Chobe National Park

Posted on February 24, 2013 by hilarylust

After the rest of our group visited the falls, we headed over to Botswana for a whirlwind tour of Chobe National Park. By noon we were already on the river.
The Chobe river separates Botswana and Namibia (Yes, I needed a second look at a map to figure out why Namibia stretched that far east), and we cruised down the border line for a good couple hours.
Our boat driver, Cherry, was this super smiley Setswanan man who was very excited to point out all the animals in the national park. And it wasn’t long before we came across a herd of elephants playing right along side us in the river.
There weren’t a huge variety of animals in the river, but we saw lots of elephants, crocodiles, buffalo and hippos. We managed to pull up right next to one herd of hippos, bathing in the river, that actually swam up and hit our boat from beneath so as to mark their territory. Attacked by a hippo: check!
The boys, who are not following us for the second half of the tour, spent a significant amount of time trying to “reach Namibia”. Although Vin Diesel wasn’t there this time to “officially” mark it on their passports, Nick still claims that throwing chunks of ice at the country counts as being there. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Nick.
Immediately after the river tour, we hopped on an open-aired truck and began our game drive through the National Park. Chobe National Park is home to between 65 and 70 thousand elephants… And believe me, we saw A LOT of them. In herds, alone, old ones, young ones, they were everywhere! If you want to see an elephant in Africa, Chobe is the place.
There were lots of different animals in the park by late afternoon. We came across herds of impalas, a bunch of warthogs, buffalo, bird species, and giraffes. At the end of our game drive we stumbled upon six giraffes coupled in twos. They were amazing to watch. The couples fought each other, then looked as if they were dancing together, and then just stood with their necks against each other in a strange, but loving, giraffe embrace.
That night, we slept out in the wild. Our camp was already nicely set up for us when we arrived at dinnertime. Two ATC groups were staying in the same area and we all got the rules for the evening as we sat around the camp fire. Pretty much the same lecture as the Serengeti: go to the bathroom in groups, stay quiet and keep your tent dark, watch out for wild animals, and if you run into a lion or an elephant, don’t scream!
We did pretty much everything against the book that night. We sat in our tents, laughing at stories well into the evening, torches on, eating chocolate… So obedient. Outside our tent we could hear the trumpeting of elephants and rustling of trees. We were definitely out in the wilderness! Kelsi even said, as she was brushing her teeth in the dark the next morning, she could see literally hundreds of eyes in the bushes around her just staring back. As we started our morning game drive it was clear that this was probably the massive herd of impalas we ran across just seconds outside our camp.
During our entire morning drive we never saw a single elephant. From seeing hundreds of them the evening before, these 70 thousand elephants are clearly excellent at playing hide and seek. We did however come across two large male lions just a minute or so outside our campground. We parked the truck and waited around for ages just watching the two of them lounge in the morning sun. Finally, one got up and we tried to follow it down the road. We soon got distracted by a pack of blue balled baboons and had to start taking photos. The tiny babies were clinging, like Sarah in a motorbike accident, to their mothers’ stomachs; they were adorable!
Then out if nowhere, we saw the lion again, running along side the road. It was being chased away by a full grown buffalo! We started up the jeep and followed the chase as they sped down a small ravine parallel to the road. All of a sudden, the lion sprung up through the trees and onto the road in front of us. We quickly stopped the truck and sat there, in the open air, in a standoff with the lion. The driver shut off the engine, and Sandy jumped on the roof of the truck for a better photo op. For a moment the lion just stared at us; we were all silent. Then, for some reason, perhaps he recognized a human shape on the roof, the lion began to charge at the truck. It took a few bounds toward us, and let out a huge roar, shaking its head. Then just as quickly, it turned and ran back into the brush. It was the most incredible photo taking opportunity we were ever going to get on an African safari! It was exactly what so many of us were silently wishing would happen during the trip. But what does one do when a full grown, male lion charges at your truck, with nothing between you and it except for the open air? You freeze. Many people screamed, jumped the other direction, Sandy nearly flew off the roof, but no one, not a single person in the truck thought, “hmm, I’m going to get a photo of this”. Such a fail. Oh well, attacked by a lion: check!
And yet, amazingly, it seems like the dung beetle may have won “favourite moment of the day” award. We spent a good five minutes watching a dung beetle, on the road, rolling a piece of poo three times its size, up a hill. It was strangely incredible. Even plants didn’t get in the way of that little guy!
Our stay in Botswana was definitely short, but we had only one day left before the first half of our tour was over. Kelsi and I would be returning to Botswana in three days, but before then we were off to Zimbabwe for more Victoria Falls action.

The Devil’s Pool

Posted on February 24, 2013 by hilarylust

From Malawi, we drove into Zambia. Zambia is a scarcely populated, and a much poorer country than the others we have come across. 40% of the country is unemployed, and 35% are infected with AIDS. The lack of wealth is hugely evident as you drive through the countryside. Homes are small, and built of mud and scraps. Although this kind of lifestyle was found in other places, normally mud huts would mean a Masai village. In Zambia, everyone lives like this.
Most of our time in Zambia was spent driving. We drove all day, stopped at a campsite, had dinner, a drink at the bar or a swim in the pool, head to bed, then wake up and do it again. Our second evening we watched the qualifying game for the African Cup quarter finals, but sadly Zambia lost in a game with no score. Then we played some locals at a few games of pool, and finally off to bed again.
It was our third day that we finally got back into activities. Our final night in Zambia was in a town called Livingstone. Livingstone was named after David Livingstone, the man that discovered Victoria Falls (or Mosi Au Tunya in the native tongue). The falls border between Zambia and Zimbabwe and are the longest in the world. Even from our campsite, we could hear the crashing of the falls just a short 5 minutes away.
When we arrived at the campsite just after lunch, we went to see about tours to the Devil’s Pool.
The Devil’s Pool is insane. It is where tourists get to go and swim right at the edge of the falls. Nothing but a small rope divides the edge of the falls and us swimming. We were not about to pass up this opportunity.
Unfortunately we had some problems booking the tour. The Devil’s pool and Livingstone island is owned by one company and one company only. They have a monopoly on the area, and can charge whatever and bring whomever they’d like to the falls. There are no competing tours or prices. The company has decided to limit the number of tours to four or five a day, and have a 16 person limit on each tour. This is PERFECT if you are just a couple people. The falls are quiet, it feels very un-touristy and you get more one-on-one time with the guide. It’s also probably a hell of a lot safer. I can’t imagine trying to keep my eyes on a couple hundred tourists teetering on the edge of a precipice. For our group, however, it was cutthroat. There were only 8 spaces left on the tour when we arrived; 14 of us were hoping to go. After a few backed out, we had 10 people who were 100% set on going. The lady at the booking office said there was no way two extra people could join the tour. We had to chose among ourselves who was going, and the last tour of the day left in 3 minutes. It was heartbreaking, but we fairly chose two names out of a hat to make our decision. Kelsi and Sandy’s names were pulled. The rest of us had to load up into the van immediately and head out. It really put a damper on the beginning of the tour.
It was a quick five minute drive to the starting point: a five star resort right on the river’s edge. From the hotel you could see the spray from the falls just a little ways away. From the resort we hopped into a little speed boat and made our way to Livingstone Island.
From Livingstone you are practically on the edge of the falls. It is just a small, forested island just a few steps away from the cliff edge. At this time of year, the waters are high. That means the falls are flowing fast and hard; right now, the actual Devil’s Pool is closed for swimming (and once we saw the tonnes of water rushing over the edge we could see why. No one could survive that). Luckily, there are equally as exciting ponds right next to the Devil’s Pool that are swimmable.
When we all had changed into our swim suits, we started walking towards the first pool. Our guide walked us out into the pool, one at a time, until we were all inside. We were literally on the edge of the world. A thin rope, sitting in the water, was the ONLY thing that separated us from certain death.
I was surprised at how strong the current was going over the edge. (Less surprised than I was shocked that anyone would let tourists swim in such a strong current). I found myself having to hold on to rocks beside me so that I wouldn’t be swept over the edge; a couple of us girls nearly lost our bikini bottoms as well. But as unnerving as it was, it was incredible to sit on top of the falls. The falls let off such a spray that there is a rainbow that can be seen to your left at all times in the water (could this get any more picturesque?).
From that pool we all moved into the next pond aptly named “The Washing Machine”. The current whirled around so strong that there were bubbles in the water. We could only go into this pool one person at a time, and pretty much had to hold onto the guide the entire time. Then finally, our last pool was a short walk towards Devil’s Pool. From here you could easily see the tumultuous waters flowing over the devil’s pond. Nick and I looked at each other and both agreed that we were happy they closed the pool during this time of year. Instead, we swam in the one just a few dozen meters away.
There was no rope at this pool. Just the edge. We got to take some photos standing on the very edge of the falls, looking over. It was nerve racking and so much fun all at the same time.
When we’d had our full of the waterfall, we went back to Livingstone Island for high tea. The staff had laid out a wonderful meal of mini roast beef sliders, chicken curry and vegetable pastries and brownies for dessert. Also available was a free bar! We had a beer each and took some wine home with us as an “I feel guilty, but here is some delicious wine we stole” for Kels and Sandy.
Tea was served under a white canopy with linen table cloths and several too many forks and knives at each place setting. I felt very five star sitting there in my wet bikini. We met two hilarious old ladies from the States who left their husbands at home to travel around Africa together. They were our entertainment for the evening for sure. After chatting with them for a while, it was time to head home. We packed up our gear and moved from five star resort to camp grounds in a matter of minutes.
When we arrived we found out that there was an opportunity to do the early morning breakfast tour for those that had missed out on high tea. I was so excited to hear that Kelsi got to visit the falls as well! (And she had an equally amazing time). So far, Victoria falls has not disappointed!

(Thank you Nick, for the photos)

Kande Beach

Posted on February 19, 2013 by hilarylust

The day after the party, we woke up early and hit the road. It was just a few hours in the truck to our second stop along the lake: Kande Beach.
Today was Australia Day, and considering about 80% of our group is Australian, this was a big day. We stopped in town for all the essentials: fruit, snacks, the strangest outfits we could find at the market, and a stupid amount of alcohol.
For the afternoon we planned to make a punch bowl that filled our group sized cooler box. We cut up fruit, poured in a couple boxes of juice, and topped up the rest with 10 bottles of booze. It was potent. Then we each picked names from a hat. Whosever name we drew, we had to give that person our wacky outfit for the evening. We began the festivities at 3:00 with a game of Kings and when the cooler was sucked dry by dinner time, we continued at the campsite’s bar until things got messy.
Kande Beach has a beautiful campground. In celebration of Australia Day, many of us upgraded from tents to chalets right on the beach. It was a great treat for $8. The chalets were spacious, had electricity, a gorgeous view of the lake, and most importantly, comfortable beds!
Our full day at Kande beach was pretty laid back. We spent the morning playing rounds of pool, ate way too much food at the camp’s café, and rented a paddle boat to check out Kande Island.
Although it sprinkled in the morning, by 2:00 it was nice enough to head out on the open lake! A few people in our group took a speedboat out to the island to snorkel. Kelsi, Nick, Sandy and I followed much slower in our four man paddle boat.
The island was pretty small, taking us about a half hour or so to climb the rocks all the way around the outer edge. We found some big rocks for the boys to go cliff jumping off. Nick had a pirate cape that he refused to take off during the entire island excursion. He looked like some flying super hero as he dove head first off the cliff, with the pirate flag flying out behind him.
Sandy and I spent time stalking Luke as he snorkeled around the back of the island. We must have spent a good 20 minutes following him sneakily around the rocks. we ducked behind rocks and hid in crevasses each time he came up for air, then eventually, Sandy found a place to dive in and scare the daylight out of him. Ahh the little things that keep us amused.
After a while Kelsi and I swam back to the paddle boat while Sandy, Nick, Luke and Robbo all went snorkeling. Then finally we started our trek back to land to dry off.
That evening was very laid back. After dinner, I bought a local game called Bao off a young guy called “Brown Bread” a few of us played a few rounds at the bar, then I’m pretty sure we were all headed to bed by 8:30: our last and final night in Malawi!

Malawi Wedding

Posted on February 17, 2013 by hilarylust

There are no two people in the world more upset about being called a couple than Kelsi and Nick. The ongoing joke that they belong together, despite their constant and tireless bickering, made them so unusually angry that it spurred the rest of us to continue with the teasing. And so, the group got together and did the only rational thing we could think of: plan their wedding.
The afternoon after the witch doctor was free time, or, the perfect excuse to have a bucks and hens night before the Australia Day wedding the following night. In reality, this was just a fantastic excuse to separate the boys from the girls and have a crazy night of bonding and partying.
So the boys met a local guy named Vin Diesel, packed up a cooler of cold beers, jumped in a sketchy wooden boat, and went fishing for the afternoon.
Kelsi and I, both still oblivious that the other girls were actually planning a hen party, went to the market to shop. As we arrived back at the campsite, we spotted the girls huddled in one corner of the bar; they stopped, mid-motion, to look at us. Then, with wicked smirks, they pulled out a toilet paper veil from behind their backs and attacked Kelsi. The festivities had begun! A paper veil, a bottle of cheap gin, a plethora of hen’s night games and a fully stocked bar… We had quite the afternoon ahead of us.
It was the first time on the trip that couples had been separated, and it was an amazing way to get to know the girls all as individuals. We laughed, swapped stories, and drank a lot of shots well into the evening. I didn’t realize until it was too late that I was on food prep duty for dinner. I spent more time focused on not chopping my hand off for a half an hour than what I was actually making for dinner. In the end, most of us didn’t really remember eating dinner anyways.
We were well into the activities by the time the boys arrived back home. Kelsi wore a full toilet paper gown, with a veil and a bouquet. We’d had quizzes, sketching competitions and more than enough booze to go around.
The boys showed up in a similar state. Nick’s fear of the wedding spurred them to try to flee in their little boat to Mozambique! The beers were gone, the boat had sunk, they lost some poor local man’s catch of the day, and wound up with a mangled dead chameleon in their shirt pocket: with one arm twisted behind his head and an eye dangling out of its socket, “Cam” was a sight for sore eyes. The last thing I remember is the four boys, sitting at the bar, while Vin Diesel signed their passports to say they had successfully entered Mozambique (If it’s signed”Vinny D” then it’s totally legit). Looks like their evening was equally as tame…

The Witch Doctor of Malawi

Posted on February 16, 2013 by hilarylust

Malawi is, surprisingly, the most densely populated country in Africa. This feat is even more impressive when you take into account that Lake Malawi, at 29600 square kilometers, takes up about 50% of the country’s land mass. The lake separates the border between Malawi and Mozambique, and looks more like an ocean than a lake when you see it.
Our first campsite had a bar that had a stunning view of the lake. Although we were warned that the lake has both bad parasites and many fresh water crocodiles in it, that didn’t stop Kelsi and I from jumping in the water first thing in the morning the day we arrived (Although that victory was short lived when Kelsi had something brush by her leg, then saw bubbles, and the two of us came running out of the lake screaming as the woo girls hysterically laughed at us safely from shore).
On our first morning in Malawi we went to see the witch doctor. It was about a 20 minute walk through the village to get to his quaint little home. We sat out on some bamboo mats in his backyard and waited for his arrival. While we waited we were swarmed by locals. Young boys from the market came down to chat us up and sell their wares.
“Hello, my name is Vegemite. Would you like to buy some bracelets?”
“Hello, I’m John. I would like you to buy my wooden bottle openers”
Once again, most of the boys had strange nicknames that made it easier for tourists to remember them. They were nice guys, but refused to leave you alone without a purchase. We promised to check out their market stalls after the witch doctor meeting.
Then came the little kids. They were there for the entertainment; they obviously had so much fun clapping along to the witch doctor’s dance. They also loved meeting all the crazy muzungus. They grabbed at our sunglasses, tried to take hair elastics and shrieked with excitement when they saw a photo of themselves on our cameras. They were ADORABLE! I gave one little girl a hair elastic that was around my wrist and then realized I didn’t have 20 more to give to the other children.
The mood changed when the witch doctor arrived. He wore a red, dress-like outfit with a huge belt and anklets made of metal (maybe shell?) pieces that rattled when he walked. His hair stuck straight up out of his head band, he had a whistle in his mouth and a piece of burning log in his hand.
Bongo drummers began in the background, the kids in the audience clapped and the witch doctor began this strange shaky dance, combined with a few rhythmic blows on his whistle. He called up a couple of us that were watching to join him (I’d had enough of joining in local dances and so was glad I was passed). When everyone sat down again he continued to dance, but this time gave up the whistle. Instead he took a bite right out of the burning coals on the log he was holding. Omg. I didn’t even realize at first that’s what he’d done… Then he took another bite: the hot coals charring the sides of his mouth and lips black. All the while he danced and looked people intensely in the eyes as he went around the circle. It was eerie and amazing. Then, in just a short couple minutes, it was over and we were all left with this slightly uneasy feeling.
After the dance, he passed out potions: healing potions, love potions, hangover remedies, and all sorts of things in old resealed water bottles. We each got to smell them and pass them on to the next person as his translator described each potion to us.
When that was all over, we went one by one into his home and had our fortunes told. His home was very basic. The room we walked into was just mud walls, and a few low chairs on the floor. The witch doctor held your hand, looked you in the eyes and told you about your future, while the translator explained it all in English. For many people it was a broad “you will have a good trip, get married one day and have three children” and for others their predictions were much more detailed. Emily was a little more than disappointed that her boyfriend Robbo was predicted to have different children than her, but I think it’ll be okay for them in the end.
When everyone had their future’s told, we walked back to camp. Some of the children walked with us and ended up in peals of laughter as two of us held their hands and swung them all the way home between us (a favourite game of mine as a child).
Even though it was only a short couple hours, it was really neat to see the medicine man and healer of the people in Malawi. The witch doctor was definitely a Malawian experience not to be missed.

Trouble in Iringa

Posted on February 15, 2013 by hilarylust

Iringa

When we left Dar Es Salaam for the second time, we picked up more people to join our tour. We also had two long days of driving ahead of us to reach Malawi. We started early in the morning and prepared ourselves for the long trek to Iringa (our overnight stop before Malawi).
It’s amazing the things you can and cannot accomplish during a 14 hour drive. There are always creative ways of passing the time: short cat naps, reading, eating, staring blankly out the window, rounds of card games like UNO and Asshole. Sandy even taught us all how to crochet beanies and I made almost a full pink one before I ran out of yarn. Which was okay, because it gave a place for my ponytail to stick through. Surprisingly, my little toque turned out alright, and it was a wonderfully relaxing way to pass a couple hours.
Mostly, the long bus rides are filled with finding unique and comfortable ways to sleep. Upright, head on the table, on the floor, unconscious on the person next to you, or some very unusual positions that Emily devised.
Our drive to Iringa was painful. A couple hours stopped in morning rush hour getting out of Dar, a broken truck and 500km on a mediocre highway. In the end though, we pulled up to our lovely little campsite and set up our tents.
The campsite had two very adorable bars at it. One was a candlelit mud building that had mini fireplaces scattered between low cushioned couches. The other was a large circular bamboo hut with large hay stacks for lounging on. After dinner, we sat around a fire pit outside the hay bar drinking beers and telling stories. Bedtime was pretty early at midnight, and wake up call seemed to come too fast.
At 4:30am most of us were woken by the rattling of our truck. HOW is it morning already?! Duncan, our cook, was probably getting organized for our breakfast, but my alarm wasn’t set until quarter past 5 so I wasn’t about to budge. I rolled over and snuggled back into my sleeping bag until my terrible iPhone alarm went off 45 minutes later.
By the time I dragged my sorry ass to breakfast, I could tell something was wrong. Worried, quiet faces surrounded the truck and our guide was yelling at a security guard. The truck had been broken into.
Three girls had their expensive cameras stolen, our guide’s wallet had been ransacked, and the big safe, which held all our local payments, and a total of over $16000US dollars had two of it’s three locks broken. Thank god. The men must have left in a hurry; their crowbar and tools had been left behind haphazardly on the table, not everyone’s things had been stolen, and the campsite’s cat had been killed…
We waited for hours for the police to come. And with the police, the entire town of Iringa came by to see what had happened. The older couple that owned the campsite was there too. They looked devastated. Three weeks earlier there had been another robbery and a man was shot. To fix the problem, they hired more armed security guards. There were about 7 armed guards the night we were there and our truck was the only thing to look after. This was the campsite’s last chance. When the word got out that our truck had been robbed, the rest of the tour groups going through Iringa passed it. The camp would be shut down after us, and all the time and money the couple had put into the campsite would be useless. It was kind of sad.
We were now two hours behind schedule on our 450km drive for the day. When we finally started moving, it was only to head down the highway to the police station to fill out more reports.
It was amazing that the process took so long. Robberies in African campsites seems to be fairly common. A couple people on our tour, who had started earlier in Uganda, had their tents ransacked by some armed men. Everyone was asleep inside their tents, when the men came around, unzipping the front door, reaching in, and stealing all their valuables. One girl woke up to the sound of someone moving around, and saw a man standing over her. She screamed until the rest of the campsite woke up and the men ran off.
Another hour at the police station and we finally hit the long road to the Malawi border. It was a late arrival that night, but we set up our tents and prepared for a two nights stay in one location (a luxury for sure).

Zanzibar: Rastas in the East

Posted on February 15, 2013 by hilarylust

The next morning, 8 of us split off from the tour group and spent three days on the East coast of Zanzibar. Nick and Sandy were good enough to do some research and book us all into a little backpacker hostel called Mustafas.
The place was wicked. A super laid back Rastafarian joint that had quaint little bungalows, sandy paths, a huge fire pit and a bar/restaurant for everyone to relax at. The bar had a constant stream of Bob Marley tracks blasting out into the courtyard, and a steady supply of semi-cold Kilimanjaros (our favourite beer here). The locals who worked and hung out there each introduced themselves by their strange nicknames: Shaggy Dog, Scooby Doo, Slim Shabby, and the such. They spent most of the day smoking hash, lounging about, and serving us food and drinks as we needed. Life is sweet.
On our first afternoon, we walked the half block to the beach for a swim. The tide was way out, so mostly we just trudged through clay-like mud until we could find a deeper spot to wade in. That’s where we met Shaggy Dog: the supplier of all tourist needs! The know-it-all of East Zanzibar! He could get us scooters, bicycles, snorkels, paddle boards, kite surfing, or a large assortment of illegal drugs and have everything organized in a matter of minutes.
The boys had already done introductions by the time Kelsi and I waded up through the water.
“Hi, my name is Shaggy Dog”
“Hilary” I replied as I shook his hand.
“Hairy? Nice to meet you, Hairy.”
Great. The second he said it, I got sideways smirks from the boys and knew “Hairy” was going to be my permanent nickname for the rest of the trip. Oh well, embrace it. “Yup, that’s me, Hairy!”
We told Shaggy Dog we were going to take it easy, but we’d chat with him the following day about activities. That day, we took it slow. Finally a day to lounge at the hostel, relax in the surf and walk along the vast stretches of white sand beaches. The water in Zanzibar is a beautiful turquoise blue colour that I wasn’t quite expecting from the coast of Africa. It was paradise.
We all went to a local restaurant for dinner, waited over an hour for our meals (despite being the only people in the place) then spent the night laughing by the fire. One of the local guys, who we nicknamed “Colgate” because he only had 3 functioning teeth, took a liking to Sandy which resulted in more fits if laughter from us girls. Colgate spent the evening dancing, playing the bongo, and offering up flowers and coconuts to him. Endless amounts of entertainment! We finally had to escape for a midnight dip in the ocean and lie out on the sand watching the stars well into the night.
The next day we collectively agreed to rent scooters for the day. Although we couldn’t drive the scooters on the roads without a permit, Shaggy Dog said it would be no problem just cruising up and down the beach. Falafel (Mallory’s nickname because she is a vegetarian) was our only voice of reason in the group.
“Guys, none of us know how to drive scooters, we don’t have permits, we don’t know the condition of the bikes, I’m not coming”. So Kelsi and I sat and tried to explain our unreasonable side. If we were going out, we were bringing the whole dirty 8, no man gets left behind!
“Falafel, it’s just scooters, what could possibly go wrong?!”
Famous last words…
In the end, we did convince her to join us. We rented four scooters between the 8 of us and trudged to the beach.
“No worries,” we told Shaggy, “we all know how to use these!”
Immediately afterwards the boys taught us all how to drive (being the only 2 people qualified enough to work a scooter). And yes, even I drove a motorized, 2-wheeled vehicle for a little while.
When we’d all practiced for a few minutes, we decided to head out 6km or so north to the Blue Lagoon. We hopped on the bikes and started out. Sarah jumped on the back of Nick’s bike, and as he started revving forward, she leaned back and the two of them flipped backwards, the bike, with wheels still spinning, crushing them from above.
“Help!!! Help! Get it off!” Sarah yelled at Nick.
“I can’t! You have to let go of me!!” Unfortunately, Kelsi and I were already driving up the beach, and so I missed actually seeing this. But apparently it was fits of shrieking from Sarah as she death clutched Nick’s waist so he was unable to move… Everyone else just stood around and watched and laughed. Minor cuts and bruises resulted from the accident, and the two of them were up and speeding down the beach in no time.
It was hot that day, and the wind blowing in my ears made it impossible to hear what Kelsi kept talking about as we drove along the surf line. A few minutes down the beach I heard Kelsi yelling something.
“What?!” I yelled. “Your helmet? What’s falling off? Should I hold it on for you” Then I looked up and realized what she was talking about. Cara and Mel had drifted too close to the water and hit some soft sand. The bike swerved, stopped short and sent the two of them flying over the handle bars. Mel did a full front flip from the back of the bike and landed in the water. Cara hit the handle bars during her ejection and skidded face first into the sand. Kelsi and I pulled up moments after Sandy and Falafel to find the bike upside down in the sand and the two girls walking around in a shocked daze.
“Are you alright?!”
“Ya… We just crashed” they said, all too calmly.
Cara was walking around in a crooked line, her face half covered in sand, lip bleeding and a mangled nose ring hanging from her nostril. Mel was just soaked, trying to take off her helmet as she walked back up to the beach. We hugged them both, made sure everyone was okay, flipped the bike back into an upright position and sat on the beach laughing for a good five minutes.
“How fast were you two GOING?!” We asked.
“Don’t know, but we were in 4th gear.” Said Cara.
More laughter.
Turns out, the bike engine was flooded and the front wheel was crooked. The girls were still a little shaken, but in amazing spirits. We hopped in the water for a swim, washed Cara’s face off, and made bets on how bad her black eye would be the next day.
The bike wouldn’t start. We dreaded how much it was going to cost us when we brought a busted bike back to Shaggy Dog. Falafel shook her head at us and reminded us of our “what could possibly go wrong speech”. Oops!
Luckily for us all, a half hour later the girls were able to kick start the bike and we set out (at a much slower speed) to find Nick and Sarah at the lagoon. In the end we never found it. But we did come upon a beautiful light blue cove with a resort that was absolutely stunning. A dock went out into the middle of the water and had a restaurant floating above the ocean at the end of it (For guests of the hotel only).
We went for a long swim, lay down in the lounge chairs, and eventually stopped at a restaurant on the beach for lunch. The seafood in Zanzibar is incredible. Actually, I think we only ate seafood for the entire four days we were on the island. The restaurant we were at served this delicious octopus curry that blew my mind. We actually ended up eating there the following day as well, where 4 of us ordered the octopus dish a second time.
After lunch we packed up and headed home (Cara and Mel a half hour slower than the rest of us). The damaged bikes were no big deal and cost us just a few dollars. The rest of the night was spent lounging around. We had another campfire party, which ended up turning into a tiger balm massage party after not too long. (Mel gives incredible tiger balm head massages that became a continual necessity for the rest of the trip).
On our final day in the East we were determined to find the real Blue Lagoon. So we rented slightly safer bicycles, got some vague directions from one of the staff and set out along the road. All of the locals in Zanzibar are so lovely. Nearly every man, woman or child we passed greeted us muzungus with an excited “Jambo!” and a wave. It felt nice to be so welcomed in their community.
After 45 minutes of biking in the scorching sunshine, we finally came upon the “Blue Lagoon” sign. We were all excited! Exhausted from the biking, parched, and sunburnt from the midday heat, all we wanted to do was jump in a lagoon and cool off. We biked down the rocky path that the sign pointed to, came around a building, and realized we were at the EXACT same location that we’d been at the afternoon before. Fail.
Apparently “lagoon” doesn’t have quite the same meaning in Africa as it does other places; but we weren’t complaining! We rented some snorkels, lounged around, and ate more delicious octopus curry.
When we arrived back home we started drinking: sipping on Killis in the shade throughout the late afternoon. We asked around for a good place in town to eat, and were given the name if this great little place about a 20 minute drive away.
We were getting pretty tipsy by the time our cab arrived. The 8 of us piled in and our driver blasted ear deafening tunes the entire way. When we got to “town” (aka, a slightly more dense area than where we already were) all we wanted was another beer. Too bad. On an island where 95% of the population is Muslim, many of the restaurants opt out of serving alcohol. This restaurant was one of those.
So we sat, for ages, waiting for our food to come out, and began to sober up. We had joked all weekend that our food only showed up once the candles on our table had burnt out. But when the ones that night were getting very close to the end, our server laid fresh ones out… Looks like we were going to be waiting a long time to eat.
In our drunken hunger, we all ordered way too many dishes. Pizzas, pasta, seafood, chips, etc. all started filling the table. Us girls filled up quickly and gave all our leftovers to the boys. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen two people eat so much before. We could feel their pain as beads of food sweat ran down their foreheads. In the end, not a scrap of food was left; not even the pizza slice that had fallen off the plate and landed on the dirty table.
A couple hours later we piled back into the sub woofer that was our taxi and headed for home. We sat on the rooftop of our little bar and played a wild game of Kings cup. Part way through, Scooby Doo came to join us for drinks. Scooby was this laid back, dreadlocked Rastafarian that may or may not have worked at Mustafas. He did however sleep on the couch on the roof of the bar, and seemed pretty content smoking weed all day and chatting with the tourists. Scooby was pretty drunk when he joined in our drinking game, when we had finished, he was beyond wasted. At one point we apparently offended him and he blew up at us.
“I hate you all! No one has a heart here! Screw all you guys! Only Sarah and I have feelings!” (How he targeted Sarah as his favourite we have no idea). No matter how much talking down we did, Scooby just got more angry. Finally he stormed off in a fit of expletives and left us wondering what had just happened.
Hours later, at about 3:30 in the morning, he stumbled upon us on the beach with a machete. He angrily hacked away at any lamp posts or palm trees he could find in a blind rage… Perhaps it’s time to leave Mustafas.
So we waited til he passed, went to bed, got up early and checked out. At 8:00 am Scooby was already awake and stoking the fireplace. We tiptoed around him, not quite knowing what he remembered from the night before. As we snuck out the front gates of the hostel we could here him yelling to us.
“Hey! Hey! You better f*cking come back to visit us, you here?! You better f*cking come back!!”
“Sure, thanks Scoobs” we yelled back
“Sarah!” He yelled “Say hi to your mom and dad from me!”
Omg. What a crazy man.
We climbed into our van, exhausted, and made the hour and a half trek back to Stone Town. Time to get the hell out of Zanzibar. What a weekend!

Stone Town: Zanzibar

Posted on February 10, 2013 by hilarylust

Stone Town, Zanzibar

We woke up dark and early the morning after the Serengeti tour to start our 14-hour drive to Dar Es Salaam. The drive was fairly uneventful and long, and the traffic as we reached the city was atrocious. It rained as we arrived at the campsite, but Kelsi and I braved the weather, passed on the sleeping upgrade and set up our tent in the dark and the damp.
Our Dar Es Salaam campsite was lovely. Right on the Indian Ocean with a great bar looking out to the water. We had a couple of beers with the boys before bed and then up early to head to Zanzibar.
It took three bus rides, two ferries and a customs stop to reach Stone Town. Everyone has to go through customs to get to the island. It’s an unusual system; Zanzibar has its own government and flag, and passports must be stamped upon entry. Still, the island is part of Tanzania, and the government has to answer to Tanzania’s rules.
The trip over was muggy and hot. We dragged our feet from bus to ferry and back in a pool of sweat. While we waited in line for the first ferry a local man snatched Sarah’s camera from her bag. She yelled at him as he passed it to his friend, then Kelsi grabbed it out of one guy’s hand to get it back. We glared at them as they walked away while some other locals snickered in amusement. A close call and another great welcoming.
For the second ferry, we opted for the fast version. This meant, for $8 extra, we reached the island in a quick 1-hour excursion instead of an excruciating 4-hour trek. Although the ferry was air conditioned, I’m not sure if I could have handled a four hour trip. When the waves picked up, the boat was sickening. Our trip over wasn’t bad, but the ride back was so choppy, I woke up from a short nap with half the people around me vomiting into bags. People wretched over the side of the boat, and locals lay down in the aisles with their heads in the complimentary barf bags. I had to walk outside to avoid the sounds and smells or I would have joined in on the festivities.
By midday we arrived in Stone Town: 95% Muslim population, a huge supplier of various spices and a central port for the once African slave trade. Stone Town is a quaint city with a combination of Arab and Indian architecture mixed in with local stonework. The city is filled with stone ramparts, stone homes, stone boardwalks and the such. We stayed right in the heart of the city, half a block from the beach, in a hotel called the Karibu Inn (or Caribooin as I wrote on my customs card because I apparently can’t understand Tanzanian accents). It was a great location.
The first thing we did was head out on a spice tour. Although a six-hour tour about spices seemed a little daunting after such a long trek, we had heard great things about the tour from other travelers. In the end, I think everyone was satisfied with the excursion.
The tour began with a free lunch. Two of our woo girls had been feeling ill for a couple days and opted out on lunch. This was perfect for the rest of us, who were starving, and took advantage of “secondsies” by ordering for them and eating two meals ourselves.
When we were satisfyingly stuffed, we drove the half hour out of town to the spice groves. Our guide, Ali D (not to be confused with Ali G), was one of the most unusual characters I’ve ever met. His Tanzanian accent was muddled with this bizarre cockney slang that made him sound ridiculous. Over his years as a tour guide, he had picked up a million colloquial phrases from Australians, Canadians, Kiwis and the British that all mixed into one very strange sounding man. He would normally use about three different accents in every sentence which made us all crack up in laughter every time he explained anything to us. He did have a pretty good sense of humour, and was also pretty good at straying off topic. Nonetheless, the spice tour was very informative.
The thing I found most unusual about the spice groves was how everything was laid out. I was expecting row after row of pepper trees, then a whole field devoted to vanilla followed by a grove of nutmeg. When we got there however, it was just a forest of scattered plants and trees. The harvesters have to walk through the different plants, remembering where each tree is, so that the crop can be picked. Zanzibar grows a LOT of spices. As we walked around the place we got to taste and learn about each spice. We tried lemongrass, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, cardamon, and pepper among many other things. We also got to try star fruit and lychees, fresh mangoes and jack fruit (a pineapple/banana tasting fruit that is surprisingly delicious!). When we had successfully explored the spice farm, we all got to sit down and enjoy some fresh fruits and hot tea, we had lemongrass with vanilla extract, a strong chai tea and a third one, with ginger that I’ve forgotten the name of now. Lemongrass and vanilla was Kelsi and my personal favourite.
When the tasting was over, we went back to get a quick walking tour of Stone Town. Although we did learn some things, this is where I felt that the tour fell flat. I would have loved to learn more about the slave trade and the architecture, but the information was minimal and didn’t stand out in my mind. We did get to check out the slave holding areas, which were small dungeon-like stone basements that held 75 or so slaves chained together. The heat was excruciating, and the only air and light was from small slit windows on the far side of the room. The one we sat in was made for women and children. Sadly, only able bodied women and children older than six were allowed in the market. The others were simply murdered. The area where the trading went on is now covered by a church. It was the Christians who finally came in and stopped the slave market from continuing. To remember and pray for the souls of those who had lived or died there, they built a large church right in the middle of the market.
The Stone Town tour concluded our trip for the day. We made it back in time to have a quick shower, a beer on the beach and then to the open market for dinner. Kelsi, Nick, Sandy and I were so hungry and excited by the time we hit the food market that we forgot to set prices before we ordered and ate. Only a couple bites into the food we realized we were about to get severely ripped off like ignorant white tourists. We couldn’t even do anything about it. Four experienced travelers, and yet all we could do was sit around, waiting to hear the bad news of how much everything was going to cost us. In the end we paid fancy restaurant prices for sub par street food prices and couldn’t argue a bit. Our fault entirely, c’est la vie! We needed a beer…
So the four of us headed out to Freddy Mercury’s bar (Freddy Mercury was actually born in Zanzibar) and started drinking. Before long, the world’s worst singer came out with a keyboard piano and butchered all our favourite classic songs. I don’t have great ear for music, I must admit. Even tone deaf people sound not half bad to me. But this guy had some weird, echoey trill to his voice that sounded a lot like his microphone was just busted. To ease the pain, we began playing drinking games. Before long, the musician was just background static and we were having a blast.
When Freddy’s closed, the bartender took us to a local outdoor nightclub where we could dance the night away. We partied until Sandy “wigged” out. Then, to make an excruciatingly long story short, there was some drama, a missing persons report, some angry nail painting, and finally a comfortable sleep in an actual bed: our first long day in Zanzibar completed.

The Masai

Posted on February 4, 2013 by hilarylust

During our two-day safari tour we got the chance to spend some time in a traditional Masai village for part of the afternoon. The Masai people are cow herders and nomads; they migrate with their flock and live in small huts as a community.
When a Masai tribe moves to a new location they send ahead about 20 women to build the village. They work, one home at a time, for close to a month to set up enough huts for everyone in the tribe. The huts are made from cow dung, mud and sticks. They are small. Very small. Inside, there is just enough room for two makeshift sleeping areas, a stool and a small fire hearth. Traditionally, the hut is for a man, his wife, and any children under the age of ten. There are also male and female huts for unmarried children over 10.
When we got the chance to go sit in one of the huts, it was like walking into a fly infested furnace. The heat was insane. I would have thought that the mud huts would have been a welcome afternoon escape from the scorching sun outside; unfortunately, the fire inside kept the hut as hot as hell both inside and out. A young man sat inside the hut and talked to us about the Masai ways. Sweat poured off my face and back while thousands of flies flew into my eyes and ears. Concentrating on the conversation was difficult to say the least.
The village that we spend time in consisted of about 20 or 30 small huts. They were enclosed in a fence made of bundled sticks that closed in the community. Just outside the fenced area stood a small, wooden hut. This was the village’s elementary school. 50 children attend this school every day: 25 in the morning and 25 in the afternoon, both male and female alike. When the children have passed all their classes, some will move on to a nearby town to attend secondary school. The others will herd cows or build huts with the rest of the community.
When our small group arrived at the village we were greeted by a traditional Masai welcoming dance. The men chanted and grunted in a line, then paraded around with small hopping movements and shaking sticks like batons in the air. We were herded into the dance with no preparation and looked like fools trying to figure out the steps without smashing into the person in front. When the dance had finished the men performed the “warrior dance”. All the men stood in a semi circle, yipping and hollering as two men step forward and try to out jumped each other. An old woman grabbed me by the hand and had me stand with the other women who were also chanting and lightly hopping as they watched the men. Then before I knew it, I was thrust a long stick and shoved into the warrior circle to out jump the men in the village. I thought I held my own against the first guy, who eventually stepped back and was replaced by a second jumping man. He kicked my ass. There’s no other way to put it. His feet were practically at my waist when he jumped. There was no keeping up if my life depended on it.
Overall it was pretty neat to see the traditional Masai way of life. The only complaint I would have is how the Masai have capitalized on tourism over the years. Even though it is required to pay $15 a person as an entrance fee to the village, before the tour was over, people were already bombarding us to buy trinkets and jewelry. I felt overly pressured to spend at least a couple bucks on a souvenir before the tour would continue. That was the only off-putting factor to the afternoon. Otherwise, it was an eye-opening peek into the nomadic world of the Masai culture.

Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti

Posted on February 3, 2013 by hilarylust

We pulled up to the entrance of the Ngorongoro crater just as the sun was rising. Ngorongoro is the largest crater on earth, at 310 square kilometers and a depth of 760 meters. It also hosts one of the greatest biodiversity of wildlife in the world. Here you can spot tens of thousands of different species, and all of Africa’s big 5.
Africa’s “Big 5” are the 5 most difficult animals to hunt on foot, they are also among the most dangerous to humans. This is new to me…until recently, I had ignorantly just assumed they were the five largest animals unique to Africa (much hilarity ensued when I had suggested that giraffes were among the most dangerous big 5). So, for those of you as unlearned as myself, the big five consists of lions, leopards, the cape buffalo, the African elephant and the rhinoceros.
Our jeep absolutely lucked out the day we went! We managed to see ALL of the big five in a single day. Apparently this is incredibly rare. Not only that, but we came upon four prides of lions during our two day stay. Two of them, right next to our jeep, and one large pride with cubs ripping apart a water buffalo… The National Geographic gore you hope to see while on a safari tour!
Our little jeep held 6 of us: Kelsi and I, our token “woo girls” Mel, Cara and Sarah, and our friend til the end, Mallory! All of us were ecstatic about entering the conservation area. As we drove through the entrance we sang along to the Lion King’s “Circle of Life” and within seconds we ran across a herd of buffalo. First of the big five, check! The buffalo are apparently extremely aggressive animals and are the second most dangerous to humans (next to the hippopotamus). We snapped some shots of the small herd from within the truck and moved along to the crater rim.
The first glimpse of the crater literally gave me goosebumps. It was early morning light, slightly overcast with sunbeams shining down onto the sparkling lake below. Shadowed mountains framed the green grasslands below and dark coloured specks were signs of abundant wildlife. The scene was breathtaking!
The decsent into the crater took about an hour in the jeep and even before hitting the bottom, we were seeing all sorts of animals: weaver birds, jackals, zebras, wildebeest, gazelles, ostriches, and foxes, among many others. It wasn’t before long that we came across a couple large elephants cruising across the plains and away from the lake. The six of us were overly enthusiastic about each and every animal! Hyenas, hippos and warthogs were each met with an excited gasp and an occasional “woo!” from the jeep.
Before long, we came across our first pride of lions. A group of lionesses and one male all bathing in the morning sunlight after an early kill. Lions all hunt very early in the morning and only need to do so once every three or four days. Although we were so excited to see lions (especially up so close) I must admit, there’s only so many photos one can take of sleeping animals. Our guide told us this may be our only chance to see lions, and so, we stuck around for a while, just watching the sleeping beasts.
Amazingly, however, about two minutes down the road we ran into ANOTHER pride. These ones were slightly more alive, and they were actually lying on the road! Can’t get much closer than that.
By lunch that afternoon we had seen four of the big five. The rhinoceros was the only disappointment. There are only black rhinos in the Ngorongoro Crater, and they are very rare. In fact, there are only 20 of them in the whole area. We were fortunate enough to see three out of the 20, but they were so far away it was pointless trying to catch them on my sub par camera.
Lunch was a pre-packed meal that we ate by a small lake in the crater. We were warned by our driver to eat our meals inside the car. “There are many birds around that will eat your food! They will bite off your fingers if they get a chance” he said. But it was too nice of a day to sit inside the car, so Kelsi and I found a rock nearby to sit on and enjoy the sunshine. Before long everyone had joined us and I figured we would find safety in numbers and the circling scavengers above would ignore us.
We were still exploring the full contents of our little lunch box when the first bird struck. Poor Robbo was peacefully nibbling on a chicken thigh when a falcon swooped across the top of us, snatched the entire piece of chicken from his hands and caught a talon in the side of his nose. The damage was minimal; only a small mark and a single spot of blood was left on Robbo’s face… The chicken was never seen again. We all nearly choked on our meals we were laughing so hard. It happened so fast we weren’t quite sure what had gone wrong. But when the laughter died, we looked up to see a few dozen birds above us, just waiting for a similar chance… We ate the rest of lunch in the jeeps.
By that afternoon it was time to leave the crater and head to the Serengeti. Serengeti National Park is 14763 square kilometers of flat grassland. Moments into the park we got a flat tire. A very minor inconvenience when compared to other stories we’ve heard (a man we met in Zanzibar said his jeep did a full roll and he fell out the top). All we had to do was sit in the scorching heat for a quarter of an hour. A wonderful welcoming into the park.
The Serengeti hosts another array of animals to see. This is where we came across our first tower of giraffes (and yes, I learned that “tower” is the proper collective noun for a group of giraffes). The giraffes were one of my personal highlights of the day. It was so strange to see these tree-like beasts trekking across the plains like moving trunks. Their heads sway up and down as they move and it’s almost humorous watching them move along in a line of head bobbing beasts. Fun fact about
the giraffe: they are the only animal that doesn’t make a sound. Apparently all of their communication is done by body language.
Just before sunset, we came across a grove of sausage trees. Sausage trees (which have strange fruit that look just like hanging sausages) are a preferred relaxing place for leopards, and before we knew it, someone had spotted one in the trees. There was a mother leopard and a cub chilling out in one of the lower hanging branches. They had made a kill and were taking turns chewing away pieces of the animal in the crook of a tree branch. Once again, my 8megapixel iPhone fell short on the zoom. But we got out some small binoculars and spent a good half hour watching the two animals. The last of our big five!! I couldn’t believe we’d seen them all in a single day. What a feat!
As the sun set we headed to camp. We were spending the night out in the wilderness, with all sorts of animals just roaming around the area. Rules for that night were very strict. Don’t go to the bathroom at night unless it’s with 3 or 4 people. No flashlights in the tent, no sounds, no snoring, definitely no food, and good luck making it through the night alive! If you see an elephant, run the other direction, if you see a lion, walk calmly in the other direction… So many things to remember! So we all went to bed that evening thinking of wild animals. During the night a hyena scavenged around the tents, and strange sounds could be heard, but everyone was alive and well by our 5am wake up call (just in time for lions to start their morning hunt… Fantastic).
We did a final game drive that morning, had lunch, and then worked our way back to Snake Park for dinner time. Pretty amazing couple days if I say so myself!