The Jo'burg Round-a-bout

I had everything worked out in my head - no problem. I had the car, I would pick up Arianna at the airport, we would get to the hostel before dark and then promptly make plans for our immediate 'escape from Jo'burg' en route to Mozambique. However, the first glitch came when Arianna's parents arranged for her private transportation to a five-star accomodation in a ritzy burgh of Jo'burgh. Initially, I was a little perturbed, but staying in this lap of luxury called Parkwood has been a nice retreat. Two days in and I was on my 6th pot of french press. I guess I have never stayed in a 5-star get-up before and it is all a little bit overwhelming. This little oasis of fountains and verandas makes you feel like you are exactly anywhere but a place that has the preconceptions of what you expect from Jo'burg. Servers seem to materialize and dematerialize at your own unvocalized will. Oh, and free internet. That's a first. So thank you Hoffmanns!
Needing to add a little contrast to Parkwood, we jumped in the go cart yesterday on our own self-guided tour of Soweto, the colonial established 'dwellings' for black workers during apartheid. With atlas in-hand, Arianna navigated and I drove the maze of Soweto. First stop: Nelson Mandela's house. I am not sure how we decided to go here because it is not in the guidebook and it only recently opened up as a tourist site March 19 of this year (we think). Not surprisingly, it is a small 500 sq ft house of 4 rooms, no plumbing and no electricity. The confined settings do not offer too much for a tour but there are a few pieces of furniture remaining and walls decorated with key events in the Mandelas' struggle for South African liberation side by side with numerous awards and honorary degrees for he and Winnie's efforts. The tour itself was a bit shabby and you could tell they had not worked out the kinks yet, but it made for an interesting visit. Currently, Winnie lives in the house directly across the street and Nelson comes to visit the old house periodically. Apparently, he donated his favorite chair to the exhibit and he makes a point to sit in the old leather chair every time he comes back. As it is "Nelson's Chair", a kid on the tour was promptly scolded by the tour guide for sitting in it. It was also interesting to see the tree in the front yard under which all the placental cords of at least 3 previous generations of Winnie's mother's family had been buried. Apparently, this is a fairly widespread African tradition, but to what extent I'm not sure.
We spent the rest of the day trying to find our way around Soweto, getting lost and then finding our way out, only to get lost again. It didn't really matter, everyone was incredibly friendly as we drove and walked around the neighborhoods that ranged from near slum-like conditions to small suburbanized blocks with a few sprinkler-fed lawns here and there. What was most surprising about the area was the degree of activity. People were flooding the streets, listening to music, playing sports and generally socializing. It was just a Sunday, no parade, no celebration, just the activity of a very vibrant community. Some have suggested that despite Soweto's checkered past, ironically, it is becoming the cultural, artistic and maybe even economic leader that will revitalize Johannesburg in this post-apartheid era.Soweto also offered me another thrilling experience. It has been brought to my attention on more than one occasion that, while my China postings focused much on food, I have made no mention of local South African cuisine. This is simply because all the food I have encountered has been western. I bear some responsibility in not more actively seeking out the food. But in my defense, most of the places I have gone in S. Africa are based around some sort of site or attraction and thus everything is catered to westerners or other foreign cuisines. And, of course, all this is enhanced by colonialism. But in Soweto, we did find a restaurant (a pretty upscale one to boot) that served some local dishes. I ordered the baked wild chicken with creamed spinach, yams and a very dense bread. I guess it does not all sound too foreign on the surface, but the combination of (mild) spices and manor in which it was all cooked made for a delicious meal making me miss the daily experience of new mysterious food!
The Soweto experience was great, but we were ready to move out of Johannesburg and get off the beaten path. Monday morning we wrapped up Johannesburg with a walk downtown in the Newton district. The plan was to hit a museum or two, but unbeknownest to us, it was Freedom Day. While there were tons of people out and about, nothing was open. So we settled for some good people-watching over a beer or two. And by the way, my apologies, but I just did not take many pictures. Those that appear in this posting are all I have of Jo'burg.
The original plan was head to Mozambique via Kruger NP. But as Jo'burg was began with an immediate deviation from 'the plan', it is only fitting it would end in the same manner. It has become apparent to me over the last few weeks that transit difficulties in Mozambique will likely sap much of the time for Malawi and Tanzania. So we canned Mozambique and bought a flight Monday morning to Lusaka, Zambia. Ten hours later, we were in Lusaka. I think we found what we are looking for, but more on that later.

High on the Drake

Initially, I was a little unsure how to spend the last few days before I meet up with my new traveling companion, Arianna (a long time friend of mine since college) in Jo'burg. So rather than trying to rush it, I decided to take it slow in the Drakensburgs. This mountain range runs along the border of South Africa and Lesotho. It consists of a sedimentary base punctuated by large basalt escarpments creating a staggeringly beautiful and ominous-looking landscape. It was named 'Drakensburgs' by the Dutch meaning 'dragons', and it's a fairly fitting name. Due to the sedimentary layer, it sort of resembles the Grand Canyon with it's water formed gorges, except that the gorges are all green and mountains soar from out of the plateaus upwards to elevations of 11,000 ft.I spent two nights in Himeville, in the southern Drakes. I 'splurged' ($16) on a room at the Himeville Arms with it's own Pub, great food and some damn good cappaccino. I spent most of a day hiking in Cobham Reserve laying down about 16 miles. Cobham is supposedly totally virgin and appears as 'it has always been.' Regardless of the semantic meaning of 'always', it was a fantastic place to hike where I didn't see a single soul all day. Of course, truth be told, I would not have minded seeing someone along the way as I got lost as hell. With a nearby baboon troop screeching at me and a waning sun, I decided to high-tail it and run the last 1.5 hours out. Just as I could barely see anymore, I finally found my car. whew. It was all well rewarded though, as the Pub at Himeville Arms had a porter on tap from a Nottingham Brewery about 100 km away. It was not only the best beer I have had since February, it was one of the best porters I have ever had - And I'm not a huge porter guy. Good day.
Wanting to sample the Drake a bit more, I moved up to the central berg region and settled in for another two days. No pub, but a fantastic lodge nonetheless at the base of Monk's Cowl Reserve. Here, the scenary only got more stunning. Looking back over my last several South African posts I realize I have described many of the areas as 'beautiful', 'amazing', etc. So to niether detract from the gravity of those fantastic places I have previously described, nor sound redundant about the central berg, I will just simply decribe this area as 'undescribably beautiful.' Friday, I hiked up to the top of Sterkhorn Mountain (2970 m) offering incredible views of the plateaus, gorges and valley floors. Making it back by mid-afternoon I finished the day off with a swim in the pool/pond at the lodge.
I really wanted to take a swing through Lesotho before heading to Jo'burg. But in hindsight, the Drakensburgs were a real treat with great accomodations and good hiking. So, I will save Lesotho for another trip, another day. Tomorrow, I will head to Jo'burg and finish off the solo-segment of this trip. From there, Arianna and I will try to figure out how in the hell we are going to get to Tanzania. Right now, I only have a few vague ideas, but no plan. I'm not sure if I told her that part.

SA at 42 mpg

Significantly more mobile now, I got in a hike along the Tsitsikamma NP coastline with it's cliffs and slopes plunging into the ocean. Along the way to Addo a couple hours away, I stopped by Jeffrey's Bay, a surfer's mecca and the site of the annual Billabong Surfing Competition. The ocean was a little tame, but I got to see a few surfers ride the infamous "Supertubes" while eating my fish and chips. It was cool, but the car is a double edged sword. I am seeing a lot more places now, a lot faster, but I have to make sure I don't start to get too concerned about trying to 'see as much as possible.' I can feel the hastiness encroaching.

I found an amazing B&B/campground buried in a little oasis at Addo. Without any camping gear (I wish I hadn't sent it all home!) I strung my hammock next to the car. The owner of Homestead B&B, Thurston, explained the rich 90 year history of the B&B which originally started off as a lodge for settlers. We chatted for quite awhile about the USA, as his son now works in North Dakota, and the upcoming SA elections this week. Similar to at least 4 other (white) local business owners I have talked to along the way, he expressed much concern about the potential of Zulu-run ANC party likely taking control. There are many potential affirmative action plans in the pipes, to add to those passed since apartheid, that have caused many white people to leave SA, along with their money. There is some concern more such actions will promote a 'white flight.' A few of the people I talked to, hypothesized a future of SA similar to the downward spiral of places like Zimbabwe. I am generally ignorant of the culture and politics of this country, but in my eyes, one of the stark contrasts of this country relative to China (besides the obvious) is the direction of growth. Everywhere I went in China, I felt a sense of frenzied growth. Here, the predominant feeling I am left with is one of stagnation, if not decline. There is little sense of development or direction. I don't know, maybe this is just a righting period for SA and maybe the ANC will take the country in new, exciting places. Nonetheless, considering SA is the most developed nation of Africa and that it contains 15% of the continents GDP, I imagine these elections will be an important crux point not just for South Africa, but sub-saharan Africa as a whole. The next morning I got up early (I was cold anyway) to hit Addo Elephant NP. In my little go-cart i drove the somewhat rough dirt roads of the park for four hours. You are not allowed to get out of your car, and after having a lion circle my car, I was totally down with that. Within the few hours I was there I saw over 70 elephants, 2 lions and 15 zebras along with slews of warthogs, kukus, markeets and birds. This park pails in comparison to the size of the many other parks in Africa, but it was pretty cool for me to see these animals in the wild for the first time. As an added bonus, it only cost $11.
From Addo, I took several back-country secondary roads to Hogsback. The main roads are pretty good, but the secondary roads (which are main connections) are often dirt and gravel and in the go-cart I feel like I am in some Euro rally race. I pulled into Hogsback perched up on the mountains at 1300 m. It's a bit of a hippies' retreat but the vistas are stunning, particularly the the adjacent mountain which resembles the pointed, hair-raised back of a warthog. I planned to knock out some good hikes the next morning, but the rain was brutal and showed no signs of letting up so I headed the go-cart for Coffee Bay.

Moving along the coast NE from Cape Town, you drive through all these large swathes of area with intriguing names, such as the Garden Route, Shipwreck Coast and The Karoo. And intriguing they are, with each new region looking entirely different than the former. I have been following the windy N2 which offers spectacular views along a 2-lane highway where the average traffic speed averages 70-100 mph. Moving down to Coffee Bay brought me into the heart of the Wild Coast. Rightfully named, the 1.5 hour punishing drive down the potholed rode offered spectacular views of large rolling hills dotted with the small green and pink round houses of the Xhosa people. Besides being incredibly friendly, they are also incredibly laid back. So much so that the drive required diligent focus to dodge (in this order of frequency) people, potholes, cows, goats and horses. White-knuckled, I finally arrived at the little super-hippie backpackers (a common theme for South African hostels) nestled in tiny Coffee Bay. The hike the next morning along the coast gave a panorama of golf-course like green slopes rolling down to the rocky shores - very dramatic.

From here I commenced the long drive up to the southern Drakensburgs. However, the drive goes by quite quick because it is all so remarkabley scenic with NO haze whatsoever! The views are punctuated by small towns in which all of sudden you are breaking from 85 mph to 10 mph as you enter streets flooded with people. Being election week, I roll down the windows and stop a bit to watch/listen to the parades and singing supporters for various parties - You thought the US 2008 elections were boisterous! Unfortunately, my camera batteries were dead and I couldn't get any pics/video. I have also been able to liven-up the drives by picking up hitchhikers. However, I do not think it is fair to give them that label, as it seems half the country (all black) rely on free rides not as transients, but just people going about their daily routines. Exiting every town there are typically dozens of people trying to hail rides to the next town to get supplies or what not. I only stop to pick up the ones that are by themselves or have just one child. Iniitally, I was a little concerned what I was getting into, but everyone has been incredibly friendly, and those that speak english, very interesting.

Now I am in Himeville, just south of Lesotho. My plan was to work through Lesotho, but the road over the mountain pass is accessible only with serious 4WD right now - the go-cart doesnt stand a chance! Rather, I am going to stay here a little while and see what I can find. I overloaded this post with pics because right now this computer is having issues with my flash drive. It might be a few days before I get the pics up from the last several days.

My Little African Go-cart

I procured a ride to Ashton from the owner of the De Bos campsite in Montagu in order to catch my first bus in Africa en route to Plettenberg Bay. No complaints about the bus itself. I like public transportation - it's generally easy. However, after thumbing through the guidebook and asking others along the way, it has become quite apparent that the public transportation system is just not going to work this time. Many locations are not served and those that are only have infrequent, often booked buses passing through. So, car rental it is.

Before picking up the car, I spent a little time in 'Plett' exploring Robberg Nature and Marine Reserve which covers a peninsula jutting out into the ocean. Here, the first white European inhabitants lived for about a year while building a new ship to replace their wrecked heap off the rocky coast. Within less than 1 km of here, there is an excavated cave with a well-documentedarchaeologicall site dating inhabitants back to 120,000 years. The hike looping the peninsula covers large seal habitations, jagged slopes, and shifting sand dunes. While looking around, head up, eyes open, I almost stepped on a 4-ft long, pissed-off Puff Adar. I found out later that fortunately it's venom is typically not fatal.

After making a nice half day trip out of the Reserve I then sat my butt down at the Reserve entrance and waited for a cab. The cost of the cab rides to the Reserve and the amount of money the guy with a cell phone demanded for me to pay so that I may call a cab totaled more than half the rental cost of the car, reassuring me that I had made the right decision to get the car. Picking up the little no-frills, VW hatchback made for a sight. Not sure about the rules of the road, I asked the car rental guy for a quick rundown. He just said, “You will figure it out. Just don't speed.” Besides my slight disorientation because most everything is backwards in the car, the steep ascent out of the parking lot immediately made me stall-out. But after the initial learning curve, I was good to go. An American in Cape Town told me the secret to learning to drive on the other side of the road is to remember that you, the driver, is still toward the middle of the road. So far, this has worked pretty well. The car: it's got some pep for a rental and I like my little go-kart.

With wheels to the road and groceries in the trunk, I headed to Bloukrans River Bridge in the Tsitsikamma NP for a little adrenalin rush. I settled in to a really nice, fully equipped hostel-like place right next to the bridge. It was a shame that for such a nice place, the only company I had on the plateau edge was the baboons that came out at night. Bloukrans is home to the world's highest commercial bungee jump at 216 meters. With no coffee, I thought the ~175 m fall the next morning would serve as a good wake up. I was the first jumper in the morning to make the plunge. The company running the show is generally well organized. But, while getting strapped up to the bungee, the staff cranked up the hiphop. Although it is fairly straightforward, I could barely hear anything they were saying to me amidst the not-so-reassuring, blaring music. I grabbed one of the staff members before I jumped and said “You tied this tight? right?” He said, “yay man, don't worry, just fly.” Great... The swan dive off the bridge was incredibly exhilaratingg and gave me a whole different sensation than skydiving. I thought the 'jerk' of the bungee would hurt, but the whole thing was smooth as can be. By the time I came to rest, I was ready to be hoisted up with the blood pooling in my head. I would definitely do it again.

Climbing the Sixth Kingdom

After a couple hours drive outside Cape Town, Anthony and I arrived in Montagu. It's a small quaint town with an odd mix of beautiful B&B's for upscale, touring tourists and farms converted to campgrounds for the outdoors persons, all set in a valley buffeted by craggy mountains. Here there is hiking and mountain biking galour to be found. But the real reason we were here: this is a sport climber's mecca.
I stayed in a small open-air barn converted to a dorm while most were camping in tents. The first night, Anthony and I had dinner at a friends house. It quickly dawned on me that this group of South Africans and Europeans (mostly German and French) were serious hard-core climbers. They talked extensively about climbing, dropping names and terms I had bever heard of, giving me an eye into the climber's culture. Most of them had been climbing for years, if not decades. A quick flip through the climbing guide book for this region and you realize that half the people pictured on the rock faces are the very same people you are eating with. Needless to say, it was a great leg-up experience for me in a sport I have become increasingly interested in over the last year.
Over the next couple days, I followed them out to their 'projects'. These are specific climbs they had been eyeing, studying the sequences and crux moves so as to finally redpoint them - complete start to finish without falling. I tried my hand at a 5.13d Norene has been working on - I barely made it to the second bolt before falling, while Norene was at the crux about 15 bolts up! Later on, I went with Dou, Vanessa, Natasha, Simon and Ben to the Waterworld crag. They did several 20 meter warmups which were all 5.10 to 5.11 climbs. I managed to complete a 5.10b and a 5.10d - my highest level yet! (Although, I cheated a little on the 5.10d having to pull up on one of the bolts.) Of course they all then moved on the serious 5.13+ routes. I just watched!
It was a fantastic weekend of climbing, grilling on the fire (called 'braai' here), hiking and camping. Monday evening they all left to return to the jobs that support their habit. By Tuesday, the campsite was nearly desolate and I spent the day laying down some good hikes into the mountains. The Cape region of South Africa is truly unique in terms of the plant and animal environment. As Anthony informed me, of the world's 6 kingdoms, the Cape region is a kingdom all its own defined by the unique composition of flora and fauna. I do not know enough to competently describe it in proper detail but it does ring some bells from 7th grade science class. I presume it this type of biological diversity and geologic nature that makes hiking through here quite different from anywhere else I have hiked. Towards the mountain tops it all seems incredibly arid and dry lending to the incredibly waxy and oily plants that give off an array of aromas. Every 10 meters or so I would detect a new smell - similar to those of lavendar, sage, eucolyptus, etc. It was like walking through a giant herb garden. Then as you drop down from the slopes just a few 100 meters you are plunged into a narrow strip of thick vegetation in the gorges that are more tropical in nature. All a very stark contrast in such small area.
Montagu itself is quite small and can be explored in a few hours. It is a very layed-back slow town. Sometimes things are open, sometime not. There seems to be no rhyme or reason. It is also the place where I am beginning to learn some hard lessons about traveling in Africa. Being this is one of the most developed regions (South Africa) of Africa the transportation sucks - big time. I am now a little stuck here. As much as I like this place I was ready to go yesterday as the clock is ticking. The first bus out of here doesnt pass until Thursday morning. Currently, I am reassessing all my plans for traveling Africa as getting around on my own and not on some giant touristed overlander truck is looking to be quite challenging. Transportation here is night and day different from China! Another difference and challenge has been internet access! It is difficult to find and when I do find it there is an inverse relationship between bandwidth and price per minute. (i.e., the more expensive it is, the slower it is.) So heads up: My posts will be less frequent and those I do get out will be longer in nature!

And on that note, this post is already too long. Next stop, Plettenberg Bay.

Not in China Anymore

During my 24.5 hr transit from Beijing I felt this ominous unknown waiting for me in South Africa. An unknown that I had reckoned only to be of something bad in nature. Following numerous warnings from others and the guide book concerning crime, I had my defenses on high alert by the time I landed in Cape Town. Now, I just feel silly.

It of course would be foolhardy to think that you can walk anywhere, anytime with a giant yellow flag that says, 'rob me.' However, all in all my preconceived notions of security in South Africa, atleast around the Cape area, were completely wrong. I have had a blast since I have been here, well signified by this belated post.
If you are young, beautiful and affluent this is the place to be. Alternatively, Cape Town could equally serve as the perfect respite for retirees, sports enthusiasts or even dredlocked, Che-supporting anarchists. From the confluence of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans the beaches run right up to the base of the craggy mountain tops all within a few kiometers. There is parasailing, skydiving, surfing, climbing, sandboarding, hiking, abseiling, kaloofing (sp?), kayaking and fishing. It's Fall now and maybe I have just been lucky, but the weather has been spectacular every day making for fantastic views and fresh air.
Arriving last Tuesday evening, I decided to kick off my Africa leg by jumping into a shark cage for some face to face visits with some Great Whites. It was not exactly a National Geographic experience, but intense regardless. One guy chums, another 'fishes' with a giant chunk of tuna on a float, another toys with a seal dummy and the captain yells at you to get in your wet suit and get in the cage. Once a shark is spotted, you plunge down into the cage as it eagerly goes after the bait. I saw three different Great Whites, the largest of which was about 14-15 ft long. As I was underwater, a shark would appear out of nowhere, knock the cage around a bit and I quickly develop an appreciation for iron bars that I never thought I could have. The prime spot for this viewing is in 'Shark Alley', a narrow strip of water running between two islands, one inhabitated primarily by birds and the other by seals - It's a feeding frenzy. It can be rached by a 45 minute boat ride outside Gansbaai. The ride itself is nice, crashing through choppy seas while watching the waves roll in along the lighthoused coast.Back in Cape Town the next day (Thursday), I had to make a visit to the US Consulate down the pennisula - my passport needed a little TLC. I got a taste of South African public transport (slow, infrequent, and generally shabby) which I should of interpreted as a little foreshadowing - more on this later. Fortunately, a nice American guy taking care of the same passport issues as I offered my a ride back to Cape Town. This not only saved me time but allowed me enough daylight to squeeze in a hike up the Indian Vestor (vestor = window in Afrikaans) trail on Table mountain. Table Mountain towers over Cape Town offering stunning views of the surrounding environs from mountians to coast. The trail is quiet trecherous and takes several lives a year forcing me to employ a few rock climbing crimps here and there on the way up. I made it to the top before sunset to take in the incredible vistas and in time enough to meet some rock climbers topping out. One of them, Anthony, was a guide who, for a really good price, offered me a full day of climbing on Table mountain Saturday - I couldn't resist.
I spent Friday, exploring the ritzy Gardens district of Cape Town, then spent about 8 hours hiking along the Table mountain range and finished the day off on the beach for a sunset. As for my accomadations in Cape Town, I stayed in one of the many backpacker hostels along Long street. It's basically, backpacker's part alley and attracts all the beggars and soliciters of everything under the sun. Hence, it is no surprise it is the place I felt least safe. Other than the occassional shove of the persistant dope dealer, I never had any issues though. Long street is not quite my scene but I did meet several nice people who I shared beers with and what not. Patrick for instance, an Irish guy who currently holds the record for the longest continuous traveler I have ever met - going on 2 years this May. He is an Irish guy about my age who gave up his Risk Management job, sold the Porsche and since has visited nearly everywhere under the sun - including Antartica.Come Saturday I was primed for climbing. Anthony and I got up to the first pitch by 9 am. Unbeknownest to me, he was feeling me out on a 20 meter 5.7 to gauge my ability. Apparently, many clients talk up their skill level and it creates for a bad day of climbing. Having passed the test, I then climbed a 5.6 and worked on two traverses. This climbing was a whole new experience for me as it was all in the Traditional style requiring the use of various nuts, hexes and cams, as opposed to sport climbing which relies on prelaid bolts. I was very excited to learn about the equipment use, because up until now this method of rock climbing has been quite foreign to me. After a light lunch, I was able to approach a significantly more challenging climb - 'Jacob's Ladder', an 80 meter 5.9 climb. We did it in 2 pitches, using 2 half ropes with Anthony leading and me belaying and then cleaning the equipment as I climbed. It was all incredibly thrilling and gave me a whole new respect four traditional style climbing in which you really have to know your eqiupment!
On the hike down I was mulling over in my head various options to fill my next few days in Cape Town. It had become apparent to me that I would be stuck in Cape Town for awhile as all of Southern Africa pretty much shuts down around the long Easter holiday. While I was enjoying Cape Town, I wanted to get moving as my time here was limited. Feeling a little perturbed by this conundrum, Anthony offered me a ride to Montagu to spend the weekend with his climbing friends for a holiday climbing excurison. I asked when he was leaving and he said "Now." I said "O.K." Next stop, Montagu.

End of the Line Confessions

I leave for Cape Town late Monday night and after what I thought was a pretty good pace through China, Beijing became more of my wind-down-town. There is tons to see and do in Beijing and millions of eager sightseers to do it all with. Beijing is a big sprawling, clean and beautiful city. And, a little ashamedly, I didn't do much at all.
The few spots I hit: The Bird's Nest, The Cube, Tian'anmen Square and The Forbidden City. It was all good and worth my time. Now, for the near entirety of this trip I had very few 'must-dos'. Those included catching my flights, eating and going to the Great Wall (the intact part). Well, I guess it's good I did the first two things, but I failed to make it to the Wall. When in Beijing, one of the easiest things to do is go to the Great Wall. There are numerous sections to visits via numerous channels. I have done a good job in China making things workout with few resources and failed at the easiest. I put off going to the Wall until my last day, Monday. After sleeping in Monday morning I had to pack and send a large box of crap back home. Long story short, by the time I got to the local bus I found out the routes had changed. I did not have enough time to go to another section of the Wall and get back in time. Looks like I have to come back to Beijing another day.Despite this failing, I quite enjoyed Beijing. I did a fair amount of walking and eating. Met some really great people in the hostel all of whom, like me, were using Beijing as either a starting point or a jumping-off point. We went to a few bars and scoped out some good eats. Five of us split a fantastic family-style dinner before I caught my flight out which made for a nice send off. Sunday, I made it out to the Beijing Flying Tiger hash. Similar to my home hash group, these people did it right. A mere $9 covered the cost of a tour bus to shuttle us out to the suburban 'boonies', an 8 k run, two BB's and a bar-b-que. They were a really friendly group composed mostly of expats and they had loads of good, cheap t-shirts and patches for sale. I even met an 03' Carolina grad with whom I could high-five after the semi-final win just a few hours prior! GO HEELS!

My only regret about this China leg of the trip is that I did not schedule another 6 weeks!

One other thing: I would like to thank all those who have dropped comments or sent emails concerning this blog. Not only is it nice to know it is being read, but more importantly it is nice to know that that some of you have enjoyed reading it. For me, as I am not a big fan of writing in general, updating this blog has been surprisingly rewarding and therapeutic. What goes in my journal does not really concern anything I actually do, so updating the blog has been a good way for me to catalog those events. And finally, knowing even just a few people are reading it serves as a nice connection to 'home'. So, thanks to you all!

My next post will be from Cape Town.

Turning the Blind Corner

For me, figuring out the last few days of a long trip has always been a little hard. I want to keep my typical as-the-wind-blows routine and subsequent casual pace. There is, however, the looming realization of how much I did not get to see and the tempting prospect of trying to cram some extras in despite the intended pace. In the end, I stayed true to form, crossed off several things on the list (such as Dalian - sorry Yuee) and stopped off in Datong for two days. Just south of Inner Mongolia province, I had two ambitions: The Hanging Monastery and my own quest for a dilapidated section of the Great Wall.
Before viewing, I gave the Hanging Monastery a handicap as I have previously seen glimpses of it on a documentary. After an early morning local bus and taxi trip it just suddenly appears out of nowhere clinging to a cliff about 300 m from the base of a dam. Looking more like a 'perched' monastery and less like a 'hanging' one, I and the handful of people clambered through the precariously built structure. It is rather small and you get the feeling that it was not assembled as one unit but rather thrown together in various dysfunctional sections. Further, it in no way seems structurally sound and I was surprised, even for China, that they let a limitless amount of people scramble around on it. After 25 minutes of exploring and a slew of picture-snapping I lit out in time to pass the arriving tour buses.Not in a hurry to get back to Datong and itching for a hike, I blew off the taxi driver and hiked out of the gorge along the river. Exiting the gorge, a small red flag caught my eye up on the cliff bluff. After a little more eyeing, I spotted what looked like another small monastery. Low and behold I found a trail. With no information, no signs and no people I hiked up to the monastery. From all I can gather, this is the replacement 'hanging monastery' for the one the monks sold-off/gave to the government - I'm not sure. Not as structurally questionable, it still made for a little bit of a surreal experiance. From here I hiked for another 4 hours along narrow, overgrown single tracks along cliff walls along sheer drop offs - very thrilling. I found my way to the top of the mountains and got in a little ridge hiking which offered spectacular 360 degree views of the surrounding valley, towering mountains and terraced mountain sides. The visibility was easily 25-30 miles and the weather spectacular.
Feeling primed for some more exploring, the next dayI headed north to the tiny village of Deshang Bao. Supposedly, here there are crumbling, earthen remains of the Great Wall. The village itself was partially surrounded by its own decrepit earthen wall. I asked a few people where The Great Wall was by pointing to the chinese symbols on a piece of paper and they just motioned off toward the desolate hills. After 2 hours I found it, or rather parts of it. Mostly all that remained was the old parapets every 300 m or so connected by a low ridge of dirt. I could see the parapets stretching off for a couple miles in each direction. I nosed around a few of them but there was not too much to see other than a few curious cow herders. I would love to have posted some pictures of it, as it was a beautiful day, but my camera went for a dunk while I was wading through a river. Like my camera, my return home was also a bit challenged. Apparently, just because a bus will drop you off in a place it does not mean it will pick you up. This goes to explain the concerned looks I got when I originally got off the bus in Deshang Bao. So I started to walk. After an hour and a half of thumbing attempts, the third bus to pass me finally stopped. I had to sit on the floor of the packed bus, but it was so much better than walking in the dark. Oh, and after drying out over night my camera came back to life!
All in all, Datong was a good stop. It offered some off the beaten path adventure that I was not anticipating. I took an overnight train out of town and settled into Beijing before dawn on Friday.

Oh yeah, one more thing:

Can you say 'Heels'?

TAR!!!!

The 'Classics' Blitz

This post is a little post-dated if you will. A few posts ago I made the effort to explain I was getting burned out with tourist sights - the noise, the high prices, the stampeding herds of tourists with matching hats, etc. However, I guess my complaining might seem a little curious as I never even wrote about half of those interesting, yet exhausting, sights! So here it is...

From Nanjing, I stopped off in Luoyang to visit the Shaolin Temple (for all you under 30ers out there, think Wu Tang Clan) and Longmen Caves on separate day trips. Shaoling Temple is an active training sight of Shaolin boxing with 6000 students at any given time. You can see the kids and teenagers out in the fields and around the dorms training. I snapped a few pics before my batteries died. (A serious problem with my camera. I have now gone through nearly 20 sets of batteries in the last 6 weeks.) Most of what you get to see is a smattering of Taoist style temples through the mountain and valley region of Shaolin. A little different than the standard Taoist stuff as it has a martial arts spin to it. There was also the pagoda forest with 240 some small pagodas (buddhist towers usually constructed of hexagonal or octagonal levels) that was a little neat to wander through. Honestly though, I felt it was a bit over-hyped and over-priced.
Longmen Caves, on the otherhand, was well worth the stop. My expectations were somewhat low as I have seen countless Buddhist statuaries and architectural features on this trip and on a previous trip to SE Asia. However, I found a refreshing flare to the statuaries here for two reasons. First, the sculptures themselves showed quite a sense of character. They were animated and emotional with figures I have not normally seen accompany sitting or sleeping buddhas. There seemed to be some heavy influence from Taoist and Hindu deities and personalities. Secondly, I was most taken a back by the sheer scale of the caves. From about 500 to 700 AD they carved nearly 100,000 statues in caves of all sizes dotting a cliff face stretching nearly 3/4 of a mile. Even from across the river bank and up the opposing hillside I could not get it all in a single camera frame. I happily toured the sights for a couple hours. No amount of marauding tourist groups could dampen the experience.
I used Luoyang as a base camp and outside a little wandering of the streets did not get to see too much. But one particular highlight sticks out in my mind: I found a place selling a plate of 3 dozen steamed pork dumplings for about 85 cents. Maybe I already mentioned that in another post. I don't care - they were awesome! On to Xi'an.

Xi'an is home of one of the most famous Chinese historical sites next to the Great Wall: the Terracotta Warriors. For several weeks I had been asking travelers I crossed paths with if making the trip out to Xi'an was worth it just for the Warriors. The responses were split right down the middle of extremes - Everyone either loved it or hated it. So to break the tie, I went there myself. I got out early to the Warriors in hopes to beat the crowd. I was initially successful, but my malfunctioning audio guide required some TLC from the staff giving time for the crowds to catch me. No worries though, the site more than made up for it. Currently, it is still an active archealogical site with several statues left to be uncovered. The purpose and history of the statues is fairly straighforward. They were built by slave labor over decades to protect the egominical emporer in the after life and then they were later desicrated by another egominical leader. However, the archealogical and artistic appeal overshadow the narcisim. Each Warrior is entirely unique in appearance. Not just the faces but the body, - some were skinny, some had a little bit of a gut, etc. The were archers, soilders, charioteers with horses and several ranking officers as well as different squadrons with differing roles. The Warriors were lined up in two rows and covered by a wooden beam structure which was then covered in straw mats and buried. So of course the wood rotted and collapsed in on the Warriors, but that was only after some nut job emporer destroyed much of them. What remains now is three sites, largely unexcavacted and hundreds of reconstructed soldiers. It is all generally impressive and makes you wonder what it takes to drive an individual to undertake such a construction project only to bury it all.

There are many other historical and religious sites to visit surrounding Xi'an, but I was satisfied. Xi'an itself is a pretty nice city too. I was told by a few travelers that it is very dirty and just an all around terrible city. Apparently, there is another Xi'an I am not aware of or these people have not visited many Chinese cities. The city is nice to walk around in and very lively. There is also a large city wall here built in the late 1300s that surrounded the original city during the Ming dynasty. The city now has sprawled out way past those early boundaries but there is plenty to keep one busy for days within the walls. The walls are also completely intact and I biked all 14 km of it. I also visited my first Chinese mosque here. THE minerat was disguised as a pagoda - ha! On the downside, Xi'an has the highest concentration of noticeable tourists next to Shanghai (in my opinion). As I wrote about previously, after my failed attempt to reach Mt Taibai I had to part ways with Xi'an.

Ok, I'm starting to get caught up. I leave for Beijing in a few hours and hope to get the rest posted soon.