Lunch time Namibian beer in honor of St. Patrick's Day

Happy belated St. Patrick’s Day from Cape Town.  If I know you, and I think I do, I bet you spent St. Patty’s Day drunk in a bar drinking green beer at noon.  Shame on you!  Unlike “some people,” I was out exploring Cape Town on the giant red double decker hop on/hop off bus blue route.  The blue route is the scenic route.  I stopped off at the Kirstenbosch botanical gardens, which is impressive and massive.  I walked around a bit and hopped back on the bus to do a township tour in Hout Bay.  The same township tour that I did the “drive by” with my friends the day before.  I feel like as far as townships go, I was in one of the more chichi ones and that I got a “vanilla” tour.  ”Kenny,” one of the community leaders picked me up at the hop on bus stop along with some weird guy who was a few fries short of a Happy Meal and he kept trying to touch me.  I was like “please don’t touch me” and he just stared at me instead.  I was definitely reconsidering the tour at this point.  Anyway, I paid my 50 rand ($5) and off Kenny, Happy Meal, and I went.  

There are clearly different levels of the standard of living within the township.  There were about 500 nice houses that the Irish version of habitat built and the rest of the 5000 or so houses are shanties.  I went into two of the Irish built houses and they were bigger than I thought they would be and they had multiple tvs in them.  I was like what the heck chuck?  I don’t even have more than one tv!  They had washers/dryers as well (again, I don’t even have that…well not legal ones anyway).  In that township there were 21 hair salons, one public library, and 63 pubs.  I went into one of the Sheebans and the booze was guarded by a woman who was in a locked room and you could purchase cocktails via giving her money through the bank teller like screen made of chicken wire .  I was surprised to find a brand new pool table in the Sheeban.  After the bar tour, my guide took me on a shopping tour.  I think he was trying to bleed me for money.  It appeared that the plan was to get me liquored up at the Sheeban and then spend a lot of time in the church/community center which also served as a crafts market.  I thought it was funny when I saw a bodega like store owned by Somalians called the New York Store, which claimed to have “anything you need.”  Really?  Can I get a burrito? Because I’m craving Mexican at the moment.  

The highlight of the day was having dinner at Mama Africas on Long Street and getting my “game on,” (pun intended).  I had the best meal in Africa there.  I ordered the kudu, springbok kebab, followed by a springbok/kudu potjie (pronounced poykee-a Cape Malay stew like dish).  O.M.G.! That alone was worth the 5lbs that I’ve gained here.  I also had a delicious Amarula cream on the rocks as an apertif.  It’s a local liquor compared to Bailey’s, but I think it’s far more delish than Bailey’s and has a mild and refreshing fruity taste.  Oh and lots of delish wine with dinner.  If I had died at that point, I would’ve said that I had lived a full, rather satisfying life.  

The rest of St. Patty’s day took a turn for the worst when we went to the ONE Irish bar on Long Street.  One of the members of our group was going to bribe the doorman to cut the line, but it turned out not to be necessary and we lasted all of 3 minutes there before realizing we were too old to deal with an overcrowded bar.  Our would be briber later remarked, “I can’t believe I was going to pay money to get in there.”  It was that bad!

From there we took our lives into our own hands when we took a cab home that was driven by an insane Zimbabwean cab driver who may very well have been under some illegal substance.  Thankfully, the luck of the Irish was with us and we arrived home safely.

Cape Town is South Beach meets San Diego meets San Francisco meets Chicago.  It’s SoBe because of the restaurants and the beautiful people that line Camps Bay and Clifton Beach, it’s San Diego because everyone is riding their bikes or running along the beach and being healthy in the way that makes vacation vino loving tourists feel slightly guilty, it’s San Fran because of the houses that are built into the hills and it’s Chitown because Cape Town can be very windy.  Cape Town is more beautiful than any of them though.  The scenery is breathtaking and it’s as if all of Cape Town is a moody artist’s canvas that the artist is constantly revising depending upon the time of day.

Today I set out to explore the Bo Kaap area of Cape Town on my own.  Bo Kaap is an area of Cape Town that is famous for its brightly colored houses, reminiscent of Buenos Aires’ La Boca neighborhood.  It’s also the area where the Cape Malay muslim residents reside and where one must try Bobotie, a Cape Malay dish.  The area is kind of built up in guide books as a “must see” destination, but other than a few rando streets that house the well photographed colorful houses, there’s not a lot to do there.  However, I did stumble upon some art galleries and craft stores.  The area is in the process of being gentrified and I noticed a B&B.  I also noticed a pretty cool looking purple house for sale and envisioned the idea of buying it and opening up my own B&B.  It’s a romantic idea and not entirely impractical as the labor costs here are insanely cheap, e.g., my friend’s housekeeper is paid $10-15 a day to clean the house, do laundry, and iron it. Hell, it costs more than that in New York to get my laundry done by people whose English skills are suspect and I’m left wondering if they’ve understood my request to separate my whites and colors and to add fabric softener.

After exploring Bo Kaap and pleading to the camera battery gods not to die on me, I wandered down to the famous Long Street in the “City Bowl,” i.e., the Central Business District.  I expected lots of cool boutiques, cafes, galleries, bars and restaurants and although it definitely had those things, it was a little Bohemian/Backpackers paradise for my taste.  However, it did allow me to explore the “African” markets.  Although I love to decorate my apartment with various artwork and tchotchke I pick up while abroad, I was disappointed in the markets.  Mainly, all of the markets in Southern Africa that sell “African” goods appear to be mass produced and/or aren’t from the area.  Frankly, I’m not interested in a mask from West Africa, of which there were plenty.  It was at the Pan African Market where guys from Cameroon and Senegal started speaking French to me.  Random!   I’m not even sure how it happened.   All I did was ask if the masks were West African and the next thing I know they’re asking me en francais if I’m a Capetonian as I “look like one” (why because I’m blanca)?  I take that with a grain of salt as someone else asked me if I was from the islands (which islands?  The Seychelles?).   Speaking of being mistaken for a local, I was asked to give directions to Table Mountain while in Bo Kaap and while I was holding a camera.  To give you some perspective, that’s like asking somene in Time Square who is taking a picture in front of the Jumbotron  for directions to the Empire State building…kinda obvious that they’re a tourist and kinda obvious where the Empire State Building is (look up dude, look up to the sky).

I later met up with the girls and we drove out to Chapman’s Peak in Hout Bay to watch the sunset.  On the drive back we randomly wandered into a “township.”  As defined by the infallable wikipedia, a “township” is a term that “usually refers to the (often underdeveloped) urban living areas that, under Apartheid, were reserved for non-whites (principally black Africans and Couloureds, but also working class Indians).”  In my observations, townships are 100% black and it’s not usual for white people to be in them unless they’re on a township tour.  In many ways, they’re like flavelas in Rio, i.e., a village full of tin shacks set up by squatters (in South Africa they’re called something like unofficial residents) that are entirely self-sustainng.  We snapped a few pics on the DL and then drove home and capped the night off with some good food, good wine, and some South African companionship.  Not too shabby of a day, if you ask me.

I arrived in Cape Town at 11 p.m. on Saturday night, which was just enough time to get settled and catch a good night sleep (crucial as we were waking up early for a tour of the wine land region).  The South African wine region is about an hours drive from Cape Town and is very reminiscent of Napa and Sonoma.  We hired a driver, which is key!  His name was Wilmart and he introduced himself by saying “you know Walmart, well my name is Vilmart, like Walmart.”  Ok, Vilmart…can you rollback the price of being our private driver then like Walmart does?  No?

Our first stop was Noble Hill, owned by an American family and is located in Paarl.  The son, a Harvard grad, helps out.  He spent a large part of his life growing up in Nigeria and the family has an agricultural background.  Talk about a dream life-moving to one of the most beautiful areas in the world and working on your family’s vineyard.  Noble Hill was by far my fav vineyard (although not my favorite South African wine.  Experiencing my favorite SA wine would have to wait until I visited some local restaurants).  But because my friends were local celebrities there (basically because they were such Noble Hill wine lushes), we got the VIP treatment there and we were slightly buzzed by 11 a.m. 

From Noble Hill we headed to Glen Carlou also in Paarl Valley…pretty vineyard and one of the women working there is from a Cali wine family and her father named a wine after her, but our “sommelier” was a bit of a jerk so that diminished the experience.  It didn’t stop me from buying a pinot there, but when I went to pay for it with my credit card the guy was visibly and verbally annoyed.  He signed loudly when I produced the card and told me he hated credit cards.  I told him that he could either take the card or forget it.  Can you imagine?  

We then went to the town of Franschhoek  to have a decadent lunch at Le Bon Vivant.  The wine was spectacular and the beef medallion was to DIE for (pictures to come)!  I could’ve skipped the starter though, but 2 out of three ain’t bad!  Due to the time constraints, we skipped over to another wine region called Constantia.  We went to a few vineyards there…they were so-so, but I picked up a 2005 pinotage of  Groot Constantia (2005 was an excellent year for South African wine).   Pinotage is a signature South African grape. which I love.  Looking back, I probably should’ve devoted another day to wine tasting in the wine regions, but it wasn’t like I was deprived of wine the rest of my time in Cape Town as each dinner always contained a minimum of 2-3 various bottles of new wines.

We finished the tour around six and said good by to one of our friends who headed back to gloomy London.  Luckily, he’s moving to New York in a few weeks and I plan on dragging him to all things African in New York.  In his honor though we deemed it appropriate to open a bottle of pinotage to have with dinner.   Trader Joes better start expanding its South African wine selection.  That’s all I have to say on the matter!

Today was our last day in Kruger.  We had a slow day, but we finally saw hippos out of the water during the day!  There were two of them playing in and out of the water.  I’m really hoping the pictures come out because I got a picture of one totally going “Marv Albert” and biting its friend’s butt.   So, fingers crossed that I can one day frame the hippo butt biting shot and mount it on the mantel (listen people at least I’m not one of those sickos who want to mount the actual hippo above my mantel and look at it while sipping Johnnie Walker Blue and smoking a monte cristo).  We also finally saw an obstinate of buffalo (the technical term for a herd of buffalo) as opposed to the lone male buffalo on the loose (apparently older males will get sick of the match.com mating race and leave the herd).  There must’ve been close to 300 of them.  They’re funny animals to watch.  Unlike a lot of other animals who would ignore us as if we were peasants unworthy of their attention, buffalo would stand there and stare at us, turn their noses up at us, and try to smell us.  We watched them for like 20-30 minutes.  There was a mating scene, which was interrupted by another buffalo who was “blocking.”  We also saw a mini-stampede, but it was quelled before it got out of hand (not sure I would’ve wanted to be near that, even if we were in an SUV).

The last game we saw before leaving the park was a family of elephants complete with 2 or 3 babbies in the group.  Unfortunately, the tall grass prevented us from taking great pictures.  We reluctantly said our goodbyes to Kruger and spent the next 8 hours driving back to Johannesburg via the “Panoramic route,” the scenic route through the Drakensburg Mountains stopping at Three Rondavels (the coolest sight by far), Lincoln Falls, and God’s Window (not initially on the tour, but Neil took a detour at my request).  We had lunch at a pancake place, which was sort of a cross between a pancake and a thick crepe because the “pancakes” had fillings and were folded like burritos.  After lunch we headed to Pilgrim’s Rest, an old goldmining town that has been preserved as a tourist town, and then finished the 4 hour drive from there to Joburg in relative non-descript scenery.  We hugged and said our goodbyes and Uncle Neil dropped me off at the airport and I headed to Cape Town.  

Thanks Kruger for a wonderful safari.  I know I’ll see you again one day.

Day 3 of the safari

I have an overwhelming desire to watch the Lion King.  It might be because I keep seeing Zazou flying all over Kruger (the yellow-horn bill bird) and I keep saying Zazou ever time I see one.  I’m sure the honeymooners are tired of me shouting out Zazou, but I’m tired of the groom bagging on America so whatever  Zazou, Zazou, Zazou!!!!

Another early morning wake up call so that we could be one of the first out of the gates at 5:30 a.m.  The camps at Kruger are all gated and the gates open at 5:30 a.m. and close at 6:00 p.m. and you better be in the camp come 6.  The theory of being the first out of the gate is that you have a better chance of seeing a lion sleeping on the road before any other cars disturb it.  Today was a slow day for game viewing though. It started out promising when we were greeted by a hippo’s grande derriere when our hungry, hungry hippo was walking down the road.  Unfortunately, it was too dark to snap a picture.   Hippos only come out at night or on overcast days because their skin is so sensitive to the sun (why am I thinking of the maneater song right now by Hall and Oats…you know the one I’m thinking of, don’t deny it!.  Sing it avec moi, “she only comes out at night, the lean and hungry type…oh oh, here she comes…watch out boy, she’ll chew you up”).  We later saw a mommy hippo and her tiny baby at the watering hole.  It was adorbs.  It was pretty slow the rest of the day save for some zebras, giraffes, and the ever present impalas.  We were only like half a mile from the Mozambique border and about 10 miles from the actual road that takes you over to the Mozambique side of the park, I wanted us to go all Thelma & Louise and gun it for the border, but sadly we stayed in Kruger.

I was so tired today that while we were out driving in the bush, I would doze off  for like 10 seconds at a time.  I was awake, but not really.  I was at full attention though when we saw a buffalo up close.  Of course, as soon as we went to take his picture, he sat down.  We went a little off road to get his picture (a bit of a no-no in Kruger, unless you’re at one of the private concessions in Kruger, which cater to the uber well off foreign tourists).  We also got close to some baboons (they’re generally scardy cats and will run as soon as they see a camera pointed at them, but this one was totally a camera whore and enjoyed hogging the spotlight). 

However, the ultimate highlights of the day included seeing a herd of elephants up close (they passed right by our car…I could’ve reached out and touched them, if I were so stupid as to do that).  The UBER coolest thing of the day was seeing two lionesses walking down the road about 10 minutes before the camp gates were closed.  What was even cooler about it was that we were the car who spotted the lions as opposed to piggybacking on someone else’s spotting.

We had a game night drive tonight.  Neil stayed behind and cooked us this delicious chicken stew, which we didn’t eat until after 9:30.  I was so tired that all I really wanted to do was to climb into bed.  The feeling must’ve been a feeling shared by all because we didn’t even crack open the second nightly bottle of wine.  The night drive was kinda crap.  Our Kruger guide sucked and we had overzealous Japanese tourists who kept spotting spring hares and African wild cats (looks like a tabby cat) every five seconds.  He would shout out “STOP,” with such enthusiasm, you would’ve thought that he had spotted a lion killing its prey.  We saw some hippos, porcupines, waterbuck, owls, crocs and a few other things, but it was generally a snoozer, but that’s the thing about game drives…you win some, you lose some and over all I think we’ve been pretty darn lucky!  

Day two of the Safari

We woke up at 4:30 a.m. and had a quick breakfast of coffee/tea and “rusks,” which according to wikipedia is a “rectangular, hard, dry biscuit or twice-baked bread (zwieback),” which we dipped into our hot morning beverage of choice.  They were delicious!  In a way, it has the consistency of biscotti and it tastes sweet.  After that we loaded up our gear and headed off to the Letaba camp, which is north of Skukuza, the camp we stayed at after our first night.  I was tired, but energized by the thought of the day ahead of us.  

The day started out slow, we didn’t see much to begin with, but we finally started seeing impala (basically a type of antelope that I’ve termed the “rabbits of the bush,” because there are so many of them).  We saw more wildebeests, buffalo, hippos, water monitors, waterbuck, kudu, zebras (including babies), giraffes (also including babies), elephants, and a whole bunch of birds.  We saw one lone old man elephant who was near death.  Apparently, elephants get 5 sets of molars and once their 5th set of molars starts to get too worn out the elephant will die of malnutrition.  It’s sad and they are such incredible creatures, one of my favorites!  I went to the elephant museum in Kruger and I read that elephants are known to bury the dead…they will cover up other dead elephants, hunters, and other animals with leaves once they die.   

We also saw hyenas up close and personal!  Talk about scary looking animals.  One hyena was like 2 feet from my car window.  You want to talk about being freaked out!  But the piece de resistance was seeing 5 male lions hanging out at the side of the road with one female lioness.  They were mostly sleeping and just chillaxing.  Apparently, it’s rarer to see male lions because they just sleep 20 hours a day and wait for the lionesses to bring them their food.  Typical!  However, one of the male lions got up and started walking towards the car in front of us.  I wish my camera was quick enough to catch it!  I got some great pictures of the lions and pray they turn out!   Evidently, lions and hyenas are arch enemies, which naturally made me think of the Lion King.  According to my boy Neil, if a lion kills a hyena, it will refuse to eat it and vice versa.  On another note, we were told there we leopards in the area, but we didn’t see any and leopards would be one of the only Big Five that we didn’t see.

As far as my fellow safari companions, I’ve decided that Neil is like the cool camping South African uncle I’ve never had, even though he’s old enough to be my father.  He speaks English, Afrikaans, Xhosa (the clicking language), and Zulu and greets people in their native tongue.  I love the English chick, but her “everything is better in Britain” husband grates on my nerves.

I’m so in awe with nature right now, well in a civilized, not sleeping in a tent kinda way.  I’m now dreading going back to New York and wondering if I could hack it as a safari camp guide on a private reserve.  Then again I must remind myself that I’m not living real life right now and that I’ve felt like packing all my worldly belongings in 2 suitcases and saying sayonara to New York at some point during the last 5 trips I’ve taken (with the exception of my trip to the Middle East).  Nevertheless, right now I’m loving Mother Africa!

After my first day in Kruger, I can now confidently answer the question of who I would want to most meet that is either living or dead.  It’s not the Dalai Lama, or Ghandi, or my boy Senor Jesus (I’ll see him again one day anyway), it’s Hemingway.  I’ve always been fascinated by that little lush and his adventures (fighting in the war in Spain, liberating the Ritz in Paris, what’s not to love).  Lately and for obvious reasons, I’ve been drawn to his writings on Africa.  Here’s my African tale:

Day One of the Safari:

I met my guide, Neil, at my hotel, which was in a posh section of Johburg and another English couple in their 30s who happened to be on their honeymoon.  When I heard that I said, “funny, so am I,” and I told them my solo honeymoon idea, but I digress.  Neil was amazing.  He knows everything about everything and was a great guide to have.  On our way up to Kruger, we went for a drive through the Drakensburg mountain range and stopped off in Neilspruit, one of the closest town to Kruger, where we did a massive amount of grocery shopping for our daily braai’s (South African term for BBQ).  Neil planned out amazing meals for us, which he would cook us every night.  After a quick picnic lunch we were on our way to Kruger.

After waiting a lifetime to be here, I couldn’t believe I was actually in Kruger Park and was largely in disbelief.  At first I was skeptical that we would see much game because it’s the rainy season and the bush is thick and because water is plentiful, the animals aren’t forced to visit the watering holes.  20 minutes in and we weren’t seeing much even though we were in rhino territory.  Rhinos, along with buffalos, lions, elephants, and leopards are part of the “Big Five” (they were named that because during my boy Hemingway’s time they were the hardest to hunt).  However, we started spotting the ever popular impala, followed by elephants and zebras (btw, I think we pronounce zebra incorrectly and that the Brits say it right…we say zeebra, but they say zeb-rah like the way “Debra” is pronounced).  We started to get into the grove and spotted a few white rhinos.  We later saw some rhinos hanging out with some wildebeests (huge animals) and warthogs and we would later see them with baboons.  We saw kudu, springbok, steenbok, vultures, and some rando birds.  I didn’t really give a flying hoot for the birds, but the Brits were into them.

After a full game drive we had a fantastic braai at our camp and by camp I mean that we’re staying at one of the “camps” in Kruger, but that we’re staying in air conditioned rondavels with our en suite bathrooms.  The braai consisted of chicken, beef, and ostrich, baby potatoes, salad, and yummy wine.  We also snacked on Biltong (basically South African jerky) made out of many types of game meat…we had springbok, kudu, and ostrich types.  So, I can now add those to the list of random meats, I’ve eaten.  After the feast, I collapsed in my bed and slept like a baby, which was awesome since we have 4:30 a.m. wake up calls.

Mother Nature at Work

The falls were fantastically amazing.  They definitely rank as one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen.  I first saw them in the morning as I wandered the 500 or so feet off the hotel grounds to the Zambian side of the falls.  I heard the falls before I could see them.  I was ridiculously stoked (for lack of a better word) when I saw them.  I went alone (the rest of the group slept in) and basically I was talking out loud to myself about how freaking cool it was there.  I walked down until the part of the falls where the water from the falls started to become rain and drench anyone who dared get close enough to them.  When I went the next day with friends we went even further and went as far as the “Knife and Fork” bridge, which is a bridge right next to the falls.  We thought of crossing it, but there was zero point to that as there was zero visibility and 100% drench factor. 

It’s hard to say which side is more impressive and I can now understand why people are divided over this issue (I read a ton about which side was “better” before I left the US).  I suppose if I had a gun to my head, I’d say the Zimbabwean side for its sheer mass, but the proximity that can be obtained from the Zambian side made me a bit more in awe. 

The People

I found the Zambian and Zimbabweans to be extremely friendly, beautiful, and helpful.  In a personality contest, the Zambians win hands down over their neighbours.  Perhaps that has more to do with the current political climate in Zimbabwe.  The tension at the border town was palpable and some of the Zim’s had a certain edge to them.  There was a level of sadness and abject poverty that permeated the town, but that was also juxtaposed against the government workers and Zim elite who were dropping dollars like they were hot.  For example, we went to this crap restaurant called the “Chicken Inn,” that our guide recommended to us.  He said it was the “best” restaurant in town and that “everyone is talking about it.”  Our meals were like $7 each, which is an expensive meal for them, but it was packed (yet kids were begging right outside of the Chicken Inn).   On a side note, it’s very possible that I might still end up with cholera from eating there.  We hated the place…there was a problem with nearly everyone’s bill and the cashier refused to give one of the guy’s his change, claiming she didn’t have it (she later relented).  I was owed 50 cents and she looked in the register and grabbed some random coin from Botswana, shrugged her shoulders, and handed it to me.  That’s going to come in handy!

I just loved the Zambians though.  I was invited by some local Zambian women to have breakfast with them.  Although after the breakfast at the hotel, it would’ve been impossible for me to scarf down any food, I did enjoy a chat with the ladies.  What did we talk about?  Men, of course!  My favourite lady of the group is in the process of getting a divorce.  I think she had watched one too many Knots Landings though because she had an impression that it was super easy to get divorced in the U.S.

On Currency

Almost all fees are paid in US dollars, however, not everyone had enough dollars so we had to go to the bank that was only open from 8-12 (how about them hours), it took over an hour to get the money.  At one point in an attempt to save time, one guy tried to use the ATM to get 600K in the local currency called Kwacha (the equivalent of about $100) and even though he pressed the 600K, the ATM dispensed only 400K.  When he went into the bank to complain, the teller was like “don’t worry man, the buttons don’t correspond to what you’re given.”  Right!

Oh and BTW, we did sort of turn their currency into a swear word as in “You’re being a real Kwacha.”  It works!

On traveling alone

While traveling on the bus by myself (save for a nice German couple), I was thinking how my dream is to travel the world and write about it.  However, as a solo traveller that means that I have now started the portion of my trip where I’m “married” for the next 4 days or until some “foxy” guy appears.  I’m calling it my “Vegas celebrity marriage,” in other words, I’m giving myself a divorce in 4 days.  What does this mean?  I’m wearing a fake wedding ring, something which I do on occasion when I travel alone so I don’t get hassled (don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m beating them away with a stick, but I’ve learned in some cultures it’s better to pretend to be married if you’re travelling as a single woman).

Wild on the Zambezi.

Forget Ibiza, forget Miami or even Rio, they’re so “been there, done that, got the body paint,” the next spring break hot spot is Zambia.  We took a sunset cruise on the “African Queen” on the “Mighty” Zambezi river (this is the Vic Fall’s River).  It was supposed to be a safari cruise, but it quickly became a booze cruise after only seeing some fickle hippos who refused to stick any part of their body out of the water for longer than 3.5 seconds and after our party of six took advantage of the open bar.  Our waiter was Alfred and every time I said his name, I wanted to say “to the bat mobile.”  (Don’t ask me why).  Alfred was amused by us after we started ordering 2 drinks at a time (Stop judging, service was slow).  He really started laughing when people starting ordering two doubles (the drinks were too weak for our group’s booze friendly palates).  One guy gave up on the doubles and just started ordering vodka on the rocks (a move that I predicted someone in the group would make).  There was a near international incident between the Americans and the Japanese tourists when we got back to the bus 4 minutes late.  After the cruise ended, we had stayed to finish our drinks and to have our picture taken with Alfred.  This Japanese lady wasn’t having any of our tardiness.  The irony was it wasn’t like she had any other place to be at 7 p.m.  It wasn’t like we were making her late for a broadway show.  There is no nightlife in Livingstone, Zambia (well aside from us).  The town is super small…the hotel is about a 15 minute drive from the hotel, you have to hire a car, and there’s no reason you’d have to go into town so our Japanese lady was basically going back to the hotel to grab some grub and watch bad tv. 

After the cruise we went to dinner at our hotel which offers an expensive buffet dinner (it wasn’t until our last night there that we discovered that there was a secret, less publicized inexpensive restaurant on the grounds).  Anyway, not all of us wanted a big dinner (after several happy time cocktails, I just wanted a “healthy” order of French fries).  Believe it or not we negotiated the price of dinner!  The guys paid full price because they wanted to pig out, while two of the ladies got the dinner for ¼ of the price.  When I tried to order the French fries, our waiter was like “Ok, $10,” which I then negotiated to $3.00 only to find out that the fry machine was broken.  It was a hysterical conversation though:

Me: Can I get just fries?

Him: Ok, $10.

Me: I wouldn’t even pay $10 at home.

Him: Ok, how much would you pay?

Me: At most $3.00.

Him: “Ok, $3.00.”

He later didn’t even charge the ladies for dinner.  However, when we were checking out we noticed a random gratuities charge of $300, needless to say that charge got 86’d.  I was thinking “um, you slip a $300 charge on our bill and you think we’re not going to notice?”  Um, it’s not like we’ve got The Donald’s bank account people!  However, all in all, I must say I loved the Zambians…they’re very lovely and very friendly!  They’re good people!

I remember once reading some chicken soup for the soul like book that advised doing something new every day. On the day I went to Zimbabwe I did 3 new things (and it wasn’t going to Zimbabwe).  But before I get to that, a few words about our trip.  We had to sit at the border while our driver did who knows what at the border.  While we were waiting, we saw this baboon nearly attack two African ladies dressed in the fruit dresses.  I wish I had a video camera at the time because it would’ve ended up on Africa’s funniest videos.  Our naughty baboon even tried walking into the immigration office (perhaps he was in the market for a visa), but after he had enough with the bureaucracy, he decided to do a little dumpster diving and opened up the trash can and jumped in.  Again I wish I had it on video, I could’ve been a youtube millionaire.

When we were in line to get our passports stamped, a line full of Africans blatantly cut in front of us.  Our driver had to reprimand them and they were like “oh we didn’t know they were in line.”  I laughed.  The boldfaced lying would become a common theme on the Zimbabwe side.  Anyway we crossed the border and rolled into Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe and took a tour of the falls, which was amazing!  The sheer volume of noise that the falls generate during the wet season was at times nearly deafening.   There were times when we had to put on raincoats because the mist from the falls was so powerful that it felt like it was pouring outside.  It was an experience, I’ll never forget.

1) Riding the Elephants

Now onto the “new” experiences.  We took an elephant backed safari. Although I wasn’t scared, when I was sitting 15 feet off the ground on top of my elephant Miss Ellie, it was a little bit unnerving at first.  Oh and I should say that an hour before we were to ride the elephants, we were caught up in a torrential downpour, the likes of which must’ve rivaled Noah’s ark building days, and we tried to ask what would happen if the rain didn’t stop, everyone was like “it won’t rain.”  BTW, we rode the ellies in the rain in giant raincoat body suits.  I took to calling them “fat suits,” because they made us all look like we weighed 300lbs.  Despite the rain, it was a super cool experience and the landscape was stunning.  My girl adopted a little orphan who never left Miss Ellie’s side.  Basically, I rode the Angelina Jolie of elephants.  After we rode the ellies, we fed them and had some cocktails.  Two of the guys at the ranch were white Zimbabweans and I was dying to ask them what it was like to be white there (fyi-there’s a government supported program of seizing land owned by white farmers, a program that’s helped jettison the country into the hyperinflation that it’s in…they’ve pretty much abandoned their currency for the dollar after the gov’t printed 100 trillion dollar bills…yes you read that right).  Unfortunately, the situation never presented itself.

2) Croc’s Are More than Just Ugly shoes

I’m on a mission to taste every rando type of food (except bugs) that I can while I’m here so when crocodile was offered at our hotel’s buffet, I thought “what the hell Dundee, let’s roll.”  What’s it taste like?  If you said chicken, you’d be wrong.  It tastes more like a tough pork chop.  I don’t recommend it.

3) Someone call INS, there’s a rogue American on the loose

So, it’s very possible a crime was committed while crossing back into Zambia as one of the people in our group was improperly documented, which is to say he only paid for a single entry visa rather than a double entry (basically the visa guy at the airport refused to sell him a double entry visa) so he had to be smuggled back into the country.  Who knew the trip would involve smuggling an American into Zambia?