Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Checking in
Hi folks, we're in Seoul right now, preparing for our flight to Mumbai. We'll be in India & Nepal for the next four weeks, and I'm not counting on having much in the way of internet access.... you may hear relatively little from us, but we'll see. Hopefully at some point I'll have a chance to put up some more posts related to South Africa, Hong Kong & Seoul.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
HK Names
Many people here have English names in addition to their Chinese ones, but what's great is how many names seem to have been inspired by old British civil servants, or are just taken from the Bible.
Here are some I pulled from the Sunday paper--
Enoch Yiu
Agnes Lam
Cameron Dueck
Minnie Chan
Ambrose Leung
Chester Yung
Josephine Ma
and my favorite: Fanny Fung
(And then there's my HK doctor-- Dr. Paco Lee. I never asked him where the "Paco" came from...)
Here are some I pulled from the Sunday paper--
Enoch Yiu
Agnes Lam
Cameron Dueck
Minnie Chan
Ambrose Leung
Chester Yung
Josephine Ma
and my favorite: Fanny Fung
(And then there's my HK doctor-- Dr. Paco Lee. I never asked him where the "Paco" came from...)
Return of the Sidewinder
So, I threw out my back on safari. I feel pretty old.
Hours and hours of bouncing around rough trails in the back of a land rover laid the groundwork... the ATVs didn’t help much either. I think it was finally triggered by a sustained gallop as we were riding horses in the bush; I suddenly discovered I couldn’t walk anymore.
It was otherwise one of the highlights of the week: zebra herds were generally indifferent to us when we were on horseback, and we could get close enough to feel like we were strolling among them. We got uncomfortably close to a Rhino too (ack).
I made Jacqueline go on the last couple game drives without me; I could barely even shuffle around the tent without help. At the campsite we all laughed at the jokes about the ranger having to put me down, or about the lions picking off the weakest and slowest of the herd, etc etc. Some fellow guests kindly offered me their spare voltaren (ahh...) which held me for a couple days out in the wilderness, until we could get to some stronger meds in Hong Kong.
Three days later, at the Johannesburg airport, Jacqueline had me placed in a wheelchair, and I got to experience the novelty of "special needs preboarding"-- I would have felt vaguely self-conscious, if not for the voltaren... I had people pushing me through special doors and gates, and cutting to the front of various lines...I've never gone through immigration & security so effortlessly.
I've been seasick in Cape Town and paralyzed on safari. We still laugh remembering the Johannesburg couple's remarks to us at the Italian laundromat: "Yeah, Africa's not for sissies-!"
Hours and hours of bouncing around rough trails in the back of a land rover laid the groundwork... the ATVs didn’t help much either. I think it was finally triggered by a sustained gallop as we were riding horses in the bush; I suddenly discovered I couldn’t walk anymore.
It was otherwise one of the highlights of the week: zebra herds were generally indifferent to us when we were on horseback, and we could get close enough to feel like we were strolling among them. We got uncomfortably close to a Rhino too (ack).
I made Jacqueline go on the last couple game drives without me; I could barely even shuffle around the tent without help. At the campsite we all laughed at the jokes about the ranger having to put me down, or about the lions picking off the weakest and slowest of the herd, etc etc. Some fellow guests kindly offered me their spare voltaren (ahh...) which held me for a couple days out in the wilderness, until we could get to some stronger meds in Hong Kong.
Three days later, at the Johannesburg airport, Jacqueline had me placed in a wheelchair, and I got to experience the novelty of "special needs preboarding"-- I would have felt vaguely self-conscious, if not for the voltaren... I had people pushing me through special doors and gates, and cutting to the front of various lines...I've never gone through immigration & security so effortlessly.
I've been seasick in Cape Town and paralyzed on safari. We still laugh remembering the Johannesburg couple's remarks to us at the Italian laundromat: "Yeah, Africa's not for sissies-!"
Benoni rocks!
We had booked two nights at a lodge in Johannesburg, one night on the way to our safari camp, and one night one the way back. It was just what we wanted-- a decent (and cheap) place right by the airport. Technically, though, it wasn't in Johannesburg, it was in a suburb called Benoni.
If it happened to come up in conversation that we were staying in Benoni (or were on our way there) we got some interesting responses. Sometimes we'd get a tactful "Benoni? Huh. Are you staying with family or friends or something?" More often we'd get a "What the hell are you doing there?" or a suppressed laugh.
Benoni looks a little like Phoenix: mostly wide boulevards, strip malls and ranch-style homes. It's widely regarded as being "Nowhere". In fact, paradoxically, its so "Nowhere" it actually has become "Somewhere": Benoni is in that category of places like Staten Island, or Hoboken, or San Fernando or Peoria.... bland places that people become strangely sentimental about simply because they're such easy targets. They're famous for being unknown. It cements your status as, say, a local San Franciscan if you can roll your eyes at mention of Oakland.
Campari had a South African ad campaign that relied on a classic double-take: "Where did you taste your first Campari cocktail... Sorrento... Milan... Monaco.... Benoni-!??"
Charlize Theron (who grew up in Benoni) recently made a toungue-in-cheek soundbite/station identifier for a local Johannesburg radio station-- "Hi this is Charlize Theron, you're listening to [K-whatever] and I just want to say BENONI ROCKS!!" The spot was a big hit.
If it happened to come up in conversation that we were staying in Benoni (or were on our way there) we got some interesting responses. Sometimes we'd get a tactful "Benoni? Huh. Are you staying with family or friends or something?" More often we'd get a "What the hell are you doing there?" or a suppressed laugh.
Benoni looks a little like Phoenix: mostly wide boulevards, strip malls and ranch-style homes. It's widely regarded as being "Nowhere". In fact, paradoxically, its so "Nowhere" it actually has become "Somewhere": Benoni is in that category of places like Staten Island, or Hoboken, or San Fernando or Peoria.... bland places that people become strangely sentimental about simply because they're such easy targets. They're famous for being unknown. It cements your status as, say, a local San Franciscan if you can roll your eyes at mention of Oakland.
Campari had a South African ad campaign that relied on a classic double-take: "Where did you taste your first Campari cocktail... Sorrento... Milan... Monaco.... Benoni-!??"
Charlize Theron (who grew up in Benoni) recently made a toungue-in-cheek soundbite/station identifier for a local Johannesburg radio station-- "Hi this is Charlize Theron, you're listening to [K-whatever] and I just want to say BENONI ROCKS!!" The spot was a big hit.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
How to clear a diving cage
It's a perfectly stupid idea: take a boat out into choppy waters with chilling antarctic currents (waters known as "shark alley"), climb into an underwater metal cage hanging off the side of the boat, throw some tuna heads & entrails into the water, and wait to see some sharks up close. It may be stupid, but shark diving is big business, and its something many, many tourists do when visiting South Africa.
A cold overcast morning in Gansbaai, about 2 hours southeast of Cape Town, Jacqueline and I got on one of those boats. There were about 15 of us total on board. The boat was rocking quite a bit: it took a good amount of coordination to put on our cold, damp, ill-fitting wetsuits, and a couple of the passengers succumbed to seasickness early on (Our captain advised us to please vomit off the starboard side, so as to not splash onto the divers in the cage). It was hard not to ponder things like: "is this really the stupidest thing I've ever done? Or just somewhere in the top ten?"
Almost right away, from the deck, we were witness to two different sharks thrashing as they chased the tuna parts. A large shark tail smacked the side of the boat, sending a wave of water over Jacqueline just as she finished with her wetsuit. We all began yelling and laughing; I'm not sure whether it was out of excitement or nervousness.
The cage fit 5 people at a time; we would all rotate in and out of the cage through the day. After some exciting early encounters, things calmed down a bit. Visibility in the water was poor, and by the time Jacqueline and I had our various turns in the cage, most of the cool Discovery-channel type action had diminished. I had been in the cage about 20 minutes, and I was still feeling vaguely nauseous from all the rocking. I swallowed a wave of salt water while trying to adjust my mask, and that sealed it for me. I barely managed a weak "uh, I think I should get out now..." before blowing chunks right in the cage. Somewhere in my temporary delirium I heard a woman's voice "ewww, that guy threw up...I'm getting out!!" I soon had the whole cage to myself. Ahhh, a little elbow room at last (the woman had been sitting in a stew of cloudy water, seal crap and rancid tuna guts... I find it funny that it was my puke that finally pushed her over the edge).
When I climbed back on board, it occurred to me how bad the rocking was-- people were leaning over the starboard rails, or curled up in corners... of the 15, nine of us had vomited at some point. Jacqueline was one of the lucky few who didn't. The 4-man boat crew did their best not to smirk at all of us.
Tasteless side note-- this is a strange observation, but as I was sitting back, watching and hearing the suffering (and trying not to do any more myself) it was odd seeing how differently the men and women reacted-- most of the men wretched continuously, over and over; they were almost incapacitated by their own never-ending convulsions. Most of the women, however, were like cats-- a quick *BARF* and then they were fine, normal until the next "episode"...
A cold overcast morning in Gansbaai, about 2 hours southeast of Cape Town, Jacqueline and I got on one of those boats. There were about 15 of us total on board. The boat was rocking quite a bit: it took a good amount of coordination to put on our cold, damp, ill-fitting wetsuits, and a couple of the passengers succumbed to seasickness early on (Our captain advised us to please vomit off the starboard side, so as to not splash onto the divers in the cage). It was hard not to ponder things like: "is this really the stupidest thing I've ever done? Or just somewhere in the top ten?"
Almost right away, from the deck, we were witness to two different sharks thrashing as they chased the tuna parts. A large shark tail smacked the side of the boat, sending a wave of water over Jacqueline just as she finished with her wetsuit. We all began yelling and laughing; I'm not sure whether it was out of excitement or nervousness.
The cage fit 5 people at a time; we would all rotate in and out of the cage through the day. After some exciting early encounters, things calmed down a bit. Visibility in the water was poor, and by the time Jacqueline and I had our various turns in the cage, most of the cool Discovery-channel type action had diminished. I had been in the cage about 20 minutes, and I was still feeling vaguely nauseous from all the rocking. I swallowed a wave of salt water while trying to adjust my mask, and that sealed it for me. I barely managed a weak "uh, I think I should get out now..." before blowing chunks right in the cage. Somewhere in my temporary delirium I heard a woman's voice "ewww, that guy threw up...I'm getting out!!" I soon had the whole cage to myself. Ahhh, a little elbow room at last (the woman had been sitting in a stew of cloudy water, seal crap and rancid tuna guts... I find it funny that it was my puke that finally pushed her over the edge).
When I climbed back on board, it occurred to me how bad the rocking was-- people were leaning over the starboard rails, or curled up in corners... of the 15, nine of us had vomited at some point. Jacqueline was one of the lucky few who didn't. The 4-man boat crew did their best not to smirk at all of us.
Tasteless side note-- this is a strange observation, but as I was sitting back, watching and hearing the suffering (and trying not to do any more myself) it was odd seeing how differently the men and women reacted-- most of the men wretched continuously, over and over; they were almost incapacitated by their own never-ending convulsions. Most of the women, however, were like cats-- a quick *BARF* and then they were fine, normal until the next "episode"...
Slideshow: on safari
Here are some photos from the Mabula game reserve and the Kwafubesi campsite (about 2-3 hours north of Johannesburg, up towards the Botswana border).
To see the slideshow larger, and with descriptive captions, click here.
To see the slideshow larger, and with descriptive captions, click here.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Cape Town
There's a directional marker at Cape Point, the kind that has about 20 arrow-shaped signs designating the distance & direction of various other cities. I noticed that almost every place--Buenos Aires, Sydney, New York, Paris, Shanghai, San Francisco etc--seemed equally remote... Cape Town is far away no matter where you are. We were chatting with a French businessman who laughed: "Yes, it really feels like the end of the road here!"
Geographically, this is as far away from home as we've ever been, and we're surprised that it feels so familiar. The city, the weather, the landscape, the harbor... it's very west coast: San Diego or San Francisco, with maybe a little Seattle thrown in for good measure. We've visited picturesque towns along the coast here that easily conjure up Half Moon Bay, Mendocino or Monterey. Vineyards and whale-watchers everywhere!
There are parts of Cape Town proper that somehow, strangely, remind me of Honolulu... maybe its the matronly black women strolling in their brightly-colored mumus... the quaint little churches framed by palm trees... the cinderblock schoolhouses... the neighborhoods that slope their way up the foothills of the mountains... the sudden rain showers that are quickly replaced by sunshine... the low clouds that obscure the top of Table Mountain... and of course there's the familiar presence of surf shops and sushi restaurants.
Jacqueline and I have been joking: "So... when does Africa start?"
It's achingly beautiful here, but I don't mean to paint some naive picture of the place-- We've seen the shanty towns, we know to be cautious, and we've been lucky enough to spend time with people and have long discussions about the local politics etc... but Capetonians will readily admit they're living in a first-world island.
Geographically, this is as far away from home as we've ever been, and we're surprised that it feels so familiar. The city, the weather, the landscape, the harbor... it's very west coast: San Diego or San Francisco, with maybe a little Seattle thrown in for good measure. We've visited picturesque towns along the coast here that easily conjure up Half Moon Bay, Mendocino or Monterey. Vineyards and whale-watchers everywhere!
There are parts of Cape Town proper that somehow, strangely, remind me of Honolulu... maybe its the matronly black women strolling in their brightly-colored mumus... the quaint little churches framed by palm trees... the cinderblock schoolhouses... the neighborhoods that slope their way up the foothills of the mountains... the sudden rain showers that are quickly replaced by sunshine... the low clouds that obscure the top of Table Mountain... and of course there's the familiar presence of surf shops and sushi restaurants.
Jacqueline and I have been joking: "So... when does Africa start?"
It's achingly beautiful here, but I don't mean to paint some naive picture of the place-- We've seen the shanty towns, we know to be cautious, and we've been lucky enough to spend time with people and have long discussions about the local politics etc... but Capetonians will readily admit they're living in a first-world island.
Food notes
Pleasant surprise:
1) Ostrich jerky (aka ostrich "biltong") is very good.
2) The sushi here is excellent. In fact, Cape Town has an incredible concentration of sushi restaurants-- it's pretty much the local cuisine. There's so much good food here I'm anticipating putting back the weight I lost in Egypt and Italy.
Disappointment:
Our first morning in Cape Town, sleep-deprived and jetlagged, I ordered a bloody mary and got a glass of steak sauce on the rocks. A few days later--at another establishment but still a little gun shy--I ordered one again. It was...better, I guess...but that's not saying much. I'm through with bloody marys for a while.
1) Ostrich jerky (aka ostrich "biltong") is very good.
2) The sushi here is excellent. In fact, Cape Town has an incredible concentration of sushi restaurants-- it's pretty much the local cuisine. There's so much good food here I'm anticipating putting back the weight I lost in Egypt and Italy.
Disappointment:
Our first morning in Cape Town, sleep-deprived and jetlagged, I ordered a bloody mary and got a glass of steak sauce on the rocks. A few days later--at another establishment but still a little gun shy--I ordered one again. It was...better, I guess...but that's not saying much. I'm through with bloody marys for a while.
When in Essaouira....
1) Pay attention to cactus. It hurts when you walk into one.
2) Careful where you put your hands. Seagull crap is pretty much invisible when it's on white stucco.
2) Careful where you put your hands. Seagull crap is pretty much invisible when it's on white stucco.
English lessons
1) A little kid started following us through the narrow streets one night as we were walking home to our riad. He was asking us for change, alternately in Arabic and French. He eventually became frustrated with my condescending smile and my repeated "No...no money, sorry..." and blurted out an emphatic "fuck you man!!" before running away. Jacqueline and I glanced at each other and laughed--there was something tentative about the way he said it, like he had just learned it and didn't really trust that it would work, or that he was even saying it right.
2) Another night, we were walking through the outdoor food stalls in the Djemaa el Fna; one of the young-ish menu-wielding vendors called out to us: "try our food it's finger licking good!!" We giggled but kept walking. Seeing our reaction he launched into every bit of English he could conjure: "Seeyoulateralligator!! Afterawhilecrocodile!! "Iscreamyouscreamweallscreamforicecream!! Dingoes ate my baby!!!" At that last one we completely cracked up, and had to ask him: "Where did you LEARN that!!??" He said he had an older sister who lived in Melbourne.
2) Another night, we were walking through the outdoor food stalls in the Djemaa el Fna; one of the young-ish menu-wielding vendors called out to us: "try our food it's finger licking good!!" We giggled but kept walking. Seeing our reaction he launched into every bit of English he could conjure: "Seeyoulateralligator!! Afterawhilecrocodile!! "Iscreamyouscreamweallscreamforicecream!! Dingoes ate my baby!!!" At that last one we completely cracked up, and had to ask him: "Where did you LEARN that!!??" He said he had an older sister who lived in Melbourne.
Friday, November 2, 2007
SA update
Hi everybody, we're in South Africa. We haven't posted lately; we had limited web access in Morocco, and spotty connections so far here in Cape Town. I'm hoping to add some more Morocco items (SA too) in the coming week...
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