Traveling on My Mind

Uchesa

2010-10-17T22:59:00.000-07:00

I'm getting ready to head back to Africa next month (yes, I have already started packing!) and I've been reflecting on highlights from past trips. One of the most important experiences for me on any trip, Africa or elsewhere, is time spent meeting and connecting with the local people . Even as I wrote that last sentence, one particular meeting immediately came to mind.

In October of 2008 I was in Tanzania exploring the bush, visiting camps and lodges, and game viewing with a dear friend who happens to be a top safari and trekking guide. We turned off the paved road at Karatu in the Ngorongoro Highlands and were headed towards Lake Eyasi, which skirts the Rift Valley Escarpment. This is one beautiful lake and the surroundings are nothing to sneeze at either - if you like being off the grid. Check. About an hour into the drive I knew this area would be one of the highlights of my trip: nearly impassable roads, red dust finer than powered sugar, a big 'ol Land Cruiser and lots of locals walking in the heat of the day. That's my kind of Africa.

We arrived and spent some time with the highly threatened (their land is being encroached upon and the hunter-gather lifestyle they lead is quickly disappearing) WaHadzabe people, which are relatives of the San bushmen of Botswana - you can see the similarities in the facial features and hear the click in their speech. While the Hadzabe interaction was interesting - we basically tried to keep up with the rather swift bushmen as they hunted small birds and creatures with bow and arrow - it was the next step of the journey that really caught me off guard.

Driving back towards our camp, Kisima Ngeda (one of my favorite spots in Tanzania), we stopped at a local Datoga blacksmith to learn about his craft and watch him make some jewelry. From there, w pulled into a Datoga boma that my friend had visited before, "they're really friendly and like having guests." My friend is Maasai and the Maasai and Datoga are distant relatives, but not always the best of friends. We jumped down from the Landy and were immediately greeted by two of the 8 wives of the boma. I was immediately struck by the stunning beauty of one of the wives. Her face was lined with delicate tattoos, ears stretched

and smile glowing. She reached out her hand and spoke in Swahili (my friend translating), "You've arrived finally." I thought for sure that my friend had somehow told the boma in advance that we were coming (you know, by email or Skype - ha!). I looked at him and he shrugged his shoulders - he didn't know what she meant and hadn't seen her before at the boma. I'm a bit of a sucker for omens and I took this to be one of the best kind. Uchesa, the beautiful Datoga lady, showed us around her home, taught me how to grind corn, dry gourds and wear the local jewelry. We spoke about many things - our families, our lives as women, Africa, America...I asked her about her tattoos and pierced ears and showed her mine. "They were most certainly in the wrong place," she said. Uchesa couldn't imagine why I'd have my tattoos on my back, hidden from view. The ear and nose piercings, those were right. We laughed. And laughed. Something clicked. There was a connection there that ignored tradition, culture, distance, borders drawn on maps. It was simply human.

As we walked back to the truck, Uchesa came with us and presented me with a necklace she had made. I was humbled. I didn't have anything to give. Sure I had some extra clothes - she stood proudly wearing her animal skins; I had a pair of sandals - her feet were bare; I had stupid trinkets for guides like key chains - no cars here. I stared at her and said I was sorry I had nothing to give her. She took my hand and said she was so happy to have me visit her today, just like I was meant to. Wow. Ok, that did me in. We took a few photos together, I promised to get them to her somehow and we drove away. Tears were streaming down my face and we rode in silence back to camp. I thought maybe it was just me. Being a bit affected, if you will. No, my friend reassured me. That was strange. Something had happened there. Something bigger than us. A connection had been made. I can't wait to be back in Africa. Just a few weeks now...

The Longest Time

2010-07-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

This is the longest period of time I've been away from Africa, or really traveling at all, in quite some time. It's a weird feeling. Saying I'm bored certainly wouldn't be accurate - not nowadays with a Baby J and a busy schedule, but saying that I'm homesick might make more sense. I often don't realize how much I think of my second homes overseas, mainly Kenya and Guatemala, as places where I recharge and reconnect with who I am. Now I have a little person that I'm responsible for. I'm the one who gets to show him the World. This big, but small, scary, but kind world of ours. And I don't believe there's any other honor like that.

I'm hoping to get back to Africa this Fall, and Guatemala is slated for Spring. I think I can last that long...I hope. In the meantime, I'll reflect on what I've already experienced there.

One of the most poignant first impressions of Africa that comes to mind was a rainy afternoon in Nairobi in 1998. I was in Kenya with a university exchange program, and we were studying environmental biology - shuttling back and forth from the Kenya Wildlife Service office - in the days of Richard Leakey - to the university outside of Nairobi near Ongata Rongai. It was an El Nino year, and the rains that normally end in May had continued well into June and were really making a mess of the city. We'd spent the afternoon at another lecture and just as we were leaving to get into the bus, the sky opened. Thunder clapped and the rain pelted the skin. Immediately the roadside vendors covered their goods with plastic, and street hawkers held newspapers over their heads. The streets started to fill with chocolate milk-colored water and the black, African skin shimmered. I've always loved the rainbow-colored umbrellas that the African mamas use in both the sun and the rain. And this afternoon there where hundreds, probably thousands, lining the streets and sidewalks slowly snaking their way home to the dry safety of their houses. From inside the bus I watched, our windows fogging with steam, as Nairobi took a bath.

I don't know why this image is so clear in my mind. It must be something to do with an unexpected situation and real life combining into a mishmash of senses, colors and sounds. Isn't that what traveling always is for me?

Indiana, where are you?

2009-12-13T20:44:00.000-08:00

I spent most of my time in Northern Ethiopia on the lookout for one of my childhood movie heroes - Indiana Jones. Seriously, given the surroundings Indiana had to be around somewhere: hand-hewn subterranean churches (makers unidentified, arguably the Templars who came came in search of the Ark of the Covenant), ruins of Queen Sheba's palace, lost island monasteries and stone castles of Moorish, Portuguese and Indian influence...

Ethiopia is pretty far off the beaten path when it comes to African travel. There just aren't many travelers there, and certainly not any "tourists." This is a good thing. The country practiced a highly isolationist policy (and often for good reason), but was also visited by European missionaries as early as the 5th century AD. Additionally the Ethiopians developed Ge'ez, a language still spoken today by the Orthodox priests, built monolithic churches, wrote the Kebra Negast (the nation's epic) and fought off the Italians. This is a region with approximately 3.2 million years of history buried beneath the surface: Lucy, the world's most complete and oldest hominid was discovered in 1974 in the northeast of Ethiopia. All this history in the Horn of Africa (I won't go into Eritrea since I didn't travel there, but let's not forget it, either).

Lalibela was truly a highlight of my adventure. The town was just recently wired with electricity and there are still problematic water shortages (read: a bucket of water in the hotel room for flushing the toilet, washing hands, etc.). Set at over 8,500 ft in elevation, the town is surrounded by breathtaking, red stone mountains where monasteries are hidden and accessible only by rope ladder. Otherworldly, eh?

I kept my feet on the ground on this trip, or mostly underground I should say, exploring the collection of 11 subterranean churches that have made Lalibela (formerly Roha) a famous pilgrimage point for years and years and years. And it still is. Priest practice their chants in Ge'ez, nuns sift grain in the porticoes and pilgrims pray in the churches...all as the awestuck travelers gaze on. The churches are generally thought to date to the 12th and 13th centuries, although there are several theories as to who carved them. Local legend claims that King Lalibela fled to Jerusalem to hide from his half-brother and was intrigued by the architecture there. He vowed to build a "second" holy city when he returned to Ethiopia. The local residents insist that angels help the human residents erect the churches...after seeing them first-hand it's not hard to see why some would need a more mystic explanation to how they were built. These churches are massive - one of them, Bet Medhane Alem is over 35 feet high (remember this is completely underground) and features 38 internal columns supporting a gabled roof. Far from simple architecture.

The second morning I was in Lalibela, a few of us ventured into the compound to witness and capture the churches at sunrise. I think this second entrance was even more powerful than the first. The light was amazing and there were no other Western travelers to be found (the previous day there had been two others besides my small group). Priests were gathered for their morning prayers and nuns were filing into the temples. It was like stepping back in time. The ancient churches, scent of frankincense burning and voices chanting in an nearly dead language can't help but pull at one's soul. The words seemingly rise into the air and disappear with the smoke from the incense. Candles glow and cast golden light on the aged, soft skin of the nuns who are folding in half and sinking into the layers of Persian rugs, bowing in reverence. I took a few pictures, after asking for the priest's approval (which he happily granted with a wide grin) and then stood to lose myself in a moment I could never relive.

All photos copyright Lyndsay L. Harshman

On a Rainy Summer Day

2009-08-12T20:44:00.000-07:00

It's hard to blog during the summer in Seattle when the sun is shining and you can sit outside in the dusky light until 10pm...have you noticed? But this week the clouds rolled in and the rains came down like November. I've been reading and baking. The grocery store down the street from us is going out of business so everything in the store is for sale and cheap. We went down there for a flour run to make banana bread and found some cool cigar boxes for 50 cents (you are wondering where I am going with this). The boxes got me thinking about the most iconic cigar outpost in the World - Cuba. It's been nearly 10 years since I was there; some of the memories have faded like old photos with bent corners and others have remained clear and vibrant.

Cuba was magical. The ideas of what it's like in your mind are right - lost in time. Old cars lining the streets, crumbling Art Deco buildings and old men smoking cigars on the street. Havana is a mixture of old, really old, and new-ish development (Soviet Era funding) creating a mish-mash of a city. There's music coming from every corner and doorway - it's like living in Buena Vista Social Club - and women roll cigars in the old buildings overlooking the plazas. You can drink in Hemingway's old haunts and stroll the Malecon lined with young lovers gazing at the sea.

I think the best way to share my understanding and experience of Cuba is to quote a journal entry I wrote while on the island in January of 2000. I was certainly younger and more naive then, but my views were based on my experience there as a traveler and not a tourist and I think I hold to many of those beliefs today.

"Walking down the cobblestone streets reminded me of a land I felt once. It was far away and misunderstood. Abandoned and misrepresented. The people were soft and gentle and in no hurry. On almost every corner stood a police officer. He carried a billy club and wore a grin. A kiss on the cheek greeted you and left you. Hearts were pure and frustrated. The candy-colored buildings sagged and crumbled. But life was real. Alive. Everyone was healthy, children lived to be old and rum and rhythm ran in their blood. They didn't hate us. They opened their hearts and their doors to us. We saw their anger. We saw their struggles. Climbing a ladder without rungs, the brilliant people hung in a pitiful balance. The state controlled their pockets. They didn't know what freedom was. They were captured, but their hearts endured. The clean streets echoed salsa music not guns, the children ran free from drugs. The Revolution they spoke if with fondness but admitted the failure of the system because of human nature. Candid. Heart-wrenching. So many wonderful people, so many wonderful ideas, so many wonderful hearts lost in the last bastion of this wonderful dream of socialism. Cuba. A land that seemed to make so much sense, but didn't know how to make sense of itself. Walking down the cobblestone streets reminded me of a land I came to understand."

photos by Lyndsay Harshman

Time Travel and a Worthy Cause

2009-07-22T21:24:00.000-07:00

Let's go to a place where time travel is real--the Galapagos Islands. It's been over 4 years since I was there, but the memories are fresh in my mind. I'd never (and still haven't) been anywhere like Darwin's Archipelago. There are quite a few places that I've been where time moves at a different speed, if at all: Cuba, for sure, Bahia in Northern Brazil, Saigon, Old Delhi, just to name a few. But the Galapagos are different. No where else on Earth can you see the products of the process of adaptation (Darwin would say evolution) and experience what the world would be like without the painful effects of pervasive human interference. For that matter, the Galapagos is unique in the fact that so few predators were present in the eco-system that the animals didn't develop fear of other living things--nothing really killed them (other than the elements). It's like stepping back in time and jumping forward all in one moment--time travel at its best.

The archipelago, made up of 13 main islands and over a hundred smaller islands and rock islets, lies over 600 miles off the coast of Ecuador and is bisected by the Equator. The islands sit atop the
Galapagos "hotspot" where the Earth's crust is being melted from below and magma rushes up, creating volcanic islands. The oldest islands are thought to be 5 to 10 million years old, while the
youngest, Isabela and Fernandina, are still being formed today. Unfortunately, I missed Fernandina's lava flowing by about 2 days. She'd quieted down by the time our yacht sailed past.

Days on the islands consist of hikes, paddling a kayak through mangroves and snorkeling with seal pups, reef sharks and penguins (yes, penguins on the Equator). The waters are the most vibrant turquoise I've ever seen. And the sea creatures are so curious that you'll find seal pups teaching you to do flips while you snorkel. On land, the wildlife seems surreal: blue footed boobies, the massive waved albatross, land iguanas and ancient tortoise - Loneso me George is the last surviving of a subspecies...no one knows how old he is. Cruising around the islands is the only means of transport and there is something magical about sailing through volcanic islands as you are followed by dolphins in the sea and frigate birds in the sky.

Before I headed out to the islands, I spent a few days on mainland Ecuador at a posh, fully-restored hacienda. While there, I met my fellow trip-mates who'd be continuing on to the islands with me. Luckily, with 15 days ahead of us, we hit it off and the family of four from the Bay Area ended up being the best travel companions I've ever had. That was 4 years ago and the Reich's are still our dear friends. We hiked, kayaked and wined and dined our way through that place where time does funny things. Now, years later Corey Reich (who swam with penguins), the oldest of the Reich kids, was diagnosed with ALS - Lou Gehrig's disease. He's 23 and very few people have been diagnosed this young. Research is promising, but it's a race against time. This is another case where I hope time does funny things.

Join us in supporting ALS research through ALS TDI and Corey's Crusade. The annual fundraiser is August 22nd and the goal is to hit $1 million. I don't ask friends to donate to things often, but this is a worthy cause if I've ever seen one.

En Guate

2009-07-06T11:46:00.000-07:00

Nothing ever goes as planned, thank God, and neither has this trip! We were in Guatemala City for a few days - doing the things we`d hoped: Mercado Centro (where we DID find cacao beans, handmade leather sandals and some cool candles and candle holders), lunch at Hacienda Real (amazing lomito), National Ethnographic and Archeological Museum and, of course, Arturo`s photography exhibit. We were meant to stay in Guatemala City for another day before coming up to the Peten when Lore called to say there`d been a change of plans: we were going to her dad`s coffee finca high in the mountains about 4 hours outside of the city.

Pompeo (Lore`s dad) is a labor attorney and also, for about the last 25 years, a coffee farmer. Finca Kalibuz de Sierra is about 5,500 feet up in the cloud forest of the Sierra de las Minas. It`s one of the most beautiful places I`ve seen. Leaving El Rancho (a semi-arid climate) where we had great chicharrones and carnitas, we begin climbing into the pine forest, then cloud forest, passing small aldeas along the way. Since Lore`s dad has been driving this same route for decades the journey was filled with hilarious stories. My favorite: "That lady there was the town whore when she was young. She was a very smart woman and ran her small ´business` well. While I never visited her for her usual services, I figured out that if I befriended her she knew all of the town gossip and who was mad at who since she was sleeping with all of the finca owners. I avoided lots of potential problems with that information over the years!"

When we finally reached the finca (after nearly 2 hours on a REALLY bad dirt road that was cleared in the 1940s), the mist of the afternoon in the cloud forest was rolling in and we sat and enjoyed the view and some beers. Pompeo has the original farm house and a new hacienda that he`s building now. Scott and I stayed in the original farm house and Lore, Paco and Pompeo were in the new house. Lore fixed a great dinner and we stayed up late listening to Pompeo`s stories. After breakfast the next morning, we headed out on a hike through the forest and coffee and citrus groves. Crossing streams on small wooden bridges, surrounded by giant palms and colorful butterflies, we made our way through the forest and out into the coffee plants. The whole time Pompeo was explaining the history of the farm (it originally belonged to Lore`s maternal grandfather in the 1950s before he sold it and Pompeo bought it back many years later), the processes of growing and tending to the plants and telling funny antecdotes from his years on the farm.

The processing plant was actually quite impressive, with some of the finest coffee technology available. Guatemala was at the forefront of inventing and developing machinery to process coffee. While the coffee harvest and processing happened a few months back, it was still fascinating to see the machinery and learn the process of preparing and drying the beans.

That afternoon, we were treated to hen soup prepared by the farm manager´s wife. As Lore said, ´´two whole hens in here´´, and yes they were whol--minus the heads, feathers and feet! Then, Scott and I hiked up the road to a look out over the mountains and nearly 6,000 feet down to the Rio Honda. The finca was lost in time and such a special place. Not many travelers get to experience this way of life in Guatemala and I felt honored to be on the farm.

After a 5 1/2 hour drive (listening to the radio as the situation in Honduras escalated and the president was attempting to land on the car-blocked runway in Tegucigulpa--after circling several times they gave up), we reached Ni´Tun yesterday evening, took a dip in the lake, watched sunset and had dinner. As I´m typing now, a large flock of parakeets are singing in the trees and Nena is lying on her back on the floor trying to keep cool. It´s really hot and humid and we´ve decided to postpone our trek to Aguateca for a cooler time. For now, we´re headed into Flores for some shopping an drinks at Terrazzo. Then it´s home tomorrow. We´re already planning our next adventure here...pictures to follow soon.

Countdown to Guate!

2009-06-21T21:04:00.000-07:00

I've started my countdown to Guatemala. I do this every time I go...usually three or four times a year. About a week before we leave (ok, maybe two) I start prepping myself by drinking a Zacapa rum nightly after dinner. Then, I pack--way too prematurely--and unpack. And pack. Then I start running errands for last-minute purchases like bug spray and hitting up all of the WaMu's for fresh, crisp, unworn, post-2004 US Dollar bills. Play some Feist and Silvio--inside story. Finally, I pull together my best jungle gear, city wear (Guatemala City reeks of the most current BoHo and European fashions, hard to believe, but it's true) and Theo Chocolates (my friends in Guatemala are in love).

This time we've got some fun and unusual stuff on the agenda. Our good friend, Arturo Godoy, is having his first major photography exhibit at Museo Miraflores in Guatemala City--we're scheduled for karaoke and drinks after--hmmm, sounds suspicious. Then, we're going to have a few days of exploring the city - National Museum, Central Market, Antigua, eating good food, shopping, listening to live music, before heading up to the Peten for a stay at Ni'T un. We're going to head into the jungles to Aguateca - one of my favorite Maya sites in the region. It's precariously perched atop limestone cliffs and surrounded by a massive earthquake fault--the place can only be reached by boating through mangrove swamps. It's the stuff adventures are made of.

In the hopes that we'll find cacao beans at the Mercado Centro in Guatemala City, we're planning on roasting, peeling and grinding cacao beans and making the most delicious brownies on Earth--something we've done before and hope to God we can re-create.

There will probably be some time lying in the sun at the lake, eating Angelo's pasta at Las Orquideas, enjoying sundowners at Terrazzo and lots of cooking and drinking at Ni'Tun. That, and hanging out with our Guatemalan friends, is why we make the trek. Over and over.

Ode to Terrazzo!

2009-06-14T21:23:00.000-07:00

As I was thinking about amazing sunsets recently, I got to thinking of one of my favorite places to watch the sunset--Terrazzo in Flores, Guatemala. The place has an enviable West-facing location right on the edge of Lago Peten Itza and the sunsets are amazing--the clouds burn orange, with the lake reflecting the glow and if you look closely, you'll see the outline of un-excavated Maya temples in the distance just grassy mounds if you're not in the know. All this complimented by the the cheapest happy hour specials anywhere, toasted sandwiches, fresh pasta, homemade desserts, warm night air, friendly folk and a really lovey cat.

When I was in Guatemala last November, my friends Lore and Arturo took me to Terrazzo for drinks one afternoon and I met the young owners Juan Pablo and Marielos. They run the sweet little hotel (which is a great deal!) and the rooftop cafe-cum-bar. The place is their brainchild, adorned with bird of paradise, thatch roof, brightly-colored leather sofas and lots of candles--a place like Terrazzo could really be in any tropical paradise, but thankfully it's in Guatemala across from Lore's lodge!

This isn't Juan Pablo and Marielos' first endeavor in the hospitality industry and I sure hope it won't be their last. They've got it all down pat. All the food is really fresh (this is truly made-to-order), the bread is warm and buttery, pasta is handmade on site and somehow even their breakfast toast tastes better than mine at home. Maybe it's that jungle air? Juan Pablo and Marielos stop and chat, the huge, fluffy grey cat sits and waits to see if you are going to finish all of your lunch and the ladies in the kitchen just keep smiling. Life does move slowly on the little island town of Flores, connected only to the Peten by a small bridge, but life seems to move even more slowly at Terrazzo, and for that, I say thanks. Only 21 days until my next visit...

Sunset and bird of paradise by Lyndsay Harshman
Lyndsay at Terrazzo by Arturo Godoy: see more images by Arturo here.

Nothing Like an African Sunset

2009-06-03T22:20:00.000-07:00

We had an amazing day today here in Seattle. It was at least 85 degrees this afternoon, and just before sunset cirrostratus clouds rolled in over the Olympics. The sky blazed hot pink and orange and the Olympics were just a black silhouette. As beautiful as it was, it just wasn't Africa.

As we were floating down the Chobe River with the boat's motor silent, the sky started to glow. Hippos made their funny noises in the distance, elephants were coming down to the water's edge to drink and the air was warm. The reflection of the clouds on the water, the 'skyline' of palm trees in Namibia's Caprivi Strip and the sounds of Africa at sunset were captivating. As the sun melted into the horizon--with our gin and tonics in hand--the sky caught fire. That was my favorite African sunset...on this trip.

Deep in the Okavango Delta something strange happens at sunset. When the sky is clear of clouds and the air is cool, a soft periwinkle glow hovers above the land. From periwinkle, the sky fades to pinkish, then a light blue and if you look high enough stars are starting to shine. At Chief's Camp in the Moremi Reserve, we were out on a drive when late in the afternoon we spotted a female lion.

She was crying out a call to the African bush just letting everyone know where her turf was. It's an eerie and mesmerizing sound--impossible to explain if you haven't heard it--that goes straight through you. As she called out the sky started to fade into its pastel glory and (a safe distance away) we stopped for sundowners. That was my second favorite African sunset...on this trip.

And, of course, there is always that picture that you miss. Sunset the night I was at Africa House in South Africa was stunning. The escarpment of the Drakensberg Mountains rose impressively from the Lowveld and was back-lit by a radiant orange sky. As we drove to our sundowner spot, the colors began to fade and the night grew dark. I tried to capture it with my best lens and all the right camera settings, but just couldn't get it. My third favorite African sunset--on this trip--is emblazoned on my mind's eye, until my next trip, at least.

Ahh...Africa House

2009-05-28T21:22:00.000-07:00

Of course tourism in Africa is about the wildlife and the people, but it's also about resplendent luxury--and I found just that in South Africa at Royal Malewane's Africa House. This place was amazing. Liz, the founder and owner of Royal Malewane and La Residence (in Franschoek), has opened her private bush home for exclusive use (ie you have to rent the entire thing) when her family isn't there using it. What's more, Africa House isn't on the website and it's not marketed anywhere other than by word-of-mouth.

This is bespoke travel if I've ever seen it.

Normally I don't go for the uber-luxe places, but I am not about to complain about this experience. My suite was the size of our bedroom, bathroom and living room at home combined--I'm not sure what you need all that space for, but it was there and looked amazing. Liz has traveled the world collecting antiques, tapestries, linens and art to display at her properties and Africa House isn't an exception. My bed was from Lamu, Kenya. The art on the walls was South African and Indian, the mirrors were likely from Italy.

So while the decor, infinity pool, central fountain, soaking tub and chaise lounges were all great, what really made the stay unique was the staff and the level of attention. I've got some difficult (to say the least) food allergies: they didn't bat an eye at my bizarre dairy & gluten-free breakfast requests. Liz didn't hesitate to call Juan, the senior ranger, back to the house after hours (Liz was staying at Africa House when I was there...imagine that!) to, um, remove the bat that had made it's way into my bathroom so I could take an undisturbed soak in the tub. Sharon, the lodge manager, happily called a more-than-grumpy South African Airways to explain that Royal Malewane had offered me a private charter flight to Durban and I wouldn't need the South African Airways flight I had booked, but to not cancel the return flight that I would need. Phew, anyone who will take on the airlines is my friend for life. Then, there was a candlelit dinner under a Bedouin tent--as a thunderstorm approached in the distance--that was prepared by John, an award-winning South African chef.

Needless to say, all those things, and the fascinating conversation I had with the staff about all the languages they learned growing up in South Africa and current racial issues made Africa House real. It might be over-the-top and resplendent, but it was as cozy and welcoming as can be. I felt at home.

* all images copyright Lyndsay L. Harshman

Wildlife highlights - South Africa

2009-05-27T20:35:00.000-07:00

After having the luxury of flying business class on Virgin, I arrived into South Africa somewhat well-rested. That doesn't mean that I didn't suffer major jet-lag and fall asleep, yes, on a game drive while we were closely following a leopard. First time for everything.

I started my trip in South Africa's Sabi Sand Game Reserve (near Kruger NP). The little lodge I stayed at, Savanna, was just great. It was really homey, welcoming and offered just the right amount of luxury. The food was great, guiding was excellent and I saw more leopard on two game drives than I had in all my previous visits to Africa. Pretty impressive. Oh, and I had my own plunge pool on a private verandah, and a soaking tub which they filled with bubble bath each evening (candles and port, too!). The highlight at Savanna was most certainly the mother leopard with young cub--quite a rare sight. The mom was a bit on edge, and wasn't too happy with us so we backed up a bit. The young cub was really comfortable around the vehicle and was quite curious.

In addition to the leopard, we spotted rhino, elephant, lion, myriad bird life, zebra and...drum roll please: wild dog! While the leopard and cub were definitely exciting, wild dog trumped all. In all of my trips to Africa I'd never seen the canines and they were at the top of my list. Of course the British couple who was in the Land Cruiser with me said, "but they are just dogs." Silly people. Wild dog, also known as the African Painted Dog, are some of the most beautiful animals I've seen. Their spot pattern is completely unique, just like our fingerprints. They can cover up to 250 miles per day when hunting and are particularly vicious with their kills. On top of that, they act just like dogs, rolling in the dirt and jumping and playing around.

After two amazing game drives, I headed off to Royal Malwane. Another private reserve abutting Kruger, but a completely different experience. More on that tomorrow!

*all images copyright Lyndsay L. Harshman

Greetings from South Africa

2009-05-10T01:23:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note from here as I'm off to my next meeting. I'm at INDABA, a massive travel trade show in Durban, South Africa. It's pretty amazing what they've pulled off here. Of course, that's not as amazing as the wildlife sightings I experienced last week in the Sabi Sands Game Reserve near Kruger National Park...incredible! Wild dog (really rare to see them), cheetah with three cubs, leopard with cub, lions galore, elephant, black and white rhino and more.

I stayed at two really nice camps, one more cozy and relaxed, one totally luxurious and over-the-top in a great way. Guiding has been excellent and I've been really impressed by the standards. I am missing out on the human element that I love so much in East Africa.

Off to Botswana next on the 13th for what I'm sure will be amazing adventures in the Okavango Delta and Chobe National Park. Then, one night at Victoria Falls - thanks to records rains in Angola and the DRC, the Falls are at the highest levels in years. Looking forward to seeing that.

That's it for now, more soon!, and great pictures to post when I get home!

Off to Africa...

2009-05-03T21:48:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here frantically typing as I know I should be double-checking my travel documents and passport, but honestly it's tough for me to do that at this point. I've been to Africa so many times that I feel like go into auto-pilot and just get done what needs to be done.

I'm going to all new places on this adventure. I've been to South Africa before, but only Cape Town and this time I'm heading out into the bush outside of Kruger NP, and deep into Botswana's Okavango Delta. OK, that makes it sound more wild than it's going to be...I'm also staying at some of the most up-scale lodges in the region: the Sanctuary Lodges. I'm certainly not complaining--along with chic comes excellent guiding and exclusive private reserves. I'm anxious to see if this Africa is the Africa I know (and love!) so well.

Hopefully I'll be able to check in from Africa, but if not, stay tuned and I'm sure I'll have some great stories and pictures to post on my return.

Here I go, again!

Weaving Could Save the World

2009-04-27T21:46:00.001-07:00

It's true. Weaving is an amazing thing. It's like yoga: peaceful, preserving and deliberate. These are qualities world leaders should embrace. I have to admit I don't know much about weaving--my family brought their loom from Finland and I remember sitting on the bench as a child in awe of the huge wooden machine, my feet couldn't reach the pedals. I've watched people weave around the world and always been amazed by the beautiful products that can be created and the graceful movements that weaving entails.

Last year in May we headed out on a road trip through Guatemala and into Honduras. One of the highlights was watching the women in the Maya highland villages of Chajul and Nebaj weave history, stories, love, fear and passion into spellbinding pieces of art. Weaving in Guatemala has an incredible history. It is certainly not a topic that I am qualified to speak on in any sort of academic sense, but I've traveled deep into the areas where women weave to restore their communities and save their history.

The four of us drove from Lago Atitlan to Chichicastenango (where the Catholic cathedral is built on a historic Maya site and both Catholics and traditional Maya come to pay tribute to their beliefs) and deeper yet into the Guatemalan highlands. This was the region that was destroyed during the Guatemalan Revolution. Leveled. Decimated. Maya were shoved into churches and lit on fire or gunned down (an eerie predecessor to Rwanda). Villages were completely wiped off the face of the Earth. We stayed at a small working dairy farm called Hacienda Mil Amores in Acul--one of the hardest hit villages in the region. There were four individual bungalows with fireplaces and hot showers. We were the only people staying there and we ate dinner in the family's dining room as they circled-up around their kitchen table. The food was amazing and the stories were incredible.

From Mil Amores we ventured into Nebaj and Chajul. After parking our 4x4 on a side street in Chajul we stepped out of the truck and saw two teenage girls standing nearby. They were waving and giggling. We started talking to them in Spanish and it turns out that they had followed us around the entire town while we were looking for somewhere to park. It wasn't often that they saw tourists in town, and certainly not ones with cars. It was even stranger that we were two Americans and two Guatemalans (one of whom is a canche - a blonde). They were wary of us, but invited us to come to their house and watch them weave. This was the reason I came to the highlands. I wanted to see this next generation of survivors of the guerrilla war. I wanted to see how they acted, what they feared, how they persevered. What their weavings looked like. I'm not sure where my interest in that came from, but it was very determined and I wanted to find out more about it.

I certainly didn't learn much from an academic sense, but what I learned from being in that room with a dozen women weaving stories into fabric was remarkable. As I stepped into that smokey, 200-year-old casa (Chajul was one of the few villages that wasn't destroyed, thanks to the petition of a local man to the Gauatemalan parliment) time stood still. Of course they wanted to sell us their products, and I gladly bought, but that's not what it was about. They were happy we were there to watch them. I think they knew that we were happy to be there. As they spoke in their traditional dialect, the younger girls translated into Spanish. Each weaving, shirt, skirt, belt, told a story and had a patter that meant something. The colors were chosen for a reason. The birds and flowers had a meaning. There were three generations of women living in that tiny house, weaving day-in and day-out. They were a small community sustaining themselves on their craft. Sustaining their heritage and their securing future.

They asked why we came to Chajul--us Americans, that is. And we explained that we love Guatemala. Then, interestingly, they asked our Guatemalan friends (obviously not of much Maya blood, if any) why they came to Chajul. That was a longer story, and a better one.

*all photos copyright Lyndsay L. Harshman

Doing Your Homework

2009-04-20T21:46:00.001-07:00

I've found that the more I travel the more I want to learn about the place I'm going before I get there. A while back, my drill was to read the Lonely Planet cover-to-cover and set out ready for my next adventure. Nothing against Lonely Planet (I've found some amazing spots thanks to LP), but I always came home feeling like I missed the "meat" of the place. Like I skimmed the surface, but was missing out on all of those fascinating stories and tid-bits that only the best historians, travel writers and journalists uncover.

I think I first realized the significance of "doing my homework" last year when I read Graham Hancock's, The Sign and The Seal, before traveling to Ethiopia. Now the book is full of his personal research and conjecture, but it's also loaded with history and facts on Ethiopia. While I was still *really* surprised by what I found when I arrived (call this culture shock), I felt like a I was in familiar territory. I knew the former kings and empires, the players in the mystery of the hidden Arch of the Covenant, etc. There were several of us in my group who had read the book, and others who had not and I have to say that those who didn't do their homework felt like they were missing out on all the back-stories that we knew.

As I prepare for my upcoming trip to South Africa and Botswana, I've started reading the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith. I realize that I'm behind the curve on this one...but I still haven't touched a Harry Potter book, so I think late is better than never and traveling to Botswana is a better reason than ever to pick this series up. While the books aren't necessarily filled with references to the history and wildlife of this country, they are actually an interesting sketch of daily life and local color in Botswana.

One of my favorite websites for figuring out what books I should read up on before I go is Longitude Books. The company is completely geared towards travelers and what you should read depending on where you are going. You can click on a region of the world map which takes you to a list of recommended books and guides, complete with witty descriptions and ordering details. I love it!

I'm off to the library tomorrow to pick up Nelson Mandela's biography, Long Walk to Freedom and the next installment of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency books!

*images courtesy of Longitude Books and Graham Hancock.

Fish in Far Off Places

2009-04-16T23:05:00.000-07:00

My cousin and her friend were in Seattle today, so we went out for sushi at Shiro's. Oddly, I didn't have any fish this time around...just gyoza, vegetable tempura and miso. It was pretty good. The gyoza were actually incredible--really delicate, but full of flavor. Everyone else had sashimi and rolls which got me to thinking about great fish dishes I've had around the world.

Most recently, we were on Caye Caulker in Belize and we ate fresh grilled fish at Jolly Roger's, a shack on the beach. Actually, it wasn't even a shack...mostly just picnic tables on the sand and a big ol' Belizean guy grilling up the day's catch on a steel drum. He smothered the snapper and shrimp in garlic and butter and served up garlic mashed potatoes and coconut rice with it. All of this with rum punch and fresh toasted bread. The fish was really fresh--simple and delicious--and the run punch flowed. Oh, and we had sand under our feet. Just perfect.

Shellfish is in this category. Also in Belize, a few years back I ended up on a private caye with just myself, my guide (Sam Tillet, rest his sweet soul) and his girlfriend. We had the entire island to ourselves and had our chef and staff. Wait, maybe I am making the mini Moho Caye (there are two Moho's in Belize and this is the smaller of the two) sound bigger than it is. The whole thing was probably an acre. We had amazing African-style zip-front safari tents up on stilts looking out over the water. It was beautiful and so pristine. Getting back to the fish, though. As I had guessed, we ended up eating a fair amount of fish out there but the conch fritters stood out. The guys waded out into the water, pulled up some conch and turned that meat into a luscious and tasty bit of fried goodness. Browned and crispy on the outside, a bit salty and really tender on the inside. I have the shell polished up and sitting on the table at home reminding me of those fritters.

Long ago and far away on one of my early adventures I had the best langostina of my life in the most unique place I've ever dined. Wait, I can't start this story now. This is it's own post. Scratch that, I'll finish that story later.

Deep fried, well, I'd call them guppies. Those teeny tiny little fish fried up right before your eyes at Pinotxo Bar in the Barcelona's Boqueria market were as addicting as the fries at Cafe Presse. Crispy and crunchy and perfect paired with a glass of wine, fresh grilled veggies from the market and Spanish olives. Pinoxto is the kind of place that looks like a stand-up food stall, but serves up food that would easily rival Alice Waters'.

Fish is good. Fish in far off places is better.

Coffee Crisis Averted & Travel Vignette Comes to Mind

2009-04-13T21:34:00.000-07:00

After waking up feeling and like I had a paper bag over my head, I walked into the kitchen to discover that we'd finished our last bag of Guatemalan &Cafe coffee. This was really disturbing for a moment; &Cafe is one of my traveling discoveries and I am only able to procure it when I visit Guatemala a couple times a year. That said, I'm not convinced that &Cafe is anything better than the equivalent of Starbucks, but it's from Guatemala and that's the part I like. When I finish a dose of it, my last trip to Guatemala is really over. Luckily, my disappointment faded when I realized that our fresh bag of Blue Bottle arrived yesterday. There's nothing like opening the mailbox and have coffee fumes waft out at you. Lovely! Thanks to my *very* smart cousins, we're getting six months of Blue Bottle as a birthday gift. Phew.

This month's coffee is Bella Donovan: A "wild and citrusy organic Ethiopian paired with earthy organic Sumatrian makes for a vivid and fairly complex Mokka/Java blend." And here comes the travel vignette. The Ethiopian blend got me thinking about the best cup (OK, cups and cups, I was there for weeks) of coffee I ever had was in Ethiopia. I think the best cup I had was in Gondar - known as "Africa's Camelot" - overlooking the town with its castles softly lit in the morning light. Illuminated, smoke from the home fires was rising in tendrils above the ancient buildings, donkeys were bleating and children yelling in the streets. It was old, foreign and familiar all at once. And the aroma and taste of that cup has stuck with me all these months later.

Ethiopians have a very proper process - actually a ceremony - each and every time they make coffee. And that's at every meal. The wealthier the family, the more "glamorous" the ceremony. Restaurants, hotels, cafes--they all do it.

First, a young woman dressed in a white gown roasts green coffee beans over a small wood-fueled brazier, frankincense is burning and juniper branches adorn the area. Then, the freshly roasted beans are passed around the room or table and each guest wafts the scent towards their face. The beans are promptly grounded with a traditional mortar and pestle before being boiled in a jebena. The jebena is a earthenware vessel that is used to boil (it is boiled and transferred twice) and pour the coffee into the finjal, or small espresso-like cups--it's filtered with some sort of animal hair filter. The result is amazing. Fresh, really dark, steaming hot coffee. Can I go back to Ethiopia yet? At least I have my Blue Bottle tomorrow morning.
*Blue Bottle Logo thanks to www.bluebottlecoffee.net.

A Few Cool Spots

2009-04-12T22:32:00.000-07:00

From time to time I stay at a really amazing camp, lodge or hotel that reminds me how difficult it is to create a place that can be a home-away-from-home while submersing its guests in the local environment or creating an atmosphere that is simply none other than magical. Here are a few of my favorite camps and lodges that do just that.

Ni'Tun Rese rv e and Retreat is a tiny lodge (just 4 casitas) that rests on the edge of Lago Peten Itza in Guatemala's lush jungles. The casitas are simple, but well-appointed with jacuzzi tubs in some, hammocks in others and local art, fabrics and fresh fruit in all. The cuisine is not typical Guatemalan, but international and inventive: apple sauce pork chops, fresh garlic shrimp or perfectly cooked chicken in a tarragon sauce. Hot, strong coffee is poured in the morning and award-winning Zacapa rum at night. Ni'Tun caters not only to adventurers creature comforts, but offers a space where travelers can sit and think, write or draw and reflect on the reasons they travel in the first place.

On the other side of the world in Tanzania, Kisima Ngeda looks out over another lake--Lake Eyasi. Lined with pelicans and flamingos and skirted by the Rift Valley Escarpment, Lake Eyasi is a sight to behold. Kisima Ngeda Tented Camp is one of the few places where you can rest in simple luxury on the edge of the lake. With just seven canvas and palm-thatched tents, the camp is intimate. Each tent is comfortable with cozy linens, attached bathrooms with hot water showers and a private veranda overlooking the lake. Thanks to the Argentine owner, the wine and food are comforting and tasty in the middle of the African bush. One of the highlights of a stay at Kisima Ngeda is a trip to the nearby Datoga and Hadzabe tribes. After a demanding jaunt (read: run!) through the bush on a hunt with the Hadzabe, there's nothing better than heading back to camp to sip a cold beer, feet in the pool!

In Peru lots of large chain hotels have over-run quaint colonial towns and remote historical sites, but the Urubamba V illas are the antithesis of this. The small enclave of villas rest in the middle of the Urubamba Valley with the Andes on either side. Each villa features local art, luxurious linens, warm fireplaces and cozy furniture. The villas are reserved by the night and exclusive use means that a group of travelers or a family has a villa all to themselves. Each villa is named after and watched over by a local Quechua woman who prepares your traditional meals and pisco sours. Staying at the Urubamba Villas allows travelers to get an inside peak at this often busy region, while staying in what seems to be your best friend's holiday home.

*Urubamba Villas photo courtesy of Inkaterra

Why is packing so fun?

2009-04-12T21:16:00.000-07:00

I'm famous for packing for a trip weeks, maybe even months before I head out the door. Usually, the more excited I am about the upcoming adventure, the earlier I pack. My husband, friends and coworkers all give me a hard time, but I'm set in my ways. Packing for a trip means that I'm about to venture off to somewhere new or return to one of my favorite places.

On my next adventure, I'm attending Africa's largest trade show, INDABA, visiting South Africa's Sabi Sand Reserve, Botswana and the Zambian side of Victoria Falls. I'll be visiting new places and experiencing some of the best wildlife viewing in Africa. My dilemma: fitting two week's worth of professional trade show attire and safari gear into a carry-on bag. Usually, I lug a huge rolling duffel with me filled with gifts for friends and lots of space to bring home my finds (coffee: Rift Valley Coffee, &Cafe, Nairobi Java House, clothes: The Village Market, Rapsodia, or cool, handmade local jewelry), but on this trip I want to travel light so I can make the most of my day-long layover in London and easily meet the baggage restrictions for my light aircraft flights between camps in Botswana. I found a sturdy, compact rolling duffel at Eddie Bauer for under $70! The bag has lots of pockets and two separate compartments--one for my business clothes and one for my safari gear. And, of course, I've already tested the bag out and packed for my trip in May.

Packing is a game, of sorts. I try to fit as much as I can into the smallest space--leaving room to bring things home. Hint: If you can travel with clothes that you don't need to come home with, leave them behind and use the extra space for souvenirs. There are women in Africa wearing my tennis shoes and mountain guides in Patagonia with a few seasons' old North Face fleece.

Over the years, I've learned a few ways to maximize space and cut a few corners.

1) Become a fan of quick-dry fabrics and travel with less. ExOfficio is one of my favorite makers. They make quick-dry shirts and pants (that are stylish and flattering!), as well as underwear and a new eco-friendly, soy-based line. Pack biodegradable liquid soap, and washing your clothes at the lodge is easy and quick.

2) Always wear your must-haves on the plane: hiking boots, jacket, glasses--anything you can't easily and comfortably replace if your checked luggage is lost or delayed. This also leaves more room in your bag for less-bulky items.

3) Don't take what you can buy when you get there. Shampoo, snacks, hats, sandals can be purchased locally in many destinations - any sometimes you'll buy those things anyway, so why take extra?

So what did I end up with? A couple of pairs of neutral-colored slacks for the conference, three pairs of quick-try safari pants, a skirt, several long-sleeve quick-dry shirts and a couple of tank tops. My swimming suit, all-terrain trail shoes, a pair of comfortable heels, a wanna-be pashmina wrap for evenings out or cocktails around the fire, a small toiletries bag (staying in 4 & 5* hotels means I'll have soap and shampoo in my room daily), a couple pairs of socks and three pairs of quick-dry underwear (I can wash a pair in the sink and it will be dry by morning).

My "personal item" is a good-sized canvas tote from the Gap that I'll put my smaller camera bag, iPod and books in.

I think I've got everything I need, now I just have to wait a few weeks until I get to find out for sure...