Traveling never quite goes as planned...thus we spent an unanticipated 9 hours sitting in the Bogota airport. We did eventually arrive in Lima and got a taxi to Barranco, a quieter part of the city along the coast. From here we´ve explored the trendier districts of Barranco and Miraflores as well as making the trip into grittier central Lima to see cathedrals, catacombs, and colonial buildings. Everyone is very friendly, even the restaurant touts aren´t too pushy, and our limited Spanish (or in Zach´s case a Spanish/Portugese mix) has been enough for us to communicate effectively. The taxi driver yesterday spoke slowly as he pointed out significant landmarks like the Palace of Justicia (although he claimed it´s really the Palace of Injusticia) and warned us not to travel down certain streets because of delinquencia. It remains to be seen if we´ll find communication more challenging as we travel into the mountains.
The pace of life here is very agreeable. Days are lazy and the streets start to come alive around sunset. Vendors start to set up their wares in public parks and people emerge from offices and homes to inhabit the public space. Last night we sat down to dinner at 11pm and there were still people coming to eat an hour later. Dishes of choice include ceviche of all types, anticucho (skewered, grilled cow heart), rotisserie chicken, and Inka Kola (a bubblegum flavored soft drink).
Our plan today is a descent from the cliff to the beach and more ceviche for lunch before a 15-hour overnight bus ride to Arequipa. We´re riding VIP style and the bus is equipped with a GPS system linked to the police in case of emergency.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The newest installment
Tomorrow we fly from Bozeman to New York. We'll spend a night at Dan's parents house visiting with Peter, Sue, Cathy, Jake, Nick, Leslie (Mom) and the dogs. Then Dan, Zach and I will head off the airport Tuesday morning and fly to Lima. We'll be posting updates from our adventure on this blog.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Home Again, Home Again
We've been home a little over a month and adjusting back to life in the States. We also posted a slideshow at picasaweb.google.com/dancenter/. Let us know if you're interested in seeing more from any portion of our trip, we have lots more photos.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
The Last Word
This is our final post as we board an airplane in three hours to eventually land in Bozeman in two days.
Our last nine days were spent on Zanzibar, split between the beach and historic Stonetown. There are many beaches on Zanzibar and everyone seems to have their own favorite. We opted for Bweju on the east coast. We found a small bungalow operation, only six rooms and the first night we were the only guests. Some other travelers we passed on the beach said it was one of the worst looking places in Bweju but when we mentioned our budget they backpedaled to say it was the best in that price range. As it turned out, we had more personalized attention than if we had stayed at one of the fancy resorts. The man who ran the place, Abdul, was always within shouting distance and we arranged meals with him that were served on our porch looking at the ocean. One afternoon I checked with him to see what was available for dinner. He pulled a live octopus out of a bucket. At least we knew it was fresh. Abdul also made great, gingery, spiced tea. We drank multiple cups every morning with our chapati and eggs.
The whole east coast has a coral reef just offshore. This makes for nice snorkeling and super-fine sand, practically the consistency of flour. On the flipside, there are huge tidal swings. At low tide it's impossible to swim; all the locals walk along the flats harvesting seaweed and digging for clams. It's a good beach for relaxing. No hustle and bustle, very few vendors trying to sell cheap sunglasses, Masaai jewelry, or Tingatinga paintings.
Between the east coast and Stonetown the road passes through Jozani forest, home to the red colobus monkey. We walked through the forest hoping to catch sight of this rare species. It turns out there are a few thousand of them here and we were soon in the middle of a troop. We watched them leap between tree branches and then run along the path almost between our legs. They feed on leaves and in the middle of the day go up in the trees to sleep and escape the heat. Some monkeys found forked branches to lay in, with their arms and legs just dangling.
And our final days were here in Stonetown. It's an old, windy city full of Swahili, Arab, and Indian culture. It's impossible not to get lost but then you always find yourself back someplace recognizable. The challenge is then placing that recognizable building into the larger context of the city. So we spent days wandering the streets which have completely different characters from morning to midday to afternoon to evening. Some are filled with "tourist junk", endless shops selling identical carvings, paintings, etc. Once you get away from that area there are groceries, jewelers, spice merchants, hole in the wall eateries (I wouldn't go so far as to call them cafes). We were also lucky enough to be here during the annual Swahili music festival, Sauti Za Busara (busaramusic.org). It was a big event for four days with musicians from all over East Africa and even from as far away as Mali and Belgium. At a more personal level, we spent three hours yesterday sitting down with some woodcarvers and learning the finer points of bao (we learned the beginner's version in Malawi). Bao is a relative of mancala, seeds are moved around bowls in a wooden board. If you're curious, stop by the house and we'll teach you.
Now we're trying to prepare for skiing and snow, which is difficult to imagine while sitting in tropical heat. Once we get unpacked and settled we'll post more photos online from our trip and maybe even bring a slideshow to a town near you. Until then...
Our last nine days were spent on Zanzibar, split between the beach and historic Stonetown. There are many beaches on Zanzibar and everyone seems to have their own favorite. We opted for Bweju on the east coast. We found a small bungalow operation, only six rooms and the first night we were the only guests. Some other travelers we passed on the beach said it was one of the worst looking places in Bweju but when we mentioned our budget they backpedaled to say it was the best in that price range. As it turned out, we had more personalized attention than if we had stayed at one of the fancy resorts. The man who ran the place, Abdul, was always within shouting distance and we arranged meals with him that were served on our porch looking at the ocean. One afternoon I checked with him to see what was available for dinner. He pulled a live octopus out of a bucket. At least we knew it was fresh. Abdul also made great, gingery, spiced tea. We drank multiple cups every morning with our chapati and eggs.
The whole east coast has a coral reef just offshore. This makes for nice snorkeling and super-fine sand, practically the consistency of flour. On the flipside, there are huge tidal swings. At low tide it's impossible to swim; all the locals walk along the flats harvesting seaweed and digging for clams. It's a good beach for relaxing. No hustle and bustle, very few vendors trying to sell cheap sunglasses, Masaai jewelry, or Tingatinga paintings.
Between the east coast and Stonetown the road passes through Jozani forest, home to the red colobus monkey. We walked through the forest hoping to catch sight of this rare species. It turns out there are a few thousand of them here and we were soon in the middle of a troop. We watched them leap between tree branches and then run along the path almost between our legs. They feed on leaves and in the middle of the day go up in the trees to sleep and escape the heat. Some monkeys found forked branches to lay in, with their arms and legs just dangling.
And our final days were here in Stonetown. It's an old, windy city full of Swahili, Arab, and Indian culture. It's impossible not to get lost but then you always find yourself back someplace recognizable. The challenge is then placing that recognizable building into the larger context of the city. So we spent days wandering the streets which have completely different characters from morning to midday to afternoon to evening. Some are filled with "tourist junk", endless shops selling identical carvings, paintings, etc. Once you get away from that area there are groceries, jewelers, spice merchants, hole in the wall eateries (I wouldn't go so far as to call them cafes). We were also lucky enough to be here during the annual Swahili music festival, Sauti Za Busara (busaramusic.org). It was a big event for four days with musicians from all over East Africa and even from as far away as Mali and Belgium. At a more personal level, we spent three hours yesterday sitting down with some woodcarvers and learning the finer points of bao (we learned the beginner's version in Malawi). Bao is a relative of mancala, seeds are moved around bowls in a wooden board. If you're curious, stop by the house and we'll teach you.
Now we're trying to prepare for skiing and snow, which is difficult to imagine while sitting in tropical heat. Once we get unpacked and settled we'll post more photos online from our trip and maybe even bring a slideshow to a town near you. Until then...
Friday, February 8, 2008
Down from the Mountain
1-31-08
The frost was glittering on the ground as we hiked up with head lamps on. There was some rock scrambling and we had to use our hands. We were the first to the summit, having passed a group of Danish/German/Austrians who had started an hour before us and having maintained a pace brisk enough to stave off the pro-mountaineer who started 15 minutes after us. (http://www.navarra8000.com). We left our ranger (see previous posting) sleeping at the camp and ascended with a porter as our guide. No elephants or buffalo to worry about up this high, above the vegetation and along the narrow ridge line created when the volcano blew its top. We had great views down toward the cone and out to Kilimanjaro. We'll post pictures when we get home.
We had a great four days up on Mt. Meru. Summited at 15,000 ft. (actually something like 14,996 ft, but that means our heads were over 15,000ft) yesterday morning at 6:15am just as the light was beginning to peak over the horizon and about 20 minutes before sunrise. (We started hiking in the dark at 3am). We saw a beautiful sunrise just to the right of Kilimanjaro -unobscured and marvelous.
The Urgent Call of Africa...
(This blog is not for the squeamish. Read at your own risk).
1-28-08
Hiked up to the first hut on Mt. Meru today with our armed ranger, Dixon. Beautiful. Saw a blue monkey, buffalo (the reason for our ranger), warthogs, bush buck, and notably, Kirk's Dik-Dik. After arriving at the hut, our "team" served popcorn, cookies and tea to us. Dinner was also catered to us and was far more extravagant that if we had been carrying and cooking our own food.
1-29-08
Woke up in the middle of the night to stomach cramps and sulphur burps. I lay awake as the gurgling and cramping moved through my system, eventually forcing the gas out my other end. During this time, I had the opportunity to consider what I had eaten that might have been carrying the offending parasite/amoeba/bacteria that was now creeping through my small and large intestines. I also had time to prepare the conversation I would have in the morning with Doud, the cook. I also decided that I would begin Cipro in the morning instead of waiting painful, explosive days to see if I got better (like I did in Mzuzu, Malawi the last time I had these symptoms).
In the end, I don't know that my conversation with Doud was as enlightening as I had hoped:
Me: Good morning, Doud. How are you today?
Doud: Very good. And how are you? [this is how all conversations here begin]
Me: Not so good. I am sick in the stomach. We are both sick in the stomach. We need your help.
Doud: (concerned) Oh, no. I'm so sorry.
Me: Yes. We need your help. We need you to wash everything in treated water and boil the tea water, yes?
Doud: Yes, yes. No problem. Don't worry.
Skip to breakfast. A bag of corn flakes and a mushy, soggy box of hot milk -- clearly boiled in the carton. The container says "Ultra Heat Treated Homogenised Milk." Times two.
Update: We are both doing fine and our bowels are functioning as well as can be expected for Americans who have been traveling in Africa this long.
1-28-08
Hiked up to the first hut on Mt. Meru today with our armed ranger, Dixon. Beautiful. Saw a blue monkey, buffalo (the reason for our ranger), warthogs, bush buck, and notably, Kirk's Dik-Dik. After arriving at the hut, our "team" served popcorn, cookies and tea to us. Dinner was also catered to us and was far more extravagant that if we had been carrying and cooking our own food.
1-29-08
Woke up in the middle of the night to stomach cramps and sulphur burps. I lay awake as the gurgling and cramping moved through my system, eventually forcing the gas out my other end. During this time, I had the opportunity to consider what I had eaten that might have been carrying the offending parasite/amoeba/bacteria that was now creeping through my small and large intestines. I also had time to prepare the conversation I would have in the morning with Doud, the cook. I also decided that I would begin Cipro in the morning instead of waiting painful, explosive days to see if I got better (like I did in Mzuzu, Malawi the last time I had these symptoms).
In the end, I don't know that my conversation with Doud was as enlightening as I had hoped:
Me: Good morning, Doud. How are you today?
Doud: Very good. And how are you? [this is how all conversations here begin]
Me: Not so good. I am sick in the stomach. We are both sick in the stomach. We need your help.
Doud: (concerned) Oh, no. I'm so sorry.
Me: Yes. We need your help. We need you to wash everything in treated water and boil the tea water, yes?
Doud: Yes, yes. No problem. Don't worry.
Skip to breakfast. A bag of corn flakes and a mushy, soggy box of hot milk -- clearly boiled in the carton. The container says "Ultra Heat Treated Homogenised Milk." Times two.
Update: We are both doing fine and our bowels are functioning as well as can be expected for Americans who have been traveling in Africa this long.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The Kindness of Strangers
We've been the fortunate recipients of several small and large acts of kindness.
In Tukuyu we took a number of tours with the community tea tour program and the manager, David, went above and beyond in assisting us. He accompanied us to the market to help purchase food for lunch and make sure we weren't getting ripped off. He walked us to the bus on our last day to make sure we got decent seats on the correct bus. He called around to help us with train reservations. He just generally helped us with any and every question we might have.
The Mbeya train stationmaster did indeed call the senior conductor and rearrange some compartments so that we could ride the train together. We showed up at his office four hours before the train's scheduled arrival (six hours before the actual arrival) per his instructions and he updated us as to the status of our tickets multiple times during the day. He insisted on us keeping our bags in his office so we didn't have to lug them around the station all day. Never mind that there were hundreds of other people at the station and his job description probably doesn't include the responsibility of caring for confused American tourists who can't plan ahead. The whole thing started because we had two phone numbers to the train station and we couldn't get through to the booking agent. I expected the stationmaster would just hand us off to someone else.
Yesterday afternoon we wandered around Dar Es Salaam and decided to sample some street fruit. My brother always gets excited about eating "street meat", the unidentifiable pieces of gristle being grilled on the sidewalk, but we opted for fruit. Men bicycled by with baskets full of mangos, pineapple that they will slice up on the spot, and coconuts. The top of the coconut is cut off and then handed to you to drink the water spilling out from inside. Then you hand back the empty coconut and the vendor scrapes all the soft flesh off the inside and hands it back for you to eat. In the midst of this process a Tanzanian businessman came up, drank two coconuts in rapid succession, made some friendly small talk, and paid for our coconut as well as his own. It was a simple, unwarranted, but much appreciated gesture.
Certainly we receive different treatment because we're white and obviously tourists. Which is somewhat unfortunate because we're not looking for special status but it's just part of the territory. None of these instances were forced, they were just people being friendly and helping us.
I offer this blog as a response to all the times we complain about annoying street touts, vendors trying to charge us double the going rate for a given item, and all the other various gripes when traveling.
In Tukuyu we took a number of tours with the community tea tour program and the manager, David, went above and beyond in assisting us. He accompanied us to the market to help purchase food for lunch and make sure we weren't getting ripped off. He walked us to the bus on our last day to make sure we got decent seats on the correct bus. He called around to help us with train reservations. He just generally helped us with any and every question we might have.
The Mbeya train stationmaster did indeed call the senior conductor and rearrange some compartments so that we could ride the train together. We showed up at his office four hours before the train's scheduled arrival (six hours before the actual arrival) per his instructions and he updated us as to the status of our tickets multiple times during the day. He insisted on us keeping our bags in his office so we didn't have to lug them around the station all day. Never mind that there were hundreds of other people at the station and his job description probably doesn't include the responsibility of caring for confused American tourists who can't plan ahead. The whole thing started because we had two phone numbers to the train station and we couldn't get through to the booking agent. I expected the stationmaster would just hand us off to someone else.
Yesterday afternoon we wandered around Dar Es Salaam and decided to sample some street fruit. My brother always gets excited about eating "street meat", the unidentifiable pieces of gristle being grilled on the sidewalk, but we opted for fruit. Men bicycled by with baskets full of mangos, pineapple that they will slice up on the spot, and coconuts. The top of the coconut is cut off and then handed to you to drink the water spilling out from inside. Then you hand back the empty coconut and the vendor scrapes all the soft flesh off the inside and hands it back for you to eat. In the midst of this process a Tanzanian businessman came up, drank two coconuts in rapid succession, made some friendly small talk, and paid for our coconut as well as his own. It was a simple, unwarranted, but much appreciated gesture.
Certainly we receive different treatment because we're white and obviously tourists. Which is somewhat unfortunate because we're not looking for special status but it's just part of the territory. None of these instances were forced, they were just people being friendly and helping us.
I offer this blog as a response to all the times we complain about annoying street touts, vendors trying to charge us double the going rate for a given item, and all the other various gripes when traveling.
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