Barcelona

Barcelona will always make me think of architecture: beautiful, outrageous architecture.  To understand the root of our word gaudy you only have to visit Gaudi's beautiful and, yes, crazy buildings and the park he created.  The cathedral, Sagrada Familia, is still under construction and reminds me of drip castles on the beach.  Not only is the design incredible but the size and scope of the building is mind boggling.

Gaudi's influence is everywhere in the city.  We had so much fun visiting an apartment building he designed and built just before the first world war.  At the time, the neighbors sued to have it torn down. The roof patio of the high rise looks like something from Star Wars.  These are the chimneys and vents.

The attic, where clothes lines were run is an incredible display of engineering acumen.

My favorite Gaudi creation is Park Guell.  It was a planned housing community in the hills overlooking Barcelona.  Gaudi designed and built all the common areas but World War One came along and killed the project.  Only one lot was sold, to Gaudi's attorney.  The family still lives in the home in the middle of this fantasy land park over looking Barcelona and the Mediterranean.

Barcelona was the last stop on our wonderful celebration of National Geographics 125 year anniversary.  There were a lot of last minute exchanging of addresses and sharing pictures.  We were joined in Barcelona by John Fahey, Chairman and CEO of National Geographic.  John and his wife were very nice but it is difficult to join a group that has bonded during a trip encompassing ten countries scattered from the middle east, Oceania, Asia, Africa and the roof of the world.  Our final dinner together was an absolute blast with many toast and too many jabs and jokes to recall.

Mountain Gorillas

I am sitting in front of a crackling fire in our bungalow - looking out on a range of volcanoes. The clouds have descended into the valleys below us and the thunder is booming and crackling as the lightning plays off the ridges.


Earlier today we trekked up one of the volcanoes with a ranger through native farm land. The terraces for potatoes ranged from fifty square feet to four square feet along the steep, rocky route to the park. All the people we met along the way, women hoeing in the small gardens to children on their way to school were full of smiles and greetings. The climb was arduous with an undefined trail that was rocky and uneven.


A good challenge at 10,000' of elevation. A tall native stone wall, five feet high and three feet wide marked the boundary to the park. The wall, moss and vine covered, had no access other than to scale the loose volcanic stones and hope not to break a leg. We were met at the wall by two heavily armed tracker/rangers. The trackers spend every day with the gorillas and track them as they change areas each day. The change in vegetation was immediate and drastic, we were in a high elevation rain forest so thick that we could not move forward without the porters hacking away with machetes.


Several times I would simply lean back and the nettles and other vegetation would hold me up. As we trekked higher, with one machine gun armed tracker leading and the other behind (they were for protection against buffalo and elephants) we began hearing snapping branches and grunts. We met up with another group of armed trackers where upon we left our porters and packs and continued with the trackers into the midst of the gorillas.


It was nothing as we had imagined. We were surrounded by mountain gorillas only feet from us. The large males and silverbacks would walk through us in the thick vegetation (we couldn't get out of their way because there was no where for us to go). A friend and I were watching a black back male munching nettles when he decided he liked our spot better. The huge male simply, with the stroke of his arm, moved Ruth into the thicket.


He stopped a foot from me and pulled the nettles I was standing on. Gentle, beautiful creatures.





Two days earlier, we flew from Botswana to Kigali, Rwanda. Kigali was a real surprise, as was the rest of the country. No litter anywhere, plastic bags banned and the president leading the effort to keep the country clean. Kigali is a city of two million and looks like many other African cities with the exception of how clean the city is along with shrubbery and even the occasional public flower bed.



We relished in the endless hot water that did not smell of the wood fire it was heated over, electricity, and comfortable beds. During our short stay we visited the Genocide Memorial. In only a few months in the 1990's two million of the seven million Rwandan's were brutally tortured and killed. Two hundred and fifty nine thousand of the Kigali victims are buried at the memorial. It is moving experience that brought tears to almost all. We left the thousand hills of Kigali and drove north into the mountains: beautiful, classic volcanoes where this installment to the blog began.


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Location:Kigali, Rwanda

Botswana Part 1

Botswana is a land of severe contrast. We have traveled through the flooded bottoms of the Okavango River Delta to the arid plains of the Kalahari desert. A wonderful example of extremes only a short plane ride apart. The Okavango is a land of tall grass prairies with abundant water holes and the slow moving, lily pad adorned rivers and tributaries moving across the flat landscape of the inland delta. The fauna changes within feet from reeds and grasses to large trees and acacia forests scarred by the areas abundant elephant population. In every direction are large termite mounds, many with diligent impala and kudos perched atop on the look out for the extremely rare African wild dogs.






Lions and leopards can be found in the grasslands and forests adjacent to the delta.





The rivers and numerous water holes are populated with large family groups of hippo. The crocodiles, why present, are well hidden in the rushes and reeds along the banks.





Wart hogs are ever present rutting for tender roots and lily tubers in the mud. Bird life abounds and is tremendous in diversity.





Our camp along the Okavango could only be described as primitive. We were honored that Derek and Beverly Joubert set up the camp for our visit and will dismantle it now we have moved on. The camp was rustic, no electricity, the meals, primarily breakfast were coked over a wood campfire in the dark. We were able to shower - a canvas water bag hung from the ridge pool in our tent.


The spectacular wildlife, scenery, and opportunity to spend relaxed time with the Joubert's more than made up for the lack of creature comforts. We slept soundly only feet from the banks of the river with a cacophony of frogs, baboon cries, and the roar of hunting lions nearby. Our close encounters with rare wild dogs was very special.

A short bush flight delivered us from the slow moving clear waters and tall grass plains of the Okavango Delta to the harsh, arid pans of the Kalahari Desert.


Our camp is perched on a sandy ridge above the only water within a twenty five mile radius. The muddy water hole is small and appears to be shrinking noticeably each day. We were greeted by two young male lions lounging in the shade of an acacia bush as we drove into camp. These two males played a major role in one of the most exciting experiences of the trip.

Location:Tau Pan, Botswana

Botswana 2 - Roar of the Lions of the Kalahari

As mentioned earlier, the Kalahari is an immense arid Desert. Low, sandy hills and rocky ridges separate the salty, flat pans - the remnants of ancient shallow lakes.





That any life exists is surprising: the huge diversity of animals and plants we encountered is amazing. We saw more species of birds, both large and small, than I can describe. Flocks of ostriches, huge gatherings of white storks preparing for their flight to Europe, beautiful lilac rollers, secretary birds, and sparrow larks. Cheetahs, leopards, lions. Kudos, Springbok, jackals, Bat Eared Fox, Steenbok, Oryx, giraffe ..... I could go on and on. I wish I had the bandwidth to post more pictures.


Late in the afternoon we set out on a walk with a Kalahari bushman, the Sa'an people. Their language is unique, they speak with a series of clicks. For this reason, they have all taken names we can pronounce: Shoes, Sixpence, Lucky, Voter, and P.K. The walk was the most fascinating hike: P.K. emptied his small leather shoulder bag, about the size of a quiver. It contained a very small bow, several poisoned arrows about the diameter of a number 2 pencil and 18" long with no fletching, a friction fire starting kit (two sticks), a digging stick, sharpened giraffe bone, and rattles made from cocoons and ostrich eggs that are tied around ankles to dance after a kill.


As we trekked through the bush the bushman pointed out each tree or bush needed to make his kit, the flexible wood from a certain tree for the bow, another for the arrows. His preferred softwood to use to twirl the harder thorn wood to make a fire. The dense, heavy wood for his digging stick. We stopped frequently so he could dig up roots used for congestion, leaves to stop bleeding. We came to a small shelter and he quickly, a minute or less, started a fire. He showed us the plants and tubers where they get water. While extracting water from a tuber, we cooked a wild cucumber and ate a small wild melon - both water sources. For ten months out of the year there is no standing water in the Kalahari. The bushmen depend on extracting moisture from plants or the guts of animals. P.K. stripped the bark from another bush and made a braided rope by simply rolling it along his thigh- his bow string. He removed the string from his bow and constructed a small ground snare to catch birds. Amazing, a bushman can find shelter, locate water and prepare a meal in thirty minutes in this dry, hostile environment. The Sa'an people are one of the few remaining hunter-gatherer groups and are not expected to exist beyond this century. I cannot describe how privileged I feel to have had this experience.

While digging tubers from the sand we heard loud roars - lions at the water hole and none to happy about something. P.K. quietly told us that if the lions came our way to calmly walk to his shelter. The lions can smell his fire and would know P.K. is home. The lions appeared to be a bigger concern then we realized. A Land Cruiser was dispatched for our use and we had a wild ride through the bush. As it turns out, the dominant male lion was at the water hole when the two younger males decided they wanted a drink. They walked through the middle of our camp between the huts. The large male quickly hid in the brush but the two young upstarts smelled him and began a stalk. The fight was on, the older male fighting - whirling and leaping first one way and then another as the young lions attacked from either side. Seeing he was out numbered, the older male began a mile long sprint through the bush with the two interlopers in hot pursuit. Finally, winded and out of breath, the older male took a stand only to be quickly dominated. The two young males straddled the falling king before backing off. They strutted about, marking any bush or stray bunch of dry grass before settling down to watch what the old fellow intended. It was a face off with the opponents separated by about 50'. The usurpers began a deep, sonorous roar waiting for a response. Any response by the old lion and the fight would resume. The lone lion remained mute, breathing heavily, bloodied and injured.







We watched until well after dark wanting to see the outcome of this incredible drama but eventually returned to camp under a sky filled from horizon to horizon with stars. the Milky Way was a thick cloud above us as we made our way back under the Southern Cross. Some of the guides and bushmen remained and informed us that the old lion was allowed to slink away, yielding his territory. The female lions are hiding with their cubs, the new males will kill the cubs of the deposed if they find them.

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Location:Tau Pan Camp, Botswana

Botswana 3- Fire Starter

During the bush walk, the Kalahari bushnan, P.K., I developed a relationship. He helped me set a snare and promised to teach me to make fire. By 5:30 the following morning we were bouncing across the desert in an open Land Cruiser. P.K. Was our tracker and Alex the guide/driver. Nothing escaped P.K.'s notice. We spied a pair of Black Backed jackals trotting through dry grass.


P.K. recognized their action indicated they were following a hunting cheetah or leopard. We began tracking the jackals and, sure enough, leopard.


After a great morning game drive, P.K. And I made a plan. We began scanning for the correct trees and bushes to build my kit. The desert is P.K.'s Home Depot - truly amazing. I would select branches or limbs and P.K. would politely consider my choice and then gently tease showing the correct pieces to choose - I struggled to see the difference. After a mid day nap and lunch, we enjoyed afternoon high tea and returned to the bush.

The bushmen's intelligence is evident in their sense of humor. Always laughing, loving puns and double entendre's. P.K informed me that he had cold beer and wine along for a sundowner but I could not have a drink until the fire was started. Pressure. We had a great drive seeing even more mammals, birds and insects but, as the sun began to set, we pulled into a grove of acacia adjacent to the Tau Pan. Time to try out my new skills - a cold beer rested on my aboriginal skills.





P.K. And I worked on the fire while Alex set up the bar.





Success!

I am now the proud owner of a bushman fire kit.

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Location:Tau Pan Camp, Kalahari Desert

Paradise

The Maldives take the the description of paradise to a whole new level. We have been fortunate to visit many of the most beautiful islands and places in the world but we have yet to see any tropical paradise to compare. We rested and relaxed for two days, recovering from our furious pace through Asia and preparing for three safaris in Africa. We snorkled in crystal clear water, bicycled around our tiny island in the shade of mangroves, and played on beautiful white sand beaches under palm trees. This was pure rest and relaxation so I will post a few pictures and leave it at that.











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Location:The Maldives

Luang Prabang, Laos

Another magical southeast Asian country with gentle, gracious people. It is interesting to hear the Laotians speak not of the Vietnam war, but of the American war. One of the wonderful bits of perspective a person can only gain through travel.

The Laotians are outgoing and quick to smile. They have an unsuspected sense of humor, enjoying cracking jokes or friendly teasing. The country has been communist since the mid 1970's but I detected a certain sense of nostalgia for the last king. The king died after several years in a communist 're-education' camp. The people enjoy many freedoms: religion, private ownership of land and businesses, and travel. They joke about the simplicity of voting since there is only one political party and a single candidate for each position.

Luang Prabang is located in northern Laos in the highlands. The mountains, while not high (the highest is only slightly over 9,000'), are dramatic and picturesque. The limestone cliffs are cut with waterfalls tumbling into deep pools only to flow over another drop creating a magical descent from shady pool to shady pool with the constant splash and cooling mist from the cascades.


Laos currently has forty nine separate cultural groups. Each with their own language and traditions. The Hmong people were only recently returned to Laos from Thailand. Hmong villages supported the United States during the Vietnam war and suffered the consequence after the U.S. pullout. Most fled across the Thai border hoping to be allowed into the United States. While many did make it out of Thailand, about 450,000 were trapped in Thai refugee camps. By the 1990's the Thai people decided they could no longer support the refugee camps and repatriated the Hmong people to Laos. The Hmong were allowed to return and establish villages.










The region is split by the Mekong river. On one side, roads, motorbikes, tuk-tuks and cars. A few hundred yards across the river is stepping back in time, no roads or motor vehicles. The nearest bridge is hundreds of miles to the south in the capital. During the wet season, the Mekong rises ten meters or more flooding all the small garden plots and sticky rice fields along the banks and washes all the bamboo structures away.










The Laotian villages west of the village are primitive, much like the Hmong villages. The people are friendly, the women busy with hand looms while the men mended nets.







I have said very little about religion in Laos. Buddhism is the dominant belief and there are close to forty temples in Luang Prabang. Several of the tribes, including the Hmong are animist. As in Bhutan, monks are a common sight.


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Location:Tau Pan, Botswana