Yemen - Oman Dec 2007-Jan 2008

Two weeks in Yemen and six days in Oman, that was the schedule.  Starting in Sana’a and actually, ending in Dubai.  The travel in Yemen was part of an Imaginative Traveler tour, one of the first they’d sponsored since 1999 when some Explore tourists had been killed in a shoot out with their abductors   and the Army.  This hadn’t stopped some Italian and French groups from continuing to tour about, but did put a brake on the Brits until this past year.

 I signed up  for Christmas and New Years in Yemen the minute I saw the announcement.  And no regrets!


(I should note that less than a week  following my return, the SF Chronicle had a news piece about suspected al Qaeda militants shooting at a convoy of tourists in Wadi Hadramuwt, killing two Belgians and a Yemeni driver.  Three weeks before, I was there!  I suspect it was less al Qaeda and more a tribal issue with the tourists in the way)

Yemen is the poor man of the Middle East.  It reminded me of Albania:  the people were welcoming and full of spirit (and qat - a leafy stimulant chewed by the men) but the infrastructure was kaput.  It impressed me as  still a tribal  society  despite 21st Century  television, computers and weapons.

And as in  Albania, they hadn’t figured out what to do about the trash.  Villages were overwhelmed with  plastic sacks and wrappings atop plastic sacks and wrappings.  But  you could overlook this, what with  scenery of unparalleled beauty with some  areas comparable  to the Grand Canyon.

We were a group of twelve: two Americans, a Swiss, a Norwegian, a Welshman, three Aussies and the rest Brits.  We had a magnificent Egyptian tour leader who kept things going, necessary as we had bad luck in local guides.  We started and ended in the capital city, Sana’a which boasted  an active old town medina with art and crafts museums housed in a traditional tower houses.

Women were all covered, mainly in  in black including  most of the face, relieved with a few  multicolored  abas, left over from an old tradition.  The men were either in a long dress or a wrap around skirt,  with an elaborate belt holding a curved knife topped with a standard suit jacket. Scarves or turbans, often red and white checkered Bedouin ones  completed the dress.  Few were in Western dress, most often younger males.  

From Sana’a, we flew into Wadi Hadramawt, a 200 km valley in Eastern Yemen.  We stayed in Sayun for three nights, while driving around to the UNESCO protected city of Shibam and the palaces and mosques of Tarim.  I was fascinated with  Tarim’s manuscript library used by Arabic scholars both then and now; we also snuck into the Aynot Cemetery where visitors were quite unwelcome.  In Sayun itself was a the old Sultan’s Palace which had been converted to a museum.  While it contained the usual archaeological items, it also had a marvelous collections of photos including some by Freya Stark.  Christmas Day was in Seyun,  celebrated with roasted goat (tough and stringy) followed by  local music and dance.  Accommodations was really excellent in what was reputed to be the best place in town.  

Drove down the Wadi, finally ending up at the port city of Al Mukalla,  where we acquired an  Army escort to Aden. Great discussion whether to road from Bir Ali, a beach area, to Aden was safe what with local disturbances.  Finally, off we went, four Land Rovers led by  a Toyota pickup with a Kalishnakov mounted in the rear carrying seven young  qat chewing soldiers.  A wild ride.  Reportedly the disturbers of the peace liked to  a)  take a pop at  each other, b) shoot a couple of soldiers and c) capture a few tourists for ransom.  We were two of the three; I figured we might do better on our own but, not my decision.  Aside:  if I had the Toyota franchise for Yemen, I’d be a wealthy woman - often old and beat up, they were ubiquitous.


We did get to Aden safely, the city where Noah’s ark may have been built and launched and the US Cole was attacked.   We wandered about  a series cisterns/reservoirs which could  date from the First Century,   spent a bit of time in one of the museums,  the Arabian Sea Promenade and finally,  a restaurant around the corner from the hotel with the best bread I’ve ever eaten.  Flat bread cooked along the side of a hot, hot kettle.  Ahh!

In the evening, one of the guys from the group and I ended up at a wedding celebration, held in a secluded part of the public sidewalk.  Musicians with PA system:  drums, sitar and other unknown tome instruments with two rather athletic dancers performed before a all male (except for me and a three year who was with her father - or at least, I think/hope it was her father)  gathering.  Surprisingly, I was welcomed and eventually was in one of the front rows of sitters as opposed to the standees.  Wonderful seemingly impromptu performance - though everyone appeared familiar with the music and ritualistic hand clapping.

Ta’izz was our next stop, after exploring the old cities of Ibb - a city with buildings of 550-1000 years old still in use -  and Jubla - famous for its qat souk.  .  As we walked about, we were accompanied by a  cadre of urchins, eager to give information and to ask for money or pens;  tourists had obviously passed this way before.  I did get to stick my head into a girls’ school, a bit unique for women play such a minute role in public life.  

New Year’s Eve was in Al Mokha, a seaside resort of sorts.  Some hardy souls stayed up through midnight, dancing to someone’s wind instrument and drum in an ocean side cabana.  Here we acquired our last local guide; the two previous ones had been totally inept and had been returned to sender.

From here it was two nights in an 11th Century mountain top village, Al-Hajjarah, staying with several other tour groups (French and Italian) in  the local funduq (guesthouse).  Communal sleeping arrangements (six of us in our room) on mats with six shared toilet-shower combinations for some thirty of us. Two Western toilets and two showers with hot water.  

After the evening meal, there was music and dancing - both of a higher caliber that we’d previously experienced.  And it was a participatory experience.  During this time in the mountains, we walked around villages clinging to the mountain sides, climbed up to a hilltop mosque, saw the terraced mountain sides but continuing to step over and around the plastic sacks and trash left over recent years.  Great hiking country.

Coming off a rather hairy detour - and there seemed more detours than roads in the mountains - we were blocked by  a gathering:  two young Muslim bridegrooms with decorated turbans and magnificently carved silver scabbards over their swords,  a honor guard of two Uzi toting friends with another dozen  buddies dancing to  the best of drummers seated in  the back of a Toyota pickup.  Naturally, our drivers stopped and joined the dancing.  Periodically, there were bursts of fire from the Uzis, friendly celebratory fire.   

We finally did get to Kawkaban, an old fortified mountain top village,  The hotel was an original with few modifications from the old days.  More charm than convenience.  The next morning, some of us hiked down a steep path to Shibam (another Shibam, not related to the Wadi Hadramawt Shibam) and Friday Market.  From there to the old Inman’s palace at Wadi Dhar,  now a museum of sorts.  And another  lovely view.  And then Sana’a.  And home - or the next destination on one’s agenda.  

Normally, accommodations were pretty basic.  Most times we had hot water, most times we had a Western toilet:  But not always.  You vamped.  But other than the funduq, there were beds.  Food was soup, rice, veggies (mostly potatoes), salad (tomatoes and cucumbers), bread with chicken, fish, camel, or goat.  Toward the end, we were also offered spaghetti - the Italian influence I guess.


My next stop was Muscat, Oman via Dubai.  On the Sana’a-Dubai  flight, I was seated next to a German, forty years in the US.  He was aa academic who consulted on planning and economic issues for the UN and various  NGOs.  We talked non stop the entire trip for he had been all over the world in one capacity or another.  Fascinating man! 

Originally I was to be on a eight day sea trek but that didn’t come about as not enough signed on.  So I went on my own to Muscat.  I contacted a travel agent there for hotel and day tours.  And Oman is another world from Yemen even though they are next door to each other: neat , modern and tidy.  My hotel was a righteous 3* facility with swimming  pool, conference rooms, several restaurants and a work out room.  Clean sheets, a bath tub and hot water.  A distinct change from a mat on the floor and squat toilets.  And after  intense relationships in  a group of twelve, being alone was a relief.  And no head scarf was required.

I did a half day city tour and then two day long tours:  one to the Jebels Shams (mountain area) and the other to the Sands (desert area).   I had hope to take  sunset dhow  cruise, but that wasn’t to be.  I did take the local bus from Muscat to Dubai (where I wouldcatch my flight home) so I could see more of the countryside - wasn’t sure about the bus ticket for the agent’s ability in English was only exceeded by my ability in Arabic.  But it worked out.

Touring about Muscat, I found it reminiscent of Singapore.   Well maintained streets, landscaped with art objects decorating the roundabouts.  Buildings were white.  Most autos were white.  Everything clean and maintained.  Cabs had  orange trim, owned by the drivers who took meticulous care of them and all dressed in long gown (no belt and knife) with a pill box hat.  Coming in from the airport, I felt I had limo service rather than a simple taxi.  

Muscat is sprawled out.  I was staying in Ruwi, an rather commercial area  labeled “Little India” by Lonely Planet.  I did get  to the Grand Mosque, the  Walled City, the Sultan’s Palace, the fish market and the souq.  My driver took me to several resort hotels and the row of embassies (no photos or else!)    Development obviously has been thoughtfully planned; there are no out of character high rises and I saw no poverty.  

The next day, I took off for Nizwa  - impressed with the Fort which sported an old cannon donated by the City of Boston - never figured out which old cannon though.  Then we took off for the Jebel Shams, Oman’s highest mountain. ( I didn’t get to Jebel Akhdar where the British SAS fought rebels on behalf of the government  in the 1950s and where they are great walking paths.  Another time.)  Jebel Shams were quite spectactular however; with dirt  roads that barely clung to the mountain sides.  There was a section that was compared to the Grand Canyon; where had I heard that before.  But it was breath taking.  

My other day  out was to the Wahiba Sands, home to Bedouins and their racing camels - got several photos of the camels and did see the racing rack.  Then to the tell dunes.  Drive almost straight up and then a vertical down,  At times I suspect the driver was testing me; he kept asking how I was doing.  Or testing his Land Rover.  He didn’t know he had the Sky Diving Kid!   At the end, drove into a secluded Oasis - don’t know the name of it - but it was peaceful and lovely with water and greenery all about.  A distinct change from the sandy desert.  

My last day,unfortunately, was a religious holiday, Muslin New Year, which meant   museums were closed,.  I did get into the  the Sultan’s Armed Forces Museum which was a delight.  An old  royal summer home  used as the headquarters for the armed forces,, it is one of the most interesting buildings I’ve seen. They have a marvelous collection of well cared for weapons, from days of yore to the present  Fortunately, I was able to wander about on my own though LP indicates there is a mandatory military escort.  I must have looked harmless.

 The lower floor has artifacts and information from Oman’s early days while the second floor starts with the current Sultan, a Sandhurst graduate who served with the British Army before inheriting Oman from his father (with the help of the Brits whose involvement is not mentioned in any of the write ups at the museum),

In the 30-odd years Sultan Qaboos been in power, he has - from all I saw - done an excellent job of bringing Oman into the 21st Century without sacrificing the cultural foundation of the country.  While there are  expat workers, eg Indians and Paki, he is determined to Omanize  the work force.  Certainly Oman impressed me as  the opposite of the tribal and poor and chaotic society of Yemen.

From there I had lunch with an Australian woman I had met in Yemen, who is on a two year  contact, teaching core subjects to girls in a local Muslim school.  Hope to keep in touch with her. Then walked about a bit before packing up for the  7 AM bus to Dubai.

So off to Dubai on the early morning bus with no other Westerners, five other woman and half a bus load of guys, mostly Indian.   I got a good look at local towns as we went past; a pit stop was made at a new fast food place with immaculate facilities;  it took a bit to get through United Arab Emirates customs.  But in about five hours, we were in Dubai.  

The stop (not a depot as in Muscat) was walking distance to my hotel but!  Construction was going on and the path to the hotel was blocked.  I had to go up and over two metal barriers; I was helped by a gentleman holding my carry on as I and a conservatively dressed Muslin woman crawled across.  Then to the hotel, selected as  a  reasonably priced and located 2* on the Internet.  Wasn’t sure what to expect.    The Regent Hotel turned out to be charming, with a delightful cafe , much more a 3* place.  I made arrangements  for a $55 half day tour of Dubai the following day since I would be there two nights.  The hotel was in the al Riggia area, which had high rises and hotels galore.

 In fact, all of Dubai would do well in Las Vegas.  Lots of high rises and no class.  Something like 25 shopping malls, including one with skiing and ice skating in an enclosed area.  In the half day tour, I saw little of charm and lots of glitz.   Workers, mainly expat Philipinos, Indians and Pakistanis, are crowded in high rise flats, similar to Hong Kong.  Dubai is not my kind of place - but then, neither is Las Vegas.

What I did enjoy were the five five simultaneous cricket matches occurring on a vacant parking  lot  near my hotel.  I never understood cricket but was interested in  watching the players.  And there was an authentic old residence hidden amidst the high rises - it was the only one I saw.    

Details:

The Yemen tour was arranged through Adventure Center (800-227-8747) which with a discount, cost me $2377 and often included several meals daily.  Local charges were $440 with a $65 tips kitty.  Also tipped the tour guide, who was absolutely superb, $100 and spent about $200 on meals and sundries. Airfare was  $2013.83.

Oman costs: Arrangements for tours and hotel were made with Balwan Travel Agency in Muscat  and the total cost was $1400.  Half went for the tours and the other half for the hotel.   I know I spent about $150 cash and would estimate bus fare back to Dubai at $25.

The Dubai hotel  room was $226 for the two nights; what with breakfast and shuttle to airport, quite reasonable. 

Now to enjoy my break at home before setting off again. 

FYI:  International Living magazine just issued its 2008 Quality of Life Index:  France was tops with an 85 score with the US third rated at  83.  UAE (Dubai) was rated at 45, Oman at 43 and Yemen at 31, fourth from last placed Iraq  at  29. 

 

To Tour or Not to Tour

First off, I’ve not used a travel agent; I’ve had bad luck with them.  They have trouble understanding I don’t want  the local Hilton but something a bit lower on the food chain.  They are so used to suggesting the better things of travel.  When I did the first Indian trip, I was told by several agents that Americans couldn't manage the average Indian hotel; we must have a four star hotel. Not true! We, my husband and I,  did local hotels, several where we were  the only Westerners. We used a local Indian agent to help us with our itinerary, which had a small relationship to standard itineraries.  It worked.

I do book tours, particularly since I’m now on my own.  I look for tours that are as untourlike as possible, that use local lodgings, feature unique experiences and give me time to wander on my own.  I want small groups.   Though I have and still do travel some independently, there are areas where I feel more comfortable with the  support of a group, even if it’s only three or four of us, as has occurred.  

Obviously, I consider price, professional affiliations,   and recommendations.   I collect brochures, read travel books , search newspapers and the net.  I have run into tour groups housed at hotels where I’ve been. and, then, subsequently booked with them.   As a single, I look for tours that do not charge extra for accommodation but allow for a room share.

Two American firms I have used were General Tours hosted tour program and Rick Steves’ Bed-and-Breakfast tour (now called Bus-Plus, I believe).  But for the most part, I have traveled with British Budget companies:  Explore, Imaginative Traveler and Exodus.  I also used an Australian firm: Peregrine.   All of these have been  booked through Adventure Company in Emeryville (www.adventurecompany.com) whose representatives have been superb.                                                                                                                                                                             

It was the General Tours’ Thailand trip that included an hour’s conversation with a Buddhist monk; it was Rick Steves’ tour that introduced me to Fado; it was Imaginative Traveler that had me biking around the Yangshu China countryside; it was Explore that had me traipsing down an Albanian river to reach a barbeque site; it was Peregrine that had me searching all over Peshawar to find the garage where  trucks were decorated - some of this I could have done on my own perhaps, but it could have been more complicated.

Another approach I’ve taken is contacting a local travel representative.   I did this for travels in   China, Egypt, Nepal, Tibet and India.  Some were recommended through International Travel News, some through the internet and some via Lets Go, Lonely Planet and Rough Guide.  I’ve had no problems, except for a financial misunderstanding with the Indian firm which resulted in duplicate payment for a Nepalese guide.   Apparently, the right hand didn’t talk with the left.  If I use them again - which I would - I have a credit outstanding.

Overall, whether it is tour or independent travel depends on you, the country and the tour.  You have to decide for yourself.  For me, there are times  the idea of some socialization and structure seems great; at other times, I’d rather do it by myself, thank you.  I admit, when there were two of us,I did more independent travel than now, when I am one.   But it was early on and  we were just beginning our overseas travels and going to less challenging places.  Now, I keep pushing the envelope.  But the main thing:  keep traveling!

October in Southwest Africa

For several years a trip to some of the game reserves of Africa has been high on my list.  So last year I signed on for a trip starting in Capetown, South Africa, but then going into Namibia, and Botswana before ending at Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe.  Chobe and Etosha parks were on the itinerary as was the Okavango Delta which insured I would see many species of birds and beasts.  The dunes at Namib Naukluff and the Waterberg Plateau were icing on the cake.  Victoria Falls was the splendid finale.  

And it was all as cracked up to be, plus.   Most unexpectedly, I ran into two fellow members of a Yahoo travel group who were with a Canadian tour  running one day ahead of me.  I happily celebrated my birthday with a sky dive in Swakopmund - greatest experience  I’ve ever had.  Add a lengthy (and none too sober, on their part, at least) conversation with several local tour guides, originally from South Africa and the Congo gave me a  picture of their Africa.  I finished up with the surprise that a German attorney in our group was also a Clive Cussler fan, a Cusslerman!  

From the top:  During the day in Capetown, I walked most of the way to Table Mountain, overlooking the city, taking the cable to the top.  Then headed back down to the Victoria and Alfred (who was Alfred?) Waterfront.  Between was the business district and government buildings.  Beautiful city but - about every residence was walled, of ten barbed wire atop the wall, one had to be buzzed into stores, restaurants and even, the hotel.  Posted throughout were notices of Aware Armed Response.  I saw them  not only in Capetown but also in   communities throughout.   Security guards were all over southwest Africa.  Crime is a big issue.  Nighttime explorations not recommended.  

Heading up the coast,  we stayed overnight at Lamberts Bay, an working fishing town with the Bird Island Nature Preserve.  Lots and birds; smelly with their leavings.  Moving on, we spent a night at Fish River Canyon, sometimes compared to the Grand Canyon.  While it was enormous, it didn’t have the complexity and color of the Grand Canyon.  But I enjoyed walking  along the edge.  

The following day, enroute to Namib Naukluft, was our Great Adventure with the springbok and the busted radiator.  The springbok came onto the highway, hitting the truck.  It was a0-0 score for the springbok was dead (prompty hauled away by several bystanders) and the cab’s radiator was punctured.  An effort was made to repair it so we could proceed to the nearest stop, the Seekeem Hotel where, after some six hours all told,  arrangements were made for the group to proceed on a mini bus, while the driver waited for  a new radiator to arrive from Capetown.  It was a wild night time ride by a driver who didn’t know the road.  But we got there before midnight and then, started playing catch-up with our planned schedule.  

I did some hiking though it was a hot day and then signed onto a evening four wheel drive through bushman grass and dunes with a magnificent sunset as reward.  Up the next morning for a Hot Air Balloon ride and breakfast, another extra,  over the unique red dunes which extended one and on and on.  Then onto Swakopmund, where I did my walkabout the town - very Dutch appearing - and my Birthday Sky Dive.  Up 10000 feet, free fall for 5000 and use the chute the rest of the way.  I must admit it was a tandem ride with a knowledgeable Brit who had been jumping for fourteen years but still a landmark experience for me.    Another jumper who went up with me was a 67 year old Brit, a technical writer, who had film and photos  taken of his jump so his wife would believe he’d done it.  

Then on for two days at Etosha, one of the premier reserves.  Seeing all sorts of animals at the watering holes was awesome.  Along one side of the road, there were several lions, resting after a good lunch, the remains of which we had seen a bit earlier on. Fantastic array of Elephants, warthogs, jackals, zebras, springboks and  giraffes.  You name it and it was hanging out at the Park.  Only problem, was we stayed about an hour from the Park which meant a long commute.  

Next was Waterburg Plateau, which reminded me of Sedona, Arizona.  Red rimed and rocky.  Climbed to the top with the plan of a longer, but easier path down.  We couldn’t find it so clambering down the same rocky trail.  Some of us went on down to the German Cemetery with the graves of soldiers killed in the l904 native uprising.  One of these days, I’m going to have to take rock climbing classes, considering how often I get stuck on these treacherous climbs.

Somewhere along the way, we had a flat tire, but that was nothing compared to the Springbok-radiator incident.  While the driver worked on the tire, we piled out of the vehicle and fixed  lunch. 

In a small Cessna, we flew into the Okavango Delta where we camped for two days at a safari lodge.  It was there I ran into the Canadians who were staying in proper Safari tents, not the camp tents we were in, albeit attached to a platform.  We both boated into the Delta as well as walked  some.  Sitting on the deck of the lodge and watching the animals parade by at sunset/sunrise , even though it was at a distance,  was  memorable. I did get to a local village where some of the lodge workers stayed: very basic with running water and  no electricity.  And it was here I met and talked to the local guides, who were passing through from a fishing trip.

Yeah, we had wild life: three lady warthogs happily occupied one of the bathrooms at night, happily curled about the toilet while the gentlemen warthogs slept under the tent platforms.  The local baboons ransacked  safari tents.   An elephant checked out  the dump site.    And a thunder and lightning storm - the tents held firm with minimal seepage -  completed the stay. Had a rock ‘n roll flight back - I suspect the pilot was no more than a foot from the ground part of the time - and then onto Chobe Park.

Chobe was  tops on my list.  I did both a boat tour  and the early morning Park drive.  The place was resplendent with wildlife.  Alligators, lions, elephants, water buffalo, vultures - you name it and it was there.  Parts are wet and green; parts are dry with shrub grass and small bushes.     Animals living free as they should. At one point we were midst  of a thirty elephant  herd.  Magnificent!  

We finished up at Victoria Falls.  I did the helicopter ride above the Falls before walking in the Park, where you were just across from them.  .  Either way you appreciated their majesty and vigor even as a hot dry summer had diminished them.  Never ridden in a Helicopter and the ride itself was great!  A Dutch woman in our group had lived near the Falls some forty years before so the pilot flew over her former home. And it was on the last night there, I discovered my fellow Cusselman.  

Things are tough in Zimbabwe:  there is a shortage of about everything.  It take several hours to several days to cross the Zimbabwe-Zambia border.  The gas station hasn’t had gas in five years.  Stores are deserted as vendors have moved to Livingston, Zambia, to ply their trade.   But still we ate well, buses and cars took us into town and at the airport.  I had no personal inconvenience.  

The actual traveling was in a safari truck.  The cab had an attached trailer built high up with wide windows so all could see wherever they sat.  The guide and drive communicated via intercom.  And both were outstanding and worked well  together.  Most lunches were picnic style, prepared by all with foodstuffs and equipment provided in the trailer below the seating area.  It was a participatory tour.  

There were sixteen to eighteen of us - several joined in Botswana.  Six Dutch, three Scots, two Brits, two Germans, two Aussies, two Slovakians and me, the lone American.  We had a doctor, two nurses, a pharmacist and three attorneys.  It was a surpassingly compatible bunch.  I roomed with the same woman for the entire trip and would travel with her again;  Scots, now living  and working in England, and quite knowledgeable about Africa.    

The accommodation was fine.   Other than the tents, the most basic was in Zimbabwe.  Food ranged from  picnic-style to excellent.  Game meats were the usual fare at the lodges though I found chicken.   I did spend  on optionals:  sunset land rover drive, hot air balloon trip, the Sky Dive, Chobe game ride, and the helicopter.  But then, I shall pass this way but once!

Cost:    The basic tour was $2021.75 (shared accommodation) plus $495 local costs.  Airfare SFO to Capetown and Victoria Falls to SFO was $1894 via United and South African Air.  It was an Imaginative Traveler listing though the actual tour was from Wildlife Adventures out of Capetown.  I booked through  Adventure  Center in Emeryville (800-227-8747). 

Because of the optionals ($800), I suspect this was one of the more expensive trips I’ve undertaken. Meals ran no more than a couple of hundred as breakfasts, most lunches and a dinner or two were included.  And for once,  I spent  little on souvenirs and curios; no rugs!     

Likely, I will return to Southern Africa; it’s on the list,  but next time will be Tanzania and Kenya. 

Down South to the Lawrence Symposium

I hadn’t been to any conferences since I left my day job some twenty years ago.  It was one of the benefits of retirement.  However, a symposium devoted  to T E Lawrence, held at the Huntington Library in Southern California tempted me, despite the fact it was only two days before I was to take off for three weeks in Africa.  I am really a Lawrence “nut” - have read several  dozen books by/about him and, for years, lugged a paperback edition of the Seven Pillars of Wisdom  when traveling.  (Recently, I gave it to a Kyrgyzstani guide who wanted to improve her English - figured she could do no better. )  

The symposium was fine:  two speakers were exceptional while with several others, the topics were much more interesting than the speakers.  I had just finished Frank Sterling’s autobiography, Safety Last - he had served with  Lawrence - and found it fascinating.  So it was rewarding to talk with people who appreciated my enthusiasm.

It was an Interesting bunch of people:  academics, Huntington Museum members, collectors, retirees and  travelers.  Most were local though one man, a retired actuary,  was from Colorado (he travels to all sorts of conferences be it   Churchill  or , Sherlock Holmes both in the States and in the UK.  Another was a retired curator from Texas.  The woman sitting in front of me had just returned from six years in Abu Dabai.  I did introduce myself to Jeremy Wilson, The Official Biographer of TE Lawrence (he and my favorite biographer, Michael Asher, have an online feud.  Probably, Wilson is more correct but Asher is a better writer  - and   actually retraced Lawrence’s desert journeys.)

Topics ranged from a discussion of the Lawrence of Arabia screen play to contrasting  TE and  DH Lawrence to the comics treatment of Lawrence to a comparison of Lawrence and Churchill. with several bits and pieces inbtween.  Best talk was a presentation of Lawrence’s precepts as they applied to present/future conflicts, e.g.: Iraq and China.  Seems General Praetorius is a Lawrence fan and has a copy of SPW nearby,  which gives me some hope.  

The included lunches were excellent with a wine and cheese selection at the end of the first day.  I stayed at a rather inexpensive but comfortable motel some two miles away.  Wasn’t too sure at first for as I was registering, a street person came in to book a room.  Dark with a rather squashed face that looked like he had been someone’s sparring partner - and lost!  His belonging were in half a dozen small plastic bags, his clothing was well worn and he obviously needed a bath.  I was curious how the young Asian girl at the motel desk would handle it.  She didn’t for a bit: told him the price, hoping he couldn't’ afford it.   He nodded and began  digging  various bills out of his pocket .  She retreated from the desk, calling out for backup but  no one came.  Finally, she plead no vacancies, which he accepted, put his money back in his pocket,picked up his various sacks and trundled off.  As it turned out, the motel  was in the auto row section of Pasadena where there were several other street people .  In my walk to and from the Museum, I became familiar with them.  

At the other end of the spectrum was  the setting for the sessions:  the Huntington Library, Museum and Gardens are most spectacular.  Over a hundred acres.  II walked around the Gardens - a Zen garden, a bonsai garden, a desert garden, a rose garden  and much, much more.  Magnificent.  I didn’t get into either the library or museum but that will be on the list when/if I return.   

The conference and Garden:  a worthwhile two days in Southern California.  

Now off to Africa.

 

Where Next?

Ah, what next?  Where do I want to go, what do I want to do, in the next few years.  During the past twenty, I’ve manage to take a look at over sixty countries, some of them more than once:  the UK, France, China, India, Nepal, Turkey, Croatia  - then there’s Canada -   Is that a Foreign Country?  I guess so,  for many Americans.  For me, it  seems more  an extension of the US (excepting a few  idiosyncratic pronunciations).  But I’ll count it.  

But back to the future:  Just before I’m to spend three weeks in Africa, I’ll take off for several days in Los Angeles area for a two day symposium on TE Lawrence, that most interesting and  enigmatic man.

Then,  I’m off to   Capetown, on through Botswana and Namibia to Victoria Falls.  Reserves and preserves - a chance to see forests and animals native to the area.  I don’t go to zoos for penned and tied up animals, human and otherwise, shrivels my soul.    I worked in a prison  and was in and out of jails in a past life; no more!   To share in  the freedom of  two and four legged creatures will be a delight.  My roommate on this trip has spent time with baboons in the wild so  I’m looking forward to learning from her experience.  Anyway, that is October, the month of my birthday, no longer  a particularly  festive event.  Just the march of time imprinting itself on my being!

Moving on, I will be in Yemen for Christmas and maybe   Oman.  Not enough signed on for a tour with  dhow cruise so I am considering doing it independently.  Hate to waste the  reading on Oman, which had the SAS charging around in the fifities and seventies and James/Jan Morris accompaning the Sultan on an inland  tour in the fifties.    

March 2008  is planned, if all goes well, for Afghanistan.  I will be part of a Global Express people-to-people group, focusing on Women Making Change.  I plan to stay over an additional few days and   work something out with a local travel firm; find out how much of the countryside I can safely see.    Having finally finished Hopkirk’s The Great Game, I’m ready to take a look around this country that has been  the center of  political activity for all so many years.  I even   bought my BA tickets to Dubai - they were having a sale - so all I need do is purchase fare onto Kabul, which I will do when I return from Africa.  

Then onto the UK for a couple of weeks  in May-June 2008 with Elderhostel, a group I usually avoid.  It’s expensive and the participants are pretty  much a While Bread bunch, at least at the few things I’ve attended.  But the topic drew me in::  The Man Behind James Bond; celebrating Ian Fleming’s 100th to be followed by an extension: The Cambridge Spies.  The first gathering in London and the second in Cambridge.  I’m fascinated by this bunch of upper crust guys who signed on to the Soviet Union’s cause.  I’ve read the books of  Rebecca West, Nigel West  and Philip Knightley on the topic.  I’ve also read a bio of St John Philby, Kim Philby’s father, which may explain something of Kim Philby’s personality.  What sold me, despite the expense, were that the speakers include not only  Nigel West but Andrew Lownie, who wrote a bio of John Buchan, another of my heroes. And interestingly, I’ve been reading books by and about Fitzroy Maclean, said to be one of the models for James Bond.   And I plan to get away to  see some performances.  

No other commitments but plans:    tentative  for October is to volunteer for a archeological dig around the Hejaz RR in Jordan, the area covered by TE Lawrence during WW1.  Brits are sponsoring this and there was an article about last year’s results in   History Today.  Since It’s a twenty year project, I’m hoping to sign on in 2008 as the Africa trip interferedwith  this year’s trip..

And nothing definite for December, my  other travel month.  Never  home for the holidays is my mantra.   

I have a list, god knows I have a list:  Mali, Libya (whenever visas are available), Sudan (also no visas -  unless you’re Madonna or Jolene  adopting), Algeria, Eastern Europe (Serbia, Montenegro, Kosovo, Poland, Romania), the Baltic countries. Laos, Kurdish part of Iraq, Dubouti, Eritrea and then back into Ethiopia.  And somewhere along the way, either an Arctic or Antarctic cruise.

At the moment, I’m not interested in Central or South America, at least not until I work through the rest of the list.  There is a desert trek in Egypt close to the Sudan-Libya border that could tempt me; I think it’s by truck rather than camel.  Camel may be the cool way to go but I don’t appreciate the camel’s  spit - and I can’t project a good response! 

To Visa or not to Visa

Visas

Until three years ago, I did my own visas.  Got the forms, filled them out,  and FedExed them with the passport to the appropriate consultant or embassy.  I always had my fingers crossed as I sent the packet off, but the system worked.  Until Bangladesh!

I had already obtained the necessary Indian visa and, per usual, I downloaded the  Bangladesh forms, completed them and sent them with passport and payment to the address I found on the internet.  Time passed.  I finally telephoned and E-mailed the Bangladesh people.  No one, nada,  had any knowledge of my application and passport  despite FedEx showing delivery.   Which lead to my  having to frantically  hassle and get a new passport and visa forms which I FedExed, but not back  to the Bangladesh embassy in Washington DC but, for a Sixty Dollar service fee, to an agency handling visas.  Who. also for a price,  processed my new request for  Indian visas.   

While the agency was handling all the visa requests,  I received a E-mail from the Bangladesh people - they had found my now invalid passport with application forms and what did I want them to do with it. My   unspoken response was pretty vile. My spoken response was for them to simply return everything.

Since, I have debated about going back to handling visas myself.   It’s certainly easier to mange what with everything being computerized.   And it is cheaper!  But I have memories of Bangladesh.  So I have surrendered to paying a goodly sum for a private   agency to handle it for me.  Which probably paid off on this trip.  For without them, I would have gotten two visas I don’t need.  

For recently,  not only did I need a visa for Zimbabwe, but I needed pages added to my passport.  I was  afraid of sending the passport in to SF for pages what with all the overflow and delays at  the US  Passport Agency.  So I sent  everything in for the private agents  to handle.  In the meantime, I got a notice from the tour people:  they required  I have three other visas, South Africa, Namibia and Botswana,  in advance of my trip. When I  talked with  both the  passport agency and my travel advisor, I got a mixed message until the passport person E-mailed me info from US government posting on the countries concerned.

US citizens did not need visas for South Africa and Botswana and one could pick up the visa for Namibia at entry.   Which saved me close to Two Hundred Bucks, as using the Passport agency isn’t cheap.  However they really earned their money in researching  requirements for me.   

So, I will continue to use them.  At least, I’m assured of getting the passport returned  with a visa, even  at a cost.  Or not getting a visa as conditions require!

Trip to the Past

I tend not to focus on the past - it’s over and done with.  It’s not my style to return to the scene of the crime, e.g.: reunions.  I’ve managed to stay hidden from both Universities that I attended, but somehow, have been found out by my midwestern high school who had a sixth reunion scheduled for September.  And you must realize, I left  for the West Coast upon graduation. never returned and didn’t keep in contact with anyone.  I did not have particularly fond memories of my adolescence.  I felt I didn’t quite fit in,  which is difficult for a young person.  (It turns out I still don’t fit in the conventional mold,  but I have come to terms with it.)  

So I probably would have ignored the reunion notice if it wasn’t that my seventy-two year old nephew, living in Minnesota, was scheduled for a kidney transplant in August.  We had not been in close contact. I hadn’t seen him or his younger brother in fifteen years and before that,  maybe half a dozen times at most, dating from diaper days. There was some E-mail contact and Christmas cards. I decided  we should get together before one or the other of us bit the dust.  

So, combine nephew in Minnesota and reunion in South Dakota.  Why not?    Seeing Jack was high on my agenda; attending the reunion was low on the totem pole.  

So courtesy of Northwest Airlines, I flew back, in more ways than one.   The Minnesota visit   was beyond any  expectation:  the younger nephew showed up from Wisconsin with his wife so we had a leisurely four days to get (re)acquainted.  The older brother, a retired computer type,   lives on a lake, a resort area though many people work in the nearby town, amidst trees, wildlife and 42” circumference mushrooms.  It’s an area where his mother and father had had a cabin; he and his wife  built a place nearby and then purchased some sixty acres across the way, so effectively, he has his own park.  

He is a keeper; doesn’t throw stuff away:  has snowmobiles, boats and a Triumph Spitfire among other keepsakes.  But then, he has places to store stuff:  attics, barns and sheds.  (I could have snuck off with the Spitfire!)  

Though poles apart politically, it turned out my younger nephew, an attorney and former judge,  and I were familiar with the same books and music. All of us  had the same weird sense of humor.   We  shared much of our lives,  contributing family information one or the other was unfamiliar with.  Both wives were  a wonderful  asset and    We may not have had much of a “past” but we certainly now  have a “present”.  

And the great thing was that  the transplant was successful.  

When I left, I really didn’t care how the rest of the trip turned out:  this had been a great experience.  And as I had no real expectations for the reunion, it  couldn’t be a  disappointment.

There were three gatherings, one at a classmates home atop a ridge on the edge of town.  About twenty of the eighty in our class of l947, appeared.  .  Another twenty or so had died, leaving twenty left floating about in space.  Name tags saved me, an   unknown at these affairs.  A number had remained in the area and another bunch seemed to be regular attendees.  Several I recognized by sight but the rest - nada!  There were a few  who went out of their way to greet me,  but generally I felt there was little change in the pecking order;  I was still identified as the “Superintedent’s Daughter”!  Which was one of the reasons I escaped with no intent to return.  I was (and am)  determined to be my own person!  
 
The other reason I left,  was the lack of privacy in a small town..  Still true.  I walked the several miles to the  classmate’s home for a  lunch.  That night and the next day, I was now identified as the unique individual  who did the walkabout. (Since I didn’t have a car and didn’t see a bus, I don’t know how else I was to get there; I did hitch a ride back.)

That  afternoon, I went to the home of a woman, who had been my close friend in High School and who didn’t attend the reunion.  We talked for an hour or so; life hadn’t treated her well or vice versa, but I was glad to see her.  The next morning I was asked what I was doing on that particular street!  

I did enjoy wandering about, seeing the changes but  also  amazed at the remaining homes and buildings I remembered.  The businesses had changed; I could find almost none from the high school days.  The old library had been torn down and a well designed new one built, named for my father; I did get there and talked with the head librarian.  The football field was the same but both my home and the neighboring Episcopal Church had been torn down.   

It was a trip to the past.  I don’t regret going, but been there, done that!  

(interestingly, the day after I returned,  I had dinner with a former coworker from at least forty years ago; he and his wife were visiting the Bay area from Pennsylvania where he retired from college teaching.  Again, we were dredging up memories from the past.  Loved seeing him, but enough already!)