Category: Uncategorized

2020 is off to a good start.

After an enjoyable, low-stress Christmas at Travessia, we travel north to Vilanculos.

Because we left it until quite late to book accommodation – especially considering that Mozambique is a prime destination for South Africans over their Christmas/school holidays – we take what is available.

We spend three days at the perfectly-fine Casa Cabana Beach hotel.

When our three days are over, we must move to the Bahia Mar Resort, just up the beach.

We snag the very last room. It’s kind of expensive. At first we thought this is because it’s New Year’s Eve.

Turns out it’s really because it’s the snazziest room they have – the ‘presidential suite’ or something. Which is probably why it is still unbooked.

We have our own private pool, with jacuzzi.

The bathroom is about three times the size of the average Japanese hotel room. You can take a shower while looking out over the ocean.

On New Year’s Day, we drive the nearly-deserted N1 road south on our way to Tofo Beach.

We drive through Inhambane on our way to Tofo. It has many colonial Portuguese-style buildings. These are rare in post-Independence Mozambique, at least from what we see so far.

We are booked for three nights in a place on the beach. However, as we approach town, there is complete and utter gridlock as people pour into Tofo for a giant January First festa.

We make alternate arrangements and return next day.

Besides tourism, fishing is probably the most common livelihood.

We eat a lot of seafood while we’re on the coast. In Vilanculos, we gorge on enormous Mozambique prawns. Cooked in our ensuite kitchen.

Tofo has a large craft market.

What I’m really looking for is a FRELIMO t-shirt. FRELIMO is the natural party of government here.

Another specialty of the country are these brightly-coloured textiles called capulanas.

I try to remain inconspicuous as a policeman hovers nearby.

Sight or Insight of the Day

After the exotic Travessia Lodge and the deluxe Bahia Mar Resort, it’s a pleasant change to be in our simple grass hut on the beach in Tofo.

Cheaper, too.

OK, enough is enough. It’s January 02, 2020 already!

After a long dry spell of no internet availability, we once more strive to catch up. We’re going to throw together a few photos and commentary until we get to more promising WiFi territory.

We spend a wonderful nine days in Kruger Park. Because it’s so fully booked at this time of year, we end up spending time in many different camps in different accommodations, including camping…

…as well as more sophisticated digs.

We see many animals and take many photos, but we’ll just show a few highlights.

Eventually, we head for the Mozambique border.

We broil in our car for 8 hours as we crawl the last six kilometers to the border.

In Mozambique, like many places, most people walk.

If you don’t walk, you have to squish into severely overloaded pickup trucks.

Goats ride on the roof. We see this more than once.

We are met on the road by Ben from the Travessia Lodge.

This is one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever been. If you ever win the lottery, book a flight to Mozambique and stay here for a week. Or three.

There are only five cabins. Besides the staff and our hosts Ben and Adel, our fellow guests are a pair of friendly couples from Capetown and Jo’burg and a lovely family (also from Johannesburg) and their delightful daughters.

There are friendly dogs on site. This is Essie, who keeps me company while I give the hammock a workout.

And this is Teekay getting the treatment from Maria, Ben, and Adel.

We spend a wonderful Christmas here before heading north for Vilanculos.

Sight or Insight of the Day – We Are Scatterlings of Africa

When we were in Johannesburg, I was sad to learn that musician Johnny Clegg died recently (July, 2019).

His crossover style in the early eighties on such work as ‘Scatterlings‘ gave the world a vision of South Africa beyond tear gas and unrest. I still belt out a slightly off-key version as we drive across the African landscape.

See you in another life, Johnny.

Just a quick entry to let the world know where we are.

We are happy to be here in Johannesburg, security concerns notwithstanding.

People take their security very seriously in Joburg these days. Most businesses and residential areas cower behind high walls and electrified fencing.

We stay in Sandton, probably the safest area in Johannesburg. Centrally located, we take Ubers everywhere, like most non-poor Joburgers.

Just as well that’s it’s cool and rainy for this time of year. We have a lot of business to take care of.

Our original plan is to purchase a car to drive around South Africa and the surrounding countries.

It turns out you cannot buy a car if you are a casual visitor to South Africa. So we do a long-term rental instead. We pick up a minuscule vehicle called a ‘Datsun Go‘.

We name him Nelson, in honour of Mr. Mandela. Our first stop is Kruger National Park, where we hope to pass some time before spending Christmas in Mozambique.

From Siliguri, we get a drive to Darjeeling over a mountainous route.

Our guest house is associated with the Singtom tea estate.

We take a tour early next morning.

It’s early because that’s when the tea that has been picked the day before is processed.

These are some of the oldest tea estates in the region.

One day, we arrange a drive into town.

Darjeeling is a hilly, busy place.

In Darjeeling, we visit the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute.

Then it’s back to the guest house.

Our guest house is very relaxing. It’s a few kilometers down a precipitous winding road from Darjeeling town.

When it’s clear, we can see Kanchenjunga from our property.

At Siliguri Airport, Dagmar arranges the delivery of 20 kilograms of tea she has purchased. This almost fills the freebie duffel bags we got in Nepal.

From Siliguri, we fly back to Delhi. We spend a night in the appalling Aerocity area near the airport. We leave early in the morning for the Jim Corbett National Park.

We stay at Jim’s Jungle Retreat. Despite the folksy-sounding name, this is a beautiful and luxurious resort.

We don’t see any tigers. Nevertheless, we go on a few pleasant drives in the park. We see this eagle of some kind.

And an elephant cavorting in the river.

Some park staff use domesticated elephants for work in the reserve.

We wait patiently by a dry riverbed in hope of a tiger sighting.

Finally, we head for home.

A fitting end to this entry. The next day, we take a seven-hour drive back to New Delhi. At the airport, we go our separate ways. Pete and Dagmar fly back to Canada direct. We fly to Johannesburg, via Addis Ababa.

Sight or Insight of the Day

After nearly six months in the area, we can’t say we’re sorry to be leaving India.

In most places we travel, the majority of people quietly go about their normal lives, whatever that might be. Some people stand out for being unusually kind or helpful, and these stand out in our memory.

In India, as usual, the majority of people quietly go about their normal lives. Some people stand out for being unusually kind or helpful, and these stand out in our memory. But many people here make it their business to cheat, mislead, or otherwise annoy or threaten us.

Besides, the universal dilapidation and general un-cleaness everywhere is dispiriting, as is the infuriating, grotesque inefficiency in getting the simplest tasks done. It’s definitely time to move on.

(Of course, this doesn’t mean we won’t be back one day!)

Our time in Nepal comes to an end. It’s been a good trip.

We arrive at Delhi airport and wait for our friend Dagmar to arrive on a flight from Canada. We accompany her on a Tea and Tigers itinerary.

Our passports are nearly full. We arrange to pick up new ones at the Canadian embassy here.

This plaque at the embassy has had the union jack on our coat of arms vandalized. No doubt due to the pathological hatred of the British inculcated by the modern Indian state.

Some sightseeing is in order after taking care of business (including the purchase of a new laptop). Like a visit to the Red Fort.

Meanwhile, I remain at our hotel trying out our new laptop.

Delhi is undergoing record-breaking bad air recently.

Next day, we fly to Jaipur. From there, we hire a car and driver to take us to Sawai Madhopur.

Our goal is Ranthambore National Park. We’re here to see tigers.

Tigers are rare in India these days, and getting rarer.

The scenery in the park is nice.

This rufous treepie is not afraid of a little human interaction.

I sit next to a toddler who keeps clutching at my arm with his clammy little mitts.

We cross paths with other tour vehicles.

Even without spotting a tiger, it’s a pleasant drive through the park.

We go on another excursion early the next morning.

The open touring buses can be quite crowded.

The sun finally warms things up a bit. It’s a far cry from the 45-degree Celsius temperatures that we experienced when we first got here.

You have to be very lucky to see a tiger here. We catch a brief glimpse of one, which creates a lot of excitement. But not as much as this event a few days ago.

There are herds of spotted deer everywhere.

And langurs. One enterprising langur raids a woman’s purse for a snack bar.

Then it’s back to town.

Next, we fly to Siliguri – via Delhi – on our way to Darjeeling.

Before driving to Darjeeling, Pete, Dagmar, and Maria visit the Salugara monastery.

There are many Tibetan refugees in India.

On the list is a Krishna temple. Also known as Sri Sri Radha Madhav Sundar Mandir, one of the biggest Krishna centres in the North-Eastern region of India.

It’s run by ISKON, which apparently is still a thing.

Lots of pink buildings.

Sight or Insight of the Day

Garbage is a problem in India. It’s everywhere. Nobody notices or thinks it’s unusual.

When we have a car and driver to take us to Jim Corbett park later in the trip, we pass the infamous Ghazipur dumping yard.

This is a mountain of fetid garbage on the eastern outskirts of Delhi that’s nearly as high as the Taj Mahal.

As mentioned in the previous post, our laptop packed it in, with its treasure of photos and documents. So it goes.

On our few days in Katmandu before heading off to Pokhara to begin our trek, we hire a cabs to whisk us to distant parts of Katmandu and back.

Such as Bhaktapur. Bhaktapur has a ‘durbar‘, which in Nepal means a square with many temples and stuff.

The same day, we visit another one, Patan Durbar, in Lalitpur.

The next day, we visit the cremation ghats at the Pashupatinath Temple.

Then we head for the Tibetan side of town. We visit Boudhanath, a neighbourhood made up mostly of Tibetan refugees.

We take a bus to Pokhara. From there, we begin our uphill trek to Australian Camp.

On the way, we see people carrying just about everything on their backs.

We pass through a few small hamlets along the trail.

They make swings out of giant bamboo here.

The first day is uphill most of the time.

This is Australian Camp. It’s the goal of day number one.

Many people gather to see the sun rise over the Himalayas first thing in the morning.

Pete and Maria here, greeting the morning sun.

Here’s a view of the mountains from the front yard of our accommodation.

Our key-holders are shaped like Ghurka khukuris. Pete wears his with panache.

On our way out of town, I befriend the village cat.

The beginning of the day starts on a pleasant downhill track.

We come off the trail and start down a busy roadway. We think this is temporary, but it turns out to be our route for the day.

We flag down a taxi to take us to Sarangkot.

Back in Pokhara, we visit the Gurkha Museum.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We come across a village where the local women are dancing to celebrate some sort of local holiday.

So of course, Maria has to join in.

The ladies are impressed with Maria’s Terpischorean prowess.

Faithful readers – a minor tragedy has occurred: our laptop has given up the ghost!

Yes, our MS Surface Pro 4 that has up to now performed yeoman service for chronicling our random rambles was turned off and was never able to be turned on again. Desperate Google searches came up zilch, successful-solutions-wise.

This is sad in itself, but the late, lamented MS Surface Pro 4 ALSO contained all of our photos and many important documents.

It may take a few days before we are up to speed.

We are now back in New Delhi – again! – where we purchase a brand new MS Surface Pro 6. We plan to send our non-functioning unit back to Canada with our friends – maybe its SS disc drive can be salvaged. We live in hope.

See you in another life, MS Surface Pro 4.

‘… And your strange, bewildering time
Will hold me down…’ – Cat Stevens

We arrive in Katmandu after an overnight flight from Sri Lanka.

(There are several ways to spell ‘Katmandu’. We go with the one that has the least letters.)

Like many developing countries, there is often a tangle of wires overhead.

There’s a lot of commerce going on. Mostly souvenirs and trekking equipment.

It’s a long way from the hippy days of the 60s and 70s. Still, we see cute elderly Western couples who look like they may be revisiting the venues of their dope-smoking youth.

Among the wares are textiles and fabrics of all kinds. Some are even authentic.

Also available: an army of Buddhas and other aids to elevated consciousness.

There’s always something going on in the traffic-thronged streets.

Our first morning: a flight to view the Himalayas is on the cards.

Notwithstanding the plane engine right in my face, the view is pretty spectacular.

The flight takes about an hour.

Some people would know the names of these peaks by heart. I do not. But the cabin crew give details.

‘ The mountains are known as the Himālaya in Nepali and Hindi (both written हिमालय), the Himalaya (ཧི་མ་ལ་ཡ་) or ‘The Land of Snow’ (གངས་ཅན་ལྗོངས་) in Tibetan, the Himāliyah Mountain Range (Urdu: سلسلہ کوہ ہمالیہ‎) in Urdu and the Ximalaya Mountain Range (Chinese: 喜马拉雅山脉; pinyin: Xǐmǎlāyǎ Shānmài) in Chinese.’ Thanks, Wikipedia

Surprisingly in this age of anxiety, we are allowed to enter the cockpit one by one for a pilot’s-eye view.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We stumble across the Garden of Dreams. Another real people place.

It’s a peaceful oasis of tranquility in the centre of cacophonous Katmandu.

Another example of how everything’s connected: one of the pavilions has a quote from the ‘Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam‘ engraved in marble.

A little over a month ago, we visited the tomb of Omar Khayyam in Nishapur, Iran.

We learn in Iran that Omar is better-known as a scientist than as a poet. Who knew?

From Mirissa, we head back up the coast to Galle.

It’s about an hour by tuk-tuk. We order a special ‘large’ tuk-tuk to accommodate three people and their luggage.

A good morning for a journey up the coast.

Some salt fish lie out to dry in the sun.

We arrive in Galle. Galle is above all a fortress town.

We stay within the fortress walls and walk around the ramparts.

The Black Fort was the original fortification built by the Portuguese.

Many of the buildings have a Dutch look.

Giant trees are everywhere, too.

You can smell the sea form anywhere in town.

This is Sri Lanka’s oldest light station, dating back to 1848, but the original lighthouse built by the British was located about 100 metres from the current site. It was destroyed by fire in 1934. The existing lighthouse was erected here in 1939.

Galle is a very walkable place.

Another view of the lighthouse. (Our hotel is on Lighthouse Street.)

Some of the centuries-old buildings are looking their age.

We visit the Maritime Archaeology Museum. So do half the schoolkids in town.

There’s an old Dutch Reformed Church in the middle of town.

These signs are everywhere. Usually found where workmen are welding with no goggles or angle-grinding steel in their flip-flops.

The Galle clock tower is a familiar landmark.

According to Wikipedia:

‘The Galle fort is a world heritage site and is the largest remaining fortress in Asia built by European occupiers.‘

We belatedly realize that there are no photos of any of us in this entry. I’ll remediate that with a shot of Maria at the gates of our hotel in Galle.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We take the train back to Colombo, and then another to Negombo.

Negombo is where our Sri Lanka trip began. We celebrate by going out for one last seafood feast at the same restaurant we ate at the first evening we were here.

Then we depart in the middle of the night for our flight to Nepal.

We go from Colombo to the beach town of Mirissa, in the south.

First, we catch the train to Matara. It’s late.

Not only is the train late – this train is supposed to begin at Fort station, ensuring that we get a seat (the entire train is unreserved). As it turns out, it begins one station before, so it’s packed by the time we board.

We squish three to a seat. It’s better than standing.

The day is overcast. By the time we arrive, there is thunder, lightning, and torrential rain.

We pass many small stations along the way.

If you like, you can hang out of the door for thrilling action shots.

The next day dawns bright and sunny in Mirissa.

The firstborn daughter of our good friends in Ottawa was named after this beach. She is now a beautiful 22-year-old.

There’s plenty of fresh fish to be had.

This is what it looks like before it’s on the plate.

Fishing is how people make a living around here.

An older gentleman does it old school.

The local seabirds eat well, too.

Fishermen use unusually-narrow, stand-up outrigger fishing boats.

Actually, we stay in Bandaramulla, about a half kilometre past Mirissa town.

The main village of Mirissa is a bit overdeveloped these days. Where we are, we enjoy a small private beach and lots of peace and quiet.

We develop a routine of sorts: breakfast, time at the beach.

Afternoons of leisure. Some more time at the beach.

Palm trees galore.

We try to see the sunset most evenings.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We don’t really have one for this entry. It’s a pretty lackadaisical few days on the south coast.

We find a local cafe where we have lunch and a cool drink at noon.

Then it’s back up the coast to the fortress town of Galle.