%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
Day 25 Marrakech, Morocco At the crack of dawn I rose from my bed, no, wait, at dawn I fell from my bed and cracked my head. What am I saying? Sigh. At dawn, I flew high in the sky. A red Marrakech Dream balloon lifted me up and away. The earth dropped far below and I greeted a new day. My worries were left stranded on the ground. My hopes soared and billowed with a whooshing sound. I dared not breathe or blink. Bursting sun caused shadows to sink. Red sand glistened, palm trees waved, how many photos did I save? Apres flight I dined on fresh fruit, naan and tea. An authentic meal for a Berber belly. In outdoor Marrakech markets I next rambled and browsed. A warren of bustling, teeming souks did abound. Aromatic spices tickled my nose. My eyes feasted upon rainbow hued clothes. Woven baskets, leather bags were offered as wares, but the gorgeous rich rugs vied for my stares. Thanks Lyn's a Witchy Woman  , another win, a fascinating , fun expedition! |
| Day 24 NOUAKCHOTT, MAURITANIA Okay, now I find myself wandering on the west coast of Africa in and around Nouakchott, Mauritania a deep water Atlantic port on the Sahara Desert. Talk about a contrast, an ocean and a desert. This is the place of the winds. I for one would not appreciate a sandstorm. I notice the heat as I explore. I embark upon a private tour with my fellow bloggers and we are escorted to the site of a humongous masque. Not being of the Muslim persuasion I am not permitted to enter, so the interior remains a mystery. This structure is probably visible from the air and prominent on a satellite image. I happily meander and browse at the Galerie Zeinart where my eyes feast upon all manner of creative endeavours from local artists and artisans. There's a wealth of paintings, carvings, pottery, jewellery and clothing. Everything blazes with vibrant colour. It emanates joy. How big is my virtual souvenir bag? There are no customs worries, right? Well, today I visited a site that is definitely a first for me, The Bay of Nouadhibou Ship Graveyard. Yes, immense, towering hulks of rusting, listing and creaking ships have been abandoned here to die. Instead of being stripped in a legal and environmentally responsible manner, these sea-faring vessels are left to decay. Apparently, their owners find this cheaper and far more expedient than dismantling. It's a shame. Rusting metal is alien to sparkling green water and crashing waves. This is a beauty and the beast sight. Despite man's blatant disregard for the environment, the fish and marine life have embraced these rotting hulks as new habitats. Locals have also spawned a salvage industry. Small blessings... Hmm, I never anticipated rough-stone libraries in the Sahara Desert either, what a surprise. In Chinguetti, once a thriving trading post, people accumulated ancient manuscripts and saved them. Many are fragile parchment rolled within bamboo tubes. Those that do infrequently handle them wear gloves and precede cautiously. The dry desert air has aided in their preservation, but sand is also a corrosive. Many date back to medieval times and are Quranic documents. Obviously, a borrower's program does not exist. I cannot imagine a book so aged and fragile it might disintegrate in my hands. Everyone relaxed at Al Fantasia Restaurant and shook sand from their clothing. We were extremely parched and after chugging copious amounts of refreshing water, we indulged in pots of tea. Locals had promised us a mint variety and it proved tasty as advertised. I've never dined at an establishment that provided soft, comfy pillows such as those here. I might have been too comfortable. If they were proffered to induce relaxation, they succeeded! Oh, the smells that wafted past my nose and teased saliva from my agape mouth...The chicken tagine melted in my mouth with a spicy tang. I am now a fan of Moroccan cooking. Alas, this stellar eating establishment did not offer carry-out service forcing me to waddle away under my own power. |
| Day 23 Johannesburg, South Africa Here I am in the largest city in South Africa, Johannesburg, or Jozi as locals refer to it. All that is here resulted from a gold rush in 1886. Opprtunists from everywhere descended upon the City of Gold and led to the designation of South Africa as a rainbow nation. South Africa's other claim to fame is its past history of apartheid and this is represented at the Apartheid Museum. To enter, purchasers are randomly given tickets that assign them a designation as White, or Non-White. They are then directed to pass through the 'correct' door, one for Blankes/Whites and the other for Nie Blankes/Non-Whites. This is a reminder of the not so distant past. Other signage is displayed that indicates the segregation practices at rest rooms and public trsnsportation hubs. I cannot fathom the issuance of government identification with one's race prominently recorded on it. The width of a nose, the kinks in hair, the size of lips, the skin pigmentation and the language spoken determined racial profiling. As if! The government could also reverse their race decisions. Mind boggling! This was considered important? In the museum's courtyard, I could not ignore the stark stone pillars each with a single word that reflects the new South African constitution. Uplifting , powerful words such as respect, responsibility, freedom, democracy and equality. South Africans struggled to overthrow apartheid and they do not hide its former existence. "Humanity was born in Africa. All people, ultimately, are African." I've only ever known Canadian privilege. My skin colour , the language I choose to speak, the type of hair on my head, my nose shape, my eye shade, and my heritage have never barred me from entering any establishment, or persuing any career or travel opportunities. I salute and respect those who sought, no demanded change. |
| Day 22 Cape Town Okay, today I slowed down. Yesterday's ramblings were intense. I decided to stop and smell the roses, so I visited the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. Wow! Strolling amongst all things lush and thriving is peaceful. I inhaled deeply and let the atmosphere envelop me. Amazing sculptures greeted me to stop and stare. Creative people never fail to awe me. I discovered a fascinating bit of steel and timber I could not resist, the Canopy Walkway. This is brilliant! A sculptural walkway / bridge inspired by the skeleton of a snake wrapped in among a forest. No wonder it has a nickname of "boomslang", tree snake. This marvel snakes its way through tree canopy up to 12 metres above the ground. I meandered amongst and above tree branches. The green blanketed me. Feeling revived, I chose to embark upon a short hike along the Stinkwood Trail. The name spoke to me. I marveled at the immense surviving three cape chestnut trees. They are far more impressive than the chestnut trees in the front yard of my childhood home. Alas, the native trees were victims of heavy deforestation. I learned that the stinkwood is now a protected tree. It had been harvested for furniture timber. It is considered an evergreen and also known as the cape walnut or cape laurel. The nickname arose from the discovery that a fresh felled tree emitted a strong odour. The indigenous strip the bark for traditional medecine. Where I reside, birch bark suffers the same fate. Leaving the beautiful gardens I returned to the luxury five-star hotel, The Silo. What an unusual name for a first class establishment, but the site once housed old grain silos. There is nothing agricultural about it! It sits above the Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa which is temporarily closed. My room is airy, spacious and sumptuous with stunning cityscape views. I opt to lounge in the spectacular rooftop pool. It is like soaking and swimming with the horizon. I believe this is an infinity pool. Few walls or barriers contain the water. This is the life! Lyn's a Witchy Woman I am spoiled. |
| Day 21 Cape Town, South Africa Whew, day 21! The one-month virtual trek continues. It's all such a whirlwind. What's that lovely saying? I'll rest when I'm dead? There's no time for second or third winds. There's so much to see. Cape Town South Africa is beautiful. Everywhere I venture is set against gorgeous turquoise coastal water and towering mountains. Looming sturdy palm trees sway in the balmy breeze. Bo-kaap appears as a bright burst of rainbow hues, pinks, blues, greens, yellows and mauves. The buildings boast these happy colours and they remind me of the similarly painted homes in Newfoundland. I strolled through the cobblestoned streets of Bo-kaap smiling at the bold, vivid explosions of colour. Drabness is banished here. I enjoyed a cuppa in an historic school. Everything felt charming. Wow, Camp's Bay Beach has earned its reputation as the Beverly Hills of Cape Town. I sauntered in awe along a pristine white beach and marveled at that stunning turquoise water framed by an azure sky. There is such a contrast between the rugged rocky mountains and the sand and surf. Without hesitation, I waded in that inviting water and laughed at the sunbathing seagulls. Although tempted, I did not succumb to the lure of a massage on the beach even though a sign beckoned me with this tantalizing offer. If I'd relented and enjoyed a massage, I'd have stayed right there too relaxed to move in any possible manner to continue the tour. Sigh, a tourist is always on the move searching for that next jaw-dropping view. Cameras must be escorted to all the best locales. I hopped onto a sightseeing boat to motor out to Duiker Island where I was rewarded with the incredible sight of a seal hang-out. Above the steady crashing of the white caps, the multitude of seals barked. Were they greeting us, or shouting at us to leave them alone? Whatever their expectations, these sleek seals entertained us with diving, splashing, swimming and even sunbathing. They reminded me of bored teenagers hanging out together and trying to find amusements. The winding ascent of Chapman's Peak Drive offered breathtaking views of that ever present sparkling ocean. One rock formation resembled a crouching ape, or at least I thought it did. The tunnels that we passed through reminded me of similar tunnels in the Rockies in British Columbia. They are intended to offer safety should an avalanche occur. At the stunning summit, I meandered about Noordhoek Farm Village which caters to discerning tourists. I savoured ice cream as I people watched. Brave energetic souls cycled up this mountain road to congregate at the top. I recognized and snapped a pic of an amazing red amaryllis. This is a quaint oasis, but I had more exploring to do. Next on my agenda was a tour of Cape Point Ostrich Farm. At this breeding site, I snuggled a squirmy, fuzzy baby ostrich with unique markings on its head and long neck. Its eyelashes sparked my envy. It is an ugly/cute creature. The adults strut about on their powerful long legs flexing their heavily-feathered wings. No one suggested I hitch a ride on an ostrich and I didn't bring it up. I'm still recovering from the camel experience. The ostrich barely blinked as I waved farewell. My next stop took me to Table Mountain and the Cape Point Nature Reserve where I hiked, climbed, and 'cable-carred it.' At one point, I slowly ascended a steep set of stone steps. How tourist friendly. Wow, the vistas are stunning here. From the lighthouse built in 1860, the panorama is awesome. Apparently, this building did not prevent many shipwrecks because it sits too high and cannot be seen in foggy or cloudy weather. Now it is a focal point. Bold Baboons roam freely. Some decide to perch atop vehicles. Some recline next to tourists. Boulders Beach is aptly named. Boulders are strewn about as if tossed. Via a series of wooden walkways, I am able to slip in amongst the throng of tuxedo-coated penguins. How punk-rockish, they sport a bright pink slash above their eyes. When not diving, they too sunbathe on the rocks and the sand. Their gait is distinctive, a waddle. I amble about this way in the winter, shuffling in short steps praying I do not slip and tumble. Um, I wonder if some of the penguins attempt to escape their beach paradise and go awol. Do they enjoy playing hide and seek? I noticed a large sign with this lettering. WARNING Please look under your vehicles for penguins. Could I appear convincing when I insist that the penguin in our tour van is a single-minded stowaway and not a poor kidnap victim? Um, er, sorry, I forgot to check under the vehicle. The little fella must have slipped in when I wasn't looking. You do know he is a flightless bird, right? How else is he supposed to travel? |
| Day 20 The Last Of Lesotho We experienced the local atmosphere during this morning's hike. We didn't so much soak it up, as it soaked us. Yep, we stumbled along in the dense, damp fog. We revisited Maletsunyane Falls with daytime eyes. Sure, we'd been offered a jeep ride, but it feels great to stretch the legs and attempt to hop over the rough ground instead of jostling over it. Sigh, the boulders, stones, pebbles, rocks are everywhere. The locals must have sturdy ankles. There's nothing like the roar and mist of a waterfall. Power emanates here. It's the stuff of folklore and mystery. The mountains appear to be a fuzzy green. Not for the first time today we nod and smile in greeting as we encounter herders ambling along with their sheep or cattle. I'm not a hat person despite residing where snow blankets the ground for half the year. The locals are often out and about with knitted caps covering their ears. To each their own.Now I prefer to swath myself in some sort of jacket and not a distinctive, gorgeous blanket worn as a shawl or poncho. I like the idea of its versatility and having my arms free. The ominous looking snakes at Snake Park cause me to shudder in revulsion. Yuck! Despite reassurances that it was harmless, I did not wish to touch the Commom Brown Water Snake. Perhaps it's the unblinking stare and its propensity to slither, but it did not appeal to me. I suppose snakes love this area.The rock formations create plenty of nooks and crannies. (Internet and tablet issues. Grr! This is it, a short post. I also had problems accessing sites for research today. This last bit is created with my cell phone.) |
Day 19 Lesotho, South Africa We are still exploring the Lesotho countryside. Today, I stumbled to a riverbed to stare in awe at the largest footprints I have ever seen. In the sandstone preserved for centuries, 57 cm. long prints hint at the possible enormous size of a dinosaur. Scientists believe this is proof of a theropod bigger than any previously thought. It has been dubbed the "kayentapus ambrokholohali" with the Sesotho words ""kholo" meaning big and "hali" meaning very. Many tourists opt to recline next to a footprint for a perspective pic. The thought of a creature that immense roaming this land is mind-boggling. My next foray took me to Kome Caves to see a cluster of five smooth, curved, adobe huts similar in appearance to igloos. They resemble large grey pieces of stone pottery tucked under a giant , sheltering rock overhang. Mature green trees provide shade and a tumble of boulders provide a low wall of security. People still reside here, swathed in the traditional wool blanket for warmth. They sit on adobe-formed benches, or chairs. At one end, a "kraal" has been built from tree branches for the cattle. Huh, "kraal" is similar to "corral." This is one way to deal with the heat of the summer. My fellow bloggers and I returned to Thaba Bosiu for another hike to the summit. The stunning vista is one of expansive azure sky, rocks, rocks, and more rocks, plus patches of emerald green. I can envision this spot as a fortress. We ventured into the largest city and the capital of Lesotho, Maseru. The first thing I noticed was the traffic congestion and the drivers proceeding in the wrong direction aka British style. The steady thrum of vehicles pierced the air. Typical city buildings blotted the skyline. Maseru is Sesotho for "red sandstones." One building is named The Basotho Hat and it resembles the indigenous straw hat. We strolled through a bustling, colourful market bulging with all manner of wares. Voices rang out in greeting and bartering squeezed into conversations. Feeling famished, our weary group chose to dine at the Sky Restaurant perched atop Mallo Boutique Hotel. Wow, the mountain views through the floor to ceiling windows were stunning. The local trout meal tasted delicious especially since I did not have a hand in capturing it. To round out our spectacular day of sightseeing we visited the Maletsunayne Falls at Semonkong. This is another wow sight. A straight, single drop waterfall cascades from a collar of lofty rock walls brushed with a velvety green into a gorge studded with more rock. The hazy mist has been described as smoky and thus the name Semonkong which translates to place of smoke. A brilliant fiery red and orange sunset illuminated the horizon with its glow. Glowing ourselves with the beauty we had witnessed, we piled back into our 4x4 bracing for a jostling return ride to our hotel. We anticipated a night cap of some sort on the terrace. What is that saying about best laid plans? No amount of planning prepared us for what transpired. Had we signed on to camp , or rough it in the wild? Not since freezing Antarctica had we stayed out under the stars. Our guides insisted that hiking 'out" could not be an option. They reminded us that the terrain was rocky. Yep, we had certainly seen our fair share of boulders. With resigned shrugs and sighs, we accepted our temporary plight. A disabled, bawking vehicle was just a glitch. We would make a camp, hunker down ,and wait for the morning and a rescue. We could be flexible, right? At our guides' prodding and armed with a flashlight, Lyn's a Witchy Woman , Apondia  and I set forth, but not too far from the vehicle, in search of firewood. Even with the bright beam, we stumbled about. Struggling with armloads of branches, we couldn't help but grin in triumph when we dropped them back at our overnight stop. 💙 Carly  , WakeUpAndLive️~🚬🚭2024  , and Prosperous Snow celebrating  had created a ring of stones for the campfire. Determined to spark some kind of flame, we relied upon our aboriginal training gleaned in the Outback. We rubbed two sticks together and the guides watched bemused. Gasping with the effort ,we nodded an okay when one young man produced that modern marvel the match. We'd tried. Lighting a fire no matter by what method was the main objective. Soon , we were rewarded with a roaring campfire. We each chose a boulder to lean against and we snuggled into our Basotho blankets. The creeping cold could not touch us. Apondia pointed out the shimmering constellations in the clear sky. Our guides produced an accordion and a makeshift drum created from a plastic pail strung with metal washers. They proceeded to serenade us. We had music. We had warmth. We had good company. We laughed as we mispronounced Sesotho lyrics. In return, we sang a few of our traditional campfire songs. Who says a glitch cannot be fun? Hey, we're the squawkers and squidders. We can deal with some rocks and rough sleepin'. ( OOPS! I forgot to address the disgusting issue of cannibalism. There, I've made my thoughts clear! No, I cannot comprehend eating a person, no matter how hungry I am. Did some people dine upon others seeking power and immortality? I do not know. YUCK! Were there recipes?) |
| Day 18 Lesotho, South Africa Whew! Is it me, or was that a looong flight from Tanzania? I recall a blur of green. Newly released from a plane, I hopped into a 4x4 vehicle to ascend the Sani Pass. OMG! This should be dubbed the Sanity Pass. My fellow travellers and I were jostled about on the gravel / dirt single lane track. I'm sure we could have climbed quicker on foot, but it is rough and I imagine dangerous for sprained ankles at least. The vehicle climb proceeded at a sedate upward pace. We sloshed through a few shallow streams and kicked up clods of mud. I heard the engine whine a bit, or was that us? This "road" was once a treacherous animal track and I believe it hasn't improved much. It is steep and rough with plenty of hairpin turns and switchbacks to traverse. Staring out the window, I gasped at the sheer drops. Not one crash barrier existed. Did I mention the heavy fog that made a clear view impossible? Here and there, I caught glimpses of green and white. Yep, I spied snow. The driver did not seem at all nervous, no tics, or perspiration, or muttered prayers. He kept both hands lightly gripping the steering wheel. He did not engage in idle chitchat. He concentrated on the steep, rugged terrain. We bounced over some rather large rocks that did not impede our progress.Nobody called out. We did not wish to startle our chauffeur. He had our welfare in his hands. At long last I could release my bated breath and rejoice at our arrival in Lesotho, Kingdom of the Sky, the highest country in the world. The fog dissipated enough to showcase our mountainous route. Patches of azure sky welcomed me. I smiled at the quick fluttering of an orange breasted bird. I learned its name, the drakensburg rockjumper. Of course, it jumps rocks. They are everywhere. I welcomed an opportunity to stretch my cramped legs in a hike to the Thabo Bosiu National Monument. Oh, the panoramic views were breathtaking. This summit was once a natural fortress. I walked amongst a replica village of huts. A few locals wore a unique woven straw hat, the mokorotlo. It is quite the sun hat. Women strolled about in beautiful, bright coloured swatches of material. On their heads, they wore equally bright headdresses, or tied scarves. Many people were draped in gorgeous woven woollen tribal blankets. I was told that these blankets are significant to the rites /passages of life. Some represent a new bride, or a young man's initiation into manhood. Some are given as gifts after the birth of a child. The ruling family wears their own custom pattern. No matter,I impulsively purchased a beautiful turquoise blanket. Perhaps I too will wear it as a poncho. The hotel, Bird Haven, is composed of a group of thatched huts, or cottages. These huts are known as rondavels. The lush garden is a serene retreat. I inhale the fresh mountain air and think, I am on top of the world. |
| Day 17 Arusha, Tanzania What a fantastic, original way to greet the new day! At dawn, we gathered in a Serengeti field to witness the awakening of the immense hot air balloons. They stretched and languidly stood upright revealing their bright colours. They billowed and tugged at their anchors, eager to be released. I sipped hot tea as I watched the preparations . The air buzzed with anticipation and I chatted with several fellow adventurers. When at long last we were ready to begin our flights, the smiling crew assisted us to climb into the baskets. We all wore expectant grins and no one dared to blink as the balloons rose into the sky with whooshes and roars. Our ascent felt smooth and effortless. We soared. We glided. We floated. Oh, the sunrise exploded across the sky in an immense burst of gold. Many of us gasped in wonder. Soon we were pointing and staring at the lush green plains below us. Herds of elephants lumbered as one mass. Distinctive zebra kicked up their hooves. Lions stretched out on rocky outcrops. Giraffe trotted about and cavorted. Rhino splashed. Leopards raced. We were suspended in the best aerial seats watching a wildlife theatre in the Serengeti. Now, this is the ultimate safari. Already full of awe, we alit next to a clearing set with tables and chairs for our bush breakie. Pleasantly surprised, I noticed china, glassware, tablecloths, cloth napkins and silverware. This would be unlike any camp meal I'd experienced. There were even friendly attentive servers. All of this in the Serengeti bush? WOW! I returned to the Arusha Serena Hotel and Resort Spa feeling sated. My eyes and stomach had feasted well. I set out to explore this piece of paradise set in a "traditional coffee estate in the majestic environs of snow-capped Mount Kilimanjaro." I strolled through the lush, gorgeous garden overlooking Lake Duluti. Delighted I espied beautiful birds, the African Green Pigeon and the Silver-Cheeked Hornbill. Wishing to sit, relax, and absorb the scenery, I ensconced myself on a terrace and ordered coffee. This is a wondrous setting for quiet contemplation. |
| Day 16 ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA Huh, I like the name of today's hotel, Golden Tulip Addis Ababa. It's different. I had no time to admire or explore it. Our whirlwind tour awaited. Once again, my fellow bloggers and I took to the sky for a short flight to a World Heritage Site in Lalibela. We wandered and climbed amongst the hand carved stone churches created at the behest of a King Lalibela in the twelfth century. I cannot fathom the skill and strength required to create these churches from solid rock. Arches, steps, religious figures and crosses were all hand hewn in a manner that today would be attempted by excavating equipment. Supposedly the King wished to recreate Jerusalem in Ethiopia. Even the nearby river is named Jordan. This site is a testament to human ingenuity. I wonder how many feet have traversed these steps and contributed to their smoothness? How many voices have echoed in the chambers? After our religious reflections, we opted to partake of a secular refreshment. We traipsed with a guide to three different 'tellabet" or beer houses in the nearby village. "Tella" or beer is a local drinking staple brewed in the homes of residents. This beer is fermented in whatever containers can be found such as cans and pots. It is not strained and free of sediment, but this adds to its authentic flavour. Each brew has its own unique tang and each host/hostess smilingly offers us a sample. They are hospitable. I notice the shared cups or tins are not cleansed well after use , but this is part of the charm. On unsteady wobbly legs we re-board our return flight to the hotel. We may have snoozed / snored briefly. We opt to dine at the hotel's restaurant named Spice mainly because it's located on the ground floor and easy to access after our 'busy' day. Many of us order coffee and it's rich and flavourful. With a second wind, we natter and relax. |
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Happy June! May was so fun!
