Planes, Trains, and Automobiles: one girl's quest to see the world

Safari Time

christina_wallace — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 20:10:00 GMT

This will likely be the last entry of my trip, since I fly out to London tomorrow, and onward to New York on Friday. Don’t be too sad, readers! I’m already plotting my next big adventure and believe me: it is going to be spectacular.

I just said goodbye to the HBS group as we wrapped up three days of safari drives through Serengeti National Park and the Ngorogoro crater. They are continuing on for one more day, but I have a flight to catch since my dear friends Sarah and Paolo are getting married on Saturday at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens! It was a bit sad to leave everyone, but after three days of game drives and all-you-can-eat buffets, I’m starting to feel a bit soft around the waist. I got buff on Kili, and I don’t want to lose that just yet! Time to get moving again!

After our first shower in a week last Sunday, we piled in Land Cruisers and drove out into the wild on Monday morning. Monday and Tuesday were spent in the Serengeti, were we spotted herds of zebras, lazy leopards, migrating wildebeasts, and a host of other animals. The dirt roads were bumpy (though better than many I’ve been on during my month in Africa) and we sometimes drove long periods without sighting any animals, but ultimately we found four of the big five (which are officially: lions, leopards, buffalos, elephants, and rhinos) as well as more giraffes than I could have wished for (my personal favorite). The evenings were spent in the lodge, enjoying the amenities of the modern era like flush toilets, suede couches, and Fanta.

Then today we had a full-day drive through the Ngorogoro crater, often called the cradle of civilization since the oldest fossils directly linking to humans were found here (the skeleton was called Lucy, though they also have a stretch of footprints and a cornucopia of other bones, tools, and fossils dating back over 3 million years). It’s also a fertile basin of flora and fauna alike, with everything from the big five (we finally saw a rhino here) to flamingos, ostriches, baboons, zebras, topis, warthogs, and a whole lot more. They seemed to peacefully coexist, though clearly things get interesting when certain animals get hungry… It was amazing and I got some spectacular photos (uploaded soon, I promise!).

All in all, it was a great few days of relaxation and a chance to see the wildlife of East Africa. And yet, I can’t believe my adventure has come to a close – it has gone so fast! I have one more week of domestic travel in the US and then I’m back to Boston for my final semester of business school. I can’t believe my HBS adventure has gone so fast! Four more months of cases and conferences and sharpened pencils and then… then I graduate for (possibly) the last time. Whoa. I can’t think of that right now. Now I need to do laundry, pack my backpack one last time, and hop into bed. I want to catch one last sunrise here.

Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro!

christina_wallace — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 18:05:00 GMT

Dear readers, I am pleased to announce that I have returned from the Kili climb completely intact. Furthermore, I would like to share the fabulous news with you that I MADE IT TO THE TOP!!! Seven days of grueling hiking, six nights of soggy camping, and 6000 meters of the tallest freestanding mountain in the world and I totally made it! But I am getting ahead of myself.

Starting Monday, January 4, 21 HBS students and a team of more than 60 guides, porters, and cooks began a 7-day trek up Mount Kilimanjaro, which officially stands at 5895 meters (19,340 feet) at Uhuru Peak, the highest point in Africa. Over the next six days we hiked nearly 100 kilometers (about 62 miles), starting in rainforest and ascending above the treeline into moorland and then semi-desert (not quite a desert… it rained every day we were on Kili) before reaching frozen scree and glaciers. We hiked on dirt trails, through dried-up creek beds, among vegetation that looked more fitting for a Dr. Seuss film set, and over boulder walls (which required a bit of fancy rock climbing skill and was quite fun!).

Some days were easier than others, though that was usually determined more by altitude than intensity of the climb. As we ascended a host of high altitude symptoms arrived and were attacked one-by-one by our very own doctor, Dr. Diane McNally (conveniently, the wife of our leader James and a Section B partner!). We pooled resources and brought out the Pepto Bismol, the Sudafed, the Tylenol, the Diamox, the Cipro, you name it. Probably 2/3 of our group felt less than 100% at one point or another, but none of us really went down for the count. With some meds and a bit of team support we all got back on our feet.

The weather was temperamental, as the weather on most mountains is, and we were always prepared with extra layers and a full set of rain gear in our daypacks, along with 3-4 liters of water, sunscreen, water purification tablets, hats and gloves, Purell, and a stash of toilet paper. Don’t forget the stash of toilet paper! While we did have “outhouses” at our campsites, they were rudimentary to say the least and quite disgusting. In fact, we preferred the great outdoors to most of the lavatories and made use of the many rocks and bushes along the trails and at camp.

The real meat of our work was in our morning and afternoon hikes each day, but the fun was in the meals and evenings around the campsites. Our porters were rockstars and they set up/tore down camp every day as well as carried our larger backpacks to each site. They always started after us and beat us to the next site by hours, impressively navigating the trails quickly and with loads of up to 30 kilograms each. They prepared hot tea for us in the morning and basins of warm water to bathe with. The cooks made hot meals three times a day, including delicious porridge every morning and a variety of vegetable soups every afternoon. Plus we never missed afternoon tea, though our version was with Cadbury’s hot cocoa and either popcorn or roasted peanuts. It almost seems plush for a camping trip, and yes, it was nicer than doing these tasks on our own, but make no mistake: this was no easy trek. It was a real slog and the help from the porters made it possible to get up every morning and trudge onward despite the cold, the squat-peeing, the altitude, and the headaches/nausea/sniffles/swollen joints.

Finally on Day 6 we set out for the summit. Base camp the night before was at 4600 meters and we had six hours to reach the summit at 5895, a hike of some 7km. Easy enough right? But we started at midnight, on little sleep and even less food, with headlamps to guide our way, and the high altitude quickly setting in. Within an hour I was miserable with a throbbing headache and the same dizziness I experienced on Mount Bisoke, and I quickly fell behind the rest of the group.

Luckily we had six guides with us for summit day so we were able to fracture off into groups with similar paces and my guide, Antipus, held steady with me until the top. We climbed together, and every hundred steps or so I sat on a rock with my head between my knees for a few seconds before gulping down some water and starting again. He kept the pace slow and steady and made me shout “I can do this!” every hour. To keep my mind off of the summit I chanted everything from the Greek alphabet to the US Presidents, from the Preamble to the Constitution to the books of the Bible. I even counted my steps in French and Spanish from time to time, each time starting over once I hit 100. And it always helped for about fifteen minutes, and then I needed to sit for a few moments. The closest I can describe the misery of altitude sickness is this: imagine you haven’t eaten for a week (the hunger pains are gone but you have absolutely no energy whatsoever) and add the headache after crying for days on end. Then start hiking in zero-degree weather around 3am or so. That’s what this felt like.

And yet, somehow, miraculously, I made it. Sometime around 6am I reached Stella’s Point, the second highest peak on Kili and as the sun rose over Tanzania I finished the final twenty minutes up to Uhuru where the rest of the HBS group was waiting. Nearly all of us made it. Unfortunately Diane’s altitude sickness was much worse than mine or anyone else’s and somewhere around 5000 meters she had to turn back (acute altitude sickness can be deadly). Another girl, Justine, made it to Stella’s Point when she realized she had frostbite on her fingers and also went down to base camp. But the remaining 19 of us were all there – including a very brave Suzie, who had been sick for several days, and my tentmate Meghan J, who had been fighting food poisoning and was a bit unsteady when we set out that morning.

It was exhilarating and emotional (I am the first to admit to crying when I reached the top) and an experience I will never forget. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, physically, yes, but also mentally and emotionally. The focus and stamina and perseverance required to succeed is mind-blowing. I still can’t believe I decided to attempt it. But I made it. So “I just can’t do it” isn’t really an option for me anymore. I climbed Kili. I can do it.

From here on out

christina_wallace — Sat, 2 Jan 2010 09:25:00 GMT

Hello, dear readers. I just wanted to put up a note before leaving Kampala... I'm not sure what the internet situation will be over the rest of the trip. Surely there is none on Kili but I'm not convinced there will be any at the lodge before and after so... this might be my last post for a while. Happy new year to everyone, and if you don't hear from me until Jan 14, no worries. I'm having a blast =)

Kampala, Rafting, and an awesome start to 2010

christina_wallace — Fri, 1 Jan 2010 20:52:00 GMT

Hey peeps. Sorry I've been offline for a few days, but boy do I have stories! Last I wrote I was about to meet up with Paul to explore Kampala. Explore we did, taking matatus (minibuses packed to the brim) around town, hitting up a Hindu temple and the national Muslim mosque of Uganda (where I was forced to wear multiple scarves to turn my jeans into a skirt and cover my hair and arms) and eating traditional Ugandan food. The pictures are pretty awesome if I say so myself! The Ugandan food... well not so much. It's rice, mashed plantains, peas, and either goat or chicken stew (I got the chicken) that is mostly oil and a piece of meat that is utterly unidentifiable. I also managed to hit by a car, though it was more frightening than physically harmful. My waterbottle bit the dust, but I got little more than a hipcheck from a Lexus cruising by a bit too close to the pedestrian side of the road. We also hit up the Kasubi tombs where the Bugandan kings are buried (one of the many tribes in Uganda). The most enjoyable part of the day was being able to talk with locals at the mosque and at the tombs where we learned more about the Ugandan perspective. Also interesting, the guy at the mosque insisted Uganda was 70% Muslim where as the (Catholic) guy at the tombs as sure it was 70% Christian. Too bad we didn't ask the Hindus the same question.

Then Thursday we headed up to Jinja with Melissa and Christina from HBS and Emily, a girl we met at the hostel in Kampala who is doing an internship in Uganda. The four HBS kids went rafting along the Nile during the day (four class-5 rapids plus a smattering of class-3 and -4s, and we stayed in the boat until the very last wave of the very last rapid) while Emily went in search of a doctor to see if she has malaria. (Outcome: probably, so she started meds.) We had a great time, though no amount of sunscreen could prevent us pale kids from sunburns. I escaped with only minor burns on my knees (as compared to the 2nd degree burns I got in Costa Rica while doing the same activity) and the top of hands. I'll try to get pictures from Paul up soon from the trip: he had a waterproof camera and we ended up with some sweet shots.

Then it was to the campsite at Bujagali Falls where we partied with the other backpackers to welcome in the new year. We made quite a few friends and had a memorable night. It was not only a vast improvement over last year's "celebration", but probably top 3 of all time. =)

Today we hung out at the campsite until we caught the shuttle back to Kampala. We were going to go biking around Jinja, but the rain started early and never let up. Instead it was a chill day of reading and eating and relaxing. Probably a good idea after all given the previous day's activities. Now we're heading out to one last group dinner before heading our own ways tomorrow. Paul and Melissa head down to Rwanda for the IXP. Christina and I fly to Nairobi and then on to Kilimanjaro to join up with the Outdoors Club Kili trek. Emily is hanging in Kampala for a bit and then back to her internship out in the boonies. All in all, a great few days.

Making friends while travelling

christina_wallace — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 10:32:00 GMT

I have had the wonderful fortune of meeting fabulous people on this trip through East Africa. Some of them have been fellow travelers like Ian in Mombasa, Jess and Wen-Li in Zanzibar, and a Georgetown MBA grad working in SF named Christine on my flight to Kigali. They all have fabulous stories and are on amazing trips themselves, and are happy to share a day or two with me.

And others are locals who have enriched my trip in other ways. There was Kim, the Dutch manager of the KIA Lodge in Kilimanjaro, who shared some champagne and her story with me on Christmas. Seven years in Tanzania has given her all sorts of adventures, but she's a bit lonely at the base of Kili and yearns to try something new. Nonetheless, she was happy to have some company for Christmas and was a great companion for the day.

Then there was the Belgian family I met this weekend in Rwanda. Laurie and Mathieu live in Kigali with their son Colin, she teaching for a Belgian primary school and he doing something with hydroelectricity for a Belgian water company. Their parents and Laurie's little sister, Marie, were in Rwanda for Christmas and they all went up to the Volcan National Parc for the weekend, where Greg and I met them on the hike. Last I wrote I was heading back to Kigali with them, since they had graciously offered me a ride with them. But it gets even better: before we reached Kigali they asked if I'd like to stay with them for the night before heading to Uganda. Of course I accepted!

I still was able to spend the afternoon in town, going to the genocide memorial (beautifully done, though hard to complete), checking email, and buying my bus ticket. Then I headed back to their gorgeous house in the suburbs of Kigali and we had the most fabulous evening around the dinner table, eating soup and bread and cheese and delicious Belgian chocolate, and talking -- some in French, some in English, so all of us could practice. Their hospitality was amazing and that evening with them was definitely a highlight of my trip. Perhaps I will make it to Belgium someday soon to say hello again!

Yesterday I took a 10-hour bus from Kigali to Kampala, and while I survived, I don't recommend it to anyone. The roads in Uganda are terrible, but that doesn't stop the bus driver from pretending he's on the autobahn. We very nearly tipped over at least three times (even the locals on the bus were fearful) and my window wouldn't shut so when it rained (twice!) I got soaked. Nonetheless, I'm here and about to set out to explore Kampala with Paul, who arrived last night. Christina and Melissa return from Murchison Falls tonight and we head to Jinja tomorrow for some amazing whitewater rafting.

I'm starting week 3 of the trip today and so far, this has been such an amazing adventure. If I don't get to post again before leaving for Jinja, Happy New Year! Happy new decade, even!

P.S.

christina_wallace — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 15:36:00 GMT

Picasa is acting up a bit and a lot of my captions aren't loading... so be patient if the new pictures from Rwanda don't make sense. I'll try to fix it when I get to Kampala tomorrow night.

Adventures in Rwanda!

christina_wallace — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 14:41:00 GMT

Hello, dear readers! I’m posting this on Monday though I wrote it Sunday night. So bear with me on the time difference… Last I wrote I had just arrived in Kigali after a harrying travel day last Friday. So much has happened since!

Saturday morning I got delicious coffee at the Hotel Milles Collines, but Greg and Nathalie were nowhere to be found. Nearly two hours and two frantic phone calls to Greg’s Rwandan cell phone later I discover they are on “Africa Time”, which is a bit more fluid than even Central America Time, and certainly a world away from HBS Time. (Side note: thank goodness for Skype! It has enabled me to both talk with Glenn and my family back home, but also call Rwandan numbers and my bank in the US to figure out why $2000 in unauthorized charges just appeared on my credit card…) We met up at noon and Nathalie decided first to do her own thing with her friend from grad school for the afternoon, then to “opt out” of going to Ruhengeri with us at all. So Greg and I spent the afternoon in Kigali (first trying to go to the Genocide Museum, but failing since it was the day after Christmas – Boxing Day – which is a national holiday in Rwanda) ultimately spending time at Bourbon Coffee and getting lunch at Indian Khazana, per Glenn’s recommendations.

Then we hopped a bus to Ruhengeri, which was an interesting two hours if not for the gorgeous scenery, then certainly for the nuns in the row in front of us who fell asleep and then started snoring… See my pictures! Once we got to Ruhengeri we had to figure out the last step: 20 minutes to the Kinigi Guesthouse, which is not on a bus route. There were no regular taxis in sight so we ended up on taxi motos, which are motorcycle taxis that cost a lot less and are pretty common in Rwanda. (We also took taxi motos around Kiglai, and both times it was super fun, even if it isn’t the absolute safest way to get around.) We strapped on our backpacks really tight, donned the “guest” helmets, and sped away in the darkness toward Kinigi. This ride was actually one of the highlights of the trip because a) riding on motorcycles is kind of fun, b) it was super spontaneous and worked out in the end, and c) I talked in French with my driver the entire way and he ended up complimenting me on my language skills when we arrived. =)

It was pretty much straight to bed once we arrived since Sunday morning would be an early one. This morning we awoke around 5:45 and headed first to breakfast in the guesthouse, where we met a few fellow travelers who were also headed to the park, and then on to the park itself by 7am (the official start time). We bought permits for the Mount Bisoke hike, and since the start of the trail is a good hour away from the park headquarters, had a park ranger phone a driver in Ruhengeri to come be our car for the day (not cheap, but necessary). Then at the last minute three Belgians joined the hike, and they had their own car, but we decided to keep Francis, our driver. After all, Greg would need to get back to Ruhengeri after the hike and this was easier than finding another taxi moto.

So we set out for the 8-hour hike and soon discovered that not only was this the rainy season in Rwanda, but that the trail up Mount Bisoke is pretty much straight up the side of the mountain. There are no casual switchbacks zigzagging their way up; no, it’s steep and thanks to the rain, a trail of mud. Literally: gobs and mounds and puddles of mud. Slippery, sloshing, squishy, slurping, sticky mud. Within just a few minutes I learned the true value of my new travel clothes when, despite the mud, my feet stayed warm and dry all day and my pants were waterproof and totally flexible (no jeans would have survived what I put my trekking pants through today). Combined with a long-sleeved shirt, a fleece vest, a wool sweater, and a thin rain jacket, I had enough combinations to keep me going all day. Yay amazing hiking boots and clothes from Athleta (a new online Gap company) and Ex Officio. I might need to invest in these companies. They got it going on…

Between our walking sticks and one particularly nice guide named Claymont, who caught me on more than one occasion, I made it up the mountain without too much fuss. Yes, I was the slowest (what’s new?). Yes, I had some discomfort from the steep incline and intermittent rain and ridiculous cold at the top (something around 50 degrees before you take into account that we were totally wet). But after 4 hours of hiking we reached the crater lake at the top. And then it was time to come down.

Normally the descent is totally easy, and takes only a portion of the time spent going up. But most descents I’ve done have not been the equivalent of mudslides. Nor have I ever climbed anything nearly this tall (at the peak it is about 3800 meters and we probably climbed over 1000 meters in height from the base to the crater). So it started pretty slowly. And then it got worse. The altitude nearly did me in, with crazy dizziness and the worst abdominal cramps/nausea I have ever experienced. Seriously, ladies, imagine the worst PMS cramps you’ve had – the ones that left you in bed all day popping Aleeve every 4 hours. Now add the lightheadedness that comes after not eating all day. That’s what I felt like on the top of this freaking mountain. And it wouldn’t get better until I got to the bottom.

So for the next four hours I gingerly made my descent, with Claymont and Greg assisting the entire way. It was so slippery and so steep – my abs and shoulders and bum are all wretchedly sore from the involuntary tensing that occurs every time you skid. I felt so sick, and Greg got some blackmail-worthy pictures of me looking like an idiot. But we made it, and I’m pretty sure now that I can do just about anything. This was physically the hardest thing that I have ever completed and I probably won’t be able to move in the morning, but I did it. I survived. What a wonderful feeling!

Greg left tonight to head back to Goma for his return flight to Kinshasa tomorrow. I was going to take a bus back to Kigali tonight, but the Belgians from the hike offered me a ride with them tomorrow morning so I’m spending one more night here in Kinigi. I’ve also decided to extend my stay in Rwanda through Tuesday morning so I can a) do laundry (check out my pics for just how gross we ended up getting today), b) see the Genocide Memorial, and c) book a bus to Kampala early enough to pick a good seat. Plus Rwandan coffee is delicious, and I could use another cup from Bourbon Coffee. Then Tuesday I’ll travel overland to Uganda (including passing the equator!), which should take about 10 hours via bus, and meet up with Paul (and HBS friend) in Kampala Tuesday night.

This has already turned into an amazing trip, and I can’t wait to see what the next few days in Uganda are like! It will be fun to hang out with Paul and later Melissa and Christina (also HBS friends) for New Year’s. Then it’s back to Tanzania for Kilimanjaro. While it may seem foolish to attempt something nearly 20,000 feet high when I struggled with 12,500 feet today, I think the 6-day approach plus altitude sickness medicine (and a team of 20+ HBS kids) will make it a bit more manageable. Until next time!

Traveling in East Africa: a primer

christina_wallace — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 09:00:00 GMT

When I starting thinking about taking this trip I wondered how much planning I should do ahead of time and how much I could just figure out as I went. When I backpacked through Europe it was during the high season, and I had to make reservations well in advance to secure a seat on a train or a bunk in a popular hostel. In contrast, when I travelled through Central America I planned nothing in advance (save my return flight) and was able to make my way around three countries with no problem.

The more I read about the tourist infrastructure in East Africa the more I thought I should make some key plans, like flights and hotels in popular spots (such as Zanzibar around the holidays). But when I tried to book these reservations I found some companies and countries more accessible than others. Kenya Airways, for instance, has an easy-to-use website and processes credit cards. Precision Air, out of Tanzania, is more of an “email with our Reservations desk” kind of process, and they don’t take credit cards; you either wire money in advance or hope they don’t cancel your booking and pay in person. RwandAir was the worst of them all. You “book” online, and they (supposedly) email you back with details a la Precision Air. But the one email I got three weeks ago never allowed me to follow up, and when I went to their website again this past week the flight I wanted didn’t exist but a different one, three hours earlier, did.

So I arrive in Kilimanjaro intending to finally buy this ticket (RwandAir doesn’t have offices in many airports so this was the first time I’d be near a ticket agent) and the office is closed. Apparently my flight from Dar was too late and everyone at the airport went home. So I show up yesterday morning to buy it. He’s not there; he will arrive at 3pm for the 5:30 flight. So the flight is at 5:30, even though the website says 2:30? Yes, we promise, 5:30. (I get very nervous when someone promises me something here… I’ve found that people generally give the answer they know you want to hear, whether it is “15 minutes” when I ask how long the flight has been delayed for – correct answer: 4 hours – or “no stinging nettles in this forest, flip flops are fine” as the wretched plants sting my ankles.)

So I return at 3pm and wait outside the ticket office. No one is there. At 3:30 one of the janitors from the airport comes out and tells me to wait inside, I’m making people nervous just standing there, he’s coming, just be patient. At 3:57 the ticketing agent shows up and proceeds to chat with a security guard until 4:10, at which point the janitor points me out and he ushers me into his office.

“I need to buy a ticket to the 5:30 flight to Kigali. I have a reservation” (show printed email with booking and price of $194) “and just need to pay the price listed.” No, the price is now $277 he says. “Why?” Because you were supposed to wire money and that has a $50 fee on top but now you are pay in cash the price is more. “That makes no sense. If there was a $50 fee for wiring money then by paying in cash I am bypassing that fee; moreover, the new price you are trying to charge is $85 more than the booking so the math doesn’t work out.” He grunts. He types things. It’s now 4:20. He clicks and types and avoids making eye contact. “I’m a student if that can help you find me a lower price.” He ignores me and keeps clicking, though the speed has been greatly reduced over the previous few minutes. Finally, The price you pay is $207. (It’s 4:35.) “Okay.”

With 55 minutes to go, I pay the man and he follows me into the airport, puts on a yellow vest, and stands behind the check-in counter. He grabs the ticket he just gave me out of my hand and tells me to put my bag on the scale. I check in, go through customs, hit the restrooms, and make it to the gate just as they are about to board. I look through the big windows to the tarmac and our awaiting plane: the same guy is now driving the trolley with our bags on it. And as we settle into our seats he comes on board the plane to count passengers and give the manifest to the pilots. Perhaps that is why there is rarely anyone in the ticketing offices… they are multi-tasking?

In any case, I made it to Kigali, city of rolling hills and paved roads. The contrast with Tanzania and Kenya is stark, and not just because the official language until last year was French (they are trying to join the East African Community and that requires English apparently), they drive on the right side of the road, and their power outlets are European instead of British. No, what’s strange is that this almost feels like Europe with its functioning traffic laws, little use of horns, and policemen who act as security forces instead of nuisances looking for a bribe. (In Zanzibar I was in no fewer than three taxis who were pulled over and had to pay bribes for transporting white passengers – apparently white passengers require a special permit, and while my drivers all had that permit, the police were insisting it was the wrong one.)

I’m looking forward to seeing more of the city today with some friends, Greg and his colleague Nathalie, who work for the UN in the DRC and are in Rwanda for the holidays. We’re meeting up for coffee at the Hotel Milles Collines (the “Hotel Rwanda”) then heading to the genocide memorials. Tonight we will snag a bus to Ruhengeri, with the current plan to trek Mount Bisoke and see the grave of Dian Fossey in Volcan National Parc tomorrow. We’ll see how that all works out… Cheers!

Merry Christmas!

christina_wallace — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 11:35:00 GMT

I’m writing this on Christmas morning from the KIA Lodge just outside Kilimanjaro airport (and Mt. Kilimanjaro herself). This isn’t getting posted until later because, well, despite the exorbitant amount of money I’m paying for this hotel (it’s the only one near the airport – others are an hour and a $50 taxi ride each way) their internet access is not working. Which really sucks.

I’m here because I’m supposed to fly to Kigali today on RwandAir – an overnight at KIA was required since there is no direct way to get from Dar Es Salaam to Kigali, despite the fact that they are capital cities of neighboring countries. So I flew from Zanzi to Dar to Kili and am trying to catch the one flight to Kigali today… except I don’t have a ticket yet. And the airport ticket desk won’t open until 2 hours before the flight. So I’m going to show up at 3:30 and hope that there is a ticket available (likely) and that it is the same price that I tried to reserve it for two weeks ago (unlikely). The problem is that RwandAir takes “bookings” online but you can’t pay online so they ask you to wire money. But when they sent the email about wiring money they never included bank information so I could do so, and when I replied asking for the bank info they never wrote back. Not to any of my three emails in the last two weeks. And they don’t answer their phone. So… who knows if I will get there or not.

Complicating matters, I don’t have a place to stay in Kigali when I arrive, and I’m getting there after dark. Very few places had websites or email addresses to book online and when I decided to try for a more upscale one that did… well I have no internet access to try.

So to recap: Christmas, no airplane ticket, no hotel, no internet. And the lodge just tried to charge me an extra $25 “Christmas fee” when I checked out even though it was not included in my bill when I reserved here. When I showed them that bill they said it was a mistake. Twice now I’ve been charged for more than originally billed when I’ve gone to pay because they made a mistake. Why must I pay for their mistakes? Shouldn’t they absorb the cost of their mistakes? It makes me very wary of all prices here. Why should I enter into a contract with you if you reserve the right to charge me more later on?

Oh, and my credit card was declined even though I told Citibank I’d be traveling in these countries during these dates. Good thing I brought a backup…

Merry Christmas!

Swimming with dolphins

christina_wallace — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 18:42:00 GMT

Today I went snorkeling off of the southwest coast of Zanzibar with a group of maybe 10 from various hotels nearby. They drove us to the beach where we donned flippers and snorkeling masks and then hopped aboard a boat to head out into the water. Our guides mentioned they had seen dolphins that morning and asked if we wanted to try to track them down. We resoundingly agreed and set off to find Flipper and his friends. We went maybe 30 minutes out from shore when we saw their fins; there were so many of them! Snorkel gear assembled, we hopped into the water (very salty! note: avoid inhaling some when jumping in) and swam off after them.

It was a cat and mouse pursuit for quite a while, when every time we saw their fins and headed that direction they darted down to the bottom and switched routes. Finally, when I was just nearing full exhaustion, they stopped playing coy and came to the surface! There were at least a dozen dolphins and they just swam among and between us, coming so close you could touch them! One had a few scratches from an apparent tussle, while another looked at me directly and opened his mouth a bit. I’d like to think he smiled. =) It was absolutely amazing and totally worth the bit of sunburn that came with the process (just a bit though; I wore SPF 70).

After snorkeling we went ashore and had a lunch of rice and fish (with skin and bones still attached… I had to work my way through that one) and dessert of the most delicious mangoes ever. Then it was off to a nearby forest to track down colobus monkeys, little red-backed things that lack thumbs. Thanks to my super telescopic lens I was able to grab quite a few awesome shots of the adorable creatures, along with a gigantic snail (about the size of a softball) just chilling by the side of the road.

Then it was back to town, where I fought with the airline I’m flying tomorrow (they made a pricing error, wanted me to pay $85 more, I refused nicely then a bit more forcefully, blah blah blah, we compromised on $30). Now I’m blogging and uploading pictures (obviously) then it’s back to my hotel before dark. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it: the electricity is out on the entire island and they only have generators in use a few hours a day. This is fine when it is light out, but when it is dark, it is really, really dark. Last night I tried wandering home around 9pm (after checking out the street vendors in a park – see pics!) and not only do the streets not have signs, I couldn’t see them if I wanted! It was pitch black! The stars were lovely though. In the end I stumbled upon an Indian restaurant whose proprietor felt sorry for the lonely, lost girl and pointed me in the right direction using houses and landmarks for cues. I’m hoping to avoid such an experience tonight (though after the fact, it was quite romantic and lovely!).

Tomorrow I’m flying to Kilimanjaro for an overnight layover, then off to Kigali on Christmas!

Spice tours and rainstorms

christina_wallace — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 18:40:00 GMT

Today I woke up bright and early and went on a spice tour, a six hour adventure through the spice plantations further inland. There were maybe ten of us, including two American girls who just graduated undergrad from Princeton and were both working with aid organizations in Africa. Jess is doing something with water and engineering (though she’s a biologist) in Burkina Faso and Wen-Li is working with HIV Prevention Strategies in Capetown, South Africa. They decided to meet up in Zanzi for Christmas, and they were wonderful travel companions.

We spent two hours wandering through a private spice plantation (as opposed to a government-run farm, which is used more for research than commerce and generally grows only one or two crops instead of a full gamut). All within one farm we discovered cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg (my favorite), cardamom, hot peppers, green chili peppers, pineapples, mangoes, bananas, bread fruit , and a range of trees from teak to mahogany. It was amazing! They picked things as we went and had us smell and taste everything straight from the tree. The pineapples were the most delicious fruits I’d ever had!

The whole while there was a ragtag group of boys, all around 8-14 years old, following our tour, cutting up samples to taste and weaving things out of fallen palm branches. They made bracelets, frog necklaces (see pictures on Picasa), little purses that looked like pineapples, beanie hats, and ties for the men. At first they were a bit annoying since they were constantly underfoot and shoving things into our hands without telling us what it was first. But the guide said something in Swahili, and they starting telling us things before giving them and gave us a little more space. Of course they asked for nothing at the time but made sure to get us each alone toward the end and plea for a little “help for school”. We all tipped them a dollar or two.

Before leaving the spice plantation they had samples to buy, and when Jess mentioned the prices were the same as in the market I decided I might as well pick up some cinnamon and cloves and a concoction called “coffee masala”, which is supposedly a mixture of coffee, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. We’ll see if it’s any good when I get home.

Then they bundled us back into the vans and took us to a little hut in a nearby village where we ate a lunch of spiced rice, coconut sauce, and stewed spinach while sitting on colorful mats on the floor. It was delicious! At this point we were planned to go to an old slave cave and then on to the beach, but it started raining. And while they promised it would be a “quick rain” it just kept pouring. We drove to the slave cave hoping it would lighten, but there was no break in the downpour and while none of us were too keen on getting soaked, we thought it a shame to miss the cave when it was so close. So we stashed anything valuable in a corner of the van and made a run for it. It was totally worth it.

The cave was this natural cavern that is completely invisible from even 100 feet away and then all of a sudden you look down and there is a gigantic hole in the ground. They recently built cement stairs for the tourists (though in the rain they were quite slippery) and we descended maybe 30 steps into the cave. They used to keep 50-100 slaves at a time, often up to four weeks in this cave while the trader (himself the son of a slave) found buyers. Apparently the cave has a trail that goes out to the beach, about 14 km or so, and they would sneak them in from a boat that flew a French flag to avoid detection. While slave trading was made illegal in the late 1870s in Zanzibar, it still continued through these underground channels until this trader died in 1907.

Now completely soaked we opted to return to the hotel since the rainstorm was holding strong and the sky still quite dark with clouds. As we ascended from the cave we took our time: we were already wet, we had nowhere to go, and as Jess said, when was the last time we jumped in puddles as an adult?

Back at the hotel we said our goodbyes, though I may run into Jess and Wen-Li tomorrow on a snorkeling trip. I packed my things and headed to the other side of Stone Town where I checked into the Flamingo Guest House, a lodge definitely more Spartan than the Zenji Hotel. I have a private room for $10 a night, but most interestingly, no towel. And for the first time in my travel history I did not pack one either (no room in my bag!). So we’ll see if I can be creative after my shower in the morning… =)

Until next time, my friends!

The Best. Day. Ever. (For serious.)

christina_wallace — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 21:27:00 GMT

I just had the best travel day of my backpacking career, and it was seriously amazing. And thing is, it totally was supposed to be a crap day, slogging from one town to the next, dealing with overland border crossings, sweating my winter weight off… But no, it was fantastic!

It started at 5am this morning when my alarm went off, followed by the wake-up call I ordered for 5:15. What is sad is that I couldn’t fall asleep until 3am the night before because I was absolutely convinced I wouldn’t wake up on time, so it started with a bit of a whimper. Nonetheless, I was packed and at the bus station with plenty of time to spare. We left on time, and not two minutes into the bus drive we pull onto a ferry! It was an industrial ferry, meant to cross a little strait that separated Mombasa from the main road, but it was still a ferry! I rode a bus on top of a boat and all before 7am!

We make it to the Tanzanian border by 9 and my visa is processed pretty quickly (though the border agent did finish her sandwich quite leisurely first) and we hopped back on the bus. That’s when it got a bit sketchy. The roads in Kenya were narrow, sure, and a bit windy, but they were all paved. Not so in Tanzania, land of the dirt road featuring pot holes larger than most bikes. It really was like crossing the border from Ohio into Michigan: all of a sudden you fear for your life at every turn. The driver was insane and we continued our pace at 80km/hr, and more than once I clutched the seat in front of me for dear life, but two hours later we arrived at Tanga and I was alive.

I grabbed my bag, which was now covered in a thick blanket of orange dust (dust that I fear will never quite go away) and was instantly surrounded by 7 or 8 taxi drivers all wanting to be the chosen one (the belle of the ball, if you will). They were so aggressive and so willing to get all up in my face that I kinda freaked out a bit and said quite loudly, “can’t a girl get some space here?”. The circle broke a bit and I made a run for it. Luckily I was a good head taller than them (which actually translates into a 6” inseam advantage) and despite two bags weighing a total of 60 pounds I got away pretty quickly.

At this point a guy on a bicycle comes up beside me and asks, quite nicely, if I’m looking for something in particular. He was so calm – so unlike the pushy taxi drivers – that for some reason I decided to give him a chance. I said yes, I was looking for an internet café and then lunch before heading to the airstrip in a few hours. He introduced himself as Hassan and offered to show me the way. Hassan dropped me at an internet café where I caught up on emails for an hour, then he returned to escort me to his favorite lunch place where he insisted I try the coconut rice and fried chicken. Afterward he called me a taxi and told the driver I was paying only 5000 shillings, not the 10,000 he was going to try to charge me at the end of the trip. I tried to tip Hassan for his help, but he refused saying that his job was to change money but his advice was free. So I decided to exchange a hundred bucks with him (knowing I was getting a not quite so amazing rate) since he had been so nice all day. In the end the difference was about what I was going to tip him, so it all worked out.

At this point I make it to the “airport”, which turns out to be the equivalent to a one-room schoolhouse. The ticketing agent also stood in for security screener (she was quite alarmed by the pink color of my bottle of Pepto Bismol and asked me to take a sip to prove it was ingestible), and the departure/arrival/waiting area/bag check/luggage pick-up was about the same space as my Boston apartment. The upside was that I met these awesome British sisters, Erin and Lindsey, who were also on the way to Zanzibar (though spending a night in Pemba due to some transport logistics). Erin works in the Congo with an aid organization working on water sanitation. Lindsey decided to come spend Christmas with her sister and they set out for Zanzi together. We had a lovely chat and when it was time to board our 12-seat propeller plane it was nice to know I had some friends to hold my hand should we fall into the ocean. =)

Obviously we survived the flights (one to Pemba, then on to Zanzibar, each about 20 minutes), and after I got used to the tiny plane it was an amazing aerial tour of the spice islands and Indian Ocean. I’ve never seen such blue water or been so close to sandbars and little oasises (oasii?). It was spectacular, and I was a bit sad when it ended.

Now I’m in Zanzibar, staying in Stone Town at this little bed and breakfast called the Zenji Hotel for tonight. They only had one night free so tomorrow I have to switch to the Hotel Flamenco, but I’m not too worried since it seems to have good reviews online. I wandered the coast tonight and happened upon an adorable restaurant just at sunset so I grabbed a table with an ocean view and sipped on passion fruit juice as the sky lit up. After glancing through the menu I opted for dinner there as well, choosing this shrimp and noodle concoction that I can’t quite describe but was so amazingly delicious. And as I walked home under the moonlight I realized I could finally name the smell that lingered all throughout the island: incense with a bit of clove.

Fort Jesus, the Old Town, and the sweltering heat

christina_wallace — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 17:07:00 GMT

Let me tell you: a bed is a magnificent thing. A bed with a fan after a long, luxurious shower? Even better. Despite fears I might not fall asleep, I had no such problems last night. I slept a solid 8 hours with no interruptions and awoke feeling grand. I took another shower this morning just to revel in the moment of total cleanliness then gathered my things and headed down to breakfast on the veranda of my hotel.

Ian and I had made tentative plans to meet up "this morning" though no time had been set. After an hour or so of journaling (and arranging a bus to Tanga tomorrow) I decided to track him down. So off I went to find the Lotus Hotel. He was checking out just as I arrived and we set out for Fort Jesus, a fort built by the Portuguese in 1593 and subsequently ransacked and rebuilt multiple times by multiple countries. Now it's just roped-off ruins, though that doesn't stop the locals from charging 800 Kenyan Shillings ($12 give or take) for entrance to "non-residents". I'd like to think the fees are going to restoration of the fort, but it doesn't appear like much restoration is going on.

The Fort was definitely a good stop, and I got quite a few pictures, but the sweltering heat was getting to us and we decided to head out after about an hour. We then wandered through the old town, a bit of a byzantine tangle of streets with narrow alleys and no signs (not unlike Fez). One thing that continued to surprise me: though much of Mombasa is Muslim (the Swahilis are descendants of Arab/African marriages) many businesses are open Fridays but closed Sundays. As today is Sunday... well the old town was a bit quieter than usual I suppose.

At this point Ian said goodbye and headed to the train station. He is taking the overnight train back to Nairobi tonight, since he has to meet up with students on Tuesday. We never did track down our Swiss backpacker friends so the afternoon was on my own. Given the heat (it was over 100 with the heat index today) and our busy morning I opted for a quiet afternoon of photo editing, journaling, and water-guzzling back under the fans of the hotel veranda.

I am pleased to announce that my SPF 70 held up quite admirably in the direct sunlight today, as did my Deet 40 bug repellent (only one mosquito bite so far). Unfortunately I also learned that Deet 40 is a useful alternative to nail polish remover and thus my modest splurge of a manicure back in Boston has already met its end.

In any case, I'm off to track down some dinner and repack my things tonight since I have to head to the bus station at 6am tomorrow. First it's 4 hours to Tanga (across the Tanzanian border), then a flight to Pemba (just 20 minutes!) and another flight to the island of Zanzibar. I'll be there for three nights. Here's hoping the bus ride isn't as miserable as those I took in Central America...

Until next time, my friends!

The longest (and most awesome) way to get to Mombasa

christina_wallace — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 23:21:00 GMT

Hello, dear readers! I am writing from my hotel room in Mombasa, a lovely, air-conditioned closet of a room with the most wonderful, fulfilling, amazing shower on the planet. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Last I wrote, I was schvitzing in a sweltering cyber cafe in Nairobi, on my way to the train station for my much-anticipated overnight train ride (in 1st class!) to the Swahili coast. After procuring a mediocre lunch (but with delicious coffee) I decided to find my way to the railway station early, just in case I had trouble finding it or (maybe) my train left early. So I hopped in a cab with my 60lbs of luggage (between my two backpacks... I think I may have overpacked a bit)and arrived at the station around 3. The lovely manager gave me my ticket and suggested I grab a drink from the kiosk on the platform while I wait for the train. Now, having survived two red-eyes in a row at this point I determined it was a better use of my waiting time to plant my daypack on my lap with my big pack between my knees and take a quick nap.

I awoke about two hours later when an English bloke (named Ian, I later found out) joined me at my table and asked if I too was on the train to Mombasa at 12. I was a little concerned -- perhaps I was still sleepy? -- doesn't the train leave at 7? Ah, yes, he smiled, it's running a bit late. Five hours late. My bed for the night was running 5 hours late. Excellent.

More backpackers began arriving and within minutes a Swiss couple named Liesl and Patrick joined me and Ian and we grabbed a round of Kenyan beers, Tuskers. I found a deck of cards in a random backpack pocket and we entertained ourselves until midnight. And then midnight came. And went. And still no train. Finally at 12:30 Ian went to talk with the station managers and they insisted the train was on its way. Why don't we grab dinner in the dinner car they pulled up for us (dinner was included in our tickets). So we climbed in and, aided by mosquito lights, inhaled a bland mixture of stewed vegetables, some meat-like substance, and what I think was supposed to be rice. Let's just say it was sustenance if not a gourmet treat...

Finally, just after 2am, the train arrived and we boarded, where I was pleasantly surprised to have my own compartment (1st class tickets generally are two to a room). It was no larger than my walk-in closet in Boston, but the bed/couch was soft and a vast improvement over sleeping on airplanes. Plus it came with a pillow and sink. It also came with a communal "toilet", though it was little more than a hole in the floor. Give that a try sometime when the cabin is jolting about at 50mph. Yeah, not all that easy. Also, there was no toilet paper. (Note to self: find toilet paper for backpack.)

About an hour later we set off for the coast, just 8 hours delayed. I curled up on my bed, slapped on my eye mask, and slept until 2pm today. Yay for a decent night's sleep; boo for losing any semblance of time-adjustment. I'm going to force myself to go to bed as soon as I finish blogging here (it's a bit after 11pm).

So we made it to Mombasa around 6pm today. Ian is staying a hotel down the street and we met up for dinner at this amazing Indian restaurant a couple hours ago. He's a biology professor from about an hour outside of London and has been in Kenya for a few months. Liesl and Patrick are in a hostel just outside of town and may meet up with us tomorrow to tour Fort Jesus and the old town. They are on a 6-week sabbatical from their jobs to travel around Kenya and Tanzania. All in all, a great group of travel friends.

And finally, at 7pm here (11am back in Boston) I got my first shower of this trip. And it was amazing. I would have paid so much for that shower. And they just gave it to me with the room. Amazing.

Hope you are all having a lovely weekend. Check out some new pictures from Kenya!

Nairobi is hot (and other obvious comments)

christina_wallace — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 12:31:00 GMT

Hello, dear friends! I have made it to Nairobi and am simultaneously relieved (my bag made it too!) and on the brink of falling apart. It turns out that two red-eye flights back-to-back is a terrible idea and I haven't really slept now in nearly three days. Add to that the heat here (a nice respite after chilly London, but still too hot for the fleece-lined pants I"m still wearing) and the terrible airplane food and I'm tired, sweaty, stinky, and hungry. The perfect combination for a foul mood.

So instead, I'm chugging water while catching up on emails at an internet cafe, then tracking down lunch, and heading to the train station. I have an overnight train to Mombasa, a Swahili town on the Indian Ocean where I will finally have a bed and shower for the first time since leaving Boston on Wednesday. Yep, I told you I'm stinky. And my hair is less than cute. All in the name of adventure, right?

Hello, London!

christina_wallace — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 13:02:00 GMT

Well, dear readers, I have arrived in sunny (yes, sunny!) London and am having a grand time. My flight was a little delayed from Boston and I took my time getting through Heathrow and as such was rewarded with a discounted day ticket on the Tube since it was off-peak! A fabulous start!

I came into Piccadilly Circus and just started wandering. Upon Charlotte's recommendation I decided to make it to Buckingham Palace and Big Ben/Westminster Abbey, though in all honesty I planned to do it later this afternoon. Instead, my wandering "toward the river" ended up in St. James park and I happened upon the palace *just* as the changing of the guard was occurring. How lovely!

While definitely crisp, the weather is bright and lovely and as long as I walk briskly I am keeping warm even without a coat. The cold air is quite nice actually since I hardly slept a wink on the flight and no amount of caffeine can make up for that lack of rest. So I just have to avoid long trips on the Tube (for fear of falling asleep and ending up in who-knows-where) and keep exploring.

My favorite culinary treat so far: Scottish porridge with raisins and dried apples. So delicious. I've been advised to try high tea at the Liberty, so I may venture that way after the Tate Modern and the Globe Theatre. Then it's back to Heathrow for my flight to Nairobi. Here's hoping I'm tired enough to sleep all the way there. My inkling is that I will be..

Hope everyone is doing well! Day 1 is off to a great start. Cheerio!

Packing for "January Term"

christina_wallace — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 14:58:00 GMT

Here at Harvard we have this thing called "January term", which is basically an extended winter break (5.5 weeks or so) in which you are supposed to celebrate the holidays and then do something productive like a mini-course or internship. I, however, am doing it a little differently. I like Christmas as much as the next girl, but since I am one semester away from being a full-time grown-up, I wanted to use this chunk of time to squeeze in a major adventure. Thus I leave this Wednesday for my J-term excursion.

First up: three weeks solo in Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, and Uganda. Although I prefer to leave things a little more flexible when traveling alone (you can often make friends and tag along with them for a couple of days if you keep things fluid) it seems East Africa is a little harder to get around in and thus a bit of structure (internal flights, etc.) goes a long way. Hopefully I'll be meeting up with a couple of Glenn's friends in Kigali and then three HBS kids in Kampala for a little white-water rafting over New Year's.

Then it's back to Tanzania where the HBS Outdoors Club (yes, I'm a member!) is climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro and spending a few days on safari in the Serengeti. I have acquired some serious gear for this climb and am pretty psyched (though the cold at the summit and the need for high-altitude pills does worry me just a wee bit).

And finally, I head back to the States (via an overnight in London) where I embark on part three: a black-tie wedding in Brooklyn, a few days with my best friend Melissa in Indianapolis, and four days in Fresno, California, where I'll be meeting Glenn's mom and oldest sister Kirsten, before returning to Boston to start my last ever semester of school.

Pretty exciting, right? Did I mention I'm taking just one serious backpack (and a daypack)? And my trip covers everything from beaches to mountain climbing, a safari to a wedding, Zanzibar to Fresno? Yup, packing is going to be a challenge unto its own... =)

A Change of Plans: Onward to Panama!

christina_wallace — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 19:56:00 GMT

Hello dear readers! I write to you from the lovely island of Bocas del Toro just over the border in Panama. I wasn't planning on leaving Puerto Viejo quite so quickly, but a number of things combined to push me to leave this afternoon. First, there were three muggings last night in the stretch of road right before Rocking J's. The hostel is about 400 meters outside of town and it seems some stupid girls thought it was a smart move to walk alone in the dark (after everyone at the hostel and all over Lonely Planet says that is not a good idea). The first two girls were held at knife-point and lost their passports and all of their money/credit cards, then were released. The third girl didn't have her passport or any money on her, so the frustrated punk decided to attempt to rape her. She got away but he managed to stab her hand as she fought him, and it was in pretty bad shape.

Now for those of you freaking out right now (Mom, Emily) I am totally fine. Why? Because I stayed at the stupid hostel after the sun went down! So simple! Anyway, the muggings were the first bit to make me want to leave a day earlier than planned. The next lovely contribution was a group of five or six backpackers who got rip roaring drunk/drugged and decided to wrestle at 2am in the common area (where the noise was sure to wake up the entire hostel). Then they moved on to telling their life stories at the top of their lungs, followed by drinking games into the wee hours (4:30 was the last I looked at my watch). And yet, the hostel security did nothing to shut them up despite the posted quiet hours of 10pm to 7am. I finally yelled at them from my hammock around 4:30 when I was desperate to get some sleep after nearly three hours of this crap.

This morning I took a surfing lesson with a girl named Amanda and a guy from Finland (whose name I can't actually spell). Amanda mentioned she was heading to Bocas this afternoon and wondered if the 1:30 bus would get her to the border in time to get across (more on this later). The surfing instructor didn't think so; he said the last sure bet was 12:30. Well I did my little lesson and managed to escape without major injury (though I did incur a bloody nose after my board hit my nose ring after a wipe out). I didn't stand up all the way but I did make it to my feet in a crouching position and coasted through a wave for a good 20 meters. Not going to win any awards, but I had fun trying.

I made it back to Rocking J's by 12:10 and after seeing that Amanda was going to try to make the bus (along with quite a few other kids from the hostel) I grabbed my things, stuffed them in my bag, and ran to the bus stop with about 90 seconds to spare. We took a bus to the border crossing at Sixaola, then walked across a ghetto suspension bridge (think Indiana Jones bridge with semi trucks crossing it) to the Panama side, where we went through customs. Then a group of us caught a cab to take us about an hour to the water taxi. Five minutes into the ride, however, we get stopped by police and then then held up for 20 minutes after a girl from Denmark didn't have a tourist card (which is not required for citizens of the EU, but somehow the police stationed near the border didn't know that). After a little commotion (and a bit of a bribe), they let us go and we continued on to a gas station, where our taxi driver made us transfer into this 9-passenger bus with another group (altogether there were 15 of us in the bus) to take us the rest of the way to the water taxi.

Forty-five minutes later, we hop on a speed boat and then 30 minutes after that we arrive in Bocas. It was a crazy trip, made all the more enjoyable by the sand in my bikini (in the rush, I didn't have a chance to shower or change post-surfing) and the thought that I'd get to repeat it to return to Costa Rica in a few days. :-)

So Steve, Mette, Amanda, Boo, and I are at the Grand Kahuna here in Bocas and we'll probably stick around until Sunday. I don't fly out until Tuesday, but three days will definitely be enough here and I could use the extra day in San Jose to do laundry, buy a few presents, and just maybe... sleep? Here's hoping the rest of tonight is chill, because I am absolutely exhausted. Ta for now!

Tortuguero, trail mix, and hammock hostels

christina_wallace — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 19:07:00 GMT

After a twelve hour bus ride from Leon to San Jose on Saturday (including the longest line I have ever seen to get through customs at the border) I slept, ate, showered, and left San Jose just ten hours later. I had heard amazing things about an island on the Caribbean side of Costa Rica called Tortuguero, where all the turtles (tortugas) come lay their eggs and the rain forest is pretty intense. So I hopped a public bus to Cariari, where I caught another bus through banana plantations to a private farm called La Geest, on the river. From there I took a boat through the river up to the canals and down the coast to Tortugeros. The boat ride was actually a lovely 90 minutes or so with just me and one other guy and was very chill.

Once there I found a place offering cheap cabins ($15 a night, including bathroom!) and unloaded my stuff before taking a bit of a nap. Among those things I unloaded was a ziploc bag of trail mix. Now, throughout this trip I have tried to maintain a bag of trail mix (consisting of peanuts, granola, raisins, and M&M, which are actually hard to find down here) because of these long travel days. Also, having a snack keeps me happy even when things aren't going well. So this trail mix was my lifeline. But I took it out of my backpack along with my clothes and books and laid it on the other bed before my nap. Big mistake.

I awoke and was changing for dinner when I noticed it: four little pellets on the bed that looked suspiciously like mouse droppings and a huge hole in my bag of snacks. Half of the mix was strewn on the bed and the other half was missing (there wasn't much left after my long travel day). Now, having survived two months with mice in my apartment I decided it wasn't a big enough deal to change rooms. I found dinner and made arrangements for a canoe trip the next day, then read in the hammocks until bed.

The canoe trip turned out to be awesome since it was just me and the tour guide and three hours on tiny canals in the rain forest. Apparently the few tourists that are coming through Tortuguero right now are doing all-inclusive packages with the bigger lodges and the independent companies are desperate for business. So this guide gave me a deal ($10) and went even though I was the only one who signed up. I got some pictures but too many were blurry -- it's hard to photograph moving animals from a moving boat! Then it was back to the hotel where I discovered my bathroom had flooded (leaky toilet). So while the guy was fixing the pipes in my bathroom, I mentioned the mouse just so they could put down poison or traps. He laughed: we don't have mice here! Those are geckos!

Turns out geckos really like trail mix. And also, they poop like mice. Interesting.

The rest of Monday turned out to be a bust since it started pouring and never let up until the wee hours this morning. So I hung out at this bakery with amazing fruit smoothies and read some Salmon Rushdie. Then got dinner at Miss Junie's, supposedly the best food in Tortuguero. Now I've been digging the food so far in Costa Rica, but the stuff they serve over on the Caribbean is freaking amazing. Everything is simmered in some sort of coconut sauce and the coconut rice is *delish*. Also, the shrimp was divine (though I wasn't prepared when they brought me four whole shrimps, heads, legs, and all).

Today I woke up early (it's habit now... everything in Costa Rica starts early and now I'm accustomed to waking at 6 even if I don't have to) and packed up for another day of travel, sans trail mix. Ended up taking a boat for four hours down the Caribbean coast to Moin, then hitching a taxi through Puerto Limon and Cahuita with Amanda and Paul, who I met on the boat. They stopped in Cahuita, though we are all planning to meet up in Bocas del Torro next. Then I ventured on to Puerto Viejo where I'm chilling for the next three days.

I found this hostel called Rocking J's, which features, among other things, a hammock hotel. For only $5 a night you can have a hammock under a covered pavilion and a locker for your stuff (and changing rooms in the general bathroom area). They also have a restaurant, wireless (!), free art supplies if the mood strikes, and all the bananas you can eat. It's awesome.

Here's to an awesome final week here and I'll see some of you very soon! Hope everyone is well :-)

Volcano Boarding, or: How to achieve full-body exfoliation

christina_wallace — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 13:10:00 GMT

Today I went volcano boarding down Cerro Negro, about 20 km outside of Leon, Nicaragua. This is sometimes referred to as "volcano surfing" but I think the more accurate term is "volcano sledding", since my entire group chose the prone position over the vertical option.

Trucks took us from the center of Leon, down winding dirt roads with obstacles such as oxen and soccer-playing children, until we reached the base of Cerro Negro. Apparently this volcano is quite young, only 158 years old, and just appeared out of nowhere in the summer of 1850. It has since erupted pretty regularly every seven years, but the last eruption was over nine years ago... This is not a fact you want announced as you prepare to climb the thing.

We hiked up to the top, a feat that took about fifty minutes and several silent prayers since every other step prompted a mini landslide of pumice rocks. It was quite steep and probably one of the least safe things I have attempted on this trip. Upon reaching the top we crossed around the crater to the opposite side, which features an ever steeper incline (49 degrees, in fact). Our guide gave us the general instructions (which were woefully unhelpful) and then pushed the first two girls down the mountain.

You have to picture a plywood plank, about 2 feet wide and four feet long, with a 2x4 crossbeam at the top for your bum and a crossbeam at the bottom for your feet. There is a rope anchored in the center of the bottom crossbeam with a little handle that reaches about half-way up. The idea is to hold onto this handle and use your feet to balance and break on the way down. Apparently some have successfully reached the bottom using this method. I, and most of my group, were not so lucky.

I made it about a third of the way down before hitting a rather large rock that sent me careening left and soon off of my board. I repositioned myself and started again, picking up speed rather quickly, until one unfortunate moment when my left foot found itself anchored into the rocks instead of skimming past them. My recently-sprained ankle rolled almost immediately and I rolled with it. That is: I somersaulted head-first down the side of a volcano. I think I completed two full rotations before finding traction with my hands. Sadly, my board did not continue down the mountain with me and my feeble attempts to scoot back up to retrieve it were unsuccessful. Thus I had no option but to slide down the final (and steepest) third of the volcano on my bum.

Oh, I forgot this part, it was also thunderstorming during this entire endeavor. Lightening, rain, wind whipping dust and rocks everywhere.

By the time I reached the foot of the volcano I was covered in black silt and had handfuls of lava rocks in every crevice of my clothing. I was also soaked and little worse for the wear. Back at the hostel I showered (with the weakest water pressure you can imagine) and discovered I had the smoothest skin ever, even in such hard-to-reach and often-forgotten places like the middle of my back and behind my ears. I believe my scalp even got a good rubdown considering that it took me three rounds of shampoo-rinse-repeat before the water ran clear.

Needless to say, it was an interesting experience. The good news is that I survived with only a few minor scrapes and bruises, and my ankle even squeaked through with a bit of swelling (thanks to some sturdy hiking boots). I didn't get many pictures due to the rain (and the tumble) but I posted a few from the climb up.

Now I'm packing up everything and preparing to return to Costa Rica tomorrow. I have a 6:45 bus to San Jose that should take about 10-12 hours (depending on the border crossing and how many stops our driver decides to make along the way). With only 10 days left (!) I'm downshifting into a little more relaxed pace and planning time in Tortugueros, Puerto Viejo, and Bocas del Torro. Mostly it will include beaches, hammocks, reading, and an occasional hike or bike ride. I think I'm done with the volcanoes and extreme sports. But you never know... maybe I'll spring for a scuba diving certification course?

Hope everyone is well!