Travelling is a lot of Fun

AMAZING PEOPLE

travel-writer — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 19:49:00 GMT

UNFORGETTABLE LIVINGSTONE

travel-writer — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 21:57:00 GMT

UNFORGETTABLE LIVINGSTONE

Many people travel to Livingstone, the tourist capital of Zambia. They come in from as far as Europe and America. Because of my lifestyle, which was ‘all work and no play’; I had never been to Livingstone, which is only five hours away from the City that I live in. Funny yes, but it all had to do with my attitude, the attitude of most people, who think that travelling is a waste of time and money. I have different thoughts towards travelling now. After Livingstone, I thought I should share my experience and tell someone out there that travelling is fun and exciting and very, very healthy.

Five couples came together and that included my husband and me and we decided on going to Livingstone, which is in Southern Zambia. Let me tell you why I’m bragging about Livingstone. It is the home of the mighty Victoria Falls, one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Unbelievable, I was only five hours away from this wonder and I did not see it.

“You must see the Victoria Fall”, began one of my colleagues, ‘especially this time of the year when it is full, you will never regret”.

“Oh, is it that big?” I asked.

“Wait until we get there”, was all he could say.

We arrived late in the night and all we could do was eat, bath and sleep. The next day was a full day. When we arrived at the Falls, my mouth remained open in wonder of the great piece of creation that drew people from all over the world.

“This is in my country?” I asked

Everyone burst out laughing. Yes they had the right to laugh because some people just don’t make effort to travel. There lay the mighty Victoria Falls pouring millions and millions of gallons of water per second. It is indeed the ‘smoke that thunders’ because from where we were, we all got wet from the water that sprayed itself in all directions as it surged down into the deep gorge. I could see some people wearing raincoats and some carrying umbrellas.

Livingstone is rich in tourist attractions. If you are not at the Victoria Falls, then you could try bungee jumping either from the bridge that joins Zambia and Zimbabwe, or from the gorge. I did not try this of course but I admired many people as they took this chance at death. Why death? If the rope snapped by any chance, the fall could be endless. But no one fell because of the security features that have been put in place.

From bungee jumping join the numerous tourists as they venture into the mighty Zambezi River on a ‘booze cruise’, ye, you heard me right, booze while you cruise, but please don’t get so drunk that you want to take a deep in the river that is infested with hippos and crocodiles. It is fun to go up river and then down as you listen to music and people chatting about all sorts of adventures they have had. I began to feel good that I had undertaken this journey.

Safaris are plenty in Livingstone. One such safari took me to a park that gave the opportunity to see the elephant face to face and a lion; of course at a distance.

By the time I was getting back to the lodge that was accommodating us, I was exhausted. My dreams changed from that moment on. If I can enjoy Livingstone, then I can enjoy myself anywhere in the world. I just need get the right attitude to travel.

CHECK THAT ITINERAY

travel-writer — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 21:26:00 GMT

CHECK THAT ITINERARY

I will always live to remember the first of December 2008. This was the day I was to travel back to my own country from New Delhi, India.

The ninth international children’s festival for performing art was an occasion to cherish. My colleague Benjamin and I, together with eight children, had travelled to take part in this colourful ceremony that attracted ‘all creatures great and small’ from ‘far and wide’. We arrived in India on a beautiful bright morning. Our welcoming party consisted of two men who had beautiful wreaths around our necks.

“Welcome to India”, they told us as they made a careful bow each time they approached a new recipient of their warm gesture.

I was particularly excited that we had finally arrived after months of planning and painstaking savings for the trip. The ninth International Children’s Festival for Performing Arts was an occasion to cherish. My colleague Benson and I had carefully selected the eight participants, a group of teenagers aged between 12 and 17 years. The days of preparing for the festival had been quite involving because each child needed to know their lines and they just had to put up the best act. There were many countries taking part in the festival; Bulgaria, Germany, the Faroe Island, Pakistan and many others, too numerous to mention. It was a ceremony that people continued to be talked about months after it was over because of the flair and pomp with which it was presented.

Our children presented a play entitled, ‘A Skeleton in the closet’. The play was about a woman who had once cheated on her husband. She was impregnated by her boyfriend and because she had kept her ‘skeleton in her closet’ her husband, Charles had assumed that the son who was born was his child. The play was a tragedy because the son Nico ended up killing Charles who had decided to punish him for his misconduct; drugs and alcohol abuse. Shortly before drawing out the gun, his mother let out her ‘skeleton from the closet’, leaving Charles speechless and Nico, high on heroine found good reason to pull the trigger.

It was a breath taking scene that left the crowd thinking late into the night about the vices that different societies are challenged with. This was the night we should have left for the airport, in order for us to catch the flight the next morning at one a.m. Benson was very confident that our flight was on the morning after.

“Are you sure?” I had asked him not wanting to be left behind with eight children. After the Mumbai bombings that had taken place that time, we all wanted to leave. Our relatives back home were worried sick on our behalf. Our excitement of staying in India had been drastically deflated. Benson was slow at doing many things and I took it had been very careful at taking note of the details of the itinerary.

The next day we went shopping taking it for granted that we would drive to the airport later that evening, little did we know that our plane was two hours away that time. I must confess that the sight-seeing and shopping were not regrettable but the terrorist threats here and there.

When we arrived at the airport later that evening, all the children were looking forward to boarding the plane and just taking off. However, this was the worst night of their exciting journey to India.

“How many are you?” asked the receptionist at the desk.

“Ten”, I answered shrugging my shoulders because up until this moment I had no idea that we ha forgone the privilege of simply boarding and taking off. We were soon to turn into ‘beggars’.

“You missed you aeroplane yesterday”, the lady told me, shaking her head in the famous Indian style.

I saw my immediate surround swing passed my eyes as I slowly turned to face Benson squarely. I pursed my lips and lifted a fist in his face.

“What did you tell me two days ago?” I asked him as I drew him away from the children who were by now getting agitated. Everyone was checking in without any trouble, why weren’t they? Benson was speechless when he heard that we had missed our flight the previous morning. When I realised that I was not going to achieve anything by questioning him. I went to see the airline manager, who after two hours was able to squeeze on the flight.

Everyone was clearly tired that day; no one said a word to the other. I knew that the most difficult task lay ahead of us; explaining to parents why we had kept their children for one more day.

Gallery: India is exciting

travel-writer — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 20:46:00 GMT

9th International children's festival