tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51456255046178480962024-03-12T20:18:10.242-07:00MandaGoesThe travel blog of a sassy teacher who aspires to see the world. Solo female travel tips, tricks and experiences from around the world. Photo: Brent EyslerUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-44143071811685012342023-12-07T08:49:00.000-08:002024-01-05T18:30:55.733-08:00The Guyanas and Brazil<div>After a couple days back in Boston, it was time to see British Guyana, Suriname, French Guyana, and Brazil.</div><div><br /></div><div>This trip would require an intrepid travel buddy. The infrastructure in the region (Brazil excluded) was quite undeveloped, the flights would be in the middle of the night, the heat would be daunting... not everyone gravitates to this type of "vacation." So I did what anyone would do. I reached out to my childhood pediatrician to see if she wanted to join, and she said yes!</div><div><br /></div><div>Seriously though, my former pediatrician (Hi Dr. Karine!) is still good friends with my family. You may remember her bad-to-the-bone daughter Sophie from my posts about <a href="https://mandagoes.blogspot.com/search/label/Oamaru" target="_blank">New Zealand</a>. Like any true Australian, she travels extensively and adventurously. Not many people could take multiple weeks off work to travel, but she could... plus, I feel extra safe traveling with doctors, so bingo! Or as they say in Australia, "Dingo."</div><div><br /></div><div>I booked us a trip exploring the "three Guianas" and tacked a bit of Brazil time on at the end, since as you'll see, the airline schedules in the Guianas are veeeeery sparse, and getting back to the states would require flying out of Brasilia anyway. The first thing to know is about nomenclature: "Guiana" or "Guyana" is an indigenous (Arawak) word that means "land of many waters." Due to classic colonial violence and greed, the once-singular Guiana was conquered by the Dutch and split into multiple territories. Through various wars, consolidations, and empire shifts, we ended up with the following:</div><div> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nT9WpostrIi4GLQe0dKDdHcalV-21UtcCYLTHJHrit2G8j97QRylHrp19I2MtSibL1mEGuPp8ifpQpjCDpRiG4wc6Rta64ww0iz-4Sk1duLwZAgkiNEDB_FloZM1D36tfhXnap-S1PnM112tJC7c7X_q9aFSfC08DtYSEnMomAA3FRSVeFFerWvTZ2IG/s1200/Guyanas.svg.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="825" data-original-width="1200" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nT9WpostrIi4GLQe0dKDdHcalV-21UtcCYLTHJHrit2G8j97QRylHrp19I2MtSibL1mEGuPp8ifpQpjCDpRiG4wc6Rta64ww0iz-4Sk1duLwZAgkiNEDB_FloZM1D36tfhXnap-S1PnM112tJC7c7X_q9aFSfC08DtYSEnMomAA3FRSVeFFerWvTZ2IG/w401-h275/Guyanas.svg.png" width="401" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The current setup. This area is sometimes referred to as "the forgotten corner" of South America. My travel doctor had no idea where Suriname was.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>If you're American, British, or Guyanese, you probably refer to the country in pink as "Guyana," but everyone else in the region calls it "British Guyana." The official language there is English.</div><div><br /></div><div>Suriname used to be called Dutch Guyana, but the indigenous name won out. "Surinen" is the name of the local indigenous tribe in Arawak. The official language is Dutch. </div><div><br /></div><div>What I always called "French Guyana" is, once you're in the country, simply referred to as "la Guyane," which of course is just French for Guyana. So two different countries call themselves Guyana, and save the adjective "French" or "British" for the one that they aren't. Got it? Ok.</div><div><br /></div><div>First things first, British Guyana has the best air access for Americans. You pretty much need to fly into Georgetown if you're coming from the states. Suriname has essentially no air access at all unless you are coming from the Netherlands or another small Caribbean nation like Curaçao. We accessed Suriname by land and by boat. </div><div><br /></div><div>These are all 18th century colonial outpost countries right on the Caribbean, which makes for some very interesting vibe shifts. On one hand, you have Caribbean beaches, amazing weather, friendly people, and tropical drinks. On the other, pretty much every historical or cultural activity harkens back to atrocious cruelty - sometimes European on native, sometimes European on European. It was very popular in the late 1700s for the "owner" (blegh) European countries, Britain, Netherlands, and France, to use these territories as game pieces. A new treaty requires that you give national territory to another country? Fine, take some of this faraway land that none of our high society cares about. Jails filling up with undesirables? Fine, let's ship them overseas. We're legally obligated to accept refugees? We know just where to put them... (see French Guyana section below). </div><div><br /></div><div>British Guyana (what we used to just call "Guyana") was our arrival point and first impression of the region. They won independence from Britain in 1966 and have done very well on their own, recently monetizing huge oil reserves. Their tourism jewel is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaieteur_Falls" target="_blank">Kaieteur falls</a>, which requires a dodgy 10-seater plane ride to visit. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jaybWvMpX_Q" width="320" youtube-src-id="jaybWvMpX_Q"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Once you arrive, you spill gratefully out of the plane, have a barely edible snack that probably should have been better refrigerated, and start a hike to the falls themselves. Even though they did look huge from the air, there's nothing like seeing them up close. <a href="https://www.wbur.org/endlessthread/2018/06/29/the-call-of-the-void" target="_blank">L'appel du vide</a> will be very strong so don't get too close. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xqdS9qmoPQI" width="320" youtube-src-id="xqdS9qmoPQI"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Naturally this is where I decided to do <a href="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/mandahandstanda/" target="_blank">something</a> I'm only marginally good at that requires going upside down and balancing. </div><div><br /></div><div>We explored Georgetown a bit and some more of the nature reserves. We learned about a type of sculpture made by locals using sap from the rubber trees: Balata. I snatched up some figurines because I am here for the locally made, non-plastic souvenirs. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcpDUvIzOpXgDuWVXLy97duxubcO_NF49GoLEaeqCUV3gBKFcpRA0NBpbH1qnHqSZXKM0mzCfo7lI9XHUMUHr03Z6ZyH3896YC-OsvbTzusnS1sL-bJ3-SHqXhnMjP2bGkOlGBiw1ZuUf6YF_jQhV22gMW8dJB5DkzDfYs-vN0Xg3XVaXc4795OSePwyf/s275/balata.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcpDUvIzOpXgDuWVXLy97duxubcO_NF49GoLEaeqCUV3gBKFcpRA0NBpbH1qnHqSZXKM0mzCfo7lI9XHUMUHr03Z6ZyH3896YC-OsvbTzusnS1sL-bJ3-SHqXhnMjP2bGkOlGBiw1ZuUf6YF_jQhV22gMW8dJB5DkzDfYs-vN0Xg3XVaXc4795OSePwyf/s1600/balata.jpeg" width="275" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">See that red bird in the second row? That's the one I got.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the bustling and anxiety-inducing street market, we saw some somewhat dubious cures for everything from the common cold to cancer. Step right up:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42UfCPiwhxW81uVAy18zEIjWWohdOzRulc44V6YcCibYZfchzmEZQdXkkaiBzyPmEbsOWqXXPPjzzZwbWjXZALkyDfUE17cwdOLMHXNyx-pczUBiAJkHh-rmYRNRu8unab9vRK9Ck6Vuf1Go5x_UYDVBQYIuHWt5HGrDasRZyYhD9Kqq-9OSQaBMmL-xv/s4032/IMG_5732.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42UfCPiwhxW81uVAy18zEIjWWohdOzRulc44V6YcCibYZfchzmEZQdXkkaiBzyPmEbsOWqXXPPjzzZwbWjXZALkyDfUE17cwdOLMHXNyx-pczUBiAJkHh-rmYRNRu8unab9vRK9Ck6Vuf1Go5x_UYDVBQYIuHWt5HGrDasRZyYhD9Kqq-9OSQaBMmL-xv/s320/IMG_5732.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNkBpvxLZn25GXEvLKuLelcNw-lCWXCA29qAIRO83t2OPe4e5MDCi1nMwaGQlRsFiM4UVn6LisoJgvciQi-A7J0NwlFQgDhxcvj3DRg9v7valw25d-ESxDgfpC5xZGXSeGQ9e-9pBZBZWU7K_t9m9Zb2iksxxj8WgtdkKydWP3kQagDfhFjzUA4vwfsNe/s4032/IMG_5734.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNkBpvxLZn25GXEvLKuLelcNw-lCWXCA29qAIRO83t2OPe4e5MDCi1nMwaGQlRsFiM4UVn6LisoJgvciQi-A7J0NwlFQgDhxcvj3DRg9v7valw25d-ESxDgfpC5xZGXSeGQ9e-9pBZBZWU7K_t9m9Zb2iksxxj8WgtdkKydWP3kQagDfhFjzUA4vwfsNe/s320/IMG_5734.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>While some tours allow for more inland adventures, ours sent us eastward to Suriname via a short plane ride to Paramaribo and then almost immediately further east to French Guyana in a long, narrow covered boat called a pirogue. We kept Suriname for the end of the trip, but French Guyana was not accessible directly from British Guyana, so we had to go through there anyway. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRohYOVo5Yf0BqqU5FZ5t6Wtovl2A6IFrvxLp7wqXWsEf1pYsflY5RAKhSo7C61FRlVmcrhHrkVYXQ1KH3jJLdI4bhwfCRB4bLSfYpEz2K2qnBVRaOiV-EMTSuhMF5cwmrbrsxo17aDBR9-Ww_eRD-qZzp5vuIZXmVFZ1qzcu28lJSQMtlseRDYRbBbKrC/s4032/IMG_5751.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRohYOVo5Yf0BqqU5FZ5t6Wtovl2A6IFrvxLp7wqXWsEf1pYsflY5RAKhSo7C61FRlVmcrhHrkVYXQ1KH3jJLdI4bhwfCRB4bLSfYpEz2K2qnBVRaOiV-EMTSuhMF5cwmrbrsxo17aDBR9-Ww_eRD-qZzp5vuIZXmVFZ1qzcu28lJSQMtlseRDYRbBbKrC/s320/IMG_5751.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pirogue views as seen from the covered part.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>First, administratively, French Guyana is exactly like France in almost every way. The street signs are made from the same material and same font as they are in France. People use euros (and things are very expensive). Guyanese people’s passports are French passports – they literally say “France” on the front. It is one of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Overseas_France" target="_blank">DOM-TOM regions.</a> It’s a somewhat popular destination for mainland French vacationers, but the ocean isn’t as pristine as other DOM-TOM regions, so the place wasn’t crawling with tourists. French is the official and pretty much only spoken language. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEDWX2XCriBemFregLhxsNKxM80gTpNS3DSQyEYfElzRDsWLSL6rBuUJs_CE5vKYBu8_fqbokdzhfJ0s-A18CNe4FFZUEKX0bUnM53qtfT_DfxX1cFDK5Tjj6IYzQyANQE_8bRo75FFx8nGxwSPXIZgESbIpU4Pwk6CvD_JLdSBs5u6NbpMx-NBAMQqB9/s4032/IMG_5781.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEDWX2XCriBemFregLhxsNKxM80gTpNS3DSQyEYfElzRDsWLSL6rBuUJs_CE5vKYBu8_fqbokdzhfJ0s-A18CNe4FFZUEKX0bUnM53qtfT_DfxX1cFDK5Tjj6IYzQyANQE_8bRo75FFx8nGxwSPXIZgESbIpU4Pwk6CvD_JLdSBs5u6NbpMx-NBAMQqB9/s320/IMG_5781.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKxcJEGJmWGu1bGQzG1J_ClzRWFWiyzhjgRI83X2dilcTtdFEHwLLEQ-A9WpQDeZ3VC6DHz5KLrFRaJhGZK0i3iDw79L37bsvyYGUEQbHAtASr5kUN3JE6IMYW2D5loOC3FgwUXjGGNbhlldolyJcRoxDP9GzQPLghfFdlFAzGgy-4JIU49Stl_jrRjqN/s4032/IMG_5784.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKxcJEGJmWGu1bGQzG1J_ClzRWFWiyzhjgRI83X2dilcTtdFEHwLLEQ-A9WpQDeZ3VC6DHz5KLrFRaJhGZK0i3iDw79L37bsvyYGUEQbHAtASr5kUN3JE6IMYW2D5loOC3FgwUXjGGNbhlldolyJcRoxDP9GzQPLghfFdlFAzGgy-4JIU49Stl_jrRjqN/s320/IMG_5784.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>To get to some pretty water, we took a boat tour to several islands. These were your classic turquoise water, palm trees, awesome islands, with a horror twist – each island served as a jail. Jailhouse security was quite strong, but not really necessary, as the water off the coast was (at least hundreds of years ago, pre-overfishing eras) infested with sharks and piranhas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even the “not-so-bad” jail island was awful. We toured the ruins of the jail with a pleasant, joking local guide who took particular delight in mimicking the sound of a guillotine at work. In unbearable heat, we toured cell block after cell block; tiny cells faced a courtyard so that no prisoner could escape the sounds and drama of the executions that would take place there. There were long concrete slabs with what looked like rebar welded to it – hundreds of prisoners would be chained there to sleep. The close quarters, heat, forced labor, and rampant sickness ensured that very, very few prisoners ever left. Our guide told us that about 75% of prisoners died there. Now the walls are crumbling and the doors are all unlocked, but the misery was still palpable. After about 15 minutes I stopped going into the cells, although our cheerful tour guide tried to insist. You could still see the carvings and drawings on the cells from the prisoners over 100 years ago. The movie “papillon” is based on these islands. You can read more about them <a href="https://www.journeylatinamerica.com/destinations/french-guiana/things-to-do/visit-the-iles-du-salut/#:~:text=The%20deceptively%20named%20%C3%8Eles%20du,inhuman%20prison%20facilities%20in%20existence." target="_blank">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5q4la7xQjel2vGl4Nr3ZyK3mamxC_s4yPMkLKnLDT9YZJBNutY8wz2nPszAA88M4HJC7CsMsZp-7bCRsJ9WOkaj215kV2LsaE6NOm_gBIPrd_CGx5z_RjWgCRJaw1mAxg9-0rm6H-hhDv2f7WNpuLDKyWKnea_wBupwBgWqQZsQRx2vbn2QOd3h3Rwz6Z/s4032/IMG_5772.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5q4la7xQjel2vGl4Nr3ZyK3mamxC_s4yPMkLKnLDT9YZJBNutY8wz2nPszAA88M4HJC7CsMsZp-7bCRsJ9WOkaj215kV2LsaE6NOm_gBIPrd_CGx5z_RjWgCRJaw1mAxg9-0rm6H-hhDv2f7WNpuLDKyWKnea_wBupwBgWqQZsQRx2vbn2QOd3h3Rwz6Z/s320/IMG_5772.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Awful entrance.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85LWwq0fWdE2XjfLl2ywGHlof3JeZd-NQ53dY-FaxiO9zf9zDg8vs9sl4H5___Af142H0n0Ea_1kahQO9Z2taeqmb8viPxTkb2kRl0gstisbSrU1X6yWU-K0h89k9NSZYe2JHqkjawuIBIaA8-f7qHXDurHAXzBEL6W8xW4mm6lOHvILQzAbWIbKXsxXq/s4032/IMG_5770.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85LWwq0fWdE2XjfLl2ywGHlof3JeZd-NQ53dY-FaxiO9zf9zDg8vs9sl4H5___Af142H0n0Ea_1kahQO9Z2taeqmb8viPxTkb2kRl0gstisbSrU1X6yWU-K0h89k9NSZYe2JHqkjawuIBIaA8-f7qHXDurHAXzBEL6W8xW4mm6lOHvILQzAbWIbKXsxXq/s320/IMG_5770.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Awful cell block.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcgZeVXl8LI5UQtpViEs_7pJkCU1kP4z8DRqV0rDoDS0U-z3TFw-zFB5NgDYA03PM-sQQQ3re7BWg7f15Qr0Quy6ISMW4-Fh_GhlQ9_IrvvATuNMggmCJavzdrSgaC8JZAh3AhpXuCBBB4c27BpaoPS6_ayEGAchlO5FxnJixfVZ3hNHW4KVlXDIINAeV/s4032/IMG_5756.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcgZeVXl8LI5UQtpViEs_7pJkCU1kP4z8DRqV0rDoDS0U-z3TFw-zFB5NgDYA03PM-sQQQ3re7BWg7f15Qr0Quy6ISMW4-Fh_GhlQ9_IrvvATuNMggmCJavzdrSgaC8JZAh3AhpXuCBBB4c27BpaoPS6_ayEGAchlO5FxnJixfVZ3hNHW4KVlXDIINAeV/s320/IMG_5756.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Awful cell.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyL97YeRugAZAWWluRUp_il3CJyoGajSI0PCO0Ew8ynwG9OAZ3bpW8oP-CCi9zl9qr1XG0_GmuuhX45NUWMSERUevEo7zL0fKRxUiSu3tV_3rbvNZqMKrBBqKNRl4iMQ4jILB3MgsJlT9GCGzfPsFM72tIljyxhy5uQyAgesSBX4Nx0RWb15ehyeDmLZKy/s4032/IMG_5873.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyL97YeRugAZAWWluRUp_il3CJyoGajSI0PCO0Ew8ynwG9OAZ3bpW8oP-CCi9zl9qr1XG0_GmuuhX45NUWMSERUevEo7zL0fKRxUiSu3tV_3rbvNZqMKrBBqKNRl4iMQ4jILB3MgsJlT9GCGzfPsFM72tIljyxhy5uQyAgesSBX4Nx0RWb15ehyeDmLZKy/s320/IMG_5873.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On some islands, nature is trying to cleanse the place.</div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>From the boat, we could also see Devil’s island – another penitentiary designed for a single convict. This is where <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreyfus_affair#:~:text=At%20the%20end%20of%201894,and%20sentenced%20to%20life%20imprisonment." target="_blank">Alfred Dreyfus</a> was imprisoned from 1895-1899. From Wikipedia: </div><div><br /></div><div><i><span> </span>On 12 March 1895, after a difficult voyage of fifteen days, the ship anchored off the Îles du Salut. Dreyfus stayed one month in prison on Île Royale and was transferred to Devil's Island on 14 April 1895. Apart from his guards, he was the only inhabitant of the island and he stayed in a stone hut 4 by 4 metres (13 ft × 13 ft). Haunted by the risk of escape, the commandant of the prison sentenced him to a hellish life, even though living conditions were already very painful. Dreyfus became sick and shaken by fevers that got worse every year.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><span> </span>Dreyfus was allowed to write on paper numbered and signed. He underwent censorship by the commandant even when he received mail from his wife Lucie, whereby they encouraged each other. On 6 September 1896, the conditions of life for Dreyfus worsened again; he was chained double looped, forcing him to stay in bed motionless with his ankles shackled. This measure was the result of false information of his escape revealed by a British newspaper. For two long months, Dreyfus was plunged into deep despair, convinced that his life would end on this remote island.</i></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0u92hixVLvbDewLshsfx2z62R80SeBU4pieT4CmR-HwcxSYeAmMnuJVhmKhIRhROnM22Hm1iwwzSUkZeN9YkSCek7WgiPNTUqdro2HEFJD2Qyy9ne3_hOebffwyP32bvMqdMzZL5EUcpnHKB42LuQ0aNeRuMSkE3HkIkzFgyvgMPriC5mcCaQ_iGt4Ye7/s4032/IMG_5811.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0u92hixVLvbDewLshsfx2z62R80SeBU4pieT4CmR-HwcxSYeAmMnuJVhmKhIRhROnM22Hm1iwwzSUkZeN9YkSCek7WgiPNTUqdro2HEFJD2Qyy9ne3_hOebffwyP32bvMqdMzZL5EUcpnHKB42LuQ0aNeRuMSkE3HkIkzFgyvgMPriC5mcCaQ_iGt4Ye7/s320/IMG_5811.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>The single prisoner’s hut on Devil’s island as seen from the boat; we didn’t go onto the island itself. </div><div><br /></div><div>Can you imagine being treated so horribly in what we would normally see as an island paradise? So disturbing. </div><div><br /></div><div>French Guyana’s other main tourist attraction is the Space Center. It’s huge – in fact, it’s so large that it doubles as an animal reserve (strict controls on human access = no hunting = animals flock to it. There is a family of pumas living there, but of course we didn’t see them firsthand). The size requires you to take a bus – you don’t get to meander much on this part of the tour. You just sit, either in an auditorium or a bus. Still, you can see where the European Union launches its space missions from, including getting up close on the launch pads, and sometimes they let you out of the bus near the launchpads. While I don’t have an outsized interest in space exploration, I will say these launchpads are quite remarkable. You can see the vents where all the rocket fire goes out. As you can tell from the previous sentence, I am not the ideal guide for rocket science situations.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZadRyeXVyJp9-oxaOe5FvJxD2OmbfQsOxokDoKJMmghQ3_h4Vi2uFsEzeMBQiQMM0M8LvZFBuDoXNmrIN4QwnR2dwviK3TtMT9vYOshx1jaqiHOrx2knOYSBkCfXRkmOAAJqpJjOeMbFmXTMiT-PfciKzb_NcYbroT9G4MxR8Rju_fkt__Xd0kBuYf73n/s4032/IMG_5905.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZadRyeXVyJp9-oxaOe5FvJxD2OmbfQsOxokDoKJMmghQ3_h4Vi2uFsEzeMBQiQMM0M8LvZFBuDoXNmrIN4QwnR2dwviK3TtMT9vYOshx1jaqiHOrx2knOYSBkCfXRkmOAAJqpJjOeMbFmXTMiT-PfciKzb_NcYbroT9G4MxR8Rju_fkt__Xd0kBuYf73n/s320/IMG_5905.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Launch pad.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7N7k82C92Fjf7xJWSNjmchfaB7bOOxC_TR-90nV0DtVQbpE0tkEUsfmsDmF9YVZv-0-UOaq7mIciwOnf7WCz8xOAkI9whLlCW6AM_dvBUYV_u7IMOGe8h-T7Lno89u28poJ_-qhL9Gr_HTKUjjCapzk-L43S3vlAYdpATFL88fhbMqkYEy_MiOxpUrDP/s4032/IMG_5927.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7N7k82C92Fjf7xJWSNjmchfaB7bOOxC_TR-90nV0DtVQbpE0tkEUsfmsDmF9YVZv-0-UOaq7mIciwOnf7WCz8xOAkI9whLlCW6AM_dvBUYV_u7IMOGe8h-T7Lno89u28poJ_-qhL9Gr_HTKUjjCapzk-L43S3vlAYdpATFL88fhbMqkYEy_MiOxpUrDP/s320/IMG_5927.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Orange Phone, where some important person gives the ok to launch.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also on mainland French Guyana... remember when I said EU countries that might be pressured to take in refugees but don't want to deal with them in Europe might use their overseas territories for the purpose? That's what France is doing. There is a tent city of middle eastern, mostly Syrian, refugees awaiting processing for French asylum claims... in French Guyana. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7t27_0UA_9vzdwb3RSGHlC3LA24qKdM6LpWOJHD06xQWXn1NpFrJeFSf73sqJvYtTZHh72RNa_Hv4O5U6FYwV204FZxPRdepefSiIrLj1UiD_jxf-aGnRJXizqMmpZasQvb2GNnQe6opkoR3QlrVNb03nxPY9qQfd1BjFbvqXf3TsSGGLrwaTVKC_4aS/s1968/refugees%20cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1298" data-original-width="1968" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7t27_0UA_9vzdwb3RSGHlC3LA24qKdM6LpWOJHD06xQWXn1NpFrJeFSf73sqJvYtTZHh72RNa_Hv4O5U6FYwV204FZxPRdepefSiIrLj1UiD_jxf-aGnRJXizqMmpZasQvb2GNnQe6opkoR3QlrVNb03nxPY9qQfd1BjFbvqXf3TsSGGLrwaTVKC_4aS/s320/refugees%20cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I obviously didn't want to make them uncomfortable by taking pictures so this one is from far away. </div><div><div><br /></div><div>You can read more about this phenomenon <a href="https://www.infomigrants.net/en/post/28188/french-guiana-a-new-migrant-gateway-to-france-buckles-under-pressure" target="_blank">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Suriname was saved for last (well, and then Brazil, but that was just part of the going-home tour, not the Guyanas tour). As you’ll recall, this is the Dutch Guyana, and hence the only Guyana in which I relied heavily on English translators who could have possibly used a little more practice. It turns out, though, that lots of French Guyanese families vacation in Suriname due to the proximity and cheaper prices, so I heard quite a bit of French.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sDE4Nq0m8jE43SMriIYbEDQFXOwJxbsL0_kKbJI8FtIxDlmb2uXFC47j3H0Idjct_GfhD3W7yfyA-kehK0q33p2sv_dl_Y_O-X4g0jHJtdHNSn0te5_GxEyLJ0e68Gzsw-zRwJQvnS9NMagWmC47OTEEWvkv8oK-fsFN-87yXUZqYcn-qJICZNr46ScB/s4032/IMG_5947.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sDE4Nq0m8jE43SMriIYbEDQFXOwJxbsL0_kKbJI8FtIxDlmb2uXFC47j3H0Idjct_GfhD3W7yfyA-kehK0q33p2sv_dl_Y_O-X4g0jHJtdHNSn0te5_GxEyLJ0e68Gzsw-zRwJQvnS9NMagWmC47OTEEWvkv8oK-fsFN-87yXUZqYcn-qJICZNr46ScB/s320/IMG_5947.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Live for stuff like this. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7WpKO7YOFEC8YSA9MTke_OINRcxldeYWu_7yvWLoZ4G3nrr20qYxlTBjCiDDh1PFdRry2iGBN00K26g2GfmyAVJrjC46hybgriXUNahrpD7PbE3oQDc4u63-TObF0xIZpJqcBuUMYEoKpJpjRouA5CgcmHBiq2xwITX_vmUt7BEPw4KZwVQ80jTD4D17/s3598/IMG_6051.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2142" data-original-width="3598" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib7WpKO7YOFEC8YSA9MTke_OINRcxldeYWu_7yvWLoZ4G3nrr20qYxlTBjCiDDh1PFdRry2iGBN00K26g2GfmyAVJrjC46hybgriXUNahrpD7PbE3oQDc4u63-TObF0xIZpJqcBuUMYEoKpJpjRouA5CgcmHBiq2xwITX_vmUt7BEPw4KZwVQ80jTD4D17/s320/IMG_6051.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The colonial Dutch houses could be charming...</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9VSj2ICqVoYz8gRft4uuSHAOuTxD0RF5rhTNo17IfakNUUZQ3QdGnSMoYpjebozQt0an_YWawCjhe4xuhhxCwCqjVjqXu_Su4K-pBqJjNb15QyxqboqyeN1f772VFZf54Za40rClIWBWq7qzmnoko52HkeSHLlSOR5AKV1aIVvb6PLTNIOM7IrGVIDVQ/s4032/IMG_6035.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9VSj2ICqVoYz8gRft4uuSHAOuTxD0RF5rhTNo17IfakNUUZQ3QdGnSMoYpjebozQt0an_YWawCjhe4xuhhxCwCqjVjqXu_Su4K-pBqJjNb15QyxqboqyeN1f772VFZf54Za40rClIWBWq7qzmnoko52HkeSHLlSOR5AKV1aIVvb6PLTNIOM7IrGVIDVQ/s320/IMG_6035.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">... or straight out of a horror movie, depending on level of upkeep.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>It was here that the tour took a very unfortunate administrative turn. Up to this point our tour organizer had been super helpful and communicative. She also gave us a new itinerary when we arrived that had some updates on it due to changing tour guide availability, etc. Once we even had a misunderstanding about the day’s activities, and she assured me that I needed to follow the new itinerary, not the one I printed out and brought with me. So I dutifully folded up the original itinerary and put it into my ‘not using anymore’ wallet sleeve and everything was fine… BUT THEN:</div><div><br /></div><div>The hotel staff in Paramaribo told us that we needed to pay for another night since our flight was super late (like 3am) and we wouldn’t be leaving until around 10pm on our checkout day. Totally fine and reasonable, should have been in the planning document, but ok. So we stay another night, then pack, and head to the airport (over 2 hour drive very late at night). The airport was… deserted. No travelers, no airline employees, not even a security guard. There was a screen that had a few flights on it… the next one was in three days. Keeping our driver close so as not to be abandoned in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, I frantically pulled out the new itinerary. Yes, we were definitely supposed to be here now… Slowly, painfully, I retrieved the original itinerary and saw the issue. The tour organizer had made the classic blunder of telling us to show up for a flight at 3am on, say, August 18, “early” at 11pm… on August 18. Which is, of course, almost a full day after the flight left. I was speechless. The only thing to do was to go back to the hotel (a loooong 2 hours), feverishly book new tickets and hotel nights, and wait for the soonest flight, which was 3 days away. I got a partial refund from the company, but it wasn’t even close to what needed to be paid in new flights and hotel fees. I also realized that the woman was telling her employees that it was my mistake. After he got off the phone with her, our driver said to us, “Wow! Too bad you got the dates wrong, huh?” I was livid, but hey, what am I gonna do, keep fighting until everyone knows their coworker effed up? I let it go.</div><div><br /></div><div>We made the best of our miserable forced layover, and even managed to have a magical moment in a Surinamese park. Dr. Karine and I were frolicking, with some dignified reserve, on the seesaws and merry-go-round in the park. This is one of the places I heard a lot of French, and deduced that a lot of the families here were from French Guyana, and happily I could understand them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I had been pushing Dr. K. on the merry-go-round for a bit when the energy in the park changed. The children who had been playing on their own shifted from playing to silently surveilling: someone with slightly larger muscles and substantial momentum-inducing body mass was pushing the merry-go-round and it had not escaped their notice. They wanted in. It started with an adorable duo of 6 year olds who, in the most polite French you’ve ever heard, asked, “Madame, will you push us too?” Once they got a yes, the rest of the kids came running over and picked out their spots. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MWscn8decTI" width="320" youtube-src-id="MWscn8decTI"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Again, dignified reserve reigns supreme.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: "Are we ready?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Them, adorably: "Yes!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me: "Ok, here we go!"</div><div><br /></div><div>We also saw a very, very hot but very pleasant butterfly tour. Did you know Suriname exports butterflies? Weird, right?</div><div><br /></div><div>So we finally made it out of Suriname. Luckily we had planned to be in Brazil for 5 days, so the 3 day pushback still enabled us to get a little bit of Brazil time and still take our original flights from Brazil to the states. We were in Brasilia, which is apparently kind of the equivalent of visiting Ohio and saying you’ve been to the U.S., but I still found it awesome. We walked several kilometers a day (shout out to Dr. K., exceeding my cardio health with a 40 year age gap). One day, out of our hotel and near a monument, we stumbled upon some incredibly talented Capoeira athletes. They weren’t buskers; it was a group of people from local gyms who happened to be performing. It. Was. Awesome.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/X0bKR0IVUOQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="X0bKR0IVUOQ"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WHqFU0R57Cw" width="320" youtube-src-id="WHqFU0R57Cw"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Brasilia presented a drastic difference from the Guyanas. 6 and 7 lane highways, long stretches of fields between huge monuments… we definitely weren’t in crumbling dirt road territory anymore. Here we mostly relaxed and tried to recover from our stressful time in Suriname. We even hunted down the <a href="https://www.papaacainativo.com.br/" target="_blank">best acai bowl in Brasilia</a>, which is very deserving of the accolade. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6x-LVGJFgwcT9_EN9EIE4m0NJjlvYJDtVvOwKnBI1GKebSkQ7JMZRtsrUa_B-209DSDunHxTuEBnMjTFWadEUVp2XByHLyrN6FKBmlirb3R3dsWgQNm47_1x4XbQJmRFg4WwNQqX0uyf0XTAg0BTFNmky3ZNsBzblGJSrkjrUoWqxouT4Z7MSEoJ3LwEq/s4032/IMG_6250.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6x-LVGJFgwcT9_EN9EIE4m0NJjlvYJDtVvOwKnBI1GKebSkQ7JMZRtsrUa_B-209DSDunHxTuEBnMjTFWadEUVp2XByHLyrN6FKBmlirb3R3dsWgQNm47_1x4XbQJmRFg4WwNQqX0uyf0XTAg0BTFNmky3ZNsBzblGJSrkjrUoWqxouT4Z7MSEoJ3LwEq/s320/IMG_6250.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Even with the airport snafu, we had an amazing time and would still do this tour again – just make sure sure sure any changed itineraries still accurately reflect your flight details. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here is <a href="https://www.traveltheguianas.com/" target="_blank">the company we used</a>, with mixed results as you know. Let me know if you go!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br style="font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-838216195343005852023-09-09T16:38:00.033-07:002023-09-23T18:45:41.692-07:00How to visit the Uyuni Salt Flats in Bolivia<p style="text-align: left;">As mentioned <a href="https://www.howitworksdaily.com/how-do-salt-flats-form/#:~:text=Salt%20flats%20are%20dried%2Dup,behind%20as%20a%20solid%20layer." target="_blank">here</a>, salt flats are "dried-up desert lakes. They form in closed hollows where rainfall can’t drain away. In a wet climate, a lake would form but, in a desert, the water is heated and evaporates into vapour faster than it is replenished by rain. The salt and minerals dissolved in the water are left behind as a solid layer." Even with that explanation, they still blow your mind in person. </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GnQ3bfO9Fd8" width="320" youtube-src-id="GnQ3bfO9Fd8"></iframe></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote><p></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;">If anyone you know has visited the Salt Flats, you've probably seen the <a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=563475517&sxsrf=AB5stBgZOQp0grj7G0h9SeKCqxgNIYEckw:1694115621573&q=salt+flats&tbm=isch&source=lnms&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjM2dO-oJmBAxXYFFkFHcRCCgoQ0pQJegQIEBAB&biw=1389&bih=679&dpr=1.8" target="_blank">epic pictures</a> that result. The, well, flatness of the areas make them a mecca for those who want to take proportion-bending photographs and those who want to have <a href="https://www.visitutah.com/Articles/Salt-Speed" target="_blank">automobile races</a>. There are salt flats in the United States in Utah and New Mexico, but the biggest one in the world is just outside of Uyuni, in rural Bolivia. </p><p style="text-align: left;">By rural, I mean RURAL. From the US, you'll need a plane ride (or multiple), a taxi, an overnight bus, and then a multi-hour car ride to get there. But it's worth it! Tour groups offer multiple trip durations from a day trip to over a week. We went with the 3 day, two night option from <a href="https://www.uyunitransandino.com/" target="_blank">Trans Andino</a> and were generally quite happy. We elected to share a car instead of doing the private tour, which was of course cheaper, and had other pros and cons that I'll mention.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Bolivia requires a visa for Americans, and it costs $160 and they prefer US cash. It's good for 10 years once you have it, but getting it is a pain. Bolivian consulates are <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/search/bolivia+consulate/@27.3819188,-139.8263371,3z/data=!3m1!4b1?entry=ttu" target="_blank">few and far between</a>, so I did visa on arrival, which is not too bad if you brought <a href="https://www.boliviawdc.org/en-us/consular-affairs/visas/tourist-visa" target="_blank">all the paperwork</a> you're supposed to have. I had everything, but for my 2x2 photograph I had brought a copy, and they wanted an original. That mistake set me back about 3 hours in the airport as I waited in a line with other Americans to get my photo taken and a slapdash visa printed. Make sure you also have copies of everything; I had to give them one of my two itinerary copies and if I hadn't printed another one things could have been ugly. I have looked online for the eVisa option and only come across third parties selling you the service for a higher fee, and I can't speak for any of them. The usual rules apply: leave yourself plenty of time for all flights, with several hours of cushion on both sides, for this kind of thing.</p><p style="text-align: left;">You start by flying into La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. At least in August, I found that all the flight options I had were in the middle of the night for some reason. This trend continued throughout all my South America travels. Sadly the late hour didn't translate to sparsely populated flights - each one was chock full. I often had to book hotels for the night before my arrival so that I could check in at 6am or some other crazy hour.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Don't forget that La Paz is the highest capital city in the world at over 11,000 feet. You may want to acclimate nearby for a few days (Bogotá, Colombia at 8,661 feet isn't too far away). I did not acclimate and boy did I feel it - especially because the salt flats are much higher than La Paz. </p><p style="text-align: left;">La Paz is a great place to stock up on some altitude sickness remedies, especially if that is all you are able to focus on due to a crushing headache and sucking wind (🙋🏻♀️). The thing you want is coca leaves. You can buy them as tea or candy, but the real heavy hitters are the pure leaves sold in a home-tied bag with no label. We got a bag that easily supplied two people for 5 days and two different types of candy for $2. Some candy has a little added sugar, and I would go with just that one. I also bought one that was marked as candy but it was just melted and hardened leaves, and it was quite bitter. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHOkUDw77dO_T6hbm1dE45b2eKlG-RWilECaSuS5Pz0MZznIadBD9kE_U9aqjXNAoreMV9jWAknzZyldMjI48qSNvijyGX6IjRtUlUkDjIZC8BT8l-djsFULiAcWiOjGFVz_IaCz9SRUoBZqaspMC1MZ91GkzbPr0x30NTpc3oa9x4NsAK8l8Q8zLgvsH/s4032/IMG_4693.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHOkUDw77dO_T6hbm1dE45b2eKlG-RWilECaSuS5Pz0MZznIadBD9kE_U9aqjXNAoreMV9jWAknzZyldMjI48qSNvijyGX6IjRtUlUkDjIZC8BT8l-djsFULiAcWiOjGFVz_IaCz9SRUoBZqaspMC1MZ91GkzbPr0x30NTpc3oa9x4NsAK8l8Q8zLgvsH/s320/IMG_4693.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Slurping coca leaves tea and doing the physical work I could muster upon arrival in La Paz, which was lying in bed.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYdMPglyhPRQ8pUxR3uIGvdYZpsl-UaXCRjj2B1FDREDT3bd0AVuoKmulXNpu2LGxVBToAYHEsSgxH4xcdmc-TXEmo2EJ6kySimv8nkvwKNDFa2m6Xwl5-rzMnwjxwR7E--a5O2pCqRwmUEqTsy0FxZ-_2ioLESmkefMVRVF3OeT-x21coHn3376qbcXg/s4032/IMG_4715.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYdMPglyhPRQ8pUxR3uIGvdYZpsl-UaXCRjj2B1FDREDT3bd0AVuoKmulXNpu2LGxVBToAYHEsSgxH4xcdmc-TXEmo2EJ6kySimv8nkvwKNDFa2m6Xwl5-rzMnwjxwR7E--a5O2pCqRwmUEqTsy0FxZ-_2ioLESmkefMVRVF3OeT-x21coHn3376qbcXg/s320/IMG_4715.jpg" width="240" /></a><br /><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking around La Paz. Up this charming alley we found our coca store.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2YweUwVyvhU3919lfSd26njUmgWqEaceq6Nn4oESuN2s5xYYUBXmpgvdc3Q7px95y6PAFWUTbC3ST50qmNwJhp1zSlu-VwcZ4UxyvX8snb1b9SaFWmOfkWQoRz4NbcPFu7Q_c1y0DlsD0PIre86o00Cf3bYOzAl83pKrPiZVn7WbJU2VJ_aFRGKjUrz5/s4032/IMG_4742.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2YweUwVyvhU3919lfSd26njUmgWqEaceq6Nn4oESuN2s5xYYUBXmpgvdc3Q7px95y6PAFWUTbC3ST50qmNwJhp1zSlu-VwcZ4UxyvX8snb1b9SaFWmOfkWQoRz4NbcPFu7Q_c1y0DlsD0PIre86o00Cf3bYOzAl83pKrPiZVn7WbJU2VJ_aFRGKjUrz5/s320/IMG_4742.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was sold in that very official store. Don't let the garage sale packaging deter you.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB141YWUygz72k5sxKg-nGxVvohYLSHC4RUryXgcrQSI_jpnPR4S6jcCBxyNIykrQn6k4yVu_qTSljJXK93ozU-tHPhHR-zCRS2yKJDMc9TWc444J7D6eVW71q073wbqLl6dv-ugJqiBpPyMnQZRt1jgW9ZPO3ICwUt6pXlkwJD4SVrf9YDiyTDNcxLN6L/s4032/IMG_4743.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB141YWUygz72k5sxKg-nGxVvohYLSHC4RUryXgcrQSI_jpnPR4S6jcCBxyNIykrQn6k4yVu_qTSljJXK93ozU-tHPhHR-zCRS2yKJDMc9TWc444J7D6eVW71q073wbqLl6dv-ugJqiBpPyMnQZRt1jgW9ZPO3ICwUt6pXlkwJD4SVrf9YDiyTDNcxLN6L/s320/IMG_4743.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never enough. I was chewing, drinking, and sucking coca leaves all day every day. If they had sold it in vapor form I would definitely have bought that too.</td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: left;">To get the benefits from your coca leaves, take 3-5 leaves and fold them in half, then maybe in half again, and tuck them in between your cheek and back teeth on one side. Then just forget about it and live life. You can even drink water with them still there. The coca juice slowly dissolves and you absorb it when you swallow your saliva. In about 20 minutes the headache goes away!</p><p style="text-align: left;">I was sorely tempted to make jokes about being a coke addict, because I was on these leaves like white on rice due to my lack of acclimatization and possibly general frailty. "Haha, need my fix!" or "Is 7am too early to do my coke?" <b>But that is a huge no-no in this region</b>. It's not funny to joke about a drug that is responsible for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcotics_in_Bolivia">widespread murder, corruption, and terrorism</a>; every local you speak to knows someone who has died in the drug trade (said my guide in Colombia). Plus, you need 18 other chemical components and processing to turn coca leaves into cocaine, so it's not accurate OR funny. So resist the urge.</p><p style="text-align: left;">From La Paz, you take an overnight bus to Uyuni. We stayed at a <a href="https://www.hotels.com/ho1463612128/hostal-bellavista-inn-la-paz-bolivia/?locale=en_US&pos=HCOM_US&siteid=300000001" target="_blank">hostel</a> that was a couple minute walk from the bus terminal since this is not the time or place we wanted to be at the mercy of traffic or directional mishaps. </p><p style="text-align: left;">There are several bus companies that make the La Paz - Uyuni trek, and all of them are overnight. You should go with one called <a href="https://www.todoturismosrl.com/" target="_blank">Todo Turismo</a>. It's the "luxury" one that's reviewed as far safer than the cheaper alternatives. It's more than double the price of companies that a local would choose, but even so, in USD it was around $80 for a round trip ticket (about 20 hours of travel!). The comfort is decent - the seats lay almost flat, but not close enough, and if someone is seated right next to you you'll still feel cramped. You're paying for the direct route. Reviewers for other companies complained that their drivers kept stopping to pick up more passengers, and when they were asleep there was no way to look out for who is taking what bag from the storage hold. Some tourists had their stuff taken in the night. I did a little overkill: even with my fancy company I still brought my pack with me onto the bus instead of putting it in the hold. I very politely asked* if I could switch my assigned spot to one next to an empty seat, and luckily they accommodated me both times. I went way overboard and locked my bag to the arm rest with a little <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00I5IWCPA/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_search_asin_title?ie=UTF8&th=1" target="_blank">travel lock</a> that I usually use for skiing. I'm glad I did, because even the Todo Turismo bus made some unannounced and unexplained stops (they announce one for a driver switch, but they stopped at least 6 times). It seemed to go fine for everyone even if their luggage was in the hold, but if you really want to sleep peacefully, it's nice to have the extra security.</p><p style="text-align: left;">*You should <a href="https://www.youtube.com/c/LingoLearner" target="_blank">learn Spanish</a> if you haven't already. English was technically a possibility but I wouldn't count on it in the rural areas.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBntvaJ4HfmJM4-340B2CS-4OinMCMp31NNqR0DISO0x-yrGAUm3nIEIjjXknMyn4nXFa3CB5or93rMBC4VCS7E1HJSrLSokKW0Rrp2G33Ij8YoipWVWfZVtHrd7iefa6NgL0-jlqiZJNuM_F46j_qaFQqJSHKrMAsW9cusU14r6Y2zG74f8X_CIbtODei/s4032/IMG_4732.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBntvaJ4HfmJM4-340B2CS-4OinMCMp31NNqR0DISO0x-yrGAUm3nIEIjjXknMyn4nXFa3CB5or93rMBC4VCS7E1HJSrLSokKW0Rrp2G33Ij8YoipWVWfZVtHrd7iefa6NgL0-jlqiZJNuM_F46j_qaFQqJSHKrMAsW9cusU14r6Y2zG74f8X_CIbtODei/s320/IMG_4732.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;">The company gives you a water bottle, blanket, and travel pillow for the ride. If you don't get those things in the office make sure to ask for them before the bus leaves. There is a restroom on board, but the sign says in all caps ONLY FOR PEEING, so don't get any ideas about #2. There are TONS of speed bumps on the ~10 hour drive, and they always seemed to catch our driver off guard. After a bump he would floor the accelerator, then slamp on the brake about a minute later for the next bump. Not the best environment for sleeping - in hindsight I would probably advise popping a valerian or melatonin. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I brought my inflatable travel pillow and used it a lot.</p><p style="text-align: left;">So after a night full of driving and hopefully full of sleep, you'll arrive at a plateau right at sunrise for a break (not a pee break and DEFINITELY NO #2 DON'T FORGET). It's a break for the employees and the driver, but it's a lovely sunrise view of the Bolivian desert for the travelers too. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQ4zFulUJSUeaYMLnBzEPlUTHImoAQbBd3PtboHC7fbzBJCOSggGQAgQN4j8Xaf5d2p-zlXL5x6pvVomSCD0q2k6-lC5UGm0eXPj5UIKnC9rOCPnoHnwan-UXFyAsHy6tvae4R79sYWMFSRoJq2DPD4yiIci8toPabktpveru-mxSWdLJUAZK1WIJSw2H/s4032/IMG_4735.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQ4zFulUJSUeaYMLnBzEPlUTHImoAQbBd3PtboHC7fbzBJCOSggGQAgQN4j8Xaf5d2p-zlXL5x6pvVomSCD0q2k6-lC5UGm0eXPj5UIKnC9rOCPnoHnwan-UXFyAsHy6tvae4R79sYWMFSRoJq2DPD4yiIci8toPabktpveru-mxSWdLJUAZK1WIJSw2H/s320/IMG_4735.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBys7ntiyvNm7yFVGHk3k05bHEaifh9PNzi_bZ9HH3CuzCBhDbpuX-Jox8TM71bwx3aKHBdMd6om5e41LtJpZxllzXOu4baPTQjml_O-vcZ_P9JogbiKqwq4uDDwRfDiRDctkEKLAOWuQa0JL-v98OmRgXJHRkxSY6WUJbQPqD40jq9gE8lZtjmgojJ7ak/s2100/IMG_4738.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="1576" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBys7ntiyvNm7yFVGHk3k05bHEaifh9PNzi_bZ9HH3CuzCBhDbpuX-Jox8TM71bwx3aKHBdMd6om5e41LtJpZxllzXOu4baPTQjml_O-vcZ_P9JogbiKqwq4uDDwRfDiRDctkEKLAOWuQa0JL-v98OmRgXJHRkxSY6WUJbQPqD40jq9gE8lZtjmgojJ7ak/s320/IMG_4738.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A frozen sunrise. Don't forget August is the dead of winter, and the altitude in the highlands means extra cold.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: left;">When we got to Uyuni, which is actually a town several hours from the flats themselves (no bus could drive close up to the flats), we had some awkward maneuvers: a random person would come and ask our names, and if we were on their list, we would go somewhere with them. The first stop was a breakfast restaurant (0 Michelin stars and not on the way to one anytime soon), then to the Tours Andino office "downtown" to go over the itinerary, meet our guide and co-travelers, and load up the car.</p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4yuW8GepotW7rPDouqgeMCZC4Wftu6AqUkKi06hga0brlQKuSHQXY_VEExQjeGW7maWV7TBxP6nR2_mkdYHWa0NqG-JpwFWLH2xob_DRnxZa7NsbR7Ii3rXTueq4Roi6WElPuxlnaZ0iD7UhZFA2oS1vtTC-D56p15B9h0tTzH1fkKlPQyi21ESIYxmfL/s4032/IMG_4757.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4yuW8GepotW7rPDouqgeMCZC4Wftu6AqUkKi06hga0brlQKuSHQXY_VEExQjeGW7maWV7TBxP6nR2_mkdYHWa0NqG-JpwFWLH2xob_DRnxZa7NsbR7Ii3rXTueq4Roi6WElPuxlnaZ0iD7UhZFA2oS1vtTC-D56p15B9h0tTzH1fkKlPQyi21ESIYxmfL/s320/IMG_4757.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our awesome guide Luis loading the SUV<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Lucky us! We happened to be there during <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bolivian_War_of_Independence" target="_blank">Bolivian independence day</a> (wait, I mean, we totally knew exactly when that was and planned it intentionally...). As a result we saw some lovely parades and rallies. The visuals were amazing, but the audio was very strange. There were tons of little children and some of them had special roles reciting speeches, blaring through a microphone turned up way too high. These children had clearly been selected for their ability to sob uncontrollably while still annunciating their speeches clearly. The content focused on how they would gladly die for their country and that willingness moved them to tears. It was... uncomfortable. Propaganda and patriotism take some weird forms in this world.<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifuJPRuqMkj_PvkvwM_5-eqOUEg7KESHDDAR8y_jG8AmfvKMuA99ypJrHGE4FDOBjaWxPfl1R3GmQGxrmw2BiAug3PbpSTTzjx2yKBUplINWb0_m5_AF6wUE4x2g_AND66k2200gI53J5upgJFJBEjv9xHv-u0oastvfWfh6w9jBj07wQN6ZS8FwPl81TQ/s3640/IMG_4751.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3640" data-original-width="2886" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifuJPRuqMkj_PvkvwM_5-eqOUEg7KESHDDAR8y_jG8AmfvKMuA99ypJrHGE4FDOBjaWxPfl1R3GmQGxrmw2BiAug3PbpSTTzjx2yKBUplINWb0_m5_AF6wUE4x2g_AND66k2200gI53J5upgJFJBEjv9xHv-u0oastvfWfh6w9jBj07wQN6ZS8FwPl81TQ/s320/IMG_4751.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLDe8JAWG_0i-VqlECsp4AdVqzfYGumlFVAbaY5PxRojlqqjX7_5bu4tEkjDJSWABAXrva0SsI2KOAD30yNwjeAZ5vLiMfQPhkNhy50bnUsmiXvDi8UuhtghpcTavsFvzlQ5joKJnrFm9m5UD-xQeHrH70pl7kaisgW9rf2yJl73T-v6i6rgZAO8RM8g6/s3765/IMG_4755.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2084" data-original-width="3765" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLDe8JAWG_0i-VqlECsp4AdVqzfYGumlFVAbaY5PxRojlqqjX7_5bu4tEkjDJSWABAXrva0SsI2KOAD30yNwjeAZ5vLiMfQPhkNhy50bnUsmiXvDi8UuhtghpcTavsFvzlQ5joKJnrFm9m5UD-xQeHrH70pl7kaisgW9rf2yJl73T-v6i6rgZAO8RM8g6/s320/IMG_4755.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bolivia won independence from Spain in 1825.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was a multi-hour drive to the flats, which aren't really in Uyuni but in a vast expanse outside the town. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The first stop is to the abandoned train yard where you can climb on some rusty old trains. I was mostly here for the flats and my attitude toward the trains was "... ok, sure."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaoRKgav5xV0y07x8R9niZ1b9UUdU_KErQ3MIQZzgFg5ib59oRbSmliiKckQ7GI4JUp8v4A1D6pR8HVNfHSe7TO9cLUMzaqHLWaMhqTbyYwc4utFlqVs33SjmO0ph7vRJDIqmnIDHV8fEJYOJuJPKNuwXKvr7Ov6QRUrO-zJ3tQEZAzTByH3mFcBYBl3x/s4032/IMG_4784.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaoRKgav5xV0y07x8R9niZ1b9UUdU_KErQ3MIQZzgFg5ib59oRbSmliiKckQ7GI4JUp8v4A1D6pR8HVNfHSe7TO9cLUMzaqHLWaMhqTbyYwc4utFlqVs33SjmO0ph7vRJDIqmnIDHV8fEJYOJuJPKNuwXKvr7Ov6QRUrO-zJ3tQEZAzTByH3mFcBYBl3x/s320/IMG_4784.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">🤷🏻♀️</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfXJYviUqy-LBTNkLZTBUcce1SeSJblgUJw6Nr6cWCCCAI5m-WNUR-kZ4li0POQPX0oV9GdokUKM_R1dBpku_0D3YriKcu-gXKxCQakB_4DsJA419JafxdVMCjfJ-fazfLEnw5W1QbbhJU7t5tkoCN3OhL36Pzz8115rIvmN3X4mUKvG20CNEVjZFqZRb/s4032/IMG_4812.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfXJYviUqy-LBTNkLZTBUcce1SeSJblgUJw6Nr6cWCCCAI5m-WNUR-kZ4li0POQPX0oV9GdokUKM_R1dBpku_0D3YriKcu-gXKxCQakB_4DsJA419JafxdVMCjfJ-fazfLEnw5W1QbbhJU7t5tkoCN3OhL36Pzz8115rIvmN3X4mUKvG20CNEVjZFqZRb/s320/IMG_4812.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then our guide led us through a salt manufacturing plant. They export and keep the salt local, and even add iodine to it right there off the flats. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeXb46hRfytj7Or8vudSHTVlPkGmdXiC2yJ7-dCXJbgTwNNy1_kVZCOBOwKQBuwyrvYAwv5Bl3hX05RI1naNT6MlsT0OK4DfcDKpNOzEcGVFoOVbI6UDXNyCa8UbfHrR4i2c4c3eXBjmhAmhNB3Z2sBVUXoSgFd2F9T34gd1T1t4aNVSd2L7SXlohkAJb/s4032/IMG_4830.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeXb46hRfytj7Or8vudSHTVlPkGmdXiC2yJ7-dCXJbgTwNNy1_kVZCOBOwKQBuwyrvYAwv5Bl3hX05RI1naNT6MlsT0OK4DfcDKpNOzEcGVFoOVbI6UDXNyCa8UbfHrR4i2c4c3eXBjmhAmhNB3Z2sBVUXoSgFd2F9T34gd1T1t4aNVSd2L7SXlohkAJb/s320/IMG_4830.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_87RmOPVVvnH8272kY29XRf5sBJrx2yLu7OP4WoLA7CQCUVTFotd-eeRS_-L8eid6r-AXNDUEn2ERdcUD4YITgnorV-d1CwEmO8mkkI-ivKhek_rSJVXUzAM4oGYmzYN7oFZKyuujnoPX183FFI_RF-aTnjCuwL3JICl9xRHBea0XEhECXt1363sAhtie/s4032/IMG_4831.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_87RmOPVVvnH8272kY29XRf5sBJrx2yLu7OP4WoLA7CQCUVTFotd-eeRS_-L8eid6r-AXNDUEn2ERdcUD4YITgnorV-d1CwEmO8mkkI-ivKhek_rSJVXUzAM4oGYmzYN7oFZKyuujnoPX183FFI_RF-aTnjCuwL3JICl9xRHBea0XEhECXt1363sAhtie/s320/IMG_4831.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was time to go out to the flats. I was ready.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0cQQuN7mDNUmg0Hxau8OaNjror4jhs693DqdbHr65hQnSCZQN72AJ3k5BTbTgNSgXqQ40tWINU-nHwqNXR2SA8qODxFe4WzUMDE0cDddpF1ae8YQklgrngiQzk5o6-WkQtai_qq4fNjmjDtEhsLV6wLvTZ9k8wJxXj_lXeLBafBXDa0ydTgZS2UupTe99/s4032/IMG_4840.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0cQQuN7mDNUmg0Hxau8OaNjror4jhs693DqdbHr65hQnSCZQN72AJ3k5BTbTgNSgXqQ40tWINU-nHwqNXR2SA8qODxFe4WzUMDE0cDddpF1ae8YQklgrngiQzk5o6-WkQtai_qq4fNjmjDtEhsLV6wLvTZ9k8wJxXj_lXeLBafBXDa0ydTgZS2UupTe99/s320/IMG_4840.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was incredibly cool. The cold winter weather was exacerbated by the altitude, but the relentless sun reflecting off the salt resulted in me sporting short sleeves for most of the visit.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQyktC4TeLO11QaLhBj7o3AeiiRana6tVrv0t-RNvdFZCkHMnbYrNpGU47OL5ZacWCtC7oL751FifiCLa5FZSPgGAJ7V0pZnVt8T1Gzta607E7iIGT5ggdazbjFKJyvL3xGLYKbcfyqT4c4STsI984qhjGGeJlsRAh6joZ-n865vhMR0yozwFxORcqeQH/s3814/IMG_4848.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2860" data-original-width="3814" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQyktC4TeLO11QaLhBj7o3AeiiRana6tVrv0t-RNvdFZCkHMnbYrNpGU47OL5ZacWCtC7oL751FifiCLa5FZSPgGAJ7V0pZnVt8T1Gzta607E7iIGT5ggdazbjFKJyvL3xGLYKbcfyqT4c4STsI984qhjGGeJlsRAh6joZ-n865vhMR0yozwFxORcqeQH/s320/IMG_4848.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Something about the underwater pools evaporating through the salt results in these hexagon shapes of salt ridges along the flat plains.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9enaEjKjlUt_cmGs5QveQCDkm_hynZyS9ZhnG1tmYz3ADE0FTO6CQDp4rTP5twH9mspXs366F_BAt2Ke3rFcWNRzuj_AnmPWJwsSkaAwg9vAAfH8SdDFT2cUO8TnsKF3l_Xe82xVV2xNFOHtN9CARxiHV1wwNqr3k3-x42qWSptokcQmHVVDir6xOsIf/s4032/IMG_4903.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9enaEjKjlUt_cmGs5QveQCDkm_hynZyS9ZhnG1tmYz3ADE0FTO6CQDp4rTP5twH9mspXs366F_BAt2Ke3rFcWNRzuj_AnmPWJwsSkaAwg9vAAfH8SdDFT2cUO8TnsKF3l_Xe82xVV2xNFOHtN9CARxiHV1wwNqr3k3-x42qWSptokcQmHVVDir6xOsIf/s320/IMG_4903.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh hey didn't see you there!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgDrSIJ7nF6KnamEyeTNevlgTJvwk-_KSNkexGY2JxA2wp15e14p1rrT98clWny7Ou5wBNStY16NtIGrcfANr9tcLkDv_A-cihLmmYQNQFY0CHixKDEAQPdhVaL1Ptm4h7cpD2PXXof81Q-fXsk4GOYDN8ttoGyVTET9YvwajPlIVNfnLIoNWe54hYtHe/s3729/IMG_5045.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3729" data-original-width="2797" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgDrSIJ7nF6KnamEyeTNevlgTJvwk-_KSNkexGY2JxA2wp15e14p1rrT98clWny7Ou5wBNStY16NtIGrcfANr9tcLkDv_A-cihLmmYQNQFY0CHixKDEAQPdhVaL1Ptm4h7cpD2PXXof81Q-fXsk4GOYDN8ttoGyVTET9YvwajPlIVNfnLIoNWe54hYtHe/s320/IMG_5045.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pensively considering the flats.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We stayed for about 45 minutes taking pictures. It was harder than it looked because the altitude was even higher than La Paz, so if I jumped for a photo I had to keel over and recover for several minutes. I put all the jumping ones on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/Cvx520ZvzpC/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==" target="_blank">Instagram</a>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Since we were on the multi-day tour instead of going straight to the flats and back, we had quite a few extra sights to see. I'm gonna be brutally honest with you: while I would do the same tour selection again, the other sights are nowhere near the level of the flats. Other stops include the abandoned train yard, a flamingo lake, some hot springs... definitely interesting and worth doing, but not life changing. Still, you're gonna want to break up all the driving time involved, especially if you are in a group. We shared a guide with 3 Danes and an Englishman who, in line with global trends, were quite tall. The passenger seat in our SUV was highly sought after, followed by the middle row. Two unfortunate souls, though, had to sit crunched in the back seat with knees almost up to chests for several hours over sometimes bumpy terrain. We also ended up driving at least 3 extra hours because the others in our group were continuing on to Chile instead of retracing our steps like our itinerary called for, so there were inconveniences going in the non-private group. But it also meant we got to meet new people and get some really cool group pictures:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_E3pTA10ZoxP1dpbbWcQyRlxKbQUq1lQPG4pmMLKmtLJreRrEMum3-eVSjBBXowRtFX9giJQZ9zXZjtZzRfjhvH19_EihtesqtLetcYnfspT9XSQYsgDPqVxx0K99M_nLEFhhs-sAPwm4snn87Lt8BCLxkOKcDAiavCa8w9NG-1XYN0UyAXYs28cS5pO/s4032/IMG_7994.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_E3pTA10ZoxP1dpbbWcQyRlxKbQUq1lQPG4pmMLKmtLJreRrEMum3-eVSjBBXowRtFX9giJQZ9zXZjtZzRfjhvH19_EihtesqtLetcYnfspT9XSQYsgDPqVxx0K99M_nLEFhhs-sAPwm4snn87Lt8BCLxkOKcDAiavCa8w9NG-1XYN0UyAXYs28cS5pO/s320/IMG_7994.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I had constantly been ridiculing the people who take the goofy perspective pictures with props. I've seen them with people coming out of pringles cans, being chased by a T-rex... corny, cringe stuff. I'm pretty sure I said to my friend Juliana, "Shoot me if I do any pictures like that." But then Luis whipped out a toy Godzilla. I'm glad Juliana wasn't armed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98y0rTSsG1NNXeORW8RFlmdSWXYz0ZxecpR8uCpxrxCi-rCp65JPZTIdl8IB02euH54Es3mV2_1DxoOQ6RoBVzmWHJ6j2cBUn9GSwG48fCkZ-k_IimTyACyi6W2DWMRrgXscdAb67-qGdvOTuBawY6Xz_xKSMqcWNlfaBof9D4CNsllUmrSSgKMsaX1t4/s4032/IMG_4859.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98y0rTSsG1NNXeORW8RFlmdSWXYz0ZxecpR8uCpxrxCi-rCp65JPZTIdl8IB02euH54Es3mV2_1DxoOQ6RoBVzmWHJ6j2cBUn9GSwG48fCkZ-k_IimTyACyi6W2DWMRrgXscdAb67-qGdvOTuBawY6Xz_xKSMqcWNlfaBof9D4CNsllUmrSSgKMsaX1t4/s320/IMG_4859.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is tied for the stupidest travel picture I've ever taken with the <a href="https://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2012/09/israel-jordan-egypt-uae-june-2012.html" target="_blank">mummy picture</a> in Egypt.</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgev-fzIGZwzs0jWbLffttUYogF8BhxydrBGH_3dYccfx_BGuS-A3_gBPliHonmqzNDRmDMjreWshvEMa8cstIxO89BpW9_zsK4uzot5jLrSWQMLXzKb5MvkauArtGIWdbKwp3hZldY4VcTzAg1K6q5IdW8r4VrSN16xDrkA928LTzGUX06bfZONRSf8Nb2/s4032/IMG_4865.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgev-fzIGZwzs0jWbLffttUYogF8BhxydrBGH_3dYccfx_BGuS-A3_gBPliHonmqzNDRmDMjreWshvEMa8cstIxO89BpW9_zsK4uzot5jLrSWQMLXzKb5MvkauArtGIWdbKwp3hZldY4VcTzAg1K6q5IdW8r4VrSN16xDrkA928LTzGUX06bfZONRSf8Nb2/s320/IMG_4865.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No comment.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLFGdgMd6yrzelnMGDOt1aAvduUmDTaYLGkeG0r6G60uou2boWrZijQy--WoSEpIDSZuf17PsusdKsAs7Bqm1QKLGhWO4cN0EPZpx8necZM8w47p_m5R8WIWxE9n2eSfWr_23EEJKlG9Xw62zxDToJ-YA4CIgA4T4E2oyiWfXnklhXDXoQ1VshvCdIbsI/s4032/IMG_3052.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLFGdgMd6yrzelnMGDOt1aAvduUmDTaYLGkeG0r6G60uou2boWrZijQy--WoSEpIDSZuf17PsusdKsAs7Bqm1QKLGhWO4cN0EPZpx8necZM8w47p_m5R8WIWxE9n2eSfWr_23EEJKlG9Xw62zxDToJ-YA4CIgA4T4E2oyiWfXnklhXDXoQ1VshvCdIbsI/s320/IMG_3052.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole car marveled at how realistic my foot looked on this guy's hand. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>In the middle of the salt flats is an island which is, obviously, filled with cacti. It's called Incahuasi. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA3km5wkZbR8xdLqhd-AAosIDYRMHSuNhlbSaXCotC7v4NhBJ7NVlLPjqn5aYhXEqi_Lj1kzbP8DJXJ-RDetJwqZ_CxPhoEx7b1aIcvIsPLbZJl-7GM-1mnZwKV7m12f0SZQv1-OAoQcdbLARw_BE4eKMbtdcWpH1CEhqLmfJniMwf3lazD74_Wu6GNU2/s3650/IMG_1679.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2673" data-original-width="3650" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNA3km5wkZbR8xdLqhd-AAosIDYRMHSuNhlbSaXCotC7v4NhBJ7NVlLPjqn5aYhXEqi_Lj1kzbP8DJXJ-RDetJwqZ_CxPhoEx7b1aIcvIsPLbZJl-7GM-1mnZwKV7m12f0SZQv1-OAoQcdbLARw_BE4eKMbtdcWpH1CEhqLmfJniMwf3lazD74_Wu6GNU2/s320/IMG_1679.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This place was pretty surreal. Here's a little more information, but not much: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isla_Incahuasi">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isla_Incahuasi</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYHClbznRQr3TvJ0dBo9dmxw2JS860AqZe2mXOFHus12BZSYsE12thTNOi-5CHGdcywWrwqyMg5NWQjZr_AhLkmQURvoBbmhOLw_OdaYrjjpgcVsq-fbdtehewce4CNGMdbAurIrLkyfaF0SZfLScn11iIMzjvFn4nSpZDpo1EGhtnnpSxj4MGkeNdf0c/s4032/IMG_5128.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYHClbznRQr3TvJ0dBo9dmxw2JS860AqZe2mXOFHus12BZSYsE12thTNOi-5CHGdcywWrwqyMg5NWQjZr_AhLkmQURvoBbmhOLw_OdaYrjjpgcVsq-fbdtehewce4CNGMdbAurIrLkyfaF0SZfLScn11iIMzjvFn4nSpZDpo1EGhtnnpSxj4MGkeNdf0c/s320/IMG_5128.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuFjEn1pS3RoV357--62LGTAbktdJ8Xdh0iX11oOJpNQKzO2QLfAOTSxNcCcMgh7lVkywyc7iK47uj-EC079ZaRMCMgH6sazk6cQcojbwmHxsHHfNtQ7RgpJeW_-c1s83Cu2woqj7oowk9vRHhUeEJwgEM7zO7q4zqcqOMM1tzj2g5MRkMH23uTfi_X6Z/s4032/IMG_5142.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuFjEn1pS3RoV357--62LGTAbktdJ8Xdh0iX11oOJpNQKzO2QLfAOTSxNcCcMgh7lVkywyc7iK47uj-EC079ZaRMCMgH6sazk6cQcojbwmHxsHHfNtQ7RgpJeW_-c1s83Cu2woqj7oowk9vRHhUeEJwgEM7zO7q4zqcqOMM1tzj2g5MRkMH23uTfi_X6Z/s320/IMG_5142.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the few moments I was not leaning heavily on rocks.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>As the afternoon was drawing to a close, Luis pulled out some wine glasses and a lovely local bottle for us to sip while watching the sunset on the flats. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0-R7dR7ls2eqosVgCbXaObsqXPaLH2a5a7tF3G24xGIS88vedBgD9G00mm5M90I-8UjYyUTNVKl_SklnWmIfMD2Maa5XjJRgeUG2ETyPqPoKq_4AmWY4SUEfajcXY_Y2loyVwVghdCgY4DuZSJ31cMflv9EKj5ZfMzTEd15lrCDEYRpRNa_-lpi52Qb9/s4032/IMG_8074.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0-R7dR7ls2eqosVgCbXaObsqXPaLH2a5a7tF3G24xGIS88vedBgD9G00mm5M90I-8UjYyUTNVKl_SklnWmIfMD2Maa5XjJRgeUG2ETyPqPoKq_4AmWY4SUEfajcXY_Y2loyVwVghdCgY4DuZSJ31cMflv9EKj5ZfMzTEd15lrCDEYRpRNa_-lpi52Qb9/s320/IMG_8074.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luis breaks out the wine.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGLovDFoflBNh1wZr359KF0ycNwhLA4XYWX8S5MExagM02bbih8jRQ5-Ve85J-R88GM0JxoW8JyUbnIT61ozN5140Gep1S-vtR--DSNcVhj-TQCqQPomAeZ3iWrZAmRwLB1yVTLKYSp1_l9jKQIfJRX67zuwWIcPz413TsavkgK7hqQoHQKz6lFer702v/s4032/IMG_8087.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGLovDFoflBNh1wZr359KF0ycNwhLA4XYWX8S5MExagM02bbih8jRQ5-Ve85J-R88GM0JxoW8JyUbnIT61ozN5140Gep1S-vtR--DSNcVhj-TQCqQPomAeZ3iWrZAmRwLB1yVTLKYSp1_l9jKQIfJRX67zuwWIcPz413TsavkgK7hqQoHQKz6lFer702v/s320/IMG_8087.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Danes, Brazilian, American, and Englishman drink to an awesome day.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj10a1zzTATPQDmBOePEJ6yiKCyhDdy_uTpmY2hDjGPQAfmOl18uQxoyApmcvRWTWXS_fJlvQJIAWVulwqr_TsnlbD8JtELWL5rmQniiKh0p8zPVknly1EXxa9VGnLST63JsTu8nxn3ia9o548K_-Ln0yWcC8eNWH227T3kuPl4OGEe2jiaWCTKuZHIrTBB/s3825/IMG_8102.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2621" data-original-width="3825" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj10a1zzTATPQDmBOePEJ6yiKCyhDdy_uTpmY2hDjGPQAfmOl18uQxoyApmcvRWTWXS_fJlvQJIAWVulwqr_TsnlbD8JtELWL5rmQniiKh0p8zPVknly1EXxa9VGnLST63JsTu8nxn3ia9o548K_-Ln0yWcC8eNWH227T3kuPl4OGEe2jiaWCTKuZHIrTBB/s320/IMG_8102.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We prepare in case we release a music album together.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrCcC5VWHjmO42Gqt-39bpPBqF7x_37AKd_vC5CI9X2WAU-xvadGiBOpeFJYR9zaFXDv5iTK3BA2iezblhzT1Y-H4V5S37kdLFBmnQmcKAw3YCRrOM_SRe7R16nuYDwH1yQUlQhUFKwnU65EMDyXmyxo0QxUYrKv9ETrZxDVR_XPHaq19o5gr6hd3XHlfc/s2975/IMG_8121.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2758" data-original-width="2975" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrCcC5VWHjmO42Gqt-39bpPBqF7x_37AKd_vC5CI9X2WAU-xvadGiBOpeFJYR9zaFXDv5iTK3BA2iezblhzT1Y-H4V5S37kdLFBmnQmcKAw3YCRrOM_SRe7R16nuYDwH1yQUlQhUFKwnU65EMDyXmyxo0QxUYrKv9ETrZxDVR_XPHaq19o5gr6hd3XHlfc/s320/IMG_8121.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evolution of Bolivian tourists.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1kQOnXEQjBMwqP2DLW6swzONFTDN2muYYlVT-zFq7ZWqUMr9FpKEN79ErWtc4kMIEGtgR_1aVe-clMMy15D2g6jKrbG4h0VzWq2j4g_FH6_sn7CP6QtXQqKQH8Q-Agbh7kIJsTx0KLwOzb4pc9iZcbfFS5dOs9bpXeMTU7fcjEs2h5E3R0Kjd9CBSpzY/s4032/IMG_5181.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU1kQOnXEQjBMwqP2DLW6swzONFTDN2muYYlVT-zFq7ZWqUMr9FpKEN79ErWtc4kMIEGtgR_1aVe-clMMy15D2g6jKrbG4h0VzWq2j4g_FH6_sn7CP6QtXQqKQH8Q-Agbh7kIJsTx0KLwOzb4pc9iZcbfFS5dOs9bpXeMTU7fcjEs2h5E3R0Kjd9CBSpzY/s320/IMG_5181.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me just absolutely stoked to be out of the country and learning new things. <br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>That night we stayed in a hotel made entirely of salt. The walls were salt. The tables and chairs were salt. The beds were salt. You could lick it - don't ask me how I know. </div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rYLcMSC1aJZhpuW5md5pH_lHEys3abOqYtBWIZ-q-x3NqssO3bL-TeI0slOQi3xaeO2pYAE5urAAg3F6HxerSbfToNjqPymxHPUyIuXSBTGr-jxqc9hkP0RkHPn-gJ8KyiXHsm6VkFpZFq-kt6z1xWBRY16X3to48dqF_Nc_0JupUcV58F2rxR3NFPNm/s320/IMG_5195.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A window looking out of our hotel room at dusk; note the salt bricks.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqefhcF9DeTDc9UN_uGOA8Y8YzrrQLkvv750oRmmggQ93-ym7BoT5DaKT6j_qnnUyZ27iZ7-MQ6orpqHBnr5NKBtYNgGaVxsUoWIuvU0JSD5fWTElYOfh7ldkV2-qryitSJXmL4Yv8bStgvQd1Z3_hG8BkwjCqwA-Nm0NVuc9a9twz7y94gbWXSrqn697t/s4032/IMG_5193.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqefhcF9DeTDc9UN_uGOA8Y8YzrrQLkvv750oRmmggQ93-ym7BoT5DaKT6j_qnnUyZ27iZ7-MQ6orpqHBnr5NKBtYNgGaVxsUoWIuvU0JSD5fWTElYOfh7ldkV2-qryitSJXmL4Yv8bStgvQd1Z3_hG8BkwjCqwA-Nm0NVuc9a9twz7y94gbWXSrqn697t/s320/IMG_5193.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having a bed made of salt is awesome. But they should be careful because someone might be really sleepy and cold and mildly hypoxic from altitude and in the dark that person might think that the block of solid salt at the head of the bed is a stack of soft pillows, and she might excitedly jump in bed and slam her head against it so hard she could concuss herself. I'm not an expert I'm just pointing out hypothetical risks.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div>This hotel had hot water, but not a lot of it. Since multiple tour groups stayed there the same night, Juliana and I selfishly rushed to shower first and still both of us got some healthy ice bath therapy. We were somewhat expecting it though. As our tour planner told us for both nights on the flats, "Hot water... maybe yes, maybe no." Electricity was guaranteed only 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours at night, so you had to plan your charging and light needs in advance. In case you haven't picked up on it yet, this is not the relax-and-read-a-book-on-the-beach type of vacation. But it's so cool!<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnm9X4-ZR-lt73ny2UDWs4KmaDggHpI-Ums7SPrlenm9ddxfUIecZSe6KK5e0rnxXreGyBVs2dNAHInVyBVdpe5VtVQ7Vs8K9ooxZJNrcqO2MEfCtdDAqIWw5T5M8lVJJZoA-zI-N5dfyKW-5f23bSf9EvefPpqpwsjzQb2NGfRBd4DAW1e6-BBQVs4J8/s4032/IMG_5833.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnm9X4-ZR-lt73ny2UDWs4KmaDggHpI-Ums7SPrlenm9ddxfUIecZSe6KK5e0rnxXreGyBVs2dNAHInVyBVdpe5VtVQ7Vs8K9ooxZJNrcqO2MEfCtdDAqIWw5T5M8lVJJZoA-zI-N5dfyKW-5f23bSf9EvefPpqpwsjzQb2NGfRBd4DAW1e6-BBQVs4J8/s320/IMG_5833.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The payoff for no electricity.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkJen-fxJrvdw63u3ucO2Ws_K8aUMTIp5RB3bJgJ_PoS-nr8FeUOz-71vmxQf8qFnILD1TWxr4xDA5MvR9rWfxDTrCpYMqctyw7wKGiV1Y5-new45_8G0ZaM7JK4mcoVGMpTE-owOzso2LQq1UT-szwldOnNq8S1XwCG0TA3JFWM1ZDwFmPZbFdWlzZEo/s4032/IMG_5321.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkJen-fxJrvdw63u3ucO2Ws_K8aUMTIp5RB3bJgJ_PoS-nr8FeUOz-71vmxQf8qFnILD1TWxr4xDA5MvR9rWfxDTrCpYMqctyw7wKGiV1Y5-new45_8G0ZaM7JK4mcoVGMpTE-owOzso2LQq1UT-szwldOnNq8S1XwCG0TA3JFWM1ZDwFmPZbFdWlzZEo/s320/IMG_5321.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quinoa still on the plant looks like this.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtw24LPKuG8uwKGVoAT0ro1DjOQNNi4vzRP8VgveTLZJVjQ16AcWFyrFh4ykkN0l052vKg1qeDLA5K4LuvepeOn3ZHrRguL4_TprYL25P_6lbKnPgJefofic3nAnR55zGNXPYhOY3kb7pW2FDt_KLaqOLIR9amdzI7T0BTFPx8X-ZpfYF8xoaYyuPa8UND/s4032/IMG_5323.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtw24LPKuG8uwKGVoAT0ro1DjOQNNi4vzRP8VgveTLZJVjQ16AcWFyrFh4ykkN0l052vKg1qeDLA5K4LuvepeOn3ZHrRguL4_TprYL25P_6lbKnPgJefofic3nAnR55zGNXPYhOY3kb7pW2FDt_KLaqOLIR9amdzI7T0BTFPx8X-ZpfYF8xoaYyuPa8UND/s320/IMG_5323.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was LOTS of quinoa. As the vegetarian in the group I had meals consisting of quinoa fritters, quinoa bread, and quinoa on the side. There was also quinoa dessert. No complaints!<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yn5c3hTm_7I" width="320" youtube-src-id="yn5c3hTm_7I"></iframe><br />Wild llamas above a semi-frozen stream. That is what we are.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3SzLwGRLdc8" width="320" youtube-src-id="3SzLwGRLdc8"></iframe><br />The Bolivian deserts are home to the rare Vizcacha; a long tailed rabbit-type creature with hooded eyes that came in handy when the sand blew relentlessly.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXKHFOafit7RMBaJ4lSXrlzin7piL1iPUFcvmlprqghMDuT1A9mJ42MGajlpNVBmuxX2hzzWFi-VBWACnwi5nrfrRzCB9fAOSPltt9plZo7I-4eIXFCiKxieBtxGaaSu0LmlKuUkMc0NPrd9vrlWlrBZ0LWoikoI-BhS3_yDwcodFCfD4ceNqqFggt4Tu/s4032/IMG_5328.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXKHFOafit7RMBaJ4lSXrlzin7piL1iPUFcvmlprqghMDuT1A9mJ42MGajlpNVBmuxX2hzzWFi-VBWACnwi5nrfrRzCB9fAOSPltt9plZo7I-4eIXFCiKxieBtxGaaSu0LmlKuUkMc0NPrd9vrlWlrBZ0LWoikoI-BhS3_yDwcodFCfD4ceNqqFggt4Tu/s320/IMG_5328.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An active volcano, called Ollagüe, being very subtle about it.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImvIocHzQKK3GQOGuxMhx1jaoMTbQ-E9xnbeNB0ueJjfU27uwPdXoqjbVHBB7c_r7m30dIrUS6a9XM3bvicN3XuYBaaXlInBS9Lef7pzpy-tfMCJS3sW61wE72_E5KPHrkI2q-jk4k-nybfYCEDR2gPIDSni05JUG14rACQXP2Ta2KFRn7fkxsNb13sXx/s4032/IMG_5336.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImvIocHzQKK3GQOGuxMhx1jaoMTbQ-E9xnbeNB0ueJjfU27uwPdXoqjbVHBB7c_r7m30dIrUS6a9XM3bvicN3XuYBaaXlInBS9Lef7pzpy-tfMCJS3sW61wE72_E5KPHrkI2q-jk4k-nybfYCEDR2gPIDSni05JUG14rACQXP2Ta2KFRn7fkxsNb13sXx/s320/IMG_5336.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still climbing... </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-hKqsruvDSUBcpQlgmDAOta2V3pTVZJ8LuExcokd27boWnZqbQIqoBBLq-Thwr3cesWrpzzjAPRAUzwmAtPiwFf34HsotkMcvxhOiyC24ekJKLrwtWqRs_z2yOY7wdCuKHamt2YiIQMIZVTEUsutiCZS0pAXFXkrX-gFN9UbIYtJ5hSdw1S2y9QFQtqK/s4032/IMG_5379.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-hKqsruvDSUBcpQlgmDAOta2V3pTVZJ8LuExcokd27boWnZqbQIqoBBLq-Thwr3cesWrpzzjAPRAUzwmAtPiwFf34HsotkMcvxhOiyC24ekJKLrwtWqRs_z2yOY7wdCuKHamt2YiIQMIZVTEUsutiCZS0pAXFXkrX-gFN9UbIYtJ5hSdw1S2y9QFQtqK/s320/IMG_5379.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flamingo time!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZ0QREKVk-ZFqk0IShANzRGQZIyQQyxE4JMfTXXX_X1-Jli6gBK2kOGXGDqtVYVzxSqO9ivFbZudT945nA9K5X86Q6YgyJXQ2S5LkYRr2kddelzHFw8gT1aW2s0K2ryi6FBi5MD14iow7S5omqTy0daaNMnSokC7laLQ4h5OL1CWXfUovC4CpVV528wpK/s4032/IMG_5347.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZ0QREKVk-ZFqk0IShANzRGQZIyQQyxE4JMfTXXX_X1-Jli6gBK2kOGXGDqtVYVzxSqO9ivFbZudT945nA9K5X86Q6YgyJXQ2S5LkYRr2kddelzHFw8gT1aW2s0K2ryi6FBi5MD14iow7S5omqTy0daaNMnSokC7laLQ4h5OL1CWXfUovC4CpVV528wpK/s320/IMG_5347.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFuCpBb2QUCduxdLpDBX2ifo_wlaXet8aavmtHsiceYQaqbY-ndfAaU5DWSiZPvd-OU5-Hewrq0Rfs2zbws5gbxkxO6X8LDfXz6Nmwzq0Jsy2AXHZfW50ge94O_iwYRCgyJiMrkqOKTN3USNT1xGkiTqpQchKazTSYC70HUr2uKVgvsHIX4M7jBgsLHbO/s4032/IMG_1984.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFuCpBb2QUCduxdLpDBX2ifo_wlaXet8aavmtHsiceYQaqbY-ndfAaU5DWSiZPvd-OU5-Hewrq0Rfs2zbws5gbxkxO6X8LDfXz6Nmwzq0Jsy2AXHZfW50ge94O_iwYRCgyJiMrkqOKTN3USNT1xGkiTqpQchKazTSYC70HUr2uKVgvsHIX4M7jBgsLHbO/s320/IMG_1984.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stopping by the Polques <a href="https://www.salardeuyuni.com/polques-hot-springs/" target="_blank">hot springs</a>. From long underwear to bikini is a transition I seldom make, but what am I gonna do, NOT do it?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-jXzTjzn0zjf1Z5T7t9Wjgjf6V2stqa23yCOPOyqivwf08BssgLT_WIMiEB6LwIBNpLMwdCWRXOc0gIf0uJRnP1R3GxEWu6F46xtakUtKBQ21ViqyeF_JAQdxGv8hCSnDDYwXzyZfblrkz8HOJoqRZpQqTv8oCb8WN-gCGMsjt15jsD4RhQBc9V8RDGm/s4032/IMG_5415.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-jXzTjzn0zjf1Z5T7t9Wjgjf6V2stqa23yCOPOyqivwf08BssgLT_WIMiEB6LwIBNpLMwdCWRXOc0gIf0uJRnP1R3GxEWu6F46xtakUtKBQ21ViqyeF_JAQdxGv8hCSnDDYwXzyZfblrkz8HOJoqRZpQqTv8oCb8WN-gCGMsjt15jsD4RhQBc9V8RDGm/s320/IMG_5415.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We also visited some geysers which, I was rather dismayed to note, were located at the highest point in the entire itinerary: about 16,000 feet. I. Was. Dying.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4ebToTUf6HoPD_cdGaRIOdxf-AIbqkr9LM-7p50bF6tFrGPBYqMUyK4wMifAqVEw0ci_MiWrAWPn_9Stib7Cx6bkYkkmjWzlukZ__kPI66IqvZq1OoSb4Q2C-dX8WlnsJGVhgNsi8aTQXKnkEMtO7SwR7VL--3ywz5kGFvpyawWb7HCGww4TTRa6DQBU/s4032/IMG_5529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4ebToTUf6HoPD_cdGaRIOdxf-AIbqkr9LM-7p50bF6tFrGPBYqMUyK4wMifAqVEw0ci_MiWrAWPn_9Stib7Cx6bkYkkmjWzlukZ__kPI66IqvZq1OoSb4Q2C-dX8WlnsJGVhgNsi8aTQXKnkEMtO7SwR7VL--3ywz5kGFvpyawWb7HCGww4TTRa6DQBU/s320/IMG_5529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving back to Uyuni took about 7 hours. Then we reversed the overnight bus process and headed back to La Paz for me to continue on to Paraguay and for Juliana to come home to Boston. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP4C0TAi7U0jDvOp4xJQ6pOi1ganAFQhkApnaMoamTlew8KQBYe9KfchvjM9Zbr7-8LqW_ORL7FypGhvzFIq8Oq63tj_M5JcKHblMibcBGf7eI082XDvDl7lsrDUNvRYAIXfzItVicBSOsQaEr0Jd0gF7SBv2venRd-xDZdKAzlatIspL2yIJByATN0T4/s4032/IMG_5531.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP4C0TAi7U0jDvOp4xJQ6pOi1ganAFQhkApnaMoamTlew8KQBYe9KfchvjM9Zbr7-8LqW_ORL7FypGhvzFIq8Oq63tj_M5JcKHblMibcBGf7eI082XDvDl7lsrDUNvRYAIXfzItVicBSOsQaEr0Jd0gF7SBv2venRd-xDZdKAzlatIspL2yIJByATN0T4/s320/IMG_5531.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summary of the route we took.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalaIB60ylD5rFOoBDCc1kty4dx7XERfBrB_PAxjeHsX1uWLvRO5oCxrx-ZFqX_v9p9toBEMBIygC3eYsKHJeLDH334h4e-s0B597qh5TxqAcakuMhiWSLmC4lmMnxup5fxz9k1593i2T3PFH3pkZaIvj1w6rhFCYw-e50JcZWXTqX_EIIqiZDXSqo5er9/s4032/IMG_5533.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalaIB60ylD5rFOoBDCc1kty4dx7XERfBrB_PAxjeHsX1uWLvRO5oCxrx-ZFqX_v9p9toBEMBIygC3eYsKHJeLDH334h4e-s0B597qh5TxqAcakuMhiWSLmC4lmMnxup5fxz9k1593i2T3PFH3pkZaIvj1w6rhFCYw-e50JcZWXTqX_EIIqiZDXSqo5er9/s320/IMG_5533.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />While waiting for the bus back to La Paz, we stopped into this restaurant, which was AWESOME. Not to be confused with the restaurant near Ollagüe, which served llama meat: <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7x1yx8OII0HsekqSFtLX_LNrxMYFNBVhsLnKogHG4J68QdowtGbNGtOiPbt-0NvwVJZeE2Z02xfvrPp5iavC_6LbjAwdmy6v4h08TlthaGYJFoIaBHtCLUesummeOtI7xCtSg92LJyvdXkXRbpzpDkVa2rDCyVzqmmrg34JsaLdfFEVbnjNmUfTk69u3Z/s4032/IMG_5334.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7x1yx8OII0HsekqSFtLX_LNrxMYFNBVhsLnKogHG4J68QdowtGbNGtOiPbt-0NvwVJZeE2Z02xfvrPp5iavC_6LbjAwdmy6v4h08TlthaGYJFoIaBHtCLUesummeOtI7xCtSg92LJyvdXkXRbpzpDkVa2rDCyVzqmmrg34JsaLdfFEVbnjNmUfTk69u3Z/s320/IMG_5334.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">😳</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbK6dBoWw2Nwjs-TgrrAN2arydF628J8srdXkfvLqJytk29zXsCaxE24GCSuh9b6qg-ilkA_fCqv8hAeYfeHEiAq56bTHfLAi-FrE7vtDmex3VnoNs4k0hLdJxKi1zKDSnWtpkb4dTCzYu20WGdlmXKoJhEdJ-cRwELTd1Feunje5F4nMh01SX_6pnM9XV/s2532/IMG_5535.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2532" data-original-width="1170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbK6dBoWw2Nwjs-TgrrAN2arydF628J8srdXkfvLqJytk29zXsCaxE24GCSuh9b6qg-ilkA_fCqv8hAeYfeHEiAq56bTHfLAi-FrE7vtDmex3VnoNs4k0hLdJxKi1zKDSnWtpkb4dTCzYu20WGdlmXKoJhEdJ-cRwELTd1Feunje5F4nMh01SX_6pnM9XV/s320/IMG_5535.PNG" width="148" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Made it back to La Paz! There is no mass ground transit, but you don't have to ensare yourself in the notoriously bad traffic if you have $3 or so: just take the cable cars. Locals take them for commutes, it's not purely a tourist thing, but we did love it. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPdwjh4PYyPhqQXybwqHRE2WDgH8UKdfoJeqCC9jktgtmnkAh3HwwCsMuoqd90dkgRKRed8eWXBiBLLvCyLc2Q3DPTTXxa5sggmA0VwRvPSgrEusUKlCEM4o_XZkIO5VkoV1icNfPCZR04ILG2yvRLDBs-rcQi9NzUiC77l-TbO5vSkJgBXUcBHQYNxBo/s4032/IMG_5539.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPdwjh4PYyPhqQXybwqHRE2WDgH8UKdfoJeqCC9jktgtmnkAh3HwwCsMuoqd90dkgRKRed8eWXBiBLLvCyLc2Q3DPTTXxa5sggmA0VwRvPSgrEusUKlCEM4o_XZkIO5VkoV1icNfPCZR04ILG2yvRLDBs-rcQi9NzUiC77l-TbO5vSkJgBXUcBHQYNxBo/s320/IMG_5539.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Paz from a cable car station.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3Ju5kyBaEAA" width="320" youtube-src-id="3Ju5kyBaEAA"></iframe></div>The cable cars in La Paz feel pretty safe. The backyards on this mountaintop... not so much. <div><br /></div><div>Also, randomly, my phone worked with no day pass or new sim card. So don't bother getting advanced plans if you have AT&T!</div><div><br /></div><div>From Bolivia, I went to Paraguay, then eventually Guyana, Suriname, French Guyana, and Brazil. It was an awesome August :) Hopefully I can write about those destinations soon!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-71101993197142933292022-12-13T12:12:00.011-08:002023-04-19T05:57:32.136-07:00Greenland<p>Greenland. Is. Awesome.</p><p>We had extraordinary luck on this trip. Everything that can go right with travel, did: flights landing on time (despite major issues), great tour group of strangers-turned-travel-buddies, nature happenings that tour guides warn are rare and not to be disappointed if you don't see them... we got it all!</p><p>We started by choosing a tour company. We picked the "<a href="https://greenlandtours.com/en/tour/south-greenland-adventure/" target="_blank">South Greenland Adventure</a>" from a rather neutral sounding "Greenland tours" company, so were surprised when we arrived and all of the employees were wearing <a href="https://tasermiutgreenland.com/" target="_blank">Tasermiut</a> company gear: it was a classic shell in a shell of a tour operator. Despite that business's local sounding name (it's the Greenlandic name for a specific fjord), it's a Spanish company, and we were kind of bummed that only a small fraction of their employees were native Greendlanders. Still, there's not an abundance of choice when it comes to tour operators, especially ones that run their own housing. There are two "hotels" (hostels) in Narsarsuaq, and only one once you cross the fjord into Qassiarsuk - that's Leif Eriksson hotel, run by Tasermiut, which is where we stayed.</p><p>Flying in to Narsarsuaq airport can only be accomplished via Copenhagen or Reykjavik. Greenland is part of the kingdom of Denmark, so that explains the Copenhagen connection, and I'm guessing Reykjavik is prioritized due to its proximity and popular airport. Mike and I had spent an awesome few days in Reykjavik, so of course we used that as our origin point. Flights run every 3 days or so, so in order to fully enjoy our brief 8 days of activities, we were counting on that flight not being canceled. After a brief delay we boarded in Reykjavik and flew for a few hours toward Narsarsuaq. We were about to land when the chilling announcement was made over the loudspeaker: heavy fog made landing dangerous and we would need to circle the airport for a while - then the captain would decide whether or not we needed to "head back to Reykjavik" (!!!!!!). Tip to airport designers: landing would probably be less dangerous if the airport were to be located somewhere other than <i>between two mountains in a bay covered in icebergs</i>. From a post on the top 12 most dangerous airports: "Even on calm days, planes flying in suffer extreme turbulence and wind shear. What makes this so serious is that arriving aircraft must fly through a fjord where pilots must make precise 90 degree turns to line up with the runway while in the “valley,” and at some point during this turn, wind will hit the craft from one side and speed it down to the airport. Plus, downdrafts and icebergs surround the place. Flyers new to the local topographical and meteorological conditions should not fly here through the fjords."</p><p>After a charged 30 minutes, the plane landed with no other announcements. We were in!</p><p>Our guide Sergio was waiting at the airport. He's Italian, but when he introduced himself his ethnically ambiguous looks made me think he was Greenlandic, which led to me mishearing his introduction and embarrassingly trying to pronounce his name as if it were a novel set of syllables in the local accent. Kill me.</p><p>A few other people joined us with Sergio - a lovely slightly older French couple (Fred and Corinne), a sibling duo from Germany in their 20/30s (Jenny and Max), and a soon-to-be-legendary solo traveler from Spain, Rubén, who despite being in his late 40s absolutely <i>smoked</i> everyone in hiking, kayaking, and any other physical activity. Turns out he is a firefighter in Bilbao and, if you ever get to choose which city to be in a fire in, I say Bilbao all the way, because their entry requirements and training programs are clearly topnotch. Fred spoke great English, Corinne had requested a French guide, and Rubén had requested a Spanish guide. Sergio spoke English and presumably Italian, but that was it. Apparently, a mandatory 4 month stint in Greenland is not the #1 most desired assignment for multilingual tour guides. Corinne and Rubén had to rely on some pretty subpar translating from one of the participants *cough*. Everyone thinks they speak Spanish until it's time to translate "musk ox" or "King Christian IV of Denmark sent a series of expeditions to Arctic waterways to locate the lost eastern Norse settlement and assert Danish sovereignty over Greenland."</p><p>So maybe Corinne and Rubén weren't that lucky, but boy did our group do better than the other one. Still at the airport, Sergio let us know that the flight from Copenhagen had also done the "circle and wait above the airport" routine just after we had, but their captain had circled for so long that they needed to refuel in Kangerlussuaq, over 400 miles of icy tundra away. That was bad enough, but then the weather deteriorated even further, and they had to give up and go back to Copenhagen (!). Which meant that their next opportunity to join our group would be four days later. Four days!!! Out of an 8 day tour! </p><p>Our mini/incomplete group set off to guiltily enjoy our program, always wondering at the back of our minds what the other group members would be like and how they would affect our (very pleasant, copacetic) dynamic. Sergio changed the schedule around so the biggest "must-do" items were at the end to give the stragglers a chance to enjoy them. So our first adventures looked like this:</p><p>Get set up at the hostel in Qassiarsuk settlement: 30 minute RIB ride from airport in Narsarsuaq. RIB stands for Rigid Inflatable Boat, and ours could "seat" about 12 people plus the captain. Of course there are no seats; you perch on the side and hold on to a rope that is threaded through some strategic handles. At low speeds the ride is ok; at high speeds it is very cold and uncomfortable. They make a logical choice for transport since they are shallow (there are icebergs everywhere), can navigate through tiny channels (again, icebergs), and are easy to fuel and store. They do not, however, prioritize passenger comfort. To combat the extra wind and cold on the water, every RIB journey involved the guides passing out massive parkas to everyone. They did a great job in keeping out the chill, but they were quite rank and probably had never been washed despite hundreds of people wearing them. ANYway! We made it safely to the hostel.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbr5nXerCZAJsXU3O10Deqtta9zx1MCwQ-6Int6VbBe9z4398CvZKdlPOuTzpT78x13fyyPa_7tfhYDEnqVbSJZaiFHiWjyttUA3GW5Kof3rdG2Gqk-djP7nqwMvCXYTg0vFicjcxVssw0CN8RfQe0zRPX58gY7JpBLpWm9QXoKVE6INNdaieNXyagw/s4032/IMG_0583.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhbr5nXerCZAJsXU3O10Deqtta9zx1MCwQ-6Int6VbBe9z4398CvZKdlPOuTzpT78x13fyyPa_7tfhYDEnqVbSJZaiFHiWjyttUA3GW5Kof3rdG2Gqk-djP7nqwMvCXYTg0vFicjcxVssw0CN8RfQe0zRPX58gY7JpBLpWm9QXoKVE6INNdaieNXyagw/s320/IMG_0583.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">RIB journey. Our luggage is in the middle of the boat with a tarp over it.</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsNUlSM1MhN8sqUqjz0BTZ9UT0tRouSOVqaSKNmtj9IgnMq4iS0x4DILFoCqPzvleCzPCizP_3pyPcHlamY7ZGqHmJciPO5jQxT3Bs8yZcShUC3MJmIc5oBzovqQUrY9C7oVG1RU4Y55SmvoECgCy4C1vBVULNAXXLAQZEqhfEMCqZceaPKHIRHiSlpw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsNUlSM1MhN8sqUqjz0BTZ9UT0tRouSOVqaSKNmtj9IgnMq4iS0x4DILFoCqPzvleCzPCizP_3pyPcHlamY7ZGqHmJciPO5jQxT3Bs8yZcShUC3MJmIc5oBzovqQUrY9C7oVG1RU4Y55SmvoECgCy4C1vBVULNAXXLAQZEqhfEMCqZceaPKHIRHiSlpw=w320-h240" title="Arriving at the dock of the hostel" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The dock to the hostel on a nice day.</div><p><br /></p>This part was very rough around the edges. All the accommodation for the trip was shared, and you didn't get a say about rooms or roommates. Mike and I were lucky to get a "private" room, which had a tiny bunk bed for each of us and no room beyond that. Like, you couldn't get in bed if the door was open. Other tourmates were stuck in a group room with six bunks - some occupied by people they had met before, others not. Snoring was a very public issue. The bathroom (yes, singular - one for each gender) and showers were shared not only with our group but also three other groups that were simultaneously booked, bringing the total number of bodies in the little house to an average of around 30. The food was piled on a communal table and everyone swarmed it at mealtimes, then took their spoils to their folding metal chair that constantly had to be moved in order to let people get by because of the lack of space in the tiny dining room. It was chaotic and not for those accustomed to regular hotel travel. As long as you are in "rough it" mode, you will do great! Technically, all human needs are met :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Full day hike to Flower Valley and Kiattut Glacier. Very arduous hike (let's be honest, most hikes are arduous for me, but I guess that's what I get for hanging out with elite mountain climbers like <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2022/01/hiking-mount-kilimanjaro.html" target="_blank">Robert</a> and Rubén). Steep ascents with lots of mud and slick rock. Yes yes it was also beautiful with epic glacier views, but I have to tell you what the brochure doesn't, right?<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uB_k6pRKBRk" width="320" youtube-src-id="uB_k6pRKBRk"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Setting off on the hike. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Northern lights. Easily the most magical thing I have ever seen. Humor a small tangent here: our hostel was named for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leif_Erikson" target="_blank">Leif Erikson</a>, who has a fascinating history in the region. The story of Leif in Scandinavia and Greenland is dramatic, violent, and entertaining, so it's no wonder that several podcasts have featured it. There are Leif statues in many places around Iceland and Greenland, and our hostel featured one, located about a 15 minute hike up a rocky hill. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ok, back to the lights. Over dinner one night it became apparent that Fred was an amateur astronomer and knew quite a lot about the lights. He had an app that indicated the best time to view them, how strong they would be based on solar storms in the last 11 years (no, seriously. <a href="https://www.aurorahunter.com/northern-lights-forecast.html" target="_blank">This blog</a> does a good job of putting things in laypeople terms), and which side of the horizon we should look at. He suggested that despite the almost complete lack of civilization, we should still hike up the nearby rock to avoid light pollution from the hostel. He told us exactly what time to get ready and meet him at the door, and I just want to say thank you to people like that all around the world, because we all need people like you! Had it not been for Fred I would have been bungling around the hostel too early and probably given up after 30 minutes. With Fred we saw... well, again, the most magical thing ever. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjawIKqudROF6vxdqoVNVDtv8Mt63w8HxwJgiwMyslMWjgpFpyxcRtI-WKTS1uPjm-1JtCp14k58Rlnhr0RJw9UIoLV_qXXn6Ur8B2paKFMtn27RXo-mleDP3-zQCldhoHVh49FRLfmh0SKsE3gWChQggOK5JGHKYhK1qNKcQZ1Ytp6zpIH0rmpd5xkLQ/s1112/Screen%20Shot%202022-12-13%20at%2011.18.06%20AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1112" data-original-width="904" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjawIKqudROF6vxdqoVNVDtv8Mt63w8HxwJgiwMyslMWjgpFpyxcRtI-WKTS1uPjm-1JtCp14k58Rlnhr0RJw9UIoLV_qXXn6Ur8B2paKFMtn27RXo-mleDP3-zQCldhoHVh49FRLfmh0SKsE3gWChQggOK5JGHKYhK1qNKcQZ1Ytp6zpIH0rmpd5xkLQ/s320/Screen%20Shot%202022-12-13%20at%2011.18.06%20AM.png" width="260" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is why I told you about Leif! That's his statue on the hill near the hostel.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsEzftwxYopkUYHuuysraSxPt_Tcx-mH18g_S8jgXMMp6IiW8_eiMpjgf1SZQ3rV1YmD3SYJhx175OXX58VPMSfcWVp4_dv7F7hWGHYjvlPoCFNhGo-WaeejLT7uLb6jIdNSmI6Ag65TvqJdMOnDyTMMlR8c_yP1EzbLD_RCTXIOpCUsyH4KXjG5W3Q/s918/Screen%20Shot%202022-12-13%20at%2011.21.24%20AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="744" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsEzftwxYopkUYHuuysraSxPt_Tcx-mH18g_S8jgXMMp6IiW8_eiMpjgf1SZQ3rV1YmD3SYJhx175OXX58VPMSfcWVp4_dv7F7hWGHYjvlPoCFNhGo-WaeejLT7uLb6jIdNSmI6Ag65TvqJdMOnDyTMMlR8c_yP1EzbLD_RCTXIOpCUsyH4KXjG5W3Q/s320/Screen%20Shot%202022-12-13%20at%2011.21.24%20AM.png" width="259" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lights bright enough for phone cameras to capture, and me with my headlamp and pussy hat making for interesting silhouettes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As incredible as these lights were, we would get an even more amazing show when we left the hostel far behind and ventured into the desolate wilderness of Qaleraliq, the glacier camp. The camp was approximately six hours away by RIB. Six hours is a long time to be perched on the side of a raft (no real seats), unsheltered from the wind in the middle of literal icebergs. So preparations were made. One: the stinky parkas. Two: schedule a stop. We stopped halfway to the camp at Narsaq, a little town with very little to do, time-passing wise. We had lunch at a hostel (but didn't stay there overnight), and walked around a little bit. I befriended a mangy cat while taking in the adorable scenery. The houses are brightly colored and very small; heating needs to be as efficient as possible!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1GDUN-gADlokHxGOVAyIvB3p3z3wNIjT1vWFdueptsiRDB5NGZ61U2NeQpyaHdBWENOdzllBVJEFjg0Cxetp7jnGrrQ-j3oO0huhAfkebANHQEu_rqHuVx18YgePib-E14ADH77xpbRku-zgyUsQQYnZ3xr0Z1NJjHroeYsfjucXYL79GgFs-ZmXnA/s3088/IMG_0435.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1GDUN-gADlokHxGOVAyIvB3p3z3wNIjT1vWFdueptsiRDB5NGZ61U2NeQpyaHdBWENOdzllBVJEFjg0Cxetp7jnGrrQ-j3oO0huhAfkebANHQEu_rqHuVx18YgePib-E14ADH77xpbRku-zgyUsQQYnZ3xr0Z1NJjHroeYsfjucXYL79GgFs-ZmXnA/s320/IMG_0435.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJ4DYEdYtFtzD5jQuBeUHIZAnmky180G3bZgMYKKrrHPrEELb4zICStbzDFv5suV8-u8ytfFndKvN7FZ7nrNSji5aNxTFXpD-n7UPYaRem3op-sZBh_ATk7rrZYf070fEMaKM9ujzVOBczowGwBafRBhgOGAre7op2BPt05M8TE25lyCkSrpyyBM7GA/s4032/IMG_0447.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJ4DYEdYtFtzD5jQuBeUHIZAnmky180G3bZgMYKKrrHPrEELb4zICStbzDFv5suV8-u8ytfFndKvN7FZ7nrNSji5aNxTFXpD-n7UPYaRem3op-sZBh_ATk7rrZYf070fEMaKM9ujzVOBczowGwBafRBhgOGAre7op2BPt05M8TE25lyCkSrpyyBM7GA/s320/IMG_0447.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You can find much better pictures of Narsaq houses on Google; this is my attempt. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There was a single, tiny grocery store there. Normally I don't report on grocery stores but this one was special. That's because in the middle aisle, between games and school supplies, were multiple PS5 systems. Even as a non-gamer I knew that <a href="https://www.dmarge.com/ps5-stock-shortages" target="_blank">lack of availability</a> of this console was resulting in a <a href="https://news.sky.com/story/ps5-and-xbox-stock-inside-a-full-time-scalping-operation-keeping-consoles-off-shelves-this-christmas-12488453" target="_blank">black market</a> and astronomical prices in almost every part of the world. People hoping to buy one had been waiting for months and years after signing up on "<a href="https://www.tomsguide.com/news/sony-opens-registration-for-invite-only-ps5-restocks-over-the-holiday-season" target="_blank">invitation lists.</a>" But here they were in the grocery store, ready to be picked up with your weekly food prep items! The Germans and Mike and I fleetingly considered buying them and reselling upon our return to Europe and the US, respectively, but alas, they would fit neither in the hostel nor the RIB boats. Another business venture cut short before it could thrive.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sizc7MgUeaeNKNpjpB0_gTCIbI0kT_t-EpVlpdlatG82ZVxrO8hLPFUzD6xnpWvxb4eUx7QWA4hAn55tFiNgEaRhREiaRZY-rpK3YP3_RtLMSULahGeRAvaoYY4ZWBuyopR0CKDh7IIyIsaErHV-4Vc2zjYCT3Z6Q-ttbooua5lcm8RwtV2xZiAK1w/s4032/IMG_0452.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sizc7MgUeaeNKNpjpB0_gTCIbI0kT_t-EpVlpdlatG82ZVxrO8hLPFUzD6xnpWvxb4eUx7QWA4hAn55tFiNgEaRhREiaRZY-rpK3YP3_RtLMSULahGeRAvaoYY4ZWBuyopR0CKDh7IIyIsaErHV-4Vc2zjYCT3Z6Q-ttbooua5lcm8RwtV2xZiAK1w/s320/IMG_0452.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We hopped back in the RIB and survived the last leg of the journey to Qaleraliq. This camp was quite bare bones: no running water (well, except for the waterfall nearby), camp toilets, no electricity for 4 days. It looked like a Martian colony: a small sandy plateau with about 12 small geodesic domes, each dome with 2 sets of cot bunk beds and a small table. 2 large domes housed the separate mess tents: again, another tour group was there but kept mostly to themselves. One mess tent was for them and the other for us. The kitchen tents had propane stoves for warmth (and separate ones for food). I tried in vain to sleep in the kitchen tent next to the stove, but was relegated back to our cots and lack of propane. I had 2 sub-zero sleeping bags and all of my clothes on and was still freezing the whole time. That's just my life though. And anyone's life who decides to camp next to glaciers several miles wide.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We would come back from cold expeditions to the warm kitchen, and everyone wanted to dry their wet socks and gloves. But there was no room; the tiny stove allowed for one person to be in front of it, maaaaybe two. Your favorite blogger found a solution though!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxAthI6_ZvWXvp4bVI-wFFsN5Y4wH5FnYT616xFHnH6MjfEverUOwts-TKnNCAY7ZEvxuxwPE3rez2EGDrd6QWTzHsUhGWAoQraon3TFWbYIIaMJgfxypuz1ImltG5cZXO4bAkJcElq9XMvJb3KtM-3G2Q_MHq319vkuxkBGhZehbZkfIo6CrtQlSvA/s4032/IMG_0715.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxAthI6_ZvWXvp4bVI-wFFsN5Y4wH5FnYT616xFHnH6MjfEverUOwts-TKnNCAY7ZEvxuxwPE3rez2EGDrd6QWTzHsUhGWAoQraon3TFWbYIIaMJgfxypuz1ImltG5cZXO4bAkJcElq9XMvJb3KtM-3G2Q_MHq319vkuxkBGhZehbZkfIo6CrtQlSvA/s320/IMG_0715.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gloves perched on beer bottles to dry out. Yes I am wearing socks covered in a plastic bag and the (male) German's sandals because I had not yet discovered <a href="https://www.rei.com/product/194789/teva-reember-slip-ons-womens" target="_blank">these</a>. The result looked like a modern art installation.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We, the campers, had to lug multi-gallon water jugs from the waterfall (about 5 minutes away and down some slippery rocks) to be heated in the kitchen. No one relished this task except for Mike. Mike was absolutely thriving in this rugged, cold moonscape. I looked on in admiration and confusion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By this point we were expecting the other half of the group to arrive at any moment, but they were still MIA.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Maybe it was the distance from civilization, or maybe a solar flare 11 years ago was stronger than it had been a few days back, but when Fred led us out to see the lights in this new setting, it was somehow <b>even better</b>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPNJwaLHsapiSOjR7f4v_EoDlaFfTdBmdWCiM5z9hDV4axWHd3JgbshdD5wbLJ5erL4VUhh9athMVETk2JUMQtsawXBiWWLreGUBPL1af8bNwO2nEMQKEa_e8KUf3e5yQ2Pm_nrw635fcNaoHVI7RlAAWkhs8jfdWCEn66-sSFN5CXYHEiQT3vXZfsg/s4032/IMG_0520.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPNJwaLHsapiSOjR7f4v_EoDlaFfTdBmdWCiM5z9hDV4axWHd3JgbshdD5wbLJ5erL4VUhh9athMVETk2JUMQtsawXBiWWLreGUBPL1af8bNwO2nEMQKEa_e8KUf3e5yQ2Pm_nrw635fcNaoHVI7RlAAWkhs8jfdWCEn66-sSFN5CXYHEiQT3vXZfsg/s320/IMG_0520.heic" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/f6VC8kRrvKg" width="320" youtube-src-id="f6VC8kRrvKg"></iframe></div>The lights begin with a faint wisp that could be a cloud, but gradually becomes brighter and more colorful. This was around 11pm.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCth-ZrLBiu6l3DUUgMYTtxtE9b_mtGV7af3Rw122nc7IYXArIqR9KoafhIViZuHniHgVwXz-XOi3mc2gHP6_4UF5d8DLBGsELbx2ZfxZt49OmGc3kz90FqIvh7lQAl1k6E1_8vs6nemJ1Kw97Rt7SF2tCjmDeG1zyLkjjNAu0FAvLrKBAShij9iWDjA/s4032/IMG_0527.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCth-ZrLBiu6l3DUUgMYTtxtE9b_mtGV7af3Rw122nc7IYXArIqR9KoafhIViZuHniHgVwXz-XOi3mc2gHP6_4UF5d8DLBGsELbx2ZfxZt49OmGc3kz90FqIvh7lQAl1k6E1_8vs6nemJ1Kw97Rt7SF2tCjmDeG1zyLkjjNAu0FAvLrKBAShij9iWDjA/s320/IMG_0527.heic" width="320" /></a></div>Within about 30-60 minutes, the show really starts! Here is our camp under the lights, around midnight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PLND1dm92tc" width="320" youtube-src-id="PLND1dm92tc"></iframe></div>Absolute insanity.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">About a 10 minute walk from our camp was "the beach" - a sandy expanse next to the bay that separate us from the enormous glacier. Dotted with icebergs, the water was so comically cold and uninviting that one day in the kitchen, the Germans and Mike and I joked about going for a little swim. Laughing along, our guide Sergio quipped, "You can! It has been done before! Haha!" At this point the laughter in Mike's eyes took on an eerie sheen that I did not appreciate. "I brought my swimsuit!" he joked, sort of. "So did we!" the Germans bantered, their smiles leveling out. The atmosphere in the tent changed. "Guys, no. Haha," I said. "No WAY," I added by way of clarification.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9VfUdFtdm1bA_syJBw-RJ0JP_zfmYXeiMqgTN_bq8dCbNnoG33SUqAWGEUiFxdYFq-hpEb1uZkaKLwMdWAYfGQZ0OdBdb1i9ieIdaYKyUfyrdm9E2HYe5P9J9gFK0I0Of7Iw0ZUSDePot5uAZA87fc3Fptf9scNBUA-sUsLD5vpdmrjzC5KR2iKnbTA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9VfUdFtdm1bA_syJBw-RJ0JP_zfmYXeiMqgTN_bq8dCbNnoG33SUqAWGEUiFxdYFq-hpEb1uZkaKLwMdWAYfGQZ0OdBdb1i9ieIdaYKyUfyrdm9E2HYe5P9J9gFK0I0Of7Iw0ZUSDePot5uAZA87fc3Fptf9scNBUA-sUsLD5vpdmrjzC5KR2iKnbTA" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Damn it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/89Q5-y0Z3Ns" width="320" youtube-src-id="89Q5-y0Z3Ns"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Make sure your sound is off. My subconscious coping mechanism was blood curdling screams.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That evening, an unscheduled RIB came motoring up to the camp - our other group mates had arrived! Alas, the delicate group dynamic had already been established, and 2 of the 3 new members quickly annoyed us beyond repair. I won't dwell on it here but feel free to ask me about these stories directly. Ok I'll give you one little tidbit: male speedo influencer with nipple rings and older American lady who constantly complained and gave almost everyone Covid by coughing without covering her mouth yet denied being sick. Another guide had been seeing them through their travel tribulations, a young Spanish girl Paola, who looked to be about 19. She admitted that this was her first guiding job.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next day, we put on helmets and glacier spikes and set off for a "glacier walk." Walking on glaciers is very interesting but incredibly uncomfortable. It also did not inspire confidence because Sergio was overwhelmed with the larger group and began relying on Paola in increasingly impromptu ways. Both guides had to repeat the instructions several times to the new group members who apparently had a death wish. When there was something important but dangerous to see, like a hole in the ice that dropped several hundred feet down into a sub-glacier river, Sergio looked around and then yelled "Paola, stand there and hold them when they look down." It was very very cold (shocker!) and gently sleeting. Final answer: it was awesome, but not enjoyable. Hopefully that makes sense.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkcwT-lLqvjO5GTzbB2GfbMFhv-8ZM1gesf5hKUdqDmN8BTcWl9r4YcxQjPi_YhL5RD00LlS_mKUnTqAtcMstmQS89J_Xu-kyuPbuWMc8VHH7BNqTpi_JpDRL_MwcnOnC3hVsjTqXB7kgB1bKcIUFCxLA2rBB9xAvbE54MRO466cFR0or8IAMKCsm5w/s4032/IMG_0601.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkcwT-lLqvjO5GTzbB2GfbMFhv-8ZM1gesf5hKUdqDmN8BTcWl9r4YcxQjPi_YhL5RD00LlS_mKUnTqAtcMstmQS89J_Xu-kyuPbuWMc8VHH7BNqTpi_JpDRL_MwcnOnC3hVsjTqXB7kgB1bKcIUFCxLA2rBB9xAvbE54MRO466cFR0or8IAMKCsm5w/s320/IMG_0601.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Spikes, harness, and helmet, plus a pick pilfered for the photo. About to scale the glacier behind me.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnD35EHaBBd8p92kUK3OKIdfhol27je4PeBj7ymlsAqOAhwjC9P_DEx89xG4Q3cgSF3Hw6P7Z-_1R6VvyR-Q9acGVi44n8xMXITMhN1ClntIDOirCabnqqxqdZTkOsWPl8i0pvbcUMAE4_RyFtMVn_8-SXjnBKOmZJFJnTaQXBfD_xsK32Sl1qaCK26g/s4032/IMG_0604.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnD35EHaBBd8p92kUK3OKIdfhol27je4PeBj7ymlsAqOAhwjC9P_DEx89xG4Q3cgSF3Hw6P7Z-_1R6VvyR-Q9acGVi44n8xMXITMhN1ClntIDOirCabnqqxqdZTkOsWPl8i0pvbcUMAE4_RyFtMVn_8-SXjnBKOmZJFJnTaQXBfD_xsK32Sl1qaCK26g/s320/IMG_0604.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Glacier texture. Very spiky and hard; falls would result in blood for sure.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_REtv5K_9Ss4dWThAyGF8fqr2oG8ni4mi59OYa2ecvSIJSllHYcTzAOLBaeu0Ovi2mSzvQ2_vtMRdd14yzdfA6MPZJi9N8xUbJoxx-_RhHX7YMRLQYvWC9rFcWsp3xDmAvLM_3SepKvKWHuDB1xAvd-DHtJUoguwmwm55_7NLaGdYv83dSCJ_mhIrQ/s4032/IMG_0605.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_REtv5K_9Ss4dWThAyGF8fqr2oG8ni4mi59OYa2ecvSIJSllHYcTzAOLBaeu0Ovi2mSzvQ2_vtMRdd14yzdfA6MPZJi9N8xUbJoxx-_RhHX7YMRLQYvWC9rFcWsp3xDmAvLM_3SepKvKWHuDB1xAvd-DHtJUoguwmwm55_7NLaGdYv83dSCJ_mhIrQ/s320/IMG_0605.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gazing over the multi-hundred foot drop, with 90-pound Paola casually holding my harness for "safety."</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_k0wAg_6uxF5AK3pIdGC_gehQjSv8nvNK6OlH9XcXuxOQVIIFHkdvI2BGIk7vBp3NrfndXZw5FmiFoSM2RClWf6RsZpNlGh_auA1CRU14h1GzwzrT-g0uYwxaHru5umyhAokoOracnzPh-JCi09iPY8NZfrr2RrtQQrYfN0v9O9Vrzg0V96d07rwM5Q/s4032/IMG_0608.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_k0wAg_6uxF5AK3pIdGC_gehQjSv8nvNK6OlH9XcXuxOQVIIFHkdvI2BGIk7vBp3NrfndXZw5FmiFoSM2RClWf6RsZpNlGh_auA1CRU14h1GzwzrT-g0uYwxaHru5umyhAokoOracnzPh-JCi09iPY8NZfrr2RrtQQrYfN0v9O9Vrzg0V96d07rwM5Q/s320/IMG_0608.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Guide trailblazing under my watchful gaze.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFJZHQzv8Plma8sv5jFLMj4h1_ts3-PdvRAMgAWBc03qah_gwhI0f53tqJkp5ZSkmCuHU6k3vlamg2H7k50GIprQ18la-Aj09FyFojYg2ucRjEIyynLxyBZQntklmfUAfpkPzwWWm5TvD3gb-6lIKytc2yBR5M13hTiyjtPnlZwyp4qQh8yTB-mUjzcg/s4032/IMG_0613.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFJZHQzv8Plma8sv5jFLMj4h1_ts3-PdvRAMgAWBc03qah_gwhI0f53tqJkp5ZSkmCuHU6k3vlamg2H7k50GIprQ18la-Aj09FyFojYg2ucRjEIyynLxyBZQntklmfUAfpkPzwWWm5TvD3gb-6lIKytc2yBR5M13hTiyjtPnlZwyp4qQh8yTB-mUjzcg/s320/IMG_0613.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Glacier views. Water mountains.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRPb81prT9xMWYyB6miHzlvO1Hf4DWcaD0sQHOVxLi3sgL6nzdtqbqJxqr5SAWuEsjD9Dddy_l2A2_tO581-VcDsI7hTqxJz6P3tvFx_BRqjxpV_LPANrmvmJ7MTOpSl-eBLyG_RLsIO8k0xr0KsuAMe5D89Lnv_jO_gaKj17ar51NYzCB8NEdk_tZmQ/s4032/IMG_0620.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRPb81prT9xMWYyB6miHzlvO1Hf4DWcaD0sQHOVxLi3sgL6nzdtqbqJxqr5SAWuEsjD9Dddy_l2A2_tO581-VcDsI7hTqxJz6P3tvFx_BRqjxpV_LPANrmvmJ7MTOpSl-eBLyG_RLsIO8k0xr0KsuAMe5D89Lnv_jO_gaKj17ar51NYzCB8NEdk_tZmQ/s320/IMG_0620.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rubén and Sergio</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhU1EYg2NUvL9kEvTByVrBFoLX7tMVfKNl32P3p5YCHRFnPP29avpbysW2i0S6l4KoFCHC4ZpxDk_7nzwFlWO0F4gsprW-OE4f1bHZmuz2AkwQNEErNQSbbxwS_KA93E1QcjJQkZdyXhwJCMF2spVX8Vb2tpRIvcoR28Kun949CIj9gq3LWkJag4Bmg/s4032/IMG_0638.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhU1EYg2NUvL9kEvTByVrBFoLX7tMVfKNl32P3p5YCHRFnPP29avpbysW2i0S6l4KoFCHC4ZpxDk_7nzwFlWO0F4gsprW-OE4f1bHZmuz2AkwQNEErNQSbbxwS_KA93E1QcjJQkZdyXhwJCMF2spVX8Vb2tpRIvcoR28Kun949CIj9gq3LWkJag4Bmg/s320/IMG_0638.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The now complete group.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">With strained joints and sore calves, we made our way back down the glacier and into the boats. It was time to head into the Bay of Icebergs. Our captain for this portion was Niels, the most stereotypical sea-weathered explorer you could imagine. He deftly maneuvered the RIB in between thousands of icebergs, casually zipping along until the passage was completely blocked.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAIaFjmSRufESdoQMhoICJnYXHgp8cD8Mi6ruGSzHv8xyzd-T_CQxer5-OkDRBusmeMfkx021lC1mEMaEyyTclzKZO8CV7sz3dcTi_A-ijcUiVLferABmuMbHtejMeRfK9bgleOGQy1lTG78uk9cQfoYQ7e_X1kTb5NwC6A_AgZeWekQxBuP15FmXa3A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAIaFjmSRufESdoQMhoICJnYXHgp8cD8Mi6ruGSzHv8xyzd-T_CQxer5-OkDRBusmeMfkx021lC1mEMaEyyTclzKZO8CV7sz3dcTi_A-ijcUiVLferABmuMbHtejMeRfK9bgleOGQy1lTG78uk9cQfoYQ7e_X1kTb5NwC6A_AgZeWekQxBuP15FmXa3A" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Niels, everyone's new hero.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sergio and Niels conferred secretly for a bit, and the next thing we knew we were next to a hefty iceberg and Sergio was chipping it with his pick. He then whipped out some metal cups, put a little iceberg chip in each one, and poured some Martini liquor in there. At this point I would have preferred some hot tea, but I kept that to myself so as not to ruin the moment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Pbu9oWPPN8A" width="320" youtube-src-id="Pbu9oWPPN8A"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the way "home" Niels took us by some icebergs the size of buildings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BtOf4k2vFm8" width="320" youtube-src-id="BtOf4k2vFm8"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As well as "the wall," the edge of the glacier that sometimes pushed entire shelves of ice into the sea. Birds frequent the area because the falling ice churns up the water and fish are easier to hunt.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3Mufixrtxt8" width="320" youtube-src-id="3Mufixrtxt8"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The blue.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mFo5vqgw9KA" width="320" youtube-src-id="mFo5vqgw9KA"></iframe></div>Clickbait: I was impressed with the tiny ice slide, but then THIS happened!!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally it was our last day, and we had the option of re-exploring iceberg bay, this time by kayak. The smaller watercraft would allow us to be among the icebergs without the sound of a motor, and to get closer since the underwater portion may allow a kayak where a boat would get stranded. Our guide for this part warned that sometimes the icebergs didn't cooperate: they may drift out of kayak zones and we might not see much. But our phenomenal luck held: not only did we see a ton, one huge one even flipped for us!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here you see Corinne and Rubén followed by the Germans, followed by a big surprise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dG-ZMh-NJzQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="dG-ZMh-NJzQ"></iframe></div><br /><br /></div>Guys, that trip was magic. A lot of the best moments were generated by people, and you never know who will join you. Between that, the northern lights, the glacier breakage, and the volcano from Iceland, our luck was extraordinary. Wishing you tons of adventure for 2023!<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">Qujanaq for reading!</b></div><br /><div><br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-32077379945514282532022-09-07T18:45:00.011-07:002022-09-08T14:09:34.653-07:00Iceland, Round 2<p> For the first round of Iceland from 2016, see <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/search/label/Iceland" target="_blank">here</a>.</p><p>When Covid shutdowns were about a year in, I was struck with the adventure and remoteness that might be achieved with a trip to Greenland. I looked up some tours, but none were running - Greenland was particularly strict with its lockdown. By 2022, though, BF and I were hankering for a trip and Greenland was open again, so we set things up. </p><p>There are two airports with flights to Greenland: Reykjavik, Iceland and Copenhagen, Denmark. Since I had visited both cities before, this choice was up to BF, and he chose Iceland. Taking advantage of the necessity of being there anyway, we decided to arrive 4 days before the flight to Greenland and get some adventuring in. Boy, did we accomplish that!</p><p>Our priorities were waterfalls, the big lagoon, and puffins. But imagine my surprise when we picked up the rental car from Keflavik, started the 45 minute drive to Reykjavik, and saw this out the window:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ejt1QFk7-to" width="320" youtube-src-id="Ejt1QFk7-to"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;">Volcano alert!!!</div><br /><p>So of course, "seeing an active volcano" was quickly added to the to-do list. I quickly googled "how to hike to the volcano" and was pleasantly surprised to see that despite the Fagradalsfjall eruption beginning only 10 days prior, the country's government had set up a <a href="https://guidetoiceland.is/nature-info/complete-guide-to-the-2022-volcanic-eruption-of-fagradalsfjall-volcano" target="_blank">website</a>, parking lot, and well-marked (but not easy!) trail to visit the volcano. Of course, some of this preparation can be attributed to an eruption in the <a href="https://guidetoiceland.is/travel-iceland/drive/geldingadalur" target="_blank">same valley</a> in 2021. In the picture below, the 2021 eruption is in orange, and the one we saw, which lasted from August 3 to approximately August 20, is in red.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVu3oLeO4y-Lx7QBNUwvNFIDqZzTfK9aEHNL939oRfrifDNpZD9tpYAWOSmcVXjWHwUDtZmRY7A5fzwDxNZUI1mPW6T4QIiQaHa5NDdFD7FFO_3H8w4w6MlFCcvEcAqEOep-C7acGWGC2yl88ZjENXSczl7Sd-t40WqpWrTyg10aTpbDQlaLKQvXJ9EQ/s3619/MeradalirVolcanicEruptionMap_20220817.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3503" data-original-width="3619" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVu3oLeO4y-Lx7QBNUwvNFIDqZzTfK9aEHNL939oRfrifDNpZD9tpYAWOSmcVXjWHwUDtZmRY7A5fzwDxNZUI1mPW6T4QIiQaHa5NDdFD7FFO_3H8w4w6MlFCcvEcAqEOep-C7acGWGC2yl88ZjENXSczl7Sd-t40WqpWrTyg10aTpbDQlaLKQvXJ9EQ/w395-h383/MeradalirVolcanicEruptionMap_20220817.png" width="395" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The hike was over 4 hours round trip, not including the time we spent hypnotized by the eruption. It was a moderate hike, meaning for most people it is quite a challenge. I was surprised to see people attempting it in flimsy shoes and zero hiking gear, but everyone seemed to make it somehow (narrator: "<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/04/world/europe/fagradalsfjall-iceland-volcano-tourists.html" target="_blank">not everyone</a>"). As we approached the first part of the trail at 8am, we saw people walking back. We were nervous because we figured they must be walking back so early because the eruption had ended. When we got close enough we asked them why they had turned back: It turns out that they had started their hike around midnight the night before and stayed at the eruption site until 6 am, completely mesmerized. BF and I agreed that seeing it in the dark would be epic, but that hike was plenty difficult in the daylight and I doubt I could have made it in one piece with a flashlight. <div><br /></div><div>So after about 2 hours of rough terrain, we crested a ridge, and there it was! Still very far away and perched on the delicate dried lava from the 2021 eruption, the volcano was bubbling up a storm. I didn't know much about volcanoes (and still don't really), but I can report that it involves constant churning and sputtering at the center. It's not like, calm and then a big explosion, like a geyser. It's more like a cauldron. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJLSW6yRRxnsHtvTAcU-beYrY57Jn0hdoyNehsCq8pl5APGvRnZl9EnHJdagw75MXuUFr3rTM8VBuTjI9jz5JZs3CDYiI0L_2lrlMxFDwnCyUZiQLQI5EhbkPZLwfkgbiVgcgDhnXoeSI6CJmUkexrvQG1uavhwfVzWPUgBMuwVYlE2Np8EOboOWJug/s4032/IMG_0176.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJLSW6yRRxnsHtvTAcU-beYrY57Jn0hdoyNehsCq8pl5APGvRnZl9EnHJdagw75MXuUFr3rTM8VBuTjI9jz5JZs3CDYiI0L_2lrlMxFDwnCyUZiQLQI5EhbkPZLwfkgbiVgcgDhnXoeSI6CJmUkexrvQG1uavhwfVzWPUgBMuwVYlE2Np8EOboOWJug/s320/IMG_0176.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally made it...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OX3S9LaXnFI" width="320" youtube-src-id="OX3S9LaXnFI"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was so hard to leave! Every time we stood up to confront the long hike back, we kept lingering to see just one more slosh or explosion... It was like being hypnotized by a campfire but much more rare :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>For the other attractions, we got on the Ring Road (the road that rings the entire island) and went as far as time would allow. There are tons of things to see, and almost all of them are a quick, convenient turnoff from the main road, which makes it easy to get back on your way to the next site (but also ups the odds that you will see the same groups of tourists all day long). This <a href="https://nicholethenomad.com/travel-blog/reykjavik-to-vik" target="_blank">blog post</a> was very helpful in navigating the directions and sites, and we followed it almost 100%. <div><br /></div><div>While exploring the entire ring road would take at least a few weeks, we did the "mini" version and stayed only one night away from our city hotel. Our stay in Vik (Icelandic for "bay,") made for a very happy, yet cloudy and melancholic beach day. The sand on Vik's beaches is pitch black since it is composed of volcanic ash. On this beach, BF and I found the most perfect, smooth, circular rocks we had ever seen.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9JUXOU67KCsHCARttQij7rJuB_yC4enQ2aPGewu5Lc7ui7njLCdyoivj2p03coIpIq_r_5cwdXRmb5O3R9aU97avXl8aPPyJ_kkd3tXbsJFPSgYV3JdY1hdQd0cVFmD54Mw5Qh9QIESeR1hCcNtSyZkgThz1M_YzhHb8DljK2IYpyvZCah2CeSeavQ/s3376/IMG_0088.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3015" data-original-width="3376" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9JUXOU67KCsHCARttQij7rJuB_yC4enQ2aPGewu5Lc7ui7njLCdyoivj2p03coIpIq_r_5cwdXRmb5O3R9aU97avXl8aPPyJ_kkd3tXbsJFPSgYV3JdY1hdQd0cVFmD54Mw5Qh9QIESeR1hCcNtSyZkgThz1M_YzhHb8DljK2IYpyvZCah2CeSeavQ/s320/IMG_0088.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKpCgAIKaN6ruhMOEFo5bRxn5xdp7MhCrZNlVuYaD3m14Fvvsg8HfswTG9aPRVdQTKg_lmF2LgCgkGM8guRDaPqlNI7EML75E4CK9VCHJKWoHaKrnUKYmf9SkrbamEhO0x0fx-W1UYPHuvyR18NWBhk97wlQ6XMGj3thmfP5KNGaLOsfca7rZJ17NQw/s3821/IMG_0097.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2866" data-original-width="3821" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKpCgAIKaN6ruhMOEFo5bRxn5xdp7MhCrZNlVuYaD3m14Fvvsg8HfswTG9aPRVdQTKg_lmF2LgCgkGM8guRDaPqlNI7EML75E4CK9VCHJKWoHaKrnUKYmf9SkrbamEhO0x0fx-W1UYPHuvyR18NWBhk97wlQ6XMGj3thmfP5KNGaLOsfca7rZJ17NQw/s320/IMG_0097.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqveQjMit4wViWn2j3JXtku0QlDx7CYlM6skn701KXetA2ZFyrxjq3VG2pbPDbm8gxqb3rRQPswq6op-WXOve-OeE8zcqz6lb1AYJjzt7DfU8Z72kvfKFJfeNedFMG6kpVeZDAu7UygCH_zMInSULMAZIODEXsB2EYDt6GeuyRm4F0nHBg6jRIZ9l4EA/s2668/IMG_0070.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2668" data-original-width="2535" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqveQjMit4wViWn2j3JXtku0QlDx7CYlM6skn701KXetA2ZFyrxjq3VG2pbPDbm8gxqb3rRQPswq6op-WXOve-OeE8zcqz6lb1AYJjzt7DfU8Z72kvfKFJfeNedFMG6kpVeZDAu7UygCH_zMInSULMAZIODEXsB2EYDt6GeuyRm4F0nHBg6jRIZ9l4EA/s320/IMG_0070.heic" width="304" /></a></div><br /><div>Guess what! We also saw puffins!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/V93d6V4huTI" width="320" youtube-src-id="V93d6V4huTI"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This landscape was epic on its own... then came the puffins!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">P.s. this is probably the only puffin footage you will see without them having their beaks stuffed with fish. The world seems to have a strict law that all puffin photos must include a beakful of slimy fish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGHEXURbMW9I1lwa2wYNiWC6DGUJnKGS9BApxGtMez2ZcZeTZnIyDk93gnO80FZGjib2UVqv8llGIHOM5M1rOCkfOpFZ49iOF6CO9YPVNzjyUqjPV_lahgeOeaaZl2N1Jv27CuR2hAQDzR8JMSO20kT62fLPGcQ0r0H6rtpSyrTkdxmWI_e_MiCiMgw/s650/Puffin-5-650x425.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="650" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGHEXURbMW9I1lwa2wYNiWC6DGUJnKGS9BApxGtMez2ZcZeTZnIyDk93gnO80FZGjib2UVqv8llGIHOM5M1rOCkfOpFZ49iOF6CO9YPVNzjyUqjPV_lahgeOeaaZl2N1Jv27CuR2hAQDzR8JMSO20kT62fLPGcQ0r0H6rtpSyrTkdxmWI_e_MiCiMgw/s320/Puffin-5-650x425.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFDugr4u9IecGK09ktsOQvvzxzUWfe__2BVsHlw-ItEyW98FeN7e7fhWZfp1tHhDIyfjuCjP16IHcUqnSyKAZ66GKdH1hZXd_8r-7AgYb0XdDA8uGfQQwtaPSMk2JR8JLRXGhpSJBkgk4zw6tgCiWmpYG8ZnTUmEUtE0L9ihP8dKYRGF4VhbYtMGxFQ/s2200/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-07%20at%209.44.57%20PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="2200" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFDugr4u9IecGK09ktsOQvvzxzUWfe__2BVsHlw-ItEyW98FeN7e7fhWZfp1tHhDIyfjuCjP16IHcUqnSyKAZ66GKdH1hZXd_8r-7AgYb0XdDA8uGfQQwtaPSMk2JR8JLRXGhpSJBkgk4zw6tgCiWmpYG8ZnTUmEUtE0L9ihP8dKYRGF4VhbYtMGxFQ/s320/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-07%20at%209.44.57%20PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jesus Christ!</div><br /></div><div><br /><div>And of course, we got our waterfall and lagoon fix as well. Have a peak at my <a href="https://www.instagram.com/manda_goes/?hl=en" target="_blank">Instagram</a> for pics of those!</div><div><br /></div><div>After so much adventure in Iceland, we weren't sure how Greenland could even compare... but the biggest island in the world has its own marvels in store that would absolutely blow us away. I'll try to write about it soon!<br /><br /><p></p></div></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-40941234446650292412022-01-17T08:48:00.004-08:002022-09-07T17:23:10.100-07:00Zanzibar<p>One thing that got me through the hike was fantasizing about reading my book in the sun on a warm beach. I highly recommend adding Zanzibar to any Kilimanjaro itinerary, because the flight is short (less than 1.5 hours) and the payoff is satisfying. Zanzibar is technically a semi-autonomous zone of Tanzania and the same visa will allow for entry to both areas despite the confusing online registration process. </p><p>We stayed in the northern part of the island, Nungwi, which was a 2 hour drive from the airport. In hindsight I would say this isn't really necessary. While our hotel was epic and the day trips were plentiful, it was really far from everything. If you want even one dinner in town be ready to have a high taxi bill. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVgk6ui5fWj8WF3R41rCAcggqdM-ZDSUIhdwK7zUhTg0fn_R5tVebPpTn6oRzqFRiwHbQPBDDQZUsZI-A1LgMCIboxBOEJID8tAUag3bTmvjeggbpCGtqvfGJyodsJumWEe7c1yO-ghFsZMuusExnVRWPi6_VFY9-UWWtk0GOn674mbNWOIc15VoJ8Fw=s3294" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3294" data-original-width="2745" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVgk6ui5fWj8WF3R41rCAcggqdM-ZDSUIhdwK7zUhTg0fn_R5tVebPpTn6oRzqFRiwHbQPBDDQZUsZI-A1LgMCIboxBOEJID8tAUag3bTmvjeggbpCGtqvfGJyodsJumWEe7c1yO-ghFsZMuusExnVRWPi6_VFY9-UWWtk0GOn674mbNWOIc15VoJ8Fw=s320" width="267" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The land beach: everything you need. Just not water access.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5NuPh5EZW3C60sCpCudA5MtMtjQxGGURTXgJB6gIpaxbsr2FFZSZaJwQPMs9rZIhqyV8nAdTwqEqI1QeENeTHCwDa41v14tWk87ZDCs2pFOsjtzBpR5k4UbkkPIVI2HFDdZifGhALQyh5hwWNYz0ba_kENg7tcBd74haHuqEJQ7akZBpIXWX1nuDHrA=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5NuPh5EZW3C60sCpCudA5MtMtjQxGGURTXgJB6gIpaxbsr2FFZSZaJwQPMs9rZIhqyV8nAdTwqEqI1QeENeTHCwDa41v14tWk87ZDCs2pFOsjtzBpR5k4UbkkPIVI2HFDdZifGhALQyh5hwWNYz0ba_kENg7tcBd74haHuqEJQ7akZBpIXWX1nuDHrA=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stayed in a "love shack" separate from the main hotel rooms. It was adorable, but didn't have AC. </td></tr></tbody></table><p>The first thing you'll notice on the drive to your lodging is that while mainland Tanzania is mostly Christian with no major outward signs of religious affiliation, Zanzibar is very visibly Muslim. Niqabs and Thobes were very common sights. The hotels that cater to tourists are very accepting of western beachwear, but make sure to cover up when you leave the coastline. These orthodox views seem to be pushed aside, however, to accommodate some island-wide pride for Freddie Mercury, who was born in Stone Town. There were billboards of Freddie, but only face up (no sexy unitard), among the small mosques and gender segregated crowds. </p><p>There are some fabulous sights to see around the island. We drove to the Jozani rainforest and saw some amazing red Colobus monkeys, which only live in Zanzibar. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/giWaawQjpvc" width="320" youtube-src-id="giWaawQjpvc"></iframe></div><p><br /></p><p>One activity that I wouldn't recommend is swimming with dolphins. While in some locales this might have been a more intimate experience, our tour consisted of putting us on a small boat, driving out to where there were about 30 other boats, and spotting dolphin fins (that part was actually great). But then once the captains saw them, all the boats would noisily speed over, and the captain would command us, "Jump!" and we would flop into the water as the dolphins obviously sped away at top speed. Then we were left to have some scheduled recreational water time which was made rather stressful due to there being 30 boats bobbing in the water with anchor ropes everywhere. The fish were amazing and colorful but every time I lifted my head from the water I would realize something harrowing like I was between two boats that were about to slam together. </p><p>It might have been our tour, though. We booked a huge 12 hour tour to try to see as much of the island as possible but also spend most of our time relaxing. We knew things were not going to be premium level when as we got in the van, the guide hopped in the passenger seat, leaned (but didn't turn) his head back toward us, and casually remarked, "Let me know if you have any questions about Zanzibar, ok?" He then entered into a clearly private discussion with the driver, who sped everywhere, and eventually got pulled over (he hopped out and appeared to settle the matter by paying the officer directly (!!!)). Overall I would say neither the driver nor the guide were very interested in having us.</p><p>The beaches were lovely, but at least in the north, the strong tides result in what seems to be miles of stony, kinda pokey rock instead of sand, and very very shallow water that is impossible to swim in. Here's <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/94185526@N04/40585195380" target="_blank">someone else's pic</a> of the scene.</p><p>Generally the hotel, fauna, and "land" beach experiences were great, with the "water" beach and tour not quite meeting expectations... and everything complicated due to having to schedule Covid tests. A word of advice: whenever you are given the option to pay for a Covid test in advance in Zanzibar, DO IT, no matter how onerous the online process. Even if they say you can pay at the test center, you actually can't. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KHsHtioh3so" width="320" youtube-src-id="KHsHtioh3so"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>A great hotel: the <a href="https://www.booking.com/hotel/tz/the-zanzibari.html" target="_blank">Zanzabari</a></p><p>A not so great tour: <a href="https://www.viator.com/tours/Kizimkazi/Zanzibar-Full-Day-Dolphin-Tour-Jozani-Forest-Paje-Beach-and-The-Rock-Restaurant/d50816-262913P124?m=63070&nid=VR.55581133-d1f1-41ac-bff9-b5b349308fac.VT_EMAIL_TRV" target="_blank">this one</a>. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-56166604983995807972022-01-15T19:22:00.030-08:002022-05-18T10:26:59.562-07:00Hiking Mount Kilimanjaro<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Having acclimated to the best of our ability in Rwanda, we hopped on a flight to the small JRO airport near the mountain in Tanzania. We were excited, until we saw this - then we were just nervous:</span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wTPu5il6vsk" width="320" youtube-src-id="wTPu5il6vsk"></iframe><br />Wuuuuuuut<br /><br /></span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">At that point it sank in that this was not just a hiking trip. But we were still surprised when we basically crumbled instead of sauntering to a photogenic triumph of a summit. Let me explain:</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">You can't hike Kilimanjaro on your own, even if you're Awesome McHikerPro. Booking campsites in advance requires varying degrees of professional involvement, to say nothing of the guidance you will need in things like finding the right trail (if you're most people) and how to put one foot in front of the other without collapsing (if you're me). We researched which company to go with quite a bit. We settled on <a href="https://www.ultimatekilimanjaro.com/" target="_blank">Ultimate Kilimanjaro</a> because they use locals not only as porters but also as lead and assistant lead guides, and we didn't want to set ourselves up for a magical experience in Africa only to be led by European guides. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our lead guide was Robert, a very experienced native Tanzanian who was older than me by a few years but looked about 22. I was initially convinced his youthful appearance was due to all the fresh outdoor time and perhaps some secret mountain magic, but if that was the case it did not translate to my complexion - by day 8 I looked like someone who had been kidnapped and chained to a radiator for 70 years. Maybe his skin was cryogenically frozen from the 5° fahrenheit temperatures at the summit</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">? Not sure. Anyway, besides having summitted approximately 200 times, once in as little as two days (we asked), Robert had the best English of the group. The assistant lead guides were Mauru, a young and insanely fit expert (pretty much everyone was insanely fit actually) and Dismas, nicknamed Kikura, a slightly older man (maybe 50? 60? The cryogenics make it hard to tell), and I am not exaggerating when I say I think he personally knew every local on the mountain. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The company offers quite a few trip options, and you can choose your route and your hike duration. The longer the duration, the higher the chances of success (i.e., making it to the summit and not getting injured). That's because the number one reason people don't complete the hike is altitude sickness, and the longer you take to get up the mountain, the longer you have for acclimation. Wanting to give ourselves the best shot we could, we chose the 8 day Lemosho route. While there were quite a few scrambles (holding onto a rock above you and hoisting yourself up), the majority of the route was "just" walking for 6 days (with porters setting up camps for us at night) and descending for 2 days. Sounds totally manageable, right? Especially for some relatively young, relatively fit people like me and Boyfriend, right?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We did not manage.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The very first night, Boyfriend didn't sleep because he was so sick to his stomach. The guides confirmed that we hadn't hiked high enough to trigger altitude sickness yet, so the consensus was that the culprit was food poisoning. The guides did their best to make him comfortable and help him recover. He hiked for another very uncomfortable day, but didn't get any desperately needed sleep the second night either - the food poisoning was not going away and was sapping his strength. On day 3, he made the heartbreaking decision to go recover at the hotel - what else could he do? He turned back and Mauru escorted him to the hotel to make sure he was ok. Getting from the trail to the emergency evacuation road and back to the hotel took about 4 hours, I would find out later. Please imagine having food poisoning for 2 days then having to wait 4 hours before getting to a place with plumbing. Poor Boyfriend.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As soon as Boyfriend turned the corner from us I had a little cry - but Kikura was not having it. He came right up to me and in true older man fashion he comforted me by ordering me, "Be happy!" "Ok, thanks," I replied. "Just processing this since it just happened about 5 second ago." Kikura became mock stern. "If you stay unhappy, we go back right now!" Bless him. He was using soothing strategies straight out of a 1950s parenting book. I thought this would damage our relationship but Kikura would later practically carry me up the last 1,000 feet of the mountain, and my overall opinion of him is very favorable despite his lack of Sensitivity Training for Crying Westerners. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I continued with the rest of our group. Besides the guides (temporarily minus Mauru), there were over 20 porters who came with our group of 6 (well, now 5) hikers. Outrageous, right? Approximately 4 Tanzanian porters per hiker. They were kept busy with bringing our food, tents, and equipment to each of the nightly camps, setting up our portable toilet every day (BLESS), and generally keeping us alive. I was very curious to see what the other hikers in our group would be like. They ranged in age from 25 to 44, 2 were solo travelers and the other two were a pair of roommates. They were from the Czech Republic, Brazil, and the US, but they were all white (we saw a few people of color in other tour groups, but the majority were European/white). </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJ_WOxRo56Tat1QMo8iDQ606KNhbtrk9g-1MLfbTktE93IVjJsW8xGAykHK7_p1RIrJYYeEwK55zyRnPN87Ndbg9rY2KVNM8lg4VjE1SqnqA9RQUdp8tHNhmC5MNa26vCALbeDOI9CbTlWr7I-6avZMjkqvad43I9gg7mRDkS-XI0Bwv2_l6uog4hpmA=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJ_WOxRo56Tat1QMo8iDQ606KNhbtrk9g-1MLfbTktE93IVjJsW8xGAykHK7_p1RIrJYYeEwK55zyRnPN87Ndbg9rY2KVNM8lg4VjE1SqnqA9RQUdp8tHNhmC5MNa26vCALbeDOI9CbTlWr7I-6avZMjkqvad43I9gg7mRDkS-XI0Bwv2_l6uog4hpmA=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This is all our group! Kikura bottom left, Mauru right next to him. Robert is on the far right.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I would say the hike is mostly divided into 3 parts: general climb, summit night/day, and descent. It appeared to me that the hikers in our group were enjoying the general climb against all logic. It was constantly cold and wet; we often had sleet whipped into our faces for hours at a time. The magic of waking up at cloud level was lost on me after about 1 hour of hiking, and each day held about 7-8 hours of hiking, so that math did not work out in my favor. It was super interesting to see the mountain flora, which we all agreed seemed surreal and otherworldly and very interesting. Interesting, but not warm. I needed something warm.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0EIIvvlgpSS0oKifEpS4d8YDWFEjwOA5P7OmbwpcZybhhiG32sSm5qBC_io7dYTOxhLZw1uZZTpJoyf41Ok60gm4HqIOmmns-0buc5Bugl1ACYPHFNnhG3YPwNNKfCyd8Sy-NCqUHpTk2OLoO-o0KSY4czmJMqvoOQyf3mFxro3csBwQm3eObsNhORw=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0EIIvvlgpSS0oKifEpS4d8YDWFEjwOA5P7OmbwpcZybhhiG32sSm5qBC_io7dYTOxhLZw1uZZTpJoyf41Ok60gm4HqIOmmns-0buc5Bugl1ACYPHFNnhG3YPwNNKfCyd8Sy-NCqUHpTk2OLoO-o0KSY4czmJMqvoOQyf3mFxro3csBwQm3eObsNhORw=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Bit of a traffic jam at a steep scramble - typical at the <a href="https://www.passportandpixels.com/kilimanjaro-lemosho-route-barranco-wall/" target="_blank">Barranco wall</a> because of its narrow trail.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWcxSx7r931FmFR3nTP8twHKbJUPM1fS4ewT6ho_XIYoI8dGmc0N20uX8RpJL1epQenUquk73JPj_7l5TjJY6Vad8fL9p42z1mOF35AYXaT2EuNnDmeGufV4LbjTyVgD2ee6Q2H1etprD2KELbHglO33zTNxOzF8__C3HCbz0ddABM5ccVqNYAL65XVw=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWcxSx7r931FmFR3nTP8twHKbJUPM1fS4ewT6ho_XIYoI8dGmc0N20uX8RpJL1epQenUquk73JPj_7l5TjJY6Vad8fL9p42z1mOF35AYXaT2EuNnDmeGufV4LbjTyVgD2ee6Q2H1etprD2KELbHglO33zTNxOzF8__C3HCbz0ddABM5ccVqNYAL65XVw=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Clumsily traipsing through the alien landscapes.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimgcG71hoOf18KrxOVzTGI6sMrtHBiGCv5KeM7v_gMmeUwLP7kH84BFbVPpPH5vldg3LTFk3Jeq-zKJy_NgU-j12qRvXrgB3GNSswBq4OHd_ro0lYuHleBiJ1jviuvJyEVoTBAKbv347X_eT8g3uqz0VDOksaYOOa4JoukTcx7t_Qql3EnmgFOiGlWnw=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimgcG71hoOf18KrxOVzTGI6sMrtHBiGCv5KeM7v_gMmeUwLP7kH84BFbVPpPH5vldg3LTFk3Jeq-zKJy_NgU-j12qRvXrgB3GNSswBq4OHd_ro0lYuHleBiJ1jviuvJyEVoTBAKbv347X_eT8g3uqz0VDOksaYOOa4JoukTcx7t_Qql3EnmgFOiGlWnw=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had been told there would be quite a bit of downtime, but really only one day gave us enough time to use the cards I had brought. Here we are in the mess tent. I taught everyone Egyptian Rat Screw and they promptly beat me. Rude.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8_EQOm_NP9vROjzkWOWqjPuz5cxYVLNRoePiDP18OgSe75-shh7vJm5cG58RPHt41LUPznbiQGj6PbHU60XD9rC1garZBpBSVVamnuILE0rDokAErOdHp0nGtvguwrMdzDTjUTmKIXU1CU17Bcy8WO26kjr_7cHGhGogpnzoK5ZqesGFZ0UfB3bHcKg=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8_EQOm_NP9vROjzkWOWqjPuz5cxYVLNRoePiDP18OgSe75-shh7vJm5cG58RPHt41LUPznbiQGj6PbHU60XD9rC1garZBpBSVVamnuILE0rDokAErOdHp0nGtvguwrMdzDTjUTmKIXU1CU17Bcy8WO26kjr_7cHGhGogpnzoK5ZqesGFZ0UfB3bHcKg=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our tents and the stars. Again, I know that this is objectively cool. I just couldn't appreciate it because it was so uncomfortable.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PRzSTv0Htaw" width="320" youtube-src-id="PRzSTv0Htaw"></iframe></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Have a look <a href="https://www.kilimanjaro-experience.com/mt-kilimanjaro/fauna-flora/" target="_blank">here</a> for a more in-depth explanation of the flora and fauna of the mountain, because god knows I was not ready to fully absorb the lesson.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DfBCag7TFO4" width="320" youtube-src-id="DfBCag7TFO4"></iframe></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Waking up above the clouds: Magical. And so cold.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">To be fair, our amazing porters always hiked ahead of us and set up tea and coffee for when we dragged ourselves into camp for the night. Again, we were taken care of. I just didn't enjoy it on a physical level, that's all. Mentally I knew that what I was doing was awesome, and a big accomplishment, and a privilege. But it still sucked for me. I knew that I was on my own in this because the other hikers in our group would casually mention their next 20,000 foot + mountain that they intended to hike, and from DAY ONE I knew I would never put myself through anything like this again.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Almost every meal was hot, and it was incredible and somewhat guilt-inducing to realize that each meal's ingredients had been lugged up the mountain since Day 1, even including the scrambled eggs that were often served with breakfast. It's very sobering to think that every step I had taken that day had also been taken by a porter <i>carrying 36 eggs without breaking them</i>. So meals and guidance were top notch, but other comforts were fleeting. For example, experienced campers and climbers will correctly assume that there were to be no showers for 8 days. My beauty routine consisted of wet wipes and hand sanitizer, and it showed. By day 8 the skin on my nose was pretty much disintegrated from me trying to wipe it with a harsh toilet paper in 10 degree weather for days at a time. I just had to resign myself to the fact that no one was about to win any beauty pageants here except for Robert.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Finally it was time for summit night. We set out at around 10:30pm with our headlamps to attempt to make it to the summit for sunrise. Sunrise came and went when I was about 5/7ths of the way up. So it goes. Other hikers in our group made it "on time" with Mauru (who had quickly hiked to meet our group after dropping Boyfriend off) and GoodLuck (Tanzanians have the best names). Kikura and Robert stayed back to help me and Giselle, the Brazilian (hi Giselle!) as we s-t-r-u-g-g-l-e-d to keep going to the top. No scenery, no extrinsic motivation - just darkness and your own inner dialogue <i>(WhyAmIDoingThis</i></span><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">WhyAmIDoingThis</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">WhyAmIDoingThis</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">WhyAmIDoingThis</span></i><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>WhyAmIDoingThis)</i> periodically interrupted by a guide's encouraging interjection or spirit-raising song. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">At one point Kikura had to tell us to take slower steps so that we could preserve our strength - apparently he was not a fan of me stopping every 15 minutes, hunching over and sucking wind. He counted out the steps methodically ("one... two... one... two...") and Giselle and I were hanging on every word. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I should mention here that I was hopped up on Diamox, the altitude sickness prevention pill, and had been taking it as indicated. I STILL could not get enough air. I wasn't in pain or feeling exerted. I was just generally drained, which matches altitude issue symptoms. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, after repeatedly sinking to my knees in various nooks and crannies of the mountain and muttering under my breath that I was done and not going any higher, I was pulled up by Kikura and/or Robert and trudged to the top. Look at how put together and savvy I was:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHwx4VTKmw-wyvUj9E_ZA-biZe6wG2akLSHg-VK3q07VxHawIrDYckqsruW6fOgXP_J3jYgmZFN32daZkdpYQBDcEBvzHs1Tf0zVrCZDybmolJUAuhNHGEUeYyNnKZXisaaSJF27FFA40gosvVxQH2eWqPsllxv8Krm76OZFJvhqcTeUC6VQMHlqaK1g=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHwx4VTKmw-wyvUj9E_ZA-biZe6wG2akLSHg-VK3q07VxHawIrDYckqsruW6fOgXP_J3jYgmZFN32daZkdpYQBDcEBvzHs1Tf0zVrCZDybmolJUAuhNHGEUeYyNnKZXisaaSJF27FFA40gosvVxQH2eWqPsllxv8Krm76OZFJvhqcTeUC6VQMHlqaK1g=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The first peak was Stella Point. <i>I did not even know which direction the camera was in. </i>It's an absolute miracle I didn't walk off the side of the mountain.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"> <br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHcw_b8t4_Hi6WXKyXZ9aZL7zxZQJw3XG2cqv_uYkl6JG8Upb2AUT_DSFDLYxGqi8slFfimlmenLPQIoeYxaPK3KZdq-6gSXO8enOuqHy-QHcNftPFDfkA8NwxPTZYRnBPLs1r5i7RF4jAh6_2wgDELZ1AaQ_fFfe8h7xk6PqjQgZJINfpuYNYZ8sIbg=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHcw_b8t4_Hi6WXKyXZ9aZL7zxZQJw3XG2cqv_uYkl6JG8Upb2AUT_DSFDLYxGqi8slFfimlmenLPQIoeYxaPK3KZdq-6gSXO8enOuqHy-QHcNftPFDfkA8NwxPTZYRnBPLs1r5i7RF4jAh6_2wgDELZ1AaQ_fFfe8h7xk6PqjQgZJINfpuYNYZ8sIbg=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There were glaciers and stuff up there. That other peak is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Meru_(Tanzania)" target="_blank">Mount Meru</a>. </span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSUb4lgSUCwRv1Z2BDT4nwi0t-i7UkC4MelH4HDNwjilyOHGOoNxW_tHELQgPoLzx0Mx-SRq35fNFA2v546dyln-ig7B0orEa3FiKcoPIwQSJAE5mVVCQ6HukDMQnS3VcZiRjuo8xygSuwA8k3hau-OTLpb0yTp1RDsBn0Nw9rp2C81-vdMGLLZBK2Pg=s320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Glaciers on the Kilimanjaro peak have been shrinking steadily; <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/19/world/africa/mountain-glaciers-disappear.html" target="_blank">it's feared</a> they may disappear completely by 2030.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-LCEze8feet-KYDXSLoSxF7ACHu8EKKDsLhKnX9FEWtYI6cBUgdd0BpurT0r_e-Rpb8MkMPzHyfT9l8PWrowoN-LWRduY5m0wbaY-Z5jo_peN2is6VLMS86IjH8kGMc9xIWMnNszUQPYFo74yTsnmdM2CgXSrQwAcaToaeinqYiEhHZx0CZHWQ-QfEA=s3112" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3112" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-LCEze8feet-KYDXSLoSxF7ACHu8EKKDsLhKnX9FEWtYI6cBUgdd0BpurT0r_e-Rpb8MkMPzHyfT9l8PWrowoN-LWRduY5m0wbaY-Z5jo_peN2is6VLMS86IjH8kGMc9xIWMnNszUQPYFo74yTsnmdM2CgXSrQwAcaToaeinqYiEhHZx0CZHWQ-QfEA=s320" width="311" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Kikura, me, and Robert at the official summit - Uhuru peak. Notice Robert carrying my pack - I had held out for the majority of the hike but with 800 feet to go he plucked it off of my back as, sobbing, I tried to take an unscheduled nap on a vertical rock.</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><u><br /></u></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The summit is not a cool place to hang out. Yes, the views are spectacular, but there were dozens of people waiting to take their lame pictures (<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CYwUGrgLXCE/" target="_blank">ahem</a>) and did I mention it is 19,341 feet in the air with very little oxygen? So I was up there for about 10 minutes.</span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">THE DESCENT</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Given that we had 6 days to climb and only 2 scheduled for descent, I thought we would have an easy way down. No. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It is a different route to descend, but it's not easier. The guides just usher you on more quickly (since there is no altitude concern anymore). About 1/4 of it is reeeeeeally sandy and you kind of half slide half stumble down. It's one of those "your knees will hurt for days afterward" kind of setups. You will definitely want trekking poles. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Along the descent path we saw very strange looking wire carts with a single wheel. Robert let us know that these were emergency stretchers. People are far more likely to get hurt on the descent than on the way up (!!!) and those things serve as a rudimentary ambulance for emergencies but honestly they seem to be deathtraps in and of themselves. Addressing my incredulity, Kikura promptly demonstrated how they work. In hindsight this was really interesting, but at the time I was just grateful for a little break. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlRe81A_BR81PAq9kStNP6xMHuBZayrm_Cs4_DduDo7UJu7aqwtBUx7uP1x-WMg7RvGZZpICtZScWMEwtrip25EHWpndmYBnL8ZvLo1X4pBR6tpu5u5nejop7Qv-loJ9vUrK4_Rv9AJGCX/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlRe81A_BR81PAq9kStNP6xMHuBZayrm_Cs4_DduDo7UJu7aqwtBUx7uP1x-WMg7RvGZZpICtZScWMEwtrip25EHWpndmYBnL8ZvLo1X4pBR6tpu5u5nejop7Qv-loJ9vUrK4_Rv9AJGCX/" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />So we made it down to the base, and hopped in our van for the 2.5 hour drive back to the hotel. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLOq41Z1pdNXE6BMJXqT93l80d8VQF5oGaS13c0K_-bfXC4I9Ke17LBYZZFKWalIRAqQ_0wD77eMUQBkd-v1wzLONt9cmmqY9H6VwtH-XgtZgPSUgtcuTFlnhwL4haXWiyoPnZMMzpGqbAaLMHAGC95cEPelskDrAf2ZkUNrINfIsuz1b5SU3zOZRXiw=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLOq41Z1pdNXE6BMJXqT93l80d8VQF5oGaS13c0K_-bfXC4I9Ke17LBYZZFKWalIRAqQ_0wD77eMUQBkd-v1wzLONt9cmmqY9H6VwtH-XgtZgPSUgtcuTFlnhwL4haXWiyoPnZMMzpGqbAaLMHAGC95cEPelskDrAf2ZkUNrINfIsuz1b5SU3zOZRXiw=s320" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sign at the very end of the descent trail: Congratulations, Bon Voyage.</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Boyfriend was there and I was finally happy again. Then I promptly got preposterously sick myself, either with food poisoning or perhaps delayed onset altitude sickness. Thank heaven above I was at the hotel when this set in and I weathered the storm in a comfortable bed, propped up on pillows and reading my book and instructing Boyfriend on how to pack my heavy luggage. Because it was time to recover, pronto, which meant that we needed to catch a flight to Zanzibar.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1MUwtX3tS6gaoNVoOly8taBFGL5KYls1UYjN-k5LHoun1Uh-WmsbGmSWXxcirSaoAaOIaE6l5JmvXJUxOIoib_DQGOomBObKBvLfNJQvVrA1QbQoGIgGKlgwjOI9VXuzm3vfhaGYdbFHvE5SpBn7B7n6_rMJl6RLLpEosdjOuATQ7WdrksSYBGtUcqg=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1MUwtX3tS6gaoNVoOly8taBFGL5KYls1UYjN-k5LHoun1Uh-WmsbGmSWXxcirSaoAaOIaE6l5JmvXJUxOIoib_DQGOomBObKBvLfNJQvVrA1QbQoGIgGKlgwjOI9VXuzm3vfhaGYdbFHvE5SpBn7B7n6_rMJl6RLLpEosdjOuATQ7WdrksSYBGtUcqg=s320" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hikers and lead guides. If you summit you get a personalized certificate. Here we are with ours, each having lost about 10 pounds, weather beaten and ugly as sin (except for the flawless beauty of the local guides).<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Next and final stop for this trip: Zanzibar...</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-26548398230774883652022-01-13T08:20:00.003-08:002022-05-18T10:27:50.344-07:00Primate tracking in Rwanda<p>In December of 2021, it was finally time to bite the bullet and go on our next big Africa trip after cancelling and rebooking multiple times due to Covid. The plan: to hike Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.</p><p>Since one of the main reasons that people fail to summit is altitude sickness, these sea-level city dwellers decided to arrive in the region a few days early to acclimate. Our first plan was to visit Ethiopia (Addis Ababa elevation: 7,726 feet), but a few weeks before our arrival there was a <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/11/world/africa/ethiopia-biden-abiy-ahmed-tigray.html" target="_blank">full on civil war</a> brewing there, so we scrapped that plan. In fact, with airlines canceling flights left and right and Covid surging rather outrageously, we scrapped quite a few plans between the first idea of the trip (Summer 2020) and its execution (December 2021). Some might say that we forced this trip to happen despite many signs from the universe that perhaps it should not. So for the people who always have good reasons not to travel and keep postponing your trips - your decision is valid! </p><p>After some expert Googling ("Safe countries in Africa" and "High altitude countries in East Africa," then cross referencing), we landed on Rwanda, average elevation 6,000 feet. And when you search for things to do in Rwanda, you will see that approximately 99 out of 100 tourist attractions there involve some form of primate tracking - Chimps or Gorillas. Boyfriend and I decided that since it wasn't likely that we would come back anytime soon, we had better do both. </p><p>We would have 5 days in Rwanda total, and booked a tour that would take us literally around the entire country during that time... which is why it was a shock at the airport to hear that the national quarantine period had been extended from 24 hours to 3 days. Luckily, when we got to our hotel in Kigali, the tour guide informed us that they had successfully applied for a quarantine waiver for us. As you can imagine, like many places around the world, Rwanda is torn between protecting its citizens' health and its economy. We had 2 negative Covid tests by that point (leaving Boston, arrival in Kigali) so we were able to slip out for our tour after 24 hours and another negative test. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDP1wDPsxQYquYRedKS6F4QcsVwm9S8Nn6SQTw0OVQBTJlhaD5pe8MRLbztDZnsIGliWfF0Et7CCKkQCEtzb7Y-e5_J1_oa0ueZdp2m6a21xGEytn4J5LBFRGslNrM_XZ0t0IXJ4aq4os/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1441" data-original-width="1146" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDP1wDPsxQYquYRedKS6F4QcsVwm9S8Nn6SQTw0OVQBTJlhaD5pe8MRLbztDZnsIGliWfF0Et7CCKkQCEtzb7Y-e5_J1_oa0ueZdp2m6a21xGEytn4J5LBFRGslNrM_XZ0t0IXJ4aq4os/" width="191" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Size of Rwanda compared to US. Africa is obviously humongous but this lil country is still quite small. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><p></p><p>First we went for the chimps. We drove about 6 hours from Kigali to get to Nyungwe Forest National Park, which is quite close to the Burundi border (closed due to Covid) and DRC border (technically open but off limits due to danger). After a night at the hotel, we set out around 5am because, as the guides noted sagely, "The chimps wake up every morning." I thought this piece of information was pretty widely known and didn't warrant special mention from a guide, but then Mike pointed out that he had actually said "The chimps wake up <i>early</i> morning" in a thick Swahili accent, and that was certainly an understatement.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfjeQrdg2ZfS6mCQKGO6LrYsAUwvm0RWxc3H5CYZD-56KaQLxAzBpHajJL_wAI3Jg-VIg-XlaHewYE5lFOSRddWtir0VuNSGCQM9sAmQtb9mnE4vLWIYV5Ajqy_3KlfspqP0zeu8iubDX/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfjeQrdg2ZfS6mCQKGO6LrYsAUwvm0RWxc3H5CYZD-56KaQLxAzBpHajJL_wAI3Jg-VIg-XlaHewYE5lFOSRddWtir0VuNSGCQM9sAmQtb9mnE4vLWIYV5Ajqy_3KlfspqP0zeu8iubDX/" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise on the way to Nyungwe</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We geared up for what would be a 6.5 hour jungle hike which was rendered more treacherous by ample rainfall - the trail was extremely steep and slippery, and most places we planned to go had no trail at all and had to be macheted by the professional chimp trackers. We joined a small family who would be in our tracking group, and couldn't help but remark that this family included an elderly woman who was wearing tennis shoes. Within the first few minutes of the hike she had shared that she was an avid tennis player at 86 years old and that though she might be a little slow and had forgotten her hiking shoes, she was game for this hike. I was like: you go, granny, that's awesome! But a few minutes later she was completely out of sight and within an hour one of the tour guides had to turn back and escort her to the parking lot and her family had to abandon the tour. There was talk of her being carried out on a litter. Anyway I say this because I want to convey that people are delusional and have very deranged notions of what they are and are not capable of. This is important to remember when I describe my Kilimanjaro hike. <p></p><p>ANYway, like with many tourist attractions worldwide (cough <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2016/11/iceland-lights-and-lagoons.html" target="_blank">Northern Lights</a> cough) there is no guarantee that you will see what you pay to see. Chimps make fresh new nests every night in order to minimize the likelihood of being infected with parasites, and as soon as I heard that explanation I got very concerned that I sleep in the same bed every night. Anyway, in about hour 4 we were thrilled to see a single chimp, very far away but very vocal, in the lush Nyungwe canopy. The trackers set off and about 30 minutes later radioed our guide - they had found a family!</p><p><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CYmQVR5F1o4/" target="_blank">Chimp footage here</a></p><p>I have to say that for creatures that spend so much time in trees, they come off as pretty maladroit. "Juveniles" (as the guides called them) and adults alike seemed to have some trouble deciding if a given branch would hold their weight or not, with hilarious consequences. </p><p>Reminiscent of our <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2014/01/what-do-you-call-fresh-wildebeest.html" target="_blank">safari</a> a few years ago, the hierarchy of primate importance became apparent early on. Before we even left the car we saw some beautiful mountain monkeys. When we got to the trail, we saw a family of affectionate and, at times, fornicating baboons. The guides barely gave them a second look. Chimps were much more rare and difficult to spot, so we quickly dismissed the others.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRVZ1SHcr9vjKyxOzCPVsQsCpfmoX5OG2jN8VaEQo-c6Ukn5uy4bzvm59ID5j9tcQ_W8fccCcJdEarY9-oooToF-LbiVKbTiV9GnoqdEkhkWaGugnYMJ0IMBtmI4LH3UGaWuDoOVU2WFa/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRVZ1SHcr9vjKyxOzCPVsQsCpfmoX5OG2jN8VaEQo-c6Ukn5uy4bzvm59ID5j9tcQ_W8fccCcJdEarY9-oooToF-LbiVKbTiV9GnoqdEkhkWaGugnYMJ0IMBtmI4LH3UGaWuDoOVU2WFa/" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous mountain monkey</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pbFRMKxB9WkrDhDB2NaJeik_Ciut83UGQIZS5QqjkX83DwHuQxjJzIq8jJTt-EfVdmdOAufyzZ4qoVeZcPwBCIQRgn4nP7mCs2Lo0yScNnec5ZZ32XiMXp4lz0EDw68-qfFQ-0-GK4hS/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pbFRMKxB9WkrDhDB2NaJeik_Ciut83UGQIZS5QqjkX83DwHuQxjJzIq8jJTt-EfVdmdOAufyzZ4qoVeZcPwBCIQRgn4nP7mCs2Lo0yScNnec5ZZ32XiMXp4lz0EDw68-qfFQ-0-GK4hS/" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baboon and baby</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Byr1Rr_vYW8" width="320" youtube-src-id="Byr1Rr_vYW8"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />That was NOT me talking.</div><br />We returned to the hotel exhausted, and had some juicy rest before setting off for another part of the country to see (hopefully!) the gorillas. <p></p><p>Driving in Rwanda is a fascinating experience. No matter how remote or rural the road, a) there are people walking on it, and b) it is spotless. Rwanda is really, impressively, clean. There were people hired by the government to pull up the small plants between sidewalk bricks, and literally sweeping the side of the road with tree branches. All of this was happening in cities but also in the middle of nowhere. </p><p>There were also people showing incredible ingenuity when it came to transporting their goods. Single bicycles were used to move not only multiple people, but also 25 foot plant stalks, dozens of bricks (yes, BRICKS), massive crops, and more. This is made all the more impressive because Rwanda is known as "the land of a thousand hills," and people were often pushing the bikes instead of riding them because the hills were so steep. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tZAP3o65m0w" width="320" youtube-src-id="tZAP3o65m0w"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Driving with Innocent, our guide.</div><p></p><p>We made it to the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volcanoes_National_Park" target="_blank">gorilla forest</a>, and were quickly furnished with new guides and walking sticks. Look how amazing:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZhKQJGUx55YRIgNmaqFNHdTLmenP00K6ZdKbAKk_W3vY_IPqOV6UNHg6t4LU5MddZgRmW1TD9gGYlCSAtE-CXsv4DdLzI5cIG26gAN4AmPUWSkC2bIZaOrbKzfLMd1iYeJwiUpP-CETT/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZhKQJGUx55YRIgNmaqFNHdTLmenP00K6ZdKbAKk_W3vY_IPqOV6UNHg6t4LU5MddZgRmW1TD9gGYlCSAtE-CXsv4DdLzI5cIG26gAN4AmPUWSkC2bIZaOrbKzfLMd1iYeJwiUpP-CETT/" width="180" /></a></div><br /><br />This time we didn't have to wait or hike for 7 hours - after only an hour or so our trackers had found a gorilla family. It included a small baby that I can only assume triggered a primal/primate response in me, because I have never wanted to hold anything so badly. Like imagine a perfectly rotund, furry yet hefty little ball of mischief with long arms. It probably weighed 200 pounds but still. <p></p><p><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CYrWHh-lZBe/" target="_blank">Gorilla footage, featuring baby doing a flip*!</a></p><p>*"Doing" is perhaps a strong word.</p><p>All in all, we were exhausted but thrilled after our trip to Rwanda, and judging by my labored breathing throughout the enterprise our acclimation goals appear to have been addressed. We can strongly recommend <a href="https://www.adventureugandasafari.com/" target="_blank">AA Safari Tours</a> there (we did the 4 day Gorilla and Golden Monkey tour plus Chimps); Innocent in particular was a great driver and guide. </p><p>After that, it was time to approach Kilimanjaro...</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-32274952951999754322021-09-13T14:34:00.003-07:002021-09-13T14:34:39.923-07:00What to expect if you're traveling to the Baltic states during COVID (Aug 2021): Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, plus Finland<p> I got back from visiting Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, and Finland last month. Traveling during Covid brought some huge benefits and also plenty of anxiety. Here's what happened:</p><p><b>Tour company</b></p><p>In true solo traveler fashion, I was going on this trip to explore and learn, and that is really done best when someone is guiding you. I picked <a href="https://www.tourradar.com/t/202947" target="_blank">this tour</a> from Tour Radar, which I thought was the actual tour company, but no: they are the online presence for Click Tours, which in itself was representing the actual tour company, which is Baltic Vision. While it's not comforting to realize mid-trip that you were dealing with what is essentially a shell company, I can report that everything on the administrative side went very smoothly! I spoke with other people on the tour who had booked directly with Baltic Vision, and they said the prices they paid were comparable to what I had paid, so... ok I guess?</p><p><b>The transportation to and from that part of the world during Covid:</b></p><p>There are no airlines that fly directly from the US to Lithuania, the start point of the tour. Despite my hatred for Lufthansa (for not refunding tickets in Fall 2020, a problem that <a href="https://www.bostonglobe.com/2021/03/24/lifestyle/help-lufthansa-canceled-our-tickets-kept-our-money/">many others had</a> as well but in a classic capitalistic multi-billion dollar company move, they <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/business/2020/may/26/lufthansa-9bn-bailout-german-government-coronavirus-flights">took a $9 billion bailout</a> and didn't refund customers and that's just how they addressed that issue), that was the only airline that got me to Vilnius in the time frame I needed.</p><p>Me in 2020: I will NEVER fly Lufthansa again, repulsive greedy jerks.</p><p>Me buying tickets for this trip in 2021: Oh hiiiii Lufthansa... repulsive greedy jerks.</p><p>Since it's Lufthansa, you have to go through Munich, and Germany requires a negative Covid test to enter, even for a brief layover and even if you're vaccinated. I had to show both the test results and the vaccination card in order to get my boarding pass in Boston, but from there everything was fine. Also: Germany does not allow cloth masks! Make sure to bring plenty of N-95 or surgical style masks. In order to be served at the German restaurants, even in the airport, you need to show an employee your negative test.</p><p>General/non-Covid advice: max out on the museums. While the KGB museums are very disturbing and overwhelming (especially if you go to them in each of the capitals - tripling your dose), it's important information about which I had essentially no clue. These countries have a very intense, violent, and <b>recent</b> history that affects everyone who grew up there. There are large Russian populations in each country which lead to some tense encounters given the relatively recent KGB slaughters. There are quite a few articles on this phenomenon; <a href="https://www.fpri.org/article/2020/12/russian-encroachment-in-the-baltics-the-role-of-russian-media-and-military-2/" target="_blank">this</a> is the one I found most in line with the vibe I got there.</p><p>Covid advice:</p><p><b>The countries</b></p><p><b>Lithuania:</b> Arrival country! I got there the night before the tour started, to avoid any issues that could crop up given the extra Covid requirements. While you can enter Lithuania without a test, Latvia DOES require one for entry, so I knew I would have to get testing in Lithuania in order to cross into Latvia a few days later. I picked the testing center at the airport so I could just go straight there on arrival and not have to worry about finding a testing center somewhere in the city. I made an appointment when I was still in the states <a href="https://www.kraujolaboratorija.lt/en/covid-testing-in-airport/" target="_blank">online</a> and was able to just leave the airport and walk for 30 seconds to get to the testing center. I showed my ID and paid at the first window (75 euros for non-rushed results - ouch!) then rounded the corner and took the test, which seemed much more invasive than my U.S. test. They scraped allllll the way down my nose and waaaaay down my throat. Ouch again! There was a line of about 10 people and the whole process took about 35-40 minutes, so plan accordingly. From the airport/test center it was very easy to catch a very cheap bus to the city center and walk from there to my hotel. BUT you can't just pay for your bus ticket via kiosk or driver. You <b>have</b> to buy it with an app, which I wish I had known before leaving - but the airport has wifi so it worked out ok. Downloading the <a href="https://apps.apple.com/us/app/trafi/id791973944">app</a> and inputting all your data is a pain when you just want a ticket, but if you enter your credit card info on the app the first bus ride is free, so I actually never paid any money for a substantial bus ride. Got to my hotel and passed out, ready for meeting my tour the next day!</p><p><b>Latvia</b>: the strictest about Covid among the three Baltic states. Finland also required a negative test but the rapid test was ok there, Latvia required PCR. Your results (from the test taken in Lithuania) are sent to your email, and you get a digital QR code that various entities ask for. As we crossed the border from Lithuania to Latvia in our tour van, our guide told us that most people never notice the border - you just drive past an empty guard building and go on your way. But our van was stopped (!), and a police officer boarded and asked for documents. We assumed he meant Covid tests, but he actually wanted to see passports. Depressingly, <a href="https://www.ipsnews.net/2021/09/belarus-crackdown-leaves-human-rights-minorities-exposed/" target="_blank">the situation in Belarus</a> has gotten so severe that Belarusians are trying to "illegally" cross into the Baltic states, so the officer was making sure none of us were on the run. Our guide was absolutely shocked - she had never been stopped at the border in all her years of the tour. So no one ended up checking that Covid test, but I was definitely glad to have it just in case.</p><p><b>Estonia</b>: no test needed. Masks were not even required indoors, and vaccination cards were not checked. Again, I entered Estonia via land border, so with a direct flight it may be more complicated. I still wore my mask because I had more travel coming up and didn't want to risk it, I was definitely not the only one masked.</p><p><b>Finland</b>: vaccination and test needed. As long as you book in advance (I booked when I was in Estonia), you can take a rapid test at the Estonia ferry building on your way to the ferry ride between Tallinn and Helsinki, and have your results in 1-2 hours. Just an FYI for regular readers who want interesting tidbits: Finland has the highest number of saunas per capita, averaging about one per household, but their sauna obsession does not stop there. Our guide pointed out a distant ferris wheel in the city center, and asked if we noticed that two of the cabins on the wheel were a different color than the rest (they were!). "Those are saunas," she said. THERE WERE MULTIPLE SAUNAS ON A SINGLE FERRIS WHEEL. I figured it must be an oddity for the benefit of tourists, but I never would have known if it hadn't been spelled out to me. They just really like saunas, man.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dweulwl0UtE8YsKr8cDtqDfq37KalaurMFAkRR-m8grvF91axKH94_5cfzDgMSN4g0mtZ0d7PRwJPFiR7Wghw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p>Anyway, disclaimer that this information was accurate in early August 2021. All told, I would definitely do it again - despite the added unknown variables and discomfort of testing, I'm thrilled I got to leave the states for the first time since March 2020. I hope you get to go wherever you want to go!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-55940476171633319932019-08-30T09:47:00.002-07:002021-03-15T09:21:16.512-07:00Small town Poland<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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While I did visit Warsaw one <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/search/label/Poland" target="_blank">ill-fated</a> night in 2013, I had never really seen much of Poland. When a paper I wrote was accepted for a conference that was to be held in Poznan, I booked a ticket. My school was not contributing to this in any way, so it was back to my solo/budget-travel days!</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, it is not feasible to do day trips to Auschwitz (see below).<br /> </td></tr></tbody></table></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c6/13/d8/c613d80278880fa451c67f873d417f6a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="683" height="309" src="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c6/13/d8/c613d80278880fa451c67f873d417f6a.jpg" title="So much for taking a day trip by train to explore the country!" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much for taking a day trip by train to explore the country!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />
I booked a room close to the conference venue, which actually was not a great idea. I thought I would save time by walking to conference instead of buying public transit tickets every day (which would add up over 6 days!), but the conference was held on an enormous college campus that has its own zip code. As fate would have it, my room right "next to" the venue was actually a 40 minute walk away. I still walked, because taking the bus from where I was would actually take <i>more</i> time. To add insult to injury, the first day of the conference they gave everyone free public transit passes, allowing for a 15-minute journey from the town center to the conference on a fast tram. Oh well!<br />
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My walks to and from the venue were actually very interesting. In order to explain, though, I need to back up to when I first arrived, hauling my conference-ready backpack, rolling luggage, and purse. I had pre-routed the trip from the airport on my phone so I could use it without wifi. So off I went, transferring buses and trams four times (!), and eventually getting to this one street.<br />
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I was quite tired by this point, so I thought I was hallucinating when my directions told me to turn right. There was no road there. Here is what was there:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Turn right."</td></tr>
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So obviously I keep going straight. The walk portion (after the multi-hour airport transit portion) turned into a 1.5 hour stroll with my luggage in the raging heat. I eventually found the place and had a sit down with my phone and a wifi connection so as to get answers.<br />
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It turns out that WAS the right way. A sandy, meandering path through a pasture. This seemed absolutely outrageous at the time but now I've embraced it. It's actually one of the more "developed" "roads" that I take to the conference. All the other professors and intellectual researchers seem to drive or take the tram, but not me! I come bungling out of the undergrowth, hunchbacked and with bits of twig and leaves stuck to me, ready to take Academia by storm.<br />
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I went through quite an evolution in mental processes as I walked to the conference each day. I had 40 minutes each way so plenty of time to reflect.<br />
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Me on Day 1: <i>What in the absolute **** is going on? Who did this? Who made this city this way? It's not ok.</i><br />
Me on Day 2: <i>It's actually kind of cool! It's like hiking every day, except you go to work in between hikes. You know, we could all use this in our lives. </i>(Increasingly sanctimonious)<i> It's time we get back to nature, dammit. We can't thrive in concrete.</i><br />
Me on Day 3: <i>Ok who would ever hike to work? Like... I am transporting a laptop right now. And I'm wearing stylish work flats. </i><br />
Me on Day 4: <i>Eeeee look at that adorable woodland creature!</i><br />
Twigs: <i>Guys don't forget to cover the entire head. </i><br />
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While the outskirts are decidedly rural, downtown Poznan is happening. All you could ever want to know about it is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pozna%C5%84_Old_Town" target="_blank">here</a>. Personal trip pics on my <a href="https://www.instagram.com/manda_goes/" target="_blank">Insta</a>.<br />
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I went on 3 different walking tours and had a ball; two were in the evening but one was in the morning so I ducked out of the conference to go on it. Once I was with the tour group I noticed one other lady (among the dozen participants) who also seemed to be on her own. I sidled up to her and asked if she was solo traveling. She replied, "Oh no, I came here with my husband. He's presenting at a conference." Ha! The very conference I was supposed to be attending! I'm sure she was impressed by my rebellious tour attendance, but she managed not to show it.<br />
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Tomorrow I have one last tour, then it's off to Copenhagen before heading home and going back to school a few hours later. But for now, it's time for tea and dinner while watching the sunset!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"End of a dirt road" kind of views.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQkgAl5YF5kwzw2dcXHZ9JabrIVlIlJJ6hBku5M-qz27D3KACmIJZAOGU6lxDgn8zIEQ70-M72vQQtN5ZHKdXm-lDvaNtb5L2ps7ZtZsZCmy2aquhIWXQbkNBUoO9STs7rNgfiWshjItk/s1600/IMG_0333.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQkgAl5YF5kwzw2dcXHZ9JabrIVlIlJJ6hBku5M-qz27D3KACmIJZAOGU6lxDgn8zIEQ70-M72vQQtN5ZHKdXm-lDvaNtb5L2ps7ZtZsZCmy2aquhIWXQbkNBUoO9STs7rNgfiWshjItk/s320/IMG_0333.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bucolic breakfasts.</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-11978998715452583312019-01-20T15:52:00.005-08:002019-01-21T09:16:31.602-08:00Victoria Falls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our last few days of travel were dedicated to discovering Victoria Falls and the various national parks found in the area. The falls form a natural border between Zimbabwe and Zambia; Botswana and Namibia are close enough for day trips. </span><br />
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Visas</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">First and foremost, you need the right visa. We flew into Livingston airport in Zambia, and the immigration counter workers who sort you out as soon as you land make it easy to get the right one - they ask you where you plan to go and give you the appropriate visa. Otherwise, you can ask for the right one by name: the <a href="https://www.zambiaimmigration.gov.zm/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=56:kaza-visa" target="_blank">KAZA visa</a> allows for (much needed) unlimited crossings between Zimbabwe and Zambia within 30 days and even grants you access to Botswana as long as you don't spend the night there. The visa costs $50 per person, and lucky for us the immigration employees were taking credit cards that day... but apparently that cannot be banked upon. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZCzg6pDPBOVE9UBIKlBP88yd8A1-jCi2Sn6KSB2eePDAHTd8Ji2TPGf001ELsyeYuUXfPuFZPN7T0QoeRMf_j-qWLwmz4Ic0iYyTiIh3wxmWUC4A6PdPxno7VUIO1uPyETXgITztZ11l/s1600/IMG_9109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZCzg6pDPBOVE9UBIKlBP88yd8A1-jCi2Sn6KSB2eePDAHTd8Ji2TPGf001ELsyeYuUXfPuFZPN7T0QoeRMf_j-qWLwmz4Ic0iYyTiIh3wxmWUC4A6PdPxno7VUIO1uPyETXgITztZ11l/s320/IMG_9109.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got our money's worth out of the Kaza visa!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Money</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Zimbabwe, as we all know, has had a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperinflation_in_Zimbabwe" target="_blank">horrible experience</a> with money value resulting in about <i>80 billion percent</i> inflation. After hanging on and printing bills of increasing size (you can purchase billion dollar bills from desperate locals for a few American dollars), the government gave up and started the process of switching their currency to USD. However, the ATMs in the country still spit out another local currency, "kwacha," with an exchange rate of about 12 kwacha to 1 US dollar. Why? Our guess was that the currency exchange bureaus are significant job providers in the country, so fully moving to USD was out of the question.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, US cash is in extremely high demand. Credit card machines were often "offline." At the Livingstone airport on our way back home, we were forced to sit in a cafe because all the other airport seating was reserved for those boarding imminent flights (wth?). We had already done the ATM > Kwacha > USD process multiple times as we ran out of cash (guess who overpaid for tipping and souvenirs again...😏) and had almost no US cash left, but there was a credit card reader on the counter of the cafe, so when the waiter looked at us expectantly we ordered $7 worth of drinks with confidence. When the bill came, the waiter said the credit card machine was broken, could we pay cash? I showed my empty wallet and the 3 single dollar bills I had. That's when something very strange happened:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The waiter said he could take the $3 cash and charge the remaining $4. Sure that I had misunderstood, I said, "So we can charge $4 but not $7?" The waiter said yes. I'm not proud to admit it, but I laughed in his face. "You have to admit that's insane," I said. He did not admit it. He took our $3 and charged the rest. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Shops (even somewhat reputable shops like those in hotels and shopping centers) would say their readers weren't working. Normally we would refuse to pay cash and leave. Luckily, when we would come back a bit later, the machines were magically working. So on one hand, this is very sneaky and honestly quite silly. On the other, it's not that hard to bring American cash, especially if you are well informed of this phenomenon before you go (lucky you!). </span><br />
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Getting around, staying around</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Keep your camera ready, the border towns are absolutely crawling with baboons and warthogs! They were navigating traffic rather expertly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We stayed at a <a href="https://www.africaalbidatourism.com/where-to-stay/victoria-falls-safari-lodge/" target="_blank">ridiculously well appointed lodge</a> in Zimbabwe, which meant that even getting from the airport to the hotel required crossing a country border. We were often asked to give our passports to drivers we had just met so they could handle some of the visa formalities for us, so we got used to that early. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mike insisted on this particular lodge because the bar there won Heineken's "best bar in the world" award. Upon further research, I have concluded that that is not actually true, but it is indeed said to be <a href="https://www.africaalbidatourism.com/things-to-do/bar-dining/buffalo-bar/" target="_blank">"one of" the best bars</a> in the world. They can help you organize all of your excursions and day trips and are a great, comfortable base from which to explore. These lodges charge rates that absolutely dwarf regular pay scales in the region - starting around $200 per night. But here instead of a parking lot view and a shoebox like a similarly priced room in Boston would be, you have an unimpeded view of a beautiful savannah and watering hole. We saw lots of impala and monkeys right from the hotel. To be honest, though, the monkeys were seen mostly on the breakfast buffet table and not at the watering hole! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTtdJH2laRjju4tY1JaKqYVxucuRhAGY5i7nq6zRh2Ft6yYu44GLQKxRyPNX5pgE9enpRhVFCvjsa0fdFSCo94g1z4D8C2OHzE1l7LavDw2NcDvxLyR65X96_i5r4kBXFb5wbtI4xaeFE/s1600/IMG_9053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTtdJH2laRjju4tY1JaKqYVxucuRhAGY5i7nq6zRh2Ft6yYu44GLQKxRyPNX5pgE9enpRhVFCvjsa0fdFSCo94g1z4D8C2OHzE1l7LavDw2NcDvxLyR65X96_i5r4kBXFb5wbtI4xaeFE/s320/IMG_9053.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sunsets and scoliosis, a winning combo.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We booked an effortless day trip to Botswana, with full day game drives (morning by boat and afternoon by jeep-type-vehicle). We saw hundreds of elephants, along with lots of hippos, a couple of young quarrelsome giraffes, and (a lucky encounter) female lions with cubs, along with tons of other "lesser" fauna (water bucks, eagles, antelope, etc.).<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fR-20sY5E4AoJm6hX-424O55n-24fztafTgWrFCdy6GRrkFv3nxh6l6qKC7hpWI88AVzOzLysmmCEVtLBZPHxbzc4ANaNcT6MAjHp7Vs4XkHgIXoWHp-HkP1Qx7iDIYWEKNdv-gMelQN/s1600/IMG_8819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fR-20sY5E4AoJm6hX-424O55n-24fztafTgWrFCdy6GRrkFv3nxh6l6qKC7hpWI88AVzOzLysmmCEVtLBZPHxbzc4ANaNcT6MAjHp7Vs4XkHgIXoWHp-HkP1Qx7iDIYWEKNdv-gMelQN/s640/IMG_8819.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We narrowly avoided the downpour in this photo.</td></tr>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">How to go to Devil's Pool to hang off the edge of Victoria Falls</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">First, why would you ever do this. It is terrifying.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Let's be honest, though, it's also quite a rush. Here's what you need to know:</span><br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Only one company can get you there. <a href="https://tongabezi.com/experience/livingstone-island" target="_blank">Tongabezi</a> has a monopoly on these tours, and they all leave from the same place - The Royal Livingstone hotel. This hotel is as gorgeous as the other full price lodges, but this one has another point in the "pro" column - there are giraffes and zebras <i>inside</i> the property gates. We happened upon a giraffe on the way out and it was insanely close!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZo_lXeXxTd1dmuD1LK_rH6EW9dW378tXA5Ptj_BqMzmieiysStzca87Yzl9wjBxVMX90-E_HmkRMGARnfHXoX3deZaRomQ6RsbTVxSC1hoiUiECBQkp_2BLDBfnFNj15T2sZ6CHXFVeA4/s1600/IMG_9058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZo_lXeXxTd1dmuD1LK_rH6EW9dW378tXA5Ptj_BqMzmieiysStzca87Yzl9wjBxVMX90-E_HmkRMGARnfHXoX3deZaRomQ6RsbTVxSC1hoiUiECBQkp_2BLDBfnFNj15T2sZ6CHXFVeA4/s320/IMG_9058.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus giraffe!</td></tr>
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</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">It is on the Zambia side. Leave time for border crossing and arrange for pick up and drop off, but don't go through Tongabezi for this. They were horrible with the pickup/dropoff. Like, the car that took us the few miles to the hotel broke down and we had to wait for another one. And it awkwardly stopped near tourists who were waiting for a taxi, and the driver didn't clear up the confusion very well, so they almost got in with us. In hindsight this is funny, but we were worried about getting there in time to pay (see #3) and the humor was lost on us.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"> Book in advance. We hadn't, so we tried to book as soon as we arrived in Zimbabwe... we were lucky and snagged some space on a tour that left 2 days later (the tours within 48 hours were all booked). However, their online payment system was broken, and when we showed up ready to pay, their credit card machine was broken (ha!) and they asked us to go to the ATM to pay the ticket cost ($175 each, totally worth it) in cash. We politely refused and said we would wait until the credit card machine started working again, and wouldn't you know it, it did!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">You will have to swim. As in, fully submerged in water. They supply towels to dry off afterward, but the ick-resistant among you will want to bring a full change of clothes. The current of water heading toward the falls gets quite strong (duh) and it is too deep to touch the bottom for about a minute - if you are not fairly confident in your swimming abilities, this is not the excursion for you.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">You will want shoes. I wore my aforementioned awesome shoes and did great, but everyone else had to take their shoes off (flip flops wouldn't stay on, sneakers couldn't get wet) and they had to deal with jagged rocks and hot hot hot sand and rocks.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">You will be handled. The guides tell you exactly what to do and where to go. They go in the pool with you to make sure you don't do any buffoonery and kill yourself. For the "hang over the side pic," they are holding your feet (kind of necessary; there is a current and that ledge is slimy/slippery).<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFYWPLuVkHHXvqkIzsXS6vhYenPUS-G5dVS4yREdMSp1uIv19bhn1-iyrIePgBvRjPwHzho8txEzL7GXTLPW-ruZk2nxhHwBCDvjNMiaPy7kKH1BT9nxq5x1tY8INE4xcM1fiF2iHsXCo/s1600/IMG_8882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFYWPLuVkHHXvqkIzsXS6vhYenPUS-G5dVS4yREdMSp1uIv19bhn1-iyrIePgBvRjPwHzho8txEzL7GXTLPW-ruZk2nxhHwBCDvjNMiaPy7kKH1BT9nxq5x1tY8INE4xcM1fiF2iHsXCo/s320/IMG_8882.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guide has perfected his poses over the years!</td></tr>
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</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Don't worry about pics. We had bought waterproof cases for our phones so we wouldn't risk them getting wet while we took pics, but we handed my phone off to a guide who promptly took it out of the case and handled it with expert care on the way to the pool. He literally took several hundred pictures for us. He told us all the poses to do and directed us to move various body parts if they were in shadow/misplaced. This guy was walking barefoot on the aforementioned slimy ledge to get these pictures, about 2 inches away from certain death. Now you see why we were fine paying $175 for this.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjua8NykBigW4KZ1HFuiYYkJF18sed99-iAaDWwpC-2z4WU389Qzw602Cqj6B9X_A1pecc7pQuqzWfa8ydm6EbDI1nC1-wQvDKaNq8HqPq7Cc7RsQVApY6YUWgxcYrtGCj0TLizK1vaXSeW/s1600/IMG_9021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjua8NykBigW4KZ1HFuiYYkJF18sed99-iAaDWwpC-2z4WU389Qzw602Cqj6B9X_A1pecc7pQuqzWfa8ydm6EbDI1nC1-wQvDKaNq8HqPq7Cc7RsQVApY6YUWgxcYrtGCj0TLizK1vaXSeW/s320/IMG_9021.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The moment where I said "I think that's quite enough thank you!"</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Food is included. After the swim back to Livingstone island, depending on the type of tour you booked, you get refreshments. We went on the lunch tour and it was a big, filling lunch with booze included.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">The process goes like this: hotel to boat, boat to island, island walking tour with epic views, island to water (passing the food prep place where you can let them know of dietary restrictions, they accommodated everything), water to deep swim, deep swim to pool. You will probably go in a group of 5-8 people (we went with a lovely Australian family). Don't worry, you'll get all the separate pics of just yourselves that you want. The Aussie group was 5 kids, among which were 2 couples, and the guide got photos of </span></li>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">each person individually</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">the entire group</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">the couples</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">just the girls</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">just the guys, etc.</span></li>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Mike and I were just sitting in the pool (out of camera range) this whole time (20 minutes?), with me soberly taking in the experience - the thundering noise, the rushing water - and occasionally screaming "I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOING THIS"</span></li>
</ol>
</ol>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">You don't have to do all of it: the parents in the Australian family didn't want to do the final swim/pool part but they wanted to join in for everything else, and that was fine.</span></li>
</ol>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Which side to stay on?</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There are many lodges right around the Zimbabwe/Zambian border. It would be hard for you to go wrong either way, but you can theoretically minimize your border crossings (we averaged 2 per day which was a bit tedious) by staying on the side you plan to hang out in most.</span><br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-size: large;">There are epic game drives (aka safaris) on both sides.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Devil's pool in Victoria Falls (where you can get pics hanging off the edge) is on the Zambian side. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">The most impressive views of the falls are from the Zimbabwean side <b><i>looking at</i></b> the Zambian side.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Zimbabwe shares a longer border with Botswana (good for day trips)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Zambia shares a longer border with Namibia. We saw Namibia from a boat safari we took but didn't set foot there; it was not included in our visa and none of the hotel sanctioned trips went there. US citizens can get a separate visa upon arrival to Namibia if you'd like to check it out.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are river cruises (dinner and sunset) along the Zambezi from both sides. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Timing</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The falls are heaviest on both sides between March - July.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Devil's pool closes at the end of January (water becomes too strong to safely swim) and opens again in August.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The falls are mostly dry in October - December.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We went in January and it felt like there was plenty of water if you ask me!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">More weather/water info <a href="https://www.victoriafalls-guide.net/victoria-falls-weather.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Final tip: for an extra EXTRA unforgettable trip to the falls, you can go when there might be a <a href="https://www.victoriafalls-guide.net/lunar-rainbow.html" target="_blank">lunar rainbow.</a> This requires not only special timing (a visit during the full moon) but also ideal cloud and spray conditions. Basically, it's like trying to see the northern lights in <a href="https://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2016/11/iceland-lights-and-lagoons.html" target="_blank">Iceland</a>. You can do everything right and still might not see it/them. But it's worth a shot! You're most likely to see it in the months of April-July.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMAGgpL2-2TctmEvDRCIvQ8ferycNODG6scoph14k8keKLXZjfr8q6x9Zy0wU7mSV_ROzwqayNpr-Pz5f-JKO1B44RJHpL2Gatc_GyDQCOM5Zz3wMIZnOkvXeHG4Ud-sxNseLm_3mpi0H/s1600/lunar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="500" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMAGgpL2-2TctmEvDRCIvQ8ferycNODG6scoph14k8keKLXZjfr8q6x9Zy0wU7mSV_ROzwqayNpr-Pz5f-JKO1B44RJHpL2Gatc_GyDQCOM5Zz3wMIZnOkvXeHG4Ud-sxNseLm_3mpi0H/s640/lunar.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">not my pic, but cool huh?</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-15777177382234279472019-01-17T18:27:00.000-08:002019-01-21T08:45:22.664-08:00Madagascar<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">While Madagascar is known for pristine coastlines and tropical beaches, it also has some incredible flora and fauna in the central regions. We stayed several days in the capital, Antananarivo (known by locals as "Tana"), and also had an overnight tour to Ampefy. Since we had plenty of beach time (and fresh sunburns) from Réunion, this focus suited us well. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">This drive is included in the tour we booked, it took about 3 hours total.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8tsgWFviByLgBtJ-ej00IjlYMnDwafg9v9HrqWPv5iDh2nvgbxBx7oQxmZse3vmN8jfcF-CsLzf2cCKspH73Fu_0cBND3QQMAiAl3gu4-6ew1NpLZj_CY1L7kWaCLbOc-0ke4KK44UD7/s1600/Screen+Shot+2019-01-17+at+11.47.14+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8tsgWFviByLgBtJ-ej00IjlYMnDwafg9v9HrqWPv5iDh2nvgbxBx7oQxmZse3vmN8jfcF-CsLzf2cCKspH73Fu_0cBND3QQMAiAl3gu4-6ew1NpLZj_CY1L7kWaCLbOc-0ke4KK44UD7/s320/Screen+Shot+2019-01-17+at+11.47.14+AM.png" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some perspective for you.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As a French teacher, I am embarrassed to report that Malagasy people speak French and I was not previously aware of that. The indigenous Malagasy <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malagasy_language" target="_blank">language</a> is a fascinating blend of Indonesian, Arabic and other ancient languages, and our guide pointed out that it is one of the only African languages that does not have origins in Swahili. I noticed that the locals looked a little more ethnically ambiguous than mainland Africans: there were clear Indian and Polynesian facial features present.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>*<u>Important</u>*</b> - very, very few people living and working in Madagascar speak English. You cannot count on guides or even hotel staff speaking English. Bring someone with you who speaks French and doesn't mind translating. My services are available in exchange for a fully paid vacation to Madagascar 😜. Also, you will need a guide, no ifs ands or buts about it. Madagascar is rather wild compared to other places, and you certainly won't be stumbling upon random pubs in a well lit, secure neighborhood when you're there. Even in the capital, the sidewalks are about 6 inches wide and the bars/shops are not for tourists. Here's a bit of footage driving through Tana (and assuring Russell, the best guide ever, that Mike didn't think he was rude for speaking French). Russell reeeeeally wanted to speak English but said he couldn't figure it out. He even joked (I <i>think</i> he was joking) that he wished the English had colonized Madagascar instead of the French so he could speak English!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I did a double take when I saw this girl in a "Don't mess with Texas" shirt!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Antanarivo is a crazy place. There is one main road, with one lane in each direction, going through the capital to other major cities in the country. By some miracle we glided by on our way to Ampefy, but on the way back we suffered an extra hour and a half on it. Make sure you give yourself plenty of time to be at any meeting spot you may need for flights or tours. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We stayed at the Asia and Africa hotel in Tana. At the time I booked it I didn't think much of it, but the "Asia" is not just in the title - it was Chinese through and through, from the decor to the food. Our guide later explained that China is "invading" (his word) Madagascar, snapping up land parcels and developing the heck out of them. I asked our guide how locals felt about this, and his answer was pretty sobering: "We're used to it." As I mentioned in my Reunion post, many African countries have long, violent histories with western colonization and exploitation of resources. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On all of our combined road trips, we saw hundreds of thousands of acres of fields being actively cultivated. This is all, and I mean ALL, rice. I was surprised because I was expecting lots of vanilla fields, but it turns out these are very concentrated in the northwestern part of the country. Luckily I was still able to buy some divine vanilla. My tip for you when purchasing vanilla is to resist the urge to buy the vacuum-packed beans themselves and just go with a bottle of the extract - they're small enough to take in your carry-on, and honestly, do YOU know what to do with the actual bean? No, you don't. Plus they are similar in price (not cheap).</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I didn't take this pic, it's from https://www.madacamp.com/Madagascar_Vanilla</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The vanilla extract I bought, about $7 USD for a tiny vial. Did you know that 95% of the vanilla products sold worldwide contain artificial vanilla? This is the real deal, despite the dubious peeling label.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I bought that vanilla in Tana, but there are not many places to buy souvenirs. On one hand, it's charming - the towns are made for locals with no "made in China" keychains or shot glasses. On the other hand, the place to buy artisan crafts is literally a shanty town that is set up in the middle of a muddy field. Your guide will know how to get there - it would be extremely difficult to navigate to on your own. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We booked <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/AttractionProductDetail-g293809-d12469963-2_Day_Private_Tour_to_Ampefy_from_Antananarivo-Antananarivo_Antananarivo_Province.html" target="_blank">this tour</a> to Ampefy. It had everything I wanted: a trip to the lemur park, an overnight stay in nice hotel in a country town, and a driver to get us everywhere. For some reason the main element emphasized in the ad for the tour is a geyser - I admit, the geysers were cool - but come on! Lemurs!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The lemur park is about an hour outside of Tana, and is a nice way to break up the 2.5 hour drive to Ampefy (it's on the way!). You get to see 7 out of the 9 species of lemur. Some are more shy than others, but they are all quite visible: the park staff feed them regularly, so they aren't scared of humans. That combined with the natural "fence" of a river (lemurs are so scared of water that they hydrate themselves by eating plants) keeps the lemurs in a concentrated area to ensure high likelihoods of sightings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">These are Coquerel Sifaka - they are jumpers. Other Sifaka are known as "dancers" because they only move sideways (</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8jqqkSzNgo" style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;" target="_blank">adorable video showing this</a><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">) instead of straight because of their hip bones that did not evolve for forward motion.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I can die happy.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">From the lemur park, we got back on the road and made it to Ampefy. We stayed in a lovely eco-hotel in the middle of nowhere with birds chirping like crazy (and I think I even saw a monkey in a tree there, but I didn't have my glasses on). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next morning, our tour continued in remote central Madagascar with the <a href="https://www.madacamp.com/Lily_Waterfall" target="_blank">Lily Waterfall</a> and some geysers. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Geyser</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Getting some clay "tattoos" from village girls</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Madagascar is known as "the Red Island" for the high concentrations of iron in the soil which give it a distinct red tint. Here is a scene from rural Ampefy.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />The waterfall was meh and the geysers were cool, but the most memorable part of this portion was buying souvenirs. Little girls swarm you as soon as you leave the car with things they have made out of pumice stone (Madagascar is full of now-dormant volcanoes that spewed lava everywhere, which solidified into pumice) and older villagers offer to hold your stuff and take pictures for you. We "hired" a comical number of porters but were too soft not to buy at least one piece of "artwork" from each child. They split between me and Mike to showcase their wares. I explained that I would buy the smallest toy from each girl and bargained them down to a slightly less obscene price than what they were asking (a few American dollars per stone, an absolute fortune by local standards). After a tumultuous few minutes I pay and turn back to Mike. He has both arms stuffed with huge pieces that we would never be able to take home with us and says, "Ok. I need $50." Some of the girls I had purchased from deftly moved over to his side and sold second and third articles to him over my laughing objections.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We ended up engaging the services of several more porters to bring all the souvenirs to the car 😂 and leaving several pieces at our hotel as patio decor. But we were thrilled to have provided an influx of cash to locals since we were getting so much from their country. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The lucky few that made it home</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We came back (through traffic!) to Tana a bit overwhelmed. The animals, the people, the poverty... it's a lot to take in. But Madagascar is absolutely stunning and worthy of a visit. As for us, we eventually had to get going - Victoria Falls was waiting!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Other details:</span><br />
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<li>Malaria: You will need a hefty dose of malaria pills and heavy duty (read: DEET) bug spray. There is a <a href="https://www.iamat.org/country/madagascar/risk/malaria" target="_blank">high malaria risk</a> in Madagascar. It's worst in the rainy season (December-January when we went, oops). </li>
<li>Money: Bring US dollars, you can easily switch them to the local currency, Ariary, at your hotel. 1 dollar is about 3,500 Ariary. </li>
<li>Tipping is usually about 10% and not common for restaurant staff (we tipped a lot since it was one of the few ways we were actually giving back)</li>
<li>Electrical outlets are like European ones.</li>
<li>For some reason, when we were flying INTO Madagascar, the airline personnel wanted our <b>paper</b> tickets FROM Madagascar to our next destination. We didn't have them printed, so we had to spend an extra hour in the airport at a customer service desk - forwarding our email confirmations to the personal account of the poor employee who got stuck with us who then forwarded it to a computer with a printer. </li>
<li>Also we couldn't have anything metal in our carry on bag. I had to check my tiny travel tweezers. Weird!</li>
</ul>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-13915944417294749822019-01-16T14:19:00.001-08:002019-01-21T08:42:07.198-08:00Reunion Island<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was in high school French class when I learned about the "DOM TOM:" overseas territories of France with various levels of dependence on the French government. There are a lot of them.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5f/France_in_the_World_%28%2BAntarctica_claims%29.svg/1024px-France_in_the_World_%28%2BAntarctica_claims%29.svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="Territory of the French Republic (red) Overseas territories (circled) Claimed territory (Adélie Land; hatched)" border="0" height="200" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5f/France_in_the_World_%28%2BAntarctica_claims%29.svg/1024px-France_in_the_World_%28%2BAntarctica_claims%29.svg.png" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">From Wikipedia</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The DOM TOM are convenient vacation spots for French people. They are usually gorgeous tropical islands, but the malaria risk is very low compared to Madagascar/Africa (no pills needed!). French is usually an official language and some of countries even use the Euro as currency. Google maps works very well and many restaurants and bars have WiFi. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The unspoken tragedy is that France brutally colonized these spaces in the 16-17th centuries - and they are not among the countries who successfully rebelled and gained independence (even those that did were generally not successful until the 1950s - think Algeria, Tunisia, <a href="https://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2013/05/hi-school-year-is-basically-over-and.html" target="_blank">Morocco</a>, Senegal, etc.). Some argue that the strong link to France has saved the DOM TOMs from economic collapse and political tumult that has ravaged other former colonies. I just wonder how <b>all</b> of the former colonies would have done had France kept her grubby mitts to herself and not decimated indigenous populations in the first place. This hypothetical question doesn't compare favorably to the "convenient vacation spot" idea though.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I finally got the chance to visit Reunion Island this winter. Réunion is similar to <a href="https://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2013/01/6-month-report-living-in-france.html" target="_blank">other</a> <a href="https://mandagoes.blogspot.com/search/label/Georgia" target="_blank">destinations</a> in that people generally misunderstand you the first time you say you're going there ("No, not my high school reunion!").</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAzkKL1lP69lc4o3gbbZCsBbrfcU6BU7yjxJI6xJK1MKA8RlVBWlO_CVataZtLcBZ_V48UTwWssfaImhOFtc9kchYWXLL9ycuq684P8dvIPAUswTVuNVRCYA-h3K_ZpTfRdYTTySCAhM-/s1600/Reunion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="763" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAzkKL1lP69lc4o3gbbZCsBbrfcU6BU7yjxJI6xJK1MKA8RlVBWlO_CVataZtLcBZ_V48UTwWssfaImhOFtc9kchYWXLL9ycuq684P8dvIPAUswTVuNVRCYA-h3K_ZpTfRdYTTySCAhM-/s320/Reunion.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Off the east coast of Madagascar, a blip in the Indian ocean, this volcanic island features stunning hikes and turquoise water beaches. More important than all of that, though, is the easy access to lychees.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwleE8lHdPJAaIooMdC9PZxB6Pl_LrO0UF8ukV_UHLuisonVF2_r4gapduizIS9eJAAFR3lJWuV8jGDl27x9Lz3eYxC6uyVeyF7T6Fj0Ym-h6x_Y40e3VLoexQi2XNUTg3fNnVsa_sXDWp/s1600/IMG_7985.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwleE8lHdPJAaIooMdC9PZxB6Pl_LrO0UF8ukV_UHLuisonVF2_r4gapduizIS9eJAAFR3lJWuV8jGDl27x9Lz3eYxC6uyVeyF7T6Fj0Ym-h6x_Y40e3VLoexQi2XNUTg3fNnVsa_sXDWp/s320/IMG_7985.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">car lychees</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgus2KzXGBzOOA0Q_nMJAveZh6iAI7M0UAubZH1jlBK10JiA-NbMaLWSxuCinwK5jiKG4uuFdYKkZN8hjkz-SZIDoJftk9WF7sn7JQBjy6SkEI0oQE5VZ9rjtWZ9HbYIUuUtfSn-5wGxV3U/s1600/IMG_8016.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgus2KzXGBzOOA0Q_nMJAveZh6iAI7M0UAubZH1jlBK10JiA-NbMaLWSxuCinwK5jiKG4uuFdYKkZN8hjkz-SZIDoJftk9WF7sn7JQBjy6SkEI0oQE5VZ9rjtWZ9HbYIUuUtfSn-5wGxV3U/s320/IMG_8016.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">hiking lychees</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcmIybRvSQtR8Iir8ShXOJdXqVrUjK-bE7dodvenkaC5Gyi6tXiIRqlaxA1ZZGaSNbp52DRE49l_K1zU7k6wQagWdaPFBiRIuQ44hZFdCJzWlN4lRsxqWax-DE64-co41IC-AW1LLq3Xu/s1600/IMG_8205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcmIybRvSQtR8Iir8ShXOJdXqVrUjK-bE7dodvenkaC5Gyi6tXiIRqlaxA1ZZGaSNbp52DRE49l_K1zU7k6wQagWdaPFBiRIuQ44hZFdCJzWlN4lRsxqWax-DE64-co41IC-AW1LLq3Xu/s320/IMG_8205.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">roadside lychees: note the regional spelling</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCAs7gfza-V-m0zkUl_njwoZv8GVSxMTXbU0Uh77h1mLevPZdYfIHtVXPiG9C6MhqcyI_BkgMBF4rnSZyuk8nlzTNTi-EM8sQnRkaQE0yQX0u4bgvP3sYbVp9Tci-v2NGda_kJaWXAPED-/s1600/IMG_8206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCAs7gfza-V-m0zkUl_njwoZv8GVSxMTXbU0Uh77h1mLevPZdYfIHtVXPiG9C6MhqcyI_BkgMBF4rnSZyuk8nlzTNTi-EM8sQnRkaQE0yQX0u4bgvP3sYbVp9Tci-v2NGda_kJaWXAPED-/s320/IMG_8206.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beach lychees</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We stayed in St. Gille les Bains, about a 45 minute drive from the airport in the capital of St. Denis. There really is no public transit option for tourists - there are rickety buses but they are few and far between, their schedules don't permit for much freedom in planning activities. It was strongly suggested that we rent a car, and we did. The steering wheels are on the same side as they are in the states (a luxury we were not afforded in the rest of the countries on the trip) and you drive on the right side of the road, so the only driving preparation you need to make is learning stick shift. You can rent an automatic transmission car for about double the price of a manual if you must. The car rental companies were not bashful in charging outrageous rates (see above comment about tourists not having a choice) - we paid about $110 per day for a wisp of a Peugeot with 100k miles on it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I would say the best things to do in Reunion are hiking and beach days. However, we made a <a href="https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/17915439607277794/" target="_blank">harrowing realization</a> on our first beach day that the locals seem to want to sweep under the rug. Literally no one mentioned it. The only indication of the island's deadly past is a relatively innocuous flag:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YWDIeaDQVN9Z9Ga0JiAc_Tnc9opP_O8qKw3x2Kj8ztwW7gkzxPTqoZYhJUtO6-cGSyTkZltWQX84HVy0p5yTg99uDsfs0f2ZbA4TjKYK2ytpnyLKsy6duOr-BQkDbRwG-SAsQdGVOrgv/s1600/IMG_8020.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YWDIeaDQVN9Z9Ga0JiAc_Tnc9opP_O8qKw3x2Kj8ztwW7gkzxPTqoZYhJUtO6-cGSyTkZltWQX84HVy0p5yTg99uDsfs0f2ZbA4TjKYK2ytpnyLKsy6duOr-BQkDbRwG-SAsQdGVOrgv/s320/IMG_8020.HEIC" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mountain views from the water</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPcv6iPx4eVaRLYfKP6b5P7D4xy-Kp00iTeF0KcDBfkaKa8m8srbVwcm8LY8AQDNzHny34bCO2WerSkCuZTQwwxH0T6hpBpDQcx6tM_YW_dre2fXZ4ccv9PON8TlCrreH7jgbN7lcOELW/s1600/IMG_8021.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPcv6iPx4eVaRLYfKP6b5P7D4xy-Kp00iTeF0KcDBfkaKa8m8srbVwcm8LY8AQDNzHny34bCO2WerSkCuZTQwwxH0T6hpBpDQcx6tM_YW_dre2fXZ4ccv9PON8TlCrreH7jgbN7lcOELW/s320/IMG_8021.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">"By raising this flag, we admit that our oceans are infested with bull sharks and people have been left limbless even when swimming in the netted area."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But man, that water is tempting. We got an AirBnB right on the beach and the experience was lovely (though I stop short of recommending that specific airbnb because of sanitary issues inside the unit).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-NWQxaWyjUHVmfudeXO_Oglthyphenhyphen7lgBnzKd3sfr-BS5IhSW4sy2afr0xz08CUACsSr-qJyiYqp8sx5JogK6gCBAF9wBynHgSlLYTGWtR8ETWxYv8zrmv1nLx58eTp_MD4s6vqD0yOH-bm/s1600/IMG_8198.mov" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div>
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Hiking</span></h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">So if you don't feel like risking your life on the beach, hiking is the Reunion activity for you! We focused on Mount Maïdo, since it was the closest mountain to St. Gilles. It takes about an hour to get from the city to a place to park to hike, and the road is almost exclusively comprised of hairpin turns.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-NS7-Ye6fPLnw2N4HMQjTFiQinQAE41fkRgu5OF_V775eI6E0j3mrpa0F_NXyL9ijkuISdXJKwsyfA7xy28A2PzbiprT6pPgPapWSTnWGdwuXbKeYNFRN1xe0m9A3HGvTdzAd06xg2xg/s1600/IMG_8042.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-NS7-Ye6fPLnw2N4HMQjTFiQinQAE41fkRgu5OF_V775eI6E0j3mrpa0F_NXyL9ijkuISdXJKwsyfA7xy28A2PzbiprT6pPgPapWSTnWGdwuXbKeYNFRN1xe0m9A3HGvTdzAd06xg2xg/s320/IMG_8042.PNG" width="180" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">We drove up in the dark to catch the sunrise.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A lot of hiking Maïdo takes place in the clouds. For our first venture, we went in the afternoon and cloud cover was, to put it lightly, complete.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLi8iCc5yhdnDT-SjEwshAJ3vKwOV2a65rHziSlJSoZIVciBk5M4Z3Q6j8HGMeBEq5gUDYfk1AVn9y5sRNNfYGvC-51gf0zgqTlbwEJqFxcdzSt36XRz7FXeYuIVdDFGwzfwHpveQHvCKX/s1600/IMG_8002.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLi8iCc5yhdnDT-SjEwshAJ3vKwOV2a65rHziSlJSoZIVciBk5M4Z3Q6j8HGMeBEq5gUDYfk1AVn9y5sRNNfYGvC-51gf0zgqTlbwEJqFxcdzSt36XRz7FXeYuIVdDFGwzfwHpveQHvCKX/s320/IMG_8002.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hiking apparel rules apply: layers are best.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We got almost to the top (which looked a lot like the way up: cloudy) when Mike spotted a break in the clouds. It was gone in an instant, but the view we momentarily glimpsed was one of stunning, deep ravines far below. Thanks to that lucky, fleeting break, we decided to come up the next morning before the clouds rolled in. It just so happened to be January 1, so we got a great start to 2019:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJDXYRlz_IloxGw7-oleYUN8RvAwiAXQlaBIB-WkNxEb5_ONiZOaoKhqVTAme_LAcisTMW3PUcNizNbfpoEa_vRJbPcswZFm8q0y_SZY2KPpnQ3UHq8R5JyxC7niRZc5918eynp91V3Zx/s1600/IMG_8203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJDXYRlz_IloxGw7-oleYUN8RvAwiAXQlaBIB-WkNxEb5_ONiZOaoKhqVTAme_LAcisTMW3PUcNizNbfpoEa_vRJbPcswZFm8q0y_SZY2KPpnQ3UHq8R5JyxC7niRZc5918eynp91V3Zx/s320/IMG_8203.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sunrise on Mount Maïdo on Reunion Island</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Other sought after, but further away, hikes include Cilaos, Mafate, Piton de la Fournaise, and for the multi-day hikers, les Trois Salazes. We didn't do those but there are plenty of websites that can give you extra info about them if you know what to google (which, now you do!). You should always hike in the morning in Reunion, because clouds come in hard in the afternoon. Also don't forget sunblock - breaks in the clouds at that altitude mean short spurts of very strong light, and we both got burned despite our usual care. Hiking Maïdo up and down from the parking area takes a good afternoon - I'd say about 2.5 hours each way at my leisurely pace.</span><br />
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<h4 style="text-align: left;">
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Le Bassin Cormoran</span></h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">Another "happy accident" location we stumbled upon (we saw people randomly parked on the side of the road and walking down a random trail in swimsuits) is the Cormoran Basin. This is quite a hike, I'd say about 40 minutes of wandering with cave crouching (some people were doing it in flip flops... how?!) that ends at a gorgeous cerulean swimming hole with a little waterfall. With my first advice being "do it," my second most important advice is "wear the right shoes." You want to be equipped for the hike and jagged rocks in the basin, but also be able to swim and not be forced to hike back with wet shoes (or have to pack them - beurk*). I had brought <a href="https://www.dsw.com/en/us/product/teva-terra-float-active-lace-sport-flat/415837" target="_blank">these</a> on the trip with me and loved them, but sadly I didn't have them with me for this little excursion because I had no idea what to expect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Beurk = "yuck" in French</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So we didn't swim much, but it would have been lovely after the sweaty hike!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ88uk1nEl9t0UMWvzegPfGqaEuDUQQFX7Q0gPkCtuUpe5MbtTKcnlWh0Sx3glmsXc0uVWDqtt0BnpuI4-pLefqv7F-Mvzcqav1I8lMgszWETQa92Mr5qHk8ZcBxucATe5UbSJJUHsxg6o/s1600/IMG_8273.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ88uk1nEl9t0UMWvzegPfGqaEuDUQQFX7Q0gPkCtuUpe5MbtTKcnlWh0Sx3glmsXc0uVWDqtt0BnpuI4-pLefqv7F-Mvzcqav1I8lMgszWETQa92Mr5qHk8ZcBxucATe5UbSJJUHsxg6o/s320/IMG_8273.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">There is a trail, but this is generally the type of terrain you hike on.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0D1O5zen9vhT1nKOTYsVMi-3-0rNTOWBHzwqMr5xnfuZTnDb0-BShR41OZ8SEcUMqD5nhRN9m13DG2K2tv31PyLsPY1BRONE00O7Q8wOnmEdYyZ13pYK4SN_mnyyP_t4aJY1IV_Ke6USH/s1600/IMG_8289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0D1O5zen9vhT1nKOTYsVMi-3-0rNTOWBHzwqMr5xnfuZTnDb0-BShR41OZ8SEcUMqD5nhRN9m13DG2K2tv31PyLsPY1BRONE00O7Q8wOnmEdYyZ13pYK4SN_mnyyP_t4aJY1IV_Ke6USH/s320/IMG_8289.JPG" width="256" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is your reward. Find a spot on the crowded bank to throw your stuff and hop in!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fun fact, in finding the link to the <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g298470-d12064572-Reviews-Bassin_Cormoran-Saint_Gilles_Les_Bains_Arrondissement_of_Saint_Paul.html" target="_blank">site for reviews</a> for this place (mostly in French), I <i>just now</i> realized that it is apparently <b>forbidden to go there</b>. Now that I think about it we did duck under a peeled-back fence, but at the time it didn't register as something out of the ordinary. As one reviewer noted (review posted the same time we were there): <span style="background-color: white; color: #4a4a4a; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "bitstream vera sans" , sans-serif;">Comment peut on laisser ouvert un site dangereux mais bien de mettre de panneaux interdit et laisser un passage où tout le monde pénètre.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4a4a4a; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "bitstream vera sans" , sans-serif;">C'est vraiment intolérable. [How can you leave open such a dangerous site, with signs saying no entry, but still leave open an entrypoint where everyone goes through? It's quite intolerable.]</span></span><br />
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<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Weather Notes</span></h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">We went in January and the weather was HOT and glorious. Their winter is from June - September, but even then you can count on an average temperature of about 70 degrees (or should I say 21c, brush up on your metric/celsius conversions!).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We only had 3 full days in Reunion (2 of which were holidays - Monday [blame the French, many things aren't open on Mondays] and New Years day) but we felt pretty fulfilled with the hiking/swimming combos. Throw in a walk around the city center and a break for crêpes, and you've got yourself a lovely little vacay. We didn't have time to linger, because we had to get going to our next destination: Madagascar!</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-14038432638746302192018-11-10T09:49:00.004-08:002022-10-05T08:57:40.348-07:00How to learn, practice, and improve your Spanish - all levels<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">This post is updated periodically! Last update: 9/2020<br /><br />As someone who learned Spanish in high school and actually still speaks and understands it, I wanted to compile a list of resources for friends who want to learn or practice their Spanish. I've divided this list by level, but definitely jump around to find what works for you. I've included my own opinions on each resource, which you are free to ignore.</span><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">Note: you can access a similar entry for French <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2016/07/how-to-learn-practice-and-improve-your_27.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Beginner</b>:</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You need to start at the beginning.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> I'm really picky about YouTube videos that explain grammar. Most of them just have an image of someone's talking face try to explain complex grammar rules. I think that animated videos are much more engaging and clear. <a href="http://lingolearner.com/spanish.html" target="_blank"><b>My own animated video lessons</b></a> to introduce basic grammatical elements in Spanish </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">- watch these until you have them memorized.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtGvX3RPStv_7LZEm9ZiIBlKsIGhyphenhyphentswfpOoQ_4neDj-_qhdvy56VLym9Ug6FqhOUHmJiw_X6pmeHUllR3DoiZxc4ensxYWjO-ZY1f5s6BJjUlQhXh_aFegdB47ljlqPIYpqYdPcjb9Cg/s1600/Globe+332x81.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtGvX3RPStv_7LZEm9ZiIBlKsIGhyphenhyphentswfpOoQ_4neDj-_qhdvy56VLym9Ug6FqhOUHmJiw_X6pmeHUllR3DoiZxc4ensxYWjO-ZY1f5s6BJjUlQhXh_aFegdB47ljlqPIYpqYdPcjb9Cg/s320/Globe+332x81.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Memorize the conjugations of basic verbs, days of the week, basic phrases. You can do this any way you want (flash cards, etc). I suggest listening to these songs to make the basics harder to forget: <b><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/learn-spanish-through-music/487100818" target="_blank">iTunes</a>, </b></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/7mjyVpJyCKs1UNBHtc9rHR" target="_blank">Spotify</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Learn-Spanish-Through-Music-StudyTunes/dp/B006J8C12C/ref=sr_1_4?s=dmusic&ie=UTF8&qid=1541867231&sr=1-4-mp3-albums-bar-strip-0&keywords=learn+spanish+through+music" target="_blank">Amazon</a></b></span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmohnbZzQGBeQ1KVOEte0l2poNIRprjgr9-HIdtJ9TdpkfmKTUqYgwrAJVzblDfaF5l-IBJKX7cAngmsjWjEcEQvkM7QU8NlorCIxsqnyvLKC7c-_UbBIDCjsOmP_7_27jr3-q-26NZqi/s1600/newbannerblank.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="94" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmohnbZzQGBeQ1KVOEte0l2poNIRprjgr9-HIdtJ9TdpkfmKTUqYgwrAJVzblDfaF5l-IBJKX7cAngmsjWjEcEQvkM7QU8NlorCIxsqnyvLKC7c-_UbBIDCjsOmP_7_27jr3-q-26NZqi/s320/newbannerblank.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><a href="https://www.duolingo.com/" target="_blank"><b>Duolingo app</b></a></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> (for smartphones, also has desktop interface) definitely fragmented. Very similar to Rosetta Stone, except it’s free. I recommend this because a) the price is right and b) it’s very portable and feasible for using when you’re waiting in line or on the bus. I don’t recommend this until you have seen at least the first 3 lingolearner videos, just like I don’t recommend RS until you’ve had at least a few weeks of basic instruction.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbrhiKVVcEOqfxeR20Uvy14vW93UW_1rqtiX9fkN0VTB01EON27K1MytsFrOCNkOKloy0lgty9z-R_AelPqScLTulDwUy19KRGNaPVDZVe0qbjJlI0huwxnHkqLlOFVYv0s4LtOj0Mo4g/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-07-27+at+3.19.07+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbrhiKVVcEOqfxeR20Uvy14vW93UW_1rqtiX9fkN0VTB01EON27K1MytsFrOCNkOKloy0lgty9z-R_AelPqScLTulDwUy19KRGNaPVDZVe0qbjJlI0huwxnHkqLlOFVYv0s4LtOj0Mo4g/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-07-27+at+3.19.07+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Coffee break Spanish: these are created by Radio Lingua. There are free podcasts but lots of pushes to buy their programs, so be aware of that. I recommend getting the <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/coffee-break-spanish/id201598403?mt=2" target="_blank"><b>podcasts straight through iTunes</b></a> because the site is very clickbait heavy.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrxp9NBhHvRBpALIl4UQHzFICzVuMRqjCAg4oi_SvKK7u6iftYRJ4o-PTsbXhIY1htuCD__hp43HDUSF9jaH5gJ2IRNTQlhTGRBRlX9S1moFcCdDh4o-JpX1cwu4YZRw7y7np5YmVCcnE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.30.53+AM.png"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrxp9NBhHvRBpALIl4UQHzFICzVuMRqjCAg4oi_SvKK7u6iftYRJ4o-PTsbXhIY1htuCD__hp43HDUSF9jaH5gJ2IRNTQlhTGRBRlX9S1moFcCdDh4o-JpX1cwu4YZRw7y7np5YmVCcnE/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.30.53+AM.png" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Label your house with Spanish words. Being sure to include the gender of each noun (</span><i style="text-indent: -0.25in;">la</i><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> ventana), put sticky notes reinforced with tape on the objects they label. Avoid putting English words on your labels. If you absolutely need more guidance, draw the object next to the Spanish word. Here's a <b><a href="http://www.french-linguistics.co.uk/phrase_book/en/house_and_home.htmlhttps://www.e-spanyol.hu/en/vocabulary/words_home.php" target="_blank">list</a></b> that has lots of vocab words you'll need. </span></li>
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<u><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Beginner/Intermediate:</b> </span></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You had some Spanish classes and/or have been to Spanish speaking countries and remember a few words/phrases/grammar points, but you don’t remember how to conjugate verbs or articulate your thoughts.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Review these <a href="http://lingolearner.com/spanish.html" target="_blank"><b>grammar video lessons</b></a>. One viewing should be enough, if you find that you require more than one viewing to really “get” it, have a look at the “beginner” list until you feel more comfortable.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtGvX3RPStv_7LZEm9ZiIBlKsIGhyphenhyphentswfpOoQ_4neDj-_qhdvy56VLym9Ug6FqhOUHmJiw_X6pmeHUllR3DoiZxc4ensxYWjO-ZY1f5s6BJjUlQhXh_aFegdB47ljlqPIYpqYdPcjb9Cg/s1600/Globe+332x81.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtGvX3RPStv_7LZEm9ZiIBlKsIGhyphenhyphentswfpOoQ_4neDj-_qhdvy56VLym9Ug6FqhOUHmJiw_X6pmeHUllR3DoiZxc4ensxYWjO-ZY1f5s6BJjUlQhXh_aFegdB47ljlqPIYpqYdPcjb9Cg/s320/Globe+332x81.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">More lessons: <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/languages/spanish/" target="_blank"><b>This BBC site</b></a> is no longer updated but has tons of well-produced lessons and videos for free.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXoV5oqWjumNw43PX6UUrIK9vfy7Bnq_zNWwM3FAn981Q36FXmw5N8IYES3dnYzHiQS3vESn4QTV6tBcb9VvmdVmEVqIG1S_J0ryUbMFYGuzanJGi82uwUjPC2G1t6Bn2Bt1zbf8NWCgv/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.35.12+AM.png"><img border="0" height="70" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXoV5oqWjumNw43PX6UUrIK9vfy7Bnq_zNWwM3FAn981Q36FXmw5N8IYES3dnYzHiQS3vESn4QTV6tBcb9VvmdVmEVqIG1S_J0ryUbMFYGuzanJGi82uwUjPC2G1t6Bn2Bt1zbf8NWCgv/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.35.12+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">This is a good stage in which to see which areas are going well and which areas need more work. I’m pretty Type A so I recommend literally making a list of these things to help guide your future focus. Try going through the grammar elements (on the left side, where it says "free lessons") of <a href="http://www.spanishexperto.com/" target="_blank"><b>this site</b></a></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><b> </b>to categorize your needs.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiftWsQr2HFu_XSbzTsYFVX_I9ps65ToJJMiLj-ZycypkUfwYcNR-0IFQOS2JqkqXXgXW2sh4qUB0DxS3vFOsDqOHp5bGv7Z4I158hzqRxPD2a2H27iLP5evkjDln7r7vURfk7xy0j804z_/s1600/tchart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiftWsQr2HFu_XSbzTsYFVX_I9ps65ToJJMiLj-ZycypkUfwYcNR-0IFQOS2JqkqXXgXW2sh4qUB0DxS3vFOsDqOHp5bGv7Z4I158hzqRxPD2a2H27iLP5evkjDln7r7vURfk7xy0j804z_/s200/tchart.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Coffee break Spanish: these are created by Radio Lingua. There are free podcasts but lots of pushes to buy their programs, so be aware of that. I recommend getting the <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/coffee-break-spanish/id201598403?mt=2" target="_blank"><b>podcasts straight through iTunes</b></a> because the site is very clickbait heavy.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6D85g1uQahv8ZEocLzkFde0d8HehS0QFmYu2eofPm1sw7hFfjfmwUUhN-n4RXDaHMNZND-LhTHMaQecmeV2mM9uyXpVZZEN_8ZdhVAyUvG_oInt29se_Hy4Mt8OyGoxEpysaiPtX2VKf4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.30.53+AM.png"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6D85g1uQahv8ZEocLzkFde0d8HehS0QFmYu2eofPm1sw7hFfjfmwUUhN-n4RXDaHMNZND-LhTHMaQecmeV2mM9uyXpVZZEN_8ZdhVAyUvG_oInt29se_Hy4Mt8OyGoxEpysaiPtX2VKf4/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.30.53+AM.png" /></a></div>
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<li><b style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.spanishpod101.com/" target="_blank">SpanishPod101:</a></b><span style="text-align: left;"> Like Coffee Break, this is manufactured by a company that has a strong agenda when offering their free content: they want you to buy the premium subscription. Personally I get annoyed with stuff like that, BUT if you're the type who is willing to spend a bit more time maneuvering around the ads as long as things are free, you're good to go!</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoKxDPLp270mGDOnHOuOKm7ipesl654KIhwZJU-JD9iN23a5ta_MPBjnohLKXcIo9cWkkCiTbZqhu2x9ixILF7d2Xpt1lAUZ09JkRKejpUwcPu5ciffwpiGtgzQXmaCMKXBeX6CyuRbn4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.43.18+AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoKxDPLp270mGDOnHOuOKm7ipesl654KIhwZJU-JD9iN23a5ta_MPBjnohLKXcIo9cWkkCiTbZqhu2x9ixILF7d2Xpt1lAUZ09JkRKejpUwcPu5ciffwpiGtgzQXmaCMKXBeX6CyuRbn4/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.43.18+AM.png" width="255" /></a></div>
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<li>Try reading a book. No, really! <a href="http://totallyintense.com/" target="_blank">This one</a> I wrote features a simple storyline, stays in the present tense, and gradually adds more complex grammatical elements as you read. There are reminders and lessons in the margins and in between the lines so you don't have to keep a dictionary nearby. It's best read on an ipad so you can easily zoom in for the verb charts, but is also available for Kindle and in paperback.</li>
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<u><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intermediate</b>:</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You can converse in basic Spanish, but sometimes get way out of your depth when people answer your questions. You can read some sentences in major publications in Spanish. You have trouble with complex grammatical constructions, including subjunctive and compound past/future tenses.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Watch <b><a href="https://learner.org/series/destinos/" target="_blank">this series</a></b>. It's from the late 1980's so it can seem dated, but it has the bonus of being comprehensive, tried and true. In fact, I remember watching this when I was first learning Spanish in high school!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ka_aG0W_gjjRa2YrcnChLpWHUjG_lgNN9uVdcQ8w_MAELe1qTrWau275CjENZtjHZDYxRn36yqxo-_pDvByWstxOd5qLbe2_2-pgn7jXox4u5Z6LC62OK0Ba-oXEt8Qir394Pm0dcTZ5/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.44.48+AM.png"><img border="0" height="93" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ka_aG0W_gjjRa2YrcnChLpWHUjG_lgNN9uVdcQ8w_MAELe1qTrWau275CjENZtjHZDYxRn36yqxo-_pDvByWstxOd5qLbe2_2-pgn7jXox4u5Z6LC62OK0Ba-oXEt8Qir394Pm0dcTZ5/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.44.48+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
</span></li>
</ul>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Look over Spanish news sites: </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> <a href="https://es.euronews.com/" target="_blank"><b>EuroNews</b></a> is pretty neutral and has lots of interesting stories. I like the <a href="https://es.euronews.com/programas/adventures">"adventures" section</a> since I have more than enough news about politics. You can listen and watch videos AND read the transcripts below them. Be ready for the Castilian (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castilian_Spanish">castellano</a>) style and accents though.</span></li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkC8LiLpxRY7dCoLIVUr9sAx6b1PcFchRy63zUwFg8Cjw_UwnkEXNyaFgz6cPQY7B2wTnueEWJfM2X6XFutOpu7KZP5diOh9UhxsCfWe3REU4_6ZIF_-ExyE4FehlToKDLLTk-a_hyphenhyphen4QR/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.53.30+AM.png"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkC8LiLpxRY7dCoLIVUr9sAx6b1PcFchRy63zUwFg8Cjw_UwnkEXNyaFgz6cPQY7B2wTnueEWJfM2X6XFutOpu7KZP5diOh9UhxsCfWe3REU4_6ZIF_-ExyE4FehlToKDLLTk-a_hyphenhyphen4QR/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.53.30+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>One way to keep Spanish visible and engaging is to shift your learning from the classroom into your everyday life. One strategy: binge some memes in Spanish by following accounts on your favorite social media apps. Here are my fave instagram accounts:</li>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://so.mexican/">So.Mexican</a> even though (like all meme pages) they eventually recycle their content, and some posts are in English or Spanglish. PG-13 alert: some posts are also ridiculous and/or smutty (basically, your typical instagram account). I still recommend it though, especially if you're ready to learn some slang. </li>
<li>Another one is <a href="https://www.instagram.com/queboleta/" target="_blank">QueBoleta</a> from Colombia; this one is my favorite so far. It has lots of text posts and features relatively basic grammar. </li>
<li><a href="https://www.instagram.com/elperiodooficial/" target="_blank">El Periodo</a> has tons of text based memes</li>
<li>When you're ready to branch out, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/memesgimnasio/" target="_blank">here's one</a> that has a (silly) fitness focus.</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXY-O_93J8ldLTJgXsG6LeBF8jaDHBhCjX9xfsC0MZTSS-6FVVrLHiCajSWuK5k8csCzVL-0dDayD4fFSQXFzkxSRbBqJhMUJFWLm2dDBWSpw7_KLiXmupTW2KcVI0deJQ9vZROGrounK/s1600/IMG_7760.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXY-O_93J8ldLTJgXsG6LeBF8jaDHBhCjX9xfsC0MZTSS-6FVVrLHiCajSWuK5k8csCzVL-0dDayD4fFSQXFzkxSRbBqJhMUJFWLm2dDBWSpw7_KLiXmupTW2KcVI0deJQ9vZROGrounK/s320/IMG_7760.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Should be <b><i>íbamos</i></b>, but whatever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Give <a href="https://www.spanishdict.com/guide/the-100-most-common-spanish-verbs" target="_blank"><b>these 100 most common verbs</b></a> a look-over and work on the ones you haven’t perfected yet.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Coffee break Spanish: these are created by Radio Lingua. There are free podcasts but lots of pushes to buy their programs, so be aware of that. I recommend getting the <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/coffee-break-spanish/id201598403?mt=2" target="_blank"><b>podcasts straight through iTunes</b></a> because the site is very clickbait heavy.</span></li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqct4Cv1wDLgCVd1nKaOyXLApZp2KrzCfr5YMPy4Ss_L7DWm9bg3yntBvPNYpS43unfXbJuCAqFjskS85JAKf2tfnhC2i81DG2N3GM7L3bzNqzyf8gY9yctveWft1sMXbez9RsCldW0-aw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.30.53+AM.png"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqct4Cv1wDLgCVd1nKaOyXLApZp2KrzCfr5YMPy4Ss_L7DWm9bg3yntBvPNYpS43unfXbJuCAqFjskS85JAKf2tfnhC2i81DG2N3GM7L3bzNqzyf8gY9yctveWft1sMXbez9RsCldW0-aw/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+11.30.53+AM.png" /></a></div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><a href="http://www.holaviajeros.com/">Hola Viajeros:</a> Slowly spoken Spanish with no translations. Each link has about 2 paragraphs of free content before you are begged to buy an audiobook. You know the drill: use it for what you can, and if it clicks perfectly for you, it might be worth a purchase.</li>
</ul>
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<u><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intermediate/Advanced:</b></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">You can hold entire conversations in Spanish, but you have plenty of new vocabulary to learn and need reinforcement of aural and oral skills. You still come across plenty of expressions that you don’t understand, but you can read entire sentences in major publications in Spanish.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Brush up on your idioms. Just like the previous phrase doesn’t require an actual brush, these expressions use words that are loosely or not at all connected to their meanings. There’s a decent list of Spanish idioms <b><a href="https://www.rypeapp.com/blog/28-common-spanish-idioms-to-sound-like-a-native-speaker/" target="_blank">here</a> </b>(scroll down past the ads)</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Coffee break Spanish: these are created by Radio Lingua. There are free podcasts but lots of pushes to buy their programs, so be aware of that. I recommend getting the <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/coffee-break-spanish/id201598403?mt=2" target="_blank"><b>podcasts straight through iTunes</b></a> because the site is very clickbait heavy.</span></li>
<li><a href="http://www.holaviajeros.com/">Hola Viajeros:</a> Slowly spoken Spanish with no translations. Each link has about 2 paragraphs of free content before you are begged to buy an audiobook. You know the drill: use it for what you can, and if it clicks perfectly for you, it might be worth a purchase.</li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Watch some funny YouTube videos. These are NOT lessons, just silly videos that are really popular. Can be PG-13 but mostly harmless. Check 'em out: <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCoB0bRdMepkx-m9ig6vALoA" target="_blank">Daniela Bos</a> (Mexico), <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCzVIrPfZBE-XkBISBybMBLA" target="_blank">Werevertumorro</a> (Mexico), <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCoGDh1Xa3kUCpok24JN5DKA">EnchufeTv</a> (Ecuador). </b>I would also check out recommended videos once you watch those to discover more channels!</span></li>
</ul>
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<b><br /></b><u><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Advanced:</b></span></u></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">You can speak/read/understand Spanish completely over 90% of the time. You want more practice and to keep your Spanish at a high level.</span><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Watch a soap opera: I go to <a href="https://www.hulu.com/genre/latino-54698461-897e-473f-ba13-bc64b4183b3e">Hulu Latino</a>, chuck on the Spanish subtitles (basically captions), and binge guilt-free by telling myself I'm practicing my Spanish. Most telenovelas feature deliberate speech that's easy to follow (and the captions don't hurt)... but they are also painfully predictable. I'm currently watching Santa Diabla and I counted <b>3</b> times so far in one episode that the characters flashback to a memory that happened <i>in the same episode</i>. If this happened in an English-language show none of us would watch, but hey, we need the repetition in Spanish, right?<br /><div style="text-align: center; text-indent: -24px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpMLQouAIdULtx2iYL63UhpnasE3GicNrpErf5SXRJk-4IsJrA6hj511cxK-65J3FfEgTCJNpN8736H5HUCMNdgGYtgS1188hNUwpnXMQYvMR9ZVVTYP2_IkSTesqNoYesMNznxxFiJ8r/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.27.54+PM.png" style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpMLQouAIdULtx2iYL63UhpnasE3GicNrpErf5SXRJk-4IsJrA6hj511cxK-65J3FfEgTCJNpN8736H5HUCMNdgGYtgS1188hNUwpnXMQYvMR9ZVVTYP2_IkSTesqNoYesMNznxxFiJ8r/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.27.54+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
</span></li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">There are also good quality Spanish shows. These won't be as easy to follow because they are written for people who actually expect something unique and entertaining (unlike the telenovela audience, ha!). Try Casa de Papel on Netflix (English name to search: Money Heist).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIMMH4-Ux61onD5ltqHEZ39xW98tAv0-ki79AnqviUeQmdPkGDsOPcveqNSAn3KyBfch5LpofLqZ54AU9QtaVQhI5rSNgmb1yVGAOc5gDWKOZsdu7vrNdIKA0E91DtAjXdTmhBx0UJsOi3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.29.44+PM.png" style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIMMH4-Ux61onD5ltqHEZ39xW98tAv0-ki79AnqviUeQmdPkGDsOPcveqNSAn3KyBfch5LpofLqZ54AU9QtaVQhI5rSNgmb1yVGAOc5gDWKOZsdu7vrNdIKA0E91DtAjXdTmhBx0UJsOi3/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.29.44+PM.png" width="320" /></a><br />
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</span></li>
<li>I've heard good things about La Casa de Flores, or the House of Flowers, on Netflix. This will be my next show after Santa Diabla (or whenever I get tired of the relentless flashbacks, ha!), so I'll update you with my thoughts.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
Update: I LOVE this show! But beware, it is definitely not for kids.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Image result for casa de las flores" height="320" src="https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BMjI0Njk0NDM2NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNDY4ODA3NTM@._V1_UY1200_CR90,0,630,1200_AL_.jpg" style="text-align: left;" width="168" /></div></div></li>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Ok. My favorite so far: Club de Cuervos on Netflix. It is all about soccer, but also has lots of business-oriented vocabulary as the main characters run several businesses in addition to the soccer team they own. Definitely Pg-13/sliding into the R range but SO entertaining, and Mexican slang out the wazoo. Also some good exposure to country-specific accents and slang, like Argentina. <br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNu2Y5SabI5vY3jywTUP8R7YNvTKkdgdM1NudHpvmYwC7YDXWXDZtjTO4iO8wumD18pwQpXr9yQOrGMILWJfAk3KIDCqTb7lWkfxn4BRzeIXQb4m8dFUl96yIwghtkmliNNEBol1ERxUk_/s958/club.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="958" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNu2Y5SabI5vY3jywTUP8R7YNvTKkdgdM1NudHpvmYwC7YDXWXDZtjTO4iO8wumD18pwQpXr9yQOrGMILWJfAk3KIDCqTb7lWkfxn4BRzeIXQb4m8dFUl96yIwghtkmliNNEBol1ERxUk_/w400-h249/club.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></li><li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Watch the <a href="https://actualidad.rt.com/en_vivo" target="_blank"><b>news in Spanish, 24/7</b></a>. </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> Just click on “En Vivo” to have constant video/audio.</span></li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLhqR6vZpZ3sXsB0EfTTerN2SEQ_pnllhPh0oBdcZut3RYlivMh9PuGjuBiPXrcIFC1wvUj2a3hKjoeuJwEFwsz9mPXQsC9ACHX9k2Y2_G4H0kzaXVlpH8xXvKCao_y0Ar-fpfKSZe3vh/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.31.57+PM.png"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLhqR6vZpZ3sXsB0EfTTerN2SEQ_pnllhPh0oBdcZut3RYlivMh9PuGjuBiPXrcIFC1wvUj2a3hKjoeuJwEFwsz9mPXQsC9ACHX9k2Y2_G4H0kzaXVlpH8xXvKCao_y0Ar-fpfKSZe3vh/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.31.57+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/elpulsodelarepublica" target="_blank"><b>El Pulso de la República</b></a></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">. Similar to The Colbert Report and Bill Maher in the United States in that they do transmit news, but mock it all the while. Politicians are particularly targeted. Double entendres, references to regional Latino politics, mocking accents, and quick repartees abound – not for the faint of Spanish-learning heart!</span></li>
</ul>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><b>Watch "<a href="https://vimeo.com/192753922">El tiempo entre costuras</a>." </b>It's a very well done period piece that is sadly no longer available on any of the regular streaming sites (the link I gave you is to a somewhat shady Vimeo channel that may be shut down soon). Castellano (Spain) Spanish, so no Latin American speech styles.</li>
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<b style="text-align: left;"><u style="font-weight: 400;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><ul style="text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: left;"><u style="font-weight: 400;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></u></b></ul>
All levels:</b></span></u></b><br /><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Listen to some Spanish music!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkJ92tiGZafuTHs2fN39Nuj8U_JIVpaBgjlvxKXtHKpBntDwbb-9PMG_O5WOW_zCYtqOULBDB_HMi4WcyUTVXxS8eSVw9NExrAt28dHxlWapT19A8SNmnKXyb3kBHlBCyjzUjNCR2alVW/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.48.47+PM.png"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkJ92tiGZafuTHs2fN39Nuj8U_JIVpaBgjlvxKXtHKpBntDwbb-9PMG_O5WOW_zCYtqOULBDB_HMi4WcyUTVXxS8eSVw9NExrAt28dHxlWapT19A8SNmnKXyb3kBHlBCyjzUjNCR2alVW/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-10+at+12.48.47+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li>There are so many awesome Spanish-language songs I'm not even sure how to group them! I'll pile a list here and let you find which ones you like best. Despacito not included ;)</li>
<ul>
<li>Shakira</li>
<li>Carlos Vives</li>
<li>Maluma</li>
<li>Enanitos Verdes</li>
<li>Fonsi </li>
<li>J Balvin</li>
<li>Nicky Jam</li>
<li>Marc Antony</li>
<li>Enrique Iglesias</li>
<li>Ozuna</li>
<li>Juanes</li>
<li>Jennifer Lopez</li>
<li>Celia Cruz</li>
<li>Julieta Venegas<br /><br /><br />Got any more resources or ideas for Spanish learners? Send them to me!</li>
</ul>
</span></ul>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-47204071989522077442018-07-28T08:06:00.000-07:002018-08-03T10:08:37.275-07:00Chicks before Dictatorships: Visiting Turkmenistan as a solo female traveler<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Once I left Georgia, it was time for the most intimidating destination of the trip: Turkmenistan.<br />
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I will confess that my desire to see Turkmenistan was based almost entirely on my ignorance of it. Like... who goes to Turkmenistan? I saw this rhetorical question as a major reason to go there, but most others I talked to about it (especially in nearby Azerbaijan) would utter it in an incredulous tone that did not leave room for positive, adventurous interpretation.<br />
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Many people seem to share this reluctance: Turkmenistan (can we call it T-stan from now on?) is the 7th least visited country in the world with about 7,000 annual visitors. For context, North Korea does not even make the list of the 25 least visited places. The least visited place on earth is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nauru" target="_blank">Nauru</a> in Micronesia, a country with an area of 21km (who wants to go?!). France is the most visited with... can you guess?<br />
85 million tourists every year!<br />
[Sources for travel stats <a href="http://garfors.com/2015/07/the-25-least-visited-countries-in-whole.html/" target="_blank">here</a>]<br />
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So obviously you want to go to T-stan now, right? Well, the first issue is planning the trip. Air travel to the capital (Ashgabat) is not very popular (see travel stats above), and only a handful of airlines go there at all. When they do, it's at very random times. For example, traveling from Tbilisi to Ashgabat required a circuitous detour via Turkey on Turkish airlines, resulting in an arrival at Ashgabat at 2am. There are also options to see T-stan by land, essentially retracing the silk road. Sadly I did not have time for such an excursion, but you might!<br />
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Americans traveling to T-stan are required to have a Letter of Invitation from a tour company. I went with <a href="http://www.turkmen-travel.com/" target="_blank">Turkmen Travel</a>, which I would describe as "technically gets the job done but nothing to worship," as I'll explain throughout this post. They sent my LOI as a picture of the document rather than the original document, which several airport personnel weren't too pleased with, but it worked. When I arrived at the airport at 2am, I had to take that letter to a counter that said "Visa" which had a long line. The person at that counter takes your passport (warning for people who become anxious when separated from their passports) and gives you a little visa bill ($85 USD, must be paid in American cash (?!)). Rather than paying then and there, which would make sense, you take the bill to another counter with another line, and magically when you arrive and present the bill you are now expected to pay $96 USD even though the bill clearly states less. The people in front of me who complained about this were dismissed with a curt "It's a registration fee." I didn't bother complaining because a) I rarely indulge in confrontation at 2am and b) others' complaints were not successful. What are you going to do, refuse? Anyway, the first tip is to bring plenty of American cash.<br />
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Turkmen Travel was great because it was a one-stop shop. I got my paperwork, hotel, tours, and (most crucially) a pre-arranged ride from and to the airport all with the same reservation. My 3 day/3 night booking included everything except lunch and dinner for $685 (paid in cash the next day at the hotel, I guess I had the first night on an honor code basis). Gulp! It seemed pretty hefty at the time but when you realize the amount of effort that goes into it, it semi makes sense. For example, the drive to the Darvaza crater was 4 hours each way, which if you think of it as an Uber ride accounts for about half the cost in and of itself. It was also awesome not to have to deal with getting a taxi at, after the visa shenanignas, 3 am.<br />
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Before we get into more details, I have one extremely important piece of advice. DO NOT VISIT T-STAN IN JULY. I didn't really have a choice, since this is when my friend was going home to see family (see <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2018/07/azerbaijan.html" target="_blank">Azerbaijan post</a>) and I had time between teaching and taking summer classes in Boston.<br />
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But July is the hottest month and, go figure, not a good time to go into the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karakum_Desert" target="_blank">Karakum desert</a>. I realize there is a heat wave throughout the entire world right now, but here you pretty much have to be inside from 8:30am (when temps are already in the 100s) to 7:30pm (a little before sunset). I obviously didn't do this since I had a lot to see in very little time, but my body is still not happy about it. Especially since, like <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2012/09/israel-jordan-egypt-uae-june-2012.html" target="_blank">Egypt and Jordan</a>, this is a rather conservative country and dressing in clothing that shows any arm or leg will result in weird looks and unwanted attention.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very typical "casual" Turkmen lady outfit. <a href="https://jaytindall.asia/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/DSC09531.jpg" target="_blank">These hats</a> seemed ornate to me but they were definitely very common. I did not make a great impression in my flowy top and linen pants, but on the plus side I didn't die of heat stroke. </td></tr>
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I had booked a tour that included Nisa, Ashgabat, and the Karakum desert. I had what can only be called a nap (4am bedtime, 8am breakfast) and then my guide and driver for the day met me at my hotel. Before I even got in the car, my guide warned me that taking pictures in certain places, even from the car, was forbidden and could result in a police officer taking my phone. It turns out that this is much more feasible than I initially thought. As soon as we started driving, officers would constantly either direct us onward or wave us to the side of the road for a random "show us your papers" check. Our car got checked twice in 2 hours. The driver nonchalantly handed 2 laminated documents to the officer each time this happened, and after a few minutes we were back on our way. My guide told me it was extremely common and not even an inconvenience for Turkmen people to do this several times a day.<br />
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So you're not allowed to take pictures of any government buildings. This is rough because almost every building in the city of Ashgabat seems to be a ministry or government office of some sort. The buildings are all made of white marble with gold accents.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Government buildings in the distance. Don't worry, I took this from the safety of my hotel room. </td></tr>
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Our first destination was Nisa, where you can see the ruins of an ancient settlement, supposedly built around 200 BC. My guide gave me lots of details and facts about this place, but unfortunately I was a sub-par audience.<br />
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Guide: "And here in this room were discovered remnants that lead us to believe that there were once statues carved into the wall, a symbol of importance for then king Arsaces..."<br />
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Me:<br />
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Nisa is really neat though. Do make sure to wear a hat because there are no ceilings and very little shade. Another tip for that location would be to look out for the hundreds of wasps that have made a home in the precious UNESCO-recognized mud walls.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Nisa settlement as seen from the entry point.</td></tr>
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Monuments</h4>
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After Nisa, we drove around (in the mercifully air-conditioned car) to see the various monuments in Ashgabat. <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attractions-g293966-Activities-c47-Ashgabat_Ahal_Province.html" target="_blank">This site</a> breaks them down for you, so I'll just give you my impressions. </div>
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The "president" (/dictator) and former president have many monuments in their honor. Niyasov, the former president, wrote a book entitled <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruhnama" target="_blank">Ruhnama</a>. Since he was <strike>a dictator</strike> very influential, the book is required reading in all Turkmen schools (kindergarten to university). You must cite passages of it verbatim without error in order to obtain a driver's license. In addition to many monuments to the author, there is also a monument <i>to the book itself</i>. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">According to Wikipedia: Each evening at 8:00 pm, the cover opens and a recording of a passage from the book is played with accompanying video. Here's an inexplicably head-banging <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1WhLZp_ocg" target="_blank">excerpt</a> from a documentary with footage of it. </td></tr>
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That's nice, but we can all agree it's not <i>quite</i> enough recognition for the book. But what else could you possibly do? Niyasov was ready with the answer. <i>He officially changed the name of the month of September</i> to "Ruhnama." Because he finished writing the book in September. Obviously! Publishers, are you writing this down? Also, henceforth, the month of May will be referred to as "<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Las-Pastillas-Oro-Totally-Intense/dp/0692601384" target="_blank">Las Pastillas de Oro</a>."</div>
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Very few in, no one out</h4>
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We know that not many people visit T-stan. Sadly, the other side of that coin is that very very few citizens are allowed out of the country. My guide (name withheld just in case) told me about how, when he was studying languages and tourism, he earned a spot in a study abroad program in Germany. He completed his visa requirements, bought his ticket, and had his family come with him to the airport to see him off. He got as far as the border patrol before he was told that he was not allowed to leave the country. As someone who studied tourism, he "knew too much" about T-stan. He simply turned around and went back home. The only country to which Turkmen citizens can freely travel is Turkey. </div>
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That reminds me, a quick demonym lesson: People from T-stan are Turk<u>men</u>, people from Turkey are Turk<u>ish</u>. And demonym is a greek amalgamation of "demo" (people) and "nym" (name) <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">→</span></span> the name of the people (from a certain place). Lesson over, good job!</div>
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The food</h4>
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Not so vegetarian friendly. I had lots of lentil soup and bread. I ordered a beet salad once and got a heaping plate of shredded beets, which was hilarious and a little bit gross. </div>
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The craters</h4>
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Ranked as the number 1 thing to see in Turkmenistan, the craters are Kind of a Big Deal. I was pumped because I had read several <a href="https://www.wildjunket.com/turkmenistans-darvaza-gas-craters/" target="_blank">blogs</a> of people visiting the craters and getting these epic <a href="https://www.advantour.com/img/turkmenistan/darvaza/darvaza5.jpg" target="_blank">pictures</a>. The biggest-deal crater is known as the Doorway to Hell and the guide/driver (a different one from my guide the day before) gamely drove me the 4 hours out into the Karakum desert to see it. We brought sufficient supplies:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frozen water bottles were a necessity.</td></tr>
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On the way, there are 2 more craters. These are definitely the "opening act" craters, and maintenance on them is not exactly up to code.<br />
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We finally arrived at the Doorway to Hell crater, and it's extremely cool. To see. It's extremely not cool to stand next to in a desert that was already 110 degrees <i>before</i> you stood next to a massive flaming pit of fire. </div>
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There were only a handful of other tourists there; all of them were camping for (at least) the night in the nearby yurts, which made me jealous.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"People are going to want to see these yurts," I thought to myself. </td></tr>
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However, there was a major bummer. There was now a guard rail! And it was sufficiently maintained! So sad. My guide said they put it up last month, probably because it's dangerous to let people get right up to the edge of an enormous flaming fire pit. But still! </div>
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This was clearly the spot for a handstand picture, but the guardrail was not very photogenic. </div>
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There was only one option. </div>
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It was time to cross my fingers and hope that no state police were lurking around, and hop it. </div>
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My driver was doing his best to take the handstand pic, but he was so nervous about me being over the guardrail that he kept struggling with it. At that point a charming Italian guy walked up and showed me the screen of his fancy camera: it was my handstand!</div>
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So, how did it turn out? I don't know yet, he was camping out there with no digital connectivity and said he could email it to me "sometime in August." I was also so hot that I might have given him an incorrect email address. I'll put it on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/manda_goes/" target="_blank">my instagram</a> if/when it comes through!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scraping away the rubble in preparation for possibly the most badass handstand pic yet; also apparently doing a Michael Jackson impression. </td></tr>
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In case you're still wondering why there are no other tourists in the pics from this part of the trip: practically no one else was there! At the mosque where I took the handstand pic, there was one other tourist who was inside at the time. That's the upside of visiting one of the least <strike>popular</strike> visited places on earth 😉</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqNDzgF0KuyLECCWiPd41xj4mVYrgmzbdxuQbHbS_Mu29V6kMUQirlCFWEtYat7ZAZ049O0OvXVQSJtMx2sg7k4WIwtl0QtUixK7NU0RgqLHaQK_rlqKcpoxCdiAQ6ocwt4OxVgco18Wx9/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-07-31+at+5.18.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="599" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqNDzgF0KuyLECCWiPd41xj4mVYrgmzbdxuQbHbS_Mu29V6kMUQirlCFWEtYat7ZAZ049O0OvXVQSJtMx2sg7k4WIwtl0QtUixK7NU0RgqLHaQK_rlqKcpoxCdiAQ6ocwt4OxVgco18Wx9/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-07-31+at+5.18.14+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Books for this part of the trip:</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Small-Great-Things-Jodi-Picoult/dp/0345544951" target="_blank">Small great things</a>, Jodi Picoult. Amazing plot and writing style, horrific subject matter.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-42892863996171329092018-07-26T11:37:00.000-07:002019-07-28T20:53:51.406-07:00Tbilisi, Georgia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After a week in Azerbaijan, it was time to take a long weekend to explore some nearby countries that I wouldn't otherwise travel to separately. One of those was Georgia, a confusing place to tell people you're visiting if you're from the states ("not <i>that</i> Georgia"). Fun fact: the only time I went to the state of Georgia in the US was on a layover.<br />
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I stayed in the capital, Tbilisi, which means "warm place" in ancient Georgian due to the thermal springs that tempted some ancient dude to found the city there. Ancient Georgian is about as intelligible to me as modern Georgian - not. at. all. I was not even close to understanding words. Their written language reminded me of Hindi or some other southeast Asian script. It was beautiful!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QTZ0KR13IbcbGOGH4JsuX75Pg_9VRtKmF8g_eUo1BBs3T950Wj8BB1UhyE6eMT8U3B4yf2bBy17cxGe55d9LyOTNwiBhD8sv3cNSYjaiM55cTMifbAqNZ3gxDtVqI3ubPhVnr2VBY5yW/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-07-25+at+3.07.09+PM.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QTZ0KR13IbcbGOGH4JsuX75Pg_9VRtKmF8g_eUo1BBs3T950Wj8BB1UhyE6eMT8U3B4yf2bBy17cxGe55d9LyOTNwiBhD8sv3cNSYjaiM55cTMifbAqNZ3gxDtVqI3ubPhVnr2VBY5yW/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-07-25+at+3.07.09+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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I only had 2 days in Georgia due to the horrible flight schedule between my next destination and any other country ever (dictatorships be like that sometimes, more on that in the next entry). So I crammed in 2 tours: a <a href="http://tbilisifreewalkingtours.com/" target="_blank">tip-based evening tour</a> and a prepaid <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/AttractionProductReview-g294195-d11485122-Tbilisi_Walking_Tour_with_Cable_Cars_Wine_Tasting_and_Traditional_Bakery-Tbilisi.html" target="_blank">all-day tour</a> led by the lovely <a href="https://www.instagram.com/tamo_ramishvili/" target="_blank">Tamo</a>. They were both awesome and had relatively little overlap (the main overlap was a visit to a bakery that has been continuously functioning for hundreds of years and specializes in mouth-watering <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khachapuri" target="_blank">khachapuri</a>. I was obviously ok with visiting the bakery multiple times.). </div>
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My favorite part of the tours (other than the bakery, obvi) was the street vendors selling fresh squeezed pomegranate juice. Just like in Azerbaijan, pomegranates are big here, and I am literally eating it up. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujAXXx1xwKOwyirQF8RLTtsHPc-7M5xjdsTbWo5psfJzhdPbzfjOUdAyIatvDen03AW81j7fuQ9oVSsFJS023jzjon_RGFd3ioGXwXp619-NYaLu6HiO1m3wOpt24r5WWU8RkueQoHd_n/s1600/IMG_6606.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujAXXx1xwKOwyirQF8RLTtsHPc-7M5xjdsTbWo5psfJzhdPbzfjOUdAyIatvDen03AW81j7fuQ9oVSsFJS023jzjon_RGFd3ioGXwXp619-NYaLu6HiO1m3wOpt24r5WWU8RkueQoHd_n/s320/IMG_6606.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Another fave in Tbilisi was the statue that overlooks the city: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kartlis_Deda" target="_blank">Our Mother of Georgia</a>. The protector of the city is female and holds a bowl of wine in one hand and a sword in the other. My guides differed on the symbolism of the wine (is it held as a tribute to the hard work that goes into the production process, or raised in a gesture of welcome to friendly visitors? I got a vibe that it was the latter.) but the sword's message is pretty clear ("I like swords.")</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4M4FQpQgLUYjpENrurWHux-PI_XUOyaTWpTgSRSGaCbpmCAqSHsGKK6hO52PKWyJ8MreveV-hK73AaIJJi5hHc7VPL3nM9IAXpp-QMBJJkag6tfkLZdPwiy2NcIZk-_JoqxfFbA5uMgL3/s1600/320px-Dzveli_Tbilisi%252C_Tbilisi%252C_Georgia_-_panoramio_%252837%2529_cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4M4FQpQgLUYjpENrurWHux-PI_XUOyaTWpTgSRSGaCbpmCAqSHsGKK6hO52PKWyJ8MreveV-hK73AaIJJi5hHc7VPL3nM9IAXpp-QMBJJkag6tfkLZdPwiy2NcIZk-_JoqxfFbA5uMgL3/s320/320px-Dzveli_Tbilisi%252C_Tbilisi%252C_Georgia_-_panoramio_%252837%2529_cropped.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kartlis_Deda" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a> pic</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My pic (after taking the cable car to the top of the city).</td></tr>
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Tbilisi is has one of the best exotic-to-manageable ratios I've experienced. It is <i>really</i> different from western European cities, but absolutely charming and very picturesque. Everyone speaks Georgian, most people speak Russian, and a healthy handful of guides/merchants/hotel staff speak great English. </div>
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Speaking of Russian, we had a middle-aged Russian lady on the night tour. She left halfway through the tour and I asked the guide what was up. He said she had lectured him on presenting Stalin and Lenin as neutral facts in Georgia's history. She was upset because she expected that when he mentioned those names he would extol the virtues of the Soviet influence on Georgia. When he gently told her he wasn't going to do that, she left the tour in a huff. I was shocked that someone willing to travel internationally could have such a narrow worldview. In related news, Russia's brainwashing of its citizens seems to be quite successful. </div>
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On the opposite side of the spectrum, I met some awesome girls from Poland and Spain on my other tour, who like me were just hoping to explore a new country over the weekend. Mission accomplished for the 3 of us!<br />
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<u></u>My gripe for Tbilisi:<br />
Transportation to/from the airport.<br />
It's extremely cheap, which is awesome. The cost is .50 lari <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">ლ)</span>, or about 20 cents in USD, and goes pretty far (it takes 45 minutes each way and brings you straight into the city center). The problem is that you must have it in exact change. I changed money at the airport (ouch) so I could take the bus, and then when I got on and offered a <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">ლ</span>5 bill had the attendant wave me away shaking her head. Um, ok. The bus left. I went inside and asked the info desk what happened. She explained and told me to go to one of the shops to get change (some travel blogs say the info ladies will give you change. Lies!). So I got 5 <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">ლ</span>1 coins and tried again. The next bus came in 20 minutes (not bad!) and I proudly offered my <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">ლ</span>1 coin, only to get the dreaded head-shake and a stream of Georgian explanation. I motioned that I was ok losing .50 cents and please just take this coin: no. Ok, I would pay for 2 people so it would be exact change? Also no. Finally a sweet woman just paid for me. I tried to give her the <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">ლ</span>1 coin in thanks (it was double her investment!) and even <i>she</i> waved me away. One person, .50 cents. NO OTHER OPTION.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bus attendant on the way to the airport fell asleep on the machine. People kept waking him up to pay and he was livid. A lot of people just didn't pay (even when he was awake) and I'm beginning to think that was the better option. </td></tr>
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Book read during this portion: The <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Goldfinch-Novel-Pulitzer-Prize-Fiction/dp/0316055425" target="_blank">Goldfinch</a> by Donna Tartt. Very entertaining, but a bit too long-winded for me. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-79030049717393475022018-07-20T04:45:00.001-07:002021-06-01T00:21:28.743-07:00Azerbaijan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Remember when I moved to Boston and <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2014/07/im-moving-again.html" target="_blank">took a while to adjust</a> to the freezing temperatures and hostile people? One of my lifelines came in the form of a friendship with a gorgeous, sassy, hilariously pessimistic girl from Azerbaijan. After 4 years of knowing each other, I finally convinced her to let me come with her the next time she went home to visit family and renew visas etc.<br />
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Let's start with this.<br />
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That's where it is :)</div>
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I had already learned a few things about Azerbaijan through my friend, such as:<br />
a. Azeri is the official language, but the middle/upper class speaks (sometimes exclusively) Russian. The country is a former Soviet Union nation.<br />
b. The vice president is the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vice_President_of_Azerbaijan" target="_blank">wife of the president</a> (!!!!!!!). Nepotism is extremely popular.<br />
c. Things like feminism and government criticism are... not popular.<br />
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But there was still much to learn, so after teaching a summer school course in Boston I hopped on a plane (via NYC) to the capital city, Baku.<br />
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*Note: It would be very difficult to fully enjoy your time here or communicate dietary limitations in restaurants without someone who speaks both Russian and Azeri. I strongly recommend <a href="https://www.instagram.com/absherontour/?hl=en" target="_blank">Absheron Tour group</a>, run by a young, hip, trilingual, local boss lady named Natella.<br />
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<u>Sites to see</u>:<br />
1. The Maiden Tower (old town)<br />
Named for a woman who, legend has it, got a little too interested in a poor man and was sequestered in the fortress tower by her family to avoid a shameful union with him. She jumped to her death from the top story. I now realize I should have asked my friend when exactly this is alleged to have happened. I assume it was like the middle ages but now that I think about it the honor/money-heavy marriage mentality here does not seem to have changed much.<br />
<img src="http://www.visions.az/uploads/single_images/06_02_2017/gala_01_big.jpg" /><br />
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2. The Flame Towers (old town)<br />
Azerbaijan is reportedly the home country of the prophet Zarathustra, who started the movement that developed into the Zoroastrian religion. Zoroastrians worship fire (among other cool stuff), and these modern office buildings pay homage to those religious roots. There are plenty of non-modern vestiges of ancient Zoroastrianism though, like number 4 on this list.<br />
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3. The Carpet Museum (old town)<br />
France has wine and cheese. Germany has cars. Azerbaijan has carpets.<br />
The craftsmanship that goes into carpet making is so complex that I watched a slow motion animated video on how to do it and STILL cannot fathom how one thread at a time can result in something so intricately detailed as the carpets produced here. There is a museum dedicated to the art form in which you can see not only hundreds of carpets spanning from the 15th century to the present day but also interactive loom displays where you can try your hand at carpet making (you will suck at it). The museum building itself is in the form of a rolled up carpet, which I think we can all agree is just the best.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIPtSgPxH6GPqhh9dm49DlhWQc493JU26Eja72EANXVSt4d4TeKWp4cigee5smu2ASH1MiCpgtUCGd78LWwKxbgsgIy4h850q5xjkNOcMNr3O64OeFf-UWE9laP8tXps7ijoRVkOJZrXf/s1600/mus.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="165" data-original-width="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIPtSgPxH6GPqhh9dm49DlhWQc493JU26Eja72EANXVSt4d4TeKWp4cigee5smu2ASH1MiCpgtUCGd78LWwKxbgsgIy4h850q5xjkNOcMNr3O64OeFf-UWE9laP8tXps7ijoRVkOJZrXf/s1600/mus.jpg" /></a></div>
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And don't you dare call them Persian carpets! Azerbaijan is pretty sore on this subject.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqhfcLaysX9TdV_T3XxJfnja0GVuYEPdf-NbHdBiHbm5aQC6VtlNTsEA8gm64xDfXuRvk406oNu4-OGrxhIhE2Dwpa5mKkrE9io67w8i8pR4n80uIdXji8coeCkiD6_fmascJy7ObQeeu/s1600/IMG_6433.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqhfcLaysX9TdV_T3XxJfnja0GVuYEPdf-NbHdBiHbm5aQC6VtlNTsEA8gm64xDfXuRvk406oNu4-OGrxhIhE2Dwpa5mKkrE9io67w8i8pR4n80uIdXji8coeCkiD6_fmascJy7ObQeeu/s400/IMG_6433.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A salty jab in the carpet museum #carpetwars</td></tr>
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4. Ateshgah - the Fire Temple (outside the city)<br />
Built on space that, during the 7th century, was thought to be holy due to the fires that seemed to burn constantly in the desert (a natural gas channel below ground provides constant natural fuel), this temple was obvi a good spot to worship fire for the Zoroastrians (see #2). You can go into the center of the compound where a large fire is burning even today. If you are masochistic, you stay there for more than 2 seconds. The average temperature during my stay in Azerbaijan was 99 degrees Fahrenheit, and in the sun it feels like about 110, and next to the massive fire pit it feels like 200. Still, a few tourists were dauntlessly taking pictures by it. Psychos.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8H-j_BRSzYq5Qg6JGoVU8JC5X-fs60uZn3Vxx6GlY0ZAZl385sWrZWpA1CDExcxhmLkaerd7aMfnpOD_BT8S_viJu0pvNYMDYFwolI6YhMAi7TcXY63AJgd7gIAeneC5UtF-93dO7gczb/s1600/temp.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="1400" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8H-j_BRSzYq5Qg6JGoVU8JC5X-fs60uZn3Vxx6GlY0ZAZl385sWrZWpA1CDExcxhmLkaerd7aMfnpOD_BT8S_viJu0pvNYMDYFwolI6YhMAi7TcXY63AJgd7gIAeneC5UtF-93dO7gczb/s320/temp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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5. Gobustan - Petroglyph site (outside the city)<br />
My favorite! Generations of tribes have contributed to these rock carvings that show not only animals and hunting scenes but also dance parties. There is a museum (partially air conditioned, glory be!) with well-done interactive displays showing not just details about the carvings but also similarities between these petroglyphs and others discovered around the world.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuHgOygmOgbfIeymzhkf87ExpLwMlJRTJjVHeUOtANTjJeNudGfLOYtyPQCcdFNl-7of4L6b30mUqqqNR4A86BIi1O9MPd5GESsQw7i0NlxpBOEd46mM168ChMQEW9MOurOJuAt6P3E4a/s1600/IMG_6337.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuHgOygmOgbfIeymzhkf87ExpLwMlJRTJjVHeUOtANTjJeNudGfLOYtyPQCcdFNl-7of4L6b30mUqqqNR4A86BIi1O9MPd5GESsQw7i0NlxpBOEd46mM168ChMQEW9MOurOJuAt6P3E4a/s320/IMG_6337.JPG" width="256" /></a><img alt="Image result for gobustan dance carving" height="320" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3954/33142044963_c7c2537581_b.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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The only thing that is really disturbing is that while animals are portrayed somewhat realistically, and men are portrayed perhaps with a bit of delusional phallic superiority, women in the carvings are portrayed without heads or arms. Obviously my interpretation of that design choice isn't foolproof, but it doesn't seem to bode well for valuing women's intellectual and artistic contributions at the time.<br />
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Animals<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJWAjjdh6VymkFJZ0GjlpyHRJLoYTyLTBRaVhczZ3170Ma_4E6-zr8pN0sDzYzwnwVhKtNhRN-RlbAIbFuhiwLlb-DnIN19nVm2H2HsRHNYuOVBLQMsPGkkyTNpgwIY-JF3MJVBFh3-po/s1600/horse.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="839" data-original-width="1300" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJWAjjdh6VymkFJZ0GjlpyHRJLoYTyLTBRaVhczZ3170Ma_4E6-zr8pN0sDzYzwnwVhKtNhRN-RlbAIbFuhiwLlb-DnIN19nVm2H2HsRHNYuOVBLQMsPGkkyTNpgwIY-JF3MJVBFh3-po/s320/horse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Man<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTjScd5nxC7hXSKC57xnCzXYZG-PFnlB5YimUCSYQCv92ZAGoB3uxHaA8HlqkI74SMw8aUtQ8bKoGaHp0VFtQQhI08Zp91fjv5Hg92k86BFlkIzc1MNMVOqz3pFwkEgw8Y0rMWaPtLaTL/s1600/bejukdashuppertcesthside29.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="330" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTjScd5nxC7hXSKC57xnCzXYZG-PFnlB5YimUCSYQCv92ZAGoB3uxHaA8HlqkI74SMw8aUtQ8bKoGaHp0VFtQQhI08Zp91fjv5Hg92k86BFlkIzc1MNMVOqz3pFwkEgw8Y0rMWaPtLaTL/s320/bejukdashuppertcesthside29.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As my friend noted, the guy on the left was perhaps "the first porn star."</td></tr>
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Women<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXHVFQn4ufTzTe41wk9s_ggXLWkQEjaE0gHUfRSfcBWo7FnvlgDhelsWXlTImjzr1cutnzpe3Tu26Wz7m-0iKH6Byq9iq-rjx_doAAdXK84sHhIaZtZg64kgvMaK5zZjQMZ7OPVnlUj1h/s1600/womenbejukdashstone78.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="492" data-original-width="447" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXHVFQn4ufTzTe41wk9s_ggXLWkQEjaE0gHUfRSfcBWo7FnvlgDhelsWXlTImjzr1cutnzpe3Tu26Wz7m-0iKH6Byq9iq-rjx_doAAdXK84sHhIaZtZg64kgvMaK5zZjQMZ7OPVnlUj1h/s320/womenbejukdashstone78.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How are they holding the oars/bows?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Other things to experience in Baku include:<br />
1. Pomegranates<br />
They. are. so. good. They factor prominently in local art. I learned how to cut them like a pro.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVhfANqqQsloV-z6moL-sDwbMoX7LaYOMirvjMHUCxjhBBy4AbNT-LQRLl2XwUq0gT4BE6DDoRfF2vG56Bz2_9zYaAAbgO-Aq19RzVxNYAIOXXrtuO7UNJnbOxva5ALy83h36XdPqvFnK/s1600/IMG_6412.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVhfANqqQsloV-z6moL-sDwbMoX7LaYOMirvjMHUCxjhBBy4AbNT-LQRLl2XwUq0gT4BE6DDoRfF2vG56Bz2_9zYaAAbgO-Aq19RzVxNYAIOXXrtuO7UNJnbOxva5ALy83h36XdPqvFnK/s320/IMG_6412.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJfkXBZt5_bnCoR-nmobJrd9pCbDHlr1dBJalMYpyRShRkskj6DzcSDkMtBgWazaEFlJtTk-v3xUGrKHbD41M79ZTnTiWiTrhHp81Pqdje8Sb3KoaCIFStBasWaRWAbe2FWDlQ_28aorY3/s1600/IMG_6305.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJfkXBZt5_bnCoR-nmobJrd9pCbDHlr1dBJalMYpyRShRkskj6DzcSDkMtBgWazaEFlJtTk-v3xUGrKHbD41M79ZTnTiWiTrhHp81Pqdje8Sb3KoaCIFStBasWaRWAbe2FWDlQ_28aorY3/s320/IMG_6305.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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2. Art<br />
The magnet that you see on the top left of the second picture above came from an art gallery in the old town that features the work of artist <a href="http://www.ali-shamsi.com/index/" target="_blank">Ali Shamsi</a>. When we ducked in, the artist himself was padding around barefoot in his studio (<a href="https://www.azernews.az/culture/89157.html" target="_blank">apparently a rare sighting</a>) as customers fawned over his gorgeous works of art. The person usually in charge of ringing up purchases had left the counter to help another customer, so I was awkwardly standing with the magnet and money in my hand when the artist himself saw me. I motioned to pay him and he immediately walked away (I wasn't too surprised, this was not exactly the procurement of a priceless canvas, which several other customers seemed to be interested in doing). But then he came back with a little envelope. He drew an impromptu little still life on the envelope to match the print on the magnet and handed it to me. Then he gave me a big smile and said something in Russian I didn't understand, but my friends translated as "You have a strong guardian angel," and he wouldn't let me pay for the magnet. So cool.<br />
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3. Food<br />
It is not difficult, I repeat, NOT difficult to be a vegetarian here so far! There is always a cucumber tomato salad or eggplant-based dish to be had. Also, the food is extremely cheap. Even outings at high end restaurants cost a fraction of what a meal would in Boston. This one (in the touristic old city) cost about $5/person including tip:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_-75yHimlLX47kAoBDW_kOHxCb05V_VXA4WYv66XcP4bzEr2XtF7g3hgbaMdgNg2VUiKHROxX-exK_kcSwp3nvXOxbX1lQ6jL66p2AOL51f87HN8T1nuC1P0OYCMRt8n-TNdWnHBWx_q/s1600/IMG_6261.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_-75yHimlLX47kAoBDW_kOHxCb05V_VXA4WYv66XcP4bzEr2XtF7g3hgbaMdgNg2VUiKHROxX-exK_kcSwp3nvXOxbX1lQ6jL66p2AOL51f87HN8T1nuC1P0OYCMRt8n-TNdWnHBWx_q/s320/IMG_6261.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<u>New travel tip:</u><br />
Bring magnets!<br />
I brought these tiny magnets on a hunch and they are definitely paying off. I'm currently using them to secure clothes to a clothesline since there are no clothespins in my air bnb. This shirt held overnight despite some gnarly wind!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65VbE67Y6dou4gDZ5oD5PBR9NleiJ2HuHUQCONbnt9-1OkPLw9QaTnaUPcMZ4AiOJbeqDG9m0Y8k26VUJCqRDEX1nz-PJFYKZZOyGsgRnnXKtIlVftzcaBMc1OxVSlbNnHdfeYuysE37p/s1600/IMG_6430.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65VbE67Y6dou4gDZ5oD5PBR9NleiJ2HuHUQCONbnt9-1OkPLw9QaTnaUPcMZ4AiOJbeqDG9m0Y8k26VUJCqRDEX1nz-PJFYKZZOyGsgRnnXKtIlVftzcaBMc1OxVSlbNnHdfeYuysE37p/s320/IMG_6430.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I also use them to secure things that I would normally use safety pins for (rolling up hemlines, etc.).<br />
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Gripes for Azerbaijan:<br />
1. The (lack of) recycling<br />
There is one recycling bin in the city: in the touristic old town center, not far from the Maiden tower. Essentially no one uses it. The big apartment buildings are at least a 30 minute walk from there, and many people would have to take the bus or subway to get there. I had generated so many plastic bottles (tap water isn't potable) that there was no way I could throw them in a dumpster. I dutifully traipsed the ~ 2k with my bulging recycling bag, much to the chagrin of my friend who had to share the strange looks we got. In true pessimistic Azeri fashion, she reminded me the whole way that they probably just toss the recycling in with the rest of the dumpster trash. The thought of all that plastic in a major capital city going directly into the environment is sickening.<br />
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2. The attitudes regarding marriage<br />
As your friendly neighborhood unmarried-and-extremely-happy 32 year old, I was appalled. I'll give you an example. Another local <a href="https://www.instagram.com/natella111/" target="_blank">friend</a>, who I'm convinced will soon be a millionaire running tours in Baku with her perfect English, shared her experience with me: "Oh yeah. If you go to any doctor with any sort of pain, their first question will be 'Are you married?' If you're not married, that's the problem. It doesn't matter if your leg is hanging off by a thread. 'If you had a husband, this wouldn't be happening.'"<br />
We are not talking about your judgmental neighborhood middle aged gripers. These are medical professionals peddling this nonsense. Grow up!<br />
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Tomorrow I leave for a short solo side trip to Georgia and on to Turkmenistan. I've been getting some very weird and sometimes overtly incredulous reactions when I've told Azeri people that I'm going to Turkmenistan. A reaction I got more than once was "Let us know when you get back safely... well, IF you get back safely." Is it really that bad? I will report back!<br />
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Books for this part of the trip: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/distancia-entre-nosotros-Espanol-Spanish/dp/1476710406" target="_blank">La distancia entre nosotros</a>, Reyna Grande. Very good. U<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Underground-Railroad-Pulitzer-Winner-National-ebook/dp/B01A4ATV0A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532087937&sr=1-1&keywords=underground+railroad" target="_blank">nderground Railroad</a>, Colson Whitehead. Horrific but I learned several new words. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Whered-You-Go-Bernadette-Novel-ebook/dp/B006L8942U/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532087957&sr=1-1&keywords=where%27d+you+go+bernadette" target="_blank">Where'd you go, Bernadette</a>, Maria Semple. Not many epistolary books these days!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-30610444593418321962018-03-23T17:54:00.002-07:002018-03-23T17:57:09.386-07:00Cartagena, Colombia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Maybe it's <a href="https://psmag.com/social-justice/theres-a-name-for-that-the-baader-meinhof-phenomenon-59670" target="_blank">Baader Meinhof</a> syndrome, but ever since I booked my trip to Colombia last year, I've been hearing about people about to go to or just getting back from its coastal port city Cartagena. No one seemed to have anything bad to say: Colombia's days as the violent drug lair of Pablo Escobar and his henchmen seem to be firmly behind it, and tourists are lapping it up.<br />
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As usual, come March, the snowy northeastern weather was getting awfully old. Boyfriend and I set off early in the morning and made it out before the third nor'easter hit!<br />
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I've said it before, but there is nothing like that first wave of heat against your sad Bostonian skin as you come off the plane in a tropical place. Colombia delivered this in a big way with its cute tarmac arrival "hallways" outside leading you from the plane to the airport itself. They were filled with hanging plants and flowers and palm trees. Had these not been permeated with the smell of exhaust and jet fuel I might have tried to hang out there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC29G1h1Q0fQ2__b-vvAf-mQDfe7QFpdoadUZi4Uqd_n8WEXcsxiRk0i_k72TH72mUHywWArIRteND_ZEccXgzxvbmWVDM1v0uf8AkpK6mcSEes8fmqWeDVGxoNLJwWbcUi_oF5jRv_ZWc/s1600/rninternairport-300x234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="234" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC29G1h1Q0fQ2__b-vvAf-mQDfe7QFpdoadUZi4Uqd_n8WEXcsxiRk0i_k72TH72mUHywWArIRteND_ZEccXgzxvbmWVDM1v0uf8AkpK6mcSEes8fmqWeDVGxoNLJwWbcUi_oF5jRv_ZWc/s1600/rninternairport-300x234.jpg" /></a></div>
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Our number one priority was to get to the beach, so after a chill arrival at our hotel (the intercontinental, known to cab drivers and locals as "el inter") we set out. The beaches in Cartagena proper are NOT the pristine ones you can find in nearby towns. Tons of cruise ships come in and out of the port, so the water is kinda muddled and the sand is brownish. Still, it was great for us since we were just getting our bearings.<br />
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Most guidebooks will tell you this, and most of you who have traveled before are used to it, but let me just say: the vendors selling trinkets on the beach and on the city streets are <b>relentless</b>. If you're walking, they run up to you, walk with you, and follow you. If you're stationary (for example, reading on a beach chair), you are a captive audience and you have no chance.<br />
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One of the vendors was selling massages on the beach. She was a lovely dark-skinned woman, rather plump, walking around with a not-so-clean-looking bucket and lotion in an unmarked tube. It was not hard to resist this massage. She introduced herself as Nico and would not stop talking to me as I politely declined her services. We actually had a nice conversation (read: she complimented me endlessly, and that was great even though I knew her motives weren't exactly altruistic). I should say here that some people suggest completely ignoring or rudely telling off these vendors, and that may be effective, but I would never do that.*<br />
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* Unless I cracked, which I did <i>once </i> and only once on this trip, in the walled city. I'll tell you later.<br />
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We are guests in the country and as Americans we have a reputation to pull out of the mud, and cussing at locals is simply not an option for me (or you). So we would just kind of constantly say "no" as we walked along. My advice is don't bother giving reasons because it will backfire. Here's an exchange I had on the last day with a vendor selling trips to an island we had already gone to:<br />
<br />
Him: Come to Bora Bora!<br />
Me: We already went, thanks. It was great.<br />
Him: So you liked it! Go again! Boats start at 9am tomorrow!<br />
Me: We're going to the airport to go home tomorrow.<br />
Him: Go tonight! See the island in the moonlight!<br />
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Anyway, we continued walking along the beach and finally sat down near a little restaurant shack. For about $50 American dollars we got ocean-side chairs for the day, lunch, and the first round of drinks, and we were ecstatic. The vendors selling águila ("eagle," the local beer) and fruity drinks were very successful with us. Pretty soon word got around that we were spending money and guess who comes back. Nico! She sits down next to us and just starts chatting but we know it's only a matter of time til she gets into business mode. Hoping to avoid that, we made clear we didn't want a massage but would be happy to buy her a drink. She seemed pretty surprised and delighted and had a beer with us, and we were just chatting about things to do in Cartagena, and it was great.<br />
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Then she says, "Well since you got me a beer I'll just give you a sample massage for free. Just your feet." This was to Boyfriend.<br />
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Thirty no's later she's rubbing his feet and he is complete mush. It apparently feels amazing and he'll spring for the paid version and "I have to try it" and it's the perfect remedy after all that cold weather and long flights and ok fine I'll get one too just a sample though and wow this is an amazing full body massage! We should probably have been concerned when Nico started confidently ordering more drinks on our tab, but we were very relaxed what with the awesome massages.<br />
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Then... oops! It's all over and we have no idea how much the massages are because we never asked. And now the service has been rendered so you can't exactly bargain.<br />
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And that's how we ended up paying about $130 US for beach side massages. Damn it Nico! Damn your strong healing hands! Boyfriend and I chalked it up as a win anyway, since we were contributing to the local economy and the price was still way less than it would have been in Boston. We ended up buying beers for all of Nico's friends and using one of her contacts to set up an excursion to one of the lovely islands with pretty beaches for the next day: Bora Bora.<br />
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<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Bora Bora</h3>
Yes we went to Bora Bora, and you better believe I'm going to let people assume that I mean the one in the South Pacific northwest of Tahiti. You, however, will have the exclusive REAL version of the story, which is that this is a one hour speedferry ride from Cartagena. On the way there we were stuck being the last ones on the ferry even though we got to the port early. This is because <b>SOMEONE</b> was buying fresh mangos from a street vendor when they opened up the boat.* Anyway so we had to sit at the very front part of ferry, the part that was uncovered in full sun and the bumpiest. An hour later, we climb off the boat, up some stairs, and onto this island:<br />
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*Me, obviously, and if I could go back in time I would still not change a <b>thing</b>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifh3lQCUVTtanQcxvFGFcjXxuH_7kZyW4k3icdL3eLDdrTB8e9udyxEwnAYvMsMGnzlmKGae4hs0LOYVjOEIM2481-Jv_OyqHF1R1tMf-WbwDzs8Ng1HtBJS7iqdMLbi0lKEItdjOUPD0R/s1600/vista-de-bora-bora-ojo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="550" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifh3lQCUVTtanQcxvFGFcjXxuH_7kZyW4k3icdL3eLDdrTB8e9udyxEwnAYvMsMGnzlmKGae4hs0LOYVjOEIM2481-Jv_OyqHF1R1tMf-WbwDzs8Ng1HtBJS7iqdMLbi0lKEItdjOUPD0R/s320/vista-de-bora-bora-ojo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There were about 30 cabana/beds and we paid an extra $20 to have one on the front row, which was totally worth it, not least of all because it came with a fruit tray. We shared the island with our boat-mates and about 2 other ferries full of people for a total of about... oh I don't know, maybe 50 people total? So it wasn't completely off the grid but still pretty amazing. And there were only <i>two</i> vendors total. One selling jewelry in a very chill "you come to me I won't come to you" way, and another guy who rolled up in a tiny dinghy boat with his wares: live lobsters that he had just plucked from the seabed. Boyfriend has always said he dislikes running and will avoid it like the plague when I go out for jogs or sign up for races, but I am here to tell you he moved <i>so fast</i> trying to get to that lobster salesman that I believe he has been training behind my back for just such an occasion. I'm sure we were supposed to bargain here again, but the fisherman said about $50 usd for a big old lobster and honestly it was worth it to have fresh lobster on the beach. So we pick out the one Boyfriend wants, the fisherman leaves, and about 45 minutes later he paddles up with a fully cooked lobster on the prow of his ship on a little paper plate which was quite a site for someone who has only seen lobster served in fancy restaurants. Anyway it was apparently the best lobster Boyfriend has ever had and worth every penny.<br />
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Lunch is included in this little getaway (dinghy lobster is extra as you already know), and it was very nice: fish, coconut rice, fried plantains, just generally yummy stuff. They also had vegetarian options!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXZvmqiI_pvHWk5I5Ku0XJEgs4OdMxYtOM513SL2SrRwMznf60QIpiYCM5c8ALyXxDkadrddyp5t6u9VIxKBPlWTtut5UPXFh9h6CoOMLK9v7ieKD97krezpqtNV5TdUF8W3iRrIwa1Q7/s1600/IMG_5574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXZvmqiI_pvHWk5I5Ku0XJEgs4OdMxYtOM513SL2SrRwMznf60QIpiYCM5c8ALyXxDkadrddyp5t6u9VIxKBPlWTtut5UPXFh9h6CoOMLK9v7ieKD97krezpqtNV5TdUF8W3iRrIwa1Q7/s320/IMG_5574.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unsuccessfully trying not to be obnoxious and smug.</td></tr>
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On our way back, we made sure to get Prime Seats on the boat this time so we were one of the first ones on. We sat toward the back with full shade. Then the captain comes back to our rows and says that we should keep in mind that it's not his fault if we get wet since the way back is going "against the waves," as he put it.<br />
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"Getting wet" turned out to be the understatement of the trip. This was a ferry but it still went fast, and we were therefore getting smacked with massive walls of sea spray at about 500mph (yeah yeah not really but still). Here are the phases we, the 8 people in the last rows, went through on that one hour boat ride:<br />
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Phase 1 (first 5 minutes): laughing and shrieking<br />
Phase 2 (next 5 minutes): covering faces with hats and making jokes about these being Prime Seats<br />
Phase 3 (next 10 minutes): absolutely soaked, eyes burning with sea water, making tense jokes that we should put on our goggles and snorkles<br />
Phase 4: (next 5 minutes) putting on goggles and snorkels, incredulously laughing about it<br />
Phase 5: (remaining 40 minutes of ride) grimly staring ahead through goggles, getting absolutely pummeled by thick sea spray seeming spewed out by Poseidon himself, just making out the silhouettes of the people sitting up front in the "bad seats" (they seem to be pointing in our direction and laughing... surely we don't look ridiculous: soaked to the bone, wearing goggles and snorkels, while sitting on a boat, right?), heatedly saying "never again" under our breath, pondering Colombian maritime law and the likelihood of qualifying for a multi-million dollar settlement, etc.<br />
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Really though, it was fine. The whole day was awesome. I just suggest sitting in the back on the way there and way WAY in the front on the way back.<br />
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If you think you get a picture of us during that debacle, the answer is a firm "You are no longer my friend." Also we tried but it would have been like taking your phone out underwater so no go.<br />
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There transpired a small detail here that I will tell you personally if you like but should not be added to the blog.<br />
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
A bit further out - castles and convents</h3>
The next day we hired a fabulous cab driver (contact info below) to take us on a jam-packed day since we wanted to see lots of historical things and famous places but also go to another famous beach called Baru. We started out a bit further away from the center of town, making our way to "the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castillo_San_Felipe_de_Barajas" target="_blank">castle</a>" which is really a fortress. As fortresses go I would say it is "average." If you're a detail-oriented history nut you will go positively crazy for it; if you're not you'll do an obligatory lap and check it off your list and move on.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxDvqsigAPBeP3NDpP7WnIkpRL666c6Pj-xQLUneLLMsVa8gj2JxHWqH3CNvJ_JRKFsejfp4oUEdR2A-btyjARE0p1Cwuhv6ztvEdyD-vfBZ5Js4xPhfB_cQeJtFXT0DfI-VAyjUXX0Ui/s1600/IMG_5594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxDvqsigAPBeP3NDpP7WnIkpRL666c6Pj-xQLUneLLMsVa8gj2JxHWqH3CNvJ_JRKFsejfp4oUEdR2A-btyjARE0p1Cwuhv6ztvEdyD-vfBZ5Js4xPhfB_cQeJtFXT0DfI-VAyjUXX0Ui/s320/IMG_5594.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The words "fortress turret" can be rearranged to spell Surfer Trotters, and I think we can all agree that's crucial.</td></tr>
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We then went to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convento_de_la_Popa" target="_blank">La Popa</a>. I recommend going to this beautiful former convent because it has an amazing view of Cartagena, and a vast collection of (of course!) bills from what must be every country in the world displayed on the walls.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQ0W3tQrBk1xG9m1E2tBneVAkgBWIIykKLDmccC94OGdSd3_AiKE0c_1OoBsyWm8J-73FbVnTHkgXJJJSf8gojIrKf4cY2zH6x2CsWklaJxHmZdJWHOXz9YeEX1NZ8i7IaxmyQVubZ7k7/s1600/Convento_de_Santa_Cruz_de_la_Popa_-_Cartagena.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQ0W3tQrBk1xG9m1E2tBneVAkgBWIIykKLDmccC94OGdSd3_AiKE0c_1OoBsyWm8J-73FbVnTHkgXJJJSf8gojIrKf4cY2zH6x2CsWklaJxHmZdJWHOXz9YeEX1NZ8i7IaxmyQVubZ7k7/s400/Convento_de_Santa_Cruz_de_la_Popa_-_Cartagena.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Popa</td></tr>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
The walled city</h3>
From there we went to spend some day time in the old town, aka the <a href="http://www.travelingsolemates.com/colombia-the-walled-city-of-old-cartagena/" target="_blank">walled city</a>. We had gone there a few times in the evenings to walk around and shop and check out restaurants that had been recommended to us (I'll include them at the end), but seeing it in the day time is a MUST! The tiny streets are bursting with colorful buildings and flowers. As you can tell by the name, there is a big wall around all of this, a remnant of when the Spanish needed to protect their (stolen) land from pirates. You can walk along the wall and even go to one of two restaurants that are located ON it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcBdAj6CNgJpg83T30tTUzLVb0-_vcTWYj1yJBsmgRbI_i5lnn7wEPpk9cDeSCcbhRaEPacPgr6gpe9ibDCe4VsJ4vJmoSj946OJbkeHnMueMoDbZQeF68RN73yQZ359NtcEUVXeFL8D6Y/s1600/IMG_5568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcBdAj6CNgJpg83T30tTUzLVb0-_vcTWYj1yJBsmgRbI_i5lnn7wEPpk9cDeSCcbhRaEPacPgr6gpe9ibDCe4VsJ4vJmoSj946OJbkeHnMueMoDbZQeF68RN73yQZ359NtcEUVXeFL8D6Y/s320/IMG_5568.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vendor in the walled city</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsdyveV6cKTcCNsPwW_xN4QRgV5sPwWxvUUQZwV8sFmA_jqVMlL_Z2wquojO7dXqWm0aJFowTw04143Jj4Ow7CXF6vorXBkWd1JhfX-H659IXeh42grNPPpBbdfxtbH9-xhpvluFQHBxq/s1600/IMG_5576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsdyveV6cKTcCNsPwW_xN4QRgV5sPwWxvUUQZwV8sFmA_jqVMlL_Z2wquojO7dXqWm0aJFowTw04143Jj4Ow7CXF6vorXBkWd1JhfX-H659IXeh42grNPPpBbdfxtbH9-xhpvluFQHBxq/s320/IMG_5576.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Locals and tourists milling around in old town. </td></tr>
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As mentioned above, it was in the walled city that I eventually broke down and sort of yelled at a vendor. I was caught off guard. We turned a corner onto a plaza and were absolutely <b>swarmed</b> by people hawking sunglasses and straw hats and jewelry and I finally erupted into a "NO!". Of course the person directly in front of me who took the brunt of this outburst was the youngest, cutest little vendor of them all (maybe 11 years old) and he quickly scurried off. I felt horribly guilty for the next few hours.<br />
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Barú</h3>
After a very full morning of site seeing and walking around, our amazing driver, Eloy, drove us the 40 minute route to the town of Barú. On our way I was chatting with the driver (Boyfriend was kind of zoning out since my countless Spanish lessons on him never really took). So I'm telling the driver my best stories, which all revolved around the fruit I had tried so far in Colombia. This is something I could easily talk about for 45-50 minutes with no interruption, but he managed to get a word in and mention that there was a street-side guanábana stand that we would be passing soon and we could stop. It was called "The Guanabana King" and they sell juice of this amazing fruit with the pulp still in it. This event may have been one of the top five happiest moments in my life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrslsj7-EJbtetwYJJ7dph13hi1fFWshRq62LRR84WXmwvT4LIVDMN0YSvlPeQ_1kiedfiLejQ4SajGtoJh7hSQOhPJPZNPbyhD5Dz5axAjzXZfUEUhlk8Nxu4U73UTYrOxaX0PHi-YBFU/s1600/IMG_5593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrslsj7-EJbtetwYJJ7dph13hi1fFWshRq62LRR84WXmwvT4LIVDMN0YSvlPeQ_1kiedfiLejQ4SajGtoJh7hSQOhPJPZNPbyhD5Dz5axAjzXZfUEUhlk8Nxu4U73UTYrOxaX0PHi-YBFU/s320/IMG_5593.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Take my money.</td></tr>
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So. Barú has amazing beaches, but it is not for the faint of heart or those traveling without a local. On the way, our driver had been telling us that there are many locals living in the town who are very poor and rely heavily on beach tourists. "That's pretty normal," we thought. No. This was different.<br />
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We roll up to the turnoff to get to the parking lot for the beach, and there are about 6 local boys (tall, very dark skinned, skinny teens, probably 16-22 years old) waving us over to talk with them. Our driver told us that these boys were pretending to be attendants for the lot, but they were actually relatives of people running restaurants on the beach with no written prices for food. Their specialty is having you order food and then telling you that your simple lunch cost about $150 usd and you can't argue because you already ate it (flashes of Nico's massage flickered through my mind, I nodded to convey my veteran wisdom in this matter). The boys corral you early on and bring you to these restaurants. So he says we're going to ignore them. This approach was fine with us. However, the teens were not too keen on it, and started yelling at him, then chasing the car, then <b><i>jumping onto the moving car </i></b>which forced our driver to stop. At this point Boyfriend and I are exchanging looks like "we're about to become combatants in a Colombian brawl," and I'm just happy my last meal was Guanabana juice. But our driver simply rolled down his window and in a voice that was insanely calm (keep in mind he is looking out his window at the stomach of a local teen who has mounted his car), said, "Get down." And the teens yelled some more, and he said, "Get down, get off the car." And they got off. And we went into the beach.<br />
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You should know that you can reach Barú from Cartagena by boat if you book with one of the excursion companies, which would circumnavigate the driving/parking/car-attacking issues.<br />
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Somewhat tense from that altercation (our driver was unfazed), boyfriend and I spent all day at a reputable place with written prices that featured a 3-step distance from the water. I don't know the name of this place, but apparently there are 3 restaurants (out of dozens) that have menus with prices on them, so just ask to see the prices before you eat and you'll be good. Maybe take a picture of them just in case.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyzjY08HLP-f11AaYwk40NiYD0AisUOUuALE-ie8y2H3lPDYXfvRqp5PNQpb882YLKvUh5S2xnrV5CSlO9EpI1ncnf08_oHKoETSqfa6YlQx2ftvgnTQlC8Ukq_b6kxOYgABJTZIkJHHoy/s1600/IMG_5567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyzjY08HLP-f11AaYwk40NiYD0AisUOUuALE-ie8y2H3lPDYXfvRqp5PNQpb882YLKvUh5S2xnrV5CSlO9EpI1ncnf08_oHKoETSqfa6YlQx2ftvgnTQlC8Ukq_b6kxOYgABJTZIkJHHoy/s320/IMG_5567.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is Barú! Worth it if you go with our driver, but if you want to completely unwind and not worry about being scammed, just go with the Bora Bora trip. </td></tr>
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Odds and ends:<br />
Did I mention that you should eat as much fruit as possible? There are all sorts of exotic fruits you've probably never heard of.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkGvkTTQ4RomralM5xT4RXwgtvH1updU05o6_z-EpliWxK-IRZB2n3KQoV-5B4TmA6lM4vmDAzJGkOz6SFYmouPt-TtN_dTxA77-5EYJH9ltJhvnOI90lHl2sMUiMJDc8KlIZuBp1Tjet/s1600/IMG_5555.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkGvkTTQ4RomralM5xT4RXwgtvH1updU05o6_z-EpliWxK-IRZB2n3KQoV-5B4TmA6lM4vmDAzJGkOz6SFYmouPt-TtN_dTxA77-5EYJH9ltJhvnOI90lHl2sMUiMJDc8KlIZuBp1Tjet/s320/IMG_5555.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga7EMh7LfAi0fcYwagDsYRw2C0rDguMuYdnYtIO1_ittVVarNpHxpTt_dX3jguWztJNBbeKZU5X9VMUy5r768LXd8TS0thKVxjvzUgED-n3DS2QHBfxMh_KBKZf1-Naq4OHJEkWDeMP90R/s1600/IMG_5556.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga7EMh7LfAi0fcYwagDsYRw2C0rDguMuYdnYtIO1_ittVVarNpHxpTt_dX3jguWztJNBbeKZU5X9VMUy5r768LXd8TS0thKVxjvzUgED-n3DS2QHBfxMh_KBKZf1-Naq4OHJEkWDeMP90R/s320/IMG_5556.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Arepas. Arepas are translated as "corn patties" and that is a massive disservice because it makes them sound strange. You need to order them (plain, with cheese, with eggs, with meat if you're gross) and eat them at least once a day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirNvVh3U2GkvEy3V0qs4LxLS3uTo1nx8tWyRH0BVLZ9CJLUAdLkq2V_dFO8lR6TuGDnCX589WLvvi3_tt56Qr6wfNtfgmwKbQV4QjlPy3X1DalwRd0Wagf_YdXyJosfnqt40aZdnQbpz2O/s1600/IMG_5577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirNvVh3U2GkvEy3V0qs4LxLS3uTo1nx8tWyRH0BVLZ9CJLUAdLkq2V_dFO8lR6TuGDnCX589WLvvi3_tt56Qr6wfNtfgmwKbQV4QjlPy3X1DalwRd0Wagf_YdXyJosfnqt40aZdnQbpz2O/s320/IMG_5577.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An arepa with fresh mango juice; this meal was about $6 usd at a fancy golf place (ask Boyfriend). I was assuming it would cost 4 times that much.</td></tr>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Suggestions:</h3>
For the Bora Bora trip: we went with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/rosariosunclub/" target="_blank">Rosario Beach Club</a>. Lunch and a boat ride to and from the island was included, all told it was less than $200 for both of us and the "VIP" row of cabanas.<br />
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Get in touch with our driver. He's super nice and tries to practice his English but if you speak Spanish it's probably better (duh). His name is Eloy and he communicates mostly with WhatsApp: +57 301 585*<br />
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*rest of number separated to avoid bot dials: 5570. He was a lifesaver with transportation but also with advice and warnings about ripoffs around town.<br />
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Go to "<a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g297476-d2011913-Reviews-Carbon_de_Palo-Cartagena_Cartagena_District_Bolivar_Department.html" target="_blank">El carbon de palo</a>" restaurant. It's not one of the fancy ones in old town (though we loved those too, try Juan del Mar and 1621); it's in the Bocagrande zone, which is where most of the hotels are. We ate here 3 nights in a row because we loved it so much. The food was amazing, the service was embarrassingly good, and they had multiple live music acts every night. The music was always chill though; think more "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdJ0KLJ3PmQ" target="_blank">quizás</a>" than mariachi-style.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimsbgnKjCq7Cdiz1mlLP1hu4vtbVJuQZwZafEaZo-uMIiiIl4883hJRt8Yf7RNL4S0dhOZcu5Mv64HNojS4cq-e-BzaZZrusdOxB-AOn3fFYpqM0NWpsJwTWKNYi7AglDyO9DsF5IsxRsH/s1600/IMG_5224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimsbgnKjCq7Cdiz1mlLP1hu4vtbVJuQZwZafEaZo-uMIiiIl4883hJRt8Yf7RNL4S0dhOZcu5Mv64HNojS4cq-e-BzaZZrusdOxB-AOn3fFYpqM0NWpsJwTWKNYi7AglDyO9DsF5IsxRsH/s320/IMG_5224.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guanábana juice and cheesy arepas at Carbon de Palo. I want to marry this situation.</td></tr>
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Get local money. Save yourself the stress of asking cab drivers if they take American money as they hold up traffic waiting for you. Things are very reasonably priced; most of our cabs to and from the walled city were $5.<br />
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Have fun and let me know what you think!<br />
xoxo<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-69587862889094659012018-01-19T07:07:00.003-08:002018-01-19T07:07:26.060-08:00January getaway: Mexico<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I. love. Mexico. I went to Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco (again!) and had a fabulous time.<br />
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This trip was even better than most. In addition to the gorgeous villa we stayed in and the yummy restaurants we visited almost every day, we also went paddle boarding (<a href="http://www.paddle-zone.com/">Paddle Zone</a> at Mismaloya beach), sailing (<a href="https://www.adasailing.com/en/">Ada sailing</a>) and whale watching. We saw at least 6 different humpback whales (some while sailing!), dolphins, manta rays, clown fish... You can see what I saw on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/manda_goes/">my Instagram</a>. There is also bonus footage of Huichol art souvenirs we got!<br />
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My favorite part was during paddle boarding. After we watched the sunset ON the water, it got dark, and our guide Beto (sweetest kid ever who did not mind falling in the water when he was backward on his board helping us navigate choppy waves) directed us under the arches of one of "los arcos," the rocky islands that had spiritual significance for the native Huichol population. He told us to put our hands in the water and agitate them a little bit, and when we did...<br />
We saw glow in the dark algae!!!<br />
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This pic is from the Maldives, but it's the same thing. Imagine the water seeming normal but around your hand there is a sphere of these tiny things orbiting magically.<br />
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Bonus adventure: we got in a minor car accident and learned that you have to stay on the scene of a fender bender until the insurance agents come out and fill out paperwork. We almost missed our flight back to Boston!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddle boarding around Los Arcos at sunset.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our fellow paddle boarders were 2 girls from Cuernavaca and 1 guy from New Zealand. I made sure to provide entertainment to our worldly group by gracefully falling off my board while shrieking wildly.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sailing trip with fresh seafood and limitless beverages: go Ada Sailing!</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-9954106240998554522017-08-15T15:21:00.001-07:002017-08-16T07:08:28.640-07:00Asia trip part 3: Japan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
From Seoul, I went early to catch my flight to Tokyo. That was lucky since every airport experience involved extra security gymnastics because the travel agent who helped with the Chinese portion of the trip also helped me with this one, and had misspelled my name on all of my tickets. Poor guy just removed any hesitation I had about letting the travel agency industry die... Anyway!<br />
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I arrived in Tokyo and my first surprise was that the smog wasn't gone. It wasn't as brutally thick as in Beijing, but it was there. Tokyo completely made up for this, however, with their A+ toilet game. I forget where I saw a reference to complicated Japanese toilets, but these things were totally understandable and awesome. It was common to have the following setup: You walk into the stall and the cover is raised automatically. The seat is heated very subtly. There is a little controller with buttons with both Japanese and English text and obvious icons. For the environmentally-conscious yet courteous users, there is a button that makes a flushing sound without actually wasting the water. Having the festering squatty potties from China still haunting my memories, I was especially impressed with these toilets and said so to every Japanese person I met, stopping just short of screaming about them in the streets.<br />
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What? You want me to talk about something other than toilets? Ummm... ok, I guess, if I must.<br />
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My main goal in Japan was to see Mount Fuji. From Tokyo, this requires a substantial drive or bullet train (Shinkansen) ride, plus renting a car once you get to the correct prefecture (Shikuoka). This can probably be finagled on your own in 4 hours for around $60, but I decided to just book a <a href="https://www.jtb.co.jp/shop/itdw/info/e/index.asp">tour</a> for $140 which included a fabulous guide, quick (2.5 hour) transportation to and from downtown Tokyo, and lunch. "Worth it" would be an understatement.<br />
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This particular tour drove us on a bus on the way <i>to</i> Mt. Fuji and we came <i>back</i> to Tokyo via bullet train. During the long (2 hours or so) drive to Shikuoka, our guide taught us Japanese <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWwXRWUYfm4">songs about Mount Fuji</a> (how cute is that one?) and answered all of our questions.<br />
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There was only one problem. It was cloudy. Like, <i>really</i> cloudy. Our guide explained that we were visiting during the rainy season, and chances of seeing the mountain clearly were about 1 in 5. ONE in FIVE! Strange how they never tell you these things when you're booking... Sure enough, I checked instagram for #mtfuji and saw lots of videos and stories of people trying to see it but just filming clouds.<br />
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As we continued the drive, though, our guide stopped short in the middle of an explanation and almost shrieked, "There it is!" We were on the highway, but sure enough, you could see Mt. Fuji in the background, between clouds. Even on a gray day, speeding along the highway, it was stunning. The guide told us we might as well try to grab some pictures from the bus, since the clouds could easily swallow it up for the rest of the day. We did, and kept driving toward our first stop, the observation deck of a nearby mountain which had some great views, weather permitting, of Fuji.<br />
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We arrived at the base of the mountain next door (Kachi Kachi) and took the cable car up to the observation deck. A pre-recorded message was blasted to us in English in a creepy baby voice with details about the height of the mountain we were scaling, etc. We funneled out and looked around: all cloudy. Resigned to our nebulous fate, we made our way to the observation deck... and... guess what?!?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZOWhr0QJTuALocGn6TF6p4EXORWgxJieJr1sMCXVM4sIl5aFeaYx8M_DsmdAnm1wbKb1g_UU7p1vy-IAP18l2psPqG9CW67mqWKx2SmKs_sRFSpWQr-S2Mx0j2MPzz8p8QVTajGhl0ovB/s1600/20258242_10102562638019914_306282970630212586_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZOWhr0QJTuALocGn6TF6p4EXORWgxJieJr1sMCXVM4sIl5aFeaYx8M_DsmdAnm1wbKb1g_UU7p1vy-IAP18l2psPqG9CW67mqWKx2SmKs_sRFSpWQr-S2Mx0j2MPzz8p8QVTajGhl0ovB/s320/20258242_10102562638019914_306282970630212586_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We saw it!!!!!<br />
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Now that I think back at how elated we all were, I wonder if the guides always tell people they probably won't see Fuji so they feel extra special when they do. Cynicism aside, I was freaking pumped. As if that wasn't cool enough, there were doggos up there too.<br />
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Then I forced some Argentinians to take a handstand pic for me and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BXDWVS5BG7W/?taken-by=manda_goes">they got it</a> on the first try. By this point I was in a euphoric daze and went into the gift shop to promptly buy every single thing. When I regained full consciousness I was on the bus, surrounded by shopping bags and wondering where things like a Year of the Snake luck charm that were now in my possession had come from. On a related note, does anyone born in 1977 or 1989 or 2001 need a good luck charm? I had great luck that day, it will probably win you the lottery.<br />
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The tour also included a visit to Mount Fuji itself; specifically, the "5th station," a sort of mid-mountain camp with hot food and facilities for aching, tired climbers who had spent days getting there and were desperate for rest and a moment of zen before continuing their journey to the top. They made a prime audience for me as I hopped spryly from our tour bus and started proselytizing about the toilets.<br />
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The final part of the tour (it just kept going!) was a boat tour of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Ashi">Lake Ashi</a>, and here our group shared the outing with other tour groups. So we had about 80 people on the boat, right? And it was cloudy again, so instead of taking in the theoretical views that were being described, I had time to people watch a bit. And guess what? There was 1, ONE, other person traveling alone. Out of all the large tour groups coming to see a wonder of the world, almost 100% of them were in groups. Families, retirees, mid-life couples... I knew traveling alone was rare, but this is when it actually set it that I was doing something strange. And of course the guy was Australian so does it even count? They travel in their sleep. Way to go Australians!<br />
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With Mt. Fuji off the checklist, I spent the next few days wandering around Tokyo, eating sushi and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmEh-1pK87Y\">avoiding peak metro times</a>. I had booked an air bnb in the Akasaka neighborhood, which was close to lots of parks (got in a few jogs!) and subway connections to downtown.<br />
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I had spent a little less than a month in Asia and was ready to come home. Now I'm back in Boston, and the school year will be starting soon, so no travel until... oh wait. This weekend :) I'm going to Jamaica for my cousin's wedding (Congrats Max and Alanna!!!).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello Kitty was still everywhere.</td></tr>
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<u>Book for this portion of the trip</u>: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/SuperFreakonomics-Cooling-Patriotic-Prostitutes-Insurance-ebook/dp/B002R2OFGY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1502831661&sr=8-1&keywords=superfreakonomics">SuperFreakonomics</a> by Levitt and Dubner. I read the original ages ago and this one is just as entertaining. Good for enabling you to bring up random facts during conversations that have almost fizzled out.<br />
<u>Neighborhood I stayed in</u>: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akasaka,_Tokyo">Akasaka</a><br />
<u>Tour company for Mount Fuji visit</u>: <a href="https://www.jtb.co.jp/shop/itdw/info/e/index.asp">Sunrise tours</a>. You can be picked up at a hotel for free and driven to the place where another bus takes you on the actual tour.<br />
<u>A place I didn't go but lots of people were talking about</u>: Okinawa, famous for crystal clear waters above coral reefs. This is kinda the Japanese version of Hawaii: far away from the mainland but sought after due to the fact that it is an absolute tropical paradise. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-39613347633831906162017-07-24T23:58:00.002-07:002017-08-03T05:02:32.576-07:00Asia trip part 2: Seoul, South Korea<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My favorite!<br />
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After the growing pains of experiencing China with a group of 14 adults (and their strong personalities) and days scheduled from 6:45am to 9:30pm, I was more than ready to get back to solo travel mode and to my next destination: Seoul.<br />
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As loyal readers may recall, my couchsurf hosting days in Dallas have already paid dividends. The good times just keep rolling, though. I contacted two of my South Korean guests from back in 2010 (!) and both of them delivered big time. One had moved to Canada (hi Ko!) but gave me the Kakao talk (Korea's version of text/whatsapp) of an awesome Korean girl who was willing to chat with me over dinner (hi Na Rae!), which was really nice. Thanks to Na Rae I also got the inside scoop on the K-beauty scene, which resulted in a bit of a binge. In case you don't know what I'm talking about, Koreans have the most impressive beauty regimens and products in the entire world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFlca-LfM2oZJlSj2J-gelqfU7GePj3TpPXTd9PoqwxYqIqrVNj_SfQvyDHHJgfqKCiNzI6fE2DrHMMCvMXoDVxU72ysF1JmKqeG-x5Y9ISosLnkudy7tJR6yxvrARsWLRpzoISXLVmFo/s1600/IMG_2909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFlca-LfM2oZJlSj2J-gelqfU7GePj3TpPXTd9PoqwxYqIqrVNj_SfQvyDHHJgfqKCiNzI6fE2DrHMMCvMXoDVxU72ysF1JmKqeG-x5Y9ISosLnkudy7tJR6yxvrARsWLRpzoISXLVmFo/s400/IMG_2909.JPG" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note that I did not say "Korean women." Korean men are absolutely in on this and there are aisles and aisles of men's products in every shop. There is also a LOT of make-up marketed toward men. Probably because of K-pop.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrY19-KumjveM9_jw3d_LvSgBIHnyu7AQYLIwig1BGIpqBgL9ph14czPwk5uPJSsKUlpZ-jr_8EEQ1gCACyLGwEfYkhavtiCDqABkETw9ld-wRqbr-AXBzx-hA6YHylYlfto4lq5XrKYtP/s1600/kpop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1548" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrY19-KumjveM9_jw3d_LvSgBIHnyu7AQYLIwig1BGIpqBgL9ph14czPwk5uPJSsKUlpZ-jr_8EEQ1gCACyLGwEfYkhavtiCDqABkETw9ld-wRqbr-AXBzx-hA6YHylYlfto4lq5XrKYtP/s640/kpop.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Majorly famous <b><i>boy</i></b> band BTS, K-pop pros</td></tr>
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The beauty obsession has a dark side though: a fixation with plastic surgery. Especially in the trendy Gangnam area, you will see dozens of buildings, each of which has dozens of floors, each of which houses several plastic surgery clinics.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A subway ad in the Gangnam area, one of many.</td></tr>
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Additionally, before I stray too far from Kakao talk: <a href="https://www.kakaofriends.com/en/etc/charInfo">their emojis</a> have absolutely taken over Korea. Anything with a flat surface has been branded with these adorable little characters.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6E2Vm8xWscD5ip9EvG6xtgf2edTlLhjzshdWtbjyOnXTV0BVaTAA1Mk8ECd46d8szogHZEklcLjzqxWAW2XI-FcRiVPLKQCmNX48pEtWT52QrzQUsztbOZGI7sFNmPLj7IJAmNBwldrtc/s1600/IMG_2910.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6E2Vm8xWscD5ip9EvG6xtgf2edTlLhjzshdWtbjyOnXTV0BVaTAA1Mk8ECd46d8szogHZEklcLjzqxWAW2XI-FcRiVPLKQCmNX48pEtWT52QrzQUsztbOZGI7sFNmPLj7IJAmNBwldrtc/s320/IMG_2910.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLjMxJJ4Er2r055nisuo3ySzq66w2UwlMAqNm_jxMMOxHfg0SchDs_sQBnEHI8EcCcxj6QRMYvKFGzfjVr7nsMyEdcZK1CY-BkV2L6duIzQ2mNutCySIVsv5cxsDczq_37hZcfl2FaIdd/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLjMxJJ4Er2r055nisuo3ySzq66w2UwlMAqNm_jxMMOxHfg0SchDs_sQBnEHI8EcCcxj6QRMYvKFGzfjVr7nsMyEdcZK1CY-BkV2L6duIzQ2mNutCySIVsv5cxsDczq_37hZcfl2FaIdd/s320/IMG_3144.JPG" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_Tql8XLcLmzgJSk2QvWkEpdKLLNiLycsCzdQWqCnWFgZWgIWCub1x__J1A6-ekegMZrdaR9bvAmtVBF66Y5xWmwAFJQWGvvzRa3U0eEiC2xvHS7fMtFZxkArNSrDdF2HgsHdx7Brx5oW/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_Tql8XLcLmzgJSk2QvWkEpdKLLNiLycsCzdQWqCnWFgZWgIWCub1x__J1A6-ekegMZrdaR9bvAmtVBF66Y5xWmwAFJQWGvvzRa3U0eEiC2xvHS7fMtFZxkArNSrDdF2HgsHdx7Brx5oW/s200/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Please stop everything. I just read the bio for Apeach (the character featured above) and this is it, verbatim, from the Kakao Friends website: "<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "apple sd gothic neo" , "applesdgothicneo" , "malgun gothic" , "맑은 고딕" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -1px;">APEACH is a genetically modified peach that left the orchard to seek adventure. This playful and wild creature is not afraid to show off its backside, which may remind you of something other than a peach." </span>I just needed you all to know that. You probably want to see its <a href="https://www.google.co.jp/search?q=apeach&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjf-LyH76PVAhXFVLwKHR3iCUYQ_AUICigB&biw=1154&bih=593">backside</a> now, which I cannot confirm being a safe for work search but I did the hard part for you.<br />
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Speaking of adorable, here is a side by side comparison of the Boston and Seoul metro cards.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlmUaIo51x8pK4ty3aF9haHYt2q-H3K9nsFyv7Q9DEPcJNX4Tu_gGUhhfa-Ck3OCKOwJmlaC3Mr2siZr6EKrPrrT6qCOaKOsBZDB7YMj9exIUDTPzVd9BrFEfr2ovIVNLOazm99KXlfx1/s1600/IMG_2851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlmUaIo51x8pK4ty3aF9haHYt2q-H3K9nsFyv7Q9DEPcJNX4Tu_gGUhhfa-Ck3OCKOwJmlaC3Mr2siZr6EKrPrrT6qCOaKOsBZDB7YMj9exIUDTPzVd9BrFEfr2ovIVNLOazm99KXlfx1/s200/IMG_2851.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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Ok where were we? Oh yeah my second Korean friend. Jong Min (hi!) was in Seoul when I was, and helped me get the most out of my visit with some clutch advice and guided wanderings. We started with a tour of the famous local market. This was a brief tour because this market was, to put it delicately, not "vegetarian friendly". You can imagine for yourself the types of horrific "food" that were on display but this is a family blog (notwithstanding the NSFW apeach) so I won't be describing it for you.<br />
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The major tourist destinations in Seoul are sprawling palaces with names that you won't even be able to finish <i>trying </i>to say because you'll be laughing at your own incompetence too hard (Gyeongbokgung is the most famous, we started with Changdeokgung; when Korean people say these it sounds like one syllable). After visiting Changdeokgung in the afternoon heat, I mentioned that it would be cool to see Gyeongbokgung (although quite honestly... these palaces might just fall into the "seen one seen 'em all" category for all but the most obsessive historians). Jong Min broke the bad news: I happened to be in Seoul during the two weeks of the year during which Gyeongbokgung palace is closed during the day and open at night for a special show; the tickets for the show had sold out two weeks ago. Luckily, Jong Min is a boss and called the palace to see what we could get in, and it turned out there was a simple solution: foreigners are allowed to purchase tickets on a first come, first served basis. Korean citizens were not allowed to visit unless they had booked in advance! Seriously. So we got there before they opened, I bought two tickets for $3 each and gave one to Jong Min and we went right in.<br />
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Side note: there is one other way to get into the palace - wear a Hanbok [the 'k' is silent, 'hanh-bo']. These are traditional Korean costumes and visitors can rent them and wear them around for enhanced <strike>instagramming</strike> site-seeing. A rental will set you back $10 and includes hair and makeup.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjriVUFJNZaw9sJwA-KyQoE8ZZTzwHQYYEW6hUE5rZkiHYf9IAu0HkiH9GCvmqJZDE5g2u8motFLtht6_JRJQBNdj8rxpr8bzfNJlh53-L3ouNvdGl-Zl3tDukBoHPSU8hl1kijzDdxgUHX/s1600/HanbokPhotoshootInStudio_16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjriVUFJNZaw9sJwA-KyQoE8ZZTzwHQYYEW6hUE5rZkiHYf9IAu0HkiH9GCvmqJZDE5g2u8motFLtht6_JRJQBNdj8rxpr8bzfNJlh53-L3ouNvdGl-Zl3tDukBoHPSU8hl1kijzDdxgUHX/s320/HanbokPhotoshootInStudio_16.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From http://funtastickorea.com/m</td></tr>
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Jong Min asked me several times if I wanted to wear one and each time I questioned our friendship because I firmly believed that this is something only a clinically insane person would do. Can you imagine dressing up like a puritan to walk around Boston? But the Hanbok rentals are actually wildly popular. Hundreds of young, cute people were doing it and I admit that the stigma had kind of dropped away by the end of my trip. Still, I just couldn't get on board. I think the 100 degree heat had something to do with it as well.<br />
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Anywaaaaay if you wear a Hanbok you can get into Gyeongbokgung for free, but in the fine print of this agreement it says that you still have to book tickets in advance. On our way out from the palace we saw lots of Hanbok-wearing people looking pre-tty outraged that they couldn't get in. Don't forget that the tickets cost $3 each.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHmNxlvWROI3rv3u4_QD78IxJgQzlJRT6wOr5OnvBhE8IYdKjPegbJ5W1wW19t4dp6G8sbMyYX6uidtrKLEtnwtPVP_bggrSxQS_eRS5wERGUd6h0IU2Y8ceHx-GrtjeV0ajGrm_i8ouk/s1600/IMG_2970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHmNxlvWROI3rv3u4_QD78IxJgQzlJRT6wOr5OnvBhE8IYdKjPegbJ5W1wW19t4dp6G8sbMyYX6uidtrKLEtnwtPVP_bggrSxQS_eRS5wERGUd6h0IU2Y8ceHx-GrtjeV0ajGrm_i8ouk/s320/IMG_2970.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely Hanbok-wearing girls. I admit they make for great pictures. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Mf8jHfmjX7tlmreBi9qcaYomupJEp2eg8ZBRqR069y0cKpCVlWh5fK8meQH3mVVP2nUMqVLl017b9-qFzqK5hpHVEP4Lpc293BAbsfudmz-VqtvOQaGZq1w9iGVY9vWF3yDhBxOHnQCM/s1600/IMG_2968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Mf8jHfmjX7tlmreBi9qcaYomupJEp2eg8ZBRqR069y0cKpCVlWh5fK8meQH3mVVP2nUMqVLl017b9-qFzqK5hpHVEP4Lpc293BAbsfudmz-VqtvOQaGZq1w9iGVY9vWF3yDhBxOHnQCM/s320/IMG_2968.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is an egregious example of the Confucian-style gates, seen in Changdeokgung </td></tr>
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So Jong Min and I had an awesome time strolling around the grounds of Gyeongbokgung, and we even got to see the show they put on with one of the ancient buildings serving as a stage. There were traditional instruments, Italian opera (?!), plenty of singing and dancing... but my favorite part was a troupe of female drummers. Jong Min takes awesome pictures (his <a href="http://blog.naver.com/tamilnadu">blog</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/d22380/">instagram</a> here) and some of these (the good ones) are from him.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvdrlN4hVtoJrqEOVq3UB4GuqPG9PBRAu-zWT1hC0EE1XJLNC4jJ-wSFMnYkQiZBPnqM0qiWqRihavb4C9V-mwGq5lodv-AUWs0FCciIFk8OCXyXq-HaqY83lEq7IFLxVHLDvlDwcG6wsu/s1600/IMG_3113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvdrlN4hVtoJrqEOVq3UB4GuqPG9PBRAu-zWT1hC0EE1XJLNC4jJ-wSFMnYkQiZBPnqM0qiWqRihavb4C9V-mwGq5lodv-AUWs0FCciIFk8OCXyXq-HaqY83lEq7IFLxVHLDvlDwcG6wsu/s320/IMG_3113.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drummers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzs8crebHXkruXT_oSuhZOKJrs3QD2BfXRm02U8u9E45cwsVa3uI8ubbbCGkjeWjYrqAr8L9E_h0aLs22kffV8XtelWtltn2WvrxONq3jkVuthrB7B6aCibCdT80r2aTtBbG-MBCHIdvot/s1600/IMG_3114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzs8crebHXkruXT_oSuhZOKJrs3QD2BfXRm02U8u9E45cwsVa3uI8ubbbCGkjeWjYrqAr8L9E_h0aLs22kffV8XtelWtltn2WvrxONq3jkVuthrB7B6aCibCdT80r2aTtBbG-MBCHIdvot/s320/IMG_3114.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lotus of dancers</td></tr>
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So thanks to my generous guides, Seoul was my favorite place to visit!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xxmO6mf_ZuuTwx7vpUSe1lEWmzrJRTXyLTCXryzffE-WAVQrtAVEEs9lhyNhmg6qeXP0OeQ5G9YS3he9c9nn90hXtcn3aD6hXKCcFdQ_b5cTGLNwLbu3hHWqa2uNUyeB9idUuPDTqGT4/s1600/IMG_3107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="838" data-original-width="1600" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xxmO6mf_ZuuTwx7vpUSe1lEWmzrJRTXyLTCXryzffE-WAVQrtAVEEs9lhyNhmg6qeXP0OeQ5G9YS3he9c9nn90hXtcn3aD6hXKCcFdQ_b5cTGLNwLbu3hHWqa2uNUyeB9idUuPDTqGT4/s640/IMG_3107.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gyeongbokgung palace at sunset</td></tr>
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<u>Book for this part of the trip</u>: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B004G8QTU2/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1">Fall on your knees</a> by Ann-Marie McDonald. Tough tough tough. It made Oprah's book club but jesus christ it's depressing.<br />
<u>I stayed at</u>: Mapo, a cute neighborhood right next to the Han river. However, I would recommend staying in Gangnam, since that's where the biggest shopping/restaurant scene is.<br />
<u>Note</u>: When you first arrive in Seoul, you will need to get Korean cash since the subway card machines don't take credit cards. I used the subway several times a day for 5 days and spent about $17 total on it. Most shops do take cards though. I would go to the 7-11 in the airport, buy a subway card at the counter, get cash at the global atm next door, then go to the subway machine and load the card with cash.<br />
<u>Another note</u>: Google maps is not optimized in SK. I was looking for a store and googled it and it showed that there was one 2 towns over. I asked Na Rae and she said there was one ON THE SAME STREET that I was on, and sure enough a few blocks down there it was, with nary a mention on the google map. Kakao talk has a navigation app which is very thorough but the slight hiccup is that it's only in Korean. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-47272640029700389862017-07-24T00:41:00.001-07:002018-02-22T11:34:33.566-08:00Asia trip part 1: China<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Celebrating the 4th of July in Boston has generally been a hit or miss experience for me.<br />
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My first one was pretty bad. I was trying to show my friend Katie*, visiting from New York City, that we patriots in Boston, well... we do things big here. I knew there were fireworks on the Charles River at night and an elaborate outdoor concert before that, so I obviously took her there. What I didn't know was that everyone in a 500 mile radius has the same plan, and they all generally want to sit in the same 16 inch square of geese-poop-ridden grass that you managed to scout for yourself because you were too ignorant to get there at 8am. Katie was about as traumatized as I was by this experience, and we had to resort to going to one of Boston's few dance clubs to drink away the distress. This culminated in us spilling out of the club and Katie demanding pizza, finding a place open at 2:30am, then Katie hitting on a 16 year old boy who worked there ("I LIKE IT SAUCY!!!"). I managed to save him by pulling her away as I gasped for air from laughing so hard and we ate our pizza on the lid of a street trashcan. Someone driving by yelled "Hey Oscar the grouch!" and we didn't have much to come back with. Let's call that one a miss.<br />
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<i>*names have been changed to preserve the dignity of certain individuals</i><br />
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The next year I was dating a doctor who had fancy rich friends, so I watched the fireworks from a rooftop penthouse overlooking the river on Marlborough street while sipping $400 champagne and eating all the food because apparently that crowd had too much tact to shove me away from it. Hit.<br />
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THIS time, I did the most unpatriotic 4th of July thing I can think of: I went to China.<br />
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I went with a group of 14 masters and doctoral students, plus a wise Chinese professor from my PhD department. The trip was mostly comprised of meetings and presentations to justify the degree credits I was getting for it, but they also allowed us a precious few touristy outings, including visits to Tiananmen Square, The Forbidden City, The Great Wall, and the Summer Palace.<br />
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Some initial "whoa this is not America" moments:<br />
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>The smog is no joke. It was very hard to tell if it was about to pour rain or just a high pollution day. Apparently it gets exponentially worse in the winter, when the coal plants kick on to provide energy to heat the cities. I wore my pollution mask pretty religiously, even though most of our group gave up on the concept because it's also HOT (imagine being hot and sweaty and covering half your face in cloth that you then exhale your hot humid breath into). </li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sup</td></tr>
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<li>The toilets: I knew that toilets weren't great in China. But I didn't know how awful they were. The squatty potty element is fine once you are used to it (not going into details here, but let's just say one word: aim). The real problem is, you don't flush ANYthing down the toilet. Not even toilet paper. The vast majority of bathrooms have no toilet paper at all, which raises some very serious personal hygiene questions for me. We had been forewarned so we brought cute little personal toilet tissue packs, but what did Chinese people do? Just not wipe? I'm so confused. Now, where do you put the tp (and any other female products) when you're done? You can't flush it. So there is an open trash can in each stall. WITH USED TOILET PAPER IN IT. Now is also a good time to mention that there is no AC anywhere except the fanciest hotels, so these cans just sit there all day in 100 degree heat. I am not exaggerating when I say that I am shocked the whole continent hasn't dropped dead from Typhoid fever. Bathroom visits were not the girls' event they are in the US: go in a group, chat, refresh your makeup... no. They were like entering a war zone right before your side gives up. Or Dante's <i>Inferno</i>. </li>
<li>The manners: ah, the real reason I kept my pollution mask on. There was no sense of courtesy when it came to personal habits. People sneezed into the open air in front of them, coughed on whoever was in their general vicinity, passed gas with alarming volume and duration. I had to seriously fight my impulse to scold people like a schoolmarm. I wanted to ask, rhetorically, how a country with the biggest population in the world could ever succeed with everyone sneezing on each other. Instead I put my mask on and kept it on. </li>
<li>The t-shirt slogans. English is big here; understanding it, not so much. One middle-aged woman was wearing a shirt that said "Punch me in the face," and I'm relatively sure that's not what she actually wanted to happen. A little girl was wearing a shirt that said "You f*'n a*hole," which prompted one of our group members to pose for a picture with her. This led to one of the most controversial moments on the trip: eventually the girl got suspicious of all the attention and someone in our group asked our translator to explain why. He did. The girl started crying. Our group tried to console her but the damage was done. Where did this go wrong? Should we not have said anything and let the poor thing wear that shirt without knowing its expletive-filled meaning? She certainly would have been happier that way and may have never had any issue with it in the future. I'm still not sure of how that should have been handled. </li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3DwBTsrdRt8k_KQANZFmOYqQKliN55oL6fkreHdWMCRGUAOV2eXXlxCNsfH2NXGWaEEAGp8y83iqc6wfys4M4VtZ752BCyaY9N66uYUdEPdIe4o3EfPWy3grEcRRoFYOTIjxr0FLBWS_/s1600/IMG_2413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3DwBTsrdRt8k_KQANZFmOYqQKliN55oL6fkreHdWMCRGUAOV2eXXlxCNsfH2NXGWaEEAGp8y83iqc6wfys4M4VtZ752BCyaY9N66uYUdEPdIe4o3EfPWy3grEcRRoFYOTIjxr0FLBWS_/s320/IMG_2413.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div>
But if you think you can manage that, China makes for an amazing trip. </div>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Tiananmen Square</h3>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I was only 3 years old and far from Beijing when Chinese
students demonstrated for human rights in Tiananmen Square in 1989. Still, I
grew up with periodic reminders of the tragic end to that peaceful protest. Even
in America, there were intermittent references to and reprints of “Tank Man,”
the anonymous protestor bravely yet casually standing unarmed in front of a
government tank that day. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhndP9x5lc0YR6IuzOMFRn0MDcHTnSSazddRAIJLszYct0B575VGG9Rx214VEqTgYmqbMVBAzqcrUF3TCjZCoFmio3NsHZ70aHiO2eygmN6j_r29jwWl9SN8hJYkzueDMxvCMTRbaGSmeHM/s1600/time-100-influential-photos-jeff-widener-tank-man-81-social.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhndP9x5lc0YR6IuzOMFRn0MDcHTnSSazddRAIJLszYct0B575VGG9Rx214VEqTgYmqbMVBAzqcrUF3TCjZCoFmio3NsHZ70aHiO2eygmN6j_r29jwWl9SN8hJYkzueDMxvCMTRbaGSmeHM/s320/time-100-influential-photos-jeff-widener-tank-man-81-social.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Magazines like National Geographic and Time elevated
the photo to icon status, drawing comparisons between current events (such as
<a href="http://media1.s-nbcnews.com/i/newscms/2016_28/1142342/ieshiaevans-protest-tease-today-160711_2a9d09577bc3dbbbee11299308892cf7.jpg">Ieshia Evans standing peacefully for the Black Lives Matter movement</a> in front of
Louisiana state troopers in riot gear in 2016). It was humbling to be in that
exact place in Beijing, but also a sobering reminder of the power of the
government: an enormous portrait of chairman Mao still presides over the space,
and surveillance cameras record visitors’ every move. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5NaeGpFckLgirvIJ8B2bJ6IDlYM59kKAEJWhKLEzZTkgR92jnPwGT1k2xxmiyZgz9IlWgSPA3Hu0kYng8pw0X2grULJI6RtuS3mukngfjsVTHmM7N85xhyAUuIy0AFRASmV2QpJG9Com/s1600/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252820%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5NaeGpFckLgirvIJ8B2bJ6IDlYM59kKAEJWhKLEzZTkgR92jnPwGT1k2xxmiyZgz9IlWgSPA3Hu0kYng8pw0X2grULJI6RtuS3mukngfjsVTHmM7N85xhyAUuIy0AFRASmV2QpJG9Com/s320/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252820%2529.jpg" width="310" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It’s clear that the fight
for freedom of expression in China has not made great strides since 1989.
Indeed, there is no mention of the protests in that well-known square, even
though they were and continue to be significant on a global scale. The "great firewall of China," means that online searches for any references to Tiananmen square, tank man, or similar events lead to blank pages. I have Chinese students in Boston who said they had never known the protest existed until they left China. (Fast forward to a later part of the trip: I ask a Chinese teacher who is about my age what she thought of the death of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liu_Xiaobo">Liu Xiabao</a>. She didn't know what I was talking about. We thought it was a translation issue so she gave me her phone and I typed in his name. Nothing. It was absolutely eerie.). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was floored when several Americans in our group asked what the significance of the place was, though. Now that I think about it, I guess we didn't really learn about modern Chinese history in school. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
The Forbidden City</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Built to house the Ming dynasty in the 1400s, this place was home to emperors until the very last one (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puyi">Puyi</a>, duh) peacefully stepped
down to make way for the Chinese revolution in the early 1900s. Walking
unchecked throughout the palace is even more impressive when you stop to
consider that entire areas of the city were accessible only to the emperor less than a hundred years ago (hence, "forbidden" to commoners). As such, elaborate stairways and fountains that may in
the past have only been closely seen by the most powerful man in China are
today climbed on by adventurous children and featured in countless tourist
selfies. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRADzHMaVOakn03g4Xt30vQWxZ5g74VOxqNGzlcvlD7F7WhLg8auyRwT1iJ_weaE7wn_hY5AB8dqqw8ioOQpf_NE20z_uf8aEiy6kuYsoGglDnJVqnGJZYhUyYIXsdwXoikgofQFOv-Xfn/s1600/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252846%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRADzHMaVOakn03g4Xt30vQWxZ5g74VOxqNGzlcvlD7F7WhLg8auyRwT1iJ_weaE7wn_hY5AB8dqqw8ioOQpf_NE20z_uf8aEiy6kuYsoGglDnJVqnGJZYhUyYIXsdwXoikgofQFOv-Xfn/s320/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252846%2529.jpg" width="256" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAYP3N6Ch8uE_FpZWe9aati6YcMD9vWwSicPJLa7rbqQlfv-BJWxDVeniCsNQ59FQGPU76UEU5OIeCJ0TwiNVwa1qawpxWku4fEixP7bHvekB4LRQI2scM75eSVwDjrbAnxxgidqrnBEg/s1600/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252821%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAYP3N6Ch8uE_FpZWe9aati6YcMD9vWwSicPJLa7rbqQlfv-BJWxDVeniCsNQ59FQGPU76UEU5OIeCJ0TwiNVwa1qawpxWku4fEixP7bHvekB4LRQI2scM75eSVwDjrbAnxxgidqrnBEg/s320/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252821%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So t</span>his is an imperial palace but it does really come off as more of a city, with separate villages for servants, businessmen, and concubines. From village to "village," there are humongous gates. Each gate has a huge (like, 30 feet tall) central entryway with intricate carvings in it. Then off to each side of the central gate, there is a smaller, basic gate. In some of the royal houses (not the FC but in ones I saw in South Korea and elsewhere), the side gates are only about 4 feet high. This is a manifestation of a Confucian ideal which stresses "respect of authority." Which means that the emperor goes through the central gate and everyone else (old, young, pregnant, whatever) <i>stoops</i> to go through the other gates. Because you have to inflate the fragile ego of a king. So that was how I lost my western wonder and veneration for Confucius.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
If you're wondering why someone Chinese was named "Confucius," it's because he wasn't. The English name is a latinization of Kǒng Fūzǐ (孔夫子), which means "Grand Master Kong". But again, he's a jerk, so who cares? "Life's too short to deliberately build gates that people have to stoop to get through." - little known quote from Grand Master Amanda.<br />
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
The Great Wall</h3>
<div>
Speaking of gates... When you mention that you’re going to China for the summer, people ask what you are most looking forward to. My answer was simple: getting typhoid fever. Kidding! It was the Great Wall. </div>
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<div>
When the Han tribe (now 92% of the Chinese population) overthrew the Mongols, marking the beginning of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), they were worried about the Mongols retaking their old territory. So they built a wall, starting in present day North Korea and ending near the Gobi desert on the western side of the country. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Wtrj6XLqjz6eIxsCdktaFIR3q6P_ZUSAx9MpxpnU_7dBAdMz2B9UvLSrpNWxLehyphenhyphenAIlJNm45J7D8De09EcRK8a1047_IjsPV5Q6wwfsMsspXW6w3CVbitC60hW8r5j66OpWsmlKlxjYM/s1600/great_wall_of_china.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Wtrj6XLqjz6eIxsCdktaFIR3q6P_ZUSAx9MpxpnU_7dBAdMz2B9UvLSrpNWxLehyphenhyphenAIlJNm45J7D8De09EcRK8a1047_IjsPV5Q6wwfsMsspXW6w3CVbitC60hW8r5j66OpWsmlKlxjYM/s320/great_wall_of_china.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From https://sites.google.com/site/mrvailsclass2/great-wall-of-china, this is the current wall. You can see progress through the centuries at https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9d/Map_of_the_Great_Wall_of_China.jpg which shows the full extent of the former wall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
When exploring the wall, you can mark your progress by counting the watch towers you pass through. I forget how far apart they are, but it took a *cough* pretty fit *cough* person about 8 minutes to get from one to the next, speedwalking. Guess how many watchtowers there are? Over 25,000. But the ones you can access from where we were in Beijing are limited to about 50.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjROAEy4XynP0i4zjmMpRvxiy1WT50paxQ1_VuHX7nkqYp0POenGYqcQeAfa0H6SZZXgY-w-HehzhMb98ii7P75Vu312BWOA8h-2t7fQsTMsdL1NKbA6IGJJZmsW9qM84vevQKZ_Gq5-vPp/s1600/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252862%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjROAEy4XynP0i4zjmMpRvxiy1WT50paxQ1_VuHX7nkqYp0POenGYqcQeAfa0H6SZZXgY-w-HehzhMb98ii7P75Vu312BWOA8h-2t7fQsTMsdL1NKbA6IGJJZmsW9qM84vevQKZ_Gq5-vPp/s320/Beijing+-+Dongcheng+-+Beijing%252C+July+5%252C+2017+%252B+6+other+moments+-+1+of+103+%252862%2529.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In between watch towers in full sun and 100 degree heat, feeling totally spry and not holding myself up on the wall at all.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
There are lots of slopes and uneven stairs to deal with between watch towers so I don't recommend running. Even if, hypothetically, you are trying to maximize the surface area you cover in a short time, the tourists who like to cut in front of you and then stop to take pictures of like, a bug on the wall will just see it as an additional challenge to get in the way. I seriously saw a tourist take a selfie and you could only see her face and the inside of her umbrella. There was no indication whatsoever in that picture that she was currently on one of the wonders of the world. But I digress. You will probably only get to exactly 12 watchtowers. </div>
<div>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
The Summer Palace</h3>
The summer palace is an enormous compound, the majority of which is comprised of a man-made lake. This place was the summer retreat of the imperial monarchy, which is evident in the luxury of the buildings and walkways that look out over the water. In the present day, thousands of tourists stroll on the elaborate sidewalks on land and zip across the lake in intricately carved, colorful dragon boats on the water.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzooVQLClKMiPcQ9aM54NSkaLIjEgMxkvqndEnhyP_UlE3F0Nu11GDUiWpTSUBGC0ut4xL37vJzU1Ji2VWKqjzZFXaQSo1cp6sGA-OO-slhTspNb9b394wk9KOefuFyfLTCWt24HpVv0Y/s1600/IMG_2414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzooVQLClKMiPcQ9aM54NSkaLIjEgMxkvqndEnhyP_UlE3F0Nu11GDUiWpTSUBGC0ut4xL37vJzU1Ji2VWKqjzZFXaQSo1cp6sGA-OO-slhTspNb9b394wk9KOefuFyfLTCWt24HpVv0Y/s320/IMG_2414.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragon boat!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I'll spare you the details of the education portion of this trip, and sum it up with the commentary that Chinese schools are making huge progress to shed their reputation of being military-like factories. They are finally embracing the inclusion model for special ed students and focusing on "STEAM" instead of purely "STEM," adding <i><u><b>A</b>rts</u></i> to <b>S</b>cience, <b>T</b>echnology, <b>E</b>ngineering and <b>M</b>ath." However, they still have high stakes testing (as do we) and video cameras in classrooms (we only have them in hallways... for now). I asked why the cameras were in the classroom and the first answer was predictable ("safety") while the second one was jarring ("to ensure academic honesty on high stakes testing days"). It made me reflect on the similarities between the supposedly liberal, expressive and free American institutions and the unapologetic security state in China, especially as it manifests in the monitoring of children as young as kindergartners.<br />
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All of these places were accessible from Beijing. We also went (by train) to Nanjing, where I presented at an international education conference(!), and Shanghai.<br />
<br />
All in all, China was fantastic. But it also set an amazing foundation for me to really appreciate what was up next: South Korea and Japan!<br />
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Book for this part of the trip: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B004S1WMHG/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1">She's come undone</a> by Wally Lamb. Hard to read subject matter but the writing is incredible. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-32466011314314132432017-07-23T21:56:00.002-07:002017-07-23T21:56:25.374-07:00Asia trip 2017: Overview<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It took me way too long to get to northern Asia. Summer 2017 was the time to fix that.<div>
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<div>
With PhD summer classes to schedule around, I originally planned another solo trip, this time to China and maybe some neighboring countries. I booked my tickets in late 2016, but then a few months later my teacher canceled his summer classes and I was stumped. How could I get my summer credits in and still go to China?</div>
<div>
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<div>
As if on cue, I got an email from my uni saying that they had extended the deadline for a comparative education guided tour of China in early July. The program would count as 2 classes for my particular degree. Students would have the option to extend their trips or come home with the group after 2 weeks.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Not bad, right? I canceled my original tickets and applied. After getting in, I tossed the return ticket and booked a 5 day stay in Seoul and another 4 days in Tokyo instead. </div>
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<div>
As you can probably imagine, it has been marvelous. I'm still not home yet (I'm currently sitting sipping an organic smoothie and eating a vegan lunch while people watching in Minato, Tokyo), but I'll try to get a start on telling you all about it (hi again, mom!). </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-56495604472837339512017-04-02T17:56:00.007-07:002017-04-02T19:41:29.923-07:00Cuba: Cars, Castro, Churros and Che<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I went to Cuba! It was fabulous.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jDf5RTf3kVNCM0mneLY4yJe6vHFqPOtcmZPgh7ECGvRRSIu2Z5Dh_4v4KffSSCGZUajAplfKdTXyXYipKP2ML9wrTmCLJ4RctBP1dN3Y3-kchBXVIZueor7D_Wl_7ayRwBsE88gus22p/s1600/17264112_10102322468925704_462956177930315805_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jDf5RTf3kVNCM0mneLY4yJe6vHFqPOtcmZPgh7ECGvRRSIu2Z5Dh_4v4KffSSCGZUajAplfKdTXyXYipKP2ML9wrTmCLJ4RctBP1dN3Y3-kchBXVIZueor7D_Wl_7ayRwBsE88gus22p/s400/17264112_10102322468925704_462956177930315805_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This pic only took 5 tries and a heavy filter to look good. #progress</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Even with the loosening restrictions on US - Cuba travel, the embargo is still in place and currently Americans still need "a reason" to go to Cuba. According to the US-Cuba embassy <a href="https://cu.usembassy.gov/u-s-citizen-services/local-resources-of-u-s-citizens/traveling-to-cuba/">site</a> :</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The 12 categories of authorized travel to Cuba from the US are:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-size: large;">family visits; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">official business of the U.S. government, foreign governments, and certain intergovernmental organizations; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">journalistic activity; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">professional research and professional meetings;</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"> educational activities; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">religious activities; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">public performances, clinics, workshops, athletic and other competitions, and exhibitions;</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">support for the Cuban people; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">humanitarian projects; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">activities of private foundations or research or educational institutes; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">exportation, importation, or transmission of information or informational materials; </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">and certain authorized export transactions.</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some of you might have a connection to one of the above reasons, but be aware that at least officially, you are expected to have plenty of documentation justifying your trip that can be checked at the border. For instance, a school ID for "educational activities" would not be sufficient. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've heard of people going on their own and not having to "prove" their reason, but to play it safe (who wants to spend their vacation worrying if some power-hungry border guard is going to give you issues?), I went with a tour group (Cuba explorer; I'll put details at the end of the entry). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Now. This tour ended up being an incredible experience and totally worth the issues I had with them while I was still in the states. But jesus christ. We had issues. After sending them a (large!) deposit for the trip, I'd get an email saying "Here's your receipt for the deposit," (great!) and then months later, get another email saying "We HAVENT RECEIVED your deposit! IF YOU DON'T PAY we can't guarantee your spot!" Additionally, their site is not secure, so I just closed my eyes and prayed as I entered my credit card details for payments (for those not aware, not using a secure socket layer on web pages that are used for payments, which looks like 'http<b><u>s</u></b>' in your browser URL instead of just 'http' is a huge, basic security no-no). Basically every email and payment I sent had to be screen-shotted and resent to prove that I did what I was supposed to do. Maybe you are the type of person who can brush this type of thing off, I found it enraging. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, it was all worth it when I got to Havana! I flew American Airlines the whole way without incident and our tour guide was waiting for me at the gate. She gathered a few more people who had arrived on earlier flights and we went right through customs with her and skipped the long lines. The men in our group were probably sad about this expedited arrival, because the female security employees at the airport wear the sexiest outfits I've ever seen. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OLLIKyRbSjvLXuwud5G0HPFD-TmCp6y8XT4qxAEZTk6opD7E116oKaiZR3qeyeZAOUHhHPAPf_GLQXPQDkCbU5n3fiW6v_EX2hOtbJ_xrkSIaKfNz4RSpVIso2cwU16iob_WY_DE-ISf/s1600/airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OLLIKyRbSjvLXuwud5G0HPFD-TmCp6y8XT4qxAEZTk6opD7E116oKaiZR3qeyeZAOUHhHPAPf_GLQXPQDkCbU5n3fiW6v_EX2hOtbJ_xrkSIaKfNz4RSpVIso2cwU16iob_WY_DE-ISf/s320/airport.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't take any pics but here's one I found on another blog. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The group was mostly comprised of married retirees, with a few families. There were 15 of us total and we rode around Cuba in a lil minibus. It never fails to amaze me that families with multiple siblings a) travel as a unit and b) don't rip each other to shreds after day 4. I can only assume the family members were all heavily medicated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our guide was incredible. Ari is a young (27ish?) Cuban woman who spoke wonderful English and knew everything we wanted to know about Cuba. Hundreds of historical dates memorized? Yep. Exact locations of where different battles and events happened? Yes. Entire lives of Cuban artists and their respective movements perfectly recited? Also yes. Deftly reconciling the major rift between ideologies of a pro-Fidel history professor and the people living in crumbling infrastructure on the street? Multiple times a day. She knew every type of building material, fish, cigar brand, rum brand, and monument. She knew the best place to take a picture from to get the whole city in the background. And most importantly of all, she introduced me to a Cuban street food dessert called Chiviricos which are sold wrapped in, you guessed it, old printer paper (the kind with the holes on strips on either side). </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDa5cXA9J7tc0Pia0j013eKpTI7tnH9L9RFKuB0ugNSqABA2gaHTqmqiIn2D51OewBCkizwdqurM5dA3D-gzlVQBkcQlrfk_WA1_aGllARhYj5m6jEkIzfLp2j1Ti_Eod-EBKI4aDb835u/s1600/17352405_10102322478012494_8402432494357252862_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDa5cXA9J7tc0Pia0j013eKpTI7tnH9L9RFKuB0ugNSqABA2gaHTqmqiIn2D51OewBCkizwdqurM5dA3D-gzlVQBkcQlrfk_WA1_aGllARhYj5m6jEkIzfLp2j1Ti_Eod-EBKI4aDb835u/s320/17352405_10102322478012494_8402432494357252862_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A greasy, sugary fried dough specimen called a chivirico. Best enjoyed while meandering through narrow Havana streets (and not indoors, because the sugar gets everywhere).</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">More or less, we stuck to <a href="http://cubaexplorer.com/tours/cuba-introduction-tour/tour/itinerary/">this itinerary</a>, so I'll give you a few details that aren't evident from that:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The food was always lovely (although if I was full vegetarian and not pescatarian I would have been mighty hungry); basic but with plenty of herbs and spices. Rice and beans were featured at almost every meal; apparently Cubans eat more rice per capita than some Asian countries, and they import it since it doesn't grow well here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The old cars are seriously everywhere, but only the ones used as taxis are kept in pristine condition. You'll see plenty of classic beauties rusted over and falling apart. While these gorgeous cars make for an awesome sight, they also spew pollution constantly (which, combined with the penchant for cigar smoking, perhaps contributed to Cuba being the first place where a <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2016/08/02/health/lung-cancer-vaccine-cuba/">vaccine for lung cancer</a> was concocted) and even the well looked after ones break down a lot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSYJ3xevKEMFUmuOz6nLsaPSQG8SdTgFzHgVpeMNor5kQRS2w3SCoJNBRb4IxfS5OVPDF3n8xhLU1g3IKNGbCV8VKPFOvLV1_UyNwRjGg9R17S5m86Cna0kK66wglFAlretwTTY5KMQYe/s1600/17362911_10102322474754024_8775163498170339828_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSYJ3xevKEMFUmuOz6nLsaPSQG8SdTgFzHgVpeMNor5kQRS2w3SCoJNBRb4IxfS5OVPDF3n8xhLU1g3IKNGbCV8VKPFOvLV1_UyNwRjGg9R17S5m86Cna0kK66wglFAlretwTTY5KMQYe/s320/17362911_10102322474754024_8775163498170339828_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGKOr6cCc7jAbSLvvuwnjTdKqpditxwmMrwRODdoGenb1PT7UF87ZDg3NBT5jGMpGwXDv0yxNUOIqqer9bs5n9HT_CXOWNH_QuXVBf1yFRFYEEDs6fjC5QL0eSdj1beTxsNPqRJDod_Uj/s1600/17424850_10102322474220094_1054842820730452245_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGKOr6cCc7jAbSLvvuwnjTdKqpditxwmMrwRODdoGenb1PT7UF87ZDg3NBT5jGMpGwXDv0yxNUOIqqer9bs5n9HT_CXOWNH_QuXVBf1yFRFYEEDs6fjC5QL0eSdj1beTxsNPqRJDod_Uj/s320/17424850_10102322474220094_1054842820730452245_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The taxi drivers will totally hook you up. There is no beach in Havana proper, you'll have to get out of the city to find a good one (playa del este worked for me), and nothing beats cruising down the highway in a classic convertible with a friendly taxi driver!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0jYfCaI77BnZnjwkoGt97KpVfECkgQn7qRPcN9EbPTSY4p7YNInVPwSnKIHIGxactempc1-HcvSIkAqHaaAngBAtaW7WRJHvfiLD1nhFrwN0z8PvaxXlOSJol04F4EtOS2oWzX9Xw09zE/s1600/IMG_1226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0jYfCaI77BnZnjwkoGt97KpVfECkgQn7qRPcN9EbPTSY4p7YNInVPwSnKIHIGxactempc1-HcvSIkAqHaaAngBAtaW7WRJHvfiLD1nhFrwN0z8PvaxXlOSJol04F4EtOS2oWzX9Xw09zE/s320/IMG_1226.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes I found a handsome driver who also took me salsa dancing. Highly recommend.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Spanish: omg, so fast. Lots of slang and swallowed word endings. Beginners beware!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The tourists: people from other countries have been coming here nonstop. It's a very popular destination for Canadians, Europeans, and Russians (they go way back 😉). Americans kept asking questions to our guide and locals like "What is it like to suddenly have tourists here?" It's not sudden, dummies. The world doesn't revolve around Americans' presence in foreign countries. But Cubans like us for some reason. There were plenty of locals wearing the American flag emblazoned on clothing. Some had the flag on <i>every article </i>of clothing: shoes, shorts, shirt, hat, the works. I've seen this in several other countries but have never seen it with a different country's flag, so maybe we <i>should</i> be obsessed with ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The money: American banks and credit card companies do not operate in Cuba. If you have a European account/card (look at you, Mr. Fancypants) you should definitely bring it. Otherwise, bring USD and convert it at your hotel or the airport (you don't risk as much changing money at the airport here since the exchange rate is tightly controlled and monitored so that it is uniform throughout the city). You'll want CUCs ("kooks") aka "Convertible pesos," since those are the ones that match best with American dollars. Don't be surprised to see prices also listed in CUP, or Cuban pesos. I didn't bother getting the more authentic Cuban pesos since anyone who does business with you (or expects a tip from you) wants CUCs due to their stronger value. While our tour included almost all meals and entrance fees, I still spent about $200 on souvenirs, tips, etc. over the span of a week, so plan accordingly. Here's <a href="http://therewardboss.com/cubas-two-currencies-cuc-vs-cup-exchanging-money-credit-cards-atms/">a site</a> that goes into more detail on the money. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The internet: let's just say, if you're looking for a place to unplug, you will like it here. Internet is accessible but pretty high maintenance. Until as recently as 2011, internet was only available for university students in Cuba, and capped at 3 hours per month (!). You can buy internet by the hour (about $2/hour) from most hotels. They'll give you a card with a looooooong username and longer password which basically works like a long distance phone card from generations ago. For locals and those not staying in hotels, keep your eyes peeled for random groups of people standing around on their phones (on the sidewalk or in a park). If you see this type of group and get your phone out, a random "dealer" will come up and offer you an internet card. There are also state-run computer cafes, which are very popular and usually full from what I saw. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The history: Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos are even more venerated and idolized than Castro. All three of those guys compete with José Martí, a Cuban hero from a different generation (Martí helped lead Cuba to independence from Spain in around 1898, whereas Castro/Guevara/Cienfuegos led mostly Cuban farmers in revolt of US-selected Batista in the 1950s and 60s). Propaganda still has a decent-sized role, as you can pick up from these comics I bought because <strike>my Spanish wasn't ready for complicated textbooks</strike> I wanted to see what kids here are taught. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdMJsjehxuaOztUQU_7ynJJtOJsUsKL3yPCb-Piw4l1nhKXHlIJCnODZJtbnvTI_9qK8fDFqjtQeH-P0Gx66Ew0JgjMsh-jO6u2MZ_XIiAHx9pQJdRSijJWeaf66bxQwp6JwYuT8FX3Zg/s1600/IMG_1380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdMJsjehxuaOztUQU_7ynJJtOJsUsKL3yPCb-Piw4l1nhKXHlIJCnODZJtbnvTI_9qK8fDFqjtQeH-P0Gx66Ew0JgjMsh-jO6u2MZ_XIiAHx9pQJdRSijJWeaf66bxQwp6JwYuT8FX3Zg/s320/IMG_1380.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fidel is consistently portrayed as standing up for justice and taking bullets for friends, showing mercy to enemies, and being cheeky to his teachers. Obviously it would be hard for him not to appeal to young kids. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1S6_3-3OcVFGzh0LssXvWHGd1-DAvVrsLkHPCUfPkoYAeWV9GYe-t8aCNv37rw6_pk4Pqy0MbqdUtBDledQ3edBwwHilmpZ1e6todTpUJF3SKdKoOXrdoSKPeAMxZRYzq4E3Sk5ISCfdU/s1600/IMG_1381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1S6_3-3OcVFGzh0LssXvWHGd1-DAvVrsLkHPCUfPkoYAeWV9GYe-t8aCNv37rw6_pk4Pqy0MbqdUtBDledQ3edBwwHilmpZ1e6todTpUJF3SKdKoOXrdoSKPeAMxZRYzq4E3Sk5ISCfdU/s320/IMG_1381.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here is described how the US forced Batista into power against Cubans' wishes and votes.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Remember when the US forced puppet governments into power in foreign countries despite democratic elections resulting in other people winning? You might not have one single instance in mind because <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_authoritarian_regimes_supported_by_the_United_States">we did that a lot</a>. I guess it's different when Russia does it to us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Alright Amanda, chill with the politics and let's end this on a positive note," you say.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbvWy6R51JPyF1oPD9yG8aFzQZ2CLuUfDi-q6jaS0s45i_8TNCPCqdU1RxFTcj5UqiIBKDAZfdMVqyyGGTqO1gNZrFX7FT8OEHpDPGzg5abSf6SFlYyJN_QTjHPoJtZNI7m6UQl01tgCZ/s1600/17424851_10102322478281954_7020972054090047283_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbvWy6R51JPyF1oPD9yG8aFzQZ2CLuUfDi-q6jaS0s45i_8TNCPCqdU1RxFTcj5UqiIBKDAZfdMVqyyGGTqO1gNZrFX7FT8OEHpDPGzg5abSf6SFlYyJN_QTjHPoJtZNI7m6UQl01tgCZ/s320/17424851_10102322478281954_7020972054090047283_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Many places in Cuba are famous because they were frequented by Hemingway. This one was also apparently the birthplace of the mojito. Hemingway, however, was a jerk who hunted animals for sport so who cares about him?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo5lTxTM9CN8pPRCx5sXY2jwX6WR8GvdHdO0JMmti3pOfvlPHS9Dnmx7H0jCmx9AIv_vErUFeWIkf5zzfSvqyNlhPVufWrScAH9Yts6NeQlpLILpYIx8iSw6dkm4w97Yo2ZAldYEfApOxr/s400/17359369_10102322474534464_1244175170157630747_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="170" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is more like it. Dancing Cuban salsa in the moonlight with a live band. </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgH-RLGTP-957mzgJTpQwmZB8n3uxIBbaGdMM4tMudQdceZHNYAfjllX89F0Z2Ue4pU9HPK7lkQWU0J1IURR9ttzq2UnAaHpcZ0HNuwACNxOUbSW3sJbIksaQ5awVVJ_5DPuJw-FT-oj04/s1600/17362361_10102322478182154_2679238324558437038_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgH-RLGTP-957mzgJTpQwmZB8n3uxIBbaGdMM4tMudQdceZHNYAfjllX89F0Z2Ue4pU9HPK7lkQWU0J1IURR9ttzq2UnAaHpcZ0HNuwACNxOUbSW3sJbIksaQ5awVVJ_5DPuJw-FT-oj04/s400/17362361_10102322478182154_2679238324558437038_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">And finally.... Cuban street kitty!</span></td></tr>
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<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">More info:</span></u></b><br />
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Tour company (be sure to read my warning above): <a href="http://cubaexplorer.com/">http://cubaexplorer.com/</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, you need a visa. I got one through the tour company. It was around $80 (I'm sure you can get it for cheaper but again I didn't want to risk getting the wrong thing) and it was shipped to my door. You just bring it with you and they take it from you at the border.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Travel buddy: Neil, fellow travel addict, whom only when we arrived at the hotel I realized I had not met in person before 😂</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Books read: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Handmaids-Tale-Margaret-Atwood-ebook/dp/B003JFJHTS/ref=sr_1_1_ha?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1491180740&sr=1-1&keywords=handmaid%27s+tale">Handmaiden's tale</a> (yikes. not my favorite), <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SW082QY/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1">They can live in the desert but nowhere else</a> (I don't like his writing but the topic is important).</span></li>
</ul>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-73960525890707760422017-01-19T05:52:00.002-08:002017-01-19T06:05:06.863-08:00The north island: Australia and New Zealand adventure part 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been putting off this entry for several reasons:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">1) I have been up for 24 hours due to jet lag that will not die,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">2) I'm starting to focus more on my trip to Washington, D.C. tomorrow to protest that idiot's inauguration, but mostly </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">3) Writing about it means this trip is really truly seriously over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As you know from part 4, I wanted to weasel my way into the North Island so I could have a few sunny days before coming back to freezing Boston. The issue was finding a place to stay. Honestly, at this point I was ok with getting a hotel and sitting by the pool all day. BUT! Loyal readers may already have deduced that I do have some, albeit very loose, connections in New Zealand. Anyone remember? No? The cruise that I took in 2012. <a href="http://mandagoes.blogspot.com/2012/10/venice-greece-turkey-madrid.html" target="_blank">Here's the blog entry</a>, and here's the direct quote: </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , sans-serif;">Probably our best buds were 3 brothers from South Africa/New Zealand whom we </span><strike style="background-color: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif;">followed and tricked into talking in order to hear their glorious accents</strike><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , sans-serif;"> had some lovely conversations with and sometimes joined for dinner.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So on a whim, I got in touch with one of the 3 boys (what's up Arron!) and *happy dance* he said I could stay with him and his family in Auckland! The other two brothers lived elsewhere but I still got to see them, and I got to meet their parents, whose genetic perfection finally solved the mystery of the trio's freakishly good looks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Side note: You know those people who look like real life Ken dolls and runway models? You know, the kinds that play villains in movies because no hero that good looking would ever be relatable to a wide audience? Don't you just wish when people like that opened their mouths they had some kind of dopey hick accent and were dumb as rocks so you could be like "Well yeah they have looks but at what cost?" This family will irritate you beyond measure. Because they are super villain gorgeous... and smart/articulate... AND HAVE AN ACCENT THAT IS A BLEND OF SOUTH AFRICAN AND NEW ZEALAND. What the actual heck?! It's troubling. It's not natural. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's totally awesome to hang out with for a few days though!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You're probably wondering: "What did YOU bring to the table, Amanda? Did you hold your own with witty banter and sparkling conversation?" Well let me tell you, in the form of an ACTUAL CONVERSATION that took place basically right as I arrived:<br /><br />Arron: <i>[hugs me]</i> Wow, long time no see, thanks for visiting!<br />Me: <i>[in my mind]</i> Thanks for <b>hosting</b> me!<br />Me: <i>[out loud in real life]</i> Thanks for <b>holding</b> me!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">---------awkward silence--------</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">---------Arron extricates himself from the hug---------</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For some reason Arron didn't leave me to sleep under a bridge after that. In fact, he had some time off and quickly became the Best Guide Ever. We started off at the Auckland sky tower to get a bird's eye view of the city before exploring more in depth. </span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxbFoVixg4B5DGHA3dQCcJwjeB8-aPE4RStRb9jjBZy9TcHCBMiiC2lIR0-fV5teUQe4WbWa15slYMZ6Dp1Vg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Up the elevator we go!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Watch this one all the way to the end, it's only 30 seconds. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And from there I was basically a spoiled brat and got chauffeured to all the best nooks and crannies of Auckland...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2GkEIxFtLzoxJE9CFP_zcIB1pO-3m81PkH1r01-hd41RkQLyJXxWCkvxHVN2bSq4bkanuectZ8_1UJHbqKJwekQss4eUAo6Liq5r9fX1CmH4E_S1uiLevfsOp9BC505QOoh6TY0TzRja/s1600/IMG_0375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2GkEIxFtLzoxJE9CFP_zcIB1pO-3m81PkH1r01-hd41RkQLyJXxWCkvxHVN2bSq4bkanuectZ8_1UJHbqKJwekQss4eUAo6Liq5r9fX1CmH4E_S1uiLevfsOp9BC505QOoh6TY0TzRja/s400/IMG_0375.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously. Just overboard really at this point. Ok fine I won't keep them to myself: Arron's <a href="https://www.instagram.com/arronnettmann/" target="_blank">insta</a>, Smatchimo's <a href="https://www.instagram.com/pandemicdrumming/" target="_blank">insta</a>, Damian's <a href="https://www.instagram.com/damian_nettmann/" target="_blank">insta</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPHGLvbJUahUAYu8bM0BSnQYEiMuqvkII5E59xH6QGoebdN1sxh0W1h63x-ik2Q0DK0bvTJZDCf22h5wnwlKwKc45hRFm_mRIsX40dzqFKOrGlRU6J_cHPOfPApG8TqUmt_RiwvW2txdNz/s1600/IMG_0554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPHGLvbJUahUAYu8bM0BSnQYEiMuqvkII5E59xH6QGoebdN1sxh0W1h63x-ik2Q0DK0bvTJZDCf22h5wnwlKwKc45hRFm_mRIsX40dzqFKOrGlRU6J_cHPOfPApG8TqUmt_RiwvW2txdNz/s320/IMG_0554.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Auckland from faraway by night<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsxOzvIa_MRn_KODHKote23iFlp55V8bUaumRi8KqQU0UEsgqbTGuyXUL_ViaLch_KE32Z8kCpHSst8E5KOu_HMKyeuY2zvj_6FCkZOvT9OYTa32nkMd1U9DPWHOK3pVOL0XlisDfhRAJ/s1600/IMG_0374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsxOzvIa_MRn_KODHKote23iFlp55V8bUaumRi8KqQU0UEsgqbTGuyXUL_ViaLch_KE32Z8kCpHSst8E5KOu_HMKyeuY2zvj_6FCkZOvT9OYTa32nkMd1U9DPWHOK3pVOL0XlisDfhRAJ/s320/IMG_0374.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water was cold but I still got in! #majorprogress</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We even got out of Auckland and into ("the?" not sure if it requires an article) Coromandel, a peninsula with some amazing beaches and bushwalks. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQQZzRMCL0ReGIR0fv1Xjn4ip4ExCkpS9vRAgzxeLWsRgm45Nu3KmzHDxc3l7KFI_NiW6VIrQGHAXHIfaGFlJK5FfA7m2SY__xevgAEDkC5bsXPt00EJCCUPEGCg9x5T3FpyRw9jLX0aG/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-01-19+at+8.28.42+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQQZzRMCL0ReGIR0fv1Xjn4ip4ExCkpS9vRAgzxeLWsRgm45Nu3KmzHDxc3l7KFI_NiW6VIrQGHAXHIfaGFlJK5FfA7m2SY__xevgAEDkC5bsXPt00EJCCUPEGCg9x5T3FpyRw9jLX0aG/s400/Screen+Shot+2017-01-19+at+8.28.42+AM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For bearings</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Pvbl1p6y3h_WWTGFRTHI0Yhw2QoG5wfBKDVEq8jAMgLtDwzx2gNA0ZbYpM22BI05b2LkPvnAWpEufrVFdpXtubGHYNcS8Yk934oz7CC98EWEJfo-dCaF8MSaKvAgThOD_L260NTU3_l9/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-01-19+at+8.29.12+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Pvbl1p6y3h_WWTGFRTHI0Yhw2QoG5wfBKDVEq8jAMgLtDwzx2gNA0ZbYpM22BI05b2LkPvnAWpEufrVFdpXtubGHYNcS8Yk934oz7CC98EWEJfo-dCaF8MSaKvAgThOD_L260NTU3_l9/s400/Screen+Shot+2017-01-19+at+8.29.12+AM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a handy map for you</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There were multiple highlights here: Cathedral Cove, a natural rock formation on the beach which was extremely peaceful even though there were tourists hanging about, Pohutukawa trees (for some reason I pronounced this correctly on the first try, yet "Bondi" eluded me for days) aka New Zealand Christmas trees since they are green with lovely red flowers and only bloom around Christmas, a secret swimming hole with a rope swing, a "hot beach" with geothermal springs coming up through the sand, steaming like crazy and people digging holes to sit in them, and a ridiculous moonrise that was so big that - no lie - I originally thought it was the sun setting.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaTQKp976gg9IOpmgL4p1TTR1Z-pd4Ls7kAGi_yr2tUjh-06By4Lp_x9GcvBvvPfeTp4XFDRGraDaozKtfPx0zmySpes6A4DxZ8jb1EAmnDPxhh3Lfw5MEuroswxr8RgDUnxs13ILmqnO/s1600/IMG_0537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaTQKp976gg9IOpmgL4p1TTR1Z-pd4Ls7kAGi_yr2tUjh-06By4Lp_x9GcvBvvPfeTp4XFDRGraDaozKtfPx0zmySpes6A4DxZ8jb1EAmnDPxhh3Lfw5MEuroswxr8RgDUnxs13ILmqnO/s320/IMG_0537.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas tree with Cathedral Cove in the background</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUW_wKdw_66CsfrQhZe8u2_NdeMBxUS-bnV3Fk-brx67PusA6iEj4RkDk6j8KX1u45KwEgSaDl3TcXtQiye1I8jmMf-Npvivq4OIkagEBMGQgg9Czu2c3XDGUWEIE7PElPgfAmJUeml14g/s1600/IMG_0545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUW_wKdw_66CsfrQhZe8u2_NdeMBxUS-bnV3Fk-brx67PusA6iEj4RkDk6j8KX1u45KwEgSaDl3TcXtQiye1I8jmMf-Npvivq4OIkagEBMGQgg9Czu2c3XDGUWEIE7PElPgfAmJUeml14g/s320/IMG_0545.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This reminded me of so many country songs. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFRP1VbmaDQ">"Summertime" by Kenny Chesney</a>, mostly.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1p78xHR2nAG2Tf6LE_wXpkP7gNMHCUVaiQpNnHaVp5C5YjZfgYhaLFyN1dnOD9f1Kjr5KQSnqn9UBshyphenhyphenNF63CRjpyjcc4FQgDkZkThcLnllhyphenhyphentbSruC-AbdEbxJIYB5uzzkpjdDiSaM-I/s1600/IMG_0535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1p78xHR2nAG2Tf6LE_wXpkP7gNMHCUVaiQpNnHaVp5C5YjZfgYhaLFyN1dnOD9f1Kjr5KQSnqn9UBshyphenhyphenNF63CRjpyjcc4FQgDkZkThcLnllhyphenhyphentbSruC-AbdEbxJIYB5uzzkpjdDiSaM-I/s320/IMG_0535.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot beach sands</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlYN7UhC4YBJyuMK74w5LX-dRmefZ6IlN90l5YZ3P-aAL7Uqyt6kAVnoQb958RlJK1LtzpB2ZSb9fltU_Ch15rfZnoNthiGEGSXxVgJWlECM8lPJLbwCJM4NbM5mm6KR19-Hkf3GXsUoZ/s1600/IMG_0488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlYN7UhC4YBJyuMK74w5LX-dRmefZ6IlN90l5YZ3P-aAL7Uqyt6kAVnoQb958RlJK1LtzpB2ZSb9fltU_Ch15rfZnoNthiGEGSXxVgJWlECM8lPJLbwCJM4NbM5mm6KR19-Hkf3GXsUoZ/s640/IMG_0488.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset and moonrise. You know how it is, pics won't do it justice, but there's an idea. P.s.<a href="http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2014%2F08%2F14" target="_blank"> read this poem</a> about not being able to capture moments like this. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When it was finally time to go home, I packed up and grabbed a healthy juice bottle to glamorously sip on the way to the airport. Of course, one of the greek statue brothers (what's up Smatchimo!) (that's really his name, weird huh? ;)) decided that was a great time to introduce me to the World's Second Best Ice Cream (surely you haven't forgotten about Hokey Pokey already!) which is made out of DARK chocolate. In ice cream. I think it's like 72%. Wtf, New Zealand? Can the US please have some of your dairy product goodness?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So my last moments in NZ, instead of sipping juice like a celebrity coming out of yoga class, were spent inhaling vast quantities of this ice cream in Arron's house AND car. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgm4kfTZDOT4Z5RBPk6QgL-jWL7ir26WgDoyc3PWDvwSZBtpoOIrY6bgxjegqEdHFMfUrxwuD2vdCTUeHc0vQdaPB2M_nTO1KNyyC-reDgisqpFHrMso_B9__DxdwLT0xc74kD96v5wiJ/s1600/IMG_0530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgm4kfTZDOT4Z5RBPk6QgL-jWL7ir26WgDoyc3PWDvwSZBtpoOIrY6bgxjegqEdHFMfUrxwuD2vdCTUeHc0vQdaPB2M_nTO1KNyyC-reDgisqpFHrMso_B9__DxdwLT0xc74kD96v5wiJ/s320/IMG_0530.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">worth it.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So the moral of the story is: plan as best as you can, but don't stress about changing things around when you're already abroad. And for the love of god, make friends when you travel, then you can go back and visit their amazing cities. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU all the people who helped and hosted me on this trip. My heart is so full right now, and I'm taking all that good energy with me to Washington tomorrow, where I'm sure it will be sorely needed. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvJZLNYxfBtEXKqt71UfmTtst2ogzpj6lLDJz-z51WDkEvRtC0if03wCgsSjq0FyKIQMjePYUT1UntPV-vxDynazbjH8hQeSpGFmGGiBT1djBKH-_7i8ZF1pKQtucAiXdznANR8MxejGN/s1600/IMG_0536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvJZLNYxfBtEXKqt71UfmTtst2ogzpj6lLDJz-z51WDkEvRtC0if03wCgsSjq0FyKIQMjePYUT1UntPV-vxDynazbjH8hQeSpGFmGGiBT1djBKH-_7i8ZF1pKQtucAiXdznANR8MxejGN/s640/IMG_0536.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye bye silver fern! </td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5145625504617848096.post-46508085240810298902017-01-17T18:13:00.002-08:002018-11-21T08:04:32.351-08:00The South Island: Australia and New Zealand adventure part 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I made my way to Oamaru, a small town in the state of Otago, where a long-time family friend (what's up Sophie!) now lives. I didn't see much of Oamaru right away, because as soon as my bus arrived in town I was repacking bags: Sophie had planned an incredible getaway for me and her friends to go bushwalking in the Catlins.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-qBGwUezmgF8QqFFkWgpfaaOfFVtil3YLDSYwo7yvGJ-AnbE3HAbBDLK36Bc1X_my2Cu9sy-I8FHw63Hjzf-w6pX8FRSol4xO-e0VwqY2YrEBZqoF6K4a5PqRuZHNH1ofRZgSn5QV_Jr/s1600/catlins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-qBGwUezmgF8QqFFkWgpfaaOfFVtil3YLDSYwo7yvGJ-AnbE3HAbBDLK36Bc1X_my2Cu9sy-I8FHw63Hjzf-w6pX8FRSol4xO-e0VwqY2YrEBZqoF6K4a5PqRuZHNH1ofRZgSn5QV_Jr/s200/catlins.jpg" width="125" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fun fact: I thought bushwalks were a uniquely "down under" thing requiring specific vegetation/bushes. It's actually just their word for "hiking."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, Sophie had rented a "bach," or little summer cabin, for us to stay in. I quickly picked up on the lingo and would provide poignant commentary like, "Party at the bach!" Alas, this was yet another word I was pronouncing incorrectly. It's supposed to be "batch" (rhymes with <i>catch</i>), whereas I was pronouncing it like the name of the 18th century German composer (<i>bok</i>), known for such hits as <i>Toccata and Fugue in D minor</i> and <i>Party at the Bach.</i> We ended up being a group of 7 people and 1 rambunctious dog (what's up Figo!) going on a 4 day mini-trip, and we traveled in true NZ style - an ancient van which at times had to be pulled via rope by a very sturdy SUV down careening cliffs and gravel roads.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw7vNfixpu9g9TNMvkVva1MNFJeARCmYfEy_c7Wgc-xHkUsQxwpGX4ctVK4vHuRXIPlxWCsVxFmuXYq8TbrjQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">That guitar would be put to very good use.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheJ7TmgFFkC5W3ivzWwyoAhFgR2EqOiq5rNKHOpCNveUMMRO6bOWXQwZSzJbIfEI0i5h3Lp_wkU3YgLdX3uRbuCr_FifMmGThPSD3Kg9Ufakvp6XFVWJfMp_1TP3Oc1i3Lgq6Nz7GwWKp/s1600/IMG_0134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheJ7TmgFFkC5W3ivzWwyoAhFgR2EqOiq5rNKHOpCNveUMMRO6bOWXQwZSzJbIfEI0i5h3Lp_wkU3YgLdX3uRbuCr_FifMmGThPSD3Kg9Ufakvp6XFVWJfMp_1TP3Oc1i3Lgq6Nz7GwWKp/s320/IMG_0134.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The van would later be named "Sassy Shanay" because during certain points in our driving conversations, the horn would beep <b>without anyone touching it</b>. This was considered to be Shanay voicing either agreement or displeasure, based upon individual interpretation.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQXNw3wWiA73KQR3KB7W7TZkCnE29BYt8O5rLox0tprkKk1j2PGygLnKaD_Vb_VqKVx3C_LXgehojFBKNeZuossKyZwre-AmSedm01vyuDChLo5aYrMEMsv_y8gO920yDtVP6ZYTpz3wpG/s1600/IMG_0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQXNw3wWiA73KQR3KB7W7TZkCnE29BYt8O5rLox0tprkKk1j2PGygLnKaD_Vb_VqKVx3C_LXgehojFBKNeZuossKyZwre-AmSedm01vyuDChLo5aYrMEMsv_y8gO920yDtVP6ZYTpz3wpG/s320/IMG_0125.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sassy Shanay taking a break.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"> Some sweet little runaway sheep.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Glamorous: Unfiltered photo of a quick stop on the winding roads of the South Island. Less glamorous: we were probably stopped so one of the boys could pee.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqstAaUiYzUjlMsHGgWzoSO0BTMIQave4BWq7vEi1Fiq1N6BMJh9D9QWkuhp3vM7oqJlwHhzQFoKquNwsKWm96-sIo0_tBaySqPzoY5gST0G6JG6GeBoOR5yzR6M59taMngnN5WXHQ3ht/s1600/IMG_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqstAaUiYzUjlMsHGgWzoSO0BTMIQave4BWq7vEi1Fiq1N6BMJh9D9QWkuhp3vM7oqJlwHhzQFoKquNwsKWm96-sIo0_tBaySqPzoY5gST0G6JG6GeBoOR5yzR6M59taMngnN5WXHQ3ht/s320/IMG_0135.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Figo, the faithful pup, could always be counted on for snuggles and sudden fits of biting (he's teething). He would also lovingly hump his pillow at night before bedtime like clockwork. If he also did this during the day (which he did, usually in front of small children who had come to pet him), Sophie would quip, "Figo! That's for the late night showing of your parlor tricks!" and at least get a chuckle out of the concerned parents. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With road prep complete, we had only one last stop left before the bach - pick up our final traveler! Serendipitously, a friend from Boston (what's up Mei!) was in New Zealand at the same time as me and hitchhiked to meet us on our way to the Catlins. Hitchhiking is reeeeeally common, and we picked up a hitcher here and there. No, mom, don't worry, I didn't do it myself (this time!).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We made it to the bach and set out for our first day of bushwalking: a loooooong (6 hour) trek through thick forest with hardly a path to speak of. I thought I was pretty amazing for doing this, and then Sophie casually mentioned that her 98 year-old granny had just done it last month. What a boss!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA-CJDrBOX-19Gp-tCK_WoYQhqeJR1TIqSe7vKY_iFLyCxliuehA-TGV1nbYKhDdwMhzes7p8D-TVkpkQGT5NzK0Lc73CcE7e_kqFagQqceQCd0NwDd2oENS6HSB87uEH7JGM2VpNKFn23/s1600/IMG_0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA-CJDrBOX-19Gp-tCK_WoYQhqeJR1TIqSe7vKY_iFLyCxliuehA-TGV1nbYKhDdwMhzes7p8D-TVkpkQGT5NzK0Lc73CcE7e_kqFagQqceQCd0NwDd2oENS6HSB87uEH7JGM2VpNKFn23/s320/IMG_0197.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ukelele Mei and Me hiking: Bad Bitches from Boston to the Bach. I'll tell you where her nickname comes from later since it's impossible to guess. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByKprrMW2xNG5FnTLz8cws-BdT9vezZ5Hx8ocfXUmSVP93tdkZ7_aKePPmb37CquiSrmv9PdYbS1eO_w5fMXxXEW5t4F5FJhsO2x6Xo-BnYJTYboPwKUcUISSruxfJQk95nfAWdYKvoVJ/s1600/IMG_0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByKprrMW2xNG5FnTLz8cws-BdT9vezZ5Hx8ocfXUmSVP93tdkZ7_aKePPmb37CquiSrmv9PdYbS1eO_w5fMXxXEW5t4F5FJhsO2x6Xo-BnYJTYboPwKUcUISSruxfJQk95nfAWdYKvoVJ/s320/IMG_0200.JPG" width="256" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sophie crossing the treacherous bridge.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cGcooSWqgJ1szhWqGjaGY_o3YWLzaFO-kwbvyr1utM_i01EL0bcy2C_AaFvkIhusugbFmhX1g_r4btmCwttkdE2cWVKOkFf-YM3T3Zj-8r4a34JxQgvUP9mQmgN44V3AvvS32lAhJCwY/s1600/IMG_0142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cGcooSWqgJ1szhWqGjaGY_o3YWLzaFO-kwbvyr1utM_i01EL0bcy2C_AaFvkIhusugbFmhX1g_r4btmCwttkdE2cWVKOkFf-YM3T3Zj-8r4a34JxQgvUP9mQmgN44V3AvvS32lAhJCwY/s320/IMG_0142.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Picture taken from the bridge</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSTKYBXZ1AseJNcURucrruQaw3wPNeDAsh_Tl-7AVptw-T9fH55haUIdWbQfzsyq1qs-e6tsEFGfpiKD8NSdg_dnPQvokn2gv7xzN6aWhr21w4ADrK-GwaXTZXqUvcSTWIlxYOyre8fa9/s1600/IMG_0167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSTKYBXZ1AseJNcURucrruQaw3wPNeDAsh_Tl-7AVptw-T9fH55haUIdWbQfzsyq1qs-e6tsEFGfpiKD8NSdg_dnPQvokn2gv7xzN6aWhr21w4ADrK-GwaXTZXqUvcSTWIlxYOyre8fa9/s320/IMG_0167.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sophie and Mark, tree nymphs</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> That night, we came back starving and had an awesome dinner made mostly from the veggies from one of Sophie's many projects: a community garden. Here I'll introduce the other campers, since they are about to have a musical role: Sophie's boyfriend, Mark, aka Marky Mark, who beat me so swiftly at the card game I had just taught him (Egyptian Rat Screw) that my head is still spinning; Sophie's roommate Alessandro, aka Ale, an Italian who was always polite and drove like a bat out of hell down narrow gravel roads; Ale's friend from Italy named, of course, Fabio, who was on vacation visiting NZ just like us; and their friend Mauro, an Italian cook working in Dunedin with stunning green eyes and a man bun, who could pick up a guitar and strum along to even my most tone-deaf warbling. Plus me, Sophie and Mei.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After dinner each night at the bach, the group would follow a strict schedule of</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1) smoking hand-rolled cigarettes (dammit, Italians)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2) ignoring the game that I tried to get everyone to play (brutal flashback to teaching high school) and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3) singing songs with the ukelele and guitar going strong</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We sang lots of folky style songs (you are my sunshine, riptide, etc), but the main event came about every 30 minutes, when Mei and I could no longer resist belting out the Cranberries "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yam5uK6e-bQ" target="_blank">Dreams</a>." I started out on guitar with Mei on Ukelele, and when Mauro finished his cigarettes he would mercifully grab the guitar and leave me both hands free for my air microphone. These campers were treated to the Deluxe Version of this song, complete with my (*cough* <b><u>spot on</u></b> *cough*) Irish brogue imitation of Dolores O'Riordan. If you are verrrrrrrrrry kind to me and I have a guitar, I will sing this for you, IF I can fit it into my busy schedule. If no one is there to sing harmony we can video conference Mei in there. Does Tuesday work for you? How about 3pm? I'll bring the guitar. You can just sit there. No, really, I don't mind. SIT DOWN AND LISTEN.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, at the end of that song, there is a yodeling section which always got pretty out of hand. Our best version featured Mei and me doing the standard harmonies at glass-shattering volume, climaxing to Sophie and Mark bleating like sheep and Ale screeching a falsetto and mooing. It was magic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We did a few more days of hiking.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLk4Hg117-Jy0WOTlZGabGwDJTHRH6PsOznogY5qGafsSU94OmLkm5D5vQ0bPHoiD0jBFsroPCO8yxiYQa3_XjS2D9QjD-EkedpUqzXUPVBW9-YbKd_ahhPDf0hFUf5fDDacj4WNaS9Yg/s1600/IMG_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLk4Hg117-Jy0WOTlZGabGwDJTHRH6PsOznogY5qGafsSU94OmLkm5D5vQ0bPHoiD0jBFsroPCO8yxiYQa3_XjS2D9QjD-EkedpUqzXUPVBW9-YbKd_ahhPDf0hFUf5fDDacj4WNaS9Yg/s320/IMG_0202.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">For a more profesh version of this pic, see <a href="http://www.backpackerguide.nz/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/nugget-point-lighthouse-final-latest-edit.jpg" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILclBSdITvxxhQN-4v5IFMB04fIck7dkQuSHe5ZYSKX0Ck4TUBYRmneB8VVlb47wcYqWaZ2slt38PQzBpkQzS5BppcqI3WRIa7EmSTPfFuzi0E6Ip4j-jJ0Tk7gSc-U7cg0I6_0k4_AcH/s1600/IMG_0194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILclBSdITvxxhQN-4v5IFMB04fIck7dkQuSHe5ZYSKX0Ck4TUBYRmneB8VVlb47wcYqWaZ2slt38PQzBpkQzS5BppcqI3WRIa7EmSTPfFuzi0E6Ip4j-jJ0Tk7gSc-U7cg0I6_0k4_AcH/s320/IMG_0194.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the southern-most point in NZ, the wind is so strong that the trees grew like this. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlItOln_7sXMokMwfkeMd4kcg3bleZ4gqo7ITy3AqS8RXs6aAxlfWcIkqvjq0RALPEMYHgcK1ULoKd3ka1l9bZO22ORrekS6Hek68xYJmuGAPj8DfeUmJUorMtSJtvSLi5VChuOXZSPgD/s1600/IMG_0199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlItOln_7sXMokMwfkeMd4kcg3bleZ4gqo7ITy3AqS8RXs6aAxlfWcIkqvjq0RALPEMYHgcK1ULoKd3ka1l9bZO22ORrekS6Hek68xYJmuGAPj8DfeUmJUorMtSJtvSLi5VChuOXZSPgD/s320/IMG_0199.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fabio spots some vivid fungi en route.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of my favorite parts of the entire trip happened when we were tramping through the bush to the beat of Sophie singing her own version "Down by the bay." In case you don't know this diddy, the general gist is that you add an absurd rhyme to each verse. The bulk of our song was:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Down by the bay</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Where the little ferns grow</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We're off to tramp</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But before we go</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My mother would say...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever seen a ___[<u>noun</u>]____, __[<u>verb] </u>ing a _[<u>noun</u>]_, down by the bay!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So as we're walking we're each adding silly stuff to it, like:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever seen Elvis, shaking his pelvis! or</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever seen a bear, wearing underwear! etc.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And after most of us had had a go, Fabio still hadn't contributed anything. We would egg him on and he would just be silent or say "no you guys do it." And then we started the song again and out of the blue Fabio belted out joyfully: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"Have you ever seen a shark! Eat a little kid!?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And he sang the "down by the bay" by himself because we were all shocked into silence. Even more disturbing is the fact that he happens to be a scuba diving coach by trade. I'm shaking with laughter remembering it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">********</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's a pic of the gents. By the way, there is a "not blog friendly" portion of this trip, I can tell you in person or privately if you're curious.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQcvbEhyLSN34pkeEhMwZVMw6nAODIRLnwiA2LtjHGTCm1rGUyPzCRugwJe9rLWaIOZVqzFM99qw_eq3V0ki6_sAez8YyqrUfGNqeXyGEgbq0yrelIT-okUrDJxFRmDKx4DfAlyvbqGv-/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQcvbEhyLSN34pkeEhMwZVMw6nAODIRLnwiA2LtjHGTCm1rGUyPzCRugwJe9rLWaIOZVqzFM99qw_eq3V0ki6_sAez8YyqrUfGNqeXyGEgbq0yrelIT-okUrDJxFRmDKx4DfAlyvbqGv-/s320/IMG_0563.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mauro, Fabio, Ale, Mark ready for adventure, Figo looking like he didn't sign up for this.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We finally left the lovely bach and came back to Oamaru. Most people had to go back to work, but Fabio and Mei and I had some more exploring time, so we took a day trip to Lake Tepako and to see the Maori rock drawings.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhzbPUnrAPp8cHvfl_ZglplTyY5QVP-Yu12P0uRUeWDULZ8Fw0tbNNHMkNryT7x1oU4d5KwsUbcT09W-U0d2k_0duEjL-GYF-Ekm4T0CnOT4UdyOkqULwdDtKeKo9upZchdtwNixFeQwP/s1600/IMG_0304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhzbPUnrAPp8cHvfl_ZglplTyY5QVP-Yu12P0uRUeWDULZ8Fw0tbNNHMkNryT7x1oU4d5KwsUbcT09W-U0d2k_0duEjL-GYF-Ekm4T0CnOT4UdyOkqULwdDtKeKo9upZchdtwNixFeQwP/s320/IMG_0304.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzm6MzAf_iyUJKaTAp8qDrq61JTu_jd92a_7v5ceRzKY1aAq_90Atrb74n8K7Z5FPBJZbFmPqEe6xIkA1gnzCjyPiXdnJ_tVPGZ1xzcljGoiGzRnjVIN2AKCFub30PUfY5j5KOKdlaWPP9/s1600/IMG_0306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzm6MzAf_iyUJKaTAp8qDrq61JTu_jd92a_7v5ceRzKY1aAq_90Atrb74n8K7Z5FPBJZbFmPqEe6xIkA1gnzCjyPiXdnJ_tVPGZ1xzcljGoiGzRnjVIN2AKCFub30PUfY5j5KOKdlaWPP9/s320/IMG_0306.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maori rock drawings. Tourists had carved their names over everything. 😡</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't you hate when tourists do that? Like, does anyone care that you "wuz here 2009"??? It's like, "Man, I wonder who was here. Omg! Look! STEVEN! He was totally here... but WHEN? That is the question. Will we ever know? Oh, look! He really thought of everything. 2009. Mystery solved. Thanks Steven!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To wit: You can see penguins coming back to nest after fishing if you come to a certain part of Oamaru at the right time. As we were on our way to see this sight, Ale warned us that we might see a "crazy lady" there, screaming at visitors to stay "5 METERS BACK" from the penguins. It turns out that penguins are pretty skittish and if you get close to them, or shine lights on them, or stand in their path to their nesting young, they might bail and go back into the water for safety. This is really really bad since their babies will die if they don't get fed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So we went there, trying to be as respectful as possible. First, the good news: we saw penguins! You can watch what I saw <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BPClvP6lsre/?taken-by=manda_goes" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then we saw the tourists. People in cars who would deliberately shine their lights on the penguins to get a better look (it was past dusk and pretty dark). People who would bumble right up to the penguins and crouch in their faces to take a picture. People who would stand right in front of the penguins as they (the penguins) looked anxiously toward their nesting rocks. The first 5 minutes of this was understandable: "Ah, they must not have heard, you're actually not supposed to do that." But after 30 minutes my blood was boiling and I was calling out to people to get away. I had basically become the crazy "5 meters back" lady <i>within the scope of a mere half hour.</i> Imagine if you were there, seeing that every day!?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1H7SK6NGkM-GszsNKtqhxEAmpLzmahbUD5MKC6o15Jr5pSFaaSw-sHzAEU0I7fSiS5MBlyR0dCAA_wz8DNBbb22OWCIOTxEpA7fUOGt99CRwRHubgkcws3147XYw-xs2fpypQOpeFi7EB/s1600/IMG_0272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1H7SK6NGkM-GszsNKtqhxEAmpLzmahbUD5MKC6o15Jr5pSFaaSw-sHzAEU0I7fSiS5MBlyR0dCAA_wz8DNBbb22OWCIOTxEpA7fUOGt99CRwRHubgkcws3147XYw-xs2fpypQOpeFi7EB/s320/IMG_0272.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Penguins stopped cold when this tourist group got all up in their face.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMr4LK-nLdzMEms0p2vHHS2UlHngbWH3gC_gTwj6nXxxVjM0LHeyCiawVlyIf5EHnSuT5UVqvSVT1Vg7mUmOEcB-HqUZ6rDM4yPkY2R2l2SEAI27geP99UPPVcnSdlyKAxPaxLS_WCIjk/s1600/IMG_0323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMr4LK-nLdzMEms0p2vHHS2UlHngbWH3gC_gTwj6nXxxVjM0LHeyCiawVlyIf5EHnSuT5UVqvSVT1Vg7mUmOEcB-HqUZ6rDM4yPkY2R2l2SEAI27geP99UPPVcnSdlyKAxPaxLS_WCIjk/s320/IMG_0323.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the day we left Oamaru, Mei provided this addition to some sidewalk art in front of a cafe. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few more tidbits: Mei and I tried to ride a bicycle built for two. Obviously, we named the bicycle Daisy. It was really hard and we didn't last more than a few blocks. You can bet we sang the heck out of that song though.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWyWLQE-1QtJ8D1CpR9K7uXZKiAMEg8LKN1-uBpzsAvVUvwboKS3Gqs8Ny9rJ5m_5tpg1QMxWGcNxJ8gKMWnZ5AwmVAnUiqGchLKwZeMHYxPYrFkiIpZjZcmKeQlUO323H0tSwVOEwsLq/s1600/IMG_0240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWyWLQE-1QtJ8D1CpR9K7uXZKiAMEg8LKN1-uBpzsAvVUvwboKS3Gqs8Ny9rJ5m_5tpg1QMxWGcNxJ8gKMWnZ5AwmVAnUiqGchLKwZeMHYxPYrFkiIpZjZcmKeQlUO323H0tSwVOEwsLq/s320/IMG_0240.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Daisy was soon traded in for Moa, a single seater. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Little known fact: Oamaru is known worldwide for... you guessed it... <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steampunk" target="_blank">steam punk</a>! So regular buildings and even playgrounds (yes, playgrounds) had this somewhat eerie theme of Victorian-Space-Locomotive vibes. You could tell that every shop in the neighborhood eventually got on board since many people came from all over the world to the steam punk festivals that seemed to be quite common (there's one coming up in June). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCO7KLSJfJsapjXei7PkGX78wMgjt9s5PHJcEQQjG37RIHdLYCAZXvSFYZsvfpw0OklafAjIDZ2fUIKB8aR36Y1AnzkMatgkV9pSnBMx59f27oPDarNXyTEx7g5oDhVp_9VFyClA44TcFZ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-01-17+at+9.58.33+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCO7KLSJfJsapjXei7PkGX78wMgjt9s5PHJcEQQjG37RIHdLYCAZXvSFYZsvfpw0OklafAjIDZ2fUIKB8aR36Y1AnzkMatgkV9pSnBMx59f27oPDarNXyTEx7g5oDhVp_9VFyClA44TcFZ/s400/Screen+Shot+2017-01-17+at+9.58.33+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't even know this was a thing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdx5a0rkSvcHj5OYTrO7Y728FU3h7_6L3F9D7yh47_POlimF9zPa0Mh_0UBOyXg7oc6g1sLd8EJ4It_7LzRXAaWXUxU4OQOQ-now2fTIPElcjT9G6KuE47B1gDj-ShSxT5x92eDtJOBXaE/s1600/steam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdx5a0rkSvcHj5OYTrO7Y728FU3h7_6L3F9D7yh47_POlimF9zPa0Mh_0UBOyXg7oc6g1sLd8EJ4It_7LzRXAaWXUxU4OQOQ-now2fTIPElcjT9G6KuE47B1gDj-ShSxT5x92eDtJOBXaE/s400/steam.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks pretty fun, huh?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />It started with the understandable (a second hand clothing shop had major steam punk style clothes like corsets, top hats and monocles) and eventually devolved into the senseless (a handmade soap shop also sold jarring Victorian brooches and helmets with goggles on them). It's nuts!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhOJreHkpAXCEp8pDZK7wbIzUmccSiGpXErAzRoj0MMY-wuvE4vMeyX10buVTphVRnw5GJBRsfxZA9BuwkCOBI01Jmr1NKmKrf2S6P045LHGmRBPEoc-nVZrL9qeFtW-Djm-GFfctQf6e/s1600/sp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhOJreHkpAXCEp8pDZK7wbIzUmccSiGpXErAzRoj0MMY-wuvE4vMeyX10buVTphVRnw5GJBRsfxZA9BuwkCOBI01Jmr1NKmKrf2S6P045LHGmRBPEoc-nVZrL9qeFtW-Djm-GFfctQf6e/s640/sp.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pic from http://steampunkoamaru.co.nz/blog/</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">------ DEPRESSING ART PORTION --------</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We went to a small museum in Oamaru and I saw one of my favorite art pieces to date. The main exhibit was one of metal works, which were all really impressive; but one artist focused on "medals of dishonor" and really hit it out of the park. One huge medal (taller than me), hung from the ceiling. Along the ribbon part of the medal, which looked like a bandage, was printed "a drill chant used in the preparation of US Navy personnel for the invasion of Iraq </span><span style="font-size: medium;">(Quoted from 'The Ground Truth’: The Cruel Fate of Iraq War Veterans,” http://www.wsws. org/articles/2006/oct2006/grou-o25.shtml)<span style="font-size: large;">:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Bomb the village, kill the people, throw some napalm in the square.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Do it on a Sunday morning, kill them on their way to prayer. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Ring the bell inside the schoolhouse, watch those kiddies gather round. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Lock and load with your 240, mow them little motherfuckers down!"</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzoBK7joCikjqlbjmnXeukkwGqpH5TVCin6PemW54wi0J0k2PpoI_OAFuLuyh_5j1JuGg4HuujTfdvQy78pIXhLwHXPLKeCEdgOWCliPgYWNM84qbz6OMDzTDC2bqq-DcrZdVmDapGij5k/s1600/MR_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzoBK7joCikjqlbjmnXeukkwGqpH5TVCin6PemW54wi0J0k2PpoI_OAFuLuyh_5j1JuGg4HuujTfdvQy78pIXhLwHXPLKeCEdgOWCliPgYWNM84qbz6OMDzTDC2bqq-DcrZdVmDapGij5k/s320/MR_4.jpg" width="319" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">--------- END OF DEPRESSION ----------</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In case the Southern Island hadn't already enchanted me enough, Sophie introduced me to what is now my lifelong unrequited love: Hokey Pokey ice cream. It's kind of like a mix of birthday cake/cotton candy flavors... maybe with a bit of honey? I don't know, it's just crazy good. You can't get it in the US though. Because the world is a terrible place.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhw6Chz9csAwcA_SDya878tLAFLAbPxcMqOSRgSOEy4jtDkLvHFyBcuFWJAXTTPMx4CLHML_D9q7cG52b-JIJwVjy-RAykfQ3jZ4QENUpbGEq0W0bVdMJypbXEIwVJ8NqlScmXkXsZDmC/s1600/IMG_0310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhw6Chz9csAwcA_SDya878tLAFLAbPxcMqOSRgSOEy4jtDkLvHFyBcuFWJAXTTPMx4CLHML_D9q7cG52b-JIJwVjy-RAykfQ3jZ4QENUpbGEq0W0bVdMJypbXEIwVJ8NqlScmXkXsZDmC/s320/IMG_0310.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Come back, my love!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">------- ACTUAL END OF DEPRESSION ----------</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, it rained most of the time I was in Otago, except for our last day, on which of course I got a wretched farmer's tan and sunburn. But it was worth it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGc4RtR3yxBiDjMZCmN2nIE_-kRP3zxBj1bMpyBEmqCAm9CQVJIXHhABN5c9Ldc5lfF5-8cnSk4zNJ063tIl6eq5eNfIy1HOO2k4Ag7zsuRvO-YWoIklkia2JuE4IjVoK3KKF7qvMqtsie/s1600/IMG_0282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGc4RtR3yxBiDjMZCmN2nIE_-kRP3zxBj1bMpyBEmqCAm9CQVJIXHhABN5c9Ldc5lfF5-8cnSk4zNJ063tIl6eq5eNfIy1HOO2k4Ag7zsuRvO-YWoIklkia2JuE4IjVoK3KKF7qvMqtsie/s320/IMG_0282.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Southern Isles, baby</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not too much drama going on in Otago, as judged by a penguin molting by the pool being front page news. This is the kind of world I want to live in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was scheduled to spend the rest of my trip in this rainy little town, but I just couldn't sit with the idea of going back to Boston without some significant time in the sun. When I complained to people about this, they all had a common refrain: "If you want sun, you need to go to the North Island!" Little ol' me thought that NZ was such a tiny place that it would mostly have one climate. I was so, so wrong. NZ has everything from Antarctic tundra to rainforest to geothermal springs to tropical beaches, all with a 1st world standard of living. But I digress. It was time to change my plane ticket and make a last ditch effort at sitting in the sun: the North Island. Now, if only I knew some people there... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">TBC in part 5!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Book for this part of the trip: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XM1JP1Y/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1" target="_blank">La chica del tren</a> by Paula Hawkins</span><br />
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