Off the Dime and into East Africa: Aug-Sep 2013

After a move and the summer home, I took off for East Africa and the wildlife of Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda in August-September 2013. I was   with my sometime travel companion, Suzanne,on an Exodus tour, one of my favorite British budget travel groups.  The group was full up, eighteen of us, mostly Brits with a  smattering of others, eg: Irish, Americans and a Canadian.

After a missed connecting flight and resultant rescheduling, I still arrived in Nairobi several days early. A large circus tent substituted for the International Terminal, which had burned to ground a week or so prior. Interesting structure, perhaps better than the original building. 
  
I wasn’t   terribly impressed with Nairobi, per se.  Through traffic and thick  carbon monoxide, walked down to the city center -  I felt overwhelmed with the crowding.  Fortunately, got out of immediate chaos the second day to the outskirts where Suzanne and I spent time  with  Michael and Marionetta Asher - I have traveled several times with Michael, a writer and explorer, who  is  planning  a Chad camel trek in January - I’ll be there! They live near the Giraffe Center  -  away from the hurly-burly of civilization. 

The final pre tour day was spent on an arranged City tour and drive into the Nairobi National Park.  The  City tour included  the American Embassy Memorial Garden, the site destroyed by bombing in 1998. The Park gave us a preview of what we could expect in the tour. We lasted half way through the Bombas performances - a series of traditional  dances and songs - fascinating but tedious.

First stop on the tour was Lake Naivasha where we camped lakeside and visited Elsamere, Joy Adamson’s home, now a conservation center.  The resident monkeys introduced us to local wildlife. From there we headed into the Masai Mara, packed with wildlife.  I was most taken by the lions, who sprawled out under trees and in roadways - totally in command.  Saw a Cheetah and herds of Zebras, among others..

The tour crossed Kenya, into Uganda and finishing in Rwanda.  For me, the exciting time was  boating up the White Nile and Lake Victoria.  Seeing the Africa of Burton, Livingston and Spekes.  The landscape is awesome - all  inspiring.    The three countries have enough sense to leave well enough alone - the natural state being the draw for visitors.  

I missed out on the gorillas of Dian Fossey.  I had mixed feelings about viewing them, feeling as did Fossey, they should not be on show.  Yet, the moneys obtained from tourists  sustain and protect them from poachers.  A reoccurance of UTI sapped any strength I might have had for the climb into   Parc National des Volcans, so the decision was made for me.

At Kiglii, some of us spent the morning at the Kigali Memorial Center which honored those killed in the genocide.  One could not help but be moved by the extensive presentation.  

Security was a big thing, particularly in Kenya.  Purse and body checks before entering grocery stores.   

We traveled mostly by Safari bus, excepting two days in 4x4s in the Masai.   Meals were prepared by the crew: - and they were good.  A tour leader, cook, driver and general dog-body were responsible for the lot of us. 

Accommodations ranged from two person tents to covered tent sites to several hotel stays.  In most places, hot water and showers were provided.    The facilities   at Lake Bunyonyi were exceptional - the setting overlooking the lake was awesome. 

Cost for the sixteen days, inclusive of meals:  $3420.  Well worth it. 

Coincidentally, the current NY Times Magazine had an article on Kagame of Rwanda, which I read when I returned.  Very interesting in view of my several days in the country. 

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2013

I checked out back programs and figured out my first attendance at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival was in 1952 - in the days of student actors and uncomfortable wooden planks to sit on.  We - my husband an I - stayed in Jackson Hot Springs cabins those first years.  We brought his mother down one summer - I don't know how she felt about it though  she certainly took it all in stride. 

We probably missed out for ten years and then, rebooted.  Regular attendance for a good forty.  And then I've been going up on my own for close to ten years now:  Have flown in from San Jose via Portland, direct flight from San Francisco, Amtrak and Greyhound. 

This year I traveled via Shawns' RideShare, the best and least expensive of the lot.  Bay area to Southern Oregon via van:  going up, thirteen of us, two cats and a dog.  Coming back, fourteen of us.  Good group and good driving.  Sixty bucks for  nine hours, including pit stops enroute.  Twenty dollars extra  for individual pick-ups/drop-offs.  Otherwise, it is one of the preselected meeting points from Santa Cruz,San Jose, Mountain View,  San Francisco, San Rafael, ElCerrito, onto to Ashland, Medford and Grants Pass.

It all started with Navy vet Shawn's personal commute from his home in Ashland to his employment in San Jose.  Others heard of his regular road trip and joined him.  Then the light blub went off and it became the Employment.  And it seems to be damned successful.  He is now expending to Portland.

Anyway, onto to Plays!  Arrived Monday afternoon, the day OSF is dark but found, to my delight, there was a benefit  reading of August Wilson's Radio Golf, whch was an unexpected pleasure.  .  The other plays I saw was Wilson's Two Trains Running,the precusor to Radio Golf;  Robin Hood, a wild frothy bit of stage craft  in the outdoor theatre,  sans Sean Connery and Audrey Hepburn;  Taming of the Shrew set in Italian country western style and a two piano version of My Fair Lady, a marvelous way to end my series.  As always, all the productions were superb. 

In between, I went to whatever lectures and discussions were available, including one on MidSummer Night's Dream, which I didn't see.  Barely found time to shower and eat.  As usual, I stayed at The Columbia Hotel, several blocks from the theatres and my rideshare pickup. It is  decorated  in a homey  Victorian manner; I stay in a facilities-down- the-hall-room though they did have ensuite rooms. 

I ate at several  usuals:  Greenleaf, Brothers and Martino's.  Not fancy but quick and good.  No shopping:  no time and after a recent move, found I have more than enough stuff.  The two mornings were spent at the library's internet.  The library is going through fiscal problems and likely cutbacks. Bummer.

Ashland continues to be one of my favorites places, one I've often considered moving to.  There is a charm abut the place, despite the influx of Californians and tourists.  Had I I been there for the Shakespeare before May's Great Move , I could have foresworn Palo Alto for Southern Oregon.  But didn't happen. 

But now  there is the RideShare which could see me visiting up north more frequently. 

Kosovo with Political Tours

In Kosovo with Political Tours: Mar-Apr 2013

Originally, this was to be a several week trip and include Serbia-Bosnia as well as Kosovo.  But the Serbia-Bosnia segment was canceled  so it was eight days in Kosovo.  Which worked  for  I will return this Fall to the Balkans with  three  compadres, with whom I have wandered about Oman, Rajasthan  and the Copper Canyon.  While It was a long way to come for eight days - San Francisco-Washington DC-Vienna-Pristina - it was  well worth it.

How do I start to  describe this rather unique tour? 

First,  there’s the Who? Four  interested travelers and five professional  journalist/photographers,   two of whom had been in Kosovo, early on, during time of strife.  Guiding us about was the owner-operator of Political Tours, who had lived in the Balkans during assignments as a journalist, a British diplomat and author and the ever patient and all around good guy, a Kosovo political affairs and foreign policy expert.

What? Political Tours study group into Kosovo, the step child of the Balkans.  Political Tours provides an opportunity to take a serious look into the inner workings of a country’s political and cultural life. 

When?:  28 Mar-6 Apr 2013. 

Where?  Based in Pristina all but one night; drove to Kacanik and then stayed over at Brezonica (the country’s ski center) in the Shar Mountains,  to Prizren, then on to Decani (magnificent monastery).  Then day trips: Gazimestan (Memorial of the Battle of Kosovo claimed as the Serbs' spiritual home), Metrovica (where the Serb and Albanian communities are separated by a blocked bridge with the Bosniacs as Mr.  Inbetween), and Gracanica (a Serb community with another impressive monastery).  

Why?  My long time interest in the Balkans, begun in  folk dancing days.  Subsequently,   was the breakup of  Yugoslavia and then, Serbian efforts at Ethnic Cleansing.  I had been to Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia - I wanted to see the remaining parts of the pinochle of which Kosovo was an important  piece.  And I wanted to understand what was really going on. 

Even after years of bitter conflict, stopped only by the  intervention of the international community, Serbia refuses to recognize Kosovo’s independence.    For the ethnic Serb minority living in Kosovo, there are parallel governments - Serbia claims jurisdiction, particularly with those living close to the border.  While  I was in Kosovo, the two Prime Ministers,  both strong nationalists,  were meeting in Brussels, to deal with their   differences, a necessity for Serbia to be considered for European Union membership. 

Arrangements had been made for us to meet with a cross section of interested parties:  from  political to  religious to  returnees;   representatives and ambassadors  from Britain, Norway, Germany  and Russia, the later a supporter of Serbia;    members of the Kosovo Assembly;  a EULEX representative; people from the opposition party; think tank and independent production staff.    The most moving experience was listening to  a survivor of the 1999 Kacanik massacre, now a nurse at a rural  medical center.  The most positive experience was with   young Kosovo entrepreneurs, choosing   an investment in their country’s future rather than remaining in the West  The most interesting experience was with a Serbian Orthodox priest who took a moderate stance and likely, was not typical  of the other priests.

At Metrovica - the hot spot, the City of the bridge -  Kosovo maintains an office for the northern sector, the ethnic Serb enclave.  The woman who heads it is the best example of  a non political, reality based civil servant.  Because of her approach, she is trusted and used by the locals in their efforts to navigate the dual Serb-Kosovo administration.  She was superb.

Among other experiences, we spent time at the Roma community, dirt poor. but with hope for the young  eg: there was  a young man wanting to  become part of the Kosovo police.  Also, briefly sat  in on a War Crimes trial, later  meeting with the local police official; Kosovo police   are considered to be relatively free of  corruption, often  a problem for the country.

Besides the local police, there are Eulex officers (European supported) and  KFOR troops (NATO provided)  as backup. At the two monasteries were KFOR forces.  At one, Italians managed a check point, holding passports  during your visit.  At the other, two unarmed Swedes, strolled about.  At the  Battle of Kosovo Polje Memorial site, two Kosovo police manned the entrance.  
 
There is a lot of good stuff going on:   Documentary film festival. in Prizren.  A vibrant night life in Pristina.    Skateboarders, including a girl,  happily performing for the photographer.  We did a bit of sightseeing:  the Bill Clinton statue with the Hillary clothing shop nearby, the Rugova Memorial and  the Ethnological Museum.  Just walking about this slap dash city with its diverse architecture, from Ottoman to Austrian-Hungarian to Communist concrete to glass and steel modern was fun.

Despite the Muslim ethnic Albanian majority, there were very few outward semblances  of the religion other than mosques - I saw few head scarves excepting the Roma community,  and only one abaya.  (Same was true in Albania when I was there  eight years ago.).  But, unless there are more employment opportunities for the many young people, that could change.  We were reminded several times that 50% of the population was under 25 years old.    

I was reminded of other schism, particularly  the Palestine-Isreali conflict.  The Kosovo Serbs tend to identify with Serbia, not with Kosovo.  And that is certainly isn’t encouraged by  Serbia., who keeps stirring up the pot.  And until that gets settled, there won’t be the investment necessary to keep Kosovo alive as part of the Western community.  . 

As a country, it is beautiful.  Near Gazimestan, most of us clambered up a hillside with a fantastic view, despite the pollution from coal    plants.  The people were uniformly friendly to strangers - though admittedly they have had experience with the internationals that have flooded the country in the past fourteen years.   

Conclusions:  The relations between  Kosovo and Serbia need to be resolved.  And the economy needs a boost - foreign investment is desperately needed, but first, the Serb-Kosovo relationship needs be regularized.   And that isn’t happening,  for  as I write this, the AP reports failure of the Brussels conference.  So no EU for Serbia and no foreign investment for Kosovo. 

Accommodation:  Couldn’t have been better.  A 6* hotel in the midst of  central Pristina.     And in the mountains, a very comfortable lodge.  Much nicer than my usual.

Food:  Almost always, only the best of local and international restaurants, including lunch at a kula, an old Albanian home, and a private residence. There was a conscious effort for us to experience Kosovo cuisine. 

Cost:  Given the exchange rate, the tour was expensive but was inclusive of everything.  It  cost $4100 but was well worth it - this was my second outing with Political Tours  (I  was with them in Libya) and I will return.  Airfare:  $1283.

NB:  if you want to see us live, we were on Al Jazeera:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5vcXoXQU2g
 
 

Horn of Africa Feb 2013

The portents were stormy, starting with the flight to  Eritrea.  The day before I was to leave San Francisco, the flight to JFK-Cairo-Asmara was canceled - storms on the East Coast.  So it was SFO-Chicago-Paris-Cairo-Asmara.  Long tiring flights. 

And throughout the trip, it seemed bits and pieces didn’t fall into place as hoped/expected.  The tour was set to include Eritrea, Djibouti, Somaliland and Ethiopia (Harare, the ancient walled Moslem city I had missed on previous trips into Ethiopia).  Yemen had been knocked out at the start, remaining only as a means to transfer from Eritrea and Djibouti.  Sharing borders does not mean you can get from A to B without diverting to C.  Excepting Somaliland, there is a history of conflict between the three neighbors.  Somaliland just deals with Somalia.

Five days in Eritrea, both in the two main cities, Asmara and Massawa, plus the countryside, Keren and Adi Keyh.   Several days in, I had developed the Mother of all Colds and spent one day sleeping in the back of the bus, missing  the rock paintings.  However, I was alert enough to appreciate time spent at a local wedding. and enjoy the barren Afar region but didn’t make the climb up to a mountain church.   Rather, I had to deal with several hooligans- they come in all nationalities.   Did manage the British War Cemetery, assorted  stele and an old underground tunnel to Ethiopia.

Eritrea has been described as the North Korea of Africa.  I did find the people friendly and activities were not curtailed..  There was no trash, there or in Djibouti  - it was pointed out that baskets were used rather than plastic bags for toting purpose. (There was trash in Harare!) Not a lot of traffic and what there was, was a mix of the old - donkey carts - and the new - autos.   I found similarities with Ethiopians though the Eritreans would dispute that, after years spent establishing their own identity.  But it is a poor country, with little industry - mainly subsistence farming.  It lost its seagoing trade to Djibouti - the docks at Massawa  are ghostly remembrances of days of yore.

The local guide wa a sweet man but not very effective when it came to herding the ten of us, plus the tour company’s director, a charming   Egyptian, who accompanied us for the first leg of the tour.  The group,  all Americans, were  widely traveled.  Ages ranged from    mid fifties into the eighties.  As with other American groups I’ve traveled with, they were compulsive picture takers - life seemed to be  a series of photo opportunities.

Interestingly, one of the big tourist  sights are the trashed tanks and other armament  from their last war.  Per our guide, they are used for spare parts in repairing current equipment.  Reminded me of  Kabul where they  have a museum of  land mines and graveyard of crashed airplanes.  

One of the experiences I most enjoyed was simply walking about Asmara and Massawa, feeling a part of the landscape.  I ran into four members of a British tour group, on a similar itinerary but  less upscale.

Then there was the flight on Yemeni Airlines  to Sanaa so we could visit Djibouti. And that was something that went really well.  Boarding passes were issued to Sanaa but not the connecting flight- I had visions of a third-world snafu at the Sanaa Airport.  I was wrong!  As we arrived, a Yemeni Air representative met us with our Djibouti boarding passes and escorted us to the waiting area.  I should also mention, that even on short,  hour long  flights, food is served, albeit only a sandwich and juice.  Which is more than I can say for the US airlines which passes out  juice, if you’re lucky,  on the cross country flight.

Djibouti City was noisy, crowded, busy in contrast to the slower pace of life in Eritrea.   The US has a base  and trains Special Forces (SEALS?) there.  Until recently, it was home to the French Foreign Legion. The Port is active, bringing in goods for Ethiopia, trying to be the Dubai of  the region -i t  has a long ways to go.

For a small bit of geography, there was enough for  three days of exploration, eg,Lake Abbe and Lake Assal plus the Rift Valley area.  Again, we were in Afar country.  But before all this, things were a-changin’

After Djibouti, we were to fly to Somaliland and see rock  paintings at Laas Geel, sure!

First, in a Chinese restaurant, we casually met  a Navy rating, a twenty year vet from Oregon,  working in Intelligence who advised - no, pleaded with - us not to go.  Four of our group heeded his comments and backed off.  Next, the flight into Somaliland was canceled - an alternate plan was suggested:  fly in on the next flight, drive around and fly out that evening to Addis.  While that made the country-counters happy, it didn’t show me much.  If I’m going to endanger myself, I want to it to be worthwhile.  So I backed off.  Finally, the director, now in the US, wisely  called Somaliland off and extra excursions were arranged for Ethiopia. 

(Several days later, in Hargeisa there was activity involving a number of the “bad” guys; two German tourist were stuck in the hotel with nine security people!)

Concurrently,  the local Djibouti tour person took off with the hotel payment.  The Ethiopian guide, a capable and delightful guy, now in charge, was stuck dealing with the Djibouti crew and their none too reliable 4x4s.  He managed and the three days in the countryside went off well.

Now to Addis and two days  Improv, which turned out very well.  So far as I could  determine, we were at Negash;  drove down to view a volcanic lake, rowing over to an Island church with its colorful paintings.  Then spent time at a memorial honoring a recently deceased warrior  - marvelous horses and horsemanship.  We were welcomed warmly by all.  Then a day at Tya World Heritage site, Maryan rock-hewn church and Melka Kunture Prehistoric site enroute back to Addis and a flight to  Dire Dawa and then, Harare.

Harare is the old walled Moslem city, once breached by a disguised Richard Burton in the 19th Century, the place I’d missed on two prior trips to Ethiopia.  A friend had been in the Peace Corps there some  years ago; I unsuccessfully tried to locate a woman. he’d known.  Harare is my kind of town: crowded, tacky, loud,  atmospheric .  We did the tourist bit:  Rimbaud House, the Handicraft Museum, the Catholic Church,  Adare Houses and the Hyena feeding.   Unfortunately, there was little time to just wander and absorb the ambiance.  At the minimum I needed another day.

Next back to Dire Dawa, stopping at the Khat market enroute.  Spent time before the flight to Addis, investigating every nook and cranny of the non operative  Addis Abba-Djibouti Railroad.  There was a small bus station in the main building and a number of hangers-on about.  I suspect they were former employees who had no place else to go.

At Addis, some crashed and some continued sight seeing.  I did a combination of wandering about, crashing and making use of the hotel computer - I had some 700 Emails, most to b deleted.  Injera at a local restaurant which featured music and dancing - why does already audible music have to be amplified? Then to another hotel for an hour’s sleep before catching the Four AM flight to Cairo.

Food:  You don’t go to Africa for the food.  Other than several of the better hotels, basic.  I did vegetarian along with some fish and chicken.  Cheese omelets, some better and some worse,  got me through breakfasts. 

Accommodations:  From sleeping out in an Afar hut with facilities down the road to  the four star Asmara Palace and everything in between.  Clean sheets, plumbing  and water, not always hot.  Rarely, more than a night per place.  My favorite was the Negash Lodge at Walisso, Ethiopia - another Afar style unit amidst trees and wildlife, this one with conveniences.

Tour:  Spiekermann Travel Service Inc:  fast paced with little time for wanderings or reflections.  Cost: $8300 inclusive  all meals and in coutry flights -  may get a refund on unused airfare to Somaliland.  I spent little other than about $200 on tips.  Used United frequent flyers miles:  $79.   Cat care: $780.    

Note:  Will be contacting the Ethiopian tour leader re:  a December  Danakil trip - he goes regularly and reports it is now quite safe. 

Christmas-New Year’s 24 Dec 2012-8 Jan 2013

Mexico’s Copper Canyon was the third choice for this year’s Holiday trip.  Rejected was Ethiopia’s Afar Region  and the Balkans (too dangerous or too cold!), so I was left scrambling.   In a stack of  possible excursions was a clip from the National Geographic about Mexico's Copper Canyon. 

CalNative had a a ten day independent tour to the bottom of the canyon, including  train ride and accommodations. We paid extra for two  trips into the canyon - one with Don Diego. the colorful American operating a lodge near Cerocahui and  another via cable car from the canyon’s rim at Posada Barrancas.  A  slippery drive on a wet, partially completed road  for a two day stay at Batopilas, a colorful, remote mining town, was included in the tour.

It turned out to be an excellent choice:  a combination of walking and sightseeing in some of the most beautiful country in the world.

There were four of us, two Brits and two Americans, who had traveled together in various combinations over some five years. All ladies of a certain age.   Last year it was Rajasthan and the year before, Oman.  Three of us  did a four day pretour stay in Mexico City - one had been there before and the other was conversant in  Spanish..

Mexico City is a big sprawling City with wall to wall people.  And security throughout the center of the city:  locals and federales. Many with  AKs and protective gear.  Some with black ski masks.  Male and female.  Two small attractive women in uniform were the subject of many photographers.  Mexico was determined the Holidays go peacefully, particularly when there were demonstrations protesting  fourteen imprisoned individuals.  I observed no conflict.

We took trains and buses to the Xochimilco Floating Gardens, sadly neglected,  and the Teotihuacan Pyramids, a day’s excursion.  Visitors were in a festive mood and included a dozen or more  Sisters of Mother Teresa viewing the site.  Otherwise, mostly local families. I did crawl up the first Pyramid but simply viewed the other two.  We had packed some lunch, so ate near the Museum, a nicely designed building with interesting artifacts.

The last day we went about the Templo Major and museum, just back of the Metropolitan Cathedral.  Walking around, one realized  how late in the day the North Americans appeared on the scene and how low we were on the cultural  totem pole compared to the Mexican-Indian culture. 

We met our fourth member at the airport where we all flew to Los Mochis, the jumping off point for the tour.  There it was a night ride to El Fuerte with only a checkpoint stop.  We had arranged for an extra day in El Fuerte before boarding El Chepe, the Copper Canyon Railroad, famed for its twists and turns and tunnels as it winds up into the Sierra Madres.   Our adventure began but without Walter Houston and Humphrey Bogart. 

We were met at the first stop by  Doug (Don Diego) Rhodes who could certainly qualify as a Readers Digest, Most Unforgettable Character.  Ex-Army, ex-NASA, ex-cop, ex-tour guide, he settled in the area twenty-two years ago and now runs a lodge, Paraiso del Oso,  for visitors such as us.  Affable and knowledgeable, he provides social services for many of the local Tarahumara families in the area.  As I found out, he is known from one end of the Canyon to the other.  We stayed two nights, spending a day down the road to Urique. 

On to Posada Barrancas, on the edge of the canyon, every room with a spectacular view.    One of us hiked, two of us did the cable car and adjacent walks and the fourth stayed abed - cold and cough and temperature laid her low.  So from there to Creel where there was a clinic -turned out the ailing one had a cold, a negative reaction to the wood fire smoke - sole source of heat at Paraiso - and a bit of high altitude sickness.  Medication helped but even more so, the descent to Batopilas.

There, as at other stops, the local Indians were selling their handicrafts.  Colorful and peaceful, there was no pressure to buy.  Their work was excellent and we bought bits and pieces.  The hope is they will not be contaminated by  tourists.

Batopilas was the charmer.  A  small, mining town located on what may have been a stream, but now with the rains, was  a full sized river; it was a high point of the trip.  We walked to the Lost Cathedral and to the ruin of Alexander Shepherd’s Hacienda, Shepherd, a runaway from Washington, DC, bought the mine in the eighteen-eighties  and built bridges, viaducts and a hydroelectric plant.  From a look at his crumbling hacienda, he lived high on the hog. All in all, I walked some 15K while the others, who also went along the wet and muddy aqueduct, totaled 20 K. 

The ride between Creel and Batopilas was extraordinary:  partly paved but often wet dirt.   Enroute, we stopped at various scenic spots:  waterfalls, lakes and volcanic eruptions of old.  The Valley of the Monks was high on the outstanding sights of the trip.  Back at Creek for a night, there was time to walk about the small Mexican cow town.  And again, I grabbed onto the slow operating computer - wanted to be updated on the world’s affairs.

The train ride from Creel to Chihuahua was long and less scenic.  We came into Chihuahua late at night where there occurred  only glitch in the well planned program.  No one met us and we were overcharged for the taxi to the hotel.  However, there was prompt reimbursement the next day - a staff change meant  someone just didn’t get the word. 

Two of us took a included tour the next day, in and about Chihuahua while two others went about on their own - we met up for a mid afternoon meal, our final gathering as we all flew out the following morning.  Chihuahua is a good sized city with momentos of both Indian and Spanish heritage.  From the Cathedral to the Capital’s   historical murals to Pancho Villa ‘s residence - I saw it all despite closure of most museums.  Our guide took time and energy to make sure we appreciated Chihuahua’s past and present.

Accommodations:  Ranged from Holiday Inn in Mexico City and Chihuahua  and  Best Western in Creel to the basic  Paraiso del Oso near Bahuichivo and Hotel Juanita in Batopilas with Posada’s Hotel Mirador‘s spectacular views making up for its touristy ambiance.  All different,  a contrast with one another.

Food:  Ah, that’s a different story.   There were several really nice  meals but then, in Mexico City, I had the worst meal of a lifetime at a vegetarian restaurant.  This was not a gourmet's journey - some of the meals were ok, some were suffered.  But then, I avoid the nightshades which limits me.  The cost of nearly half were included. 

The tour:  California Native did an excellent job of preparing and executing the tour.  They rate an A+.

Comment: It is too bad that there were not more visitors.  The local economy is suffering from lack of tourists.   Apparently,  fear of drug traffickers and personal safety issues keep people away.  The Mexicans seem determined to keep the peace -- cops of one kind or another were evident throughout.  One guide said the difficulties developed when the past President decided to make war on the drug cartels while likely, there will be some sort of accommodation with the new regime - thus, less conflict but more drugs.  We certainly didn’t feel unsafe.

N.B: Also trains run on Mexican time:  consistently late up to two hours or more. 

Cost:  $1765 for the California's Native's tour including the extra night at El Fuerte plus 800 Pesos apiece for trip to Urique.  Approximately 1570 Pesos for shared hotel room  in Mexico City.  Air fare San Francisco-Mexico City-Los Mochis; Chihuahua-SF was $856.47.  Cat care:  $650.

Fall 2012: Two Weeks in Jordan

Nov 3-18 2012:  Fifth year with GARP

I looked at past trip notes for the  Great  Arab Revolt Project  to see what I could add to my experiences for this two week working holiday.  Only that I continue to enjoy the sense of purpose and the comradeship that joins us together.  Though my work still remains mostly scut labor - sieving and scraping: basic archaeology. Necessary though not romantic.

This began after I heard a presentation by one of the directors and, without any archaeological experience, applied to join this ten year project - there are three yet to go and I hope to hang on to the bitter end.

This year, there were ten staff and eighteen volunteer, six of them, “newbies”.  However, several volunteers are  professionals on a busman’s holiday and others were skilled artisans.  As always, there were several military men:  one a twenty year Marine Corps veteran and another a South African Special Forces  retiree.   So, the  South African,  a Swiss, a Scot, a Jordanian.  two Aussies, six Americans, - the rest English.  Sponsored by the University of Bristol and the Jordanian Ministries of Antiquities, among others,  GARP is an investigation of WW 1 activity in the Middle East.  The Lawrence of Arabia dig, as it were.

We stayed back at the Edom Hotel, the place of my first  trip to Jordan, some years before GARP.  A comfortable three-star whose internet was unworkable, leaving me with regular visits to the pizza parlor cum internet on the main street.  Enroute to the Movenpick Hotel, place of serious ce cream.

So on 7:30AM mornings, our group took off in bus and several 4x4s through the dawn, usually through Ma’an - until that got a bit rough with protests over gasoline increases -to the assignments  d’jour.  Often, several hours commute. Depending on meeting schedules, we would head back latest 4PM. Most of us were on work assignment; a few were investigating further projects, others stayed back to process the prior day’s finds.  It was always evolving,  always subject to change.  Earlier days’  discoveries often determined the next step.

Sites this year were Wadi Rutm Fort, Tooth Hill Camp, Siddon’s Fort (named for the RFC pilot who mapped the area),  Madawarra (near the Saudi border) with a quick look back at Wuheida.  I had been across the border earlier this year, exploring the Saudi side of the old Hejaz RR, which had stretched about the then unfettered Arabian countryside on the road to Mecca. Almost all sites are related to stations along the Hejez RR.

In addition to the usual digging and sieving, mental detecting and recording, there was  field reconnaissance  on several sites with some success. I did spent a day being a rather inept GPS recorder for a metal detectorist - my  illegible handwriting  didn’t help; I never did translate one  item.  Bad!
 
The wonderful moments were when several staff interviewed a local Mudawarra Sheik whose grandfather had fought in the Revolt.  I would have given my eye teeth to have heard this conversation.   The same man became trusting enough  of our guys to guide them around.  Even better,  he  took control of the batch of kids hanging around, all to  eager to “assist” us.

We did well this year with bits and pieces indicating WW 1 usage: shrapnel, cartridges, tunnels, etc.  Staff was pleased to find work at Mudawarra was feasible; I suspect we will be there again. As much as possible, there is an effort to validate places and finds with existing information including Lawrence’s tome, Seven Pillars of Wisdom.

The two days off saw me back at Petra - magnificent as always - and to Shobat - an unrestored crusader castle where three of us scrambled about, sans any safety measures. Next year, I hope to arrive early and go  north of Amman to   Umm Qais with both Roman and Ottoman era ruins plus views of the Golan Heights.

I started out this trip, feeling a bit grim.  Rain and chilly weather in CA kicked up the arthritis in my back at the beginning.  Toting goopers full of dirt  exacerbated that so I moved to sitting and sieving.  Eventually was able to move onto scraping and digging.  Walking was unaffected.  But I did feel badly I was on not top form.  And by the time I arrived home, there was the   yearly Fall cold, which saw me across from Amman to Chicago to SFO in a tight,  crowded thirteen-plus hour flight.  A roomier trip onto SFO.  And I did avoid overnight in Terminal 3, my parking place of past years.

Major Costs:  Airfare via Orbitz:  $1226.70.  GARP (inclusive of Room/Board): $3125. Pet  Care: $689.50.

October 2012 at the Oregon Shakespeare

I flew to Ashland, Oregon, to the Shakespeare Festival for my  birthday, likely my thirtieth? fortieth?  time there.  I think   I first went in 1952, then sporadically for several years  before  attending with more  regularity for  at least twenty years, usually in September for I could claim  Labor Day  as part of my vacation time. 

For years, my husband and I drove.  Then we flew Alaska Air, San Jose to Portland to Medford with a shuttle to Ashland.  As a single, I continued with that for awhile.  Then tried  the bus,  then  the train - wrote about both of these trips earlier.  Gave up and have been taking  a direct United flight from San Francisco to Medford, still using the shuttle to Ashland. 

Same with accommodations:  I’ve stayed at half a dozen places:   early on, at Jackson Hot Springs and then in Ashland.  Motels at both north and south ends of town as well  downtown.  I’ve now settled on a Main Street hotel, above various stores, comfortable and cozy, with facilities down the hall.  They do have insuite arrangements, but I can manage otherwise.  In the lobby, overstuffed couch and chairs, hot tea available along with the New York Times.  What more can one want?

So I was there for Birthday time.  Besides plays, I had considered river rafting.  But the downtown office was closed for the season.  And it was nippy enough to require a wet suit - which I didn’t have.  So I settled for theatre though really wanted  to do something exciting at this time of life.  I have been on a camel trek, sky dived, flown an aircraft - five plays in two theatres in three days seemed tame.  So be it.

As usual, I did do some walking about this most picturesque town with leaves turning to rust and yellow.  Lithia Park is, as always, lovely, with various wildlife happily bathing in the ponds.  I have so often threatened to move here; every time I visit, I reconsider the possibility.  With the college and the Festival, there is much cultural activity.  Two things hold me up:  changing my medical coverage and the hassle of traveling out of  Medford. 

The plays were a mix:  Troulus and Cressida was my Shakespeare; Animal Crackers was more vaudeville than farce;  All the Way was a saga of LBJ, Party People was of the Black Panther days, and Medea/MacBeth/Cinderella was a musical mishmash of three classics - need to see that again to figure it out. 

The audiences were enthusiastic. - many of  the gray-haired   set with an assortment of canes about.  This bunch was balanced with   groups of students.  Though late in the season, the house was  well filled; several performances were sell outs.  And it was late enough that the pre show performances were over and the Elizabethan Theatre shut down.  I did attend several  after show discussions which were interesting and gave  insights into the play, the casting and production generally 

Coming home, the flights were running an hour or more late due to fog at SFO.   I was able to catch an earlier flight - which left at about the time of my scheduled flight - and made it home in time to feed Sam on schedule; his schedule.

Costs: United Express SFO-Medford was  $ 347.    Cascade Shuttle: Medford Airport- Ashland RT: $60.  .  Accommodation: $287.  Meals ran about  $150.     .

Plan for next year:  there is a shuttle from the Mountain View to Ashland:  $55 base cost.  I’ll give that a go.  And avoid the airport security hassle.