The Tanzanian Experience: Part 2 - Kilimanjaro

With my former climbing companion out-of-commission thanks to a now spineless sea urchin, I began my solo trek towards Kilimanjaro, in hopes of summiting the 19,340ft “roof of Africa.”

After my initial tour group fell through due to overall sketchiness (i.e. being asked to pay $800 in cash to a man I had never met, who knew nothing about my hike, but had an office in an abandoned building under a DIFFERENT name than the company I had originally put my deposit down with), I was on the prowl again. Thanks to a man named Jacob who followed me for about two miles along the road, eventually persuading me back to his office, I soon had found a nice German couple with which to complete my climb. However, after a conveniently timed “African Death Cold” had its way with me, bed ridding me for almost 48 straight hours (not very fun when traveling solo, with no TV and only German books to read), I was forced to delay the start of my hike, and once again find new companions with which to climb.

Three days later, with my body in recovery mode, I commenced my hike, traveling alongside 3 fellow Americans: Two mid-20 guys from Seattle, and a 37-year old, ex-peace corp volunteer from Atlanta (a nice improvement upon playing 3rd wheel to the German couple).


The Crew:
Joining myself, and the three other Americans, were the following:

Guides – John and John – The nicknames of Rasta John and Little John were distributed quite soon after our arrival to restcamp the first night, as the wafts of “wacky tobaccy” exuding from Rasta John’s tent were more than prevalent throughout our 6 days on the mountain. Little John’s nickname was less “inspired,” although still well deserved.

Chef – Chinga – Although his name translates to sex in Spanish, this did not limit Chinga’s ability to cook up some mean meals for us each and everyday. Surprisingly enough, the food was quite amazing, as our entire group decided that we ate better while on the mountain than at any other point in our lives over the past few years (at least when the mountain wasn’t killing our appetites).

Porters – Although we never caught any of their names (as most did not speak any English), we did sympathize for the 9 porters, who worked on minimal salary to carry up our equipment (including tents, sleeping bags, dinner table & chairs, and of course the 20 pound kerosene tank). Nonetheless, they were all very friendly, and even gave us a nice farewell on our final day on the mountain:

Kili Video


The Route: Machame (aka “Whiskey Route”) – 6 Days, ~ 60 Miles

Day 1: Base Camp (4,900ft) -> Machame Camp (9,800ft) – 11mi

Day 2: Machame Camp (9,800ft) -> Shira Camp (12,600ft) – 6mi

Day 3: Shira Camp (12,600ft) -> Lava Tower (15,200ft) -> Barranco Camp (13,000ft) – 9mi

Day 4: Barranco Camp (13,000ft) -> Barafu Camp (14,900ft) – 8mi

Day 5 (Summit Night): Barafu Camp (14,900ft) -> Uhuru Peak (19,340ft) -> Mweka Camp (10,200ft) – 4mi ascent, 14mi descent

Day 6: Mweka Camp (10,200ft) -> Mweka Gate (6,500ft) – 9mi


Daily Routine:

7:00AM – Wake up

7:30AM – Eat breakfast (Toast, Eggs, Sausage, Fruit, Hot Chocolate)

8:00AM – Commence our day of about 6-7 hours of hiking. In order to “conserve energy” and acclimatize as much as possible, the majority of our hikes involve walking VERY VERY slowly (“pole pole”), to the point where a pause is taken between each step in our climb. Although the Machame Route was supposedly the most scenic, the first 3 days of our hike were spent climbing through foggy wetlands, as the rain/clouds decided not to cease whatsoever. Thus, the only view we really had of anything was of the two feet in front of us. Stunning!

12:00PM – Rest for lunch (packed bag of chicken, cheese sandwich, a biscuit, cookies and a sour green orange – and of course all-you-can-drink hot chocolate)

2:00PM – Arrive at our restcamp

2:30PM – “Snack Time” – Involves sitting in our little dining tent, drinking hot chocolate (yeah, we were slightly addicted) and talking about what ailments were taking their toll on our bodies that day

3:00PM – Nap, play cards, read, walk around restcamp chatting with other hikers (~ 20 of us total on the route), attempt to dry out clothes which are usually soaked by the end of each day, and of course attempt to convince your body that there is good reasoning for putting it through this experience

5:30PM – Dinner (Mushroom/Cucumber soup, Beef/Chicken stew, Rice & Vegetables, Pasta, Mango desert) – OR – Clif Bar (when appetite is nonexistent)

7:00PM – Sunset

7:01PM – Ummm… what now? No lights + no electricity = forced early bedtime

11:00PM – Wake up for the 1st time in the middle of night, either due to cold, an annoying need to “relieve oneself,” or more cold. Repeat this every 30-45 minutes until sunrise. Good times!


Budget Hike Highlight:
After arriving to camp the 1st night, I soon learned that the porters had completely forgot to pack me a tent OR sleeping bag, thus forcing me to share a tent with Snorey McSnorester from the peace corp, and sleep in a old sleeping bag that didn’t zip close, and smelt like it had been shared by an entire hockey team after a 5 hour practice. Hello freezing smelly nights! It was quite a relief when I did receive my new tent on the 3rd night (which of course did not zip close, and left enough room at its mouth for the freezing air to pour into my humble abode each and everynight). Thus, when I was not battling the freezing air of the mountain evenings, I was also trying to fend away little mice which kept deciding to crawl up my leg during naps… Cute little scary fellers.


Overall Highlight of the Hike:
On the 2nd night, after about 2 hours of blessed sleep, I was awoken at about 11pm by a general feeling of death. Although we were not at an altitude yet to induce severe altitude sickness, I soon learned that water poisoning was coursing through my body (thanks to some sketchy Zanzibar bottled water – aka tap water resealed in a bottle). Thus, my new best friend was soon to be the hole in the ground known as our toilet (see picture below). The next two days are more or less spent battling severe dehydration by drinking ungodly amounts of hot, boiled water (the only safe water to drink), attempting to consume “rehydration salts” (tasted like tangy ocean water), and of course forcing myself to eat whatever I can handle as my appetite had been reduced to zero. Man this is fun! Luckily this only lasts for almost the entire hike (somewhat subsided by summit night). : /


Summit Night:
Commencing our summit attempt at approximately 11:30pm (after about 3 hours of sleep), I spent the next 6 hours climbing through the airless, freezing night with my only focus on the two feet in front of me. Fighting every urge in my body to either pass out, fall over from dizziness, or throw up (as random waves of nausea came every 10 minutes), the hike was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life. It was even a struggle to try not to cough, as this act was more exhausting than the hike itself (never realized how much air you waste when you cough…). Nevertheless, at 5:20AM, we made it to the top! First group up (a new record according to our guides). From the summit, we enjoyed the early morning sunrise over the horizon, took some pictures (although the majority did not come out so well since it was still quite dark), before beginning Part Two of the “day from hell” – the hike down (basically 3 straight hours of jogging back down the mountain along loose rocks and gravel, 2 hours of light rest, and then ANOTHER 3 hours of jogging down the mountain even further). After another 3 hours of jogging down the mountain on our final day, we were at the bottom, and had successful climbed the tallest mountain in Africa! Goodbye functional legs, hello permanent limp!


Overall, despite the random setbacks here and here, the hike was still an amazing experience, and I’m thrilled I was able to do it. Although our final celebration dinner was slightly tainted after our two guides threatened the lives of one another (due to the fact that that our main guide – “Rasta John” – had been stealing tips from the rest of the group), the trip was still a success. After another funfilled day of Tanzanian travel (in which I missed my shuttle to the airport, lost my cell phone, and almost was shot at the Kenyan border for taking a picture of an ‘unwilling participant’), I arrived back in Cape Town, to bask in the joys of true African civilization.

Onto the pics:

	View of "Kili" from the foothills of Moshi
	Hiking... seemed to be quite a common trend during our 6 days on the mountain
	Enjoying some fine hot chocolate during one of our breaks
	My humble abode -- notice my tents inability to close itself properly, thus causing me to utilize MacGeyver techniques to cover up the hole as much as possible
	"The Mess Hall" -- an eating facility turned porter sleeping tent at night
	The "facilities" -- hopefully a therapist can help me forgot the horrible memories which stemmed from my time within these walls
	Our group - 2 guides, 9 porters and 1 chef
	At the top with the two guides: Rasta John and Little John
	Early sunrise over the glaciers on the mountain
	View over the clouds
	Celebration Dinner with Little John (post awkward death threat experience)

The Tanzanian Experience: Part 1 – Zanzibar

Mambo!

After an amazing adventure through the friendly nation of Tanzania, I have officially returned to Cape Town, and can commence in filling you all into the details of my life. Given the length of my trip (18 days in total), I have decided to split up the two main parts of my trip into two separate blogs. Thus, karibu/welcome to Part 1 – Zanzibar.

Arriving into Dar Es Salaam, the Baghdad-esque capital of Tanzania, I joined two of my fellow companions for my journey, one Mr. Stephen Black and one Mr. Stephen Suarez. After a lovely evening at the Econolodge in Dar (a ridiculously expensive $8/night) and a well-cooked meal of chicken (which had previously been laid out on the floor of the restaurant to collect as many diseases as possible), we departed the next day for the warm sands of Zanzibar. Utilizing the means of a ferryboat, we were joined on our 2 hour ride by about 1,000 baby chickens and the Tanzanian National Soccer team (a great combo, if you have never tried it).

Although one incident stands out much more than the rest during our trip (to be told briefly), my experience in Zanzibar can be summarized as follows:

- Transport: I don’t think I have ever utilized so many different forms of transportation in my life. Mini buses (aka dalla dalla’s), taxis, enclosed pick-up trucks, construction vehicles (hitchhiking skills required for these). All packed so full of people that a 3-seat row somehow manages to fit 7 fully grown adults, 3 children, their bags and whatever else can be thrown on top (I was crossing my fingers for rainbow sprinkles). Let’s just say comfort was the name of the game here.

- Beaches/Water: If the pictures below don’t do Zanzibar justice, I do not know what does. While the water varies from about 80-90 degrees (depending on where on the island you reside), it is crystal clear blue all around, and even goes out for a mile at low tide (leaving abandoned boats and seaweed farms in its absence). Thus, if you pick the right time, you can wade out almost a mile in 1-2 foot deep water (just avoid the dark spots – more on this later).

- The People: Known for their hospitality, and overall friendliness, the people of Tanzania/Zanzibar were by far the nicest I have come across in my travels. Although there was the occasional beggar (who even was quite nice), and the 4-5 “companions” who would follow you anywhere in the city, in hopes of obtaining some sort of commission from your final destination (i.e. hotel, ferry, restaurant), for the most part, the locals were great. And when my Wazunga (aka whitey) ass spoke Swahili to them, the smiles just came in waves. Pole ni kazi!

- Activities: When not figuring out our means of transport around the island, or fighting to the death to save 500 shillings (~$0.50) off our hotel stay, pretty much all to do was lay on hammocks, soak in the African sun, eat freshly caught fish, and of course drink away at the appropriately named alcoholic beverages (e.g. Safari, Kilimanjaro). More or less, our 5 days on Zanzibar were perfectly uneventful. Until...

- The “Dark Spots”: Although conveniently 'unmentioned' by the hotel staff in fears of ruining the pristine image of Zanzibar, we soon learned that the ‘dark spots’ in the water not only contain poisonous sea urchins, but that stepping on one with full force can pretty much take anyone out of commission for a week. Thus experienced by Mr. Stephen Black, who while going for a Frisbee, managed to implant half of a now spineless sea urchin into his foot, and thus rendered himself crippled. Lesson learned = If the water is dark, it is not a good place for your foot to park (yeah, I know, I'm very talented at rhyming).

Given Steve's injury, and a conveniently-timed “African death cold” to top off his ailments, I soon learned that the remaining 12 days of my journey would be spent alone, as illness and crippledom were not good combos utilized to climb Kilimanjaro (which Steve and I had initially planned on doing). Thus, after a farewell goodbye to the Steve’s, I was off to Moshi, at the foothills of Kilimanjaro, to officially commence my first solo traveling experience through the unknown lands of Tanzania. With almost two weeks left in my trip, I had one goal in my mind: Summit the 19,340ft peak of Mt. Kilimanjaro…

Did I make it? Will I summit Kilimanjaro? Did 'Kili' have its way with me? Only time will tell (aka, until I write the next section of this blog). While I could give the easy answer now, I prefer to add some suspense. Duh duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Thus, until next time.

Onto the pics:

	Random boat on the beach of Zanzibar
	I can't really tell if the water is blue? Maybe just a tad...
	Low Tide... donde esta el agua?
	One of our many humble abodes during our time on Zanzibar -- Fan + Mosquito Net = Luxury
	Post Sea Urchin surgery
	Hanging out with the "Stephanos" (aka Motley Crue and Fidel Castro)
	A Colobus Monkey
	"Family Portrait" - Enjoying some beverages after our tasty "floor chicken"

Cape Town - Week 11 - 12

After almost a 3 month period overseas, with extremely limited access to the world of American culture (besides the occasional attempt by my flatmate to state “I’m gonna sue you!” in the worst Southern accent ever), I decided to bring a little bit of the US to South Africa, and host a Thanksgiving dinner. With approximately 15 South Africans attending the celebration of an event that I could not truly explain without the help of Wikipedia, I was the only one with any knowledge of what food comprised our evening meal. And given the fact that the only item I had ever placed in an oven was a California Pizza Kitchen Barbeque & Chicken Pizza (best pizza in the world by the way), cooking was most likely going to be quite an experience. To summarize:

8AM: Wake up

8:30AM: Really wake up (gotta love that snooze button)

8:45AM: Ok, honestly have to get up. Back up alarm just went off…

9:00AM – 12:00PM: Thaw the 16.8 pound turkey (biggest turkey in all of Cape Town as we visited almost 6 stores in our search for it) – Given that no bowl or apparatus in our flat was large enough to hold an entire turkey covered in cold water, we resorted to MacGyver techniques, utilizing over-sized plastic bags filled with water, hanging from the faucet bearings of our sink to keep the turkey immersed. 7 water changes and 8 plastic bags later (as seemingly every plastic bag in our entire house seemed to have some sort of leak), our turkey was defrosted, and ready to be “probed.”

12:00PM – 1:00PM: Pry and prod every hole and cavity of the turkey, in an attempt to remove giblets and neck, neither of which I had ever seen before (more on this later).

1:00PM – 3:00PM: Watch my new favorite straight-to-DVD movie: “Staring at a Turkey: The Special Behind the Scenes Making Of.”

3:01PM: Have a mild panic attack as our turkey, which should be cooking for about 4-5 hours, seems to be already done after a mere 2 hours (4 hours before anyone is set to arrive). After a reassuring Skype call to my mother, who informs me that our meat thermometer is actually in the bone of the turkey, we soon realize our turkey is as done as the roadkill on the street outside.

3:05PM – 6:00PM: Baste, rebaste, foil, refoil, baste, baste, check temp, baste, baste, foil, foil, defoil, foil, baste, check temp, recheck temp, make sure to recheck the checked temp, foil, defoil, baste… done!

6:00PM – 7:00PM: With a complete turkey off to one side, attempt to throw together as many of your patented thanksgiving menu items as possible: Stuffing, Mashed Potatoes, Cranberry Sauce (the most expensive item on our menu, as cranberries do not exist in Africa). As I commence in cooking these items (AKA following premade recipes verbatim), Kevin cuts the turkey, with great frustration – “where is the f*cking wishbone damnit!!... wait, is this the neck? Hahaha, you idiot. You left the entire neck in the turkey!” (the 12-inch neck did not resemble much of the 2-inch gob of crap we originally thought was what supported this once thriving turkeys head)

7:30PM: First guests arrive, 30 minutes late, but perfectly on time by Cape Town standards

9:00PM: Last guest arrives. Still on time somehow because they said they would “be there now now.”

Given that our meal was most likely the unhealthiest Thanksgiving ever (almost a pound of butter was used in the process), it was by far the most delicious, as the turkey was literally falling off of the bones, and oozing with juices. And although we all expected a 4:30AM visit to the hospital for food poisoning, such an occurrence did not… occur (too lazy to thesaurus that one). And yes, if you are interested, I will be cooking turkeys for hire starting next November if an amazing, heart-attack inducing meal, intrigues you.

Aside from Thanksgiving, the other exciting news in my life is the news of the future (and no, don't worry, I haven't found my African queen yet). In approximately 1 day, I will be departing for Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, to partake in a 16-day adventure across several African countries. Meeting up with two friends from high school & college (Steve Black & Steve Suarez), we will be spending one night in the city of Dar, only to depart the next day to enjoy 6 sunsoaked days on the beaches of Zanzibar. After our departure from Zanzibar, and our farewell to Mr. Suarez, Mr. Black and I (this is stating to sound a bit like Reservoir Dogs), will embark on one of the greatest experiences known to the African traveler: Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro.

A hike that takes you up to the 19,340 ft (5,845m) glacier-covered peaks of the mountain, we will spend 6 days, hiking through rain forests, barren wasteland, and of course freezing temperatures, in our attempt to summit the tallest freestanding mountain in the world. I imagine our journey will be quite a breeze, especially since my training regimen has been comprised of two 10-minute walks on the treadmill (cut short due to boredom and slight exhaustion). After a hopefully successful climb, we will spend the next few days in Kenya, before I depart back to South Africa. Nevertheless, blogs on hold for a few weeks, as I don't think wireless comes in too well at the top of Kili.

Onto this weeks lesson:

“Learn me something something about South Africa.”

This Week's Topic: Malaria Drugs

Similar to the worst flu you’ve ever had in your life, x 10, the effects of Malaria are just slightly worse than the drugs utilized to prevent it. With millions of prescription drugs lining the shelves of pharmacies, only three drugs encompass the potential to prevent Malaria (best to worst):

1. Malarone – Effective. Limited side-effects. Cost = $10/pill (given my trip to malaria country is 16 days long, and you take the pill for about +/- a week before/after, I’ll have to pass on forking over $200 for some pills).

2. Mefloquin – Effective. Cheap. Side effects include inability to think. Yes, to think. Hallucination-induced dreams also have been known to accompany this drug, although its main effect (which I experienced the last time in Africa) is the destruction of every brain cell in your body. It’s like taking your mental state after a period of 48 hours with no sleep, and stretching that out over the course of 5-6 weeks (since the pill is continued 4 weeks after leaving the Malaria region). And then of course there is the feeling of having just drank burning acid after each pill is digested. We may have a winner here...

3. Doxycylcine – Effective. Cheap. Recreates Malaria through its side effects. No thanks

Although it was a tough decision as to which drug to take to prevent Malaria, Mefloquin won the race. Thus, if my next blog makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, then I think you have your reasoning...


Onto the pics...

	Hanging out with the fattest turkey in Africa
	Gobble Gobble
	Kevin searching for the "bloody wishbone"
	The aftermath of our feast
	Beach Party at Tiger Tiger -- setting up shop on the dance floor with our towels, umbrella, coozies (sp?) and of course cooler of ice to hold the 2 for 1 beers
	Virtual Tornado in action
	no comment required

Cape Town - Weeks 9 - 10

Is it sad that I have been spending hours on end thinking of how to approach this blog? In a period of 14 days, where more has occurred than in the 2 months in which I have been in South Africa, the only way to recap the past few weeks in less-than-novel-length is not an easy task. Nevertheless, here goes nothing.

My first visitor arrived into Cape Town last Saturday, and thus threw me into a weeks worth of travel, adventure and stories galore. With all of South Africa within arms reach, we managed to pack in as many activities as possible:

- Visiting the Cape Town Markets: A few good hours spent bargaining African-made items from prices as high as R300 down to R50 – “Oh man, that’s too expensive. Didn’t want to spend that much. How much do I want to spend? Hmmm… I don’t know… I really only got 50 rand on me (which of course had been previously removed from my wallet and put in a separate pocket). 150? No man, sorry. Only got 50. 100? No, 50. 90? No, 50. 80? 50. 70? 50. 60? 50. 55? 50. Ok, 50. Thanks man.”

- Partaking on an African Safari: Although the 3 hour drive commenced with approximately negative animals within sight, and resembled more of a golf cart drive through the zoo, we did manage to get a taste of the African wild, seeing everything from Lions, Giraffe, Zebra, Buffalo, Rhino and Elephants, to Donkeys that apparently were pregnant with Zebra offspring = Zonkey – and no, I’m not even joking.

- Climbing Table Mountain: A 5-hour hike that seemingly lasted forever, we climbed a vertical height of 3,500 ft in less than 2 hours, only to spend the next 3 hours walking across a barren, foggy and windy wasteland, frightingly similar to a scene from “The Neverending Story.” And at the end, our only reward for the arduous journey was to end up in the clouds of Table Mountain, unable to see much of anything from our vantage point at the absolutely freezing and windy top. Good times!

- Driving through the Garden Route: An area known as one of the most beautiful in the world, our drive through the Garden Route was comprised of approximately 1500KM of driving, one ride upon the back of an ostrich in Outdshoorn (no trip to Africa is complete without this adventure), ziplining through the trees of the Tsitsikamma National Park, and about 45 minutes at the beach in Plettenberg Bay (as this was all the time we had left to fit in for some good sun-soaking action). Oh yes, and of course a visit to the true southernmost point of Africa (after learning that Cape Point is not the actual southernmost point, although any Cape Tonian will tell you it is).

- Beach, Bars and Bites: As to avoid a stop-til-you-drop itinerary, I made sure we had plenty of time to explore the various clubs, windy beaches, and of course a sampling of just some of the many various foods of Africa.

After managing a 7-hour drive back from the Garden Route, I awoke the next day, only to begin another full-day of activities, as I had officially been enrolled in “The Amazing Race – Return of the Legend.” Similar to a scavenger or photo hunt, the Amazing Race involved running around Cape Town and the Cape Peninsula, attempting to complete as many clues as possible, in the shortest amount of time. With activities ranging anywhere from jumping into a fountain to kayaking in the Indian Ocean, our day was made that much more entertaining as our team was dressed in the theme of “African Maids.” Unfortunately, our outfits did not last long, in-turn, enabling us to win the R200 prize of “Most Naked Team.” While we unfortunately placed 2nd overall in the race, our competition was fierce, ranging from 8 girls running around in mini-skirts (1st place team), to the 1978 South African Badminton Team (best dressed) to the Elvis Impersonators. And although I would love to share photos from the day, the majority of pictures are “blog-censored-material,” as nudity earned your team extra points for each activity performed (e.g. Ride on top of a lion statue = Ride on top of a lion statue… naked).

And FINALLY, I would like to add the exciting news that I have been rehired (and soon to be refired) from the Cape Times! After a surprising invite to a dinner commemorating the departure of five future winemakers of Cape Town, myself and Katie attended a VIP dinner in which the head of the Department of Agriculture spoke about the future of South Africa’s wine industry (it’s safe to say that we felt a bit out of place). And although the picture of three of the “sommeliers” came out quite nice, I later realized I needed all five in the picture, and unfortunately was unable to obtain a “viable” photo of them all. Thus, despite the picture below being published in the paper, it unfortunately was not what was expected…

Due to the length of this weeks blog, I decided to exclude the “Learn Me Something Something About Africa” section, to prevent the inevitable case of "blog boredom."

Onto the pics...

	On top of Table Mountain - You can tell how warm it is up there
	Elephants!
	Ziplining in the Tsitsikamma National Park
	Male and Female Bob the Builders
	Picturesque view along the Garden Route
	Southernmost point of Africa - Where the freezing cold Atlantic Ocean meets the just-a-tad-above-freezing Indian Ocean -- It is almost guaranteed that you legs will go numb within 5 minutes of being in the water
	Guillllllllll (my old Swiss roommate) was in-town for a few nights
	Gaming some Ostriches
	Katie and I along the Garden Route
	Cape Times shoot - The guys did an amazing job of trying to look as natural as possible in a less than natural surrounding (random wine shop in a hotel lobby)
	The Amazing Race - Team Domestic

Cape Town - Week 8

Oh man, where to start this week. Unfortunately, my week excluded any photo shoots for the Cape Times (somehow managed to screw that one up pretty well), flights on a Gyrocopter, or even a Rugby World Cup Final match to watch (although there was the celebration parade this Monday morning -- thus the reason for my delay in posting the blog til now as I was a bit low on blog-worthy pics).

Anyhoo, I was quite happy to commence my week with a Monday night out at Mercury. Referred to in a previous blog, Mercury is the equivalent of an 80s/90s rock bar, playing every single classic rock song from Green Day – “When I Come Around” to Bon Jovi – “It's My Life.” With a crowd that exudes non-stop energy, Mercury has officially become my favorite night out of the week (despite the pre-teeny crowd it tends to draw in). However, this week… well this week was quite different. I’m not sure to whom the memo was sent out, although I did not receive any such notification of the “rainbow-filled” night which was celebrated this past Monday. Now, by no means am I at all homophobic. I am quite supportive of anyone’s right to choose with whom they wish to be with. However, when my favorite night out turns into an evening of half-naked men prancing around the bar, smacking eachother on their asses, and waving their shirts wildly in the air, well… lets just say it was hard to establish a level of comfort in such surroundings. And when the patented 2am mosh pit turned into more of an orgy, I decided it was time to call it quits, have my nightly Boerevors (the most amazing bratwurst equivalent in the world), and hit the sack.

Aside from a night of exploring the unique sexual behavior patterns of South Africa’s gay male population, I did manage to make my first trip to Stellenbosch, the wine capital of South Africa. Equivalent to Napa or Sonoma Valley in the amazing number of wine farms in the area, Stellenbosch also boasts approximately 17,000 college students, making it one of the rare college/vineyard towns in the world. In a night full of amazing highlights, the greatest involved running into my 1st American since my arrival here (yes, it’s been 8 weeks and I had yet to meet an American up to this point). While initially I thought the hippyish Californian was messing with me, and attempting to mock my American accent (which stands out here as much as an elephant would in the middle of Central Park), I soon realized that I was face-to-face with the literal definition of a “surfer dude.” Sporting the amazingly popular name of Mark, my new American friend was visiting SA to see his “boera-girl” (aka, Afrikaans girlfriend), and was just as happy to meet a fellow “yank.” After a brief conversation regarding what brought each of us halfway across the world to a country rarely travelled to by USers, we parted ways, only to run into eachother approximately 5 hours later at another “beverage-serving institution.”

After a great night out that brought back memories of roaming around South U during a U of M summer (Jim/Grace, hopefully you aren’t the only two that can relate to this one), my next day in Stellenbosch involved visiting one of the most famous vineyards in the area - Spiers. Promoting an atmosphere that resembled more of a recycled jungle-gym thrown into the midst of an African village, I was quite honored when provided the opportunity to teach the local bartenders my favorite morning concoction – a Mimosa. Although I originally received a full glass of champagne, and a completely separate jug (yes, jug) of orange juice, I managed to describe in detail, how to create this delicious AM delight. And although I received a look of "why the hell would you ever drink that," I was still happy that I could bring a little bit of America all the way over here to Africa.

Onto this weeks lesson:

“Learn me something something about South Africa.”

This Week's Topic: The Rules of Driving

While mentioned quite frequently in past blogs, driving in South Africa tends to be one of the most interesting and nerve-racking experiences. With all the opportunity in the world to enforce the well-established rules of driving which we follow back home, South Africans take any opportunity to avoid such rules, and drive as lawlessly as possible. Below is just a sample of some of the common driving “techniques” found throughout this country:

- Driving in one’s own lane is unacceptable. You must only drive in the middle of two lanes, in the lane of opposing traffic, or on the sidewalk

- When driving distances greater than 20 meters, the only acceptable way of driving is to floor the accelerator until needing to slam on the brakes. Coasting or steady acceleration/decleration are completely prohibited

- You may only hoot (aka “honk”) your horn if you are 110% sure that this action will not cause your life to be in dire danger

- Driving unknowingly through a red light is quite easy, as traffic lights, instead of being properly placed over intersections, are instead hidden off to the side of the road, usually behind trees, bushes, or even street signs placed conveniently in front of them

- Instead of deer running across the highway, the next closest (and more common) obstacle are people, darting across lanes without any worry of being struck by an oncoming vehicle. A common technique utilized is to pretend to run, hesitate, and then dash across the road only once the driver has removed their foot from the brake after the initial "false attempt"

- Mini-bus taxis do not need to obey any rules. While all they worry about is finding their next passenger, you must constantly worry about avoiding them, as they will cross 4 lanes of traffic (even those in the opposite direction) to pick up an awaiting traveler -- thus, the goal here is to do anything in your power to avoiding driving next to, nearby, in front of, or behind one (this is quite impossible as they are literally everywhere)

- Pedestrians never have the right of the way. Even if the crosswalk says walk, and all lights are red, you must only cross at your own expense. No exceptions.

In following such rules, I was quite proud when my first vehicle-related accident did not involve any of the aforementioned dangers. Instead, I found myself in a frightingly Seinfeldish scene, whereby a pigeon refused to move out of the way of my vehicle, as I attempted to park at a gas station, causing me to unknowingly drive into a wall at 2KM/hr in an attempt to avoid it. While quite terrified that the crunching noise coming from the front of my car was a dead pigeon beneath my tire, I instead was quite relieved when determining that the noise instead was my bumper running into the 2 foot wall in front of me. Damnit.

Onto the pics...

	I gotta include a classic night shot out -- Me and the "boys" out and about
	Promoting some African face paint at the "jungle gym" vineyard. Don't ask why the lady felt I needed puppy paw prints on my face instead of an actual African design...
	Young little Bokke supporter
	Mom, I know she's not Jewish, but we're in love...
	Our sign depicting a Springbok "mounting" an English Bulldog was definitely a hit with the team
	Brian Habana -- quite possibly one of the fastest athletes in the world -- hoisting the World Cup Championship trophy (he loved our sign too)
	Long Street during the parade -- a "hectic" scene depicting the fact that not one person in all of Cape Town went to work today...

Cape Town - Week 7

Bokkkkkkkkkkkkkkke!! Bokkkkkkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! If you did not happen to catch the match on Saturday, as most likely a replay of blind monkeys playing poker was being shown on ESPN the Ocho instead, the South Africa Springboks are officially the 2007 Rugby World Cup Champions! In an intense match made up of only football-equivalent field goals, South Africa defeated England 15-6, and thus secured their 2nd ever rugby world cup title. Although I have only been a fan of the sport of rugby for less than 6 weeks, last night was quite possibly one of the greatest spectator moments of my life. Watching the match at a local bar in Cape Town, I, alongside of about 300 wildly frenzied fans, cheered on the Springboks throughout 80 minutes of intense rugby action. And when the clock finally ran out, and the championship was in the hands of South Africa, absolute mayhem broke out (video is on facebook if you are interested). Singing and cheering. Hugging and dancing. Honking of car horns as less than sober fans took to the streets, waving flags from their vehicles. You’d be hard pressed to find one not-completely-elated person in this entire country Saturday night (probably a different story the next morning as the post-game hangover kicked in). I cannot even imagine what it was like for my flatmate Kevin, who booked a flight to actually go see the game in Paris literally 3 days before (with of course no ticket to the game, no visa, or place to stay, at the time of the purchase of his $1,200 flight – now that’s dedication).

Aside from the festivities related to the rugby championship, the rest of my week was quite possibly the most eventful/uneventful week thus far. While no photo shoots occurred for the Cape Times (as I have momentarily been fired from my volunteer job until I submit a more “news-worthy” portfolio), I did manage to get in some amazing shots from my mothers 1st cousins (yes, another never-met-you-before-but-somehow-we’re-related relatives) gyrocopter. If the picture below does not do justice to this airworthy vehicle, it is like a mini helicopter, although you sit completely out in the open. No roof above your head. No walls to the side to keep you from plummeting thousands of feet below. Only a trusty seatbelt, and of course a nice little bug-shield to protect you from swallowing one of those damn malaria-infected mosquitoes.

Flying approximately 1,000 – 2,000 ft in the air, we traveled at about 100 MPH all over the city of Cape Town. Across the Atlantic Ocean, witnessing a mother and baby whale swimming alongside one another. Over secluded sand dunes, located in the remotest parts of the city limits. Even a few hundred feet above the shoreline, passing over the heads of dozens of pointing beach goers, watching our ridiculous aircraft pass by, just above their reach. I will let the pictures below tell the rest of the story, but it was truly an amazing experience. My favorite part of the entire journey was the point at which the following was stated to me over the radio, just before a 2,000 ft free fall to within a few dozen feet of the ocean below: “Now Mark, don’t worry. I’m just going to kill the engine for a bit so we can coast down closer to the water a bit faster.” With one crash already under his belt, I was more than happy that my 2nd cousin did not add to that tally with me in the back seat.

Well, that’s about it actually.

Onto this weeks lesson:

“Learn me something something about South Africa.”

This Week's Topic: The Cape Doctor

Every summer, from about November to February, a wind as fierce as any hurricane, arrives into Cape Town and literally just blows and blows and blows. Now, this is no oh-my-god-it-was-windy-yesterday type of wind. It is everyday. Nonstop. With a few breaks here and there, but more or less, a constant blowing of gods wrath (pick whichever one you want/believe in).

Reaching speeds of up to 100 MPH as the wind whips over Table Mountain (creating an amazing “tablecloth” cloud over the mountain), the Cape Doctor, also known as the “South Easter,” can blow consistently at speeds of 50 MPH all day long. All. Day. Long. For the most part, everyone seems used to it, although obviously there are negatives to such a wind. For instance, certain beaches are completely off limits, as the blowing sand is worse than being lost in a Sahara dust-storm. And of course driving with two hands is an essential, as a strong gust can literally throw you off the road (especially when driving the “Green Monster” -- aka Lucy the Lawn Mower)

Of course then, why is it called the “Cape Doctor?” Well, to quote half the South Africans to which I have talked about this subject: “See that shit over there (pointing to the hazy smog on the horizon). It takes all that shit and gets it the f*ck out of here.” Thus, the wind literally picks up ALL the pollution and smog and blows it away, leaving the air as crisp and clean as a Colorado mountain morning. Thus, the Cape Doctor -- of which I have only experienced the “mild” version, which was still strong enough to shake my entire friends flat.

Onto the pics... (no clue why the captions were cut off...)

	Flying high in the Gyrocopter
	The Gyrocopter itself -- for those "Neverending Story" diehards, this could quite possibly be the greatest designed machine in the world
	Mother and baby whale swimming in the Atlantic
	View of Cape Town from up above
	Some random sand dunes literally in the middle of nowhere
	Showing off my USA/SA pride -- yes, I know, I'm quite creative
	South Africa vs England -- the ultimate battle of body-painted fans vs oldskies with curvy teeth
	Bokkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!