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<channel><title><![CDATA[Lost Everywhere - Lost Everywhere]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/index.html]]></link><description><![CDATA[Lost Everywhere]]></description><pubDate>Tue, 23 Aug 2011 07:04:17 -0800</pubDate><generator>Weebly</generator><item><title><![CDATA[Arrival in Sardinia]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/08/arrival-in-sardinia.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/08/arrival-in-sardinia.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Tue, 23 Aug 2011 06:43:51 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/08/arrival-in-sardinia.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Stintino  Porto Torres does not give someone a welcoming first impression  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4671253.jpg?478" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Stintino</div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">Porto Torres does not give someone a welcoming first impression of Sardinia.Infact PortoTorres would best be described as a industrial shit hole. With large unsightly factories littering the coast it gives the impression of looking at nancy karrigans teeth. &nbsp;Fortunately for me, I was not staying there. I beamed it straight for the lovely touristic town of Stintino, which is the launching area for the NacionalParcdiAsinara. NPDA is italy&rsquo;s version of Alcatraz. Up until 1998 the island was home to no less then 8 prisons; 6 minimum security and 2 maximum. The benefit of this prison system is the entire island is unspoilt by development. Even the waters around the island are off limits to fishing. The water is as clear as any, and you can see the abundance of fish without having to doan scuba or snorkel gear. Stintino is also home to one of the most amazing white sand beaches in the world (and its topless, much to my dismay&hellip;). On my first leisure day, I booked a yacht tour that took me around the island, and included a visit to one of the now defunct prisons. You can only visit the minimum security prisons, as the maximum contain blueprints for the way Italy still builds their maximum security prisons. Technically, someone could visit the prison and figure out a way to break a friend out of a maximum security prison anywhere in Italy. When booking my tour I was hoping to meet some young people (girls). Unfortunatelly I got stuck on the geriatric boat. The other guests were at least 80 years old, and the women saw fit to take their bikini&rsquo;s off once we set sail. Lovely, I know. That didn&rsquo;t take away from the lovely coastline that the island enjoys (well it did but not that much). The boat drifted gently across the shoreline exzactley the way a bowling ball wouldn&rsquo;t. The minimum security prisons are more akin to villages then prisons. The prisoners had free access to wander the island but had duties to perform for the guards. The prisoners were the gardeners, carpenters, mechanic&rsquo;s, etc..for the guards who must have lived a pretty cushy life. When the prisons were closed most of the guards wanted to stay on the island. All but one were not allowed. (I cant remember his name) was a stone sculptur as well as a guard. There is a museum in the prison now with his works in it. When the tour finished, I bid adieu to my geriatic semi nude companions and started my 75 km cycle to Alghero.&nbsp;<br /><br /></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1584096.jpg?486" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/475516.jpg?481" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Minimum security prison</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/995105.jpg?472" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">A carving made by one of the prison guards</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5512842.jpg?462" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">To get there, I had to go back through Porto Torres. This worked in my favour as I needed a bike shop to perform some much needed repairs. Somehow all 4 brakes were completely worn out (I knew something was wrong when I couldn&rsquo;t stop, ha). I was also tired of experiencing intense anus pain, so I invested in a gel cover for my seat. Praise the lord hallalujah! What a difference. I can feel my ass again! Worth every penny. A kickstand was also added, but my bike is too heavy with all my gear on it and falls over if I try to use it. <br /><br />    With my new set of upgrades I set off for the amazing town of Alghero. By far the nicest town I had visited in Sardinia up to this point. Alghero has it all; beautiful beaches, an Unesco World Heritage Town Centre, amazing coastline and lots of things to do and places to visit. At my hostel I was the only person besides a quirky Bavarian man. The next few days consisted of visting a very cool (literally and figuratively) cave where the worlds second largest stalactice exists, a 3500 year old Nuraghi town and of course drinking coffee whilst pondering the purpose of my existence in this world (still haven&rsquo;t found out the answer). <br /><br />    Unfortunatelly, like and good (insert acronym), all good things must come to an end. It was with a heavy heart and a tear in my eye, I packed my bicyclette (italien for bicycle &ndash; in case you are retarded) and set off for the 150 km trek across the island to Santa Teresa de Gallurda on the east coast.&nbsp;<br /><br /></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5359736.jpg?458" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Capo Caccia</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5252167.jpg?454" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The entrance to the cave with stalactites and stalacmites</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6098413.jpg?454" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Infamous Christmas tree stalactite</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2928160.jpg?439" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8988516.jpg?470" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">The last time I cycled over 150 km in a day it was a disaster. No need to bring up painful memories. So I split the journey into 2 days, with a stopover in Castelsardo. Enjoyable, beautiful, serene and unexpected is how I would describe the trip. I was barraged with some of the most jaw dropping scenery you could hope for. Again, the pictures will do the talking. A strange thing happens when youre cycling in these surroundings; you kinda forget you&rsquo;re working. The cycling becomes a rythem, and combined with good music and amazing scenery you feel very much at peace. I am also listening to IPOD lectures on the Roman Empire and the Italein Renissance in between music. This adds to the experience as I am cycling through areas that I am also learning about. <br /><br />      I arrived in Santa Teresa de Gallurda during a beautiful sunny warm Sardinian day. STdG is another amazing town that &lsquo;has it all&rsquo;. Beautiful beaches, picturesque old town and lots of places to visit.However, with the go-go-go pace of the previous two weeks combined with a recent surge in my seasonal allergies, I decided to spend the next few days doing sweet fuck all. When my 3 days were up, I departed for the short 50 km ride to Palau en route to the nationally protected parc of La Madalena. I found a beautiful campground.&nbsp; Immeditaley after setting up my tent, it started to rain. I remember thinking &ldquo;I&rsquo;m getting pretty good at this rain dodging thing. This is the third time in a row that I have just finished setting up my tent and without a moment to spare the rain has started&rdquo; in the next few days I couldn&rsquo;t have been more wrong. Anyways, La Madalane is a parc that is compromised of a few beautiful islands with very little development. The main tourist draw to the islands are their captivating beauty, lack of permanent inhabitants and picturesque islands that, fortunately for me, also have decent mountain biking trails. This was the reason I purchased a mountain bike and not a touring bike. A touring bike would have allowed me to go a lot faster, but you cant take a touring bike on mountain trails. Up till now, the only mountain biking that I enjoyed was in gran parc nacional del paradiso in the Aosta valley...Therefore the rest of my time on the islands were happily devoted to this endevour.&nbsp;<br />I made a video of my sardinian adventures...&nbsp;<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKfyFO-qnpg" style="">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKfyFO-qnpg</a><br /><br /></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7899054.jpg?466" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Random view while cycling</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1955904.jpg?445" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1669255.jpg?454" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Castelsardo</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4300085.jpg?445" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6045103.jpg?442" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Arrival in La Madalena</div></div></div>  ]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Cinque Terre, Pisa and Senor Mackie]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/06/cinque-terre-pisa-and-senor-mackie.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/06/cinque-terre-pisa-and-senor-mackie.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Wed, 15 Jun 2011 04:37:39 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/06/cinque-terre-pisa-and-senor-mackie.html</guid><description><![CDATA[  I was excited to see a familiar face and  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8935538.jpg?673" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; "><font size="4">I was excited to see a familiar face and </font><span></span><font size="4">take a break from cycling. Over the previous ten days I had but one English conversation (with the three German girls) and the lack of interaction was starting to get to me. By the time Morgin and I returned from the airport it was late so we decided to crash and save the festivities for the next day. After breakfast we hopped on a train departing for Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre is a UNESCO world heritage site on Italy&rsquo;s west coast comprised of 5 amazing towns. Built directly overlooking one of the most beautiful coasts in the world; they are a sight to behold. Cinque Terre was not always a tourist centre. In the past, agriculture was the main economy and the mountainside is a procession of carefully terraced orchards and gardens, adding to the already beautiful panoramic. With the clear blue ocean gently crashing against the cliffside it is hard not to be impressed. After checking into our hotel we spent the rest of the day relaxing and walking around Manarole; one of the five towns. We found a natural swimming pool where the local hooligans take pleasure jumping off the rocks into the water to the delight of ogling tourists. During our swim we befriended four Canadians that we would see a few times during our trip.<br /><br />    Cinque Terra can lay claim to both Pesto and Foccacia bread. Its quite surprising the tiny Cinque Terre has birthed two foods that have been reproduced and enjoyed the world around. After eating our delicious supper; pesto pasta, we found a bar with a open jam session. There was a collection of 6 unbelievable musicians jamming out to Italian and English songs. The home brewed wine was 3 eu for half a litre; not surprisingly this lead to a pleasant over indulgence. As it was an open jam, the musicians asked if anybody wanted to come up and join. Our Canadian friends (the ones we met swimming) took them up on the offer. As it turns out 3 of the four Canadians study musical theater and one of them toured with Shania Twain (or maybe it was Cheryl Crow, I cant really remember, the wine was making everything foggy). Making Canada proud, they belted out tunes into the early morning to the delight of everyone in the bar. Equally drunk and sitting beside us was a 55-year-old architect lady who wanted to smoke hash with us. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes before it throws up. We declined her offer and decided it was time to sleep as the bar had emptied out the lights were being turned off. </font><br /><br />     </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6398127.jpg?677" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6737148.jpg?669" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7968544.jpg?663" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp;<font size="4">Words can&rsquo;t do justice to Cinque&rsquo;s beauty and I will let the pictures do the talking. For the next two days we had a lethargic pace of life consisting of hiking around, drinking coffee and bullshitting. Over the past few years Morgin and I hadn&rsquo;t hung out too much as we both spent most of our time traveling the world. Morgin is living in Germany and working in Iraq, Darfur (Sudan) and the jungle in Papua New Guinea and I have been traveling Africa the Middle East and Europe. <br /><br />    On the last night in Cinque Terre we went to a bar that got our attention because of the collection of people chanting and singing outside. This was a rare sight in the quiet towns of Cinque. A homeless man approached us like a centipede that is missing 98 legs. Taking a seat, he started blabbering on about stories from his youth in Croatia. A few of the more interesting stories involved crawling through mine fields and almost dying in quicksand until the police saved him (The stories were a welcome contrast to the useless jabbering we endured at the hands of the American girls we had to share a dorm with. One of the girls had a mind like a steel trap; only it had been left out too long and rusted shut. They chirped endlessly about which boys they &lsquo;made out&rsquo; with the previous night, and other useless rabble). Back at the bar our curiosity got the best of us and we asked one of the guys outside, what it was that they were chanting about &ldquo;there are two people who run this bar, one we like, one we don&rsquo;t. The one that we don&rsquo;t is working tonight, so we chant and sing because we know how stressful it is for him&rdquo;. Minutes later a &lsquo;piss bag&rsquo; was thrown from one of the residential balconies overlooking the bar, hitting the pavement like a hefty bag filled with vegetable soup. A local told us this was a regular occurrence whenever the people living close by got angered with the noise level at the bar. At closing time, everybody went down to the ocean armed with bongos, alcohol and hash. The music played into the early morning </font></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8093798.jpg?675" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5003066.jpg?667" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9162284.jpg?671" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The 5 towns are connected by a stunning hiking path</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9585495.jpg?659" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Senor Mackie</div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp; <font size="4">We bid adieu to Cinque and caught the train to Pisa. Unbeknownst to me, Pisa was once a very powerful city with one of the top navy&rsquo;s in the world, rivaling Genoa and Venice. Pisa&rsquo;s decline started at the battle of Meloria, when the numerically disadvantaged Genovese fleet destroyed them. After, the Genovese burned the port and salted the ground in the surrounding area. Florence followed and sacked the city. The Medici family (the main ruling family of Florence) set up multiple universities and research stations as they rebuilt the city. This tradition continues today, as Pisa is one of the most sought after research and university centres in Italy. Without saying, the main attraction is the leaning tower. Recently the scaffolding was taken off the leaning tower after almost 20 years! The Italians performed an engineering miracle as the foundation needed to be completely redone or run the risk of the tower falling over. They had to dig out all the soil (the reason of the lean is the soil is very poor for construction. Pisa is only a few feet above sea level and the ground is a mixture of clay and mud and cant support large structures) and replace it with a sturdier substance. Almost equally as impressive and right beside the tower are the cathedral and baptistry. This particular location for the tower and cathedral was chosen because their used to be a river flowing behind them. The river no longer exists. <br /><br />    Sadly that was the end of Morgins trip in Italy. He caught a plane back to Germany and I boarded a ferry to Sardinia. Back on two wheels, I will be spending the next month cruising around the gorgeous Mediterranean island until my next rendezvous in Milan for a John Butler Trio Concert on June 29th with some friends from Chamonix. </font><br /><br />     </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1307976708.png" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:0;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7607149.jpg?673" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8420920.jpg?673" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:0;" alt="I apologize, but i cant seem to rotate this picture. Programs not working properly" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">I apologize, but picture is refusing to be rotated.</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2858486.jpg?648" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Inside the cathedral</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5605383.jpg?644" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Solid gold roof</div></div></div>  ]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[First Bicycle Post - Courmayer to Genoa]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/05/first-bicycle-post-courmayer-to-genoa.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/05/first-bicycle-post-courmayer-to-genoa.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Tue, 31 May 2011 08:45:15 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/05/first-bicycle-post-courmayer-to-genoa.html</guid><description><![CDATA[In Chamonix before departure  &nbsp;           I thought it  [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/922941.jpg?560" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">In Chamonix before departure</div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp; <font size="3">          I thought it would be both adventurous and exciting to do a bicycle tour. I had never attempted one before, yet the idea seemed fun. As a last minute decision, I bought a mountain bike, put a rack on it with panniers, purchased a tent, sleeping bag and a few other miscellaneous items and decided to give it a go. I was a little nervous crossing the French Italien boarder, as my visa ran out a few months ago and if questioned by police/boarder control I would be deported back to Canada. Normally the EU boarders are not patrolled, however due to the unrest in North Africa, and the resulting influx of Tunisians into Italy the boarders are now being monitored with increasing frequently. Due to its proximity, Italy has had to shoulder most of the burden of the North African refugees and requested help from other EU nations. When the help wasn&rsquo;t forthcoming, Italy started packing trains with the Tunisians and sending them into France with temporary visa&rsquo;s. France responded by stopping all train traffic into its boarders from Italy. Unfortuantelly for me, this has had the result of increased police presence at the Italien-French boarder. However, the boarder crossing was easy; no cops. My friends Dolly, Chris and Issy dropped me off near Courmayer at a nice little campsite. After they left, the realization of what I was attempting started to set in. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon and I was left at a campsite with a bicycle. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I guess I should set up camp, I thought, and proceeded to set up the tent and get everything ready for the next day. Upon completion, I decided to take the ol bicycle for a test run with a 'GoPro' (it is a video camera attached to my helmet), ate supper then went to bed. I woke the next day at 6:30, both anxious and excited to start the tour. As with most new endevours, there was no rythem or system to dismantelling my camp site and packing my bicycle. It took me over an hour to get ready to depart. I ended up cycling for 7.5 hours (minus lunch and breakfast), and ended up past Cogne and into Valnontey. It is in the Gran Parc Nacional del Paradiso; Italys first national park. For the last 6 hours of my cycling, it was uphill the entire way. Cogne is high up in the alps and is such a pretty town. I was EXHAUSTED, but what a amazing day! With the anxities of my trip all but gone, my spirits were high. It is enjoyable to have good music, amazing scenery, amazing food and the knowledge that you can go anywhere you want! I ate in tiny restaurants where none of the staff spoke english and didnt have menu's (or they decided not to let me see them). The waiter would just rattle off names of foods and I would say yes to one of them randomly. With no idea of what I ordered, I was a little curious as to what was would eventually show up. For breakfast I destroyed a huge plate of pesto pasta and could feel my stomach expanding as it tried to accomidate the new guests. When one plate was cleared another took its place. This one with 2 large pieces of veal scallopini. I could hardly walk when I finished. <br /></font><br />   </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7089237.jpg?557" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The Fare thee Well crew; Dolly, Me, Issy, Chris</div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp; <font size="4">          Thus far in the trip I have had the fortune to only suffer minor hiccups along the way; I tested the tent and sleeping mat before I departed, but didnt think it was neccesary to test the sleeping bag. Big mistake. The idiots (see; fool, incompetent) at the store sold me a sleeping bag that is good to +11, even though I requested and paid for the one that is good to -4. The bag is in no way adaquate for the alps in may. I guess I will &lsquo;suck it up&rsquo; and get used to sleeping with all my clothes, toque (beanie), and sleeping bag over my face. Overall I am happy with the preparations that I did considering I have no experience attempting anything like this before. <br /><br />    My first cycling lesson; maps are great, but elevation maps are essential. I completed the first 20 km in a hour, then it took me the rest of the day to do the last 30 as it was a constant inclination. <br /><br />    I woke up in Parc nazionale del gran paradiso surrounded by the amazing italien alps. Allthough the mountains are higher on the french side, the views are sub par when compared with the Italien. The sun was shining and I enjoyed the day mountain biking. Over the next 5 hours I biked up the mountians, past waterfalls and through the small towns in Cogne. I returned at night to a 3 course supper and fell asleep immediately. When doing my research for this bike tour one of the suggestions was to eat the biggest breakfast you possible can. I am trying my best, but no matter how much I seem to eat I am hungry in a few hours. I am consuming 4 extra large meals per day and I must admit, Italy is probably the best country to have this mandate. <br /></font><br />     </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3640585.jpg?570" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Cogne in Gran Parc Nacional Del Paradiso</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6021825.jpg?571" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4777547.jpg?570" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">           <font size="4">Waking up the third day I had to say goodbye to gran parc nacional del paradiso, as it was back to touring. I began my 90 km trek at 9 am. It took almost the entire day to cycle out of the Aosta region. If you are fortunate enough to visit italy, I highly suggest visiting the area. It is famous for a series of fairy tale castle&rsquo;s that are all high up on the mountains and in direct view of each other. They used a flag system to communicate with each other back in the day. Everywhere you look you have huge mountains, with stunning castles jutting out. I cycled up to visit a few of them but as they are high up on the mountain, I couldn&rsquo;t visit all of them. After 7 hours of cycling I reached Quincinetto and subsequently collapsed into a deep sleep. The cycling gods must have been looking after me as the second I set my tent up, it started to rain. </font><br /><br />   </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9715796.jpg?577" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/814372.jpg?587" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2674409.jpg?596" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1306855613.png" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:0;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5896110.jpg?643" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp; <font size="4">By morning, the rain had stopped. I put my tent away (I am getting much quicker at this now), and started out on my grueling 100km trek to Arona on lake maggiore. Not too much to report, except I accidenteially ended up on the autostrada (bikes are prohibited for good reason, it is the italien version of the autobahn) and had to cycle till the next exit with cars and semi-trucks whizzing by. A policeman told me to get off the road. I listened&hellip; &nbsp;Near the end of the trip a strange thing happened; my penis kept falling asleep as I cycled. This is the first time in my life that I have felt this sensation. Allthought not painful, it is quite annoying and a little worrisome. If anyone knows how to remedy this, don&rsquo;t be shy! As I approached Arona there was a good 30km stretch where the all the trees smelt like perfume. I don&rsquo;t know what kind of trees they were, but I felt like I was cycling through a chanelle factory. It was pleasant. At last I arrived at Lake maggiore. Having cycled over 300 km in the last 4 days with zero training I was dually exhausted. I remember catching myself laughing at nothing and i couldn&rsquo; t seem to wipe the smile off my face as it was finally settling in that I can do this, and do this for a long time! I set up my tent and slept over 14 hours until my tent turned into a oven and was forced to face the world&hellip;<br /><br />      The next day was very relaxing. Only 35km of cycling and it was on a FLAT and beautiful road. Built on the west side of the street was old and extravagant mansions with manicured lawns. The east side gives you fantastic views of lake maggiore complete with islands and a mountain backdrop. I arrived in Serra after a hour and a half of cycling, but had to continue onto Baveno as they didnt have any campgrounds. My home for the next 3 nights was directly on the gorgeous lake. After a enjoyable supper I returned to my campsite to find three 19year old german girls had set up camp beside me. Luckily they spoke English, I must admit after a week of not having any English conversations, I really enoyed their company. We got a little tipsy off of some wine and had a pleasant night. &nbsp;<br /><br />    The following morning, I took my time getting out of bed. With no timelines and nowhere to cycle to, I relaxed, said goodbye my new german friends and headed to the ferry station to purchase a ticket to visit the Borromean islands. The first island I visited was Isolo Pescatori; a beautiful island to walk around and admire the architecture and gardens. However, it was the next island that was really spectacular. Isolo Bella has a large palace that the Borromeo family built as a summer get away. Construction had to be halted during the 1600&rsquo;s when the plague broke out. Originally, the island was bare rock and a small fishing village existed there, not so anymore. The Borromeos haulded in untold quantities of soil, and built what must be one the most amazing gardens in the world. Complete with all manner of rare birds that walk the grounds unafraid of humans. It was in this palace that the stressa conference of 1958 was held, where Mussolini along with Pierre Flandin from France and Ramsay Macdonald of England wrote a charter trying to stave off world war two. As history shows, they were unsuccessful. One of the bedrooms is called the Napoleon room, as it was here that napoleon and Josephine slept. It is rumoured that napoleons entourage was so poorly behaved that the custodian of the island actually drafted and sent a letter complaining of their behaviour. When I stayed at Mystic Springs in Canmore Canada, I had a similar letter drafted about my entourage.&nbsp;</font><br /><span></span>     <font size="4">I awoke the next morning to a rain storm. Luckily the rain ended as I finally started to move around. I am amazed at how tired my body must be; I am sleeping for 12 hours a night and would gladly keep on going. There is something refreshing about being this exhausted. Maybe it s the knowledge that the only way to feel this way is to have worked for it. A feeling that I haven&rsquo;t had for some time. On my last &lsquo;free&rsquo; day I decided to visit the last Borromean island that I wanted to see; Isolo Madre. Another fascinating island with a palace that is furnished with Italien masterpieces from the 16th to 19th century and a garden to compete with Isolo Bella. </font><br /><span></span><br /><span></span>   <br /><br />   </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9812927.jpg?591" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Isolo Bella with Borromean Palace</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3165888.jpg?606" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Napoleons Room</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/552306.jpg?600" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">part of the gardens at the palace</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2736855.jpg?598" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">All manner of rare and exotic birds walk freely amongst the tourists in the gardens</div></div></div>  <h2  style=" text-align: center; "><font size="5">The Longest day of my life followed by the day from Hell</font><br /></h2>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp;<br /><font size="4">After 2 days of relaxing, it was time to start heading south for the 250 km trek to Genoa. I had there by the 15th to meet my friend from Calgary, but living in Strasbourg; Morgin Mackie. I decided to take a small detour as I was told the views would be better in this new direction. Instead of heading directy towards Genoa I went a bit west and want through Vercelli. I was lied to. The views were quite borring, unless you find the views on highway 2 from Calgary to Edmonton exciting (sorry non canadiens). It was simply farm land after boring monotomous farm land. I had cycled about 8 hours when I decided I needed to stop. There was only one campground in the area, and it was invisible. After spending way too much time looking for it, the sky was turning dark and I decided to continue on and hopefully find somewhere else to sleep. It was around this time that the pain set it. My ass started to feel like I spent the day in prison. Every 10 minutes I would re-adjust myself on the seat and this brought a sharp pain as the blood once again flowed to my behind. After 10 hours of riding, and the sky completely dark I had to stop. Before I started the tour, I told myself that I would treat myself to a hotel once every 2 weeks. I couldn&rsquo;t think of a better night. I carried on until I saw the first hotel sign. I must admit, that when it is dark out, it is quite scary when cars are whizzing by you in the dark. Luckily I found a nice hotel with a very sympathetic doorman, to stay for the night. The next day when I went onto google maps, I realized to my shock that I had cycled over 160 km the previous day! At this rate, I thought, I would be in Genoa in no time. How wrong I was.<br /><br />    Even after sleeping 12 hours, when I awoke, I was exhausted. My vision blurry and each step felt like a task. I hopped on my bike somewhat satisfied with the knowledge that I didn&rsquo;t have too much farther to go today. Only 80km. I climbed onto my bike and slogged out onto the highway. To my grave dismay, it was windy. Very windy. Coming straight at me. Cycling lesson number 2: The wind can make or break you. Cycling became more akin to walking. Everytime I stopped pedalling, my bike would abrublty stop as if I had pulled on my breaks. I set a grueling pace at less &nbsp;then 5km an hour. Everything started to annoy me, even the other cyclists. They all seemed to be heading in the opposite direction, with the wind at their back, on bikes with thin tires and no baggage going almost as fast as the cars. Then there was me; crawling along as slow as a herd of snails traveling through peanut buter. I swear one of them was even laughing at me. I continued on for 5-6 hours in which I covered next to no distance. The pain in my butt was becoming unbearable. When I got off my bike and walked around my butt was on fire, like someone was holding a lighter to it. Eventually I made it out of the farm land with the harsh wind and into the hills that protect genoa from the north. I found a campsite in a lovely town called Montoggio. I Set up camp and promptly lied down. Not a moment too soon as a heavy rain and wind storm blew in. I slept 14 hours and once again, woke up exhausted. I almost collapsed when I stood as my thighs were quiting on me. Today would be better I told myself. I had but 30 km to go. The rain and wind of the previous night completely rid the sky of any clouds. It was sunny, not too hot and I was surrounded by pleasant rolling hills. I had good music playing on my ipod and enjoyed the entire ride to Genoa. I had been warned that Genoa is not a very esthetically pleasing city. However, there is lots of history in this city. After all it is the birthplace of Christopher Columbus and some of the surrounding buildings and palaces speak to the lost grandeur this city must have once had. In 2004 it was voted as a European centre of culture. At one point it was the most important port in the world. Upon arrival I checked into the hostel where I would be meeting Morgin, had a shower, got a coffee and a pizza and wrote the rest of my blog. Now I am going to sleep. <br /></font><br />     </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3056921.jpg?634" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Finally arrived in Genoa</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1840827.jpg?634" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Piazza de Ferrari (Genoa's main square)</div></div></div>  ]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Malawi, Zambia and the meeting of Son of Karl]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/05/malawi-zambia-and-the-meeting-of-son-of-karl.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/05/malawi-zambia-and-the-meeting-of-son-of-karl.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sun, 22 May 2011 06:26:18 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2011/05/malawi-zambia-and-the-meeting-of-son-of-karl.html</guid><description><![CDATA[The next bit of the blog may be a little confusing. It is now almost a year since we were in Malawi and Zambia, however we are commited to finishing our blog from our trip to Africa. In addition, Dan is currently cycling through Italy and is going to start posting his cycling blog concurrently with the african part.    [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; "><font size="3">The next bit of the blog may be a little confusing. It is now almost a year since we were in Malawi and Zambia, however we are commited to finishing our blog from our trip to Africa. In addition, Dan is currently cycling through Italy and is going to start posting his cycling blog concurrently with the african part. </font><br /></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2536875.jpg?609" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Tom taking our security guards bow and firing it into the forest" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Tom taking our security guards bow and firing it into the forest after a heavy night of drinking</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/897866395.jpg?629" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">           <font size="3">We were excited for our next leg of the tour as we transited across the border into the lovely little lush sliver of land known as Malawi. At this point we were set to meet Toms legendary friend Anders Karlsson (aka Son of Karl), a school-mate of Toms from his time as an exchange student in Korea last year. Anders hails from the cold and barren land of the Vikings, now currently designated as the country of Sweden, where people don&rsquo;t really do much of anything, including the politicians. </font>We got off to a raucous start at the Mzuzuzu Hostel in Northern Malawi. We were spending the night in a barn when a hot and heavy dance party broke out. It was an all night affair, as we sung along to Queen hits, and practiced our bow hunting skills by firing arrows into the campsite. Dan came down with a severe case of mass discharge (horrendous diarrhea with unstoppable vomiting).<font size="3"> The next night started out similarily as the previous; heavy drinking and partying. We befriended two local police officers who insited on taking us around town to party. The officers, named Stanley and Douglas took us to one bar that was chalked full of prostitues. Stanley commented &ldquo;First we arrest them, then we fuck them&rdquo;, or &ldquo;first we fuck them, then we arrest them&rdquo;. Thankfully they didn&rsquo;t arrest any hookers that night. </font><br />     </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2953974.jpg?663" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The view of lake malawi from our cabin</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/517178946.jpg?529" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/974015096.jpg?635" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/321665414.jpg?640" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp;           <font size="3">We woke up early the next day and made our way to the little piece of paradise known as Nkhata Bay. Lake Malawi is an extremely deep chasm in the earth, as its formed from two tectonic plates moving apart, forming part of the rift valley that runs from Mozambique all the way up to Israel. We spent the days there snorkeling amongst the colourful fish of schistomiasis infected Lake Malawi, and living in a private chalet held up by stilts on the waters edge for less than $5 a night. We made new friends of various ethnicities including life long friends with our Japanese and Korean fellow travelers who we would run into many more times in our travels, as well as a little black cat that has a special place in our hearts forever. We made friends with locals with such names as Lemon Squeezy, Happy Coconut, Cool Breeze and Fresh Coconut. Anders adopted the alter ego of Coconut Biscuit, and Tom became simply Bouncer. We went for a late night fishing trip where we ended up putting more fish into the lake than we took out, in the form of bait. But it was a great time out in the moonlight on our bobbing little raft. Although we thought about stealing the cat, we thought it might pose too many problems at the border, so we opted to leave him sleeping on the porch. We left Nkhata Bay for the capital city Lilongwe. </font>However we somehow ended up picking up a stray female German tourist, who scraggled along with us. However this turned out to be a poor decision, as we lost our seats in the car, and Dan and Tom ended up having to hitch-hike almost the entire length of Malawi, which involved an incredible amount of time sitting at the roadside eating semi-ripened papayas and banana&rsquo;s with police officers.<font size="3"> We were very happy to arrive at Mabuya Camp in the big city 18 hours later. We spent a few days in the city, attending the grand opening of the new parliament buildings; yet another project in Africa funded entirely by the Chinese government. It was a grandiose affair, however slightly bewildering and confusing. After a little R&amp;R at the pool the four of us headed out for our next destination, Zambia. <br /></font><br />   </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/111337671.jpg?641" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">New, Chinese constructed parliment buildings</div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp;<font size="3">Zambia <br /><br />  The trip into Zambia was rather uneventful with the usual cast of characters on the bus including a rather impassioned preacher who cursed our souls to damnation before we headed out onto the bumpy dusty roads of Eastern Zambia. After many hours by car we ended up in a place that cannot be described in words. We were staying on the banks of the Luangwe River, at maybe the coolest place we have ever stayed in our lives. We had accommodation in luxury safari tents where we were graced with the presence of 6,000 lb Hippos who would migrate out of the river every night and munch on the grass all around our tents. It was actually extremely dangerous, and Anders and Tom foolishly chased the hippos on a few occasions, and risked life and limb trying to inspect the hippos around the camp. The hippo is the most dangerous animal in Africa, killing more people than any other animal, especially when they come out of the water at night and become ultra aggressive. However, during the day they wallow in the river barking and bellowing all day long, providing endless entertainment for the humans on shore. The river is also full of Crocodiles, whereas the camp itself is inhabited with all kinds of animals. One day we came back to our tent to discover that all of our bags had been ripped apart, and our stuff was strewn everywhere, we realized quickly that the culprit was not a human but some baboons who jimmied the tent door, and proceeded to open every zipper on all of our bags, taking nothing but a little box of coconut biscuits from Anders&rsquo; bag. The camp also had a swimming pool with a slide where we spent many hours in the heat of the Zambian sun, drinking amarula&rsquo;s and doing back-flips and dives into the pool. Our game drives through the park could not have been filled with more animals, and we all agree that this was maybe the most enjoyable game park we have been to in Africa as of yet. As previously alluded to in the blog, we managed to finally see the very illusive Leopard. Not only did we see one, but during our night drive, after seeing one leopard in a tree during daylight, we spotted another one thanks to the screeching of the baboons in a nearby tree giving the warning call for leopards. The cat ended up crossing right in front of our truck, and sat directly in front of us on the road. Then we noticed what the baboons were really screaming at, as we shone the flood light over to the tree and realized there was ANOTHER leopard climbing the tree to kill and eat one of the baboons. However, luckily for the baboons, leopards are extremely territorial animals, and the two of them, faced off in a challenge for territory. The larger one chased off the smaller one, literally no more than 15 feet from our car as they ran past. Just when we thought it couldn&rsquo;t get any crazier, a lone Hyena came rushing into the scene to try and take advantage of the pandemonium of the whole fiasco. All of this while we sat in the back of an open top land cruiser with no roof, or doors. Our guide who has been doing this for over 30 years has never seen anything so hectic in his whole career.&nbsp; As everything must come to an end, we sadly departed Flat-Dogs camp at South Luangwe park, and we were lucky to find a half priced flight clear across Zambia to Victoria Falls, the biggest waterfall in the world. Poor Anders was not so lucky, and had to take more than 30 hours of buses to meet us in Vic Falls more than 3 days later.  </font></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9186526.jpg?642" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8939455.jpg?638" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">swimming with Amarula's</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7660591.jpg?637" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">One of the leopards chasing the baboons</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/273995085.jpg?636" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>  <div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">           <font size="3">Anders arrived all bleary-eyed just as Tom and Dan were departing for an all you can drink booze cruise on the Zambezi river, where we indulged ourselves in strong drink as we lazed past some of the biggest crocodiles and hippos we had seen yet in all of Africa. The skippers on board the boat gave us good company and scenery. They were blessed with the remarkable names of Carrington, Boniface and Greensons. It became a tumultuous night with our new friends, as we terrorized the town, and Jolly Boys backpackers where a few dozen of us whiled away the night in the hot tub and pool, coercing with local rastas and gypsys alike. Tom arrived home without his beloved sandals, however he was adorned with a new hat as well as some jewellery given to him by our rasta friends. We were all excited the next day to go with the now recuperated Anders to the incredible spectacle of Victoria Falls. Victoria Falls is a gorge where the Zambezi river flows with over 1 million cubic metres of water per second, and the mist rises far into the air like a towering skyscraper. Not only was the water at peak flow for the year, but freak rain-falls in Angola made the flow larger and stronger than it had been for many years, making the falls as spectacular as they ever get. The spray from the falls as you get close can only be compared to being doused with a fire hose, and within seconds you are drenched to the core. We were foolish enough to bring books and passports in our bags, and ended up leaving the area with many litres of water soaked into our various belongings. The border between Zambia and Zimbabwe is a bridge that straddles the Zambezi river gorge, where the adrenaline junkie Dan decided to bungy jump into the gorge. It is 110M high, and Dan did a combo of one bungy jump, and a gorge swing where you jump off the platform and then swing out into the gorge. After the excitement, we crossed into the fascinating country of Zimbabwe.<br /></font><br />     </div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6818603.jpg?629" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Dan trying the gorge swing at victoria falls</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8189378.jpg?622" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The top of victoria falls</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/471484903.jpg?642" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">You are allowed to walk across the lip of victoria falls. We didnt.</div></div></div>  <div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8875161.jpg?596" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Victoria Falls</div></div></div>  ]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Tanzania and Zanzibar]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/11/tanzania-and-zanzibar.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/11/tanzania-and-zanzibar.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 22 Nov 2010 15:12:42 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/11/tanzania-and-zanzibar.html</guid><description><![CDATA[            [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4217442.jpg?427" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">           <span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Our first taste of Tanzania was in the coastal city of Dar Es Salaam (City of Peace). We tried to head directly to the docks where we would catch a 3 hour ferry out to the island of Zanzibar. However, the Tanzanian cops pulled over our taxi and held onto the drivers keys for a while until he was finally offered a satisfactory bribe. Afterwards, we managed to get a ferry ticket and board the ship within minutes of its scheduled departure for the Island. Before we knew it, we could see the strange skyline of Stone Town, the main city of Zanzibar. One of the most unique places on earth, stone town, is a melting pot of the different cultures and influences that have come and gone over the centuries. We were in a totally new environment from the jungles of the central continent, and were now surrounded by exotic looking forts and castles, as well as a strong Islamic vibe amongst the people. The island was an old sultanate run by the Omani arabs, and was itself an independent country of Arab traders dealing in all the rich resources of Africa including Ivory and slaves. However, in the 1960&rsquo;s the black population revolted, killing most of the many thousands of arabs who had been living there, and all that is left is their culture, architecture and the occasional descendant of the once numerous arabs. The food was delicious at the nightly seafood market where whole lobsters cost no more than 3 or 4 dollars, and all manner of squids, octopus and other rare animals are barbecued on command. Perhaps the most unique architectural remanent are the large and masterfully crafted wooden doors adorning many of the buildings. Looking at the entrances, one can imagine what life may have been like when stone town was a bustling arab port city.</span> </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6326976.jpg?654" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6612564.jpg?655" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Our 5$ night hotel</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5001794.jpg?377" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Amazing door in Zanzibar</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/16478.jpg?635" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; "><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">After connecting with Sybille, we walked along the beach front watching the local kids running off the pier and doing all manner of gymnastic maneuvers into the ocean, for the benefit of on-looking tourists. It was good to see Sybille, as it was a little bit of home for us, and she had many stories to tell as she had just finished projects working in war-torn Congo, and before that helping out in Haiti after the earthquake there. Two days later, we took a taxi to the north of Zanzibar where the famous white sand beaches are located. For 5$ a night, we secured a room directly on the beach. The air was hot and humid, but being surrounded by crystal turquoise blue waters and perfect sandy beaches; life was good! After befriending the local rastas, we spent many nights listening to reggae music and having a fire on the beach. When Saturday night rolled around, the rastas took us to the popluar tourist disco. The place was filled with many gap year European students and local men (since Zanzibar is muslim, the local women are nowhere to be found at many tourist destinations, especially ones that have alcohol and foreign men). We danced the night away, and watched many of the European women become severely intoxicated and leave the bar with the local beach boys; a surprising revelation as the HIV rate in Zanzibar hovers near 40%. <span style="">&nbsp;</span>One week in blessed Zanzibar and it was time to part ways with Sybille. </span> </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7504511.jpg?664" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5033437.jpg?664" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/100935.jpg?641" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8446813.jpg?632" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Kids jumping off the pier</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph editable-text" style=" text-align: left; ">&nbsp;           <span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">We headed back for the mainland on our ferry across the channel and slept one night in Dar Es Salaam. Early the next morning we left for the train station to take our 2 day Trans-Tanzanian train south to the Malawi Boarder. It was a nice reminder of our Trans Mongolian-Siberian train trip of the previous summer. The Tanzanian rail line had been built by the Chinese in the &lsquo;60&rsquo;s as part of Mao Tse Tungs efforts to push communism on Africans. However, the train hasn&rsquo;t seen a lot of maintenance in the last 40 years. Tanzanian Railways has somewhat of a tradition of killing their passengers and the sight of many overturned and de-railed rail cars along the route was a little too common for our liking. The ride was very enjoyable, and looking out the window was similar to watching a national geographic program. We passed directly through one of Tanzania&rsquo;s most famous National Parks, and from the comfort of our cabin we rolled past groups of Giraffe and Buffalo, as well as countless Zebra and Wilderbeest. It was like a free game drive while being catered to by the train staff, and an endless supply of tea and coffee was brought to us as we lounged about gazing out the window. We were excited for our next leg of the tour as we transited across the border into the lovely little lush sliver of land known as Malawi</span> </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8664333.jpg?588" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2679623.jpg?565" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3523303.jpg?613" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8498292.jpg?428" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7578234.jpg?625" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">You feel safe seeing this beside the tracks</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7179941.jpg?614" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Another impressive African tree</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8880204.jpg?605" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Girafes walking by the train</div></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Uganda as seen and retold by two assholes]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/08/uganda-as-seen-and-retold-by-two-assholes.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/08/uganda-as-seen-and-retold-by-two-assholes.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Thu, 05 Aug 2010 06:32:25 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/08/uganda-as-seen-and-retold-by-two-assholes.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Chimpanzee's in Kibale [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7766292.jpg?451" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Chimpanzee's in Kibale</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">: As we walked across the bridge border from </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kenya</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> to </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, we had no idea what was to come. Looking back, it ended up being one of our favourite countries and we had some of the best times in that blessed little kingdom. Although we had some attempted pick pockets greet us as we got off the bus in </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kampala</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, it would be our only bad experience in the country. The bus ride into </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> revealed one of the most lush and green environments we could have ever imagined. We were excited to see what this little country with such a big reputation would offer us. We settled in immediately to the Red Chili Backpackers, which had almost as many vervet monkeys as guests staying there. It also included a 500lb pig and several goats and chickens running amuck in the bar at night. One particular goat had a nasty habit of stealing guests food in the bar, and caused himself and the owner much anxiety as was routinely chased and kicked around the building. The Red Chili Backpackers is a little enclave of activity tucked away in the city, where every night is a raging party with a great mix of locals and foreigners breaking it down. We couldn&rsquo;t help but spend a few days there, soaking up the atmosphere and frolicking with monkeys at the poolside. </span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9964824.jpg?492" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Walking across the border from Kenya to Uganda</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3941527.jpg?511" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Nasty Goat fucking around</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7992133.jpg?469" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Vervet Monkey</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp; <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">After we left </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kampala</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> we decided to split up and go our separate ways for about 2 weeks. Dan wanted to do a hike in the </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Rwenzori</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Mountains</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, and Tom wanted to track Chimpanzees in the Congo Rainforest. Dans hike was a little more than was anticipated, and turned out to be a full on tumultuous expedition. Most of the 10 day hike was in waist deep bogs, until it turned into a sheer blizzard like any he had experienced in </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Canada</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. It was a strange feeling to be only 40 kms from the equator while being immersed in a torrential blizzard. Dan crossed through 11 ecological zones, starting in lush tropical jungle, and ending up clamouring across glaciers on a blizzardous mountainside. The final ascent was on Stanley Glacier (the 3rd highest peak in </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Africa</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">), where all members of the team have ice picks, cramp ons and are harnessed and roped to each other so if one person falls through the ice, the others could pull him to safety. The lead guide, Jehosephat fell through a crevice, but was quick enough to put his arms out and save himself. Another guide, Benard, slid down the whole side of the mountain into a glacier lake, ending up with a swollen and busted hand. At the end of the 10 day trek, there was an immense feeling of joy from Dan, the two guides and 6 porters as they arrived safely in civilization. </span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3255014.jpg" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Heres Me and someone</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1890752.jpg?494" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4990937.jpg?502" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The crevice my guide fell into</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5707855.jpg?476" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Meanwhile, Tom headed out to a place called the </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Impenetrable</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Forest</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. It is part of the </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Congo</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> basin of vast steaming jungle in the absolute heart of the African continent. Tom stayed in a tree-house, high up in the rainforest canopy. The tree house was 3 kms from the nearest building and his time there was some of the greatest times of his life. The life that exists in that forest is overwhelming. He happened to be there during a once every 4 year butterfly migration, and at one point every square inch of my body was covered in butterflies as he sat high up on his tree top balcony. You could hear the torrential rainstorms as they came from kilometers away. They come down with such ferocity that you can hardly hear yourself scream over the deafening roar of the raging storm. </span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2853473.jpg?283" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The Tree-House</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2261872.jpg?465" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Chilling on my porch</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp; He spent many nights walking through the jungle with his headlamp on.<span style="">&nbsp; </span>The most amazing thing Tom did was head out to track Chimpanzees, our brothers from other mothers. After walking with his guide for a little over 2 hours, as they noticed half eaten fruit all around our feet was when the chimps started to scream and hoot from the treetops incredibly loudly. Without them even realizing they had stumbled into the midst of over 150 chimpanzees, and they came down immediately to see who we were. They came crashing through the bush and banged their fists on the tree trunks to display their strength, eventually becoming calmer and coming right up to them, equally fascinated with us, as we were with them. Some of the males weigh in excess of 200lbs and <span style="">&nbsp;</span>certainly feel more like being amongst a group of humans rather than animals. The whole time in the jungle was such an amazing experience, as Tom was the only visitor the park had for 2 weeks, and the only person to stay at the treehouse in the last month. Tom felt very sad to leave that place after his 10 days, but was excited to see what would happen next.<br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/774761.gif?496" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The Impenetrable Forest</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/107244.jpg?458" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Our cousins</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">We regrouped on the shores of </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Lake</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Bunyoni</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> in southern </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> at Kalebas Cam; a tiny camp<span style="">&nbsp; </span>directly on the lakeshore. We had no idea how wild the next 7 days would be. It was good to be back together again, and we were eager to share our experiences with each other.<span style="">&nbsp; </span>We could not have hoped for a better place to share stories. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Lake</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Bunyoni</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> is a gorgeous lake set in amongst terraced hillsides, and is itself over 2,000 metres deep. The local people come and go on their dugout canoes, and there is a real sense of peace in the area. That peace was only to be broken by the escapades of the two of us, and our now legendary new friends Roland Krol, and&hellip;&hellip;ULF. Things started off slowly as we got to know Roland who is the Dutch owner of this camp. His long time friend and confidant Ulf, a german man. It quickly became an episode of Fear and Loathing in </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, as we discovered our new friends were maybe the two craziest people we have ever met in our lives. Without an ounce of exaggeration, Ulf is far and away, the funniest human being either Dan or Tom has ever met in their very short and brutish lives. To give some idea of who Ulf is, he is a 62 year old man, with an 18 year old Ugandan girlfriend, and his escapades include; swinging from the rafters of a local bar, collapsing the entire roof of the building on to its patrons, waking up in the bar the next day at 3PM as his flight was scheduled to be leaving from Kampala, offering to pay the bill by pulling out his gold teeth which of course the bar owner excused him of when he couldn&rsquo;t bear the sight of Ulf trying to rip out his teeth. Performing cunnilingus on his young girlfriend in the midst of a packed bar of disbelieving onlookers, until the local police threatened to arrest the group of us if we didn&rsquo;t leave. One morning we decided to bring Ulf a shot of tequila in bed, as he had done for us so many times, and he rubbed the lemons all over his penis as a practical joke on his unsuspecting girlfriend. The days of the camp were spent in extreme tumultulism, as Roland decided to close the gates and declare the camp closed to the public. It was a heady concoction of early morning tequila shots and countless bottles of wine and Nile Gold. Ulf had a penchant for skinny dipping and rolling around naked at inappropriate times. After Ulf failed at ordering a palette of beer by helicopter, we settled for our quickly diminishing supply of elixirs. During our time in that part of </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Southern Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> a bad batch of local moonshine was going around. The home-made alcohol was lethal, and was killing more people in the area than they could keep track of. Luckily we didn&rsquo;t try any of it, as Roland had warned us beforehand. What was most unsettling about this was that these particular people sound a huge drum from on top of the hill whenever someone dies. It became very disturbing when we realized every morning as the drum rang out across the lake that each bang represented another person dead from the night before. It was with a wretched liver and a teary eye that we bid adieu to our larger than life friends and headed out for the border into </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Rwanda</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">.</span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4678055.jpg?514" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Here comes Ulf with a tray of shots</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6096276.jpg?512" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;    As we had over extended our stay in Uganda, we had no more than 2 days in Rwanda.<span style="">&nbsp; </span>This suited us just fine, as thiere was a eerie feeling on the streets that stemmed from the aftermath of the genocide in 1994. Even in our short time there, we realized that Rwanda is far different from the rest of Africa. For whatever reason, the Rwandan&rsquo;s are very organized and orderly. The streets are all paved, devoid of garbage and traffic lights at every necessary cornet. It is maybe the only place in Africa where the pedestrians have the right of way. With our deadline to meet Toms family friend Sybille on the island of Zanzibar off the coast of Tanzania, we headed off eager to be back on the beach.<span style="">&nbsp; </span><br /><br />  </div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Kenya: The Lap of Luxury]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/08/kenya-the-lap-of-luxury.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/08/kenya-the-lap-of-luxury.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Wed, 04 Aug 2010 10:51:27 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/08/kenya-the-lap-of-luxury.html</guid><description><![CDATA[ [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7809514.jpg?467" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;    <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Our Ethiopian Airlines flight out of Addis, which was nearly empty, was enjoyable, however expensive. In an interesting business plan, the government owned and funded Ethiopian Airlines has decided to fly Addis to Nairobi 6 times a week but clearly the demand is not even close to that, as our flight was maybe 10% full at best. This explains both why such a short flight ended up being so expensive, and why Ethiopian Airlines year after year loses far more money than it brings in. Just one of the many mysterious business practices that we fail to comprehend. Ethiopian Airlines is routinely awarded as </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Africa</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">&rsquo;s best performing airline, given the amount of the gross annual budget it eats up, it is indeed a generous and costly burden that the almost entirely bankrupt Ethiopian government chooses to shoulder for the convenience of countless aid workers and regional business men alike. Keeping in mind that 40% of the Ethiopian economy is made up of foreign aid, and that the country is almost entirely devoid of schools, hospitals or any transport infrastructure, the airline is a rather conspicuous priority for the government to continue to uphold. With all of that aside, we were very happy to see how green and lush the plains of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Kenya</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> looked as our plane got closer to </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Nairobi</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">, a stark contrast to the somewhat dry and dusty landscapes of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Ethiopia</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">. In retrospect, </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Ethiopia</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> ended up being by far the poorest and least developed country either of us had ever seen before. </span><br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4916355.jpg?472" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Bustling Metropolis of Nairobi</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C03%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Dans cousin Riz (aka Rizla), picked us up at the </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Nairobi</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> airport and we could immediately tell that things were going to be different in </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kenya</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. After not being in a private vehicle for many months, the simple joy of being picked up in a luxurious Land Rover, with air conditioning and self operating windows, as well as being on paved roads was almost too much for the weary travelers to bear. After a short stint through the horrendous </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Nairobi</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> traffic we pulled into Riz&rsquo;s first class gated community. We felt like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as we rolled up to Riz&rsquo;s crib (aka The Riz Carlton), set in palatial gardens with house staff and private chauffeur at our beck and call, topped off with a swimming pool and full workout gym, we took full use of the amenities to get some serious R&amp;R. Riz didn&rsquo;t waste any time getting us acquainted with the Nairobi night life, and we spent many glorious nights out on the town at our favourite haunt, Gypsys Bar. Gypsys was an interesting mix of upper class Kenyans; including Nairobis large Inidan population, the ever ubiquitous foreign volunteers and local prostitutes.</span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4822065.jpg?482" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The Riz Carlton</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C04%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  <span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Within days Riz&rsquo;s friends had set us up to go on a tour around </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kenyas</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> national parks, including the world renowned Masaai Mara Game Reserve, and </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Lake</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Nakuru</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Park</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. The savannah grasslands of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kenya</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> are absolutely teeming with wildlife, and although the rolling plains seemed like a bit of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Saskatchewan</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> back home, the sheer density and variety of the animals reminded us that we were nowhere near </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Regina</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. The animals move in the thousands in this area, and we could not believe what we were seeing at any given time. We were immersed into a world with Prides of lions wandering around, cape buffalos and giraffes all over the place, hippos bobbing up and down in the rivers, a lone slinking cheetah and literally hundreds of thousands of grazers moving like giant swarms of bees across the land. We were extremely lucky in Masaai Mara, seeing most of the famous animals of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Africa</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> including driving right through the middle of a giant group of 49 elephants. After our first drive through the park, we were pretty shocked to see that we were staying in small pup tents no more than 1 kilometer from a group of lions we had seen only minutes before heading to camp. Luckily we had an armed Masaai warrior keeping watch of us that night as we slept in our own individual tents. We were comforted by the fact that this man had personally killed a full grown lion when he was only 15 years old, armed with nothing but a spear. Fortunately this coming of age ritual is no longer practiced making our warrior friend a rare individual these days. Going to the bathroom at night was a bit hectic, as the sounds of the bush really become amplified then, as well as the fact that our headlamps attracted so many small insects that you can literally not breathe when its turned on in front of your face. At one point during the night we were woken <span style="">&nbsp;</span>by the commotion of a group of laughing Hyenas taking down an old Cape Buffalo, which itself is an extremely formidable animal. If nothing else, we were glad they had something to eat besides us.</span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5863864.jpg?484" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Masaai Mara</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5945645.jpg" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Masaai Warrior</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9232292.jpg?485" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5624915.jpg?488" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C05%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> From the Masaai Mara we headed up to </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Lake </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Nakuru</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, a somewhat putrid sulphur lake full of giggling gaggling Pink Flamingoes, the beauty of these amazing birds was marked by the distinct smell of their guano as the lake recedes during the dry season revealing a thick layer of it around the shore. This park is also one of the last holdouts of the extremely rare White Rhino. More than any other animal, the Rhino made us feel as if we were truly in Jurassic Park, and we managed to see 3 of them around that lake. At one point we had a very aggressive Baboon rush our truck and try to jump in one of the windows after we challenged him to a staring competition after being specifically told not to look him in the eyes. However the one animal we were unable to see in </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Kenya</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> was the leopard, but this would change eventually when we got to </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Zambia</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> later. </span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2619234.jpg?497" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4812638.jpg?520" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Our home no more than 1km from a group of Lions</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C06%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  <span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">The sheer friendship of Riz and all his buddies that we met made us sad and a little reluctant to leave. But alas we got on board an all too familiar bus for a 14 hour drive across the border into </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Uganda</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. Although we didn&rsquo;t get to see the most typical side of Kenyan life, it was a fascinating glimpse into the other side of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Africa</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, where the privileged few rub shoulders at exclusive locales where a drink may cost more than the daily salary of the average labourer. It is as much a part of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Africa</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> as the usual poverty and suffering associated with the continent, and it offered us a much more holistic perspective of what must be one of the most diverse places on earth.</span></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9594571.jpg?531" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Its not all fun and games in the bush, some just don't have what it takes.</div></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Ethiopia Experience]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/04/the-ethiopia-experience.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/04/the-ethiopia-experience.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sun, 11 Apr 2010 12:57:34 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/04/the-ethiopia-experience.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Old monk [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8569009.jpg?479" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Old monk</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;   Our first few days in Addis were spent fruitlessly trying to organize rental cars and trips to southern Ethiopia. We wanted to go visit the people of the Omo  Valley, one of the most isolated tribes left on earth, however, the area is almost inaccessible and costs a small fortune to arrange. <span style="">&nbsp;</span>However we got a good feeling for the city with Toms friend Seifu helping us get settled in. After much deliberation about the Omo Valley we decided to forego the trip to the south in favour of a trip to lake Tana and the North. To begin we endured a grueling 14 hr minibus ride with 16 people and a baby, in a vehicle comfortable for 6 people. Tom was in great discomfort as he was effectively cooked by the motor which it turned out he was sitting on top of. On the pleasantly scenic drive to Bahir Dar we were fortunate enough to witness the Blue  Nile gorge complete with several overturned trucks. A fair number of burnt out tanks from the civil wars of the 80&rsquo;s were visible on the side of the road, sadly we never got any pictures of. We arrived in the beautiful lake side town of Bahir Dar (meaning &ldquo;beside the lake&rdquo; in Amharic). Our hotel was like a Garden of Eden, complete with large fig trees that the hotel had built around and an impressive array of tropical birds. We had great views across Ethiopia&rsquo;s largest lake which is teeming with hippos, crocodiles and 10-foot wingspan Pelicans. We spent our days walking around the lake, taking boat tours to the source of the Nile, (Lake Tana is one of two lakes in Africa that combine their waters to make the Nile River) <span style="">&nbsp;</span>watching hippo&rsquo;s and gigantic pelicans, exploring some of the numerous monasteries in the lakeside area, as well as meeting all manner of folks from around the world. Our friend Bisrat (the owner of the hotel), introduced us to a semi-addictive, cocaine like stimulant leaf known as quat. It is extremely popular (and legal) in this area and is a cultural experience to behold. We spent several days chewing quat and chatting with our new found rag-tag local friends. The nightlife was spectacular; we must have done our hair properly, as we couldn&rsquo;t shake off all the women with a stick. It was tempting, tantalizing and torturous. We had over 30 offers of marriage in as many minutes, well, not really, but had we understood Amharic that might have been what they were saying. We spent some quality time making new friends and exploring the local area, including the less than spectacular Blue Nile Falls, at one time the second largest waterfall in Africa, (after Victoria Falls in Zambia) it has now been reduced to two small flows, each only a few metres wide. It used to be almost 600 metres across before a large Hydro-Electric Dam reduced the flow down to what we saw, as well as the lack of rain-fall in Ethiopia over the last few years. All in all the day&rsquo;s in Bahir Dar were thoroughly enjoyed, however, we eventually found it high time to leave with our new friends Daisy and Joyce. <br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5031693.jpg?494" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Chewin chat with ol Bizrat</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3014033.jpg?486" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The once-impressive Blue Nile Falls</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2629902.jpg?470" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Well i'll be damned</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;    The four of us had decided to take the road less traveled and we got spots on a local cargo ship across Laka Tana. As almost no faranji&rsquo;s (tourists) take this boat, it gave us a great opportunity to see some parts of Ethiopia where the local populace had never seen outsiders. Stopping on islands and small little villages and markets along the way we were bombarded by children all fighting for a position next to us. As the trip was scheduled to be 2 days long, we had to spend a night in a small town called Konzula. After catching a soccer game with a troop of local fanatical children we retired to our &ldquo;hotel&rdquo; there. Although its difficult to complain after only paying $2/night, we felt we got ripped off. We also can&rsquo;t complain that the toilets or showers didn&rsquo;t work since these had been reduced to nothing more than a tumultuously sour pit dug out near the back of the hotel. However, the bathrooms weren&rsquo;t too difficult to deal with, after realizing that the walls themselves were constructed from the excrement of local livestock. To punctuate it all off, as Tom swung shut the corrugated tin door to his room he was none too surprised to see both a stash of used condoms and a large contingent of near tarantula sized spiders nesting on the back of his door. Fortunately Dan only woke up with bed bug bites all over his body, whereas Tom was also subjected to spider bites to compliment his bed bug bites, including a clearly defined fang mark on his ear-lobe. The sound of the rats scurrying throughout the walls only added to the hilarity of the situation. <span style="">&nbsp;</span>The second day on the boat was no less eventful, but the sunstroke was borderline life threatening. Our day was spent chasing meager bastions of shade in a futile effort to avoid early-onset skin cancer. Another task on the boat was learning how to avoid the constant barrage of 3 and 5 word conversations with the locals. We were all too happy to arrive late that evening in Gorgora. <br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7280242.jpg?491" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The cargo ship</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7239999.jpg?491" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4785879.jpg?510" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The 'hotel' in Konzula</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><br /></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"> The only accommodations in Gorgora are the eerily vacant, yet beautiful government hotel where the local staff essentially kicked us out after indulging in the local alcoholic vinegar (wine) with Daisy and Joyce who we got along with famously. The next day we hitched a ride with a local black market tef dealer into the ancient capital city of Gonder. <span style="">&nbsp;</span>A slightly more impressive city than most, being dominated by a huge 16th century castle as well as the most famous church in the universe (amongst Ethiopians). The castle was among the more impressive of Ethiopians historical sites and the fact that nobody was there made it that much more intriguing. It was one of the most unique castles either of us had ever seen, with a style all its own as well as old lions cages and accessible dungeons and torture chambers. That night we went out with a bang, saying goodbye to our fellow explorer&rsquo;s Daisy and Joyce whom we will always have a fond place in our hearts for. We departed Gonder in all too familiar circumstances; horrible local transportation. In a once again over crowded bus ride we endured a spine jarring 4 hour bus ride along roads that could be described as motocross tracks, capped off by a local superstition that open windows blow in diseases and sickness. This particular superstition was among the most frustrating and irrational beliefs to deal with in this kind of situation. <br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3196684.jpg?477" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Gondor Castle</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2708178.jpg?487" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7225549.jpg?482" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Paintings on inside of church</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;   We arrived in Debark and organized our trip for the Simien Mountains the next day. Debark is the launching point for trekking into the Simien Mountains. It was to be a 5 day, 96km hike up to 4000m above sea level (which is 400m higher then the highest mountain peak in Alberta; Mount Columbia). Our trek included 1 guide, 1 local ak-47 wielding armed security-guard, 1 cook, 2 mules and their mulemen; for the price of $30/day each. Day 1 was a grueling 30km incline up to the first base camp. Starting out from the town of Debark with our 7 man contingent we made our way out through the villages and onto the steep incline up the face of the plateau. The gorges drop off on all sides around, and literally thousands of baboons abound in the area. The baboons are extremely approachable and you can literally walk amongst them. They are the Gelada Baboon and they only live in Ethiopia. The park also includes the very illusive Ethiopian Wolf (also endemic to Ethiopia), Hyena&rsquo;s and the extremely rare Mountain Leopard (there are thought to be about 10 of them in the whole park). After an unbelievable rainstorm and a night of heavy drinking with a group of 22 Slovenians we bedded down in our dank and moist army-issue canvas tent. The next morning Tom had seen enough after witnessing scores of the baboons and seeing plenty of scenery the previous day, he chalked it up to a success after completing perhaps the most difficult hike in his life, in one of the most amazing places. Tom decided to spend the next 3 days back in Debark where he made quite a name for himself experimenting with multiple local beverages, including honey-wine and a Pennzoil flavored fermented &lsquo;beer&rsquo; called Tala. The second day of Dan&rsquo;s hike took him through amazing scenery including large mountain waterfalls, and groups of baboons 300 at a time. 13km later Dan arrived at the second base camp named Gich. It was a timely arrival as rain and hail continued to fall for the next 8 hours. The 3rd day took Dan to one of the most amazing sights he had ever seen; Imet Gogo. At 4000m above sea level and a direct cliff-like drop off, with all manner of large birds circling around Dan was in awe. The rest of the day was spent hiking back to Gich camp, where almost immediately after arrival the rains and hail started again. That night, Dan was visited by all manner of fleas and ticks, adding to the bed bug bites to give Dan&rsquo;s skin a slightly small-pox-like look. The fourth day was a hellacious day of trekking. Instead of breaking the hike back to Debark into 2 days, Dan and his team decided to go 42km all the way back to Debark in a single day. Easily the most difficult hike in Dan&rsquo;s life, upon reaching Debark he promptly collapsed into a shivering pile of cold flesh resembling a pile of dirty laundry.<br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3332648.jpg?508" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The start of the hike</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7881305.jpg?517" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/541005.jpg?530" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Reaching Imet Gogo</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6615261.jpg?518" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;   After their reunion, Tom and Dan headed all the way back to Bahir Dar by bus the next day. Halfway into the 7 hour bus ride, our vehicle came to a herking-jerking halt. The human and material cargo was strewn out onto the baking highway in the hopes of tagging a ride with some local traffic. After hitching with some locals, we ended up back at our favourite hotel in Bahir Dar to much fanfare. It was great to be &ldquo;home&rdquo; where Bizrat took care of us again, and included a free night and meals voucher courtesy of Ethiopian airlines as they had screwed up our $40 flights organized for the next day. We were supposed to leave for the Rock hewn churches of Lalibela but al-hamd&rsquo;allah we had to stay for another night. We spent a wonderful day with 4 cantankerous British individuals who were attempting to ride their bicycles from Cairo to Cape   Town. The four of them had an awkward relationship with each other and were all to eager to break bread and swill gin with the two of us. It slowly turned into a raucous night of boozing after a few hours sipping gin in the gardens and listening to sweet, sweet melodies. Most unmemorable was the 5 am wake up call to catch our flight the next morning to Lalibella. <br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7277759.jpg?493" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Rock church of Lalibella</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7081383.jpg?491" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Priests in the church </div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/1835164.jpg?496" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Hermit holes - monks would live and sleep in here</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">     Despite methanol induced hangovers Lallibella was a quaint and quietly impressive town. Built around twelve ancient rock hewn churches (averaging 900 years old), carved out on all 4 sides from the bedrock in the area. The churches had a truly ancient feeling and more impressively was the monks who still attend to them. In the rocky walls were ancient hermits burrows, carved out to just fit a single monk who would sometimes spend a life-time being fed through a small hole, where he would study the bible endlessly. Still utilized daily as a Christian place of worship, the churches are a sight to behold. We boarded another $40/40min flight back to the place where it all began; the new flower (Addis Ababa). We decided to pamper ourselves with our first meal costing more than $10 at what some claim to be the most luxurious hotel in Africa; the Sheraton Addis. Parked out front was a $600,000 Maybach (one of the most expensive passenger vehicles available to man-kind). Tom started this sentence with a &ldquo;T&rdquo; and ended it with a period, as you can see here. And that&rsquo;s as current as it gets.<br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8531851.jpg?497" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The security for our trek</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5474858.jpg?490" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2364786.jpg?515" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Gelada Baboon</div></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[The end of Egypt! ]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/03/the-end-of-egypt.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/03/the-end-of-egypt.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Wed, 31 Mar 2010 02:36:03 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/03/the-end-of-egypt.html</guid><description><![CDATA[ [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4355469.jpg?453" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  Freshly landed in Ethiopia&hellip;. We must admit, after so long in the Middle East, we were feeling a little oppressed by the lack of female interaction and alcohol consumption. There were girls around, but they often seemed unapproachable, and what we had read about the prevalence of honour killings left us a little apprehensive. However, it seems that Ethiopia is making up for such withdrawals tenfold. In fact we&rsquo;re overwhelmed at the sight of the gorgeous women in Addis Ababa (Ethiopia&rsquo;s Capital) and the friendly and approachable attitude of all the people we&rsquo;ve met so far. With our usual great preparation we showed up in Addis   Ababa with no money and no visa. With all the bank machines in the airport out of service, we were in a jam. Thanks Allah, Tom&rsquo;s friend Seifu was there to pick us up from the airport and was able to bail us out with some cash for the VISA. Seifu is one of Tom&rsquo;s University friends from his exchange in Korea. After a nice afternoon together he got us settled in. The last 8 days in Egypt can only be described as reggae-licious. Lets recount;  &nbsp;<br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8464150.jpg?458" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Chickens at Cap'ns House</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8415980.jpg?457" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4741849.jpg?455" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">New Emperor</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  We ended up catching a flight from Cairo to Aswan,. Aswan is a frontier town on the southern end of the Nile and has a completely different culture and vibe from the rest of the country. The people in this area are not Arab, they are Nubian and the culture reflects it; more laid back and with a distinctly African vibration. The day after arriving we woke up at 2 am and boarded a bus to catch the sunrise at Abu Simbel. Being such an isolated area, only 30kms from the Sudanese border, the area is dominated by the so called &ldquo;Muslim Brotherhood&rdquo; so any travel in this area is required to be escorted by military convoy. We arrived for one of 2 days a year when the rays of the sun align to reach the very back of the temple and illuminate the statues of the gods back there. Abu Simbel is a giant temple built on the banks of the Nile. It was essentially built as a piece of propaganda by Ramses II roughly 3000 years ago in order to intimidate the Nubian civilizations to the south. On the face of the temple there are carvings of Egyptians enslaving Nubians in order to let the Nubians know who they were dealing with. Now the temple overlooks Lake Nasser. The lake is a result of a dam on the Nile  River. The flooding ended up displacing the original Nubian population driving them north toward Aswan and area. Lake Nasser is the largest man made lake on the planet. Although the Nubians are gone, the lake is now teeming with crocodiles up to 6 metres in length.   </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8663350.jpg?452" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Two girls from Hong Kong at Abu Simbel</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9917082.jpg?463" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">The light at the back of Abu Simbel; One of two days when the sun reacheds the back of the temple</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8981625.jpg?465" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Inside Abu Simbel</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp; Immediately upon returning to Aswan, after meeting some American girls we arranged to go on a sail boat tour up the Nile. It was a small simple sail boat with an open deck design. No toilets, showers or amenities of any kind. But by no stretch were we roughing it. Our crew provided delicious food, copious amounts of tea, ganja, and the Nile River was there for any bathing or toilet needs, ignoring the fact that 90million other Egyptians were also discharging and defecating in the same waters. We set off with the Americans and our new friends captain Sayed and first mate Hunny. Hunny loved to get down to any tunes playing at the time. He would just break it down. Like all Nubians, our crew couldn&rsquo;t get enough chronic and seemed to have an endless supply.<span style="">&nbsp; </span>We ended up spending 7 blissful days with those Nubians. Just floating down the Nile, watching life go by. Hunny and Sayed cooked us, by far the best meals we had during our entire time in Egypt. That combined with the 35 degree weather and a healthy dose of camel-toes gave us a tropical erection. <span style="">&nbsp;</span>Seeing the real Egypt along the banks of the Nile gave us a much more penetrating view of Egyptian culture and was a relief from the hot dusty tourist trail. Along the way we met the friends and families of our Nubian crew and countless other villagers. Not to mention all the amazing ruins the ancient Egyptians built along the banks of the river. Including the huge Kom Ombo temple dedicated to the crocodile god Sobek. We also got to see the cliffs that the ancient Egyptians got the rock from to build many of their monuments, including the pyramids. Since the ancient Egyptians used boats to move these rocks the quarry&rsquo;s were all right along the Nile and we were able to see the full extent of their excavations. We stopped at a camel market where all manner of beasts of burden are jostled about, inspected, generally beaten and finally auctioned off to the highest bidder. It was quite a sight to see the chaos in the market, as well as the city of Daraw where it was held. At another point we had a 2 hour impromptu stop over where we decided to inspect the local village. Upon entering the village we were eagerly beckoned into a family&rsquo;s home for tea and awkward conversation. Before long all 4 of his sons and a few other friends joined us to sit on the ground where, <span style="">&nbsp;</span>covered in flies, we feasted on bread dipped in slorp (a local delicacy). Upon completion we were carted into the back yard where we were hoisted onto the meat scale to see how much we had eaten.   </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3704455.jpg?488" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Stopped in a village for lunch</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3936417.jpg?489" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Measuring how much of the slorp we ate</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2874207.jpg?466" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Livestock market in Daraw</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6211424.jpg?477" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5377908.jpg?473" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Kom Ombo Temple, dedicated to the crocodile god Sobek</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4625567.jpg?472" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Blastin' with Hunny</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"> Our American friends left us after the fourth night as one had been experiencing blood infused fecal discharge. The next day a Sahara desert dust storm blew in from the west, our boat was subsequently moored next to a small village for the night. As luck would have it, this was a monumental day in the Muslim calendar &ndash; the prophet Mohammed&rsquo;s birthday. We were treated to a spectacle of dancing Sufi&rsquo;s, entranced Sufi&rsquo;s and spinning, then collapsing Sufi&rsquo;s (watch the video). The next morning, during the dust storm, we walked into Edfu to visit the extremely well preserved temple  of Horus. Probably the most amazing ancient sight either of us experienced. You could almost imagine the ancient Egyptian priests shuffling down the halls in their robes. The torch lit hallways and carved surfaces gave us an overwhelming sense of the mystery of Ancient Egypt. After becoming such good friends with the Capt&rsquo;n and Hunny they offered us free passage all the way back to Aswan &ndash; an offer we couldn&rsquo;t refuse. Tears were welling up as we said goodbye to Hunny and Capt&rsquo;n even though Hunny insisted Dan give him his iPod. <br /><br />  &nbsp;<br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6541016.jpg?474" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Temple of Horus at Edfu</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3715352.jpg?471" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4972696.jpg?464" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Another night on the Fellucca</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; "><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cd%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  We spent the next few days in the grandiose ancient capital of Thebes, now known as Luxor. This is the Mecca, or Jerusalem of the Ancient Egyptians, and it shows. Pounding out the tourist circuit was grueling, uninspiring and generally torturous. This city is an absolute treasure trove of ancient sites and ancient monuments, temples and tombs including Karnak; the largest structure ever built in the name of religion. Karnak had been added to by almost every pharaoh over the thousands of years of Egyptian civilization. However, most memorable for us was visiting the Valley of the Kings on the west side of the river where the sun sets. This is the resting place of over 62 pharaohs. The opportunity to go deep underground and witness the array of booby traps, secret passages and decorations deep in these tombs was mind boggling. We got to see 3 different tombs including the still in tact sarcophagus&rsquo; of Tuthmosis III as well as Sethknacht. This was the finale of our time in Egypt. We were pretty bagged and eager to get down to the REAL Africa.   &nbsp;<br /><br />  </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3795030.jpg?486" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Obelisk at Karnak Temple in Luxor</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/6479245.jpg?484" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Hunny cookin' up some gruel. </div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/2313763.jpg?484" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Watching the Nile go by. Sadly all crocs and hippos are gone</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9482876.jpg?469" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">More Camels</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9644424.jpg?467" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Inside the Temple of Horus</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5796400.jpg?498" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Our little puddle jumper</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4240572.jpg?485" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Here's Captain Sayed jigging around</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5772069.jpg?505" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Abu Simbel, 30km's from Sudan, ancient propoganda really.</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; ">We are actually in Kenya right now after spending a month in Ethiopia. Unfortunately, the internet was too slow to update our blog. In about 1 week we will have our entire month in Ethiopia uploaded to our blog. <br /></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Sinai and Cairo]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/02/sinai-and-cairo.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/02/sinai-and-cairo.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Fri, 19 Feb 2010 13:44:54 -0800</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.losteverywhere.com/1/post/2010/02/sinai-and-cairo.html</guid><description><![CDATA[ [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4603592.jpg?544" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><span  style=" z-index: 10; float: left; position: relative; "><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5099501.jpg?407" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">Pals from Sudan </div></span><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; display: block; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"> As we sit out here at a busy outdoor Cairo caf&eacute;, writing our blog, smoking our hookah and taking in the sights and sounds of the city (population 20 Million) its hard to realize all that has transpired over the last 10 days. The city heaves with BMW driving business men, shuffling past robed mystics that wouldn&rsquo;t seem out of place during biblical times. Fully covered burkah wearing women stroll past high-heeled, make up strewn fashionista&rsquo;s without batting a golden glittered eye-lash. All to the acrid stench of cat-piss, dollar store perfume and butchered animals. <br /><br />  </div><hr  style=" width: 100%; visibility: hidden; clear: both; "></hr><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5111015.jpg?522" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Busy streets of Cairo</div></div></div><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; ">Eyebrows were raised when we stumbled onto an obscene pool of fresh blood spilling  over the side walk. Was this the sight of a heinous crime? No! In fact it was a  2000 lb semi-decapitated bovine being heaved into a 1500 lb truck in downtown  Cairo by a team of blood spattered Egyptians. How this partially butchered cow  got into this predicament still remains unanswered. </div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/754435.jpg?548" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Demise of street bovine</div></div></div><span  style=" z-index: 10; float: left; position: relative; "><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/9610564.jpg" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">Dahab</div></span><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; display: block; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C03%5Cclip_filelist.xml">&nbsp;  <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Its been an action packed 10 days since arriving in </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Egypt</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. It all began after a fairly uneventful ferry ride from </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Aqaba</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">, </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Jordan</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> to the </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Sinai Peninsula</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> in </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Egypt</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">. <span style="">&nbsp;</span>Our first destination was Dahab; the chill out capital of the planet. When we arrived here, the time seems to have stopped, it felt like it was </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">4:20</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> all day and all night. Within minutes of arriving we met a Canadian-Egyptian named Amir who made us feel right at home, introducing us to the staff of one particular restaurant</span></div><hr  style=" clear: both; visibility: hidden; width: 100%; "></hr><span  style=" position: relative; z-index: 10; float: left; "><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/5247275.jpg" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">Endless puppies</div></span><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; display: block; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C04%5Cclip_filelist.xml">   This is the kind of place you see in movies where you lounge around on pillows, smoke shisha, drink $3 bottles of rum and read books, all taking place right next to the red sea shore. With the temperature averaging 28 degrees, and a cool ocean breeze, this place is an absolute nirvana. It&rsquo;s quite common for people to extend their trip from a few days to a few years. Plus, it&rsquo;s a diving mecca. Some of the best diving in the world is here, and Dan did 4 spectacular dives for $120. Tom floated endlessly in the warm waves. We got along great with the staff of our favourite restaurant. We spent some quality time with our new friends and after the restaurant closed, went to their house until 4 am drinking and shooting the shit as only the Egyptians know how. 6 days of swimming, reading, lounging around and generally chilling out at a place where the average meal was $3, and we were ready to depart for Cairo. <br /><br />  </div><hr  style=" clear: both; width: 100%; visibility: hidden; "></hr><span  style=" position: relative; z-index: 10; float: left; "><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8918717.jpg?319" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">The Great Pyramid, Khufu's Personal Tomb</div></span><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; display: block; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C05%5Cclip_filelist.xml"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Cairo</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> was a serious change of pace from laid back Dahab. We ended up in a sweet room with a 3rd floor balcony overlooking downtown </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Cairo</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"> for $10/night. We went with our Japanese friends Kyohei and Tsunemi to check out the Pyramids of Giza on the first day. As cheesy as it sounds, you cant describe the pyramids with words.<span style="">&nbsp; </span>Even after knowing what the pyramids were all about, seeing them and experiencing them in person was mind-blowing at the very least. The realization that the pyramids are made of over 3 million blocks, each one averaging 5000 lbs is a humbling thought. They were the tallest man-made structures until the Eiffel tower was built 4000 years later. The light and sound show with the 1970&rsquo;s sci-fi soundtrack at night adds to the whole experience and is a definite must for anyone visiting. Napoleon, Alexander the Great, Caesar, Cleopatra and countless others stood in awe at these 5000 year old monuments</span></div><hr  style=" clear: both; width: 100%; visibility: hidden; "></hr><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/3488754.jpg?403" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Best view from any cafe in the world: fact</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4541628.jpg?400" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Sphinx and pyramid of Khefre</div></div></div><span  style=" float: left; z-index: 10; position: relative; "><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4291302.jpg?275" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;"></div></span><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; display: block; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C06%5Cclip_filelist.xml">   An Egyptian offered to take us after hours to see some special places amongst the pyramids, only known to locals. Without thinking too much, this seemed like a great opportunity. We snuck into the site with our new friendwhere we scuttled about the ruins trying to avoid the camel mounted police. We got caught and had to bribe first, a set of&nbsp; two cops. We then proceeded to be led into an underground tomb where the site security caught us and we then had to pay him off as well. He was a shifty looking bugger who had eyes pointing in two different directions. We wouldn&rsquo;t have trusted him with our hat. Going deeper underground we finally reached the sarcophagus of an actual pharaoh. It was an amazing sight, and we shamelessly jumped inside and had a look at all the heiroglyphics. Upon leaving the site, our guides got into a scuffle with a different set of police who wouldn&rsquo;t let us out of the site and were requesting our passports and tickets. A nearby shop owner got us out of our bind when we agreed to visit his perfume shop. The whole fiasco ended up costing us $4, significantly bargained down from the $50 asking price.<br /><br />  </div><hr  style=" visibility: hidden; clear: both; width: 100%; "></hr><span  style=" position: relative; float: left; z-index: 10; "><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8775808.jpg" style="margin-top: 5px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center;">Ramses II</div></span><div  class="paragraph" style=" text-align: left; display: block; "><link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CDaniel%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C07%5Cclip_filelist.xml">The next day, Tom visited the Museum of Egypt while Dan stayed behind. The museum is over 100 years old itself and is bursting at the seams with unbelievable amounts of treasures and artifacts. By far, the most unforgettable thing Tom witnessed was the actual mummies of the pharaohs of ancient Egypt. It was incredible to see the curly white hair of Ramses the Second, crooked finger nails, teeth, eye lashes and all. Staring into the face of a 5000 year old Pharoah is a experience that burns itself into your mind. They were so well preserved, Tom feels like he could recognize them if they were to walk by on the street. Tomorrow morning at 5 am we depart for Aswan in the south. <br /><br />  </div><hr  style=" clear: both; visibility: hidden; width: 100%; "></hr><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8756951.jpg?470" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Looks like someone is getting the fuck out of Jordan</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/8994999.jpg?519" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/7596467.jpg?526" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Cairo train station</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4854137.jpg?536" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;">Ancient Skyscrapers</div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/4036553.jpg?547" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div><div ><div style="text-align: center;"><a><img src="http://www.losteverywhere.com/uploads/3/5/0/7/3507071/680748.jpg?503" style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; border-width:1px;padding:3px;" alt="Picture" class="galleryImageBorder" /></a><div style="display: block; font-size: 90%; margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"></div></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>

