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!
Monday, October 31, 2011
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.
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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.
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