The good, the bad and the unknown (part 2).

Turkey
We spent a lot of time looking forward to the food in Spain, so we were somewhat caught off guard at how much we loved the food in Turkey. Much like Istanbul is now one of our favorite cities, Turkish food is one of our favorite cuisines.

Our favorite place was a little fish restaurant just down the street from where we were staying, that had really fantastic appetizers. They would bring out a tray of small dishes and you would just pick and choose whatever looked good. Big winners were green olives wrapped with sardines (tastes way better than they sound), yogurt with garlic and dill, and mussels marinated with some peppers in oil.

Turkey was the first time I was fussed at for not cleaning my plate. Several times waiters took great offense that I was not eating everything and simply refused to believe that I was full and assumed that I must not have liked it. More than once this ended up with complementary tea being served (to make up for what they thought must have been lacking). The funny thing is, I loved the food, but hated the tea. And I had to drink the tea so they wouldn’t be even more offended.

Another place we went a couple of times had vegetables (peppers, eggplants, leeks) stuffed with a dolma mixture, and really great hummus and baba ganoush.

We did also take a cooking class in Istanbul and we recreated some of the dishes for a “photo party” we had over the summer. The lentil soup was a big hit, and I want to try the stuffed figs soon.

I could go on and on about the food in Turkey.

Croatia
Croatia was all about sausage and seafood. Zagreb’s German and Eastern European influence was evident in the food with lots of heavy sausages and meat. We found a really good pizza place which brewed a couple of tasty beers. We also went to one of the old classic restaurants in Zagreb where a rather imposing waitress again chastised me for not finishing all the food. Again, it was good, but they served me a casserole the size of my head—just way too much.

Being on the coast, the seafood in Dubrovnik was spectacular. We feasted on fresh oysters, grilled squid and mussels nearly every day, and I made it a point to always order the octopus salad for comparison purposes.

Spain
While I loved the restaurants in Spain, I think I loved the markets more. It was a killer to stroll through them and not have a kitchen to cook in! Of course, that changed when we got to Salobrena and had an entire house for a week.

The tapas throughout Spain were simply brilliant. The best places were when you could find a little bar, have a beer and they would bring you a small plate of food—sometimes cheese and bread, or it could be paella or shrimp. And at our favorite places, it would be something different each time you ordered a beer. Heaven.

My favorite tapas were the peppers, which I’ve managed to recreate at home, and the Marcona almonds—both of which are very salty and savory. Oh, and the jamon Serrano or Iberico, which was a big cured ham leg from which they would shave very thin slices to order.

One of the most memorable meals was in a very small town called Ecija (pronounced E-thee-a). We had spent the early part of the evening at a great dive bar watching bullfighting and soccer with the locals on the plaza. (Quick aside: this bar was just across a one lane street from a church where a wedding was taking place—and it was full of the men grabbing a drink before being hunted down and pulled back inside for the ceremony.)

Around 10 p.m., which is the beginning of dinner service in Spain, we wandered through an alley and peeked inside a doorway we had seen earlier. It was this charming outdoor restaurant that specialized in Spanish style beef—we weren’t really sure what we were ordering, but just took the recommendations of the waiter. It was excellent, and a lovely place to spend the rest of the evening.

But I have point out that in Madrid I had the worst thing I had eaten since the shrimp in Beijing. We stopped at a tapas bar after spending the day in the park. The menu was Spanish and English, but still had one thing that baffled me—elvers on toast. Ever adventurous when it comes to food I threw caution to the wind and ordered it. Looked like cooked spaghetti on toast, but with some bluish coloring in places, and tasted a bit like it, too, but icky. I ate what I could stomach, but didn’t finish it. It wasn’t until I got home that I found out that elvers are baby eels. That explains it.

Dublin
We had some lovely meals in Dublin, but I think our favorite thing was the full Irish breakfast with eggs, black pudding, tomatoes…the way a breakfast should be!

6 Months Later…
Since we’ve been back there are a few things we make to remind us of the travels—the lentil soup and Turkish appetizers are some of our favorites still. But it’s only been this week that I’ve wanted to eat Chinese food again!

The good, the bad and the unknown.

NOTE: this is the first of two parts on some of the culinary adventures we had on the world tour.

We been back for months now, and are still processing some of the trip. In some ways it seems like it never happened!

This post is something we’ve been meaning to do for a while—it’s all about the food. The good, the bad and the unknown.

China
I won’t go into detail about the place at the end of our hutong or the Peking duck, as we covered those in our earlier posts. But a couple of other dining experiences in Beijing were worth noting as well.

After our first overpriced hotel breakfast Tom started picking up breakfast for us at a bun shop just around the corner. For about a dollar, we could get these two stuffed rolls that would carry us through the day. Not sure exactly what they were stuffed with, but pork and green onions seem like the most likely thing. Just a small example of how kind everyone we met was, the second time Tom went there was during the morning rush with everyone pushing their way to the table set up outside the shop. After waiting patiently while 5 or 6 other folks elbowed their way to the front (the Chinese don’t believe in queuing up in a line) the old woman took pity on him as he obviously didn’t know the drill. She barely glanced up at him (towering over everyone else) handed him two bun took his money and went back to the crowd. We loved taking breakfast to the park around the corner and listening to the caged birds.

The other Beijing food experiences—well, it was the best of food and it was the worst of food. Can’t remember the name of the restaurant, and as we got in the habit of, we ordered a number of dishes on the likely chance that there would be at least one we couldn’t eat. One was a really fantastic beef—crispy, salty, just wonderful. Another was shrimp over crispy tea leaves. The flavor was great, but they were cooked whole—head, shell and tails. While the heads came off fine you couldn’t really take off the shell which proved to be a problem. Tom was only able to eat a couple, and I was determined to eat at least most of what was on the plate but had to give up after 5 or 6—just thinking about the texture still makes my stomach turn a bit.

On to Xian, where Tom was determined to find “hot pot.” We would ask (showing the symbol for it) but everyone would point to one particular restaurant that was outrageously expensive, even by American standards. So we still are not even sure what it is. But as a result we did get some really fantastic soups and meals. But the best story is less about the food and more about the folks. After trying to find the fabled hot pot one afternoon, we finally gave up around 2:30 pm—which is an odd time for lunch as it turns out many restaurants close up at 3 for a break before dinner service. Anyway, we stopped in a place that looked nice, but was deserted. The staff was eating and watching Chinese soap operas, but they sure weren’t going to pass up on customers.

This may have been the only place in China where they didn’t have pictures on the menu. This was a problem.

None of the waitresses wanted to talk to us (or rather gesture with us), so they sent over what seemed like a busboy who knew how to say “hello.” That, unfortunately but not unexpectedly, is where his English ended. The menu was really just an order form and we had no idea where to begin. Tom pulled out the “point in any language” book, and we started pointing to the order form and to the pictures. He got the idea and started showing us what to order: beef, cabbage, broccoli. We were still guessing on the preparation, but settled back with a couple of beers and waited.

After a bit, a waiter came out with an interesting contraption that was quite hot. He sat it on the table and filled part of the top and the bottom with water and some herbs. A few minutes later, there were platters of raw food brought out, and again, they took pity on the clueless tourists, showing us how to drop the beef and vegetables in the hot water until they cooked, and then dousing them in different sauces. The waiter sat about 8 feet away and when he would see us doing something silly (like putting the pickled garlic in the hot water), he’d jump up and come show us what to do. All in all, it was an adventure in dining. And not our last. (Further research has shown that this, indeed, was "hot pot."

Guilin, Yangshuo and Guangzshou were relatively simple (avoiding the dog on the menu) and we generally stuck with “farmer food” (as they called Chinese food) as opposed to Western meals, though we did become fond of the full English and Spanish breakfasts at the Li River Retreat to set us up for the day. And the ramen-style noodle bowls we bought for the train trip were really good as well, though in retrospect, I think we were just really hungry when we ate them. If nothing else, it was fun when we bought them at the shop in the train station where we went through another round of photo ops…and waiting in the queue on the train to fill them with hot water (each coach had it’s own hot water supply for this very purpose)!

Kenya
Much like everything else about Kenya, our dining experiences were very isolated. It was lovely food, but none of it really Kenyan. Except the coffee—and that was amazing. Early morning (5 am) wake up calls were much easier to take when there was a quiet knock and rustling as fresh Kenyan coffee was left in our tent.

There were some interesting juxtapositions with wonderful gourmet 5 course meals in the middle of nowhere. Joy’s Camp in particular was serving food worthy of any fine dining restaurant.

One of the things we enjoyed about being on safari was that we had a chance to meet fellow travelers, usually over dinner. Two of our most memorable days included a riverside breakfast after a morning hike, and of course, the surprise bush dinner we wrote about earlier.

St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin, July 2, 2010

And so, this will be our last blog post from the road, which we write from a shady bench in the park in Dublin.

We spent our last day in Spain wandering through Retiro, the big park in the center of Madrid, playing cards and stopping for the occasional beer. There was a Metro strike going on, which cost us a few extra Euros to take a cab to the park. The day was really spent anticipating the World Cup showdown between Spain and Portagal—the Spanish love their team, so we figured it would be a hoot to watch it with a crowd of enthused fans. Was it ever…

The hotel we were staying in had a nice lobby bar, and we considered watching it there. But they also had some sort of business gathering at the hotel, and had set up the area for a big sit-down dinner, positioning their big screen TV in such a fashion that no one else could see it except those dining. Bummer.

But, true to form, we had located a small dive bar, the Cervesaria (love the name), just around the corner and decided to check it out. It was, of course, packed with folks watching the game. Fortunately, Spain trounced Portugal and so everyone was in a great mood. Soon, we were high-fiving people at each score. One woman we met taught us their fight song, something about “go boys, go boys, go go go boys.” Victory turned everything up a notch, with dancing and kissing and drinking (lots). Soon, we were in the middle of a full-blown party, and the Spaniards had taken us in as one of their own. By the time we left, Robin was draped in a Spanish flag and I had lipstick all over me. A fine end to our Spanish vacation.

The flight from Madrid to Dublin was a bit nightmarish, as it seems that all of the Spaniards pawn their teenagers off to other countries for the summer. As a result there were at least two large tour groups of very excited kids—we felt bad for the flight attendants who couldn’t even get them to sit down.

Dublin is having beautiful weather, though they are saying that it is quite warm (about 72 degrees F.). Yesterday we saw the Book of Kells and took one of the jump on/jump off buses, which I wouldn’t recommend, but it got us where we really wanted to be…the original Guinness St. James Gate brewery. And let me tell you, they know how to do a tour. It was almost like a ride at Disneyland, but better because it ended with a free, perfectly poured pint of stout and a 360 degree view of Dublin from the Gravity Bar high atop the brewery.

We meandered back toward the hotel on our own, stopping in Temple Bar (the Dublin equivalent of Austin’s 6th Street) and ended up at a brewpub for dinner and local beer. But, lo and behold, just as Tom ordered our pints he saw the familiar green Sierra Nevada logo. For those of you who know Tom, he never even looked at the local beer again. In fact, he is now threatening to never leave Dublin.

So, tonight we are ending our travels with what we anticipate will be a very nice dinner at one of Dublin’s finer restaurants. Tomorrow we will be back home, rubbing dog bellies, scratching cat ears and breathing a big sigh.

An Andalucian respite

Hotel Alcazar de la Reina, Carmona, June 27, 2010

So, we’ve been slackers in the blogging department for a bit, but we have been taking notes. So we’re breaking this blog up into two parts which we’ll post simultaneously in “chronological” order (ie there’s another new post after this).

Salobrena, on the Costa del Blanco, was absolutely gorgeous and, thanks to Robin’s research, we scored a great house overlooking the town with a beautiful view of the sea. Our friends the Brittains and the Hamiltons joined us, as did Nathan and his girlfriend, Amber.

Most of the highlights involved finding the best free tapas, lounging by the pool, watching the World Cup and sampling lots of Spanish wine.

But the real event was the party we arranged for Nathan’s 22nd birthday. Check out the photos; the whole town came out for it and camped on the beach with a really big bonfire. You have no idea what it took to pull that off!

It really was a wonderful week of a whole lot of doing nothing with people dear to us—a very nice break after weeks of traveling.

It was with more than a little sadness that we left Salobrena and all went our separate ways. Nathan and Amber took off for a few days in Madrid, the Hamiltons and Brittains left a day or two early for Jerez de la Frontera and Seville. We decided that we would head that same direction, though taking the route through the mountains instead of the coast. The landscape was beautiful, and the roads a bit harrowing. We finally stumbled upon one of the classic Spanish “white villages” which was charming, before making it to Jerez.

It was pretty funny when we checked into the hotel, which was recommended by the Brittains and Hamiltons, when the clerk exclaimed, “It seems all of our guests from the U.S. come from Austin, Texas, these days!”

Anyway, Jerez is a charming little town, which was followed last night by yet another charming village, Ecija. It was amazingly quiet there (and hot; it’s called the “frying pan of Spain.” Feels a lot like Austin) even when we went back out at 7:30 pm. We found a little bar off the square across from a large church where we got a lesson in bullfighting from a former, elderly, torriador. Everybody was very friendly as we all watched bullfighting and then football, the evening being only slightly marred by the USA’s loss to Ghana.

Explored a Roman necropolis today in Carmona, and now it’s off to find more food and drink tonight in another small Spanish town.

Barcelona, redux

Hotel La Paz, Murcia, Spain, June 17, 2010

OK, so (obviously) Robin’s merciful side reasserted itself and she didn’t kill me—yet…

And I never, never want to drive in Barcelona again, unless for some reason I move there and get to know the place a whole lot better. After renting a car downtown and trying to work my way back to the hotel to pick up Robin, it took me nearly 2 hours to go (essentially) around the block. Way too many one way streets and way too few street signs.

Barcelona was a quick stop, but Robin picked out a few choice sights for us to see. Our plane was delayed so we had a bit less time than expected the first day, so we spent the first few hours of our stay checking out La Rambla, the main tourist street in the city. Quite a sight to behold. Two things that were quirky and interesting to watch were the folks dressed up as living statues waiting for tourists to pay to have their photos taken (some were quite entertaining), and the street vendors with the bootleg movies and knock-off handbags. They would lay out their wares on sheets, with rope tied to each corner. Each piece of rope was gathered into a handle in the middle, which they held onto at all times—presumably to make a quick getaway if the authorities showed up.

Tuesday started great with a walk through an amazing market, a stroll along the pier and into Barri Gotic. Then the Picasso museum—well worth the visit. I think we both felt like we finally understood what he was doing after getting a bit of an education.

Then on to one of the most amazing things I’ve see on the entire trip—Sagrada de la Familia. It is a cathedral nearly all designed by Gaudi and is taking more than 100 years to build. The completion date is around 2030 and it is simply spectacular, not just in the architecture (reflects nature in a way I haven’t seen before) but in the fact that we are witness to the construction of what will be one of the great buildings and churches of the world.

We followed that up with a brief visit to Park Guell (also designed by Gaudi) after having a really crappy map that made us walk about 200% more than necessary. But it was very cool in any case—I’m now a big fan of Gaudi and his use of angles and natural shapes.

We ended our evening search for tapas and wine, as you must be in Barcelona, successfully.

Leaving Barcelona, or trying to

Barcelona, June 16, 2010

It’s been 38 days, 20,000 miles and Tom is about to die. Because I’m going to kill him.

Though we have been ‘together’ a very long time, we’ve never spent this much time together. And I do mean together, as in we haven’t even been in different buildings, and are usually no more than 20 feet apart. For 6 weeks. Let me say that again: 6 weeks.

Those of you who know me well, know that I have a pretty serious introvert side that needs attention now and then. And by attention, that means being left completely alone for a while. So, when I have to spend too much time with someone, I start noticing every little quirk and they start to make me a bit crazy. Did I mention that I’ve been with Tom non-stop for 6 weeks?

I finally snapped in Barcelona. It was the weird eating schedule he has. Or rather lack of schedule. But I won’t go into that, let’s just say that I was ticked off all afternoon at him; and the one thing that will make Tom mad at me, is me being mad at him. It’s a vicious cycle. In any case, Parc Guell was not nearly as charming as it was suppose to be as a result of us sniping at each other.

And then, there was the rental car debacle that fixed everything.

Here was the plan: we get packed up and Tom walks the few blocks to the Europcar rental agency to pick up the car. There is no parking available in front of the hostel, so he was suppose to drive by, wave at me and then I would gather up the rest of the bags and head to the corner. He would circle the block, we’d throw the bags in and be on our way to Salobrena. How hard could it be?

Hah! I can hear anyone who’s been to Barcelona laughing out loud at this plan.

First part goes great. He drives by, I get the bags and make it to the corner in less than 2 minutes to wait for him to come back. And wait. And wait.

After 10 minutes I start wondering if maybe I was mistaken and that wasn’t him that drove past. But it had to be, I saw him. After 15 minutes, I come to the conclusion that he’s just gotten turned around and would be there any minute.

An hour goes by and now I’m just getting worried. How the hell long could it take to go around the block!

I haul all the bags back to the entrance of the hostel and convince the maintenance man to look after them for 2 minutes while I check to see if the clerk has any messages for me.

He’s been gone 1 ½ hours at this point. If he was in an accident, he’d have no way of telling anyone where to find me, and I don’t speak enough Spanish to start checking hospitals.

No message at the desk, but then it occurs to me that he might have his phone turned on, and I have the laptop. I frantically send an email: “Are you OK? I’m starting to get really worried. I’m waiting in the downstairs lobby.”

Reply: “Ok just lost”

Me, relieved: “Stop somewhere and tell me were you are. I’ll take a cab to you.”

Tom: “No place to stop”

As it turns out, they really like one way streets in Barcelona. And, there is no rhyme or reason to the way the city is laid out. And, there really isn’t any place you can even stop long enough to get directions without blocking a lot of traffic.

Which is what Tom did—and after 2 hours I hear him shout from the front door for me. I grabbed all of the bags again and we got them in the car. But not before we got a ticket for stopping in a taxi zone—which is what we were trying to avoid with the circling the block plan.

I’m not entirely convinced that he didn’t do this intentionally to make me appreciate him after yesterday—but he swears not. And we have 2 more weeks.

The clear, blue sea

Dubrovnik, Croatia, June 14, 2010

After four sun-soaked—and burned—days, we are leaving Dubrovnik, Croatia, tomorrow for Spain. The Adriatic really is as blue and beautiful as all of the photos make it look. We spent two days on Lokrum island, a short ferry ride away. To call it a beach is not quite right—we lounged on large rocks on the seaside, not sand, but that gives you the chance to drop down into water that is clear for as far as you can see. Yesterday, we hit Lopud which was a 40 minute boat ride away and has a sandy beach. Sand is nice, but we prefer the rocks – the sound of the waves breaking on them is so relaxing, plus when you get out of the sea you don’t have to deal with all that sand sticking to you. Wow, tough choices, right?

If nothing else, seeing people young and old wear skimpy swimsuits, or none at all, has gotten me out of my Quaker-style bathing suit and into something a bit more acceptable for the Mediterranean. Honestly, the first couple of days I was at the beach I felt like I was wearing a burka compared to everyone else. We did have to come up with a “naked old guy” alert as that was something that neither of us was comfortable with—me for obvious reasons and Tom because he didn’t want to confront the future quite yet.

The Old Town of Dubrovnik really is a charming place, with lots of tiny streets and alleys twisting and climbing up and down. As we wandered around, we got plenty of views of hidden courtyards and rooftop patios. There are lots of little shops and restaurants, too, some tucked so far away that you wonder how anybody finds them. Much like Zagreb, the squares and streets are packed with people at all hours.

When we were in Zagreb we asked the hotel clerk, Davor, about it and he laughed—apparently he gets the question all the time: Why are cafes and bars bustling all day long, don’t people have to work? His answer, it’s just our way of life. Yes, we work, he said, but a day off is spent meeting friends for coffee, which can then turn into an evening of drinks and talk. Not a bad way of life in our book.

Getting back to Dubrovnik, the apartment we’re staying in isn’t in Old Town, but a 10 minute walk away. Not so bad time-wise, but the trip did involve lots and lots of stairs. Going down wasn’t a big deal, but heading up at the end of the night is a killer. But the elevation gain does afford a very nice view of Old Town, its harbor and Lokrum island.

In the land of the giants

Dubrovnik, Croatia, June 11, 2010

So, back home in Austin, I’m a fairly tall fellow at about 6’3”. But after we arrived in Zagreb, Croatia, a couple days ago, we both noticed that the folks here tend to be BIG. Seems like I’m about average height here (maybe a little above average, but not much), and Robin seems relatively short compared to many of the women. Other than that, however, we felt right at home in Zagreb. It’s the capital of the country, a university town, surrounded by hills and mountains, and it even has a river running right through the middle – all very much like Austin.

There is a very lively street life that goes on all day long (and well into the night) at the cafes, bars and restaurants that line the streets and boulevards. We spent our time wandering, admiring the architecture, shopping a bit, with frequent stops for refreshment and people-watching.

We only had a short time to explore Zagreb, just a day and a half, but really enjoyed it and would have stayed another day if we hadn’t already made flight reservations to Dubrovnik.

Here in Dubrovnik, it’s sunny and warm. The town is perched on the cliffs overlooking the Adriatic Sea, and is fairly small – I don’t imagine that more than a few thousand people live in the old town (not including us tourists!).

We’ve got five nights here, and are looking forward to being in one place for a bit. Today, we’re taking a ferry to Lokrum, a small island just off the coast, for some swimming and exploring.

More than halfway...

Istanbul, Just Bar, June 6, 2010

Back to civilization, and what a civilization it is—an amazing mix of cultures, people and flavors. We’re staying in Sultanahmet, which is tourist central for sure, with easy access to many of the city’s famous sites. So, we’re surrounded by tourists, but the variety of nationalities and ages makes it all rather refreshing since we get to mingle with English, Germans, Norwegians, Spanish and yes, plenty of Americans. And the Turks are a very hospitable folk, so it seems easy to fit in and just relax as we wander around—a pleasant contrast to China, where we always seemed to stand out from the crowd, and Kenya, where on safari we felt pretty insulated from the everyday life of Kenyans.

Waking at dawn to the sound of the call to prayer has been a mixed blessing—it’s a beautiful sound, but our hotel room is about 30 feet from a minaret with loudspeakers so it is quite loud. And then we are within shouting distance of the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, both of which are breathtaking in different ways, and the muezzin’s calls from the nearby mosque combine with those of the neighboring, larger mosques to create a rather unsynchronized summons to prayer.

The history of the Hagia Sophia as one of the great Christian cathedrals which was later turned into a magnificent mosque has created a monument that is unlike anything else we’ve seen. On the other hand, the Blue Mosque is not just a relic from the past, but is an active house of worship which is stunningly beautiful.

We hit the ground running and roamed the neighborhood, visited the mosques, lingered in the Topkapi Palace & Harem (especially over the religious relics of John the Baptist’s arm and skull and David’s sword), and then found a rooftop restaurant with a great sunset view. Followed that up the next day with the Grand Bazaar, a labyrinth of interconnected shops that can throw off even the best sense of direction. The selection of goods is mind boggling with everything from fine pottery to fabrics to leather and all sorts of goods in between, including belly dancing costumes, which Tom could not quite convince Robin to buy. Just couldn’t find the right color.

But we have had to break the one bag rule. Tomorrow we are off to the Bazaar again to buy another suitcase—just can’t pass up the beautiful platters, lamps and bowls.

The food here is amazing, and we are especially fond of the excellent appetizers they make, both hot and cold. We actually like them more than most of the main dishes we’ve had—next meal, it’s nothing but appetizers, lots of them. We also took a cooking class last night which was quite fun. Between the new serving dishes and recipes, we are looking forward to our first dinner party back home. May not even wait—those meeting us in Spain might be in for a treat.

Today was spent exploring other neighborhoods and just wandering, which we could do for many more days but, unfortunately, we don’t have more time. But this is now one of our favorite cities, an international crossroads where we both feel at home and in another world.

Back from the Masai Mara

Safari Park Hotel, Nairobi, June 2, 2010

Back in Nairobi, via a Safarilink flight that went very smoothly (even for Robin who, amazingly, slept most of the way), after spending the better part of three days in the Masai Mara. Which was also amazing. Yes, Kenya is indeed full of wildlife of all sorts and the experience of seeing the animals in the wild was unforgettable, but difficult to describe in words – pictures serve much better, so we’ve uploaded some of our favorites to flickr.

It might not be obvious from the photos (because we were frequently zooming in with the camera), but we were usually able to get very close to the animals. Most of them would let us get within 5-50 feet before eventually wandering off.

The Intrepid camp was great, if not as luxurious as Joy’s Camp. We became (as usual) particularly fond of hanging out in the bar, which overlooked a river. That, as it turned out, was fortuitous because it led to a very interesting evening on our last night there.

We met Marcus and Remy, from Germany, and newlyweds Doug and Michelle, from New York, in the bar and were chatting about the day’s game drives, what we had seen and where we had been while in Africa. Dinner was already well under way al fresco on the patio when we decided it was time to eat. As we rose and headed for the dining area, the six of us were pulled aside by one of the attendants and told to follow. He said that, as we were the last in the bar, they had something special to show us but he couldn’t be persuaded to impart any more info. So we headed off down a dimly lit pathway toward the outskirts of the camp.

After a few minutes walk, small luminarias came into view defining a pathway forward as we left the main part of the camp behind, still with no idea where we were going. We suddenly turned a corner into a clearing along the river, lit with candles and a fire. An elegant table was laid out for us, next to an open-air kitchen. We soon found ourselves seated and served with wine and beer, the smell of roasting meats wafting our way and the sound of flowing water as the background music…at least until the Masai warriors showed up.

Midway through the meal, we heard them approach down the same path that we recently tread. In full Masai dress, five or six of them entered the clearing, dancing and singing as they came. As the group provided a background chant, each took a turn to raise his voice higher in a tribal melody. This went on for a few minutes and then they invited Remy and Tom to join them in their performance, which included a bout of competitive jumping - the higher, the better. We were told later that whoever jumps highest gets the most women, which didn’t sit well with Robin. Fortunately, they didn’t bring any women with them…

It was a magical evening and we lingered long in the clearing with our new friends, chatting and laughing, before returning to our tents late that night. All in all, we couldn’t have imagined a more delightful end to our safari in Kenya.

Joy's Camp, Kenya, May 28: Of puff adders and cobras

There is nothing that will get your attention more than having a briefing where you are told to beware of puff adders, cobras and other creatures in the night.

That’s what happened when we arrived at Joy’s Camp in north central Kenya. Dry and hot, they’ve just come out of a very rainy season and it reminds both of us of Texas. We were told that if we needed to leave our tents at night to use the radio and call for an escort—which we thought was a bit excessive. Until last night, when our escort pointed out the smallish puff adder that he had just chased off the pathway. Needless to say we didn’t go anywhere without an escort and a flashlight.

Our time in Kenya so far has been both rushed and relaxed. After another marathon travel day from Guangzhou to Nairobi via Dubai (and up more than 36 hours with only a couple of catnaps between us) we spent our first night at a really lovely place just outside of Nairobi. We had the chance to meet some other Americans just coming off safari and had a great time swapping travel tales.

From our limited experience being ferried around Nairobi in small vans, the roads are much worse than China, but the drivers are just the same. If cars and trucks could push, shove and throw elbows, that’s what the vehicles in Nairobi would be doing. Fortunately, there are new roads being built—by the Chinese.

We were picked up the next morning and took a very small plane to Joy’s Camp in Shaba National Park. This place is gorgeous, and to say that we are staying in tents is just a technicality. If these tents were transplanted back to the States, they’d be high-end condos.

We met Mike the manager and John our guide and shortly went on our first game drive and “sundowner.” Mike mentioned that the animals were “thin on the ground” because of the recent rains. When it is this wet, they don’t need to gather at one watering hole and are more dispersed throughout the park and other nearby areas. While this is great for the prey animals, apparently the predators are having a rough time. Whereas last year there was a severe drought and the animals were slow and dying, the prey is now well-fed, energized, quicker and harder to catch. This has unforeseen consequences on the human population as well. Since we have been here, there has been at least one verified report of a hyena going into a community and taking a baby from a home.

Though they may be dispersed, we have seen two kinds of zebras, giraffes, buffalo, and countless other ground animals to say nothing of the birds. Our favorites so far (aside from the ones just noted) are the kori bustard bird and the dik diks, a tiny antelope of sorts.

On our way to a morning hike along the river, in the company of two park rangers armed with assault rifles, we also encountered a man wandering through the park. This got the park rangers excited – poachers are a problem. We stopped the Land Rover and they jumped out to investigate. It was a bit of a tense situation but Mia, one of our camp mates, lightened the mood by leaning forward to our guide John and whispering, “Ask him if he’s seen any animals…”

John has found us a couple of fantastic spots to watch the sunset with wine and beer in hand. “Lovely” is the word that comes to mind.

A few thoughts on China...

Robin here. I just wanted to make some notes about random things we’ve noticed about China. It is an amazing country, and I think that in general Americans really have no idea what it is like here. Most everyone we’ve met has been friendly and if they know any English are very eager to use it—even the construction workers who love to shout out “hello.” Those who don’t speak any still go out of their way to help the hapless Americans who have learned only to say “Nee hao” (hello) and “xie xie” (thank you). Tom was able to get the hang of a few more words, such as “train station” at which point they assume you can speak Chinese and start talking as if you know what they are saying. All you can do is nod and smile.

They love to play cards here. One of our favorite things to do in both Beijing and Xi’an was to find a park, grab a couple of beers and play cards, alongside dozens of Chinese doing the same. We never did figure out what they were playing, and some games involved cards that we didn’t understand; but they were just as fascinated with our game of Spite & Malice. Some folks would stop and watch for 20-30 minutes staring intently at what we were doing. On our train ride from Xi’an to Guilin, Tom even taught one of our cabin mates the game and played a hand with him.

I’ll never look at Chinese food the same again. The good food is fabulous, and some is so far out of our realm of understanding it was hard to eat, though we always at least made a good showing. Many of the restaurants have photos with all of menus, because so many Chinese are illiterate, to say nothing of the tourists. But looks can be deceiving—tripe can look like noodles and fish can be a bit sneaky. One place had neither English nor photos, so we had no idea what we were going to end up with. Turned out to be a large pot of boiling water that became kind of a Chinese fondue.

If I never see a Chinese-style toilet again it will be too soon. And one thing that I’ve noticed that I’m just fascinated with is that you seldom see babies with diapers. Babies not even walking are usually clothed in pants with the crotch and bottoms split open. Every now and then you’ll see a parent or grandparent take the child to the curb and encourage them to go. At this point I realized that what I thought was dog poop (and there are a lot of dogs here—which based on some menus, they will eat as well as have as pets) may well be baby poop. Made me watch my step even more closely.

As a pedestrian you have to learn to negotiate traffic, as you are at the bottom of the heap after bicycles, motorcycles, cars and buses. It’s really a game of chicken and you have to learn when to give way or get run over.

And finally, the growth. The juxtaposition between the old—ancient, really—and the new is everywhere. No matter where you look, if there are signs of people, there are signs of construction. I feel sure that if we come back in a few years, there are parts we wouldn’t even recognize.

It’s Tom now, and I concur with Robin on the above and will add the following: I often think of the U.S. as the center of capitalism, but the Chinese are born capitalists. They are constantly looking for ways to earn money, from hawking goods and services to passersby (we hired two of our guides after being approached on the street) to charging a few yuan for posing for an interesting photo (see the cormorant fisher and the woman with her baby in a basket).

Li River Retreat, Yangshou, May 22, 2010-05-21
After a very long (27 hours) train ride from Xi’an to Guilin, and 1.5 hour drive to Yangshuo, we arrived at the Li River Retreat. It was quite late, nearly 1 am, when we got here and we were whisked directly to our small, but very nice room. The best part—a large private balcony with a view that can take your breath away. As exhausted as we were, we both had an immediate reaction; we call it the “big sigh.”

The two weeks we have been in China have been whirlwind—constant motion and big cities with lots of concrete. The Li River Retreat could not be more different. Green everywhere, quiet (except for the daytime tour boats on the river), absolutely beautiful. For me (Robin) at least, the most stunning landscape I’ve ever seen.

We spent the first full day checking out the town which is very small by Chinese standards and about a 20 minute walk from the hotel. Yangshuo is very much of a tourist destination, both for Chinese and for foreigners. The west part of town is frequented most by the tourists and is exactly what you would expect—lots of restaurants, bars and a market with the typical Chinese wares of scarves and trinkets.

The second day we hired a guide we met the day before and took a bike ride through the countryside, a bamboo raft trip on the Dragon River, hiked to the top of Moon Mountain, and saw the 1500-year-old banyan tree. Briefly, the countryside of farms was beautiful; the raft trip looked like it would be a tourist trap but really was fabulous; the Moon Mountain hike should have been a vigorous climb (more stairs), but because of the unbelievable heat and humidity was draining; and the banyan tree, well, it was a really old tree.

Today is Saturday and our last day in Yangshuo. It’s been raining all morning and that’s just fine with us as we had already decided that today was going to be all about soaking in the view and taking it easy. The plan is to head into town later and at least try to experience a little of Chinese night life, since we haven’t managed to stay out past 8 pm since we got to China.

Tomorrow we travel back to Guilin and fly to Guangzhou where on Monday we catch our flight to Nairobi.

Us on top of Moon Mountain

Karsts

On the Train from Xi’an to Guilin, Beijing, May 18, 2010

Soft sleeper trains aren’t really all that “soft,” we’ve come to find out. This is our second train ride, the first being from Beijing to Xi’an. Beijing to Xi’an was a relatively quick overnighter that lasted about 11 hours. This leg of our journey is much longer, a 27-hour ride from the north to the south of China.

A bit about Xi’an…
Robin totally scored hiring a guide for when we first arrived. Our guide, Penny, was really nice and very sweet. She met us at the Xi’an train station wielding one of the small posters we have come to know and appreciate. Seeing your name on a sign in the middle of all the chaos that is a Chinese airport or train station is a welcome sight indeed.

After tending to some basics (coffee!) we were off to the Terra Cotta Warriors, which lived up to their billing in every way. Enroute, we stopped at a small facto
ry that made replicas of the warriors in various sizes, from a few inches tall to life size. It was such a relatively low-pressure sales environment that it caught us off guard and we actually bought a small series of the different warriors. Now, we need to find a way to ship them back to the U.S before we leave China – they certainly won’t fit in our backpacks when we fly to Kenya.

The first emperor of the Qin dynasty, who was the first to unite all of China, constructed this gigantic tomb (40 sq. kilometers!) so he could continue to rule in the afterlife. They have only excavated a small portion of the entire site, but there are still hundreds of warriors to check out. Reconstructing each warrior takes about a year - apparently, they were all broken when the tomb was raided during a peasant uprising shortly after the emperor died.
As cool as the Terra Cotta Warriors were, we both really enjoyed just talking to Penny for the 6-7 hours we spent with her. We covered all sorts of topics, from the Great Recession and its effects in the U.S. and on the China tourism industry in Xi’an. Family stuff (she has a brother AND a sister, rare in China – “very lucky” she said…), the Second Amendment, the concept of federal land in the U.S. and “owning” property in China (you can’t, just lease for 70 years), the “deposit” that Chinese must pay in cash if they want to leave the country for vacation or work (~$30,000!), and much more. Really fascinating to get her take on China and the U.S., and share our thoughts with her.

Stayed at an Ibis hotel – a very good deal, not a lot of charm but very modern and convenient, too. They must not have gotten the word that the Gerrows were coming, however, and neglected to stock up on the local beer in the lobby bar. So, they soon ran out…

We spent one nice morning taking a bike ride atop the old city wall, much of which runs between tiny parks and a moat. We rode all the way around the old part of the city, stopping occasionally for photos or a beer.

On our last day in Xi’an, we were playing cards in one of the parks by the wall when we heard music from across the moat and decided to investigate. We found what we guess is the Chinese version of a hootenanny, with various women singing to the accompaniment of traditional Chinese instruments. As usual, we attracted a fair amount of curiosity from the crowd gathered there to listen. The singers and band were really quite good, and we were looking for the tip jar but didn’t see one. Not to worry, as we were soon approached by one of the singers who displayed a 20 yuan note and clearly indicated that she would like us to give her one. So we did, happily, but that seemed to open a door. Next thing we know we’re being served tea and encouraged to give still more money, at which time we decided to move along. Still, very interesting encounter.

Really, though, Xi’an seemed very much about the food for us. Lots of it, and mostly delicious. We say mostly, because we frequently didn’t know exactly what we were ordering until it showed up on the table. The menus in most of the restaurants have photos of the food, but even that can be misleading. A small photo of pickled tripe, for instance, looks a lot like a bowl of noodles.

Temple of Heaven, Beijing, May 13, 2010

Decided to do something a bit low key today, going to the Temple of Heaven and stopping by the Pearl Market on the way. Took the Beijing subway for the first time, and it was great. We didn’t really travel all that far, but what a difference from the area where we were. Much more of a modern feel, with lots of high rise apartments and shopping malls, but still with traces of the old tucked away in corners.

Well, the Pearl Market was anything but low key. What seemed liked hundreds of individual stalls selling everything from electronics to silk to knock off designer bags. We spent about 30 minutes there—it was painful for me (Robin) to walk away from all of the bags. I’m not a girly girl, but I do have a weakness for shoes and bags. If you stopped to give more than a glance to something, the vendors were literally grabbing you to look at what they had to offer and pulling you to their displays. More than a bit overwhelming.

But, right across the street, the Temple of Heaven - what may have been our favorite place in Beijing. Dancing, singing, playing instruments or just cards– seems like everyone not working is here in the park on this beautiful day. We fit right in and gained their approval, and attention, when we joined the crowd with our own card game. Everyone is having a good time.

Until, that is, we start getting “muscled” out of our seats by some old folks playing on our kindness as we make way for them to clamber over the bench railings. Now Robin and I are crunched onto a small section next to a few septuagenarians, who have cleverly taken over most of the space. Hey, we’re not asking them to move – considering all they must have seen over the last few decades.

And again with the pictures – we really should start charging. But this time they were trying to be a bit more subtle, just casually sitting down next to us on the benches while a guy across the way pointed the camera in our direction. But we caught them and turned the tables, making them gather round while we took pictures of them, too. They were very friendly though, and everyone was laughing. Good fun, but we do get the feeling that they think we’re somehow humorous (even when Tom’s not wearing his funny hat!).
Next stop: Peking duck. We’ve been looking forward to this for ages. We debated between two places, one recommended by Lonely Planet, the other recommendation from these fantastic little cards that Tom picked up (which we are keeping for anyone else heading to Beijing). We decided to go with the Lonely Planet recommendation just because we thought it would be easier to find than the one in the hutong—which we’ve come to learn can be tricky to navigate. Turns out the food was great, but the atmosphere left something to the imagination. Or not, as it was so bright and we were shuttled in and out so fast there wasn’t much imagination to it. But again, the duck was yummy. Should have been a bit suspect because of the giant duck dressed in a Chinese robe in the front.

The best thing about the location of the restaurant was that it was located just off this very large, very cosmopolitan plaza. Also just off this same plaza was this crazy Beijing market—teaming with people (wait a minute, everything here is teaming with people). The food vendors were the highlight—check out the photos. You can’t tell from the still shots, but those little scorpions—still moving.

The Scorpions

Temple of Heaven

The Singers

Market