Chasing the Sun

I’ll confess, of the things I looked forward to most about going to South Africa, going on safari did not break the top five. With shark diving, bungee jumping, and meeting some amazing new friends, it seemed an unlikely contender of the most memorable things. And alas, it did not reach number one. No amount of adrenaline could compete with late night drinks and conversation with new friends on the diversely clad streets of Cape Town. It did, however, make a good run for second place. I finally found where they keep the customer service in South Africa-Shamwari Game Reserve. Just off of the N2, you take the red dirt road, R326, to the middle of nowhere. As instructed by the GPS, you turn off of R326 to “road.” Road however, will lead you to an electrifying combination of luxury, customer service, and adventure. (Must remember to locate the “road” in Indiana.) About 1 km down road, I had to yell, “Watch out for that zebra!” Nothing like a few zebra running across the road to foreshadow

Written: 10/24/2011 Being chucked out of an airplane on the coast of Australia was a blast! It was a rush to free fall for a few seconds before ultimately pulling the parachute cord and slowly sailing back to Earth. It paled, however, in comparison to standing on the edge of the Bloukran’s Bridge, looking down a thousand feet, and choosing to take the flying leap in the hopes that the bungee cord would not snap from your ankles and send you plummeting to a rock, tree, and dirt infested death. Free falling and watching the world come into immediate focus in front of me was absolutely exhilarating. Un fortunately, much like sky-diving, it seemed as if it was over before it even began, and I found myself purchasing pictures and a dvd of my jump to serve as proof for my future children when they find it hard to believe that their soccer-hauling, mini-van driving, cookie baking mother would have ever done something so outright daring. After the jump, it was lunch at the local pub where you

Up at seven-thirty to try my first ostrich egg for breakfast. Brace yourself…it tasted like any other egg I have eaten. I suppose that is much better than it tasting awful. Being Sunday, I did not have a chance to browse at any of the shops in Oudtshoorn as they are not open on Sunday. The adventure cave tour started at 9:30 AM. I spent the next hour and a half army crawling through the caves. I am not sure how many inches my waist is, but I can tell you that I had to suck in my waste, my rib cage, and temporarily relocate most of my organs to squeeze through the tight spaces. I actually had to do a head-stand (as instructed by the guide) to get out of one of the tight spaces we shimmied through. All and all it was a success, and I was sprinting (literally) out of the cave by 11 AM in order to make the three hour trip to Tsitsikamma. Tsitsikamma is different from the other places I have visited in South Africa in many ways. For one, it is about fifteen degrees cooler, and for two, ever

My last night before hitting the Garden Route in Cape Town was spent celebrating Oktoberfest at a beer garden on the V&A Waterfront. (Think Rathskeller with a much better view). The place was completely packed and they had a polka band that we all danced to. The food was good, the people were great, and the music was…lively! Wanting to be up by 6 AM to hit the road, I wrapped up the evening pretty early, and made Ina, Corne, Shaun and friends promise to save next Friday night as it will be my last night in Cape Town before heading back to the US. The evening went too fast, as all good evenings tend to do. This morning driving out of the city on the wrong side of the road with a bunch of road-raged South Africans was insanity. It certainly did not help that there were hundreds of tourists on the road that, like myself, have never driven on the ‘wrong side’ of the road, and only needed a passport and valid US drivers license to do so. By some miracle, I made it to Oudtshoorn safely,

Tuesday evening brought about an exotic dinner at Mama Africa, a local restaurant on Long Street that supplies good music, unique menu items, and laughter that ricochets down the tourist clad party street. Under a glass Coca-Cola bottle chandelier I dined on everything from crocodile and kudu, to ostrich and springbok. Verdict: it all tasted like steak minus the crocodile, which tasted like (you guessed it) chicken. Needless to say, if I were locked in a zoo, I would not starve. (Don’t worry, I would save the sharks). For all of my readers, followers, and random people who have stumbled across by blog by mistake, heed my advice. If you are at a point in your life where you do not know what you want to do; if you are simply not good at anything; if you enjoy being proven wrong-meteorology is for you! I wasted 150 credit hours in accounting for the sake of my CPA exam, when I could have been smiling in front of a teleprompter, “Sunny, with a chance of rain and snow today.” If you were

They say the only thing that stays the same is everything changes, but they failed to mention how quickly it changes. My time in Cape Town is flying by, and before I know it I will be flying back home. Thank goodness Mother Nature sees things the way I do, because it was a beautiful 81 degrees yesterday. Unfortunately it did not take much for her to turn on me, as it is now raining buckets and chilly. Yesterday the cable car up to the top of Table Mountain was finally  open! Initially I had planned on going up to the top on my first day, but strong winds and poor weather on the mountain prevented that. Luckily with the nice clear blue skies yesterday, the cars were running full. The taxi driver confirmed what I had suspected about the Dutch and German influence in Cape Town, and pointed out prominent areas and a German school on the way up the mountain. Once to the lower base of the cable car, I jumped in a long line for a ticket up. Fortunately the cable cars hold several passengers

Every time I cross one thing off of my list, I find three more things to add. There is so much to see and do in Cape Town, and I am already dreading having to leave. Maybe work would send me my paycheck in exchange for witty dialog and promotional marketing in my blog? So much happens in such a short amount of time that it is hard to recall everything I mean to say. I think one of the most important things you can do if you are traveling is make sure you explore on your own, if only for a short duration. Yesterday afternoon I went off for a few hours touring more shops and restaurants. The trinkets they sell are again very comparable to anything you would find docked on a cruise ship-wooden figurines, scrap books, plenty of beads, jewelry, sunglasses, purses, and other items likely made in bulk and distributed cheaply. The furniture, however, is unique and if my suitcase would just give a little, I would take back a couch and chair with me. It would be an excellent addition to my moder

The plane landed about an hour ahead of time, ending my airport/plane hibernation. It occurred to me that I have traveled so much, I look at a plane and fall asleep; great for going abroad, but becoming a pilot is probably out of the question. I exchanged money when we landed in Cape Town. The USD to the R/ZAR is about 8 to 1-definitely the best exchange rate I have seen in my traveling. The taxi took about fifteen minutes to get to the hostel, which was exactly enough time for me to interrogate the cab driver. He was extremely nice and spoke about the government, the local castle, and the shanties (slums) that we past on our way into the city (more on this in future posts). The hostel is more than I even hoped for. It's a quaint little place just off of the major night scene street (Long Street). The sidewalks are cobble stone, and there is an Irish pub on the corner. Most of the shops and hostels have bars blocking the entrance, and Forty8 Backpackers, is no different. There i

If life is about the journey and not the destination, I sure get delayed a lot. Indianapolis started the trend with a forty-five minute delay, only for Washington Dulles to follow suit with an hour and a half delay. Nevertheless, I enjoyed every minute of it. I’m here at JFK in New York City, and cannot think of a better place to people watch. From the cantankerous security personnel, to the finely dressed business professionals, you really do see it all at the airport. I like to think of it as an international Wal-Mart (and feel strongly that there should be a website entitled “People of the Airport.”) I see people alone and wonder if they are rushing home to see their long-awaited lover; I see people with hiking packs and wonder where their next adventure is taking them; I see women in high heels and wonder what they were thinking when they decided to wear that on a midnight flight with a twelve hour layover?! And here I am in my yoga pants, old t-shirt, disheveled hair, and without