The beginning of the next adventure...

So... the latest, where do I start...

It felt like it took forever to come, but the time has finally arrived for us to set off on the new adventure, our much anticipated relocation to Ifrane, a small town in the Middle Atlas Mountains of Morocco. No trip has been more into uncharted territory for us. In Bangkok we knew there would be other foreigners, in Honduras there were friends already there, Australia was western, and even Africa had more info available on the internet. Regardless of how many hours we scoured the internet there was limited info to be found.

Our departure from the UK, was easier than we thought. In fact the most challenging thing about getting ourselves from Nick's house in Manchester to our new home in Ifrane, was actually our brief stop in Reading, where we got hopelessly lost while visiting Lis. Checking our four bulging bags in with Ryanair was a bit of a worry, we were asked to shift stuff around a bit and I ended up with two pairs of trousers rolled up and stuffed down the sleeves of my jacket. Combined with the fact that I already had my heaviest hoody as a liner to the jacket, and three books in the pockets, meant that I was left with a cumbersome 7kg on one arm and a stuffed 10kg of carry on on the other. It was quite a relief to get on the plane, typical of Ryanair they were weighing bags right up until boarding, having weighed many at check in, then again upon entering the departure area, then a third time as people boarded... just in case someone had decided to shop too much in the departure lounge and they could money grab some more.

Having flown so much with a variety of airlines over the last ten years I feel that I should be prepared for just about all kinds of passenger experiences. The flight from Stanstead to Fes was a revelation of utter chaos. Hand luggage was so abundant and oversized that by the time the plane was two thirds full with passengers every inch of overhead locker space had something squished, moulded or punched into it. The remaining passengers to board were told that they would have to place there large rigid pull along bags under the chair in front or it would be placed in the hold. This had to be reiterated about three times to some who were determined to find space in the overhead lockers. This along with repeated requests for phones and mp3 players to be switched off and seat belts buckled right up until we took off made it feel like we were the only people on the flight who had flown before. Within seconds of touching down at the other end people were out of their seats and grabbing their bags, it really was chaos.

Getting through security on both sides was also a bit of a stress. We have brought 2 laptops, 2 cameras and spare lenses, a flat screen TV, an external hard drive movie playing box, 3 MP3 players, speakers and all the accompanying cabling, most of which was stored in Nick's carry on bag. This caused the UK security to triple swab, scan and look at us very strangely. At the other end we had been told not to bring anything electrical as you have to pay duty on it. We were an easy target walking through customs with 100 kg of luggage. Thankfully the officer was so distracted by our snowboard bag, having no idea what one was and probably wondering about our state of mind when it was 40 degrees outside, that he failed to check any of the others.

As we waited patiently in the arrivals area, and the crowd thinned to a few stragglers, it dawned on us that perhaps it was something of an oversight not to have confirmed our arrival or even have requested a contact number of someone who knew who we were. Our 'driver' who had been standing there for a while eventually came over and introduced himself. Not sure exactly what he had been waiting for, there must have only been one or two other foreigners on the flight and they had been backpackers. Do we really look so unlikely to be responsible teachers?

The 60km drive from Fes to Ifrane took us about an hour. Sometimes we went at breakneck speed, at others crawling along at 20km an hour behind decrepit vans. We steadily climbed through rocky scrub land passing people clustered at the road side. Children were herding goats up the hillside, women piled on the back of donkeys, and local fruit and olive oil sellers sat despondently behind single buckets for sale. The buildings were run down and many half finished. We started to wonder what we had let ourselves in for. How was it possible that amongst all this poverty were heading up to a picturesque French style village where the rich and famous go to play? Just where were they going to find fountains and manicured lawns?

Another Cracker from Thailand...

Read recently on the highly entertaining Thai Visa...

Woman trashes husband's member

PETCHABOON: -- A woman in the northern province Phetchaboon was arrested last month for cutting off her husband’s penis and throwing it into a trash can at the local bus station.

Buariow Wannarat, 54, was caught at a police checkpoint while on a bus to Bangkok. Police escorted her back to Phetchaboon Town to point out the trash receptacle where she discarded her man’s member.

Meanwhile, her husband, 40-year-old Sawang Wannarat, was taken to Lom Sak Hospital, where he was last reported as being in a stable condition.

Mrs Buariow told police that she had been married for 21 years: when she was 33 and Mr Sawang was a sprightly 19.

Recently, however, Mr Sawang started to treat her very badly, drinking heavily and shouting at her in public, she said. There was also gossip going around town that he was seeing other women.

On September 14, Mrs Buariow was drinking beer with friends near her house when Mr Sawang walked up and began shouting at her that she was cheating on him.

He said he was going to leave her and made her prostrate herself at his feet.

Around 10am the next day, Mrs Buariow was still enraged by the loss of face. While out buying her husband’s breakfast, she stopped off at the pharmacy to get some sleeping pills.

She mixed some of the pills in Mr Sawang’s morning drink, gave it to him and waited for them to take effect.

While Mr Sawang was sound asleep, Mrs Buariow sliced off his penis and put it in a plastic bag. She then took a bus from their house in Lom Sak to Phetchaboon Town Bus Station, where she threw the organ in a trash can before boarding a bus to Bangkok.

She was stopped by police in Nong Phai District, which borders Muang District to the south.

After making Mrs Buariow tell them where she threw the penis, police sent the organ to Lom Sak Hospital so doctors could try and reattach it.

At the time of writing it was still unclear whether Mr Sawang would regain any use of his severed manhood.

Thai doctors are world-renowned for the expertise in reattaching severed penises.

Knowing this, some of those responsible for the cutting have taken extra precautions to make such surgery impossible. Severed members have been boiled, fed to ducks or even attached to hot air balloons in the past.

The Mighty Kruger – 17/08/10

Named after Paul Kruger, an old president of the Transvaal Republic, Kruger National Park is the largest game park on the African continent. Stretching 360 kilometres down from Zimbabwe and along a large part of the border with Mozambique, Kruger has been a haven for African wildlife for well over a hundred years, and is arguably the most famous game park in the world.

We have about two and a half days in Kruger, time to get our final fill of game parking before we head home. After our twelve hour marathon game drive in Hluhluwe, I have insisted that we do things a little differently this time. To avoid my brain turning completely to mulch we have agreed to drive until mid-afternoon, take a break and then go out again for an hour before sunset. We make these plans with such misguided optimism. For our three days in and around Kruger we are staying in three different places. On paper the two hundred kilometre journey between camps doesn't seem like much of a challenge. What we both failed to take into account was the fact that the average speed you travel is about thirty kilometres an hour. With stops. And lots of reversing for glimpses of imaginary animals. And lots of detours along dirt roads as Nick is truly convinced that just around each and every corner will be that big male lion asleep in the road that every person we know that has visited Kruger has pictures of.

For our first day in the park we were staying at Lataba Camp, which is about halfway up the park. In the days before coming to Kruger we had been advised by lots of locals about the best areas for spotting game. Everybody had their favourite and 'guaranteed' place for lions and leopards, and we tried to fit as many of these into our drive north through the park. The day started well with a rare glimpse of an African wild dog crossing the road in the distance. Sadly, it was all too brief and a bit far for me to really make out. After that disappeared we saw nothing living for at least an hour.

Kruger is the seventh game park we have visited and after all the hype and 'guarantees' our first day was bound to be a bit of a let down. The temperature rocketed and with the windows down, the air-con off and little air movement, we roasted in our little hot-box of a car. The blazing sun also meant that any animal with sense was hiding in the shade and therefore invisible. After hours of searching in ever increasing heat, and a few frustratingly near misses of lions and leopards, we realized we had covered only about a third of our distance and would not make it to the camp before the gates were locked if we carried on at that pace. We changed our route and joined the busier tarmac road that our local advisers had told us to avoid as much as possible. Surprisingly we saw far more animals from the busy roads than on the dirt roads through the more remote areas. A well hidden leopard is far more likely to be spotted when twenty cars go past it instead of one. With all those eyes looking somebody is bound to spot it. As much as we tried to avoid those busy roads, preferring to spot our own animals than rely on others, we did eventually admit that our best chance of seeing something is to just look for the collection of parked cars. The lazy man's safari.

When we eventually rolled into camp, tired, dusty and hungry, we quickly got our braai going for our much anticipated BBQ. Annoyingly, when we went to the kitchen to collect the tools, we found that our provided 'full kitchen' only actually had a sink in it. We then had to run around the camp looking for somewhere we could buy paper plates and plastic knives and forks. While we enjoyed our food we were joined by a large hyena who, drawn by the smell, then paced up and down ten feet away from us on the other side of the fence. 

 

The next day we were up at 5.30 am and joined a 'bush walk' that took us on a game tracking expedition into the park. We were told there was little chance of seeing predators, but we did come across some fresh leopard and lion prints. The walk was more to teach us how to spot the small signs that help you track the animals. We followed a bull elephant quite closely for a while and then visited a pool where we were peered at by a semi-submerged hippo.

Following the bush walk we made our long, but slightly less baking way south to Skukuza Camp, one of the biggest camps in the park. The day was a lot more successful for spotting animals, we saw all of the big five in the space of a few hours. The day was long again, but we only have two more nights until we go home so the excitement is keeping any boredom in check. In about three days I will be home. I feel like a kid at Christmas.

Back to beautiful S. A

14/08/10

Sitting outside on a veranda with a private garden in the corner of a beautiful sprawling Italian style villa farmhouse. The sun is going down, the crickets are singing, and there's a lovely smokey smell coming from our freshly lit braai. Being back in South Africa is such a relief after the frustrations of Mozambique. The weather failed to changed and we didn't have the time or the patience to wait it out. It became depressing sitting around and not being able to go out. There was so much to see out there, the ocean was just too rough to go out.

After the slightly terrifying journey up to Tofu with our two French friends, who became our very entertaining campsite neighbours for 4 nights, we decided to catch the organized tourist shuttle that runs between Fatima's Tofu and Fatima's Maputo. We paid a lot more to go on this bus than the local chappas, but thought it worth it to have a little more space and comfort for the 8 hour journey. We had to get up at 3.30 am to catch the 4.00 bus. There were so many people waiting I thought they must have overbooked. Obviously not as everyone was squeezed on, some riding on top of the huge amount of tourist luggage. They had a person on every seat and each person had a big bag. Picture this and you'll work out this is not going to leave much space or comfort options. It was so disheartening to see how money grabbing the backpackers could be. Sadly it seems to be standard in Mozambique.

After our experience of Maputo Backpackers we decided to splash out and stay in the Ibis. At the backpackers we paid $40 for the both of us to stay in a dorm. At the Ibis we paid $65 for a double with bathroom and breakfast. Sounds like a deal right? Our room was on the eighth floor and soon after we arrived the lifts stopped working. Our key card wouldn't work and it took 4 requests to get a replacement. Our room was set up as a single. When we went down for breakfast the only thing there was cereal, without milk, ham and cheese, without bread, fruit juice but no coffee. We were then told to hike back up to our room and get our bags as no one was willing to go and get them without the lifts working. The ultimate annoyance was that the lift engineers were all taking their time waiting for the breakfast as it slowly emerged from the kitchen. Excluding the hotel, the food in Mozambique is amazing. It's just finding a stress free sleep that seems impossible.

…..............

Just crossing the border into S.A, what a relief. When we go back to Mozambique, as we must, we'll need to be a little more prepared for all the challenges.

Back in S.A we picked up a car from Nelspruit and drove through the Drakkensberg Escarpment to Graskop. We stayed in a beautiful backpackers called Valley View. This welcoming place is run by Andrew, a young guy with such constant frenetic energy he appears to bounce like Tigger. At Valley View we got a unit with bathroom, kitchen, double room, bunk bed room and our own sun deck all for the same price of the dorm in Maputo... not to keep bringing it up or anything. From Graskop we went on a day trip up to God's Window, Blyde River Canyon and the Three Rondhavels.