Our Third Voyage Around The World

At some point last year Ileana asked why don’t we go to Samarkand. Very good question, why not? Let’s go. We looked it up, saw that we might need a few days, but if we go there we should also go to Khiva and Bukhara. It might take 10 days, best time to visit should be in the spring or fall. Slowly over several months that idea turned into a trip of three and a half months (104 days) around the world in which we visited 14 countries. Here is a brief summary of what we did. 

First some numbers:

• UNESCO World Heritage Sites (WHS) - 36 (in the text below the number in parentheses identifies the running count).
• Tentative World Heritage Sites (TWHS) - at least 15
• Countries - 14: eight new for both of us, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Pakistan, Oman, Bhutan, the Netherlands was new for me, revisiting England, Turkey, UAE and Thailand, plus of course, Romania.
• Flights - 23, for 29300 miles (46900 km), and at least 75 hours.
• Road trips - give or take 9200 miles (14700 km), some of it on highways and some of it on really picturesque “roads”. 
• 20921 pictures to go through to select a few for you...

Our goal to visit UNESCO World Heritage sites played a major role in the planning of this trip. Ileana had seen a couple more than me and to make it easier to keep track, I asked her to take me to two of them: London’s Kew Garden (245) and Amsterdam’s 17th century Canal Ring Area (248). 

Kew Garden, up in the temperate house

Yakushima

What will this bright and beautiful day bring us? And the ones that come after this one?

A volcano.

And another one.

And there…another.

Nikko

Wake up!

Cameras, spare batteries, some food, water, tickets…let’s go! Today we are going to visit Nikko and we want to beat the crowds. That’s why we leave so early and in such a hurry.

We admire the television tower against the dawn, that’s the only view that we are going to have of it. We enter the metro system and we have to find our way to the train station. Ioan is not feeling very well, sleeping on the floor will do that to someone who is not used to it. Then we wait in line to board the train. Ooops, not ours, better get out of the way. Two more minutes and our shinkansen stops exactly to the sign. We have less then an hour to eat. In Utsunomiya we change the trains and 40 minutes later we arrive in Nikko.

Through the Ainu Land (part 1)

I don’t remember exactly when I’ve heard for the first time about Ainu people, but I liked them instantly. Something about being oppressed. On the verge of disappearing.

It is a beautiful sunny, though cold morning. Too early for the tourists to be up and around. Early even for the Japanese people. We visit again the town, take some pictures at the lake, then in the village. Everything is closed, but there is a gay feeling.

Entrance of the village

First Days

It is so beautiful that it is breathtaking.

I’ll start with the beginning. Work. Restlessness. Ideas of trekking the Annapurna Circuit. And then the yen falls. Should we go to Japan? Yes. No. Why not? That’s a tricky question…What would we see? Something that we didn’t. We buy tickets.

Mihai works. Too many hours. I’m supposed to read the books, find places, rent rooms. To do what he did for the around the world trip. I start full of enthusiasm, and then I deflate: every page is a must see, extraordinary, interesting place. I find myself procrastinating. It is easier to brush up my Japanese, but even there I loose myself in grammar trying to understand the different expressions from Essential Expressions for Surviving in Japan.

I tell him I’m not doing my job. Goody, more work for him! Suddenly 4 weeks are not enough to see Japan. We need 6 months, or even move there so we can see everything. How do you decide how long you are going to stay in one place? Maybe you want to see more, or decide that you’ve already had enough. Better live every day. The only planned elements are the flights in and out, a JR-pass that is valid for two weeks after the first use, our first night in New Chitose and a car, rented for a week.

Bags done. Food done (we fly from Toronto and we need sustenance). We pray for a safe trip and a guardian angel. Mihai films us as we leave. We drive for 7 minutes and as I remember all our actions, I ask: “Where is the food?” We return, pick up the food, Japan 2015- take two.

Kali mera Elada!

Present time (November 30th, 2012):

Duty— You should have written every day!
The writer— I couldn’t, the writing would have been dry, just a bunch of facts, what we did, like a check-off list, no one would have been interested.
The child— Can we play now?
Duty— Now you have to write after almost two months; what would you remember now?
The writer—I’ll write, just leave me alone, don’t carry me to all these new places, give me some time!
The child—I want a roiboos tea!
Duty—We don’t have time! And plus, these new places have to be seen, they are a must, remember that you always wanted to see them!
The writer—OK, let’s see them, but then I won’t write!
The child—And I want to watch a movie!
Duty— You have to write! People are waiting for your blogs!
The writer— Are you kidding me? They live their lives, we’re just entertainment for them, if there is no blog to be read, they just go and find something else!
The child—Look at me! Look at me!
Duty—Then write for us!
The writer—I need peace, and time! Leave me alone, to find my muse, to process those feelings, to make them less personal, to bring a unified image of how it was there, and not the whole material. It was one thing to present Asia, where it was a first contact with a different culture, and another to show Europe. I grew up here, I can tell details, but then I have to explain them, and you don’t give me time!
The child—Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong! Let’s escape!
Duty and the writer—WE CAN’T! WE HAVE TO WRITE THE BLOG!

Two months ago and forward.

Kali mera, Elada! (kah-lee mair-ah) Good morning, Greece!

Sinai

Sabaah el her! (sub-ah-L-hair)

"You speak Arabic? Are you Egyptian?" No, I just like to use my limited knowledge and greet people in their language. Ioan and I, both have a darker skin, Mihai is sporting a beard, most of our skin is covered, our men walk in front, we, the feminine side, follow them, yes, we could be Egyptian. We’re not Muslims, but we could be Coptic Christians, or some other religion that doesn’t require  a woman to cover her head. “Tourist” cries from our behavior, but maybe we’re long time emigrated Egyptians, visiting our country. Sometimes I wonder, do we really have this plasticity to fit different countries or is just a way of the locals to brush our ego?

Good morning from the Sinai Peninsula! We’re here to rest, to dive into oblivion, to do nothing, to forget there is a world outside!

Zeus's Hiding Place

"It’s far away....20 euros!"

"No," says Mihai and walks away. Another taxi driver approaches and gives his price: 15 euros. The first one insists “I’ll take you, 20 euros!” Mihai can’t believe it, there is a lower offer on the table, and the first one insists on his price. NO!

Our hotel is far, far away but it has a kitchenette. While we settle in, Mihai goes to the corner store for a quick grocery shopping. The vendor was eating a pomegranate and offers him a piece, and when Mihai refuses, he puts it anyway in the bag “They are not ripe yet, but they’re sweet.” I’m happy for it, I haven’t had a pomegranate in more than a year, and just before I taste it I say out-loud “Bogdaproste, let it be for the departed souls.” The Greeks are Orthodox Christians, like ourselves, and give alms thinking of the ones who left this life. I don’t know if he intended it as alms, but if he did, I want to recognize it.

We wake up before sunrise, amidst barking and roosters cockle-doodle-dooing. We take a bus, change in town to another one and we arrive at the opening time at Knossos's Palace. The place seems empty, just a few other tourists. We didn’t do our homework, so we don’t know where to go, we’re just following the road. And suddenly we’re there, at the same level with fluted red-browned columns, blue frescoes, mosaics and door jambs made of plaster that imitate the wood grain. And groups of tourists, blocking the view! Suddenly, our main task became to see the bits and pieces in between groups. Their guides talk loudly, and the tourists are hanging on their words, crushing anything in their way. 

Scotland

We are in Europe now. It's almost like home, which means there is much less incentive to write and much less to write about. No more exotic destinations, this is all about places that everybody knows, or has been there, or wants to go there or knows people who've been there and so on. With the girls gone to camp for one week we could choose any place to go. Competing for having us were Scotland, Ireland, Wales, even Norway. We didn't really weigh our options, we picked the first. Edinburgh, the historical Scottish capital and the place of the biggest August festival in Europe. One month of hundreds of shows in one old beautiful city. Checked. Two days to visit the city - crowded, exhausting, wet. It is all under construction, hey will put a tram throughout the center so every street is either dug out or blocked by traffic.

Edinburgh, Scotland

Journal of a Nomad through Vasteland (4)

August 11  

We packed our bags and went to an Ostrich Farm to have a tour. We had to wait for 11 o’clock, and perused the shop. They had simple eggs, decorated, painted, sculpted, transformed in lamp shades. Beside this, feathered dusters, feathered snakes and all sorts of things made from the ostrich skin (it looks geometrically bumpy). Needless to say everything was so expensive. On the grounds there was an old round school that housed the names of people who donated for the new school. We found three Romanians and one guy who was from the country Texas (sic!).

What we learned about ostrich farms: they started in 1800’s because the fashion of that time required fluffy feathers. At some point they sold one ostrich feather for its weight in gold. The “feather barons” built themselves beautiful houses, including a pool for 15 people, but that was never used (it would require the water supply for a year). When the fashion changed there was a slum, but they changed too—now they are growing them for meat. Ostriches are not bright, they have only 40 grams of brain, so any enriching program failed. They go for their fellows’ backs, pecking their feathers off. 

The highlight of the visit was riding ostriches (same as Moco in "Two Years of Vacation" by Jules Verne). Mihai and myself got to mount one (we’re overweight by ostrich-riding rules). The bird had its chest in a V-stall, and a man was holding it in there from behind. The back was wide, and warm. I petted its neck, it had a warm snake feeling, it was awesome. The children had a blast! It was very close to rain, and there were other people with children, but for some reason the guide took a like to us and invited our children first, before rain started. They were supposed to climb on the bird’s back, hold onto the wings, cross their ankles at the front. A guy would take off the bag that covered the ostrich’s head and start yelling, and another one would hold my child from behind so s/he would not fall. The bird would start running around and all the others, slowing themselves down. Ileana was laughing, happy, no constraints. Ioan too. Maria was still waiting for the exciting part to start, she felt comfortable as on a horse.

South Africa again

There are very few options of getting to Africa from Asia, and aiming for the southern part of the continent there is only one major hub: Johannesburg. Especially when considering our trip to Madagascar, this was our only choice. We wanted to go to Cape Town and I envisioned a loop through Botswana, Zambia and Namibia. It was only shortly before our arrival that Ileana Ruxandra asked: "what are we going to do for one month in Africa?" I explained my ideas and Ileana asked another logical question, "if we are in South Africa why don't we see the country?" I didn't know what to answer, after all what is to see in South Africa?

We belong.

Journal of a nomad through Vasteland (3)

August 6

The perfect birthday! The loved ones around me (at least part of them), everybody on their best behavior, no material gifts, just the ones for the heart and mind, and spring. Can you imagine? My birthday was never in the spring, always summer, with the sun, the heat, the warm water. But today it was spring, though the calendar says it is winter! With lovely forget-me-not flowers and other ones, yellow, and some white flowering bushes. 

Journal of a nomad through Vasteland

July 22nd

Hello South Africa! 

The Big, Small, Little and the Dascalus

Getting to Africa is a big step in our journey, it is the 9th month and a whole new continent. We are on our way to Madagascar but because we arrived Sunday and the only plane tickets to the island were on Saturday, leaving us with 6 nights and 5 days, we decided to go to Kruger national park. A brilliant choice.

Cheetah

In Kruger, having only three days to see all we can, we look around

Tsingy and Baobabs

Road, what does it mean? “A wide way leading from one place to another, especially one with a specially prepared surface that vehicles can use” says the dictionary. I like that part with specially prepared surface. Here is missing. We have almost 5 hours to travel to the “Parc National de Madagascar, Tsingy de Bemaraha”. The wide way is just one lane that resembles red mountains and valleys at a smaller scale. On the sides there are walls of vegetation, grass, or bushes, or young eucalyptus trees (they grow rapidly, when they are five years old, they cut them for charcoal, and from the stumps will grow new shoots). If two cars meet, one will squish itself on the side and the other will pass.

It feels like we’re training to become astronauts or we have a particular contest for fitness. In order to keep our heads not bobbing we need to move our bodies, and soon enough we feel all our muscles. After one hour we take a break, I’m so nauseous. The only relief comes when we’re passing small bridges, when all four wheels are on the same level, and for an instant we glide. It’s briefness makes it more precious. At some point there are children shoveling dust from the sides back in the holes. They are repairing the road. But every passing car, and every gust of wind sends in the air half of their work. It doesn’t matter, they wave happily.

At the entrance of a village, under a shade tree, women and children are gathered. Three women, long poles in their arms, are taking turns in pounding them in a tall tub. They are “grinding” rice. From their looks this work is back breaking. They don’t have the money to buy a machine to grind it or to pay for the electricity that it would consume.

Tsiribihina

In 2009, National Geographics ran an article about a strange, unique place at the end of the world, Tsingy de Bemaraha. It took the reporters several days to reach it and they described countless dangers, including the high risk of an accident. With medical help days away, slipping on one of the sharp rock needles could have cut an artery and kill the photographer. No way we would make it there, I thought, but Ileana Ruxandra and Ioan had other ideas. We designed our whole trip to Madagascar to allow us to reach the tsingys and here is how we managed to get there.

Grand Tsyngy, Tsingy de Bemaraha

Gently Down The Stream

“I want to go to that place with rocks sharp like a knife!” Mihai draws a blank. He stares at me like I’m an alien. I can’t say how many times he asked me what I want to see or do, never giving a straight answer, and now that we are in Madagascar I tell him about a place that I read several years ago in National Geographic’s magazine. Looking for it, we found that it is called Tsingy de Bemaraha (tszeen-ghee deh bem-ah-rah-ha), it is in the west of the country and to get there it would require several days and a 4WD. Unfazed by the difficulties and the price I claim almost two weeks from our time, not to mention the strain on our bodies and nerves.

Is This Real?

We are in a tiny ancient car, zig-zagging slowly on the best parts of the road, almost stopping to cross potholes. The only light, coming from our head beams, illuminates towering gnarled trees. The air is heavy with a sweet smell. 

Tenga sua (ten-gah sue-ah) in Madagascar! Welcome in Madagascar.

We had one of the most pleasant flights, with large chairs and free leg space, a really tasty meal (with a choice of beer, wine and martini) and stewardesses who had a genuine smile. Ioan and myself are to be blamed for coming to this part of the world. He doesn’t remember why, maybe because of the Madagascar movies, but I wanted to see this “flora and fauna” gem. 

The Eighth Continent

Believe it or not, but some people don't know where Madagascar is. Most people don't know that it is truly special and nobody actually knows how special it is. There are isolated areas where no scientist has ever made it and they think that there are plenty of undiscovered species. Madagascar broke away from the corner of East Africa some 160 million years ago and, that I really like, some 80 million years ago, the eastern part of Madagascar broke off to become the future... India. Isolated, the island took its own evolutionary course and subsequently 70% of its plants and 90% of its animals are endemic. Madagascar alone accounts for 5% of the number of species known to man. There are 71 species of lemurs, some mammals similar to monkeys yet different, still distant cousins of ours. Humans only arrived 2000 years ago and did their usual share of damage, but there is still a lot left. They came from different corners of the Indian Ocean and melted into a unique culture. The language has the closest relative on the island of Borneo. For all the above reasons, Madagascar is often considered the eighth continent, a world in itself that doesn't resemble anything else on Earth. Ioan wanted to come here, probably inspired by the animated movie, but he did a decent share of studying and preparing this segment. We were all on board and made this an important part of our trip.

Kruger National Park

We were forced by airline schedules to break our trip to South Africa in two parts, one week first, before our flight to Madagascar and the second stretch for four weeks when we return. The first week was dedicated to a trip East to Kruger National Park, the jewel of South Africa and "one of the best safari" in the whole of Africa.

Noi6 Around the World

For ever it will remain a mystery of this trip: who and when