Rustler's Valley, Free State, South Africa

I've always been very lucky in my travels. I like to think that it's the aura I project or my Guardian Angel.

This story is no different.  How I got there is a long story, a compilation of events.  For months now, I had been told by different people that I would enjoy this particular music festival, the Rustler's Valley Easter  Festival.  I was thinking : "Yeah, yeah!, It's too far and too expensive for me."

I had been lucky to be living in Eshowe, Kwa/Zulu-Natal for a few weeks now when I bumped into a British girl who I had met in Zimbabwe a few months prior.  She told me that I could work there, at the festival, in exchange for a free entry to the 4-day festival. She knew the British guy who owned one of the four bar/stages, the Comet Stage,  around the venue.  I got hold of him and secured myself a job at his bar and a free entree to the music festival.  Next I spent a few days at a friend of a friend's house in Durban. He lent me his sleeping bag. (I had none!) His roommate drove me to the first town, starting me on the long bus (buses) journey that took me eventually to the festival site. 

I arrived there, found and met the British guy I was to work for. I still had no place to stay. I walked around and found myself at the only part of the 4-day festival, that was almost set-up. There I ran into a musician friend (I was working in a music venue in Capetown) who invited me to stay in his tipi, along with 2 of his friends. The best part was that the Tipi Village (it's official name), was a commune and the food was free. One only had to cook a meal for the group (9 people, I think) once.  It was the hippy-est part of the venue and home to the Drum Circle. 

Along with the Comet Stage, a place for musician to jam, there was the World Stage, where , you've guessed it, international bands and more "serious" South African bands would perform, the  Future's Field, a trance tent with live DJ and the Drum Circle, where all kinds of djembe drummers would jam, sometimes all night. There was also live performances of all sorts in the main building, and home to the official "Backpacker's". (another name is the Youth Hostel)

For more pictures and info, please check out my Rustler's Valley set on Flickr.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/eleniphotos/sets/72157606657436588/

This picture above is an unintended double exposure. It's a picture taken at the Drum Circle and a pancake stand, on the main "road".  I was major pissed off when I processed the film back in 1998, but now, I find it perfectly reflects the confusion of the festival.

To read more on how I got there, please read this previous entry:
http://elenisworld.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-pool-shark.html

Morocco

Morocco in 1990 & the Morocco now are worlds apart! Still every bit as exotic & mystical though but much less daunting for the Westerner.

On my first visit, with my travel buddy Sara, we arrived for the beginning of Ramadan, the month-long fast, a bit weary, but excited, about our new adventure destination. Since we came from mainland Spain, we took a ferry from Algeciras to Ceuta. (Ceuta being the portion that still belonged to Spain.)
On the bus that transported us from the pier to the town, our troubles already started. Unknown to us, the fight for our "business" had already started between the Moroccans  going back home for the Ramadan.

The next day, we made it, on our own, across the "border" into Morocco.  We took a shared taxi, along with 4 others plus the driver! Yes, that's right, 6 passengers! We were squashed in the back with 2 others, with loud music blasting. We were in a very unfamiliar setting, looking at each other thinking: "OMG,  what did we get ourselves into this time?" We were so naive!
So many details in our week-long adventure in Morocco. (It's all we could afford.) I'm writing it all in details in my book but here's what stood out:
-  Hamed's American name, given to him by an American. The name? He told us proudly: Jack Daniels!
-  On the bus, hearing the language, we thought that everybody was upset at one another.
-  Having my first Moroccan "whiskey"! It's an overly sweet mint tea.
-  Being followed up & down the streets of Tetouan.
-  The first time I had a "toke". It gave me nightmares! I was fully awake, sitting on my bed & I could still see a humongous tarantula on the ceiling!
-  Giving all of our money to the bus' conductor for him to exchange  and watch him disappear into the village's souk.  In the end, he came back with all our money sorry that he couldn't find the exchange man! (my Guardian Angel is GOOD!)

I returned, on my own this time, 15 years later & my experience was totally different. On my visit in 2005, I quickly made some new friends. They took me to many different parts of their country. Places with lush green vegetation & vervet monkeys (Ouzoude's falls, breathtaking!), a magical kashba (Ait-Ben-Haddou), the famous city of Ouarzazate (where a lot of film were made) & a few villages on the edge of the Sahara desert! I even took a short trek on a camel's back in the Sahara! Total silence.....until my friend's cell phone rang! Umf!
I learned that any local can get fined & go to jail for being with a foreigner, even if that foreigner is a friend! One needs to get a permit from the police. I experienced that in Fez, staying with a family & being taken around. On subsequent visits, I spent much time in Essaouira, going to Marrakesh, trekking in Essaouira's surrounding mountains, learning Moroccan arabic  and tried to blend in as much as I could into this magical country.
Morocco remains one of my favorite country.

Here, on the picture, Lahtifa is making melouis. It's a corn crepe, delicious with butter and honey. I'm drooling just thinking about it!

I'm still protected!

Very recently (last month) I went to back to Trinidad, my "home" country. Lots of great new adventures but this is not why I'm writing.
From Canada, going to Trinidad is a long trip which includes arriving in Port-of-Spain at odd hours. Therefore I chose to spend a night in Miami to arrive in Trinidad's capital at a decent hour.

So, after landing in Miami, I was looking for the hotel information desk. The airport is HUGE and to my experience, not with clear indications. I had been walking all over, been sent from 1 floor to the next, for about 1 hour when my running shoe's (sneaker) sole came  undone. "Shit!" I said. "A good start to the trip!"  I found a leather-coated bench to sit on to "repair" my flopping sole. I took my bag off my back and placed next to me. I took a chewing gum, chewed it and "fixed" my sole. I got up, found the information desk. Chatted with the information man and phoned my chosen hotel to get their free shuttle to come and pick me up. I, then, waited outside for the shuttle to arrive impatient  and starving. 15-20 minutes passes by, still no shuttle. "Shit!" I said again.
I got up to go phone again inside. It is then that I realized that I didn't have my red bag on my back anymore. I thought: "Man! They are good! I can't believe someone stole my bag already! No one was even near me. How come did it happen? ...Where was my Guardian Angel?"
I decided to go back to see the info guy and ask him if he remembered seeing me with my red bag on my back. It was walking through  the revolving doors that I remembered that when I sat down on the bench, I took my bag off and put it on the bench. I headed straight to the bench. My bag was STILL there! It happened to be in front of a concierge (the airport is so big that it has a fancy hotel!) and there was a security guard next to my bag. I walked to it, breathing better suddenly, not believing that I was so stupid, me a seasoned traveller,  to forget my bag on a bench! The security guard asked me:" Is that your bag?" "yes" "Can you tell me what's in it before opening it?" "You are lucky." he said. "I have called the canines to check it out."  I had nothing of value in it, apart from my newish Ipod, but had all my cameras (those who know me know they are plastic and/or lensless, therefore inexpensive.) and all my films.
I thought: "I'm glad that we are in the 21st century so everybody is scared of a bag left unattended at an airport."
I left with my bag, thanking my Guardian Angel and relieved to know that I'm still protected.

Hwange National Park

One of my wishes when I was a kid was to see African animals in their natural environment. I was in a hostel in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe, when I met someone who made my wish come true. He had the bakkie (truck, 4x4), the tent, all the camping equipment & was looking for someone to share the costs with.  I quickly said: "Yes, please!". 

We spent 7-8 days in Hwange National Park & 1 day visiting the Victoria Falls. (Mosi-oa-Tunya, in the local language.)

Every morning, we made a "safari" on the trails of the park and spend a couple of nights deep inside the park. 

One time, our bakkie staled in the middle of lion territory. Scary My friend took a knife & bravely walked to last night's camping ground, were he was sure we would get help. I remained in the 4x4, the door open (it was SO hot!), eyes & ears on the look out for potential danger. I though: "Well, if there's a lion, I just close the door & I'll be ok.....but what if it's an elephant? I'm screwed! It can easily smash the truck up if it fancied, with me in it. Oh, God, I hope he returns soon with help." Eventually, all went well as I'm here writing about it all.  On that occasion, like many others, we came back to main camp a bit late & were told off by the guard. 

There's nothing scarier than when you find yourself alone in the ablution block (next to the said fence!) and hear a lion roar close by (it sounded like it was just next to me!) when you know that a flimsy wire fence separates us from the wild. "What do I do if it comes close? I close the door. Shit! It's just a screen door and it's ripped. OMG!" 

Or coming face to face with a hyena in the dark.  It's wicked laugh is bone chilling.

Or being fake-charged by a huge one-tusk elephant bull. "Wait! Wait! I want a closer picture!" I said."Forget it!" my friend quickly replied with fear in his eyes.

Or, on the tamer side, seeing a chameleon on a branch nearby, doing it's signature walk. "Do I go forward? Or I go backwards."

Still there is nothing more exhilarating either. 

Finally, I was in the Africa of my dreams!

Tree house in the Mozambican jungle.

Mac & his dog in front of part of his tree house. Moz 1997.

Me staying at an out-of-town hotel on the border town of Zimbabwe, called Mutare, led me to spend 7 days in a tree house in the middle of the Mozambican jungle. Stuff one only dream of but, on that day, it really happened to me.
This man called Mac, was giving me a lift into town when he asked if I wanted to spend 7 days in Mozambique. What anyone in their right mind would say? "Yes!", I said excitedly. What else would I say?
I stayed in one of his spare bedrooms, up the main tree. (The house was built on 2-3 trees & a big wooden fence to keep the wild animals out.) I remember vividly my first night, up in the bar, sipping a glass of Amarula with the bushbabies (monkey-like animal that makes a sound like a crying baby.) and a distant drumming & chanting of a village nearby, a multitude of stars glowing in the night sky.
I couldn't feel more in Africa than this!

With day visits to nearby towns of Chimoio & Gondola or visit to local tobacco farmers, I was kept busy. All this traveling was always done before the sunset. It was that dangerous that Mac kept a loaded gun under his bakkie (truck) seat!

We had one adventure that I'll remember for a long time to come! We were ridding on a bush trail to get to a good fishing spot when we encountered tree trunks blocking the road. We were a bit apprehensious because the rebels are are known for using this tecnique to ambush cars & trucks. Nothing happened except for the most venomous spider in Mozambique. A tiny spider with a white body. Brrr! It stayed on the outside windshield, on the driver's side, Thank God! I was staring at it the whole time we were stopped. I was thinking of a plan in case it moved.
Here's what went through my mind at the time:
Screaming was out of the question (I'm too proud!)
Opening my door to go where? I open the door straight into the jungle! The jungle up-close look scary!
Nor was closing the windows, it was way too hot & humid.
Besides, it is not recommended to stray from the well trodden paths as the country is still full of land mines.
In the end, we got to the fishing spot. He gave me a line & told me to catch a fish. He was going to a bigger river. I caught a fish minutes after he told me to!

I'll never forget that week!

Strawberry picking in Norway

Sara & I decided to go fruit picking in Norway, mainly on a whim.  We had heard from a friend that it was not only possible but also could be good money.
Having  no money, we decided to hitchhike there. The easiest way was to hitch to Newcastle-Upon-Tyne and take a ferry across to Bergen.  When we got there, after many  adventures, (like sleeping on someone's  living room floor in Newcastle.), we found out that it was too expensive.  We hung out at the  docks 1-2 days in the hope of someone offering us a passage. No luck.

We hitch back down to London, spent one night in someone else's living room floor, we made our way to Norway via  Belgium, Holland, Germany, Denmark, Sweden to finally arrive in Oslo early evening.
We met other hitch-hikers who were on their way to celebrate the Berlin Wall coming down, with Pink Floyd performing. However tempted we were, we quickly had to rid ourselves of that idea as we were broke and continue with our original plan of finding work in Norway.
Thinking of sleeping on the floor of the train station,  we found out that the station was closing for the night. Too cold to sleep outside & too broke to sleep in a youth hostel. We were trying to find plan B when a young Somalian/Ethiopian student, called Aabi, overheard us & offered us to stay in his apartment.

The next day, we hopped on a train to the rural areas where we could find fruit picking work.
After a full day of fruitless (no pun intended) search for a job, we were just looking for a place to sleep as it was dark already. The strawberry season had started 2 weeks earlier and all the jobs were taken by Polish workers.
We knocked on a door and eventually the family offered us their living room floor for the night. The next morning, we were told that the grand-father wanted to meet us. He was also living on the land. Despite the fact that he didn't speak much English & us no Norwegian, we had a fun breakfast all 3 of us.  He even gave us a backgammon travel board for the road. To this day, the backgammon game is in Sara's kitchen.
Soon after we were on our way to Bergen.
Photo of Tony, the grand-father.  Egge farm in Lier, Norway. July 1990.

Hawaii

How I ended up in Hawaii is quite a story.

Sara had convinced me to go to Australia with her (I was easily convinced!). Since we were flying from Los Angeles, USA, we took a 4days & 4nights  bus trip from Montreal to LA. Many adventures along the way. We stopped to sleep in Chicago, Las Vegas (but we didn't get much sleep there!) and Denver. Our flight included a 2 days stop-over in Hawaii.

On the plane to Hawaii, we met 2 other Canadian girls. We hooked up. We arrived at the Honolulu's airport quite late and found all the youth hostels and B&B full or not answering their phone.

Our plan of action, was to spend the night at the airport. Meanwhile, all the other tourists were being escorted to an hotel by a hotels rep with a limousine. Pretty soon, all that was left at the airport was us 4.

The rep was adamant in not leaving us at the airport. He gave us such a good deal that could not be refused. He brought us in his limo to an expensive-looking hotel to our own suite with a balcony with a view to a beautiful beach in Waikiki!

The next day, we separated in 2s and hitch-hiked to stunning Waimanolo beach. There we met (thanks to Sara's bad cigarette habit!) 2 local lads who took us to Hanauma Bay beach to snorkle (with their gear) with all those tropical fish  and a promise to take all 4 of us to a local restaurant for brunch the next morning! All free of charge and no strings attached! That evening, we all went to a local discotheque. Partied all night .The next day, I slept like a baby during the entire 6h flight to Fiji! I had never managed to sleep on a plane before that.

Talk about starting a trip well!

This drawing is made by me. More details in my up-coming book.