February 7-26,2015: Ethiopia: the Danakil and Omo Valley, plus Somaliland and Zanzibar!

Subject:	February 7-26 2015: Ethiopia: the Danakil and Omo Valley, plus Somaliland and Zanzibar.
Date:	Tue, Mar 3, 2015 3:38 pm

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Since I first wandered into Ethiopia in 2007, the Danakil depression, that place of  fascination and desolation, had been high on my bucket list.  I had touched on the Afar Triangle  on my  last trip in the region. That and  Wilfred Thesinger's writing only intensified my interest in the region.  But security concerns - British consulate employes had been taken hostage during that first trip into Ethiopia - kept me away for a time.  But when I understood the government was planning to develop the area's mineral resources, I sure wanted to get there before that happened.  While it was still pristine. 

A British company had recently began tours into the area but there was a fair amount of trekking involved, too much for me.   Then, this year, Spiekermann Travels advertised the Danakil as part of a more extensive tour into Ethiopia, Somaliland and Zanzibar.  I hadn't great enthusiasm about a return to the Omo Valley but the rest of the schedule was tempting. And  I knew the guide for Ethiopian segments was tops:  Asrat Kahsay at Image Ethiopia Tours.

We (there were six of us) flew from Addis Ababa to Makale in the north, then driving into the Afar  and the Danakil, there for four days, escorted by three  armed  military.  We stayed at a small village, Hamed Ela, sleeping on platforms and a mat, either outside or in lean-tos or sheds.  Buildings, such as they were, used poles, branches, pieces of wood, material, cardboard and fabric in the construction.  Very basic though we did have portable facilities.  The cook that traveled with us was superb - he managed excellent meals under adverse conditions.

Interestingly, there was an Italian academic there for a month, studying the effect of a nearby mining operation on the Afar people. 

For two days we drove about in Land Cruisers,  exploring  the Depression, the lowest point in Africa and one of the hottest places on earth.  The desert is covered with scrub, land fit for a camel.  But there were some bits of unique landscape:  colorful mineral beds and out growths of sandstone called The Chimneys - quite spectacular. 

But it was the never ending parade of camels with their cargo of salt that memorized  me.  Chunks of salt are mined and shaped into blocks by the Afar people, loaded onto camels (and a few patient donkeys) and taken (a four day trip?) to proper roads and trucks where the salt is loaded onto trucks for further distribution.  Photos of the never ending lines of camels trudging across  lava beds and desert are on the internet; there is  a particular notable shot by Michael Poliza  in the Lufthansa Magazine for November 2011. 

The area is also known for  volcanoes and we (five of us; one elected not to go) drove to a nearby village to get the headman's permission to continue on to Erta Ale, one of the active volcanoes.  A three hours-plus walk/climb.  In the interests of full disclosure, I must admit I cheated and did most of it, coming and going, on a camel - some of it in the dark.  Beyond  was the walk to the lip of the crater where you could watch the swirl of the firey lava bubble up.  My first experience with a volcano and it was awesome!

There were others there.  In fact, one group was leaving as we were arriving.  When we had our fill of the primordial scene, we returned to a late supper and sleep, before negotiating the ill defined, rocky path down.

The night on the mountain in  sleeping bags was where  I had the best sleep of the trip.  Early next morning when still dark, we headed down and out to the autos.  On to Hamed Ela and breakfast.  And back to Mekele and a proper shower before we flew to Addis for part two of the four part tour.

So off to the Rift Valley and the various African tribes.  Unlike my earlier trip where I  had camped, we stayed at   lodges. some more basic than others but all quite comfortable, during our seven day visit. We stopped  at at least half a dozen villages and at least three markets. 

  The people were in all sorts of dress:  from body painting, braided hair and beads to cast offs of Western clothing.  They were experienced in dealing with the Westerner and charged for photos - it was strictly business.  Five birr a shot!

Despite a couple of flats we persevered. Roads were crowded with all kinds of vehicles:  tuks-tuks, ox and donkey carts, scooters and bikes, trucks and buses, cars and carriages- plus the livestock and the walkers.  Ethiopia is full of those who walk from place to place. Tribal people as well as the more Westernized.

Most village dwellings are with thatched roofs, conical in shape.  Often family and livestock share. Some still hunter-gathers (except for the 5 birr photo income!) and a  contrast with the Fly Emirates shirts which were popular with many males. 

I was most impressed with a tribal chief, who was working at Addis as an engineer when called home to assume the leader's responsibility upon his father's death.  While he missed the amenities of civilization, there was no question but his life was now with his tribe.  He was attractive and  articulate and patient with our questions.

I tended to  wander about the villages, watching women grooming themselves, checking out  the elders who were checking us out, and enjoying the wee ones chasing each other about in what seemed to be a combination of tag and hid'nseek.  I just wasn't into the commercialization   with the photo shoots. 

At one place, I sat with our drivers at the local "Starbucks" where a young woman was serving coffee and also acting as the bank for villagers.  A fair amount of activity, particularly with a young man who kept taking and then returning monies to her and with a rather possessive manner toward her.  I would have loved to have known their story.

I think it was our  last village where a local took photos of our tour group as they were  negotiating  for photos of the villagers.  Serendipity.

Next was the flight to and one night in Hargesia, the capital of the declared but unrecognized country of Somaliland.  Again, we acquired security - two armed uniformed men.  and  with an young, attractive and delightful   Moslim woman as guide.  The afternoon was spent in the dusty and crowded town center.  Mostly one story, corrugated metal roofed shops though a few more modern building were in the works.  Trucks were decorated a la Indian/Pakistani custom.

The next morning found us at the camel market before going onto Laas geel aand the spectacular rock paintings. Located in a series of caves,  they were really quite unique.  Enroute, I noticed a large and modern boarding school built by  Kuwaitees, at odds with  more prevalent primitive structures.  Women were  covered. We were told we need not be, but I noticed the Western women at the hotel were wearing  scarfs so i followed custom. 

NGOs were around but it is the British who take  most interest in the welfare of Somaliland.  Natural as it was once British.  They have their own currency but lack UN recognition as a sovereign state.  Someone's hope is that they will peacefully reunite with Somalia.

Last, but certainly not least, was Zanzibar. a semi autonomous  region of Tasmania.  And Tasmania apparently is not happy with the US for it cost us about double for the visa.

Beforehand, I didn't know half of our group had opted out of the Zanzibar portion - didn't know I could.  If I had known, probably would have.    I am  glad I didn't know, for I really enjoyed the time there.

There was the  tour of Stone town, the old city, starting at the old slave market, walking through the active souk and then the old stucco buildings with shops in various nooks and crannies.  Zanzibar is a city waiting to be photographed and I was without camera - used the last shots of the throw-a-way in Hargesia.  The big attraction of Zanzibar is the doors. There are many of them:  various sizes, woods and decorations - seeing is believing. 

The other notable sight was the red colobus monkeys who hopped and swung about, posing for the tourists.  Of which there were some. For this is a vacation spot par excellence!   There was the spice tour, a chance to see the plants used in the various seasonings, and a walk through the jungle area.  Zanzibar has it all!

I must mention the hotel:  The Serena, one of a number of 5* hotels operated by the Shia Ismaili Moslim sect and the Aga Khan.  Taking two old time waterfront buildings - one had been a dispensary - they developed a luxurious seafront hotel consistent with the local architecture.  I was familiar with the Ismailis' support of clinics and schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan, so had little hesitancy about  contributing.  (The other 5* hotel I've stayed at is Dwarka's in Kathmandu, where the owners also contribute earnings  to the community.  Both reflect the styles of their respective cultures.)

So endth the tour.  After two nights in paradise, two of us started on our flight to SFO:  Zanzibar to Addis to Rome to DC to SF.  One stayed on for two more days. The trip home was long but went smoothly.

Food:  Breakfasts and Dinners were usually at the hotel/lodges/camps and were excellent.  Choices from pasta to chicken.  I tended to go vegetarian:  Rice and veggies but with chicken soup.  Noon meals were often at a local restaurant - good and varied.

Accommodations:  A wide range:  In town, 4*.  In the countryside, comfortable lodges.  In the Danakil, basic - see photo of Afair dwellings.

Cost:  This was an all inclusive tour from Washington DC onward:  $1,262.82.   Airfare SFO-IAD:  $424.20   Tips and visas:  $400. Cat care: $600.

care: $600.

Conclusion:  Expensive but the Danakil made it all worthwhile.  Now moving to the head of the bucket list is  a visit to the Taklamaken, a fierce Chinese desert. Next trip, though, is the Siberian Railway.                                                                           

Jo Rawlins Gilbert
Palo Alto CA  94303
USA

http://jos-travel-blog.blogspot.com

Eleven Days in Venezuela: January 2015

With the change in US-Cuban relations, it seemed a good time to visit the other  nearby socialist country, Venezuela and see how they were faring.  I went as a delegate for Global Exchange, which through Reality Tours, works to develop a better understanding of various world communities.   It was my fifth trip with them - I like their investigative approach.  Some sight seeing but mostly chances to talk with locals, in and out of government,  about what is and what is not working for them.  And in Venezuela, it seemed a lot was not working.

We were a group of  five at most.  Three of us in Caracas, including a very able guide-translator with two more inland: another guide and a driver.  I was the only non-Spanish speaker for the other delegate was a Brazilian, who was conversant in English and Spanish along with his Portuguese. A good travel companion.

 

We were in Caracas for several days, then nearly a day's bus ride for an overnight  at  Barquisimeto before moving further inland onto Sanare in the Andean foothills.  Four nights there, and then,  the whole process repeated with the trip concluding in Caracas. 

Caracas, reportedly a city of violence.  I experienced none but I was safely ticked away in a security barred hotel after dark.  And this hotel was only one of many barred,  gated, fenced, secured buildings, not only in Caracas but in  other places visited.  Part of it may be a Spanish tradition of enclosed buildings but mostly it seemed to be  security.  Iron barred fences offer little aesthetically.  My immediate reaction was:  South Africa, where there were similar safety measures taken. 

Caracas was crowded and colorful.  the sightseeing  ranged  from cathedrals  to the Presidential palace to Altamira Square to Simon Boliver's home.  Bolivar is the historical hero, even though the Venezuelans kicked him out when he proved too autocratic for them.  There were several cops gathered, as cops do, at the square - being friendly.  One happily practiced his English with me. And women were incorporated into the police services, both local and federal.

We rode about on the Metro, designed by the same French company as did the Bay area's BART system - the main difference was the Caracas system had the rainbow stripe on the cars. It worked well, as opposed to an overcrowded city bus system.  Up and over the barrios is a Metro Cable, used by hillside residents who had had no transportation options.

And I felt there were three distinct segments to Caracas:  in the south, the poor in the barrio; up north, the rich secured in their haciendas, and the rest of us that conducted business in mid town.  I didn't see a lot of begging though there was a man in a wheelchair, in the midst of traffic holding a sign - he was upset when I took a photo and I have no way to let him know, the photo didn't turn out.  But in the City, as well as the country, there was a lot of hanging out by guys of varying ages.  And I was told alcohol abuse was a big problem.

Venezuelans seem not to like a blank wall:  there have be signs, painting, announcements or graffiti - and often all four combined.  Our guide was explaining some of the more important events and persons in the country's history, using paintings on a wall - with graffiti superimposed.  Also, in front of a more pristine area was a street preacher with his audience of twenty-odd.

We did get to the University, full of energetic and talkative students, mostly young but a few of middle years.  Books stalls were on the campus, given space on the basis they would discount books for college clientele.  My companion-in-travel took advantage of the opportunity to pick up some reading material. 

Met with several students at the cafe:  young and enthusiastic.  Considered part of the opposition as they did not support the current president.  Seemingly. they supported the new Constitution that came into effect with Chavez, the charismatic  leader who upended the Old Regime in 1998, but were not happy with Chavez' anointed successor, Maduro.  A foot soldier  (vice president) in Chavez' administration, he didn't have the cajones to effectively lead after Chavez' death.  The students believed he had become too enamored with power and needed to be replaced.  (The problem is, per our guide, there are no serious choices.)

One of the first things I saw was a long line, around the block, to a small so-called Super Market.  Reportedly, the store had milk.  This was the first of my experiences with the shortages in goods.  Cooking oil, toilet paper, toothpaste and soap were among the basics hard to come by.  And this was wide spread:  our guide  collected stuff throughout the trip, to bring home for his mom's use.  As he said:  distribution sucks!  Apparently, a combination of both stupidity and corruption contribute to the shortages. 

Water was another scarce item.  Our hotel turned off the water from 8 PM to 6:30 AM.  There was no water for the sinks in public toilets, you flushed "only when you must" and best have your own toilet paper for none was provided - unless an enterprising woman had some she sold as you entered the facilities.  And this was not just in the city!

Also and not just in the City:  little evidence of smoking.  Many no smoking signs.  And no smokers out and about,

Moving on, in a two decker bus with impaired air conditioning, out of the City and with escorts outnumbering delegates, we got a look at the countryside and meet with the people who were working within and outside the system to provide goods and services for the citizens.   Chavez had set the path for Improvement of the poor's  lot for they overwhelm, if not inherit, the country.

In Barquisimeto, we met with representatives  of  a youth group and a council  leader and their efforts effect change. On our last night returning to Caracas, the youth group did a music and dance presentation - led by our local guide, a sometime drummer and guitarist.  

Most interesting to me, was a chat with a local police officer.  Jail/prisons are overcrowded and the criminal justice system is overwhelmed.  As a result, there are people detained at police stations, not for the normal three days but up to  a year and beyond.  The local guide talked of a relative who was detained for several years before trial, then sentenced to eight months which he served in addition.  The officer also talked about the lack of respect police get from the community; our guide talked about the pay offs to police to have arrest erased. 

Sanare has a history of collectives, cooperative and communal efforts, some predating Chavez.  He certainly wasn't forgotten with picture and portraits ever present.  Though in a folk art market, we had trouble finding  his facsimile and were told it is no longer a hot item.  I saw nothing of Maduro.

I was impressed with the efforts to make eduction available outside the public school systems.  Several groups provide classes to those who missed out, including college and/or  technical work; one, Mision Robinson is mentioned in Wildipedia.  Family medical care was headed by the mayor's son, an attractive and committed individual; despite being a Catholic country, family planning services were provided. 

We did get to a community based radio station and talked with two of the collective operating it.  One was a dual citizen American-Venzuelan, who felt he had to come and participate in the Revolution:  I either read about it or I'm here! 

What else?  A fertilizer and farm cooperative where our guides and driver proved their worth by shoveling away.  Also I ended up with some  great Yogurt.  And there was the representative of the coffee cooperative, one of many throughout the country.   Plus a pasta making collective. A Women's cooperative that wasn't doing much business as they  didn't  have the produce to preserve.  But all people of good will and ambition, taking the time to explain to two foreigners their hopes for themselves and their Community.

One man I remember particularly:  he talked of working with areas that had mutual interests for their betterment, apart from the governmental boundaries.  Eventually, he hoped the natural boundaries would replace the artifical ones of the state.  Couldn't help but think of the Western powers and how they divided up the Middle East after WW1 and look what's happened!

We spent time with an ex-pat who had been in Sanare for twenty years and in the area much longer.  She was a committed Chavez supporter but critical of Maduro.  Her take:  Chavez tried to be the good father who gave everything to his people but forgot they needed to work for/earn some things. They are paying the price, particularly with the oil revenues tanking.  However, she still sees herself as a Chavez supporter, even given Maduro's limitations. .

Accommodations:  Caracas:  A basic C- hotel, but with wi-fi.  In fact, wi-fi abounds and with outlets at pit stops for the cell phones/ipads. Well located near bus station and computer center.  Had but had to ask for toilet paper.  Barquisimeto: Best  hotel of the lot.  A small hotel with computer and electronic oven for residents.  No soap but can't have everything.  Sanare: Out of town in the hills; a retreat for families.  Large rooms and meals prepared there.  Computer center nearby but out of service one day and occupied by kids the others.  Had to fight my way through.

Meals:  We were well fed.  My only problem was I couldn't eat as much as was served and I'm not a beans and rice for breakfast person.  Fortunately, I found yogurt and had some energy bars with me.  Lots of chicken.  Little ice cream though I did get a couple of cones in Sanare.

Cost:  Total:  under $6000 including cat care.  Tour was $1900 (which included two meals a day) and air fare was $1366.

Overall:  there's a lot of good energy around that the government could make work more efficiently.  But I could say that about the US. 

Leaving was interesting:  waiting in the airport, the television had a promo on about visiting Venezuela.  Beautiful sunsets, water skiing, sexy women, buffed men  - where was I?

Jo Rawlins Gilbert
Palo Alto CA  94303
USA

http://jos-travel-blog.blogspot.com

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GARP 2014 in Jordan

This was the ninth and last year of  the Great Arab Revolt Project.   Originally projected to be a ten year study, the Directors closed out the field work this year.  Several  articles had been  recently published about the operation, both in  popular and professional media, principally discussing finds at  T E Lawrence's camp at Tooth Hill in southern Jordan.  We returned there this year and then, behind the Hill  to check for further evidence of British/Ottoman presence. 

I was assigned to field walks there and later,  excavations at Ramala  - the usual  scraping, digging, toting and, bless Allah, very little sieving. But tent rings, ah yes,always  tent rings.  And working on them with the same mentor with whom  I had  begun seven years before.  

There were twenty of us, professional and amateur, wandering about with  trowel in hand.  As always, several were former military:  British, American and Australian. Others were  archaeologists, history buffs, and TEL devotees.  Our usual lot, always a compatible bunch.  Three were new to the Project.

Stayed at the Edom Hotel at Wadi Mousa, again returning to my roots, for I had  stayed there when I first came to Jordan with an Explore group, in 2004.  Little changed.  And as I wandered about Petra particularly, the thought occurred more than once, I shall not pass this way again. The day there makes the entire trip worthwhile.  Awesome!

A most memorable event:  the opportunity to ride one of the small working units down the Hejaz Railway from Ma"an to Wadi Rtm, about an hour and a half.   A look at the landscape as the Ottomans saw it during WW1.  A look up at sites we'd worked on in years past.  A opportunity I never thought I'd have.  To be on the tracks whose existence was such a thorn in the side of the British.  That was blown up by the Arabs and friends, time and again. 

Another highlight: The chance to see Desi, the air field used by Squadron X.  Rather plowed up at present, but  one can imagine - or rather, look at old photos.  The beginning of what countries now rely on:  aerial warfare.  A sadness that such a beautiful experience, flying, gets used in such a  destructive way.  Now bombing used in lieu of Boots on the Ground!  Starting with the Brits in Iraq, post WW1.  Bummer!

Not only did we have several days off - with options for Petra and Aqaba - but there was time to visit past sites, ride the railroad, and walk about the ancient Roman and more contemporary Ottoman   lands.  And for the archaeologists, there were the finds which confirmed - or not -  various hypotheses. 

Aqaba is a resort city, much built up recent years, but with few tourists this year.  For that matter, Wadi Mousa/Petra have also suffered.  Stores were shuttered  and maintenance was raggedy.  More locals than visitors - which may be as it should be.  One ship was docked for the day with its passengers out and about to the delight of local vendors.  The city is much more than when I first visited; doubtful the WW1 cast of characters would recognize it. 

In the time I have spent in Jordan, I have gotten to many notable places:  Allenby Bridge,Jerash, Umm Qais/Al-Himma, the Dead Sea, Azraq, Karak, Shobak, Wadi Rum, Little Petra as well as Petra proper.  That is in addition, to many spots in the desert, used offensively and defensively by Ottomans and Arabs and Brits during WW1.  One of our directors commented that we GARPies were more familiar with the desert than the locals

N.B.: Not only  almost didn't get there but had problems returning:  going, my shuttle never appeared - found a neighbor to take me to the airport.  Returning, held over 24 hours in Amman as the pilot bashed his head entering the cockpit for four stitches worth - then, United came to the rescue in Frankfort, seeing me home as the Lufthansa pilots were on strike. 

Interestingly, one of my fellow passengers in Amman was a former military man who had been visiting at the Embassy - told me the Jordanians plan a big Arab Revolt celebration in June 2016.  So I may be back after all!

(For details, check garp-2014.blogspot.com, the ongoing project's blog with outstanding photos.)
 

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  4 Attached Images

London-Oxford Sep 2014

It was 1986 that I first went overseas and that was London.  Twenty eight years ago.  London has changed and so have I.  But I enjoyed my week there as much as I did at the start.  Stayed in Russell Square. Walked from Sadler's Wells to Marble Arch to Picadilly.  Managed seven shows, one concert,  one museum and several meals with friends.  I could have kept busy another week.

As I have in recent years, stayed at The Celtic Hotel, a delightful bed and breakfast, costing £61 a night with facilities down the stairs.  I was housed in a smalll but  immaculately clean room on the top floor - good exercise climbing up. There was a choice of hot and cold dishes at breakfast, prepared  to order.  And a comfortable lobby with reading material and brochures for the visitor.  Last time I was there, I was with my niece and we splurged for insuite facilities. 

Two of the plays I saw were  concerning current England.  One a projection of the future with Prince Charles as monarch; the other a commentary on the Murdoch hacking.  Both well done.  I finally got to Book of Morman, which I missed here - and well worth it.  Clever musical comedy without demeaning  the religion. 

I did get to the Sunday morning concert at the Wigmore.  I had chanced picking up tickets and nearly missed out.  But half an hour in the returns line and I lucked out.  In fact, other than two dance events, I hadn't arranged for any tickets.  A friend had purchased a ticket for Balletboyz performancei in the small theatre at the Royal Opera House (they  sold out, on line) and I had called for a seat for Ladysmith Mombassa and the accompanying dance company. Those two movement events were a contrast with an acrobatic performance I attended Sunday afternoon, along with a passle of youngsters:  Nutcracker matinee atmosphere. 

A nearby University museum had an excellent exhibiton on the Sikhs during WW1, the UK being in the midst of celebrating  the 100th anniversary of The Great War.  More Sikhs in attendance than Westerners, which is as it should be?

Got together with several friends from  traveling days. Some  of us have been able to get together  regularly for various trips.  Through them, I always discover new and interesting restaurants. 

London continues to be one of my favorites cities.  More and more, a mix of nationalities, both with residents and tourists.  A lot of restoration and building going on.  Resulting numerous Diversions.    I suspect I could get around quicker than than taxis. 

Always, I do one of the London Walks.  I redid the Spy Walk, same guide from five years ago, and his spiel hadn't changed that much.  The only difference was I was somewhat more knowledgeable.  I also had in hand, Roy Berkeley's A Spy's London - a much more extension review of the where's of the intelligence world. 

Then it was the Oxford Tube (really, an express bus) from Victoria Station to Oxford, where I stayed in quarters at St John's College where the TE Lawrence Symposium took place. With nothing planned for the night of arrival, I scooted off to the local playhouse and saw a nice production of She Stoops to Conquer.  As I walked about Oxford, kept looking for Inspectors Morse and Lewis - no success. 

The next several days were filled with gathering of the devoted: those fixating on Lawrence and his activities.    Surprising number of Americans and few from other European countries.  Half a dozen from the Great Arab Revolt crew. Ah, several wars later, we still dissect TEL, this  idiosyncratic figure from WW 1 Middle East days.

The presentations ranged from excellent or awful.Topics ranged from  the Arab view of the WW1 conflict, TEL's relationships with Thomas Hardy (author) and Lady Kathleen Scott (sculpturess and widow of the Arctic explorer), Lawrence in his early days as an archaeologist, TEL and Lowell Thomas (reporter), private printing presses and lecture circuits. 

Because of acoustics an evening lecture was totally incomprehensible for me.  But the food was excellent.  Accommodations spacious though again, with shared  plumbing.  But remember, for a weekend you are an Oxford student. 

Got to Heathrow via another express bus, early enough for an earlier flight home.  But, no room at the inn!  Full up, so waited four hours for my scheduled flight.  Serendipitiously, had the same two seatmates on the return trip as did going out.  They ad hiked along the Cornwall coast since I last talked with them. 

Not as exhilarating as the first time in London; good enough to keep returning.

 

No camera this trip around - a real feeling of freedom as I didn't have to consider photo shoots.

Helsinki to Berlin and the Baltics Inbetween: August 1014

On its face, it looked like an If-Its-Tuesday-It-Must-Be-Riga tour.  Two nights in half a dozen places:  five cities and two parks.  Well, one was really a combination:  Klaipeda was an interesting city at the entry to the Curonian Split, shared with Russia.  And that's another story.

Our tour group consisted of three plus the Intrepid leader.  All guys but me.  A obnoxious  Aussie, a  delightful  German and a knowledgeable  Brit as  guide. As is the practice on Intrepid tours, local transport and budget accommodation is used.  So  ferry, bus, and train.  Only once were we in a private van. We stayed at two to three star hotels, guesthouses and a home stay.

Starting in Helsinki, we went to Tallinn, then to Riga followed by  the Curonian Split which included Klaipedia, then  Vilnius and onto   the Aukstaitija National Park homestay, then Warsaw, ending  in East Berlin. Sounds more overwhelming that it actually was though several days were spent more traveling than sightseeing.

You could track the tour  by the graffeti:  Little in Helsinki and Tallinn, then an increase in Riga, Klaipeda and Vilnius,  moving right along in Warsaw and then, the mother of all graffeti in East Berlin.  In Latvia and Lithuania, I was told it was related to soccer but not in Poland and Germany.  Most of it was meaningless though there a a few bits of creativity in Warsaw.  The old Berlin  Wall was decorated with  art work,  then marred with  taggers' scrawls. 

 Helsinki seemed a bit different:  I couldn't find my way about town and didn't find the cafes and other landmarks I remembered.  But everything was pristine clean throughout the Baltics.  Tallinn hadn't changed that much since I was there in 1995, nearly twenty years ago. More people but the same ancient buildings. Tallinn was the smallest and most medieval - full of charm.  Also full of tourists who ferry over from Helsinki for the day, as I had years before.

Riga was a bit larger and very middle Europe.  Old Town  was more spread out .  Here there was a local guide who had served in the Forces for seven years, including a year at language school in Texas - proudly wearing the Western style belt purchased while there.  A real charmer. I spent one evening at the local ballet, a sad version of Othello, very bad Russian styling.  But a lovely Opera House and an appreciative audience. 

Next was Klaipeda and the Curonian Split:  Klaipedia, once Prussian,  had been one of the Hanseatic Ports in the old days. Port was still active.   A five minute ferry ride took us over to the Split, where, with a local guide lead us, via local bus, to two of the resort villages along the way.  The Split was formed over centuries and encloses a large lagoon.  It ends at just above Kaliningrad. A delightful and scenic area. It was our guide on this excursion who offered the most unique solution to the possibility of Russian incursion:  Latvia should declare war on Sweden and then promptly, surrender.  

Villnuis was larger and more modern with a good sized Old Town of churches and shops.  Maybe, my favorite city.  Watched the  change of flags before the main government building:  three flagpoles which normally  had flown   three Lithuanian flags, now flying the European Union banner and NATO's emblem in addtiton to the National flag.  Had time here to walk into the main part of the city.  Sat in a plush hotel to listen to the pianist.  Good restaurants.  Great ice cream.

Off then to the unpronounceable Aukstaitija National Park where we slept and ate in a local guesthouse.  The guys did a Kayak ride about the streams and lakes.  Three of us did  several serious walks the following day, necessary to work off the  marvelous meals.  A glorious peaceful break in the in the schedule.  Grandparents, helped by daughter and granddaughter from Vilnius, ran the homestay and were gracious hosts.

From here,  a long trip to Warsaw, an newly built city done in the old style.  For it had been decimated by WW2 bombings.plus damage from the Uprising, when the Poles fought the Germans while the Russians waited.    The Uprising Museum was extraordinary:  you felt you were in the midst of the conflict.  I was teary eyed, watching the films from that era.  That particular museum gave you a feel for the time, more than most.  The Ghetto Museum was large rand more modern but not as griping.  That last night in Warsaw, three of us enjoyed a jazz quartet - really great!

Finally was an evening in East Berlin before an early morning flight.  Wandered down to the old Wall and Checkpoint Charlie, neither as authentic as when I last saw them.  A rather rough but safe neighborhood.  Had a good dinner several blocks up the way - would like to return.

One of my interests was the reaction of residents to the tensions with Russia as I had been in the Ukraine rather recently.  The Estonians and Latvians seemed more concerned about their internal Russian speakers, some of whom had power within the existing government.  One guide commented on a ethnic Polish representative  who  identified with Russian policy.  Lithuanians seemed more concerned with possible external moves, feeling quite secure internally and supportive of their Prime Minister. 

Everyone I talked with was apprehensive of any Russian involvement: they had enough of them in the past.  All three cities had KGB Museums of one sort or another, testaments to past Russian  rule.  In Tallinn, it was the bugging system at the main hotel; in Riga a building used by Russians - and Germans - for interrogation and detention, in Vilnuis a combination of KGB with the Genocide Museum and finally, the outstanding Uprising Museum.  Berlin had the Wall.           

As always, as I become familiar with a city and can find my way around, I leave!

Accommodations  All very comfortable and well located -  some better than others.  But mainly 3* and several with superb breakfast buffets. Some computer access.  Ones I would choose to stay in were I traveling independently.  The Tallinn hotel was combined with a gym facility, available to hotel guests.  In Riga, the hotel was part of a good sized office complex and served not only breakfast, but lunch. 

Food:  Cafes were excellent and reasonably priced.  And with atmosphere!  Our tour leader did                 well by us.  

Costs:  Fifteen Day Intrepid Tour, inclusive of breakfasts and homestay meals,  was $2236 which                 included extra hotel night in Helsinki and transfers, including a no show in Berlin. Food and             extras ran about $350.
 
            Airfare:   SFO to Helsinki; Berlin to SFO.  $1655.  And I should comment I was upgraded for             the final leg of the fight from NY to SF.

               Local shuttle from Airport to Home:  $55.

                Sam/house care:  $620.

Next trip:  London and Oxford in September 2014.

               
 

Eight Days in the Uraine: 3-13 July 2014

The original plan had been to go to Russia, but that cancelled.  Political Tours then offered a week-plus  in the Ukraine and I signed on.  There were both internal concerns  which led   to changes in government, and  external conflicts involving  Russia, who had manipulated the separation of Crimea.  Investigating  whys and wherefores  looked interesting, if not from Russia,  then the Ukraine. 

There were six participants:     three  Brits -  a former NY Times correspondent who operated  Political Tours,  a  mental health  expert and sometime consultant to the World Health organization and a  former banker and now researcher in the funding of terrorist/extremist groups - a Belgium international lawyer, a South African doctor affiliated with the tour company,  and me, once active in US criminal justice system  and now a curious traveler.  Our facilitator  was a Russian specializing in the Ukraine who had worked with CNN, BBC, Al Jazeera and researched/wrote Lonely Planet guides to Ukraine and Moscow. 

Impressive travel companions.

Originally, we were to go to Kharkiv and Dnepropetrovsk but as  they were too close to  conflict zones we settled for Kyiv and Odessa.  Coming into Kyiv, I was impressed by the conventional tidiness of an urban middle/eastern European city.  Excepting for tents,  barricades and motley military folk in the Central Square (Maidan), there was little evidence of the recent uprising.  An uprising that certainly left its mark on the country. and led to a change in the government.   The time in Kyiv was divided by four nights i n Odessa, a seaport city normally favored by tourists.  Superficially, Odessa seemed peaceful and  over their upset - crowds in the streets and at the cafes.  Street musicians wailed away.

Both cities were interesting and safe places to wander about -  nineteenth century buildings, well kept.  Cobblestone streets.  Upscale stores. A totally incongruous glass Hyatt Hotel in downtown Kyiv,  totally at odds with surrounding architecture,  which, unfortunately, was not trashed by demonstrators.   Operating tram systems and, in Kyiv, a efficient  subway system.  Museums, opera  and ballet theatres.  We did a lot of walking in both cities and used the Kyiv subway.  Occasionally, a taxi.   

Several months prior to my trip, there had been peaceful demonstrations against the then government's actions vis a vis the West - not signing on with the European Union - and a lurch toward Russia's big tent.  Crimea went to the Russians; agitation in the East led to rebellion there.  The Kyiv demonstration turned violent when the then  government sent in troops, leading to casualties. At which point the then President,  Viktor Yanukovych, found it wise to pack up his mistress and take off. A subsequent election has brought in  a new leader, trying to to put the pieces together.  But there is an endemic problem of corruption - seemingly similar to Afghanistan - which could retard progress as much, if not more so, than the Russian interference. 

We met with at least twenty people, ranging from journalists, activists, politicians, business people, academics, diplomats,to   a grade school principal. and a former collective farm director. A varied bunch. Occasionally, I felt like a college freshman in a Ph.D seminar. 

Kyiv is really a lovely place, with the glorious St Sophia Cathedral complex the center of downtown.  There are also several museums:  we visited the National Art Museum, which had the the loot from Yanukovych's estate - expensive  items he had acquired during his stay(s) in office.  At the end of our tour, we went to Mezhygorye, his  palatial  estate - unbelievable  opulence..  The extensive collection of ill gotten gains:  houses, auto collections, boat - all of which was enjoyed by Ukrainians on a lovely weekend.  And with a collection of  commercial enterprises by the ambitious.

It was enroute to Odessa that we stopped at our driver's village and talked with a locall farmer, who thought  the current President  understood agricultural needs better than past leaders.  The nearby school , wile basic, was being painted and refurbished; the principal commented that parental alcoholism was a sometime problem.

At Odessa, we went out to the underused Port.  Also viewed the office building torched in the uprising.  Normally, opposing sides in Odessa managed to get along, to reach a modis operadi, but everything  got out of control, what with Molotov Cocktails being thrown and thirty dead. 

Then there was the trip to the covered market, most vendors  outgoing  but one who felt her thoughts about Ukraine, the EU and Russians were nobody's business but her own! 

Coming back from Odessa, we stopped at nuclear missile museum with retired Army officers as docents.  Besides seeing all sorts and sizes of missile, into the silo we went.  Three interesting bits:  the docent commented on the similarity between Russian and American  equipment; photos of Hiroshima/Nagaska concluded the museum tour; if Urkraine had kept their nuclear weapons, Russia wouldn't have Crimea.  (Note:  Ukraine gave up their nukes when the UK, the US and Russia agreed to the Ukraine's territorial boundaries!)

While at the museum, I talked with a college Engliish professor from Donets'k region who was on holiday with her husband and son.  She was most concerned about their future, her mother having advised her not to return home.  Later in Kyiv, we listened to a TV reporter review her expperiece as a detainee in Donbass, not a pleasant experience. 

Several  of the individuals I met were memorable:  the Kyiv University professor, a Mowarked asprant  to fighting forces, a former Ministry of Defense guy now an Odessa blogger, an anti Maiden activist with legal ambitions,and  a Maiden leader who wants all public servants to be vetted.  Most memorable besides the English Professor, was a woman working at the Hotel Urkaine who tried to help Maiden participants only to be rebuffed by attackers; she ended up working while   lobby became an ER facility. 

Conclusions:  Urkraine has a hard row to hoe.  It's  a complicated situation with no simple answers: that I learned during my stay there.  Like Afghanistan, there are many young enthusiastic  people willing to work for change, but it is a rough path ahead, what with an entrenched  bureaucracy.  And if that weren't enough to resolve, there are the Russians who do not want too lose influence and keep agitating - successfully?  unsuccessfully? -  where ever possible. 

Food:  Outstanding.  Managed to  sample all kinds of ethnic cuisine. 

Accommodations:  Excellent.  The Kyiv hotel staff were good:  I arrived mid night and theyallowed me to crash on the couch until my room ws ready later in the day, feeding me tea and a sandwich.  A boutique hotel, serving breakfast to order, in the room.  Located in a courtyard, walking distance to most meetings.  The Odessa hotel was also very cozy, with small rooms but a superb breakfast.  Again, well located.

Cost:  Tour:  5551.36 (inclusive of all meals).  Airfare: 2105.70.  Cat care: 380.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival June 2014

This year's Shakespeare Festival actually started the night before when a play originating at the Ashland, Oregon, event  two years ago won Broadway's Tony award.  And with all sorts of plaudits for the play's director - also the Festival's Artistic Director - and the organization itself.  A long way from when I first attended in the fifties, sitting outdoors on plank seats to view performances. 

With that send off, I caught Shawns RideShare at 4:15 AM the next morning for a day long trek through the Bay Area and up into Ashland by 3 PM.  Lots of Bay area pickups and drop offs:  going and coming we crossed all the main bridges.  Fifteen of us plus one dog going  fourteen plus three  dogs coming.  Way to go.

Ashland is that charming mountain town, not only home to the Festival but to a state university.  Absolutely  gorgeous park.  So seems a combination of young folk with retired people, escapees from California, and a few hippy types,  in a well maintained community.  Plus the tourists who show up for the plays - all ages and sizes.  This was a place I've given - and continue to give - serious consideration to  moving since University of Oregon days.

I stayed at  at the Columbia Hotel, upstairs on the main street  in a back room with shared facilities.    Works for me.  A short walk to the theatres on one side and to the library and its computers on the other.

As I arrived on Monday, a dark night for the Shakespeare theatres, I did get a ticket for the Oregon Cabaret Theatre's production of Aint Misbehavin', a Fats Waller based revue.  A fun way to begin the stay. 

The plays were all good, always,  My only objection was the use of audio assists in the outdoor presentations, particularly the Shakeapeare.  Either you have the chops to   carry it off or you don't.  And if you don't, think of another occupation.  The outdoor Shakespeare was Richard III, the story of mendacity incarnate.  The downfall of that villain  of all time, if not in real life, certainly in Shakespeare's drama.  The other Shakespeare was Comedy of Errors, based in 1920s Harlem - well done in the Thomas Theatre. 

The two contemporary presentations were  Lorraine Hansberry's The Sign in Sidney Brusteins Window and  Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods - both excellent.  The Hansberry play I was familiar with but had never seen so it was a new experience. Enjoyed it.

 And I love Sondheim - he hasn't written a bummer that I know of.  This was my third time around with Into the Woods- this  somewhere  between a concert and fully staged version.  Singing and acting conquered the outdoor theatre.   It was a fitting way to end my time in southern Oregon.

Other than play going, I slept, ate, used the library's computer  and wandered about town and park.  Not much of a change  from life in Palo Alto where I do the above plus the minutiae of every day living.  But in a different environment.

Total cost for the excursion was $700, including $160 for transportation and another $150 for cat care.

I will return.