Tag Archives: Budget Travel

Life on Mount Cameroon

5:00 in the morning came quickly but I was ready. I crawled out from under my mosquito net and pulled on my 12 year old Umbro shorts then layered up with some other clothes I knew would get destroyed. After pouring dirty water down the toilet to make it flush I met the others in the lobby of our “hotel” in Buea, Cameroon, Africa.

After some bread and bananas for breakfast we started walking with our head lamps. The chatty morning people led the pack while the others lagged behind dragging their feet and rubbing their eyes. Strolling down the street to the base of Mount Cameroon we saw the town slowly come alive. Children heading to school in their uniforms, packed buses that could not possibly have met safety regulations, and livestock being herded or fed shared the morning with us.

The air was cool but thick with humidity when we started at the base and clambered through the dense rainforest at the base of the mountain. Lush greenery and sweet smells overwhelmed our senses. By this point all 16 members of the group were alert and excited for the adventure that lay ahead. Laughter and jokes rang through the forest amidst the huffing and puffing of trekking a steady uphill. The porters, however, seemed to be having no issues. They passed by us in nothing but flip-flops carrying 12 L of water on their head. They must have learned this from their younger sisters whose main job of the day was fetching water and taking care of the siblings.

About mid-day we took a rest before tackling the section of the mountain fondly nicknamed, “The Wall”. This rocky climb is the most vertical ascent of the towering volcano. We Westerners changed our socks, drank water from our camelbacks, and replenished our energy with protein bars. The porters huddled together, also taking a rest. The occasional porter smoked a cigarette or ate a banana. These young men were lean and strong; made for climbing mountains. The climbers of our group, although fit, were carrying around an extra 20 lbs of bulky muscle; stylish in the western world but totally impractical for climbing uphill for two days. The tall, slim Cameroonians looked like they could walk for weeks.

The porters led the way up the steep Wall while we clambered behind mostly on all fours. The excessive panting and jagged rocks were worth it because when we reached our camp for the night we were met with a stunning view of rolling hills. The yellow grass shimmered in the warm afternoon sun. We rested, revelling in our accomplishment of the day, while the porters made dinner. I should have eaten more but I could not stomach the soggy noodles and greasy chickpeas that lay awaiting for us in the communal pot.

Bed time was approximately 7:00 when the sun set. We had our choice of snoozing in the hut infested with rats or testing our fate sleeping under the stars with the mountain lions. Using a moss covered rock as my pillow I opted to rest surrounded by the openness of the mountain and cuddled with my friends for warmth.

The next morning we woke at a gruelling 3:00 to try for the summit. In single file silence we paced upwards in the pitch black with only our headlamps and the experience of the porters guiding us. We lost half of our team who were too sore or tired to continue to the top. The patient porters took them down to the hut where we made camp the previous night. Just as I felt that I could not take one more step upwards the sun started rising. Rejuvenated by the energy of the rays and the stunning scenery that lay waiting for us at the top of Mount Cameroon, we continued on in high spirits. As the temperature got warmer we began peeling off our layers and giving them to our porters as a thank you. They were thrilled to receive the gifts and would wear them for many future treks.

The last stretch was easy. We clambered up the steep tip to take in the cloudy view and of course take our picture with the sign! 2200 m… we had made it. The sense of accomplishment was something I will never forget. The porters looked on at us kindly; understanding that the climb was much more challenging for us than it was for them.

During the descent one of the porters offered to take a few of us to see the volcanic crater. Standing on the ledge of one of the most active volcanoes in Africa makes one really appreciate life. Looking into the gray depth of this giant hole in the Earth I could only imagine what it would have been like to be a citizen living in Buea during the eruption in 2000. As if echoing my philosophical thoughts the porter pointed to a single purple flower growing from the charred lava rock nearby. “Good can always come from bad,” he said as he pointed to the solo blossom.

It was noon and we needed to finish our descent before sun down. We climbers thought that the way down would be easy but we could tell by the focus of the porters that we still had our work cut out for us. On the way down we would hear the porters murmur “Ashia,” to each other and anyone they passed. When we asked the mild mannered porters what Ashia meant they said, “Courage”. Courage is definitely needed for life on the mountain. Every year in Buea the Race of Hope is held on Mount Cameroon. Sarah Etonge won first place four years in a row on this 40 km run with a elevation difference of 2500 m. Sarah, a Cameroonian who lives at the bottom of the slope, has earned the nickname, “Queen of the Mountain”. She is a single mother who trains once a week in between taking care of her seven children.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Using switchbacks to make the descent easier and calling out to each other when loose lava rock came tumbling down ensured most of us to made it down the hill. One girl twisted her knee and had to be piggy-backed to the bottom by the strongest porter. Dirty, exhausted, and hungry we thanked our brave guides and stumbled back to our hotel to enjoy a shower (albeit with limited water) and a warm dinner. One can only wonder what the porters were heading home to. Maybe after the gruelling climb of the mountain they had to help their families with the livestock. Perhaps they would use their hard earned money to pay tuition for a younger sibling to attend school. Maybe they themselves were training for the Race of Hope with the ambition of winning the large cash prize and the coveted title of Champion. Or maybe they would just wait for the next group of climbers and then they would repair their best flip-flops, don the toque given to them by a previous tourist, and set out on the Mountain again.

Flying with a Newborn

2 Replies

This past year my life changed…. I gave birth to a Mini Hobo! Since it had been awhile since I’d been on an adventure, I anxiously jumped on the chance to have a long weekend visit with one of my old University roommates. Problem was, she lives in Thunder Bay which is a two hour plane ride away. This posed a whole new challenge for The High Class Hobo – “How do I travel economically with a newborn?”

Turns out, if you do your research, it’s fairly easy. After all, children under the age of 2 travel for free on most airlines. Here’s what I learned:

Choose your Airline Carefully – Before MiniHobo came along I would simply chose the cheapest flight and off I went. With a baby there are more things to consider. First you need to ensure that children under the age of 2 travel for free. Second, check the baggage restrictions. Some airlines make allowances for travelling with children and will allow an extra carry-on and a stroller in checked baggage for free. Lastly, if at all possible, pick a direct flight. Boarding, take off, landing, and disembarking are quite the process with a little one so make your life easier and go direct (even if it costs a little bit more money).

Pack Light – I know this is virtually impossible with a baby but the less you have to lug around and keep track of, the better. Your child does not need allllll their toys. Similarly, you do not need alllllll your clothes! Pick the essential things and try to figure out what you can do without. For example, don’t bring a bottle warmer, just ensure there will be access to hot water at the place you are staying. Try and arrange items like car seats, playpens/cribs, and strollers to be available at your destination instead of bringing them.

Get to the Airport Early – Arrive early!!! Babies come with so many unknowns. It’s hard to predict when a newborn will need to eat or have a massive exploding diaper. They can also pick up on your stress so if you are at the airport in plenty of time, everyone will be more relaxed. We hit traffic on the way to the airport with Mini Hobo and it was a very tense experience! Somehow Mini Hobo toughed it out and went hungry and dirty while we ran through the airport to catch our flight. What a champion!

If you can get someone to drop you and your wee one off at the airport, go for it! Park and Fly is just one more exhausting step in the process so if you can eliminate it, great. If it’s economical, consider parking within walking distance of the terminal. Check online ahead of time for coupons.

Consider your Baggage – Whether travelling with a baby or without, I always suggest bringing a carry-on only. I hate checked baggage. Since we were just going for a long weekend we did not check baggage but if you are going for longer you will need to. If checking a large stroller contain it in some kind of bag. I would advise against checking your car seat…. have you seen the way the luggage guys whip the suitcases on the tarmac!? That will be your carseat; you may be able to gate check it.

As for transporting your child? I would suggest baby wearing as much as possible. When Mini Hobo was a little older we invested in a cheap umbrella stroller. It was awesome to wheel him right up the plane and then gate check the stroller.

Survive Security – Have your passports handy. If you are not travelling with your spouse you may need a note from them indicating they are aware of your baby’s travels. This is more likely the case if you are crossing borders. When going through security you will get the VIP treatment! People with babies often get to go to the front of the line. They will check bottles, breastmilk bags, and baby food and allow you to take it through security. Lastly, find your gate and wait. Congrats you made it! You will probably get to board first which is another perk of travelling with a newborn.

….hopefully not.

Prepare for Dirty Looks – Within a 5 seat radius I could feel the eyes on Mini Hobo and me. Yup, sorry about your luck, you got stuck sitting near the baby. Not everyone has experience with newborns so don’t expect them to be kind and understanding. I found people were fine but definitely not overjoyed to realize they would be flying with a 3 month old.

Make Take Off a Breeze – This is the part I was most nervous about. For once I actually listened to the emergency procedures! The flight attendants were very helpful. They showed me how to hold my Mini Hobo during take off and landing. I asked if I could nurse during take off and they said yes as long as I had a secure hold on him. My plan was to nurse during take off so Mini Hobo would swallow and his ears wouldn’t hurt. As usual, babies have a way of ruining your plans. But this time it was for the good! Mini Hobo must have been so exhausted from our scramble to get to the airport that he nursed and then slept during take off. Other suggestions I researched online are use a pacifier or have the newborn drink breastmilk/water from a bottle.

Entertain Baby During The Flight – Since it was only a two hour flight we didn’t need too much to entertain Mini Hobo. He slept for a good chunk. He looked out the window and enjoyed gawking around at all the people on the flight. He nursed for landing and the pressure did not seem to bother his ears. We did have Baby Tylonol on hand and were prepared to use it if he was in pain. We used some on the way home but it was because he was having major teething pains. Some other advice would be to bring a few favourite books or new toys, sing to baby, walk the aisles, or if you are desperate entertain baby with your phone on Airplane Mode.

Ease into Arrival – Don’t worry about rushing off the plane with everyone else. Take your time and make sure you have collected all your belongings. In an ideal situation someone will be meeting you at the airport to pick you up with a carseat. You can also rent car seats at car rental spots but there are mixed reviews online about doing that because you don’t know the history of the carseat. Public transportation is a great and easy option for travelling with a newborn as well, as long as you can manage all your bags.

There you have it! Admittedly, travelling with a newborn takes a lot of careful planning and forethought. It was also a lot more work than traveling solo, but in my opinion it was completely worth it! I was very excited to share my passion for traveling with my Mini Hobo. I’m looking forward to many more adventures to come!

Indonesia Part 2 – Lombok and Gili

Leave a reply

Upon our return from Ubud, we spent a few days at a camp on the beach continuing our quest to learn to surf as well as doing some of the touristy things that Bali had to offer. One of the tourist attractions was amazing and another was a bit of a disappointment.

Back to Pro Surf in Kuta Beach

Let’s start with the enjoyable attraction. Bali has a zoo, a really nice zoo! Hobo L and Hobo M are huge animal lovers we booked, “A Night at the Zoo.” … pretty self explanatory. We arrived around 5 and the first thing we did was visit a few animals that weren’t nocturnal. This included a giant, ugly clawed bird and a group of gorgeous elephants you could feed.

Evil bird plotting his escape.

Can you tell I’m not an animal person?

There is usually a group of orangutans but they were ironically on Christmas display at the BeachWalk mall in Kuta, a 10 minute walk from our surf camp. We also got the chance to hold/have awkwardly perched on us a yellow boa constrictor and a bearcat.

My “Get this Thing off me” smile

Hobo M braving the boa.

After ordering our choices for dinner we went on a walking night safari which was pretty cool because we saw all the nocturnal animals awake and active. We got to feed the monkeys and the Bali deer and see lots of other animals that are native to both Indonesia and surrounding Asian countries. After a few months of very basic meals, dinner was a highlight. Fresh arugala salad (that had to have been washed because I digested it properly!), a large steak dinner, and lemon tart pie for dessert. All topped off with an ice cold BinTang beer. While eating we could gaze at the nearby lions in their open concept cage or laugh at the trained porcupine that was running around by our feet. As our after dinner entertainment we witnessed a traditional dance followed by fire dancing! The whole event was very professional and was money well spent.

Mythological Indonesian Dance.

The next day was a bit of a disappointment. We went “White Water Rafting” down the Ayung River. I was really excited for this because I absolutely LOVE WhiteWater Rafting! I was aware that after rafting some of the best rapids in the world in Zambia, I might find these a little tame, but the Ayung River rafting was an insult to White Water Rafting. “Babbling Brook Float” would have been a more accurate name. Upon arrival we were given helmets and life jackets (not that we needed them) and essentially floated down a creek with a few wavy patches. This rafting was so pathetic that at points the bottom of our raft would actually get stuck on the rocks below. These were Class .5 rapids at the most.

Good friends make any situation better. 🙂

I’m really lucky I was with Hobo L and Hobo M because they saw how disappointed I was so they cracked jokes all the way down the river to cheer me up. The most exercise we got all day was hiking up the stairs at the end of the river float. There were three tiny highlights of the tour. One was the small gator that we saw swimming close to our raft, the other was the scenery that looked like it belonged in Jurassic Park, and the third was the buffet lunch that followed the “rafting”.

Floating down the River because we thought our guide was joking about the gators.

So after a win and a bust in Bali we cabbed it to the airport and bought a $34 ticket to the island of Lombok. The delayed plane sounded like a lawn mower and shook like an Earthquake but we made it! I would imagine that Lombok is what Bali was 20-30 years ago. The scenery is amazing and the island isn’t too built up yet. There were few tourists and it had a very laid back vibe to it. We scored a stunning hotel with a perfect location for a sweet price. The day after we arrived we decided we wanted to explore the island. What better way to do that than to rent $5 scooters! We were a little hesitant at first for a few reasons. A) We didn’t know where we were going. B) We weren’t sure how well maintained these scooters were. C) In Indonesia they drive on the left side of the road. D) Hobo L had never driven a scooter or motorcycle before. E) The helmets were in about the same condition as a 1940’s war helmet would have been. But those were all minor details, we’re capable women!

My sweet scooter ride.

We hopped on the scooters and carefully pulled out into the honking traffic. We slowly made our way out of town and up the hills of the winding roads. We didn’t get too far because we knew we had to stop for some fuel. We pulled off on the side of the road at a stand that looked like it was selling vodka bottles full of urine. But no, that is how the locals buy and sell their gas. We purchased a few litres and set off again, slowly gaining confidence and speed.

Indonesian gas station

The twisting hills following the coastline were stunning. It was difficult to stay concentrated on the road with such amazing views distracting us. We drove for hours and hours occasionally stopping to consult a map or ask the friendly locals where the heck we were. Our goal was to find Mount Rinjani which unfortunately we could not climb because the wet season had started. After one last piece of broken English directional advice we started our uphill scooter ascent feeling the weather get cooler and wetter as we rose in altitude. We drove as far as we could and after an inconclusive cloudy view of the mountain we made our way back down trying to remember the roads we had taken to get to our destination.

Hobo M exhibiting her navigational skills.

After hours on the road with no issues our confidence had skyrocketed. The trip back to the town of Senggigi, where we were staying, resembled a glorified go-kart race. There were no speed limit signs and just like the locals, we were pulling up behind cars and other scooters and laying on our horns until they let us pass. To the scooter owners surprise we returned the bikes at the latest possible time and told him that the three of us gals had made it all the way to the mountain and back. The only near injury we had was when a coconut flew of a truck and smoked Hobo M’s backpack. All in all, a solid day.

Stunning coastal views.

The next day we embraced the health and wellness scene that Lombok is known for. Our morning started with laps in our 50 meter infinity pool followed by smoothies, omelets, and bacon wrapped veggies at the complimentary hotel breakfast. We strolled to the beach then scouted out the best place for a massage. Our hour long incredible massage cost $6 and it was very professional. I also got my toenails and fingernails painted upping my spa bill to a whopping $8. Once feeling refined and relaxed we ate an authentic Italian dinner at a restaurant on the beach. It’s good that we had a day to unwind because the following day was a travel day again. We haggled hard for a taxi but had no luck and eventually caught a ride with some locals to get the harbor front. From there we bought a speedboat ticket that took us to Gili Trawangan Island.

The High Class Hobo and her belongings waiting to board the speedboat.

There are many Gili Islands off the coast of Lombok but the three most popular ones are Gili Air (the laid back island), Gili Meno (the honeymoon island) and Gili Trawangan (the party island). Gili Trawangan was beautiful but upon closer inspection parts of it looked used and abused… you could tell it was the party island. The main strip was fun. It had a plethora of bars, restaurants, dive spots, and hostels or small hotels. The roads were dirt or sand and no motor traffic was allowed so everyone rented bikes for their stay or took a horse drawn cart to their destination.

Transportation on Gili G

We stayed off the main drag but still on the beach on the North part of the island. Once settled, we opted for a snorkeling tour which also took us to the other two Gili islands. Although the tour ended up being slightly sketchy, the snorkeling was the best snorkeling I have ever experienced. The coral was still relatively intact and there were so many types of fish that I never even knew existed! We went to three different dive spots in the warm turquoise water. At one point we followed a graceful turtle until it disappeared into the darker blue of the deep waters. We literally spent hours floating around looking at the different colours and shapes of all fish!

After lunch we headed to our last dive spot but the winds and rain had suddenly started. Our boat forged ahead through the massive waves with people literally hanging on and letting out ashamed little yelps or screams when the boat rocked sideways to the point where you were afraid of falling out. A few of us tried to snorkel at the last spot but it was difficult because the waves would wash over you and fill your snorkel with water leaving you to breath in the salty H2O. Happy to be back on land we spent the remainder of the afternoon relaxing by the calm pool at our hotel. We ventured into town on our bikes for dinner and enjoyed some delightful Mexican food. After dinner it was an adventure attempting to ride our bikes back to the hotel in the dark. Since the North part of the island is not very developed the “roads” are still beach sand … not ideal for riding a bike. Instead we decided to cut through the interior of the island spotted with palm trees, local houses, fallen palm leaves, and some wandering cows. There are NO lights and the paths are not exactly easy to follow. After some unintentional off-roading and a near fall after hitting a tough coconut we safely made it back to the hotel. The next day we dedicated to exploring the island. The interior paths of the islands were much easier to navigate in the day time. We saw the huge corporate developments starting to build up the west side of the island. We saw a pile of plastic water bottles that must have been at least 10 m x 10 m. I have no idea how they dispose of all the waste. The island wasn’t equipped to deal with the consumption of all the island party-goers. It was actually quite sad.

Imagine cycling through this in the pitch black!

We decided to end our stay on Gili Trawangan by doing a bit of a market pub crawl. This basically consisted of us wandering down the strip and into the market eateries trying to find the cheapest beers and appetizers. The night ended with a beach walk all the way home to our hotel.

The following day we bought speedboat tickets back to Bali. The boat represented the culture of the island. They had a sun deck, loud speakers blasting out dance music, and of course, beer. Unfortunately, it rained on our parade (literally) and most people took cover below the sun deck. Hobo M and I stayed on top, the rain was warm so it didn’t bother us too much except for the sting of it pelting us in the face. It was worth staying above deck though because when our speedboat came to an abrupt slow down we had the perfect view of a huge whale just meters from our boat! It surfaced, blew the water out of its blow hole, paused as if investigating us for a minute, and then disappeared again back into the depths of the Ocean. Back at trusty Pro Surf in Bali we prepared for the sad departure of Hobo L and planned the last leg of our Indonesian journey. Stayed tuned for Indonesia Part 3 – Java!

Just in case you were looking to rent a speargun.

Gooood Mooorrrrrnnning VIETNAM!

Leave a reply

From South Africa I had a one hour layover in Abu Dhabi and then headed straight to Ho Chi Minh City (aka: Saigon). After getting over some issues with my Visa (apparently you need a letter from your embassy to travel to Vietnam), I was given an “emergency visa” at a price that hurt my little hobo heart. Once in a cab and heading towards my hostel there was one and one thing only I noticed about Vietnam: MOTORBIKES! This place was swarming with scooters that weaved in and out of each other in NO order whatsoever and somehow they didn’t crash. If Vietnam has any traffic laws at all they must be thrown out the window the moment people get their licenses because it was absolute chaos. It felt like I was playing frogger every time I wanted to cross the street.

Cars are taxed 300% so everyone in Vietnam owns small motorbikes.

After sleeping in the following day I decided to wander the streets in search of a place to do my laundry. I took everything in the hopes that the grubbiness of camping for 40 days could finally be washed out of my clothes. I also found the backpacker road which had some great spots to eat and some fun shops. This leads me to the second major thing I noticed about Vietnam: A HOBO’S PARADISE! This place was incredibly cheap…. like mind blowingly cheap. My entire 11 days came to under $500 and I wasn’t particularly skimping on things.

So after I delighted in the prices of Vietnam my next mission was to plan what I was going to do during my stay in Saigon. I opted for the War Museum one day and the CuChi Tunnels another day. I would have liked to have taken a trip out to the Mekong Delta to see the floating markets but I didn’t feel I had enough time.

The War Museum cost $1 and in my opinion it was very graphic and very anti-American. I didn’t know too much about the Vietnam War before I travelled to Saigon but between the War Museum and the CuChi Tunnels I feel like I now have a better understanding. The War Museum was littered with pictures of people who had been deformed due to ingesting the chemical Agent Orange. The photos were really sad and the captions pointed the finger of blame squarely at the Americans. They believe that the use of Agent Orange and other chemicals was a war crime. I’m still unclear as to why the USA joined the Vietnam War. Perhaps any sort of growing communism was a major threat at that time? After spending a few more days in Ho Chi Minh I did notice an alarming number of people with deformities which I am assuming are still side effects of Agent Orange chemicals. I also noticed people’s relief when they asked me where I was from and I said Canada. Automatically people assume I’m from the USA because of my accent and appearance. Maybe I should throw an, “Eh” in at the end of every sentence just to make people feel more comfortable.

War Museum in Saigon/Ho Chi Minh

The following day I took a tour out to the Tam Giao temple and the CuChi Tunnels. The Tam Giao religion is isolated to Vietnam. It is a combination of Buddhism, Confucianism, Mahayana, and Taoism. The reason the religion was invented was because when the French were attacking Vietnam in the late 1800’s religious places were off limits. So they created a new religion with a giant temple so they could hide in there.

Religion exclusive to Vietnam

The temple was interesting but the highlight of the day was the CuChi Tunnels. The Vietnamese used guerilla warfare to fight. They would work in their villages all day as civilians and at night the women would dig the tunnels and the men would fight intensely for about half an hour. The Vietnamese were extremely resourceful people; they made traps out of anything and everything. Most of the traps were holes dug in the ground with spikes attached to folding chairs or other household items.

Vietnamese Jungle Traps

Aside from the traps, the Vietnamese had a huge network of tiny tunnels. I went inside one and my hips barely fit. There was a 20 m tunnel that the tourists could crawl through but they had to double to size of it so the westerners could make it through. Even with double the size my claustrophobia kicked in so I have no idea how the Vietnamese handled it. Since the network of tunnels became so intricate air was sometimes sparse. They disguised air holes as giant termite mounds and they would surround the air holes as well as the entrances to the tunnels with chili pepper flakes so the army dogs would lose the scent of humans.

My guide stepped on the lid as a joke while I was down there.

Aside from using nature to create weapons, the Vietnamese would disassemble grenades or bombs that didn’t explode so they could reuse the explosives inside for their own homemade weapons. These people were survivors! Another highlight of the CuChi Tunnels was my chance to shoot an AK-47. I felt slightly guilty about how much I enjoyed shooting it, but it was really fun!

Hit the target, Daddy-obo taught me well!

After some more fabulous and cheap Vietnamese food and a visit to the night market I made my way from Ho Chi Minh to Hanoi which is in the North of Vietnam. It was here that my friend Leigh and I met up at the airport. We stayed for $12 each in a fantastic hotel in the centre of Hanoi with a balcony and a delicious breakfast. The lady at the front desk was amazing in helping us to plan out our time in Hanoi and the surrounding area. First we opted to go on an overnight cruise to Halong Bay. The next day we drove for almost 4 hours to get to the harbor where we boarded our vessel. Our ship was very nice and modern and it only had 12 rooms. We took a scenic tour out to the bay admiring the beautiful ancient mountain tops that peeked out of the water after being flooded years ago.

Would have been more scenic with the sun, but still beautiful.

When we arrived at Halong Bay we took smaller boats out to floating village. The people here and in the surrounding area literally lived on floating homes or in some cases, in their bamboo boats. We went for a tour in the little bamboo boats all around the town. We saw the school and houses and the spot where everyone comes to sell their fish. I tried rowing the bamboo boat and it was tough! What was even more embarrassing were the locals rowing by using their feet and doing a better job steering the boat than I was.

Attempting to row the bamboo boat.

Later we docked at a beach where we could climb up to the top of one of the mountain tops to see the surrounding view. We ended our day with a 7 course meal traditionally served to royalty. The presentation of the food in Vietnam was so intricite. One grilled fish was covered in a “net” that had been carved out of one entire carrot. Our spring rolls were stuck into pineapples shaped like little birds. They were very artistic with their food presentation. Following dinner there was the option to do some less than okay karaoke or go squid fishing. We opted for the squid fishing but didn’t catch anything. The next morning we had the option to do Tai Chi before breakfast and then we went to visit a cave full of giant stalactites and stalagmites. It would have been nice if the weather had been sunnier for us but it was still a scenic and relaxing few days.

All the decorations were made with fruits or vegetables.

A net carved out of a single carrot.

When we got back to Hanoi we didn’t have much down time because we had to hop on the sleeper train to head to our next adventure; a trek in Sapa! Sapa is in the North of Vietnam only a few kilometers from the border of China. Many of the Sapa people descend from tribes that lived there years ago. They make their living by growing rice and weaving hemp clothing dyed indigo with plants found in the area. If I had one word to describe the trek I would say, “MUDDY”. My first hint should have been when they offered to rent us rubber boots for $1 a day. That was one of the best investments I made this trip!

Us Canadians didn’t fall once! It was just like walking on ice.

We were followed for 7-10 km through the muddy paths and rice paddies by some Sapa Sisters. Basically these are women from Sapa who follow you all day and assist you through the mud if you need help in the hopes that you will buy something from them at the end of the day. One lady was so old and wrinkly I have no idea how she made the trek into the middle of nowhere then out again every single day in the mud. They were very strong women!

The High Class Hobo with some Sapa Sisters

We got to our homestay around 4 that afternoon. We took turns showering then enjoyed a fantastic home cooked Vietnamese meal followed by way too much rice wine (also homemade). It’s rude to turn down a drink in the Vietnamese culture but the rice wine tasted awful! We got really creative with ways of discarding our shots so we didn’t have to take them.

The following day we continued our stroll through local villages and paths leading to remote waterfalls. The scenery was so beautiful and lush and our local guide Mya entertained us with stories everywhere we went. After our lunch overlooking the misty hills we drove back to the town of Sapa. Leigh and I opted to spend our few hours of free time getting $10 massages. To our surprise they played children’s nursery songs paired with Gangnam style in the background. How soothing!

Strolling through a Sapa village.

The rolling hills and rice paddies.

Before we knew it we were back on the sleeper train. Now, I didn’t describe the sleeper train before so I’ll take a second to touch on that now. Picture a train from the 1950’s with the interior décor of the 1970’s (I’m talking major wood paneling and orange everywhere). Each compartment has 4 beds. The beds are held up by chains attached to the wall. So you have to decide carefully, “If this chain were to snap, what would be worse? Falling from the top bunk onto someone else or not falling off your bunk but potentially being squished by a stranger falling from above?” These are the types of questions I’ve had to ask myself over the past 70 days of traveling, haha. There is no spot to store your bags on the train so you sleep curled up with them. You also need to be a semi-pro gymnast in order to vault yourself from the tiny foothold sticking out from the wall onto the top bunk. Sleeping on the train feels like sleeping in a hammock, it sort of rocks you to sleep. That is until it squeals to a stop to let people off. Anyway, we survived the sleeper train (twice) and made it back to Hanoi. From there we had a quick shower, repacked our bags and hopped on a flight to our 24 hour layover in Singapore.

Zambia

Leave a reply

The first night in Zambia we stayed outside of the capital city of Lusaka in a border town called Chipata. There was an immediate difference between Zambia and Malawi. There were way more cars, way more white people, and many of the buildings were made out of cement as oppose to mud brick. These huts had a thatched roof with a pointy top. Zambia’s main income is copper and tourism. Unfortunately the government does not manage the natural resources very well and deforestation is a major issue, but if they are smart enough they may be able to rely on tourism as a source of income in the future.

Waking up to zebras outside our tent

In Chipata we woke up to zebras roaming around our tent and giraffes not too far off in the distance. A giant dog named Mufasa made sure the wildlife didn’t get to close to the visitors. After a full day of travel we spent 4 days in Livingstone. Livingstone was like entering a whole new world! We stayed at Waterfront Zambezi Lodges and Campground. There was a gorgeous restaurant, bar, and pool area that overlooked the river with the country of Zimbabwe on the other side. The first thing we needed to do when we got there was to book our excursions. Livingstone is an adrenaline junkie’s paradise but this is NOT the place for a Hobo. Livingstone is very expensive so I had to pick and choose what activities I wanted to do the most. Seeing as the bungee jump consisted of 2 towels and one strap around your ankles to hold you in I decided to skip that option. The microflights and helicopter ride were $200 + for 15 minutes which I simply could not justify. Whenever I travel I try to go whitewater rafting. I think it’s a great way to view the scenery, get some exercise, and bond with other people on the trip. The full day raft down the Zambezi River was a no brainer for me. I also decided to dedicate a day to go to Victoria Falls National Park and day to go to Devil’s Pool.

The first day of adventure was rafting. 13/14 people in our tour group also decided to do the full day rafting. Two of those people could not really swim and a few other were not very comfortable with the water. Before booking we watched the promo video of the raft flipping in huge rapids to some extreme music in the background. Those of us that had rafted before assured the rest of the group that the raft flipping was worst case scenario and they were just trying to market the day to look more exciting. I felt really bad once we got on the water because I realized my advice couldn’t have been more far from the truth.

Paddling our hearts out before being flipped into a rapid

Our rafting guide’s name was Steve and he had been guiding on that river for 23 years. You know those people that are bored with their jobs so they have to amuse themselves at work so they don’t go crazy? I think this was Steve. He took pure joy and pleasure in watching us struggle. For instance, one of the girls fell out on the first rapid. We pulled her in and in between coughs she told Steve she had swallowed a bunch of water, to which he responded with an ice cold face, “Keep your mouth shut then, Singapore.” I would catch him grinning sometimes when he thought we weren’t looking; he was genuinely amused by what we felt were near death experiences.

The names of the rapids should have been our first hint that the day was going to be intense.

By the third rapid I had figured out that Africa must have a different way of rating rapids. Rapids can be class 1-5. I have rafted Class 4 and felt perfectly confident and safe but these were a class all on their own! On the rapid named, “Devil’s Toilet Bowl,” our entire boat flipped and I got stuck underneath. They tell you in the safety debrief to stay calm and walk your hands along the raft until you reach the edge. I did that but I wasn’t getting anywhere. After what felt like an eternity (even though it was probably less than 5 seconds) Steve reached under, found me, and pulled me out. Even though he is the least sympathetic person I’ve ever met he is in my good books now.

This wasn’t the only rapid we flipped on. There were 25 rapids total that day and we fell out on 6 of them. Now, that doesn’t sound like a lot but when you are being tossed around underwater in what feels like a washing machine with no idea when you’re going to surface again, it can get pretty strenuous. Once you do surface you then have to take a quick breath because you know you are going to get slapped in the face with another giant wave and go back down again. If you’re lucky enough to have been able to grab the “oh shit rope” that is tied around the edge of the raft you have to try not to get smacked in the head with the bobbing raft or squished between your raft and the rocks on the edge of the river bed. All in all, it was a terrifying outing but one of my favourite days on the trip so far. It was so much fun telling our stories in the bar afterwards and we still talk about it almost every day. At this point in my blog I usually insert some cool pictures. Unfortunately my waterproof, indestructible camera is somewhere at the bottom of the Zambezi River. Like I said, the rapids were a lot more intense than I was anticipating so I naïvely brought my camera. So there are no pictures of me rafting. 😦

Bird’s eye view of the first rapid, “The Boiling Point”

The following day we went to Victoria Bridge which connects the country of Zambia to Zimbabwe. It was here that I watched some of my fellow travelers do the “Big Air Experience” which consisted of ziplining across the gorge, bungee jumping 111 m towards the Zambezi River, and swinging off the bridge. It looked terrifying. In the afternoon we went to Victoria Falls National Park too see one of the Natural Wonders of the World. Mosi-oa-Tunya which means “the smoke that thunders” is original name for the Falls. David Livingstone renamed the waterfall Victoria Falls after Queen Victoria upon his “discovery” of them. One million liters of water fall second down the 108 m cliff into the 1.7 km wide gorge. In the wet season it would looks like a giant, continuous curtain of water. It is the end of the dry season now but it was still a spectacular sight.

Victoria Falls National Park

David Livingstone plaque

The following morning consisted of a trip to Devil’s Pool, the most extreme infinity pool in the world. We took a taxi to Livingstone Hotel which was beautiful and cost $800 a night! Needless to say we used a lot of the free moisturizer in the bathrooms and one girl even took some of the nice smelling potpourri to put in her tent. We took a little boat out to Livingstone Island. It’s a weird feeling voluntarily driving towards a 108 meter waterfall drop. When we got to the island we had the chance to stroll close to the edge (no fences, ropes, or warning signs in sight) and essentially get as close as we wanted to peek over the side into the gorge. The Falls were stunning from above and there was a gorgeous double rainbow!

Double Rainbow

After taking some pictures we were led to a chunk of water we had to swim across. There was a bit of a current but we made it across safely. Once on the other side we climbed up on a rock. The Falls were no less than 10 meters ahead of us with a little pool of water between us and the drop down into the gorge. Our guide backflipped in and simply floated to the edge where he climbed up and STOOD ON THE EDGE OF THE WATERFALL. One at a time we cautiously slipped into the water and allowed the current to push us to the other side where we held onto a little rock ledge so we wouldn’t topple over the falls. Once everyone was in we sat up on the ledge for a picture.

Sitting on the edge of a waterfall!

As if being nervous about toppling over Victoria Falls wasn’t enough, the Devil’s Pool was filled with little fish that like to eat the dead skin cells from human bodies. So once in a while you’d get a little nibble on your feet, legs, or even bum from these fish trying to get a meal. To get us out of the pool someone threw us a rope and dragged us back to the rock where we battled the current to swim back to Livingstone Island.

Cautiously taking a peek over the edge.

The next day we hopped on our truck-trolly with our new tour guides Lucinda and Colleen to continue our journey to the border of Botswana. The High Class Hobo had survived Zambia!