I took of the warriors, but as usual, they don't really do the moment justice. At least they'll help remind me of that great day I spent in Xi'an.
Pandas, Buddhas and Opera
The last time I posted something, I was getting ready for a 2-day travel extravaganza to get from Lijiang to Chengdu.
The traveling went well, with just a few minor hiccups, as can be expected. My trip from Lijiang to Kunming was an overnighter, by sleeper bus. Now the sleeper bus was a new one for me, having thus far avoided taking one since I don't like traveling at night. I was a bit, I don't know, skeptical I guess is the word, that it would be comfortable or a good way to travel, but it really was pretty OK. The sleeper bus consist of many rows of bunk beds, both lower and upper ones. The beds are very narrow, short and have somewhat of a slope to them, the head area being higher than the feet area. I of course had a top bunk (is there really any other one available for a plus-size non Asian person???), but was very (very very) thankful that I had a 'single' bunk instead of the 'triple' or even 'quadruple' ones at the back of the bus. They still are individual spots for each person, but in some cases there are no separations between the beds, so you are in fact just basically lying 3 (or 4) people in the same small area. Case in point: the 2 Chinese girls in the row next to me were not impressed when they ended up sharing a bed with a middle-aged man. They giggled for 5 minutes, then tried everything to avoid touching him for the rest of the night. Good luck with that, even for skinny Chinese girls...
The bus left at 7PM and by 7:05PM it seems everyone on the bus was already asleep, save for me. I haven't quite learned to condition myself to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, so by 2AM I was wondering if I ever was going to sleep that night. I did eventually fall asleep, but then the bus stops every so often to let you pee or buy food, like at 10PM, 12AM, 3AM, so you never sleep for very long. At least the girl I bought my ticket from said that they let you sleep on the bus until about 7AM, even if they arrive at the destination before that. Not so for this bus! At 5:45 AM, just as I had fallen asleep for a 2nd time that night, the bus stopped and the driver started going up and down the aisles, poking people in their sides and screaming like a banshee. Even if I don't understand Chinese, I somehow figured out he wanted us off his bus, and NOW.
Off I get, grabbing all my stuff and sort of stumbling in the dark at the bus station. My next goal was to get to the train station so that I could drop off my big backpack in storage for the day, allowing me to walk around Kunming unencumbered until my train that night. I had my map of Kunming in my hands, knew where the train station was but it's all pointless if you don't know where you are at the moment. There are a few bus stations in the city, all of them identified on my map, but who knew which one I was at? And since my sleep-deprived brain wasn't up to trying to figure it all out, and since it was still pitch black outside and I'd read the bus and train stations in Kunming are generally not good areas at night, I decided to take a taxi. I quickly found a taxi driver, a woman, and pointed out the train station on my map. Luckily, it was also in Chinese, so she understood where I wanted to go, but she was still looking at me funny, as if to say: you want to go THERE? really? I was in no mood to figure out what was wrong with going to the train station, so I just kept pointing at it on my map and nodding yes yes yes. She finally relented and nodded yes, she'd take me there. No sooner had I closed the door and the meter been started that I looked out the window and saw that we had arrived at the train station. No, I did not fall asleep or pass out, we had not driven more than 100 meters from the bus station exit to the drop-off at the train station. Now I understood her reluctance to bring me there! I could have walked it in 2 minutes flat!
I wasn't upset at her, since she'd obviously tried to convey SOMETHING to me, I just couldn't understand what it was. So I quickly paid her my 10-yuan fare (about 1.25$) and got off the taxi. By this time, it is maybe 5:48AM, so I have roughly 14 hours or so to kill... Yay. I'll spare you the tedious details of how I killed 14 hours in a city I'd already visited and didn't really have any enthusiasm for seeing again, but let's just say it involved a lot of walking and many hours in one of the MEGA internet cafes they have in China.
The overnight train from Kunming to Chengdu was good as well, maybe not as comfortable as the sleeper bus, but still OK. I had the top bunk again (but of course), but I have to say this time it did end up being a bit hard to get down from, since there are 3 superimposed beds and it is quite high. Getting up there wasn't a problem, but I almost had vertigo trying to get down. No problems sleeping though, but I think that had more to do with the fact I'd just spent a sleepless night.
It's a weird experience being the only westerner in a whole bus or a train carriage. You get a lot of attention, as people are very curious as to what the hell you are doing there amongst them. I felt a bit like a star in the train, with one group of elderly Chinese men trying to 'talk' to me (1 of them spoke some English), and their wives trying to feed me constantly. We managed to talk a little bit after I took out my Mandarin phrasebook, and Mr. Wu tried teaching me to count to 10 in Chinese, but I'm hopeless. I can't for the life of me get the tones right, as was proved when I tried telling them I was going to Xi'an next. Xi'an, to my western ears, is pronounced Shi-Ann. I said it 5 times, all with a blank look, but then found it in my phrasebook. Mr. Wu took out his glasses, read what I was pointing at and said: "Ah yes! Shi-Ann! Right!". It all sounded the same to me, but obviously it mustn't have been. I am in no danger of changing careers to become an interpreter, that's for sure.
I stayed at an amazing hostel in Chengdu, so I took advantage of it and spent the first 3 days doing nothing much at all. On my first day, I met an American girl and we had ourselves a 'western' day: a mocha-choca-whacka-whatsit at Starbucks, tacos and burritos at a Tex-Mex restaurant (good food, even if her taco was identical to my burrito...) and finally 2 pints each of Guinness at the local Irish pub! Each pint cost almost 10 dollars, a third of my daily budget for China, but what the hell! It was excellent and worth every penny!
The next day my western-themed break continued, as I had dinner at KFC and went to a movie. I saw 'Forbidden Kingdom', the movie with Jet Li and Jackie Chan. In it's original form, this movie is in English with some subtitles on the rare occasions they speak Chinese. Here in China, it was dubbed in Chinese and had Chinese subtitles as well. I had to go to a 'special' viewing to get to see it with English subtitles!
The last day of my break was spent reading not 1 but 2 books borrowed from the hostel's library. Excellent.
Having just spent 3 days doing nothing, I then crammed in all the Chengdu sites during the following 2 days. I went to see the pandas at the breeding center near by, and really enjoyed that. They 'look' cute and cuddly, but they are still big enough to remind you they are from the bear family. And even if I'd have loved to have a picture of me hugging a panda, I'm just too cheap for that. Can you imagine that it cost 1200 yuan, ie about 170 USD to hug a Giant panda?Isn't that crazy? Next up was a night at the Sichuan opera, which isn't anything like I'd have imagined an opera to be. A bit of singing, a bit of dancing, some comedy, acrobatics and the piece the resistance: 'changing faces'. The performers have masks on their faces that can change in a blink of an eye. My analytical mind didn't really enjoy that part of the show cause I spent all my time trying to figure out how they do it. I didn't come close to figuring it out, so I still ended up impressed.
The final 'must-do' for the Chengdu area was to visit the Giant Buddha in Leshan. Now after more than 6 months, I've seen my fair share of Buddhas, so my enthusiasm would have been so-so had I gone on my own, but luckily I had met 2 other American girls (there everywhere these days! :-) ) and went with them. We had a fun day figuring out the local transportation, walking countless steps, wandering around without ever getting lost once, and making our way back safe and sound. Oh, and the Buddha was nice too. ;-)
The traveling went well, with just a few minor hiccups, as can be expected. My trip from Lijiang to Kunming was an overnighter, by sleeper bus. Now the sleeper bus was a new one for me, having thus far avoided taking one since I don't like traveling at night. I was a bit, I don't know, skeptical I guess is the word, that it would be comfortable or a good way to travel, but it really was pretty OK. The sleeper bus consist of many rows of bunk beds, both lower and upper ones. The beds are very narrow, short and have somewhat of a slope to them, the head area being higher than the feet area. I of course had a top bunk (is there really any other one available for a plus-size non Asian person???), but was very (very very) thankful that I had a 'single' bunk instead of the 'triple' or even 'quadruple' ones at the back of the bus. They still are individual spots for each person, but in some cases there are no separations between the beds, so you are in fact just basically lying 3 (or 4) people in the same small area. Case in point: the 2 Chinese girls in the row next to me were not impressed when they ended up sharing a bed with a middle-aged man. They giggled for 5 minutes, then tried everything to avoid touching him for the rest of the night. Good luck with that, even for skinny Chinese girls...
The bus left at 7PM and by 7:05PM it seems everyone on the bus was already asleep, save for me. I haven't quite learned to condition myself to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, so by 2AM I was wondering if I ever was going to sleep that night. I did eventually fall asleep, but then the bus stops every so often to let you pee or buy food, like at 10PM, 12AM, 3AM, so you never sleep for very long. At least the girl I bought my ticket from said that they let you sleep on the bus until about 7AM, even if they arrive at the destination before that. Not so for this bus! At 5:45 AM, just as I had fallen asleep for a 2nd time that night, the bus stopped and the driver started going up and down the aisles, poking people in their sides and screaming like a banshee. Even if I don't understand Chinese, I somehow figured out he wanted us off his bus, and NOW.
Off I get, grabbing all my stuff and sort of stumbling in the dark at the bus station. My next goal was to get to the train station so that I could drop off my big backpack in storage for the day, allowing me to walk around Kunming unencumbered until my train that night. I had my map of Kunming in my hands, knew where the train station was but it's all pointless if you don't know where you are at the moment. There are a few bus stations in the city, all of them identified on my map, but who knew which one I was at? And since my sleep-deprived brain wasn't up to trying to figure it all out, and since it was still pitch black outside and I'd read the bus and train stations in Kunming are generally not good areas at night, I decided to take a taxi. I quickly found a taxi driver, a woman, and pointed out the train station on my map. Luckily, it was also in Chinese, so she understood where I wanted to go, but she was still looking at me funny, as if to say: you want to go THERE? really? I was in no mood to figure out what was wrong with going to the train station, so I just kept pointing at it on my map and nodding yes yes yes. She finally relented and nodded yes, she'd take me there. No sooner had I closed the door and the meter been started that I looked out the window and saw that we had arrived at the train station. No, I did not fall asleep or pass out, we had not driven more than 100 meters from the bus station exit to the drop-off at the train station. Now I understood her reluctance to bring me there! I could have walked it in 2 minutes flat!
I wasn't upset at her, since she'd obviously tried to convey SOMETHING to me, I just couldn't understand what it was. So I quickly paid her my 10-yuan fare (about 1.25$) and got off the taxi. By this time, it is maybe 5:48AM, so I have roughly 14 hours or so to kill... Yay. I'll spare you the tedious details of how I killed 14 hours in a city I'd already visited and didn't really have any enthusiasm for seeing again, but let's just say it involved a lot of walking and many hours in one of the MEGA internet cafes they have in China.
The overnight train from Kunming to Chengdu was good as well, maybe not as comfortable as the sleeper bus, but still OK. I had the top bunk again (but of course), but I have to say this time it did end up being a bit hard to get down from, since there are 3 superimposed beds and it is quite high. Getting up there wasn't a problem, but I almost had vertigo trying to get down. No problems sleeping though, but I think that had more to do with the fact I'd just spent a sleepless night.
It's a weird experience being the only westerner in a whole bus or a train carriage. You get a lot of attention, as people are very curious as to what the hell you are doing there amongst them. I felt a bit like a star in the train, with one group of elderly Chinese men trying to 'talk' to me (1 of them spoke some English), and their wives trying to feed me constantly. We managed to talk a little bit after I took out my Mandarin phrasebook, and Mr. Wu tried teaching me to count to 10 in Chinese, but I'm hopeless. I can't for the life of me get the tones right, as was proved when I tried telling them I was going to Xi'an next. Xi'an, to my western ears, is pronounced Shi-Ann. I said it 5 times, all with a blank look, but then found it in my phrasebook. Mr. Wu took out his glasses, read what I was pointing at and said: "Ah yes! Shi-Ann! Right!". It all sounded the same to me, but obviously it mustn't have been. I am in no danger of changing careers to become an interpreter, that's for sure.
I stayed at an amazing hostel in Chengdu, so I took advantage of it and spent the first 3 days doing nothing much at all. On my first day, I met an American girl and we had ourselves a 'western' day: a mocha-choca-whacka-whatsit at Starbucks, tacos and burritos at a Tex-Mex restaurant (good food, even if her taco was identical to my burrito...) and finally 2 pints each of Guinness at the local Irish pub! Each pint cost almost 10 dollars, a third of my daily budget for China, but what the hell! It was excellent and worth every penny!
The next day my western-themed break continued, as I had dinner at KFC and went to a movie. I saw 'Forbidden Kingdom', the movie with Jet Li and Jackie Chan. In it's original form, this movie is in English with some subtitles on the rare occasions they speak Chinese. Here in China, it was dubbed in Chinese and had Chinese subtitles as well. I had to go to a 'special' viewing to get to see it with English subtitles!
The last day of my break was spent reading not 1 but 2 books borrowed from the hostel's library. Excellent.
Having just spent 3 days doing nothing, I then crammed in all the Chengdu sites during the following 2 days. I went to see the pandas at the breeding center near by, and really enjoyed that. They 'look' cute and cuddly, but they are still big enough to remind you they are from the bear family. And even if I'd have loved to have a picture of me hugging a panda, I'm just too cheap for that. Can you imagine that it cost 1200 yuan, ie about 170 USD to hug a Giant panda?Isn't that crazy? Next up was a night at the Sichuan opera, which isn't anything like I'd have imagined an opera to be. A bit of singing, a bit of dancing, some comedy, acrobatics and the piece the resistance: 'changing faces'. The performers have masks on their faces that can change in a blink of an eye. My analytical mind didn't really enjoy that part of the show cause I spent all my time trying to figure out how they do it. I didn't come close to figuring it out, so I still ended up impressed.
The final 'must-do' for the Chengdu area was to visit the Giant Buddha in Leshan. Now after more than 6 months, I've seen my fair share of Buddhas, so my enthusiasm would have been so-so had I gone on my own, but luckily I had met 2 other American girls (there everywhere these days! :-) ) and went with them. We had a fun day figuring out the local transportation, walking countless steps, wandering around without ever getting lost once, and making our way back safe and sound. Oh, and the Buddha was nice too. ;-)
Monday, April 28, 2008
I wish I were home, if only for this day!
As some of you know, at this time of the year I'm usually in full 'fund-raising' mode for the Canadian Cancer Society. Every year following my sister Julie's diagnosis of leukemia, my family and I have participated in the Relay for Life event that takes place in June.
This year, I will be far away from Chambly and thus will not be able to participate in the Relay. I am still a 'virtual' member of the 'Inseparables' team however, and am taking this opportunity to let you know about the event, and how you can pledge our team if you so wish.
Below are links to my sister Johanne's personal pledge page, as well as a link to the team's page. Take a look and see if you want to pledge anything.
Johanne's personal page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?p=1280581&pg=personal&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=7AwKgcf8lyQXa2b_5pgBig..&s_tafId=13921
Les Inseparable's page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?team_id=11520&pg=team&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=3FPu5DBsZxDVUlbA2hVZZQ..&s_tafId=13921
Thanks for your support!
This year, I will be far away from Chambly and thus will not be able to participate in the Relay. I am still a 'virtual' member of the 'Inseparables' team however, and am taking this opportunity to let you know about the event, and how you can pledge our team if you so wish.
Below are links to my sister Johanne's personal pledge page, as well as a link to the team's page. Take a look and see if you want to pledge anything.
Johanne's personal page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?p=1280581&pg=personal&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=7AwKgcf8lyQXa2b_5pgBig..&s_tafId=13921
Les Inseparable's page:
http://convio.cancer.ca/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFL_QC_Chambly_?team_id=11520&pg=team&fr_id=2397&fl=en_CA&et=3FPu5DBsZxDVUlbA2hVZZQ..&s_tafId=13921
Thanks for your support!
Shangrila-di-da
Here I am on a rainy Sunday afternoon, sitting on my bed in my very noisy guesthouse, writing notes for my blog. It's not something I do often, spend an afternoon in my room, but right now, it's feeling right. I've been mostly lucky with the weather these past months, so much so that I've lost the habit gained in New Zealand of walking around in the rain. Besides, it's a good thing to try and keep up with the blog, n'est-ce pas?
The past week in China has been great. More than great actually. The places I've seen and people I've met made me thankful for my decision to come to China, but it's been more than that that has made this week excellent.
If you've read my last entry, you'll know that I somehow dreaded making the change from South East Asia to China. Leaving the relative comfort of somewhere you've come to know and heading into the unknown. But once that step was taken, it really helped me to realise how far I've come in the past 6 months. In terms of traveling savy, I'm very different from the girl who stepped off the plane in Auckland with a too heavy backpack and no idea how I was going to travel around the world. And in terms of personal growth, the changes are huge. Now, I haven't gone all 'hippy', started growing dreads (although you might think it if you saw me today, but more on that later) and go around talking about world peace all the time, but you can't help but be changed by seeing more of the world, how people live, how we are all 'same same but different'. And add the fact that, while I've met tons of people on the road, I do spend most of my time on my own, and spend most of that time thinking about different things than I do when I'm at home working, you've got the perfect recipe for change. When I think back to this time last year, when I first decided to take this trip, and the anxiety-filled months that followed, I'm just amazed at the change. But enough introspection for now...
The past week was spent exploring more of the Yunnan province, in south-west China. Dali was absolutely crazy, a tourist town filled to capacity with Chinese tourists. Think le Vieux-Montreal on the busiest summer day * 1000. That's how crazy it was. It so happens I was there during their Spring festival, so I guess that explained it. After a few hours walking around the walled city, with it's cobblestone streets and hundreds of souvenir shops, I decided to get the hell out of town and head for the mountain. There is a mountain just outside the town itself, that is quite easy to walk to, and you can get a chairlift up to the top. To give you an idea of the crowds, the 3 km walk from my guesthouse to the chairlift took my more than 1.5 hours, simply because I could walk no faster than the mass of Chinese surrounding me. And for those who think/know that I usually walk quite slowly, well, you ain't seen nothing till you've come to China. There is one speed and that is SLOW!
Once I actually made it to the chairlift, I then spent the best afternoon I'd had in a while, just walking on the mountain, appreciating the sunny day. The crowds were non-existent, with only a handful of Chinese actually venturing up the mountain. The paths were great and the views spectacular. I had an excellent day.
I have to mention that the guardian angels and lucky charms I was given as going-away presents before I left home seem to be working really well. I was walking down the street that morning on my way to the chairlift, in a less crowded part of town, when I just happened to pass by some friends I'd had drinks with the night before (the Dutch couple whom I'd crossed the border to China with). I stopped to say Hi, and just then the guy walked right passed me and started talking to a little girl. I thought it was odd, cause he was sort of talking loudly to her and was holding on to her hand, but I had no clue what was going on. It turns out the little girl was walking right next to me and had her hand inside my bag. I checked it and nothing was gone, but my camera was sort of sitting at the top of the bag, not where it usually is. If we hadn't crossed paths when we did, I would almost certainly be out of a camera right now! As for my pickpocket, she was a little Chinese girl of no more than 8 years old. She just about crapped her pants when she got caught, but I guess that come with the territory when your job is being a pickpocket...
The next day, I left my charming 1.25$/day dorm in Dali and headed to Lijiang, the next tourist destination on my path. There are buses that leave every hour from Dali to Lijiang, and it so happened that my new Dutch friends got on the same one as I. The ride from Dali to Lijiang is only about 3 hours and is usually quite uneventful, but not ours. As our bus was going up one of the numerous hills in the area, I saw that a truck was stopped about 100m in front of us (changing gears to go up the hill, I think). Our bus driver started to brake, but he must have been going too fast, cause it was obvious he was not going to stop in time. I braced myself, and sure enough, he rammed the truck pretty hard. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, only 1 guy with a bloody finger (he was sleeping, so he didn't see it coming) and the bus driver's legs smashed up enough to be bloody. The bus was out of commission, since the steering wheel was almost outside of the bus, so we waited a little while to get another bus. It didn't take too long, they were suprisingly organised in getting us new transportation. I wonder if this happens a lot...
As for myself, I was fine, just another little bruise and scratch to add to my growing collection on my knees.
Lijiang is another little cobblestone old town, much like Dali but with more charm in my opinion. It is called the Venice of China, because of the canals and bridges running through it. It's maze-like streets make it impossible to get your bearings, and if I hadn't been with the Dutch couple that first day, I would probably still be wandering the streets looking for my guesthouse right about now. It was a nice place to visit for a day or so, with still a lot of tourists (all Chinese), but much less than in Dali.
From Lijiang, I did a day trip to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. As usual, I was stressed about the hike down and back up the gorge, mostly because it is with a group and I feel pressured to go faster. I shouldn't have worried, as I was not the slowest of the group (Yay!). The scheduled 3-4 hour walk took more like 5 hours, cause the Mom half of an Australian mother/daughter duo hadn't realised that the hike was not an easy one. The way down was fine, but we had to stop very often on the way back up, which suited me just fine. Day trips are really hit-or-miss, you sometimes get a very ordinary group and/or guide. This day trip was one of the best I've had, with a great group of people. We were 6 westerners and 3 Chinese, and it was fun to see us bond without really being able to communicate clearly. I spent most of the hike back up the gorge in the middle of the pack along with a 20-something Chinese girl, who huffed and puffed just as badly as I. These Chinese girls may be thin, but it doesn't mean they are all fit! The group was treated for lunch by an American ex-pat living in China for the past 7 years, while I was treated to dinner by 2 French women who were impressed that I was traveling on my own for a whole year. Pretty good day!
My final destination in the Yunnan province is a place called Zhondian, also know as Shangri-La. I'd heard the name Shangri-La before, but besides sounding exotic, I had no clue what it was supposed to be. It turns out there's this guy who wrote a book in the 1930's describing a place called Shangri-La, a supposed Tibetan paradise in the foothills of the Himilayas. 'They' (whoever 'they' are) have debated it's actual location for years, and decided that Zhondian is it. I'll admit the name of the place intrigued me, but I decided to take the 6-hour bus to get there because it is as close as you can get to Tibet these days, and I was curious. It is a very calm, quiet place compared to Lijiang and Dali, so I liked it a lot. I visited the largest Tibetan monastery outside of Tibet and walked around in the FREEZING cold. At somewhere around 5C, it's the coldest I've felt in a while. I was the only guest in the youth hostel (no kidding!), so I had an 8-bed dorm room all to myself. And even though they advertise 24-hour hot water showers, the whole place is unheated, so it was unthinkable of taking a shower while I was there. I spent 3 days wearing the same clothes (jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt, short-sleeved t-shirt, scarf, hoodie), even at nightime, cause they were the warmest things I have. That may explain the new 'dreadlock' look I was sporting by the time I got back from Shangrila, not having washed my hair in 6 days. May be too much information to share with all of you, but whatever :-)
I am now back in Lijiang, spending another rainy afternoon in the only Internet cafe I've found in a while. I'm a bit disappointed that I have to backtrack all the way to Kunming to take the train to my next destination, but there didn't seem to be a simpler way of doing things. I now have an overnight bus to Kunming to look forward to (not!), followed by a day of aimlessly wandering the streets of Kunming before taking a 19-hour overnight train to Chengdu. Wish me luck!
PS. For some reason, the Internet in China allows me to publish posts to my blog, but not too actually see my blog. Keep this in mind if you see weird formatting or errors... Isn't censorship fun?
The past week in China has been great. More than great actually. The places I've seen and people I've met made me thankful for my decision to come to China, but it's been more than that that has made this week excellent.
If you've read my last entry, you'll know that I somehow dreaded making the change from South East Asia to China. Leaving the relative comfort of somewhere you've come to know and heading into the unknown. But once that step was taken, it really helped me to realise how far I've come in the past 6 months. In terms of traveling savy, I'm very different from the girl who stepped off the plane in Auckland with a too heavy backpack and no idea how I was going to travel around the world. And in terms of personal growth, the changes are huge. Now, I haven't gone all 'hippy', started growing dreads (although you might think it if you saw me today, but more on that later) and go around talking about world peace all the time, but you can't help but be changed by seeing more of the world, how people live, how we are all 'same same but different'. And add the fact that, while I've met tons of people on the road, I do spend most of my time on my own, and spend most of that time thinking about different things than I do when I'm at home working, you've got the perfect recipe for change. When I think back to this time last year, when I first decided to take this trip, and the anxiety-filled months that followed, I'm just amazed at the change. But enough introspection for now...
The past week was spent exploring more of the Yunnan province, in south-west China. Dali was absolutely crazy, a tourist town filled to capacity with Chinese tourists. Think le Vieux-Montreal on the busiest summer day * 1000. That's how crazy it was. It so happens I was there during their Spring festival, so I guess that explained it. After a few hours walking around the walled city, with it's cobblestone streets and hundreds of souvenir shops, I decided to get the hell out of town and head for the mountain. There is a mountain just outside the town itself, that is quite easy to walk to, and you can get a chairlift up to the top. To give you an idea of the crowds, the 3 km walk from my guesthouse to the chairlift took my more than 1.5 hours, simply because I could walk no faster than the mass of Chinese surrounding me. And for those who think/know that I usually walk quite slowly, well, you ain't seen nothing till you've come to China. There is one speed and that is SLOW!
Once I actually made it to the chairlift, I then spent the best afternoon I'd had in a while, just walking on the mountain, appreciating the sunny day. The crowds were non-existent, with only a handful of Chinese actually venturing up the mountain. The paths were great and the views spectacular. I had an excellent day.
I have to mention that the guardian angels and lucky charms I was given as going-away presents before I left home seem to be working really well. I was walking down the street that morning on my way to the chairlift, in a less crowded part of town, when I just happened to pass by some friends I'd had drinks with the night before (the Dutch couple whom I'd crossed the border to China with). I stopped to say Hi, and just then the guy walked right passed me and started talking to a little girl. I thought it was odd, cause he was sort of talking loudly to her and was holding on to her hand, but I had no clue what was going on. It turns out the little girl was walking right next to me and had her hand inside my bag. I checked it and nothing was gone, but my camera was sort of sitting at the top of the bag, not where it usually is. If we hadn't crossed paths when we did, I would almost certainly be out of a camera right now! As for my pickpocket, she was a little Chinese girl of no more than 8 years old. She just about crapped her pants when she got caught, but I guess that come with the territory when your job is being a pickpocket...
The next day, I left my charming 1.25$/day dorm in Dali and headed to Lijiang, the next tourist destination on my path. There are buses that leave every hour from Dali to Lijiang, and it so happened that my new Dutch friends got on the same one as I. The ride from Dali to Lijiang is only about 3 hours and is usually quite uneventful, but not ours. As our bus was going up one of the numerous hills in the area, I saw that a truck was stopped about 100m in front of us (changing gears to go up the hill, I think). Our bus driver started to brake, but he must have been going too fast, cause it was obvious he was not going to stop in time. I braced myself, and sure enough, he rammed the truck pretty hard. Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, only 1 guy with a bloody finger (he was sleeping, so he didn't see it coming) and the bus driver's legs smashed up enough to be bloody. The bus was out of commission, since the steering wheel was almost outside of the bus, so we waited a little while to get another bus. It didn't take too long, they were suprisingly organised in getting us new transportation. I wonder if this happens a lot...
As for myself, I was fine, just another little bruise and scratch to add to my growing collection on my knees.
Lijiang is another little cobblestone old town, much like Dali but with more charm in my opinion. It is called the Venice of China, because of the canals and bridges running through it. It's maze-like streets make it impossible to get your bearings, and if I hadn't been with the Dutch couple that first day, I would probably still be wandering the streets looking for my guesthouse right about now. It was a nice place to visit for a day or so, with still a lot of tourists (all Chinese), but much less than in Dali.
From Lijiang, I did a day trip to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. As usual, I was stressed about the hike down and back up the gorge, mostly because it is with a group and I feel pressured to go faster. I shouldn't have worried, as I was not the slowest of the group (Yay!). The scheduled 3-4 hour walk took more like 5 hours, cause the Mom half of an Australian mother/daughter duo hadn't realised that the hike was not an easy one. The way down was fine, but we had to stop very often on the way back up, which suited me just fine. Day trips are really hit-or-miss, you sometimes get a very ordinary group and/or guide. This day trip was one of the best I've had, with a great group of people. We were 6 westerners and 3 Chinese, and it was fun to see us bond without really being able to communicate clearly. I spent most of the hike back up the gorge in the middle of the pack along with a 20-something Chinese girl, who huffed and puffed just as badly as I. These Chinese girls may be thin, but it doesn't mean they are all fit! The group was treated for lunch by an American ex-pat living in China for the past 7 years, while I was treated to dinner by 2 French women who were impressed that I was traveling on my own for a whole year. Pretty good day!
My final destination in the Yunnan province is a place called Zhondian, also know as Shangri-La. I'd heard the name Shangri-La before, but besides sounding exotic, I had no clue what it was supposed to be. It turns out there's this guy who wrote a book in the 1930's describing a place called Shangri-La, a supposed Tibetan paradise in the foothills of the Himilayas. 'They' (whoever 'they' are) have debated it's actual location for years, and decided that Zhondian is it. I'll admit the name of the place intrigued me, but I decided to take the 6-hour bus to get there because it is as close as you can get to Tibet these days, and I was curious. It is a very calm, quiet place compared to Lijiang and Dali, so I liked it a lot. I visited the largest Tibetan monastery outside of Tibet and walked around in the FREEZING cold. At somewhere around 5C, it's the coldest I've felt in a while. I was the only guest in the youth hostel (no kidding!), so I had an 8-bed dorm room all to myself. And even though they advertise 24-hour hot water showers, the whole place is unheated, so it was unthinkable of taking a shower while I was there. I spent 3 days wearing the same clothes (jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt, short-sleeved t-shirt, scarf, hoodie), even at nightime, cause they were the warmest things I have. That may explain the new 'dreadlock' look I was sporting by the time I got back from Shangrila, not having washed my hair in 6 days. May be too much information to share with all of you, but whatever :-)
I am now back in Lijiang, spending another rainy afternoon in the only Internet cafe I've found in a while. I'm a bit disappointed that I have to backtrack all the way to Kunming to take the train to my next destination, but there didn't seem to be a simpler way of doing things. I now have an overnight bus to Kunming to look forward to (not!), followed by a day of aimlessly wandering the streets of Kunming before taking a 19-hour overnight train to Chengdu. Wish me luck!
PS. For some reason, the Internet in China allows me to publish posts to my blog, but not too actually see my blog. Keep this in mind if you see weird formatting or errors... Isn't censorship fun?
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