Change In Plans

Greetings from Tswalu!  Unfortunately, we are leaving this desert paradise around noon today.  We will be driving for about four hours to a tent camp in the Trans-Frontier National Park, and staying there for the next few days.  This short post is about what we have been doing in our last 24 hours at Tswalu.

Yesterday afternoon, once we figured out that Zola had gotten the poisonous sap from the tree euphorbia in his nose and mouth, Jason, Samuel and I shifted our afternoon game drive into a quest for bushman medicine. 

Jason dug a succulent root from the side of the road, cut off the outer skin, and gave Zola a piece to chew.  Jason’s insistence that the root “tastes just like warm water” was a bit generous (I tasted a piece myself), but Zola’s mouth felt a little better.  Later, on the theory that the poison was a mild acid, we pulverized some limestone, and made an alkaline mouth rinse.  This didn’t work very well (Zola swallowed a big mouthful, which caused him more anxiety).  A limestone poultice seemed to really help the mild acid burn on his face, though.  Finally, Jason cut us some hoodia, which is a succulent known for giving energy and suppressing appetite (now available in U.S. drugstores).  Again, Jason’s characterization of the taste -”very pleasant, like licorice”- was too charitable, but I definitely felt the stimulus effect.

We did not see a lot of interesting game (except a small buffalo herd), but it was fun finding the bush remedies.  The best part of the drive, though, was watching the spectacular sunset from the top of a small sand dune.  Jason, Samuel and Zola dug up scorpion holes, hoping to find one of the occupants to inspect.  Eventually they went off to look at a dead Oryx by the side of the road.  Tallulah played in the sand.  India and I sat with our drinks and admired the beauty of the desert, and the electric drama of gathering thunderstorms.  We could see 10-20 kilometers in every direction, but could not see evidence of any other human life.  Once again, we got soaked on the drive back to the lodge.

This morning, we slept until 6, and then drove down to the stables.  Like everything else at Tswalu, the stables were absolutely top class.  They had riding boots and chaps waiting for us, and a string of beautiful horses were saddled.  Most exciting, Tallulah got to ride her own horse (with a lead line), and we walked off into the desert.  We saw a sable, a few Nyala, and two grumpy old male buffalo down by a water hole.  The scenery was spectacular.  We saw a burned patch of about 20 acres, where a lightning strike had ignited a brush fire a few months ago.  Apparently, this brings out the entire Tswalu staff of 150 people to light backfires and beat out flames.  If the reserve burnt down, it would be bad for conservation and for business.

On the ride, Jason told a story about when the (now-deposed) King and Queen of Nepal visited Sabi Sands, and he took them on their game drives.  The two Nepali generals who were acting as bodyguards got very nervous every time Jason reached for his rifle.  This is reasonable, given that the king’s predecessor (and brother) died in a hail of gunfire.  Jason said that the king was not very pleasant company, shouting “Drive, just drive!” when Jason stopped to look at any animal not to his regal liking.  As the group sat and watched a mother leopard feeding its cub, the king flicked a lit cigarette next to them.  A team of rangers had to drive off the mother leopard, and beat out the small fire that he had started.  A few months after the king’s visit, the Nepali Maoists finally deposed him, and sent him into internal exile.  Jason said, “I don’t wish bad on anyone, but when I saw that news on CNN, I figured it served the king right.”

On the way back from riding, we saw two male warthogs fighting ferociously on the road.  They butted heads, slashed at each other with their tusks, and generally mixed it up.  Eventually, one warthog backed away warily, while his victorious opponent sprayed sand in the air and grunted triumphantly.  After breakfast, and some on-line math (Zola and I are cranking), Jason and Samuel took the kids to do archery.  Zola shot the arrows, and Tallulah ran to retrieve them.

Tswalu is just great.  We are sorry to be leaving, but are excited about heading back to Namibia.  The long drive begins today.

Greetings from Tswalu!  This short post relates a few of the stories/facts that Jason, our guide, has told us during our game drives in the last two days.

Last January, after our holiday in Cape Town, India came to Tswalu with her parents and our kids.  I had gone back to work in San Diego.  They had a guide named Jason, who each member of the family seemed to fall in love with a little bit.  Aside from the game drives, he accompanied India on walks and runs in the desert.  He took Zola to ride horses and do archery, and he talked with him endlessly about snakes.  He carried Tallulah, told her funny stories, and let her be a big girl.  The prospect of having Jason as our guide again was a big draw for our return to Tswalu this year.

Having gotten over my slight prejudicial jealousy (I really wish I were a better person), I have been wildly impressed with Jason.  The depth and breadth of his knowledge is truly phenomenal, and his boyish enthusiasm for being out in nature is infectious.  Mostly, though, the stories that he tells, and the facts that he imparts, have been remarkable.  Most are delivered in an off-hand way, in reference to something we are walking by or driving by.  Here are a few examples:

Pink-billed Ostrich

- this morning we saw a male ostrich with a bright pink bill.  Jason remarked that this was a sign of very high testosterone, and that his shins would be colored pink as well (they were).  When male ostriches are looking to mate, they get these pink markings, and, apparently they get very aggressive.  ”I had to shoot one once in the Kruger Park, you know.” Jason said.  He was leading a group of guests on a walk, and a lust-crazed ostrich attacked them.  He fended off the ostrich, using his rifle as a club, but the ostrich started to kick at him.  An ostrich’s kick as as dangerous as a horse’s.  Jason radioed for a vehicle to come rescue the group, but was told it would be 20 minutes.  ”So, unfortunately, I had to shoot him before he kicked my ribs in.  It was too bad, really.  He just wouldn’t leave us alone”

Tampan Ticks and the Shepherd Bush - A Shepherd Bush is a low, scrubby plant that has high protein and Vitamin A content in its leaves.  As we drove past the zillionth one, Jason remarked “the ground around them is filled with Tampan ticks.  Very dangerous.”  These ticks sense the carbon dioxide that an animal or human emits, and they crawl up out of the ground and bite whatever is resting in the shade of the Shepherd Bush.  The real risk, though, is that “from the anti-coagulant in a few of those bites, you get temporary paralysis.”  If no one hauls your temporarily paralyzed self away from the ticks, they would essentially bite you to death.  Not a pleasant way to go, but very uncommon.  Most people pull off the ticks and walk away before the paralysis sets in.

Radiating gnu

- the wildebeest, or brindled gnu, has alternating stripes of thick/black and thin/brown fur along its sides.  This pattern is the “brindling.”  Jason says that the sun heats the thin and thick fur to slightly different temperatures, and that the heat exchange between them creates a very slight cooling convective effect.  I would want to see the paper describing this, but it makes sense.

Elephant and Ecologist

-A British woman with sixteen years of experience as an ecologist was killed by an elephant in Sabi Sands a few years ago.  She and Jason worked together for eight years, as she studied the habits of an elephant breeding herd.  In one of her thousands of encounters with the elephants, the matriarch started charging toward her.  Her colleague ran for shelter, but she clapped her hands loudly, which had stopped that same she-elephant on many previous occasions.  This time, the elephant knocked her down and trampled her to death.  Jason said, “I arrived a few minutes later, and there was really nothing left of her, just a red spot in the dust.”  After shooting the elephant (standard operating procedure), the rangers boxed the woman’s remains, and held a sad and well attended burial service on a hill in the Sabi Sands.  A few days later, the elephant herd, with a new matriarch, spent the entire day at the grave site, “scratching at the dirt, and paying their respects.”  I asked whether they knew that the ecologist was buried there, and Jason said, “Of course.  Elephants are extremely clever, and they would have done this for one of their own.”

It has been fun riding and walking round in the Kalahari, tracking animals and listening to stories.  I had not gone on safari in Africa for about three years, and I had forgotten how much pure fun it can be.  With a guide like Jason, and a tracker like Samuel (more on him later), this is as good as it gets.

PostScript- to avoid embarrassment (my own), I asked Jason whether these stories were, in fact, true. He said “gospel truth,” after I read each one. He specified that the late ecologist was named Kay Hickox.

In the meantime, Zola managed to poison himself (very slightly) by jabbing holes in a cactus with a porcupine quill. Turns out that the milky sap from the cactus, a tree euphorbia, is highly toxic. The indigenous KhoiSan use the sap to poison their darts. By touching the quill point and his nose and mouth he has had an unpleasant few hours of burning sensation. It is absolutely not dangerous, but he probably won’t do it again. We are off to make a mild alkaloid bush remedy from pulverized lime. Once again, India and I ask ourselves, “is this responsible parenting?”

KALAHARI DESERT SUNSET

Greetings from Tswalu Nature Reserve, Northern Cape Province, South Africa. We have been at Tswalu Motse, an amazing safari lodge, for just over a day. This post is about five things I have seen here that I had never seen before. Photos to follow.

I am writing this on my BlackBerry from our windswept, open-air campsite on the top of a little hill, in the middle of the Kalahari Desert. All four of us are lined up on army cots under the stars. We are about 10 kilometers from the main lodge, having driven out after dinner.  We will never forget this night of sleeping out.

Here are the five new things, in no particular order:

1- Zola playing Risk and solving pre-algebra math problems

. Suddenly his brain has switched on in a new way. We are halfway through his first-ever game of Risk, and the kid is crushing me. I would like to say it is all luck, but he is playing well. More important, his on-line math curriculum vaulted him into a new level of problem-solving complexity today. He grumbled, but stepped up. I am suddenly encouraged.  It is great that Tswalu Motse has Risk (and about 50 other board games) in its game room.  It also has great satellite broad-band access.

CHEETAH OBSERVED ON FOOT FROM 3 METERS

2- A cheetah with a freshly killed steenbok, observed on foot from three meters away

. Our guide and tracker jumped off the vehicle on this morning’s game drive, tracking wild dogs on foot into the off-road bush. They did not take a rifle. Ten minutes later, they emerged from the undergrowth, slightly shaken. Our guide, Jason the Great, was clutching his Leatherman tool, with its 8 centimeter knife blade out.  He had improvised the tiny knife as a potential weapon against a cheetah they had surprised in the bush. This struck us all as very funny.  We all walked back in (Lu on my shoulders) and tracked the cheetah to a little temporary lair. Cheetahs are the weakest of the big-cat predators, and their kills are taken away by other animals (eg, hyenas, lions, even large birds of prey).  As we watched, the cheetah got comfortable with our presence a few feet away, then started to eat the tiny deer in its jaws. Amazing.

3- a pride of lions feasting on a baby mountain zebra.

We watched from about three meters away in our Land Rover, as a male lion and four cubs ripped their kill to shreds. The rest of the pride, two lionesses and four other cubs lolled and licked blood from each others’ faces nearby. Very primeval, and very dramatic.  We all sat quite still and silent, but Tallulah (wearing a giraffe-print dress) shifted around some in my lap.  The big male lion started staring at her with considerable interest, which was very unnerving.  Jason started the engine and got us out of there quickly.

4- a spectacular 360-degree lightning show

. At sunset, we started seeing huge and dramatic lightning strikes in the distance. We have not heard thunder, or felt rain (good thing, given our al fresco sleeping arrangements), but the sky is alight all around us.  Apparently, the high iron content of the Kalahari soil draws lightning like warm meat draws flies, or free beer draws frat boys, or a pre-Christmas sale draws Wal-Mart shoppers.  Choose your metaphor, it is pretty amazing to look at.

ZOLA IN THE TRACKER

5- a game lodge as cool as Tswalu Motse. We are basically the only people here. This is a 100,000 hectare nature preserve, handed over to the Baird Family for a few days. Want to go for a walk in the desert at mid-day? Sure.  Want to let Zola ride in the tracker’s seat on the Land Rover’s hood for a while? No problem. Want to camp in the desert instead of sleeping in your big rondavel? Absolutely. Want to ride horses instead of driving around in a Land Rover?  Let me call the stables.

This is a phenomenally great place. Our guide and tracker, Jason and Samuel, and the rest of the staff, are all unbelievably good.  The landscape is dramatically beautiful, and the reserve is loaded with healthy game.  It is even worth the 5 am wakeup call.

Who knows what we will see tomorrow. Today has been pretty spectacular.

Late-night PostScript: about an hour after I posted this, the heavens opened up, and we got thoroughly rained upon.  Maybe the tentless camping wasn’t such a great idea after all.  We packed up our camp quickly, and drove back to the lodge in the open Land Rover, getting wetter with each kilometer.  Tallulah slept through it all.  We will be up again in about 4 hours for the morning game drive.

[Note: Written on 7 January, but only published on 8 January]

Greetings from Upington, South Africa.  This short post is about our trip from Cape Town, and our short stay in Upington.

Our flight was delayed about 20 minutes, but eventually we boarded a bus and rolled out to the airplane.  Except for us, everyone on the bus was speaking Afrikaans.  There were no children, and no obvious tourists.  A man about my age asked, in English, “Are you lot really going to Upington?  Are you sure?”  I guess there is a reason that there is only one flight per day.

Stepping off the plane in Upington was like walking into a wall of heat.  It was just over 40 degrees Celsius, or 105 Fahrenheit.  Welcome to the desert!  As they say, “It’s a dry heat.”

Upington International Airport is about the size of a two-bedroom Manhattan apartment.  Occasionally flights land from Namibia or Botswana, giving it “International” status.  The Cape Town flight must have been the last of the day, because as soon as we had collected our luggage, and walked out to the parking lot, the airport staff all left and locked the door behind us.

There is a row of six small sheds which house the representatives of six different rental-car companies.  We found Gustav, from Hertz, and he checked us in to our Isuzu 4×4 pick-up truck (invariably described as a “bakkie” in South Africa).  I asked Gustav if it had been busy during the holidays, and he said that we were his first rental in the last seven days.  My guess is that Gustav gets a lot of reading done, and/or has an awesome Facebook page.

We stayed over at a guest house called Le Must.  When I called for directions, and I described where I was, Natasha, Le Must’s manageress, said, “Ag, you are too far away for me to tell you how to get here.  Call back when you see the Absa Bank on Schroder Straat.”  Literally ten seconds later I was in front of the bank.  Sixty seconds after that, we were driving past a series of curiously named guest houses along the Orange River: “The Hadeda,” “The Burger House,” “Biki B&B,” “Nirvana.” And sixty seconds after that we were in the driveway of Le Must.

Upington is a dusty, old-fashioned, South African town.  The streets are still all named after Afrikaner settlers, and the stores carry the necessities of living in a hot, dry climate.  90% of the population is mixed race, what the apartheid system used to classify as “coloured.”  Virtually everyone speaks Afrikaans.  The biggest building in town is the Dutch Reformed Church. It does not appear to have changed much in the ten years since I was last here.

Le Must guest house, rated the best in Upington, was small, and comfortable, and unbelievably inexpensive.  The total cost for two rooms, including breakfast, was about $50.  Hallelujah!  We went for a short swim, then drove back into town for a heavy but good dinner outdoors at Le Must’s restaurant.   The menu warned us, “You are in meat country.  The fish has been frozen.”  By 9pm, we were all in bed.

Leaving Cape Town seems to have been more traumatic for Tallulah and Zola than we had anticipated.  Tallulah has been clinging to three Barbie dolls as if they were a life raft in a stormy sea.  At dinner she sat under the table for most of the meal, playing with the dolls in the rocks and sand.  She insisted that this was OK, because “Sienna’s daddy said it was OK in Cape Town.”  That night she tossed and turned and talked in her sleep.

Zola has been moody and uncommunicative since we left for the airport in Cape Town.  He was sorry to leave Winston, our Llandudno neighbor and his constant companion of the last week.  Also, as we have realized, Zola likes stability and predictability.  Having a “home” in Cape Town, and having some semblance of a daily rhythm really suited him.  Now he is alone and in constant motion again.  We hope he will cheer up once we get out to Tswalu (also familiar turf for him), and we start tracking animals.

India is in high spirits.  She loves game drives, and she loves the desert.  She is ready to get moving again.  As usual, I am somewhere in the middle.  We had gotten very comfortable in our little home by the sea, and in our vacation-bubble faux normalcy. 

It is getting hot again, and we need to get on the road.  It is a three-hour drive to the gates of the Tswalu Nature Reserve.  The bakkie is loaded, and we are ready to go.  Tot siens, Upington.

Greetings from the Cape Town International Airport! We are sitting in a giant air-conditioned tent at the edge of the runway. This is the temporary domestic terminal for the next several months, until the big, new, state-of-the-art terminal gets completed. We all hope that they finish before the Fifa Soccer World Cup starts in 2010.

This short post is about our (temporary) departure from the Llandudno house, as we go off for a few weeks to the Northern Cape and then to Namibia.

Fortunately, we are returning to the exact same house at the end of January. The owner was kind enough to let us store ‘a few things’ in the garage while we are away. What we discovered is that during our four stationary weeks in Cape Town, we have somehow accumulated a colossal amount of stuff. We are traveling reasonably light for the next few weeks, but we have stowed more stuff in Llandudno than four average college students would take to furnish their dorm room. We will purge and ship boxes when we return to Cape Town.

We spent most of the morning packing, but Zola, Winston (his new BFF) and I got in one last boogie-boarding session on Llandudno beach. Zola tried using flippers for the first time. In the words of the surfer turtle dude from “Finding Nemo,” the flippers were “Like, totally awesome, dude.”

This afternoon, we are flying to Upington, a small town about 800 kilometers north of Cape Town. Tomorrow morning we are picking up a rented 4×4 desert vehicle, and driving about 3 hours to a private game reserve called Tswalu, in the Kalahari Desert. India and the kids went to Tswalu last January, and they have all been anticipating the return trip eagerly. The plan is to go on a lot of game drives, ride horses and hike, shoot bows and arrows, and feast in the desert. It should be a great few days.

On Saturday, we are driving from Tswalu through the Kalahari Desert. We will cross into Namibia through one of the seldom-used desert border crossings, and then camp for a few days in the desert. For about two weeks we will be driving all around the country: to the old German port towns on the west coast, to the huge orange sand dunes neas Sossusvlei, and to the Etosha National Park in the north.

India and I did similar long drives around Namibia four or five times in the past, but neither of us has been since before Zola was born. Someone told us that it hasn’t changed much, but now there are fancy places to stay.

My father and step-mother visited us in Cape Town the year before he died. My Dad loved Namibia, in part because its German colonial heritage reminded him so much of his own childhood. I still get teary eyed watching the videotape that he shot in the Namib desert, and listening to his voice on the goofy commentary.

Our time in Cape Town has been truly wonderful. Even if we didn’t have to retrieve our stored luggage, I would be thrilled that we are going to have another week here at the end of the month. On the drive to the airport, India said, “Next time, more butternut lasagna and more hiking. That’s what I’m talking about!”

In the meantime, desert adventure and long drives await us. Go Namibia!

ONE OF THE GREAT JOBS

Greetings from Cape Town.  Many South Africans are going back to work today: the old, European-style, four-week summer holiday seems to have gone away in the post-apartheid transition.  This has made Zola and me think about some of the truly terrible jobs that we have observed in our travels.  

In a clumsy parent psychology way, I am sort of trying to have Zola make the connection between doing well in school and not having one of these awful jobs.  Of course, in many places (including South Africa) the unemployment rate is so high that any job would be better than no job.  Also, I’m sure there are many truly terrible, dangerous and physically demanding jobs (eg, in Indian agriculture) that take place away from tourists’ eyes.  This list is only a sampler.  By a global standard, any of us who get to work with our brains, in a safe and comfortable environment, are incredibly lucky.

In no particular order, these were the lousiest jobs that came to mind for Zola and me:

Tannery worker in Fes, Morocco -  These men stomp around in big open-air vats, mixing pigeon feces and dyes into animal skins.  It is a brutally hot, tedious, and physically demanding job, hazardous to the health, and it smells terrible.  Within reason and legality, it doesn’t get much worse than this.

Punkawallah in India (largely obsolete) - “punka” is the Hindi word for a big fan, and the punkawallah was responsible for fanning the maharajah or other important person, to keep them cool.  It is a fun word to say, but must have been a terrible job.  Most of the royal punkawallahs were also eunuchs, which would be a definite negative.

Head-tote porter in Kathmandu - for some reason, it seemed that Nepal uses a lot of human labor in moving heavy things around.  Loads that would be carried by donkeys in a few countries, or by some wheeled vehicle (motorized or not) pretty much everywhere else, are carried on the backs of Nepalis, attached by a rope to their foreheads.  I think the rope is called a tump line.  This would be a terrible job.  We met a tiny girl carrying a heavy load of wet laundry this way, and Zola tried, unsuccessfully, to strap on the basket and walk 20 meters.  

ZOLA AS TUMP-LINE PORTER

Escalator Greeter in Japan - Many escalators in Japan have two greeters, one at each end, who bow as you get on and get off the escalator.  Standing and bowing appear to be the extent of their responsibilities.  This job is safe, indoors, and physically easy, but pushes the concept of monotony to a new level.

Domestic-route pilot in Nepal - this job is just flat-out dangerous.  The equipment is ancient, the routes are hazardous (mountains and weather), and the airport infrastructure is poor.  These planes seem to crash with alarming frequency.  Next time we will drive, thanks.

Elaborate-design craftsperson (Tangka painter in Nepal, stone-inlayer in India, mosaic-tile maker in Morocco, rug weavers in multiple countries) - the men and women who do these jobs may love the beauty of the finished products, and for the opportunity to approach perfection over their careers.  In many cases, these skills are handed down from generation to generation, performed by large families.  In each case, however, the work requires painstaking attention to tiny details, and endless task repetition, usually done in an uncomfortable position.

Anything cow related in India - the skinners of natural-death cows, and the collectors of cow dung are very low caste.  If anything bad happens to the cows, they seem to get blamed.  Occasionally, the dead-cow skinners are attacked by Hindu fundamentalists who think that the skinners killed the cows.  Cows are so weighted with religious and cultural significance that it seems best to steer clear of them generally.  

Shopkeeper in Moroccan medinas

- this is another job where the tedium and the sense of unfulfilled human potential would be stifling.  Seeing a row of ten identical small shops, each with shopkeepers who have practically nothing to do, and no way to differentiate their products, was depressing.  Maybe the physical ease and the social element (everyone you know walks by) would be enough to offset the negatives.

We also saw many jobs which would be fantastic to have. Two of the best were:

Bollywood star in India - Indians seem to adore and cherish their entertainment celebrities far more than Europeans or even Americans do.  The biggest stars (eg, A. Bachchan) are treated like deities, rivaled only by cricket stars.  Doing the dancing and the wet sari scenes would be fun too.

Gulet captain in Turkey - less grand that being a Bollywood star, but this would be a terrific job.  The captains motor and sail their magnificent boats around in beautiful places, they meet interesting people, they have the on-board chefs and stewards to a lot of the more difficult work.  It would be a fun job, and only requires about six months of work each year, leaving time for something else on shore.

Now it is time to get Zola started on his math work, so that he ends up as a Bollywood star rather than a punkawallah, I guess.

TALLULAH AND SIENNA RUNNING ON THE BEACH

Greetings from Cape Town.  This short post is about a story I heard over lunch, which has made India and me think more about what we want to do with our lives.

After our morning routine (India runs a long way, Zola and I do school, Tallulah draws pictures, we pick up India on the road) we went down to Muizenberg to surf.  Conditions were good today: it was a tough high-tide paddle out to the back, but the waves were big and slow-breaking, and I had some awesome long rides back in. Zola took a lesson (www.surfshack.co.za), and India and Tallulah played on the beach.

The four of us sat at a beachside cafe for lunch, and India and I were counting all of the things in South Africa that have gotten noticeably better in the 15 years since apartheid ended.  Unexpectedly, Joel Alsfine, one of my friends from business school and from McKinsey, walked past us on the sidewalk.  Joel is South African, so it wasn’t a complete surprise, but he lives in New York, and we had not seen each other in the last few years.

Joel sat with us for about half an hour, which was great.  During the course of the conversation he related a story about one of his elderly relatives, who is suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.  

Apparently, in his dementia, Joel’s relative believes that he is perpetually on the Blue Train.  The Blue Train is a hyper-luxurious train from the 1920s, which travels the 24-hour route between Cape Town and Pretoria. (www.bluetrain.co.za) It is a big South African tourist attraction.  My mother and step-father took it once, when they were visiting us, and thought it was absolutely amazing.

At a recent family dinner, Joel’s elderly relative exclaimed: “That was a delicious dinner.  The food on this train just gets better and better all the time.  I should go and compliment the chef.”  

His daughter said, “Pop, don’t be ridiculous.  You know that Mommy cooked this dinner.”

The elderly relative said, “Amazing.  She cooked dinner for the whole train?”

A funny story, and well told by Joel.  It may even be true.

The conversation shifted to a hypothetical “where would you want your dementia to place you in perpetuity,” if that ever came to pass.  Joel and his wife have talked about Groot Constantia, a beautiful wine estate in Cape Town (and a long way from White Plains, New York).  India and I agreed that being perpetually on the beach in Llandudno and Muizenberg would be a great hypothetical dementia outcome.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Greetings from Cape Town.  This short post is about the first few days of the year. 

Favorite visual juxtaposition from the last few days: a young Muslim man walking on the street with a fully burqa-and-veil clad woman.  It wasn’t clear whether the woman was his wife, mother, sister or daughter.  The man was wearing a black t-shirt, with big white letters reading “SH*T HAPPENS WHEN YOU PARTY NAKED.” I guess the long arm of the Wahabbists hasn’t quite reached the Cape Town Muslim community.

On Thursday morning, India was determined to continue her January 1st tradition of running from Llandudno to the top of Chapman’s Peak.  Her planned companion cancelled, so I volunteered (unwisely) to join India on the 12-mile early morning run.  As expected, she was absolutely fine, and I suffered like an out-of-shape dog.  

Chapman’s Peak Drive is closed to cars these days, because huge boulders keep rolling down off the mountain and onto the road.  This spectacular stretch of road is left to the cyclists and runners and walkers. It was fun for India and me to talk about the times that we ran the Two Oceans Marathon, along that same route, and for us to just enjoy each other’s company.  The highlight, though, was finding a little waterfall next to the road.   With the South Atlantic splayed 500 feet below us, we drank from the mountain-stream and reveled in the glory of it all.

While we were gone, Su and Dave took all of the kids to the base of Table Mountain, for their third attempt at getting to the top.  For some reason, unlike December 31st, there were no crowds at all.  Within 20 minutes of arriving, they had parked, gotten tickets, and taken the cable car to the top.  India and I found them drinking cappuccino outside the cafe on the top of the mountain, after they had been hiking around for about an hour.  We were thrilled that they all were able to visit Cape Town’s most beautiful spot before they headed home.

“A-TRAIN” or “LITTLE A”     surfing nicknames              ”Z-BIRD” or “Z-MONEY”

That afternoon we got a final boogie boarding session in on Llandudno beach, and then (sadly), the Langdons had to leave us to start the long trip back to Maine.  We had a very fun week with them.

On Friday morning, we started to get back into the “on our own in Cape Town” routine.  India left for a long solo run, and Zola and I did schoolwork.  We picked India up on the road and went off to do errands.  

In the early afternoon we had a long and awesome surfing session down at Muizenberg.  It was one of the best surfing days I have ever had.  The highlight, though, was seeing Zola ride a wave all the way to the beach from about 100 meters out, and then step off of the board as casually as if he were getting off an escalator at the mall.  It was like watching him sit a horse for the first time, or ice skate, or sing in front of his school: a moment of great paternal pride.

DAD TRYING TO HANG TEN

On the way back from surfing, we went to Kirstenbosch Gardens.  This is South Africa’s huge national botanical garden, nestled into the lower slopes on the back side of Table Mountain.  

It is difficult to describe how beautiful the setting is, and how peaceful and utopian the gardens themselves are.  We hiked up the paths and across the soft, grassy slopes, with Tallulah leading the way.  This is where Zola learned to walk, and where we have had countless picnics and attended many outdoor concerts.  Before we had children, India and I ran through the upper gardens and into Cecilia Bos forest at least a hundred times.  Yesterday we followed the “visually impaired” nature trail rope through the woods, and stopped in the fragrance garden to smell the smells.  Zola and I talked about the Western Cape plant kingdom, with the unique and otherworldly fynbos.  We talked about the bitter-almond hedge that Jan van Riebeeck planted in the 1650s, to keep the rest of Africa out of his colony.  A big segment of the hedge is still preserved in Kirstenbosch, and yes, the almonds taste very bitter.

Eventually, India and I sat on the grass to talk in the sunshine, while Zola and Tallulah chased guinea fowls and looked for tadpoles in the stream.  Like so many other places in Cape Town, Kirstenbosch seems to get better with each passing year.

TALLULAH THE EXCITABLE TOUR GUIDE

We are laying low a little bit, enjoying our last few days before we start traveling again.  On Wednesday we leave for the Northern Cape, to go on safari for a few days.  From there, we will drive to Namibia for about two weeks, before we return to Cape Town.  This is a different, and very relaxing, type of family travel experience.

ZOLA AND DAD READING ABOUT JACKIE ROBINSON

Greetings from Cape Town!  We continue to have a fun and relaxing “vacation from our vacation,” so to speak.  With my sister and family here, we have actually been going pretty hard for the last several days.

 India has developed a foolproof method for getting us out of the house early.  She leaves at about 7:30 am for a long run, with instructions to “pick me up at 9 o’clock at XXX.”  We meet her, she changes clothes in the car, and off we go.  Cape Town is  unbelievably crowded, so these early starts have been hugely helpful.

Sunday - Aquarium Day.  The weather was lousy in the early morning, so we went to the Two Oceans Aquarium, down in the waterfront.  The aquarium did a big refresh in the last year, so it was great.  Tallulah, in particular, had a fantastic time, running from exhibit to exhibit.  In the afternoon, Andrew, Zola, Winston (our neighbor) and I went surfing in Muizenberg.  It was pouring with rain, the surf was big, and very rough, and it had kicked up a lot of kelp and sand in the water.  To my surprise, all three boys had a blast, shrieking and laughing in the surf.  The rest of the group went back to Rhodes Memorial, and also got drenched having lunch outside (probably less shrieking and laughing).  The weather cleared in the late afternoon, and we had a great boogie board session back over in Llandudno.

ZOLA AND EAGLE

Monday- Wine Country Day.  We started at the Spier Estate in Stellenbosch, which has an orphaned-cheetah center and a raptor-rescue center.  Again, getting there early was a big bonus: all of the kids got to pet cheetahs, cuddle baby barn owls, and hold an eagle.  When we left, the line was hours long.  We went to Morgenhof Estate for lunch, which has been a traditional favorite.  It was fun to sit outside, and the kids had a grand time wrestling and running around, but the restaurant has lost its way.  By the time we left, it was pouring rain.  We visited two other favorite estates -Kanonkop, Uitkyk- bought some wine, and drove back to the city.  The Cape Town wine country is so close by that it is an easy day trip.  After we got back to Llandudno, Andrew and Zola played rugby on the beach, and I boogie boarded until until long after sunset.

SWIMMING WITH PENGUINS - BOULDERS BEACH

Tuesday - Penguin Day.  We drove down to Boulders Beach as early as we could, trying to beat the crowds and catch the low tide.  At low tide, the beach is literally five times larger than at high tide, and the whole experience is easy and pleasant.  We got the timing just right (for the first time in three years), and had a great few hours swimming with penguins, taking pictures, and playing on the beach.  Boulders is the best.  In the afternoon, we drove up to Kalk Bay, and had a long lunch at Harbor House restaurant, overlooking the fishing pier.  The Indian Ocean waves crash dramatically against the (second-floor) windows of the restaurant, and the seafood is always great.

BIRTHDAY HIKE

Wednesday- for India’s birthday, she wanted to run from Llandudno to Lion’s Head (about 15 kilometers), hike up Lion’s Head, then run to the base of Table Mountain and hike up that.  We dropped off Tallulah to play with her friend Sienna, and a big group of us (including Zola) walked up Lion’s Head.  It was a perfect morning for that hike: sunny and windless.  India ran across to Table Mountain, but it was too crowded for us to get cable car tickets.  Foiled again on that front.  India and I will do both peaks next week, when Cape Town clears out a little bit.

We are having a relaxed rest of the day, boogie boarding at Llandudno beach, preparing a New year’s Eve feast, and generally slowing down for Su and Dave’s last full day in Cape Town.

Happy Birthday, India (the person), and happy new year to all.  This has been a wonderful, interesting, challenging year for all of us.  More of the same in 2009!

Greetings from Cape Town.  My sister and her husband and two sons have been here since Christmas Eve, and we have had a great few days together.  This short post is about what we have been doing.

Yesterday morning, Boxing Day, we made a valiant but ill-fated attempt to climb Table Mountain.  It was windy when we woke up, but nowhere near as bad as many other Cape Town days we have experienced.  Unfortunately, the cable car was closed, so our idea of “climb up, ride down,” didn’t work out.  We walked about two thirds of the way up (about 500 meter climb), but the responsible parents in the group figured we should turn around.  As we shuffled back to the car in the strong wind (Tallulah happily on my shoulders), with the clouds socking in the view from the top, we all agreed that it had been the right call.

On our way to lunch, we stopped at a little carnival, and all of the kids rode the ferris wheel, and did the bungie cord slingshot.  They seemed just as happy with this as an alternative to mountain climbing.

As the wind died down, we spent the late afternoon on the beach.  Zola and his cousin, Andrew, and I swam and bodyboarded in the cold Atlantic.  Everyone else played on the beach and watched a great sunset.

This morning (the 27th) we organized a large group to go down to the Indian Ocean side and go surfing.  The logistics were slightly daunting to me: three families (including our neighbours here in Llandudno), six surf instructors, a 45-minute drive in multiple vehicles, wetsuits and board rentals, and 90-minute lessons in the very choppy water.  It all went off surprisingly smoothly, and everyone seemed to have fun.  Being at the beach in the sunshine makes it all a little easier.

For a late lunch, we sat outside at La Colombe in Constantia, which was just rated the best restaurant in South Africa.  The food was off-the-hook amazing.  The best part, though, is that the restaurant is on a wine farm, with a lot of outdoor space, including a cricket pitch.  We sent all of the kids (plus a few kids from other tables) off to play cricket in the sun, while adults enjoyed peace and fine cuisine.  The kids came back, gobbled down their lunches, and went back out to play.  Very civilized approach to the three-hour lunch.

After a quick visit to our friends, Ryan and Paula, we ended up back down at the beach at Llandudno.  The wind had dropped to nothing, and the water was very calm.  Andrew, Zola and I bodyboarded for about 90 minutes (wetsuits help), and everyone saw another amazing sunset.

We were barely able to get the kids to eat bacon and eggs for dinner, before they fell asleep.  The house was completely still by 10 pm.

South Africa is a great place to be on vacation.  I think that Su and Dave and kids are having a fun time.