Ngorongoing to Ngorongoro

Up at dawn, two absolutely beautiful cups of Tanzanian coffee later and we were ready to face the day. George said he would pick us up at 6:30 and by George, he was there on time. He had made arrangements the previous night for us to have our breakfast at 6:00. It was going to be a long day and a good breakfast was an absolute necessity. It was about an hours drive to the Ngorongoro Crater's entrance where we would spend the day on the crater floor. The caldera is over 250 square miles in area.

From the entrance we drove down into the crater on one of the spookiest roads I have ever drove. It was dry but I can only imagine what it would be like if it had rained. There was over 250,000 K on the odometer but despite it's age, the Land Cruiser had great brakes and well used seat belts. Both which were put to good use on the drive down into the crater.

As previously mentioned, the crater is home to a group of black rhinoceruses that have been transplanted from South Africa. Because the crater is difficult to access and self contained, it was deemed a desireable place to start repopulating Tanzania with Rhinos. Sadly they are still hunted for their horns. The crater rim is well guarded by park rangers who maintain a watch 24 hours a day to prevent poachers from sneaking into the park. The Rhinos are quite shy, but we lucked out when a mother and child came out from the forest to have a mud bath. This allowed us to get within 500 meters of them. Cruisers are not allowed to leave the many roads that crisscross the crater floor so it was pure luck to get as close as we did. One of the many times I wished I had sprung for a camera with a monster zoom lens. The South African had a well hung camera that took beautiful closeups. Serious lens envy today.

The crater floor was mostly treeless accept for some small forested areas near a small, almost dry lake bed. During the rainy seasons, the lake is quite large. As we were moving through one of these few forested areas we came a across a lonely juvenile hippopotomus. Hippos generally stay in their pools all day and only leave at night when the sun has gone down. They have no sweat glands so keeping cool is a full time job. They must travel many miles away from the pool to forage for food but always head back to the pool before daylight. This young hippo did not make it back so he grabbed the shadiest and coolest place he could find to spend the day, chill out and wait for darkness. He got up, moved about for ten minutes to so when we arrived, but once he got comfortable with us, he settled back into the mud with a huge sigh, grunted and went immediately to sleep.

Ever wonder how a giraffe drinks?Well, wonder no more. Ouch! We came across a family as they were about to take on some water. As one drank, the other two kept a guard out for any predators.

Ten hours later found us back at the hotel. Drinks around the pool, a late dinner then to bed for another long day is in store for us. Serengeti, here we come.

Africa Hot

It was a marathon 23 hours of travel time from Manchester to Dar es salam. I would like to make a quick plug here for Qatar Air. Priced like a three star airline but with four star service. Getting off the the plane in Dar was a rude shock to our system. It was hot, Africa hot, even Tarzan wouldn't like it that hot! Since leaving Harbin at the beginning of January, you could count on one hand, the number of days that we saw temperatures above zero. Dar was searingly hot, the kind of heat that sucks the breath right of of your lungs. Add the humidity and we moved into the range of oppressingly hot. The airport was old and air conditioning was just a dream. But "Kili" to the rescue. A couple of cold "Kilimanjaro" beers made the four hour wait for our flight to Mount Kilamanjero International Airport and the town of Arusha almost passable.



Arusha was the jumping off point for our safari. At the airport we were met by George, who's last name I cannot spell. He greeted us as we exited the airport through the gift shop. Very entrepreneurial these Tanzanians. George was to be our guide and mentor on all things Tanzanian. He was born in the shadow of Mount Kilimanjaro and has been a guide for over a decade. He was chosen to act as Bill Clinton's guide during a visit he made to Tanzania shortly after Bill's retirement as Commander and Chief. Waiting for us in the parking lot was our home for the next six days, a slightly used Toyota Land Cruiser with a pop up roof and seating for seven. Unknown to us at that moment, was the fact that we would be spending about 10 hours each day bouncing around in the "Vibrator on Wheels" as it became known to us. Mount Kilimanjero loomed in the distance as we drove away from the airport. We have really arrived in Africa.


Our first night was spent in a small resort about an hours drive away from the airport. The next morning George arrived on time to pick us up for the first day of our African Adventure. Joining us was a lovely South Africa couple. Not married but definitely in love and much to our benefit, they were both savy safariists. (Not sure that is a word? Spell check doesn't like it) The man had taken a safari with George the year before and had specifically requested him for this trip. If George didn't have the answer, and that didn't happen to often, they would. The most important talent that any good guide can have is the ability spot animals from out of the side of his head or even from the back of his head while driving at high speeds over some very rough roads. George was blessed with awesome sight but as a bonus, the South African lady also had an uncanny ability to see and spot animals hidden in the grass or tucked up in trees.





Our first day was spent in Tarangire Park. The park is home to more elephants than we could count. Elephants are big and other than man have no predators. Despite our predator status, the elephants did not really take notice of us tucked away in our Land Cruisers. Although, I thought one of the loner male elephants was looking at the Land Cruiser in very inappropriate way. I had a vision of him strolling over and trying to mate with us. If you ain't the big Kahuna of the elephant herd then you ain't getting any.

Ten hours of rocking and rolling found us safely ensconced in the resort just outside our next stop, the Ngorongoro Crater.

Africa

Our first visit to the Dark Continent was a tremendous success. But, I must admit that we took a "road much traveled" than one "less traveled" as Nonie and I are more inclined to do. We usually have a real desire to not only want to see the pretty tourist sights but also those areas where tourists are not usually found. Where the locals live, work and play. For the first time we made a conscious decision to play it safe. Africa is definitely a place to play it safe but I must admit that it may have something to do with the aging process, our aging process. Not as adventurous as we were a decade ago. From the moment we arrived in Tanzania, we had guides and guards looking out for our well being. All our hotels had tall walls and tough looking Masai guards patrolling the grounds at night. On the Serengeti, we slept in tents, no walls for protection but each tent was provided with a whistle. Lions, no problem, tweet, tweet, tweet. I would have preferred a gun or even a tough looking lady gym teacher.

Our first stop, Tarangire National Park. More elephants than we could count. Did you know that elephants are on the move over 20 hours a day, traveling tens of miles in search of food? That doesn't surprise me as they always have their trunk packed.

Ngorongoro Crater. A 250 square mile volcanic crater full of critters. Home to black Rhinos who were transplanted from South Africa. Sadly, most of Tanzania's rhinos were killed by poachers for their horns which some believe have the power to make you a better lover. Poaching is still a problem which I find hard to believe in this day and age when Viagra can be bought on the Internet.

The mother of all game parks, the Serengeti. Just it's name evokes images of lions, cheetahs, leopards, zebras and wildebeests. 65,000 square miles of park. We caught just a small glimpse of the annual migration of wildebeests and zebras which number into the tens of thousands. We saw a line of wildebeests that stretched from horizon to horizon. They were unbelievably quiet, just the plaintive muling of the baby wildebeests crying "are we there yet"?

LIghting Up the Dark Continent

Wildebeests and Zebras living in perfect harmony. Well nothing is perfect. 

Vultures, recycling a Zebra on the Serengeti 

How do you tell the difference between a leopard and a cheetah? Leopards can climb trees and Cheetahs can't. 

Warthog heaven. Ngorongoro Crater spas are basic but with all the requisite services.

King of the Beasts. His majesty checking us out in our Land Cruisers and wondering where he could get his royal hands on a can opener.

Hyena etiquette states that you should never talk with a mouth full of Zebra.

Hey, move your fat ass out of the way. 

You have never experienced anything like a Hippo fart. No open fires allowed!

Industrial strength wrinkle cream. I may be on to something here.

Personally, I like my baby Wildebeest medium well but when in Africa!

 

 

Leopards? Cheetahs? See above.

  

 

Pippy Longstocking on steroids! 

Photos are all taken with my wimpy, zoom challenged point and shoot camera. Yes, we were that close? And, I was not kidding about those Hippo farts. Stay tuned for some amusing anecdotes in the next blog.

Jolly Old England

I like visiting Great Britain. It is old, feels foreign but if you close your eyes and concentrate very carefully you can understand everything that they are saying. As a profeshunal English teacher, I can confidently state that it is well known that Canadians have the purest spoken English in the world, but those eloquent British are pretty darn close.

Our first stop was the beautiful, touristy city of Brighton where the newly minted, newly weds Leah and Will shared their flat (apartment for you Americans) and life with us for a few days. The weather was spot on (perfect for you Americans) and besides wandering around the city, we were treated to a walk on the wild side. Well, as wild as the south of England can get as they have been living here for a few thousand years. Sunday morning came early as Leah and Will had to attend an obligatory chapel at Hogwarts as Will lovingly likes to call the private school where they work. As Nonie and I were satorially challenged for attending chapel, we opted to wander around Brighton. We spent an hour visiting Brighton Palace. It was the summer home of Prince, then King, Charles V. He was a bit of a party boy and had an eye for decorating. (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) and especially liked the Chinoise style of decoration. Bamboo and dragons can can be found throughout the place. Queen Victoria found the palace too small and sold it to the City of Brighton. In the afternoon, we enjoyed a three hour ramble (hike for you Americans) around Devils Dyke. (Dike for you Americans) The two days we spent with Will and Leah was a lovely start to our newest adventure. Monday morning dawned early for all of us as Leah and Will went back to work and we caught a train to London Station. I love the train system here. It is fast, convenient and on time. I find train travel very civilized and although it takes a bit longer than a plane, you arrive more rested, relaxed and with out any full body pat downs.

A short tube ride (subway for you Americans) to another train station found us on our way to Menson/Ilkley and a visit with Lorelie. Loralie is a an old friend who we first met in Kamloops when Nonie and I were just newly minted newly weds. She has been part of our life for over thirty years. She has been the only friend who has been brave or perhaps crazy enough to visit us here in Harbin. In fact, she came to visit in the dead of winter. Dead is a very appropriate word to use when describing the winters here in Harbin. The day she arrived on the train from Russia, the temperature was -27 C. (See blog entries for January 2009) She lives in Menston, a photographic little village about 20 minutes from Leeds. We spent two fabulous days touring around, with some glorious walks in the countryside. Weather was a little spotty (poor for you Americans) but not enough to stop us.

Another contest for our regular readers. Based on the definitions below can you identify where we were walking in the two pictures above.

dale (n)- an open river valley (in a hilly area)

moor (n)- an open tract of land usually covered with heath and often marshy or peaty

Next stop, we bring light to the Dark Continent.

New Adventures

It was with mixed emotions that we returned and left the Okanagan. We only had a short time, seven days in which to get reacquainted with family and family. Many things went unsaid but God willing we will say them in six months or so after our newest adventure. First stop and the one that we have most look forward to, a visit with the grandchildren. And as per the Official Rules and Regulations of the Grandparents Handbook, find enclosed the requisite number of cute pictures that we are required to post after each visit. Ronan is four and while he doesn't rule the roost like he used to as he must now share that with his sister, he continues to be a dynamo of creative energy and activity. His sister Isla is still a happy and content little girl. But when made necessary by her brother chauvinistic attitude on toy ownership, she can quickly display an iron will to get her way.

Sadly our time was short and we moved on for a short visit with Nonie's sister Lynda and another wonderful turkey dinner with our thirty something nieces and nephews and thier children. They are all so busy with their careers and family, I was exhausted just being around them. Ahhh, to still have that much energy at the end of the day. It was a fabulous ending to our short sojourn in Canada. Next stop England and the beginning of our African adventure. Stay tuned.

A Feast of Festivities

Santa made a surprise visit to Harbin. He and Mrs. Claus want to wish all our readers a very merry Christmas and especially, a Snovum Godum.




One of the best things about living in a multi-cultural setting is the opportunity to celebrate. A month or week does not go by when we do not have an excuse to celebrate a special occasion occurring in one of the dozen countries represented by our little group.

Canada's Thanksgiving rolled into Halloween, followed closely by China's National Teachers Day with a big dinner put on by the provincial government. We were just slimming down when American Thanksgiving arrived and another dinner, all be it with a shortage of turkey. A pause, then Yalda, an Iranian celebration of the Winter Equinox and another great meal at Abbas's and Solmaz's. We had time to let out our belts before a 30+ birthday celebration that included the "Knife Dance".

The Persian knife dance involves dancing/gyrating around the birthday cake with a knife, offering it to the birthday person but then pulling it away at the last second when they reach for the knife. Dancing is strictly voluntary but greatly encouraged. The birthday person eventually must ransom the knife by making a donation to the last dancer with the donation based on the number and quality of the dancing. Once they have the knife, then the cake can be cut. The knife dance is done at any celebration with a cake including weddings.

Just days after the birthday celebrations we were hit by Christmas/New Year's week or as it is known in Russia, Веселого Рождества и счастливого Нового года. As I have previously written China, has begun to embrace Christmas as a holiday (See our Dec. 2008 blogs) and for the first time, the Chinese Government declared New Years day a national holiday with people receiving Saturday, Sunday and Monday off. We enjoyed an early new years celebration dinner hosted by the Foreign Language Department and received some lovely gifts. Dinner included a lovely chicken soup with all the trimmings.

Christmas started with a brunch at the Cornell's which led into an early dinner at a local restaurant. If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck and looks like a duck but has a lovely brown glaze, then it must be a Peking Duck. Turkey was available but priced for only a select few in the restaurant of the 5 Star Shangri La Hotel. (See October 2010 blog for more on the Shangri La). The cost of the buffet ticket was just under 20% of my monthly salary. Budgets decreed that Christmas duck was our cheapest option. A Peking duck is world renowned in duckdom. It starts life as Pekin duck. Pekin duck is a breed of duck that has evolved in China over the last 1000 years. It spends the last 15 days of life being force fed to a fighting weight of 5-7 kg. The demise of the duck usually occurs about 24 hours prior to the oven. The first phase in becoming a Peking Duck is to be eviscerated and have it's skin gently separated from the body fat by blowing air up into the neck cavity. The duck is then meticulously washed with water and boiled for a short period of time. After boiling, it is hung to dry for 24 hours. While hanging it is glazed with a layer of maltose syrup. Traditionally the duck is cooked in a closed, wood fired brick oven. Gaoliang wood is used for fuel and when the fire has gone out the duck is slid into the oven.

About 45 minutes later, the Pekin duck becomes a Peking Duck and is served in three stages. The duck arrives with a chef who gently removes the skin, which is then served to the guests along with a dipping sauce of garlic and sugar. The chef then carves off the meat. The sliced meat is eaten with thin steamed pancakes and bean sauce. You spread the sauce over the pancake then wrap it around the duck meat along with some vegetables. The remaining meat is pulled from the duck, finely minced with a sweet bean sauce and served along with small buns. You stuff the meat into the buns and voila, Chinese quarter pounders.

We celebrated New Years a few days early, attending a wonderful musical and dance celebration organized by our Russian colleagues and their students. Snovum Godum! The phonetic translation of happy New Year in Russian. (See Cyrillic version above) This was followed by a cast party that sadly we had to pass on. My buffet pants had finally met their match. New Years saw us follow our usual tradition and we enjoyed a quiet evening at home with one of my favorite dinners and a bottle of wine. Sadly but happily we will miss the Russian Orthodox (January 7) and Chinese (February 3rd) New Years as we are returning to Canada on January 4th. I can only imagine what other festivals and celebrations we will miss till we return at the end of February.

We managed to fit in the ice festival on our last day in Harbin and of course this included a dinner to close out the evening. I do not have the eloquence to describe this annual Harbin event. I encourage you all to Google, ice festival, Harbin. You will be amazed. The only downside for this event is the sub-zero temperatures required to make this festival possible.

We spent our last night in China in Beijing. We got together with Edoardo and Karen, two of our extended Chinese family and Terry another ex-Harbiner for a dinner in a100+ year old restaurant. Edoardo and Karen have embraced the big city life of Beijing but confess to missing Harbin a little.

A 10 hour flight and a two hour ferry ride found us celebrating a belated Christmas and New Years dinner with Great Grandma and 20 family members. As at most de Lucia dinners, the buffet pants were put to the test and suffice to say they were up to the test. Thanks to Dee and Harv.

For all our Canadian family and friends, we look forward to seeing you all soon and enjoy your festivals. Our adventure continues.