My friend Doris Jensen will understand when I say that when you're close to it, you become attuned to the sounds and rhythm of the ocean so that your mind almost slows down or gears up to match it. She and I spent two weeks together on the island of Zanzibar, my childhood home.
We had a little bungalow right on the beach, under tall palm trees, our veranda facing the sea. In the early morning we walked the beach, picking up shells, examining old 'beached' fishing boats, escaping the village dog packs! Later we watched as children walked to school carrying their books or, in some cases, cycling along the beach. We watched as their mothers, aunts and grandmothers worked in the sea, where sticks emerged marking their individual plots, to gather seaweed. These were government sponsored women's collectives who sold their seaweed to companies world wide for the manufacture of toothpaste among other things. We sat on our veranda and watched the tide coming in and the fisherman in a nearby village taking their boats out...and so on throughout the day. Our activities were more governed by the tides than the clock!
We seem to be lulled into a kind of mechanical habit on the ship. Depending on classes and meals we wander the corridors, carrying our books, smiling vague smiles and muttering greetings as we go. I have reverted to the tropical custom of many years and lie on my bed reading in the afternoons until 2.20 pm or 3.45 pm, my own class times. After class there is the 5 pm social hour in the faculty lounge where our brilliant barman, Mandy, effortlessly hands out drinks and 'slips' for signature. He barely pauses to ask for orders...he knows and remembers!
There are seminars in the evenings if one chooses or, as George and I tend to do, you can 'escape' to your cabin to watch a movie, read a book or go to your computer. We relish our down time alone on many evenings.
To explain that last statement: one of the greatest disadvantages of this voyage (and there aren't many!) is the fact that one is rarely alone. George is accessible, as are all the other Profs nearly 12 hours a day. This is wonderful in many ways. It has given us both an opportunity, rare on land based campuses, to really get to know students and for myself attending classes with them has added to that. We also share our lives every day with other 'participants' be they faculty members or life long learners. THere is great satisfaction and pleasure to be gained from this but again 'alone' time becomes increasingly important to one's state of mind. We have both realised that we need that....especially as the voyage draws to an end.
We are fortunate enough to have a large cabin and balcony so one huge pleasure which we share is simply observing the changing moods of the sea and sky. For me this is the sheer magic of travelling by sea which I have done since my early childhood.
Today there is an air of incredulity about the ship. We are docked in Honolulu, Hawaii to bunker or re-fuel. We are not allowed to leave the ship, the first day we have anchored in an American port for three months. I rarely complain about decisions made by Semester at Sea (I benefit so much from its existence)but this is a foolish one in my opinion. To deny 450 students the possibility of stepping on to American soil after three months away from home seems both cruel and somehow punitive. Tomorrow is American Thanksgiving and we shall spend 12 hours in Hilo, Hawaii. Hardly sufficient time for them to get to know the place, let alone the fact that they are miles from home on such a significant day. Passengers on this ship are nearly all American citizens, many of them away from home and family for the first time in their lives....this is at the very least a questionable decision.
Another wonderful aspect of life on board is our extended family. We have four 'daughters', Emma, Rachel, Ngerry and Lilly. They are a delightful quartette and tonight we have been celebrating Thanksgiving. We had a turkey dinner in the Garden lounge, with pumpkin pie followed by an ice cream cake...even Emma who tells us she can eat anything was daunted! (The ice cream cake was my separate idea and in the event quite unecessary!) Our present family is the greatest fun and we hve enjoyed them so much. It is lovely to hear them calling our "Hi Mum!' "Hi Dad!" as we go about the ship.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
Yokohama - Japan
There are a few cities which seem to welcome you into their midst immediately and Yokohama is one of them. From the sloping grass and cedar walkways which border the dock where we berth into the streets of the city. The buildings are tall but not massively so, unlike Hong Kong and Shanghai the city seems restrained and older, more traditional.
At another permanent berth across the harbour we could see the 1930s ship we had visited last year, the NYK Hikawamaru which has become part of the Yokohama Maritime Museum. We had so enjoyed its Art Decco decoration and the glimpse into a passenger liner of another era that we determined to visit it again.
It is always a surprise in Yokohama to look our of your cabin door and see walkers, runners and families strolling in the park outside and climbing a hill which affords them a view right into your cabin if you haappen to be on the Port side of the ship...as we are. We each forgot at different times and had to beat a hasty retreat, half dressed and draw the curtains hurriedly! But it such a pleasure to see people of all ages enjoying their surroundings so much. There is activity right up until sunset.
On the first day, which was sunny and surprisingly warm, George and I took a favourite stroll to a nearby traffic-free waterfront park. It was filled with families, back-packed mothers and children running free. There are two large red wooden warehouses, the second of which successfully hides a shopping market inside...you would never guess if you didn't know! We wandered there after a delicious lunch in an artisan's cafe which was barn like and white walled and had huge windows facing the seaside park so wonderfully light.
There is such a feeling of order in Japan, especially after the crowded chaos of India, Vietnam and China. Order and discipline perhaps and it is, as I said before about Kobe, quieter. People acutally take notice at crossings of the little green and red men flashing on and off...they actually wait! Also one feels incredibly safe in Japan, so alot of pressure is off.
We returned to the ship relaxed and happy that evening and decided to stay on board. The next morning george rushed off to make sure we could again visit our ship ignoring everyone who told him 'But it's closed...it says so everywhere', 'Only on Monday' he replied 'Today is Tuesday!' To me he said 'Give me just 10 minutes and I'll be back'.
So one and a half hours later George reappeared with the good news that NYK Hikawamaru was open but that he had just decided to go for a short (?!) walk around the place before returning to the ship. Interestingly when he had said 10 minutes I had recalculated into 'George time' and thought at the very least an hour, probably more and I was spot on.
We went over our beloved little ship again, through the carpeted corridors and elegant lounges, peering into the first class cabins with stained glass windows, climbing the curved central staircase and gazing at the square art decco designs on the ceilings and mirrors. We read the 5 and 6 course menus in the dark panelled dining room, tables beautifully set with crystal, silver, fine china and tiny vases with delicate flowers.
Then we descended slowly to the 4 bunk 3rd class cabins, where the passengers helped peel potatoes in the kitchens and formed a community with the crew. We walked enviously the wide wrap-around decks lamenting the fact that we don't have them on the Explorer so cannot go for long walks without using staircases!
We explored the huge engine room which rises through three decks in the middle of the ship and made our way right up to the Captains deck, the wheel house, his cabin. We were both in our element, you would think we had had enough of ships and the sea wouldn't you? Apparently not.
We had our last meal in Chinatown (2nd largest next to the one in San Francisco)and once again wandered through Chinese streets and shops in this Japanese city!
After an arduous Customs session where the whole ship had to line up in the terminal to have our passports checked and they refused to start until every single person had left the ship...we finally sailed at about 11.30 pm. The Explorer waited until then (sailing time is always 8 pm) for a student who had lost her passport in Shanghai and been refused permission to board the ship. She had had to get a new passport and fly to Yokohama to rejoin!
There was almost a feeling of relief to know tht we shall not be in port for 9 days when we arrive in Hilo, Hawaii. The students have alot of time and work to get through before their exams and they have been bombarded with Asian ports for the last two weeks. They are finding it difficult to get their noses to the grindstone again.
The Pacific today (18th Nov) has been pretty windy and rough and this alone is tiring. We are all sleeping well with the rocking motion except those for whom this is a nightmare of sea sickness.
Let's hope for calmer seas tomorrow....and so to bed...
At another permanent berth across the harbour we could see the 1930s ship we had visited last year, the NYK Hikawamaru which has become part of the Yokohama Maritime Museum. We had so enjoyed its Art Decco decoration and the glimpse into a passenger liner of another era that we determined to visit it again.
It is always a surprise in Yokohama to look our of your cabin door and see walkers, runners and families strolling in the park outside and climbing a hill which affords them a view right into your cabin if you haappen to be on the Port side of the ship...as we are. We each forgot at different times and had to beat a hasty retreat, half dressed and draw the curtains hurriedly! But it such a pleasure to see people of all ages enjoying their surroundings so much. There is activity right up until sunset.
On the first day, which was sunny and surprisingly warm, George and I took a favourite stroll to a nearby traffic-free waterfront park. It was filled with families, back-packed mothers and children running free. There are two large red wooden warehouses, the second of which successfully hides a shopping market inside...you would never guess if you didn't know! We wandered there after a delicious lunch in an artisan's cafe which was barn like and white walled and had huge windows facing the seaside park so wonderfully light.
There is such a feeling of order in Japan, especially after the crowded chaos of India, Vietnam and China. Order and discipline perhaps and it is, as I said before about Kobe, quieter. People acutally take notice at crossings of the little green and red men flashing on and off...they actually wait! Also one feels incredibly safe in Japan, so alot of pressure is off.
We returned to the ship relaxed and happy that evening and decided to stay on board. The next morning george rushed off to make sure we could again visit our ship ignoring everyone who told him 'But it's closed...it says so everywhere', 'Only on Monday' he replied 'Today is Tuesday!' To me he said 'Give me just 10 minutes and I'll be back'.
So one and a half hours later George reappeared with the good news that NYK Hikawamaru was open but that he had just decided to go for a short (?!) walk around the place before returning to the ship. Interestingly when he had said 10 minutes I had recalculated into 'George time' and thought at the very least an hour, probably more and I was spot on.
We went over our beloved little ship again, through the carpeted corridors and elegant lounges, peering into the first class cabins with stained glass windows, climbing the curved central staircase and gazing at the square art decco designs on the ceilings and mirrors. We read the 5 and 6 course menus in the dark panelled dining room, tables beautifully set with crystal, silver, fine china and tiny vases with delicate flowers.
Then we descended slowly to the 4 bunk 3rd class cabins, where the passengers helped peel potatoes in the kitchens and formed a community with the crew. We walked enviously the wide wrap-around decks lamenting the fact that we don't have them on the Explorer so cannot go for long walks without using staircases!
We explored the huge engine room which rises through three decks in the middle of the ship and made our way right up to the Captains deck, the wheel house, his cabin. We were both in our element, you would think we had had enough of ships and the sea wouldn't you? Apparently not.
We had our last meal in Chinatown (2nd largest next to the one in San Francisco)and once again wandered through Chinese streets and shops in this Japanese city!
After an arduous Customs session where the whole ship had to line up in the terminal to have our passports checked and they refused to start until every single person had left the ship...we finally sailed at about 11.30 pm. The Explorer waited until then (sailing time is always 8 pm) for a student who had lost her passport in Shanghai and been refused permission to board the ship. She had had to get a new passport and fly to Yokohama to rejoin!
There was almost a feeling of relief to know tht we shall not be in port for 9 days when we arrive in Hilo, Hawaii. The students have alot of time and work to get through before their exams and they have been bombarded with Asian ports for the last two weeks. They are finding it difficult to get their noses to the grindstone again.
The Pacific today (18th Nov) has been pretty windy and rough and this alone is tiring. We are all sleeping well with the rocking motion except those for whom this is a nightmare of sea sickness.
Let's hope for calmer seas tomorrow....and so to bed...
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Kobe, Japan
I felt sick and tired - literally! I had absolutely no energy to do much as we sailed into Kobe. Because we have been there twice before George was happy to keep me company on our first day and we stayed on board. I had put myself on to anti biotics because I recognised the symptome of a chest infection which accelerates my asthma and gives me a gag inducing cough. I have had this before only on board the ship. On the first voyage three times and on the last only once...hopefully the same on this one.
The second day George was going on a hiking trip and I feeling much, much better, joined Brenda, Terry and Alfred on an exploration to find a particular Art Gallery. We left the ship and close by boarded the Port Liner, a fast train into town. We then collaborated on getting subway tickets from computer like machines and boarded the subway to the nearest station to the gallery. Once we were settled we noticed that it really picked up speed and sped through a couple of stations...oops, this was, we realised, the Speedy Express to Osaka! When it finally came to a halt we rushed off and caught the next slow train back to the correct subway station feeling like complete nits.
We weaked a short distance to the gallery, an impressive building built of massive concrete blocks. The architecture reminded me somewhat of Trent University in Peterborough. Looking up at its grey walls I suddenly thought 'What if there was an earthquake right this minute? This wall would fall on us and...well we'd be pancakes!' These thoughts of earthquakes and tsunamis were common to many of us I discovered. How could it not be so? We had a discussion as to whether the ship would make for open sea when the tsunami warning sounded and, if so, what happened to us?! Even on the ship as I stood on our balcony looking out to the beautiful skylines of Kobe and Yokohama I could see in my minds eye the buldings crumbling as I looked. There are grave disadvantages to having a vivid imagination.
We decided to have quick lunch prior to walking round the gallery so we found a cafeteria and sat outside in the sunshine eating sandwiches. Then with some difficulty we found, after riding up and down a couple of times in an elevator which would only go to Floor 3. some installation art spread through three rooms. The first was an artistic line up of rifles, looking threatening and ominous, the second had taken the rifles apart and concentrated on certain parts of them strewn round the room and the third depicted the melting of metal and other substances after the dropping of the A bomb...we presumed. The whole thing had power, the power to disturb greatly...and the power to depress.
We looked for something more cheerful and uplifting only to discover that out of three galleries, two were closed and we had seen the only one open to the public. As we had paid about $20.00 worth of Yen to enter we were a little, to say the least, disappointed!
Apart from an excellent coffee at Starbucks our day had been great fun certainly but unproductive and uninspiring! However strolling around Kobe is always a lovely reminder of how cities should be. People smile and are helpful, children are delightfully attractive and appealing: there are lovely walks and none of the noisy stress of other cities in India, China or North America. The Japanese seem to be a relatively quiet people, their culture demanding discipline and restraint. i haven't checked the suicide rate....might be interesting.
The second day George was going on a hiking trip and I feeling much, much better, joined Brenda, Terry and Alfred on an exploration to find a particular Art Gallery. We left the ship and close by boarded the Port Liner, a fast train into town. We then collaborated on getting subway tickets from computer like machines and boarded the subway to the nearest station to the gallery. Once we were settled we noticed that it really picked up speed and sped through a couple of stations...oops, this was, we realised, the Speedy Express to Osaka! When it finally came to a halt we rushed off and caught the next slow train back to the correct subway station feeling like complete nits.
We weaked a short distance to the gallery, an impressive building built of massive concrete blocks. The architecture reminded me somewhat of Trent University in Peterborough. Looking up at its grey walls I suddenly thought 'What if there was an earthquake right this minute? This wall would fall on us and...well we'd be pancakes!' These thoughts of earthquakes and tsunamis were common to many of us I discovered. How could it not be so? We had a discussion as to whether the ship would make for open sea when the tsunami warning sounded and, if so, what happened to us?! Even on the ship as I stood on our balcony looking out to the beautiful skylines of Kobe and Yokohama I could see in my minds eye the buldings crumbling as I looked. There are grave disadvantages to having a vivid imagination.
We decided to have quick lunch prior to walking round the gallery so we found a cafeteria and sat outside in the sunshine eating sandwiches. Then with some difficulty we found, after riding up and down a couple of times in an elevator which would only go to Floor 3. some installation art spread through three rooms. The first was an artistic line up of rifles, looking threatening and ominous, the second had taken the rifles apart and concentrated on certain parts of them strewn round the room and the third depicted the melting of metal and other substances after the dropping of the A bomb...we presumed. The whole thing had power, the power to disturb greatly...and the power to depress.
We looked for something more cheerful and uplifting only to discover that out of three galleries, two were closed and we had seen the only one open to the public. As we had paid about $20.00 worth of Yen to enter we were a little, to say the least, disappointed!
Apart from an excellent coffee at Starbucks our day had been great fun certainly but unproductive and uninspiring! However strolling around Kobe is always a lovely reminder of how cities should be. People smile and are helpful, children are delightfully attractive and appealing: there are lovely walks and none of the noisy stress of other cities in India, China or North America. The Japanese seem to be a relatively quiet people, their culture demanding discipline and restraint. i haven't checked the suicide rate....might be interesting.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Xi'an continued
Our memorable visit to the Terracotta Warriers was followed by a very welcome lunch in a Chinese restaurant. Cindy on every occasion helped us choose our meal and then absented herself to eat quietly in a corner in another part of the room. We enjoyed her company so much as we drove and walked but realised that she needed down time when we were at meals. Cindy was bright and attractive, very dainty and classily but simply dressed. She had a rare sense of humour and found us extremely amusing. She easily 'got' our jokes and chatter and joined in happily. She was a delightful companion. On one occasion I believe we disappointed her.
Alfred wanted dumplings...very much. He mentioned them often and Cindy decided that what we needed was a meal consisting mainly of dumplings. So for our second evening she booked us into a Theatre restaurant and ordered our meal early in the day. Because of our magnificent lunch and the fact that we had been walking around nearly all day we would have been happy to forgo a dumpling supper and have a light meal with tcho (our newly discovered word for wine!) followed by an early night. No, she informed us charmingly, the meal has been ordered and has to be eaten. The booking cannot be cancelled. So like good children we went.
The restaurant was lavishly decorated in red and gold, huge and expensive. Course after course was set upon the table...all dumplings! There were various shapes, sizes and fillings but it was all dumplings! I was still so full of our midday meal I could only manage one or two of them on the top layer of the multi-layered bamboo steamer in which they were served..and there were at least three more courses. I believe I ate the least but we all struggled and when Cindy joines us at the end of the meal I think we had truly disappointed her.
We checked out of the hotel just after nine the following morning...having all slept pretty well. It was raining again and very grey. We visited two museums and had another excellent lunch before visiting the Moslem Quarter and Mosque. The latter was a beautiful oasis in the centre of the busy, noisy city, built in the Chinese pagoda style with peaceful gardens. Surrounding it was an exciting market full of exotic foods and other interesting things which I would have loved to examine more closely. It was narrow, crowded and colourful but we were rushed through in case we should succumb and buy something which, Cindy assured us, "Will fall apart tomorrow!" George of course was delighted...
We had seen earlier in the day piles and piles of rosy pomegranets and. with memories of loving it as a child in India, I asked Cindy if pure fresh pomegranate juice could be found in Xi'an. 'Only in the Moslem Quarter' she had replied. As we were approaching our van she suddenly stopped and pointed out a couple who were pressing the ruby coloured juice out of the fruit seeds and serving it in paper cups. I was the only one to buy a cup full and it was worth it. It has a tangy, refreshing flavour, really different from any other fruit juice when taken alone with no other juice added. Delicious!
Our next stop was our last in Xi'an...the Railway Station. The van was unable to park close to the entrance so dropped the four of us and Cindy down the road. We had to fight through crowds to reach the entrance and then there was a further bottle-neck as security men checked our passports and tickets. This took quite some time but eventually we were through to the 'Soft lounge' where we sat on hard wooden seats until Cindy had organised our tickets and discovered which platform we would be leaving from. We waited until we were allowed through the door to the platforms, Cindy hurrying ahead of us, and went down a flight of stairs to platform 5, carriage 11 and bunk numbers 32,34,35,and 36. We had a clean, 4 sleeper compartment to ourselves. Each bunk was made up for the night with a dark brown blanket under a white sheet and a pillow, and each bunk was bordered with a cream brocade frill, matching one along the top of the window. It was all very civilised and comfortable. The upper bunks each had one step to help the brave occupier climb up...George and Alfred decided they had the courage!
Cindy bade us a fond goodbye after making sure we were settled and when I gave her a farewell hug became quite emotional and tearful and hurried away. She had told us alot about herself and her life over the previous 48 hours and we liked and respected her. After she had left we looked at each other and said "OK supper!"
George and Alfred had gone shopping in a supermarket the previous night and bought baguettes, cheese, sausage and wine. The four of us enjoyed another hilarious picnic meal as the train started off. It was great to be with another couple with whom we got on so well, it made living in such close quarters easy and comfortable and we found a great deal to laugh at!
The only disadvantage to overnight trains in China is the 'squatter' toilet which easily seems to become overused and smelly. Getting up during the night was relatively easy for Terry and myself but required mountaineering skills by the two men. However they both managed it!
Just a few moments after the men had decided it was bed time and climbed into their upper bunks Terry leaned across and whispered to me 'Look at the time!' I had put my tiny travel clock on our table, it read 8.55 pm! We decided not to pass on this information (in case they descended again) and enjoyed our books for the next hour or so, our minute, round bed lights lit the pages just sufficiently.
I did not sleep well: I found I was so enjoying the movement of the train and the experience of travelling through the middle of China to Shanghai that I was too excited to sleep.
We arrived in Shanghai at about 8 am, took a taxi to the Bund where we found a coffee bar and enjoyed a huge, delicious cup of coffee with a muffin. We could see that the Explorer had docked and a short cab ride later we were on board again and in our cabins to shower and catch up on sleep.
This had been one of the most exciting and enjoyable few days of the voyage for all of us. We will not easily forget it.
Alfred wanted dumplings...very much. He mentioned them often and Cindy decided that what we needed was a meal consisting mainly of dumplings. So for our second evening she booked us into a Theatre restaurant and ordered our meal early in the day. Because of our magnificent lunch and the fact that we had been walking around nearly all day we would have been happy to forgo a dumpling supper and have a light meal with tcho (our newly discovered word for wine!) followed by an early night. No, she informed us charmingly, the meal has been ordered and has to be eaten. The booking cannot be cancelled. So like good children we went.
The restaurant was lavishly decorated in red and gold, huge and expensive. Course after course was set upon the table...all dumplings! There were various shapes, sizes and fillings but it was all dumplings! I was still so full of our midday meal I could only manage one or two of them on the top layer of the multi-layered bamboo steamer in which they were served..and there were at least three more courses. I believe I ate the least but we all struggled and when Cindy joines us at the end of the meal I think we had truly disappointed her.
We checked out of the hotel just after nine the following morning...having all slept pretty well. It was raining again and very grey. We visited two museums and had another excellent lunch before visiting the Moslem Quarter and Mosque. The latter was a beautiful oasis in the centre of the busy, noisy city, built in the Chinese pagoda style with peaceful gardens. Surrounding it was an exciting market full of exotic foods and other interesting things which I would have loved to examine more closely. It was narrow, crowded and colourful but we were rushed through in case we should succumb and buy something which, Cindy assured us, "Will fall apart tomorrow!" George of course was delighted...
We had seen earlier in the day piles and piles of rosy pomegranets and. with memories of loving it as a child in India, I asked Cindy if pure fresh pomegranate juice could be found in Xi'an. 'Only in the Moslem Quarter' she had replied. As we were approaching our van she suddenly stopped and pointed out a couple who were pressing the ruby coloured juice out of the fruit seeds and serving it in paper cups. I was the only one to buy a cup full and it was worth it. It has a tangy, refreshing flavour, really different from any other fruit juice when taken alone with no other juice added. Delicious!
Our next stop was our last in Xi'an...the Railway Station. The van was unable to park close to the entrance so dropped the four of us and Cindy down the road. We had to fight through crowds to reach the entrance and then there was a further bottle-neck as security men checked our passports and tickets. This took quite some time but eventually we were through to the 'Soft lounge' where we sat on hard wooden seats until Cindy had organised our tickets and discovered which platform we would be leaving from. We waited until we were allowed through the door to the platforms, Cindy hurrying ahead of us, and went down a flight of stairs to platform 5, carriage 11 and bunk numbers 32,34,35,and 36. We had a clean, 4 sleeper compartment to ourselves. Each bunk was made up for the night with a dark brown blanket under a white sheet and a pillow, and each bunk was bordered with a cream brocade frill, matching one along the top of the window. It was all very civilised and comfortable. The upper bunks each had one step to help the brave occupier climb up...George and Alfred decided they had the courage!
Cindy bade us a fond goodbye after making sure we were settled and when I gave her a farewell hug became quite emotional and tearful and hurried away. She had told us alot about herself and her life over the previous 48 hours and we liked and respected her. After she had left we looked at each other and said "OK supper!"
George and Alfred had gone shopping in a supermarket the previous night and bought baguettes, cheese, sausage and wine. The four of us enjoyed another hilarious picnic meal as the train started off. It was great to be with another couple with whom we got on so well, it made living in such close quarters easy and comfortable and we found a great deal to laugh at!
The only disadvantage to overnight trains in China is the 'squatter' toilet which easily seems to become overused and smelly. Getting up during the night was relatively easy for Terry and myself but required mountaineering skills by the two men. However they both managed it!
Just a few moments after the men had decided it was bed time and climbed into their upper bunks Terry leaned across and whispered to me 'Look at the time!' I had put my tiny travel clock on our table, it read 8.55 pm! We decided not to pass on this information (in case they descended again) and enjoyed our books for the next hour or so, our minute, round bed lights lit the pages just sufficiently.
I did not sleep well: I found I was so enjoying the movement of the train and the experience of travelling through the middle of China to Shanghai that I was too excited to sleep.
We arrived in Shanghai at about 8 am, took a taxi to the Bund where we found a coffee bar and enjoyed a huge, delicious cup of coffee with a muffin. We could see that the Explorer had docked and a short cab ride later we were on board again and in our cabins to shower and catch up on sleep.
This had been one of the most exciting and enjoyable few days of the voyage for all of us. We will not easily forget it.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Xi'an and Terracotta Warriers
In trying to make the waiters and waitresses understand our desire to buy a bottle of wine in our hotel Alfred said in his best (very Southern USA) English accent "Waaahn...waaahn?". Ah they understood...'lai sha ma' they said their faces lighting up and many nodding heads. No movement though...'Lay sha maah' repeated Alfred in his best Chinese....again nodding heads and delighted smiles but slightly puzzled expressions as he continued to ask..'Lay sha maah?' Eventually he caught sight of a beverage menu, found the wine and he and George decided on a particular bottle. $30.00 (!!) later we had a bottle of wine and retired to Terry and Alfred's room to enjoy it. All of us congratulating Alfred on his prowess in the Chinese language.
The next morning we met Cindy and Mr Lee to continue out tour to the Terracotta Warriers. We were explaining to Cindy our difficulty in purchasing the wine but that we had learned the word for 'wine', 'Lai sha ma' we told her was going to be a valuable addition to our vocabulary in China. She put her hand over her nouth, turned away and started to giggle. OK so our pronunciation wasn't the best but surely not that funny?
We looked at each other, perplexed, as she continued to rock back and forth laughing now out loud. "You were asking why? why? WHY? " she burst out..'Why?' we thought...'WHY?'.... no wonder they had looked puzzled as Alfred kept repeating the Chinese word joyously to them! What is the word then we asked...'Tcho' she replied 'TCHO' we all repeated..and you can imagine perhaps how often and how confidently we used that word thereafter!! (For any of you visiting China "Great Wall" Cabernet is the best red we tasted...and we did that...often!)
It was a miserable, grey day outside as we drove through the crowded streets of Xi'an and out beyond the city limits to Pit 1 of the huge excavation site where the Terracotta Warriers had been found.
One day in 1974 a farmer and his friends were drilling for water and discovered to their surprise, pottery fragments and bronze weapons in the soil beneath them. These they took to be examined by experts and further excavation over a few years revealed the massive 3 pits covering an area of 20,000 square meters which proved to be the burial pit of China's first feudal Emperor, Quin Shi Huan. 8,000 Terracotta armoured warriers and horses and more than 100 chariots were buried there! This has become the on site Museum which we visited. There has been on going excavation ever since the first discovery and the tomb is more than 2,200years old! It is now on UNESCO's list as a world class heritage site.
I have always wanted to see these warriers, from the day I first learned of their discovery. They have somehow fed my imagination and wonder but I never imagined I would have the opportunity to do so. Believe me when I say they do not disappoint. I stared down at their faces, a dusty ochre in colour, each one different, marching forward silently through eternity...it was an awe inspiring sight They stretch into the distance under the vast concrete 'tent' that is their shelter and we all stared in amazement at this masterpiece of human creation. The men who made them were buried alive as were more than a thousand concubines to serve their master in death. Here was almost mystical creation coupled with the dreadful destruction of human life. That it occurred two thousand years ago does not lessen the horror of the act or the enormity of the human skill on display.
We seemed each to be in our own minds as we walked slowly around, absorbing and seeing but not sharing our thoughts and reactions. This was the burial place of more than an Emperor, somewhere here were the remains of thousands of human beings, victims of one man's colossal ego. The early Killing Fields of China? But it is the wonder of human endeavour that ultimately triumphs and one feels insignificant in the face of it. I have rarely been so moved and humbled by art, because that is what this is...a monumental work of art.
The next morning we met Cindy and Mr Lee to continue out tour to the Terracotta Warriers. We were explaining to Cindy our difficulty in purchasing the wine but that we had learned the word for 'wine', 'Lai sha ma' we told her was going to be a valuable addition to our vocabulary in China. She put her hand over her nouth, turned away and started to giggle. OK so our pronunciation wasn't the best but surely not that funny?
We looked at each other, perplexed, as she continued to rock back and forth laughing now out loud. "You were asking why? why? WHY? " she burst out..'Why?' we thought...'WHY?'.... no wonder they had looked puzzled as Alfred kept repeating the Chinese word joyously to them! What is the word then we asked...'Tcho' she replied 'TCHO' we all repeated..and you can imagine perhaps how often and how confidently we used that word thereafter!! (For any of you visiting China "Great Wall" Cabernet is the best red we tasted...and we did that...often!)
It was a miserable, grey day outside as we drove through the crowded streets of Xi'an and out beyond the city limits to Pit 1 of the huge excavation site where the Terracotta Warriers had been found.
One day in 1974 a farmer and his friends were drilling for water and discovered to their surprise, pottery fragments and bronze weapons in the soil beneath them. These they took to be examined by experts and further excavation over a few years revealed the massive 3 pits covering an area of 20,000 square meters which proved to be the burial pit of China's first feudal Emperor, Quin Shi Huan. 8,000 Terracotta armoured warriers and horses and more than 100 chariots were buried there! This has become the on site Museum which we visited. There has been on going excavation ever since the first discovery and the tomb is more than 2,200years old! It is now on UNESCO's list as a world class heritage site.
I have always wanted to see these warriers, from the day I first learned of their discovery. They have somehow fed my imagination and wonder but I never imagined I would have the opportunity to do so. Believe me when I say they do not disappoint. I stared down at their faces, a dusty ochre in colour, each one different, marching forward silently through eternity...it was an awe inspiring sight They stretch into the distance under the vast concrete 'tent' that is their shelter and we all stared in amazement at this masterpiece of human creation. The men who made them were buried alive as were more than a thousand concubines to serve their master in death. Here was almost mystical creation coupled with the dreadful destruction of human life. That it occurred two thousand years ago does not lessen the horror of the act or the enormity of the human skill on display.
We seemed each to be in our own minds as we walked slowly around, absorbing and seeing but not sharing our thoughts and reactions. This was the burial place of more than an Emperor, somewhere here were the remains of thousands of human beings, victims of one man's colossal ego. The early Killing Fields of China? But it is the wonder of human endeavour that ultimately triumphs and one feels insignificant in the face of it. I have rarely been so moved and humbled by art, because that is what this is...a monumental work of art.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Xi'an
We arrived at the airport in good time for our flight and were able to wander around a little. It is another beautiful, modern almost barn like building. It is shaped, but I hadn't seen it then, like the huge structure which covers Pit 1 of the excavation of the Terracotta warriers! Check in was a breeze and I was persuaded to check in my back pack as I had a tube of toothpaste which was too large for the allowed amount of cream or paste. I never mind doing this as it frees me up to walk around stress free and in comfort.
There were others sharing the plane, (Eastern Airline), with us from Semester at Sea, (as we had shared their bus), who were staying another night in Xi'an and flying down to Shanghai. We on the other hand would be spending that night in a "soft sleeper' on the train.
The flight over Hong Kong was spectacular before we flew straight out to sea and then North West over land to the middle of China and Xi'an. The flight lasted two and a half hours, the last half hour through thick mist and fog. We could not see land or trees until we actually landed!
Again going through Customs was simple and smooth and I went ahead to meet our guide. Cindy was standing at the barrier carrying a sign reading Margaret Nan Thomas, so their was no mistaking her! Her first words when she saw me were "But where is your luggage?" This is it I said. She looked at us all suspiciously and said severely "You must have some luggage..no?" NO, we replied this is it! I thought oh dear she is going to be very rigid and strict. She was petite and quick., with medium length straight black hair and a very serious expression. She walked fast to the waiting 6 seater van and introduced us to our driver, Mr Lee.
'He is the second fastest driver in Xi'an' she told us when we were driving off, 'Who is the fastest?' someone asked 'Oh he's dead, killed in motor accident' she replied and we realised that she was grinning mischievously...ah thank the lord she had a sense of humour!
It was about an hour's drive to our hotel, the Skytel, in the middle of the city. The entrance hall was Chinese grand. That is there were dark marble walls, a glistening chandelier above the reception desk and very little English was spoken. Cindy arranged our morning meeting time for 9 am and suggested we eat our first meal in the hotel dining room that evening.
Our rooms were clean, large and modern. There was a kettle, tea bags and two white mugs. The floor and walls of the bathroom were of marble and the carpet an uninspiring mustard colour. The beds were hard but I thought 'Good for my back!'. Terry and Alfred were next door.
Our dinner that evening was a very Chinese one and delicious. We had great fun attempting to make ourselves understood to the waiters and waitresses all formally dressed in black and white. Alfred is a natural comedian and we had hilarious conversations whilst using our chop sticks and trying to identify what we were eating. The back ground music to all this was Jewish. Next to us, behind a partial wooden partition was a group of Jewish men and women celebrating their Sabbath...they joined us again the next morning at breakfast when their enthusiastic chanting drowned out the possibility of much conversation!
There were others sharing the plane, (Eastern Airline), with us from Semester at Sea, (as we had shared their bus), who were staying another night in Xi'an and flying down to Shanghai. We on the other hand would be spending that night in a "soft sleeper' on the train.
The flight over Hong Kong was spectacular before we flew straight out to sea and then North West over land to the middle of China and Xi'an. The flight lasted two and a half hours, the last half hour through thick mist and fog. We could not see land or trees until we actually landed!
Again going through Customs was simple and smooth and I went ahead to meet our guide. Cindy was standing at the barrier carrying a sign reading Margaret Nan Thomas, so their was no mistaking her! Her first words when she saw me were "But where is your luggage?" This is it I said. She looked at us all suspiciously and said severely "You must have some luggage..no?" NO, we replied this is it! I thought oh dear she is going to be very rigid and strict. She was petite and quick., with medium length straight black hair and a very serious expression. She walked fast to the waiting 6 seater van and introduced us to our driver, Mr Lee.
'He is the second fastest driver in Xi'an' she told us when we were driving off, 'Who is the fastest?' someone asked 'Oh he's dead, killed in motor accident' she replied and we realised that she was grinning mischievously...ah thank the lord she had a sense of humour!
It was about an hour's drive to our hotel, the Skytel, in the middle of the city. The entrance hall was Chinese grand. That is there were dark marble walls, a glistening chandelier above the reception desk and very little English was spoken. Cindy arranged our morning meeting time for 9 am and suggested we eat our first meal in the hotel dining room that evening.
Our rooms were clean, large and modern. There was a kettle, tea bags and two white mugs. The floor and walls of the bathroom were of marble and the carpet an uninspiring mustard colour. The beds were hard but I thought 'Good for my back!'. Terry and Alfred were next door.
Our dinner that evening was a very Chinese one and delicious. We had great fun attempting to make ourselves understood to the waiters and waitresses all formally dressed in black and white. Alfred is a natural comedian and we had hilarious conversations whilst using our chop sticks and trying to identify what we were eating. The back ground music to all this was Jewish. Next to us, behind a partial wooden partition was a group of Jewish men and women celebrating their Sabbath...they joined us again the next morning at breakfast when their enthusiastic chanting drowned out the possibility of much conversation!
Monday, November 7, 2011
Goodbye Hong Kong! 4th November
We have had a brief but enjoyable stay in Hong kong. Hard to believe we only arrived here yesterday morning.
At 11 am we, that is Terry, Alfred, Jane, Patrick and ourselved took the subway to the jade market. We had so much walking to do to reach the train I thought we should have been about level with the market but no....we got off it at the second stop and then walked back.
While Jane Terry and I walked slowly round the steaming market the three men sat in an Indian restaurant drinking beer...sensible guys! I did buy a few pieces: bracelet, pendant and another Budha to add to my collection. I now have 6 on board, apart from a Budha pendant I love and bought for about four dollars in Vietnam! At home there await my Dad's lovely, serene brass one which has travelled the world with our family for nearly eighty years and started the whole collection, my favourite jade one bought last year at the same jade market here and a tiny green jade one bought in a Chinese shop I used to frequent in Hamilton. I must have been Budhist in a past life and may very well become one again in this life!
We had a lovely Chinese lunch in a purely Chinese restaurant and then walked, God help me, back to the ship. Hence a really bad back this morning which makes me feel a hundred years old! I also seem to have a rheumatism in one of my toes so I truly feel decrepid! I have attempted to make my back pack as light as it can possibly be but it's amazing how hard that is....do I really need this stuff? Apparently I do!
Last night we all succumbed and had a Vietnamese meal in the mall right where we are berthed. Lovely and cool and the food superb. We have met such great people on the ship this year. Brenda and Steve Malloy also joined us for supper...Amy Unruh has gone off to Tibet! Looking forward very much to hearing about that trip when we all get back to the ship in Shanghai. The monks are not happy there and the group is being very restricted in their movements.
So we set off to the airport by taxi (unless we can hitch a bus ride from an SAS group who are leaving at the same time, same flight. Not striclty allowed but we'll ask the powers that be and see if it can be arranged.
Later...much later! Tuesday 7th nov.
We did indeed receive permission to travel to the airport on an SAS bus. Alfred and George said Oh no we shouldn't ask...not done. However I thought that foolish and went through the authorities myself and was givven immediate permission by both the purser's office and the staff. As there were only 8 peoplec travelling on the same flight as ourselves to Xi'an it would have been churlish of them to refuse four seats in a bus built to carry at least 30 passengers! I even offered to pay a fare and was turned down on that score so all was well and our ride to the airport smooth and worry free.
More on Xi'an and our train trip to Shanghai later.
At 11 am we, that is Terry, Alfred, Jane, Patrick and ourselved took the subway to the jade market. We had so much walking to do to reach the train I thought we should have been about level with the market but no....we got off it at the second stop and then walked back.
While Jane Terry and I walked slowly round the steaming market the three men sat in an Indian restaurant drinking beer...sensible guys! I did buy a few pieces: bracelet, pendant and another Budha to add to my collection. I now have 6 on board, apart from a Budha pendant I love and bought for about four dollars in Vietnam! At home there await my Dad's lovely, serene brass one which has travelled the world with our family for nearly eighty years and started the whole collection, my favourite jade one bought last year at the same jade market here and a tiny green jade one bought in a Chinese shop I used to frequent in Hamilton. I must have been Budhist in a past life and may very well become one again in this life!
We had a lovely Chinese lunch in a purely Chinese restaurant and then walked, God help me, back to the ship. Hence a really bad back this morning which makes me feel a hundred years old! I also seem to have a rheumatism in one of my toes so I truly feel decrepid! I have attempted to make my back pack as light as it can possibly be but it's amazing how hard that is....do I really need this stuff? Apparently I do!
Last night we all succumbed and had a Vietnamese meal in the mall right where we are berthed. Lovely and cool and the food superb. We have met such great people on the ship this year. Brenda and Steve Malloy also joined us for supper...Amy Unruh has gone off to Tibet! Looking forward very much to hearing about that trip when we all get back to the ship in Shanghai. The monks are not happy there and the group is being very restricted in their movements.
So we set off to the airport by taxi (unless we can hitch a bus ride from an SAS group who are leaving at the same time, same flight. Not striclty allowed but we'll ask the powers that be and see if it can be arranged.
Later...much later! Tuesday 7th nov.
We did indeed receive permission to travel to the airport on an SAS bus. Alfred and George said Oh no we shouldn't ask...not done. However I thought that foolish and went through the authorities myself and was givven immediate permission by both the purser's office and the staff. As there were only 8 peoplec travelling on the same flight as ourselves to Xi'an it would have been churlish of them to refuse four seats in a bus built to carry at least 30 passengers! I even offered to pay a fare and was turned down on that score so all was well and our ride to the airport smooth and worry free.
More on Xi'an and our train trip to Shanghai later.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Vietnam information for travellers.
A few points about life in Vietnam:
1) When you go to a hospital in Saigon to have your child you may end up on a mattress on the floor surrounded by other mothers about to give birth. There is apparently a huge shortage of beds.
2) If someone in your family says to you 'You are too thin and ugly!' it is a compliment becuse it shows they care!! Thin seems to equal ugly for some reason...
3) Many people in South East Asia are Lactose intolerant because in early times they were not nomadic, not herders of cattle, and so went straight from hunter-gathering to farming.
4) Among the Montagnards, a people of the mountains, in the area called Dalat, the women choose the men who are to be their partners for life. The man then becomes a possession of the woman's family.
5) The religions of Vietnam are Budhism (80%) Christianity (10%)
others, including Hinduism, the remainder.
6) Politicians in Hanoi are corrupt and hypocritical and their children rich and spoiled. The son of the 'second in command' to the President, (for want of a better description!) bought 27 BMW cars for his friends and had a race...using his father's money and prestige.
7) Our guide to Phan Thiet, Thien, is the son of a farmer, one of nine children. He has a wife and one small child, a son. His mission in life is to protect and take care of them. He is also ambitious and works extremely hard to support them. He is a University graduate, speaks very good English that is self taught. He is also teaching himself Spanish to get a better position and he speaks some Russian and Chinese. He is happy now to be paid a salary rather than working for very little on commission. He has travelled to Hong Kong and lived there as an exile for 8 years. He and his family live in a small apartment in Saigon. To get home he has to travel by bus for an hour and then walk half a mile. He left us at about 7.30 pm so would not be home until about 9.30 pm. He had to be back at the Port to accompany another group by 7 am the following morning!
8) Taxi drivers can be corrupt and it is only sensible to use recommended cabs. Those near the Port are notorious. They have no meters and will agree a price, then put it up and lock all doors so that you are literally trapped into paying. They can become very aggressive if they don't receive what they ask for and shout at their passengers. A number of students had been badly scared by their behaviour.
9) However...most Vietnamese who we met were delightful, very friendly and helpful. We met only a few who spoke good English and making oneself understood is certainly part of the fun...knowing how to mime successfully helps! It is also very difficult to understand Vietnamese English!
10) It is possible in Saigon to go to a tailor, be measured and have a suit or shirts ready for pick up in under a day. The measurements are then stored and clothes may then be ordered in the future from the US and Canada. Many women on the ship either bought stunning silk and other fabrics and/or had dresses made in a similarly short time...all the finished products that I have seen fit beautifully and are professionally finished and tailored. Very impressive!
11) Vietnamese food is delicious! It is influenced by both Chinese and Indian fare and the spices used are delicate and peppery, rarely overpowering. It is almost as good as Thai food and better than Chinese.
Lemongrass is a very popular ingredient, as are soy, tofu, sesame seed, coconut and peanuts. Desserts and fruit drinks often contain a delicious vanilla ice cream. Most are very sweet! Instant coffee is sweetened as is yoghurt.
12) Architecture is an interesting mix of Chinese, French Colonial and typically Vietnamese structures. The Opera House in Saigon is a copy of the Opera House in Paris. On our way to Phan Thiet I noticed that the residences behind the shop lined streets were ornate, tall, narrow and sometimes three or four stories high. The more modest houses, between the shop fronts, were small and square, some with beautiful and simple Art Decco designs (reminiscent of Renee McIntosh)adorning the exterior walls and window panes. Others appeared more elaborate and rather Indian...to my eyes. The streets are very French with trees running down their centres and sides, giving much needed shade.
There is a huge amount of new building going on in Saigon. The Koreans are known as good builders and are constructing expensive looking apartment complexes and offices everywhere. The skyline of the city has changed in the last 18 months with many more skyscrapers of varying heights and shapes are sprouting up. If we ever return it will no doubt have metamorphasised into a Hong Kong-like city.
13) Lastly, and surprisingly, the Vietnamese LOVE Halloween and there are the scariest masks for sale that I have ever seen!
1) When you go to a hospital in Saigon to have your child you may end up on a mattress on the floor surrounded by other mothers about to give birth. There is apparently a huge shortage of beds.
2) If someone in your family says to you 'You are too thin and ugly!' it is a compliment becuse it shows they care!! Thin seems to equal ugly for some reason...
3) Many people in South East Asia are Lactose intolerant because in early times they were not nomadic, not herders of cattle, and so went straight from hunter-gathering to farming.
4) Among the Montagnards, a people of the mountains, in the area called Dalat, the women choose the men who are to be their partners for life. The man then becomes a possession of the woman's family.
5) The religions of Vietnam are Budhism (80%) Christianity (10%)
others, including Hinduism, the remainder.
6) Politicians in Hanoi are corrupt and hypocritical and their children rich and spoiled. The son of the 'second in command' to the President, (for want of a better description!) bought 27 BMW cars for his friends and had a race...using his father's money and prestige.
7) Our guide to Phan Thiet, Thien, is the son of a farmer, one of nine children. He has a wife and one small child, a son. His mission in life is to protect and take care of them. He is also ambitious and works extremely hard to support them. He is a University graduate, speaks very good English that is self taught. He is also teaching himself Spanish to get a better position and he speaks some Russian and Chinese. He is happy now to be paid a salary rather than working for very little on commission. He has travelled to Hong Kong and lived there as an exile for 8 years. He and his family live in a small apartment in Saigon. To get home he has to travel by bus for an hour and then walk half a mile. He left us at about 7.30 pm so would not be home until about 9.30 pm. He had to be back at the Port to accompany another group by 7 am the following morning!
8) Taxi drivers can be corrupt and it is only sensible to use recommended cabs. Those near the Port are notorious. They have no meters and will agree a price, then put it up and lock all doors so that you are literally trapped into paying. They can become very aggressive if they don't receive what they ask for and shout at their passengers. A number of students had been badly scared by their behaviour.
9) However...most Vietnamese who we met were delightful, very friendly and helpful. We met only a few who spoke good English and making oneself understood is certainly part of the fun...knowing how to mime successfully helps! It is also very difficult to understand Vietnamese English!
10) It is possible in Saigon to go to a tailor, be measured and have a suit or shirts ready for pick up in under a day. The measurements are then stored and clothes may then be ordered in the future from the US and Canada. Many women on the ship either bought stunning silk and other fabrics and/or had dresses made in a similarly short time...all the finished products that I have seen fit beautifully and are professionally finished and tailored. Very impressive!
11) Vietnamese food is delicious! It is influenced by both Chinese and Indian fare and the spices used are delicate and peppery, rarely overpowering. It is almost as good as Thai food and better than Chinese.
Lemongrass is a very popular ingredient, as are soy, tofu, sesame seed, coconut and peanuts. Desserts and fruit drinks often contain a delicious vanilla ice cream. Most are very sweet! Instant coffee is sweetened as is yoghurt.
12) Architecture is an interesting mix of Chinese, French Colonial and typically Vietnamese structures. The Opera House in Saigon is a copy of the Opera House in Paris. On our way to Phan Thiet I noticed that the residences behind the shop lined streets were ornate, tall, narrow and sometimes three or four stories high. The more modest houses, between the shop fronts, were small and square, some with beautiful and simple Art Decco designs (reminiscent of Renee McIntosh)adorning the exterior walls and window panes. Others appeared more elaborate and rather Indian...to my eyes. The streets are very French with trees running down their centres and sides, giving much needed shade.
There is a huge amount of new building going on in Saigon. The Koreans are known as good builders and are constructing expensive looking apartment complexes and offices everywhere. The skyline of the city has changed in the last 18 months with many more skyscrapers of varying heights and shapes are sprouting up. If we ever return it will no doubt have metamorphasised into a Hong Kong-like city.
13) Lastly, and surprisingly, the Vietnamese LOVE Halloween and there are the scariest masks for sale that I have ever seen!
Friday, October 28, 2011
Good morning Vietnam!
Good morning Vietnam! That was how Thien our guide greeted us when we boarded the bus for Phan Thiet. This very slim, attractive young man (36 years old but looks twenty!)was with us through the next three days as we travelled the four and a half journey by road from Saigon to Phan Thiet and our coastal resort in the village of Mui Ne.
It sounds as though the drive must be a long one in kilometres but it is only 200 kms in all. The slowness is caused by the length of time we took to get out of the city of Saigon, weaving our way through the hundreds of tightly packed motor bikes, mopeds and even the occasional brave cyclist. The 'riders' are evenly divided between the sexes and all wear helmets or the wide cone shaped hats we became used to seeing on newsreels during the Vietnam (or American as the Vietnamese prefer to call it)war. The women wear masks which hide three quarters of their faces, the eyes barely peeping above, long sleeves and looses trouses or very short skirts. Fairness is desireable among oriental women and the masks are to avoid the darkening rays of the sun and the inhalation of fumes and infections. Even very old women, walking and carrying rods across their shoulders with baskets at each end, wear these masks for protection.
Eventually after about two hours of travelling we drove into relatively rural areas with hills, Mango and Australian flame trees and gardens blooming with hibiscus, frangipani and beauganvillia and ultimately as we neared our destination Dragonfruit farms. Dragonfruit plants are like weeping cacti, all the 2 inch wide cactus type branches surrounding the thick stem and reaching for the ground. They are only two or three feet high. The flesh is white with tiny black edible seeds and has a delicate flavour which easily becomes bland if the fruit is not fresh.
It is a joyful moment to catch a sudden glimpse of the sea in the distance even though we have been sailing upon it for months! Somehow where it laps and caresses the shore it is made even more beautiful no matter what its mood. This was certainly the case when we drove into the Romana Resort and Spa in Mui Ne. Our rooms were airy and comfortable with small balconies overlooking the swimming pool and beach.
We were here for three days and two nights of supposed relaxation. However, when I heard the plans for the following day I wondered if the word relaxation had been slipped out of the itinerary. We were to drive over sand dunes in old Russian Jeeps and eat out later in a Vietnamese restaurant. The return time to the hotel was billed at 12.30 but, as we say in Scotland, 'Ah ha'ed ma dootes!' (I had my doubts!) I decided immediately to stay beside the tempting and very large swimming pool, enjoying a cooling sea breeze under a wide umbrella. I have reached the delicious age of being able to do whatever I like short of harm and suicide!
So...while George, who was leading this trip and had no choice, and 15 students went off to experience the dunes and the excellent restaurant the following day I stayed behind and relaxed. I was right in my prediction and it was 4.30 pm and not 12.30 when they returned.
I met and chatted with a delightful couple while I lay there on my comfortable chaise longue, the breeze cooling my wet body (aaah!) and reading a great book. (Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese...excellent!) Anh and Bill Wise were from the States, she Vietnamese and he, quite a few years older, from Michigan originally. They had met on a plane a year ago and been married for only a few months. She has lived in the States for three years with her daughter who owns L'il Tokyo, a Japanese restaurant in Myrtle Beach. Until she met Bill Anh had spoken little English and it still does not come easily to her. She is small, pretty and very sweet, he a gentle and friendly man...probably in his late sixties. They had been given these days at the Spa as a fiftieth birthday present for Anh from her daughter and Australian son-in-law who live in Saigon. She proudly showed me a photograph of her new, 3 week old, grandson. Anh also helped me explain what I wanted for lunch to the non-English speaking but very willing waiters who served us our food where we lay...luxury! Since marrying Anh, Bill has sold up his home of thirty years in Florida and moved to Myrtle Beach. While she was swimming he said to me 'She is a wonderful woman and her children treat me like a King! They venerate their elders in Vietnam!' He also told me that his friends had warned him that Anh was marrying him for his money, so he told them, 'Well she can have it all, I don't care because I love her!' I had no doubts at all that this was truly a love match, their attentiveness and delight in each other's company was plain for all to see. Interestingly Bill is a Vietnam veteran.
When the others returned from their 'relaxing' day they plunged straight into the pool and, although they had enjoyed their experiences, most told me that they had been envying my choice to stay behind! It is a powerful heat here in Vietnam for those unaccustomed to it...I had no occasion to regret my decision.
Our meals at the resort were fabulous: decorative and colourful and extremely tasty. The squid were amazing...not at all 'chewy' and most fragrantly flavoured. Lemongrass and sesame are both used generously. Salads were delicious and the fruit drinks loaded with banana, mango, guava and pineapple... scrumptious. I found I was craving fruit as I do whenever I am too long denied it. Melon and canned fruit just doesn't cut it for me. I probably overloaded on all that sugar but it was well worth it.
We drove through a huge storm on our way back to the ship last night. We had all had a truly relaxing morning round the pool followed by a delicious lunch before setting off for Saigon at 1 pm. We didn't reach the ship until 7.30 pm! Thunder growled and lightening, both sheet and fork, lit and cracked the skies which were dark and ominous between flashes. The drivers of motor bikes on both sides of us, attempting to get home no doubt, were covered, both rider and passenger, with huge waterproof capes. The rain was drenching and blinding them nevertheless and many stopped by the roadside. It all suddenly ceased just in time for us to climb the second deck (not the 5th thank the Lord!) gangway into our 'safe house' the Explorer! We ended our day with cheese burgers and french fries on the 7th deck...ex-SASers will appreciate that we had missed dinner!
Our guide Thien proved to be mine of information and spoke wonderful English. I shall speak more of what we lerned from him in a later blog. Our driver had to drop us off and then turn round and drive to Na Trang to pick up another group of tourists. We flew to Na Trang last year and the drive would take him TEN HOURS! That is being dangerously overworked. Life is not easy for the average Vietnamese, they work extremely hard for low wages and my impression is that major funding provided by the Government in Hanoi goes to North Vietnam whereas the south is expected to make up the loss by catering to Tourism. Everywhere we have visited Corruption in high places is spoken of as the root cause of hardship. The people in the South however have not lost their capacity for friendship and generosity and they have made us feel most welcome.
It sounds as though the drive must be a long one in kilometres but it is only 200 kms in all. The slowness is caused by the length of time we took to get out of the city of Saigon, weaving our way through the hundreds of tightly packed motor bikes, mopeds and even the occasional brave cyclist. The 'riders' are evenly divided between the sexes and all wear helmets or the wide cone shaped hats we became used to seeing on newsreels during the Vietnam (or American as the Vietnamese prefer to call it)war. The women wear masks which hide three quarters of their faces, the eyes barely peeping above, long sleeves and looses trouses or very short skirts. Fairness is desireable among oriental women and the masks are to avoid the darkening rays of the sun and the inhalation of fumes and infections. Even very old women, walking and carrying rods across their shoulders with baskets at each end, wear these masks for protection.
Eventually after about two hours of travelling we drove into relatively rural areas with hills, Mango and Australian flame trees and gardens blooming with hibiscus, frangipani and beauganvillia and ultimately as we neared our destination Dragonfruit farms. Dragonfruit plants are like weeping cacti, all the 2 inch wide cactus type branches surrounding the thick stem and reaching for the ground. They are only two or three feet high. The flesh is white with tiny black edible seeds and has a delicate flavour which easily becomes bland if the fruit is not fresh.
It is a joyful moment to catch a sudden glimpse of the sea in the distance even though we have been sailing upon it for months! Somehow where it laps and caresses the shore it is made even more beautiful no matter what its mood. This was certainly the case when we drove into the Romana Resort and Spa in Mui Ne. Our rooms were airy and comfortable with small balconies overlooking the swimming pool and beach.
We were here for three days and two nights of supposed relaxation. However, when I heard the plans for the following day I wondered if the word relaxation had been slipped out of the itinerary. We were to drive over sand dunes in old Russian Jeeps and eat out later in a Vietnamese restaurant. The return time to the hotel was billed at 12.30 but, as we say in Scotland, 'Ah ha'ed ma dootes!' (I had my doubts!) I decided immediately to stay beside the tempting and very large swimming pool, enjoying a cooling sea breeze under a wide umbrella. I have reached the delicious age of being able to do whatever I like short of harm and suicide!
So...while George, who was leading this trip and had no choice, and 15 students went off to experience the dunes and the excellent restaurant the following day I stayed behind and relaxed. I was right in my prediction and it was 4.30 pm and not 12.30 when they returned.
I met and chatted with a delightful couple while I lay there on my comfortable chaise longue, the breeze cooling my wet body (aaah!) and reading a great book. (Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese...excellent!) Anh and Bill Wise were from the States, she Vietnamese and he, quite a few years older, from Michigan originally. They had met on a plane a year ago and been married for only a few months. She has lived in the States for three years with her daughter who owns L'il Tokyo, a Japanese restaurant in Myrtle Beach. Until she met Bill Anh had spoken little English and it still does not come easily to her. She is small, pretty and very sweet, he a gentle and friendly man...probably in his late sixties. They had been given these days at the Spa as a fiftieth birthday present for Anh from her daughter and Australian son-in-law who live in Saigon. She proudly showed me a photograph of her new, 3 week old, grandson. Anh also helped me explain what I wanted for lunch to the non-English speaking but very willing waiters who served us our food where we lay...luxury! Since marrying Anh, Bill has sold up his home of thirty years in Florida and moved to Myrtle Beach. While she was swimming he said to me 'She is a wonderful woman and her children treat me like a King! They venerate their elders in Vietnam!' He also told me that his friends had warned him that Anh was marrying him for his money, so he told them, 'Well she can have it all, I don't care because I love her!' I had no doubts at all that this was truly a love match, their attentiveness and delight in each other's company was plain for all to see. Interestingly Bill is a Vietnam veteran.
When the others returned from their 'relaxing' day they plunged straight into the pool and, although they had enjoyed their experiences, most told me that they had been envying my choice to stay behind! It is a powerful heat here in Vietnam for those unaccustomed to it...I had no occasion to regret my decision.
Our meals at the resort were fabulous: decorative and colourful and extremely tasty. The squid were amazing...not at all 'chewy' and most fragrantly flavoured. Lemongrass and sesame are both used generously. Salads were delicious and the fruit drinks loaded with banana, mango, guava and pineapple... scrumptious. I found I was craving fruit as I do whenever I am too long denied it. Melon and canned fruit just doesn't cut it for me. I probably overloaded on all that sugar but it was well worth it.
We drove through a huge storm on our way back to the ship last night. We had all had a truly relaxing morning round the pool followed by a delicious lunch before setting off for Saigon at 1 pm. We didn't reach the ship until 7.30 pm! Thunder growled and lightening, both sheet and fork, lit and cracked the skies which were dark and ominous between flashes. The drivers of motor bikes on both sides of us, attempting to get home no doubt, were covered, both rider and passenger, with huge waterproof capes. The rain was drenching and blinding them nevertheless and many stopped by the roadside. It all suddenly ceased just in time for us to climb the second deck (not the 5th thank the Lord!) gangway into our 'safe house' the Explorer! We ended our day with cheese burgers and french fries on the 7th deck...ex-SASers will appreciate that we had missed dinner!
Our guide Thien proved to be mine of information and spoke wonderful English. I shall speak more of what we lerned from him in a later blog. Our driver had to drop us off and then turn round and drive to Na Trang to pick up another group of tourists. We flew to Na Trang last year and the drive would take him TEN HOURS! That is being dangerously overworked. Life is not easy for the average Vietnamese, they work extremely hard for low wages and my impression is that major funding provided by the Government in Hanoi goes to North Vietnam whereas the south is expected to make up the loss by catering to Tourism. Everywhere we have visited Corruption in high places is spoken of as the root cause of hardship. The people in the South however have not lost their capacity for friendship and generosity and they have made us feel most welcome.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Penang....Pearl of the Orient
Penang has been called the Pearl of the Orient and it is a title well and truly deserved. From the densely forested hills to the quaint Malay villages, from little India in George Town to the glorious beaches and Cuasarina trees of the coast, the fishing villages and unspoiled islands nearby it is a travellers' paradise.
Life on board ship can be exhilarating of course but living in each other's pockets and the repetitive rhythm of life on a teaching vessel can also be stifling. We all needed a break I think...I certainly did.
George had to lead an FDP (student practica)in the morning. It was called Ethnic Communities. We set off just after 10.30 am in an air conditioned bus with an excellent Malay-Chinese Guide called Elizabeth....no difficult name to pronounce here. She spoke absolutely accentless English was charming and very large. When I later spoke to Elizabeth about herself she said in response to a question, "No I am not narried. Why should I marry? I love my job and my life, I live in a loving family yet feel very much my own woman. I don't need a man." We drove first through George Town and I was amazed to see how much it had grown in the last quarter century...although really why should I be, it's a long time since I was there! There are old and beautiful colonial buildings huddled under tall skyscrapers, ancient houses blackened with damp fungus and low colourful stores hiding down lanes and around corners. There is a heady mixture of old and new, East and West, Colonial and traditional....and among it all are huge trees with hanging vines and enormous trunks that must have stood there for who knows how long.
The roads are such a change after India. They are well marked and sign posted, the cars keep within the prescribed lanes and obey the traffic lights and one occasionally hears a horn. After India what a treat are these signs of order and sanity. There is less colour and noise and chaos, there are fewer spicey smells pervading the air but we were more than ready for this comparitive calm!
We visited a traditional Malay village, a fishing port and a batik factory with a tempting shop attached. I tried on two attractive tops one being quite a bit cheaper than the other. So, feeling very sensible (and as it was quite beautiful and classy) I chose the cheaper one. George bought himself a batik shirt, took both to the cashier and paid for them. When I joined him outside a few minutes later he said "You do realise that we have just spent US$100.00!" I was taken aback at the price of his shirt...'Well mine wasn't expensive ' I said smugly 'how much was your shirt?' 'twenty four dollars' he replied. Oops. On the bus I took out my 'cheap' top only to discover that the price on it did not match the sign above the rack which I was sure I had seen. It was pure silk and had cost almost $80.00! Too late...the bus was on its way so all I could do was apologise profusely...and pat myself silently on the back for my excellent taste!
We were getting hungry and it was well after 2 pm when we headed for the immediate chaos of Little India streets...in fact they were far too narrow for the bus so we once again walked through the wonderful muddle that seems to be India. We came to an Indian restaurant and were herded up the stairs to a dining room with one very long table. There must have been at least eight waiters who descended upon us, took our orders and then gave everyone the wrong thing. No matter we sorted ourselves out and started to eat. Mine was sooo hot and spicy that ultimately I could only manage to swallow the rice...and I am a curry lover! Luckily there were lots of interesting 'bits' in it so I enjoyed the meal..others were not so fortunate and were gulping down water...which doesn't help a bit, beer is better..but we asked for cucumber and yoghurt and that helped a few students get the food down!
When we finally descended the stairs to leave we discovered Elizabeth standing with an umbrella at the entrance saying 'We have to stay we cannot venture out in this' and she was right. It was pouring down in buckets....beautiful for all tropical rain lovers of whom I am one. So we seated ourselves in the lower portion of the restaurant and gazed longingly at the front counter where bowls of wonderful looking stews and colourful side dishes were laid our under glass...we would have much preferred to choose what we could see on the lower level.
After about twenty minutes or so the rain eased off and we ran down the streets until we met the bus on the main road. We had lost time by then so had to head straight back to the ship. Those of you who know me well will understand what happened next.
George left the bus to check the students and see them back on board, I hauled our back packs out of the overhead compartments and heaved them to the front of the bus and down the stairs on to the docks. Steve Malloy who was coming with us to the hotel at Batu Ferringhi and had been on the trip went to the ship to fetch his wife while I said goodbye and thank you to Elizabeth....and the bus drove off. George reappeared and as I was putting our stuff on to a trolley to wheel out of the port he looked at it and asked "You did bring the bag with the things we bought did you?" My heart sank...'Oh my God...you didn't?!' Oh yes...I had left the plastic bag containing his shirt and my $80.00 top on the bus! I grovelled in abject apology yet again and he flew back on to the ship, reported it to the agents who were on board and, to cut a long story short, the missing bag was delivered to the ship and given to us when we returned tonight. Mea culpa! Mea culpa!
Months ago I had looked for a hotel similar to the one I stayed at when I travelled alone many years ago to Malaysia, Thailand and Singapore but Penang has grown beyong recognition immediately round George Town and hotels abound on Batu Ferringhi where I had been. Fortunately I mentioned this to a friend who had visited The Lone Pine Hotel and recommended it. What a total delight this place proved to be and after being taken round the old part, and seeing the beach in front of the old rooms and their white verandas I realised it was where I had stayed before!
However the Lone Pine has been renovated and opened again in November of last year. Our friends Brenda and Steve Malloy had asked what we were doing and whether we'd mind if they joined us, which we didn't, so they came with us.
The rains have come to Penang, wonderful, heavy, tropical rains. You can see the dark clouds approaching in the early afternoon and a cooling breeze gathers strength just before the downpour. But the mornings are heavenly with lots of sunshine. We had breakfast in the Bungalow dining room which remains from the old hotel. There is a colourful buffet with delicious fruits, yoghurts, croissants and other baked goodies in addition to western eggs personally cooked and exotic things like "Chicken porridge" (?!) and traditional porridge which resembles a rather watery cream of wheat...it didn't tempt me! There was much much more all laid out in the open dining room where we looked out on to the two swimming pools and the sea through the Cuasarina trees.
Our rooms were in the new building and were luxuriously furnished and very comfortable. Our balcony had the same view over the pools and out to sea. One of the things I enjoyed most was the enormous shower head which sprayed out comforting hot water in a very wide, high pressured waterfall. Fantastic...I could have stayed in there for hours!
We spent our mornings at the pool side under large umbrellas on comfortable chaises longues. We swam in the pool and then wandered on to the beach and enjoyed the ocean which was warmer and then back to the refreshing pool again! We ordered drinks like Singapore Slings and Mojitos and ate interesting lunches there on narrow rectangular white plates....their spring rolls were to die for! Because of the rain we had our evening meal in the hotel too although we had planned to walk further afield.
I cannot tell you the utter joy of waking up in the morning and knowing that the day stretched ahead, on terra firma, with no classes or meetings (and no students!), just to do with whatever we pleased. I enjoyed it all so much that returning to the ship today was quite difficult. Going back into the Glazer lounge for 5 pm drinks and socialising appealed only to George. I stayed in our cabin attempting to get myself psyched up for the onslaught!
I had a sad but huge laugh when I heard the story of our friends Alfred and Terry Hunt. They had planned a visit to the Cameron Highlands on the mainland and Terry had looked up the buses (vans) and all was to be quite straightforward. However when they reached the bus station at the stated time they found few English speakers and again to cut a long story short took the wrong van and ended up in Thailand! They realised how terribly wrong it had all gone when a taxi driver came up to them as they stepped out of the van and offered "Bangkok?' They had no Thai money on them (only Malaysian) and ended upin a pretty awful hotel for the night. They decided to come straight back to Penang the next morning in case there was any trouble at the border getting back. This is their third voyage like ourselves and they are well travelled but because they misunderstood the name of the city they went to (which they have blocked out of their memories!)when asking if it was the correct bus (it sounded like Cameron they said)their adventure came to naught in the sense that they didn't get to their desired destination. However any of you reading this who know Alfred (Jeannie and Brenda) will know that he is already living on the story and will do for years to come I have no doubt!
Life on board ship can be exhilarating of course but living in each other's pockets and the repetitive rhythm of life on a teaching vessel can also be stifling. We all needed a break I think...I certainly did.
George had to lead an FDP (student practica)in the morning. It was called Ethnic Communities. We set off just after 10.30 am in an air conditioned bus with an excellent Malay-Chinese Guide called Elizabeth....no difficult name to pronounce here. She spoke absolutely accentless English was charming and very large. When I later spoke to Elizabeth about herself she said in response to a question, "No I am not narried. Why should I marry? I love my job and my life, I live in a loving family yet feel very much my own woman. I don't need a man." We drove first through George Town and I was amazed to see how much it had grown in the last quarter century...although really why should I be, it's a long time since I was there! There are old and beautiful colonial buildings huddled under tall skyscrapers, ancient houses blackened with damp fungus and low colourful stores hiding down lanes and around corners. There is a heady mixture of old and new, East and West, Colonial and traditional....and among it all are huge trees with hanging vines and enormous trunks that must have stood there for who knows how long.
The roads are such a change after India. They are well marked and sign posted, the cars keep within the prescribed lanes and obey the traffic lights and one occasionally hears a horn. After India what a treat are these signs of order and sanity. There is less colour and noise and chaos, there are fewer spicey smells pervading the air but we were more than ready for this comparitive calm!
We visited a traditional Malay village, a fishing port and a batik factory with a tempting shop attached. I tried on two attractive tops one being quite a bit cheaper than the other. So, feeling very sensible (and as it was quite beautiful and classy) I chose the cheaper one. George bought himself a batik shirt, took both to the cashier and paid for them. When I joined him outside a few minutes later he said "You do realise that we have just spent US$100.00!" I was taken aback at the price of his shirt...'Well mine wasn't expensive ' I said smugly 'how much was your shirt?' 'twenty four dollars' he replied. Oops. On the bus I took out my 'cheap' top only to discover that the price on it did not match the sign above the rack which I was sure I had seen. It was pure silk and had cost almost $80.00! Too late...the bus was on its way so all I could do was apologise profusely...and pat myself silently on the back for my excellent taste!
We were getting hungry and it was well after 2 pm when we headed for the immediate chaos of Little India streets...in fact they were far too narrow for the bus so we once again walked through the wonderful muddle that seems to be India. We came to an Indian restaurant and were herded up the stairs to a dining room with one very long table. There must have been at least eight waiters who descended upon us, took our orders and then gave everyone the wrong thing. No matter we sorted ourselves out and started to eat. Mine was sooo hot and spicy that ultimately I could only manage to swallow the rice...and I am a curry lover! Luckily there were lots of interesting 'bits' in it so I enjoyed the meal..others were not so fortunate and were gulping down water...which doesn't help a bit, beer is better..but we asked for cucumber and yoghurt and that helped a few students get the food down!
When we finally descended the stairs to leave we discovered Elizabeth standing with an umbrella at the entrance saying 'We have to stay we cannot venture out in this' and she was right. It was pouring down in buckets....beautiful for all tropical rain lovers of whom I am one. So we seated ourselves in the lower portion of the restaurant and gazed longingly at the front counter where bowls of wonderful looking stews and colourful side dishes were laid our under glass...we would have much preferred to choose what we could see on the lower level.
After about twenty minutes or so the rain eased off and we ran down the streets until we met the bus on the main road. We had lost time by then so had to head straight back to the ship. Those of you who know me well will understand what happened next.
George left the bus to check the students and see them back on board, I hauled our back packs out of the overhead compartments and heaved them to the front of the bus and down the stairs on to the docks. Steve Malloy who was coming with us to the hotel at Batu Ferringhi and had been on the trip went to the ship to fetch his wife while I said goodbye and thank you to Elizabeth....and the bus drove off. George reappeared and as I was putting our stuff on to a trolley to wheel out of the port he looked at it and asked "You did bring the bag with the things we bought did you?" My heart sank...'Oh my God...you didn't?!' Oh yes...I had left the plastic bag containing his shirt and my $80.00 top on the bus! I grovelled in abject apology yet again and he flew back on to the ship, reported it to the agents who were on board and, to cut a long story short, the missing bag was delivered to the ship and given to us when we returned tonight. Mea culpa! Mea culpa!
Months ago I had looked for a hotel similar to the one I stayed at when I travelled alone many years ago to Malaysia, Thailand and Singapore but Penang has grown beyong recognition immediately round George Town and hotels abound on Batu Ferringhi where I had been. Fortunately I mentioned this to a friend who had visited The Lone Pine Hotel and recommended it. What a total delight this place proved to be and after being taken round the old part, and seeing the beach in front of the old rooms and their white verandas I realised it was where I had stayed before!
However the Lone Pine has been renovated and opened again in November of last year. Our friends Brenda and Steve Malloy had asked what we were doing and whether we'd mind if they joined us, which we didn't, so they came with us.
The rains have come to Penang, wonderful, heavy, tropical rains. You can see the dark clouds approaching in the early afternoon and a cooling breeze gathers strength just before the downpour. But the mornings are heavenly with lots of sunshine. We had breakfast in the Bungalow dining room which remains from the old hotel. There is a colourful buffet with delicious fruits, yoghurts, croissants and other baked goodies in addition to western eggs personally cooked and exotic things like "Chicken porridge" (?!) and traditional porridge which resembles a rather watery cream of wheat...it didn't tempt me! There was much much more all laid out in the open dining room where we looked out on to the two swimming pools and the sea through the Cuasarina trees.
Our rooms were in the new building and were luxuriously furnished and very comfortable. Our balcony had the same view over the pools and out to sea. One of the things I enjoyed most was the enormous shower head which sprayed out comforting hot water in a very wide, high pressured waterfall. Fantastic...I could have stayed in there for hours!
We spent our mornings at the pool side under large umbrellas on comfortable chaises longues. We swam in the pool and then wandered on to the beach and enjoyed the ocean which was warmer and then back to the refreshing pool again! We ordered drinks like Singapore Slings and Mojitos and ate interesting lunches there on narrow rectangular white plates....their spring rolls were to die for! Because of the rain we had our evening meal in the hotel too although we had planned to walk further afield.
I cannot tell you the utter joy of waking up in the morning and knowing that the day stretched ahead, on terra firma, with no classes or meetings (and no students!), just to do with whatever we pleased. I enjoyed it all so much that returning to the ship today was quite difficult. Going back into the Glazer lounge for 5 pm drinks and socialising appealed only to George. I stayed in our cabin attempting to get myself psyched up for the onslaught!
I had a sad but huge laugh when I heard the story of our friends Alfred and Terry Hunt. They had planned a visit to the Cameron Highlands on the mainland and Terry had looked up the buses (vans) and all was to be quite straightforward. However when they reached the bus station at the stated time they found few English speakers and again to cut a long story short took the wrong van and ended up in Thailand! They realised how terribly wrong it had all gone when a taxi driver came up to them as they stepped out of the van and offered "Bangkok?' They had no Thai money on them (only Malaysian) and ended upin a pretty awful hotel for the night. They decided to come straight back to Penang the next morning in case there was any trouble at the border getting back. This is their third voyage like ourselves and they are well travelled but because they misunderstood the name of the city they went to (which they have blocked out of their memories!)when asking if it was the correct bus (it sounded like Cameron they said)their adventure came to naught in the sense that they didn't get to their desired destination. However any of you reading this who know Alfred (Jeannie and Brenda) will know that he is already living on the story and will do for years to come I have no doubt!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
India and Sri Lanka under a full moon
Tonight we leave India. Today I have decided to stay on the ship although we don't sail until 8 pm tonight. It seems a travesty to say I am India'd out but that's what it feels like and it is their customs and immigration procedures that have done it.
Going back to our first day. Jeannie and I took a toc-toc (three wheeler) from the port gate into Chennai. It was exhilarating: here we were two "children of the Empire"(!) as we call ourselves, whizzing along the Chennai roads in this tiny, vulnerable but aggresssive little vehicle. The hot wind was blowing through our hair, the colours and noise on all sides and we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Our driver, Naveam, was intelligent and knowledgeable and we had a delightful morning shopping, followed by a truly Indian lunch of Tikka Masala with Naan in a truly Indian restaurant where no English was spoken and the patrons' languages were Tamil or Simhalese. Naveam ate with us and the food was delicious. After lunch we went back to the ship. Naveam was to arrange an air conditioned car to take us to the airport for our flight to Colombo the next morning. George's FDP had been successful so we had a happy evening on board with friends, all of us leaving in different directions the next morning.
True to his word Naveam produced an old air conditioned car driven by his 'brother' (India is know for its wildly extended families!) at the port gate. The drive to the airport was a long one right through the middle of the city, the traffic appalling, but we were getting used to it and there were only comparitively few gasps and 'oh my God!'s as we narrowly excaped death en route. Our driver did in fact knock a cyclist off his bike and we saw our Sri Lankan holiday bite the dust, however a watching policeman appeared and berated the cyclist and we went on our merry way...wondering?!
An hour and a bit later we were enjoying the comfort of a beautiful, air conditioned International airport with all mod cons except for the squatter toilets...you might imagine Westerners would be catered for in such a place...but no. Never mind. We had been greeted on entry by Kingfisher (airline) reps and taken care of from the word go. By the way I highly recommend this airline should you ever have to fly in this part of the world. The food on even an hour's flight is fantastic, the air crew helpful and friendly and there is a feeling of comfort and security at all times. We got hooked last year flying from Chennai to Kochi.
We had a delicious Indian lunch served and no sooner had been cleared by the staff of at least four, than we had landed and were soon on Sri Lankan soil. We were met by Dulip, the driver whom Janneke had arranged to drive us on the 4 hour journey to Galle in the South of the country. He was holding up a piece of cardboard with "Maggie & George" written on it.
The drive for the first hour or so was still through the streets of Colombo...it is a HUGE city, much more organised than an Indian one and it seemed minimally fewer people swarmed the streets, the colour and noise though were at the same level of decibels! About two hours into the drive we saw the palm studded coastline ahead and were happy to once again see the ocean, frothy white waves crashing on to massive boulder like rocks. The sky turned grey and deep pink in the gathering sunset.
The car was air conditioned and comfortable, a new one which Dulip had bought to build his chauffeuring business for tourists. Christmas promised to be busy he told us happily. His daughter had trained in Abberdeen, Scotland and now runs a Montessori pre-school in Galle. His son lives in London and doesn't seem yet to want to return to Sri Lanka.
We passed crowds of people on the roadsides strolling and crowding in to Budhist temples. The women and girls wearing white...it was the festival of the full moon which we gathered happens every month. The frangipani trees and bushes were in full flower which I love to see. This coastal road was packed with interest and activity and I thought as I have so often before on this voyage how removed we are in the West from a feeling of true community. I think our little home town of Dundas has found a sense of it in the celebrations which happen every year...the Cactus festival and Buskerfest. Our own King street is then filled with noisy (not at the Indian level I must confess!), happy crowds enjoying the dusk. The full moon rose in the sky and reflected on a shimmering sea.
We drove the last miles of our journey in moonlit darkness. We arrived at the Tattersall's lovely home after driving up a narrow hill in Galle and doing a sharp bend through a high gate and up a gravel driveway. It was dark by now and it was great to be there at last. After a warm welcome from each of the Tattersall family, especially 8 year old Findlay who is a charming, self possessed young man, we sat down to a delicious dinner. We were pretty exhausted and were happy to discover that Jeff and Janneke favour early nights!
Jeannie and I shared their beautiful, large, airy guest room on the far side of the open air dining room (open on two sides) and the huge bed, over king size I think, under a white mosquito net, looked inviting. George slept in the main house and we all slept well. Jeannie and I awoke about 7 am and lay talking about our lives over the years...we decided we had been almost too busy to do so on board the Explorer! We found Jeff, Janneke and George reading and drinking coffee on the stoep which we could now see overlooked a lovely garden with flowering tropical bushes and trees..and Findlay's soccer ball on the lawn!
We enjoyed breakfast prepared by Jeff in the dining room. It was great to eat a tropical fruit salad which we had been missing on the ship where we are given an unending diet of melon and canned fruit. Later we too sat reading on the shady stoep whilst Jeff and Janneke caught up on their work.
We picked Findlay up from school at 2 pm George, Jeannie and I travelling with Janneke in her car, (which she drives with enormous confidence in the narrow, crowded streets), before going to the Amman Hotel in the Galle Fort for lunch. The school is quite beautiful, on top of a rise, an attractive white house of very Sri Lankan architecture with thatch roofed open air classrooms behind and below, in one of which Findlay was finishing a Taekwondoe class...memories of Liam and Bryn my grandsons doing the same. As soon as he was ready Findlay put on his helmet and joined his father on his motor bike, riding in front of him. Not a sight we see often in North America!
We had a wonderful lunch sitting on the veranda of the Amman Hotel in the Fort. Although it was hot and humid there was a lovely breeze in the shade. We were served "curry and rice" with side dishes served on the same plate....delicious but daunting on a hot afternoon. The stewards wore smart white brass-buttoned suits and would have looked at home in the Savoy in London!
Replete, we wandered around the surrounding streets, going into two old churches, Dutch and Anglican. The cemetry head stones bore sad tales of the deaths of infants and young mothers in the 18th century and some dungeons below the Anglican church told stories of prisoner escapes.
Across the road from the hotel were lawns stretching up to protective sea walls, many feet wide which Findlay and George walked along. In Janneke's car we met them further on and Jeff followed on his motor bike. Jeannie and I looked out to sea, relishing the fact that we were standing on terra firma this time, a sea shore studded with curved palm trees, bending away from the winds which had battered them over the years. I was strongly reminded of Zanzibar where at Nazi Moja (one palm tree in Swahili), my childhood playground, only one palm tree had remained standing after powerful gale force winds of a previous century.
The coast around the town of Galle, which is the third largest city of Sri Lanka (after Colombo and Kandy) is beautiful. The boulder-like rocks which I mentioned earlier seem to be a common feature and when the following day we were taken to the Tattersalls' favourite beach, it is recognisable by a smooth, pointed top rock which juts towards the sea on one side of the curved palm fringed sands. On that occasion after picking Findlay up from school we sat on the deck of a weather washed hotel which they frequent, and ate fish and chips and calamari. Findlay went swimming in a fairly rough sea with a strong current and swung happily Tarzan like from a long creeper like jungle rope over the water's edge. I thought then what an idyllic place for any child to grow up and decided it explains my attachment to Zanzibar where as children we spent our lives outside, coming in only to eat and sleep.
It was wonderful for me to be with family in Galle and to see Marjorie's grandson growing into a strong, independent, articulate and confident human being. She would have been so proud. While there I spoke on Skype to Jeff's brother Ian who lives in Bali. He met us in Bangkok on our first SAS voyage in 2009. I had never used Skype before but thought it would be fun to try it from some of the ports we visit so that I could talk to and see my daughters and their families. Unfortunately it cannot be accessed from the ship while we are at sea.
On our last night in Galle Janneke cooked a marvellous meal of roast, organic chicken-s (two-they are very small) and vegetables. It was the most delicious chicken I had tasted for many years and one realises how bland is the chicken we buy in the supermarkets at home. We knew we had to be up very early (3 am) to drive to Colombo for Jeannie to catch her 10 am Emirate's flight back to Nairobi so we all turned in at about 8.30 pm. George first read a bed time story to Findlay after climbing the fairly long ladder to his high bunk bed!
How sad are goodbyes when one is uncertain when one will see friends again. This was true of Jeff, Janneke and Findlay and also Jeannie. We simply had to appreciate what a wonderful opportunity this trip has been to connect with them at all. We now know beyond doubt that the future holds treasures we cannot imagine...unexpected and very precious.
After a fast drive of only three and a half hours into Colombo, we dropped Jeannie off at the International Airport and following a suggestion from Janneke, went to a beach hotel in the coastal town of Nagombo, about a 25 minute drive from the airport. We bade Dulip farewell and went into a refreshing buffet breakfast at the Camelot hotel. We sat under an umbrella in the shade and with a sea breeze beside the swimming pool and again looked out to sea where we had sailed only a few days before on our way to India.
George lost our paper e-tickets for the flight back to Chennai! So we rushed to an internet cafe where I found them in a file on my hotmail. I was just about to print them but at that precise second there was a power cut! Ah well...we jumped into our taxi and made for the airport where they barely registered this disturbing fact and simply looked us up on their own computers and handed us our boarding cards. I have to confess to a melt-down when George first announced the loss! I had memories of our previous visit to Chennai when he had come to the airport, on our way to Kochi, and similarly announced that he not brought the money I had promised to hand to the travel agent on our arrival in Kerala. Again that was not a problem and they happily agreed to wait until we could visit an ATM in Kochi.
We had a smooth and comfortable flight apart from a man who sat just behind us and shouted the whole way in friendly fashion to his friend across the aisle! We were served another wonderful Indian meal although the flight took even less than an hour. I could not imagine any airline in North America doing the same thing.
In Chennai airport we stood in the 'foreigners' queue to go through Customs. We reached a very pleasant man who said we simply had to fill in another form (we had completed one each on the plane) so would we please go to Immigration and he pointed to a door a few yards away. We walked over and as we entered a woman in a bright green sari shouted at me 'You, woman, sit over there!' pointing at a bench. Before I could move she added 'What do you want?' and then nodded to herself and threw two forms at us 'Fill them in' she said. So we did. In the meantime she was shouting in very broken English at a bemused Chinese woman who simply stood, looking at her in shock, still as a statue. Eventually she walked out and we handed in our forms.
Then the trouble began. The immigration woman stared at our passports turning the pages of each one maddeningly slowly, muttering who-knew-what to herself and then she looked at me and said 'You must go to (some street with a mile long name) in Chennai to register!' she repeated this several times getting louder each time. We attempted to explain that it was unecessary for us to register as we had a double entry visa and were 'leaving India tomorrow'. She shuffled the forms around looking helplessly at a man at another desk who was grunting on the phone as he typed on his computer whatever he was being told at the other end. This went on for some time until he suddenly turned round, took our forms off her desk and said 'Go!' Frightened he might change his mind we left immediately rushing to find my back pack on the carousel (it was lying there in lonely splendour) and were relieved to discover that the driver we had arranged was still waiting for us although we were so late.
About an hour and a half later after a hair raising drive through Chennai to the port and going through two more Customs points, one at which women were 'frisked', we were on board the Explorer and in our cabin....home!
Going back to our first day. Jeannie and I took a toc-toc (three wheeler) from the port gate into Chennai. It was exhilarating: here we were two "children of the Empire"(!) as we call ourselves, whizzing along the Chennai roads in this tiny, vulnerable but aggresssive little vehicle. The hot wind was blowing through our hair, the colours and noise on all sides and we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Our driver, Naveam, was intelligent and knowledgeable and we had a delightful morning shopping, followed by a truly Indian lunch of Tikka Masala with Naan in a truly Indian restaurant where no English was spoken and the patrons' languages were Tamil or Simhalese. Naveam ate with us and the food was delicious. After lunch we went back to the ship. Naveam was to arrange an air conditioned car to take us to the airport for our flight to Colombo the next morning. George's FDP had been successful so we had a happy evening on board with friends, all of us leaving in different directions the next morning.
True to his word Naveam produced an old air conditioned car driven by his 'brother' (India is know for its wildly extended families!) at the port gate. The drive to the airport was a long one right through the middle of the city, the traffic appalling, but we were getting used to it and there were only comparitively few gasps and 'oh my God!'s as we narrowly excaped death en route. Our driver did in fact knock a cyclist off his bike and we saw our Sri Lankan holiday bite the dust, however a watching policeman appeared and berated the cyclist and we went on our merry way...wondering?!
An hour and a bit later we were enjoying the comfort of a beautiful, air conditioned International airport with all mod cons except for the squatter toilets...you might imagine Westerners would be catered for in such a place...but no. Never mind. We had been greeted on entry by Kingfisher (airline) reps and taken care of from the word go. By the way I highly recommend this airline should you ever have to fly in this part of the world. The food on even an hour's flight is fantastic, the air crew helpful and friendly and there is a feeling of comfort and security at all times. We got hooked last year flying from Chennai to Kochi.
We had a delicious Indian lunch served and no sooner had been cleared by the staff of at least four, than we had landed and were soon on Sri Lankan soil. We were met by Dulip, the driver whom Janneke had arranged to drive us on the 4 hour journey to Galle in the South of the country. He was holding up a piece of cardboard with "Maggie & George" written on it.
The drive for the first hour or so was still through the streets of Colombo...it is a HUGE city, much more organised than an Indian one and it seemed minimally fewer people swarmed the streets, the colour and noise though were at the same level of decibels! About two hours into the drive we saw the palm studded coastline ahead and were happy to once again see the ocean, frothy white waves crashing on to massive boulder like rocks. The sky turned grey and deep pink in the gathering sunset.
The car was air conditioned and comfortable, a new one which Dulip had bought to build his chauffeuring business for tourists. Christmas promised to be busy he told us happily. His daughter had trained in Abberdeen, Scotland and now runs a Montessori pre-school in Galle. His son lives in London and doesn't seem yet to want to return to Sri Lanka.
We passed crowds of people on the roadsides strolling and crowding in to Budhist temples. The women and girls wearing white...it was the festival of the full moon which we gathered happens every month. The frangipani trees and bushes were in full flower which I love to see. This coastal road was packed with interest and activity and I thought as I have so often before on this voyage how removed we are in the West from a feeling of true community. I think our little home town of Dundas has found a sense of it in the celebrations which happen every year...the Cactus festival and Buskerfest. Our own King street is then filled with noisy (not at the Indian level I must confess!), happy crowds enjoying the dusk. The full moon rose in the sky and reflected on a shimmering sea.
We drove the last miles of our journey in moonlit darkness. We arrived at the Tattersall's lovely home after driving up a narrow hill in Galle and doing a sharp bend through a high gate and up a gravel driveway. It was dark by now and it was great to be there at last. After a warm welcome from each of the Tattersall family, especially 8 year old Findlay who is a charming, self possessed young man, we sat down to a delicious dinner. We were pretty exhausted and were happy to discover that Jeff and Janneke favour early nights!
Jeannie and I shared their beautiful, large, airy guest room on the far side of the open air dining room (open on two sides) and the huge bed, over king size I think, under a white mosquito net, looked inviting. George slept in the main house and we all slept well. Jeannie and I awoke about 7 am and lay talking about our lives over the years...we decided we had been almost too busy to do so on board the Explorer! We found Jeff, Janneke and George reading and drinking coffee on the stoep which we could now see overlooked a lovely garden with flowering tropical bushes and trees..and Findlay's soccer ball on the lawn!
We enjoyed breakfast prepared by Jeff in the dining room. It was great to eat a tropical fruit salad which we had been missing on the ship where we are given an unending diet of melon and canned fruit. Later we too sat reading on the shady stoep whilst Jeff and Janneke caught up on their work.
We picked Findlay up from school at 2 pm George, Jeannie and I travelling with Janneke in her car, (which she drives with enormous confidence in the narrow, crowded streets), before going to the Amman Hotel in the Galle Fort for lunch. The school is quite beautiful, on top of a rise, an attractive white house of very Sri Lankan architecture with thatch roofed open air classrooms behind and below, in one of which Findlay was finishing a Taekwondoe class...memories of Liam and Bryn my grandsons doing the same. As soon as he was ready Findlay put on his helmet and joined his father on his motor bike, riding in front of him. Not a sight we see often in North America!
We had a wonderful lunch sitting on the veranda of the Amman Hotel in the Fort. Although it was hot and humid there was a lovely breeze in the shade. We were served "curry and rice" with side dishes served on the same plate....delicious but daunting on a hot afternoon. The stewards wore smart white brass-buttoned suits and would have looked at home in the Savoy in London!
Replete, we wandered around the surrounding streets, going into two old churches, Dutch and Anglican. The cemetry head stones bore sad tales of the deaths of infants and young mothers in the 18th century and some dungeons below the Anglican church told stories of prisoner escapes.
Across the road from the hotel were lawns stretching up to protective sea walls, many feet wide which Findlay and George walked along. In Janneke's car we met them further on and Jeff followed on his motor bike. Jeannie and I looked out to sea, relishing the fact that we were standing on terra firma this time, a sea shore studded with curved palm trees, bending away from the winds which had battered them over the years. I was strongly reminded of Zanzibar where at Nazi Moja (one palm tree in Swahili), my childhood playground, only one palm tree had remained standing after powerful gale force winds of a previous century.
The coast around the town of Galle, which is the third largest city of Sri Lanka (after Colombo and Kandy) is beautiful. The boulder-like rocks which I mentioned earlier seem to be a common feature and when the following day we were taken to the Tattersalls' favourite beach, it is recognisable by a smooth, pointed top rock which juts towards the sea on one side of the curved palm fringed sands. On that occasion after picking Findlay up from school we sat on the deck of a weather washed hotel which they frequent, and ate fish and chips and calamari. Findlay went swimming in a fairly rough sea with a strong current and swung happily Tarzan like from a long creeper like jungle rope over the water's edge. I thought then what an idyllic place for any child to grow up and decided it explains my attachment to Zanzibar where as children we spent our lives outside, coming in only to eat and sleep.
It was wonderful for me to be with family in Galle and to see Marjorie's grandson growing into a strong, independent, articulate and confident human being. She would have been so proud. While there I spoke on Skype to Jeff's brother Ian who lives in Bali. He met us in Bangkok on our first SAS voyage in 2009. I had never used Skype before but thought it would be fun to try it from some of the ports we visit so that I could talk to and see my daughters and their families. Unfortunately it cannot be accessed from the ship while we are at sea.
On our last night in Galle Janneke cooked a marvellous meal of roast, organic chicken-s (two-they are very small) and vegetables. It was the most delicious chicken I had tasted for many years and one realises how bland is the chicken we buy in the supermarkets at home. We knew we had to be up very early (3 am) to drive to Colombo for Jeannie to catch her 10 am Emirate's flight back to Nairobi so we all turned in at about 8.30 pm. George first read a bed time story to Findlay after climbing the fairly long ladder to his high bunk bed!
How sad are goodbyes when one is uncertain when one will see friends again. This was true of Jeff, Janneke and Findlay and also Jeannie. We simply had to appreciate what a wonderful opportunity this trip has been to connect with them at all. We now know beyond doubt that the future holds treasures we cannot imagine...unexpected and very precious.
After a fast drive of only three and a half hours into Colombo, we dropped Jeannie off at the International Airport and following a suggestion from Janneke, went to a beach hotel in the coastal town of Nagombo, about a 25 minute drive from the airport. We bade Dulip farewell and went into a refreshing buffet breakfast at the Camelot hotel. We sat under an umbrella in the shade and with a sea breeze beside the swimming pool and again looked out to sea where we had sailed only a few days before on our way to India.
George lost our paper e-tickets for the flight back to Chennai! So we rushed to an internet cafe where I found them in a file on my hotmail. I was just about to print them but at that precise second there was a power cut! Ah well...we jumped into our taxi and made for the airport where they barely registered this disturbing fact and simply looked us up on their own computers and handed us our boarding cards. I have to confess to a melt-down when George first announced the loss! I had memories of our previous visit to Chennai when he had come to the airport, on our way to Kochi, and similarly announced that he not brought the money I had promised to hand to the travel agent on our arrival in Kerala. Again that was not a problem and they happily agreed to wait until we could visit an ATM in Kochi.
We had a smooth and comfortable flight apart from a man who sat just behind us and shouted the whole way in friendly fashion to his friend across the aisle! We were served another wonderful Indian meal although the flight took even less than an hour. I could not imagine any airline in North America doing the same thing.
In Chennai airport we stood in the 'foreigners' queue to go through Customs. We reached a very pleasant man who said we simply had to fill in another form (we had completed one each on the plane) so would we please go to Immigration and he pointed to a door a few yards away. We walked over and as we entered a woman in a bright green sari shouted at me 'You, woman, sit over there!' pointing at a bench. Before I could move she added 'What do you want?' and then nodded to herself and threw two forms at us 'Fill them in' she said. So we did. In the meantime she was shouting in very broken English at a bemused Chinese woman who simply stood, looking at her in shock, still as a statue. Eventually she walked out and we handed in our forms.
Then the trouble began. The immigration woman stared at our passports turning the pages of each one maddeningly slowly, muttering who-knew-what to herself and then she looked at me and said 'You must go to (some street with a mile long name) in Chennai to register!' she repeated this several times getting louder each time. We attempted to explain that it was unecessary for us to register as we had a double entry visa and were 'leaving India tomorrow'. She shuffled the forms around looking helplessly at a man at another desk who was grunting on the phone as he typed on his computer whatever he was being told at the other end. This went on for some time until he suddenly turned round, took our forms off her desk and said 'Go!' Frightened he might change his mind we left immediately rushing to find my back pack on the carousel (it was lying there in lonely splendour) and were relieved to discover that the driver we had arranged was still waiting for us although we were so late.
About an hour and a half later after a hair raising drive through Chennai to the port and going through two more Customs points, one at which women were 'frisked', we were on board the Explorer and in our cabin....home!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Entering India
Mixed emotions today. Shall be again in the land of my birth, with which I have a love/hate relationship. Love because of the assault on the senses of colour, smells, friendliness, NOISE, music, culture...all at once! Hate because I don't do heat well these days, or high humidity and edespite it's proximity to the sea, even those breezes are hot. It is an overwhelming place to step into from an air conditioned, American ship! But nevertheless that is what we shall all be doing in a couple of hours.
I think always of my parents when I'm here in Madras...my Dad's last posting before he retired to the cold dampness of Scotland. He returned there with such enthusiasm and high hopes only to be laid low with clinical depression from which he suffered on and off until his death in 1966. He took early retirement after being offered the post of Manager of the Cochin branch of Grindlays Bank. When I walked round in Kochi last year I thought how prefererable it would have been as a posting after Chennai...to give them both their post independence names. They never would have believed that their daughter, who had been in a South African boarding school during their 6 pre-retirement years in India, would so many years later return to the country in which they had lived for 24 of my father's working life. They both seem very close...as if they're saying...this is the place where we were, take it in and remember us!
They would also have found it impossible to believe the growth in population, modern buildings, pollution and CARS! Each car hooting continually as it drives along avoiding crashes and sudden death every second. Plus the other amazing fact: that I shall be flying to Sri Lanka to stay with my father's brother's grandchild and great grandchild who have chosen to live there. The Hutchisons are a family hugely addicted to travel and the tropics. Only those who remained in Scotland know where they truly belong. When anyone asks the rest of us the simple question 'Where do you come from?' we sigh and start a long tale which sounds exotic but is the story of our separate lives. My children I know 'belong' in Canada....and I do too these days...I think...do I?...well, maybe!
We shall be gone for almost 6 days so bear with me and I shall try to make up for lost time when we get back on the 15th or 16th at the latest....because that's the day we set sail again....for Malaysia and Penang.
I think always of my parents when I'm here in Madras...my Dad's last posting before he retired to the cold dampness of Scotland. He returned there with such enthusiasm and high hopes only to be laid low with clinical depression from which he suffered on and off until his death in 1966. He took early retirement after being offered the post of Manager of the Cochin branch of Grindlays Bank. When I walked round in Kochi last year I thought how prefererable it would have been as a posting after Chennai...to give them both their post independence names. They never would have believed that their daughter, who had been in a South African boarding school during their 6 pre-retirement years in India, would so many years later return to the country in which they had lived for 24 of my father's working life. They both seem very close...as if they're saying...this is the place where we were, take it in and remember us!
They would also have found it impossible to believe the growth in population, modern buildings, pollution and CARS! Each car hooting continually as it drives along avoiding crashes and sudden death every second. Plus the other amazing fact: that I shall be flying to Sri Lanka to stay with my father's brother's grandchild and great grandchild who have chosen to live there. The Hutchisons are a family hugely addicted to travel and the tropics. Only those who remained in Scotland know where they truly belong. When anyone asks the rest of us the simple question 'Where do you come from?' we sigh and start a long tale which sounds exotic but is the story of our separate lives. My children I know 'belong' in Canada....and I do too these days...I think...do I?...well, maybe!
We shall be gone for almost 6 days so bear with me and I shall try to make up for lost time when we get back on the 15th or 16th at the latest....because that's the day we set sail again....for Malaysia and Penang.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Sea day
We all relaxed today and I decided to read a non classroom book. So am actually reading two: The Eighth Man by drama Prof. Michael Williams (he is a man of many, many parts! A crime novel set in a Cape Town township.
Also Skinners Drift by Lisa Fugard (Athol Fugard's actress daughter). So I am steeped in South Africa and loving it. Strange connection here between theatre and novel writing. In both one enters the lives and personalities of others I suppose. Wish I could really write...novels and memoirs...or plays. When I read these I have mentioned I am filled with admiration at the quality of the writing by two people who both have other careers!
We took Jeannie for a special 'farewell' dinner last night. It was very good but oh so filling. We have all been feeling tired and relaxed today, I am sure the result of too much food. There were just 5 of us, Terry and Alfred Hunt, Jeannie and ourselves...a happy and talk filled meal. Alfred is such a funny, sweet guy who won an Olympic competition to make the judges laugh. I do that when I see him approaching because I know he will make a witty remark...so he cracks me up in anticipation.
Jeannie, Terry and Alfred were invited to the Captain's lunch today (everyone goes eventually). Fortunately it was light. George and I had salad on the pool deck and read our books. Tomorrow we gather our extended family together in our cabin for pizza, soft drinks and chat. Our Kenyan student, Gerry, is so happy to be able to talk to Jeannie about her home, Nairobi. Although Jeannie lives in Naivasha she must make the almost 2 hour drive to the city to get provisions often. They have made plans to get together in the future. They all enjoy our cabin's spaciousness but hopefully tomorrow we can sit on our balcony and enjoy the sunshine.
Our acting class today had to dance to the first line of a poem of their choice. It was amazing to watch them and realise how much they have grown and relaxed into Michael's class. They were so graceful and artistic, a far cry from the play they have just done so successfully....see them on Facebook.
George is sound asleep already (we are losing hours) and it's only 9.50 pm! That's what the sea motion, wine and good food do for you! I must follow him.
You are all 9 hours behind so at work or on your computers or simply enjoying a beautiful Ontario Fall day. Have a good one.
Also Skinners Drift by Lisa Fugard (Athol Fugard's actress daughter). So I am steeped in South Africa and loving it. Strange connection here between theatre and novel writing. In both one enters the lives and personalities of others I suppose. Wish I could really write...novels and memoirs...or plays. When I read these I have mentioned I am filled with admiration at the quality of the writing by two people who both have other careers!
We took Jeannie for a special 'farewell' dinner last night. It was very good but oh so filling. We have all been feeling tired and relaxed today, I am sure the result of too much food. There were just 5 of us, Terry and Alfred Hunt, Jeannie and ourselves...a happy and talk filled meal. Alfred is such a funny, sweet guy who won an Olympic competition to make the judges laugh. I do that when I see him approaching because I know he will make a witty remark...so he cracks me up in anticipation.
Jeannie, Terry and Alfred were invited to the Captain's lunch today (everyone goes eventually). Fortunately it was light. George and I had salad on the pool deck and read our books. Tomorrow we gather our extended family together in our cabin for pizza, soft drinks and chat. Our Kenyan student, Gerry, is so happy to be able to talk to Jeannie about her home, Nairobi. Although Jeannie lives in Naivasha she must make the almost 2 hour drive to the city to get provisions often. They have made plans to get together in the future. They all enjoy our cabin's spaciousness but hopefully tomorrow we can sit on our balcony and enjoy the sunshine.
Our acting class today had to dance to the first line of a poem of their choice. It was amazing to watch them and realise how much they have grown and relaxed into Michael's class. They were so graceful and artistic, a far cry from the play they have just done so successfully....see them on Facebook.
George is sound asleep already (we are losing hours) and it's only 9.50 pm! That's what the sea motion, wine and good food do for you! I must follow him.
You are all 9 hours behind so at work or on your computers or simply enjoying a beautiful Ontario Fall day. Have a good one.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
A day in Mauritius
What a beautiful island....I would actually like to live there. Indian, African, Chinese, Malay and a few white population..Hindu, Budhist, Christian and everything else...and they all live in harmony. What an example to the world.
The only problem we could gather was corruption in government and the attempt by politicians to divide by religion to win votes. There is 8-10% unemployment, free health care and education. If a student does really well and wins a scholarship all his/her university education (must be in the UK) is paid for by the government.
The island is volcanic with strange shaped mountains, tropical vegetation, glorious beaches (lots of white sandy bays protected by coral reefs which keep the sharks out.).brilliant flowers like hibiscus and frangipani (white and pink my favourite flower), Eucalyptus, Tamarind, Banyan and Cuasarina trees. Good roads and very many Toyotas and Citroens. Women wear colourful Indian dress, saris and Salwar Kameez. The men are often dressed in western suits and shorts in Port Louis but more traditionally at home.
I had booked a taxi and Mike was there to pick us up promptly at 9 am. There was alot of traffic getting out of Port Louis but it eased off as we drove out of town and into the lovely rolling countryside. Mike was a fountain of knowledge, very well spoken and with a delightful French accent. The main language is French Creole. There is now huge shopping mall somewhere on the island but thank goodness we didn't see it. As Mike said "What does Mauritius need with such a thing?'
he told us that there is a huge South African settlement (white) living in one of the areas we passed through called Tamarind...large area with some big houses....all along a sea front.
We finally arrived at Le Paradis and were greeted by uniformed doormen....very helpful and polite. We waited for Charles and Gillie in a beautiful open lobby, filled with palms and marble and beautiful furniture.
There were arrangements of Frangipani and another stunning one of three vases of different heights, each filled with upright Arum lillies...I had seen some growing by the roadside. There was a very artistic person around here somewhere!
Charles and Gillie came to greet us and then began a wonderful day for the three travellers. They took us first for some really good, strong coffee siting in an open air lounge bar....that is, open on all sides to the gardens and the sea. Then we walked along a path to their room and the lovely smallish beach area in front of it. We had wooden slatted chaises longues with thick cushions under thatched umbrellas looking out to a turquoise sea...paradise! We changed in their beautiful room...they had a balcony overlooking the lawns, palm trees and out to sea and a comfortable airy bedroom with a huge bathroom off it and a walk in dressing room.
Then we went for a glorious swim, the water just the right temperature and this wonderful pale turquoise coloue, clear as glass....oooh haven't had such a swim since the old days in Yugoslavia on another island, far away, Hvar! Jeannie and George snorkelled by I get a panicky claustrophobia when the mask and nose clip go on and the mouth piece in....help! air! They loved it and saw wonderfully shaped and coloured fish. We lay around on the comfortable chairs (in the shade mostly, it was hot), chatted and read our books until lunch time. We ambled slowly towards the open dinig room and were treated to a light but delicious lunch looking out towards the sea...as if we don't ever see it??!! None of us can ever get enough. As I write, I just have to turn my head and there it is through the balcony doors, blueish grey and slightly choppy, whizzing by. I sleep to it's rolling and wonder how I manage if the earth doesn't move!
To lie thinking, with a soft warm breeze caressing you, and palm trees above you, the sea rippling on to the sand gently before you, that's my idea of Paradise! The G&T's and chilled white wine did nothing to destroy the euphoria!
It is strange to meet someone for the first time at about 10.30 am and be truly sad to say good bye at 4 pm! That's how it was for all three of us, not only Jeannie, who may perhaps see Charles and Gillie again in Australia in the near future when they all visit their children there.
We easily made it back on to the ship, with time to spare. This is the great dread of doing an independent (non SAS) trip. There is no leeway given to anyone , faculty or student, if they do not return before the prescribed two hours before sailing. We were back at 4 pm and the gangway was on the 2nd deck level with the dock....hurray! No puffing up to the 5th!
My one purchase on Mauritius was a tiny, most beautifully carved Budha of sandstone. He is fat and smiling and adds a mischievous air to my collection. I bargained with the beach 'salesman' who said he had done all the carving and managed to get him down from Rs (rupees) 1400 to Rs 800.
So not bad....I think we were both happy...which probably means I paid far too much. But I love it and that's what counts.
And so we sail on to India and Sri Lanka......
The only problem we could gather was corruption in government and the attempt by politicians to divide by religion to win votes. There is 8-10% unemployment, free health care and education. If a student does really well and wins a scholarship all his/her university education (must be in the UK) is paid for by the government.
The island is volcanic with strange shaped mountains, tropical vegetation, glorious beaches (lots of white sandy bays protected by coral reefs which keep the sharks out.).brilliant flowers like hibiscus and frangipani (white and pink my favourite flower), Eucalyptus, Tamarind, Banyan and Cuasarina trees. Good roads and very many Toyotas and Citroens. Women wear colourful Indian dress, saris and Salwar Kameez. The men are often dressed in western suits and shorts in Port Louis but more traditionally at home.
I had booked a taxi and Mike was there to pick us up promptly at 9 am. There was alot of traffic getting out of Port Louis but it eased off as we drove out of town and into the lovely rolling countryside. Mike was a fountain of knowledge, very well spoken and with a delightful French accent. The main language is French Creole. There is now huge shopping mall somewhere on the island but thank goodness we didn't see it. As Mike said "What does Mauritius need with such a thing?'
he told us that there is a huge South African settlement (white) living in one of the areas we passed through called Tamarind...large area with some big houses....all along a sea front.
We finally arrived at Le Paradis and were greeted by uniformed doormen....very helpful and polite. We waited for Charles and Gillie in a beautiful open lobby, filled with palms and marble and beautiful furniture.
There were arrangements of Frangipani and another stunning one of three vases of different heights, each filled with upright Arum lillies...I had seen some growing by the roadside. There was a very artistic person around here somewhere!
Charles and Gillie came to greet us and then began a wonderful day for the three travellers. They took us first for some really good, strong coffee siting in an open air lounge bar....that is, open on all sides to the gardens and the sea. Then we walked along a path to their room and the lovely smallish beach area in front of it. We had wooden slatted chaises longues with thick cushions under thatched umbrellas looking out to a turquoise sea...paradise! We changed in their beautiful room...they had a balcony overlooking the lawns, palm trees and out to sea and a comfortable airy bedroom with a huge bathroom off it and a walk in dressing room.
Then we went for a glorious swim, the water just the right temperature and this wonderful pale turquoise coloue, clear as glass....oooh haven't had such a swim since the old days in Yugoslavia on another island, far away, Hvar! Jeannie and George snorkelled by I get a panicky claustrophobia when the mask and nose clip go on and the mouth piece in....help! air! They loved it and saw wonderfully shaped and coloured fish. We lay around on the comfortable chairs (in the shade mostly, it was hot), chatted and read our books until lunch time. We ambled slowly towards the open dinig room and were treated to a light but delicious lunch looking out towards the sea...as if we don't ever see it??!! None of us can ever get enough. As I write, I just have to turn my head and there it is through the balcony doors, blueish grey and slightly choppy, whizzing by. I sleep to it's rolling and wonder how I manage if the earth doesn't move!
To lie thinking, with a soft warm breeze caressing you, and palm trees above you, the sea rippling on to the sand gently before you, that's my idea of Paradise! The G&T's and chilled white wine did nothing to destroy the euphoria!
It is strange to meet someone for the first time at about 10.30 am and be truly sad to say good bye at 4 pm! That's how it was for all three of us, not only Jeannie, who may perhaps see Charles and Gillie again in Australia in the near future when they all visit their children there.
We easily made it back on to the ship, with time to spare. This is the great dread of doing an independent (non SAS) trip. There is no leeway given to anyone , faculty or student, if they do not return before the prescribed two hours before sailing. We were back at 4 pm and the gangway was on the 2nd deck level with the dock....hurray! No puffing up to the 5th!
My one purchase on Mauritius was a tiny, most beautifully carved Budha of sandstone. He is fat and smiling and adds a mischievous air to my collection. I bargained with the beach 'salesman' who said he had done all the carving and managed to get him down from Rs (rupees) 1400 to Rs 800.
So not bad....I think we were both happy...which probably means I paid far too much. But I love it and that's what counts.
And so we sail on to India and Sri Lanka......
Monday, October 3, 2011
Thoughts at sea - Mauritius
Some ruminating: Another sea day and I realise that I have alot of time on my hands to think and read. I am so very fortunate to be here, especially to spend these few days with Jeannie whom I have known since 1957. I have often wished I had a sibling and perhaps that's what I feel about Jean: someone I never have to explain my feelings thoughts and ideas to because she is there ahead of me! We laugh because we realise we are both thinking the same thing at the same moment. Lovely! The other side of this coin is that I shall feel bereft when she leaves....
Steve Reeves's latest funny comment: He is an Economist and asked his class yesterday this question: What are the advantages of a weak Dong? (Vietnam coin) I will leave you to imagine the student response! Will he ever be allowed to live it down?
In a lecture on women's lives worldwide was happy to see that on the list of the best countries for a woman to live Canada ranks third...well before the United States. Britain isn't even on that chart! Makes you wonder??!
Jeannie is now reading The Help which I enjoyed so much earlier in the trip. We both wonder how, with their own history of slavery and racism, Americans can be quite so judgemental of South Africa? The difference is only in numbers really....the whites being such a minority in South Africa. There has now been an ANC government for 14 years and improvements are coming...albeit slowly. Illegal immigrants are pouring in looking for prosperity, which they cannot find in their own countries, crowding the townships. A huge problem. In Ghana, a stable African country, the infrastructure is very weak (crumbling perhaps) and it is rife with corruption. In Zimbabwe a corrupt government has destroyed the economy so that the Zimbabwean people are suffering terribly; the land is not being farmed and again the infrastructure is weak and getting weaker. Leaders don't want to give up power and the people suffer....there is huge discrepancy in wealth in many African countries. I fear for them all.
We have arrived in Mauritius but we're so early (3 pm arrival) that we are not allowed ashore today. Customs have been and we can leave the ship from 6 am (some hope!) tomorrow morning. Spending the day with Jeannie's friends, Charles and Gillie who are spending their 40th wedding anniversary where they spent their honeymoon 40 years ago...amazing! The hotel I gather is v. luxurious, Le Paradis, and we are to be their guests!
Just had a long interesting conversation with Jeremy Kingston, our Captain, at the bar. Turns out his father was in the Indian army, like Jeannie's, he has spent time in East Africa like both of us, has sailed on British India and P&O ships like both of us. Lovely chat following a talk given by him in the Union at our logistical/cultural pre-port (at which George spoke brilliantly and amusingly on Creoles!) telling the students, in no uncertain terms, that if they come aboard drunk tomorrow they will be breathalised and that if they are extremely drunk they will be taken out of the programme and sent home. It unfortunately needed to be said. Apparently the reason we are only staying one day in Mauritius is because of the appalling behaviour of students on previous voyages. How embarrassing for Semester at Sea and for their country and ultimately what a complete waste of time and opportunity for themselves.
It takes a Brit to use the tone of voice which both silences and scares these young people...and us! Some students talk all the way through Global Studies and make it difficult for others to hear the lectures...amazingly disrespectful and thoughtless. They are so great individually, how does this happen?
Off to bed so that we can have an early breakfast (7.30 am) and our taxi is picking us up at 9 am. It takes an hour and 10 minutes to reach Le Paradis they say (45 km)depending on the traffic. Mauritius looks so beautiful from our balcony: strange peaks reaching up into the sky and the twinkling lights of Port Louis....looking forward to seeing it by daylight.
Sorry for sounding off.....it's the Baillie's Irish Cream on ice that Mandy just made me! Off to bed....Bon Soir!
Steve Reeves's latest funny comment: He is an Economist and asked his class yesterday this question: What are the advantages of a weak Dong? (Vietnam coin) I will leave you to imagine the student response! Will he ever be allowed to live it down?
In a lecture on women's lives worldwide was happy to see that on the list of the best countries for a woman to live Canada ranks third...well before the United States. Britain isn't even on that chart! Makes you wonder??!
Jeannie is now reading The Help which I enjoyed so much earlier in the trip. We both wonder how, with their own history of slavery and racism, Americans can be quite so judgemental of South Africa? The difference is only in numbers really....the whites being such a minority in South Africa. There has now been an ANC government for 14 years and improvements are coming...albeit slowly. Illegal immigrants are pouring in looking for prosperity, which they cannot find in their own countries, crowding the townships. A huge problem. In Ghana, a stable African country, the infrastructure is very weak (crumbling perhaps) and it is rife with corruption. In Zimbabwe a corrupt government has destroyed the economy so that the Zimbabwean people are suffering terribly; the land is not being farmed and again the infrastructure is weak and getting weaker. Leaders don't want to give up power and the people suffer....there is huge discrepancy in wealth in many African countries. I fear for them all.
We have arrived in Mauritius but we're so early (3 pm arrival) that we are not allowed ashore today. Customs have been and we can leave the ship from 6 am (some hope!) tomorrow morning. Spending the day with Jeannie's friends, Charles and Gillie who are spending their 40th wedding anniversary where they spent their honeymoon 40 years ago...amazing! The hotel I gather is v. luxurious, Le Paradis, and we are to be their guests!
Just had a long interesting conversation with Jeremy Kingston, our Captain, at the bar. Turns out his father was in the Indian army, like Jeannie's, he has spent time in East Africa like both of us, has sailed on British India and P&O ships like both of us. Lovely chat following a talk given by him in the Union at our logistical/cultural pre-port (at which George spoke brilliantly and amusingly on Creoles!) telling the students, in no uncertain terms, that if they come aboard drunk tomorrow they will be breathalised and that if they are extremely drunk they will be taken out of the programme and sent home. It unfortunately needed to be said. Apparently the reason we are only staying one day in Mauritius is because of the appalling behaviour of students on previous voyages. How embarrassing for Semester at Sea and for their country and ultimately what a complete waste of time and opportunity for themselves.
It takes a Brit to use the tone of voice which both silences and scares these young people...and us! Some students talk all the way through Global Studies and make it difficult for others to hear the lectures...amazingly disrespectful and thoughtless. They are so great individually, how does this happen?
Off to bed so that we can have an early breakfast (7.30 am) and our taxi is picking us up at 9 am. It takes an hour and 10 minutes to reach Le Paradis they say (45 km)depending on the traffic. Mauritius looks so beautiful from our balcony: strange peaks reaching up into the sky and the twinkling lights of Port Louis....looking forward to seeing it by daylight.
Sorry for sounding off.....it's the Baillie's Irish Cream on ice that Mandy just made me! Off to bed....Bon Soir!
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Stellenbosch
We had a light supper (there I go again) on our last night at the Soeterus and chatted to Louis and Retief. Louis goes down to Stellenbosch and stays all week only returning to Calitzdorp at weekends. He would be leaving at about 4 am. (In the event he took only about three and a half hours to reach Stellenbosch and Retief told us he drives like 'a bat out of hell' at that time of the morning!) It was so sad to make our farewells that night, after all of us chatting over glasses of the Port for which the town is famous. We have promised to write reviews of this lovely place on line, pass round the brochures and, by word of mouth, tell all travellers that they must stop in and be taken care of by this charming couple. We shall keep that promise.
We left just after nine the following morning and drove the five or so hours drive to Stellenbosch. I think we all hated leaving the Karoo behind but consoled ourselves with two wine tastings on the way! We sat under shade trees in one and in a dark cellar like room in the other, but all the wine tasted good!
We arrived at the Bonne Esperance Guest House shortly after five o'clock and had arranged to meet Terry and Alfred Hunt at a restaurant we have dined at twice in Stellenbosch. George got lost on the way which is most unlike him because, like an elephant, he hardly ever forgets a route. We arrived over an hour late and yet there they both were, good natured as ever, happy to see us. Terry is the Assistant Life Long Learner Coordinator on the ship and her husband Alfred teaches history. They have decided to come with George and me to see the Terra Cotta Warriers in Xian in China which will be fun. Alfred is one of the sweetest and funniest men one could meet and Terry is a gem.
The Bonne Esperance is an old Victorian house with graceful modern bedrooms. The young woman who ran it was Afrikaans and charming. After a good breakfast we went on our way towards Cape Town where we were returning to the ship for our last night in South Africa. We treated ourselves to another wine tasting on the way and then George drove us to the top of Signal Hill to see the view before returning the car to Avis.
It is always good to return 'home' to the ship. The cabin is so comfortable and our view from it in Cape Town is stunning as I have described ad nauseum! We showered and changed and Brenda treated us all to a pub dinner on the Waterfront. We had had four magnificent days in South Africa, blue skies and bright sunshine.
Brenda left after breakfast the follwoing morning for home and Frank. George and I saw her into her taxi and waved her goodbye. It seemed strange without her although I think she was ready to go back to Canada. Everyone has been asking for you Brenda and you are missed but our loss is Frank's gain and you are finally home with family and friends....in good time for Jo's birthday and to work on the play! Good wishes from everyone here on the Explorer.
Jeannie has settled in well. It is great for me to have her company, we have known each other for sooo long and feel very comfortable together. We met first as Nursing Sisters in Nairobi, were each other's bridesmaids when we both married there and then coincidentally all moved to Nigeria at about the same time. And we have always kept in touch. I shall miss her terribly when she leaves us in Sri Lanka.
We sailed out of Cape Town two nights ago. Everyone was on deck to watch the dark shapes of the mountains recede into the distance....I never know if it's the last time...
One final note tonight: No one has yet been able to help me get photos on to my blog. Apologies for that...shall try again when the computer lab is quiet and someone can spend an hour or so with me until we manage.
We left just after nine the following morning and drove the five or so hours drive to Stellenbosch. I think we all hated leaving the Karoo behind but consoled ourselves with two wine tastings on the way! We sat under shade trees in one and in a dark cellar like room in the other, but all the wine tasted good!
We arrived at the Bonne Esperance Guest House shortly after five o'clock and had arranged to meet Terry and Alfred Hunt at a restaurant we have dined at twice in Stellenbosch. George got lost on the way which is most unlike him because, like an elephant, he hardly ever forgets a route. We arrived over an hour late and yet there they both were, good natured as ever, happy to see us. Terry is the Assistant Life Long Learner Coordinator on the ship and her husband Alfred teaches history. They have decided to come with George and me to see the Terra Cotta Warriers in Xian in China which will be fun. Alfred is one of the sweetest and funniest men one could meet and Terry is a gem.
The Bonne Esperance is an old Victorian house with graceful modern bedrooms. The young woman who ran it was Afrikaans and charming. After a good breakfast we went on our way towards Cape Town where we were returning to the ship for our last night in South Africa. We treated ourselves to another wine tasting on the way and then George drove us to the top of Signal Hill to see the view before returning the car to Avis.
It is always good to return 'home' to the ship. The cabin is so comfortable and our view from it in Cape Town is stunning as I have described ad nauseum! We showered and changed and Brenda treated us all to a pub dinner on the Waterfront. We had had four magnificent days in South Africa, blue skies and bright sunshine.
Brenda left after breakfast the follwoing morning for home and Frank. George and I saw her into her taxi and waved her goodbye. It seemed strange without her although I think she was ready to go back to Canada. Everyone has been asking for you Brenda and you are missed but our loss is Frank's gain and you are finally home with family and friends....in good time for Jo's birthday and to work on the play! Good wishes from everyone here on the Explorer.
Jeannie has settled in well. It is great for me to have her company, we have known each other for sooo long and feel very comfortable together. We met first as Nursing Sisters in Nairobi, were each other's bridesmaids when we both married there and then coincidentally all moved to Nigeria at about the same time. And we have always kept in touch. I shall miss her terribly when she leaves us in Sri Lanka.
We sailed out of Cape Town two nights ago. Everyone was on deck to watch the dark shapes of the mountains recede into the distance....I never know if it's the last time...
One final note tonight: No one has yet been able to help me get photos on to my blog. Apologies for that...shall try again when the computer lab is quiet and someone can spend an hour or so with me until we manage.
Heritage day continued
We had a picnic lunch sitting under the shady trees beside a stream with huge red cliffs rising on all sides...idyllic! We chatted, stretched our legs and enjoyed the delicious picnic lunch Retief had packed for us. Outside Prince Albert we had found a Bush Pub full of Afrikaans speakers enjoying their holiday, smoking (!) and drinking beer. We sat under a thatched roof overlooking a small pond which was great for birdwatching. The inevitable weaver birds were there again, building their hanging nests and Cape wagtails, shrike and red bishops to name just a few. It was a hot sleepy afternoon with bees buzzing around...
We returned to Calitzdorp by the lower road through Meiringspoort and returned to the Soerus Guest House in time for a refreshing cup of Rooibos tea. Friends of our hosts had arrived and we joined them a little later for wine and braaid beef ribs and conversation. They were all Afrikaans. About an hour or so later we were asked to go into the dining room where a long table had been set with candles and wine glasses. We sat down with Retief, Loius and their three friends to a scrumptious meal and interesting conversation...if a little stilted.
'So' I was asked, 'as you were at school here do you speak any Afrikaans?' No I replied just a very few phrases and I know Die Stem (the old South African national anthem) of course, we had to learn that. 'Ah...then say it!' said Louis. So I did, just as I had been taught by Miss Van Aarde all those years ago....in my best Afrikaans accent. Well it worked, they all applauded amid grins and smiles and we were 'in'! My rendition of Die Stem (The Source) had won us friends. It had never been as useful before!
I have always loved the words of Die Stem in both languages for they speak of the deep love of their land by all South Africans. Of course the song was revered by the Afrikaans population so there had to be a new more relevant anthem which really covers all of Africa...and all Africans. It is "Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika" ("Lord Bless Africa" in Xhosa), which was originally composed as a hymn by a Johannesburg Methodist mission school teacher, Enoch Sontonga in 1897. Sometimes now both anthems will be sung before football or rugby matches, at other events only the new one.
Translation of Die Stem.
Out of the blue of our sky
Out of the depth of our sea
Where our eternal mountain ranges
And the cliffs respond to us
From our far deserted plains
And the groan of our ox wagons
Rises the call of our beloved,
Of our land South Africa.
We shall answer what you ask of us
We shall offer what you need
We shall live, we shall die
We for you South Africa!
It goes on for another few verses but this is the verse that was universally used for the National anthem. My translation is a bit rough but you get the idea...when you have travelled across the country and gasped at its beauty and when you have learned the history of the Dutch Voortrekkers in their ox wagons you can picture it easily and understand the huge attachment to the land common to the Boers. The inhabitants of the Cape at that time did not include Bantu tribes, although of course they were shipped there as slaves coming primarily from other parts of Africa. Later Bantu tribes came down from the North including the Xhosa and Zulu.
_____________________________________________________________________
Our next day was much more relaxed: we had another lovely breakfast (my English teacher at school always used to say 'Margaret you seem to go from one meal to the next in your essays about your holidays'...t'was ever thus I fear!) We drove to Calitzdorp Spa some 20 miles away through flat bush country dotted with the small clay houses, (two small windows and a front door), we had become so used to. Families were working and playing outside, washing was blowing on lines in the breeze and children waved to us as we passed. It was another stunning day with the bluest of skies over the dry scrub earth, dotted with the dense reds, yellows and blues of the veld flowers. This was probably the worst road we had driven on, narrow and bumpy, the old Oudtshoorn road.
We stopped at a restaurant/pub near the Spa and drank beers and shandies on the long wooden veranda. There were two African Grey parrots in side by side cages being very quiet. I had a soft conversation with one of them and he made that lovely throaty sound that parrots make, back to me. Jeannie and I remembered our parrots in Nigeria, both African Greys, whom we had taught to talk (Who are you? You're a bloody Sassenach!" I had taught mine...)and who both disliked men! Joey talked alot to my eldest daughter Sheona, whose first word was not "Mama" but "Joeeey!" said in a high excited voice as she greeted him each day. He could imitate children's voices, the hacking smoker's cough of a friend who looked after him when we were on leave and even...if he was sitting near the dining table...our voices and the sound of water being poured from a jug. He could perfectly mimic John's voice calling "Margaret!" and I was often caught out.
There were other animals in cages around the property, monkeys, marmosettes,(spelling please Chris?) and there were zebras on the grass in the distance. The cages needed cleaning and we wanted to remove all the debris from the cages to make the animals and birds...if they noticed...more comfortable and cared for.
We had lunch that day with Joan and Trevor again and then visited their rented cottage where we had been meant to go. It was lovely, with lots of sweet smelling flowers in the garden and a patio overlooking the Calitzdorp valley. 'Our' cottage there had been closed to visitors because of family illness but we felt we had landed squarely on our feet at the Roeterus with our two wonderful hosts. We were being utterly spoiled. Hard to say good bye to the Teetons because who knows when, if ever, we shall meet again. I feel this sadness every time I leave Africa and my friends there.
We returned to Calitzdorp by the lower road through Meiringspoort and returned to the Soerus Guest House in time for a refreshing cup of Rooibos tea. Friends of our hosts had arrived and we joined them a little later for wine and braaid beef ribs and conversation. They were all Afrikaans. About an hour or so later we were asked to go into the dining room where a long table had been set with candles and wine glasses. We sat down with Retief, Loius and their three friends to a scrumptious meal and interesting conversation...if a little stilted.
'So' I was asked, 'as you were at school here do you speak any Afrikaans?' No I replied just a very few phrases and I know Die Stem (the old South African national anthem) of course, we had to learn that. 'Ah...then say it!' said Louis. So I did, just as I had been taught by Miss Van Aarde all those years ago....in my best Afrikaans accent. Well it worked, they all applauded amid grins and smiles and we were 'in'! My rendition of Die Stem (The Source) had won us friends. It had never been as useful before!
I have always loved the words of Die Stem in both languages for they speak of the deep love of their land by all South Africans. Of course the song was revered by the Afrikaans population so there had to be a new more relevant anthem which really covers all of Africa...and all Africans. It is "Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika" ("Lord Bless Africa" in Xhosa), which was originally composed as a hymn by a Johannesburg Methodist mission school teacher, Enoch Sontonga in 1897. Sometimes now both anthems will be sung before football or rugby matches, at other events only the new one.
Translation of Die Stem.
Out of the blue of our sky
Out of the depth of our sea
Where our eternal mountain ranges
And the cliffs respond to us
From our far deserted plains
And the groan of our ox wagons
Rises the call of our beloved,
Of our land South Africa.
We shall answer what you ask of us
We shall offer what you need
We shall live, we shall die
We for you South Africa!
It goes on for another few verses but this is the verse that was universally used for the National anthem. My translation is a bit rough but you get the idea...when you have travelled across the country and gasped at its beauty and when you have learned the history of the Dutch Voortrekkers in their ox wagons you can picture it easily and understand the huge attachment to the land common to the Boers. The inhabitants of the Cape at that time did not include Bantu tribes, although of course they were shipped there as slaves coming primarily from other parts of Africa. Later Bantu tribes came down from the North including the Xhosa and Zulu.
_____________________________________________________________________
Our next day was much more relaxed: we had another lovely breakfast (my English teacher at school always used to say 'Margaret you seem to go from one meal to the next in your essays about your holidays'...t'was ever thus I fear!) We drove to Calitzdorp Spa some 20 miles away through flat bush country dotted with the small clay houses, (two small windows and a front door), we had become so used to. Families were working and playing outside, washing was blowing on lines in the breeze and children waved to us as we passed. It was another stunning day with the bluest of skies over the dry scrub earth, dotted with the dense reds, yellows and blues of the veld flowers. This was probably the worst road we had driven on, narrow and bumpy, the old Oudtshoorn road.
We stopped at a restaurant/pub near the Spa and drank beers and shandies on the long wooden veranda. There were two African Grey parrots in side by side cages being very quiet. I had a soft conversation with one of them and he made that lovely throaty sound that parrots make, back to me. Jeannie and I remembered our parrots in Nigeria, both African Greys, whom we had taught to talk (Who are you? You're a bloody Sassenach!" I had taught mine...)and who both disliked men! Joey talked alot to my eldest daughter Sheona, whose first word was not "Mama" but "Joeeey!" said in a high excited voice as she greeted him each day. He could imitate children's voices, the hacking smoker's cough of a friend who looked after him when we were on leave and even...if he was sitting near the dining table...our voices and the sound of water being poured from a jug. He could perfectly mimic John's voice calling "Margaret!" and I was often caught out.
There were other animals in cages around the property, monkeys, marmosettes,(spelling please Chris?) and there were zebras on the grass in the distance. The cages needed cleaning and we wanted to remove all the debris from the cages to make the animals and birds...if they noticed...more comfortable and cared for.
We had lunch that day with Joan and Trevor again and then visited their rented cottage where we had been meant to go. It was lovely, with lots of sweet smelling flowers in the garden and a patio overlooking the Calitzdorp valley. 'Our' cottage there had been closed to visitors because of family illness but we felt we had landed squarely on our feet at the Roeterus with our two wonderful hosts. We were being utterly spoiled. Hard to say good bye to the Teetons because who knows when, if ever, we shall meet again. I feel this sadness every time I leave Africa and my friends there.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Heritage Day -24th September 2011
We awoke to a brilliant, if slightly cool,spring day. Breakfast was at 8 am. Jeannie was sitting in the sun outside on the long stoep reading, George watching the weaver birds in the trees beside the swimming pool and Brenda and I came last. We wandered into the dining room/lounge and found a long wooden table beautifully set. Coffee, orange juice,fruit salad and yoghurt, beautiful grainy bread, eggs, bacon, mushrooms waiting on a hot plate, home made preserves and creamed butter...all laid out waiting.
We met Louis, Retief's partner, who chatted to us and helped Retief serve. What a delightful couple! We had been offered a packed picnic lunch the night before as we were setting off across the mountains to St Albert. Needless to say we accepted and later discovered a feast of salad, cherry tomatoes,dressing, sandwiches, chicken, pathe, tuna salad, biltong, coffee and Coke. We were being pampered and we loved it!
We were given an affectionate send off as we left and invited to join them for a braaivleis (BBQ) that evening....again we accepted. We left Calitzdorp and headed towards the mountains. As we climbed in altitude we were driving through sheer red rock faces with bright wild flowers wedged between crevices. The road dropped ominously hundreds of feet on one side but the views were breathtaking. We seemed to climb for ever, each rocky peak hiding others, our ears popped!
Eventually we started going down hill and we were soon in prince Albert, a typical but beautiful little Karoo town. Tree lined streets, lots of coloured faces with traces of Koi and San in their features, young people in the universal outfits we see on the streets at home, small shops and no highrises or malls (fantastic!!) just old houses with wide verandas and bright flowering bushes in the neat gardens. As always the township a short distance away but with neat brick and clay houses with small gardens and children playing soccer in well kept sports fields...always the sounds of voices laughing, shouting, talking. Much more life going on it seemed in the coloured community than the white.
I am using the word 'coloured' as in 'Cape coloureds', used only in this part of South Africa...as opposed to Bantu or Black...left over from unofficial and official Apartheid for many years. There is such an exotic mixture of races in the Cape: Koi, San, Bushmen, (the original inhabitants who were wiped out with the coming of the white man) Malay, Portuguese, Dutch, French Hugenot ,English and on and on....everyone who ever landed on this fertile land and brought disease, knowledge, hard work, produce,patience and desperation to this 'new' (to Europeans) continent, fell in love with it's beauty and opportunity and stayed.
The Karoo is immense scrub-bush country with farm upon 'invisible' farm....ostrich, sheep, cattle, goats, maize, wheat. Such huge acreage that the boundaries are difficult to see amongst the mountains, kopjies, dams and windmills. Every now and then an oasis of eucalyptus and gum trees surround a low homestead with cats and dogs lounging...often no sign of human habitation although it's obviously there...somewhere! It is wonderfully quiet country apart from the wind sometimes and the shouts of children.
We met Louis, Retief's partner, who chatted to us and helped Retief serve. What a delightful couple! We had been offered a packed picnic lunch the night before as we were setting off across the mountains to St Albert. Needless to say we accepted and later discovered a feast of salad, cherry tomatoes,dressing, sandwiches, chicken, pathe, tuna salad, biltong, coffee and Coke. We were being pampered and we loved it!
We were given an affectionate send off as we left and invited to join them for a braaivleis (BBQ) that evening....again we accepted. We left Calitzdorp and headed towards the mountains. As we climbed in altitude we were driving through sheer red rock faces with bright wild flowers wedged between crevices. The road dropped ominously hundreds of feet on one side but the views were breathtaking. We seemed to climb for ever, each rocky peak hiding others, our ears popped!
Eventually we started going down hill and we were soon in prince Albert, a typical but beautiful little Karoo town. Tree lined streets, lots of coloured faces with traces of Koi and San in their features, young people in the universal outfits we see on the streets at home, small shops and no highrises or malls (fantastic!!) just old houses with wide verandas and bright flowering bushes in the neat gardens. As always the township a short distance away but with neat brick and clay houses with small gardens and children playing soccer in well kept sports fields...always the sounds of voices laughing, shouting, talking. Much more life going on it seemed in the coloured community than the white.
I am using the word 'coloured' as in 'Cape coloureds', used only in this part of South Africa...as opposed to Bantu or Black...left over from unofficial and official Apartheid for many years. There is such an exotic mixture of races in the Cape: Koi, San, Bushmen, (the original inhabitants who were wiped out with the coming of the white man) Malay, Portuguese, Dutch, French Hugenot ,English and on and on....everyone who ever landed on this fertile land and brought disease, knowledge, hard work, produce,patience and desperation to this 'new' (to Europeans) continent, fell in love with it's beauty and opportunity and stayed.
The Karoo is immense scrub-bush country with farm upon 'invisible' farm....ostrich, sheep, cattle, goats, maize, wheat. Such huge acreage that the boundaries are difficult to see amongst the mountains, kopjies, dams and windmills. Every now and then an oasis of eucalyptus and gum trees surround a low homestead with cats and dogs lounging...often no sign of human habitation although it's obviously there...somewhere! It is wonderfully quiet country apart from the wind sometimes and the shouts of children.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
South Africa
Where to begin? Imagine this: Four excited people, a Toyota Corolla and the open road! Our destination? Calitzdorp, a five hour drive from Cape Town in the Klein Karoo. Under the shelter of Table Mountain, the so familiar guardian which kept watch over me for so many years of my young life, (my boarding school on its slopes), we four pack away our back packs (could be the first line of a new song) into the spacious boot/trunk (bilingual now!) and fasten our seat belts for the long ride. George takes the wheel and keeps it for the next five days.
We speed out of Cape Town, past the townships, looking a little more ordered than last year, minimally more prosperous....still a HUGE discrepancy in this country between rich and poor...and out into open country, farm lands and vineyards. We climb over the mountain ranges which separate this lush scenery for the scrub and brilliant wild flowers which carpet the Karoo in the spring....if the rain has come which it had finally after 3 years of drought. Dense splashes of colour: reds, mauves, purples, all shades of yellow to orange..bringing to vivid life the usually arid scrub. I had never seen the Karoo in the spring and this year it put on an incredible show for us!
We had had our Calitzdorp booking cancelled at the last moment and I had to make a pretty quick decision as to where we would lodge. I liked to look of a place called The Soeterus Guest House: it had luxurious looking bedrooms and provided breakfast and other meals should you want them. We arrived in the typical little Afrikaans Karoo town shortly after 5 pm and drove down a dusty unpaved road to find the Soeterus. Here it was, a high gate and a sudden sharp turn to a steep driveway and down into the car park. A young sweet faced man came to meet us 'Retief?' I asked and it was. Dark hair, gentle brown eyes and a welcoming smile....we had corresponded hurriedly and briefly. He immediately offered us tea or coffee and took us to the dining/lounge which was high and roomy, a converted shed most beautifully done with a bamboo ceiling and rough rafters, old locally made 'Dutch' furniture, a door into Retief's kitchen.
'Come with and I'll show you your rooms' he said in typical abbreviated South African fashion. We had almost identical twin bedded rooms, again high ceilings and stone walls, warm wooden furniture, sophisticated curtains and padded head boards and a small vase of garden cut flowers....perfect!
We showered and changed and rushed to meet Trevor and Joan Teeton (Joan and I were childhood friends) who had arranged dinner for us in the Zamani restaurant in Calitzdorp. It was lovely to see them again after nearly 10 years (yes we had all aged!) and we had a nice home cooked dinner in a cosy combination of store and dining room. Good conversation with Joan but so sad to hear of the loss of a mutual school friend to cancer. Phillida, who had, with Jean and Sally, arranged such a fantastic buffet lunch for my Shongololo group (remember Frances?) at Jean's lovely home on the sea front in Boulders. We had coffeed together, the four of us, two years ago at the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town...as Sally said to me on the phone this morning 'Well Maggie it's our age, we seem to be dropping like flies!' Nice thought!!
We all dropped into bed and asleep within seconds that night...we had planned an exciting day on Saturday, South African Heritage day.
We speed out of Cape Town, past the townships, looking a little more ordered than last year, minimally more prosperous....still a HUGE discrepancy in this country between rich and poor...and out into open country, farm lands and vineyards. We climb over the mountain ranges which separate this lush scenery for the scrub and brilliant wild flowers which carpet the Karoo in the spring....if the rain has come which it had finally after 3 years of drought. Dense splashes of colour: reds, mauves, purples, all shades of yellow to orange..bringing to vivid life the usually arid scrub. I had never seen the Karoo in the spring and this year it put on an incredible show for us!
We had had our Calitzdorp booking cancelled at the last moment and I had to make a pretty quick decision as to where we would lodge. I liked to look of a place called The Soeterus Guest House: it had luxurious looking bedrooms and provided breakfast and other meals should you want them. We arrived in the typical little Afrikaans Karoo town shortly after 5 pm and drove down a dusty unpaved road to find the Soeterus. Here it was, a high gate and a sudden sharp turn to a steep driveway and down into the car park. A young sweet faced man came to meet us 'Retief?' I asked and it was. Dark hair, gentle brown eyes and a welcoming smile....we had corresponded hurriedly and briefly. He immediately offered us tea or coffee and took us to the dining/lounge which was high and roomy, a converted shed most beautifully done with a bamboo ceiling and rough rafters, old locally made 'Dutch' furniture, a door into Retief's kitchen.
'Come with and I'll show you your rooms' he said in typical abbreviated South African fashion. We had almost identical twin bedded rooms, again high ceilings and stone walls, warm wooden furniture, sophisticated curtains and padded head boards and a small vase of garden cut flowers....perfect!
We showered and changed and rushed to meet Trevor and Joan Teeton (Joan and I were childhood friends) who had arranged dinner for us in the Zamani restaurant in Calitzdorp. It was lovely to see them again after nearly 10 years (yes we had all aged!) and we had a nice home cooked dinner in a cosy combination of store and dining room. Good conversation with Joan but so sad to hear of the loss of a mutual school friend to cancer. Phillida, who had, with Jean and Sally, arranged such a fantastic buffet lunch for my Shongololo group (remember Frances?) at Jean's lovely home on the sea front in Boulders. We had coffeed together, the four of us, two years ago at the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town...as Sally said to me on the phone this morning 'Well Maggie it's our age, we seem to be dropping like flies!' Nice thought!!
We all dropped into bed and asleep within seconds that night...we had planned an exciting day on Saturday, South African Heritage day.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Rough Day
Huge seas today as we plough our way towards South Africa. The ship is rolling, pitching and shuddering and quite a few passengers are feeling under the weather with colds, fevers and just plain sea sickness. So far, touch wood hard, I'm fine.
I have been thinking of Troy Davis in Georgia today. He has been incarcerated for 22 years and in spite of protestations of innocence will be executed at 7 pm tonight. I believe there is something cold blooded and savage about execution no matter whether it is by hanging or by lethal injection. A person's life is being snuffed out by another person...to me that is just as much a murder as that committed by a deranged killer.
I feel pride that Canada no longer has a death penalty...only then can we be sure that an innocent person is not killed by law.
Brenda has not been feeling 100% for a couple of days but I think may finally, after alot of sleeping (Gravol induced) today, have licked it. I hope we are all well for our visit to South Africa. Looking forward to greeting Jeannie but not to losing Brenda. Everyone wishes she could stay on for the whole voyage...with Evelyn Hannon who has been such a joy to spend time with. They will be flying to Toronto from Jo'burg together via Zurich.
Today is rather a blah day, lots of waves and white caps out at sea, lots of rocking around inside, rehearsal at 5 pm (I am now the prompt!) for our acting class and finally a drink at 6 pm in the lounge. George and I have been going to bed early after watching Alan Bennett films in our cabin. Great fun!
Tomorrow we have a "girls night out" with our extended family, Emma, Rachel, Gerry and Lilly, plus Brenda, Evelyn and me. We shall start off in our cabin with soft drinks and go on to supper in the garden dining room but have to disperse for the Logistical Pre-port in the Union. Also at 7 pm there will be a performance (dress rehearsal) of the African play I am prompting (yes Michael wants me there sitting at the side)! They will perform it in a township school on our first day. They will have to cope without me then! Meeting Ali and Geoff in the Table Bay Hotel before setting off for Calitzdorp where we shall be staying on a guest farm and meeting Joan and Trevor Teeton for dinner. Ali and Joan and I all went to school together!
2 more sleeps!
I have been thinking of Troy Davis in Georgia today. He has been incarcerated for 22 years and in spite of protestations of innocence will be executed at 7 pm tonight. I believe there is something cold blooded and savage about execution no matter whether it is by hanging or by lethal injection. A person's life is being snuffed out by another person...to me that is just as much a murder as that committed by a deranged killer.
I feel pride that Canada no longer has a death penalty...only then can we be sure that an innocent person is not killed by law.
Brenda has not been feeling 100% for a couple of days but I think may finally, after alot of sleeping (Gravol induced) today, have licked it. I hope we are all well for our visit to South Africa. Looking forward to greeting Jeannie but not to losing Brenda. Everyone wishes she could stay on for the whole voyage...with Evelyn Hannon who has been such a joy to spend time with. They will be flying to Toronto from Jo'burg together via Zurich.
Today is rather a blah day, lots of waves and white caps out at sea, lots of rocking around inside, rehearsal at 5 pm (I am now the prompt!) for our acting class and finally a drink at 6 pm in the lounge. George and I have been going to bed early after watching Alan Bennett films in our cabin. Great fun!
Tomorrow we have a "girls night out" with our extended family, Emma, Rachel, Gerry and Lilly, plus Brenda, Evelyn and me. We shall start off in our cabin with soft drinks and go on to supper in the garden dining room but have to disperse for the Logistical Pre-port in the Union. Also at 7 pm there will be a performance (dress rehearsal) of the African play I am prompting (yes Michael wants me there sitting at the side)! They will perform it in a township school on our first day. They will have to cope without me then! Meeting Ali and Geoff in the Table Bay Hotel before setting off for Calitzdorp where we shall be staying on a guest farm and meeting Joan and Trevor Teeton for dinner. Ali and Joan and I all went to school together!
2 more sleeps!
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