Kotor Part 3: Herceg Novi – Serenading the Ghosts

The days were noticeably cooler now, with a morning mist hanging on the water as we sped around Kotor Bay on the local bus to Herceg-Novi (€3 one way) for the day. The narrow two-lane road hugged the coastline and in spots jutted out over the water to circumvent a sheer rock face.  When the landscape widened enough, houses were built on every patch of useable land in small clusters or standing alone.  At the farthest end of the bay we watched oyster farmers raft between their rows of buoys that marked the submerged delicacy growing in the depths below.

Further along the Lepetani – Kamenari Ferry (€4.50 per car, €1 for a bicycle, people free) offered a shorter and faster route that bypassed Kotor for travelers wanting to stay along the highway that hugged the Adriatic coast from Albania to Croatia.

Unlike Kotor and Budva, which were both built on flat coastal terrain, Herceg-Novi was built on a steep slope that runs many miles inland to the summit of Mount Orjen. The mountain, part of the coastal Dinaric Alps, is Montenegro’s tallest peak, which at 6210 ft is 500 ft taller than the more famous Mount Lovćen (5738 ft).  The town existed as a small fishing village for several hundred years until its first defensive walls were raised in 1382, making it one of the youngest and most fought-over fortified cities along the Adriatic coast. 

The old town is long and narrow, climbing up the hill from the water’s edge like an index finger poking out of the sea, making it a much harder city for the Omis pirates to attack.  Let’s face it, Mediterranean diet or not, it’s much more difficult to properly sack, pillage and plunder a city when you are exhausted from running up steep flights of stairs.  Though it wasn’t always the pirates that folks worried about.

The Turks built Kanli Tower on the highest point in the city after they defeated the Byzantines in 1482, only to be ousted by the Spanish for a brief stint of gentrification in 1538 when they quickly constructed Hispaniola Fortress higher up the mountain, to no avail; the keys of the city were returned to the Turks two years later.  The Venetians had their turn also, strengthening walls and building towers that survived until the devastating 1979 earthquake.  Its turbulent history also included the Austrian, Russian, French and Germans, all battling for beach chairs along the Herceg-Novi riviera.  Fortunately, the communists didn’t see the need to impose their minimalistic architecture on such a beautiful swath of earth and left it alone.  The people of the communist block were not as fortunate.

We were only an hour from Kotor when the bus pulled into the station above old town Herceg Novi, the last stop before the border with Croatia.  Walking downhill, we came upon the daily market, Gradska Pijaca Herceg Novi, and took the opportunity to purchase the makings for a picnic lunch. Bread, cheese, figs and a huge pomegranate filled our knapsack.  Old Town is of course surrounded by the apartment buildings of the new town, a pretty gentrification which has sprawled horizontally between the sea and the highway above town, hugging the hill for views of the bay.

The lane ended in Nikole Đurkovića Square in front of the ancient Sahat-Kul clock tower and gate, built by the Ottomans in 1667, that leads into the historic district.  Once through the gate, the dark passage opened onto palm-treed Belavista Square lined with cafes and umbrella tables. St. Michael Archangel Church anchored its center.  The style of this relatively modern church, built in 1911, is defined as Eclecticism, after its incorporation of architectural influences that reflected Herceg Novi’s diverse history.  Byzantine, Gothic, Romanesque, Islamic and Serbian Orthodox inspirations all blend seamlessly together. 

The old town was very quiet, and we had the narrow alleys and stairs to the Sea Fortress, the first fortification in Herceg Novi, practically to ourselves.  At the old town’s southernmost point, the massive stone wall of the fortress protrudes several stories high from the sea, like the bow of a cruise ship.  Its canons are quiet now, but during the summer tourist season it hosts citadel-top concerts and a film series from the spot where the guns once guarded the bay. 

We chose not to walk down to the harbor, saving our strength instead for the longer one-mile walk to the Savina Monastery. The monks sure did know how to pick locations for inspiration. The first stones of one of three churches were laid in 1030, and the setting above Kotor Bay is glorious. 

Being a Saturday, it was wedding day and we arrived just in time to watch a flag-waving crowd and brass band escort the bride and groom to their get-away car.  Moments later another wedding party arrived to celebratory horns. 

Next to the cathedral where the weddings were being held, the smallest and oldest church, Sveto Uspenje Bogorodice (St. Falling into Sleep of Holy Mother of God) has fascinating, ancient frescoes depicting the life of Christ.  Stairs in the hillside led to a cemetery above the monastery with beautiful views. 

The route back was relatively flat and took us through a pretty neighborhood filled with flowering shrubs to a smaller gateway into the old town, nearer the stairs to the Kanli Kula Fortress or Bloody Tower.

Built by the Turks in the 1500s, it was also believed “that the door to the castle opens only one way – to leave it alive was impossible.” Even with walls sixty feet wide in some places, the fortress was damaged in the 1979 earthquake that ravaged Montenegro.  During reconstruction, its courtyard was converted into an amphitheater with 1,000 seats for concerts and theater productions; perhaps the music soothes the restless souls of the ghosts still wandering the dungeon. Name and reputation aside, the views from the fortress walls were beautiful.

Walk a little, café, walk a little more. Today a long climb back to the bus station awaited us after that last sip of espresso.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Omo Valley Part 5: The Devil’s Doorstep and Whipping Scars

Below us, down an extremely steep embankment, a dugout canoe waited to take us across the Omo River to visit the Dassanech tribe.  “If we trip, we are going for a swim,” I mentioned to our guide. “Don’t worry, the crocodiles are further downstream, closer to the delta,” he replied with his dry sense of humor, as several people helped us down to the water. 

Sitting low in the water, the dugout canoe was stable like a kayak and large enough for three of us. Standing on the stern, a tribesman poled us upstream for a distance before letting the current take us across the river to the equally steep, opposite bank. 

At the top of the riverbank freshly tilled fields, bordered with narrow irrigation canals, gave way to a flat dry landscape that extended to the horizon. The Dassanech are the southernmost tribe in the Omo valley, and their territory extends south to the Kenyan border at Lake Turkana and west to South Sudan.  Even with the river and lake nearby it’s a dry inhospitable terrain that has suffered from years of extended drought and climate change.  The temperature often exceeds 110°F. Consequently, as cross border tensions over diminishing grazing lands have increased, the Ethiopian government has discouraged the nomadic ways of the Dassanech.  In exchange for reducing the size of their cattle herds the government is helping them farm along the banks of the Omo River by providing resources and irrigation pumps.

We entered the village through an opening in the corral that encircled it. Roughly made of tree branches, it serves to keep cattle in and hyenas out at night. Low dome-shaped huts called miede constructed from foraged branches, twigs, river reeds and leaves used to be covered in cowhide for protection from dust storms and infrequent rains.  Now corrugated tin is used instead as there are fewer cattle to slaughter.

The huts must be roasting hot inside! Children hoop rolled an old bicycle tire along the irrigation canal while others played with empty water bottles tied to sticks as tribeswomen sat in the meager shade provided by huts.

The more plentiful shade of the few large, ancient trees still standing by the river is reserved for the men of the village and is off-limits to women and children.

This unforgiving environment created the atmosphere of a desolate refugee camp whose tribespeople were awaiting an unknown future.  To borrow a phrase, it felt like “the doorstep to hell.” I don’t say this to be derogatory, but to describe the intensely harsh environment. It’s remarkable that roughly 20,000 Dassanech can survive in such brutal, extreme conditions.  In such an environment, people wear very little clothing except when going to town. 

Visiting the Dassanech gave us a new understanding of the effects of climate change and the desire to migrate as a consequence of it. As we left the village, some of the tribeswomen had gathered to display their crafts. There is a social contract that, aside from paying for photos, tourists should purchase handcrafts from the villagers. It’s an additional way to help.

Back across the river, we stopped for a late lunch at a small place along the road, before heading to a Hamar village near Turmi. Outside the restaurant was a small collection box for the local church. 

Just a little aside: we had no intestinal issues with the food during our time in Ethiopia. The pit toilets, on the other hand, were truly frightening and we are convinced that they could only be mastered if you grew up with them. The privacy of a “bush toilet” behind a large termite mound was the more sanitary alternative.  And bring hand sanitizer!  (Surprisingly, after a year on the road, we only succumbed to food poisoning when we were back in Europe.)

A brief torrential rain dampened the dust and cleaned the air as we headed for the afternoon’s destination.

The golden hour was quickly descending when we arrived in the Hamar village and we only had a short time to work our way around the village before the sun disappeared behind a cloud bank. 

We were supposed to camp overnight in the village, an activity my adventuresome, good sport of a wife reluctantly agreed to when we planned this portion of our tour. “It will be fun!” I reassured her at the time. But seeing our pup tent set up in a small corral surrounded by dried cow dung and imagining how we would deal with a bush toilet in the darkness of the savanna, I had my doubts. I had imagined more of a glamping experience. Thinking of our aching backs in the morning from sleeping on the ground without any kind of padding, we asked our guide for plan B. 

Since the guides would have been participating in this camping adventure with us, they didn’t put up much argument about changing plans. This brought us to a comfortable room at the Buska Lodge, an eco-inn isolated in the thorn tree-studded savanna outside Turmi.  It was an oasis after a long and hot day. By the time we arrived the generator and water had been turned on.  At dinner we discussed returning to the Hamar village the next day, but early enough in the afternoon to give us enough time to enjoy the tribe and their village.

Early the next afternoon, before we entered Turmi, we crossed a dry riverbed where several teams of men were digging deep into the sand to find water. Towns without any water infrastructure rely on these hardworking and enterprising men to fill the ubiquitous yellow jerry cans with water and deliver them by donkey cart to people’s homes. It was another sign of climate change that reinforced its dire consequences.

The men of the village were still out with the cattle herds, but we were greeted by a throng of women and children.  The Hamar are known for their tradition of “bull jumping” or “bullah,” a purification and rite of passage ceremony for young tribesmen to prove their worthiness for marriage. It’s a complex ritual that culminates with the young man jumping over the backs of 10 bulls, which are smeared with dung to be slippery, four times without falling. If he falls he will have to wait a year until he’s allowed to try again.

We did not witness a bullah; what we did see were the results of the whipping ceremonies that precede the bull jumping. Displayed on the bare backs of the women of the village were large raised scars, which were inflicted by the men; the women receive the beatings as a show of loyalty.  Before the bull jumping, the sisters and other female relatives of the initiates from the surrounding villages gather, and with sorghum beer brewed for the occasion dance, sing and blow horns.  As the dancing intensifies the women are said to ask, beg, or provoke the maza, young men who bull jumped but haven’t married yet, to whip them with long birch branches called miceres.  This act of scarification is a visual reminder of the women’s loyalty to the young man about to bull jump and earns them the right to his help in the future should they ever need it.  “If your sisters, female cousins, or aunties need your assistance in the future your debt to them is sealed. You can’t ignore their requests, period. After all, they nearly died for you!” 

By western morals this is a brutal practice, but with the Hamar it’s an ancient ritual that has been performed for centuries. They have a saying, “Women with scars are as strong as lions!”

The Hamar tribeswomen are also very distinctive with their dress, wearing long goatskin garments adorned with cowry shells and beads.  The first wife of a tribesman wears an iron neck ring with a protruding knob on the front, called a binyere, that visually distinguishes her status as the first wife, above two esente, simple iron collars, that she has worn since her engagement.  The collars are permanently placed on the woman by the village blacksmith and only removed by her husband upon her death. Additional wives only wear simple metal necklaces to indicate their lower status.

We stayed late into the day, wandering through the village watching children play atop the cattle corrals while waiting for the herds to return and the sky slowly deepen to darkness.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Omo Valley Part 3: Ancient Ways and Roadblocks

Our guide rousted us early for our drive to visit the agro-pastoralist Mursi tribe, in Mago National Park, only to have our trip delayed at the border to the region by a chain across the road.  There were only a few vehicles in front us, but two lines soon formed: tourist transports on the left, and on the right, trucks and buses hauling supplies and people to the cotton and sugar cane plantations.  “This hasn’t happened in a while. It means there is some sort of incident with the tribes that police need to resolve before we can go further,” Ephrem explained as he killed the engine.  As time wore on impatient drivers, guides, (ours included) and passengers began to walk through the lines of stalled traffic, searching for information.  Rumors of “soon,” floated by several times. Some groups turned around so they wouldn’t miss their flights to Addis Abba. IMG_3308 We would have been terribly dissappointed if this had happened to us and we missed visiting the Mursi tribe. (Note to self – don’t leave important events to the last day.) Curious children made their way amidst the tourist vehicles, looking through the windows and asking for soap, shampoo, pens, pencils, caramels, and empty water bottles. The kids would have been happy with anything anyone gave them. Some pointed to the clothes we were wearing, hoping we would donate them.  Folks make do with very little here and wear things until they are threadbare, out of necessity.  Often, we saw older children wearing infant onesies with the feet of the garment cut off.  We are not criticizing; it’s all they had.  It saddened us and we wished we had brought an extra suitcase of clothes along to donate to a village.  Eventually there was a burst of activity with rumbling engines at the front of the line and folks running back to their rides. IMG_2607We were the third car in a group of five that was being led by a pickup truck full of armed paramilitary policemen.  Many of the incidents that have occurred are related to the increase in truck and bus traffic roaring through Mursi territory on the way to new cotton and sugarcane plantations along the banks of the Omo River. IMG_3207 Cattle are very often herded down the roads and sometimes are struck and killed, along with their herders.  Often drivers do not stop to take responsibility.  In the eyes of the villagers, the local authorities have not resolved the situation.  As a result, tribespeople will set roadblocks to rob buses carrying plantation workers and extract revenge on truckers.  A while later we stopped and were assigned an armed escort, with an AK-47, who accompanied us for the duration of our visit. He was euphemistically called a scout.IMG_3060Turning off the dirt road, branches scratched against the side of the truck as we followed a narrow dirt track through the savanna to a clearing where a small group of thatched huts stood. Soon the women of the village stopped what they were doing to greet us.

Nowadays regarded as a sign of beauty and self-esteem, the tradition of lip-plates, debhinya, and ear-plugs with which the Mursi tribeswomen adorn themselves is thought by some anthropologists to have begun centuries ago to discourage slave traders from taking them captive. The Mursi have no oral history, however, to support this theory. It most likely signifies that a woman has reached puberty. Both men and women also practice scarification, which is accomplished when a wound, made with a thorn, is rubbed with ash and dirt so that it heals into a thick, raised scar. Today some of the young women of the tribe are choosing not to stretch their lower lips, instead keeping only the ear-plug. It’s a woman’s choice, though the older generation believes “the lip-plate serves to remind people of a woman’s commitment to her culture.”

Tourists have been coming in larger numbers every year to the Omo Valley since the 1970’s and income from posing for photos has become increasingly important in a drought-prone environment that necessitates visiting the local markets more frequently for supplies to survive.

As unique and interesting as the experience truly was and not to be cynical, there was an element of “dressing up for the tourists” revealed when we realized some of the tribeswomen were exchanging items among themselves or going into their huts for a wardrobe change, to create a different look in pursuit of more tourist dollars for additional photos.

We did admire their business acumen and thoroughly enjoyed visiting them. At the end of the day they still struggle to survive in a harsh environment. It was a win-win for everyone.

Leaving the Mursi, we headed to an Ari village closer to Jinka and were pleasantly startled when a dik-dik darted from the bush ahead of us. Chance encounters are the only way to see the smallest and consequently the most elusive antelope in Africa. Further along our guide spotted an Arabian bustard in the tall grass along the road.IMG_3491It was a steep walk up a trail through a forest of false banana, enset, to a well-kept sturdy hut with a medicinal herb garden. IMG_3710Outside two women were pinching clay into bowls and teapots that would later be sold at a weekly market.

Downhill from the hut a toolmaker was using a makeshift hand bellows to add oxygen to his fire.  Heating metal to a glow, he would hammer it out on a rock in front of him. As we sat watching him a small group of children gathered around us.  Intrigued by Donna’s short and straight black hair, the oldest girl of the group started to braid it into cornrows.  Silently communicating, they each enjoyed the experience. “That little girl had really strong fingers! I don’t know how she managed to braid such short hair,” Donna happily shared later.

Agriculturalists and craftspeople, the Ari people are the largest tribe in the Omo region and live in permanent villages across the vast highlands around Jinka.  Coffee and cardamom are grown as cash crops while subsistence crops of teff, wheat, barley, sorghum, maize, and a variety of root vegetables and false banana are grown for local markets and family use.  Working our way through the village we passed a basket maker who was creating a large woven reed granary.  Standing in the partially finished vessel, most of his body was obscured by its size. IMG_3879With sunlight shining through a canopy of giant enset leaves above her, a tribeswoman prepared kocho, a traditional Ethiopian flatbread, over an open smoky fire as we sat and watched. Behind us children giggled as they playfully rolled an old bicycle rim down the path.

The next morning, we headed to a local market in Jinka.  The city with a population of nearly 33,000 people has three permanent markets that are open daily.  Shops as well as street vendors offer everything imaginable to shoppers who come into town for the occasion. IMG_4033-2 There was a lively commotion of activity by the buses as porters brought over bundles to be tossed up onto the roofs and tied down before heading back to outlying villages. IMG_4149 Goats, cows and children were left to wander about freely while small piles of detritus burned slowly in the streets as vendors cleaned up at the end of the day. The earthy smell of dung and smoke lightly scented the air. It was chaotic.

There are continuing issues with tribal lands being seized for the expansion of the plantations along the Omo River, primarily the diversion of irrigation water from the Gibe lll dam to the plantations, which consequently ruins the livelihoods of tribes that practice ancient flood retreat farming downstream.  The international community is not sure how this situation will affect future tourism into the Omo Valley if it continues, but it is thought if the Mursi are denied access to their traditional farming area along the Omo River, they will not be able to survive without food aide to replace failed crops.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Omo Valley Part 2: Generation Poles and Dry Faucets

After getting some up-close shots of warthogs feeding on the lawn in front of our room, we loaded our bags into the Landcruiser and headed south to the Konso region with our guide and our driver. IMG_9593The highlands area is home to the Konso people who are renowned for their ringed hilltop villages, fortified with stone walls. They have developed terraced farming techniques to survive in a semi-arid, rock strewn and hilly territory for almost seven-hundred years.IMG_0083As we entered the town of Konso, bundles of candles miraculously appeared from under our guide’s seat and we stopped to donate them to a young man collecting offerings in front of his Ethiopian church.  This was the guide’s ritual when we changed territories and it continued throughout our trip. It was a common sight to see small groups of parishioners walking along the road holding up a picture of a beloved saint and umbrellas for shade.

The main street through town was lined with bustling shops. Their services and merchandise almost spilled into the street.  A rutted dirt field served as the bus depot and on the day we passed, a large crowd danced in undulating rhythm to see off newlyweds.  As remote as southern Ethiopia is, it has a rural minibus system that connects distant villages. The buses are always jammed full of folks, while their belongings are haphazardly tied to the roof.

The creative hand of man was clearly evident in the sculpted terracing we could see from the road leading to the Gamule Konso Cultural Village, a UNESCO World Heritage site.  Staple crops of barley and wheat are grown along with crops of maize, chickpeas, beans, yams, taro, turnips, coffee, tobacco and cotton.  The terracing tames a once inhospitable terrain into productive farmland.IMG_1769As we walked to the center of the village young children following us jumped from rock to rock, along the tops of the tall walls built to protect the village, as we made our way along the path below.

Set on a hilltop the village, called a paleta, is ringed with six concentric, high stone walls.  Each ring was added as the population of the village expanded downhill. Within these defensive walls are fenced family compounds with pens for a small number of animals and sturdy huts and granaries constructed of tree branches, adobe and thatch along with moringa trees, from which the foliage is an important and delicous food source. IMG_9817Each ring also has a community area called a mora; this is a large thatched roof structure with an open lower level and an enclosed upper platform where the married men and bachelors of the village sleep.IMG_9868 More importantly it provides a shaded meeting place where men play gebeta.  It’s considered the oldest board game in the world and is played simply with stones, beans or seeds being moved around holes in a board with the goal to capture as many of your opponent’s pieces as possible.  Each village is also divided into two zones and a man born in one zone must always have his homestead in that zone.IMG_9767The Konso also erect generation poles, called olahita, which are raised every eighteen years. The olahita are made of cedar trees taken from the kala, a sacred forest. Gamule village had eighteen olahita which dates the village to be nearly 400 hundred years old.  Sadly, the oldest central poles have succumbed to termite damage and rot over the centuries. The oldest village in the Konso region is Dokatu which has 43 olahita. Near the olahita was the village ceremonial daga, a large rock, that teenage boys lift over their heads to prove their manhood and eligibility for marriage.  The Konso also carve waka, grave makers, in rough likeness of the deceased.  These were originally placed at the grave sites in the sacred forest, but have now all been brought back into the village to deter looting.  Each village is surrounded by a dina, or grove of trees, which acts as a buffer between the village and agricultural terraces. This buffer of trees was meant to inhibit attack on the village and provide an area close to the settlement where folks could forage for firewood. There are 36 paletas, with populations ranging from 1,500 to 3,000 in each village, scattered across the Konso territory.

Nearby outside the Konso village of Gesergiyo there is a unique landscape nicknamed “New York.” It’s a dramatic red sandstone canyon, that looks like it was violently carved from the earth, with deeply scarred walls and tall pinnacles created from millennium of erosion. Legend says Waga the Konso Sky God created these as he searched for a buried sacred drum. IMG_9980We didn’t really see the NYC comparison, but the landscape was interesting in that it contrasted sharply from the surrounding terrain.  And the encompassing territory is beautiful with vistas of rolling hills.  Driving away a group of young men were perched on a lone boulder, just passing time.IMG_0064We arrived late in the afternoon to the Konso Korebta Lodge, situated high on a hill. It was a relatively new complex with attractive, circular stone huts topped with steep thatched roofs and beautiful plantings of bougainvillea.  Desperately needing showers, we were flummoxed when the tap was dry and headed to reception to see what was up. Unbeknownst to us it’s common practice at hotels throughout the countryside to only turn on the electricity and water between 6:00 – 9:00 in the morning and 6:30 – 10:00 in the evening to conserve resources.IMG_9245 Thankfully, the staff called the owner to get permission to start the generator early for us. Back seat driver that I am I thought our driver drove fast, safely but fast to cover the great distances we had to travel.  So, we were surprised the next afternoon when he was tootling along very slowly to get back to the hotel.  Evidently the hotel owner made it very clear to our guide that he would not turn on the generator early again.

Later we traced the aroma of barbeque to a small garden area where the staff was grilling goat skewered on small tree branches over a fire pit dug into the ground.  It was in preparation for a wedding party that was due to arrive.  With military timing it seemed, suddenly the parking area in front of the hotel’s restaurant was full of honking minibuses discharging joyous celebrants.  It was a short indoor-outdoor event that climaxed with song, dance and well wishes for the couple.IMG_2028Market days are huge events in the rural areas and folks from various tribes travel for miles to attend them. IMG_2314Not just to buy or trade supplies; it’s also a cherished opportunity for men and women to socialize with friends and extended family from other villages, often in raucous beer halls which could be in a makeshift shed or more often a spot under a large shade tree that serves a local brew.

Many folks look and dress their best as it’s also a chance to find a future husband or wife.  The Alduba market was exceptionally large, spanning both sides of the main road, and it attracted folks from the Ari, Bena, Hammer and Tsemay tribes. Recently the government constructed a bricked wall corral at the market to show tribespeople that the government was interested in their wellbeing and that local folks are actually part of a greater Ethiopia.  And at the same time it started to collect taxes on every head of cattle sold.IMG_1956We were able to take many candid photos as we followed our guide through the market to its various parts. Ceramic pots, handmade tools, ropes and leather goods produced by different tribespeople were available as were pots, pans, cloth and sandals produced in China.

One older woman shared with our guide that she was in her seventies and walked six miles to the market to replace a ceramic cooking bowl that had recently broken.  Often, we would stop and ask a person if we could take their picture.IMG_2117 Many folks were very receptive to this and our guide would negotiate a fee.  And even though we paid for the privilege to take their photo, they seemed pleased that we admired their style. A few, however, angrily waved us away.

Later in the day we headed to Jinka, the largest town in the region, slowly getting closer to the Omo Valley with every move.  Traveling through a xeric landscape, we had a long stretch of dirt road to ourselves.  IMG_1803Pulling over occasionally to take photos from scenic overlooks along this isolated track, we were always surprised when, in the middle of nowhere, a young man selling souvenirs would emerge from the shade. Later we would come across an enterprising group of young stilt walkers urging tourists to stop for photos – and of course we did.IMG_4431Entering Jinka, we noticed signage for the International Airport (BCO, though we are pretty sure you can only fly in from Addis Abba.) We might have arranged our trip differently if we had known this previously as it would have eliminated two eight-hour drives from and to the capital. Note: if you fly into Ethiopia on a ticketed Ethiopian Airways flight you are able to purchase discounted domestic flights .  Our guide booked this discount for our us on our Addis Abba to Lalibela flights.

The Orit Hotel offered very basic accommodation, but it had a wonderful garden restaurant, good food and cold beers.

The next day we would head into Mago National Park to visit the Mursi tribe.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

 

 

 

 

Ethiopian Adventure Part 1 – Elephant Huts and Singing Wells

Background:

Why Ethiopia?  After 14 months of continuous, slow travel, spent mostly exploring cities, we were ready for a change of pace and a more raw or “authentic” experience, for lack of a better phrase. We had planned to visit Ethiopia originally just to see the hand-hewn rock churches of Lalibela.  But, with a tough spousal negotiation, we reached détente: three months in the land of her people, Italy, and for me, 12 days bouncing on backroads and possibly camping a night or two in a tribal village, and a cross country adventure through the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and People’s Region which includes the Omo Valley. An exciting itinerary with Ephrem Girmachew of Southern Ethiopia Tours fit the bill and our budget.  I’m not sure who got the better deal, but somewhere along our journey we coined the phrase “shaken tourist syndrome” to reflect the road conditions we encountered for hours each day.  IMG_8498 The area in the northern part of the Greater Rift Valley, known today as the Omo Valley region of Ethiopia, has been at the crossroads of humankind for many millennia. In 1967 Dr. Leaky discovered fossil bone evidence, recently re-dated by scientists to be 195,000 years old, of early Homo sapiens near Kibish, Ethiopia, several miles west of the Omo River near where the borders of Sudan, Kenya and Ethiopia meet.  The first migrations of early man out of Africa occurred 60,000 years ago as they followed the Omo River north through the Great Rift Valley to the Red Sea. At its narrowest point, where it meets the Gulf of Aden, they crossed to continue their migration through Arabia and eventually into Europe and Asia.  The region was once rich with African wildlife, and Arab towns along the northern East African coast of Somalia and Kenyan were sending hunting parties into the interior for elephant ivory, rhino horn and unfortunately slaves since around AD 1000.

It is thought that the Mursi and Suri tribes developed lip plates and scarification as a way to discourage Arab slavers from taking their women. The first European contact with the region is credited to Antonio Fernandes, a Portuguese Jesuit missionary, who was sent by Ethiopian Emperor Susenyos in 1613 to find an inland route, that avoided all Islamic territories, to Malindi, a Portuguese port at the time, on the Indian Ocean.  The next reported western explorers to the region were Antonio Cecchi in the 1870’s and Vittorio Bottego in 1897. Bottego was the first European to follow the Omo River all the way to Lake Turkana, at a time when Italy was trying to become a colonial power and expand its Italian Eritrea territory into Ethiopia.  By the early 1900’s teams of cultural anthropologists from various Europeans countries were viewing the area as the “last frontier” and beginning to study the “cultural crossroads” aspect of the tribes of the Omo Valley.

A harsh, vast territory, the semi-arid Omo Valley is home to 13 indigenous groups that are seminomadic pastoralist. These tribes also practice flood retreat cultivation along the banks of the Omo River, to produce crops mostly for subsistence or occasional trading in the local markets.  Very remote and undeveloped, the area resisted Ethiopian Orthodox influence from the north of the country for centuries.  It wasn’t until the 1990’s, when a fledgling tourist industry began to emerge, and violent cross-border conflicts with various nomadic tribes looking for better grazing or to rustle cattle, that the government began to exert influence over the area.  Some nomadic tribes along the border were encouraged to settle down and farm and fish along the Omo River for their livelihood. Government interest in the area was intensified again when the decision to build two dams on the Gibe River, a tributary of the Omo River, were built to supply hydroelectric power to Ethiopia.  Later, the massisve Gibe lll dam, completed in 2016, was built to supply irrigation water to foreign owned sugar cane and cotton plantations on lands that were seized by the Ethiopian government from the indigenous tribes of the Omo Valley. Consequently, as the natural cycle of the river flooding was stopped, the centuries old practice of flood retreat farming is failing as there is not enough rainfall in the area to support crops. This has increased tensions amongst tribes already competing for limited grazing and fertile farming lands due to climate change. IMG_6730Things change, but the proud peoples that live in the Omo Valley are trying to retain their way of life amidst external influences they can’t control, as tourists and construction crews course across their territory.  Tempers flare when trucks and buses carrying supplies and workers to the agricultural plantations strike and kill cattle.  Drivers are required to stop and immediately pay the herder for his loss, but many never do.  Consequently, the local tribe will block the road and demand payment until the issue is resolved.

The Beginning:

It was immediately apparent as we were landing that Ethiopia was different. Addis Ababa is a thriving city of almost 5 million people, with gleaming skyscrapers, a new sprawling economic development zone, and high-speed rail line connecting the city to Djibouti. With no suburban transitional zone, the city was an island surrounded by an ocean of farmland. IMG_8308A good night’s sleep at the Jupiter International Hotel Bole (they have the best front desk staff we’ve encountered) made an early start bearable. Meeting us punctually, an amiable Ephrem introduced us to Gee and his trusty Toyota Landcruiser.  We could tell from the beginning that they were friends and had worked together for years.  Even before leaving the city limits, we met our first of the ubiquitous cattle herds, donkey carts and tuk-tuks slowing our passage.

Our first day would be the longest with over eight hours of driving to Arba Minch, that included a stop at the archaeological site of Tiya Stelae. Here a large field of stelae were adorned with carvings of spears; the number of spear heads on a stone is thought to represent the number of enemy killed. Other stones that dotted the landscape contained symbols that were more difficult to interpret. Nothing is really known about the people that created these monuments and there are no other sites in the area to help archeologists explain their mystery.

Further along, we stopped at an explosion of color and activity that represents an Ethiopian local market, our first of many. Coming from our last stop in parched Zimbabwe, this landscape was unexpectantly and refreshingly green.  We passed farmers plowing theirs fields with oxen, the way it has been done for centuries.IMG_6410 The 2019 rainy season was good; unfortunately, this is often not the case. There was no water infrastructure in most of the small towns and villages we passed through, forcing folks to gather water from local streams and rivers.IMG_8299 It was a constant sight: women carrying yellow water jugs along the side of the road back to their homes, or if they could afford it, having it delivered by donkey cart.  The terrain varied tremendously, with full rivers on one side of a mountain range and dry on the other side. These conditions forced people to dig into the riverbed in search of water.

Closer to Arba Minch workers piled just-cut bananas onto trucks, from plantations that lined the road.IMG_8266Since Ethiopia is close to the equator, the daylight hours do not vary seasonally.  The sun rises quickly in the morning and seems to drop from the sky at the end of the day.  By the time we reached the Paradise Lodge  in Arba Minch darkness was falling.  It was a long walk to our room, and signs along the path warned of baboons and warthogs.  A mosquito netted bed welcomed us under a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling.  A dramatic dawn the next morning through clearing storm clouds revealed the hotel’s placement on a cliff edge above a lush, dense forest that was part of Národní Park Nechisar that surrounds the perpetually brown Abaya Lake and Chamo Lake off in the distance below. IMG_9584At breakfast we watched thick-billed ravens in aerial combat as they rode the thermals just off the restaurant’s terrace.  Nearby a staff member stood ready to chase away baboons if they got too close to the customers’ tables.

After breakfast we headed into the highlands northwest of Arba Minch to visit the Gamo tribe in the Dorze village.  The Dorze, Doko and Ochello are the three clans that comprise the Gamo people. Rising slowly to an elevation of 8200ft, we traveled through heavily forested slopes that opened to patches of verdant farmland, and occasionally passed small groups of children dancing to earn spending money from passing tourists.IMG_9440 As we entered the village, compounds ringed with woven rattan walls held back tall Enset plants, better known as false banana, also called the “tree against hunger.” This plant is an important staple that is drought resistant and can be harvested year-round. Starch from the plant is scraped from its fibers and fermented in the ground for three months or longer and used to make kocho, a type of flat bread. IMG_9478Fibers from the plant are used to make rope or coffee bean bags, and the leaves are fed to farm animals.  We arrived on market day, and an entire hillside about the size of three football fields was covered with activity. From a distance it looked like an animated impressionistic painting, with undulating dots of color dancing under a blue sky. IMG_8996Sellers of charcoal, sugarcane, vegetables, and a multitude of other goods all had their wares spread out on cloths covering the ground.  Men played foosball or ping-pong under the few shade trees that ringed the field.

The Dorze are known for the family structures they build, called elephant huts, and the fine weavings that they create from the cotton they grow.  Constructed of hardwood poles, bamboo, thatch and enset, the huts get their name from the symmetrical vents at the top create a silhouette that resembles an elephant’s head. These towering huts can last eighty years, and when the bottom of the main poles become termite-infested they are cut off and the hut is then lifted up and moved to a different spot in the family compound.IMG_9211Men of the Dorze tribe traditionally do the weaving, while the women are responsible for spinning the cotton that the family grows and uses.   The colorful textiles they create are highly prized all over the country.IMG_9504-2Back in Arba Minch we stopped at the Lemlem restaurant for a lunch of local lake fish before checking out the crocodiles on Chamo Lake.  The lightly fried fish were served whole, while the sides were scored into squares which we picked off with our fingers. It was delicious.  Another side of the restaurant served freshly butchered, grilled meat.

The road south of Arba Minch cut through farmland.  Stately fish eagles and traditional Ethiopian honeybee hives dotted some of the trees along the road.  The elongated beehives are made from hollowed out logs and wrapped with woven bamboo strips, and then suspended in the trees.

It’s a dangerous livelihood, fishing the muddy waters of Chamo Lake, as attested to by the size of the Nile crocodile that swam alongside our tour boat.  He was frightfully as large as our 18ft vessel.  Crocodile hunting hasn’t been allowed in the lake since 1973, so there are many big old crocs in its waters. Every year fishermen are killed while standing in the lake casting their nets.  Those who can afford to, buy boats to fish.  Full immersion baptisms are performed by some churches in Chamo and Abaya Lakes, and tragically, in 2018 a Protestant pastor was snatched by a crocodile and killed in front of his congregation during a baptismal celebration.

“Tomorrow we drive to Kenya,” Ephrem offered. Really? That wasn’t expected! “We will stop before we actually get to the border to see a Singing Well of the Borena tribe, and then head to Chew Bet, an extinct volcanic crater lake where the tribe takes black salt from its water.”IMG_8449“Sorry for the late pick-up, but the road was full of tuk-tuks carrying families to the university stadium up the street for a graduation ceremony,” Ephrem offered as he bundled us into the Land Cruiser and handed us large bottles of water. “It’s hot where we are going today.”

Crossing a small mountain range as we headed south from Arba Minch, we left the green landscape behind us and descended into a semi-arid savanna of acacia trees and thorn scrub that held ostrich and huge termite mounds. Soon we encountered our first herd of camels being prodded along by young herders. In Yebelo we stopped to pick-up a local Borena guide who accompanied us for the rest of the day.  Now speeding toward the border, we passed isolated huts and folks seemingly in the middle of nowhere walking to unseen destinations.  We abruptly u-turned when our guide spotted the dirt track we needed to follow to the tula, a centuries-old deep well that continues to be dug deeper into the ground as the water table drops.IMG_0474We trailed a young Borena girl herding a small group of cattle down a slowly inclined, dusty trench deeper into the earth. It was impossible to avoid cow patties as we steered clear of an exiting herd.  Thirty feet below the surface, the trench ended in a bowl shape with a water trough where cattle were drinking.  Rhythmic voices emerged from a shallow cave behind the trough.  Climbing worn stone steps, we came to a narrow landing above the trough, where below us men sang to set a pace to their work. (Click the preceding link to see the video.) They lifted heavy buckets of water over their heads to others above them who then dumped the water into the trough for the cattle to drink.  The acoustics of the cave increased the sound of their songs.

This was the wide, higher part of the well. At the back of the cave there was a hole, only as wide as a man with a bucket, that descended straight down another sixty feet into the earth where more tribesmen worked in unison to lift water up from the bottom of the shaft.  Every day for centuries, teams of men have worked in thirteen tulas spread across the Borena territory to keep the tribe’s cattle alive in a harsh land where there is very little surface water.IMG_0884Imagine one of the most inhospitable places on earth and you might envision the village of Soda, located on the rim of the mile wide El Sod crater.  Aside from raising cattle, goats and camels, some Borena tribesmen have given up their pastoral life to dive into the depths of the El Sod Crater Lake to collect salt, which is then dried and traded or sold across southern Ethiopia from Somalia to Sudan and down into Kenya. It takes the salt divers an hour to descend the narrow track to the lake surface, 1100 ft below the crater’s rim. After scraping 50lbs of wet salt from the lake bottom, they bag it and load it on donkeys for the 1.5 hour walk out of the crater, only to turn around and do it again as many times a day as they can. Black and white salt along with crystals are gathered in the lake. Crystal salt is the most valuable, and black salt, used for animals, is the least.

Each diver works for himself and it is a tragically difficult livelihood. Many of the divers suffering from loss of hearing and sense of smell, tooth decay, eczema and blindness from spending years in the highly concentrated, corrosive salt water.  No eye protection is worn and nose and ear plugs are rudimentarily, made from plastic bags stuffed with dirt. At the crater rim the salt is sold to middlemen who dry it in slatted wooden shacks before reselling it. Trucks have now replaced legendary camel caravans which once crisscrossed the savanna to remote villages.

After lunch and our first Ethiopian coffee ceremony, we headed to the Yabelo Wildlife Sanctuary, a 1600 square mile grassland preserve that is mostly home to Grevy’s and Burchell’s zebra.  Walking with our local scout, we were able to slowly approach a small herd of zebra.  Some of the females were heavy with calves soon to be born.IMG_1161A short drive away, our last stop of the day was a well-kept Borena village surrounded by an ochre landscape under a perfect blue sky.  Women do the heavy lifting in the villages, building the huts, tending children and crops, and spending a substantial amount of time foraging for firewood and gathering water from far off sources. While the men spend their days moving their cattle across different grazing lands.IMG_1234Women rule their homes and determine who can enter, even prohibiting spouses.  “If her husband comes back and finds another man’s spear stuck into the ground outside her house, he cannot go in,” our guide conveyed.

Away from the village as we headed back to Arba Minch we spotted both Grant’s and giraffe-necked Gerenuk gazelles.  The latter rises on its hind legs to feed on higher vegetation.

Old ways are changing as the Ethiopian government shows more interest in the south, and while Animism is still practiced, Christianity and Islam are making inroads into the region.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

 

 

 

 

Botswana and Zimbabwe: Chobe National Park & Victoria Falls

We were fortunate to be in Cape Town when the drought broke, the hills were greening, and the reservoirs were filling again.  The Western Cape and the city were vastly interesting and stunningly beautiful and should be a destination on everyone’s radar.  But after three months of slow, immersive travel it was time to move on.  After greatly enjoying our first safari at Schotia Game Reserve, just watching Donna’s joy viewing the wild animals was priceless for me, we decided to head to Chobe National Park in northern Botswana and Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe to continue our adventure.IMG_9149Flying over the Northern Cape, we watched from the window of the jet as the fresh greens of the Western Cape slowly faded to the reddish sands of the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, that straddles the border with Botswana.  From the air it looked like a flat, dry, desolate landscape broken by faded veins – forgotten dirt tracks to who knows where.  Further into Botswana the vast whiteness of the Makgadikgadi Pans National Park intensely reflected the sun as the park’s 2400 square miles of salt pan stretched to the horizon below. The area was once the immense Lake Makgadikgadi, that covered an area almost the size of Switzerland, but dried up more than 10,000 years ago.IMG_4923While the Cape Town region had fortunately recovered, Zimbabwe was still suffering from its worst multi-year drought in 40 years and the countryside looked tinder dry, as if it would erupt into a massive mushroom cloud if you breathed too hard on it.  As a result of the severe water shortage, electricity was being rationed due to insufficient water levels to run the turbines at the hydroelectric dams along the Zambezi River.IMG_4794At the Zimbabwe Airport, the queue for visas to get into the country was very jammed and moved slowly. We were in the middle of the pack, surrounded by organized tour groups so we felt our progress would proceed smoothly. It did not. The delay was extensive and twice I had to skirt security and walk past the border control booths to the baggage claim area to check that our luggage was still there. (It was lucky that I did, as our bags had been gathered into those of a large group tour and we nearly lost them.) But somehow, while we waited in line, it was as if we had grounded a boat on an unseen rock, and we ended up as the last couple entering the country at passport control. Everyone else had managed to sail past us. We were finally about to get our passports stamped when the power failed and the computers went down!  And to top it off we had to ask the border control officer to return the change due us from purchasing the visas.IMG_4154Our mood was restored by the warm greeting we received from Fungayi, our guide for the next three days and the owner of Afro Honeyguide Adventures. “Does it usually take that long for folks to get through passport control?” “No, that’s the longest I’ve ever had to wait. I was beginning to think something might have happened. Let’s not delay any longer – it’s time for that cruise on the Zambezi River.” And off we went.IMG_4025The Zambezi River starts high in the mountains of northern Zambia near where the borders of Angola, the Congo and Zambia converge, and is the fourth longest river in Africa at 1600 miles. It flows south then east for hundreds of miles as the natural border between Zimbabwe and Zambia.  Thundering over Victoria Falls, its waters eventually flow through Mozambique and empty into the Indian Ocean. It’s a vital life source for people and animals of the region.

A steep boarding ramp emphasized the river’s low level and led down to a variety of vessels, from replicas of Humphrey Bogart’s African Queen to mini cruise ships. We were the last to board a medium size pontoon boat before it cast off.

In stark contrast with the dry landscape we passed on the way from the airport, the banks of the Zambezi were lush with verdant brush and trees. It was a dense screen that shielded the animals from our prying eyes unless they were right on the riverbank. Though elephants were elusive, herds of hippos ruled the afternoon. On shore they protected their young and displayed their hierarchy with dusty charges and bellowing growls, groans, and grunts. In the river, turbulent pools of hippo testosterone battled for dominance with wide gaping jaws amidst violent sprays of water. More menacing was coming upon a submerged hippo with just its eyes and nostrils showing, the bulk of its tonnage hidden below the surface. They are in fact Africa’s deadliest land mammal, killing over 500 people each year.  A few crocs and numerous bird sightings rounded out a satisfying afternoon.IMG_4168As tranquil as our water safari was, the river was surprisingly busy with activity, but so well-spaced it didn’t infringe upon our enjoyment of the afternoon.  As the sun set, our captain skillfully positioned our boat to capture the last light of the day.IMG_4269After a long day of travel and sightseeing it was finally time to check into the Nguni Lodge, a pretty 14 room boutique hotel, in a private compound on the outskirts of Victoria Falls.  “See you in the morning; we’re headed to the falls tomorrow,” Fungayi said as he waved good night to us.

As we were exploring the property the next morning, the gardener enthustically beckoned us over to look at a plant, the branches of which he was separating to reveal a camouflaged chameleon that blended in perfectly with the leafy background.IMG_4338Victoria Falls was originally named by the indigenous tribes of the region, who called it Mosi-oa-Tunya or “The Smoke that Thunders.” The mile wide and 355 feet high falls have been one of the Seven Wonders of the World since British explorer David Livingstone stumbled upon them in 1855 as he was trying to elude that pesky reporter Stanley, and of course he claimed their discovery and renamed them as imperialists did.IMG_4620“When the river is full you can’t see the falls across the gorge. It’s just a thundering cloud of mist. It’s much better for photos this way,”our guide offered, trying to put a good spin on a dire situation as he pointed across the gorge toward Zambia.  If you are not convinced of climate change, witnessing firsthand the dramatic reduction of water flowing over the falls might change your mind.

Even with a reduced volume of water, the fascinating trail along the edge of the gorge traveled through a unique, jungle-like, misty microclimate that offered shaded sanctuary to small animals.  Two hundred yards further inland the landscape was dry as a bone.IMG_4859-3With an unscheduled afternoon ahead of us Fungayi suggested we lunch at the Victoria Falls Safari Lodge. “They have a vulture feeding program and a wild game watering hole visible from their terrace.”  We never realized that vultures were endangered, but as with so many other threatened animals in Africa, the problem originated with poaching. As conservation efforts improved and anti-poaching ranger patrols increased, poachers stopped shooting elephants and rhinos. Instead they started to poison waterholes or the carcasses of an animal they had killed so that the vultures would die also and not reveal their activity in an area by circling over a dead elephant. Vultures play an important role in the ecosystem by picking clean the rotting meat from animal carcasses. Their stomach acids destroy rabies, botulinum toxins and anthrax, which could kill other animals or spread to humans. Poaching is still a huge problem in Africa and until all levels of the people involved in this illicit trade start doing some serious jail time, it always will be. China and Vietnam are the chief destinations for all sorts of endangered animal horns and parts, where they are used in traditional medicine remedies. Carved rhino horn is even considered a good investment by some wealthy Asian businessmen. And to muddy their blind-eye support of this poaching even farther, in October, 2018, China reversed a ban on rhino and tiger parts in medicine.  You might find these two articles by the New York Times and Scientific American informative.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/29/world/asia/china-rhino-tiger-poaching.html

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/extinction-countdown/shock-as-china-legalizes-medicinal-trade-in-rhino-horns-and-tiger-parts/

I know this is difficult, but if we are sincere conservationists, we need to talk with our money and avoid buying products made in China.IMG_4842The “Big Tree,” perhaps Zimbabwe’s oldest Baobab tree at an estimated 2000 years, was on the route to our lunch spot. This majestic Baobab was truly impressive with a girth of 74ft and 80ft height.  Perfectly adapted for the drought prone savannahs of Africa, the trees drop their leaves during dry periods.IMG_4995The view from the hotel’s shaded terrace looked out over the watering hole and beyond it across an expanse of the Zambezi National Park that stretched to the Botswana border many miles away. In a year with average rains the trees would have been thick with foliage. Instead the landscape looked burnt, like it had been ravaged by a recent uncontrollable forest fire. We watched as small groups of cape buffalo and zebra kicked up clouds of yellow dust as they trudged their way towards the water, avoiding the resident crocodile that bathed in the heat of the afternoon sun. Occasionally the buffalo would turn and charge the zebras away if they felt they their space was being encroached upon.IMG_5094We spent our last day in Botswana on a game drive and river safari in Chobe National Park. Fungayi picked us up early for our transfer into Botswana at the Kasane border crossing. Here we had to pay a Zimbabwe exit fee, then travel a short distance through a buffer zone between the two countries and walk through a tray of disinfectant, to prevent the transmission of hoof and mouth disease to cattle in Botswana, before finally purchasing an entrance visa to a country we have long wanted to visit since reading the The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency novels by Alexander McCall Smith. His love for the country is visible in every page and character. Here a local licensed guide gathered four more tourists and bundled us into a Land Rover that later broke down as we were entering Chobe. This situation was quickly remedied though with the delivery of a Toyota safari truck. According to African safari guides, the Land Rovers enjoy an undeserved reputation as a safari vehicle; Toyota trucks are much more reliable.

Chobe is reputed to have the highest concentration of elephants in Africa and during the Botswana dry season, June to October, large herds of elephants migrate from the park’s vast interior to the banks of the Chobe River for water and food.  Buffalo and antelope herds also follow this ritual which makes game viewing along the river extremely rewarding. We were not disappointed.  Within minutes of leaving the park entrance we traveled down a dusty sidetrack and encountered impala and kudu working their way down to the river. Along its grassy banks, herds of antelope grazed peacefully and, in the distance, Nambia shimmered through the heat waves rising from the earth.IMG_5591The bird life along the water was interesting too with sightings of regal fish eagles, kingfishers and wonderful rainbow plumed lilac-breasted rollers.

Further along clouds of dust in the brush signaled a large buffalo herd moving toward the river. Later upon reaching the water the herd would swim across to the islands in the middle of the Chobe River to feed on the lush green grasses.IMG_5200We hadn’t spotted any elephants yet, so we turned into the forest to look for them.  Here we encountered several small elephant family groups, all following their matriarchs in search of food. IMG_5572On the way out of the park, heading to our river safari, we viewed giraffe and more antelope.

After lunch, our intrepid group boarded a small boat for the water safari on the Chobe River.  IMG_6331Viewing wildlife from the water offered a different perspective on the animal life. Gape-mouthed hippos and crocodile sightings were frequent now.

Some elephants were gathered on the riverbank waiting for the right moment to swim across to the islands, following others that had crossed earlier. IMG_5996The black coats of the buffalo were now glistening in the sun. Unfortunately, we didn’t witness any herds swimming across to the islands, but there were distinctive water lines on the elephants that had forded earlier.

African darters, yellow-billed storks, grey herons and great white egrets searched the waters for fish.  Along the shore an eerie-looking monitor lizard crawled along in search of bird nests and their eggs.

On the way back, we passed floating houseboat style hotels that offer multi-day excursions that follow the river further upstream to more isolated sections along the Botswana – Nambia border. IMG_6280Surprisingly, there was even a border control station on the riverbank to monitor the movement of people and commerce on the waterway between the two countries.  It was a rewarding afternoon with Donna definitely being in her element.  And those riverboat hotels got us thinking about potential future trips.IMG_6183So many things change yet many things stay the same.

We now have jet travel, cell phones, and the internet, and yet many places in Africa have barely changed at all, with folks still walking many miles each day to gather water and forage for firewood.  And malaria, as it was in Livingstone’s time, is still a deadly disease.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Cape Town Part 5: Celebrating Bastille Day & A Whale of a Good Time

Relatively low car rental fees in South Africa encouraged us to travel farther afield. There is so much to do in the area around Cape Town, driving along a spectacular coast or heading inland into the western cape’s vast winelands, with about 300 vineyards, that starts near Stellenbosch, just 31 miles away via the N2.IMG_5808We planned a long weekend to celebrate Bastille Day in Franschhoek, a wine making community founded by French Huguenots in the 17th century.  French roots aside, the village is full of Cape Dutch architecture and set in a valley surrounded by the Drakenstein and Groot Drakenstein mountain ranges.  The lower slopes provide the vineyards in the valley with unique terroirs.  Afterwards we ventured down to Hermanus on the coast to look for whales.IMG_5799But first we had to get there.  Just before our exit off the N2, the silhouettes of several tall sailing ships broke the horizon as if they were crossing an inland sea.  Imagining a pirate swinging from a yardarm, we did a quick double take and followed a side road down to the entrance of Cape Town Film Studios, where a guard waved us away when we stopped to take pictures. They’ve hosted many international productions that include Doctor Who, Tomb Raider, Outlander and Mad Max Fury Road.IMG_5953-2Across the street from the movie studio, our wine tasting started at Vergenoegd Löw The Wine Estate. The vineyard is known for its biodiversity, sustainability and conservation efforts.  It uses a flock of 1200 Indian Runner Ducks to cruise the undergrowth of the grape vines and devour snails and other pests that can destroy the harvest.   Three times a day, wranglers gather the flock and parade it through the beautiful estate for the amusement of visitors.  Of course, there are wine tastings and food available to encourage you to linger and enjoy the setting.  It was our first of several visits; the place was just delightful.

Our travel mantra is usually “walk a little, then café, walk a little more, then café.”  This changes to “drive a little, café, pitstop” when it’s a road trip.  And staying true to our philosophy, we stopped at the Root 44 Market just before Stellenbosch, for a quick look.  This is one of the weekend markets with live music, food and craft vendors that have become so popular in the region.  We had the most sinful donuts from Desire Donuts.  These truly would have become addictive if they were closer to home.

Driving through Stellenbosch we came across a large bronze sculpture of a giant octopus outside the studio/gallery of Stephen Rautenbach.  It’s a nice gallery space filled with pieces that capture the spirit of the South African animals he’s sculpted.

Around the corner we enjoyed some homemade Turkish delight and Turkish coffee before continuing our drive to our B&B for two nights, Val d’Or Estate in Franschhoek. A long dirt driveway led to a pretty, naturally landscaped property with a large pond and swimming pool overlooked by the guesthouse.IMG_6113 Our room was spacious and comfortable, bigger than several studio apartments we have rented.  We spent a little time walking around the pond, watching the weaver birds dart in and out of their hanging nests, before the sunset.

The next morning, we passed an enormous amount of red, white and blue bunting festooning every building on either side of the street as we headed to the festival grounds at the Huguenot Monument on the far end of the village. IMG_6236We followed  the queue of beret wearing Francophiles draped in colors of the flag, past a vintage car show and a very competitive barrel rolling contest, to the Food & Wine Marquee, where our tickets included a live concert by South African rocker Karen Zoid, two very nice wine glasses, tasting coupons and R20 vouchers to use towards the purchase of food or bottles of wine.

Thirty vineyards poured generous samples of their white, red, and rose wines along with champagne.  The crowd sang along when Karen Zoid took the stage and performed a collection of her South African hits and La Marseillaise, the French national anthem, for a nostalgic audience.  She also paid tribute to rocker Johnny Clegg, who passed away earlier in July.  He was the first Afrikaner singer during the apartheid era to form a band with a black man, Sipho Mchunu, called Juluka. They were hugely successful and beloved by many. It was a lot of fun sampling the wines and purchasing bottles of our favorites to enjoy in Cape Town later.

We had planned to follow R45 east through the rugged terrain of Mont Rochelle Nature Reserve to Bot River and continue on the R43 south into Hermanus, but a winter rock slide had indefinitely blocked the road and forced us to backtrack through Stellenbosch.IMG_8081Luck was with us when we pulled into the Sir Lowry’s Pass View Point, in time to see several paragliders launch from the steep slope of the overlook.  The view toward the town of Strand, on False Bay, with its long sandy crescent of beach, was incredible. Further on fruit orchards lined both sides of the road for as far as we could see. The valley’s unique climate, cooler and wetter than the surrounding region, is perfect for the local orchards to blossom.  Today the Elgin region produces 65% of South Africa’s export crop of deciduous fruits.IMG_8211We were working our way to the Elgin Railway Market, another beloved Saturday/Sunday venue for Cape families, in the “Valley of Apples.” Appropriately it’s housed in a renovated railway warehouse where the region’s famous fruits were stored before being loaded onto trains and sent to Cape Town or Port Elizabeth for export.  It’s a huge, two story space, with wine, food and craft vendors, a performance stage and rock-climbing wall.  IMG_7397Located directly across the street from the ocean, the Windsor Hotel would be our base for the next two nights.  It’s a modest old hotel, built originally as a sanatorium in 1896, then converted to a hotel in 1931.  It still retains much of its original character with fireplaces in the wood paneled common areas, arched doorways and wide staircases.  The breakfast room was outstanding with large picture windows facing the sea.IMG_8278Walker Bay’s thunderous waves crashing against the rocky coastline were spectacular with their large sprays as we walked along the Hermanus’ Cliffside Path to Gearing’s Point, a scenic overlook, hoping to spot whales.  Our Cape Town friends had mentioned that it’s often possible to sight Southern Right Whales from the shore here during their June to November calving season, after which they head back to the waters of Antarctica.IMG_8496 It’s a well-defined trail, with cement, dirt and boardwalk sections, that starts at the village’s New Harbor and hugs the coast for 7.5 miles, ending at the Klein River Estuary. Five miles of the path are wheelchair accessible.  In some places it passes under trees twisted to grow almost parallel to the ground, by the fierce South Atlantic winds that blow in from Antarctica.

In the off-season not everything is open and we had to search awhile before finding Oskars Bakery, two blocks in from the ocean on High Street, for coffee.  But with one glance at the pastry case we were hooked.  We both agree it had to be one of the best bakeries in the western cape.  IMG_7587The seascapes from the cliffside path were beautiful, but we hadn’t spotted any whales and the village’s whale crier wasn’t sounding his kelp horn.  Yep, what started as a publicity stunt has become tradition and Hermanus has had an official, and the world’s only, whale crier since 1992.  IMG_7474In 2016 the movie The Whale Caller was adapted from South African author Zake Mda’s 2005 novel, of the same name, which has the whale crier as the central character.

Hoping for better luck, we booked a whale watching excursion operating out of the village’s new harbor.  There are a number of tour operators that run excursions out of this port, but we liked the look of the Unathi, a 50ft catamaran, that Hermanus Whale Watchers uses.  IMG_6899With skipper Emile at the helm, the first mate tossed the mooring lines to the dock and we departed onto a gently rolling sea.  Phillip, a registered naturalist with a delightful wry sense of humor shared his love of the sea with us.  “There’s a good chance we’ll see Southern Rights today. We spot them by their distinctive V-shaped blow and the callosities (clusters of barnacle like growths) on their heads.  We may also see Africa Penguins, Fur Seals, Dolphins, migrating Humpback Whales and resident Bryde’s Whales.”  Psyched now, all eyes scanned the horizon for any telltale signs of these gigantic, yet elusive creatures.

Blows were spotted, yet the whales had dived to a greater depth before we got closer.  We eventually encountered a small pod just off-shore at Die Plaat beach, a ten mile stretch of wild, rocky and sandy beach, backed by tall dunes. The captain skillfully maneuvered us as close to the beach as possible as we followed the pod of Southern Rights, that sometimes surfaced close enough to hear the puff of their blows.  We were thrilled, but a little disappointed also, that there wasn’t any tail slapping or breaching.  Back ashore we had a wonderful lunch of fried calamari and fresh oysters at a little place on the wharf, the Quayside Cabin.IMG_7976Heading back to Cape Town late the next day, we followed the scenic R44 coastal road through the seaside villages of Kleinmond, Betty’s Bay, Pringle Bay and Rooi-Els as the golden hour was approaching.  IMG_7703Each turn of the road offered a dramatic view of the coast and we stopped many times for photos.  We merged back onto the R2 at Gordons Bay just after sunset for the ride the rest of the way back to the city.IMG_7762

So many regions of the Western Cape are stunningly beautiful!

Till next time, Craig & Donna

 

 

The Garden Route Part 2: Great Waves, Crocodiles and Ronnie’s

We hadn’t planned our return itinerary to Cape Town and were open to suggestions.  Over the past two days, during the down time between game drives at Schotia Private Game Reserve our guide, Edward, shared his love of South Africa with us.  “Did you stop at Stormsriver?” “No.” “It’s a breathtaking stretch of coast. They have cabins you can rent, right on the water, and there’s a spectacular trail with suspension bridges across the gorge.”  “And the Karoo, don’t forget the Karoo and Ronnie’s.” IMG_0095During the morning “golden hour” we watched a family of giraffe walk gracefully through the forest, nibbling thorns from the acacia trees, before saying our goodbyes.  Stormsriver, it was!  Backtracking through Port Elizabeth we retraced our drive past Jeffreys Bay and continued west on the N2 until we stopped to photograph the steep chasm that the Stormsriver Bridge spanned, just before the village of the same name. Mostly folks mean the Tsitsikamma National Park when they mention Stormsriver; they are synonymous with each other, the difference being the village is located far inland, just off the highway, and the park is on the coast. IMG_2188We thought the entrance fee of $17.00 per person for international tourists was steep and we did see some cars turning away, but we had heard such tremendous recommendations we would regret it if we didn’t check it out.  There was a long winding road down from the entrance gate and when we finally rounded a sharp corner, the view of the rugged coastline with crashing waves sending up large white sprays was spectacular! IMG_2176We enjoyed lunch watching and listening to thunderous waves explode against rocks only a short distance away from our table at the Cattle Baron.  It’s the only restaurant in the park and was excellent, along with being very affordable.  A nice surprise after the park entrance fee. IMG_1809After lunch we followed an easy section of the Otter Trail to the three suspension bridges that cross Stormsriver where it meets the sea.  Reservations and a permit are required to trek the full length of this popular and strenuous 28 mile trail that follows the edge of the coastal plateau through evergreen forests, traverses boulder strewn beaches and tidal river crossings. IMG_1977Staying in designated cabins each night, it takes five days to cover the route that stretches from Stormsriver in the Eastern Cape to Nature’s Valley in the Western Cape.  The reverse hike is referred to as the Tsitsikamma Trail.

We were greeted warmly by Bev and Marco, owners of At The Woods Guest House Tsitsikamma in the village.  Their place is a lovingly envisioned and restored eight room B&B in what had been a carpentry workshop.  At check-in Bev noticed that the clasp to the shoulder strap on Donna’s camera bag was broken and offered to repair it.  A huge help, the repair has lasted eight months so far.  We greatly appreciated it.  We walked around the corner to Darnell Street, the village’s restaurant row, with six eateries, and sat down at Marilyn’s 60’s Diner. The place is shrine to Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe with movie posters, classic cars, motorcycles, juke boxes, checkered floor and chrome, lots of chrome as décor.  Happy Days meets Northern Exposure, it seemed to be a clash of cultures in the woods.

The next morning we enjoyed coffee on our balcony while listening to new bird calls and hoping to spot Narina Trogan, Knysna Turaco (Loerie) and Victorin’s Warblers which inhabit this heavily forested area. IMG_2247After breakfast, on our way to Nature’s Valley, we crossed over the Bloukans River Bridge, which claims to be the world’s highest bungee jump at 710ft and divides the western cape from eastern cape region.  The small resort village is right on the Indian Ocean and borders the Grootrivier lagoon, which is blocked from reaching the ocean by a wide sandbar.  The two waters only merge when a hide tide washes over the sand, or when heavy rains raise the level of the river and it cuts a channel through the sand to the sea.IMG_2289On the way back to the highway we stopped at Nature’s Way Farm Stall for coffee and a snack before continuing or drive to Oudtshoorn in the Klein Karoo.  Located on a working dairy farm, the stand had a wonderful selection of homemade cheeses, breads, jams and chutneys – we stocked up. They also have cottages available for rent.

Passing through Plettenberg Bay we stopped at the Old Nick Village to check out their mid-week farmers market and the homeware textiles created on site at Mungo Mill, a local South African company that reinvests 1% of its profit back into community projects.  There was also an interesting plant nursery and pottery shop with vervet monkeys scampering across their roofs.  IMG_2356Our steep ascent away from the coast began in George as we headed north on the N9/N12 twisting our way uphill through the Outeniqua Pass to Oudtshoorn. This is a challenging stretch of highway with continuous s-turns that required my constant attention.  Passengers can enjoy spectacular views on sunny days that stretch for miles.  If possible, drive the route towards the coast, it’s easier to stop at the scenic lookouts this way.

One thing about traveling in the off-season, things are quieter, especially on the late Sunday afternoon when entered Oudtshoorn, looking for dinner before we checked into our B&B for the night.  It wouldn’t have surprised us to see tumbleweed blowing down the streets.  It was too cold outside to sit by the open firepit in the courtyard of La Dolce Vita, one of the few places we found open. But the staff was friendly, the food was good, and the bartender had a sweet dog to help him keep the conversations going with the ladies. IMG_7085We’ve heard of gold booms, where fortunes were made.  But it was the ostrich booms in 1865 -1885 and 1902-1913 when ostrich feathers were the ultimate fashion accessory in Europe that enriched local farmers here.  At one point 314,000 ostriches were being raised and their feathers were a valuable South African export, only surpassed by gold, diamonds and wool.

Today Oudtshoorn attracts outdoor enthusiasts, with the Cango Marathon endurance race and the “To Hell and Back” mountain bike race. Wine and cultural events like the Klein Karoo Nasionale Kunstefees (KKNK) a visual and performing arts festival also dot the high season calendar. The region is on the R62 Wine Route and becoming increasingly known for its port style fortified wines and brandies produced from grapes that thrive in the arid conditions of the karoo.  Ostriches are still raised in the area for their meat and leather.  IMG_2417Die Fonteine, our B&B for the night, was a few miles north of Oudtshoorn, outside the small village of Schoemanshoek.  After a delicous breakfast the next morning we enjoyed exploring the manicured grounds of this beautiful farmette. Caged song birds, chickens and sheep provided our morning entertainment. Anzue, our hostess, gave us a jar of homemade guava jam for our journey back to Cape Town, after we raved about it at breakfast.  “How are you headed back? “Through Montagu.” “It’s a long stretch through the karoo, not much between towns, just Ronnie’s.”

Leaving town, we hammed it up with a jaws of death photo at the Cango Wildlife Ranch. It’s South Africa’s version of a petting zoo, where you can go cage diving with crocodiles for an adrenaline rush, if that’s your thing.IMG_2423The word karoo comes from the Khoisan language meaning “land of thirst” and it precisely describes the terrain along R62 which we followed.  Parched, rock encrusted rolling hills and mountains covered with a fynbos of low heather-like shrubs and proteas occasionally accentuated by taller, lone trees and dry riverbeds crisscrossed the landscape. During the South African spring, in October, it bursts with flowers, but it was July, still winter.  The area endures extreme heat during the summer.  Fortunately for us recent winter rains had spurred some greenery to burst forth and aloe plants to bloom. IMG_2540We stopped in Ladismith, a rural farming community where Vincent, Donna’s friend from seminary, first pastored a church, and enjoyed its colonial Dutch architecture.

Watch for Stray Cattle and Wild Animal Crossing Ahead signs occasionally broke the rhythm of the terrain.  Every few miles now we would pass old battered signs for Ronnie’s.  Somewhere along the way they turned into signs for Ronnie’s Sex Shop! IMG_2683The heat can do strange things to the mind and sometime in the 1970’s Ronnie thought a farm stand on this desolate stretch of highway through the karoo would be a good idea.  Fortunately, his buddies realized it was destined for failure and would soon be another abandoned building along the road if something wasn’t done.  One night they painted SEX into the name of the shop and suggested he open a bar.  They saved his butt!  Famous now worldwide as a dive bar in the middle of nowhere, it draws in the curious.  It’s not the raunchy place the name implies, filled with frustrated farmers between ostrich roundups.  A grey bearded Ronnie, now a cause célèbre, still pours drinks at the bar. It has a tired, dusty bar area filled with foreign money plastered to the walls and lingerie hanging from the ceiling, but aside from that it’s a wholesome oasis with a covered patio where you can get a decent burger with fries, ice cream and coffee along with some hard stuff if that’s your drink.  It’s not worth a detour, but if you are on the R62 traveling between Barrydale and Ladismith, it’s worth the stop.  Actually, it’s the only place to stop.

For some R62 conjures up thoughts of Jack Kerouac and his road trip across America from Chicago to Los Angeles along Rt 66 through the heartland of the country.  Similarly, R62 connects Port Elizabeth, on the Indian Ocean, to Cape Town, on the South Atlantic, while passing through the beautiful karoo region, the core of South Africa.  An epic journey for many of the folks in camper vans and cross-country motorcyclists we passed along the way.  It’s an interesting, inland alternative to the N2.IMG_2516We zoomed past the small village of Barrydale on our way to Montagu, so we could explore the town a little before nightfall.  The farming community is in a valley surrounded by the Langeberg mountain range and has many examples of late 19th century Cape Dutch architecture scattered about town.   Ornate gables, thatched roofs, whitewashed walls and occasionally gingerbread trim define the style, but there are modern interpretations also.IMG_2889In a country not known for Art Deco we booked ourselves into the Montagu Country Hotel, the only original Art Deco hotel in South Africa. In the main building, lounges with fireplaces and guest rooms are filled with stylish Art Deco antiques.  Contrarily, we stayed in their African lodge – after all, this is Africa – which was situated nicely in a lush garden. It was circular structure with a 20ft high thatched roof that had all the conveniences of home.  The bathroom had the largest soaking tub we have ever seen that easily could have held a family of four. We wondered when the last time it was filled.  Guilt about wasting water, during a drought, prevented us from using it.IMG_6089The temperature drops quickly in the mountains once the sun sets so we enjoyed a local wine, in front of a fireplace, in one of the lounges before dinner.  We usually look for a less expensive alternative for dinner, but the hotels’ Wild Apricot Restaurant drew us in with elegant candlelit tables and live piano music.  It was the last night of our road trip – we could splurge.  With Smoked Ostrich Carpaccio and Springbok Tarta for appetizers followed by Cape Malay Bobotie and Karoo Lamb Pie as mains and a traditional Orange Malva Pudding for dessert, we were splendidly sated.

Cruising around the village before heading back to Cape Town, we found some interesting examples of colonial Cape Dutch architecture and a small suspension footbridge over the Kogsmankloofrivier. Water rushes over the road below it when the river runs high.  IMG_3126We followed R62 west through a small tunnel, locally referred to as the “Hole in the Wall,” that was dynamited out in the 1870’s. It’s a dramatic landmark that tells you of your arrival into or departure from the Karoo.  As we left our road trip behind, we looked forward to heading to a new apartment in Cape Town.

Till next time, Craig & Donna