TravelStream™ news feed for member elopfamily on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/elopfamily en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Mon, 31 Aug 2009 23:14:30 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1251772975/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1251772975/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1251772975/tpod.html Mon, 31 Aug 2009 23:14:30 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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Haliburton, Ontario, Canada

This is it…the final one! The blog to end all blogs…or more precisely, just more blather because I was dumb enough to suggest that the previous blog was not the final one. And to compound the problem, some readers are actually harassing us for the final entry. So here it is…

On the way back to Ontario we stopped in Ottawa for some beavertails…three "originals" for Michael, Laura and me, and one “peaches and cream” version for Sarah. Unfortunately, nothing for Tracy, as they haven't yet figured out how to make a gluten free version of this tasty deep fried doughy treat…it might have something to do with the “doughy” part.

We’ve now arrived at our cottage on Maple Lake. See you next trip. And, that’s a wrap!

[Editor’s Note: Kevin just spent five minutes typing the above and then ran outside to go wakeboarding with the kids…when he returns I’ll make some snide “sexual innuendo” comment about him not being a “finisher” and he’ll be back.]

On second thought, let’s not close this blog off yet…we need to build it to its exciting climax.

[Editor’s Note: That was just too easy!]

I think it’s only right that this final blog is one of reflection. Not the type where I look in the mirror and say, “Damn Kev, you look good!” but instead a reflective look back at what we had hoped to accomplish throughout our 150,000 kilometers of travel, and maybe a few favourite lists.

When we first decided to embark on this “round the world” odyssey, we had some specific goals in mind. In no particular order, here is how we fared:

- Goal: Avoid working for 12 months. Result: Exceeded expectations, as we managed to stretch the trip out to 14 months (and counting, although my current pastime of drinking beer on the cottage deck probably doesn’t constitute travelling - except for maybe the trips to the toilet);

· Goal: Stretch our minds scientifically. Result: Exceeded expectations. We expect to shortly have a scientific study published entitled, “The Odiferous Repercussions of a Fajita Night (Complete with Refried Beans) While Living in the Confined Space of a Recreational Vehicle”;

· Goal: Introduce the children to different cultures. Result: Mixed. Yes, they have an appreciation that we are better off than people in many other countries, but I wonder if it has sunk in as to how truly lucky we are to be living in Canada. Having said that, the other day Sarah remarked to Tracy while in the car, “I love Canada”, a comment I’m certain she wouldn’t have made a year and a half ago;

· Goal: Introduce the children to some of the wonders of the world. Result: Met expectations. The kids can now talk about Egypt’s Pyramids, the “Big 5” animals in South Africa, Machu Picchu in Peru, and Cambodia’s Angkor Wat, (among many others). I do need to shake my head however, when little Sarah highlights Las Vegas as her favourite destination;

· Goal: Create a better bond between the children. Result: Mixed. When they are not fighting with each other, they get along great. I’m not sure we needed to travel around the world to confirm this standard family dynamic;

· Goal: Create a better family bond between ourselves and the children. Result: Exceeded expectations. We really are able to talk about anything now with the kids (including the odiferous repercussions of a fajita night – okay, you’re right, we could talk about that before we left);

So, overall, the trip was everything we had hoped it would be. With respect to events that we could have done without, however, we may list the following:

· Having to pay to squat over a dirty hole in the floor to go to the bathroom (Middle East, Southeast Asia);

· Constantly being the target of (mostly unsuccessful) rip-off artists (Peru, Middle East, Indonesia, Southeast Asia);

· Single digit temperatures in July (Alberta, Alaska, Newfoundland);

· People crazy enough to actually wake up at 4:30am in the morning in order to be the first ones into the South African/Namibian Game Parks…no scratch that one, that was us;

· Altitude sickness in Peru, although Sarah now proudly holds the family record of a barf six-pack;

· 20 hour bus rides (Turkey to Syria, Vietnam to Thailand);

· 13 hour plane rides, with a 6 hour time change (Hong Kong to Johannesburg);

· Taxis that refused to take more than 4 passengers, despite the offer of a few additional shekels (Israel);

· Departure taxes when leaving a country (Middle East, Southeast Asia);

· “Kebab” flavoured potato chips (Egypt);

· Cottage cleaning ladies who refuse to acknowledge that actually cleaning the cottage is one of their tasks (Canada);

· “When the dog bites, when the bee stings”…never mind that one, I was just having another Julie Andrews fantasy moment;

And now on to our favourite destinations list:

Kevin – South Africa…“loved the safari drives, the nature and the 30 pounds of boerewors sausage” (of which 15 pounds are still currently residing on my waistline, but I’m working that issue! I don’t suppose that those beers on the cottage deck are helping);

Tracy – Namibia…“it doesn’t get any better than the desolation of this country, the magnificent sand dunes of the Namib Desert, and the lions and leopards we saw up close at Etosha. We probably could have done without the dirt roads and flat tires, but I guess it just adds to the sense of adventure…”;

Michael – China/Hong Kong…“I loved seeing the Giant Pandas, and eating Indian food in that really old and dirty Hong Kong building [also known as the place we were staying]. It was great to go to another Disney World too…three down, and only two to go (California and Japan). Dad, are you sure you should have left your job at that Japanese owned company??”;

Laura – Australia… “It was amazing to swim with all the colourful fish at the Great Barrier Reef and to see the koalas and kangaroos…although having “sausage on the barbie” every night for dinner got a little old!”;

Sarah – Las Vegas…“The pretty lights, the amazing shows, the pinball machines, the fun, the huge buffets…what’s not to like? Why are you looking at me like that!? What? What do you mean Las Vegas isn’t a country…it should be!”

Truth be told, it was actually pretty difficult for us each to choose our single favourite location. We visited so many countries over the course of our travels and each one had its own special appeal. And so, our favourite locations lists would be completely remiss without mention of places like New Zealand and Turkey (which were both identified repeatedly as “second or third favourites”), Bali (Fat Yogi’s rocks!), Alaska, Peru, Hawaii and our very own Newfoundland. While the Middle East and Southeast Asia (with the exception of Bali) play a prominent role in contributing to the “things we could have done without” list, they were still fascinating to visit. I think it was just more difficult travelling through these countries, particularly with the kids. And, of course, the story of our year wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the people we met up with along the way. Thanks to everyone who shared their homes with us during the year. You don’t know how much it means to see friendly, familiar faces when you are so far away from home.

As for regrets in taking the trip, besides Michael’s oft repeated, “I miss my friends” (with the corollary “Why do I have sisters instead of brothers?!”), the only regret has to do with fitness. Tracy and I had been training hard before we left and were probably in the best shape of our lives. Now…not so much (see boerewors sausage comment above).

As for other comments about the trip, I’m currently writing this while my parents are visiting us at the cottage (where, by the way, we are living until our house tenant moves out at the end of the month) so let’s ask them...

Through a swirl of her expertly formed cigar smoke rings, and amidst the tinkling of the ice cubes in her whisky, my mother had the following to say, “Don’t ever take my grandchildren away from me again, you jacka$$!”*

“Short and to the point, I suppose. And from you Dad?”

“The Maple Leafs were losing before you left, they lost while you were away, and they’re going to keep losing now that you are back. As the wheel of time keeps turning, so does one’s life.”**

“Whoa, Daddy Dude…that was philosophical!”

I see that I am now comfortably over the 1,000 word count, so I can wrap up this blog without anymore “premature finishing” comments from my lovely wife. It’s back to watching hummingbirds (and drinking beer) on the deck for me.

Thanks to all of you out there who have been travelling with us over the last year through these blogs. We hope you’ve enjoyed reading them as much as we’ve enjoyed putting them together. It was fun while it lasted…

* While this blog is based on reality, I sometimes exaggerate (or completely make things up) for effect.

** Absolutely zero exaggeration here…the Maple Leafs stink!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1249605250/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1249605250/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1249605250/tpod.html Thu, 06 Aug 2009 21:40:18 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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Quebec City, Quebec, Canada

Only two more blogs to go!! Maybe it's finally time that I graduate from toilet humour and write a serious bit of prose that actually resembles a travelogue. Nah, why start now…maybe next week. Instead I’ll begin with some of the wacky people we’ve had the "pleasure" of dealing with lately. But before that, for the sole purpose of giving our photos some context, I’ll mention that in the last week, we moved on from Nova Scotia and travelled through the provinces of Prince Edward Island, and New Brunswick. Okay, now on to the reasons why we (okay, mainly me) don’t like dealing with people…

- Let’s start with the cottage “cleaner”. To help finance this trip we rented out our house, and our cottage. The weekly cottage renters have the option of cleaning the cottage themselves before they leave, or paying us $125 to have it cleaned. Two of this year’s weekly renters chose to pay for cleaning, and so several months ago we arranged for a local cleaner to come in. The cleaner, being knowledgeable in how the cottage rental business operates, charges us the exact same $125 to clean the cottage. [Highway robbery for an hour or two of cleaning, we know!] So, as we’re blissfully drinking Screech in Newfoundland, we discover that, despite a reminder e-mail from us, the cleaner neglected to come and clean the cottage the first week. [Thank goodness for our amazing neighbours, who covered for her (and us)!!!] After several unanswered emails to the cleaner to find out what had happened, Tracy finally tracked her down ten days later on the phone. Here is how the conversation went:

Tracy: “We’re obviously disappointed that you didn’t come to clean the cottage two weeks ago. Can we count on you coming next week?”;

Cleaner: “Yes, sorry about that. I’ve been really busy and I forgot. For sure I’ll be there this week. I’ll even call the renters near the end of the week and let them know that I’ll be coming to check out the place. I won’t tell them that I’m the cleaner, because I don’t want them to think they can leave without cleaning the cottage.”;

Tracy (with admirable patience): “But they won’t clean the cottage. They have paid us so they don’t have to clean the cottage. We’re using that money to pay you to clean the cottage.”

Cleaner (entering the world of the absurd): “Oh, I don’t know if I’ll have time to clean the cottage. I’ve got a business to run! But I will check it to see if it’s clean.”

So, while travelling itself is fantastic, dealing with some of the items at home can be a little trying. I don’t know what we would have done over the past year without the help we received from our parents, and our neighbours, both at home and at the cottage.

· And then there was “the patient”. While in New Brunswick we went to Hopewell Rocks Provincial Park (more on that later). While we were talking to one of the park’s interpretive guides, up marched a middle-aged lady from parts unknown (although her husband was wearing a Myrtle Beach t-shirt, army fatigue pants and a “Buy American” baseball cap), interrupted us, actually saluted the guide, and then said she was in need of some first-aid. The interpretive guide (whose “doctoring abilities” I presume include little more than being able to unlock the room that holds the first-aid box) asked what was wrong. Mistake. The lady proceeded to explain how her (non-saluting) shoulder was hurting “right here” and there was a “twinge back here”, and perhaps it needed to be popped back into place. (Or maybe even operated on, I thought to myself). I’m not sure how this “emergency” ended up, but I’m thinking that a guide knowledgeable on local New Brunswick fauna, with access to band-aids and antibacterial cream from the first aid box, isn’t going to be her Marcus Welby, M.D. Maybe this particular American didn’t really understand what our Canadian socialized medicine is really about…i.e. we’re not all doctors (although I could easily diagnose her immediate need to see a psychiatrist!);

· And we can’t forget about the “security” people. One of our credit card companies seems to pride itself on stopping fraud before it happens. Very admirable, but a little common sense attached to this worthy pursuit could be helpful. Early on in our trip, we discovered that this company (let’s call them Citibank “MC” for fun) was putting a freeze on our credit card every few days when a “questionable charge” went through. MC’s definition of a “questionable charge” included the purchase of Peruvian air tickets or Greek ferry tickets. Understandable I guess, but when it still happens after we explicitly tell them to expect international travel expenses, it gets a little frustrating. Not to mention a little embarrassing. Consider the time a Parisian restaurant owner looked down his nose at us and said (in that condescending tone that some French seem to use), “Monsieur, your credit card has been rejected. You don’t manage your money well, no?”

Our latest credit card block came because we were apparently charging too much money for gas (like it’s my fault gas prices are too high!). The MC security consultant in his best “lawyer for the prosecution” voice said, “Well sir, I see that you charged $125 to buy gas in Toronto on the morning of July 6th, and then later that day, you charged another $125 for gas near Quebec City. Does that make sense to you??” I guess our “alibi” of driving that day from Toronto to Quebec City didn’t occur to him. And, I won’t even start ranting about the problems we had trying to explain to him that, upon moving out of our house, we no longer had a phone number…“I’m sorry, sir. Our system requires a phone number. I’ll have to contact my supervisor if you continue refusing to give me your phone number!”;

· And then there was the Starbucks barista in Nova Scotia, with the good old fashioned Maritime sense of humour. In purchasing a Chai Tea “treat” for us, mine was marked with a black marker to distinguish it from Tracy’s “soy milk” version. Normally they put a mark the side of the cup, but this time the black marker was on the lid. I have a sneaking suspicion that the barista’s true intent, which was achieved to perfection, was to have black marker transfer from the lid to the tip of my nose as I drank my tea. Tracy was nice enough to eventually point this out to me;

· And, as our final character, in Exhibit 1, all the way from the ocean off Prince Edward Island, I present to you Beached Jelly Fish Man. I liked him, as he didn’t say or do anything dumb the entire time we were with him. I think he even would have happily cleaned the cottage if I’d asked him;

Okay… I’m half way through this blog and I haven’t said anything of consequence (though I have been able to accomplish my usual weekly goal of good naturedly poking fun at the Americans and the French). Now, let’s get on to some serious touristy stuff.

Prince Edward Island is a charming, scenic province best known for its trademark reddish brown soil and its potatoes. It’s also home to the world famous fictional character, Anne of Green Gables. Cavendish, the late author’s home, is overrun with “Anne” sights including the national historic “Green Gables” site and a full sized mock-up town of Avonlea (Anne’s fictional hometown). There are literally thousands of “Anne” souvenirs and, to top it off, all the local burly policemen wear fake red Anne pigtails under their constable hats (OK, I made that last one up, but you get the idea). I made the comment to Tracy that Cavendish has “a bit of a Niagara Falls feel to it” with its amusement parks, mini golf, ice cream shops and strip malls. For those of you not familiar with the way we have “compromised” some of our national treasures, this is not a good comment.

Regardless, we (especially Tracy and the girls) all enjoyed visiting the Green Gables National Historic Site (not once but twice…boy, that combo National Park/Historic Site annual pass is really coming in handy!*). And, of course we had to drive the 50 minutes to Charlottetown to see “Anne of Green Gables, The Musical”. This show has been entertaining Anne groupies for 45 consecutive years, and is Canada’s longest running musical. Who would have thought a red-headed freckle-faced girl could generate so much attention? In the lobby of the theatre there is even a three foot high model of the “Green Gables” house made entirely out of sugar. It was created and donated by some Japanese citizens enamoured with the Anne of Green Gables books…and with apparently nothing better to do?? (Japanese, by the way, is one of 17 languages that the books have been translated into.) Surprisingly, this act of goodwill from Japan had no effect on Tracy. She still “suggested” to the gaggle of Japanese tourists who, during intermission, had moved to three empty rows in front of us (and effectively obstructed our poor little Sarah Loo Hoo’s view), that perhaps they “should move right back to the seats they came from. Chop chop!!” Apparently, nobody gets between my honey-bunny and her Anne of Green Gables fix!

The other part of PEI that we found interesting was “Confederation Bridge”. This bridge was built in 1997 and connects PEI to New Brunswick. This engineering marvel is 13 kilometres long, takes 10 minutes to cross, and almost wasn't built for fear that Anne would escape. It has 1.1 metre high guardrails on each side, so for anyone unfortunate enough to not be travelling in “The Big Zeke” (or a reasonable facsimile), there isn’t much of a view. To avoid driver boredom (and I presume accidents), they intentionally put some curves in it. And the best part is that there is no toll to cross this bridge when driving onto the island. But if you want to leave? Well, that’s where they get you. Then again, who would really want to leave PEI when you can buy a different “Anne” themed maple sugar candy for every day of the month?

And then, it was on to New Brunswick where most of our activities revolved around their amazing tides. For reasons that are too boring to get into, the Bay of Fundy area in New Brunswick has the highest tides in the world. In some areas they rise an astonishing 17 metres (51 feet for our American brethren). These funky tides allowed us tourists to witness the following:

· A “tidal bore” in the city of Moncton that occurs when the tide comes in. There is a river that flows through the town and into the ocean. When the high tide comes in, it actually causes a single wave (up to a foot high) to roll back up the river, and then effectively the river changes direction and the water flows away from the ocean for the next six hours;

· The volume of water flowing into the funnel shaped Bay of Fundy during every high tide exceeds 100 billion tonnes of water, and is greater than the combined average 24 hour flow of all the rivers in the world;

· At Fundy National Park [Did I mention that the combo National Park/Historic Site annual pass is really coming in handy?] we stood on a deck that had water lapping just beyond its base during high tide, but at low tide we couldn’t actually see far enough to spot any water;

· The Hopewell Rocks was another neat area that was covered with water during high tide but then allowed you to “walk on the ocean floor” at low tide. The pictures are better than words here (as is the case with most of our blogging). And as a bonus we saw a juvenile bald eagle there;

So New Brunswick, PEI and Nova Scotia were all enjoyable stops, but, in our collective opinion, none of them could match Newfoundland.

Let’s close off this blog with a few miscellaneous tidbits:

· You know you’re in the Maritimes when a McDonalds, built to look like a lighthouse, is serving up something called a McLobster. No thanks…and in fact, as a “cultural experience” we went for the real thing in New Brunswick…a 5-pounder to be exact;

· One of my favourite places in New Brunswick was a lookout called Cape Enrage. It was completely fogged in so we didn’t actually see it, but you have to love the name!;

· As part of one of those “nearing puberty” discussions we had with Michael, we told him that he was now becoming an adult. At that exact moment, he accidentally sprayed himself in the face with a squirt gun;

· And for little Sarah, who enjoys one tiny sip of our wine at dinner time…One day she decided that she would no longer drink wine on Tuesdays and Thursdays (…for who knows what reason). The first Tuesday rolled around, and before her sip we reminded her of her recent decision. Her response? “But it’s a Merlot!” and she happily broke her pledge. What have we done to her??;

· And as sad as it may be for us, our RV and friend, the Big Zeke, is now officially for sale…priced to sell (for anyone who is interested)!;

So that’s a wrap on another week. We’ve survived the Screech of Newfoundland, the McLobsters of Nova Scotia and the tides of New Brunswick. And, we’ve said goodbye to the cute little red haired, pigtailed legend of Prince Edward Island. And now, as we high tail it through Quebec (without, I hope, me having to talk to anyone) we look forward to our last official touristy duty of saying hello to the beavertail** selling guy in Ottawa…

* That’s my way of apologizing to Tracy for suggesting that “we will never get our money out of the combo National Park/Historic Site annual pass”).

** Canada’s own deep fried doughy and sugary pastry treat!!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1248926704/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1248926704/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1248926704/tpod.html Thu, 30 Jul 2009 00:51:28 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, Canada

T'was in the town of St. John’s. It was there I chanced to dwell,
One night when I was playing in a pub you all know well.
I met a girl from Carbonear who said she liked to dance.
And if I knew just what to do then maybe I’d have the chance.
I asked if her if she was partial to the jigs or to the reels.
What was her particular fancy for kicking up her heels?
She said she was fond of the melody and the signing of the note,
But her particular fancy was the rhythm of the goat.
With me rowdy dow diddley dow diddley and me rowdy dow diddly dow da.
Me rowdy dow diddley dow diddley and me rowdy dow diddley dow da.

(The Rhythm of the Goat, by The Navigators, Dance and Sing CD, 2002)

We have no idea what this song means, especially that troubling "rhythm of the goat" reference. But set it to some foot stomping, fiddle and mandolin screeching music, and it works. As long as it is sung by some good ol’ Newfoundlander boys, that is. Continuing to relax, and enjoy the culture of Newfoundland, we have recently immersed ourselves in Newfoundland music. Life is good here on The Rock.

But (and note the exceptionally dandy segue) life hasn’t always been pleasant here. And by that I mean that the original European discoverers of North America, the Vikings, had it a little rough. Our southern neighbours in the US may be quick to point out that Christopher Columbus was the first to discover our continent but, not surprisingly, their history lessons would be wrong again (by only about 500 years). I say “wrong again” because of their other well known historical inaccuracies, like the one about them never losing a war… “Vietnam? No, we never actually declared war…we were just there helping the farmers clear the land with our napalm”, or the “War of 1812 against Canada? Never heard of it…never heard of Canada either, for that matter”.

Anyway, I digress with my blather. We were talking about Vikings. These were the guys, led by Leif Eirikson, who landed on the northern tip of Newfoundland, and promptly named it “Vinland” because they found some grapes growing a little way inland. Despite the long harsh winters, apparently it was warm enough in the summer back then (unlike now) for grapes to grow. [I know the Global Warming Cult (“the GWC”) doesn’t like hearing about historical periods when it was warmer than it is now, but I’m just reporting the facts in the best way that I can plagiarize them from my one page, government-issued, glossy flyer.] The funny part is that hearty old Leif, and his merry band of Vikings, found the winters too cold here so they moved back to Iceland.

But they didn’t move back before they left enough evidence for the Canadian National Historic Site of L’Anse aux Meadows to be “born”. It was here that we spent an enjoyable day interacting with the authentic fake Vikings. Highlights of our visit to this area included the following:

- Playing with the bellows in the unoccupied blacksmith hut. In Michael’s overzealous pumping of the bellows, we discovered quickly that there must have recently been a fire there because the hut was suddenly filled with flying embers and sparks… “Daddy, are those fireflys?...Ouch!!”;

· Having the fake Viking blacksmith come into the hut, put his hands into the unexpectedly hot coals (another “Ouch!”), immediately look at us and ask, “Who’s done been playin’ with me bellows?” We chose the honourable approach of looking innocently around the room and staying silent. [If you need a better visual, just remember how you acted the last time you tried to sneak out a surprisingly smelly fart in a crowded room.] Despite our unauthorized use of the bellows, the blacksmith was still nice enough to give us a (safer) demonstration of how they work. It culminated with Sarah making a nail and getting to take it home as a free souvenir. You gotta love the free souvenirs. And for the record, Bob the Blacksmith Viking was accustomed to handling hot coals with his hands, so no serious harm was done;

· Another fake Viking taught Michael how to handle a sword, and a bow and arrow, and then chastised me for not already teaching him how to use these weapons. “Dude, we use laser guided weapons now! I’ve already taught him how to push a button on a video game!” And why wasn’t the fake Viking chick hassling Tracy for not teaching the girls how to sew moose hide shoes with cat gut??;

· We also wondered what happened to summer as we shivered in the wind chilled weather of 0 degrees Celsius [Hmm? Any comments from the GWC members?]. We did see more icebergs, however! And some more moose!;

· We enjoyed the nearby Viking Feast, which included a Viking Court. My name was mud when I tried to “kiss up” to the head Viking so that we could be the first in line for the buffet...I had my eye on the Moose Stew. He saw through my weak attempt and sentenced me “to the back of the line, swine!” Damn Vikings! This guy wasn’t so boisterous when we saw him the next day at his day job at the gas station…fake Vikings need to make a living too, I guess;

In one of those “maybe these folks have it right” moments we sat with a retired couple and their two grandchildren at the Viking Court. They used to own a bakery that was only open for nine months of the year. In the summer, they closed up their shop and spent the time with their children, either camping or just hanging out. They readily acknowledged that they “didn’t maximize their profits” and “operated contrary to a Harvard Business School case” but they were happy, and they were living their priorities. I say that “maybe” they had it right because personally, after 13 months, 24X7, with three children who don’t always get along, I’m eagerly looking forward to working…but then again, they’ll be in school soon, so the couch might not be such a bad place to hang out.

So, after spending two weeks in Newfoundland it was sadly time to move on. We thoroughly enjoyed our time here – beautiful rugged scenery, amazing wildlife, unique Irish-Canadian culture, simple laidback atmosphere and friendly people. Canada is lucky to encompass this beautiful land and it definitely goes on our “we must return” list. Miscellaneous memories include the following:

· A simple concept, but one that a RV driver can really appreciate…occasionally the highway widens into two lanes with the slow traffic staying to the right (as is the norm in North America). When the two lanes merge back into one, it is the “slow” vehicles on the right that have the right of way (as is not the norm in North America), with the faster, more maneuverable, vehicles on the left having to yield. Makes perfect sense to me…and to think people sometimes question the intelligence of Newfoundlanders;

· Spending four days in Gros Morne National Park…great scenery, more moose, and a boat trip into a fjord [Yes, there used to be glaciers here that have long since melted (and contrary to the GWC, this melting happened millions of years before fossil fuels started being burned)];

· Getting “Self-Screeched”. If you recall from our last blog, being “screeched-in” is a longtime Newfoundland custom, in which a person drinks a shot of screech (strong rum), kisses a codfish on the mouth, and answers the question "Is ye an honourary Newfoundlander?" with the phrase " 'deed I is me old trout, and long may your big jib draw.” Because our last four days in Newfoundland were spent in a government-run national park (where “fun with alcohol” appears to be frowned upon) we had to self administer the ceremony. Instead of kissing a dead cod, we used one of the kids’ stuffed whales, and to prove we are good parents we watered down the screech somewhat for the children. [For those of you who know me well, and remember the big barf of '83, you will realize that to willingly drink hard liquor is a considerable event for me…Note to Mom: Don’t ask.] [Editor’s note: ’83 was before my time – I’m not going to ask either.] We even added to the ceremony by lustily singing a verse from The Islander:

I’m a Newfoundlander, born and bred, and I’ll be one ‘til I die
I’m proud to be an Islander, and here’s the reasons why
I’m free as the wind, and the waves that wash the sands
There’s no place I would rather be than here in Newfoundland!

· And if you think our family fun ends with fish and rum, we also enjoyed one of our family “Sloppy Joe” traditions, Newfoundland style. I’m sure most of you know that a Sloppy Joe is minced beef, mixed with a tomato sauce and served on hamburger buns. For whatever reason, a few years ago we started a tradition of each making up and telling a story of “How the Sloppy Joe got its Name” whenever we have sloppy joes for dinner. Tracy’s Newfoundland entry had to do with messy female moose (“doe”?) roadkill that the locals would scoop up on their plate, and with their strong accents pronounce “doe” as “joe”. “Dis here sloppy joe roadkill be fine tastin!” I gave her an eight out of ten, and had she likened the roadkill blood to the tomato sauce I would have given her a perfect 10…yes, thirteen months on the road has taken its toll on all of us mentally;

· And speaking of roadkill, we were stopped on the way to our departing ferry where an agricultural officer confiscated our “imported from Prince Edward Island” but Newfoundland-bought potatoes (apparently some of the locally grown potatoes can carry disease). Tracy mentioned that she hoped they would be used by local charities or the foodbank, but the officer said these places refuse the potatoes. Oddly enough, he also added that these charities happily accept moose roadkill that gets brought in to them on the back of a pick-up truck. Perhaps Tracy’s Sloppy Joe story had more truth to it than we realized at the time;

· And speaking of our departing ferry, it was supposed to leave the island at 10:30am and arrive in Nova Scotia 5 hours later at 3:30pm. Because the incoming ferry was late arriving, we didn’t actually leave until 1:00pm. This should have gotten us into port at 6:00pm. Unfortunately, that was precisely when another ferry was loading up, so we did a “slow crossing” until the port was clear. The end result was an arrival at 8:30pm, only 5 hours late, on a 5 hour trip. No one seemed too fussed however…life is more laid back here, and as Joe the Biker told me, “We’ll get there when we get there.” Well said. And after all, it gave us more time to watch the whales that came up beside the ferry during the crossing;

· I present Exhibit A…do you think the Newfoundlanders enjoy their drink?? Tracy and I had a good laugh over this one!

After Newfoundland, we spent time in Nova Scotia, with the first stop being the 18th century National Historic Site of Louisbourg. This was yet another in a long line of Canadian forts that was built by the French, but occupied by the British after they poked their heads over the wall and said, “Boo!” This one was fascinating to visit as, with virtually no exceptions, the employees dressed and acted as if it were the year 1744. It was fun, and even for someone with a lack of interest in history (also known as “me”), it was enjoyable. The festivities included us yelling and spitting (not really) at the local wench who had been caught stealing some wine, and having the kids dress up in 18th century garb. There was also a children’s “passport” program where they earned stamps for visiting various attractions or participating in certain events. Five stamps in the passport could be exchanged for a free cookie. In yet another disappointing “fathering” moment, Laura entrusted me with the task of carrying her passport. Bad idea. I don’t know how it happened but I somehow dropped her “four-stamped” passport into the toilet at precisely the same time as I flushed. Salvaging at least a little bit of self respect, I refrained from reaching into the toilet to save it before it swirled away. My punishment was having to ask the 18 year old program guide for a new passport. “Did your daughter lose her passport?” “No, not exactly…”

Visiting Halifax was also enjoyable (a visit to Chapters for some new books and two chai tea lattes at Starbucks…you have to love cities with more than 5,000 residents!). We wandered around the waterfront and went to the Halifax citadel. We also got to check off the required tourist sites of nearby Peggy’s Cove (very scenic) and the Bluenose II sailboat, the predecessor of which graces our 10 cent coins. We had to chase that gal 100 kilometres to Lunenburg, where she had recently sailed, when we didn’t see her in Halifax. The highlight of Halifax for little Sarah was a sleepover at the house of her little friend Taryn, who had moved here 18 months ago. Another simple reminder that it is important and enjoyable to keep in touch with old friends.

I have to apologize if this blog rambles on without too much focus (I mean more than they normally do). I’m currently under the influence of a few Screech and Cokes. Add to that the fact that I’m “pumped” because we just got invited to a retro 80’s dance party. My mind is a’jumble with a collage of Duran Duran, Whitesnake, ACDC, George Michael (or is that Wham?) and grabbing my wife’s a@@ while slow dancing to Lady in Red. I’m also visualizing Billy Idol laying a beating on Depeche Mode. More Screech please!

Since this blog seems to focus on a more relaxed and simple way of life, as well as a musical theme I’ll end it with another Newfoundland song that is worth remembering when “life” seems too busy. Although not many of us are lucky enough to live by an ocean bay, perhaps there are other “Have you ever seen” moments that might be equally simple and enjoyable…

Have you ever seen a sunrise over the far shore reach?
Have you ever seen the magic of a humpback breach?
Have you pondered the mysteries of a jellyfish school?
Have you waded through the water in a clear tidal pool?
Have you ever seen a morning filled with twenty shades of grey?
Have you peaked at an eagle’s nest from twenty feet away?
Have you sung with your friends around a big ole driftwood fire?
Have you floated down across the cove on a tube from a tire?

All these things are out there,
You don’t have to pay.
Just open your eyes and you’ll be surprised,
What you see out in the bay

Have you ever seen an iceberg carved by the unseen hand?
Have you ever seen a north-east gale when it first strikes the land?
Have you taken a boat ride on a moonlit bay?
Have you followed its ripplin’ ribbon that made it look like day?
Have you followed the shoreline hoppin’ from rock to rock?
Smellin’ sea and feelin’ free, never knowin’ where to stop?
Have you ever copied icepans on an April day?
Or have you gone beyond those things and forgotten how to play?

All these things are out there,
You don’t have to pay.
Just open your eyes and you’ll be surprised,
What you see out in the bay

Have You Seen, by Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers, The Serious Stuff CD, 2001
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1248179412/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1248179412/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1248179412/tpod.html Tue, 21 Jul 2009 08:58:19 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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Twillingate, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada

Wow, what a beautiful place!! That may not be the first thought that comes to mind when someone mentions Newfoundland, but methinks it should. Yes, it's a little cold, and yes, we have seen more than a few icebergs (despite it being the middle of summer), and yes, the locals talk a wee bit strangely here, but this place, with its Alaskaesque rugged beauty is a national jewel.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves…what’s an Elop Canadian blog entry without an RV mishap or two. When we last blogged we were on a ferry from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland (…remember the "pillow" incident?). All was well until we tried to disembark. The ferry guy directing traffic was waving his hands about, and yelling a lot of instructions in a foreign language (which we later discovered was the Newfoundlander version of English). I decided his directions were a little less than ideal immediately after I scraped against the neighbouring Winnebago. While I felt bad, little harm was done to his side view mirror as they are built to absorb bumps, aren’t they? (or am I confusing side view mirrors with bumpers?) I could tell that the other RV driver wasn’t a local Newfoundlander as we could clearly understand what he was yelling. Regardless, it did spawn a great business idea… a series of high contact, NASCAR-like races with recreational vehicles (presumably held in the southern US states). It would include mandatory pit stops where the driver has to empty his sewage tank without splashing fecal matter on his shoes (again!?!) while his three children laugh at him safely from within the confines of the RV.

Not satisfied with a simple scrape, the Big Zeke had more destruction planned for the day. In navigating through the narrow campground road that night, I encountered a parked car that was sticking into the road. As I commenced avoidance measures Tracy said with a little panic in her voice, “Are you sure you have enough room to get past?” A few seconds later, and after a huge bang and a shudder, I realized that she was referring to the dirt and rock embankment that was sticking out from the other side of the road. Oops, I guess my answer to her question should have been “No”. Nothing too serious, however, which means mechanically the Big Zeke is fine, but aesthetically, a little plastic surgery may be required. And fortunately, we bounced away from the big rocks before they had a chance to puncture the propane tank (which happened to be lit at the time for the refrigerator).

And now on to Newfoundland. One of the first attractions of this province is the incredibly friendly people. For those of you unfamiliar with this easternmost province of Canada, the people are very welcoming but many of them talk with a strong accent. The best description we heard is that it sounds like a combination of Irish and English, spoken as if one had a mouth full of cod. Regardless of how it is described, Tracy and I have spent countless hours in the RV perfecting our own Newfoundlander accent while talking nonsense to each other…after 13 months on the road (24X7) it’s not like we have anything else to talk about. The accent just adds to the charm and friendliness of the locals. Some of the characters we have met include:

- The fellow RV traveler who got very animated telling us about the RV park in Nova Scotia that doubles as the set for the cult classic Canadian TV series, “The Trailer Park Boys”. “Ya, dat Bubbles fella, he be thar! You jus gots to go see it, me boy!” I’m not sure why this place wasn’t mentioned as a “gem” in the official government travel literature we received (or mentioned at all, for that matter), but, in spite of Tracy’s protests, I have added it to our “to-do” list;

· The lady working in the grocery store that spent a full 30 minutes with us explaining all the local food that was foreign to us, such as partridgeberry (good pie!), bakeapple (which is a berry, not an apple) and moose stew (which really didn’t require an explanation, but I guess she figured that since we live in Ontario, simple concepts require clarification);

· The gas station owners who proudly told us (and, by the way, all Newfoundlanders like to talk) that they had been to Ontario once to see their teenage son sing in an early round of Canadian Idol. When Tracy asked whether he had always sung, the mother replied, “Sing? We didn’t even know he could talk!!”;

· The staff of our whale watching tour boat that put on an impromptu, foot stomping concert for us during the trip back to shore;

· The guy just sitting in a pickup trip near a bay packed with icebergs. “Have you ever tried some iceberg ice in your whiskey or screech”, he asked Tracy as he swirled some around in his cup. Of course when Tracy said no, he quickly offered some up to her. If it were past 10am, she might have accepted;

· And my personal favourite was the local we read about in the Geo Center in St. John’s. There was a display about past earthquakes, and there was a newspaper article that proudly told the story of a resident who, after a moderate sized earthquake, and remembering the Newfoundland tsunami of 1929, rushed down to the harbour to see if another tsunami was coming. I don’t want to question the intelligence of Newfoundlanders, but personally if a tsunami were coming I might be headed in the other direction.

The wildlife is also quite exceptional in Newfoundland. On our first day on the island we stopped at Cape St. Mary’s, an ecological site that is home to thousands of birds, including 40,000 good looking Northern Gannet’s. The more popular bird, however, is the Puffin which is heavily promoted as a tourist attraction (including the “No Puffin’” signs in restaurants). These cute guys, with their colourful beaks and feet are also known as the “atlantic parrot”, or more descriptively as “a potato with wings”. Our whale watching boat tour took us past the aptly named Bird Island to see these guys. As part of the running narrative, the guide mentioned that the blackbacked seagulls eat Puffin eggs and small Puffins. Her joke of the day was that for breakfast these seagulls eat Egg McPuffins…those crazy Newfoundlanders!

I mentioned the whale watching tour. This was an absolute highlight. About 20 minutes into the trip, the captain spotted some water spouts so we quickly made our way in that direction. As we were getting closer, there were more and more spouts and the captain was getting increasingly excited, “I think thar be two of 'em out there, no, it be four…oh my cod-kissin’ grandmama, there’s a whole wack of ‘em!!!” When we got to the area, we were rewarded with the sight of numerous humpback whales continually jumping out of the water (“breaching” if you want to get technical), including a mother and baby. It’s amazing, first of all, just to spot these behemoth’s, but then to see them get their whole bodies out of the water on a jump is simply remarkable. And all just a few meters from the boat! One of the children even said that “watching the whales dance was better than seeing a lion in Africa”. Chalk one up for good ole Canada!

I guess we were still early in the whale watching season as there hadn’t been consistent spotting thus far, but the capelin (the little fish that attracts the whales) were just starting to come into the area. We thought the captain might be more excited than normal but when he yelled out a mighty “Cha-Ching” after a particularly good whale jump, it was confirmed. He said that the “cha-ching” referred to the “money shot” of the whale jumping, but I’m thinking it might have more to do with the start of his profitable busy season. And just to put a cap on the trip, the boat even sold screech in the galley.

[Cultural time out: For the uninitiated, screech is a particularly strong type of rum that originated in Newfoundland, and is iconic in the province. 'Screeching' someone visiting Newfoundland is a longtime custom, in which the person is to drink a shot of screech, kiss a codfish on the mouth, and answer the question "Is ye an honourary Newfoundlander?" with the phrase " 'deed I is me old trout, and long may your big jib draw.” As an FYI, that last part can be translated into “I hope you have good luck fishing”.]

And to close out the commentary on local wildlife, the resident moose population is very large, and we have seen many of these huge animals (and in fact eaten some of them in stew…and, by the way, it doesn’t taste like chicken).

I mentioned the Geo Center above. For the mandatory educational point of this blog I’ll point out that the rocks of Newfoundland are considered to be some of the oldest in the world (in fact several hundred million years older than the Rocky Mountains). The Geo Center, which is actually built into the ground with natural, glacier-scarred rock walls as its actual walls, was an enjoyable attraction. Once again, however, the “informative” parts of this attraction didn’t interest us as much as the offbeat ones:

· In the section on icebergs there was a classic example of how Canadians differ from Americans. Since the Titanic disaster (which occurred off the coast of Newfoundland), there has been a lot of interest in preventing similar accidents, with a special focus on how to prevent icebergs from running into the huge oil drilling platforms that were being built off the Newfoundland coast. The American approach?…drop huge bombs on the icebergs (which apparently “was fun, but totally ineffective”). The “nicer” Canadian approach is to loop a huge rope around the iceberg and then tow it slowly away with two tugboats, while apologizing for taking it off of its intended course. [Somewhat related tangent: we were playing a family game called “Camp” that includes interesting animal facts…after a nice fact about moose antlers, we were hit with this one: In World War II, the Americans tried to train bats to drop bombs for them…I’m not making this stuff up!];

· One of the “interpretive guides”, a proud 3rd year geology student at the local university, was giving a talk on different types of rocks. Her explanation of the layered sedimentary rocks was that, “they formed in layers of old organic matter, rather like a stack of Oreo cookies…a layer of black, then white, then black, then white.” I only got a blank stare back, when I pointed out to her that if they were really like a stack of Oreos than it would be a layer of black, a layer of white, than two layers of black before another layer of white. I guess they don’t teach “oreo analogies” until the 4th year of the Memorial University geology program;

And now some miscellaneous observations from our previous week in Newfoundland:

· They have a provincial park named Dildo here, as well as towns called Blow Me Down and Shag Island…and the Newfoundlanders wonder why people sometimes poke fun at them;

· You have to wonder about your spouse when you go into the store with the sole purpose of buying some salt, and the first product that she picks up is something called “No Salt”. As a corollary, you know you’re in tune with your spouse when she can then take one look at your little smile and correctly deduce, “You $%#!@! You’re going to put that in the %!#$@ blog!!”;

· Signal Hill in Newfoundland’s capital city of St. John’s was pretty impressive with its views over the town and harbour, and for its historical re-enactment of wars gone by;

· We went into a small grocery store in backwoods Newfoundland looking for some luncheon meat. They only had bologna, but 10 different varieties! When Tracy thought she had found another section with luncheon meat, it just turned out to be more bologna, except this time with macaroni and cheese chunks in it….those crazy Newfoundlanders;

· The town of Twillingate (one of the multiple towns we found labeled as “the iceberg capital of the world”), really did have some kick-ass icebergs in their harbour. Apparently there had been one huge iceberg when it first arrived, but it had since broken into smaller, but still very impressive, chunks prior to our arrival. We are now the proud owners of a freezer full of freshly cut iceberg souvenirs. I knew that the axe in the back of the RV would eventually come in handy. And thanks to the drunk guy in the harbour who was peddling iceberg ice and whiskey to Tracy, we now know what to do with it. Apparently, when you put it in a drink, iceberg ice lasts four times as long and you hear it constantly cracking as you drink. Kind of like Viagra meets Rice Krispies;

· Sticking with the “capital of the world” theme, we went into the town of Elliston, which has billed itself the “root cellar capital of the world”. It initially called itself the “root cellar capital of the province”, but when no one questioned that claim (and I ask why would anybody bother?), they got bolder, and claimed global domination. For the record, Elliston has a population of 350 people, and there are 140 root cellars. This might have proven amusing until we found out that these townspeople were double dipping with our tax dollars…receiving government dollars not to fish for cod, and receiving more government grants to restore old root cellars. We only went there for the close up views of the puffins (although I admit, we did stick our head in a root cellar…surprise, it was dark, damp and cool and looked like a root cellar). Incidentally, we missed the Elliston Puffin Festival by one day…damn!!;

· Laura’s quote of the week came after I did something that she deemed to be not so bright. She simply turned to Tracy and with a knowing nod, whispered, “You shouldn’t have married him.” Thanks for that, sweetie;

· Adding to our “checked-off locations”, we visited Cape Spear, the easternmost part of North America. We also stopped in Bonavista, from the famous Canadian song. You know the one… “From Bonavista to Vancouver Island, This land was made for you and me”…check went the pencil, and by the way, seeing more whales and icebergs off of the coast of Bonavista was a bonus;

· Acceding to Laura’s 10th birthday wish, we stayed at an RV park called Funland. She had seen their advertisements for a pool, a water slide, and a petting zoo among other goodies. (Their heavy advertising budget should have been a tip-off to stay away). Upon arrival, we were disappointed to see that you had to pay for absolutely everything including the small pool. In 13 months of travel, this is the first pool that wasn’t included in the price of our stay. The only item that was free, besides the “open concept” design (i.e. you park the RV in a big field), was the view of the lone calf and the lone piglet in the “zoo”. At least it was a chance for a life lesson for the kids;

· I don’t know if they are being sold in Ontario, but I couldn’t resist trying the Doug Gilmour chocolate bars…even better than the moose stew!!

We are now off to the northernmost part of the province, where the Vikings landed 500 years before Christopher Columbus “discovered” North America. More moose stew awaits us at the Viking Feast buffet, and perhaps some bologna…
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1247361719/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1247361719/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1247361719/tpod.html Sat, 11 Jul 2009 21:40:00 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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North Sydney, Nova Scotia, Canada

"If the next blog is just a simple picture of my bloated stomach, you'll know the week is going well…"

So ended the last blog, but that triggered a barrage of e-mail, ranging from the polite, “Thanks, but no thanks…we don’t need that picture to know that your parents are spoiling you”, to the downright nasty, “if you do that, I’ll divorce you!! P.S. Get the $@%! off of the couch and get the RV out of storage! xoxoxo”

You will be pleased to know that we have acquiesced to the wishes of our loyal readers. Despite fully gluttonizing (is that really a word?...the spell checker isn’t underlining it?) myself at both sets of parents we decided to take another direction with the pictures. Instead of a photo of me covered in crumbs and food stains, we’ve used some of Tracy’s favourite pictures from the past year for filler. Of course, this might have more to do with the fact that only a few pictures were taken last week. And those taken would likely be of little interest to the average blog reader. I may be wrong, however…perhaps, like the famous photo of the traumatized Vietnamese girl running naked from the napalm attack, a picture labeled “Kevin trims his nose hairs” could win a Pulitzer Prize.

We quickly discovered we had mixed feelings about being back on home soil. Yes, we were very happy to see family and friends, and yes, it is remarkably comforting to know the local customs and language; but being back home was also unsettling in its “sameness”…the same headlines in the newspaper (“Liberal Party Looking to Regroup”, “Blue Jays Lose Again”, “Stock Market Stagnant”), and the same day to day routine to get prepared for (school, kid’s activities, jobs)…etc., etc., etc.

Best not to dwell on the more mundane aspects of “life”…after all, we still have the East Coast of Canada to explore and enjoy over the next five weeks or so. That being said, our week at home did have a few “blogworthy” moments:

- With some of her birthday gift money, Laura wanted to purchase a new game for her Nintendo. She looked at one that was priced at $20 and asked, “How much is that in Canadian dollars?” I guess the question is understandable since she had asked that exact same foreign exchange question almost every day over the last 12 months. I was about to say that “$20 is $20” but unlike most other countries we visited, the price doesn’t include tax, so I had to revise my answer and say that “$20 equals $22.60”. Welcome home!;

· Tracy and I had interesting dentist appointments. After the requisite cleaning and chastising (“You need to do a better job flossing!!”), the hygienist mentioned to Tracy that she would check to see if the dentist was still there. That’s strange, Tracy thought, as “making a dentist appointment” usually means that you have an appointment to see the dentist (even if it’s only for a few minutes). The hygienist returned and said “The dentist has already left on his vacation, but I think there are no problems with your teeth. If you’re not comfortable with my opinion, you can make another appointment to see the dentist”. The obvious answer would have been that we already made appointments to see the dentist (i.e. “That is why we are here now!!!”), and although Tracy was more diplomatic in her answer, she did let her annoyance be known. Continuing to dig a hole, the hygienist continued, “Oh, would you like me to add a note to your file that when you make a dentist appointment, you would actually like to see the dentist?” Are you kidding? But then the (sugarfree?) icing on the cake came as Tracy was paying, and the good dentist (who apparently hadn’t quite left) walked by, gave her his $10,000 smile, and asked, “How’s everything going with your teeth?” “Isn’t answering that question your job???” Tracy wanted to ask, but instead she just commented that the paraffin wax hand treatment and the warm neck massage pillow were both very nice.

In the whole scheme of life, it’s probably not a big deal, as I’m sure the hygienist is well enough experienced to spot any trouble areas. (Then again, this dentist office has always had an inordinate number of very attractive employees, so perhaps “experience” isn’t high on the qualification list). It just reinforced our previous notions that we need to change to a dentist that is more interested in helping us take care of our teeth, instead of being focused on up-selling all sorts of cosmetic facial surgery. Maybe we should make an appointment at a spa, with the hope that we might see a dentist there instead. The children were disappointed with our planned change, however, as they are going to miss the colourful aquarium and the Xbox in the waiting room…

· I inadvertently started driving on the left hand side of the road three times during our first week back, and Tracy had to literally stop the car at a small traffic circle and ask my mother (who hasn’t driven in 20 years) which way to go. Yes, we are even more messed up than when we left (or is that right?);

· It was just weird having to knock on the door of our own (rented out) house, when we stopped by to pick up some supplies;

· How does “Personal Travel Sabbatical” sound for a 14 month “hole” in my resume?;

· Santa Claus, in his wisdom, had delivered one of Laura’s Christmas presents directly to my parents’ house. I guess he deemed it too bulky for our knapsacks. The gift was the first season of the “Little House on the Prairie” TV series that Tracy and I had grown up watching. I’m not sure what it says about us (or about TV shows today), but watching episode 1 with the kids brought tears to both of us when the good folk of Walnut Creek rallied around Pa Ingles so that he wouldn’t lose his oxen. Sponge Bob has never had the same effect;

Next up was getting our RV, the “Big Zeke”, out of storage. Tracy’s father had been kind enough to take it in for the “emissions test” so we knew it was running (which reminds me I should drop an e-mail to the real Zeke to inquire about his gas emissions…what’s a blog without at least an attempt at gas humour!). We were all very excited to be getting back in the RV as it really can be an enjoyable way to travel. Ignition…check. Interior lights…check. Microwave…check. Furnace…check. Water system…pink stuff coming out of the faucets…doesn’t taste like lemonade and smells like antifreeze. Note to file: flush water system. Secondary coach battery…dead…check the Wal-Mart invoice to discover that there was still two weeks warranty left on the battery. When we took it in, it turned out that the battery would be fine after two days of slow charging, but because that seemed to be an excessive amount of time, the employee just put in a new battery at no cost. Gotta love the Wal-Mart! With a hearty thank you, and a promise to do some future camping in some Wal-Mart parking lots, we were on our way.

Now we just had to decide exactly where to go, considering the East Coast of Canada is a pretty big place. It seemed like a reasonable idea to start as far east as we could go, and work our way back, so that meant Newfoundland would be our first destination. The preferable ferry from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland left at 9pm on Wednesday night, and it was 9am Monday morning…2080 kilometres to travel…we can do that, God willing (or should I say Big Zeke willing)!

Our first day of driving was good. While we did leave 30 minutes later than planned, we sailed through Toronto without delay. And the Big Zeke was like a wild stallion, just wanting to run…“Whoa big fella!” 800 kilometres later and we were well into “la belle province” of Quebec. We wondered how “belle” it actually was, when Tracy called ahead to an RV park and started talking to them in English. “Click” went the line…surely they didn’t hang up because she wasn’t speaking French?!? After a deep breath she called back and started talking French…no problem with the line this time. Hmmm?

Given my lack of abilities in French, my goal was just to get through the province without having to talk to anyone. One stop at the RV park (that Tracy handled), one stop at a self service gas station, and my goal was accomplished (although I did talk to Michael once to tell him not to pour Tabasco sauce on his sisters’ pasta). We have some planned stops in Quebec on the way home so it might become a little more difficult to continue to give this province the silent treatment.

Being on a “road trip” again made us smile. We started seeing the “giant” items again, like the Big Apple in Eastern Ontario and the Big Sled Dog in Quebec (…at least I think it was a sled dog; there were only French signs). Does it seem strange to you that there are more English signs in Syria and Turkey than there are in one of Canada’s biggest provinces? Come to think of it there might be more Canadian flags in those countries as well.

It was also good to be camping again. The Big Zeke was solidly entrenched in a big muddy field at the Quebec RV park. The gas grill fired up much faster than the charcoal ones we had been using the previous seven weeks in Southern Africa. And just to make the experience perfect, the “security” guy drove by in a golf cart wearing his cut off jeans and an undershirt, with a beer in his hand. “Très bien, Dude!” I applauded (to myself, of course).

Another day and a half of driving and we were through the province of Quebec (and New Brunswick and Nova Scotia) and had arrived at the ferry port, a full five hours early. We were actually told to come back a little later, when the traffic from another ferry was gone. This seemed like a good idea at the time as it gave us an opportunity to park the RV and fire up the generator. The high from making power didn’t last however. Upon our return to the ferry dock we were placed in the line that had to wait a full 100 minutes after the “Return to your car as we will commence boarding soon” message, before we actually drove onto the ferry. We were in fact the very last vehicle to board. Borrowing the accounting inventory term of LIFO (“Last In, First Out”), I wondered whether we would be the first ones to de-boat (?) the following morning. Considering we were snuggly tucked in behind a tied down lumber truck and sandwiched between two 35-foot Winnebagos (which caused no shortage of RV envy!), I thought not.

As I’m writing this, we are still on the ferry the following morning. The sleep on the dormitory beds was not too bad, although I did find it difficult to fall asleep after being mocked by my family for the “pillow incident”. When we arrived at our assigned dorm beds, one of them was missing a pillow, which we quickly procured from a neighbouring, but not yet occupied, berth. When the kids wanted to explore the ship I said I would stay back and guard the pillows. What I saw as an act of unselfish and courageous chivalry just caused the rest of the family to shake their heads at my “apparent analness”. But who had the last laugh, you may wonder…I saw at least two people scavenging for pillows, but because of my proactive thinking, the Elop clan could, without a care in the world, rest their heads on some (quasi) fluffy pillows. I proudly felt like Jack Nicholson after his famous rant in “A Few Good Men”, although I suppose protecting pillows from pilfering soccer moms may not be as dramatic as protecting Americans from those nasty commies in Cuba. Regardless, the successful guarding of the pillows has me thinking about a new career in security. I think I’m now ready to don my ripped undershirt and join Jean-Francois in the golf cart at the Quebec RV park. “Budweiser for me, please!”, or should I say, “Un Budweiser pour me, silvo play”.

And now, it’s on to Newfoundland….
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1246360380/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1246360380/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1246360380/tpod.html Tue, 30 Jun 2009 07:58:51 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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London, England, United Kingdom

You may recall that our last blog had a Moses/burning bush biblical theme. I was a bit worried at the time that it (more than any other entry) would result in me being struck down by lightning by a higher power. Thankfully, all is well and we've seen nothing but clear skies in the last week. As I write this, however, we are currently flying over the Atlantic Ocean and much closer to potentially angry lightning bolts. I’ve therefore decided not to tempt fate by flirting with sacrilegious prose today. Flirting with Sophie in seat 21DD is more appropriate anyway…no, scratch that… it’s completely inappropriate, but still fun. [Editor’s note: My husband’s little fantasy world is such a happy place – why spoil it for him…]

Yes, we are currently flying back to the land of real maple syrup, also known as Canada, also known as home. We still have another five weeks of travel throughout Eastern Canada, but we are very excited to be getting back on home soil. After an upcoming five or six days of working through the 100 items or so on our "task list" and getting reacquainted with our families, we will be happily rolling the Big Zeke (i.e. our RV) down the Canadian highways again.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. We still have Southern Africa to close off, as well as five days in the U.K.

The final statistics on South Africa/Namibia include the following:

- 11,500 kilometres driven (compared with 12,500 in Western Canada/Alaska, 7,000 in New Zealand, and 10,000 in Australia);

· 3 flat tires;

· 0 oil changes…oops!;

· [1 slap from Sophie];

· 3 kilograms of Namibian desert sand vacuumed out of our rental car (and 1 kilogram tucked away in our luggage);

· >1,000 wild animals spotted;

· >2,000 wild rocks with ears spotted;

· 30 kilograms of boerewors sausage devoured (with 5 bottles each of mustard, ketchup, and chutney, (and many more bottles of South African wine));

· 5 kilograms added to my waist (see boerewors sausage comment above);

· 50 kilograms of charcoal used (FYI, that’s approximately 47 kilograms more than we had used in our entire life before this trip);

· >200 Kokerboom Trees seen in the Quivertree Forest. The Kokerboom (or “quivertree”) is an iconic (and beautiful) tree in Namibia that doesn’t flower for 30 years, and lives more than 250;

· 1 stop at a police speed trap;

· 1 “bribe” to cut the speeding ticket in half;

· 1 reprimand for paying too much for the bribe… “Dammit man! You’re driving the price up for us locals!!”

· 1 laundry owner pointing to Tracy’s (proudly) hand-painted shirt from Peru and saying, “You have some really nasty stains!!” (Her artistic self-confidence will never be the same…);

· [Update – 2 slaps from Sophie];

· 2 popular South African phrases learned that have no meaning. “Just now” as in “I’ll do that for you just now”. One might suppose the person uttering this phrase is promising to do something for you imminently; but no, apparently “just now” can mean anything from five seconds to two days. The second phrase, “jaa-nee”, literally translates into “yes-no”…if anyone can figure that one out, please let us know.

We can’t close off South Africa without thanking our incredible Johannesburg hosts and outfitters, Heidrun and Laureen (boerewors sausage kilograms #1,2, 27 and 28, and ten hours of US Open golf viewing) again. Life was pretty sweet with them! We also have to thank the Viviers (the friends of my parents, and I’d like to think friends of ours now) for their incredible hospitality and animal spotting tips (and for boerewors sausage kilograms #29 and 30). Travelling is so much easier when there are great people like this willing to help!

Oh, and by the way we managed to do one last game drive in the very scenic Pilanesberg National Park near Sun City, north of Johannesburg. We weren’t expecting too much, and we were pleasantly surprised with an upfront view of a white rhino and her baby…gotta love those game drives!

Next up was our last overnight flight (from Joburg to London), our last argument with a rental car company (“You can tell me all you want to look again, but I’m telling you that your Passat only has 4 seats!”…I smell a free upgrade), and our first opportunity for Tracy to drive on the left hand side of the road…I’m kind of glad that I never learned to drive a manual car! For once it was me “suggesting” to her to stay off the curb!

The “spoiling” we received during our last weekend in South Africa continued in full force in the United Kingdom. We stayed with Ann and Harvey (a cousin of my mother), who went far beyond the call of duty with all the fabulous meals, all the previously untried drinks (Pimms?), and all the previously tried drinks (wine/beer). They even hosted a wonderful BBQ party for us (at which they had the Canadian flag flying high) so we could meet more of our British relatives. “Jolly ho, those Brits are good chappies!” No boerewors sausage, but I commented to Tracy that “the port and cheese plate more than made up for it, jaa-nee?!”

While we did two days of sightseeing in London, our best memories of the UK will be of spending time with Ann and Harvey. We had mentioned to them that one of the things we’d like to do was see a stage show, and before you could say “Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen” […time out, I have an urge to flirt with Sophie again…] we found ourselves, courtesy of Ann and Harvey, dancing in the aisles of the Mamma Mia show…fantastic fun! (but perhaps “un-British” from a decorum perspective).

Other UK memories include:

· The highly excitable tour guide who was standing next to us at Buckingham Palace during the changing of the guard. The guards marched through a gate that was apparently different than normal. The brash tour guide (I won’t mention what country she was from) yelled out, “They’re doing it wrong!!” When I mentioned this to the Queen later in the day, she just laughed and said, “Bloody hell, those commoners”;

· And speaking of bloody… At the Tower of London, it was amusing to find out just how many people had been beheaded there by the “reserved and proper” British. “That King Henry the Eighth was one nasty dude,” I kibitzed with the Queen. “I am not amused,” was her terse reply. I’m not sure what upset her. It’s not like she has ever killed anyone…or has she?!?;

· Going on the “London Eye”…a gigantic ferris wheel type thing, that towers above London, holds 25 people in each of its 32 (10 ton) capsules, and has a circumference of almost ½ a kilometre. Nice views of Big Ben, way down there;

· Shaking our heads at the headlines of the tabloid magazines, “London kills Michael Jackson!!!” His untimely death is clearly a sad event, but the simple fact that he was practicing for a number of London shows is probably not grounds for leveling a murder charge at a city;

· Having cousin Harvey plan out our London sightseeing by the minute. Things are starting to make sense to Tracy with respect to my obsession with time;

There’s not much more to report. We’ve spent most of the last eight days eating, drinking and being spoiled (Yes, global travel is tough!), and as we convalesce with our parents this week, I’m thinking it’s going to continue. If the next blog is just a simple picture of my bloated stomach, you’ll know the week is going well…
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Etosha National Park, Namibia

7. As I picked the cleft jam out of my Charlton Heston-esque chin, the lightning bolt ripped down from the sky, immediately setting the bush ablaze. Before I could react, a booming voice thundered, "Go to the desert, my son! Lead your people into the dunes of Namibia!" I grasped my walking staff in fear, and tightened the tunic around my broad shoulders as the voice from the bush continued, “Oh, you might as well have a little look-see at Namibia's Fish River Canyon on the way there. And weather wise, no need to build an ark…my Namib Desert Doppler is clear for the next 16 months.”

8. A timely message I thought, as Tracy and I were currently debating whether to spend time in Namibia. I took this as a strong vote for “yes”. We had always intended to travel north from Cape Town, South Africa into Namibia, but as we got down to our “week before” planning, we ran into a few snags…financial ones, to be precise. While we had spent CAD$60 a night staying in South Africa’s premier game reserve, a stay in Namibia’s comparable park, Etosha, would set us back CAD$400. That’s a “no-go”, regardless of what the Big Guy says (unless the manna from heaven was also going to include some dough of the spending kind). Apart from the capital city of Windhoek, there did not appear to be an extensive network of backpacker style accommodations. And of course, the “tourist” destinations we had hoped to visit, all seemed to have “premium” accommodation prices. This point was further hammered home when we noticed that all the places listed in our guide book had the word “lodge” in their name…that’s a recipe for expensive!

9. We found out that the standard “discount” travelling methodology is to rent a 4X4 with a tent (or 2) attached to the roof, and just camp. [Note: these “tents” are funky things as you actually sleep on a board on top of the vehicle that extends sideways off of the roof.] Not an attractive option for us, considering that we already had a rental car, and besides these 4X4’s themselves are not cheap (i.e. “starting” at more than CAD$100/day). In addition, the camping fee at Etosha would still be CAD$80. For whatever reason this part of the world seems to be hung up on a “per person per night” rate, regardless of how few beds you use, or how little room you require…this becomes a challenge when there are 5 of you (with #6 on the way)*.

10. Fortunately we had free internet in our Cape Town accommodations, so after much late night surfing, we found one company that had a lodge near the famous Namibian sand dunes, as well as one just outside of Etosha National Park (which were the two main areas we wanted to visit). They had (Namibia’s only?) “children under 13 years old stay free” policy, and despite their clearly stated rule of “absolutely no more than 2 adults and 2 children per safari tent”, we were able to fandangle accommodations without having to lie about our family size. Add in a stay at Fish River Canyon lodge’s “auxiliary camp” (the code name for “abandoned farmhand staff lodgings”), and an overnight stay at the “One Stop Garage” in a place called Aus, and we were good to go.

11. “Good decision!” boomed the bush, “I’ve written some driving directions on these stone tablets…Oh, and have you ever considered joining the NRA?”

12. I suppose I should clarify that the commandments referred to above were actually just a dream. Which reminds me…when I’m home ask me about the dream I had about Nicole Kidman, Jennifer Garner, and a carton of raspberry flavoured whip cream. Some things just aren’t appropriate to include in a blog (at least not on this part of the web)…

13. So, with seven hours to spare before Namibia Decision Deadline 2009 (I kinda borrowed that from CNN’s recent election coverage), we determined that Namibia was a “go”. The trip started out nicely…a pre-dawn departure from Cape Town with the directions of “turn onto the N7 North, my son, and drive for seven to eight hours to the Namibian border.” That works for me.

14. The drive was an uneventful and pleasant one through some scenic agricultural land, rolling hills, some cherubs, and a few small mountains. Within a few kilometres of the border however, it changed drastically, and became very rocky, brown and dusty. It was almost like the South Africans had said, “OK, we’ll take all this rich fertile land, and Namibia, you can have the crappy parched land north of the Orange River.”

15. Educational time out: Our guide book describes Namibia as being “predominately arid”. We don’t have a dictionary with us, but if arid means “dry, sandy and rocky nothingness for as far as one can see”, then the guide book nailed it. That being said, it is still strangely attractive (not unlike a body-pierced “gothic” chick in a bar after you have had four or five drinks).

16. We also learned that Namibia is a young country and only gained independence in 1990. We originally thought that its independence had been from Germany. (In Windhoek, we stayed at the corner of Beethoven Drive and Mozart Street and saw lots of strudel for sale). But no. Apparently the Germans were kicked out in 1915. Adding to the confusion, Windhoek also has a Fidel Castro Street, and another road named after the infamous Zimbabwean leader Robert Mugabe (I bet they’d like a “do over” on that street name), so who knows….I suggest you google, “travel blogs written by people who actually have an interest in history” if you want Namibia’s full historical background.

17. We had the first inklings of potential trouble in Namibia upon arrival at its border “town” that consisted only of a gas station with an out of order ATM. Not so good when you can only buy gas using cash in this part of Africa. Fortunately we still had some South African rand, which is freely accepted in Namibia. The “inklings” turned into a “stream” however, when we made the turn-off for our first stop, the Fish River Canyon. We were still a few hundred kilometres from our destination so I was surprised that the turn-off was on to a gravel road. “Is this right?” I asked my ace navigator (and forgetter of some relevant facts). “Yes,” she replied, “Didn’t I mention that over the next few days we have to drive 600 kilometres on gravel roads, including the “lightly travelled scenic route” we picked out along the edge of the desert?” She probably did mention this fact to me, but the argument is already over so I’m not going to bother to admit it.

18. OK, so here we are heading into the Namibian “outback”, and then into the desert, with a dwindling amount of cash, and a rental car that has a history of flat tires, including one tire that still has a bulbous root “hole patch” sticking out of it. Oh, my aching stress level!

19. Thankfully, we reached our accommodation near the Fish River Canyon without incident, unless you consider almost running over a wild ostrich that cut across the road in front of us (fast! and without signaling) to be an incident. Fortunately, I had just hit yet another gigantic pothole and slowed down, and this allowed one of God’s dumbest creatures to survive another day.

20. As for the Canyon itself, it was pretty nice as far as canyons go, but the drive there was more impressive with the weird, but captivating, landscape (and the ominous carcasses of dead tires). One of our memories will be of talking to the 23 year old German who had just completed the intense 5-day canyon hike (where you literally camp under the stars - as in no tents). It was at that point that I inconspicuously hid my indulgent glass of red wine, tried to look rugged, and said, “If only we didn’t have the children with us…” As we were swapping travelling stories, it dawned on Tracy (unhappily) that this guy was actually much closer in age to our Michael, than he was to us. I’m sensing some 45th birthday blues.

21. But there’s no better tonic for those birthday blues than to spend it in a place that Tracy has wanted to visit for as long as she can remember…the red sand dunes of Sossusvlei, in the Namib Desert. After a few long, dusty drives, interrupted by a surprisingly pleasant overnight stop at the aforementioned One Stop Garage, we arrived at the dune gateway “town” of Sesriem. This was a full metropolis, as it had a camp store as well as a gas station and not 1, but 2, out of order ATMs. By the way, the One Stop Garage did have an ATM of sorts but it charged a commission of 7%...at the time I thought that surely one of the upcoming towns listed on our Namibia map should have an ATM. I now (bitterly) think that maps should not include “towns” unless they have at least two buildings (and a working ATM) in them.

22. Our first order of business in Sesriem was to check the opening time of the National Park. No, scratch that…the first order of business was to get flat tire #3 patched…Arggh!...”Will you take a credit card for that repair?”

23. To be fair, I should point out that the Namibian gravel roads for the most part are not too bad to drive on, but I admit we were getting a little 4X4 envy. Anyway, back to the National Park. The best photographs of the dunes are taken at dawn when the dunes look their “reddest”, and some of the most impressive dunes (i.e. Sossusvlei) are between 40 and 70 kilometres beyond the controlled gate into the park. So into the park office we went to inquire about opening times. For the most part the people we have met on our trip have been very friendly, but not so in this National Park office. We were met there with the icy stare of the Dragon Lady of Sossusvlei.

“Hello Ma’am. Can you please tell us what time the park gate opens,” I pleasantly asked.

“Sunrise! 6:30am! Not a second before!” she answered.

“Can we buy our permit today to save time tomorrow morning?” I politely inquired.

“Not Possible!” she growled.

“If we wanted to get in early because it’s my wife’s birthday…,” I started to ask.

“Not Possible!!!” she almost screamed, this time with flames coming out of her nostrils.

And as I left the park office with a crystal clear understanding of the procedures, I could have sworn I heard the Dragon Lady yell to the next customer in line, “No soup for you!!”

24. So we dutifully showed up at 6:20am to be the first in line for the gate opening. I started to do a slow burn as I watched the clock slowly pass 6:30am and then 6:50 and then 7:15, and still there was no sign of life. The driver of the tour bus in line behind us hopped the gate and went up to the park office down the road. Not wanting to miss anything, I got out of the car and quickly followed suit. After, another 10 minutes the Dragon Lady finally showed up. Unable to hide my impatience any longer, I gripped my bible for comfort, and mentioned to her curtly that the gates should have been opened an hour ago. “Not possible! It’s only 6:27! Gates open at 6:30!” I was about to launch some self-imagined (and erroneous) Western superiority and tell her how wrong she was when a little “maybe there’s a one hour time change between South Africa and Namibia” lightbulb came on in my head. You think we would have noticed the time change during the first four days of our time in Namibia. I guess we were too busy looking for an ATM. I apologized and got out my credit card to pay for the entrance fee…“Not possible! Cash only!!”

25. Despite the little mix-up at the gate, the day was incredible. Memories include:

- The dunes themselves…they are simply amazing to see. Some of these monsters are 70 stories high, and some of them, with the help of the consistent winds, will “travel” more than a kilometer in a year. And with the rich red colour and soft texture, all of them are beautiful to experience in the early morning light;

· Taking a hike into the desert to see Hiddenvlei (note: a “vlei” is a dried out area that used to hold water). At times we were overwhelmed by the sand that was being whipped up by the wind. [To clarify, I said these were “memories”, not necessarily all pleasant ones] This experience made me happy that Moses was the one to really lead his people (endlessly) though the desert and that I could comfortably hop back into my rental chariot a couple of hours after starting out;

· Climbing the dunes…one step forward, and then slip ¾ of a step back! Tracy did however, make it to the top of Dune 45, one of the most photographed dunes in the world…it was only appropriate to spend her 45th birthday on top of Dune 45;

· Great views from the top of Sossusvlei, and witnessing the eerie Dead Vlei and its dead camel thorn trees hinting at more water-full times;

· Enjoying the desert safari tent we stayed in despite the howling wind that made the whole place shake noisily, and despite getting firsthand experience as to how cold the desert gets at night;

· Spending the last of our South African cash on the 4X4 shuttle bus that was required to get through the final 5 kilometres of “road” that was too sandy for a regular car. It was one of our best “take it or leave it” negotiation techniques…even though we were well short of the total amount required, I just held out my wallet, looked pathetic, and said this is all I have. Apparently, it was good enough;

· Breaking out our emergency stash of US$, bending over, and accepting the “current exchange rate minus 15%” offered by one of the nearby luxury lodges. I guess they don’t make enough money gouging tourists with their room rates;

26. The next day in Namibia opened with great promise. No need to talk to the Dragon Lady of Sossusvlei, only a few hundred kilometres more of gravel roads, and a greater than 50% probability of reaching a real town before our cash (and therefore our gas) ran out. Success! The only drama came with the “mountain pass” road that was so steep as to not even allow trucks to use it, never mind just telling them to use low gears. But after that little challenge, we made it back to the main paved highway and cruised through Rehoboth, with its welcoming tagline of “Home to Some Functional ATM’s” (okay, not really). We may have been off the beaten track in Namibia, but 5 days to find an ATM?…that’s not good.

27. As I’m getting long winded (again), I’ll gloss over our stay in the capital city of Windhoek. I have to admit, though, that it was a little weird to have to go through road blocks (manned by scary guys with really dark sunglasses) every time we entered or exited the city. Regardless, Windhoek had a nice “vibe”, some interesting meteorites, and a pleasant game park that you could actually walk through. During our hike there we got a good close up of a zebra carcass…I wondered out loud what killed it and whether that same thing could get us. Feel free to use this technique if you ever want to get your children really nervous while you are walking in the middle of the savannah…Tracy just continues to shake her head at me.

28. Next up was three days at Namibia’s premier game park, Etosha. We have confirmed our love for game drives, as our three days there stretched into four. Highlights included:

· Being the closest we have been to a male lion…mere metres;

· Seeing a swarm of about 45 banded mongeese (mongooses?) literally tripping over each other as they ran along the road;

· Seeing the waterhole madness…hundreds of animals congregating (often multiple species) at the watering holes. This spectacle was different from previous game parks, where the waterholes we saw were, for the most part, deserted;

· Laughing with Laura shortly after we had spotted a lion, when she called out in a sing-song voice to some passing springbok, “You be careful fellas! There’s a lion over there”;

· Seeing the Etosha pan…this huge 4,700 square kilometer shimmering salt pan is mostly dry, but it floods during rainy season. It is so big (and white) that it can be seen from space. As it dries up, the animals (and the predators) move towards the water holes;

· Using some good old-fashioned ingenuity to be able to stay inside the park on our last night. This allowed us to take advantage of the lodge’s floodlit watering hole after sunset. As mentioned above, to stay in this park is very expensive. It gets cheaper however if you book a double room for 1 adult and 1 half price child, and then have the other three people book a much cheaper camp site, set up an imaginary tent, decide it is too cold out, and move into the double room and hope there is enough floor space for the mattresses. Mission accomplished, as the beds were each big enough for two, and there was a sofa that fit Sarah quite nicely. There were only two downsides: 1. It was still the most expensive single night of accommodation in our 12 months of travelling; and 2. the next morning the kids complained about being cold outside when I sent them to pack up the imaginary tent. That being said it was worth it to watch the waterhole spectacle at night…a dozen rhinos, a pack of hyenas, elephants charging a rhino, a rhino charging some zebras... And who knows what it was that spooked the giraffes, but I have never seen them gallop that fast before. Oh, and breakfast was included for the two people in the double room… “Yes sir, I know we have a huge amount of food heaped on our plates, but my boy and I are very hungry. And yes, we are taking it “to go”…we have a game drive to attend to”;

· Being disrespected very early in our first game drive when Tracy said, “Daddy’s in spotting mode already”, and having Michael say, “What, has he already spotted a rock with ears?” It didn’t help that later Tracy dubbed these misidentifications as “Daddy specials”;

29. Yes, there have certainly been no regrets in coming to Namibia. It is an amazing place. The only blight I can think of came when I happily went to bed after our last day at Etosha. The talking bush appeared to me again, but this time he said, “You’ve had your fun in the desert. Go forth, and find yourself a job.”

“Ah, Dude…did you have to ruin it!”

*Not likely…it’s not like Tracy and I have had our own room the last 12 months, never mind our own bed!! Although the way that boil of hers had been growing, I could see where some confusion might creep in.
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Cape Town, Western Cape, South Africa

South Africa is such a land of contrasts...which is this week's excuse for not knowing where to start our current blog of blather. Do I start with the description of more of South Africa's amazing scenery, or with the contrasting visual of Tracy's cherry sized, pus-infused boil? Do I give you an account of the male lion we spotted strutting proudly through Addo Elephant Park, or instead, a narrative on the two million (definitively non-strutting) inhabitants of one of Cape Town's largest townships.

Not because I want to, but to make the attached pictures relevant, I'm going to get the boring "scenic places" out of the way first. Then we'll get into our current misadventures (because no doubt most of you secretly prefer reading about our misfortunes anyway).

After Kruger National Park, we drove due south for nine hours to hike through Royal Natal (a scenic part of the Drakensburg Mountains). We then continued south through the stunning Golden Gate Highlands National Park on another 10 hour drive, this time to Addo Elephant Park (for more game drives). Next was a trip along the southern coast (including the famous Garden Route), while enjoying Tsitsikamma National Park (spectacular, pounding waves), beautiful Plettenberg Bay (including witnessing a wild dolphin do a backflip), and Wilderness National Park (yet another different, but thoroughly enjoyable, side of South Africa). So how's that?...I just summarized two weeks and a few thousand kilometres of South Africa, and all the related "gushing" in less than 100 words. And believe me, we could gush about South Africa for the whole blog, but then you wouldn't get to read about chakalaka and pus...stay tuned, that was just a "teaser".

Yes, we have been doing a fair bit of driving, and it has not been without its drama. Specifically, the problems we encountered on our way to Addo Elephant Park. We left Royal Natal at 5:30am because, in order to meet Addo Park's sunset gate closing time of 5:30pm, we needed to complete a (fast-paced) 10.5 hour drive...this allowed a nice 1.5 hour cushion for any unexpected surprises. Like inclement weather, for example. Our overly excitable rental car was nice enough to sound the alarm that the early morning 3 degrees Celsius temperature in the Drakensburg Mountains, was in fact cold enough for snow. I wish our car was less concerned about being a half-assed meteorologist (...like duh, you need some moisture to go with that cold weather!) and more concerned about certain aspects of its own performance...like not blowing tires. But no such luck, as that small explosion sound from the back of the car was not the chili-induced, "Excuse me if that was me" smelly kind, but rather the sound of the tire blowing.

I've changed plenty of tires in my time, but I have to say this one was a little more difficult - the fully packed trunk, the hidden wheel nuts, the time pressures, and the just plain weird car jack all contributed. I'm sure that not wanting to be stranded in the middle of South Africa as night fell helped spur me on to success. In my haste to get restarted, we had an "Oops, we almost lost Michael moment" as I actually started driving away without him...apparently he didn't hear Tracy sound the call for the kids to get back in the car. Interestingly enough, it was his sisters who, after a brief debate, let us know that Michael was still up in a tree he had climbed. We crossed our fingers that a second tire wouldn't blow, and made it into Addo Elephant Park with 20 minutes to spare. Ultimately our time pressures were fictional, as it turned out we could have checked into our cabin at any time of the day or night. It would have been more impressive had the car clarified this little fact for us, instead of providing us with irrelevant weather trivia.

Our car "issues" continued the next day as immediately after our early morning game drive, I noticed we had a second flat tire. 5 minutes and 37 seconds later, however, that tire was off and I was flipping the tire iron into the trunk, like a freshly fired six shooter back into its holster. "Very impressive Quick Draw!" cackled* my admiring wife, "but given that our other tire is flat, what are you going to replace it with?" "Hmmm...good point!" I admitted to myself.

[*in case my subtlety is lost on you, I used the word "cackle" to remind you of Tracy's witch-like, boil.]

Thankfully, just then Johnny Park Ranger happened along and took me, and my tire, to "maintenance". While I consider myself an environmental kind of guy, their "natural fix" did catch me by surprise. After finding the hole in the tire, they enlarged it with an awl, and then stuck some sort of burning bulbous root into the hole. "All fixed...No official charge!" said the ranger and the gas station guy as they stuck out their hands for a tip. "30 Rand for everyone!" I gleefully agreed. About 30 minutes later the car rental company guy showed up with a replacement tire for the one that had blown the previous day. He also confirmed that the magic smoking root was in fact the answer to all of life's problems, including being an accepted way to patch a tire in South Africa. Who knew? (and two weeks later that tire seems as good as new!)

And just to close off Addo Elephant Park, while it is no Kruger National Park, we thoroughly enjoyed it. The game drives were once again successful and we saw some animals we had not previously seen, such as the black backed jackal, the red hartebeest, wild ostrich, and yellow mongoose. And, of course, there were a boatload of elephants, including the cute babies that were chasing warthogs just for fun. The highlight though was on our final game drive, as we came upon a majestic male lion. Amazing to see in the wild! (Okay, so I still needed to do a little more gushing).

The "natural" way of fixing a tire, got us thinking about the other aspects of South Africa that seem a little different than what we are used to. Specifically:

- At one of the natural parks we purchased a few cans of Chakalaka (a vegetable curry type thing) for lunch. The strange aspect of this dish was that it was labeled "Mild and Spicy". In the rest of the world, "mild" and "spicy" are opposites but apparently not so in South Africa, as we have seen numerous items labeled in this manner;

· After our daily BBQ's, we decided it would be nice to use the hot charcoal to roast marshmallows. A trip to the grocery store resulted in a dizzying array of flavoured marshmallows, including light brown Cappuccino and dark brown Espresso. Strangely, there were no plain white ones...perhaps it's some sort of reverse apartheid retribution thing;

· And then there's the game of "What the $@!%$! Does This Sign Mean?" We came across 'Exhibit A', and were completely flummoxed. To set the stage, we came upon this sign just before we went across a narrow one-lane bridge. It took us three days before we figured it out, and only then because we saw the sign in a completely different context. If you immediately know what this sign means you will have confirmed that the entire Elop clan is, indeed, not all that swift.

And speaking of swift, did you know that ostriches can run at 80km/hr? [How's that for a segue!] We were ostrich virgins (from a knowledge perspective, that is) until we made a trip to Oudtshoorn, the ostrich capital of the world. At a visit to a local ostrich farm we learned many other completely irrelevant ostrich facts that we thought we'd share with you (go ahead and throw them into your next dinner party conversations if you wish):

· One ostrich eyeball alone is bigger than the ostrich's brain. That would help explain why the ostriches we saw kept pecking at their shiny wire fence. We were told they do it for no other reason except that the wire is shiny...perhaps tomorrow it will be tasty(?);

· These birds of little brain will keep laying eggs as long as there is between one and 16 eggs in their nest. They don't clue in to the fact that the farmers keep stealing all but one of their eggs, just so they will keep laying;

· The ostrich characteristic of having only two toes indicates that it is a flightless bird, as no bird with less than four toes can fly. In fact the ostrich is in the same scientific family as another one of our favourite "evolutionary challenged" birds that never got around to flying, the kiwi bird;

· One ostrich egg (which, btw, can support a person's weight) will make one monster omelet (or "quiche" for you male readers who are comfortable with their masculinity), as it is equivalent to 24 chicken eggs;

· One kilogram of ostrich feathers used to be worth more than one kilogram of gold, but that was in a day when ostrich feathers in hats were considered fashionable (beyond the ones stuck in beer-stained Oktoberfest hats);

· You can ride ostriches, as Michael and Tracy successfully did. If you do not believe me, they will proudly show you the "official ostrich driving licenses" that they received in recognition of this feat...so why am I still doing all the driving?;

And speaking of animals and driving, we noticed that on our drive to Cape Town we were going to travel right past Bontebok National Park. What kind of animals can one see in Bontebok National Park, you may ask? Why, the rare and endangered bontebok, of course. So, we whipped out our Wildcard (which provides us free access to all of South Africa's national parks, and has now been used on 20 occasions), and headed in for an unscheduled two hour game drive. Success!...more new animals. We saw a handful of bonteboks, the Cape Mountain Zebra (not to be confused with the Burchell's Zebra), and a rhebok...who even knew these animals existed? And for good measure, we saw a black-shouldered kite, and surprisingly, a snow capped mountain. Maybe our car's "weather spidey senses" aren't so bad after all.

So, after the bonus game drive, it was on to Cape Town, where we received our first continual bad weather since Australia...7 days of dreary damp weather to be precise. One lady told us that Cape Town weather is like a woman. While I was contemplating how it was possible for weather to be moody, manipulative, and bad with maps, she went on to say that Cape Town weather could never make up its mind. "Oh, I get it now," I said, as I smiled sweetly at my wife. Highlights of Cape Town included:

· A day trip to nearby Stellenbosch, South Africa's premier wine producing region...need I say more? [Parenting note: Nintendo DS's are a perfectly acceptable form of distraction for children while their parents are indulging in multiple wine tastings (that is except for little Sarah, who seems to quite enjoy sampling wine... "Mommy, this is better than church, cause I got more than one type of wine, and the bread tastes better!")]

· Enjoying the requisite good Table Mountain views (during the few minutes of sunshine we experienced one afternoon);

· On the drive into town, we saw the most magnificent rainbow we have ever seen...even better than the last "most magnificent rainbow ever" we saw in Alaska;

· Seeing the cute African Penguins in Boulders Bay on our drive to the Cape of Good Hope. They used to be called Jackass Penguins (because their call is exactly like that of a donkey) but apparently political correctness has reached the Animal Kingdom as well...hence the name change;

· Learning more about apartheid through visits to the Nelson Mandela museum, and to Robben Island, where he was incarcerated for 18 years;

· Taking a tour of Cape Town's impoverished townships. After being assured that the residents don't mind white tourists (because of the money that gets brought in), we spent a half day learning about the injustices heaped on the Africans, and feeling guilty about it, even though we had nothing to do with it;

· Visiting GAPA ("Grandmothers Against Poverty and Aids") in the townships and proudly seeing a Canadian flag displayed. A large portion of the funding for this organization comes from Canada's own Stephen Lewis Foundation and the director there informed us that without Canada, there would be no GAPA;

· Hearing our driver repeatedly, and angrily, refer to the aggressive township taxi drivers as "cockroaches!!"...if you've seen the movie Scarface, picture Al Pacino saying the same thing. Fortunately, unlike Al, our driver wasn't packing a gun (...at least not one that we noticed);

· And staying with the social commentary, while we have seen poverty in many countries, never have we seen such a contrast as in South Africa. By that I mean, seeing affluent neighbourhoods literally 100 metres away from some of the worst ramshackle shanty towns (Oh, I mean "informal settlements") imaginable. That being said, it was quite noticeable how many new government-funded houses have been built to replace the shacks (although these new houses are still tiny, at least they have electricity and plumbing). Unfortunately we were told there is a backlog of 2 million that are still to be built;

· And speaking of affluence, we enjoyed going to an upscale mall and indulging in Woza Wednesday at the movie theatre. In Canadian terms, "Woza Wednesday" is analogous to $2 Tuesdays (except it was on Wednesdays and all the movies cost CAD$2.14, but "$2.14 Wednesdays" doesn't have a great marketing ring to it). We took in two movies, sandwiched around Tracy having a surgical procedure done on her then walnut-sized, pus-infused boil. The "golden yellow" popcorn topping somehow didn't seem as appetizing after that. Time will tell whether it was a good idea to have this "boil removal" technique done at a local South African mall. In looking at the big gaping hole that remains in Tracy's underarm, I'm wondering whether it would now make sense to take her to the garage, and have the hole filled with one of those smoking bulbous roots;

And to close off on this rambling blog, a few miscellaneous comments:

· If you need to get an idea of the capability of South African drivers, I give you the example of the car driving next to me in Cape Town. While daydreaming about a gemsbok (I haven't seen one of these beautiful antelope yet), I might have drifted out of my lane. The driver next to me, a lady no less, was able to honk at me while simultaneously talking on her cellphone and smoking. I was too startled to notice whether she was also applying makeup;

· While hiking in Royal Natal we passed many ladies walking down the mountain, carrying huge bundles of ferns on their heads. Tracy, to the delight to the Africans watching, tried to pick up one of the heavy bundles. If I had to guess at what one of the ladies said in Afrikaans that was greeted with a chorus of laughter, it was something like, "skinny little white runt doesn't deserve a bull stud like that";

· We had a second "Oops, we almost lost Michael moment"...this is getting to be a bad habit. As alluded to above, Tsitsikamma National Park has some amazing rocky shoreline to go along with its pounding surf. In one of those "because it is there" moments, Michael decided to try to get to a rocky outcropping without getting a soaker. No sooner had he gotten there when Mother Nature decided to start throwing some freakishly large waves at the surrounding rocks, including one that went right over Michael's previously taken path. It would have surely knocked him over. This provided us with a few tense moments (especially because there was no nearby mall (or garage) to take an injured person to). Fortunately the waves subsided, and Michael was able to safely return [Note: for clarity, I didn't have that NASCAR race spectator, "pass me another beer while I wait for the car wreck" attitude, as I had seriously started considering thinking about formulating a rescue plan.];

· And just to be sure you understand we are placing all of our children at equal risk, we went on a hike at Robberg National Park during our stop in beautiful Plettenberg Bay. On a "never to be allowed in the United States for fear of a lawsuit" hiking trail, we had to scramble along some cliff side rocks that were perilously sloped towards the churning ocean below. It didn't help that they were slippery from yet more pounding surf...nice scenery though;

· And speaking of Plettenberg, you may recall our Johannesburg friend/hostess/travel outfitter Heidrun. Her parents live in 'Plett' and we had arranged to take them out to dinner to thank them for using their time share points to book our Cape Town accommodations. A delicious meal, great company and lots of laughs. And before we knew what hit us, we were cleverly manipulated into not even being allowed to pay...it's true, those Germans are smarter than us! And, Tracy's been raving about her steak ever since...

· In the kitchens of one of the backpacker places we stayed in, they had the gas burner propped up by a small can of oil...that can't be safe, can it?

· Over the last 12 months we thought we had used all modes of transportation, but we got to try a new one. While on a hike in Wilderness National Park, we had to cross a river on a pontoon raft that was propelled (by us) using cables and pulleys. Too much work...I'll take a bridge, instead of a little adventure any day!

Well that's it for now. My apologies for a disjointed blog entry, but that's what happens when you fall behind and try to bundle 3 weeks into one entry. And I suppose it doesn't help my concentration to hear Tracy stirring a cauldron in the kitchen while muttering "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble....
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1242594360/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1242594360/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/elopfamily/1/1242594360/tpod.html Fri, 29 May 2009 17:56:09 -0400 14 Month "Field Trip" With The Kids!

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Kruger National Park, South Africa

Heffalumps and woozles!! Heffalumps and woozles!! That was the children's excited cry from the back of the Lion Seeker 2000 Safari Vehicle (also known as our rental car) each time we spotted yet another previously unknown animal in Kruger National Park (South Africa's premier wildlife reserve). But unlike the HAWS* induced psychedelic dreams of E.H. Milne's slothful, quasi-communistic Comrade Winnie, these animals were real. [Editor's Note: Personally, I think Kevin has erred in his analysis of Winnie the Pooh; surely if he were a communist he would have gladly been sharing his honey with all the other animals in the Hundred Acre Woods...].

Before I get into the magic of Kruger, I should mention our drive there, and our stop in Graskop. If you recall from our last blog, I had just played a little payola game (with a somewhat corrupt policeman) of "let's make this speeding ticket go away". This had left us all feeling a little unsettled. Our stress didn't abate, as shortly after this indiscretion (or depending on your point of view, a clever money management technique), the car started beeping and flashing. Obviously driving a Saturn for the past 12 years (replete with manual locks and manual windows) didn't adequately prepare me for life in the real world. The only warning lights I was used to were the ones indicating that the car was about to leave me stranded on the side of the road. Fortunately, we discovered that the flashing message was just a reminder that we had driven more than two hours without a break. The beeping was a reminder that the car had reached a speed of 120 km/hr (and just where was that little reminder prior to the speed trap, I wonder???). Personally, I don't think it's any of Mr. Audi's business how fast or how long I drive. My retaliatory response of intentionally driving with the parking brake engaged was, however, admittedly childish.

Shortly thereafter we reached Graskop, our base for the next two nights. As we are discovering, South Africa has much more to offer than just wildlife (and a questionable reputation lingering from apartheid). [Educational Tidbit: In certain respects, the imposed international embargos during apartheid helped strengthen South Africa, as it forced a level of self sufficiency not seen in a lot of countries]. For the next day and a half, we explored the nearby, and very scenic, Blyde River Canyon area. This included such gems as God's Window, the weird Bourke's Luck Potholes, the Pinnacle, and the Berlin and Lisbon Falls. The beautiful scenery was enhanced by the early morning mists that would drift through, often below our vantage point.

And speaking of early mornings, we need to fess up about another little indiscretion. Consider the following facts:
i) Our internal clocks were messed up from the recent six hour time change coming in from Hong Kong;
ii) South Africa has some amazing sunrises;
iii) The best safari game viewing is in the very early morning; and
iv) The children are not terribly in tune with time, other than reading the time on their watches.
I'm sure you'll agree that the clever time manipulation strategy Tracy and I decided to employ was fully justified. Instead of moving our watches back the required six hours after Hong Kong, we decided to only move them back four hours. This was done, of course, unbeknownst to the children. So when the alarm went off at 5:00am for an early scenic drive around Graskop, the children thought it was 7:00am. Funny enough, it tricked Tracy and me as well, and made getting up for those very early morning game drives much easier...Ah, yes, the early morning game drives and Kruger National Park...where do I begin?

Averaging 65 kilometres across and 350 kilometres from top to bottom, this amazing protected park is huge; our guide book pointed out that it is the same size as Israel. Unlike Israel, however, the violence at Kruger is less political and more the old-fashioned kind...lion gets hungry, lion kills antelope, lion feasts on raw meat. Besides the teeming wildlife, and the natural beauty of the surroundings, the attraction of this park (like it needs anything else!) is its accessibility. It has numerous overnight rest camps throughout the park, and with the gravel and tarred roads, you can do self-drive safaris (although it is prohibited to leave your car until you are in the fenced-in confines of the rest camps...something about "management" not wanting the parks guests being eaten by dangerous predators!)

We had booked accommodation at four different rest camps in Kruger at an average price of CAD$60 a night. This wasn't the top of the line but it got us four comfortable beds in either a safari tent (think large army style tent) or a small cabin, both with electricity and a refrigerator. Athough lacking in any source of heat, they were more than sufficient for our needs. And in our favorite camp, Tamboti, we were isolated from other residents, and overlooked a dry river bed, which, judging from the footprints, was a major thoroughfare for animals. With minimal light pollution, a clear cold night, about a zillion stars, and the sounds of heffalumps echoing in the night, it couldn't get any better! And, I haven't even gushed about the animals we encountered yet!!

We fell into a pretty nice routine while we were at Kruger. The alarm would go off at 4:30am (6:30am under K&T Standard Tricking Time), I'd give myself a scratch [Editor's comment: Too much information!] and we would be dressed, packed and ready to go by 5:15. We would then drive to the rest camp gate, hoping to be first in line to leave when the gates opened at 6:00. The goal was to be the first to drive down the park's paved roads, as these roads often attract the major predators, who like to lie on the warmth of the tarmac in the cool early mornings. (My parents' friends from South Africa, Louvain and Poen Vivier, gave us this invaluable advice - Thank you!)

After a three or four hour game drive we would pull into one of the rest camps for a bio break. We would then head out for another two or three hour safari drive before ending up at that day's reserved rest camp. After a few hours of down time at the camp, we would head back out for a late afternoon game drive (also "prime time" viewing) before we had to be gated and locked securely back into our rest camp at 5:30pm (also known as sunset...keep in mind it's winter down here).

Then it would be time to fire up the charcoal grill (locally known as a braii), and cook up some potatoes, onions and sausages. After animatedly talking about the day's spotting and looking at the photos taken, it was off to bed so the process could be repeated the next day. (To change things up I would sometimes give myself a scratch or two before I went to bed, too. [Editor: Exasperated sigh])

And now, on to the animals. Simply put, we saw everything we had hoped to see, and more!...lions, leopards, cheetahs, rhinos, elephants, buffalo, warthogs, wildebeests, zebras, hyenas, giraffes, hippos, impalas, kudos, numerous other antelope varieties, and on and on. And birds, birds and more birds. It was fantastic, and this experience has now surpassed Australia's Great Barrier Reef as my favourite attraction of our entire 14 month trip. The highlights of Kruger include the following:

· While some of you may be skeptical about actually lining up to be the first out of the rest camp at 6am in the morning, it allowed us to hit the jackpot. After driving for about 25 minutes one morning without seeing another soul, we came around a bend, and there in front of us were three lions devouring their fresh kill. We were able to sit less than 5 metres away from the lions while they feasted on the carcass. The blood was flying, but what I will remember most is the sound of the bones being crunched while they chewed. After about 20 minutes, they casually strolled off into the bush...simply amazing to see (and hear). Make sure you double click to enlarge Tracy's pictures so you can see the blood on the lion, and the animal hoof remains under her paw (In case you're interested, we referred to our new mammal identification book out and decided this poor little feast used to be a nyala);

· Continuing our drive that same morning, and coming across a pair of cheetahs, casually basking themselves in the early morning sun. This spotting was the result of seeing three or four other cars stopped down a dirt road. We learned quickly that multiple stopped cars usually means something good, and we are not above "using" other people to spot the animals;

· And just to top that morning off, we also come across a couple hyenas. A fresh lion kill, hyenas and cheetahs, all by 7:00am...you just know it's going to be a good day!

· The sunrises were beautiful - brilliant orange cloudless skies;

· The quote of the week belonged to Laura, who, upon spotting a particularly testosterone filled zebra, excitedly said, "That must be a boy zebra because it is clearly penis-y!" Tracy likes this one and has vowed to use it whenever I am having a particularly "male" moment;

· While we figured we had seen every one of the 150,000 impala in the park, it was still a thrill to come across two males engaged in a fight....ramming horns and everything! Apparently they were arguing over whether it's possible to include too many nature pictures in a blog...no, wait, that was Tracy and me;

· Perhaps not such a thrill for the children was the lack of liquids we gave them with breakfast before the early morning game drives. These rest camps aren't all that close together, and, as mentioned above, you can't get out of your vehicle;

· As we strained to spot animals, it was amazing how many rocks and stumps hidden in the bush appeared to have ears and/or leopard spots. My personal favourite "mistaken identity" was thinking we could see an animal far up the road in front of us, only to discover it was another large pile of elephant dung. By the way, you must avoid driving over the dung because the endangered dung beetle lays its eggs there...the signs at the park gate indicate that the dung beetles have the right of way. Seriously. I didn't make it up!;

· The last day's game drive was every bit as exciting as the first day's drive. And every day we saw animals that we hadn't previously encountered. This included "Hawkeye" Tracy spotting a porcupine and a mongoose family. For clarity, this was two separate spottings, as most animals don't seem to like hanging out with ol' needle back;

· Even in the secure camps at night we were visited by animals. The first night it was the not so shy bushbabies, who wasted no time in licking the dinner plates we had carelessly left unattended for two minutes. The second night it was the cat-like, large spotted genet...it may have been cute, but it sure wasn't purring!;

· It was also somewhat amusing that one late afternoon we had driven for more than an hour without seeing another car, and then we came around a bend and suddenly found ourselves in a leopard-jam...we became boxed in by six or seven vehicles (including a Kruger safari truck) all stopped and snapping photos of the dot on the horizon that was allegedly a leopard. My "Are you sure that lump is not just the after effects of an Elephant having eaten Mexican last night?" question to the neighbouring safari guide didn't go over very well. Neither did my offer to show him one of Tracy's pictures of a leopard we had seen earlier in the day just metres from our car...I mean our Lion Seeker 2000 Safari Vehicle. And speaking of blocked roads, on one occasion we found ourselves stopped by a herd of passing buffalo; on another occasion it was a herd of elephant...that's our kind of traffic jam!

· Even the daily use of a charcoal grill was kind of fun, though it was a little more time consuming than our beloved Weber gas grill at home. Showcasing South African ingenuity, a few camps sold something that should be dubbed the instant BBQ. It was charcoal, wrapped in newspaper, and put into a small slatted crate made out of kindling (with an attached piece of twine for carrying). Just put the crate in the grill, light the newspaper, and in 30 minutes, the grill is ready for cooking;

· And speaking of cooking, the sausage we have been grilling almost daily is called boerwors. The special ingredients seem to be cloves and coriander...Man, it's good!! And it probably tastes even better when you are hearing hippos bellowing, and hyenas yipping, (hopefully!) just somewhere beyond the encampment fences in the darkness;

· It was wonderful to spend the last 20 minutes of daylight one day at the Sunset Dam outside the Lower Sabie rest camp (another great tip from the Viviers). We got to watch the 20 or 30 hippos that were hanging out there. Educational point: Of all the animals in Africa, who would have thought that it is the "docile looking" hippo that kills the most humans;

· Despite the eight to ten hours of game drives a day (and the pre-dawn awakening, and the rationed liquids), the kids held up great. While I would be lying to say they were fully engaged the whole time, they did get suitably excited when there was game to be seen. And they faithfully marked off the animals on their checklists, and leafed through our mammal and bird books to help with the identifications. It probably helped that we incorporated a daily "trifecta" into their African Wildlife home schooling segment. If they could spot three predetermined animals in a day, they would earn a bag of chips to share. One sample trifecta was, 1. A warthog running with is tail pointed up in alarm, 2. One of the Big 5 animals (i.e. lion, rhino, buffalo, elephant, leopard), and 3. A previously unseen type of antelope. The daily trifectas morphed into other opportunities to earn bags of chips: any lion spotting would earn them one bag of chips, a leopard lounging in a tree with a fresh kill would result in five bags, and spotting the previously undiscovered albino cheetah would earn them 100 bags of chips (and likely the naming rights to this new species);

· It wasn't just the animals that kept our interest. The variety of birds here is amazing. At the risk of being mocked by my hockey buddies at home, I am willing to admit that for the last 10 days in South Africa, I have become a certified "bird watcher". In Kruger alone, Tracy and I identified (for the most part correctly, we think) close to 50 different birds. Sometimes, the mammals and birds would intersect, such as in the case of the oxpecker bird that eats ticks from the ears of impalas, giraffes and rhinos;

· And just to add a little drama...Our last night at Kruger was spent at the very southern tip of the park in the Malelane camp. Shortly after our meal of, you guessed it, boerwors sausages, we came outside and saw (and clearly heard) a huge wall of flames. Remembering that we were actually locked into our rest camp (for our own protection!?!), I was contemplating panicking, while I pictured the headline, "Bushfire at Malelane Kills Bird Watching Aficionados!!" My heartbeat slowed down somewhat, however, when someone ran towards the fire, and said, "Wow, look at that. Isn't it fantastic!" Apparently, just outside the park boundary there are fields of sugarcane. Just before harvesting, all the superfluous leaves are burned off, to make the harvesting of the sugarcane easier...if I had only known, I could have avoided having to wash my underwear;

So that's it for Kruger, a simply amazing place. We might have gone a little overboard on the pictures with this blog, but it is such a special place we couldn't help it (and Tracy won the argument).

After leaving Kruger, we had a 9 hour drive to our next destination, Royal Natal, which is part of the Drakensburg Mountains. So what clever thing did we do to prepare for this long drive? Why, we did another early morning three hour game drive in Kruger before starting out, of course. Yes, we really loved this place...

* Honey Addiction Withdrawal Syndrome

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Johannesburg, South Africa

So here we are sitting in blogging purgatory. We have now been in South Africa for a full two weeks (and having a fantastic time!). When I looked at the last blog I wrote however, it ends with us just arriving in Hong Kong...methinks we are a little behind schedule with our blogging! Nothing a little time warp won't fix...

...Picture some fuzzy time warp lines now...

"Hey round-eyes!! Get moving...get out of my way!!"... "Wow, look at how tall The Kev is!!" Yes, that was our welcome to Hong Kong...millions of short people scurrying around us in a hurry, muttering in Cantonese. I'm not entirely sure of the above translations, but they sound plausible to me.

After arriving in Hong Kong, we were pleased with the ease with which we passed through immigration and the "swine flu pandemic" panic station. [Do you still remember that latest "world-ending" disaster?]. The good times continued with the procurement of our Octopus public transit cards (securing us prepaid (and discounted!) access to Hong Kong's buses, subways and trains). Those eight-legged babies could even be used to buy snacks at the local 7-11 store (and allegedly to buy "girlfriends" at the local karaoke bar). We then easily found the correct bus to drop us at the Kowloon flop house...the Cosmic Guest House to be precise... that we would call home for the next six days.

The only hiccup came at check in. We had "reserved" a room that had a double bed and two singles for the week, but our room was not available because the current occupants had decided to stay an extra day...why they don't have to move to another room is beyond me. Anyway, we were marched up from the 12th floor of the Mirador Mansion to a dingy dorm room on the 14th floor, where we spent the first night. [Editor's note: Calling this somewhat decrepit building a "mansion" is a misnomer if ever there was one. To be fair, it's at least being renovated (see photo). Well, we hoped it was being renovated and that the bamboo scaffolding wasn't all that was holding the building up].

If you're wondering why we were staying in a decrepit firetrap in Hong Kong, it was solely a function of cost. Hong Kong is expensive, so I was happy to find accommodation for the five of us for CAD$60. I should also point out that when we did move into our reserved room, it was very clean. But to call it a "room" might be an exaggeration. It was more like a glorified hallway; the "double" bed (which was really a slightly oversized twin bed) was wedged between the two side walls, so you had to enter it from the end of the bed (after squeezing past the small single bed in front of it). It also had a bathroom that was so small that the shower head was installed over the top of the toilet which in turn had 30 cm or so between it and the far wall...it might have been easier to just have taken a bath in the toilet bowl itself. But did I mention that it was clean?...I suppose it helps that the toilet bowl takes a shower every day. And you couldn't beat the location. Besides, we had full days out and about in Hong Kong, so we didn't use the room for anything except sleeping (and wondering how many fire code and health code violations the "mansion" contained...especially the Indian and Pakistani restaurants on the lower floors).

We thoroughly enjoyed our time in Hong Kong. It is such a vibrant, colourful and exciting city. Topping the children's memories was a trip to Hong Kong Disneyland. The visit was solely for educational purposes, of course, as we wanted to compare it to Disneyland in France and Florida. We can report that everything is smaller here, from the park itself (which can be done in day), to the Lion King Show, to the Disney characters, and to their only roller coaster, Space Mountain. Walt had to "tame" this thrill ride in order to lower the height restriction, otherwise 75% of their target audience would be left cursing Mickey, as they would be too short to ride it. This delighted Sarah as she was finally "tall" enough to ride (unlike in Florida and France). And ride it she did...eight times to be exact, along with Laura and Tracy. It helped that the park was quite empty, so there was never a line up. Michael and I put our non-Space Mountain time to good use as well, shooting lasers at the evil Emperor Zurg on the Buzz Lightyear ride. For the record, Michael beat me 5 to 3, but I was distracted by the intriguing thought of being able to have a bowel movement at the same time as I showered.

And to answer the question that is on everyone's mind, while the High School Musical cast singers were Asian (so it is unlikely they were actually from the movie's New Mexico school), all the Disney princesses were Caucasian, except Ariel, who was, of course, mermaidian. No more fantasies about an Asian Sleeping Beauty for me...damn!!

The other amusing difference at this Disneyland was the sign in front of all attractions indicating that all passengers must be sober to ride. Even the Dumbo ride, popular for younger kids, had such a sign. Maybe it's a cultural thing, but I don't think it's necessary to have reminders about not getting sloshed while at an amusement park with your 5 year old.

We also had to visit Hong Kong's other amusement park, Ocean Park. I say we "had to visit" because earlier itineraries included spending a week or two in mainland China where we promised Michael he could see his favourite animal, the Giant Panda. Well, in one of those tough choices, we swapped:

(a) A visit to the Great Wall of China and seeing pandas in a Beijing zoo, for
(b) Seeing pandas in a Hong Kong amusement park zoo and enjoying some rides.

Yes, travelling is tough. It goes without saying that the pandas were amazing to see, but the rest of the park was a little too weird for my liking. It had some very neat animal exhibits (like the bizarre goldfish room, and the psychedelic jelly fish exhibit (which must have been sponsored by Pink Floyd)). But the whole park was built on a mountainside, with the two main areas separated by a lengthy gondola ride from one side of the mountain to the other.

And no, we didn't spend our whole time in Hong Kong, visiting amusement parks. Other highlights included:

· Riding the Star Ferry across the Hong Kong harbour at night and watching the daily light show emanating from the huge office towers on the Hong Kong island side of the harbour...it's pretty special, but hard to describe;

· Completing a walking tour of Kowloon that took us through places we haven't seen anywhere else on our trip: The Bird Market, The Flower Market (filled with beautiful orchids, that look much better than my dead ones ever did), and The Jade Market. The stalls in the Bird Market selling all kinds of wiggly, slimy, live bird food were particularly interesting (in a gross kind of way);

· Enjoying "free museum" Wednesday. We visited the very interactive and fun Science Museum, (where Laura's head was served up on a platter), and the Heritage Museum (where the children got to dress up like Cantonese opera stars). The latter seemed to amuse some of the locals to no end. We also checked out the Art Museum to show the kids some Ming Dynasty Vases (homeschooling at its best!). And because it was free Wednesday, I didn't even have to feel guilty about getting bored quickly and convincing Tracy to leave early (after using the free internet to check hockey scores, that is) [Editor's note: The Kev is officially out of the running in the hockey pool (yet again), but also safely out of last place];

· Walking up more than 400 steps to see the Temple of the 10,000 Buddhas (which really does contain more than 10,000 Buddhas). It was particularly "enjoyable" to listen to the kids complain about the uphill climb. The moment was even sweeter because this excursion was, in fact, Laura's idea (We don't think she really considered the 400 steps when she suggested it as a must-see activity);

· Spending a day enjoying Hong Kong Island. This included riding the series of escalators up to the Mid Levels. It's hard to capture in a photo, but it is fascinating to see kilometers of covered escalators being used as a daily commuting method for thousands of locals. We also played our role of "small town folk go to the big city" as we stood around and gawked up at all the tall buildings;

· Dodging the umbrellas...while loyal readers, Mike and Renate (who we met in North Pole, Alaska...man, that was a long time ago!) warned us about the rainy weather umbrella tips at eye level just waiting to take a cornea out, they neglected to tell us that this was a problem during sunny weather as well. Apparently an Alaskan "pale-face" look is preferable here to a Coppertone tan, regardless of the risks imposed by the umbrellas on us tall folk!

· Going up the tram to see the view from Victoria Peak. This tram was another example of a furnicular for the children - a car pulled uphill (and downhill) by a cable at ground level. The differences from the furnicular we rode on in Istanbul were that the views from the top of Victoria Peak one were incredible, and we also didn't have to tell as many people that we were, in fact, not from the U.S.;

· Being awestruck by the size and scope of the outdoor markets we visited, including the popular Night Market. I bought five dress shirts for $40 (thinking that at some point in the near future I'm actually going to have to go back to work). The vendor started showing me the "new model" pink and mauve shirts as part of her sales pitch. Tracy had to laugh when I responded, "I'm an old model kind of guy." You'd think with my increasingly grey hair (possibly due to my ongoing 24/7 exposure to the children), she might have been able to guess that. Besides loading up on souvenirs at the markets, we also were able to surreptitiously purchase Mother's Day gifts to augment the extra special "you get to sleep alone in the big single bed where your feet only hang off the end a little bit" gift;

· One of the family favourites from the market was the guy hawking the Kessler Sealer. It is a little tool that, when used with a hair dryer, seals plastic together so you can complete such "useful" tasks as laminating your Octopus transit card (which doesn't need laminating), or making a perfectly sealed plastic bubble around your stuffed animals (in case they get one of those "allergic to everything" diseases, I guess).

· Rediscovering the children's (and our) enjoyment of cheap, and questionably hygienic, Indian food...it's pretty clever to binge on Indian food four hours before a 13 hour flight to South Africa, isn't it??;

So curry breath notwithstanding, we found ourselves on a South African Airways flight to Johannesburg after six busy, and enjoyable, days in Hong Kong. This was another one of those late night flights that left at 11:50pm and served dinner about an hour after takeoff. I am amazed at how the children can be nodding off prior to boarding the plane, but as soon as the personal entertainment systems are fired up, and more food is placed in front of them, they are good to go for another two or three hours.

13 hours, and a six hour time change later (and after another meal that was either breakfast or another dinner...who knows?) we landed in Johannesburg. This was one of those pleasant arrivals, as we had a friend meeting us there. You may not know this but 17 years ago, Tracy had a three month work exchange in South Africa and was billeted with Heidrun, who has become a good friend. Many of you may have met her at our wedding...she was the one who talked funny (before the alcohol was served).

Our first impression of South Africa was that it was cold. We arrived at 7:30am local time, and it was about 7 degrees Celsius [For you American readers that is about the same temperature as Thanksgiving Day in Kentucky when you are outside deep frying a turkey, drinking a case of beer, and wondering whether you should bomb Iran, North Korea or Alaska first..."Hold on Jimmy Bob! Don't we own Alaska?"]. We had carefully planned our entire 14 month trip so we would be in warm locations the entire time (so we wouldn't have to pack heavy jackets), so we found this "cold" weather a little disconcerting. No worries however, because in the exceedingly long time it took to get our rental car, it had warmed up nicely. I shouldn't complain about the rental car, however, because Heidrun, with a few choice words, arranged a free upgrade for us from some sort of Diatsu box type thing to an Audi A4...nicely done Heidrun! Unknown to us at the time, it was a harbinger of things to come.

Next up was the drive to Heidrun's place. All three children chose to ride in her car...apparently, after hearing that she not only had a T.V., but also had cable, she was their new best friend. Tracy and I suddenly found ourselves alone together for the first time in about six months. Heidrun may have wondered why it took us 30 seconds longer than her to get out of the parking garage, but the romantics out there will understand!

Our first two days in Johannesburg were fantastic. Heidrun has a very comfortable and beautiful house in a "gated" community just outside of Johannesburg. It should be noted that a "gated" community in Johannesburg is somewhat different than a gated community in North America...it's more about actual security here (think barbed wire, and walls embedded with glass shards), as opposed to just arrogant elitism. [Editor's note: Is it possible that Kevin is turning into a Liberal??]. Heidrun also spoiled us with sausages, steak, chocolate and wine. And on top of that she helped me truly understand myself...I realized that it is not just hockey, golf and baseball I enjoy, but it is all things competitive. I came to this realization after she took the time to explain the rules of cricket to me, and I actually sat down and watched (and thoroughly enjoyed) an entire cricket match.

And to put the icing on the cake, "Heidrun's Hotel and Outfitters" also set us up with a cooler, cutlery, a phone, multiple bottles of wine, a booster seat, ice packs, chocolate, a highlighted route map, and detailed instructions about avoiding the many South African speed traps...all things we would need for our upcoming camping and game drives in South Africa's famous National Parks.

So we left Johannesburg in high spirits but it wasn't three hours later that our bubble burst. Apparently I didn't see that road sign indicating the speed limit had dropped from 100 km/hr to 80 km/hr. Who knew there would be speed traps?? The nice officer showed me the chart that indicated I would need to pay a fine of 500 Rand (about CAD$71), but he expressed concern that I had a foreign drivers license. This apparently would cause some paperwork issues. "Could you settle this right now?" he asked. "I don't have enough money" I replied, as I showed him my "day" wallet that only contained about 270 Rand, no credit cards, and an Australian Top Tourist Caravan Park discount card. I decided not to mention the 3,500 Rand I had in the "secure" wallet in my zippered pocket. "How much can you pay?" was his next question. "Well, I need some money for lunch", I lied, hoping he wouldn't check our trunk and cooler (which was full of chocolate, cheese and wine), "How about 200 Rand?" I offered. "Okay", was his reply, "But this is just between you and me." I agreed, "Yes, just between you and me", and under my breath "and the 250 readers on our blog distribution list".

Yes, a bribe was paid, but it's not like I was only scoring 50 runs on 7 outs through 14 overs...life was still good. And it would just get better as we got further into South Africa.

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