Solo female travel advice = happiness.

I usually travel alone. There are hundreds of reasons to do so, many of which I mention in these posts. But what it comes down to is: Either learn to get along in strange places without your friends, or stay home!

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Living in the northeast

I'm firmly settled in Boston!
A visit from my mom justified a quick jaunt to Salem to see the site of the witch trials. We did our part by drinking lots of hot apple cider.

My walk to work this fall.


NYC is just a 4-hour bus ride away! 



What do you call fresh wildebeest excrement when talking to a child and you are a cow?

The title of this post was thought up by yours truly as my sister and I leaned out of the open top of our rickety safari van, and is the result of the requisite escalating pun/rhyming war which will ALWAYS transpire when you talk about gnus (wildebeest is just the dutch word for 'gnu') with your sister. (The answer, obviously, is "Moo! New gnu doo doo." If you didn't know that, you are a fool. Get out.)

Now that I've insulted you and talked about gnu poo, I can really dig into the gritty, first hand narrative of the ins and outs of African wildlife and culture, the veritable tapestry woven from the priceless threads of information I gleaned from our polyglot tour guide in his broken-yet-confident English and lilting Swahili accent. The only problem is that I returned from this trip 6 months ago and forgot a lot of stuff, so, apologies all around. Let's see how we do.

To begin with, I had heard horror stories about connecting in Addis Ababa (I would never insult your intelligence by clarifying such common knowledge, so I will tell OTHERS that it is the capital of Ethiopia) airport. Sure enough, my small bag did not make it through, and I filed a claim with the airport and then hurried to the tour guide who had been waiting with a lovely Danish couple for my already late flight to arrive. I was assured that the bag would be given to the tour company agent who stays at the airport, who would bring it to the hotel that night, "No problem." I've gotten quite used to this kind of thing and am happy to report that such incidents have no impact whatsoever on my travels. I skipped off to Nairobi and, upon arrival at the hotel, realized that our "budget safari" was much nicer than I expected.

Patio in Nairobi hotel room
Mosquito nets do not keep out all pests (zing! sister joke. Nailed it.)
Between the airport and the hotel, I watched the scenes of abject poverty zoom past. Adults looked at our vans with distrust but also curiosity, children waved fervently. Amidst the brownish red dust and dilapidated tin sheds, we pulled into an immense gated park and our driver nodded to some armed guards. The hotel was a bubble of sushi and steak, swimming pools and tiki bars in the middle of the rest of Nairobi, which can only be described as "slums." I felt like royalty, and also extremely guilty. I hoped that the rest of the trip would be more authentic, and I was not disappointed.

Man preparing corn to sell during traffic jams in Nairobi
Apparently coke provided free (or discounted) building materials. They have turned the entire city into a billboard created by desperation. Despite my disgust I have to imagine that the people would take that over nothing.
The recent rains made the "markets" (this one outside of Nakuru but similar to Nairobi) even less cheerful.
It was time to leave Nairobi and my suitcase still had not arrived. We started the 8 hour drive toward the Masai Mara national park. (Tangent: in any other place, the drive would take about half of that time, but the infrastructure between Kenyan cities is non-existent. I was shocked that the wheels did not fly off the van as we careened over so many potholes that I'm pretty sure they can no longer be considered as such, the rest of the road is simply sporadic. There is a special kind of headache that accompanies this kind of longterm jolting, known only to the select few who have traveled those roads, and those who inhabit the 4th ring of Dante's inferno.)

Intercity "road"

About a third of the way through this trek, we pulled over to the side of the road. This was only slightly worrisome, our driver often made sudden stops and chose not to hear us when we asked for an explanation. On the side of the busy highway, he walked around to the back of the van and opened the trunk. Since I was in the back seat, I fulfilled my role of informant to the rest of the travelers in the van by turning around and peeking through the Tetris-like piles of luggage stacked to the ceiling. There I saw a man carrying my suitcase. Please do not forget that we are on the SIDE OF A HIGHWAY. The man exchanged a few words to our driver in Swahili, and the driver turned to me and asked if it was indeed my bag. When I said yes, he said pointedly, "This man say he got ticket on way to delivery the bag to you." I hemmed and hawed trying to find the delicate balance between communicating my sympathy and gratitude while at the same time reminding them of my innocence in the matter. The driver kind of waited a few painful seconds. Later that day I realized I was expected to tip either one of them or both of them and didn't, because I am clueless. They dismissed me as a hopeless case, or possibly mentally ill, and we got back on our way. And that's how I got my luggage back!


As we got closer to Masai Mara, things got really exciting. We started seeing monkeys and exotic birds everywhere. We got to the lodge and threw our stuff in our rooms and raced to get back in the van for our first game drive.


The couples who shared our van: Honeymooners from England,  a scientist and surgeon from the US.
Only later did I realize that the demure and dignified surgeon photo bombed this picture. Well played.
As we set out in the national park, our driver started cruising to the "good" spots. To our horror he was driving past Exotic Animals without stopping to let us take pictures! We forced him to stop so we could get these beauts:
I forgot what this is. I warned you. -Update- Thompson's Gazelle.
Let the overwhelming desire to make a gnu joke take hold. If you can beat mine, please send a private message or comment, because I am DYING to hear it.
An hour later, we had seen HUNDREDS of gnus and antelope and zebra. Our driver made so much fun of us because now we were insatiable for lions and elephants and rhinos and did not give zebras a second look. We would drive past a zebra family and he would be like, "Oooooooh, a ZEBRA, do you want to take a picture?? No?? Oh I SEE," and then laugh hysterically. We had to laugh too because we were clearly Old Pros by this point (1.5 hours into first safari) and would never be impressed by zebras ever again.

A mama and baby elephant. Just imagine these walking silently by about 20 feet from you.

African buffalo getting a drink.

We were later told that most groups didn't see any leopards, so we basically felt like the leopards had chosen us out of interest and mutual respect. In reality it was an insane amount of luck and the sharp eyes of our driver. He would always see the animals, stop, and then we would fumble around whispering, "Where? WHERE IS IT? WHAT IS IT?" It took us 10 minutes USING THE ZOOM OF OUR CAMERAS to even glimpse it for ourselves.

When you see these things in the wild it makes you hate zoos.

These lions boldly stood their ground as the vans circled in for a look.

We later realized it was because they were not about to leave their babies unattended.

It is beyond description to lean out the window and see the Great African Migration just happening.

Monkeys loved our lodge and making mischief. This one later grabbed a glass bottle out of the recycling bin, raced 20 feet up a tree with it, and proceeded to drop it. It shattered on the bin below and the monkey seemed very pleased.
"Please find me interesting again!"

Our first Masai Mara sunset as seen from the van did not disappoint.
 The next day, we went on another drive.
We saw a cheetah enjoying its lunch. For the love of god, do not look closely at this picture.

Most of the time we didn't even have to zoom in to see the animals. They would choose a path, and continue on it whether or not vans were approaching.


I realize there is no way to prove I was actually seeing these giraffes so I got a pic with my enormous head in it.

Hippos are absolutely terrifying, and according to our guide, one of the few animals that will seek out a fight and kill for fun, leaving the carcass uneaten. The other such animal is the hyena.

Reality sets in - definitely not at the zoo.
We then traveled to lake Nakuru, which was a scintillating oasis in the middle of our trip. I have to admit it didn't hold much appeal for me otherwise; it is, however, considered a bird-watchers paradise. The scientist in our group was one such bird watcher and made our driver stop for things that looked really boring. What I mean is they look boring to ignorant people, which in the case of African birds, is me.

Lake Nakuru
A rare sight in Nakuru: a lioness resting on a branch with her baby behind her.
My thoughts in this picture: "I should really add something about 'Nakuru' to my 'gnu' jokes. " I was right.
After Nakuru, we started on our way to Amboseli. Around this time we were really hankering to see a male lion or a rhino, the only 2 of the "Big 5" we hadn't seen yet. Imagine our joy, and then terror, at spotting this guy from a distance and have him cross RIGHT IN FRONT of the van:

You can tell how enormous he is by the size of the (rather large and brilliant blue) starling next to him

Upon reaching Amboseli, we visited a Masai village and went on one last game drive, where we saw an adorable serval (I could only get a pic after we had shrieked with joy at seeing him, which promptly made him flee).
Sweet serval.

Visiting the Masai village, I have to admit I left with a bad feeling. The villagers showed us how they lived, in huts made of elephant dung and children singing in unison about how they love school, their blank stares drifting around the schoolhouse with a board in front upon which was hastily scrawled "ABC 123." It looked totally fake. My suspicions were heightened again when we were begged for donations (who would refuse after being serenaded the English alphabet by children with flies buzzing around them?) and then shown out, only to see another 2 tourist groups approaching the "remote" village. Based on what I saw, the village made AT LEAST $300 within an hour that morning, and I assumed that they gave several tours per hour for weeks on end. I got the impression that they put on this show and then probably go change into dockers and polos and live their actual lives.
Masai warrior dance


Amanda warrior dance

How to make fire
Sweet little kiddos
After that somewhat unsettling experience, we went on our last game drive close to Mount Kilimanjaro. It was absolutely surreal, and the pictures we took seemed to come straight from a brochure.
Mount Kilimanjaro with elephant
Not in brochure: scary ass hyena. It was huge.
Sunset in Amboseli.
All in all it was a life-changing trip. We met lots of adventurous travelers and lots of friendly but guarded locals. I only wanted to kill my traveling companion, my sister, at 5,000 separate moments, even though we had blown right through the "48 hour rule" that usually keeps us sane (we only stay near each other for 48 hours at a time). I will leave you to reflect with one last hauntingly beautiful tale: at the rest stops on the side of the road, which are very far between, they advertise "free bathrooms." However, AFTER you go to the restroom, you will realize that the handle has been removed from the flushing mechanism. You will shyly ask the attendant how to circumnavigate this issue, and he will say, "Don't worry, I WILL FLUSH IT." How can you not tip this person? You will thank any nameless deity that you only had to go number one.

Just kidding. Although that story is absolutely true, I would never leave you with that. Have these videos instead:


A baby lion learning to growl.



(These antelope had been fighting and I started recording too late, but it's a good example of the conversations Alyssa and I would have as we tried to take it all in.)



Lioness on the hunt: happy ending.


Practical info for potential travelers:
Tour company: Go2Africa, "Kenya Classic SOPA" plan during peak season (migration, early August), lauren@go2africa.com was helpful.
Flights: I left from Paris, and with the layover the flight was around $900 USD round-trip.
Packing: it was really chilly at night, definitely needed long pants and a medium jacket. Layers work best for daytime since the sun warms you up but the wind is significant in the open vans.
Free water bottles once a day from all hotels. Malaria pills need to be taken starting on day of arrival, morning and night, then for a week after your departure from Africa. French officials said I had to have a record of Yellow Fever vaccination, which I got, but no one seemed to check at any border.
Last tip: apparently the male lions come out only around dawn - evidently the extra hot-air balloon ride is worth it since you leave at like 5am (we didn't do that one but the group that did saw a male lion up close).

SCOTLAND (or, "Keep Dr. Sands away from your dog.")

I started the summer by visiting my gorgeous Scottish friend at her family's house in Glasgow. My main reason for going was because this particular friend had told several outrageous stories of Glaswegian partying. She had also lamented the injustice of living in a part of town which had an astronomical suicide rate - but only because of the Erskine bridge*, which is a veritable Mecca for the potentially suicidal. People who are NOT FROM CLYDEBANK come and make it all depressing because their own towns do not have bridges that are as high as this one. She is not in charge of coming up with things to say on the Glasgow brochure, but I was an easy sell nonetheless.


*I did not remember the name of this bridge, and when I typed "Scotland bridge" into Google, the suggested search filled with stuff like, "Scotland bridge where dogs jump to their death." Of course I could not let this phenomenon go unresearched, so we will here enter our first of probably many tangents. Apparently over 50 dogs have inexplicably jumped to their deaths as their owners went on walks and traversed the Overtoun bridge. Even the Daily Mail has covered the story. There also seems to be a youtube video produced, acted in and voiced-over by one "dog specialist" with subtle self-aggrandizing comments like, "Dr. David Sands is the only one in the region with the expertise to diagnose the problem," and then it shows him completing experiments with captions like, "Dr. David Sands: Only One Who Knows What's Going On." His blatant dementia is apparent in the introduction to his video, which I recommend not be watched before you go to bed. Skip to :23 to go straight to the "science".

AAAAAAANyway, I saw no suicides, canine or human, during my trip, and I was pretty happy about that. I did see lots of beautiful things, heard lots of barely understandable and inexplicably attractive Scottish accents, and drank lots of Scottish drinks.


Drinks with Luisaidh and her mates.

A small boat just hanging out by L's house.

Options.
View from L's house.
I was also treated to a hearty chuckle as I left Glasgow. If you are also from Dallas, where we routinely stay in triple digit temperatures for weeks at a time in the summer, you will understand the adorable hilarity:

Front page news: Prepare for the sizzler!
I had an absolutely fantastic time in Glasgow, of course thanks to Luisaidh and her family. It was especially needed since I had just finished my teaching job in Tours and was already missing my fellow lectrices. However, I couldn't stay long because I had to move out of my French apartment and then immediately go on an African safari, which will be described in the next post.



***EPILOGUE***

Alert reader Luisaidh, from the Scotland fan base, has brought to my attention a very important piece of evidence in Scotland's defense.