A Warm Visit To A Chile Place

Originally I was planning on heading up to Haiti and the Dominican Republic after my stay in Brazil, but as I've learned from this trip. Plans change. So when I realized that wasn't going to work out, I set my sights on finding somewhere else to visit in the South/Central America region. It was during this brainstorming period when I stumbled across my friend Teo's Instagram picture in Chile. In an instant I remembered that he lives there. It was perfect. Chile is close to Brazil and there was a relatively in-expensive ticket available. I messaged him and the plans were set, I would be visiting Santiago for my unoccupied week.

First thing when I got off the plane and out of the airport, we drove off (into the sunset) towards Viña del Mar. This little beach city is where Teo's mom and grandparents live. It is also apparently where he spends every weekend (and as it was a Saturday when I arrived, we had to go to Viña). The drive only took about an hour from Santiago, so I guess it makes sense that he goes so often. Why wouldn't anyone want to spend every weekend by the ocean?

I know I complained about the rain a lot in Brazil but it was pretty dreary. I was probably even worse in person to Teo when I arrive because he assured me that it basically never rains in Chile. That it might be super cold (as it was winter) but it was still usually sunny. This might normally be true (and I think it probably is) but it just happened to rain 3 out of 7 days I was there. Just my luck!

So we spent the weekend at the beach and it was sunny and nice for that day. I took a few hour walk with Teo's mom and their dog Luna down the coast. The little pup frolicked around on the beach and played with the cochayuyo (seaweed) that was washed up all over the shore. It was a crisp but sunny winter day and a perfect way to spend a sunday afternoon. My senses were overwhelmed by the sound of the ocean and the barking dog, the smell of seaweed, the feeling of the sun and the breeze, but most of all just that feeling you get when you're near the sea and you look out at the vastness of the water stretching beyond sight out to all corners of the earth.

From the sprawling coastline, with the cuchayuyo scattered along the sand and the waves crashing on the shore, we traveled an hour back inland to the foothills of the Andes. The massive snow capped peaks watching over this artsy, laid back city (which feels like the Colorado of South America). Chile is a ski/snowboarders (and surfers) paradise with the attitude to match.

However, there is also a thriving contemporary art community, which I'm sure has an equal impact on the pulse of the city. Because Teo had school and work during the week, I spent a lot of time wandering the city and visiting every art museum I could get my hands on (and there were plenty available!) I also had a few really interesting conversations with the few locals I met who spoke English, these all revolved around art, music, etc. Just generally creative endeavors.

I think I might be a bit smitten with Chile. It is either that, or Teo sold it to me really well (but he was off actually having a life most of the time, so I don't think that is why). One thing that Chile is not though, is cheap. It was almost as expensive as (if not more than) the UK, but at this point in my trip, being under budget, that didn't really seem to concern me. I guess the art, culture, and people gave me enough reason to ignore the price tags.

I did get to spend the evenings with Teo (which would have been more fun had it not been getting dark by 5:30pm every day). We usually cooked dinner and than became hooligans and just generally made a ruckus (but we made sure to be in bed by 9pm because, you know, school/work and stuff).

The last morning, just before I went to the airport, I had breakfast with another friend of mine from India. Guru Seva made breakfast and I ventured over to his place. It was so cool to see him after so long and get a chance to have a bit of a catch up. It was kinda rushed (but that is the story of this trip, so I guess it fit the program).

Now, ironically, the best part of my Chile adventure, even though I think it was my favorite (new) place on this trip, was leaving. The airport saga is a tale of its own. Little did I know that when I got back from my lovely breakfast, the animal farm would be waiting to greet me. Teo and his friend Seba had gone to a costume store (or something of that nature) and picked up a dog and a zebra onesies. They than proceeded to take me to the airport dressed like this, all the while waving around a Chilean flag. This caught everyones attention. It was kinda the best thing ever.

I did have to say goodbye to them and to Chile, which is had but I've gotten used to goodbyes. You could say at this point I am kind of a pro. The goodbyes have actually just turned into, I'll see you when I come back, because I will be returning to most all of the places I have visited (hopefully). Chile, however, is one place that I will return to. I have no doubt in my mind that within the next few years I will go back to this marvelous country. A place I enjoyed immensely but didn't even see close to what it has to offer.

Copa da Chuva 2014 (The Rain Cup 2014)

I said goodbye to my mother in Morocco, knowing I was going to see her again soon. I just had to make a quick pit stop in South America, to round off my 6 continents in 6 months (and see some old friends).

I said goodbye to my mother and along with her I said goodbye to most of the warm clothes that I had packed for my time in the UK. Turns out that was a bad idea. It wasn't an issue for my one day back in the UK (London was so nice and sunny that day, it was almost too hot!)

Because it was such a lovely day I strolled around Covent Garden. Saw some street performers, had a lovely Korean lunch and sat in the sun. It was a much nicer way to kill my layover time than sitting in the godawful place that is Heathrow airport.

Next stop (after about 9hours on the plane) São Paulo! When I arrived, my friend Gobind was there to meet me. It's been so long, I didn't even recognize him at first. I walked straight out of the airport and almost kept going, until I heard my name and suddenly, 'wa BAM' there he was!

We hopped on a bus, which took us to the metro, which took us to his car, which took us home. Now, I don't know how many of you know this but apparently there are these people in Beijing (maybe Shanghai, as well) whose job it is to stand behind the crowds who are trying to use the subway (during rush hour) and literally push them onto the train in order to fit the maximum people on board. Well let's just say, São Paulo metro felt like that had happened...

Welcome to Brazil!

After we ditched the quasi-India-like-sardines-in-a-can-metal-tube-speeding-through-the-city, we were spit out into a little naighborhood that I would soon come to know quite well over the next few weeks, because of our frequent journeys from Gobind's house to the metro.

Years ago, when Gobind first invited me to come visit him, I remember he used to talk about his house as if it was some sort of paradise on earth. The descriptions he would give sounded so heavenly that THAT is the main reason I felt I needed to go visit Brazil. Luckily, when I got there, his story held up. The place was (is) beautiful! With passion fruit, papaya, and banana trees, a swimming pool, a lush garden, a yoga room, and a lovely lawn all tucked into a jungle mountain overlooking the Saha (jungle/forest/mountain) on the outskirts of the city.

The only problem with this paradise was about 8 out of the 14 days I was there were rainy, cloudy, and gross. Now, remember how I gave my warm clothes to my mom to take home? This is why it was a bad idea. I knew Chile would be cold so I kept a few things with me. It's a really good thing I did that or I would really have been screwed. I know it's winter and all, but, COME ON, Brazil.

The good news was that the day we were in Rio was gorgeous (we did plan it that way, but still). Because Gobind teaches yoga Tues, Thurs, and Sat we had to work around his schedule. What we ended up doing was leaving Tues after his last class (at like 11pm) and took a 6hour bus to Rio. We arrived super early, crashed for a few hours, and than went exploring.

We ended up doing all of the touristy things in Rio. We were really efficient. Started by going up to the Christ, after that we headed right to the sugar-loaf, and finally, ended up at Ipanema beach where we had dinner. This was after we saw someone almost drown. It was pretty intense. They were just lying there with a massive crowd around them with foam or something coming out of their mouth. It was like, oh, nice sunny beach day. Nope, death. Gobind doesn't think they actually died and for my peace of mind I like to agree with him, but I'm not quite sure.

Since Rio is pretty dangerous (and seeing as we got very little sleep the night before), we decided to call it an early night. I was exhausted at that point anyways, so I crashed at about 7:30pm.

The next morning we had to leave Rio around 10am so we could get Gobind back in time for his yoga classes. It ended up being a lot of bus travel, but was also really worth it. I like Rio a lot (regardless of Gobind talking smack every chance he got).

Because the weather was so crap the rest of my time there (except maybe one or two days) we had to call off our trip to the beach. We were going to take the weekend and stay at a little beach town for a few days but instead we went to some really nice (but no beach vacation status) museums in São Paulo. I even got Gobind (who "hates art") to admit that he didn't have an awful time exploring the museums with me. I think in all we went to one museum about the dictatorship in Brazil and two (or three) regular art museums.

There was one other day with nice weather so we took advantage of the sun and general clear sky and went up in the highest building in São Paulo to see the city. It was a great view, although it's not the nicest looking city. We also toured around the city center, which included going to the first building in the city that is still standing and the massive cathedral that marks the exact center of São Paulo.

Besides these few excursions we did a lot of just hanging out at home. We cooked a lot, watched a bunch of movies, played some video games, read, and had some really deep heart wrenching conversations (minus the last thing, we don't talk, what do you think we are, social human beings?).

One thing I will say that Gobind was very good at introducing me to (besides his dislike for the majority of big cities in Brazil) was the traditional foods. We had some awesomely tasty things that I will probably crave in years to come. Passion fruit mousse (Mousse de Maracuja), a dulce de leche and chocolate sweet (Brigadiero), these cheese and veggie pastries (I don't remember the name), and the tastiest (gluten free) cheese bread ever. Think a Chinese tang yuan (glutinous rice ball, look it up! Or just look up Pão de Queijo) with cheese instead of sweet filling but with an initial crusty crunch.

The two weeks I spent in Brazil went by really quickly and I feel like we didn't even do that much because of the weather. It just means I have to go back during their summer when we can go lounge on the beach and pretend like we're doing more than lounging around inside the house on the couch. Also, I made friends with their scrappy cat, so I gotta go back to visit her. 

Don't Rock The Boat, Rock The Kasbah: A Reunion In The Desert

Morocco is a mess. But if you know me at all you will know that as far as countries go, I kinda love when they are crazy. India has rubbed off on me in the sense that, the more struggle you have to go through to get simple things done (and seemingly less trouble for complex things), the more I like it! 

Now let me preface this with the knowledge that I was traveling with my mom, aunt, and cousin, all of whom did not really like Morocco. So the fact that I enjoyed myself the amount that I did is all on me. It might have been the week before I arrived in Marrakech when they went to Tangier, Fes, and Chev Chouin without me that colored their experience and if so, I'm glad I missed it!

I joined them in Marrakech at our Riad (hotel) in the Medina (old walled city). When I arrived the crazy man who ran the Riad let me in and gave me tea while I waited for the others return. He was extremely pleasant to me (but apparently an insane bully to the others). 

We spent three nights and two days in Marrakech, touring the city before we left on our epic tour of the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert. 

It was a chance to get out of the city and really see the beauty of Morocco. We drove quite a bit, but compared to the amount of driving on my Africa road trip it was pretty tame. We stopped a few times each day and had tea and snacks. We also had a lot of random picture breaks. That was nice because my cousin and I were able to get some really nice shots.

Our first day through the mountains was all about the Berbers. We saw village after village nestled into the desert peaks. Our main stop that day was at an ancient Kasbah where they now film things like Prince of Persia and Game of Thrones. I wish I cared more about Game of Thrones because I seem to be doing the tour of where it was filmed.

That night our hotel was lovely (besides my mom having bed bugs and waking me up at an ungodly hour to tell me so...), it was right next to this little river in the shade of a massive canyon wall. It was like our own little Moroccan Zion.

We woke up and headed for the Sahara with a few pit stops on the way (one that included a giant, adorable herd of goats). We arrived around sunset, tied our head wraps, and mounted the camels. It was time to make the trek into the desert, to camp over night. 

An hour later, through oceans of sand and cloudy skies (and only one stop, because my aunt had a bit of an up-chuck problem) we sauntered into a valley with one towering dune gaurding our camp from the elements. We left our camels and made our way to home for the night, just as the sun was disappearing for good. 

It was Friday night and of course being a Muslim country, Morocco has a pretty anti-alcohol culture. For us Jews, Friday means Shabat and with Shabos comes wine. Our guide was all to happy to provide us with an outlet to practice out faith. So we said some prayers had some bread and vino and than out came dinner. Now let me preface this with a few notes on being a vegitarian in Morocco: don't. Unless you are going to camp in the Sahara and have a traditional Berber family cook you their homemade Tajine and couscous. We had all been struggling with food up until then. My cousin is gluten free (amongst many allergies) and my mom and I don't eat meat. This dinner was so good though, it made up for the lack of edible meals on the whole trip (in my personal opinion). The best part was, we could all eat it!

The problem with the desert was that we landed there on a cloudy night, (which meant no stars) full of humidity and damn was it hot! The tent left no space for any air to enter and the stuffiness was oppressive. I was alright until our guide decided to close the front flap to the tent. After he did that I had enough, grabbed my sleeping bag, and laid down on the sand outside. Eventually I got a mattress and slept comfortably until just before sunrise.

Than we climbed. My cousin and I hike the dune to watch the sun and take some pictures that I'm sure we'll cherish for years. It was beautiful, like no sunrise I've seen before. 

Just after we made it back to camp it was time to pack up and head out! The camel ride back was just as beautiful as the ride there, but I was so tired I'm pretty sure I almost slid off and died...

At this point we were all exhausted of driving and just wanted to make it to our next destination (and final evening of the tour). We stayed at an Oasis hotel with palm trees everywhere and a lovely pool. It was so nice to shower for real after our desert adventure. 

On our final morning, after leaving the hotel, we made a stop in the local town so our guide, Abdul, could pick up some things to take back with him to the city. As we were sitting there waiting for him to come back, some random guy opens the front door and puts a watermelon inside. We all kinda looked at each other like, 'I hope he doesn't expect us to pay for that cuz none of us ordered a watermelon'. We were still sitting there trying to figure it out when another random guy opens the door and puts in another watermelon... At this point we figure Abdul must have ordered them but my cousin and I were sitting in the back laughing our heads off at the SNL style sketch unfolding before our eyes.

 

Than Abdul returned with two bottles of coke and we drove off. We ended up stopping at a residence on the way where there were two camels waiting in a pen. Without any of us really knowing what was going on, Abdul gives a bottle of the coke to one of the camels, who proceeds to chug the whole thing. The other one refuses until the owner of the place shows up with a bottle of tea (we know which camel is gonna live longer, that's for sure). 

We made it back to Marrakech without any other incidents out of a sketch comedy act and were dropped off at our hotels. Because my aunt and cousin were staying in Marrakech for a while and my mom and I were heading to Rabat we had different hotels. They ended up being about a five min walk away from each other, so my mom and I trekked over to the other hotel where somehow they had finagled a suite with a shower the size of my bedroom at home (no, not bathroom that size, SHOWER).

There was no way I was gonna leave that room without taking a shower in the monstrosity. The problem was I didn't have any conditioner. So we called down to ask the staff if they could bring some up. When the guy finally arrived (after the fourth call) he came in and went straight to the AC unit. "Air Conditioner?" He said. We all looked at each other and began to crack up! "No, no, HAIR Conditioner" replied my aunt. I didn't get any conditioner, but I took a shower and washed my hair, regardless.

That was the end of our little adventure with all four of us (it was also Mother's Day) so we celebrated and then said a giant 'see ya later' to my aunt and cousin. We had to be up pretty early the next morning to catch our train to Rabat, so we couldn't take the party too far into the night.

The next morning we made it onto our four hour train ride to the coast. We had a nice little compartment with three other ladies and one of their baby's. All was quite normal and relaxed, except every time another train passed us it sounded like something was exploding and I pretty much jumped out of my seat I was so startled. Turns out I should have jumped, because the third time we passed a train going the opposite direction the glass window literally fell out of the train and onto me. Luckily, it was solid enough not to shatter and it hit my arm and not my head but, the freaking train fell apart... onto me.

Once we got to Rabat, our first stop was going to be our hotel, which turned out to be quite far outside of the city, on the beach. So instead we got a cab to the Brazil consulate to try and get my visa. This visa had been stressing me out for the last few months. Since I found out I actually needed one and realized there was no way I was going to be able to get it while I was in London, (my original plan) Morocco was the only solution. Turns out it was the easiest thing. I showed up, they gave me an idea of what I needed to bring, gave me an appointment and voila! We went back that Thrusday and I had my visa.

In the meantime, a few days lounging in the sun on the beach was a great call. It was a little weird, seeing as we were in a Muslim country where the few women you did see on the beach were most definitely not even in bathing suits. There were a LOT of guys and very few women. I felt very much like a spectacle so I kept to our porch, inside our gated hotel area (it still looked right out onto the ocean and you could hear the waves). 

The big events of Temara (which was the name of this beach suburb) was the massive soccer infestation that happened in the evenings. As soon as people started getting off work, the air filled with yells and the sand filled with footprints. There was almost no space to sit for a good few hours before sunset. The men all migrated there, to spend some time soaking up the sun, as they excercised and socialized to the rhythm of fútball.

We spent three days there and than two days in Salé, a city right next to Rabat. Really only two metro stops away. The place we stayed at was one of four Riads in the whole Medina. It was a walled city for the people, with very little tourist activity. The Riad was gorgeous and the people who owned it were extremely helpful. This was by far the best Riad experience I had the whole trip. It was also easy enough to get into Rabat for my visa and our final day of Sukh shopping.

Our last stop was one night in Casablanca. The hour train ride was easy, even with all of our stuff (although, I'm sure my mom would beg to differ). 

Our main excursion that day (besides the grody dhaba-esque cafe we ate at) was to the main Mosque. It is the only Mosque in Morocco that non-Muslims are allowed inside of, except of course on Fridays. It just so happened that we were there on Friday. We didn't get to go inside, but this building was worth seeing just for the exterior. It was also quite interesting to see everyone there for services. The people watching nerd in me was excited beyond belief! 

On our way back to our hotel from the Mosque and Medina, we got a little lost and ended up right in front of the one Synagogue in Casablanca. We knocked and they let us in. It was Shabat (again) and we probably should have gone back for services, which would have been quite different and extremely interesting (I'm sure) but after a long day in the city we just wanted to crash. 

Instead of correcting our misdirection by walking all the back to our hotel, we hopped in a cab. The way they do taxis in Morocco is either you get a normal meter or you can take a shared taxi where a few different people who are going to different places, that happen to be in the same direction all take the same driver. This is what we did. We hopped in a cab that already had someone in it to drop us at our hotel. When we arrived my mom handed the cabby what it said on the meter, minus what it said when we got in. He was not too happy about this. The guy started yelling about how she had to pay a few Dirham more. My mom was all 'no, I saw what it said, that ain't how this is gonna work'. He got so pissed that he literally threw the coins at my mom and drove off. We were in shock and just kinda stood there, until some nice guy began picking the coins up for us. Than the cabbie came back. I handed him the money and we walked away, as shouts accosted us from behind. 

And that was my last day in Morocco. I cannot say it isn't an exciting country, that's for sure! 

The airport was easy and I even made some new friends on the flight from Casablanca to Madrid. Then I flew from Madrid to London where I had a day layover, but that's a story for another day and another post.

Sorry this was so long, but a lot happened in Morocco. So much, in fact, I couldn't even get it all in here. 

From Scotland to Ireland to Wales: A Cathedral, A Castle, and A Bar (But Not In That Order)

Sorry this is coming so late but I had a phone malfunction and than I was uninspired since I lost all my notes...

But even though I fell off the face of the planet, I will backtrack and give you a summation of my travels in the UK (and Ireland).

I left London obscenely early in the morning on the 24th of April. This would have been easier if the Tube was actually open. I ended up getting a cab for like £10. Not too bad.

The nice thing about going so early was that I just crashed on the train and woke up at about 10am in Glasgow. I dragged my stuff to my hostel, which I could not yet check into but I dumped it there and went wondering. 

I ended up at the Glasgow contemporary museum for a quick visit before meeting up with a friend from Mount Holyoke who is now living in Scotland. 

The next few days were a joy! Jazz and I toured around, saw new sites, and generally just hung out. I got to immerse myself in the Scottish life (even with an American tour guide). There were a few really weird incidents, one being when some incredibly awkward Scottish dude (who thought I was Bulgarian) engaged me in a conversation I would never want to have again (and don't think I ever could because of how weird it was) while I was waiting to meet Jazz at subway. It was beyond bazaar.

My days in Scottland seemed to always begin at the Apple store (regardless of where Jazz and I originally intended to meet up), because they have internet. Started at the Apple store and ended on the clockwork orange (which is what they adorably call their subway in Glasgow).

My plan from Scotland was to travel through the night so I wouldn't have to pay for a hostel and so I wouldn't waste my precious daylight getting from Glasgow to Dublin. It was generally a good idea, it just felt like it took forever! Especially since I had to take two trains, a bus, a taxi, and a ferry. In total it was about a 12 hour trip, but felt like 3 days.

Luckily some seriously interesting and laughable events occurred to keep the trip interesting. 

I missed the bus I was supposed to take from my first train to the second because we arrived at the station about 7 minutes late. One of the ladies who worked at the station organized me a cab (since it wasn't my fault we didn't arrive on time). There was another lady there who also needed to get to Chester (where my next train was leaving from), so she joined me in the cab.

At one point in our conversation she explained to me, "I work with addiction and I was just at a conference all weekend. We just drank the whole time and I'm quite a light weight, so I'm excited to get home."

Me: *really*? Addiction? Drank all weekend? Ok...

I was dropped off and got a nice sandwich and almond tart during my hour wait. While waiting for the train to Lludhadno (or whatever it was called) I overheard an interesting conversation. 

Kid: you don't want to drive

Mom: that's right

Kid: it's cuz you're drunk right 

Mom: yes

Me: *double take*

I guess this is pretty normal for a Saturday night in Wales. But the delivery was so matter of fact it threw me for a loop.

I finally made it to the ferry and attempted to sleep but couldn't get comfortable awkwardly lying on my bag.  Instead I started up a conversation with this nice elderly man. Of course I go and find not only the one person in Ireland who has been to New Mexico but this guy actually lived there for like 5 years. He even knew where Española was, such a shocker! The ferry was uneventful, but waking up at the port to a gorgeous sunrise made my day.

After I FINALLY got to my hostel, I checked in, dumped my bags, and crashed on the lobby couch until my room was ready at 11am. Luckily, I woke up to about 5 random British douche guys sitting around me on the same couch, so that was awesome... I must have been quite a sight, dragging my exhausted, disheveled self with my hair all bed head and my glasses askew (not sure about this part, but I bet they were) past them, after being sprawled on the sofa next to them for a few hours, to take the elevator. Yup, making friends!

My only venture out that day was to the grocery store to buy dinner (turns out traveling all night doesn't always save you time... Only money).

There was this child at the grocery store in Dublin, who after cutting the check out line and running outside to join his friends starts yelling: "Everyone in there is legend! They all let me skip the queue. Every one of them is fucking legend." All I could think was, how old are you? Cuz he looked about five.

Now that I was officially on my own in a new city, I went exploring. I literally just walked around Dublin all day. It was lovely weather and a great solo adventure. However, I realized there was not much more for me to go see the next day and so when I got back to the hostel I booked a tour up to Northern Ireland. 

The next morning nice and early I set put for the Giants Causway and Belfast with my super international tour group. This was one of the best ideas ever; it was breathtaking! Also, Belfast was real interesting. It's like a completely different world than Dublin. You can totally tell that it's a different country.

That was my short stay in Ireland. Out of all the places on my Euro/UK trip, Ireland is the only one I think I'd go back to. I feel like there are some cool country pubs and cottages to be explored.

My time in Cardiff was less enjoyable. It's a cool city but generally, meh. I really loved the train ride there though, the north of Wales is more spectacular than anywhere else I've been (that might be an exaggeration, but it was cool). It's got the picturesque villages classic of England set on one side against the foggy coast and on the other against mountain cliffs. 

The most exciting thing I did in Cardiff was venture to the Doctor Who experience exhibition. It was a museum/theme park mashup, full of fellow nerds. As cool as that was, I wouldn't make an extra trip to Cardiff to go there again.

I wrapped up my stay on the British Isles at Oxford visiting Hari Rai who is at a creative writing grad program there. We had a lovely time, with the sun and the tea and the academia. We also got to see where the filmed a lot of Harry Potter (mostly the great hall and the academic stuff). 

We thought we would go punting (which is kinda like rowing a gondola but on a little river in Oxford and you get to drive it yourself) but the punts were all booked up for the Saturday that I was there and Hari Rai wasn't free on Sunday.

Instead the plan became Monday morning before I lwas set to leave to catch my airplane to Morocco. This was all good to go until... 

The night before, after an attempted software update my phone died. By died I mean, it decided that it needed to wipe itself clean and revert to factory settings. This usually would be alright except I have been traveling with no computer for five months, so I have not been able to creat a backup to restore my phone after it's tantrum. 

Eventually I had to accept that the only way for me to have a functional device, (at this point that was more important than all my notes and photos) was to continue with the update. This meant no punting. It also meant you guys got to wait EXTRA long for a new post! 

Coming soon... MOROCCO!

Keep Calm And Try Not To Go Broke

London is so expensive!

After traveling in countries like Bangladesh and Zimbabwe I have become used to the dirt cheap prices of an exchange rate unfairly in my favor. The shock of coming to London and suddenly paying $4 for a subway ride (as apposed to the rs. 20 in India, which I believe is like 4 cents) was really disconcerting. Luckily, you can mostly get away with going to free activities in the city but there is still food and transportation that you have to pay for. I wouldn't say I'm cheap when it comes to traveling but this is just ridiculous!

Beside that though, London is as lovely (and as rainy) as ever. I had some great adventures both by myself and with my awesome friends and family. Elanna and I went to Rochester (where Dickens lived) one day and spent time with her distant cousins. It was quite stuffy, traditional British town complete with super nice and very proper people (It just makes me realize how insane my extended family back home actually is...)

We also took a day and wondered down by the Thames. We saw Big Ben and The London Eye, which I have seen recently but Elanna had only been to when she was 5, so it was a mandatory tourist visit. We also made our way down to The Globe Theatre. Luckily, that day was not rainy, it was sunny and beautiful (for England). We even stopped at this little book market and bought Elanna this beautiful old copy of a Dickens book (don't remember which one).

The first day I arrived (before Elanna was there) I wondered around Camden and Euston all the way down to Bakers St. I did the whole, local, taking a day off thing. Bought a book, sat in a cafe, and enjoyed not being a tourist for a change. That's one of my favorite things to do when I first arrive in a city. It orients me in a strange way (seeing as I'm not really seeing the city). I think it gives me a chance to regroup and collect myself from a relaxed location while still interacting with the local people. Who really knows...

I also picked the perfect, gross, cold day to check out The Tate Modern (not the same day as the cafe wondering). I spent 8 hours in that museum... So. Much. Art. It felt like someone just vomited ALL of art history into one massive brick building. It was cool getting to see it all laid out in that way though. They have a ridiculous permanent collection. I mean, who even needs special exhibits when it's that extensive!

The last little adventure I took was out to zone 5 (if you don't know anything about the London tube, it is separated into different zone areas, 1-5. Zone 1 is central London and it goes out on both sides from there). I met Tarun, who is a friend of mine from India, in his hometown at Rayners Lane. We played pool and caught up on life and saw a really intense bar fight. Like a proper blood down the guys whole face fight. It was quite scary. However, the rest of that day was nice and relaxed.

I also got to catch up with my lovely cousin Allie (who I'll be meeting in Morocco along with our mothers in a few weeks). Don't worry, I won't give you any more spoilers. After spending a splendid week staying with my friend Sisi, I crashed with Allie the night before I headed up on a 5:40am train to Glasgow.

It was the way to travel. I crashed on the ride and woke up at 10:30am at the Glasgow central station. I walked a block or two, found my hostel, dumped my bags and am exploring until I'm allowed to check in. I am now in Scotland, totally ready to properly set out all by myself for a little bit.

The Ultimate Schmee-Venture Part 3: This Is Africa

Just to clue you all in, Goats For Superman Country, is not a thing but it should be!

For some odd reason when we were driving through Botswana, there was a sign that said GFS Country. We had no idea what this stood for but the amount of goats we had seen on the road thus far meant that 'Goats For Superman' was the only explanation.

Anyways, last we heard our young explorers were in Walvis Bay with Bhaj's family. There were only a few days left of the Africa adventure but they turned out to be much more eventful than imagined. What should have been a straight shot to the Western Cape, turned hectic really quickly.

After two days in relative civilization, which consisted of dune climbing (and running down), pelican and flamingo watching, and of course a Braai (barbecue), we set out on our last little push before reaching the farm in Robertson and then Cape Town.

That night we made it just past the Namibia/South Africa boarder. We thought about camping by the Orange river, right past the border, but once we failed miserably scouting out a good location the only reasonable next step was to move on.

We ended up finding a campsite that must have been the coolest yet. It was off the road onto some flat, solid, dirt expanse that was punctuated by what looked like massive rock piles. This was terrain right out of a Mars science fiction novel. It was also far enough off the main road that there was absolutely no one around (not so much of a blessing, it turns out). The other great thing was, since we were in the desert, no Mosquitos (well, no bugs at all really). This meant we could sleep with the doors open. If you've ever seen the night sky in the desert or in non-city Africa, you'll understand how amazing that was, if you haven't, go! Do it!

The trouble started the next morning as we got ready to get back to the main road. Bhaj seemed to be quite set on exploring our surroundings via car before we headed out. This was fine, until we hit a patch of sand that (like Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings) would not let us pass.

We ended up spending 7hours digging ourselves out of the quicksand. In that time we only moved 14meters, that is 2meters an hour. At first we had no clue how we were going to get out. Bhaj tried just digging but that did not work. In the end we found some big (relatively flat) rocks and put them in front of our tires to inch onto. Having two wheel drive meant we only had the front to worry about and also that we were essentially dragging the back of this delivery van through the sand. After we inched onto the first rocks, we put some more in front of those and inched onto them, and continued doing this until we were finally out.

The verbal excitement that we both let out when the van finally drove from the pit of doom, probably woke some sleeping goblins, somewhere. It was one of the most fantastic moments of my life seeing that thing actually drive.

Working from 9:30am til 4:30pm in the middle of the desert, is not my idea of a good time. All it means is sunburn, dehydration (regardless of the excessive amounts of water we consumed), and exhaustion.

I don't even remember the drive from there to Robertson (besides the most incredible sunset I think I've ever seen, complete with double rainbow).

We arrived to the farm at midnight and crashed. That was enough excitement to last through the next days of relative monotony that is an Eco-village farm.

I spent a few relaxing and welcomed uneventful days, cooking with fresh vegetables from the garden, catching up on internet, and playing with cats, dogs, horses, and pigs. Once I got my fill of the retired life, I headed into Cape Town.

I spent four lovely days in Cape Town and needed about 40 more. I saw old friends, walked around the city, was hit by the largest wave of nostalgia in my whole life, and saw an incredible exhibit at the National Gallery. It was a short yet extremely sweet visit that will have to be repeated sometime soon, definitely with more time allotted.

Now a few little facts, before we leave the Africa roadtrip adventure too far behind.

The amount of money we paid out to police as bribes for our trip was 1300 ($130) rands in tickets only 100 rands of which was legal. The legal bit went to a police man in Zim who actually wrote us out a ticket. We paid 300 in Namibia, 900 in Mozambique (700 to one guy and 200 to another) and nothing in Botswana (where I think we only saw one cop the entire time)

The things on our driving that we almost hit (this doesn't include the thousands of bugs and butterflies we did massacre, sorry). We barely missed a cow in SA; a chicken, a rabbit, and a kid in Mozambique; a goat in Zim; and a donkey in Botswana. There was also a police officer, but I don't remember where that was...

This reflects the living things we saw way too many of along the side of the road in each place. In Mozambique there was never a second that some person was not walking along the highway. In Zim, Goats! Botswana was the land of donkeys, and I'm pretty sure we didn't see any life, anywhere, in Namibia.

These two weeks were jam packed with action and the only regret I have about my entire time in Africa is that there wasn't more of it. Literally, if you ever go traveling through Africa, give yourself a year! At least!

I am now in London, missing Africa but becoming ever more excited to see where the road will lead me next.

The Ultimate Schmee-Venture Part 2: Goats For Superman (GFS) Country (cause what else could that stand for?)

When we left off, our hero's were just about to leave their comfortable beach cottage in pursuit of some danger and adventure.

The next step of our journey landed us right back in the heart of Mozambique. Leaving a bit late that day we did not cover much distance before dark arrived. We found a little corner to park the van (amongst tall grass and unbeknownst to us, a stones throw away from a little village).

Luckily, nothing happened that night and we set off for the province of Sofala. When we fist arrived at the Mozambican border in Swaziland we had been warned that there were rebels fighting in this area. We thought about changing our route but that would mean heading back along the road we came. Instead we asked at Turtle Cove. The lady there told us that as of this month there was officially two months of peace. This was enough assurance for us to push on.

When we got to the weigh bridge that marked the entrance into Sofala, the guards stopped us and in their broken English and my broken Spanish communicated to us that we would have to wait until 2pm (it was 11:30 at the time) to cross. As we waited in a little patch of shade, we saw groups of soldiers arriving in trucks, decked out in their uniforms with guns and amo.

That wait and the following convoy assembling that occurred after we crossed the bridge, were quite worrying. In fact, I felt most concerned before we actually headed into Sofala than I did the whole time we were there. The convoy was 130K of slow buses and annoying cars trying to overtake, but at least we didn't get killed by bandits.

The next day we crossed the border into Zimbabwe and as we did we both let out a unison sigh of relief. We were finally free from the prison of coconuts (which I mentioned in the last post and goes back to a little comment from a friend of mine in India about Amritsar being a prison of butter. Those of you who have lived there know what I mean...) and on into Zim where the landscape was breathtaking, the weather was cool and crisp, and the people were super chill. We went through ridiculous police road blocks in Mozambique and ended up paying 900rands in bribes, whereas in Zim when we got to the same checkpoints, the police would stop us purely to ask how our day was and than let us continue. We ended up paying 100rands and the dude actually wrote us out a ticket and everything, no pocketing the cash at all.

Besides the Zim people being chill, the roads were actually drivable. We even were able to go off the highway onto a main road (and it was still nicer than the one highway in all of Mozambique). Who would have thought!

That day we spontaneously stopped at the Save River (Rio de Save in Portuguese, since we had passed it in Mozambique as well). To make it even better we decided to jump in and go for a swim. The water was clean and refreshing (tip number 135, when roadtripping one should never give up the chance to bathe).

It was as if this day couldn't get any better, until we found the perfect camping place. Down a dirt road and under the most picturesque African tree. We arrived at sunset and set up camp. Under the most magnificent stars I have ever seen in my life we retired and watched the Lion King (yes, we are major cheese balls).

The morning came too early with regret that we would be leaving Zim. With this sadness, however, was the excitement of exploring Botswana.

I thought people couldn't get much chiller than Zimbabweans, until we were in Botswana. Beside the fact that they have like half the population so you scarcely even run into people anywhere, those you do meet are lovely (and I don't remember ever being stopped at a police check point).

That day we drove through the land of Bushman. It was a long, hot, pretty boring day. The landscape was virtually unchanging and flat, and the sun beat down through the windows. Somehow, even though this day was longer than the one from Maputo to Inhambane, it was not nearly as stress inducing.

We pitched camp quite early that evening in the middle of some salt pans. As we sat and watched the sunset a woman and her child from a nearby village stumbled over to us as she herded her cattle. We struck up a conversation. I ended up getting a picture and she got some of our extra yams (that we bought in the Plumtree market earlier that day).

The next morning we headed towards the Namibian border. Driving through the Kalahari, all I wanted to do was jump into some water. The map even showed me that there would be a lake on the way, just after we passed the base of the Okavango Delta. Unfortunately, that dang thing lied to me. There was no lake, only more of the same flat, boring landscape that we had grown accustomed to seeing in Botswana.

We didn't quite get to Namibia that day, instead we camped in the desert. We pulled off of yet another road to camp near a tree, this time amongst hundreds of locusts (but much fewer Mosquitos, so that was nice.)

The next days journey, took us through yet another border, and yet another currency change. We headed towards Walvis Bay, where Bhaj has family. Heading towards his Aunts place we drove, and drove, and drove some more. Pretty soon we went from the prairie right into the heart of the desert. There really is nothing like sitting in a car and just watching as the landscape shifts, right before your eyes.

As we got to Walvis we encountered one I the most incredible sunsets over the sand that came about due to the heavy mist that descended from the sea. It felt apocalyptic (not the first time on this trip). We decided to pull over and eat some leftover oatmeal from that morning and watch the sunset. We would have to arrive at our destination in the dark anyways.

We arrived and had a nice meal, some hot tea, a refreshing shower, and warm bed. Of course this was after we spent a few hours joking around with Bhaj's aunt, uncle, and cousin.

The saga will continue with the rest I our stay in Walvis and the journey to Cape Town. Just hang tight.