Benin Part I: A Safari to Remember

13 Tuesday Feb 2018

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Beautiful bird in Penjari

The night in Fada N’Gourma luckily passed without incident, unless you count the fact that Mike and I both got up in the night and had to pee in our shower, since our bathroom was sans toilet. We had to get transport to Pama and then onto the border with Benin from there, so the first order was to find a ride to where minibuses were heading south. We had been seeing these tricycle trucks that were flatbed trucks being pulled by a motorcycle, and I couldn’t resist thumbing one down and asking if he would take us to the station. At first, the guy was confused since he wasn’t a taxi – but gladly accepted our offer of money and we were happily on our way. It was one of my favorite forms of transportation yet.

Happy on the Tricycle

Getting aboard the tricycle

Better yet, the guy driving knew exactly where to go, and I was lucky enough to be able to find a café that let me fill my Nalgene with coffee for the long journey ahead.

In a triangulation with 3 countries

The minibus was jam-packed and turned out to be one of the tightest squeezes on our foray into West African public transport to date. At one point we were 23 people, 6 goats, a motorcycle strapped to the roof, luggage, jerry cans and even then 2 more people squeezed in through the back windows to fill any available pocket of air, regardless of whether an area of their butt actually touched a seat or not. Mike and I were squished together to where we had to relieve certain areas of our body that had gone numb in unison, otherwise it was pointless.

I was pretty happy to get out of that transport once we were close to the border.

Guy getting in to the already crammed minibus through the window!

Our minibus

For the rest of the ride, we negotiated to go in a private taxi that wanted to take six people before it would leave. Imagine riding with 2 people in the front seat and 4 squeezed into the back? Yeah. That is standard practice in Burkina.

To be able to get going faster and have a little more room, we negotiated to pay the cost of 5 seats so that the one person waiting could still go and we wouldn’t have to wait any longer. All seemed to be going well until our driver decided it would be ok to try and make some extra cash along the way and leverage the fact that he already had six paid fares in the bag. First, he picked up someone who rode in the front for five miles and then mysteriously got out. Then, he tried to put a pregnant woman and her small daughter in the front seat sitting next to/on a man she’d never met. We violently protested and, of course, insisted that she get in the back with us. I complained to the driver who just kept saying it was only for a “short distance” – which was a blatant lie.

The woman, who at first was grateful, decided she could own her part of the back seat and gladly spread out herself and her child to where Mike and I were now squashed. I assured the driver that he had broken his agreement with us and he was not gonna be getting the full fare.

How to wind up a window in Burkina Faso

I was well and truly convinced of this when he had the audacity to then further pick up another THREE guys and put them in the rear of the vehicle, crushed and sitting on top of our luggage. I was livid at this point, and by the time Mike and I had made it through the border crossing and the extra hour to Tanguieta, the town we would stay at in order to visit Penjari National Park the next day, I was determined to only pay for 3 of 6 seats and geared up for a confrontation.

I gave the money to the driver, got out of the taxi and walked straight into our hotel for the night – and the taxi drove away without saying a word.

Huh!

Mike climbing onto the “death seat”

Exhausted, hot, sweaty and irritated – we still had to figure out transport and a guide for tomorrow, as well as figure out communication/SIM cards for our time in Benin. After a shower and beer on the rooftop terrace, we started feeling a little better. The hotel contacted a local guide, Charles, who came over to the hotel to explain what would be involved in a visit to Penjari the next day. Another guy who worked for the hotel in maintenance had also been kind enough to go into town and register SIM cards for Mike and I. We offered to pay him for his trouble and he actually turned it down. We were shocked – that was a first in Africa. Charles explained that this was not that uncommon and that the Beninoise people were very hospitable by nature and truly wanted visitors to feel welcome.

We were going to need to be ready to leave the next day at 4:30am in order to get to the park at a reasonable hour to spot wildlife. We would rent a private 4×4 vehicle and complete a full game drive till around 2pm when we would leave the park and head to a waterfall for a refreshing swim. We then negotiated into our private tour the option to visit a traditional Tata Somba house in the evening before returning to the hotel.

Baboon

Baby Elephant

Charles didn’t disappoint. Unfortunately, despite being promised repeatedly that there would be a packed/prepared breakfast ready for us to take on safari at 0500 – the restaurant was closed and no-one who was awake knew or cared enough to find out where our promised food order was. This meant that we would have to go till 2pm without refreshment as there was apparently no services inside the park until we had reached a distance where the two lodges were located. Luckily, Charles knew of a shack that sold coffee and eggs that was open at this ungodly hour.

Not only was it open, but they were literally blasting a full on action movie at that time. It was something to behold. Armed with coffee and baguettes with fried eggs – we could finally be on our way.

We tried to get some sleep but the road was just too bumpy. We arrived at the park around 6am and had to register. Then Charles put up the rooftop seat for us to climb into for our private game drive. Apart from the fact that the seat up there had no guard rail and a large bump in the road or an overly enthusiastic right turn would result in certain death for the unfortunate occupant of that side of the seat or both – it was super fun being up there.

Beautiful Penjari Lodge where we had lunch

Mike, ever the gentleman

I’d say the wildlife here was far less habituated to humans than we had seen in Mole and so, Penjari became a highlight for us. Aside from the expected crocodiles, hippos, baboons, oodles of antelope (JAFA, or AKA Just another fucking antelope) elephant and warthogs, we also saw red colobus monkey and some incredibly colorful birds that I can’t remember the names of, but will try to include photos of lhere.

We were altogether quite happy with our decision to visit, and yet, the highlight of our day was to come during our lunch stop at the Penjari Lodge. I had requested to dine at this accommodation because I knew they had a watering hole and I thought we might be able to view more wildlife while having lunch. As it turned out, it was a beautiful spot and rather swanky to boot – and despite the fact that they told us the kitchen didn’t serve lunch, per se, and we could only have spaghetti with tomato sauce – we were quite happy to enjoy cold beer and our simple meal while watching for more animals.

During our meal, the waiter came over to tell us that a lion had been spotted at the watering hole. We excitedly made our way over and looked through our own binoculars as well as with the hotel’s own standing powerful scope that afforded a very clear close up of the two lionesses who were walking together around the water. It was such a treat to see big cats – which are rarely spotted anywhere in West Africa anymore. After about a half hour, satisfied, we returned to finish our now-cold spaghetti.

A huge herd of Hartebeest started approaching the watering hole and also a family of warthogs (well, I like to think they were a family, but I really have no clue). The lions were nowhere to be seen, but the herd was beautiful to see nonetheless.

Just as I had grown tired of watching them and was about to go back yet again to our table, Mike shrieks and says “Oh My God! One of the lionesses just grabbed an antelope!” and in an instant I spun around to see the cloud of red dust from which emerged the gruesome sight of an unfortunate Hartebeest with its neck in the jaws of one lioness while the other was chewing away at its intestines and leg. This was my second time seeing a “kill” in the wild, and I couldn’t believe we were so lucky as to have such a clear view of what in reality was a good distance away, through the hotel’s scope. I started screaming in French in case any of the other guests of the hotel were in earshot and wanted to witness this spectacle.

Lionesses with their kill

Lions at the watering hole

Incredibly, people seemed totally nonplussed at this awesomeness and we continued to have the viewing platform to ourselves, and we were giddy as children with toys.

As gruesome as it was to watch, it was still just astonishing. These cats really play with their food. This animal was being eaten alive – it took a full ten minutes for it to die. One cat just held it in its mouth, allowing the other to eat. You could see the ring of blood around her mouth as she munched away.

In any case, we were grinning from ear to ear when we left and Mike was excited to see what shots he’d managed to capture on his zoom camera. Charles was happy for us – he didn’t get to see it at all as he was attending to our rented vehicle whose wheel had decided to come loose…luckily for us, right as we arrived at the lodge.

If the lion kill hadn’t been entertaining enough, Charles woke us both from afternoon naps on the way out to see a herd of elephants that were crossing the road right in front of the car, including a few juveniles. As we stood up out of the car to get a better look, the dominant male starting to charge our vehicle! We jumped back inside and Charles floored it out of there. So exciting!

By the time we reached the waterfall it was after 4 in the afternoon and blazing hot. It was a nice 30- minute walk to the lower falls and we cheerfully noted that we passed the campground where the Dragoman truck had stayed just three days prior. After a refreshing swim in and around the falls, and watching the daredevil climbing antics of a few locals – it was time to head back to Tanguieta. I did purchase some drop earrings made from bone that were being sold by a local artist – it’s so rare that I buy souvenirs, but this had been a special day for sure.

Mike and I at the first waterfall

Refreshing dip at the second waterfall

Despite our blinding exhaustion, Charles said that he had promised us a Tata Somba tour, and by God, despite the growing darkness, he was going to show us one. These are traditional homes in the north of Togo and Benin that are designed to house livestock in the ground floor of the home along with a kitchen, and the roof contains other rooms where the family sleep, eat, and where grains/foods are stored. We got a tour by a very enthusiastic Tata Somba occupant, and managed to take just a few flash-produced photos before I insisted Charles drive us back to our lodging at Hotel Atacora because we had now had a 15-hour day-trip and I was so tired I no longer knew my own name.

Me climbing to the roof of this traditional Tata Somba home

Unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked, and the next day we were going to be leaving the hotel at 0500 to catch the 0600 bus that would be taking us all. The. Way. South. To Abomey-Calavie – a stop just short of Cotonou, and a journey which promised to be about 11 hours long. We would be re-joining our friends on the Dragoman truck the following day on an overnight stay/tour to the stilt villages of Ganvie.

Ghana Part VI: Tamale, Mole and the whole Enchilada

06 Tuesday Feb 2018

Posted by Anita in Africa, Ghana

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Animals, Safari, Transport

Finding an empty Tro Tro at side of the road near our hotel…YEAH!!!

We grumpily decided we’d need to get an early start that Friday (19th of January) in order to make it back to Accra with plenty of time to collect my passport from Isaac and get to the airport in time for our 3pm flight with Africa World Airlines- an airline name that defies our US president – to Tamale, a northern city that serves as the gateway to Mole National Park – Ghana’s biggest and most famous national park (which, incidentally, was not included in any of the Dragoman itineraries)

We managed to flag an empty tro tro on the side of the road that was heading to Ho. I know, this joke never gets old. Incidentally, I had forgotten to mention that when I had arrived in Amedzofe a few days prior, on foot, a taxi had pulled up alongside me, rolled down the window and asked “Ho?”.

Hilarious.

Once we were in Ho, it was an easy transfer to another tro tro heading to Accra – and we were offered the front seat, so it was decidedly comfier. After grabbing some ice creams (which are basically plastic tubes of ice cream that you suck through the corner of the bag after you’ve ripped the corner off with your teeth) it was a relatively easy journey that even dropped us off at a bus stop for the airport.

Thankfully, Issac met us at the stop and walked with us to the airport. I haven’t walked to many airports before, so this was interesting.

After checking in, Mike and I caved in to eating some comfort food in the form of pizza and beer and before we knew it, it was time to board.

Boarding our Africa World Airlines Flight

The flight only lasted 50 minutes but was incredibly comfortable and well serviced. We were given a drink of juice and a meat pie (which we thankfully ate later in the taxi heading to the park) and we were able to see the outlines of dusty villages from the dry and barren savannah lands that define the north of the country.

On arrival, we met a Cameroonian who played basketball in Austin, which is incidentally where Mike last lived before venturing out on his travels. His name was Alex, and he has started a non-proft called Leading through Reading and was there doing some work. Apparently, his parents adopted him from Cameroon when he was already 14 years old and didn’t speak a word of English. At 6ft 8”, he was a gentle giant and I’ll always remember his warm smile and demeanor.

Mike chatting with Alex about Basketball, presumably showing him how to shoot hoops

We were bundled off into a taxi with a very miserable driver (not many of them in Ghana) who complained about my trying to negotiate a rate with him to drive us all the way to Mole saying the usual “Petrol is expensive. That is too cheap, Madam, and you understand this is the standard price…blah blah blah” bullshit that every driver spits out the moment you question his quoted fare. In any case, he was only taking us to the station where we were going to catch public transport to as close to the park as we could get.

As we headed to a tro tro, I stopped to ask another taxi driver what he would charge to drive us all the way privately (it was at least a two hour drive and would be longer/dark by public transport). I managed to negotiate a rate that was less than half what Mr Misery wanted and given the fact that he would also take us straight to the Mole Motel where we had a reservation, and the fact that we’d been traveling all day, we jumped at the chance.

Ecstasy over finding a top sheet

This driver was the total opposite of the first. His name was Abdullah and he had the most infectious, raucous laugh that came from nowhere – he laughed at almost every thing we said, even when it was just to comment on the speed bumps.

Oh, speed bumps. In Ghana. Are the worst.

Though the fact that we timed cute noises as our driver ran his ramshackle beat up car that hadn’t seen a new cabin filter in over two decades over the bumps at breakneck speed made him crack up even more heartily.

He made the two hour journey in about 90 minutes. I had a headache from the fumes that seemed to be coming directly into the car and keeping the windows open wasn’t stopping us from inhaling it. But we were super grateful to arrive at our hotel with enough time to grab a quick bite to eat (which ended up being a rather stale and dry piece of chicken that the waiter claimed was Guinea Fowl and looked at me with a death stare for daring to question the validity of his claim) before retiring to our massive three-bedded room with corresponding three blue buckets of water in the bathroom.

Our beds had topsheets and we enjoyed a good laugh taking some pictures of me ecstatic from having a topsheet.

The next morning we woke early to catch a 7am game drive. Safaris here are some of the cheapest in Africa, costs being about $11 per person for a two hour excursion (with five persons sharing the vehicle.) . We were lucky in that we were able to share our vehicle with a group of three young ladies from the Netherlands who were volunteering in Tamale as this kept our overall cost down.

Our Safari vehicles in Mole

Immediately upon trying to leave Mole park headquarters, we spotted an elephant roaming around the ranger residences and getting extremely close to the tourists who had opted for a walking safari. Although it was lovely to see an elephant so soon, we didn’t want to photograph an elephant that had a crowd of people in the foreground and houses in the background. It just didn’t feel right. That, and the fact that we had paid for a vehicle, which was thus far only following the walking tour.

After heading out of the area, we passed Mole village where many of the park workers live. We saw a lot of baboons and warthogs hanging around and they seemed totally habituated to humans.

The rest of the drive did not disappoint, thought it was bitterly cold in the morning air and I cursed at myself for not grabbing my windbreaker. The safari vehicles were kitted out with rows of benches for sitting on the roof, allowing for a great viewing platform from which to spot animals. We managed to see more elephants, a beautifully vibrant-colored bird called an Abyssinian Roller, lots of antelope, waterbuck, a mongoose and we ended the drive at a watering hole complete with crocodiles. We were allowed to descend from the vehicle and take photos and as we did, another herd of elephants arrived to drink at the water and afforded us some lovely photographic opportunities.

Mike and I by the watering hole with Elephants

By the time we returned, we were ravenous for breakfast and happily joined our new Dutch friends who were young enough to be our children and still shone brightly with the naivety and innocence of barely having reached adulthood.

The day grew quite hot and I was excited that the hotel had a pool. We were planning on getting changed into our bathers and taking a dip when someone called over that a group of elephants were now getting in to the watering hole and were bathing themselves.

In all, there were nine elephants that we were able to watch and observe for a good few hours as they frolicked about and swam in the lake below. I was even able to do this with a cold Smirnoff in my hands by the pool in my bikini.

I was liking Mole thus far.

After a much needed afternoon nap, I awoke to Mike returning from a very hot meander around the village where he had spotted warthogs trying to eat a carcass. I decided to shower and found myself sharing it with a little gecko who afterwards very much needed Mike’s help in getting out of the tub for fear he might get sucked down the drain.

Watching elephants while relaxing by the pool

We had a little happy smoke before heading over to the restaurant for dinner. I was very giggly. All was good.

We took a night safari that evening and though it was a little more pricey at $20 each – it had a great atmosphere to it with the night sky overhead, being all wrapped up in multiple layers, and using flashlights altogether to try and spot the animals.

Gecko who shared my shower

As well as the same animals we’d seen during the day, we were lucky enough to also spot some Janet cats, bush babies, and a giant owl from the drive.

Getting back we were beat and as we had to face another long travel day in the morning heading back to Tamale and onward to the border with Burkina Fasso, we went straight to bed.

Sierra Leone Part III – Tiwai Island: Christmas and Monkeys

10 Wednesday Jan 2018

Posted by Anita in Africa, Sierra Leone

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Animals, Camping, Christmas, Monkeys, Villages

Arriving by canoe on Tiwai Island

Tiwai Island is home to the densest population of primates in the world. Red-tailed/black and white colobus monkeys, chimpanzees, and spider monkeys abound. I was looking forward to a respite from the traffic heavy city to a totally natural environment that we had to get to by boat.

The drive, as is the case with any overland travel in Africa, was arduous. For those of you unfamiliar with overland truck travel – we travel in a 4×4 overland truck that can accommodate up to 24 passengers and crew. Everything we need to camp in the bush is on the truck: tents, stoves, utensils, gas, water jerry-cans, a fridge, plus we collect firewood as we go. The passengers are divided up into group for truck jobs such as sweeping out the truck at the end of a long drive day; and we have cook groups made up of 4 persons who rotate to prepare meals on the road for the rest of the group. Cook groups plan and organize shopping in local markets for gathering supplies for dinners, breakfasts and lunch; though sometimes we don’t get included meals which we would then purchase locally at restaurants – when we can find them. West Africa, especially Guinea and rural Sierra Leone – see very few tourists. Many villagers and especially children have never seen white people before. As such, we are often greeted with the kind of enthusiasm that is reserved for celebrities. Everyone waves at the truck – sometimes a local woman will start dancing with excitement and start shrieking with euphoria and spontaneous eruptions of applause are not uncommon. It leaves one feeling both honored to be visiting such a remote location as well as providing a sense of privilege due to the lack of melanin in our skin that is quite uncomfortable to say the least.

Villagers greeting the truck

About half of the nights on the trip are spent camping in tents, and the other half is spent in local guesthouses/hotels which have ranged in quality from very basic to downright worse than camping. In Guinea, for example, all of the hotels carry a double bed only – and since we all agreed to “share” – the women and the men are assigned a roommate and one is “forced” to make do sharing a bed or choosing the floor if that is too unsavory an experience. This requirement has set off a number of problems within the group and tensions have surfaced resulting from fractions between certain members of the group not liking other members enough to sit next to them for a 10 hour long, hot, dusty truck journey – let alone a shared bed at night without so much as a fan for comfort.

Having said that, vast majority just accept it or choose to upgrade to their own room.

Building a fire at a Bush Camp on Christmas Day

Roads in this part of the world are notoriously bad and the further back in the truck one sits, the more one feels the impact – quite literally – of the bumps and potholes encountered along the way. On bad road days, one really can’t nap or read a book – and so many hours are spent watching the countryside rolling by or engaging your fellow passengers in conversation. Sometimes, conflicting desires between silent contemplation and conversation come to a head and a compromise is reluctantly found. It can be quite a tiring and physically brutal way to travel.

I knew full well about these drawbacks – but the adventure and allure of traveling somewhere that other travelers rarely go was too appealing. And so…off we headed to Tiwai Island.

We arrived a little late on schedule with the sun having already set. Armed with just our daypacks for 2 nights, we boarded small power boats and set off from a jetty to the jungle island of Tiwai. It was one of those moments when traveling where you can’t believe you’re in the middle of nowhere with the stars bright above you and nothing but nature and zero electricity awaiting you. Crossing the mighty river you feel a bit like an ancient explorer and its very romantic.

On arrival, we set up tents under structured platforms and then enjoyed a very late dinner of bony fish and coconut flavored rice. We would be enjoying a full day of structured activities and so I headed to bed at a reasonable hour.

Campground on Tiwai Island

Despite the oppressive heat of the day, I was glad for my 55 degree Fahrenheit rated sleeping bag and woken up in the night with a sense of chill in the air, I gladly crawled into my bag. The inevitable “need to pee in the night” got me up around 3am and I walked to the bathrooms by headlamp listening to the sounds of the animals around me and my snoring fellow passengers.

The following morning was Christmas Eve and we gathered at 6:45am for a nature walk. After about an hour of not seeing anything but hearing the crying calls of hornbills and monkeys, we finally saw a group of red colobus monkey effortlessly jumping from branch to branch in the canopy overhead. We saw the white crested hornbill in its impressive display of winged flight and took some pictures of the giant trees that I’d only ever seen before in Cambodia, enmeshed with the temples at Angkor Wat.

After breakfast and some free time, four of us took a boat back to the mainland to enjoy a village tour which turned out to be fascinating. Our guide explained that the 300-person village was primarily Muslim, but that they drank alcohol and were planning to celebrate Christmas. We saw their school, vegetable gardens, how they grew rice and processed it, their beds with mattresses filled with grasses and dried leaves, the community water pump, as well as meeting and greeting with many adults and even greater masses of children who constantly harangued us for attention and photos – shrieking with excitement when we showed them the taken pictures on the camera screen.

Family with infant on Village Tour

Excited village children

While waiting for a canoe to take us back to the island – we had a good laugh when our guide excused himself to “make a call” for the boat to come. He walked to the edge of the river and literally made a loud patterned cry, cupping his hands around his mouth. We had all assumed he was going to call someone on his cellphone but we were mistaken!

Later that afternoon, during my favorite time of day – the “magic hour” – we went out on four person canoes to explore downriver. There wasn’t much to see in terms of wildlife, but the atmosphere and cool breeze from the boat was definitely worth the $10 it cost for the two hour trip.

Canoe ride on Tiwai

Definitely one of the strangest places I’ve spent Christmas Eve – we gathered around the fire after dinner and sang Christmas carols and told stories about our personal Christmas traditions. It was a fun evening – the highlight of which was listening to our 68-year old Spanish passenger Carme tell hilarious inebriated stories from her childhood when Spain was still under rule by Franco, lying to get a visa to enter the United States and refusing to serve a racist customer at her first job as a waitress in LA. She has quite the personality and is easily the most loved member of the group.

Our Canadian tour leader, Sinead, came and announced that the villagers had invited us to spend Christmas morning and lunch with them. It was an offer we could hardly refuse, despite concerns I had about any awkwardness that might result from two very different sets of people coming together to celebrate a common holiday which has widely differing expectations in terms of how it is recognized.

Children fascinated with my hair on Christmas Day

My fears turned out to be largely unsubstantiated and it was a delightful, if exhausting morning. We were literally besieged with snotty nosed children all clamoring over the women in our group…some of us got groped, had our hair pulled and ten children grasping at our fingers looking to hold our hand as we headed off to the area designated for the party.

I found myself rather attached to a little girl who didn’t offer a single word and seemed to be very picked on by the other kids. She seemed sad and in need of some affection so I sat with her for some time giving her some needed hugs. At least she smiled when I did this. Music was played and beer brought out – and those passengers who still felt rhythm in their feet got up and danced in the jungle with the villagers, united in the common celebration that Christmas still is – even if presents and holly, and mistletoe are absent.

Little girl on Village Tour

Quite exhausted but with filled hearts, we boarded the truck after finishing a delicious lunch of fried beignets and freshly cooked (and slaughtered in our honor) chicken. We had a long drive in the direction of Makeni to complete – and since we were delayed in our journey, the plan was to find a new, good spot to bush camp for the night.

These plans made sense until you took into account that most open countryside is dense forest and/or tall grassland – not ideal for pitching tents to accommodate 22. And we had our own Christmas dinner shopped for and to prepare for.

Jack taking pics of village kids

Late in the day, we pulled off the main highway at a number of promising looking locations that proved unsuitable upon further examination. Being told there were several villages with flat ground up ahead on a dirt road, we took a 20 minute detour only to find a village all out and dressed to the nines celebrating Christmas in the open air of their local soccer field. The entire crowd of at least a hundred came running up to the truck and started whooping and hollering in excitement at seeing us. It became quite apparent that if we asked to “borrow” their soccer field for the night, we would be besieged with people utterly adamant in their curiosity to not give us a moment of peace.

So we pressed on as the sun began to set.

Kids playing on Christmas Day – Mike photobombs too…

After another ten minutes or so we came across a different villages’ soccer field with only a few individuals roaming around. Their shocked faces turned to bemusement, suspicion and incredulity as our fearless leader asked if we might be able to pitch our tents in their field. Trying to explain tents to Sierra Leoneans was rather difficult and we were asked several times what our “purpose” there was? That we were just driving through West Africa on our way to Ghana did not seem at all plausible to these villagers, but they acquiesced and invited us to use their soccer field.

Little by little, as we poured out of the truck and began pitching our tents and preparing our evening meal, the villagers came out in growing numbers to witness the spectacle that was us. Rarely have I felt so self-conscious, but by the time we served up the pit-roasted chicken and grilled stuffing to each other but a crowd of at least 50 were simply standing in awe of us and I got the strongest sense of what it felt like to be a chimp at the zoo. The villagers didn’t grow bored and just kept watching us for what felt like hours as we moved on to dessert and whisky. Of course we wanted to share our meal with them – but had we done so – we might have set off a mob with people all grabbing for food. There wasn’t enough to feed both groups anyways, so we ate, as best we could under the ever so watchful eyes of our new neighbors.

Making Christmas Dinner with a crowd of onlookers

In setting up my tent that night I also got a little surprise of my own when I found two hapless lizards whom I had accidentally prematurely murdered when I rolled them up into my tent on Tiwai that morning. Luckily for me, one of the Peters on the group was kind enough to extract and dispose of the poor things for me while I grimaced in disgust from a distance.

Ewwwww…..

And so, Christmas was had and enjoyed by all in a most unforgettable and strange way. My second Christmas in Africa in three years.

Sierra Leone Part I – Freetown

06 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by Anita in Africa, Sierra Leone

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Animals, Cities, Townships

Slums of Freetown, Sierra Leone. Mass graves were dug here during the 2015 Ebola outbreak.

My flights went without incident and despite being very tired indeed – I landed in Freetown on a hot and humid Sunday night. Having sat next to a very friendly native Sierra Leonean, I felt confident that I would have some help navigating immigration and transport on arrival despite being exhausted. We exited the aircraft and that familiar blast of heat hit me full on and I breathed in the heady scents of Africa once more. The airport was as expected – long lines and packed to the gills with people shouting for their bags. The airport in Freetown is rather curious in that it was built on an island – a ferry or water taxi ride away from the mainland. Having gotten my bags onto the shuttle that would take me to the water taxi, I was already full of joy and contentment to see that the waiting area was a bar looking out across the palm-fringed ocean and I immediately ordered a beer to “hurry up and wait”.

TIA. This is Africa.

I started chatting with a Finnish Unicef worker who was visiting Sierra Leone to help set up a clinic in the rural north, and another American who was here visiting family. The latter later claimed to be the niece of the president of the country – and I still have absolutely no idea if she was crazy or if this was really true. She did, in fact, text me the next day on What’s App to meet up for dinner and drinks – but after showing up drunk and with her cousin who seemed very coked out – only stayed to chat for about ten minutes before excusing herself to tend to “family matters”. Very bizarre.

The water taxi was a hot 30-minute ride which included a viewing of “Britain’s got Talent”. On arrival at the terminal on the other side, I carefully followed the Dragoman directions to my guest house – the “Raza” and walked the 500 feet in the dark dragging my bags in what has now become the standard crazy, loud and insane oncoming traffic, sweating profusely.

Lumley Beach

I was so happy when I saw the sign for the hotel and having checked in, discovered a basic but acceptably clean room with air conditioning where I could finally unwind.

My jet lag was reasonably bad for the next few days. The next morning, I was awoken by the sound of the Dragoman tour truck pulling up and the passengers arriving from the trip I was initially supposed to be on from Senegal. I came out and greeted several of the sweaty, exhausted, dust-covered people and made introductions. Meeting the guide, I was told that they would be arranging a trip to the Chimpanzee Sanctuary that afternoon and to meet in reception at 3pm. I was happy to have a plan for my first full day in Sierra Leone – especially since the first few days in a foreign continent are always an adjustment.

Sierra Leone had a different plan in mind for me. I went for a walk after eating my very late breakfast to get accustomed to the surroundings and hopefully to find Lumley beach – the characteristic stretch of white sand that is lined with bars and restaurants in this vibrant capital city. I immediately “remembered” what Africa can and has since been like on this trip (I am writing this post from Guinea on Day 12 of the trip) – hot, dusty, noisy, with people everywhere greeting you, trying to sell things to you, traffic everywhere and people busily going about their days in close proximity to each other, carrying babies on their back and large buckets of grain and banana on their heads.

Crazy Freetown traffic

The beach had beautiful white sand and was lined with palm trees. The potential for tourism in Sierra Leone could immediately be felt, but unfortunately, it is still not fully realized because there is trash everywhere (that and many anti-tourism policies such as no “visa on arrival”). Cans, bottles, plastic bags, odd sandals, plastic and metallic discarded objects were strewn up and down the beach creating a safety as well as an aesthetic hazard. It is truly one of the more lamentable facts about West Africans thus far – over and over again you see people just dropping trash on the ground and large piles of trash are seen on streets and intersections and in streams and rivers everywhere. A total reversal of this behavior is necessary if the country is ever to rise up and develop its economy through tourism.

Then again, I mustn’t forget that it wasn’t that long ago that discarding trash was the status quo back in the States too. It take education for such a national shift of mindset.

I got back to Raza by 10 to 3 and discovered that the group had left in a taxi 5 minutes earlier. I felt a wave of disappointment and tried to communicate with the front desk to try and ascertain how much another taxi would cost me if I was to go on my own.

At that moment, another passenger called Kelly, from Australia, came out and asked if she might use the taxi that the front desk had called for me to haggle with over a price to drive me to the sanctuary. She informed me that she was planning on going to Tacugama the next day and that she was on her way to the Guinean Embassy to pick up her emergency one-day visa. I asked if I might join her and we hopped in and set off.

Free health clinic in Aberdeen

The traffic insanity that is cities in West Africa took on a new color from the vantage of a car. Nobody paid attention to traffic signs/signals and Kelly kept trying to help our driver understand where she wanted to go and that since she’d already been to the Guinean Embassy three times in the last twenty-four hours, attempted to direct him in English. The people of Freetown speak Krio – which is a form of pigeon English. “Yu Nor Dey Pay No Money” translates to “You don’t have to pay any money” – just so you get the idea.

Finally getting to the “embassy” which actually is a non-descript ran-down white shack/building with an office that is bare except for a bench for sitting/waiting, a fan, and a desk with a computer on it and official looking papers – we ended up chatting in French with one of the “guards” while waiting for Kelly’s passport to be ready. After about two hours in the heat, Kelly got her visa and we headed back to Aberdeen and Lumley beach in search of a cold beer to celebrate.

Me, Kelly and Charlie

We found a lovely air-conditioned bar called “Eddie’s” and ordered two local “Star” beers while listening to the Game of Thrones soundtrack being played alongside a screening of La La Land on a giant screen on the back wall. So strange! Outside, waiting to use the bathroom, I was greeted by a very friendly guy who introduced himself as Charlie. I immediately noticed that he spoke English with an American accent and found that he had worked for the DOD in Houston and Iraq for several five-month long contracts and as such, he had spent enough time around other American soldiers and contract workers for his English to sound like he came from the States. We chatted for a few minutes and since he was finishing up with work, I invited him to join Kelly and I for a drink.

Kelly, Charlie and I happily passed a solid hour in conversation and I was immediately transported back to the reasons why I love traveling solo so much – connecting with others is so easy, spontaneous, and organic. Charlie talked to us about what life is like in Freetown, about the civil war and what it was like to live there two years ago during the Ebola outbreak. He explained how scary it was, seeing the specially colored “vans” that would inevitably be transporting dead bodies to a safe burial location. He told us about the strange social impact not touching anyone or anything while in public had on the people. As always, hearing about such events from the perspective of a local was vastly more impactful than hearing about it through the media in the US.

Stray dogs in Freetown’s trash

We invited our new friend to dinner next door where the Dragoman group were congregated to have their “goodbye” dinner. The food in Sierra Leone was surprisingly good and flavorful, even spicy. I ordered grilled snapper with rice and salad. Fish and chicken with rice or chips is the basic options we have chosen between most nights here, and while the fish is often full of bones – it has been a big contrast to the often bland foods of East Africa.

After dinner, Kelly took a cab home with the group but since I was on US time – Charlie and I opted to head down the road in search of ice cream and real espresso coffee. It appeared to me that Freetown as a microcosm of Sierra Leonean society had the typical mix of a tiny minority of upper class social climbers with lots of disposable income and then the very poor who live in slums or very basic housing. The bars and cafes of Lumley beach definitely catered to the former group because I found myself in a neighborhood that could increasingly be mistaken for a beach town in Marseille.

Signs from the Ebola crisis of 2015 – this one on a trash can

I told Charlie that Kelly and I were planning to visit the Chimp sanctuary the next day and he proposed that he join us. I was happy to have made a local friend so quickly.

The next morning, we had our orientation meeting for the start of the official next leg of the Dragoman trip. Most unusually, the entire group of 20 passengers and 2 crew were traveling solo and were single, aged between 35 and 75, and were very evenly mixed between genders – 10 female and 12 male. It was immediately obvious that I wasn’t going to feel unusual or left out – this was a group of very well-traveled independent-minded “misfits” – and that has proven to be very true. I have been very grateful for the eclectic and interesting mix of characters and culture that the group consists of and it is in the starkest of contrasts to my first overland trip of 2015.

We spent the rest of the morning sharing taxis to visit the famous city center “Cottonwood Tree” and the National Museum. On the way we passed many many slum settlements simply jam packed with people and an equal presence of trash. Everywhere, children ran around with dirty snot-ridden faces in tattered clothes, barefoot and being dragged by a parent. People washed themselves and their clothes in filthy pools of water strewn with garbage. As always, it was a wake-up call to the privilege we each have to live as we do in the West.

Quote on Female Circumcision – which affects 80% of women in Sierra Leone

The museum was good if a bit out of date, but the exhibits addressing the history of slavery and juxtaposing it to the many modern forms of slavery was very worthwhile. There were also exhibits addressing the issue of Female Genital Mutilation in Sierra Leone – a very common practice that results in over 80% of women having no external genitalia whatsoever. While it is a normal practice in their culture, I still can’t help but feel revulsion for the disgusting patriarchal madness that condones such a hideous crime against the body of a woman. Moreover, the number of people in favor of continuing this violent crime against females is staggering and difficult for a foreigner to comprehend, let alone be tolerant of.

At 3pm, while four of us were haggling to arrange a taxi to go to the sanctuary – Charlie showed up in his Mercedes SUV and offered to drive us there and back himself! It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but we were ever so grateful and ended up having the most raucous and laughter-filled afternoon and evening together. A truly magical day that I will not soon forget.

On the way there, Charlie pointed out an area that suffered a horrendous landslide back in September and literally buried thousands of unsuspecting residents in their homes alive as an entire mountainside gave way after months of torrential rains.

Chimps at the Tacugama Sanctuary

The sanctuary itself helps to rehabilitate chimps who’ve been illegally taken as pets in the hopes that they can be re-released back into the wild. It is set in a thankfully cool setting in the highlands surrounding Freetown and we had a lovely time observing the chimps – especially the sub adults who linked arms with their best friends while walking around their large enclosure.

Dinner on Lumley Beach (I’m using my steripen in case you’re wondering what that light is!)

We experienced horrendous rush hour traffic on the return and sat at a near standstill for over two hours. Nauseous, hot and very hungry – we were super grateful to find a bbq stand directly on Lumley beach where we ordered chicken with fried rice and cold beer at the best table in the place – a wooden table and chairs literally only ten feet away from where the water was lapping away at the sand.

A thoroughly enjoyable day was had by all.

The following day we followed our bliss for three nights on the beaches of the Sierra Leonean Peninsula.

Into the Ugandan Highlands – Gorillas, Pygmies, and a Tragedy

13 Monday Jul 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, Uganda

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Animals, Culture, Indigenous People, Opinion Pieces, Trekking, Villages

The indomitable Silverback

After my emotional day in Kampala we had a long drive to the town of Kabale located near the Rwandan border and the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park where we were going to trek deep into the jungle in search of the mountain gorillas.

I have been slightly obsessed with gorillas ever since childhood when I first saw “Gorillas in the Mist” with one of my hero actresses Sigourney Weaver, as the passionate conservationist Dian Fossey. She spent the majority of her life in this part of the world documenting the Gorilla’s behavior and was instrumental in creating the national parks and the facilities therein that would give them at least some chance of survival.

One of the unfortunate ramifications of the creation of these national parks was that the Batwa Pygmies, an ethnic tribe who had resided in these forests for hundreds of years, were forced to leave their homes and their lifestyles with nowhere else to go. I need to do some further reading on this topic as I’m unsure to what degree these people could be blamed for the poaching and subsequent diminishing numbers of gorillas in these mountains. Having said that, fewer than 800 are now recorded to be living in these thankfully protected areas (the gorillas that is, not the Pygmies!)

Heading into Bwindi

That isn’t to say that visiting the gorillas is absent of any ethical considerations. It’s more of a catch-22 situation. We visited the Ugandan park in May when the permits are discounted by 40%, but typically it costs about $700 USD for a day permit to visit these creatures. Without this revenue, the parks wouldn’t be able to hire the kind of manpower that it takes to protect these magnificent animals from poachers. On the other hand, selling these permits means that each of the family groups’ of gorillas gets visited by eight people + guides per day – which has lead to the gorillas being completely habituated. On top of that, I do believe that my visit to the group of gorillas we saw absolutely did cause them stress. Not that it was just our presence – but the guides were extremely aggressive in pursuing the members of the group, often hacking at vegetation with machetes to allow our group better viewing and photo opportunities.
So, as I recall this amazing experience, it is with mixed feelings of both awe at having seen them in the wild, together with regret that they can’t be kept safe from both poachers and from being hassled by daily visits.

Still coughing from my cold, I was a little worried about the arduous day of hiking in the heat and humidity that was before me. I kept my inhaler with me and managed to keep the cough under control most of the day. We were picked up around 5am from our campsite in Kabale and driven into Bwindi where we had an initial orientation and were then split up into two groups of 8 (together with some non-Oasis travelers.) We headed out up a rather steep trail and I felt myself echoing the steps of Dian Fossey as we began to penetrate the impentetrable forests of Bwindi.

Bwindi Impenetrable National Park

The views were extraordinary with thick blankets of fog covering the lush green slopes. The sweat was already pouring off of us by 10am and the temperature beginning to soar. It was a little over 3 hours into the trek when we were informed that a group of approximately 11 adults and a few babies had been spotted.

Me and a Gorilla in the background

Our group in the early morning mist

The next hour was filled with incredible moments. From the very first glimpse of the silverback sitting and chewing grass not more than 15 feet from where I stood, to then being charged, twice, when he sensed our group had overstepped his privacy threshold. At one point, a mother gorilla with a few months’ old baby clinging to her back rushed out of the bush and practically ran into the middle of where we were standing. I couldn’t believe how close these creatures were to us.

The highlight for me, however, was observing the group as they ascended and later descended from the high treetops. I managed to capture a lot of the action on a video sequence that I will happily share with you here.

Baby Gorilla

On our return to the jeep, the heavens opened and we experienced a downpour which was accompanied by thunder and lightning. It really added to the memorable nature of the day for me, such an atmospheric element to our descent. When we got back to Kabale, the other group hadn’t returned yet, so we set about making dinner as they were obviously going to be very hungry and tired by the time they got back. A little before they arrived, however, our drive, Pete, informed us that one of our group members, Greg, had tragically died of a suspected heart attack only an hour into their trek.

That evening and the next few days were very hard for us, and there was a lot of emotion shared – the group grew closer together for support. It was such an unexpected and shocking turn of events. Later in the trip, I was very moved when we learned that his family had requested that half of Greg’s ashes be taken to Cape Town and released in the ocean so that he could “finish the journey he had started”.

I will never forget him.

Lake Bunyoni

The day after our emotional sojourn to see the Gorillas, we traveled as a group to Lake Bunyoni to spend a day with a Pygmy village. This village was funded and created by a group of Ugandans who wanted to help a select group of displaced individuals who’d lost their home and their land when they were ousted from the national park system in 1994.

It was a rather strange day for me. While I really enjoyed the scenery of the lake and the surrounding countryside, and watching the amazing performances put on by the people and their children, it all felt a little bit like a “Human Safari” to me. I kept asking the group leader about what the community’s long-term plans were? Were they going to be able to secure land that they could farm for their sustenance? How were they going to survive?

Well, it turns out that they were entirely dependent upon charity and the proceeds from tours such as the one we were on. That made me slightly uncomfortable. Our leader explained that the schools that they had built would serve to provide the offspring of the people an education, so that hopefully, the kids would be able to graduate and go off and get work and then help support their families in turn. I found that to be a little optimistic, but I didn’t want to judge at the same time.

Pygmy father and his baby

Th entire time I was there, I couldn’t help but think one thought – how BAD do things have to really get before people stop reproducing so much?!!! I know, I know: in Africa, one’s “success” in life is very often measured by the size of one’s family…and yet – I couldn’t help but wonder – WHY? when you have little food, and your family is hungry, and the babies you already have are malnourised, AND your women are so malnourished that they can’t produce enough milk for those babies, AND you have no means of supporting yourselves….WHY not practice birth control? At least…the withdrawal method? (if there are no condoms available) These were the reactions that I couldn’t help having.

I wanted to provide condoms for these people, not food.

Does that make me a bad, judgmental person? What do you think?

I hope you enjoy the video I took of the children dancing for us. There is one fact that cannot be denied: these people have the most incredible innate rhythm and sense of music. It warms my heart!

The Gorilla Loop Part I – Lake Naivasha

21 Sunday Jun 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, Kenya

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Tags

Animals, Camping, Tours

Me on Lake Naivasha

I was sad to leave South Africa. This country had really gotten under my skin and I wished I had a little more time there. The two days of high level activity had left me very drained and also very sick, so I literally took the Baz Bus to Johannesburg and had them drop me off directly at an airport hostel. I ate dinner at a posher hotel across the street (I ordered Malva pudding and hot custard for dinner…come on, I was sick, yar?) and then promptly went to sleep coughing and sneezing up a storm.

The following day saw me take a flight from Johannesburg back to Nairobi to begin the Gorilla Loop overland truck tour with the same company I did my 56 day Coast to Coast odyssey with, Oasis Overland. I even had the same tour leader and driver as before. The day was arduous as my virus was now full blown and it ended up taking longer to drive to Karen Camp from Nairobi Kenyatta’s airport than the four hours flying time it took from Johannesburg. Apparently, torrential rains had caused some major flooding and road damage, so Smiley explained that the traffic had just been utterly horrendous. It was good to see Smiley again – he was the first person I met when I arrived here nearly 3 months ago and it was good to catch up. Since we were literally parked for much of the only 15 mile or so journey, we played good old rock ballads on the radio and I attempted to croak along in between coughing fits.

New crew on the bus including the wonderful Greg

I briefly met my tour group before heading straight for the shower and after to find Pete and Tabby to get back in the truck and collect the things I’d had them drive back up to Nairobi with. I then re-organized my entire backpack for just what I’d need on this trip through Kenya, Uganda, and Rwanda and put the rest into storage at the camp.

Our first stop on this journey was Lake Naivasha and on arrival at our campsite we were welcomed by a rare sighting of the mighty black and white Colubus monkey playing in the grass looking out over the lake and its mighty hippos that were honking behind the security fence.

That afternoon’s activities seemed mellow enough that I decided to haul my sorry sick ass along to them. They consisted of an hour’s boat ride on the lake where we saw lots of lovely colorful birds and some crazy men who were fishing not twenty meters from where five or six hippos were cavorting in the shallow water. It was a lovely sunny afternoon and I was looking forward to the afternoon tea I was promised at the former home of the late Joy Adamson, author of the “Born Free” series of books about her life in Africa raising wild cats domestically that she then later tried to let back into the wild.

Well, it was a bit disappointing on both counts. First of all, the tea was not a high tea, it consisted of “get your own tea” and ginger cake and cookies. Which is all fine, I wasn’t that hungry as I was snivelling everywhere. After wandering around the house and it’s attached museum we were ushered into a viewing room where we watched the documentary on Joy Adamson’s life.

Crazy fishermen busy working not more than twenty meters from the hippos

Well, I’ll have to do a little bit of my own research, but frankly, I was quite horrified by this woman. Firstly, she kept getting married and then falling in love with a second and subsequently third man, each time divorcing the poor bastard she’d married before “till I love someone else more than you.” Then, she got to live this charmed existence in Kenya, financially supported by whichever husband she happened to be with at the time, and spent her days painting flowers while World War II was raging back in Europe. Finally, after her husband shot a lion during a safari, they decided to bring the cubs home and raise them at their house as pets. This led to her lifelong passion for wild cats, studying them and learning how to rehabilitate them back in the wild, which she then, of course, monopolized on financially by writing books about it all.

Frankly, she was very lucky to be doing what she was doing at that time, because nowadays she’d be arrested for what she pulled. “Born Free?” Yeah – they were, until your husband shot their mother and then they had to live with you pawing at them and pulling their tails (which you can witness on the video multiple times) and becoming rich as a result. I found her to be a most disagreeable woman and found her legitimizing the domestication of these wild lions and leopards to be quite disgusting.

It is probably a reflection of how times have changed, and I’m sure her foundation has actually done a lot of good in terms of protecting the cats here in National Park. That being said, “ugh” – what a horrible woman.

Fish Eagle above Lake Naivasha

The following day I was well and truly in need of some solid rest and so reluctantly turned down the opportunity to go to Hell’s Gate National Park and partake in the only biking safari in Africa, for the chance to try and get healthy again.
I was sad to miss out on that experience, especially since it sounded like a great workout too.

Instead, I had a lovely afternoon talking to Greg, one of the passengers on our truck, who at 75, was mightily impressive in all he had done in his life and all the vitality and energy he still showed for his continued adventures. I write this recollection with sadness, as Greg tragically died of a heart attack a few days later during our Gorilla trek in Bwinde Impenetrable National Forest.

Hippo strolling through camp

He made quite a distinct impression on me, and in the short week or so our group knew him, he became well liked and a team favorite. He had the most amazing stories that would start off, giving just one example, like “Well, you know…I was working in Papua New Guinea when Saigon fell….” – and you’d just shake your head and marvel at him.
I was very saddened by his death, as we all were, and my heart goes out to his family.

Nothing else really exciting happened at Naivasha other than me feeling utterly sorry for myself, having a good cry and getting nicely drunk with two of the girls in the bar next door who kindly listened to my stories about how this trip was supposed to be mending my broken heart.

Which it wasn’t, but by now, has definitely started to.

The Garden Route Part I: Wine and Ostrich Country

31 Sunday May 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, South Africa

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Adventure Sports, Animals, Biking, Caves, Cycling

Heading out on our bike tour of Stellenbosch

My lovely tent mate, Maud, and I headed out from Cape Town and met up in Stellenbosch for some girl time with wine. I had purchased a Baz Bus ticket that allowed me 14 days of unlimited hop on and off transport between Cape Town and Johannesburg. I had a rough itinerary already planned out ( I know, you’re shocked by that!) but was open and willing to make changes along the way should the mood strike or I received a significant personal recommendation.

I knew I wanted to have at least one day in Stellenbosch as a good starting point for my embarking on independent travel. And I was thrilled that Maud was up to meet me there, and go on a biking wine tour.

We were super lucky in that we were the only two people booked on the tour and it was a beautiful sunny day. We met with our guide and started the tour with a cycle around the main town of Stellenbosch and campus of the large university the town is also famous for. The town is framed by the most stunning countryside and mountains and I was thoroughly enjoying being out of the big city, breathing in the fresh air, and enjoying the exercise.

We visited two wineries, both of which were in stunning settings. The first had such an incredible backdrop of lake and mountains that the photos we shot during our tasting looked artificially superimposed. See for yourself!

Lake and mountain view at the vineyard

Right?

Feeling quite tipsy and thoroughly happy after our ride, Maud and I enjoyed a lovely coffee and Belgian waffle on a trendy café-lined street before both going to get haircuts. Unfortunately, my hairdresser decided to cut an extra inch off the right side of my head vs. the left side, and I only noticed upon our return to our hostel…which ended up being an adventure in and of it!

Thoroughly looking forward to a home-made tuna salad, we asked around as to where we might find a cab to drive us to our hostel. No-one seemed to know where we might be able to locate one and we started to grow slightly nervous. We walked to several in-city hostels and we were told that cabs stopped operating at 5pm! What?!!

Don’t I look super-imposed onto a green screen in this picture??!

Eventually, a kind hotel shuttle driver offered to drop us off, and we were saved from our complacent “I’m used to being in Cape Town” attitudes.

We enjoyed a lovely evening’s company with our dorm mates who were Peace Corps volunteers from the States working in Zambia. They told us some fascinating stories about the challenging projects they’d been occupied with in the rural center of that country. One of the more memorable, was the locals’ preference for “dry sex”. What on earth is “dry sex”, I hear you ask.

Maud and I chatting with the Peace Corps Volunteers

Well, I was fascinated to learn as well. Dry sex is sex where there is no internal lubrication in the woman. In fact, along with ensuring (of course) that the woman is not aroused before intercourse, young women in some Zambian villages are literally taught how to dry out their vaginas using certain leaves/herbs in order to please their husbands – who’s preference is for the sex to be nice and rough…ergo “Dry”. The reason the volunteers even got involved in this discussion is because in their health care education efforts, it is important for locals not to engage in this practice as the resulting abrasions vastly increase the chances of spreading the HIV virus which is rampant in Zambia.

Asking them how their efforts at condom education fared – their response was equally disheartening. They told us that locals would say “Well, when I bake a nice juicy chicken, I don’t put it in a plastic bag before I enjoy eating it…!”

Yeah…it’s like that.

From Stellenbosch I said my farewell to Maud and boarded my Baz Bus to my first stop on the famed Garden Route – Outsdhoorn – world capital of the ostrich!

Ostriches in the Ostrich capital of the world

I stayed at Backpacker’s Paradise and it really was one of the nicest hostels I’ve ever stayed at. And it was a paradise for me when I found out on arrival that one of the manager’s was also a masseuse and was willing to give me a massage that evening. It was not only the best massage I’ve had on this trip so far, it was the best massage of my life!

Dinner that night was ostrich meat, roast potatoes and salad. I ate with a highly immature group of five English girls who giggled hysterically in between their ceaseless chatter about boys they’d hooked up with at last year’s Glastonbury festival. Ahhhh….hostels! Yet again, I discover that I’ve been traveling and staying in hostels since I was 17 alongside the other 18-25 year olds. The only problem is – I’m now 39, but the other backpackers have stayed the same age! What is nice, however, is that with age comes the ability to fend off peer pressure and truly do what one feels is in one’s best interest. For me, it was having my dinner and heading straight to sleep.

Outsdhoorn proved to offer quite an adventurous, strenuous day trip which consisted of being driven to the top of Swartberg Pass (1568 M) and then dropped off with a mountain bike for a 56km (about half downhill) adventure. The weather at the top of the pass was drastically different due to the elevation, and I was glad that I had brought lots of warm layers and my wooly hat! The ride literally started off in the clouds, but it wasn’t too long before I descended below the cloud line and found myself whizzing past green pastures full of ostriches, and rolling hills. It was just lovely.

Biking down from Swartberg Pass

The other main attraction in the area is the Cango Caves. Having visited lots of caves during my trip in South America last summer, I wasn’t too enthused about going – but I decided to at least go check out the visitor center and decide if I wanted to do the full tour or not.

The pictures at the ticket booth were pretty impressive so I signed up for the 90 minutes “adventure” tour – touted as being as close to splunking minus equipment that a person can get.

The cave tour actually far surpassed my expectations – the main caverns were enormous and were beautifully lit to highlight the wonderful stalagmite and stalactite formations. As the guided group continued deeper into the cave, the passages got narrower and trickier to get through. Our guide, Theo (a Xhosa) was hilarious telling us stories of fat tourists who’d gotten themselves stuck in some of the passageways and had to get extricated using copious amounts of grease lubricant. Some of the passageways were rather panic-inducing, but I was proud of myself for getting through it. Unlike many cave systems I’ve been in, this one has no oxygen supply save for the initial opening, so you could really feel the air getting thinner the further you progressed into the cave.

The wonderful stalagmite and stalactite formations

At the turnaround point, there was a section that you had to slide down, head first on your tummy in order to squeeze your way through. A few of the larger men in the group had to turn around and come back a different way. It was challenging, but I managed to squeeze through feeling like I was re-enacting my entry to this world through the birth canal. We were all reminded of this when someone commented that the tunnel “opening” looked like a woman giving birth, and as the last tourist slid on out, Theo announced “And it’s a boy!” – and we all had a good laugh.

The rest of the ride back to town was actually quite arduous and I was glad for all the water I’d brought. I was eager to get to the farmhouse that had been recommended to us as having wonderful cakes and tea as I was getting hungry – only to discover that they were closed! The last six kilometers back to the hostel were the longest I’d ever ridden and I walked back into the lobby absolutely famished.

I ordered a piece of carrot cake and a coffee and sat relishing both as I rested my weary muscles.

My “French” evening in Outsdhoorn

That evening turned out to be rather “French”. I had met a French-Canadian on the bus named Lea (who I continually re-met at various stops along the Baz Bus route as the trip continued) and an American named Jake who was rather fluent in French having just lived in La Reunion these past six months. Then, two guys from Lyon showed up complete in their V-neck sweaters and matching scarves – and we all went out for a meal which turned out to be dominated with French conversation. Despite struggling a little to keep up and understand – I was decidedly happier with the conversation.

Namibia – Cheetahs, Tribal Nakedness, and Extreme Temperatures

18 Monday May 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, Namibia

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Animals, Camping, Culture, Desert, Safari, Travel Days, Villages

View over the northern Namibian desert

We were on the road staying in a different bush camp each night for several days following Etosha and preceding our stop in Swakopmund – a luxurious four days that we’d get to enjoy the luxury of a dorm bed. What was fast becoming apparent in Namibia was the difficulty of maintaining bodily comfort due to the excessive swings in ambient temperature each day. Mornings waking up huddled in my 15 degree F sleeping bag were cold, breath creating its own fog on exhalation. They required long pants, and fleece layers as well as my wooly hat. However, by 10am we were often sweltering in the heat of the sun, the temperature starting to soar and then bake us through to sunset when it would turn around and plummet once again.

I came up with an ingenious routine of dressing in layers that could be easily peeled away – so I’d wear my shorts under my long pants, and my tank top underneath a t-shirt and long sleeved shirt and fleece on top, knowing that I could peel the clothes and stow them comfortably in my day bag.

There were times, however, when even this wasn’t adequate – such as during our drive south once we’d hit the western coast of Namibia, known as the skeleton coast, presumably because of the number of ships that had wrecked here as well as the number of skeletons that amass on the shores of the massively populated seal colonies. Apparently, this area gets a lot of its wind currents from Antarctica, and on two separate days, the cold was so bitter that it sent all of us diving into our lockers to extract our sleeping bags which we proceeded to climb into, fully clothed, even as we sat on our chairs huddled together for collective warmth.

Stroking one of the “pet” cheetahs…not that I approved of the place

Namibia is covered with desert landscapes, but also incredibly beautiful rock formations, sand dunes, and miles and miles of beautiful sandy beaches. Our first stop after leaving Etosha National Park was the Petrified forest park where we endured blistering sun and temperatures for a thankfully short walk to view the petrified logs. Later we were taken to a rather strange and somewhat disturbing “Cheetah Park” where the white Namibian owners had 3 cheetahs kept in a domestic capacity as pets, together with a group of “fenced in” cheetahs that they fed daily as part of their artificial cheetah safari. Enquiring as to how they came to have cheetahs on their farm, the owner told a rather disturbing story, but didn’t seem to have any ethical issues with it himself. He basically explained that cheetahs had been attacking and eating his cows, and that he’d taken to shooting them (around 10-15 years ago) but then one time, decided that he’d catch them instead using a trap. After successfully trapping one female cheetah, it turned out she was pregnant, and so he decided to take the cubs away from their mother and keep them as pets, and later charge people to come to his home and have pictures taken with his cuddly friends. Of course, he used slightly different verbiage – but this was the gist of it.

Creepy, right?

Pretty Cheetah

What made the place even more suspect was that we were later driven around what was essentially a penned in area of land where we observed maybe twenty cheetahs all waiting to be fed by the chunks of meat the driver would heave into the air. Some of the cheetahs looked a little sickly, like they’d been physically harassed by the other cheetahs, and besides my obvious concern over their well being in this regard, I couldn’t shake the feeling that cheetahs really should be roaming free, hunting, and catching their own food.

Cheetahs, cheetahs, everywhere…but waiting to be fed? please….

Hoping for a more authentic experience than the Cheetah park, we headed the next morning on a visit of a Himba tribal village. Many of the Himba people living in rural Namibia still live with their traditions and customs that are unavoidably startling and somewhat uncomfortable for us westerners to observe – especially when it is presented in this fashion of “come to our village and see our naked women, our huts, and our children presented to you as if they are exhibits in a museum.” Except the exhibits are alive and you feel as though you’re violating their rights to privacy taking photos (which they encouraged us to) as if they’re lions in a game reserve. Ultimately, however, the culture of the Himba people is so foreign and fascinating, that one feels compelled to go and see for oneself, and one can’t help but take photos and swallow the given discomfort that accompanies the experience.

Himba woman and her son – I love the village meets western clothing in this pic (see the baby’s shoes)

Young men of the Himba tribe have their three front lower teeth knocked out by their fathers when they are young teenagers. We were informed that this both distinguishes their tribal roots and also aids in the pronunciation of their dialect. Women are mostly naked, dressed in little more than leather strap-like skirts and elaborate beadwork about their necks and chest. Most notable, however, is the habit of the women not to bathe – at all. Instead, they keep “clean” through a combination of spreading Okra-based paint onto their skin (which gives them their rich rust-orange like color) and sitting in the huts and “smoking” themselves – which is exactly what it sounds like: sitting in an oxygen deprived hut directly in front of a fire and letting the smoke cleanse your body (though exactly how this happens I’m not sure.)

The men, apparently, wash as we do with soap and water. Of course, I felt a natural revulsion for their sanitary practices, and I recognize how ethnocentric that stance is, but I’m ok with it. Making it even more difficult to believe – the women also put copious amounts of okra onto their hair, creating these elaborate headdresses out of their own tresses that they then embellish at the ends with circular mounds of animal fur.

The seal colony on the Skeleton Coast

I found myself aching to ask how/what the women used during their menstrual cycles and whether they could use water during this time for their ablutions. I was left, unfortunately, to wonder.

This visit had been a highlight for Andy, a beloved member of our group, who was also celebrating his 46th birthday on the same day. There were the obvious jokes about getting to see naked women on his birthday. Since we were facing a very long drive to our bush camp that evening, we all decided to stock up on some booze to go along with the game bbq dinner Tabitha had promised to make us that evening, as a treat. Around 2pm in the afternoon, someone suggested we crack open the alcohol stash and make a party of the afternoon’s drive, and that was it.

Truck Party time.

Sunset and partying on the roof of our truck in our Bush Camp

Andy put on a rocking compilation of music and we were all soon singing along and dancing up and down the central walkway of the truck. We just about managed to get out of the truck and scramble to dizzying high viewpoints as the truck stopped at scenic photo opps along the way, though the climbs got progressively more difficult the more libations we imbibed.

By the time we got to the absolutely stunning setting for our bush camp, it was already time for sunset and most of us were winding down from our “night” of drinking. The meal that night was the most memorable of the whole trip – we ate Oryx or Gemsbok and it was quite possibly the most delicious meat I’ve ever put in my mouth.

By 8 o clock, Andy had collapsed asleep in his tent, so any further party plans were soon squished besides the few of us who decided to make a night of sleeping directly under the stars sans our tents.

Nicely recovered from what had been a “day of revelry” – we happily set off towards the skeleton coast, first re-tracing our route a few miles as two members of the group had lost articles of clothing and hats during the dancing and truck party the afternoon prior. Half successful, we turned about and headed towards the aforementioned block of cold air that hit us a few hours later, promptly finding us inside our sleeping bags in due course. We had a number of strange stops that day before our perhaps even more strange stop that night at our camp (that had showers!!) at Hettie’s Bay. We visited an abandoned oil mining shaft in the desert, a shipwreck on the beach, several more cliff top view points, and most surprising of all – Cape Cross Seal Colony.

Never have I seen this many seals in one place. It made the Galapagos look like a quiet vacation spot for seals by comparison. There were literally thousands of them crowded on the beach as far as the eye could see, lots and lots of young pups all screeching for their mothers amongst the masses. If you looked carefully, you could also spot lots of pups that hadn’t survived and their remaining skeletons littering the beach too. Reading the interpretive signs that were on display, we were disturbed to read that during the summer months when the pups are born, thousands can perish on a given day if the wind dies down for an extended period of hours – offering no relief from the relentless heat that they are just too weak to survive.

Desert

The temperature dropped even further as we arrived in Hettie’s Bay – a very very strange and somewhat creepily deserted town that was home for the night. As it was the birthday of another member of our group, I made my best effort to go out for a drink after dinner – and found myself in a pub that somewhat resembled one of the nasty run down pubs they have in Everett along the Aurora highway. Except with really bad Afrikaans music playing.

Weird.

I was very happy to arrive in Swakopmund the next day, and the weird Germanness of the town was overlooked, for now, because of the prospect of sheets and a bed for the next re-humanizing four days.

Etosha National Park – Moonwalking Rhinos and Cheeky Honey Badgers

15 Friday May 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, Namibia

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Animals, Safari

Lions at Etosha

Our first big stop in Namibia was the large game reserve of Etosha National Park. After a long drive in the morning, in blistering heat, our driver Pete told us that he was going to arrange for us to get private vehicle game drives as he was suffering with food poisoning. After setting up our tents, we piled into two 4 x 4 vehicles for our 3 hour game drive. We were informed that many of the animals had already moved to the western part of the park in search of water after the recent rains…a bit disappointing to hear as we first headed out. Regardless, we were able to spot Eland, Hartebeest, Zebra, Giraffe, and Elephants during the drive. We also had fun taking perspective pictures on the salt flats in the middle of the park.

The absolute highlight of this place, however, came a little later in the day and was completely unexpected. We had been told, in passing (as if it were really a minor detail) that there was a watering hole that we could go to after dinner, and if we were lucky, we’d be able to observe animals coming to drink throughout the evening and night. However, as a few of us were readying ourselves to take a dip in the pool, a woman came by and casually said “oh! There’s Elephants in the watering hole at the moment…!”

Hartebeest

Since I was already in my swimsuit, I decided to take a quick swim first and then headed down to the watering hole. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, but a set of signs quickly pointed me in the right direction. At first, I felt a stab of disappointment as my friends, Sandrine and Benoit, informed me that the entire family of elephants, who had been playing in the water had now left.

My heart sank, but I sat down on a comfortable rock and enjoyed the view as the sun began to do the same.

Heading into Etosha, watching for wildlife from the Beach on the truck

And then, just as everything had grown extremely quiet, a black rhino ambled up to the water’s edge and began to drink. It was incredible, being this close to the Rhino, and seeing him in such an unobscured fashion. It was a beautiful scene and my heart was filled with gratitude.

Then, as we were getting ready to head back and shower in time for dinner, another rhino appeared from the bush and approached the watering hole! Black rhinos are solitary animals, so it is extremely rare to spot two of them in one place. These two rhinos were clearly male rivals, each asserting his authority over the space with audible grunts and aggressive posturing of his horn.

As time went on, things got even crazier, and Sandrine and I began clutching each other in excitement, unable to comprehend the rare spectacle we were being treated to. The two rhino began to actually fight, one charging the other, and the other backing up in a move that strangely and hysterically reminded me of Michael Jackson’s moonwalk. Then, another two rhinos appeared from the bush, chasing each other in a huge cloud of dust, dispersing the two that were already at the watering hole with a very audible display of upset at the intrusion. Then, a hyena appeared, seemingly unconcerned by the rhino situation ensuing, and calmly drank at the water’s edge.

Elephants at the Watering Hole (someone else’s pic!)

For another hour or so, these four rhino came and drank at the hole, fought with one another, scratched themselves on a tree trunk, and stalked one another back into the bush. It was a display of wills, strength and, well, high-stakes drama.

It made me realize something very important. Each day we’d been on a safari, or visiting a place in Africa where we were on the lookout for wild animals, our guides would ask us, “what animals are you hoping to spot today?” I always found this question bemusing, and usually resorted to the response that I’d like to see one of the rarer cats, a leopard, say. However, this experience made me realize that on a safari, it’s not what animals you spot that make the trip memorable, it’s whether the animals are exhibiting interesting behavior while you happen to be observing them.

Cheeky Honey Badgers right before they upturned the trash cans

What kind of animal they are is of less importance.

It is very rare to see rhino. It is even rarer to see more than one black rhino in one place, and astonishingly rare to have seen them fighting/interacting/vocalizing the way the small group of us did that evening. I was humbled by the experience, and to that point – it became the highlight of the entire trip.

We also had one other treat in store. The Honey Badger is a creature endemic to this region, and are known for coming into the campgrounds of Etosha and wreaking havoc, eating food out of tents, etc. After dinner, as I was getting ready to return to the watering hole, I watched as two honey badgers came into camp and started attacking some towels that people had hung out to dry. They are aggressive little buggers, with razor sharp teeth, and our guide had told us that they have been known to attack a lion, and humans. I stayed a little back, and watched them as they also proceeded to tip over 3 of our garbage cans and make a complete mess of our campsite.

Taking silly perspective photos during our game drive

Returning to the watering hole after dinner(Sandrine and I stayed there until about 11:30pm) we only got to see a single rhino, and a single hyena return – things were altogether much quieter and no way near as dramatic as at sunset.

Etosha was a very special place.

Okavango Delta – Botswana Unplugged

12 Tuesday May 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, Botswana

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Tags

Animals, Camping, Safari

Sunset on the Delta

Arriving in Maun, we didn’t have much time to chill before we had to pack up for our 3 day/2night mini “break within a break” trip to the Okavango Delta. The Delta is an huge expanse of land in Northern Botswana that is covered with fresh water that flows south from Angola, with huge areas of rivers and islands teeming with wildlife scattered throughout the region.

I was looking forward to having a smaller group dynamic as it turned out that only about 1/2 of the group wanted to go, the rest elected to stay in the campsite in Maun. This was going to be very basic camping with no facilities, no electricity, no cooking facilities beyond a fire we made ourselves. To get to the island where we’d be rough camping involved a very attractive aspect of the trip – sitting back in a Mokoro – a traditional wooden (now made primarily from synthetic materials) canoe that sits very low on the water and can be “driven” with a long wooden pole that is reminiscent of the methods used by gondoliers in Venice.

Cooking at our campfire

We drove about an half hour outside of Maun to a tiny rural village, where we were met by our Mokoro paddlers and camping “crew” and helped load the canoes with our equipment, food, and water for the stay.

The canoe ride out to the island lasted around two hours and was an almost hypnotically relaxing experience. Just being able to lay back in the sun with legs outstretched and just watch the water glide by, covered in giant Lilly pads with frogs croaking and crickets chirping the only noise that broke the haunting silence. It was lovely.

Heading downstream in the Mokoro

Upon arrival, we were told that our itinerary during our stay would involve early morning game “walks” where we would head into the interior of the island and try to spot Elephant, Zebra, Antelope, Wildebeest, and if we were very lucky, a big cat (though I wasn’t too sure how excited I would feel if I saw a lion wandering around when I was on foot) while the middle of the day would be taken as a giant siesta due to the extreme heat and humidity making it difficult to do anything active.

It was a very peaceful and refreshing two days spent in the Delta. Without much to “do” when resting in camp, we were able to slow down our pace completely and fill the time with conversation in the group, playing games, reading, napping, and taking a swim in the “hopefully – “wait! What was that noise?!!” non-crocodile infested waters. We even played a great game that relied heavily on charade-like skills and it was thoroughly enjoyed by all.

Safari on foot – sometimes crossing to different islands

The highlight for me was the late evenings. We would cook our meals as a large group and eat all around our communal campfire. Then we’d go out to the riverside and just bask in the glory of the un-illuminated night sky that shone brilliantly with thousands of stars, while simultaneously watching the flashing sparks of the lightning bugs that lit up the air nearer the ground with their glow. Though difficult at times, we also tried to listen…intently listen – to the beautiful silence that accompanied the hum of the crickets (which Andy humorously dubbed to sound like clanking beer bottles) in the night sky.

Every now and then, the sounds of the crickets were poignantly interrupted with the low groans of the hippos standing nearby, or the laugh of a hyena. It was eerie, and a little hair-raising, but deliciously exciting and adventuresome at the same time.

Froggy

We walked for miles on our game walks and did manage to spot several different kinds of wildlife – elephants, zebra, wildebeest and giraffe among them. Our guides were enthusiastic to explain anything we might want to know about the delta and how to keep safe when walking so close to these amazing creatures. We were warned of the false charges that the elephants can make – exhorted to stand our ground, and not run, should one of them decide to.

On the last night, our crew entertained us with local songs and dances around the fire. Then we played a nerve wracking game called ‘Chief” which by a process of elimination left only the quickest witted amongst us still standing at the conclusion.

Sun setting…

By the time it was time to turn the mokoros around and head back to Maun, I felt like a more wound-down version of myself and like I’d formed a closer bond with the individuals who decided to come along. We hadn’t partied, hadn’t sang music loudly till the wee hours of the morning, but we’d thoroughly appreciated the rest, return to nature, and peace that the Delta provided to us.

On arrival back in Maun, we were very grateful to have an hour or so to re-humanize with a shower, and try to check some email, though this turned out to be an exercise merely in frustration. We were bush camping that evening as we headed out of Botswana in the direction of the Namibian border – which we would cross the following morning, which also just happened to be my birthday.

Climbing the Baobab Tree

It’s not every birthday that you get to go to Namibia. But I did. Funnily enough, on a 56 day trip, it was only on my birthday that I overslept by accident – Maud’s alarm clock failing to wake us up in time for our 6am departure. We still managed to eat, pack, take down the tent, and use the “facilities” (a hole that you had to dig with a shovel) in under 20 minutes! The border crossing passed without any more incident than the final foot & mouth disease shoe-washing checkpoint – and two customs’ officers who failed to notice that it was my birthday upon stamping my passport.

It was a long drive day – but we were lucky enough to stop at a supermarket where I decided to buy ice and lots of goodies for myself to enjoy later that night in bush camp #2 – and technically, the 4th night of bush camping in a row. I ate a donut and got myself custard to have as dessert after dinner.

Birthday celebrations

…and Cake

Our campsite that evening was also unique in that it contained the largest Baobab tree in Namibia. These trees are significant in that they look like they are “upside down” – meaning their branches appear as if they are, in fact, roots instead. We had fun taking pics climbing the massive tree as the sun set.

Later, after dinner, we drank and danced to music – and I even sang a song for the group. I got a birthday cake replete with candles that struggled to stay alight – but all in all – it was a lovely birthday celebration and I was grateful to have it here in the African bush.

It was, as it turned out, entirely ironic that when the party was finally getting going, around 10pm, we were sent to bed after a small scuffle broke out between two of the lads. One of the few nights that I was in the mood to stay up drinking and dancing…and alas, it was not to be. Funny how that works out, eh?

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Anita Go Travel

~ Life as a passport, one stamp at a time.

Tag Archives: Animals

Benin Part I: A Safari to Remember

Ghana Part VI: Tamale, Mole and the whole Enchilada

Sierra Leone Part III – Tiwai Island: Christmas and Monkeys

Sierra Leone Part I – Freetown

Into the Ugandan Highlands – Gorillas, Pygmies, and a Tragedy

The Gorilla Loop Part I – Lake Naivasha

The Garden Route Part I: Wine and Ostrich Country

Namibia – Cheetahs, Tribal Nakedness, and Extreme Temperatures

Etosha National Park – Moonwalking Rhinos and Cheeky Honey Badgers

Okavango Delta – Botswana Unplugged