Okay, that's enough meloncholy about finishing the trip. We have the next 50 years to reflect on this trip. Lets get you up to speed:

The last time we blogged we were dodging the oryx horn curse and headed for South Africa. Obviously the curse didn't cross the border as easily as we did because we arrived unscathed in good ole Springbok country. First stop: Stellenbosch. A wine lovers paradise! Rolling vineyards set against a mountainous backdrop with college students drinking in cafes as the autmun leaves fall from the trees. Dreamy....which is why its a darn shame I don't like wine. My friends can vouch that I've officially come out of the closet this year as a non-wine drinker. I just don't like the stuff. I can swirl around the glass, pretend to smell oak and eucalyptus, comment on the tannins with the best of them but I'd much prefer a Diet Coke, vintage 2008 fountain any day. (Note that I thought wine "tannins" were called "talons" until Colin corrected me. Oops.) Fortunately for Colin he enjoys a glass or two of the red stuff and fortunately for me most of the places in Stellenbosch where you can taste the wine offer a bit of cheese as well. Dear Cheese, I love you. Love, Mary.

It is a bit unfortunate for you wine loving blog readers that given my distaste for such things I can't recall a) where we went wine tasting or b) if it was any good. All I can say is that the cheese platter at Cafe Fromage was DELIGHTFUL! If you have any additional questions about Stellenbosch please direct them at Colin.

The day after Stellenbosch we were headed to a place that Colin and I have been eager to see: Cape Town. Many of our pals (shout outs here to Lauren, Pat and Blake) have told us that Cape Town is a fabulous city and we'd enjoy it tremendously. Many have often remarked that it has that San Francisco feel to it which is a huge bonus considering my love for San Fran (shout outs here to Aunt Mar and Sister Judy). The real draw to Cape Town is its setting. Its located at the base of Table Mountain and stretches to the Atlantic Sea. A "must do" Cape Town activity is to climb Table Mountain and watch the sunset on one side and the city lights from the other. Sign us up!

Here's the kicker: On certain days Table Mountain is covered at the top by what is known as the Tablecloth, a layer of fog that prevents visitors from taking in the magnificent view. We were in Cape Town for three days. Each day the table had been set and apparantly the tablecloth has the capability of extending all the way to the floor. We didn't even see the bottom of that mountain and we were lodging a mere 300 meters away. (Note to non-metric friends - this is extremely close). Darn you oryx horn!

No worries - Col and I had plenty of other activites to occupy our time in Cape Town. The other main attraction was a visit out to Robben Island, the prison where Nelson Mandella lived for many years. The tour is actually conducted by ex-prisoners. I had been looking forward to this as I've heard from numerous sources that its extremely educational and moving experience. I'll have to take their word for it. Cancelled due to fog. Moving on....

Any good Van De Walle female knows that if the weather doesn't agree with your planned activities you do the next best thing: shop. Col and I spent a good deal of time doing just that. We strolled down Long Street, the Bucktown-y part of the city, and made a trip to the V&A Waterfront, the way cooler Navy Pier of CT. It didn't take long before we (and by "we" I mean Colin) tired of shopping so we decided to hit a few more sites. This is where our curse ended and luck finally re-entered the equation. We met Frank.

Folks, if you are ever, EVER in Cape Town you must call Frank the taxi driver. People have casually entered his cab for a $5 fare and ended up with Frank for a 9 day tour of Cape Town and the Garden Route. He's fantastic. Frank was born and raised in Cape Town and is one of the most helpful, fun and delightful guys around. He first drove us to the Kirstenbosch Gardens (more on that below) and picked us up later to take us to Robben Island. When that was cancelled he saved the day by taking us on a tour of the Bo-Kaap district and the rest of the city. He took us to the District Six Museum to learn about the colored people (see definition of "colored" below) and how one of their major neighborhoods was demolished during apartheid. Another educational opportunity missed - it was closed. No worries, Frank decided to give us his own history and perspective of living in SA during apartheid and how life has changed since. (Editor's note: First Robben Island cancelled now District Six Museum closed. Hey, we tried to learn about your history CT but you kept bringing us down.)

Anyway, Frank is considered part of the "colored" Afrikaans community- the group of people who are neither white Afrikaan or black Africans. It's not a racist term at all (we asked)- its just what this group of mixed race, Arabic, Asian, etc. folks are referred to as collectively. Frank is the son of an African woman and a white British man. His stories about living in Cape Town during apartheid were both fascinating and alarming. During the time of "white rule" the colored people were treated like the Africans and terribly discriminated against. The black and white issue is something we all know at least a little bit about (and would know more if the darn museum was open) but it was interesting to hear where the colored group fit in. According to Frank the first few years post-apartheid were promising. Unfortunately, there is a general sense now that the current government is just as corrupt and discriminating as it was in the past only the racism is reversed. Its his feeling (and the feeling of many other people we've spoken to) that the new South Africa is only a hair split away from becoming "like before" if the corruption and racism isn't controlled. He says the colored people are stills stuck in the middle and that its a shame more people don't realize apartheid and the current situation is more than just a black and white issue. Needless to say, I will certainly be learning more about apartheid and paying closer attention to international governments when I return home. A very interesting and insightful guy that Frank. And he'll pick you up from the airport at any time of day - that's a promise!

Okay - on to less serious matters. Kirstenbosch Gardens: A World Heritage Site. No trip to foggy Cape Town would be complete without a visit to this stunner of a botanical garden. It absolutely took our breath away. Our breath and the breath of about 12 East Indians - the only other people in the whole of the grounds. I guess there are some bonuses to coming in the off season. Anyway, I would rank Kirstenbosch up there with any of the natural wonders we have seen on this journey in terms of beauty. Serious flower power. I say this and there weren't even any flowers in bloom (remember May is the SA November). Regardless this garden packs a punch. Google break! We've arrived at the part in the blog where you can break for 10 minutes and look up some images of Kirstenbosch on Google. My recounting of its beauty won't do it justice. In a nutshell: Go there. Stay there. Eat a sandwich in the cafe.

So, after a busy day of shopping, hanging out with Frank, visiting the Botanical Gardens and taking a final stab at education by visiting the Cape Town Slave Lodge museum, Col and I wrapped up our stay in this beautiful but foggy city by doing what we do best - eating a slab of wildebeast and going to the movies. Like Colin said to me last night, "I bet the folks at home don't picture us in Africa strolling along the waterfront with an ice-cream cone after the movies." Ah, Cape Town. A little slice of African Heaven. Oh, and I almost forgot...for those taking the virtual African pub crawl with us - Hansa beer. Delicious.

Well, that's about all I have in me for today friends. We are at a beautiful B&B in Hermanus, SA winding down after our exciting GREAT WHITE CAGE DIVE today. It was incredible(as Uncle Norm, part of the Original Five, predicted) but we'll have to save that for another post. Word to our families: We still have all of our arms and legs.

Love from South Africa....

Hiding Under the Tablecloth in Cape Town remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I believe we last left off in the German oasis of Swokomund, Namibia. Our adrenaline fully pumping and the bags packed back into the car we headed off for our next destination: Sossusvlei National Park. This is home to the images of Namibia that you may be most familiar with after your extensive Google search of this fascinating country. Enormous coppery red sand dunes melting into jagged rocky hills, salt pans peppered with dead trees, endless rolling mounds of ever-changing desert landscape. Most visitors come for two reasons: to hike Dune 45 and to take in the stunning Sossusvlei. Both of these activities were on the agenda and we were anxious to see what the area had in store.

Free from camping for one more night, we rolled into our accommodations at Desert Camp - individual "tents" in the middle of the desert - and enjoyed a rare couple hours of just chilling out. To be clear, the "tents" at Desert Camp were more like individual chalets. They were about as nice as you can get in the middle of the Namibian desert...or so we thought. The plan was to head to Dune 45 for a sunset hike about an hour or so before sunset.

Dune 45 for you non-Google fans is the only major sand dune you are aloud to hike up in the Park. Its very trendy to climb up at sunset or sundown in order to see the dune's sand go from brown to copper to a brilliant red. Its also quite practical to hike at this time as the dune is located in the desert and you stand a solid chance of burning your feet on the sand or getting a nasty burn if you hike up in the middle of the day. You fans of the Indiana Dunes know exactly what we mean.

Here's something I didn't know about myself: I'm deathly afraid of climbing up extremely steep sand dunes. Who knew? I was all smiles and "lets go gang" when we set out but literally 10 minutes into the hike I was frozen on that hot dune like a dik-dik in headlights. To be fair, it was EXTREMELY windy that day and the strong wind coupled with the pelting sand was enough to give anyone pause. I suppose that's how it got to be a dune in the first place but I wasn't that keen on the whole wind thing. And it just looked so steep! Sure there were 4 year olds running down the side of his "steep dune" but it was still darn scary to me. Col ended up coming back down the dune to coax me down the side and out of harms way. A real desert hero that guy. Fortunately the scare on the dune did not take away from the breathtaking scenery and I was able to enjoy Dune 45 for it's natural beauty. Bravo to the rest of our group who made it to the top without fail and thank you to them for not rubbing it in my face.

That night we were treated to dinner at what is officially the nicest place to stay in the area the Sossusvlei Lodge. They have this fab game meat buffet and Col and I rounded off the gastronomic part of our journey with a couple fillets of impala, hartebeast, kudu and the best of the bunch: zebra. Who would have thought zebra would taste so good? The real disappointment was the Nile Croc tail. Ugh. Like dry fish with a hint of chicken. If you come across it give it the wave on. Not worth the calories.

The plan for the next day was to get up early and make our way to Sossusvlei, an area in the park that is known for it's salt pan, dunes and dead trees. After killing 45 minutes there we would head out to our next destination - Aus. Aus is known for being the halfway point between Sossusvlei and Fish River Canyon and for its great camping and proximity to the only herd of feral desert horses in Namibia. Delightful! Before we did that, however, we tried desperately to book a morning safari walk with this guy Bushman who is known in the area for his fantastic desert wildlife tours. We called and called and eventually cursed and cursed Bushman because he never called us back. We had been looking forward to this desert tour so it was a major disappointment when he didn't call us back. Darn that guy! Oh well...we could just make up our own useless facts about the desert. "Did you know dunes are caused by unicorns? Yes! Their wings cause the sand to fly into the air..."

Arriving in Sossusvlei I immediately noticed that the best way to appreciate the surroundings was to, you guessed it, climb a dune and survey the area. Bummer. Determined to redeem my poor showing on Dune 45, I followed my trusty partner in crime up the Sossusvlei dunes. Well, look at me! There I was making a total mockery of that dune. I was practically skipping up the darn thing! I suppose I owe this surge of confidence to the fact the dune was a lot flatter and there was absolutely no wind to contend with but I like to think of it more as a triumph of spirit. And to the victor went the spoils of some fantastic views of the pan and the surrounding dunes. Really a magnificent place. Even Alex who has traveled to some of the worlds most wondrous spots had to admit that he had never seen any place like it. Well done, Sossusvlei!

Alex, Col and I spent a little more than the allotted time hanging out in the dunes so by the time we got back to the cars only one was waiting for us. The girls (Jo and Lee) had left with James to do a few chores and we were to go back in Annie's car and meet them for a fill up at the petrol station. You may be saying "that's a lot more specific then you've been in the past about your travel plans from point A to B." Yes, that's true but its relevant here because this never happened. We never drove out of the park. When we got to the car it wouldn't start. Dead as the trees in the park. Yikes. A double yikes because we had stayed a little later goofing around in the dunes and didn't notice that all the smart tourists had headed out of the desert before it got blazing hot. Oops. Fortunately there was one car left - a safari vehicle taking 2 Germans on a private tour. After officially proclaiming our car dead the driver offered us a ride back to the gate. You may think this is an extremely lucky turn of events and you'd be absolutely correct. The park entrance was a good 40 minutes by car and the only way to get there was to walk. Some of you may not have noticed but Col and I aren't really "desert people." We would have lasted tops 30 minutes on foot...especially because we only had about 1/2 a liter of water and a few chocolate cookies to sustain us. And really, chocolate cookies aren't made for the desert either.

The real bummer of the breakdown was that the car required a new part not just some simple garage maintenance. Those of you who may have traveled through Namibia are fully aware that there are little, if any Toyota parts distributors in a 300 mile radius of anywhere. We thought we were screwed...until a strange twist of fate came our way. It turns out that the Toyota dealership in Windhoek (the capital city) had one starter motor available for our car. Guess who was in Windhoek and willing to drive the part out that very night? The very man we were cursing not 12 hours beforehand - Bushman! Apparently he hadn't answered our calls because he was away getting his cars fixed. Coincidence? I don't think so. God love that guy.

We were "forced" to stay at the swank Sossusvlei lodge that night and dine yet again on their delicious buffet of game meat while the car was fixed (Editors note: anyone who thought we might come back from Africa down a few lbs will be sorely disappointed). Although it was a super huge bummer that we had to miss out on Aus and spend the entire next day (Lee's last) driving from Sossusvlei to Fish River Canyon it was just as much of a relief that the car broke down where it did vs. out in the bush. I shudder to think.

The next day we headed out for the 9 hour drive to Fish River Canyon. Fish River Canyon is second only to the Grand Canyon in size. The goal was to get there in time to view the canyon at sunset. Of course we would have enjoyed a hike down into the canyon but this is no longer an option unless you take a 2-5 day guided hike. Apparently some French guys went down there without enough water and didn't make it out thus ruining the fun for everyone. French guys (editor shakes her head). It was really important for us to get there on time because Lee had actually extended her stay just to see Fish River Canyon. After all of her spills and thrills on the sand dunes at Swokomund the least we could do was see the darn canyon as the sun went down.

Yeah. Didn't happen. The curse of the oryx horn strikes again everyone. The first sign was the late departure. Apparently the mechanic was supposed to get up at 6 to start on the car. I guess 6 to us meant 8 to him. Ouch. We were supposed to leave at 8 but made it out of there at 10. The ole Sossusvlei Lodge starts to lose a bit of its sheen when you are just sitting in the lobby waiting for 2 hours. Once the car rolled in we eagerly popped in the cars and headed out. About 5 hours into the drive one of the tires on Annie's car blew and blew in a way that would lead you to believe it had something personal against us. 45 minutes, one spare tire and a cranky James later and we were back on the road...for about an hour. That's when Annie radioed us to say that she felt the spare we put on was feeling a bit funky. Good instinct Annie. The tire we had just put on had developed a strange case of boils in the short time it had been carrying our load. The thing looked like someone had blown massive bubbles in several locations on the tire. Another 45 minutes for a change...only to realize the next spare was flat. Another 20 minutes to change that one and we were off again. By now the sun was quickly making its way towards the horizon and we were all making our apologies to Lee. Needless to say we arrived at Fish River Canyon in the dark and the thing could have been 10X the size of the Grand Canyon and we'd never know. James, exhausted by the driving and the tire changing decided to screw camping and booked us all into this little mountain self-catering place (a small bonus). We toasted to Lee that night over hastily made spaghetti and meat sauce and joked that certainly the oryx curse was over once and for all.

The next day we woke at 5 and motored to the canyon to see the sunrise. It was, well, a large canyon but quite beautiful in the morning light. I think these are places that are best appreciated with a hike but hey, nothing you can do (editor shakes head at French again). We said our goodbyes to Lee and Annie as the road off into the sunset to the Windhoek Airport. James, Colin, Alex, Jo and I piled into the car for yet another long day on the road. Fingers crossed that the oryx wouldn't have our way with us we began the journey to South Africa. Can curses cross borders? I guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out....

The Long Road to Fish River Canyon remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Besides being a sweet oasis of apple strudel (and shopping) for Mary, Swakopmund was also our "Adrenaline Stop, Part Deux" (see our Victoria Falls blog entry for Part One). On the docket were sandboarding and quad biking on the nearby sand dunes, and our first ever sky dive. We managed to get through them all unscathed, although we can't say the same for one of our traveling companions, Lee, who achieved legend status in our eyes by the time all was said and done.

We were mildly concerned about our first activity, sandboarding, when we found out that the only equipment involved was a thin plank of wood about 2 feet by 4 feet. But we were still on such a high from our good night's sleep and warm shower that we grabbed our boards with a smile and made the arduous climb up to the top of the dunes. It was a little windy, but the view was gorgeous: rolling dunes as far as the eye could see in three directions, and then the Atlantic ocean off to the west. Our activity leader briefed us at the top, essentially by saying "You can reach speeds up to 80 km/h, but wiping out doesn't really hurt too bad... who wants to go first?" And away we went. We made about 8 runs down the dunes, unfortunately having to climb back up the dunes each time. We both managed to eclipse 70 km/h on our final runs, but neither one of us could beat the top speed of our 63-year old friend Lee, who checked in at 75 km/h, got thrown off her board twice in the process, and still kept climbing up and sailing down. By the end of the day she was bruised an battered, but she did it all with a smile on her sand-covered face.

Quad biking, our second activity, was a fantastic experience as well. It was a 2-hour sunset ride through the gorgeous dunes that are only a few miles from the city itself. Again, the views of the dunes as we rode up, over and around them were amazing. The colors and shadows created by the setting sun were truly spectacular, and even though we knew that our German utopia of a town was just a few minutes away, it really felt as if we were riding off into the middle of the desert. We were going along great for about an hour and a half, enjoying the scenery and taking pictures, when a sudden sharp turn around a dune threw a twist into things. This sharp turn was made even trickier by the fact that we were riding into the setting sun, and our friend Lee rolled head over heels down the dune! We all rushed down to make sure she was OK, which she was despite the bike rolling onto her head (thank you helmet). And after a few minutes to collect herself she was off again at the head of the pack.

And then that left skydiving. Ah. Ever since the trip started we had been talking a big game, to ourselves and to skydiving addict Skanky, that we were going to do our first ever sky dive when we got to Swakopmund. By the time the day came, the weather was perfect so there was no turning back. We hopped in the car and headed out to the desert where our plane would be taking off from. Wearing sweet pink and yellow flying suits and clear goggles, it certainly didn't feel like we were going to be jumping out of an airplane... it felt more like we were going to be filming an 80's music video. But the plane's arrival and getting strapped into our parachuting gear quickly got us into skydiving mindset, and we took a deep breath and got into the plane with our tandem divers and camera men. So in total there were six of us crammed into a tiny tiny cabin. There were arms, legs and cameras everywhere, and at one point I tried to adjust my foot to aid circulation and actually ended up moving Mary's foot by mistake.

So there we were, on our way to 10,000 feet over the Namib Desert. Mary was all smiles and hamming it up with the crew, while I was basically saying prayer after prayer to my Dad and trying my best to look calm on video and enjoy the scenic flight leading up to the jump. It really was a beautiful flight: blue skies with puffy white clouds, golden sand dunes and miles of ocean coastline surrounded us. After about twenty minutes, we starting prepping to jump. Mary was set to go first. We unraveled our limbs, gave each other a quick kiss, and she and her tandem diver and camera man scooted toward the open door. Before I knew it, she was gone, hurtling towards the desert below. Being the only other jumper on board, there was no point in procrastinating from there. "You ready?", I was asked. "Let's go!", I said, with less authority than I probably imagine. But I really was eager to jump at this point, if for no other reason than to regain the feeling in my lower legs.

So we made our way to the door, wind howling through, and I dangled my legs over the edge. My brain balked for a millisecond as it tried to process the fact that I was exiting an aircraft without a tarmac directly below, but I knew it was time to jump. I gave the thumbs up, and the next thing I knew I was tumbling through space, watching the plane disappear above me. From that point on, it all happened incredibly fast. The 30-second freefall was unlike any other feeling in the world, an incredible rush that seemed to last for about three seconds. Then the chute opened, and I had the next five minutes or so to process the previous 30 seconds, wave to Mary who was also in the air, and enjoy the view from up above the dunes. Wow.

Lee and Alex then went up right after the two of us. Alex is a veteran skydiver and had no issues tossing himself out of the plane. Lee, always up for something new, did her first ever sky dive as well. So in the span of a day and a half she 1) wiped out on a sandboard going 75 km/h (fastest of our group), 2) rolled down the side of a sand dune in a quad bike, and 3) did her first sky dive. Oh, and I should also mention that when she first arrived in Africa, the car she was traveling in from the airport struck a kudu. Unbelievable. Lee, you are a true adventurer.

Well that about sums up Swakopmund, aka the German oasis in the middle of Namibia. From here we move on down to Sesriem and the red dunes of Sossuvlei and Dune 45...

Apple strudel in the desert remains copyright of the author cmgildea, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Moving on, Namibia has approximately 2.5 million inhabitants. Most of these inhabitants live near the German influenced city of Windhoek. For a while Shiloh Jolie-Pitt was the most famous of these inhabitants (unless you count our friend and blog reader Rachael). I've mentioned the Himbas in a past blog but the other tribe worth a mention is the Herero. Really the Himba are the traditional version of this tribe, the original Hereros if you will. When the Herero are mentioned its usually in reference to the folks who have "modernized" and adapted to a more western way of life. While most of the Herero have taken on the western dress, etc, what really boggles the mind is seeing the woman who still wear traditional dress. They've adopted the clothing of the Germans who colonized the place a hundred years ago. This means they wear this extremely large petticoat with layers upon layers of brightly colored dress. A practical outfit for the desert. The dress has puffy sleeves and is topped with a cool little hat thing that's very hard to describe in a blog. May I direct you to google yet again for visualization. I LOVE this traditional garb but can't help but think it looks like something out of a Grimm's fairy tale. Oh you Germans - bringing the sausage roll and the petticoat to Africa. What will you think of next?

One thing that many of you may know about Namibia is that it's a land of incredibly diverse landscapes. We have covered a LOT of ground here in Africa and I can say with certainty that Namibia is the only country we've driven through that can change it's face in a matter of minutes. Rock canyons that lend themselves perfectly to a Western movie one minute (complete with scary vultures) and rolling hills dusted with a baby fine blond grass the next. Volatile coast lines transform into sandy dunes and then level out to salt flats within a miles drive. Its absolutely incredible. There is no way you can get a sense of the landscape with a picture as no camera could possibly capture the uniqueness of this country. We say this now and we still have the southern region, perhaps the most famous of the country's geographies, to tackle. I can't wait.

Okay, so that was my Namibia 101 just to give you a bit of context for our bush camping story. If you can't appreciate the changing landscape then you can't appreciate how difficult it was to navigate a 4X4 through this diverse landscape with little but a few tire tracks left by past travelers to guide the way. Wow. Bush camping is NOT for the faint of heart. One might say it really "bonds people together" ...if they don't kill each other in the process. The rewards, however, FAR outweigh the difficulties it takes to go from point A to point B.

The highlights:
- UNBELIEVABLE scenery and being the only humans around for miles to appreciate it
- Tracking the elusive desert elephant only to lose it's tracks somewhere in the bush
- Coming across a small hut and being greeted by a woman that looked like a Herero version of a German cook from the 1800s (sidenote: I'm an expert on German cook fashion in the 1800s)
- Driving along non-existent roads and watching giraffe, oryx and ostrich stare at the car as we road by
- Finding the world's best bush campsites and sitting around the fire under a dome of crystal clear stars (seriously we've never seen stars like we have here in Namibia)
- James' delicious camping dinners of kudu, eland and oryx. It's a little weird to take pictures of these animals in the day and eat them at night but hey, such is life in the bush.
- Realizing we were a little lost but that getting lost was kind of the point in the first place

And the lowlights:
- Car number one getting so far stuck in a sandy riverbed that if a donkey and trap carrying 6 local guys hadn't come by we would still be sitting there.
- Car number one over heating in another riverbed while car number two radioed to tell us that she'd "gotten stuck in quick sand and was sinking fast."
- Setting up our tents in the pitch black only to realize in the morning that we'd set up camp near the only hut in a 50 mile radius. Doesn't sound so bad except we realized this while we were going to the bathroom and suddenly noticed a group of onlookers.
- Having to walk across the sand in the middle of the HOT HOT day because the cars would sink in the sand if we actually road in them
- Getting to the absolute middle of nowhere only to find an abandoned research tent with a mysterious rock display marked with an oryx horn. Some say the rock display was a chair for the researcher. "Some" may say this but I ask "where is the researcher?" Hmmm. Looks a little grave-y to me. Anyway, James made the poor decision to move the horn. I believe this cursed us the entire ride back to civilization. Note that the "Curse of the Horn" is only a theory but if you saw this little rock display you'd know where I was coming from.

Of course you could argue that the best part of bush camping was coming out of the bush and landing at Fort Sesfontein lodge for a shower and a Coke. It might have felt that way at the time but this little adventure was definitely a highlight of our African adventure. Our trip through Namibia is not even halfway through and I can tell you without hesitation we will be back. It's truly, truly a magical place.

Stay tuned for more Namibia adventure....

• This is a total guess regarding the size of Namibia. It's big. Let's just leave it at that.

A Mar in a Lodge is worth Two in the Bush. remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I know that's a random way to start off the blog but it was hilarious and I can't find another relevant part of this entry to mention it. Fortunately it was a baby giraffe and Colin moved out of the way before too much damage could be done. Why were we near a giraffe you ask? Well, we were camping on a farm just outside of Etosha before heading out to bush camp. The farmers had rescued the giraffe when it became stuck in a fence a few months ago and it was now living with them on the farm. I officially want a baby...giraffe (even if it did step on my foot).

You may also be asking yourself what these farmers were growing on the farm. Berries? Corn? Pumpkins perhaps? Nope. Cheetahs. Several years ago they rescued 3 baby cheetahs (I'm seeing a trend) from certain death and have raised them in their home as family pets. We were able to play with these somewhat scary house cats and watch as they noshed on some fresh donkey carcass. Fun! They have about 18-20 wild cheetahs living on the farm as well and we piled on the flatbed of a pickup truck to pay them a visit. This would have been a pleasant stroll through the farm had the truck not been strapped with two barrels of the aforementioned donkey meat. Ever really feel like prey? We have.

Now I've been called a lot of things in my day but "Cat Lover" has never really been one of them. I suppose "sneaky" and "always plotting" would be ways I would've described cats in the past. However, when the cheetahs smelled the donkey and appeared from out of nowhere to stalk the car, well, color me a cheetah lover. They are absolutely gorgeous. We had seen a cheetah before in the wild - which is awesome - but to see 20 cheetahs surround you while the sun sets is in a league of its own. (Note that when I say we were standing in a flatbed I mean that we could've easily bent down to pet one and watch as our hands went the way of the donkey meat. Like they say at Great America, keep your hands and feet in the flatbed at all times).

The owner of the farm proceeded to feed the cheetahs by chucking raw meat at them as we watched them battled for the prime cuts. To see cheetah rip a donkey leg in two is crazy (and yes Dad, it was better than watching it on HD). After this impressive predatory display we were shown back to our campsite which bordered the cheetah fencing. Not as scary as the times we were surrounded by wild hippo but enough to give you a momentary pause. Luckily our site was right next to the lair of a female cheetah and her three baby cubs. The close proximity to our campsite meant that we could sit, read our books or eat breakfast and listen for the tell tale coo of the mother cheetah. This was our cue to look up from the camp chairs and viola! there they'd be just staring at us. I loved it...but made sure I stayed a good distance after the cheetah snarled at me when I got a bit too close for comfort. Maybe I'm not ready to embrace the cat as a species after all. Anyway, I officially want a baby cheetah to be the sibling to my baby giraffe. It's too bad our apartment barely fits Colin and I or I would definatly be taking one home. A guard cat. I like it.

Editors note on the Farm: It's important to mention that the farm is in no way a zoo. It's HUGE and once they raise enough money they will add better fencing and introduce additional wild game to turn it into a game park. They have a little bar (sans electricitly) where you can drink for cheetah conservation. Cheers to that we say!

After leaving our furry friends behind we FINALLY started our 4 day bush trek into the wilds of northern Namibia. I know I've been hyping this whole "bush trek" thing for the past couple of blogs. You may even be thinking "didn't they do that a long time ago?" Well, it takes a little more planning than we thought to just make your way into uncharted territory. For those who need a bit of clarification, a bush camp is different from regular camping in that you don't stay at a designated campsite. You basically find a flat piece of land in the middle of nowhere and pitch a tent. The idea is to really get away from it all, be one with nature, sleep under the stars, etc., etc.

When Col and I were reading about Namibia we were really interested in visiting the Kaokoland region in the northwest part of the country. It's home to the Himbas, one of the last tribes in Africa to retain their tribal way of life (and not just to fetch a dollar or two for a photo). I suggest looking up Himbas on google so you can see why were were fascinated by their culture. Unfortunately (or fortunately, which ever way you look at it) getting up to that part of the world is difficult. To quote from the guidebook we had regarding this area, "it's beautiful and ever changing scenery make this a magnificent place to visit. However, due to the unpredictable nature of the roads and few inhibitants we have decided not to include any information on how to travel to this part of the country." Hmmm. Foreshadowing?

We packed the car with food, fuel, water and our sense of humor and set out for a real adventure...

To Be Continued.

(To learn more about our trek into the bush you'll have to wait for the next blog entry. The suspense! I used to love when sitcoms did the To Be Continued. And to learn more about Namibia and the Himbas visit your local library. More adventure calls....)

Good fences make good neighbors remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Alright - so much to catch up on. Where to begin? Let's start where we left off....

I promised to tell you how Skanky and Grubby, like a modern day Batman and Robin, saved us from border doom in Zambia. As it turns out we were stopped by a shady policeman for some bs reason or another and they threatend to hold us at the border until we paid some ridiculous amount to pass. Ironically we had just passed one of the many "Stop Corruption in Zambia" billboards about a mile before hitting this "police stop." Anyway, our new guide Annie was getting quite the run around before those of us driving with Skank realized what was happening. After cursing in Afrikans, Skank makes a mad dash to the overly crowded border and demands to talk to the police chief. They tell him that the chief is at the road stop. Nice. So we fly back to Annie who is all fired up and Skanky (barefoot but in a posative turn of events not shirtless) gets out of the car ready for what we have come to recognize as a classic Skanky police block encounter. Usually this involves a bit of yelling, some storming around, maybe a few hand gestures and ends with him giving the officer a cigarette, they share a laugh and we drive off. This time it required a little more palm greasing than a cheap cigarette. In comes Grubby - a regular Livingstone man about town (with decidedly hobbit looking feet). He quickly gives us the number of the real police chief which Skanky calls immediately to explain the situation. Here is the part of the conversation that we heard, "And YOU have these men who do not know the law stopping us as we are LEAVING the country for no reason. Now explain." After a pause he hands the phone over to the busted bad cop and it takes about 30 seconds before we are back on the road. I guess the anti-corruption campaign is making some headway at the senior levels. About 20 minutes later we were crossing over into Botswana by ferry. Note that "by ferry" means we all pile on to a large pontoon and go about half a mile. It sounds much more romantic (and less diesel-y) then it really is.

The next day we headed out into the Okavango Delta by traditional wooden canoe- a very reed-y, marshy, strange part of the country. We bush camped there for a night and headed back the next day. I'd write more about the experience but it mostly involved Colin and I running down to the stream to get water and running back every time we heard a hippo snort. I will never forget bottled water again. Shout out to Erin and Brendan for supplying us with the water bottles with filters. We really put them to the test and yes, they do filter out hippo dung and dragon flies. Mmmm.

We followed the trip up with a scenic flight over the Delta the next day. Seriously, if you ever come this way you must do the scenic flight. It's THE BEST way to appreciate the Delta. Both Colin and I (jaded already) were a little underwelmed with Botswana until we took the flight. Seeing this crazy landscape which looks like a golf course/swamp/free range zoo from above was magical. Ah, Botswana. Never judge a book...

Our Botswana adventure ended with what may have been our riskiest move yet: We let Skanky cut Colin's hair. In the dark. After he'd had at least 4 brandy and Cokes. Not our most rational decision of the trip. It really didn't look bad at first. Of course we were looking at it with a $5 flashlight...looked a bit more, oh I don't know, bowl-y in the morning. Col has since cleaned it up a bit but I wouldn't be surprised if the shears come out again before the trip is over. It was a nice parting gift from Skanky. He left the next morning and we would be lying if we didn't say that we were sad to see him go. The good news for us and readers alike is that he'll likely make an appearance again in the blog. We will be visiting his parent's farm in South Africa and we may meet up with him in Cape Town. And who knows...he's talked of visiting us in Chicago when he's next in the States. Fun for all. Skank - if you are out there - we miss your Mrs. Balls.

Like I mentioned I'm in a bakery in Namibia which means we just finished several days in the northern part of the country. We had some noteworthy camping experiences and I expect, as we prep for our 3 days in the remote bush, that I'll have more to report when I return. Given my limited computer time here I can't expound on the details but I will leave you with this bit of advice: Mongeese love socks and jackals love baked goods. Both were lost to these scoundrals while we prepared out dinner. On a posative note the warthogs in our camp just wanted to hang out. And who's not down with hanging out with warthog?

Alright - must go get water and supplies before heading out into the bush. Quick shout out to our April birthdays: Finn Navs, Dupee (aka: Pat), Dan, Liz and of course Mr. Africa Bush Colin Gildea. Much love to all! Stay tuned...

Skanky Leaves. Colin and Mary Mourn. remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Bit of a Blog Intermission remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Right out of the gate on the first day we decided to take early morning microlight flights right over the Falls, which turned out to be a fantastic decision. The weather for our flight was crisp, clear, and most importantly windless - perfect for microlight flying. So up we went simultaneously in separate planes in these tiny (hence micro), seemingly weightless (hence light) aircraft. Having never been in a microlight before, my first sensation was how exposed you are to the elements in the air. No ceiling, no windows, just two wings, an engine and the wind in your face (oh, and don't forget the pilot).

Right after we were airborne, we could see a long plume of mist (aka "smoke") emerging from the Zambezi River ahead, and the smoke gradually grew bigger and bigger as we approached the Falls. The pilot then took a slight left maybe a couple hundred yards away so that we could circle around and and see the Falls from the front. From just a few hundred feet above, the entire length of the Falls was laid out in front of us... quite an impressive sight. Plunging into the gorge below and stretching horizontally for almost a mile, with the smoky mist hanging in the air above, this was an amazing way to see the Falls for the first time! Before landing we did a few circles around the national park to see our favorite safari animals from the sky. Nothing beats a view of an elephant charging through the forest from above.

After the flight we made our way to the entrance of the Falls on foot to see how things looked from the ground. Our first impression here was the sound, which we were unable to hear from the microlights. It truly lives up to what the locals call Mosi-O-Tunya: "The Smoke That Thunders." Seriously, you can feel it's presence before you can see it... a powerful rumble that just sounds imposing. Seeing the Falls was spectacular as well, particularly because you can get so much closer to them than we would have thought. We were drenched in no time just from the mist, and we even managed to see a few rainbows as well.

After a day of relaxing and trying to save money (Zambia is expensive), we went for an "adrenaline day" at the Gorge with our newly arrived travel mates, Alex and Jo. Another picture perfect day, spent at the cliffs along the picturesque Bakota Gorge, basically reenacting detours from the Amazing Race. In fact, one of the activities, the Gorge Swing, was actually featured on the Race in 2000.

We started things off by abseiling down into the gorge. We then upped the ante a bit with two goes on the Flying Fox. This involves putting on a harness which is strapped to a cable that stretches from one end of the gorge to the other, then sprinting off the edge of the cliff. The rope attached to the cable is pretty short, maybe a few feet long, so you end up flying across the gorge Superman-style along the cable. This was extremely fun and had the not-to-be-underestimated benefit of us not having to climb back up the gorge afterwards (a steep, 30 minute climb in 85 degree heat).

This all led up to the adrenaline climax - the famous Gorge Swing. Like the Flying Fox, the Gorge Swing involves a cable stretching from one end of the gorge to the other, with you attached by another cable. The cable attaching you, however, is 160 feet long. It's essentially a bungee jump down into the gorge, right next to the cliff. The major difference is that instead of bouncing back in the air like you would after a bungee jump, you swing out into the middle of the gorge. Once you're all strapped in, attached and ready to go, you step to the edge of the cliff and dangle your toes over. After an irresistible look down and a deep breath, you count down... 3, 2, 1... and take the step of faith into a 3.5 second free fall. Falling about 100 times faster than you had imagined (they say up to 180 km/h... get out your mile-to-km charts) you are yanked (literally... we got some minor whiplash) back into reality when your cable catches and then there you are, swinging in the middle of the gorge. A great experience, but one which will definitely require a visit to the chiropractor when we get back...

Today, our final day, was somewhat disappointing in that we were unable to cross the border into Zimbabwe due to the uncertain political situation there at the moment. So no lion walk, so seeing the Falls from the other side, and no dinner feast of warthog, zebra, etc. I guess it's a small price to pay considering the conditions many of the Zimbabweans are facing today. Hopefully their election results will be resolved soon and (fingers crossed) they can move forward to a better situation. As an alternative we were able to schedule a walking safari in which we saw rhino, elephant, and giraffe on foot at close range. A great day.

We've enjoyed our stay in Livingstone immensely. Not only did we get to stretch our adventure sports muscles but we took a much needed break from camping. Ah, fresh towels, a bed and air conditioning. Life is good. We'll miss you, Livingstone!

On to Botswana next... The free internet ends here but we hope to post again soon!

Whiplash at a Natural Wonder of the World remains copyright of the author cmgildea, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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To keep thoughts of our break-up with Skank at bay, I've been thinking a lot lately about how we've changed while on the road. I'm not talking about deep, spiritual change. More your garden variety change. For example...

Last night at the campsite there was a television with cable channels. Aside from a random viewing of "Paperazzi" at a campsite in Eldoret and an occassional cricket match, this has been the only non-local television we've seen in close to 2 months. The withdrawal symptoms for me have been noticeable. We settled in to watch a glorious hour of E! Entertainment TV at the campsite. Heaven! About 15 minutes into the show Col and I came to same conclusion: we didn't want to watch it. Is this POSSIBLE? We didn't want to watch TV???

Now I've heard that it takes 30 days to break a habit. This has proven true with my nail biting. I'm now clean. Easy to do while in Africa. But can you detox from pop culture?? I mean, any day of the week before the trip I would have eagerly sat down in front of the tube to watch Renee Zellweger's E True Hollywood Story. Last night I couldn't even make it to her marriage to Kenny Chesney. And I can't believe I don't even want to know what J-Lo named her twins. What kind of monster have I become? Or is this a better me? Hmmm. We didn't say much about it but I know we felt the same way - it just reminded us of things we don't want to be reminded of. I'm pretty sure we'll go back to our tv loving ways when we get home (we are currently maxing out on the TIVO storage) but for now Col and I agree that we'll stay away from the boob tube. One exception: African soaps. They are made with the equivalent of a camcorder and we find them endlessly entertaining)

Some of those things we don't want to be reminded of are the social must-dos we've managed to put aside while in Africa. Like showering everyday or putting on make-up. We've really redefined what clean means. This could be directly related to travelling with Skanky for 6 weeks. Note that we are having dinner with one of his friends while we are down here. The guy's name? Grubby. You can't make this stuff up, people.

Another one of those changes that I've noticed is our reaction to things that we may have found disgusting or absurd before. For instance, Colin said to me the other day, "I had seven frogs in my shower. How many did you have?" This seemed like a very normal question to me at the time. Likewise, when I said to him, "hmmm, I don't know how I got this hippo dung all over myself" he didn't even blink an eye. As a matter of fact, the keyboard that I'm typing this on has a nest of some very large insects I can not identify under it. At one point I may have reacted by running away. Instead I just think "yay! free internet" and let them swarm about.

One thing that still freaks me out is the notion of certain types of bug bites. I think I mentioned the infamous mango worm a few posts back. The insect that lays eggs in clothing, bedding, etc. in humid areas and then the eggs hatch in your face? Yeah, well, I had a mango worm scare the other day. Nothing to worry about, false alarm, but the idea of having one of these is terrifying on two levels: 1) I would have a worm growing in my face and 2) Skanky would be the one taking it out. With his pocket knife. As it turns out the mysterious week old bite that had taken over half of my face has since receded. A relief for me and for those who will be subject to photos of me on this trip. The worst part about it was the swelling and the constant poking of Skanky's finger in my face going "oy! it's really red!" or "yaw, we'll have to keep an eye on it. Does this hurt?" Just for the record, I would have let him take out the worm. There could be nothing worse then knowing it was stuck in my cheek.

Alright, hope that didn't gross anyone out. I promise that our next post will be jam-packed with adventure and absent of bugs. We are gearing up to take advantage of the many activities here in Vic Falls. We may even cross the boarder into Zimbabwe (pending political situation) to go on a lion walk and delight in the Fogo de Chao of game meat. Warthog is supposedly "to die for" but I may just stick to a variety of impala.

Until then...stay away from the mango flies or I'll have to fly Skanky out to take care of them for you!

The Early Skanky Catches the Worm remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We celebrated our official halfway day in the small yet stunning country of Malawi. Some of you may be familiar with Malawi's famous citizen: Madonna's new kid. Others of you may have visited yourself to swim in the fresh waters of Lake Malawi- home to an astounding 900 varieties of fresh water fish. I saw an ad for a dive school in Malawi that said "diving in Lake Malawi is like diving in a giant aquarium" and I have to believe it's true. We manged to see a couple while snorkeling.

I'd love to astound you with tales of adventure but Col and I literally did nothing while in Malawi except sit on the porch of our beach chalet, read, eat and occassionally take a dip in the water. Some of you may recall that we were weary of exposing ourselves to the water in the lake due to the parasite located under it's shimmery surface. Well, to be honest, it's one thing to vow staying at bay when you are in your cold Chicago apartment but it's a completely different story when you are standing on it's sandy shores in your bathing suit. Besides, we learned that the showers we were taking pre-visit to the lake were just as likely to contain the parasite as a swim in the lake so we were already tainted by the time we reached the beach. Oh well. Skank says we just need to go to the pharmacy here and grab an anti-parasite pill and we should be good. It's somewhat reasuring that he's never contracted the illness and he's a prime candidate having swam in the water numerous times. Then again, the guy walks around the less-than-desirable streets of Dar Es Salaam during a rain storm without shoes on with no consequences. Hmmm.

Anyway, due to our total lack of interaction with culture, community or wildlife (aside from a trip up the mountain to the fabled Livingstonia), I'll share with you a few minor observations on Malawi:

1. They are really concerned with drinking and driving. In a country almost absent of any advertising (except for the always present Coke or Celltell painted huts) we noticed numerous signs that said "don't drink and drive." The other signs we saw said "Reading road signs saves lives." We assume they meant the road signs about drinking and driving. As it turns out, we learned from the owner of the campsite that this is a relatively new law and they are really cracking down on it. HOWEVER, when the law was first introduced it was a bit lost in translation. She told us that a man who worked at the camp had been pulled over when the police saw that he was drinking a Kouche Kouche - a local beer that means "sun up to sun down" - while driving. The policeman waved him over and told him about the new law. He then told the man to get out of his car and finish drinking the beer by the side of the road. Once he finished doing that he was free to carry on driving. She said they've since clarified the issue. Likewise, she told us to find a Malawi "rules of the road" book. Supposedly there is a no doing drugs and driving policy listed. Makes sense. However, she said the book states "doing drugs while driving is detremental because you end up speeding trying to get to the next place to do more drugs." So I guess it's okay to take drugs while driving as long as you aren't rushing anywhere to buy more.

2. The second observation about Malawi is that they've really mastered the art of woodcarving. Malawi is known for it's handcarved wood items - in particular their elaborately carved wood chairs. I am known for wanting the thing a country is known for so Col and I hit the wood market to bargain our way into some wooden delights. After about an hour in the heat I had decided that one of these wood chairs would be both easy to transport home and a real conversation piece to have in our imaginary condo. The promise of "looking good in the condo we'll have someday" has led to many travel purchases in the past: tapestries in India, bowls in Croatia, waterford in Ireland, etc. This time Colin wasn't going for it. Not being the interior design visionary I had put my faith in, Col said he could picture where it would go in the storage space but not in the ficticious condo. Oh well. We walked away with a small table and rhino bookends (which will look great on the bookshelf we don't have in the mythical condo).

Note that I did the bargaining in the wooden goods deal. That's one of my jobs on the trip. Col deals with the money, electronics and rational thought. I deal with the laundry, market bargaining and spirit of adventure. It's working out quite well.

So where are we now? Well, we pulled into South Louongwa Park yesterday. It's located in Zambia and is known for it's large hippo population. We can vouch for this large population by the sheer lack of sleep we received last night. We had just finished our first night game drive (cooler in theory than in practice) and slipped into our hot tent. It wasn't 10 minutes later that the hippos came on shore to feed. Now a hippo can feed for a long time and in doing so makes snorting/laughing-like noises. I may have mentioned this before. When you get a lot of hippos doing this it kind of sounds like late night after the bar closes. As frustrating as this is when you are trying to sleep I still like the idea that we are surrounded by hippos in our tent. Just one of those things I'll miss when we go home. Maybe I can find a "hippo sounds" white noise maker for the imaginary condo.

We will be baking in the hot sun here for another few days before we make our way to Victoria Falls. Until then I'll leave you with a fun fact:

A group of zebras is called a Dazzling of Zebras. Giraffes a Tower of Giraffes. A Raft of Hippos and a Parade of Elephants.

Good to note that we are learning on the trip. Love to all!

The Halftime Show remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We went on an 8-hour game drive yesterday through Ruaha and it was amazing. We entered the gates at about 6:30 AM, just as the sun was rising. The park is slightly elevated, so when the sun did rise, it revealed a thick layer of mist surrounding everything, a very spooky effect when combined with the many baobab trees in the park (some of which are absolutely enormous and can live up to 3000 years). As the sun gradually burned off the mist, we saw our surroundings: baobab trees everywhere, lush vegetation (a pro to being here during rainy season), and rolling hills and mountains topped with enormous granite boulders. And it was around this time that the wildlife started to appear as well. Giraffes were all over the place, seemingly peeking their heads from around every acacia tree. And they were accompanied by hundreds of zebras, impalas, eland, and the odd kudu.

We were just about to head to lunch very satisfied with our drive so far - despite having seen no animals we hadn't seen before - when we came across the mother lode of lion prides. Somehow, our guide spotted them about a hundred feet from the road under an acacia tree. We got the binoculars out, but they wouldn't be necessary... the driver promptly swerved off the road and drove right over to them. Startled, they spread out to a few different trees, and we drove right smack in the middle of them. Now, I should mention at this point that we were in a completely open safari vehicle with no doors, so this was slightly unnerving. However, the lions didn't seem bothered in the least and just kind of watched us watching them. It was unreal. Hanging out in the middle of a pride of nineteen lions, probably no more than 10 feet away... I couldn't believe it, and still almost don't. Needless to say, we and the other couple we were with had plenty to talk about over lunch.

Then after lunch, we had an even rarer experience: a cheetah sighting. How the guide spotted it's ear sticking out of 6-foot high grasses, we have no idea. But sure enough, there he was, eyeing a small group of impala. I suppose we would have been satisfied with seeing just the ear, as cheetah are apparently extremely tough to find especially during lush rainy season, but again our guides apparently went to the Doc Brown school of safari driving ("Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads...").

So before we could even think about snapping a photo, we were off the road and into the bush. Not heading in the general direction of the cheetah, rather heading STRAIGHT towards it. So the cheetah pops it's head up and then makes a break for it, right towards the impala, who start barking and scattering. Our driver decides to follow the action, and while we we're trying to keep an eye on the cheetah we have a slight incident. Our first clue that something was wrong was the "Ah!!" cry that we heard from the driver or guide (we're not sure which). This was then followed by the unmistakable feeling of the front left of the car heading straight downwards into a ditch with a thud. We were stuck, and what a moment to be stuck in. As we spun our wheels loudly and in vain, the cheetah was standing a mere 30 feet away from us, still eyeing the remaining impala (why there were remaining impala at this point, I have no idea), and a lone giraffe was peeking over a tree to keep track of the goings-on. You could almost here him saying to himself: "This should be good."

When it became apparent that 4-wheel drive was not going to save us, the guide and driver got out and started trying to dig us out, yelling at each other in Swahili. And after a few minutes of this, the cheetah turned around and just looked at us with this look on his face that said "Are you kidding me? I'm trying to get a meal in here and you're not helping!" We eventually got the car out of the ditch and headed back to the road, so we're not sure if the cheetah managed to snag himself an impala or not, but it was one surreal experience. We can't wait to post the picture of what we saw. It almost looks made up.

So in closing, Ruaha was amazing. We both agree that it was exactly what we thought the Serengeti would be like (don't get us wrong the Serengeti was great, just different than we imagined). Miles and miles of open wilderness, barely visible roads (unlike the Serengeti which had paved roads everywhere), lakes and winding rivers, and we were clearly on the animals' turf. In the Serengeti, there were so many people that it almost felt as if humans belonged there as much as the animals, but not in Ruaha. We only saw one other car the entire time we were in the park, so during our lion and cheetah encounters, we were the only humans around for miles. Now THAT's how we pictured a true African wildlife safari.

Ruaha National Park remains copyright of the author cmgildea, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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This last point occurred to me the other night while we were camping in Selous game reserve in Tanzania. Selous is extremely large and known to be one of the real "wild" game parks given its size and absence of visitors. We were the only guests at this campsite and it was located on a hippo/croc infested river (seems to be the theme of our campsites). Anyway, Col and I retired to bed around 8pm...our typical African bed time. As the blank of night covered us completely and the chorus of evening sounds began I started to think about what it would be like to have to sleep out in the bush. Giant bugs the size of small birds were hitting the tent. Monkeys were laughing above us. Hippos began their snorting as they made their way from the river. Something much larger than an elephant shrew was chomping its way past the back of our tent. The idea of being out there all alone was one that made me snuggle deeper into my reliable sleep sack. (Normally I would have cuddled closer to Colin but unfortunately we are both suffering from a bit of the old Tanzanian tummy. Personal space is a must at a time like this.)

I also couldn't help but think of a book both Colin and I recently finished: A Long Way Gone. It's the firsthand account of a child soldier during Sierra Leone's civil war. My friend Wendy had taken me to an author's book signing this past September but I had yet to read the story until I came here. The story is told by a young man who experienced the death of his entire family at the hands of teenage rebels and then went on to become one of these child soldiers himself. The book is an incredible read - even more so when you are in Africa and can picture the village by looking out the car window. Anyway, one part of the book that is glossed over a bit is the fact that this kid, at age 12, had to spend months alone in the bush. He just kind of mentions it and moves on. Had I been reading this at home I might have done the same but when confronted with the realities of the bush at night it made me really reflect on how truly scary that would be. I mean, I'm thinking this while safely tucked into a tent, family doing fine at home and not a single rebel to be found. Reminded me again how lucky we all are to be born into our lives as we know them and not forced to sleep in a tree night after night.

One other thing I've learned on this trip so far is that a single shared word may be the key to communication. In this instance the word is "okay". A word we take for granted and use in abundance without even realizing its power. In our African adventure it is a word that can make or break the experience. For instance, if you are out on a game drive with a non-English speaking driver, "okay" will dictate exactly how long you will spend watching an animal. This driver has no idea what your personal interests are and therefore will weight the importance of seeing a lion slaughtering a cape buffalo the same as say a guinea fowl pecking at some dirt. He will stop. You will look. When you are done you say "ok" and he will move on. We haven't tried it yet but I wonder...if you never said "ok" would you sit there all night? Certainly seems that way. The same is true for ordering food. You look at the menu (fish with rice, chicken with rice, beef with rice). You point and say "beef with rice". The waitress will say okay. You'll say okay. She might say "potato?" and you might make a big mistake and say "no, that's okay." An hour later she will walk back with a big pile of potatoes - no beef or rice to be found. You just can't fool around with okay.

So far the "I learned" list is a long one. We can't believe its only been a little over a month since we left home. I assume that it will only get longer as we go along. Speaking of...we are currently on a mountain village heading to Ruaha, Tanzania. After a quick stay at what Skank calls a "flash camp" we will be making our way to internet-less Malawi. Don't give up on us...check back when you can because stranger things have happened than finding a random internet shack in the middle of nowhere.

Oh, and a final I learned...I learned that Mrs. Ozar was right when she said the one thing she'll never get used to is how off the cuff nose picking is in Africa. The waitress, the policeman at a road block, the customs official...and the adorable south African Skank who is driving us around this part of the world. Please pass the Purell, it's a long drive.

Love to all....

Ok? Ok. Ok? remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Anyway - Zanzibar (or ZAN-ZI-BAAH if you are Skanky) has been absolutely wonderful. The rainy season held off long enough for us to have a sunny break from our safari. Colin is officially "end-of-baseball-season" tan and I have a few more freckles to my name.

I also have a new favorite hobby: SCUBA diving. Col and I decided to take the beginner class today and do our first real dive. It wasn't Col's cup of tea so he decided to snorkel while I went diving along the reefs with our instructor Dan. I had a slight notion that it would be cool but nothing prepared me for that experience. I'm officially hooked. We saw coral and fish in every shape and color. We swam with schools of hundreds of tropical fish. We stared a morey eel in the face and swam side by side with a huge sea turtle. This being my first experience, Dan decided to hold my hand so I wouldn't go ruining the wildlife by smashing into the reefs. Yes, it was somewhat akward but like Colin said "I'd rather have you hold his dude's hand for an hour than die." I love my supportive husband.

After coming down from the high of the dive we cleaned up and had another lovely seafood dinner on the beach. We'll be sad to leave Zanzibar but know in our hearts that we are mainland folks and it's time to return. After a brief stint in Dar to recoup we'll be heading to Selous game reserve and then off to Malawi. Stay tuned!

Oh, and for those pop culture buffs, can you name the sitcom that taught us all what SCUBA stands for?? Hint: Think siblings jumping around the room while repeating the headline of this blog entry.

Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus! remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It's Easter so naturally Colin and I find ourselves on Zanzibar - the island known for it's spice, sand and sultans. Fortunately the sultans have gone out with the tides and with them their perchant for doing a bit of the ole slave trade. Yes, Zanzibar is also known as the former trading post for slaves headed from Africa to the Middle East before our guy Stanley Livingstone decided it just wasn't cool and led the charge in snuffing it out. A dark time indeed for this sun drenched island. But let's not dwell on that, shall we? There are spices to try and seas to be swum and Christ to be risen. Yes, this has been one fabulous beach break for two people who were never meant to dwell on a beach (okay, one person - Col actually tans).

We arrived in Dar Es Salaam, a large city on the coast on Tanzania, after a long drive from Arusha. As Skanky both pointed out and continually demonstrated, you just need to step out of the AC for 2 seconds in Dar and you are drenched in sweat. And trust me, a sweaty Skanky is not a happy Skanky (or happy Mar and Col) so we stayed in the AC as much as possible.

We made our way to Zanzibar by ferry the next day - a lovely way to see the city of Stonetown upon your arrival. Stonetown is different from many of the African cities we have visited due to it's rich history (see sultans and slave trade comment above). Like Dar, Stonetown is primarily Muslim and the architecture resembles that found in northern Africa and the Middle East. The narrow alleyways reminded us of India (minus the sheer volume of people, cows and vendors) and the waterfront is lively and attractive. We spent the evening sipping our Kiliminjaro lagers on the rooftop of the Africa House Hotel and watched dhows drift by on the water and the sun sink into the sea. Sigh.

The next morning Col and I woke up early to search for Easter eggs...well, that's what we wanted to do. Alas, being a primarily Muslim island it was somewhat difficult to find a Catholic church let alone a chocolate bunny or Cadbury egg. Faced with the reality that this might be a non-traditional Easter, we asked ourself the always insightful question: What would Jesus do? The answer was quite clear. Jesus would pay $20 and go swimming with the dolphins. I'm certain if we examine the Bible a bit closer you'll see that this is what he did immediately after making his rounds post-rise from the tomb. I'm sure Aunt Mar and the Adrians will back me up on this one. So we headed to the western part of the islands for yet another wildlife encounter.

Again I find myself comparing the experience we had in Africa to one I might have should I do the same activity in America. In America we most likely would have headed out to sea with lifejackets secured, full instructions, lecture on the importance of staying a certain distance from these wild creatures, etc., etc. Yeah. Not so much in Zanzibar. Here we were tossed flippers and a mask, whisked onto a long row boat with a motor and shuffled out into the ocean with two young men who spoke about 5 words of English. These five words? "Go jump now see dolphins." So we did.

After about 15 minutes of driving around looking for our bottlenosed friends we stumbled upon a family of about 8 dolphins. When they would come to the surface our drivers would utter their five words and we'd toss ourselves off the row boat and into the mix. The whole process was somewhat stressful but incredibly rewarding once you entered the water. I recalled my friend Jana telling me about swimming with the dolphins and she was right on - it's amazing. We were lucky enough to swim right in the middle of the family - dolphins on either side- and hear them making their sonic noises to each other. Occassionally they'd slip to the bottom and we'd swim above them. The whole thing was somewhat surreal. Elephants? Check. Lions? Check. Dolphins and assorted sea life? Check and check.

Following the dolphin excursion we took a taxi north to Kendwa - a small town (meaning they have a mini-market and one place for chapatis) with several beach resorts. We spent our Easter evening strolling along the white sands and enjoying the fresh catch of the day. Being a fisherman we agreed that this too was something Jesus would do. It was a lovely Easter. We hope you all enjoyed your ham and cheesy potatos (admittedly something that would have made the day even better). We are spending today just relaxing on the beach and contemplating a beginning scuba class for tomorrow. After that we'll return to Dar and make our way south to Selous game reserve. So I'll sign off for now and head off to get a cocktail (or cold Coke but cocktail sounds more beachy) and just kick back for a while. Hope all is well and we'll blog again soon.

Hot Times on Spice Island remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Last we blogged we were heading out of that emerald non-isle, Uganda and back to arid, western Kenya. As fate would have it, our trusty guide Skank had to attend his best mates wedding in South Africa so we were assigned a temporary guide, Andrew, for this last leg of Kenya. We had met Andrew briefly when we camped on his family's farm in Nakuru. This was indeed a fortunate turn of fate's hand. Andrew rules. He has lived in Kenya his entire life - his great grandpa and great uncles coming down from Europe to survey the land for the Brits. He knows the entire history of Kenya, every tribal ritual, every name of every flora and fauna and has a story for just about anything related to his native land. Even more of a bonus, Andrew spent most of his young adulthood as a photographer and videographer of Kenyan wildlife. He's the number one guy that movie producers and documentarians ask for when shooting here. He had great stories of working on Survivor: Africa, "The Long Way Down" with Ewan McGregor, taking care of Woody Harrelson when he wanted to tour the area (Andrew's definitely not a fan) and being on numerous sets for German, French, British and American filmmakers.

The Van De Walles are long time Survivor fans (shout out here to my Leahy cousins and Blake who also wear the buff) so I really appreciated his tale of how Mark Burnett (the producers) wanted to shoot an elephant trumpeting and giraffes running parallel to the Survivors car as they entered Samburu country. He made us feel less guilty about our love affair with the show when he told us they only had one chance to get the shot - it had to be done in real time. I always thought they'd do multiple takes until they got the shot but according to Andrew "it had to be filmed in real time or it wasn't considered authentic and therefore not used in the show." Using his knowledge of animal behavior and skills as a videographer Andrew was able to time the car so that it got between a mother elephant and her baby right as she reached the road. Cue trumpet. He also knew how to spook a herd of traditionally lazy giraffes into running right by it on their way to graze. This is just one of the hundreds of interesting tales we heard as we rambled through the countryside. Another claim to fame...he wrote his university thesis on how the traditional wildlife film should evolve to focus on the host vs. the actual wildlife. A producer from Discovery wanted to test his theory so they gave him a small bonus to film a show on snakes. In his search for a good host he followed a lead from a friend who had met a guy in Australia that knew a lot about snakes and was really charismatic. Andrew hired him and Steve Irwin (aka: The Crocodile Hunter) stepped in to the spotlight. You think this might be the first thing someone would say upon meeting you - "Hi, Andrew Nightengale here. I discovered the Croc Hunter" but no. It casually came up about three days into travel. The guy just ruled.

So we rolled around Kenya, Andrew took us through another part of Eldoret - even more war-torn following the violence - and we managed to snap a few unassuming photos of the damage to show you when we get back. Like all the places we've been in the Rift Valley, the locals were incredibly welcoming and warm and all the campsites were eerily empty. We went down into the valley for a stay at beautiful Lake Baringo. Lake Baringo, to those in the know, is famous for it's birds, crocs and hippos. Long time birdwatchers, Colin and I were in heaven. Okay, that's a total lie. Col and I can appreciate a good bird every now and then but we certainly won't be going to a Twitchers convention any time soon. We were more interested in the crocs and hippos. With Mr. Wildlife at our side we were able to get frighteningly close to the crocs. Like 2 or 3 feet close. Apparently the lake is riddled with fish so our prehistoric pals weren't craving a side of white legs. The hippos, which gaze right there at the camp site, keep to the water by day and come up by the tents at night to graze. That's right - COME UP NEXT TO THE TENTS TO GRAZE.

Now, some of you (Sinead Gildea) might recall the Time magazine article of a few years back that said Hippos are the second most dangerous animal to man. I certainly recalled this as Colin and I sat in our tent, eyes wide, listening to the various grunts of numerous hippos outside. Andrew made sure we knew what to look for should we need a bathroom break at 3am. He pointed our flashlights at a couple of big beauties just grazing away. Yeah, I think we'll hold it until the morning. Thanks. Needless to say these hungry, hungry hippos stuck to grazing and didn't add us to their death toll. I think Peter, our travel bud, and Col and I were all extremely relieved when daylight finally arrived and the hippos retreated back into the Lake.

That morning Andrew took us to his favorite spot on the Lake where we engaged in a little bird and hippo watching amidst reeds and lilypads. We purchased a few tilapia from local fisherman (there were approximately four on the entire lake) for breakfast. Again, a lie. We actually used them to lure the fish eagles - basically an American Eagle that enjoys fishing. The boat driver would wave a tilapia, the eagle would soar over from an island, the boat guy would launch the fish and the eagle would swoop down and grab it. I could have killed an entire morning with this simple game but the eagles soon had their fill and we needed to move on as well.

Next stop - Lake Naivasha. After a delicious lunch of sweet and sour pork we made our way to the next campsite. If you like monkeys, you'd enjoy a stay at the Fisherman's Camp on Lake Navasha. Monkeys galore. Anyway, Lake Naivasha is right next to Hell's Gate National Park - a natural geothermal spot where you can rent bikes and ride into the gorge. Sounds good...until 15 minutes into the ride when you realize it's called Hell's Gate for a reason and you are riding mountain bikes that really have no gears or seat padding. Makes for a long time in the gorge. On the positive side you are right there amidst the wildlife (sans large predators) and we were pretty much the only ones there so it was rather peaceful. When we reached the gorge we hired a local guide to walk us through it. Attention movie fans: This is the gorge that was a) used as the sketching place for the scene in The Lion King where Mufasa is killed and b) featured prominently in the movie Tomb Raider. It's also home to many flash floods so we did the shortened version of the tour.

Our guide, another amazing guy, was from the Northern Somburu tribe (sorry for the spelling) and was another one of those "holy cow" stories. Twin brother shot by cattle ranchers, forced to quit school to watch the cows, started teaching younger children by a tree while the cows grazed, raised money for a school, made his way to Navasha, started this guide thing, funded another school there, stopped his sisters from being married off and is paying for their schooling himself, saw 8 of his friends brutally murdered in the recent conflict, working towards changing attitudes of men regarding how they treat women. And he's only 22! Sean - you are 23 - let's pick up the pace pal.

After our exhausting ride we returned to camp, freshened up and made our way to Elsamere - home of Joy and George Adamson of Born Free fame. Had some tea and small cakes (that would be a cookie, right Dad), looked at some pictures of their life, agreed that yes, we are all born free and basically called it an afternoon. Good times. The next day Andrew took us on a tour of Nairobi and dropped us off at our campsite to wait for Skanky. It was a sad goodbye. If ever you need a tour guide through Kenya call Andrew. I promise you won't be disappointed.

We reunited with our guy Skanky and we're now officially back on track with him...which is quite a different track indeed. Unfortunately Peter had to make his way home to Britain so we said cheerio to him last night and headed off for Tanzania this morning. I'm currently sitting in a bakery in Arusha, full on meat pie and Coke, waiting for Skank to do whatever it is he does when he wanders off. Tomorrow Col and I head off to the Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater for some full-on wildlife action (as seen in the Buhrfiend's award winning video). We will be camping in the bush for two days so we won't have any access to email. Supposedly camping "in the bush" is a lot like camping in Baringo... only any animal can wander up to the tent. Gazelle, giraffe, lion. Yeah, should be a fun one. We are just hoping the honey badgers take a pass. Don't know what that is? Perhaps the scariest animal in the bush in our opinion. Look them up. They are about the size of a small Labrador and can take down a Cape Buffalo. Awesome.

Well, have a great St. Paddy's Day! Next we blog we'll be on our way to Zanzibar - Spice Island! Quick shout out to our niece Annie who just turned one. Happy Birthday, Annie! And a couple shout outs to our blog suscribers: Rich, Elizabeth, Josh, Uncle Norm and Lauren. Way to go the distance with us.

And we're off.....

Patty's Day Tanzania Style remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The Gorilla Trek had the feeling of the climax of the Uganda section of our trip, which it probably was, but the days following it have certainly measured up.

The day following the gorilla encounter, we headed a few hours west to Lake Bunyoni, hailed as "Uganda's Switzerland". There was not a Swiss Army Knife nor a block of cheese to be found (unfortunately for Mar), however we could see what they meant. The lake itself was enormous - it took us a good hour just to drive halfway around it - and it was surrounded on all sides by mountains. Stunningly beautiful. We were greeted by a two hour downpour (hello early rainy season), but it ended in time for us to walk around to the nearest village, see some of the local kids do a traditional dance, and we even managed to get a free boat ride back to our camp from some Slovenian missionaries (I think they liked the fact that we had been to their home country).

The next day we made the long drive to Jinja, long beloved by limerick writers needing a place that rhymes with "ninja". Not too much to report that day, but the following day we had perhaps our most thrilling day of the trip so far - white water rafting on the Nile River. Having little to no rafting experience, we were quite surprised to find that we would be tackling a number of Level 5's along the way. But we went along, and despite flipping the boat a few times, we survived with just a few scratches and a solid sunburn. Thankfully our guide decided to skip the Level 6 rapid known simply as "The Bad Place"... good call. So we had a fantastic time along a beautiful stretch of the Nile, and we met some great people. We even thought about heading back out today, but decided to relax, read, and nurse our sunburns with some cold bottles of Nile Beer instead. A wise choice, I think.

The pictures above are of Lake Bunyoni and rafting - Colin's in the back with the black helmet and Mar is the one near the center of the boat cowering in fear of losing a contact lens. And scroll down to see some more photos we uploaded today.

Tomorrow we leave Uganda to back to Kenya. It's 3 or 4 consecutive camping days ahead, so it may be a while until our next post. We hope all our family and friends are doing well... take care!

Caught between a rock and The Bad Place remains copyright of the author cmgildea, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I believe in the last blog I said we'd be trekking in the Impenetrable Forest. This was a lie. We were actually in Mgahinga Park - a much smaller but just as dense park. There was nothing penetrable about the place so it really was an honest mistake. We drove by the Impenetrable one today if that counts. Anyway...

We left our lodge at 7am and after a VERY bumpy ride we arrived at the entrance to the Park. I believe "imposing" was the word Colin used to describe it. The top of the volcano and the surrounding hillsides were shrouded in a thick mist. The ranger told us that we might have to hike a good 5 hours to see the gorillas as they were on the move into the Congo. There were a few rain clouds in the sky so we put on our rain gear as a precautionary measure. Walking sticks in hand, we set out to find the gorillas.

We may have mentioned in the last posting that Uganda was beautiful - as green as Ireland in fact. This, of course, is due to the heavy amounts of rain the area receives over the course of 12 months. I think about 85% of their yearly rainfall fell on us during our hike. God bless Columbia sports rain pants and wide brim hats. I suppose the rain wouldn't have been so bad if the hike had been equivalent to say a stroll through Lincoln Park. But gorillas wouldn't be elusive if they were easy to spot would they?

Collectively Colin and I have hiked in many gorgeous parts of the world: The Cinque Terra in Italy, the Slovenian Alps, Yosemite Park, the hills of Vermont in the fall, etc. Nothing, in my opinion, was as amazing as hiking that volcano. The vegetation was incredibly thick; requiring a ranger to blaze a trail with a machete in front of us. Just as the rain picked up even more (if that is possible) we'd dip into dense bamboo forests where you had to squeeze yourself between shoots. Then pop out into lush greenery again. The mud was deep and slick so it was a challenge to stay upright or not lose a shoe to the sinkholes. So yes, perhaps the hardest hike (besides the time Rich and I were lost on the other side of Mount Mansfield) but may have made sighting the gorillas even more rewarding.

It happened without much warning. We were weaving our way through a maze of bamboo when the ranger just stopped and said "gorillas". WHAM. Right in front of us was the silverback just hanging out. We were about 8 feet away when a member of our group committed a cardinal gorilla trekking sin - she used her camera flash. Crash, bam, boom that silverback came charging out of the bamboo like kids coming down the stairs on Christmas morning. If I had any reservations that this was going to be like a visit to the zoo they were promptly scared out of me at that moment.

Lucky for us it was just a harmless warning. He settled himself comfortably on the grass nearby and we proceeded to take flashless photos and oggle every time he yawned or scratched himself. In all seriousness you could have given the guy a cup of coffee and a paper and he would have looked like any overweight guy on a Saturday morning. Soon we noticed another visitor peeking through the bamboo - a female gorilla and her 2 month old baby. They were quickly joined by the older brother who solicited a few "awws" from the girls in the group as he played lovingly with his dad the silverback.

We proceeded to move through the bamboo to see the rest of the troop. It was amazing how close we got to them - really just a few feet away. At one point, when I was a bit ahead of Colin, I turned back to motion to him to take a picture. As Colin was trying to decipher my "take a picture of this" hand movements, the silver back came strolling about 6 feet away from him - ripping through the bamboo like it was cotton candy. I almost screamed "Looook ooooout!" but then remembered cardinal rule number 2: No Shouting. It was totally intense and just about the coolest thing I've ever seen. We have plenty of pictures and video to share when we get home.

You can only spend an hour with the gorillas (which feels like 3 minutes) so we left unwillingly but totally satisfied by our encounter. The hike back to the base was much shorter as we all slid down the "path" which had turned into a river of mud. Exhausted but elated we said goodbye to our guides and headed back to our lodge. Note that the lodge we stayed in, Travellers Rest, has a rich history with the gorillas. It was the place Dian Fossey would come to take a break from her work. I was reading a book about her while looking out at the volcanic mountains where she conducted her research. It was one of those moments...

Special thanks to our friend Lee for her story which made such an impact and inspired this trip. Yay Lee! See you in Botswana! And another special thanks to Dian Fossey for all her early work with the gorillas. She may have gone off the deep end for awhile but her pioneer studies have helped keep these majestic and beautiful animals around for a while longer.

Okay - so I still haven't told you about our driver. Again, that is best saved for another post. Let's just say he's 28, South African and answers to the name Skank (or Skanky - which I prefer). The name suits him in many, many ways. Colin and I have grown incredibly fond of this character. He's almost impossible to describe in a blog so I might not even try. Thank God he's a good driver, though, as driving to Lake Binyoni - where we are hanging out today - was pretty trecherous. He also has a good way with matatu drivers - the crazy minivan drivers my friend Pat told me to watch out for (Side note to Pat: some little kid in one of the towns asked if we had a balloon. Hilarious.) His "good way" involves yelling "where did you get your license" out the window at them and tossing a random vegetable or whatever is handy at their car. Awesome. I can't fault the guy because he makes an amazing mac and cheese. The one thing I do give him endless razz about is his love of the show According to Jim. I need to beat it out of him.

Alright - must go. Skank is trying to lure us down to the bonfire for a Nile Special where I'm sure Colin and I will continue our debate as to whether Tuskar or Nile is the better African beer. Go, go Nile says I.

We head off to Jinja tomorrow for the "best white water rafting in the world." Also home of the mango worm that lays eggs in your damp clothing where they go on to hatch in your skin. Hmmm. Seems like we'll have to stay on the raft.

Hope all is well in your neck of the woods!

Colin in the Mist remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Tomorrow we begin the long journey to Uganda to see the gorillas. We are thinking about all of you!

Conflict in the Cheese Capital remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Col and I are officially back on the road and heading through western Kenya. When we last posted we were on our way to the Ozar's house for lunch and didn't get to tell you about visiting the Meru Children's Home for infants and kids under 5. It was adorable. Those kids are certainly cutie-pies. It was hard not to pick them all up and give them a big hug especially after their song and dance greeting. Mr. Ozar warned us that it might be hard to get away - they want you to stay and play and the sister's are warm and welcoming and quick to put the kettle on. He devised an escape plan involving a "very important meeting with the bishop" so we could continue on our mission of collecting pictures throughout Meru for the website Col is putting together. You know us and the bishop - thick as thieves.

After we finished getting all of our photos, we rushed back to our little house, packed it up (silently thanked the Italian missionaries for the sweet accommodations) and headed to the other side of Mt. Kenya for our first real break. The Ozars took us to one of their favorite spots (now one of mine) - a place called Sweetwaters. It's a tented lodge on the edge of a small-ish game park. While the lack of tourists have kept the breakfast buffets away, they certainly have been beneficial to those of us on game drives. Miles of savanna and nary another car to be found. Ranger Bud Ozar was at the top of his game taking us through the parks. And eagle-eye Sue Ozar can spot a Cape Buffalo from miles away. We were extremely fortunate that they took us to this very special spot. And traveling with the Ozars is very akin to traveling with my parents...Mr. Ozar is always willing to "take this little trail over here...are those tracks? Looks like fresh dung. Let's just keep following it..." While Mrs. Ozar is saying "Bud, let's just get back on the real road before we are taken down by lions."

A highlight of the Sweetwater trip (aside from the hot showers) was the chance to really see the wildlife in full-on Discovery Channel action. Although most of the game must be viewed in the comforts of your 4X4, you can take a guided walk to visit the hippos in a van down by the river. Okay - no van, but they lounge around in the water and you view from the ledge above. As we were making our way to the river it was very clear to all of us that we were certainly not alone. A grunt here, a tree branching breaking there, yes, something a little larger than a breadbox was just around the corner. As we reached the spot where the hippos were floating below we discovered the sounds that had us all a little on edge....two white rhinos duking it out on the other side of the river. Full-on, no-holds-barred fighting. I could literally hear my Dad saying "ALRIGHT!" as their big behinds knocked down the brush. The guide then turned to Mrs. Ozar and said "it's a good thing they are on the other side or we would all be in trouble." You think?

The guide had to call in the fight and bring rangers in to break it up. After all, it's a rhino sanctuary and it wouldn't be good for the foundation if they started taking each other out. I guess they fight to the death so it's important to keep the kids apart if they start a tussle. Of course we had to get back in our car and see if we couldn't stalk them from the other side of the river - it's the Bud Ozar (and theoretically Ron Van De Walle) number one rule of game drives "go where the action is"- but we didn't see them again.

I have a feeling that the myriad of game drives we have in front of us will be wonderful but few will compare to that amazing experience. It's just too bad there wasn't any other tourists to brag to when we returned to the lodge for breakfast. Thanks again to Mr. and Mrs. Ozar for our trip to Sweetwater!!! We had a sad goodbye when our driver came to get us and take us back to Nairobi - it was such a wonderful time in Meru - but we have our Masai beaded crosses as a reminder of our experience.

After a looooooong and dusty drive to Nairobi we made it to Karen's Camp and prepped for the next 2 weeks. We'll be traveling by 4X4 to Uganda with our South African driver Skank (yes, Skank) and a British gentleman named Peter. Should be interesting. The first leg is a drive through western Kenya where they had some recent political troubles. The good news is that the peace treaty between tribes was finally signed and the danger has all but disappeared. The Kenyan people have been very appreciative that we've decided to come despite the conflict and they are all positive about their future. Like all conflicts like this, it's not the majority of the people who want to fight - just a small group of angry ones who cause a ripple effect. Continue to send positive vibes to the Kenyan people - they could really use a few right now.

Alright - sorry for the lack of photos on this blog but I think you'd be understanding if you know how long it took just to get an internet connection. I'm sure we've given you enough to full the imagination for now! Keep sending the comments - we love to hear from you!

Oh - note to Erin, Coleen and Alison: Little Baby Peanut and Slim Finn are really enjoying the trip. They were all over the game park...that Finn is like a lion magnet!

Back on the Road remains copyright of the author vandewme, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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