African Safari: Part 2 (Aug 29 - Sept 2)

Destination: Tanzania

Aug 29 Lake Manyara National Park

Mount Kilimanjaro was still hidden in cloud when we hit the road at sunrise. Darn it! Entering Amboseli we were captivated by a massive herd of elephants grazing not far from their sleeping quarters. Families with offspring ranging from suckling infants to post adolescence presented endless photo opportunities especially in the morning light.

Our guide, James, a serious photographer, said he could spend hours watching a herd, waiting for that perfect shot. He told us that much of what we know about elephants is based on research conducted at this park. Amboseli was the home of Echo, the most researched elephant in the world, who died in 2009 at the age of 60.

We bade James farewell at the Tanzania border, where we met our new guide/driver, David. Thankfully, from the border we were on a smooth paved road to Arusha, a tourist hub for Mount Kilimanjaro. We had decent views of Mt Meru, less famous, but at 15,000 feet, not to be sniffed at.

Mt. Meru, Tanzania

In Arusha we stopped to have our boxed picnic lunch at a chi-chi tourist retail center. High end crafts, jewelry and paintings were displayed in stores and galleries connected by attractive pathways through a gardenscape of water features, animal sculpture, and rock walls.

A scenic drive with views of the Manyara escarpment brought us to Lake Manyara National Park. This park was named after a species of Euphorbia with finger like stems. We were welcomed by a troop of baboons swinging down branches and scampering off into bushes. Around us we noticed interesting trees - mahogany, yellow-wood acacia and baobabs.

Baobab Tree

Iconic baobabs stuck out like skeletons having shed their leaves for the winter. Their thick, cylindrical trunks and intricate branches presented a fascinating visual.
At the lake, the park's focal point, we gasped at the staggering variety of bird life. A malachite kingfisher, a sacred ibis, a great blue heron, crested cranes, an adorable family of ducks. Nearby, snorting hippos in the famous hippo pool competed for our attention. We were allowed out of the vehicle for a stroll around the reed fringed lake and pool. From a wooden bridge we looked out over the flat plains of the escarpment. Nature's sounds rendered an atmosphere of tranquility.
We ended the day at Nysa Lodge managed by a woman from Spain. The sprawling complex in a neat garden was surprisingly lifeless. What a contrast to the evening before! At dinner time we met some Canadian guests - an extended family - who had just spent a week climbing Kilimanjaro and were keen to share with us their experiences. Pleasant company and a decent meal featuring fresh vegetables, lamb, and fragrant rice harvested from nearby paddy fields capped off another remarkable day.

Aug 30 The Serengeti

A day of anticipation and excitement. When a place of our fantasies turned to reality. The drive to the Serengeti, compared to our Kenya days, was fairly painless. We stopped at pullouts en route for sublime Rift Valley and Ngorogoro Crater views. The landscape turned progressively dry. Deeper into the wilderness we entered the world of the Maasai. At times we saw young men in black cloaks, their faces decorated with white paint. Teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Couldn't help musing about the future of the Maasai people. Their subsistence way of life is under threat due to overpopulation, we've been told.

At the park entrance there were numerous safari vehicles - all land rovers - and a tourist center with souvenir shops, cafés, restrooms and a shady picnic area with wooden tables. On a hike up to a viewpoint we had to dodge alien like Agama agama lizards. Gazing at the landscape around us we understood where this legendary park got its name. Flat, wheat colored plains stretched far into the distance. Down at the picnic tables Superb starlings waited eagerly for handouts as we ate our boxed lunches. A cappuccino indulgence followed lunch and then we were ready to penetrate the world's most famous wildlife reserve.
For the first hour we saw no wildlife as we drove through monotonous landscape - flat, dry, with intermittent clumps of thorny acacia. David reminded us that the animals had migrated to the Masai Mara. In the rainy season, which starts in December, the herds will return to the central plains of the Serengeti.
It was the sight of a jackal that woke us up from a post lunch drowsiness. Furtive movements evoked childhood fables in which these animals were portrayed as sly villains. A herd of hartebeest came into view soon after. What joy to watch them! Short horns curved to a heart shape looked especially attractive when a group of three stood side by side. Further on we made out some lionesses asleep on the grass. Then another stretch of no animals for a while ... until we saw a fish eagle perched way up on a tree branch. More uneventful driving.
And then, late in the afternoon, something spectacular happened. Surely the high point of the entire trip! The story we'd tell well into old age whenever the topic of this trip came up. Yes, you guessed it! A leopard. And not just some fuzzy shape high up on a tree. No. This notoriously elusive feline was just meters away on a branch facing us. Its intoxicating beauty clearly visible with naked eyes.

Leopard at Serengeti National Park

I photographed it with my phone and immediately posted it on Facebook. (Connectivity in the wilderness was astonishing!) We would have been perfectly happy to just gawp at the leopard's inert body, but it actually woke up, dropped us a bored glance, repositioned itself on the branch, then went off to sleep again. And we continued to stare ...
Heading to our accommodation, euphoric and fatigued, our minds were on hot showers and sundowners. But nature had a different agenda. First, a secretary bird caught our attention as it marched across the grass. We watched this unusual large black legged bird until it disappeared. Driving on we came upon a couple of miniature antelope, dik diks. They looked right up at us, most adorably, when David stopped the vehicle. And then, just minutes from Thorn Tree Camp, we spotted three sprightly lion cubs. One, a year or so older than the other two. We could make out their mother asleep in the grass nearby. Watching them playing together and running about on a horizontal tree trunk was immensely satisfying! At times they would pose together on a branch and stare at us. "Aren't we just the cutest things you've ever seen?" they seemed to ask.

Darkness was imminent when we finally arrived at Thorn Tree Camp. With twelve individual tent cabins and a tented common area inside the Serengeti, the place oozed charm. We badly wanted to sit by the inviting campfire on the comfy chairs facing the wilderness. But we had to rush to get showered and ready for dinner. Our rooms had the same luxurious African themed touches of Enkorok Mara Camp. The power here came from solar energy. Dinner was fine dining with classy table service. Polite servers first brought out warm, fresh baked bread and the soup course. Next came a series of exquisitely prepared dishes served out of traditional gourd bowls. The cuisine showcased regional farm produce and the talents of a sophisticated chef.
Heading back to our tent cabins, escorted by night guards, we looked up at the night sky and gasped. So far away from light pollution we could easily see the Milky Way, along with billions of stars. We fell asleep to the sounds and cries of the wild.

Day 8 The Serengeti (Aug 31)

In the morning a flock of squawking Marabou Storks graced the camp. After a lavish breakfast of freshly baked pastries, scrambled eggs and fresh fruit we set out for another full day of game viewing. After yesterday's highs and lows we had no idea what to expect. "Unpredictable," David said. "But I'm sure you'll see predators."
"What do they eat if the herbivores are at the Masai Mara?" we asked.
"They don't all migrate. Plenty of food here."
Indeed, minutes into our drive we saw a herd of resident wildebeest, a different species to what we'd seen at the Masai Mara.

Resident wildebeest, Serengeti

Their dark hides were tinged red by the morning sun. Then a lilac breasted roller perched on a branch close to our vehicle snagged our attention.

Lilac breasted roller, Serengeti

Such arresting beauty! Today we were exploring a different part of this vast expanse of national park. The day was far from uneventful. An assortment of wildlife frequently appeared in our field of vision. Vultures, cranes, storks, a martial eagle, a hyena. It became a little more interesting when David followed a line of Land Rovers to a spot from where we could see a cheetah peering through the grass. Researchers in a research vehicle off road, were watching intently through binoculars. Minutes after the research vehicle left, James impulsively shot off toward the cheetah, his judgement clouded by an overzealousness to impress us. The sight of a mother cheetah and her cubs was spellbinding, though the cost of going over a termite mound, startling the animals and causing us to shoot up from our seats tainted the memory.

We proceeded along a quiet stretch before arriving at a pool filled with hippos and Nile crocodiles.
There were crocodiles on logs close enough to us that we could see their sharp teeth and body designs.


Up on a tree close to us we spotted a red-billed hornbill.

I'm not a birder in even the mildest way, but the sight of that prominent bright bill and long, white tail had me transfixed.
On our return in the late afternoon we were intrigued by a dead antelope high up on a tree. It had to belong to a leopard, but where was he? Hidden feet from us having a good old laugh at our expense? We stopped to admire a giraffe, then a kori bustard. A herd of nonresident wildebeest surprised us. James explained that during the Great Migration some animals get lost and don't make it across the Mara River. They join up with other lost members and form their own herd back in the Serengeti.

We arrived at our camp early enough to enjoy gin and tonics around the campfire. At this golden hour, as the sun sank behind low hills, a tranquility settled over the savanna.

Sunset from Thorn Tree Camp, Serengeti

Day 9 Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater (Sept 1)

Our departure from the Serengeti the morning of September 1, was anything but boring. We were heading toward the exit, the sun just above the horizon, when word spread that a lone black rhino was spotted.

We followed the line of safari vehicles to a road from where we could see the agitated animal quite easily. Poor beast! It raced forward, hesitated, turned around, broke into a run again. Somehow it had strayed from its herd in the northern plains. Ranger vehicles following it would rescue it at some point in the day.
A short while later a passing driver gave David information. He turned the vehicle around and off we went until we merged with a line of land rovers. What could it be? Suddenly we saw a lion heading in our direction. Then we noticed several lionesses lying in the grass not far from us.

Lionesses eating zebra carcass, Serengeti

The next fifteen minutes seemed staged for safari tourists. A lion saunters toward us, then proceeds across the road. A lioness jumps up, walks to the carcass (a zebra) and drags it off to the pride. Another lion rises up from close to where the carcass had been, and licks the entrails left on the ground. Meanwhile about six lionesses take turns to feast on the dead zebra. We happened to have an unobstructed, close up view of the entire scene.
On our drive out of the park, past Maasai villages and dusty, arid countryside, Mahler's Symphony Number 9 played in my head. Indeed, our Serengeti experience was so like a Mahler symphony. A slow, gradual start; alternating allegro and andante parts; the build up toward the end when all instruments come into play, percussion and horns dominating for a dramatic finish. Sighs of satisfaction at the end summarize the sentiment.

After two days of nature immersion it was a bit of a shock to be on a paved road again and to see people going about their daily lives. A couple hours later, at the Great Rift Valley we began a steep descent on a windy dirt road into the world's largest caldera, the Ngorogoro Crater. Once at the bottom we unclenched our fists and let out our breaths.

Jackal

The small, manageable scale of this park was most welcome at this stage of our tour. We were impressed at the abundance of wildlife in this habitat with its unique climate and ecosystems. The vegetation here was lush, water was plentiful, and the temperature warmer than at the rim. It has to be said, though, that after seven intensive days of wildlife viewing, we merely smiled rather than exclaimed at the sight of warthogs, baboons, giraffe, zebra, gazelles, and impala. We were a little more excited to see with great frequency hyena and jackals.

Spotted hyena

And down at the lake a pink expanse of flamingoes delighted us. We munched our picnic lunch on the bank of a big pool watching hippos just meters from us. In the afternoon, massive herds of Cape buffalo in the south eastern part had us gaping. We also saw huge herds of wildebeest. There was even a lioness asleep in the grass for good measure. As we were exiting this incredible park a huge procession of baboons crossed the road in front of us. We could hear shrill whining, then noticed it was coming from a young baboon scampering beside its mother. We watched it hop onto her back and she swatted him off. He shrieked and made another attempt. She hurled him off again. When he tried a third time she let him ride on her back and he quieted down. All this, while more and more of these primates streamed past us.

Baboons, Ngorogoro Crater

We chuckled as we left behind the world of animals.

We stayed at Octagon Lodge, founded by an Irish couple with much of its original Irish character retained. Twelve individual cabins, resembling miniature cottages, were set among trees and shrubs in a park like garden. If you had time (which we didn't) you could order Irish beer at the open walled bar with thatched roof, and relax on a comfortable sofa. We happened to be the only guests here that evening, and the staff fussed over us at dinner. We enjoyed an excellent home style meal of creamy pumpkin soup, fragrant rice, root vegetables, a spicy bean stew, steamed veggies, and meat of some kind in a colorful dining room decorated with vibrant paintings of everyday African scenes.

It felt strange to sink into a comfortable bed and not worry about awakening before sunrise. We didn't have to gobble up our omelettes the next morning. Our last morning on the continent. Strong coffee would have been a treat, but we had to wait to get to a built up city for that. On our way to Arusha we stopped at art and souvenir stalls where we supported the local economy. No tanzanite jewelry purchases though, despite passionate sales pitches! We parted ways with David in Arusha where we boarded a shuttle for Nairobi airport in the early afternoon. This was the roughest part of our ten day trip. A five hour ride on busy two lane roads where there was much overtaking of slow trucks at adrenalin inducing speeds. How immensely relieved we were to be deposited at the airport!

African Safari Part 1 (Aug 24 - Aug 30)

Destination: Kenya

We were a group of five on a 9 day safari in Kenya and Tanzania. Ken and Janis from Santa Barbara, Troy, from England, Daryl and I journeyed into the Serengeti, the Masai Mara, Amboseli, and a few lesser known parks in and around the Great Rift Valley. Daryl and I had been on thrilling safaris in South Africa, so we were primed for high expectations. Our companions were excited too, mainly because they'd never strayed much into the developing world and Africa was a whole new continent for them. We flew into Nairobi, and spent two nights there, before submitting to the fully organized itinerary of Asili Tours.

Aug 24 Nairobi

After an 8 hour flight from Heathrow Airport, a taxi deposited us in the late evening at a friend's home in the Gigiri neighborhood. This was Nairobi's posh part highlighted by elegant homes, attractive landscaping, and foreign embassies. It's also home to the United Nations complex. Gracious, wonderful Yunae welcomed us warmly into her Colonial style home. Over chilled white wine and cheese we had a quick chat before collapsing into beds designed for deep slumber.
In the morning we hopped across the street to the stylish Village Market Mall where we enjoyed fresh brewed strong Kenyan coffee and a light, buttery croissant in the open air central dining court. We were surrounded by trendy cafés and gleaming shops in a complex designed to resemble an open air African market. Features like waterfalls, little rivers and gardens enhanced this impression, but also pointed to Nairobi's flourishing economy. Luckily for us, the weekly Maasai craft market was on at an indoor hall attached to the complex. What a thrill to wander down aisles, admiring vibrant textiles, beaded jewelry, wood carvings, and artwork depicting wildlife and traditional tribal life. This was where we purchased our first souvenir - a banana fiber picture of giraffes.

Karura Forest

Midmorning, Yunae's driver, Ben, shuttled us to the Karura Forest, an oasis of nature in the heart of a chaotic city. The cool temperature (it was midwinter, we were told!) was ideal for a hike. An easy, shaded trail led us to a beautiful waterfall.


Along the way playful monkeys bounded up tree branches, and unusual birds swooped past us. At the park's terrace restaurant, overlooking the forest, we lunched on soup, tart and salad. A too familiar meal in a country thousands of miles from home!
In the afternoon Yunae, who works at the United Nations, very kindly took an hour off her busy day to give us a tour of the buildings and grounds.

United Nations, Nairobi

 Highlights were the chamber where world leaders meet, gifts of sculpture and artwork from various countries, the UNEP building, and the impressively landscaped grounds.
Our full day in the Kenyan capital ended at an Indian restaurant called Open House in the Westlands neighborhood. Over skillfully prepared, robustly spiced food accompanied by the local Tusker beer, we covered a range of topics on contemporary issues.
It was a perfect first day in East Africa thanks to Yunae. However, we didn't see much of the "real" Nairobi.

Aug 25  The Masai Mara

Right after a light breakfast at a downtown Nairobi hotel, James, our first driver/guide, herded us into a 4 by 4 van with a pop up top. The drive to our first park, the Masai Mara, would take a daunting 6 hours. Leaving the city center we were at once exposed to Africa's disconcerting reality. Rows of disheveled tin shacks, make-shift markets and stores, and muddy roads displayed the hardships faced by the modestly dressed people we saw. Two hours later we climbed up a steep road along the Great Rift Valley.

Great Rift Valley, Kenya

At a viewpoint we stopped to marvel at this immense geological phenomenon that stretches from Israel to Mozambique.

After a souvenir purchase - a soap-dish carved with a Rift Valley map - we continued inland where the landscape became increasingly arid and sparsely populated. Euphorbia trees were a common sight. The last stretch of the drive to the Masai Mara was on a primitive dirt road, deeply rutted and potholed.

Maasai village

We were in the land of the Maasai people where centuries old traditions and tribal ways persisted. In the villages we saw clusters of mud huts, and cattle and goats.
Maasai people walked along the road and across the fields, bright red and orange blankets draped over their shoulders. Lean, tall men held in their hands a strong stick. James explained that males are trained to be warriors and at puberty are presented with a stick. The 21st century, however, was very visible. Everyone had cellphones!
Rain slowed us down and by the time we arrived at Enkorok Mara Camp just outside the Masai Mara we were about to faint from hunger.

At this exquisite camp, the staff made their intent to pamper us clear right at the outset when they welcomed us with hot towels and fresh fruit juice. They led us to the dining room where a buffet lunch restored our energy. Our rooms, individual tent cabins, were huge with log style furniture, flush toilets and hot showers. Maasai beaded necklaces and pictures of wildlife adorned the walls. A late afternoon game drive, much to our disappointment, had to be aborted due to a torrential downpour.
But we were in a beautiful setting. Strong tea and tasty Kenyan doughnuts called mandazi, cheered us up. Later, we relaxed over wine (a Chilean Malbec) on comfortable sofas with savanna views in the open plan tented lounge area.
Dinner later that evening was a buffet featuring topnotch cuisine. Flavors, freshness, and textures were faultless. We pigged out on butternut squash soup, roti, aromatic pilaf, steamed peas and carrots, a spicy lentil curry, chicken for the meat eaters, and a fresh salad. Fusion cuisine geared for the international traveler seeking something of the exotic in a foreign place, yet not too unfamiliar.

The generator which provided the energy that enabled us to have creature comforts in the African wilderness, was turned off at the sensible hour of 10:00 PM. We needed a good night's sleep since James wanted us ready at sunrise (7:00 AM.). Night guards on duty assured us that a lion would not tear through our canvas tent in the middle of the night. We fell asleep to a chorus of indistinguishable canine howls.

Aug 26 Masai Mara

A breakfast of cereals, toast, scrambled eggs, baked beans, and fresh fruit (notably passion fruit) fueled us up for a full day in the Masai Mara. Instant coffee surprised us - in this country that grows superior coffee! The sun - deep orange -emerged right after breakfast, and we had to stop to gaze at it, despite being a half hour behind schedule! Fifteen minutes later, in our custom built safari van, we entered the tranquil world of animals. Within minutes herds of gazelle and zebra appeared.

Cape Buffalo

And minutes later we were gasping at wildebeest, Cape buffalo and giraffe, the early morning sun lighting up their bodies into flattering shades. A blue sky and air washed clean from the recent storm lent excellent contrast and definition. The birdlife was phenomenal too. Ostriches, vultures, hawks, fish eagles, Egyptian geese and smaller birds of thrilling hues. Later we noticed a lioness lying in the grass. We pulled up closer and spent a few minutes watching her tummy display her breathing rhythm.
At lunch time in the shade of an acacia tree James put out folding chairs and a table. We sat in comfort in the African bush munching sparsely filled sandwiches, a banana, an apple, and a boiled egg. In the early afternoon we headed toward the Sand River. Due to the Great Migration which occurred in July, the Masai Mara was populated by large herd concentrations. Gazelles, zebra, giraffe, and many, many wildebeest were constantly in our field of vision. Every so often families of warthogs wobbled clumsily through the grass, their comical faces causing us much amusement. We spotted a lone black rhino. James expressed surprise at this rare sight. Black rhinos resided in the northern Serengeti and at the bottom of the Ngorogoro Crater. At the Sand River, close to the Serengeti border, there were greater concentrations of herbivores. In and around the water we could see large numbers of hippos and crocodiles.

Heading back to Enkorok Camp we saw a few topi. Their deep brown colors distinguished them from most of the other wildlife with lighter coloring that blended with the dry grass. A cheetah appeared about 50 meters from the road.

Cheetah

He sat up on his haunches and stared at us. Such mesmerizing beauty. We clicked, again and again. A moment to capture, preserve, freeze. A short while later we saw some wildebeest sprinting across with frantic urgency. What could have spooked them? Continuing on we saw vultures cleaning up the skeleton of an animal the size of a zebra. Much later in the day we were excited to see a couple elephants. Though partly hidden by branches and tall grass, we were able to watch them for a bit. Before exiting the park we saw a hyena sloping through the grass. Minutes later, a jackal scampered by. And when we returned to our camp, utterly exhausted from the full day of wildlife viewing, I felt we had seen everything. Could the rest of the trip top this?

After showers and donning clean evening clothes we joined Ken and Janis at their tent entrance set up for lounging. We enjoyed the breathtaking setting over a crisp, dry Rosé that they'd brought along from their local co-op in France. When darkness fell, close to 7:30, another hearty buffet dinner awaited us. New to us was a traditional hard cornmeal porridge called ugali and a local sautéed spinach. As we were finishing up our meal, all the camp workers, dressed in vibrant Maasai attire, appeared with a birthday cake. There was some confusion due to our original booking two years ago when I indicated the trip was to celebrate Daryl's big birthday. We managed to change that to a celebration of Troy's 60th. Some traditional singing and dancing in which Troy participated, kept the whole dining room amused and entertained. The birthday cake, a vanilla sponge, with buttercream frosting was sliced up and served to everyone in the dining hall. And we all went to bed with great big smiles.

Aug 27 Hell's Gate National Park

Up before sunrise, we rushed through morning rituals, but again failed to make it into the park for sunrise! No chance of seeing lions copulate, or a cheetah sprinting toward its prey, or a leopard carrying a carcass up a tree! Soon after entering the park James received radio information. He sped off onto a narrow lane, the car rocking up, down and sideways. A tricky stream crossing and up a steep hill had us holding our breaths. Then we saw something majestic and understood what the sudden determined maneuver was about.

Lion in the Masai Mara

A lion strode through the grass, his body swaying gracefully and his demeanor portraying the confidence of a king. We had a perfect view of him. His bushy mane and golden body glinted in the morning light. Ken, Janis and Troy were dead silent. A first for them. When the lion ambled out of view, James drove ahead to where we could see him again. What was he up to? Where was his family? Eventually he disappeared in the tall grass beside a leafy tree.

Minutes after returning to the main track we encountered another beauty - a saddle billed stork.

Big, magnificent, it stood close enough to be admired and photographed at leisure. Then it was time to exit this magical park. We stopped at a posh lodge to use their sparkling restrooms. Over a quick cup of coffee we saw dassies roaming around the landscaped grounds. As we drove away from the Masai Mara we were all quiet. After two days of constant highs surely it's downhill from this point?

The drive to our next destination was a slog. Though not busy, a rough, potholed road surface meant an arduous journey. At Hell's Gate we were delighted at the chance to get some exercise and fresh air. A cloudy sky cooled the air to a perfect temperature for a hike. The area's geothermal activity and interesting geologic rock formations provided gorgeous scenery.

Hell's Gate

Herds of herbivores, mostly zebra and gazelles, grazed on the fields on either side of the gravel path. The crunch of volcanic rock under my feet felt delightful. Along the way I picked up chunks of shiny obsidian to study, examine, admire, and then regretfully, return to the ground. Two hours later a gentle drizzle signaled the end of the hike.
Our evening accommodation was at Lake Naivasha, a popular recreational area a short distance from Nairobi. We stayed at Taphe Guest House, a charmless, modest place in the midst of a working class neighborhood. From our room window, looking beyond shabby backyards, we caught glimpses of Lake Naivasha. The building felt old and neglected, but our rooms were spotless, with comfortable beds and hot showers. An eagerness to please came though in the 3 course evening meal which had the flavor profile of home cooked, made from scratch. A creamy pumpkin soup was followed by a main course of rice, vegetables, chicken and beans in a curry sauce. A freshly made pineapple cake for dessert was pretty okay too.

 Aug 28 Amboseli

Of course we had to be up at dawn for another early departure. The parks are long distances apart, connected by poor roads. From Lake Naivasha we had to drive to Nairobi before merging on the main highway - a two lane paved road - heading south to Mombasa. The many sluggish trucks and other vehicles meant a stressful journey requiring frequent passing. Arriving at Amboseli we at once knew it was all worth it.

African Spoonbill

Even before we started to see the herds of elephants for which this park is famous, we were greeted within minutes by a parade of extraordinary birds. They were like the welcome committee assuring us that we were in for an unforgettable experience. A yellow-necked francolin, blacksmith lapwings, crested cranes, a spoonbill, African jacanas, and colorful bee-eaters. We were speechless at this abundance of beauty.

As we approached Amboseli Lake, which interestingly is fed by an underground spring, we saw elephants in family clusters. In the swamps and marshes elephants were immersed in mud, and others were wading in water. More elephants were scattered in the fields nearby.
But there was so much else to see.

The diverse ecosystems of this park, located at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro, supports an astounding variety of birdlife.

Greater and Lesser Flamingoes

Thousands of greater and lesser flamingoes fringed the far side of the lake and through binoculars we were able to enjoy watching them. Driving on we saw a king fisher, a hoopoe, plovers, pelicans and eagles. Predators are rare here, but we were lucky to spot some lionesses sleeping in the grass. Baboons popped up sporadically.

Late in the day, heading out of the park, we observed elephants gathering together into their herds.

A happy family

James told us a matriarch takes charge, issuing the orders. The young ones are sent into the middle and the stronger, usually male elephants position themselves around the edges when the herd gets ready to migrate to a different part of the park. Fascinating! Every evening large herds amble away from the water and head toward the open plains and acacia woodlands. The reverse occurs every morning. It was a bit disconcerting to see many safari vehicles aggressively and insensitively following herds causing disruptions and separations of herd members at road crossings. James kept shaking his head in despair.
Just outside the park we encountered an unusual sight. About 50 meters from the road, beside a cluster of acacias, we could see two enormous elephants, with long, long tusks that almost touched the ground.

The older generation ...

A third one was lying horizontally on the ground and we were sure it was dead. The other two seemed to be nudging it with their feet. Were they in mourning? Then, suddenly, the elephant rose, most effortlessly into an upright position! We had a good old chuckle on the short drive to our new accommodation.

Kibo Safari Camp, where we spent the night, was bustling and atmospheric. Unlike the intimacy of Enkorok Mara Camp, this felt like an upmarket resort and ten times larger. Overlooked by a cloud encased Mt Kilimanjaro, it had a souvenir shop, a spa, and a pool. A thatched common area for dining and lounging had attractive indoor and outdoor spaces for maximum enjoyment of the setting. Individual tent cabins had similar African décor to Enkorok Mara Camp. Dinner was an extravagant buffet spread of expertly prepared western skewed cuisine. Like the menu of a fine dining California restaurant temptingly displayed with everything available to you! We ate well and slept well and the next morning, after a feast of a breakfast, resented having to leave this sumptuous resort at sunrise!

Holiday Fire

A week has past since that awful Friday night. July 6, 2018. The fire started around 8:40 P.M. Acrid smoke blew through our sliding door screen around 8:50. Instantly, our bodies' danger signals were alerted. Our friends, Premi and Sri, and their relatives, Linda and Siven, were with us. We were seated around our dining table having just finished our dessert of apple pie which Daryl had made earlier that afternoon from our garden apples. All the windows and doors were open in a futile attempt to manage the stifling temperature. All day the thermometer had hovered in the 90's. After a cool spring and mild start to summer, this sudden spike in temperature came as a shock. It had been forecast a week earlier. Some high pressure weather system or something like that. After a day of challenging heat, the temperature rose into triple digits around 6:00 P.M. A sundowner picked up. Like a merciless hairdryer. A tension hung over us. We, in Southern California, are all too aware of what these weather conditions could signal. We're in year seven of a stubborn drought. And this past winter was particularly dry.

Around 9:50 P.M. last Friday as we finished up our slice of pie, Sri and Daryl announced the smell of smoke a second before we all became aware that a fire had broken out. Through the sliding door, straight in front of us we saw a thick cloud of smoke. Our guests departed immediately and Daryl and I raced to gather up important items. In fight or flight mode we knew to grab passports and wallets. But, with minutes to spare before our escape, what else should we rescue? Daryl shoved math papers, photos and file folders of important documents into boxes. I packed toiletries and some clothes. Before leaving the house I put away left over food and the remainder of the apple pie in the refrigerator. On our street three fire trucks were lined up at the Fairview Avenue intersection. Emergency action was in full force. I noticed our neighbor, Marsha, and her daughter, Katie, packing up their car, panic evident in their body movements.

Daryl and I had arranged to meet at the Sprouts Market parking lot a mile down the road. He appeared five minutes after me. Premi and Sri had called and offered us a bed for the night. On the Eastside of Santa Barbara we would be a long way from the fire.

Tense, stunned, we collapsed on their sofa twenty minutes later and watched KEYT's live coverage of the fire. They named it the Holiday Fire because it had started near Holiday Hill Road. The worst conditions for a fire prevailed. Houses in our neighborhood were engulfed in flames. This was a structural fire. It could have happened anywhere with these weather conditions. Our backcountry is famously prone to unrelenting fires in the dry summer season, but this was not one of those fires. By 1:00 A.M. the fire had claimed our neighbors' house. We were sure ours was next. Houses on Pine Lane and Cuesta Verde, streets just a few 100 meters from our house, had burned to the ground.

It was a bizarre moment. We were about to lose our material possessions. All the stuff we'd accumulated over the years, except for the stuff in our cars. Yes, we have insurance, and much of that, including the house, could be ours again in a newer iteration. What irreplaceable items would we miss? Around 1:30 A.M., exhausted, we fell asleep. Hours later, at 6:00 A.M. when we turned on the news Beth Farnsworth was still reporting from the fire scene. She'd been doing this all night. The flames were gone, but smoke curled up from charred remains. Twenty structures were reported to have been destroyedl. No way of knowing if our house was a victim.

Daryl suggested we drive to our neighborhood even though the mandatory evacuation order was still in effect. They wouldn't let us through, even on foot. We parked at the Montessori School on Fairview Avenue and noticed the TV crew across the street in the library parking lot. We hiked over and managed to get a ride. It was a shock to see our neighbors' house still smoldering. And then we saw our house, unharmed, utterly fine. Wow! Our relief was indescribable. Our garden though, took a beating. We grabbed hoses and doused charred, smoky patches which were in random parts of the garden. We had to be quick since it wasn't safe for us to be in the area. Power lines were downed, and explosions were possible. The TV crew interviewed me, asked about our experience. I was on live television at prime time during a disaster when the whole community was watching! The feedback I later received was pretty positive even though I don't even remember much of what I'd said.

Entering the house that morning was weird. Our empty dessert plates, water glasses, etc. were still on the dining table. Evidence of the suddenness of the event. I cleared up and washed up the dishes. We took cold showers. Grabbed fresh clothes and left. The worst was over. We knew we'd be allowed back home in the next day or so.

Now, a week later, our lives are approaching normal. It's painful to see the garden damage. Our robust naval orange tree suffered, but is sure to survive. The meyer lemon tree and almond tree are skeletons. The apple tree has some burned branches. Random clusters of shrubs and hedges are charred. But it could've been worse. And for many of our neighbors, it was.

Spain in April (April 4 - 15) - Part 2

Andalucía

Córdoba

A high speed AVE train whisked me comfortably and efficiently to Southern Spain, where at once I was immersed in the overpowering scent of citrus blossoms. Along an avenue of tangerine trees through a long park I breathed in the uplifting aromas as I headed into the medieval quarter of Córdoba. City workers were raking up the hundreds of fallen fruit, and tossing them into bins containing green waste.


Exiting the park I followed a crowd and found myself at a fortress. This was the Alcazar de los Reyes Cristianos built by Alfonso XI in 1328. It was my introduction to Mudejar architecture, a style combining Islamic and Christian elements. Apart from the Hall of Mosaics, and the marble courtyard the building underwhelmed. But stepping outside, I was captivated by the gardens. Linear and geometric arrangements of flowers, shrubs and trees were unlike anything I'd seen before. A deliberate attempt to delight all senses was evident. Inviting pathways rewarded with textures, colors, sounds and scents emanating from fountains, shallow pools, artistic topiary (hedges shaped into Greek vases), and spring blooms.

Heading into Córdoba's medieval quarter, I hiked across the ancient Roman Bridge over the Guadalquivir River to admire the cluster of monuments near the Mezquita-Catedral, the city's main attraction.

The Triunfo de San Rafael commanded close-up inspection, as did the mosaic design around the fountain in the square around it. The need for lunch propelled me into the utterly charming town center. Marching up and down narrow, cobbled lanes, I finally found a restaurant with an actual vegetarian dish from its menu of blended Italian and Spanish cuisine. The regional risotto I sampled would have been delicious had it not been over salted! Anyway, it restored my energy, and I was ready to be wowed by the famous 8th century mosque that became a cathedral in the 12th century.

The Mezquita- Catedral de Córdoba combines eras and cultures. With the original structure mostly preserved, unlike in other cities, it's a rare example of Islamic architecture in Spain.

Mosque-Cathedral, Córdoba

Entering the building is a dramatic experience due to the 850 columns supporting arches and creating a series of arcades. That heightened sense of awe remained with me as I attempted to absorb the ornate, elaborate sections of this enormous monument. Right in the middle of this mosque Christian invaders in the 16th century built a grand cathedral. The result is a marriage of Islam and Christianity.

Seville 

Every once in a while I arrive in a new city and instantly envision it as a potential future home. Sevilla felt that way. Despite an unusual April chill I felt a summer vibe when I arrived on Saturday early evening. Tapas bars served drinks al fresco; the many squares were alive with clusters of people of all ages; shoppers clogged the pedestrianized avenues; and flocks of tourists hovered around monuments. There was no doubt that I was going to love my time here.
On Sunday morning, under a deep blue sky, I stood in line for two hours to see the city's most famous monument, the Réal Alcazar. The least boring 2 hours of waiting to buy tickets I'd ever experienced! I was surrounded by breathtaking architecture. The air smelled of orange blossoms. A religious parade carrying floats and accompanied by a brass band created a bit of atmosphere. After they went off, the young couple behind me in the queue struck up a conversation with me. They were from Washington D.C., a lawyer and a Georgetown University employee, so of course there was no shortage of interesting topics to cover until we reached the gates of the palace.

The Réal Alcazar was built by Moorish workers from Granada in the 14th century for a Christian ruler. What a perfect setting for a movie, I thought, when I entered this stupendous former palace.

Réal Alcazar, Seville

Actually, I learned later that this palace was indeed used for Seasons 5 and 6 in the Game of Thrones!
Going from room to room, through arched hallways and across marble patios, I gaped and gasped and exclaimed. Moorish, Gothic, Renaissance and Mudejar architectural styles were employed to create this marvel. Even more impressive than the building were the sprawling gardens. A scaled up, more elaborate version of the one I'd seen in Córdoba. Again, geometry and symmetry produced arresting artistic designs.

Giralda Tower, Seville

Sevilla's other "must see" attraction is the largest Gothic Cathedral in Europe. It was quite the experience to see the grandness that resulted from overzealous Christians. Christopher Columbus's casket drew a thick crowd of tourists for some reason. The Giralda Tower is the only remaining part of the original mosque, Christian invaders having destroyed everything else. You go up a series of ramps, not steep staircases (!) to the top. Looking down for a bird's eye-view it was the colorful Mudejar style domes that stood out among Sevilla's mainly white buildings.

Wandering around the city is an absolute joy due to its thoughtful layout. There are wide pedestrian sidewalks and separate bicycle lanes. Heading toward the Guadalquivir River I past colorful flower beds around fountains on road islands and avenues of blossoming citrus trees. A detour into the Maria Luisa Park led me to Plaza de España. On this mild spring day street musicians and chirpy tourists livened up the square. The half circle neo Mudejar building was quite a dazzler. Especially with a moat in front of it. I crossed one of the cute bridges, entered the building, and trotted down the covered hallway. Back on the street I headed to the river and strolled along the bank. The Habanera from Bizet's Carmen rang in mind. Probably because I was seeing signs for a bullfighting ring. Nevertheless the tune mirrored my joy.

I didn't go out of my way to explore the food scene in this city. But I'd read about the Barranco Food Market overlooking the Guadalquivir River and knew I had to check it out. In this glass and iron structure (designed by Gustave Eiffel) I devoured my best tortilla (the Spanish grated potato dish) which was layered with ratatouille. A freshly made spinach empanada followed. Another winner! This market, smaller and less crowded than the one in Madrid, focused on upscale artisanal cuisine. Plus it had inviting indoor and outdoor seating with river views. Yup, I could live in Seville!

On my third and last evening I felt this sentiment again. I was at the tapas bar next door to my hotel, sipping a glass of red wine out on the heated terrace. Two male Dutch teachers were finishing up their meal at the table near mine. "Ik wil graag betalen," one of them said to the waiter. The waiter nodded and went off. I smiled at them. "He understood Dutch," I said.
They smiled back at me and one of them said, "You did too. Are you from Holland?"
And this question launched us into a lengthy and hearty conversation covering topics from Apartheid South Africa to the European Union to Nationalism to the state of American politics. They were high school history teachers on a field trip in Spain with their students. And they spoke perfect English as did most people from the Netherlands. An entertaining hour flew by. How could you not love a city that draws interesting visitors?

Ronda

El Tajo Gorge, Ronda

A two and a half hour bus journey from Sevilla to Ronda took me through picturesque mountain and pastoral scenery. I even caught a glimpse of pink flamingos by a lake on the route. Despite drizzly weather, the ride was superb. After checking in to my chíc boutique hotel, the weather turned positively foul. Heavy rain and blustery wind confined me to my hotel room most of the day. In the evening before dinner the storm dissipated and I managed to head out to the famous El Tajo Gorge. Ronda's appeal comes from its dramatic location, on either side of this deep gorge. Bathed in a post storm dying daylight, it looked like the setting of a mystery novel. From the entrance to the bridge I struggled against a gale to stay upright. After a quick couple of photos I staggered into a nearby bar to catch my breath back. The exceptional local wine from vineyards just a few miles away, and some tapas - a local version of tortilla - in a lowly lit, cosy bar restored me.

In the morning I was pleased to see a mostly blue sky. At the hotel dining room an extravagant buffet breakfast greeted me. And so a wonderful day was foreshadowed. I stuffed myself with grated tomato on toast, banana, yogurt, freshly squeezed orange juice, and strong coffee. I needed mucho calories for all the walking on my agenda for the day.
With the sun shining and the air completely calm, when I arrived at the exact same spot as the previous evening, the bridge and gorge looked utterly different. I gazed at the impressive cliff walls, vibrantly lit up by the sun. Bus loads of tourists swarmed around the Puente Nuevo Bridge snapping photos with their smartphones. I crossed the bridge and wandered through the cobbled lanes of the Old Town. Then I hiked down a trail to the bottom of the gorge and looked up to astounding views. Back up I found a trail along the balcony from where I could better appreciate the sheer cliff walls and see the gurgling river.

Ronda had a lot more to offer. Plaza del Socorro, with its Hercules fountain and attractive buildings, was another highlight here. It gave me an opportunity for a beautiful Ronda photo that had nothing to do with the gorge!

Granada

Granada is all about the Alhambra. When you aren't in the palace gawking at medieval moorish splendor, you are hiking to various viewpoints to admire it from afar. A highlight for me was the view from the Mirador de San Nicolas. Framed by the snowcapped Sierra Nevada mountains, this commanding fortress/palace stands proudly on a hill above the city. I imagined historical characters within those walls carrying out their lives of intrigue.
Since everyone who had been to the Alhambra had nothing but glowing superlatives to describe it, I had super high expectations on my visit. Nevertheless, as I walked through the Nasrid Palaces I found myself constantly gasping. Painstakingly intricate carvings and designs, and breathtaking integration of outdoor spaces featuring courtyards, fountains and gardens demonstrated how immensely creative and sophisticated the Moors had been.
My visit started in the adjacent sprawling Generalife gardens. The style, after the palace gardens I'd seen in Cordoba and Sevilla, no longer felt novel. Despite this, and despite persistent rain and wintry temperatures, the beauty, and the fastidious attention to symmetry and design, were most rewarding.

I enjoyed my non-Alhambra activities in Granada too. Strolling along the cobbled, pedestrianized Carrera del Darro beside the skinny river, I past interesting architectural sights and cute souvenir shops. I whiled away a couple of pleasant hours checking out the colossal cathedral, followed by a visit to the Alcaicería. This Great Bazaar, a bit like a Moroccan souk, was originally a silk and spice market. It felt quite exotic to weave through the narrow shopping lanes, though each vendor seemed to carry the same scarves, leather, jewelry, and other mass produced souvenirs. Granada, it has to be said, unabashedly capitalized on its tourist traffic. Paella, Flamenco dancing, and whatever else a tourist expected to find in Spain could be found here effortlessly.

My Spain trip was almost over. Back in Madrid I took a train to ...

Toledo

I spent the better part of a day in this town made famous by El Greco. Strolling through its pedestrianized heart I took in its well preserved architecture.



Its history included Roman, Jewish, Moorish and Christian occupations, and they all contributed to the city's physical appearance. I enjoyed stepping outside the city walls and down to the river for city views. It was a mild spring day and I clocked close to 15 miles in and around the city.

I averaged close to ten miles a day in my 11 days in Spain. Every city I visited was pedestrian friendly. Walking through interesting areas was rewarding and thoroughly enjoyable. And spring time is the best time.

Spain in April (April 4 - 15, 2018) - Part 1

Madrid

I arrived in Madrid at 6:15 A.M. in pitch darkness after an above average overnight flight from Johannesburg on Iberia Airlines. An express bus plopped me at Atocha train station at around 8:00 A.M. when daylight finally appeared. On my 20 minute walk alongside Retiro Park to my Airbnb accommodation I witnessed the city awakening to another normal work day. Smartly dressed locals were hurrying off to their offices, aromas of coffee and fresh baked pastries wafted out of cafés and Calle de Alfonso XII thrummed with traffic. I felt an instant rush of high as the energy of a big European city (especially on a crisp spring morning) seeped into my being.



I couldn't wait to get my bearings in this city. In the afternoon, arrival necessities dispensed with, I penetrated the pedestrianized historic quarter. From the Prado (two blocks from my Airbnb) on to Calle de las Huertas to Puente del Sol, Madrid's vibrancy sent my mood skyward. Strolling along Calle del Arenal, a bookstore with stacks of books displayed on outside tables drew my attention. Turning into the narrow cobbled lane, I discovered a long line of people waiting to be seated at the famous San Gitanes for their legendary churros with hot chocolate. Since it was 5:30 PM, hours before the acceptable time to have dinner in Spain, I yielded to temptation and partook in one of life's unmissable experiences -- pigging out on fresh, crisp churros and thick, steaming chocolate!

Fortified, I proceeded on to Plaza Mayor, Madrid's most famous square, as advertised by the swarm of tourists. Taking in the impressive burgundy three story steepled building enclosing the square, and the equestrian statue in the middle I was swept into past eras. Much of Madrid's history had occurred right here.
I needed to walk off those churro and chocolate calories and felt grateful for a blue sky and a spring chill. Exiting the square I stumbled upon the San Gabriel Mercado. Stalls displaying mouthwatering tapas, tempting drinks, and  irresistible pastries pulled in the crowds. Clearly the place to indulge in Madrid. Though how you'd place an order through a wall of people and be heard in the din was a head scratcher. Anyway, I'd already figured out a killer dinner earlier in the day.

My accommodation in an apartment on Calle Antonio Maura -- half a block from Retiro Park and close to the Prado Museum -- gave me access to a kitchen. This morning, after a shower and rest, I had gone to a grocery market where I acquired Manchego cheese, white asparagus (just in season in Europe), crusty bread rolls and blood oranges. So, after my long, long saunter, I returned to the apartment for a simple dinner of sautéed asparagus (plump and fleshy) topped with local cheese, served on a roll. Delicious! But something was missing. Wine.

Right after I swallowed the last morsel, the artist, from whom I was renting a room, and I hopped down to the tapas bar next door to the apartment building. It was on the sidewalk, sheltered by glass walls. Dusk had begun, and the lights in the nearby museum neighborhood were starting to twinkle. The perfect setting to sample a full bodied Spanish Rioja. The friendly waitress offered us free tapas of cheese sandwich rolls, but we'd already eaten big dinners. So she brought over a bowl of local green olives. Tangy and fruity, they were a delicious accompaniment to the satisfying wine, which, get this, was only €2.90 a glass! I couldn't have asked for a better first day in Spain.

Unlike Barcelona, Madrid felt more compact. Attractive architecture, graceful squares with fountains and sculpture, and a vibrant mix of locals and tourists made exploring the city endlessly entertaining. I spent three days in this city, then went down to Andalucía for six days, and returned to Madrid for my last two days in Spain.

On one of my explorations of the historic quarter I followed Rick Steves' guided walk starting at Plaza Mayor. Along Calle Mayor I paused in front of interesting buildings like the  town hall to admire its symmetrical square towers. Entering Calle de Bailén I gaped at the enormous Almudena Cathedral. When I saw the long line for entry to the Royal Palace I crossed it off my 'to do' list. The faćade was impressive enough. I proceeded to the attractive park across, the Plaza de Oriente,  strolled passed the row of statues of Visigoth kings and over to the fountain for a close up of the equestrian sculpture, the park's centerpiece.

At the Opera House I rested my weary legs at the café. Despite gloves my fingers were frozen. Churros and hot chocolate warmed me up and restored my energy. I resumed my self-guided tour. Plaza Isabel II came next, with its statue of a queen who was a patron of the arts in front of the opera house. Entering Calle del Arenal at 6:00 PM I merged with the hordes of people on their evening paseo. The shops lining this wide, pedestrianized avenue buzzed with shoppers. I darted into El Corte Ingles, took the escalators to the rooftop cafe for a view of Puerta del Sol. This bustling heart of Madrid projected its character. I felt thrilled to be here. Not only because of the city's physical beauty and energy, but also because of its outstanding museums.


At the Prado Museum the room of major paintings by Hieronymus Bosch hogged an hour (and could easily have gulped more). The much hyped triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights was almost impossible to see through a perpetual wall of tourists. Fortunately, Bosch's other triptych, The Hay Wain, was inexplicably ignored. I was able to linger in front of it and study the colorful, dense imagery depicting morality in scary ways. It took effort to tear myself away from this room of extraordinary paintings. Following Rick Steves self-guided tour I trotted over to the various halls challenging my brain with the great works of Velásquez, Rubens, El Greco, Goya, and other famous masters. Hours later, when I stepped out into the early afternoon chill, that unanswerable question returned to my head as it did every time I visited a huge museum. How are you supposed to appreciate and assimilate such an impossibly large number of rich paintings?

Madrid's other famous museums were lightweights, with instantly pleasing works by the Surrealists, the Cubists, and the Impressionists. Arriving at the Reina Sofia at opening time allowed me to ponder over Picasso's Guernica in a quiet room. Yes, we've all seen this painting in books and on T-shirts, etc. But gazing at the actual mural, the impact felt visceral. Surely every politician and soldier should be mandated to study this painting to see the agony, the heart wrenching pain caused by wars. My sombre mood was quickly elevated by the many Salvador Dali paintings. Works by Miró, Juan Gris, Braque, and Kandinsky made for a joyful wander around this museum. The zeitgeist of 20th century Dada-ism was enhanced by Buñuel movies playing in nearby rooms to match the works.

At the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, which houses a collection purchased from a baron, I saw some painting by practically every famous European artist I'd ever heard of. The decent number of Impressionists and Post-impressionists were especially satisfying. There was a special Joaquín Sorollo exhibition, exposing me to a new artist and challenging me to appreciate portraits of boring people from the past.

Three excellent museums in three days put me in a state of euphoria. It turned the delightful act of sipping a glass of full-bodied Rioja on the terrace of Ramses Madrid at Plaza Independencia almost spiritual. Seated at their heated terrace, with a view of Puerta Alcalá, and a pleasant vibe from spirited, elegantly attired locals at nearby tables, I was grateful to be shielded from harsh realities. A young suited waiter brought me warm, seeded bread rolls, a bowl of olives, and cubes of Manchego cheese drizzled with olive oil. I ordered a roasted beet salad to complement these free tapas. My full dinner at the ungodly hour of 8:00! And what a satisfying meal it was! A jewel in a city full of jewels.


My high opinion of the city was reinforced a week later, after I'd returned from six days in Andalucía. I was strolling through magnificent Retiro Park on a beautiful, spring Saturday. Most of Madrid appeared to be at this park, engaged in a host of activities -- rowing boats on the lake, snacking and sipping beer at the cafés, French kissing, snapping photos, jogging, playing music, sitting on benches, people watching, walking. I spent hours sauntering along trails that took me through landscaped and natural vegetation, pausing to admire the sculpture and fountains. When I came to the huge lake and gazed at the semicircular colonnade bordering it, I thought it would be this image that would linger in my mind as I bid this city adios the next day.

My GVI Experience as a Volunteer - Part 2

I really wanted to love my experience with GVI (Global Vision International). The idea of doing volunteer work in exotic locations, helping vulnerable communities sounds so rewarding. However, my disappointment with the organization began as soon as I entered the house in which I'd be residing for two weeks. Lizzie from Scotland, 24 years old, and in training to be a GVI manager, had just fetched me and two other volunteers, Caroline and Lottie, from the Cape Town airport. It was a delightful midsummer January afternoon and all three of us were animated on the 45 minute drive to Gordon's Bay. But as soon as I stepped into the townhouse in the gated complex called Journey's End, my spirits plummeted. Though upmarket, with modern finishes like granite kitchen counters and porcelain tiled floors, it was the unbelievable shabbiness and lack of cleanliness that shocked me. Dirty, cluttered kitchen counters, unswept, grimy floors, unwashed dishes, filthy tea towels hanging limply on the stove handle, and upstairs, the dingy carpet was caked with dirt.

Lizzie showed 53 year old Caroline from London and me to an untidy room furnished with three bunkbeds. "This is your bed," she said to me, pointing to a top bunk bed. "And that one's yours," she said to Caroline as she pointed to the top bunk against the opposite wall.
Too shocked to speak, I just observed.
"And who else sleeps in this room?" asked Caroline, unsmiling, taut-faced.
"Zach, a 20 year old from the US, and Lesley Ann, a 19 year old. She's local and is with her family for the weekend."
My heart pounded with fury. I looked up at Lizzie, and said, "I committed to this program only after getting the assurance that I would have only one roommate, close to my age. I am not going to sleep in this room."
She shrugged. "I'm new here. I just started 2 months ago. The manager, Tilda, is away in Sweden and will only be returning on Tuesday. There is nowhere else for you to sleep since we are dealing with bed bugs in Mont Blanc, our other accommodation."
Caroline and I stared at her with dropped jaws. Bedbugs? Lizzie's face was expressionless.
When we stepped out of the room I glanced at the other two bedrooms upstairs. "That's Tilda's room," Lizzie said, pointing to one. "And this is mine."

She turned to go. "I'll give you a few minutes to settle in and then we'll go to Mont Blanc to go over some rules."

When I checked out the two bathrooms I was horrified at the stained toilet seats and filthy shower stall littered with shampoo and soap bottles. Toothpaste bits decorated the wash basins. Used towels were hanging everywhere. In the downstairs living room the hideous sofas looked like they were fished out of a township dump. Christ! I paid over $2,200 for this??

Most of the volunteers and staff resided in a neighboring gated community called Mont Blanc. GVI occupies three adjacent apartments and this was where all joint activities took place. Lizzie showed us the common areas including the kitchen furnished with a long table around which everyone sat every evening for the evening meal. If the state of Journey's End shocked me, well, Mont Blanc was in a different league.

Lottie, a 22 year old from Nebraska, who had arrived from the airport with me, had been dropped off at Mont Blanc earlier. After Lizzie was done explaining the house rules and daily schedule to us 3 newcomers, Lottie went up to her and demanded to be moved to Journey's End. She was not going to sleep with bed bugs. So Lottie joined Caroline and me at Journey's End.

In the evening the three of us new comers strolled out to the harbor, a pleasant 15 minute walk. It was a perfect summer day, warm, with just a slight breeze, and the sun in no hurry to disappear. We were all equally shattered by the shabbiness of the residences and desperate for some cheering up. The scenic harbor, framed by dramatic mountains boosted our moods. At an Italian waterfront restaurant, Antonio's, we ordered wood fired pizza and chilled local Chenin Blanc. Seated on their lively deck, with a breathtaking view of the water, especially as the sun began to sink into the water around 8 o'clock, our problems receded into the background.

One of the great benefits of participating in an international volunteer program is the opportunity to create new friendships with people from far and wide. Each of us chatted about our lives, and it was fun and interesting. As darkness fell, the delightful sounds of live 70's music led us to a cocktail bar. Sipping after dinner cocktails we chatted with friendly locals, while listening to two very talented musicians singing familiar oldies. For a small town, Gordon's Bay had an impressive night scene.

When we returned to Journey's End around 10:00 I had to confront my sleeping dilemma. What were my options? I decided to pull my mattress and bedding into Tilda's room. Since she would be returning on Tuesday I would have a private space for these first few nights. I now felt feverish with a mild headache. A good night's sleep just might prevent the onset of flu.

In the morning my first thoughts were about getting out of this program. I couldn't possibly stomach living in this environment for two weeks. But I didn't want to lose the money I'd paid. Over coffee I read through the fine print of the travel insurance. My only way out was to claim illness. I didn't want to go that route, even though I was already experiencing flu symptoms.
I had to somehow make this work.
After a breakfast of poached eggs on toast, Caroline, Lottie and I decided to shoot over to Pick 'n Pay, which was just down the road, a five minute walk, to purchase cleaning products, as well as some decent food items, like mangoes, bananas, and cereal. We spent all morning cleaning up the house and succeeded in creating a tolerable living space. However, there was still the issue of my sleeping situation.

I sent an email to the top person in the Cape Town head office, Richard Wilkes. I mentioned that I was promised a bedroom that I would share with only only one other person, close to my age. I also mentioned the unacceptable lack of cleanliness and hygiene at the residences.

On Sunday afternoon we met up with Lizzie for workshop training at Mont Blanc. It soon became clear that all the volunteers, with the exception of Caroline and myself, were between the ages of 18 and 24. They mostly came from Europe and the USA and seemed happy with the program. The lack of cleanliness and tidiness at these residences didn't faze them! The hired daily help had been off for Christmas holidays, and pretty much for an entire month nobody cared about sweeping, mopping, or cleaning bathrooms. Even the bedbugs didn't bother these youngsters. They were in "Africa", here to work in a poor township. This was the third world. They had arrived with low expectations. In fact, they were amazed that they were in a modern building with proper electricity and plumbing and could take hot showers everyday! As for the cost of the program, they were clueless. Their parents were in charge of their expenses.

My flu got progressively worse on Sunday. I longed for a clean, comfortable bed with fresh sheets. My mattress was so battered it sank all the way to the floor when I slept on it. I took a painkiller which helped reduce my fever. I was able to sleep through most of the night. The next morning, Monday morning, my fever returned and my voice more or less disappeared. I didn't want to miss my first day at the project so I took an Advil and got ready for a full day.

A minibus transported all the volunteers to the three project venues. We left behind the sanitized white world of Gordon's Bay with its swanky gated communities lining wide well maintained roads. On the outskirts litter strewn fields along the highway signaled our approach into the developing world. Overweight Xhosa women could be seen walking in the baking heat toward the city. Young black men at intersections urged drivers to buy their cheap gadgets. We drove past this tableau and fifteen minutes later we entered Nomzamo township. Produce stalls, street vendors, shacks, trash, narrow lanes, open gutters, the smell of meat cooking on open fires. Interspersed among this chaos attractive buildings and houses stood out defiantly.

Since I was in the Women's Empowerment program I worked at the Nomzamo Community Center in the morning. In the afternoon we merged with all the other GVI staff and volunteers at the Strand library. This was the pattern for the first of my two weeks. I've described my work days in detail in my previous post.

At Journey's End on Monday afternoon, my third day, I met the house cleaner, Winnie, who had just returned from a month's vacation. She was painstakingly heaving her way down the staircase. She appeared to be in her late 50's, seriously overweight and in terrible physical shape. How could she be expected to clean up all of the GVI residences and prepare the evening meal for over 20 people too? If I had thought the filthy state of the residences was due to Winnie's absence and therefore temporary, I just realized that I was dead wrong!

I had to move out. Especially since Tilda would be returning the next day. I found an Airbnb for $54.00 a night a mile from Mont Blanc. I emailed Richard Wilkes again and explained my reasons for moving out. Firstly, GVI did not deliver on their promise regarding my sleeping arrangement. Secondly, I couldn't tolerate the squalor. I requested pick up and drop off from my accommodation.

On Tuesday morning I told Lizzie I was moving out that afternoon. She smiled in relief. We discussed logistics. I expressed an interest in joining the group for evening meals. "When Tilda returns, maybe we can figure out a way to get me back home after dinner."
Her response was, "In this program you are meant to be staying here. We can't be expected to be a meal delivery service."
I calmly responded that I wasn't asking for my meals to be be delivered. I would happily take care of my own meals if I couldn't work out a plan to join the group.

Richard Wilkes responded to my email later that day. He apologized for the situation and agreed to take care of all my transportion. He also scheduled a meeting with me and Tilda later that day.

Before the meeting on that Tuesday I had another rude encounter from a GVI staff member. At the Strand library where we all helped out with the summer program, when everyone went outside with the kids, I stayed inside. I was quite sick with flu, had essentially lost my voice, and badly needed to rest after my morning exertion at Women's Empowerment. Lesley Ann, 19 years old, with the absurd responsibility of running this summer program, marched into the library. In a surprisingly rude tone she told me I was needed outside. (Bullshit, of course, given the adult to kid ratio of 1 to 3). I said I had the flu and I wasn't going outside. What I didn't say was I had not signed up for this children's program. And that I wouldn't choose a job that I paid to do which guaranteed I would get migraines.
She repeated that she needed me outside. This unprofessional behavior was most bizarre. I repeated that I wasn't going outside.
"Then why didn't you ask to go straight back to the house?" she demanded.
I shrugged and said, "I didn't know that was an option."
She got on the phone and tried to call Lizzie, but Lizzie didn't answer. Lesley Ann heaved an annoyed sigh. I said, "Look, I'm fine resting here until the van comes for us. You are the one having a problem with it." She nodded, mumbled, ok, and left.

I sat down, stunned. After a few minutes I realized that Lesley Ann was just a kid entrusted with too much responsibility. She needed guidance. As did all the young staff members. Too many of them I observed, looked for ways to shirk their duties and palm them off onto the short term volunteers. The lack of adult supervision was a real problem.

After project I met up with Tilda and Richard in the room used as an office in Mont Blanc. Finally, for the first time since my arrival in Gordon's Bay, I'd be talking to adults in the program! They listened attentively as I told them my entire story. They were both clearly on the defensive, ready to be accommodating. They agreed that the cleanliness issue had to be addressed. They insisted that GVI had misled me and should have informed me that sleeping was dorm room style bunk beds. Tilda would drive me back to my Airbnb after dinner every evening in the GVI vehicle that she had been allocated. They tried to defend the bed bugs situation claiming it had absolutely nothing to do with cleanliness. They had done everything they could, and were continuing to address it. Before the meeting ended Tilda offered to have me share Lizzie's room. I said I'd think about it.

At my Airbnb that evening I reveled in the luxury of a spacious bedroom with large windows and stunning mountain views. A king size bed with crisp sheets, lots of cupboard space, and a shiny, squeaky clean bathroom. Finally I could rest properly and try to fight off my flu. That's all I cared about for the first few nights there.
However, later in the week the isolation got to me. I was warned not to walk in the neighborhood, and during my free time to get anywhere I'd need to order an uber ride. The Pick 'n Pay and harbor areas were no longer just a quick walk down the road.
So after a week at the Airbnb, I returned to Journey's End for my last 4 nights in Lizzie's room. Since she spent her nights with her boyfriend, I actually had the room to myself.

My two weeks with GVI were undoubtedly educational. Working daily in the heart of a township and interacting closely with locals allowed me to experience the warmth and friendliness of the Xhosa culture, and to witness their optimism and drive. Despite my skepticism of the effectiveness of GVI projects, I cannot deny how enriching it must be for western youngsters. Surely their life decisions and world outlook must be impacted by having come face to face with impoverished communities.

So, all in all, it was a mixed bag.