August and September were spent seeing places on the east coast of Canada and in the US. I began with a few days' camping and canoeing on Georgian Bay in Ontario with two friends where, after my tent was blown over a cliff, we proved the diminutive Tarn 3 tent really is a three-man and can stand gale force winds. I then moved east for some solo backpacking around western Newfoundland, alas no whales or icebergs. I can attest, however, that the fabled Newfoundlander friendliness is alive and well, despite having my wallet stolen for the second time in four months. (British Columbian kindness should be mentioned too, since after the first incident my wallet and all its contents [and my pants, but the less said about that the better] were returned shortly after being lost during a weekend in the Okanagan.)
I then met up with another friend in her home province of Prince Edward Island, also off the east coast of mainland Canada. Having gone from a large island to a more modestly sized one, I decided I needed to see the far end of the isolation-and-size spectrum and went with this friend and her family to her father's home, the Magdalene Islands. These are a five hour ferry ride from PEI and are barely more than a few windswept humps of mid-ocean rock connected by tenuous fingers of dune. They are incredibly picturesque, the houses painted in vibrant colour combinations, no two the same. To add to the setting, we were housed in an isolated two-story tower of about 25 square metres on the tip of one of the islands. My remark at how improbable a place this was to live was met with indignation. Apparently this was hypocritical from someone from the southern end of the Dark Continent. That I'm not black was also a source of great amusement, or so I was informed third hand (my neglected high school French was given a severe workout in the Maggies, which are a part of Quebec). I was thrilled to finally experience true Quebecois poutine, and to discover a fantastic French bakery on the island.
After returning to PEI, I joined up with another CS friend and his wife for a car trip through Nova Scotia, packing in as much as we could in two days. We did well, covering the Cabot Trail, the Alexander Graham Bell museum (you mean you didn't know he settled in rural Nova Scotia?), the Bay of Fundy with the largest tidal variance in the world, and Halifax.
From there I began the US leg of the trip with four days in New York City with my brother. Being there over 11 September and visiting "ground zero" for the memorial service was interesting and quite moving. Even coming from the largest city in southern Africa, I was amazed at just how hectic NYC is. Fascinating, for sure, but after four days I longed for just a smidgen of privacy and a glimpse of a horizon. Alone again, I caught a bus down to Washington, DC and, after forgetting just how big the country is, totally mistimed the trip and arrived well into the night. Having been warned about crime in DC, I was amused when my taxi driver asked if Johannesburg really is as dangerous as everyone says. DC has some interesting museums but I found it to be mainly a city-sized exercise in American egoising, and was happy to move on.
My next-to-last stop was Chicago to visit some South African friends, where the bulk of the weekend was spent catching up and eating really good food. Finally I landed back on the west coast, Seattle, where I bade farewell to some folks I met years ago in the heyday of online text-based interactive games (think a text version of Second Life, just way geekier) and returned to Vancouver.
I then boxed up all my worldly possessions and headed back to South Africa. Shortly after arriving I was joined by three good friends from Canada (they of the canoeing and PEI adventures). It was now my turn to reciprocate and show them around my part of the world.
We did whirlwind tours of Johannesburg and its satellite (ex)townships, popped down to Cape Town for a few days, then joined four SA friends for a two week trip up the coast of Mozambique. Sun, beaches, mosquitoes, mind-bending malaria drugs, upset stomachs, bartering in pidgin Portuguese, smelly markets, dolphins, azure seas, island dhow trips... how exactly do you mime that you'd like the most *unripe* melon available? Mozambique was until recently the poorest country in the world. It is slowly moving on from that position, and one is now offered cellphone accessories and airtime on the side of the road, along with the mangoes, (horrible) green bananas and bottles of stupendously hot homemade chilli sauce.
The three Canucks and I topped it off with a week in the Kruger Park, where the foreigners went from being enraptured by the tiniest geckos to being entirely blasé about buffalo and baby elephants. Not to mention the six foot snakes, leopards, cheetah and rhinos. We spotted the big five in the first two days. I don't think they realised just how many visitors to the park see nothing but impala for weeks on end.
I then spent Christmas and the start of the year enjoying being in one place, seeing friends and family, and recovering from all the "relaxing" travel.
0 comments:
Post a Comment