Posts Tagged ‘Africa’

Thanksgiving on the Shore of Lake Malawi

November 25th, 2007

For a dollar a day, you can feed a starving climber in Africa. Cooking on BiRT is always interesting, not only due to the low food budget (50p a day!), but also in the tools we use – an open fire with huge cookpots and pans. Once, when we had engine trouble, we camped in someone’s back garden and we still roared up a fire for dinner. Needless to say, we tend to get pretty creative with cook duties.

Matt cooking for Hot Rock

Matt demonstrating typical Hot Rock cook duty (Spitzkoppe, Namibia)

Each person is assigned a cook partner on joining the trip, and the two must hit markets and shops together to purchase goods for two days’ worth of breakfasts and dinners with the pittance handed to us by the trip leader. If there are 15 people on the truck, you are given $30 to feed 15 people, for two days. Amazingly, in Africa it is just enough.

Breakfast usually consists of porridge, but occasionally we get the odd treat of eggy bread (French Toast) or pancakes. Each Hot Rocker is responsible for his or her own lunch. Those with higher personal budgets can splurge a bit on lunch food. Dinners vary a bit more, but usually start with a base of pasta, rice, or potatos topped with a tomato-based sauce or a bean/lentil stew of some sort. For a treat, we get either cans of tuna or corned beef chucked in the mix. If people really splurge, adding some of their own money to the cook pot, we get some real meat in the mix – with a veggie portion separated for the non meat-eaters. I never realised how much I like meat.

After months of this kind of food, Thanksgiving was looming on the horizon and I thought, hey, why not embark on a new sort of cooking adventure? I summoned the only other American on BiRT for help and he was all for it. Let’s cook Thanksgiving over an open fire in Africa. We were in Malawi, on the edge of a gigantic freshwater lake of the same name. It was hot.

Lake Malawi

Lake Malawi at sunset

Lake Malawi

Lake Malawi

Getting the right ingredients was the first hurdle to overcome. We sketched out a rough menu and set about seeing what we could find. Pumpkin? Corn? Apples? Turkey? Hah, unlikely! Having some trouble determining what was and was not possible, we decided to hire the services of a local as our “personal shopper” to lend a hand and see what he could find through local contacts. We gave him a huge shopping list, paying for most of it in advance, while also continuing to look ourselves. Of course, he didn’t find much, and we didn’t ask for the money back – he did after all kill and pluck a couple of ducks for us.

There were no apples but there were mangos galore, no corn but maize, no celery but some random vegetable that looked an awful lot like a leafy version of celery and was in fact rather tasty, no turkey but duck and lamb, and finally and most sadly… no pumpkin. Or so we thought.

We had been searching for pumpkin for days to no avail, when Duane noticed there was pumpkin soup on the menu in the bar at our campsite. Apparently it had been around at some point but was now out of season. D’oh! But how could they make the pumpkin soup? We kept asking, but no one answered – most frustratingly, even our hired shopper wouldn’t budge on this one. Finally, I hunted down the man who cooked the soup himself.

“How do you make your pumpkin soup?”

He looked at me, head tilted to the side, and answered “For how many people?”

“No no no, I just want to know how you make it?”

“But for how many people?” Oh, my God.

I had to work to explain to him that I didn’t really want the soup, but the ingredients for his soup. Finally, I managed to buy what was certainly the very last pumpkin in Malawi. :) Pumpkin soup was literally erased from the restaurant menu, and we had ourselves a lovely pumpkin pie.

David chopping, Duane frying

In the heat, David chopping, Duane frying

We chopped and mixed under a thatch roof and cooked over both an open fire outside and in the campground’s wood-fired pizza oven, our only means of baking. We were lucky to have it, or it would have been a stir-fry-only Thanksgiving. I’ll mention again: it was hot. And humid. While the other Hot Rockers splashed around in the lake and played games, holding the first-ever Hot Rock Olympics which included such notable events as a judged dance routine, volleyball, and dwarf tossing, we stirred and fried and baked in the stifling heat.

Steve's Hot Rock Olympics outfit

Steve's Hot Rock Olympics dance-routine outfit

Hot Rock Olympics Dance Routine

A Hot Rock Olympics judged dance routine. From left: Jase, Juliet, Mike, Joe

We woke around 5am to begin cooking and were hovering in and around fire from about 8am until about 6pm, baking pies and roasting meat with no temperature control whatsoever. Somehow, miraculously, it all came together. I dare say it was one of the better Thanksgiving meals I’ve had the pleasure of putting together, although this could have also been due to the impossibility of the task to begin with and the comparison to the meals we’d been having until that point.

Hot Rock Thanksgiving in Malawi

Hot Rock Thanksgiving in Malawi

The spread included: two roast ducks (freshly killed and plucked that day by our hired shopper), a leg of lamb, stuffing, corn pudding (I had miraculously found cans of creamed corn weeks before in a supermarket), salad, mashed potatos, two mango pies, one pumpkin pie, and a flan. We had no measuring utensils and few actual recipes, but it amazingly turned out well! People got so stuffed that some actually passed out at the table; one didn’t even get to dessert having fallen asleep in his chair. The thing I was most worried about was that someone would get sick from either something we made or just having eaten too much rich food and butter, which we weren’t used to. Luckily, none of our “guests” did, but unfortunately one of the cooks (Duane) ended up having a loooong night.

The next morning, we had more pies and pudding for breakfast, the dishes were wiped clean and the legend of Thanksgiving in Malawi was cemented into the history of BiRT.

David eating mango pie for breakfast

David eating mango pie for breakfast

I am definitely going to have to try and make mango pie again someday. It was the bomb.

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Entering Zimbabwe – Victoria Falls and Matopos

October 30th, 2007

After much safari-ing in northern Namibia and Botswana, it was finally time to stock up on food and essentials to last us a month in Zimbabwe and cross the border. We weren’t quite sure what to expect on the other side. We had all heard increasingly desperate accounts of the situation from the news. Would we be safe? Would we see people starving on the side of the road, like you see in adopt-a-child ads? We had no idea what were getting into.

There was a rather heated debate on whether or not we should bring extra food into the country, if it would result in our being mobbed, or if all would be ok – and if so, how to disperse of it in a way that would keep us from being mobbed once word got out that we were giving food away. Additionally, we weren’t equipped for humanitarian work nor would we “solve the greater problem” (i.e. world hunger). While these were fair points, I felt that this was an opportunity to do some good. Even if we were mobbed, it would be better to have some extra food on hand for the attackers than to have to give from our personal stash. I just couldn’t face the idea of coming across someone who was genuinely starving and NOT give them anything at all. Let’s put it this way – if someone were to walk upon an act of harm, such as a rape or mugging, and not do anything about it because “rapes would still happen,” would that make sense?

I decided, what the hell. I’d pick up some extra food, store it in my own personal locker, and “see what happens.” Why not – if we were to be mobbed we’d probably be mobbed anyway. I wasn’t out to save the world or single-handedly solve world hunger, but if I could help one family by giving them a pound of very-hard-to-come-by baby food, I would do it. Why not? I’m here. Might as well do a little bit to help. If everyone had that attitude, the world might be a better place. The silent supporters pitched in with donations on my way to the grocery store, while others were genuinely worried about what I was doing and asked me to never do it within view of the truck. I agreed.

(I should mention that people later changed their minds on this and were all for helping out. Like I said earlier, none of us knew quite what we were getting into, and there was definitely fear in the air. Looking back, I do not blame anyone for their opinions here. It was hard to know what would come of it).

It was thus with a rather solemn mood that we entered the country, although we were definitely excited for the first stop, the famed Victoria Falls. Needless to say, the town was a lot more clean and modern than I think any of us expected.

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

The highlight in Victoria Falls has to be rafting the Zambezi river’s grade 5 rapids. The river is especially fun beacuse it is deep, so even if the raft flips (which it did) you don’t need to worry too much about hitting rocks on the bottom – only the other rafters and their paddles (which is dangerous enough)! To be honest, I was more worried about hitting crocs than anything else. We passed by one right at the start of the trip, and he silently slipped into the water, instantly becoming totally undetectable. If only they blew bubbles. Naturally, I imagined him and his friends swimming alongside our raft for the rest of the excursion.

This was again on my mind when a few of us jumped out of the rafts and took up riverboarding. I was handed a foam body board, the kind you see kids playing with on the beach, and tiny flippers. With this gear we jumped into the frothy, milk-chocolate, croc-infested (ok, they avoid the rapids but still) water and proceeded to go through a series of rapids (including a class five portion) with nothing but the board and a lifejacket to keep us afloat.  Yes, that’s right, boogie boarding the Zambezi! It was awesome!! Now I know what a washing machine feels like. It was absolutely ridiculous, which I think is and will be the theme of this entire trip. The waves seemed 10 times bigger when we were down at their level than when on the raft. It was like going on a slip and slide over mountains, where you hang on for dear life to this laughable little board that could be ripped out of your hands at any second, sending you under water for an unknown amount of time only to pop out like a cork further downstream. You really had to focus on when to breathe and when to hold, and trust that you would eventually pop back up for another desperate breath. Actually, it was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.

Other activities included a horse safari where we walked quite close to water buffalo, all the while our guide was explaining to us that they are one of the most dangerous animals to encounter in Africa (okayyyy, can we move right along then?), bungee jumping off the bridge between Zimbabwe and Zambia, a three hour “sunset” (read: booze) cruise, and a very hippie-esque, touristy drum circle dinner night. We had a great, adrenaline-filled time… but one couldn’t help but think that none of this was the true Zimbabwe. It was the theme park part. Needless to say, while I had a lot of fun, I was glad to get out of the bubble and move to the real interior. In addition, I was finally starting to feel closer to everyone on the truck. They were letting me in, stubborn food ideas and all. ;)

Checking out Vic Falls, Zimbabwe

Andrew and Mike checking out Vic Falls

Bungee Jumping over the Zambezi

Bungee Jumping over the Zambezi (photo taken by Sam)

Horse Safari near Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

Horse Safari, with water buffalo watching us (Photo by Andrew)

The next stop was Matopos, a national park in Zimbabwe, where we did some exploratory climbing. I assisted David in creating a new mixed route called ‘Fart with Confidence.’ I’ll let you use your imagination on how we came up with the name. This was my first experience with new-routing. David-from-Cornwall drilled in the bolts (with a top-rope) and did the first lead ascent. I somehow did the second lead. Now our names will go down in flaming glory for ever as creating the very best climb at Matopos. ;)

David on the first ascent of Fart with Confidence

David on the first ascent of Fart with Confidence (18, Ewbank Rating)

David and Fart with Confidence

David (a.k.a. "Jesus") and our new route

The park was interesting in that you could tell that it was at one time a very luxurious place to stay, and probably an oft-visited national treasure. It is in a beautiful setting with rolling hills and lush vegetation. Today, however, the tourist facilities have the feel of a ghost town – or better said ‘ghost resort.’ There is a dark stagnant puddle in what used to be a decent-sized pool, empty halls with broken windows, deserted cabins, and only infrequent electricity. We pitched our tents among the decrepit cabins and used the good-sized fire pit to cook up our usual meal in Zimbabwe, a  bland-tasting bean-and-lentil-based stew. Hey, at least we are eating, I’m not complaining! We also met a group who had come from Harare to meet and discuss free speech. A secret conference, of course.

Matopos, Zimbabwe

Matopos, Zimbabwe

Squeezing up a crack in Matopos

Squeezing up a crack in Matopos

Huts in Matopos

Huts in Matopos

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Mafia Island, Tanzania

October 10th, 2007

Before joining the dusty Big Red Truck (BiRT) in Namibia, I decided to take a few days to relax on the remote Mafia Island, off the coast of Tanzania just south of Zanzibar. It is situated in a marine park, so the diving is fantastic and there are less tourists than the neighbouring Zanzibar up north. It was just what I needed after a whirlwind final week in the UK trying to get everything ready. Of all things, I forgot to bring sandals. Nice.

View Larger Map

Getting there was quite the adventure. My flight went through Dubai, where I was treated to a 7 hour layover. I highly recommend the ‘Quiet Lounge’ for those of us who aren’t gold-star members in an elite mileage program. Sleep was the mode du jour. Finally, an airport that caters to napping!  The shopping was great as well, of course, it being Dubai. I treated myself to a digital point-and-shoot camera. Overall, one of my favourite airports to date. (For other good sleeping-in-airport information, I recommend The Budget Traveller’s Guide to Sleeping in Airports. A must try!)

My flight from Dar Es Salaam to Mafia Island was a little more adventurous. You know you are out of the usual airport scene when the safety instructions consist of the pilot shouting over his shoulder to tell you where your lifejacket is. Even better, when you get to sit in the co-pilot seat! Now, THAT is an upgrade. We landed on a tiny strip of dirt barely wide enough for a car, after which I was shepherded into a giant jeep which crossed Mafia island. I felt like a superstar – every child who caught site of the car jumped up and down squealing with joy and waving.

A Dhow seen from the plane

An amazing view from the plane. Below is a Dhow.

Mafia Island Runway

That strip of dirt is Mafia Island's runway

Upgraded to Co-Pilot

Upgraded to Co-Pilot on the return flight

There are only a handful of hotels on the island: Pole Pole (about US$200/night and the token “fancy hotel”), Mafia Island Lodge (about US$100/night, but beware there are quite a few add-ons, so ask before agreeing to anything), and Chole Mjini Eco Lodge (on another island just across the bay). The latter consists of tree houses, which sounds like fun, but overall I think I made the right choice. Being alone, it was easier to meet people at Mafia Island Lodge and the owners of Chole didn’t seem so nice, according to other guests.

The lodge is basic and comfortable. I’m not quite sure what the difference is between the ‘superior’ rooms and the ‘standard’ rooms, though. It seems the standard rooms have much better views of the bay, which is what I imagined the superior rooms to have. My ‘superior’ view consisted mainly of trees, but I didn’t mind as I was hardly ever in the room. The showers have pretty low water pressure. When the lodge was full, there was but a trickle coming out of the showerhead at peak shower time. The best part is the staff – they are so incredibly friendly and interact a lot with the guests. I had free Kiswahili lessons during my entire stay.

Mafia Island Lodge

Mafia Island Lodge

Diving: the first day was what I would consider average coral reef diving. The visibility wasn’t spectacular; there was quite a bit of sand floating around. I learned later that this was due to diving during low tide. Day 2 was much better – we went farther out, and during high tide. I do recommend it as a good place to dive, just make sure to get out of the bay itself. I met some other tourists who had been diving off of Pemba Island further north, and they had some amazing photos from underwater. Next time, I’d like to check that out.

The dive crew

The dive crew. I was the only client. :) These guys were a lot of fun!

Fishing boats on Mafia Island

Fishing boats on Mafia Island

All in all it was a very relaxing few days and I’m happy to have had time there before heading out to meet BiRT. I am a believer in soft landings for budget travellers. Organise a nice hotel for the first day or two, and then go for the hostels and budget lodgings. It’s a good way to get your travelling feet under you, to get used to the climate, the lingo, the money, and generally living out of a backpack. In other words, you can relax a little and drift into it.

For the full set of potos, click here.

This article originally appeared on MSN UK Travel.

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Getting ready for the Big Red Truck

September 6th, 2007

I am clean. What can I say? I smell good. I sleep in a comfortable bed with pillows and fresh white sheets, a fluffy duvet, and have a fully equipped bathroom just next to my room. In the morning, after hitting snooze 16 times, I join hordes of commuters on the Tube (pending no strikes of course), pressing into the sardine-like crowd, taking care by all means to not make eye contact with anyone and to apologise if someone steps on my foot. This much I have learned since moving to London

It’s hard to believe, but I only have three more weeks of work before I am off on a ten week climbing adventure in Africa. First stop: Namibia, where bed will mean the floor of my tiny one-person tent with dirty clothes as a pillow. Evening entertainment will consist of gazing at stars (do they really exist?) and waking to something other than a scorpion, I hope. I’ll be joining a giant red Scania truck that has been refitted to equip 20-30 rock climbers, crossing Africa overland in 2008 and the Silk Road in 2009. They probably smell. And so will I.

The Big Red Truck (BiRT)

The Big Red Truck (BiRT)

 

I’m not just giving up my bed and shower, but the comfortable job. I sit at a pleasantly cluttered desk and read email and nod dutifully during meetings. Then there’s the odd pint after work, joining colleagues for a chuckle over emails sent for the day. I can’t complain. I actually like my job for the most part, which is a rare thing these days. And as a bonus, I get paid regularly.

Did I mention I am clean? Smell good, and alll that? Maybe I am too comfortable.

The Hot Rockers have already started the trip and are currently in South Africa. Just thinking about that, that right now there is a group of people in a giant red truck with a bouldering wall hanging off the back and that soon I will be there too, is a bit nuts. It feels so abstract when I’m sitting under fluorescent lighting.

I’ll be part of the crew from Windhoek, Namibia until Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. Countries we will pass through in that time include Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Malawi. This will be my first major undertaking in Africa and I don’t quite know what to expect. Include smelly climbers in the mix and it adds to the… flavour. I only hope this doesn’t become Big Brother on a Big Red Truck.

 A big red truck, fondly known as BiRT. Hey BiRT, I look forward to meeting you.

This article originally appeared on MSN UK Travel. View screenshot here.

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