Showing posts with label Allison Harvey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Allison Harvey. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Western Desert Egypt, land of camels, oases and the occasional donkey...

Sunset, Western Desert, Egypt
Woke up to the alarm buzzing for the first morning for quite a while, I had slept straight through the call to prayer, although with the campground surrounded my mosques I am still unsure how I managed this!. We headed out of camp on foot bound for Karnak Temple for the 6.30am opening time. As we walked we saw the moon getting ready to set on the opposite bank of the Nile, it was the biggest and yellowiest moon I have seen. Karnak Temple is larger than the other temples we have seen, but does not contain the impressive detail as most of the others. We spent a couple of hours wandering around and taking photos of the 134 huge towering columns and stone sheep carvings then headed back to camp for a breakfast of French toast, nutella and banana and our last shower before Giza, six days away.
Karnak Temple, Luxor
After a quick food shop we headed out into the Western Desert. We were stopped at a lot of police checkpoints on the way out of Luxor, after a few nights of less than desired sleep, I curled up in a ball on the side seat and was out cold under my Maasai blanket quickly, I only woke as I started to get cold...errr, yes I meant to type that, cold. With the canvas sides up and the truck moving at 80km/h things can get pretty chilly in the back sometimes. Shortly after we stopped for lunch on the side of the road, I climbed tot he top of the nearby hill and was surprised at the strange collection of rocks, it was like someone had tipped their rock collection out on the ground. We continued down on of the most scenic roads I have ever experienced, towering limestone (or sandstone) escarpments, cliffs and canyons for about 50km. At the end of the canyon the road flattened out amazingly quickly.
Road weaves through the desert terrain

 Little did anyone in the back know at the time, but we were heading in the wrong direction, north, instead of south west, we were actually on one of the main roads to Cairo and wondering why it was so busy! At one of the intersections we had taken the wrong turn, quite understandable as there are very few signs and most of the signs are in Arabic. After a few more police checkpoints we pulled up on the side of the road for a bush camp, not surprisingly we quickly had a visit from a local, “no English?”, “no Arabic?”, “no English?” we assumed that he wanted either money or didn’t want us to camp there and money... ha ha, no grass, no toilets, no showers, no trees, no water, no money! As Mark had reversed the truck back to pull off the road the mud guard got caught on the tyre and ripped off, the sand was soft so we camped quite close to the road, the traffic went all night! A full moon rose (the real moon variety) and very soon the cameras were out getting photographs, myself cursing the bastard who stole my tripod, yet again! The temperature in the desert dropped away incredibly quickly and very soon we were viewing our travelling companions wearing clothes not yet sighted, I was very excited to pull my striped beanie out of my locker to keep my ears warm. Spencer and I were the only ones to not put the rain cover on the tent; we woke up with damp sleeping bags from dew. With the smell of Spencers ass I wanted as much ventilation as possible!
Sunrise, Western Desert
A 6am start the following morning, it turns out that there are places in Egypt where you can avoid the call to prayer, you just need to get out into the desert! We left camp at 7am heading in the right direction. Ronald had been tracking our direction the day before and had announced that our campsite was the same distance away from the oasis we were heading to as out campsite in Luxor had been!, all part of the adventure and another story for blog readers I say. After driving a few hours we somehow accumulated a police escort, there were four guys with machine guns following behind us in a police vehicle, occasionally using their siren to remind us that they were there. We stopped on the outskirts of a town called El Kharga. Not quite sure what the problem was, Mark went into the tourist information office to sort it out, our police escort then followed us into the centre of town, we did a 540 degree turn through a roundabout, I assume to piss the escort off. Upon parking the truck we realised that our police friends are guarding it for us, a man standing right at the back of the truck with an AK-47. I am getting much more used to seeing guns the further that I travel through Africa, but seeing a machine gun so close to me still has an effect on me. After witnessing the power of an AK-47 in Cambodia when Spencer fired 50 rounds in about 10 seconds it is scary to think that so many young police officers, security guards hold them so complacently on the streets. Spencer and I went for a stroll to find a toilet, he claimed that he was desperate, but kept turning down every available toileting spot, to finally walk a huge lap and end up in the same street. After he returned from his hiding spot in the trees, I ducked around the corner for a wee, it’s all good until I realise that there is a camera aimed at me, then realise it’s my own camera with Spencer holding it! I manage to zip my pants up just as a car drove past, the man behind the wheel looked left, looked right, then swung his head so quick as to give himself a neck injury!, now that’s the meaning of rubbernecking! I have never seen someone move their block so quickly! From there we got two bags of chips and two cornetto ice creams for 5 pound (less than one Aussie dollar), we found a place to sit in the shade to devour our ice cream and were annoyed when we realised that the man who had tried to sell us something (we think) earlier was loitering around us. After looking up to see him staring at me on three separate occasions I flung my arms up in the air in a “what the f&*k” type of expression, not a good idea, then he was over trying to talk to us with a big smile on his face. He didn’t speak any English so had no idea what I was talking about when I told him to stop staring at me and to go away (not in those exact words), we walk back down the street only for him to follow. Spencer had the next go at him, again lost in translation. We were confused as he had nothing apparent to sell and hadn’t asked for money, we had no idea of his purpose. I decided he was a bit loco, but Spencer claimed that he was too well dressed, I decided he was a loco with a very caring mother (he was about 30). On our way back to the truck we stopped at a sweet stall where Mark and Kyle were buying something, we got a huge candy/toffee like Frisbee thing, walking away from the stall we see the man who had been following us again! Spencer waved him on his way and we continue on our merry way back tot he truck which is now guarded by about 10 men with guns. We figure a game of scrabble is in order and set up the board on the footpath, much to the amusement of passing traffic. After pomegranate, chocolate and cheese for lunch Jen, Jules and I were leading thanks to some great words like ferment and quin the local police arrive in even greater numbers and we are ushered to the police station, with about 20 tiles left to play we were sitting out the front of the police station whilst Mark was inside registering our details, the scrabble board had been carefully picked up and the game continued on the top of the esky in the back of the truck. The police escort followed us out of town, still sounding the occasional siren. We stopped on the outskirts of town so some people could have a swim in an irrigation channel with suspect floaters which looked remarkably like poo on the top. I declined a swim, immersing myself in poo water surrounded by armed Arab men and men armed with mobile phones with cameras didn’t really seem inviting! Spencer went in and smelt suspiciously like poo afterwards! Whilst sitting in the truck I realise that the man who was following us was sitting just outside the truck, with the police. Turns out he is an undercover tourist police, following us around to make sure we were safe and sound, and he was armed. Now I can say that I have sworn at an armed Arabic man in Africa and lived to blog the tale. My suggestion to the tourist police is to get ID cards made up to show the tourists that they are protecting exactly who they are. The only time I have felt uncomfortable in Egypt was because of the people who are there to protect me! We drove for a couple of hours still being followed by five armed police officers behind us, we made a bush camp behind a mobile phone tower and our police friends parked up behind us. They then left to head back into town for food and gear to sleep the night. After a ‘what would you do if you heard gunshots coming towards the truck and you were in the desert?’ type conversation over dinner (most people put down to run for the hills, despite the raging full moon that was leaving shadows across the land). I took some night shots of the truck and phone tower.

Camp by the mobile phone tower, you can see our police escort vehicle behind the truck
                                     
We woke up in the middle of the night to hear a car slow down on the highway and then pull off the road, I looked out of the tent to see lights pulling up two meters behind the truck. The occupants of the car got out and were standing around the truck holding a very loud conversation in Arabic. By this stage I am starting to plan what I am going to take for my evacuation into the desert if the situation declines. Eventually the second car leaves and the following day we discover that the original police escort abandoned us sometime during the night, ‘what the?...’ The next morning we stopped at a town called Mut, which had an old abandoned section of town.

Old Town, Mut
We went for a stroll through the ramshackle assortment of mud brick and straw houses that had been abandoned. We climbed to the top of one of the houses with a local man in tow who insisted that we come to his house for tea, with no time for tea before the truck left we declined the offer, he instead walked us back through the maze of alleyways to the truck. I used the toilet near the truck, only to be surprised by a local boy bathing in a green wheelie bin in the female toilets! Hilarious! Burbs was on cook group by himself that night, to speed the sightseeing process up so he had time for shopping, we had seen him sprinting through the old town with his camera out in front taking photos as he sped through. We continued on our way, stopping at Mut Well 3 for a swim in a hot spring at a hotel. The water was very brown and all our togs were filthy afterwards, but the water was warm and the closest thing any of us will get to a shower for six days. A man from the hotel was trying to sell us beers for 25 pound, they are usually about 8! You can buy 25 falafel burgers for 25 pound! After drying off we clambered back into the truck and continued down the road, passing some magnificent but barren mountains with not a scrap of foliage on them. We also passed some irrigated areas which were oddly green in the dry desert. We stopped at El Mozawaka tombs which is a small hill with tombs dug into it. You could look in and see bodies in the tombs, some had several in each and others were so close to the entrance that you could reach in and touch them if so inclined.

Spencer tries to pose as a photographer....he didn't fool anybody!
Untamed Outback...appropriate!

The following morning we stopped in a town called Farafar to buy lunch and for food group shopping. We continued onto some calcium carbonate formations in the desert, some photos and a game of Frisbee, we followed the backtrack for a while longer, seeing more stone formations and lots of alabaster laying on the side of the road.

Calcium carbonate formations, Western Desert
Burbs with his best Arab pose on!
Spencer and myself, Western Desert
Lunch time

The sand on the road was pretty soft in spots and eventually we came across a permanent tented camp with a swimming pool (there was not a drop of water or tree anywhere for miles). The man at the camp told us we would not be able to continue on the road in the truck, so we turned and made our way back tot he highway. We stopped in an area which was a petrified forest, we found many strange rocks and some petrified wood, some of which looks like petrified mangrove roots. With the calcium carbonate in the soil it was almost impossible to take your sunglasses off; to do so would be inviting snow blindness. That night we made camp in the White Desert Natural Preserve, which is full of white domes, which remind me of a smaller, white version of the bungle bungles in Western Australia, as we had driven past a police patrol and were not sure if camping was allowed we waited until after dark to put our tents up or fully unload the truck. A few of us went for a walk whilst waiting for the sun to set, we headed east and were surprised to find lots of other people camping nearby, complete with camels!   

Corrogated road, White Desert Natural Preserve
Fisheye view of the White Desert

Myself, White Desert Natural Preserve

Other campers, White Desert
White Desert Natural Preserve

The Saffa brothers, White Desert

While packing up the following morning I almost fell over in the dish water that had been discarded, it had turned the ground more slippery than Teflon! Again I blamed my crocs and relived my ‘almost toilet disaster’ where my right foot slipped out from beneath me and the only thing that saved me from remaining, to this day, in splits position on the toilet floor was the fact that my pants were around my knees and therefore saved my legs from adopting the full splits position! We made a stop for lunch and cook group, chocolate pudding with last nights leftovers, awesome! I had been looking forward to Son’s chocolate pudding since Ethiopia! We stopped at a cultural museum which turned out to be a very weird place, no entry price signs, no person there a head of clay statues that people wanted to buy but the man kept saying they were not for sale, there were lots of rooms set up in a traditional manner and all made from clay. We were not sure if the man was trying to charge us money as we left, he seemed unable to produce a price for our five minute wander through the gallery. When we were climbing onto the truck he was hurriedly shouting Arabic into his phone, we assume trying to get the owner o the place there to sort things out, we were long gone....We continued down the road, upsetting more locals; after stopping and walking over to some old roman ruins, three opportunists followed us over trying to extract money from us by saying that the ruins were on property owned by them...yeah right! And besides, you would have more luck in squeezing blood out of a stone than money out of a group of people who have not worked for at least six months!  They were persistent, following us right over to the truck and still asking for money as we were driving off! Sitting in the truck with people asking for money is common practice over here anyway! (I will point out that there was no ticket booth, fences, signs or anything at this site, the information that we had also said it was free).

Old Roman Ruins

That night we set up camp near another mobile phone tower, again, right on cue, a local man arrived to check out proceedings, but strangely, he didn’t want money and was happy for us to camp there! After dinner, before the long awaited chocolate pudding Kyle, Kenji, Gab and I wandered over to the train line. Ronald had used his blackberry earlier to look up the train timetable, but found that there were only freight trains on no set timetable that day (Ronald has become the truck librarian, finding out cricket scores, locations, train timetables and scrabble dictionary contents!) Armed with Canon cameras and me with a camp stool as a tripod (again cursing the bastard who has my tripod, hope they have poked out an eye with it) We take a couple of shots down the lines, talk some camera talk, all interesting stuff like f-stops, aperture, ISO’s etc etc, then we see a light up the track and think that ‘just maybe’ its a train, I look and announce it’s just a truck on the road, nope the ‘chuf, chuf, chuf, chuf’ sound does it, it’s a train, “cripes, I have a fish eye lens on and I’m in the desert, at night with a train coming!”, after contemplating allowing huge amounts of sand onto my sensor by changing lenses, I decide that without a proper tripod my photos are probably going to be pretty ordinary anyhow, so I leave the fisheye on. (a fisheye lens is a very wide angle view, meaning that it can capture a photo of almost 180 degree view, making everything look much smaller than it is in real life, still don’t understand...imaging the complete opposite of a telephoto zoom lens) A quick 30 second discussion about settings and who is going to do what and we are set up, staggered along the tracks about 2m from the expected train. I have always believed that trains create a sucking effect as they pass and tell everyone to secure their lens caps, as the train approaches we hear a man on the train yelling something to us, then we get blasted with sand...remember we are in the Western Desert of Egypt. I still wonder what the crew on the train must have thought when they saw us there, possibly assumed we were bandits! We had a variety of shots, all at different settings, but none compared to seeing the train barrelling through the desert in the middle of the night unexpectedly! After all 80 odd carriages pass it’s then time to compare our shots and then head back to the truck to clean off our beloved Canon cameras...gee I keep good company, only thing that would have made it better would have been Dranspaddock there with her Canon camera (and if I had a proper tripod!).

Kenji takes a long exposure photo of a passing freight train, Western Desert
What better place to lay on train tracks for a photo (this was after the train had passed!)
Downloading photos with the electricity from the phone tower, Western Desert....true Untamed Outback Images style!

After  the sand has been eliminated from our pride and joys it’s time for chocolate pudding, complete with fresh strawberries and cream, awesome! Pudding was even better than last time and completed a great day in style! After dinner it was announced that when we arrive in Giza we will be having a full truck clean, everything, absolutely everything, out of the truck and clean. Following that announcement was another, that the following day would also be ‘no swear day’ to raise money for movember, Jen’s response “what? On truck cleaning day?” ‘No swear day?’ hmmm, now that’s a problem for me at the moment, it’s been far too long since I spent a day in a work place or with my mother (Hi Mum, love you!) that my swearing is out of control. I get out of the tent and my first word is a swear word!, at five pounds a word and no income, I announce a vow of silence for the day! (Yeah, those of you who know me, know that I have even less chance of achieving that as I do of not swearing or summiting Mt Everest without oxygen wearing a bikini). Mark paid a 200 pound “all you can swear pass” and was throwing words about, the rest of us couldn’t afford 200 pounds for the luxury of unlimited profanities so had to keep them in check. I did notice a wider use of the English language that day! We drove through fog into Giza, the fog cleared to show smog! We stopped at a service station to get the chassis of the truck pressure sprayed then headed into our campsite, seeing a decapitated horse floating in the drain. 20 million people (only two million less than the whole of Australia) live in Cairo and traffic is crazy!, every road appears to be a one way street so we ended up doing a few laps to get to the campsite. On the way we got our first glance at the pyramids, ‘crickey, they are big!’ After aspiring to see the pyramids since I was about 12, I was prepared to be disappointed, but I was able to announce that I was impressed already! We had a bit of time for lunch before truck cleaning started...errr, or should I say the bitch and whinge fest! From where I was scrubbing and cleaning everyone looked to be getting right in and doing a good job, but there are some people who will find fault at anything that some people do...emphasis on the ‘some’. I put my head down and scrubbed and seemed to avoid any shrapnel. It was a bloody big job, when it was said that ‘everything’ came out oft he truck, it was no kidding. Even the seats were removed and scrubbed, all the food items were washed, sugar, tea and spice containers emptied and washed then refilled, cutlery, plates etc, pots were scrubbed back to silver. It is good to use clean gear again, I am glad that there are no dusty roads between Cairo and Istanbul! Afterwards most people indulged in a beer, ‘no swear day’ appeared to be over so we all indulged in a tad of swearing and I had a soft drink! Yay! After the drinks it was time for a shower, the first in six days, heaven!

Truck cleaning day
The following morning we headed to the pyramids, upon arrival the truck was thoroughly searched and we had to walk in through security and meet the truck on the inside. The saffa brothers decided to get on their Arab get-up and before we could say ‘Arabs’ the whole truck were reinvented as Arabs, I have to say that it just completed my pyramid experience to see all of us dressed up! We wandered around the great pyramid (Cheops) which is the largest at 146m, followed by the pyramid of Khafre (Chephren) which is the one you see with part of the limestone veneer still intact. It is smaller than Chephren, but is sits on higher ground so looks taller.  The inside of a pyramid is hot and stuffy and incredibly narrow. After entering the passage way drops away sharply and is enough to invite claustrophobia. There were no paintings like inside the tombs and all the artefacts have since been moved to the Cairo museum or to other museums around the world. It’s impressiveness is in the mass of small tunnels designed to trick any tomb robbers and the awareness of millions of tonnes of bricks over your head! We got back on the truck and drove up to the viewing point, now I thought that the truck attracted a lot of attention before... but  that’s nothing compared to the attention an overland truck full of Arab impersonators at the Great Pyramids of Giza attracts! At the viewing point we were aware of some people taking photos of us instead of the pyramids! We then made our way down to the sphinx; only half of it is open for viewing so it was a push and shove fest to bustle your way into a position to get a photo. Tour guides really need to sort their s&*t out and not decide to talk to a group of 50 people in a doorway, blocking the other 100 people a minute wanting to get through that doorway!. The Sphinx was not as impressive as I had imagined it to be, maybe I should have viewed it before the pyramids, at 20 odd meters high, it’s a short ass compared to a 146m pyramid! The sphinx really needs his nose back, Napoleons army shot it off and now its in the British museum...send it back! Selleys should sponsor the glue to stick the honker back on!

AK (Adam Kennedy) and Spencer at Giza
Myself and Spencer, Arab style
Spencer and myself infront of the second pyramid
Getting back on the truck
Hendrick, Spencer, Myself, AK, Burbs, Son, Kenji and Ronald at the pyramids lookout
Ronald, Burbs and Spencer, Giza

 Spencer was on cook group that night; he whipped up veggie burgers that most of the carnivores preferred over the beef variety. The following morning we had an early start for the short drive into Cairo, mainly to avoid the traffic and also to ensure there was a parking spot (or three consecutive ones) in the car park where the truck will be parked up for the four days we will be in Cairo. Even early in the morning the traffic was ridiculous, the truck did some pruning of the trees down a couple of side streets. Our hotel is good, on the ninth floor above KFC, opposite the train station and over the road from the museum. Spencer and I headed off to get some supplies, after checking the museum opening times and turning down many, many taxis we cross the Nile on foot, about the 30th time we have crossed the Nile in the past three months. We took the train down to the main train station to book tickets to Alexandria in a few days time, what an experience!, the station is undergoing renovations and the ticket counted has been moved, we had to find the tourist police to ask where it was as most of the signs were in Arabic, we find the ticket office (we had previously walked into it but not realised we were in the right place) We line up at one counter and wait, then are surprised and pleased to find that the man behind the glass speaks English, he directs us to the next counter, we wait at the next counter until he man who pushed in front of us is served and then are redirected back tot he original counted, again we wait till the rude bastard who has pushed in (honestly there is nothing bar physical violence, that you can do against a huge Egyptian man wearing a suit who pushes in front of you) So we are then redirected back to the other counter, ‘what the?’ No, we are directed two counters up! With the interpretive help of a local man we buy our tickets, all written in Arabic! It shall be interesting trying to find the right platform! We get the train back to our stop but decide to ride the trains for a bit, what the hell, our ticket cost all of 20 Aussie cents, lets get full value out of it! Depending where the train was on the line would depend on the amount of people on it. Riding Egyptian trains when they are empty is great, when they are full is not so great, 90% of the inhabitants are males and 100% of them are sleazy, even the kids! Damage done; one old man knocked for six by both myself and then Spencer, hey I was going out the exit door, he was attempting to barge in before I had left the train, he deserved everything he got! 3 boys got ‘the bird’ from both Spencer and I and five young boys were ignored for their stupidity and massacring of the English language. One helpful man shunned as we had had enough by that stage! We then go searching for a card reader, after over 50 shops (Spencer sitting beside me claims it was 200!) I find one, and a tripod! Spencer had not been at all in favour of me buying another tripod that was anything less than perfect or anything cheaper than super-expensive as he claims that he is sick of hearing me bitch and whinge about substandard tripods....well I was going to wait till I got home for a great one, but I feel like I have a brand new BMW in my tripod (compared to resting a ridiculously expensive camera on a camp stool) and will make sure never to whinge about it’s short comings (at least in Spencers earshot!) we then attempt to find the truck, not as easy as we thought, round and round in circles, my feet aching from carrying my camera bag and tripod miles and miles, we arrive back at the hotel after way too may km’s and way too many people trying to extract coin out of us and after one man telling us to ‘walk like an Egyptian’, I mean what the? No one in Egypt walks like that!  
Today we spent the morning at the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities, when lonely planet described it as having too many artefacts, I didn’t take too much notice, but there simply are too many artefacts! Over 100,000! It put me more in mind of a storage shed than a museum. We paid the extra to go into the royal mummies room, looking upon a 3000+ year old mummy is a weird experience. From there we checked out Tutankhamen’s treasures, another weird time, I vaguely remember seeing the Tutankhamen exhibition at the Melbourne museum when I was a kid, I don’t think I understood much about him at the time, but remember being amazed at the funary mask. Seeing it again on the other side of the world so many years on seemed surreal.  Spencer feels that they possibly would have used a copy for the exhibition in Melbourne, shall have to research that one!  Seeing so many artefacts has me in a mixed mind about the Cairo museum, way too much Egyptian history in one place, just imagine if the museum was destroyed? The reason it is all there was originally to protect if from tomb robbers, however so many of the statues and stone work could be returned to the temples, especially Karnak, which I said earlier appeared to me missing the finer details, well it is, they are all in the museum in Cairo!
Toilet break, Western Desert
Truck waits for us as Crystal Mountain, Western Desert

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Donkeys, Dust and Goat Chops with Spiced Tea in Sudan

We were up and loaded into local minivans for the drive up to the mountains from Gondar, for our morning of trekking, after an hours drive on dusty roads we arrived and were quickly surrounded by local villagers. We hiked through some spectacular scenery, clinging to the sides of mountains with little foliage to stop us should we slip. We were lucky to see some Columbus monkeys, which reminded us of the black and white ruffled lemurs in Madagascar. These monkeys were jumping down from trees to the ground, about 20 meters! Then running to the next tree! The 10 of us were soon walking with about 50 local people, many of these young kids with the sole aim of earning a tip from helping the ‘white people’ over the terrain that they were just not designed to! Honestly I was getting a bit huffy at being dragged up slopes that I could easily managed by myself, I was thinking “I am white, but I know how to walk!” We sat and watched baboons running in the distance and strolled through young kid’s herding goats and cows. The scenery was spectacular; I am still amazed at the landscape of Ethiopia, mountainous, green and rocky in some areas with incredibly abrupt cliffs and escarpments. We returned back to the vans and were surrounded by our initial ‘friends’ and then some more! On the drive back our driver seemed intent on sitting right behind the other van making us breath dust for an hour, we had thought that he didn’t speak English, but after a couple of comments between ourselves about the dust he dropped off slightly.
Spencer and I headed back to our favourite cafe for lunch, today it was fruit punch; layers of mango, avocado, papaya and strawberry juice, so thick that the straw was useless and the spoon was the instrument of choice! Followed by a soft drink (it was hot walking) followed by chips and tomato salad, this seemed incredibly light on tomato and incredibly heavy on onion and chilli. After I had put all of this into my stomach I forced a tiramisu in for good measure and waddled out, not before watching a 1990’s episode of friends which has some weird ass stuff happening to the voices!
From there he hired tuk-tuks to the Dashen brewery for our free brewery tour, we were very excited, but this didn’t last long, brewery tours don’t run on Sundays! After talking kindly to the lady we were able to meet the manager, who organised for a staff member to come out from town to conduct the tour. As the staff member had to be summoned there was a delay and time to be filled, in the bar, in the form of two 3lt beer towers between the 8 of us. When the tour started we were told that our cameras would need to be ‘minded’ by the security. As I have a huge mistrust of security guards of any description in any country I offered to stay at the bar with all the cameras, (there was some serious camera gear, too serious to be left with any security guard, especially at a brewery!) I had two beers and had acquired three Ethiopian ‘friends’ by the time everyone else returned from the tour, I was also quite on my way to being drunk.  We were intent on drinking our remaining Ethiopian Birr before crossing the border into Sudan the next day, this occurred easily! We had a great night with good conversation and company in a fantastic beer garden, which you just wouldn’t expect to find anywhere outside of a capital city of a developed country!
The following morning was a world of hurt and pain for me and a few others, bendy and bumpy roads in the heat and about three hours at the border are not fun on a hang-over!
About thirty kilometres short of the Ethiopia – Sudan border we were pushed forward by the truck slowing down, then felt two bumps as the back wheels went over something. A few of the blokes stuck their heads out to see a fully grown goat and a younger goat go under the wheels of the truck, two days later they were still talking about how the mother goat’s stomach split from the impact and a baby goat popped out. I was never so glad that I didn’t look out the side of the truck, I quite like goats, but they are not so smart...as these two proved, they just didn’t move off the road even though that had a 18t truck bearing down on them with the air horn screaming!
We didn’t think that would be the end of the goat issue, we stopped for lunch just before the border as Spencer and I came back to the truck we saw Mark sitting in the cab arguing with some police officers with the crowd of locals swelling by the minute. The farmer had gone straight to the cops and they had followed us down the road. Initially they wanted $300 USD as compensation for the goats; he eventually got this down to $50 USD per goat, we were not sure if the baby goat was counted as a third goat or not. As the police were not going to let us out of Ethiopia, the fine was paid.  The cops get about half of the money for their troubles and the farmer gets the rest. Mark was unable to make the police officers understand that had he smashed on the brakes that we would have been seriously hurt in the back as there are no seatbelts, he asked the police officers if the farmer would have paid him had one of us been hurt in avoiding the goats! The ‘food group’ (people cooking that nights dinner) felt that for $100 USD we should have been able to keep the carcasses, they were well tenderised!
We have no problems at all exiting Ethiopia, no forms to fill out, just a ½ hour wait in the emigration office, (which was air conditioned, much to everyone’s delight!) then we walk over the border to the Sudan side. Again a very loose border, I believe that you would have little issue in strolling through without the official documentation, however I am sure I would not want to be caught trying it! First stop over the border is the money changer, not the official one, just one in a mud and dung hut, but he was offering such a rate that there was no bartering required! We were under the impression that we had to pay for our registration in Sudan at the border; however we later found out that we now pay in the capital Khartoum (equivalent of $50 USD, so the officials can look after us whilst in the country).  Next stop was a ‘bunnings’ style garden shed to get out passports bio and visa page photocopied, after waiting for this we take on the immigration office, standing by the desk in some form of line, not knowing where we need to stand, if there is a line, or what the process is! There are about 30 odd locals waiting patiently in chairs, we were served ahead of them, not sure if it was just so the official could clear away the mass of foreigners from his desk! So after making some form of a line, out passports and photocopies are requested and looked at, then a form stapled to it, we fill out the form and line up again to hand it back, then they are shuffled left, shuffled right, then left again before being stamped three times, “bang, bang, bang” (must be the most enjoyable part of the day for a border official!) And we are told to go to customs. Finding customs was not as easy as we assumed it would be, it was a hundred meters up the road, in a wire mesh building with absolutely no signage, there were hotels and shops and I think a jail between the two buildings.  I tried to walk into every building between the two! Once there we wait and answer our names etc etc then we are free to go. Back in the truck we realise that we are going nowhere fast, the truck’s engine number could not be found, despite a large crowd of officials, passengers and onlookers surrounding the upturned cab! Four hours after arriving at the border and after phone calls to Tanzania, we were off, but not before I had wandered into the streets behind the border in search of bananas, a friendly local shopkeeper assigned a guide to show me where to buy them (no payment required, he wouldn’t even accept a banana!) I looked at a table and wondered what all the black lumpy stuff on it was, and then a kid waved his arm over the black mass which was moving to show that the whole table was covered in offal and meat cuts which were swarmed with flies! (I was super glad that I don’t eat land animals at this time, and there was not a fish in sight!)
It was amazing to see that after the border crossing the land changed dramatically again, we bid farewell to the hills and green scenery of Ethiopia and hello to dusty and sandy plains. We bush camped very close to the highway, I was surprised at the amount of traffic all night, many fuel tankers, busses and other trucks rolling along for most of the night and the occasional traditionally dressed man on a motorbike with robes flowing behind!. Just before dinner a local farmer herded his cattle through camp, and again the next morning after breakfast.
We all slept with the rain covers off the tents as it was very warm, I didn’t even take my sleeping bag off the truck (it’s infested with something still anyway, but more about that later) About five in the morning it started getting light, I was dozing and heard someone walk through camp, just assuming that it was one of our fellow travellers, they almost walked into our tent and I heard a ‘ohh’ sort of sound, then I noticed that there was no zipper sound of someone crawling back into a tent and realised that it must have been a local quite surprised to find a bunch of campers in his grazing area. I was telling someone else this on the truck the next day; she confirmed a strange being near out tent as she was camped next to us.
This was also the site of some of the worst ‘tentering’ (a word Spencer made up when tongue tied, whilst trying to make out that he was more experienced at putting up tents and therefore better, than I, and we all know that’s just not true!) So that night I go to crawl into bed and there is something under the tent, it’s sitting up at least 20 cm on my side of the tent (yes we have his and hers sides of the tent (now called ‘territories own”) So I ask what it is, to hear “must be grass”..hmm, there is f&*k sweet all grass around here, just thorns and those ‘bindi’ type prickles that go straight through the soles of most footwear! So I punch the object, it hurts my hand, but feels spiky and I announce that it was a hedgehog...not cool, apparently (yes, I was joking! There are about as many hedgehogs in Sudan as there are tigers in Africa!). So I get my clothes back on and get out to lift the tent to find a rock that was the size of a football under my side of the tent! This gave everyone a bit of a giggle the next morning!
The next day just got hotter and hotter, peaking, officially at 39 degrees, a thermometer on the truck broke after hitting 50 degrees, at 8pm in Khartoum it was still 31 degrees, I log onto facebook to see that Megan is in Darwin wearing a ‘slopy joe’ and is freezing her ass off! The UK people are struggling and I was feeling like I was back in Darwin, the expected low was for 28 degrees!
To take photographs in Sudan you need a photography permit, if you are caught with a camera and don’t have this permit you are arrested. The only issue is that you can only get this permit in Khartoum, two days drive! There is nothing like seeing your first fully grown man in white flowing robes riding at full pace across the desert on a DONKEY! And not being able to snap a picture!
Drinking as also prohibited in Sudan (a few of the blokes on the truck are a bit happy about this after two weeks worth of 25 cent beer indulgence in Ethiopia!), if you are caught with alcohol you are arrested, the truck can be stopped anywhere are searched. We were stopped at a number of checkpoints during the day, the first one the official was standing beside the truck shouting ‘passports’ at us, he didn’t even appear to wear a uniform, after checking these closely we were away, our passports now in the cab to speed the process up for the following checkpoints, I think we passed about 10 for the day, although they are a pain in the ass and slow you down, they are used to make sure that trucks etc get to where they are supposed to, on the west coast the police went looking for the truck after it failed to make it through the next checkpoint as they had made a bush camp for the night!
Before lunch my brand new hat (I’d literally worn it for a few hours ,seems the story of my life of late!) blew off my head and out the side of the truck, before I’d realised that it was out of the truck we were well down the road. The hat cost about 10 birr per hour of use that I had out of the thing! So disappointing though, I have been looking to buy a new hat since Cape Town, and finally found one that I liked, I’d only had it a day!
The people of Sudan are incredibly friendly, and seem truly pleased to see foreigners visiting their country. My arm is close to worn out after returning waves at adults, elderly and kids all eager to see us! Driving into Khartoum was interesting, we were hoping not for an accident to occur by one of the drivers straining to look up into the truck and not watching the road! When we stopped for falafel and spiced tea for lunch the spiced tea lady didn’t have change of a 10 pound note, the tea was one pound. A man nearby offered to pay for me (he was an old man, not a sleazy one!) saying “I pay for your tea as you are my guest in this country” As one pound is quite a bit of coin for the average Sudanese (and about 40 cents to us), I went and got some change and took it back, thanking him and shaking his hand, he laughed saying “you are very intent on paying!’. Spiced tea is delicious, so good that most of us were drinking it hot even in 40 degree heat!, I was planning a business venture for ‘iced spiced tea’ distribution, surely there is a market for it here!
Sudan has more of a Middle East feel to it than African, you see men in white flowing robes wandering through desert like surroundings, or riding on camels or on the back of a donkey that is pulling a crudely made water cart. Ladies covered from head to toe in dark coloured robes. Tuk-tuks are in abundance, and are also very abundantly decorated, I even saw one with the wheel caps like of grease (you know the ones that cut into the bodywork of the other car!) I think Sudan is going to take over from Ethiopia as my second favourite African country (Madagascar still sitting high at number one!)
We arrive in Khartoum to find that the “National Camping Residence” (who would have thought they would have such a thing?) was full and overflowing, so we move closer into the city to the Blue Nile Sailing Club, which feels like we have just pitched our tents in the Darwin Trailer Boat Club! (Instead of the ocean we have the convergence of the Blue and White Nile’s as out waterfront view!) The added bonus was a free, drinkable and COLD water fountain! Heaven! And free wifi internet, soon all laptops were out and discussion lulled as people stuck their heads into news from home, facebook, emails and other random tasks.
Khartoum is a very modern city by African standards, the outskirts of it put me in mind of how I imagine Dubai to be, lush golf courses and some flashy apartment blocks rise from desert like surroundings, having a city on the Nile means lots of irrigation water for crops. As oil was discovered about 10 years ago, there is a lot of ‘new’ money in Sudan; it will be interesting to see if the crime rate increases as the gap between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ increases. We have felt safer in Sudan than any other African country, it’s hard to believe that it is listed by smart traveller as a ‘do not travel’ destination, most of the problem is in the south of Sudan, which we are not going to and centres on the south of Sudan wanting to become independent of the rest of Sudan, but as the oil is in the south, it’s not really in Sudan’s best interest to let the south ‘take the oil and run’. There is a referendum planned for early 2011, and violence is expected in the lead up to that, we will be out of Sudan in nine days time, well before the referendum. You can easily walk in the city without being hassled for money, so far I have only had three people ask for money in three days in Sudan, you would have three a minute in some other countries! Everyone that we meet just seems so genuinely friendly!
We found out that our house is still empty...gurgle, gurgle, gurgle of money down the drain! Although we did hear that two different people have put in application forms, so here’s hoping someone moves in soon, we dropped the rent by $40 a week, just to get anyone in the place!
The next morning some people headed off to the ‘Alien registration office’, no s^&t, that’s it’s official name!, it’s the office where you have to register if you are a foreigner in the country, and pay $50USD! I went along with the food group to find the supermarket, a magical mystery tour in its own right. Khartoum is a city with quite obvious ‘new’ money, lots of electrical shops and mobile phone shops, but nothing that even resembled a supermarket. We asked lots and lots of people for directions, each one a contradiction of the other, until we found an American girl who was happy to walk us to a local market. Whilst the food people bartered for bread and vegetables myself and Jules sat down on mini stools with a man peeling onions, they put the vegetables on the sales stands pre-peeled, he told us that they sell better that way as they look better, it is also common practice to cut the bottoms off carrots, but not the tops. The man tells us that he has been to Australia to play football! Two white women sitting without our heads covered in the market in Khartoum attracted quite a bit of attention from the surrounding people! From there we went to source falafel, 144 pieces for 12 Sudanese pound, or around $5 AUD, after looking at the falafel through the barter process we decided to have lunch there, it was so delicious that we went back and ordered the same again! From there we took our bags of food and tried to find a taxi who knew where the Blue Nile sailing club was, we had read that the taxi drivers here didn’t know where anything was, it was spot on. With us directing him we push our way through intersections with 40 odd eggs loose on a tray balanced on Ish’s lap, with cars coming at us from all directions! Spencer and a couple of the blokes went for a swim in the ‘club’ next door to where we are staying, the man demanded to know how they knew there was a pool at the place, then charged 10 pounds and hour for swimming, so $4 each hour! Females are not allowed to swim, no even fully clothed! (Not happy Jan!) So I am sitting here in my long pants drinking copious amounts of water with all the other females.
And I’ll just finish with a Sudanese toilet story...(just for s&*ts and giggles) So I was squatting happily behind a nice small tree on the side of the road, feeling a million miles away from civilisation and about a hundred meters away from my travelling companions, just taking my time and enjoying the scenery, when I hear singing and hooves and before I can move anywhere a man rides past on his donkey, singing at the top of his lungs with his white robes flowing behind him! (Only in Sudan!)
Oops! Forgot about the bed bug infestation that has taken over the truck...the communal blankets that travel on the beach have been binned, the cushions etc were all taken out and sprayed, we have strict instructions from Mark to wash our sleeping gear and clothes whilst in Khartoum, people with down sleeping bags were just not keen for this and put them in a black plastic bag in the 40 degree sun to kill any unwanted visitors!, one casualty of the de-bugging was a sleeping bag was ‘accidentally’ thrown out by the staff here, quite ironic that is the US citizen who they were originally not going to let into Sudan! Searching high and low did not produce the sleeping bag!

Saturday, October 30, 2010


Monastry, Lake Tana, Bahir Dar


Monastry, Bahir Dar


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Rock-Hewn Churches, Castles and "The Flea Bag"

We were up early, packed our tents up (so that we would not have to pay a tent fee, apparently it costs money to leave an empty tent up!) and waited for our transfer to Lalibela. As we were not going to have a great deal of time at the rock hewn churches (which are a UNESCO world heritage site) we were getting pretty cranky when the driver had not turned up by 7.30am, half an hour later we were still standing outside the hotel waiting, waiting, waiting, the mood amongst the group was not very positive by this stage, the transport organiser at the hotel was saying ‘he is right here, he is just here’ pointing at the driveway, we told him to come back at 6.30am the following day and he would have a job. He was also told to make sure he fuelled up and sorted himself out before 6.30 tomorrow. Instead we spent the day visiting a couple of monasteries on Lake Tana, the first was on a small island, and was not as grand as we had all pictured, however did have some amazing artwork inside. From there we headed further onto the lake in our old and leaky boat, equipped with a 25 horsepower outboard and not a bilge pump in sight! I watched the water level beneath our feet gradually rise, but it didn’t get above the crude floor boards and I never thought that I was going to have to swim for it! The second monastery was very different from the first as it is still a working monastery, circular in shape with a centre atrium with more amazing paintings in it. Whilst everyone else was having a tour I wandered off to snap off 100 or so photos, from there we cruised slowly to the outlet of the Blue Nile from Lake Tana, where we saw a hippo frolicking in the water. We arrived back at the campground (grounds of a hotel) in time for a quick lunch and to book the bus to Blue Nile Falls, about 30km or an hours drive out of town. Lonely planet didn’t rate the falls, but some of the guys from the truck had been the day before and had some great photos, we were initially impressed by the sound of the falls, not quite Victoria falls, but looked quite similar, but like a ‘minime’ version of them. We took the option of the long walk around, involving a couple of hours walk, a river crossing on foot, and a boat crossing back to the start. Most of the way we were hassled by local kids asking for money, sweets, pen, exercise books and empty water bottles. If it was not the kids at us it was the kids mothers trying to sell us shawls, necklaces, tea. Flutes or just blatantly ask for money! One kid tried to make me pay to take a photo with a donkey in it, another girl asked me for money because I had taken a photo of a canola crop and a boy tried getting money out of me for patting a donkey in the street! (don’t think I have ever patted a donkey before, but they are really soft, or maybe this one just uses Pantene).

The following day we were up for porridge and pack our tents away AGAIN (after re-erecting our tents in the same place the previous day we were adamant that the tardy driver should have to put them up for us!), ready to get on the van to Lalibela. The driver had obviously received a fair ass kicking from the previous days aborted trip and was waiting for us at 5.30am, however when the clock ticked over to 6.30am he was nowhere to be found! Ten minutes later he arrived back and then started stuffing around, 20 minutes later we were one our way, but not before we all had to pay an extra 10birr as someone only put in 200birr instead of 300birr, now this put me in a shitty mood that lasted the best part of two days. Everyone in the van is in the same position, no income, so if you cannot afford to travel, don’t travel! Don’t just expect other people to subsidise your travel (we have fallen on the shit end of the stick quite a few times with travel, people not paying for meals, drinks etc! Making me cranky!) We head out of town and it does not take long to realise that our driver thinks he is a race car driver, not a Toyota van driver and also seems to have only a small part of his incredibly small 12 year old brain, in reality. He thinks it’s perfectly alright to swerve towards pedestrians, put his arm out the window and hit them on the head! And travel on mountain passes at 130km/h. I had realised that we were going far to fast, but the bloke beside me had a GPS and told me that we had hit over 130km/h, on some of the highest roads, possibly in the world, 3500mts asl, with considerable drop offs on each side. We somehow reach Lalibela alive, some of the pedestrians must have been surprised to survive the white van careening and screaming through their villages at 130km/h, one mother grabbed her kids off the road in the nick of time! We book into a hostel where the room costs $7AUD a night, no signs of bedbug marks on the walls and has a hot shower, then we head off to a local cafe for lunch, we find someone in Africa who will do something for nothing, a local guide walks us down to the site of the rock-hewn churches (we still have no lonely planet) We pay the increased price of 350 birr (up from 100 birr) to enter the site, to be disappointed by the huge covers which have been erected over the churches to protect them from the elements (I wondered if they were erected to increase the value of all the photos already taken of the site as now it is impossible to get a decent photo without them in it!) We declined having a guide as I just wanted to wander around and find my own way and take my own photos without having to look interested in what a guide was saying. The rock hewn churches of Lalibela have been carved out of solid rock, so they sit underground. It is amazing to think that 900 years ago they were dug out from underground so that each entire church is carved from one rock! All the churches are connected by a myriad of alleyways and tunnels and there are countless doorways which lead to other areas and into small abodes. We were climbing our way in the dark up a small passageway with crude carved steps when the bell above us sounded almost causing us to fall back down the rock steps, then a man poked his head out from behind a curtain and beckoned us to climb a stick ladder hanging over the stairs into the area behind the curtain where he was sitting. I was no easy feat with camera strapped around neck and backpack on back and looking down the steps to where you would fall should the ladder collapse! But a couple of minutes later we were sitting on goatskins in this mans living room area, the living room was no higher than a meter and was about 2 metres by 2 meters, decorated with religious paraphernalia. He showed us his sleeping quarters and area no larger than a single bed and about 1 meter high attached to his living area. Then we had a tour through his paraphernalia and he read something in Amharic from his bible, minutes later we were attempting the climb back down the ladder (even more difficult than the climb in) and wondering how this man of 60 plus years managed it! However he said he has lived in that cave for his whole life so he could probably do it in his sleep! That night we had diner at the hotel where some of our travelling companions were staying, they were paying $30USD and their showers were not working properly, so we were pretty happy with our 7 dollar room. The food was expensive but very good, Ethiopian food is really tasty and centred around a flat bread which is served with lots of different dippings sat on top of it, you tear the bread and eat the dips. I am suffering from the excess cabbage which seems to be served in everything and seems to seep out of Spencers bum at every available moment, infesting my air space! I was expecting another onslaught of fleas or bed bugs, but didn’t have to scratch all night, the bed however, was another centre-weighted special, and sat about 40cm lower in the middle than either side! We also only had one pillow to share and a toilet that would only flush by a broken water jug! We can’t say that we really cared as we were only there a few hours, but we did reminisce about our standard of accommodation when we travelled short term, Hilton, Empire and Pan Pacific all got a mention whilst sitting in our $7 room!

The following morning we were up early to walk to the other group of churches to view, we knew that the group was connected to the group we had visited the day before, but were under the impression that they were down the hill, after walking with the school traffic and being hounded for pens and money we find the structure that we thought was the second group of churches, not at all the second group of churches! We walk back uphill to the previous days viewing and find a guide who walks us to the second group, not far away at all and refuse payment! This group of churches contains more underground tunnels and take quite a bit of backtracking for us to view all of the churches. At one stage we were walking through a tunnel about 30mts long about 20 meters underground, carved out of solid stone. We wound our way through all of the churches and met a few interesting characters along the way. Then back to the hotel for our ride back to Bahir Dar. The driver, who was organised by the hotel, had tried to pull a swifty on us the night before and said that we would be leaving for Bahir Dar at 6am the following morning (and it wasn’t a stuff up of the crazy Ethiopian time system!) This would have meant that we would have spent 10 hours travelling (was supposed to take 14 hours, but we had Nigel mansell behind the wheel!) for three hours of churches!) After a phone call back to Bahir Dar our driver was told we would leave at 12 noon, of course he wasn’t on time! So we left at 12.30, I was nervous about him trying to make up time on the way back, Spencer told me later that we kit 140km/h on too many occasions! At one stage there was a man standing in the middle of the road as he had just climbed off a bus, the driver accelerated at him, blaring the horn. I doubt that we was expecting anything to be coming down that road at well over 100km/h, luckily he jumped out of the way at the last minute as our driver had not left enough time to stop, we would have hit him. Before I realised what I was doing I was blasting out a stream of expletives after we had passed a small child by about 30cm on the wrong side of the road...my abuse was something like ‘for f^&ks sake, do you have to drive so close to the kids, you have the whole road and you are on the wrong side, nearly running over kids’, he had little idea what had happened and what I was on about, so he turned around and asked, I was preparing for another string of expletives at the moron behind the wheel, but the Dutch bloke sitting next to Spencer explained my problem a whole lot more diplomatically! I then added ‘it could be your child on the road’ the Dutch bloke pointed out that he was too young to have kids as he is like 12 years old, I also pointed out that he was too young to have a drivers license! Maybe it was just luck, or maybe it was the accumulated 110 odd church visits made in the previous 24 hours period by the 10 occupants of the van, but we arrived back in Bahir Dar and incredible 5h 5minutes after leaving Belidala, and clambered out of the dusty vehicle, shaking the dust from our clothes and hair.

That evening the manager from the hotel asked me if I though our driver was ‘safe’, he must have had reservations about this bloke, by the end of the conversation the manager would have had the idea on the driving and the driver would have been close to unemployed! The manager was amazed that we had managed the trip in five hours (I was not, it was just crazy driving!)

The following day we were up early to pack up our tents again (three pack-ups and put-ups without actually moving tent site is a new record!) and made the trip to Gondar, to our new accommodation, in the garden of a pub! After putting up our tents I headed off to the shower, not great. A cold, single stream of water in a filthy bathroom, with a toilet that only flushes with a bucket (that you have to fill up from the shower!) I had to fill the bucket to flush a left-over poo down that had been kindly donated by the last occupant!

I started to think that this travel business was maybe harder than paid employment when I realised the following-

- I was camping in a pub garden

- My last clean pair of underwear was in fact dirty

- I was covered by bites from either bed bugs or fleas (most of the truck is infested)

- My new down sleeping bag is riddled with uninvited guests

- I haven’t had a decent shower since Nairobi, and even that was only just bordering on decent!

- I have the shits again

- The only place to do my washing was in a tub on the ground in the pub’s beer garden

- I am still off the grog

Only 70 odd days till we hit Aussie soil again!

The following day we had breakfast down the street, we went back tot he same coffee place where we had eaten lunch the day before, it was so good and huge servings that we hadn’t bothered with dinner! I ordered scrambled eggs, black forest cake (yeah, for breakfast, but who can refuse when it’s 50 cents!) and fresh pineapple juice, Spencer had the white forest, vegie sandwich and juice. My eggs turned into an egg mountain sandwich, lost in translation! Honestly, the roll was the size of a boston bun, like a whole loaf, I had no chance and had to admit defeat early! (after all I had eaten the black forest first!, got to love any country where they bring out desert before breakfast!)and they served up chips with my sandwich, and all this food for about $2 each. We then headed off to the castles which are in town and took our time wandering through the ruins, I was almost ready to leave, then I swapped lenses with another travelling companion (and fellow 5D Mk 11 user), my fisheye for his 20mm, so I ended up doing the lap of the castles again for more shots, and may have just decided that I need the 20mm more than the lens I was intending to buy! From there we headed back to guard our washing whilst it was drying, not happy when I found out that a bag of washing costs 40 birr, which is less than three dollars and I spent hours scrubbing and soaking and rinsing and guarding! But I will take consolation that I am experiencing the true African washing style and backache!

And on the bedbug or flea issue....most of the truck has them, my sleeping bag spent the day in the hot Ethiopian sun in a black plastic bag, hopefully not melting the shell, but melting any uninvited guests~! I cannot get any type of insecticide. Not sure weather I got them at the first sleazy hotel (which we found out later was set up mainly as a brothel) or at the second sleazy hotel where I didn’t use my sleeping bag, but did wear my thermals to bed and then again the following night in my sleeping bag. I am itching my ass off as I type, Spencer counted 40 off bites on my midriff alone this morning, he does not seem to be affected and is calling my sleeping bag “the flea bag”, I have coined the phrase, “life is more exciting with fleas”

Tomorrow we head up to the Simian Mountains for a day trip, followed by a free brewery tour, with free T-shirt included...think I may have to put my alcohol abstinence on hold for an afternoon!



See the photos to go with the story...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=324903&id=640508311&l=1afae81cf7