Wandering the 'Bul (Istanbul, Turkey)

March/April, 2011 – After my medical adventure I pretty much went into hiding. The weather was abysmal (i.e. cold and rainy) so I forced myself to catch up on the blog. With two months of pictures and journal notes to sift through there was a lot to do. Luckily, the weather was my enabler. So I hunkered down in a rented apartment and let the updating begin.

I mostly cooked my own food and, at least in the beginning, barely left my lair. In all I rented three apartments all within walking distance of Taksim Square, the heart of Istanbul and a great place to feel the city's pulse. Of course, I was not a complete misanthrope. I made a few friends via Couchsurfing.org and spent a fair amount of time with them and wandering the city all by my lonesome.

I defy you to visit Istanbul and not drink a shit ton of tea or smoke an ass load of hooka. It almost feels like a requirement. Not only that it can be an extremely pleasant undertaking....until you make yourself nauseous from all the tobacco. And frankly, I am surprised I have any teeth remaining after guzzling tea that was equal parts sugar and water. Damn yummy.

If Taksim Square is the heart of Istanbul then Istiklal Avenue is its main artery. Millions of people traverse this pedestrian walkway on any given day. Anything and everything can be found of this street. Shops, restaurants, cafes, bars, theaters, galleries, etc. Chances are you will find that which you seek. I probably patrolled this thoroughfare no less than 1.32 million times. With Istanbul being the cosmopolitan East meets West nexus that it is anonymity is remarkably easy to attain. No simple task when you stand 6 feet 4 inches (193 cm).

Medical Tourism (Istanbul, Turkey)

March 2011 - After Victoria Falls it all started to wind down. We returned to Kasane in Botswana to purchase a return flight to Maun where we would once again hop into Sparky and make our way back to Johannesburg. We loitered a couple extra nights in Kasane so we could relax in the lap of luxury at an upmarket hotel for a spell. It was swell.

Once back in Johannesburg we procured lodging close to the airport for the sake of expediency. We spent a few days tying up some loose ends to include giving Sparky a bath and purchasing airfare. While waiting at the car wash for our car to be cleaned the owner struck up a conversation dripping with racism. The country is overrun with them. We used to play in the streets as kids until they took over. You can't trust any of them. In lieu of getting murdered she and her family are headed to Botswana. Alrighty. We just met this woman. I cannot quite explain why she felt so comfortable bearing her soul to complete strangers. This was not the first instance of such behavior. I guess people have no problem sharing as we are all clearly on the same 'team'.

We left most of our gear at the bed & breakfast in hopes that someone would find a use for our stuff (dinnerware, cooler, gas stove, etc.). Someone was either really excited or really irritated by the yard sale we left behind. We packed up Sparky for the last time and headed to the Avis airport office for what we thought might be a struggle of epic proportions. Over the course of two months we'd involved three separate Avis offices in our shenanigans and switched vehicles in the process. Too much paperwork. Too many employees involved. Too much confusion. And since we'd exceeded our allowable kilometers we were prepared to take it right in the stinker. Much to our surprise the return went smoothly and although we did have some overage payments in the end the representative with which we dealt was courteous, competent, and reasonable. She even waived a few of the charges in light of our constant struggle with Avis over the course of our journey. Ahhhh....refreshing.

Turkey Facts (U.S. Department of State)

PROFILE

Geography
Area: 780,580 sq. km.
Cities: Capital--Ankara (pop. 4.77 million). Other cities--Istanbul (13.256 million), Izmir (3.949 million), Bursa (2.605 million), Adana (2.085 million), Gaziantep (1.701 million).
Terrain: Narrow coastal plain surrounds Anatolia, an inland plateau becomes increasingly rugged as it progresses eastward. Turkey includes one of the more earthquake-prone areas of the world.
Climate: Moderate in coastal areas, harsher temperatures inland.

People
Nationality: Noun--Turk(s). Adjective--Turkish.
Population (December 2010 estimate): 73.7 million.
Annual population growth rate (2010 estimate): 1.312%.
Ethnic groups: Turkish, Kurdish, other.
Religions: Muslim 99% (majority Sunni), Christian, Bahai, and Jewish.
Languages: Turkish (official), Kurdish, Arabic, Armenian, Greek.
Education: Years compulsory--8. Attendance--97.6%. Literacy--87.4%.
Health: Infant mortality rate--23.94/1,000. Life expectancy--72.5 yrs.
Work force (27.43 million): By occupation--services 47.1%; agriculture 26.5%; 
industry 18.9%; and construction 7.5%.

Victoria Falls (Livingstone, Zambia)

May 17^th, 2011 (March 2011) – It would be reprehensible to spend all that time meandering through Southern Africa and not make an effort to see the largest waterfall in the world and one of the Seven Natural Wonders, Victoria Falls. One might even say criminal. So we made it a point to do so. It then boiled down to a matter of logistics.

Driving from Maun to Kasane (northern Botswana) would have tacked on a few hundred kilometers to Sparky. Not good since it was clear at that point that we were going to demolish the ceiling limit on our allowable kilometers for the month. Neither did we relish the thought of all that extra driving over less than stellar roadways. We decided to give Sparky a respite. It was time to take to the air.

The flights from Maun to Kasane are inexpensive (around $60 US one way) depending on the time of year. Just make sure to specify that you would like to pay less money as opposed to more. When we visited the Air Botswana office at the airport in Kasane to inquire about a return flight to Maun we were quoted a much higher fare than we had received on the flight in. After considering different departure dates the woman behind the desk finally asked us if we would like the ‘special rate’ (i.e. cheaper). No, no. We were hoping to pay the highest fare available…if you don’t mind. Are there any seats left at that the ignorant tourist rate? Good, good. We’ll take that. Would you mind expediting the procedure? We need to hurry back to our hotel so we can burn the rest of our savings. Alrighty then. Thank you so much. I think I’ll go outside and fuck myself now.

Yippee-ki-yay!!! (Okavango Delta, Botswana)

May 14^th, 2011 (February 2011) – We were not finished with Simba's crew. Although still sleepy from the previous evening we managed to drag our cabooses out of bed for the morning game drive the following day.  The guide drove us to the scene of the crime (i.e. the baby zebra slaying) to see if our new pals were still around.  Thankfully, they were indeed close by. Although nowhere near as thrilling as the night before the chance to see the family with the lights on was well worth our time. And it appeared that all had been forgiven as mother and child spent time kanoodling with dear old dad. Hopefully, he made it up to them but I wouldn’t bet the game farm on it.

There was a tense moment when I crouched as far down in the vehicle as I could in order to get a ground shot of an approaching kitty cat. For some reason my stealthy perch attracted her attention and for a couple of heart-pounding seconds she stared directly at me as she advanced ever closer. I nearly pooped a little. Note to self: Playing hide and seek with a mother lion is a terrible, terrible idea.

After saying farewell to the Furball Gang we spent the rest of the morning drifting around the Delta grasslands with no particular aim in mind. We felt we had been given an incredible gift the previous evening and merely sat back and basked in the warmth of the experience’s afterglow. We did pause for our tea interval and shared the morning with an elephant that had come to a nearby pool to have a drink. And then it was back to camp.

Nine Lions & A Snack (Okavango Delta, Botswana)

May 11^th, 2011 (February 2011) - Few experiences in my life have been more stirring than my night with nine members of Panthra leo. On our second evening in the Okavango Delta our gamble on a discounted off-season visit paid off…..big time! While we were enjoying sunset tea (How bourgeois!) a call came in over the radio: Lions had been spotted. My response was basically, ‘F the tea and crumpets! Let’s haul ass!’ And so we did.

Background: The sun had just set and prior to our arrival a pride of nine lions had recently ‘murdered’ a fledgling zebra (awwwwwww!).  Although bachelor males do indeed hunt once they become part of a pride with their own family it is more often than not the women that do the heavy lifting when it comes to food. This instance had been no exception. Evidently, the three lionesses of the clan were in the process of feeding themselves and their cubs when the lone male in the group asserted his patriarchal authority and purloined the recently departed.

This is when we arrived. Another vehicle, using its headlights as a spotlight, was focused on the ‘thief’ while the females and their brood (five in total) were about a hundred feet away looking on, totally dejected, as the husband/daddy selfishly enjoyed the fruits of their labor. Just like a man. Bastard. One lioness still had a bloody chin. We then pulled up in front of the male and watched the cruelty unfold.

Kwara Camp (Okavango Delta, Botswana)

May 9^th, 2011 (February 2011) – We rose early and made our way to the Namibia/Botswana border. The security situation at the borders is a bit lax, so much so that it is entirely possible we could have driven through both checkpoints undetected. This probably explained why an immigration official on the Botswana side was a bit ticked off when I drove past the office to park the car. Apparently, I could have just kept going with little threat of being stopped. Oops

While waiting for our paperwork an elderly gentleman returning to Botswana asked us for a ride. Actually, it was more like pantomiming as he spoke nary a word of English. We wanted to assist him but we did not think we had enough space in the Spark for another person, at least not without jettisoning some of our junk. He was having none of it. After we left the office he followed us to the car and awaited his chariot. I am sure he could have hitched with the next vehicle to cross but this man was impossible to deny. Age had chiseled this kind soul into a work of art and only the hardest of hearts would have been capable of saying no. 

Lucky for him I'm not  complete prick. So I managed to rearrange just enough space for Mr. Bots and his luggage.....barely. At that moment I felt a little ashamed to have ever said no in the first place. Not far into Botswana he gave us the signal and we pulled off the road to let him out. He was incredibly grateful. However, nothing in life is free. We forced him to pose for a picture.

Farting Rhino Grumpy Lion (Etosha National Park, Namibia)

May 7^th, 2011 (February 2011) – Etosha National Park is 20, 000 sqaure km of wildlife viewing bliss….at least during the dry season. At other times the critters like to hide in the grass and sightings can be few and far between. This probably explains why the campsite at Halali Rest Camp was fairly empty. We made it there in the morning, set up the tent, and began patrolling the park for fauna

Animals or not the park is captivating, even more so without the crowds. I have to admit that the first day we did not see an abundance of wildlife but our time was most certainly not spent in vain. Just being there, looking out across the great Etosha Pan, drifting along the grass-lined dirt roads, and attempting (once again) to avoid getting Sparky stuck in the mud was exhilarating. Spotting the occasional giraffe and rhino didn’t hurt either.

Back at camp that night we ate dinner and made our way to the floodlit waterhole nearby to sip wine and hopefully spot some local denizens. We sat there for the better part of an hour but no one came to drink. However, both Leslie and I thought we heard something from a dark corner just on the other side of the protective fence facing away from the flood light. Using the flash of my camera while standing on a rock ledge I spotted Hornee the Rhino snoozing in the grass…..and farting incessantly. We quietly alerted the other folks staring fruitlessly at the water hole and soon a small crowed was ogling Hornee with the help of camera flash. We returned early the next morning but Hornee had moved on. Probably couldn’t stand the smell. Dirty.

Make International Calls for Free Using your Smartphone

Image Courtesy of Flickr Making calls is normally a process that doesn't have a perceived cost associated with it. After all, you pay your bill every so often and you generally have unlimited minutes to talk to whomever, whenever you want to talk to them. However, there can be some complications associated with making calls. In this case, a complication and a cost are one and the same. But you don't have to blow a lot of money to talk to people. As a matter of fact, even international calling does not need to be an expensive proposition. You can actually make international calls for free, or nearly for free, using the power of prepaid smartphones. The process is a reasonably simple one, once you get past the weird phone numbers that many other countries use. Buying it Once Most people have a tendency to use their cell phones in the same way as the razor and blade business model, wherein they buy the phone or get it inexpensively and then continually pay every month for services. While these services may be very reasonably priced, in a lot of cases they are actually rather expensive for what you actually get. In the sense of saving a ton of money once you are in another country, already having your phone and however many minutes you've already bought essentially makes your calls free to make.

Uber Germany & A White Lady (Erongo Province, Namibia)

May 3^rd, 2011 (February 2011) – 'More German than Germany'. That is how el guidebook describes Swakopmund. So on the desert coast of a Southern African country you have a bizarre mixture of German-Namibians and German tourists. Right. Yes, that’s odd. And it is a little bit difficult to remember where you actually are in the world when making your way around the city. We spent two nights there revitalizing a bit, reaping the decadent comforts of sleeping in a bed. I also spent entirely too much time wrangling with Avis. They do try harder….to exasperate the snot out of you!

Why Germans? Well, In 1884 Namibia officially became a German colony as a counter to growing British hegemony in the region. The locals were thrilled, so thrilled in fact that two local tribes (the Herero and Namaqua) mounted a rebellion. Guess who came out on top? As a result half the population of the Namaqua and somewhere in the neighborhood of 80% of the population of the Herero were exterminated. And the band goes marching on…

Oh but don’t fret, after World War I the Germans lost Namibia…..to South Africa. For the next 75 years (give or take) Namibia was merely an extension of South Africa and was bequeathed all the benefits of apartheid. They did eventually gain their freedom on March 21, 1990 although in many ways Namibia is still highly dependent on South Africa economically. For example, the Namibia Dollar is pegged to the South African Rand.

Sossusvlei & Carmy the Chameleon (Namib Desert, Namibia)

May 1^st, 2011 (February 2011) – Sossusvlei. It looks and sounds like a nonsense word. The more I say it the more ridiculous it becomes. The ‘-vlei’ rhymes with ‘way’. Need remedial help? Go here. I did. It is a name worthy of Dr. Seuss himself and would blend marvelously in the pages of one of his books.  Roughly translated ‘Sossusvlei’ signifies something along the lines of ‘dead end marsh’. Rarely does the Tsauchab River accumulate sufficient capacity and thrust to inundate the area but it does occur. Thankfully, we were fortunate enough to be present at such a time.

Another early rise. Another cup of Nescafe Espresso. I can almost smell the instant coffee now. Unfortunately, the park staffers were late arrivals so we missed the sunrise but we still made it to the temporary lakes of Sossusvlei in time for the color spectacle.  I was hoping we would have the place to ourselves but, alas, those with their own 4wds beat us to the punch. Fiddlesticks. No matter, it was still a sight to behold and worth every moment spent absorbing it.

After negotiating the lagoons I made my way up the nearest dune. The most visually appealing route turned out to be the least expedient and sapped a fair amount of my strength. Dune slogging may be the perfect cardio workout although the apparatus may a bit difficult to come by. Once atop my sandy perch I soon forgot the effort it took to arrive there. What a view. My awe soon turned to laughter, however, when I noticed some unfortunates following my footsteps through the sand. They must have assumed I’d taken the easiest route. You know what happens when you assume. They never made it. Poor bastards.

I used my last opportunity to skip down the side of a dune wisely. With video camera in hand I bounced my way groundward with childish exuberance all the while singing my adaptation Tom Petty’s song, Running Down a Dream Dune. There are worse ways to spend a morning.

Dune 45 (Sossusvlei, Namib-Naukluft National Park, Namibia)

April 29^th, 2011 (February 2011) – Dune 45 is so named due to its location 45 kilometers from Sesriem along the road in Namib-Naukluft National Park. It is one of the most accessible dunes and sits very near to the road. We went for an exhausting jaunt a good way up the 150m of good ole Dune 45 in the evening on the day of our arrival in order to catch a glimpse of the sunset. The clouds foiled our sunset aspirations but the view was anything but disappointing. Besides, the sunrise on the following morning more than made up for it.

The Namib Desert is f***ing ridiculous. It just is. If the place does not impress you than I submit that you suck. It really is that simple. Judgmental? Sure, but say that after visiting. I will admit that if your experience is nothing more than a shuttle bus spectacular during the busy season than perhaps a jaded reaction might be understandable. Maybe. But then again you visited one of the most dazzling sights on the planet in a shuttle bus with folks possessing an excitement level on par with bubble gum flavored bubble gum. Sorry to inform you that you do, in fact, suck.  Don’t like my conclusion? Tough titty said the kitty to the big brown cow. I believe it impossible to over use that phrase, especially during a serious conversation.

We arose before the sun, brewed up some lifeblood (i.e. Nescafe Expresso), mounted Sparky, and jetted off to meet the day atop Dune 45. I think it imperative to enunciate ‘Dune 45’ in a similar manner to the way many folks effusively pronounce the malt liquor Colt 45. Dune forty-FIVE!!!!...AH!!! It just feels right. So we waited atop Dune 45 for Mr. Helios to grace us with his presence. We were not alone but the summit was anything but crowded. And in this instance it was nice to have some fellow travelers with which to savor the moment and give the scenery some perspective.

Mayhem & Sesriem (Namib-Naukluft National Park, Namibia)

April 27^th, 2011 (February 2011) – I suppose the most accurate way to describe Sesriem is with the word ‘settlement’ if by settlement I mean a petrol station and a few tourist lodges. It is a gateway to the Namib-Naukluft National Park, home to the world’s largest and most impressive sand dunes. Trust me when I tell you this is a place you want to visit.

Should you desire to stay inside the park you have two options, both operated by Namibian Wildlife Resorts (NWR). There is the Sesriem Camp Site or the ultra-swanky Sossus Dune Lodge. We went with door number one.  There are other options outside the park but only folks staying within the park’s boundaries can reach the dunes in time for sunrise. You want to reach the dunes in time for sunrise. The main gate (leading to the actual park gate) opens a bit later for the general public. Exclusivity is part of the appeal, especially in regards to the Sossus Dune Lodge. One must be careful. Exclusivity can sometimes lead to assholesivity.

After setting up camp we hopped in the Spark for a leisurely drive inside the park (rhyming was incidental). From Sesriem there is a 65 km road leading through a desert dreamscape consisting of salt/clay pan surrounded by large dunes. And at the end of the road lies Sossusvlei, the cherry on the proverbial surrealistic sundae.  Ever want to frolic in a painting?

Trial by Sparky (Luderitz to Tsauchab River Camp, Namibia)

April 25^th, 2011 (February 2011) – From Luderitz our goal was to reach the village of Sesriem, situated on the edge of the Namib Desert. Again, our ambitions were a bit grandiose. In a typical year the rainfall would be minimal/manageable for the time of year. This was not a typical year. As such roads that are normally suitable for a 2wd were sometimes questionable at best. For the most part they were actually pretty good but certain areas were washed out a smidge and covered in a layer of not so forgiving sand. Eventually, the sand got us. Damn the sand.

The road ahead had more of the same ‘edge of the earth’ feel we had encountered thus far and had a unique undercurrent of vitality punctuated by what we learned was an unusually verdant natural scene (courtesy of the rainfall). The only indications of human presence were the road itself and the seemingly endless fence line running along both sides of it. Driving along, one often feels like the whole of Namibia is fenced off for farming. These were the only reminders that we were not alone….probably.

We found ourselves mesmerized by the forlorn expansiveness of the region all the while crossing our fingers and hoping Sparky possessed the constitution to surmount any and all obstacles ahead. For the most part it performed admirably considering the terrain but even Superman has his kryptonite. There were areas that had obviously become temporary streams in the recent past and had deposited a not insignificant amount of sand in the road. One particularly large deposit proved too much for Sparky. We became entrenched….big time.

Diamonds, Jellyfish, & Nothingness (Luderitz, Namibia)

April 23^rd 2011 (February 2011) – Shall I beat that deceased horse? We drove from Keetmanshoop to Luderitz and saw a whole lot of nothing. Nothing was everywhere.  Nothing in the air. Nothing in the sand. Nothing on the horizon. There is a road and a yet-to-be-completed train track running through the nothing.  Don’t get me wrong. It is some of the most interesting nothing I have ever seen. In fact, as far as nothing goes it is really something.  We stopped along the way to absorb the nothing even pausing at a derelict building along the tracks to take photos of the nothing. Namibia: The Ultimate Nihilist Retreat.

I wonder if nihilists like wild horses. I think they might. Desert-dwelling equine aberrations. Nothingness connoisseurs. Imagine seeing horses, Namib Desert Horses in that environment. I have to imagine because we did not spot them. I think it is better that way. Knowing they exist is enough. Nobody knows where they came from exactly. I like that too.

Luderitz is a bit anomalous. Not only is it nestled in some of the most inhospitable terrain imaginable it sports German art nouveau architecture. Yes, that is bizarre, especially when juxtaposed between the Namib Desert and the Atlantic Coast. It will make you wonder where the f*** you are. We chose the Shark Island Campsite to settle for the evening although as it turns out the ‘island’ is really more of a peninsula since it was connected to the mainland. Setting up a tent can be a tricky endeavor seeing as the whole area is blasted by wind most of the time but in the end the effort pays off as the view and the vibe are excellent. However, I didn’t see any sharks. Such bullshit.

Fish River Canyon (Hobas to Keetmanshoop, Namibia)

April 21^st, 2011 (February 2011) – In the morning we dried our tent in the sun and went for a drive for a peek at the canyon. Our second day in Namibia almost resulted in catastrophe. Instead of heading to the main viewpoint we decided to follow a road along the canyon rim that looked particularly tantalizing. We did not realize how long the track was as the signs were a bit deceptive. First you see a sign that reads 8 km followed by another 12 km sign 8 km down the road. It’s like we were being lured into disaster.

On the way in neither of us happened to notice that one of these signs had the words ‘4x4-ish’ written upon it. 4x4-ish? The Spark does not qualify. In fact I would describe it as ‘4x2’-ish.  On the way down an incline I began to have a sinking feeling as the gradient, although moderate at best, combined with abundance of larger rocks began setting off alarm bells.  Danger Will Robinson!

Unfortunately, it was not possible to reverse course halfway down.  Once we reached the bottom I immediately turned around and began going back. The incline was exponentially more intimidating than the decline. It was uneven, filled with rocks, and I could feel the Spark trembling with fear (Actually, that was probably me).  I made repeated attempts to climb but was repelled by small boulders and a lack of sufficient momentum. Too slow and we began spinning in the rocks. Too fast and I risked bottoming out. I am pretty sure there was some fairly vital shit attached to the Spark’s undercarriage so prudence was paramount.

Into the Nothing (Hobas, Namibia)

April 19^th, 2011 (February 2011) – We settled in the Northern Cape village of Springbok for a couple of nights. Our goal was a camping frolic in Ai-Ais/Richtersveld Transfrontier Park described in the Lonely Planet as ‘a seemingly barren wilderness of lava rocks and sandy moonscapes studded with semiprecious stones.’ How alluring. The Spark was clearly not going to cut it so we looked into paying an agency to take us in or, alternatively, renting our own 4wd. It was not to be.

The agency’s driver was out of town and although the women offered us one of her 4wd rentals she actually discouraged us from going. Not only was it extremely hot for the time of year but she suspected the atypical volume of rainfall they had received likely made the road situation difficult. She suspected right. We called one of the park offices and were told that many of the roads were impassable with any vehicle and that the route into the park was very limited. Shiddle-shit!

So we stayed two nights in a local B&B that was not only extremely nice but also of superb value (the holy grail of accommodation at last!). The room was half the price of everything we’d seen up to that point and twice as big. We decided to enjoy two nights of R&R in preparation for our foray into Namibia. We're worth it.

The border crossing at Noordoewer was painless and the guards were rather friendly. There was an awkward moment during a routine bag search when one of the guards mistook tampons for cigars (who hasn’t?). He erroneously believed he was searching my bag as apparently men are not permitted to search the belongings of women. Good to know. Next time I want to smuggle drugs and firearms across the South Africa/Namibia border all I need is a female with a large rucksack. Always good to have a ‘Plan B’ employment option.

Namibia (U.S. Department of State)

Geography
Area: 823,145 sq. km. (320,827 sq. mi.); the size of Texas and Louisiana combined.
Cities: Capital--Windhoek (2009 census) pop. 342,000. Other cities--Grootfontein, Katima Mulilo, Keetmanshoop, Luderitz, Ondangwa, Oranjemund, Oshakati, Otjiwarongo, Rundu, Swakopmund, Tsumeb, Walvis Bay.
Terrain: Varies from coastal desert to semiarid mountains and plateau.
Climate: Semidesert and high plateau.

People
Nationality: Noun and adjective--Namibian(s).
Population (2010 est.): 2.3 million.
Average annual population growth rate (2010 est.): 1.8% (World Bank). The population growth rate is depressed by an HIV/AIDS prevalence rate estimated to be 13.3% among adults aged 15-49. (Source: UNAIDS Namibia 2010 Country Progress Report)
Ethnic groups: About 50% of the population belongs to the Ovambo ethnic group, and 9% to the Kavango ethnic group. Other ethnic groups include: Herero 7%, Damara 7%, Nama 5%, Caprivian 4%, San 3%, Baster 2%, and Tswana 0.5%. Germans and Afrikaaners together comprise 6% of the population.
Religions: Predominantly Christian (Lutheran); also other Christian denominations, Muslim, Jewish, Baha’i, and indigenous beliefs.
Languages: English (official); Oshivambo, Afrikaans, German, Herero, Nama/Damara, other indigenous languages.
Education: Years compulsory--to age 16. Primary school attendance
 (2005-2009)--89%.Adult literacy rate (2005-2008)--88%. (UNICEF)

Government
Type: Republic.
Independence: March 21, 1990.
Branches: Executive--president (elected for 5-year term), prime minister. Legislative--bicameral Parliament: National Assembly and National Council. Judicial--Supreme Court, the High Court, and lower courts.
Subdivisions: 13 administrative regions.
Registered political parties: South West Africa People's Organization (SWAPO), Democratic Turnhalle Alliance (DTA), United Democratic Front of Namibia (UDF), Congress of Democrats (COD), Republican Party (RP), National Unity Democratic Organization (NUDO), Monitor Action Group (MAG), Rally for Democracy and Progress (RDP), South West African National Union (SWANU), All People’s Party (APP), Democratic Party of Namibia (DPN), Namibia Democratic Movement for Change (NDMC).
Suffrage: Universal adult.

Hermanus & Cow Shit Campsite (South Africa)

April 17^th, 2011 (February 2011) – After Gansbaai we drove north to the seaside city of Hermanus. By the time our Shark adventure ended and we hit the road the day was half over. We knew we would begin heading for the exit as far as South Africa was concerned the following day (Namibia here we come) so we decided to relax a bit.

Hermanus is famous for whale watching and tourists invade the town every year to get their fix. Luckily, twas not the season so things were a bit quieter. We spent an evening at Zoete Inval Travellers Lodge run by a fairly quirky fella who is basically an unapologetic racist. He’d have to be to be so open with complete strangers about the decay of Hermanus after being overrun by ‘them’. According to Mr. Purebred ‘they think they own the place.’ Nice.

Now you might wonder why we would patronize such a establishment and not stomp off in protest. Well, let me tell you. It’s all part of the experience and in many ways reflects South Africa’s enormous cultural challenges.  And there is also the intrigue factor. When I meet people like this it is difficult to quell my morbid fascination with folks that don’t seem genuine, as if they are mere caricatures of real people. Are there really people out there that think like this? Yes, yes there are. At one point he was wearing a t-shirt that read, ‘Don’t kill me. I’m a tourist, not a Boer.’ And what of his frankness? Did he think that I would slap him on the back and reply, ‘I hear ya brother. Stop by the USA. Same shit different country. Who the hell do they think they are anyway?’?

Table Mountain & Jaws (Cape Town to Gansbaai, South Africa)

April 15^th, 2011 (February 2011) – I suppose you can’t go to Cape Town without heading up Table Mountain. And if you get up there early enough it can be borderline enchanting. Wait until later and you’ll be tripping over a sea of humanity. There are more than 300 climbing routes up the mountain along with cable car access. I do not regret taking the cable car as it is worth a ride but hindsight being what it is I wish I’d attempted the Indians Window Route up and used the car to descend.

It ain’t no joke and people die every year.  You don’t need special equipment but parts of the route are basically straight up the cliffs (climbers can be seen making their way up from the cable car). The weather can turn on a dime and I did read that it is possible to make wrong turns. Still I wish I’d at least tried. It is very likely I would have turned around but it kills me a bit that I did not make an attempt. I have no doubt the experience would be unforgettable. There is a much easier trail (Plattkilp George) but it does not look terribly interesting and has ant colony-like traffic going up.

The views from atop the mountain are undeniably stirring, especially when the scene is painted with clouds. It feels a little like the domain of the gods, at least until the mortals start shuffling off the cable car en masse. To the west I could just make out the infamous Robben Island, home of one of the world’s most famous prisons and Nelson Mandela’s ‘residence’ for over 20 years.

I briefly considered staying an extra day to give Indians Window a shot but decided it was probably better to move on. As it turns out the weather did not cooperate anyway so we continued on our journey. We now headed south toward the coastal city of Gansbaai. Along the way we took a wrong turn and drove through a township not far out of the Cape Town area. Not a particularly good idea as crime is reportedly rampant. While stopped at a T-junction a man driving a local bus gave us a helping hand and pointed us in the right direction. And he did it in that subtle ‘what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here-you-crazy-ignorant-bastards?’'voice. Oopsie.

Dinner with Nelson Mandela (South Africa)

“Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.”
 – Nelson Mandela

April 14th, 2011 - Not what you think. As much as I would love to be Mandela’s dinner guest I am pretty sure I am waaaaay down on his list of potential invitees, somewhere between Newt Gingrich and Rebecca Black (I bet he loves ‘Friday’ as much as I do).  I often wonder about having the chance to meet anyone in the world and with whom I would choose to spend my time. I believe Nelson Mandela would be my first choice (Muammar Gaddafi would be a distant second. I’d love to sit back and listen to him rant. WTF is with that dude?).  He is without a doubt one of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of researching. While we were in Cape Town Leslie and I stopped by the Slave Lodge Museum for some insight into the Mother City’s dubious past. 

It is a wealth of fascinating information about the colony’s function in the mechanism of slavery that saw folks brought from as far away as Indonesia.  But as intriguing as it was its draw paled in comparison to the Mandela exhibit housed inside.

‘Madiba’, as he is affectionately known, has many outstanding qualities, none more remarkable than his quasi-divine ability to forgive. He lost almost 27 years of his life, the best years of his life, to incarceration at the hands of a government few could contend was legitimate. Some might argue that his confinement was warranted considering his actions. The fact remains that he was the leader of Umkhonto we Sizwe (Spear of the Nation), the armed wing of the African National Congress (ANC) in the early 60s. He did support a sabotage campaign targeting military and government objectives and further recognized the potential need for guerrilla warfare should this plan fail to end apartheid. So what if he managed to carry out the mission of MK (short for Umkhonto we Sizwe) without causalities.  He was an enemy of the state.

And what a state it was. It became increasingly clear that pacifism and peaceful protest would not usher in the demise of apartheid, at least during that period. So, against every fiber of his being (he was a staunch supporter of Mahatma Gandhi), he agreed to a limited (i.e. no causalities) campaign of violence against symbols of apartheid. But he had no illusions. Violence is still violence regardless of causalities.

Good Hope For Cape Town (Cape Town, South Africa)

The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever. 
-- Jacques Yves Cousteau

April 11^th, 2011 (February 2011) – Although not planned we ended up making it all the way to the Mother City (Cape Town) on the morning we left Oudtshoorn. And since we did not plan on being there that day we had no plan for sleeping. So we did the most logical thing, drove around aimlessly for hours once we arrived.

After driving for some weeks outside of major metropolitan areas I was not quite prepared to face Cape Town traffic. This explains why I basically drove right through it until we hit the Atlantic and the coastal suburbs. We stopped by the sea to get our bearings and ate lunch in what felt like a mini-hurricane. It can get a little windy on the west side of Table Mountain. It was our first view of the so called ‘Table Cloth’, the signature cloud cover that often obscures the top of the mountain.

For the hell of it we decided to head south, down the coast, in hopes of finding a place to stay outside the hustle and bustle that is Cape Town, at least for a night or two.  The drive along the coast is stunning and well worth the time although had we known the most interesting part is actually a toll road we would have saved it for another day. We came up empty in our search for lodging so we made our way back to Cape Town. The hilly terrain, one way streets, fairly tumultuous traffic, and my lack of ability in the manual transmission realm made for a stressful afternoon. We did manage to find a place (overpriced as usual) but the parking situation in town is less than ideal. Not only that, we were told not to leave anything of value visible in our vehicle. Welcome to Cape Town.

A Place to Be 

by

Nathaniel Richards

Just beneath a calming sea

Churns a dark uncertainty

A war against life’s entropy

A soul without a place to be

‘To be or not to be’ you see

Propels our raw humanity

An existential shopping spree

To find that perfect place to be

 Universal Truth Decree:

I’m like you and you’re like me

Freedom springs from being free

We all just need a place to be

Sans fertile earth to plant thy tree

You have no possibility

A million doors without a key

All decked out no place to be

Take a breath, take a knee

Pray for cosmic potency

Can’t seem to solve that mystery

Of where and when I am to be

‘Wild' Encounter (Oudtshoorn, South Africa)

April 11^th, 2011 (January 2011) – After Storms River we made our way along the coast, hung a right at George and headed north to the city of Oudtshoorn, the ostrich capital of the world. This title is well-deserved as ostrich farms are everywhere.  As you might imagine it is possible to purchase just about any part of ostrich anatomy for consumption (ostrich meat is delicious) or otherwise (need a feather duster?). We found a rather pleasant caravan park in which to plop our tent operated by an exceedingly friendly older gentleman that was more than happy to tell us about the area. I find that friendly people in the hospitality industry (in any country) are becoming scarce. Oh, the irony.

The next morning was, in a word, ridiculous. I have no excuse. We showed up at the Cango Wildlife Ranch to experience the thrill of our very own ‘Wild Encounter.’ If you see me on the street please kick my ass. No signal. No warning. Just sneak up on me commando style and punish me. I deserve it. Can’t really blame Leslie on this one. My idea. My shame.

I’d read that you can spend time playing with cheetahs, tigers, lions, and even cage dive with crocs. I knew the potential for cheesiness was high but I could not resist the urge to touch these majestic furballs. Let’s be honest, they are f***ing cool! Me on the other hand….So when I read about Cango I thought it might be worth a shot. They created a Cheetah Preservation Foundation in 1988 and seemed to have their shit together. The big cats on hand have all been rescued and would not survive in the wild. However, the cheetahs kept in the preserve (away from the public) are often rehabilitated and released. Of course I knew the place was a glorified zoo but I still thought spending a few moments up close with animals that never cease to inspire would make everything tolerable. Wish in one hand. Shit in other.