into the wild

From Izmir (our last stop in Eurasia) to Nairobi (our first stop in Africa) was a long day of travel, via Istanbul by day and through Cairo on an overnight flight.  Forging into Africa was an exciting event in itself, for us.  While waiting in Cairo for our connecting flight to Nairobi, Aman and I sat patiently among our fellow passengers in transit, most of whom were dressed neatly in Islamic clothing.  The gate lounge itself was sterile and not much to look at -- gleaming linoleum floors, rows of hard plastic chairs.  Somewhere nearby, we heard the unmistakable screech of a dot matrix printer, printing up the flight manifest perhaps, it went on for awhile.  After spending months in more industrialized nations and craving some time in a lesser developed region, it was like music to our ears.  We shot each other knowing glances, and could barely suppress our grins.  This was not Kansas anymore.

Our flight landed in Kenya at 3:45 a.m., local time.  We obtained our visas on arrival, retrieved our bags from the luggage carousel on the main floor (while marveling that my visa was officially issued to "Angela P."), and found the driver of our unmarked transport vehicle.  As we drove down the Mombasa Highway from airport to hotel, there were few cars on the road (mostly oversized commercial trucks), no people on the streets (not so advisable to walk around Nairobi at night), and pitch darkness all around (streetlights are a rarity in these parts).  It was interesting to arrive under cover of night and see such a big city, the largest in East Africa with a population of 3 million, so quiet.  We would later discover that, during the days, the streets are crowded with traffic, which is usually at a complete and utter standstill.  Loads of people walk and run along the dusty roads, jumping in and out of matatus (privately owned minibuses, the most common form of local transport in Nairobi), which slow down and sometimes, but not always, stop for passengers.

Downtown Nairobi:

Westlands:

Matatu, with a flat (also not uncommon):

Even though neither of us had traveled to East Africa before, Aman and I did not plan to spend much time in Nairobi.  Rather, like other safari-bound travelers, Aman and I were primarily using Nairobi as a launch pad for our trip to the Maasai Mara.  Nevertheless, we spent our time in Nairobi wisely by getting in touch with people who we either knew or would come to know during the course of our visit.  And, go figure, seeing and meeting friends in Nairobi was one of the unexpected highlights of our time in Africa.

The first person we saw was Koome, a former colleague of Aman's from his JPM days. We met Koome on our first night in town at a spot that had decent ambience, but was kind of slow (the Mercury Lounge).  To give us a better sense of Nairobi nightlife, Koome took us to a more happening place on Electric Avenue in the Westlands neighborhood (Havana Bar).  Unbelievable!  This place was packed with people having a good time, a diverse mix of locals and ex-pats literally spilling into the street, a lanky young kid spinning some great music in the corner of the front bar area.  Foreign in venue, but familiar in feel, it was a lively scene and we enjoyed it immensely.

The next day, Aman and I got together with the family of a friend of a friend, Madhur. Madhur grew up in Nairobi, but works in Brazil with our good friend Brian.  When we told Brian that we would be in Nairobi for a couple of nights, he told Madhur and Madhur, in turn, reached out to his friends and family in Nairobi to see who was around to meet and greet us.  A few emails later and we had plans for afternoon tea with Madhur's father and mum, followed by an informal dinner party hosted by his cousin Nisha.  Wow.  We cannot stress how unbelievably good it felt to be so far away from home and, yet, so warmly welcomed into their homes as though we were family, even though we had never met.  It was wonderful, and we will be forever grateful for the generous hospitality.

On on our third day in Kenya, I jumped out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning, as the moment had arrived and it was time to leave for our safari in the Maasai Mara.  (This was one of our most highly anticipated destinations this year, and we strategically planned our visit to coincide with the great wildebeest migration.)  We showered, packed our bags and head to the hotel restaurant for a quick breakfast.  As I sipped my third (or fourth) coffee and twiddled my zebra-striped napkin ring, I curiously looked around at the dozens of other groups leaving for safari -- a small sea of Westerners clad in khaki and olive green, binoculars and fancy cameras strewn about on most tables.

An hour later, at Wilson Airport, I went to the check-in counter while Aman handled the bags at the security checkpoint.  I handed over our passports to the friendly young woman behind the counter and told her, AirKenya Flight 851.  I was a little perplexed when she asked, in return, where we were going, but I simply said/asked, the Naboisho Camp...?  She punched some computer keys, returned our passports, as well as two baggage claim tickets that said Olkiombo and two green laminated boarding cards, and instructed me that it was "the third stop"...  I walked away wondering if I had heard her correctly, yet knowing that I had.  When I regrouped with Aman, I relayed the woman's instructions:  We need to get off at the third stop.  Aman looked at me with a puzzled look and jokingly asked me,  Third stop?  Are we taking a matatu?  I agreed that I did not fully understand.  That was what I was told, I explained with a shrug.

We waited as the young woman behind the counter called various groups to board the small aircrafts that fly in and out of Wilson Airport.  Passengers holding red boarding passes, passengers holding purple boarding passes.  It was all a very straightforward color-coded process.  Finally, she held up a green boarding pass indicating that it was our time to board and our group was off, across the tarmac and onto a small double-propeller plane.  It was the smallest plane that Aman and I had been on yet.  With no assigned seating system, we grabbed the first two empty seats that we saw.  I proceeded to read the safety instructions to Aman.  In Swahili, of course.

The lone flight attendant made an announcement minutes thereafter, indicating that the plane would make four stops in the Maasai Mara that morning.  Unbeknownst to us, this is apparently the practice -- the local planes essentially make a loop everyday from Wilson Airport to several different landing strips within the Mara and then back to Wilson Airport. (Given that the Maasai Mara National Reserve has an area of 580 square miles and not so many paved roads, we have to admit this makes a good deal of sense.)

For those of you who have never been to the area (or watched as much NatGeo as us), a bit of background:  the Maasai Mara is a vast terrain of open grassland located approximately 270 miles southwest of Nairobi, in the Great Rift Valley.  It sits immediately north of Tanzania's Serengeti National Park.  Bordering to the northeast of the Maasai Mara National Reserve is the Mara Naboisho Conservancy, an area created by the local community of landowners who banded together and decided to lease their land for various commendable reasons (in return, they share the conservancy fees charged to tourists, which provides the local community with a sustainable livelihood).  The Conservancy is where Aman and I where heading for a five-night stay when we left Nairobi on AirKenya Flight 851.

As our plane taxied down the runway and lifted off, we stared out the window at the ground below.  The finer details of the haphazard urban sprawl grew smaller and less discernible as we ascended higher and higher into the air, until finally we broke through the clouds and there was nothing but white.  Disconnected from the scenery below, we fell asleep for a little while.  When we awoke, we were below the clouds again and approaching our first stop -- an open clearing with a strip of red dirt.  There was nothing around except for two other small planes and a handful of safari vehicles.  A shuffling of passengers took place.  Minutes later, we were back in the sky heading for the next strip of red dirt.  Cruising along at a much lower altitude, we could see everything below us, which consisted of a lot of... nothing.  A never-ending expanse of tawny grass, interrupted by occasional clumps of dark green brush or a spattering of acacia trees.  No roads, but the land was criss-crossed with a well-worn, intersecting network of paths made by safari vehicles.  Huge herds of goats and cattle, lazily grazing, dotted the landscape.  Not much movement at all on the ground below until we approached the second landing strip and got a bird's-eye view of our first wildlife: harems of zebra and herds of wildebeest!

When our plane landed at Olkiombo, Aman and I were met by Arthur and Christine, two of the friendly staff from the Naboisho Camp.  Arthur directed us to an olive-green safari vehicle with two open hatches in the roof.  It was one of several that were parked in a line, waiting to drop off or pick up fellow outbound and inbound safari-goers.  We took off down a bumpy dirt road that had tall golden grass growing on either side of us.  Not fifteen minutes later, Arthur made a sharp turn and we were cutting through the grass towards a pride of eight lionesses sleeping in the shade of a scrappy-looking thicket.  A freshly-killed wildebeest carcass was lying nearby.  Amazing.

Back on the bumpy road, we drove for about an hour and a half before reaching Naboisho.  During the ride, we came across zebra (beautiful creatures) and wildebeest (less so), hundreds and hundreds of them.

Elands and giraffes too:

By the time we reached Naboisho, we were in absolute awe of our surroundings.  Oh, and the camp itself?  No less impressive.  The mess hall consisted of a large comfortable living area and a long dining room, built together under a high-pitched, thatched roof. Constructed of wood and decorated in neutral colors, it blended in harmoniously with the natural environment.  Six luxury tents sat in a row along one side of the great hall, two on the other.  Beyond the camp was nothing but open grassland.  It was one of the most remote places we had been.

For our arrival, a delicious lunch had been prepared and set up under a tree in a outdoor clearing adjacent to the mess hall.  We indulged on stewed mutton, fresh salads and warm homemade bread, all in the good company of our incredible hosts, camp managers Roelof and Helen, and several of the camp's other guests.  After lunch, we were given a safety briefing and shown to our tent.  Talk about exceeding all expectations.  I sat and wrote in my journal, as Aman took nap no. 2 for the day.  Except for the chirping of birds and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind, it was completely quiet.  It was perfect.

We spent the rest of our first day on a game drive in the Conservancy with Roelof, Christine and two other guests, Richard and Craig, with whom we shared a vehicle during our stay.  Because the Conservancy limits the number of visitors (to a ratio of one tent per 700 acres), the region is gloriously free of vehicle crowds, which allows for spectacular, unspoiled views of the landscape and its inhabitants.

It was a pretty awesome first day in the wild.

back by popular demand

Okay, okay, okay.  We know, we get it.  It has been over a month since we last updated our happy little blog here, and we can just imagine what you all might be thinking.  Where are those guys?  What have they been doing?  Are they going to share the rest of their stories?  How does it end???  As many of our loyal fans know, Aman and I made it back to New York a little over a month ago after our year-long odyssey around the world came to an inevitable conclusion.  Between reuniting with friends and family for the holidays (awesome), finding an apartment in which to live for the next few months (not so much), looting our storage unit for some essential and immediately needed personal belongings (e.g., warm jackets and suits to wear on job interviews), looking for new jobs, and getting back in the New York Groove, it has been quite the eventful month.  So eventful that we have barely had time to even think about updating the blog with riveting stories about the final months of our incredible year abroad.  Except when someone directly asks us about it, of course...  And then, there was also the other day when I was organizing my "scrap" collection from our trip -- a full drawer, more or less, full of city walking maps, museum floor plans, ticket stubs, half-torn boarding passes, tiny slips of paper from a couple of fortune cookies that we ate in a Peruvian Chinatown restaurant (one of which ironically advised us: ya es tiempo que te tomes tu merecido descanso; translation: it is time that you take your well-deserved break) and the like.  If you are wondering what in hell I intend to do with all of these useless items, well, you just might be Aman.  But, as I have explained to Aman in response to his concerns that I am developing a hoarding disorder, I will think of something and it will be really good.  Back to the point, I was organizing all of these priceless little bits of nostalgia the other day, when I was hit by the inspiration I needed to sit down and finish our story.  Because seriously, the beginning of our trip was amazing and all, but the end was just as incredible.  And we have some good stories left to share.  Stay tuned folks...

izmir interlude

After leaving Cappadocia, the immediate future of our trip was a set of speculative plans to visit Africa.  Do not get us wrong, it was not as though we picked Africa randomly from the where-to-go-next hat.  It could not have been more to the contrary, as everything we had planned up until then (and it was mid-August at the time) had us perfectly positioned to arrive in Africa in time to see 1.5 million wildebeest and herds of other animals reach Kenya's Masai Mara during the Great Migration, one of the most spectacular animal migrations in the world.  It was probably the most highly anticipated stop of this year's journey and, from Turkey, we were monitoring closely the progression of the migration as the animals made their way from Tanzania's Serengeti Plains north to Kenya's Masai Mara National Reserve so we would know exactly where to find them when we arrived.

But, like we said, it was mid-August and we had yet to confirm any plans.  The main reason for this strategic procrastination was my knee.  It had been ten weeks since I had partially ruptured my ACL and been confined to a heavy-duty knee brace.  As we watched my recovery unfold on a day-to-day basis, we were hopeful that I could continue on, but both strongly agreed - if there was any reasonable likelihood that I might need to seek medical attention for my leg in Africa, we would not go.  It was not worth the risk. Fortunately though, my recovery had been going incredibly well.  We decided it was time to put our plan forward in motion.

With our minds made up that we were going to Africa, phase one of our great plan in getting there involved finding a place in Istanbul to get yellow fever vaccinations.  (This was another deal breaker - if we could not get vaccinated, we would not go.)  It took a little research and a lot of patience as we called place to place in search of sarihumma ("yellow fever" in Turkish) vaccinations, but within a day, we had appointments to visit a nearby health clinic run by the Turkish government.  Finding the clinic was no easy task either, but when we finally arrived, we showed our passports and had the vaccinations in minutes.  The best part: the vaccinations were completely free.  Thank you, Turkey.

The only hitch was that the doctor had advised us not to travel to Africa for at least ten days (i.e., the length of time that it takes for the vaccinations to kick in).  Not a problem, we thought.  We could use that time to plan our next steps.  And seriously, we could be stuck in worse places.

We decided to mission plan from the coast since (a) it was way too hot to stay in Istanbul for ten days, (b) we had such a great time on the coast earlier in the month, and (c) there was more area (i.e., the Aegean shore) to explore.  Fortunately, domestic travel within Turkey is very easy and there are a lot of cheap flights leaving from Istanbul every day.  We chose to fly to Izmir, which is the third most populous city in Turkey, the largest metropolis in Turkey's Aegean region and a short one-hour flight from Istanbul.  From Izmir, we had easy access (courtesy of a brand new six-lane highway) to several beach spots on the Aegean coast, including Cesme, a coastal town on the western tip of the Karaburun peninsula surrounded by the Aegean Sea.  This is where Aman and I spent our first four nights back on the coast.  It was a great feeling, as we pulled up to our hotel just in time to see the sun beginning to set behind Chios, the large Greek island off the Turkish coast which Cesme faces.  As night turned dark, we watched the town of Cesme light up and the headlights of traffic as distant cars moved steadily up and down the eastern-facing shore of Chios:

In between planning Africa, our next few afternoons were spent checking out the beaches in neighboring towns.  It was a great way to relax, but also (and more importantly), we reasoned that spending the day in the water was excellent therapy for my leg.  (In addition to the swimming and sheer physical exercise, the locals will tell you that the minerals in the sea water are naturally curative and we liked to think that they were right.  I was healing remarkably well, after all.)

Windsurfing Competition on Alacati Bay:

Fun Beach Club in Altinkum (a.k.a. our favorite of all the Turkish-Aegean coast beaches):

A Day at Ilica:

Another thing that we loved about Cesme was the food (of course!).  Turkish cuisine, in general, is pretty outstanding.  This was something that we had concluded quickly in Istanbul, and our subsequent travels along the coast and in Cappadocia only reaffirmed it.  In Cesme, we continued to dine on some of our favorite staples such as fresh seafood, yogurt, salads and various mezes, but also tried local specialties such as kumru (a warm sandwich made with special sesame seed bread, Turkish sausage, grilled cheese and tomato) and pide (a delicious type of Turkish flatbread pizza).

Chow-time:

Throw in a striking sunset or two (the below, at the marina in Cesme), and there you go. That was how our second trip to the Turquoise Coast essentially unfolded.  Not bad.

We hit the road on day five and drove back to Izmir, which we used as a base camp from which to explore nearby Ephesus, an important ancient Greek (later, Roman) city and one of the most significant archaeological sites in Turkey today.  This place was beyond impressive; it has a history that you can literally feel as you walk through what remains of one of the world's most ancient civilizations - an elaborate library, an enormous theater... connected by avenues lined with temples and terrace houses.  All the ruins were in remarkably good shape, and really amazing.

We skipped the Cave of the Seven Sleepers (for us, the story is too implausible) and the Temple of Artemis (it may be one of the Ancient Seven Wonders of the World, but there is not much left to visit today), before heading back to Izmir.  But, we made a quick stop at the House of the Virgin Mary, a modest stone cottage located on the top of Bulbul Mountain (or Mount Koressos) where many believe that Mary, the mother of Jesus, lived until the end of her earthly life.  Intriguing.

Back in Izmir, we were lucky to meet up in the evening with Mehmet, one of Aman's friend and former business school classmate, who we had briefly seen in Istanbul a week earlier.  He and his wife lovely wife, Ozlem, were in town and wanted to take us to a local restaurant where they insisted, for good reason, that we try cop sis, a traditional dish of small lamb skewers.  Great food, great company.

The rest of our nights Aman and I spent lazily strolling along the area of Kordon, a great waterfront promenade lined with cafes where you can rest for a cup of Turkish tea or a cold beer and play a game of tavla (backgammon) or smoke tobacco from a nargile, which were available just about everywhere.

And, as the nights slowly passed, our time in Turkey calmly came to a close.  We would miss the fancy swimming pool at our hotel and the hours of entertainment it provided (see below), but we were ready to move on and get back to spending time in lesser developed countries.  Africa, we were coming...

cappadocia

The locals will tell you that Cappadocia is a special place for many reasons, not the least of all, because its stark lunar-like landscape was used in the movie Star Wars.  There is even a “Star Wars” lookout point on one of the local roads.  Behold, the view.

Contrary to local lore, however, Star Wars was not filmed in Cappadocia, at least not according to our research (Reportedly, George Lucas inititally wanted to shoot Star Wars Episode I in Cappadocia, but that film was actually shot in the Tunisian desert, among various other places).  Oh well, never mind.  It may not be the original Tatooine, but Cappadocia still has a lot going for it.  And, the fact that it very well could be mistaken for the place where Star Wars was filmed says a lot about its unique topography, the result of ancient volcanic eruptions that occurred millions of years ago.

Cappadocia is a region in central Turkey known for its surreal landscapes, cave-dwellings and churches carved into cliffs, ancient underground cities, and hot air balloons.  Aman and I flew there to spend three nights with good friends Brian and Leslie, having said good-bye to the other half of our Turkey road crew (a.k.a. Lindsay and Jodi) in Antalya earlier in the day.  Our group went the "cave-dweller" route by opting to stay in a tiny, sleepy village called Ortahisar at one of the several "cave hotels" that have become increasingly popular in the area.  It was perfect.  Half of the town of Ortahisar is deserted, so things were peacefully quiet.  One of the only and most distinct noises that we heard was the adhan calling out from the local mosque, which would echo all around us, five times a day.  Here is a view of "Ortahisar Castle" and the village from the outdoor terrace of our hotel where we spent our evenings lounging after long days of exploring the area and hiking.  Surreal, right?

Through our hotel, we arranged for a local guide to show us around during our first day in town.  Fascinating stuff to see in Cappadocia, which made for a very busy day of exploring.  The first stop was in Kaymakli, where we toured one of the underground cities.  Early Christians mainly used these cities as hiding places before Christianity was an accepted religion.  Impressive in size, each city consisted of a vast network of tunnels and multiple levels of rooms for sleeping, cooking, storing food, making wine, etc.  It was an interesting place to walk around and wonder what it might have been like to live there in ancient times (apparently, when claustrophobia was not an issue...).

Then, we stopped briefly in Uçhisar to check out another "castle" and some natural landscapes. 

Uçhisar Castle:

Unique landscapes:

Our guide also took us for a stop by the Goreme Open Air Museum, which was a significant monastic complex from the Byzantine times.  Much like everything else in Cappadocia, this settlement was carved into the soft rock of the cliff walls.  It contains monasteries and several different churches and chapels that, despite some vandalism over the years, still have beautiful frescoes dating from the 9th century to the 11th century.  

Aman, sitting at the head of the table where the monks dined:

There were a lot of monks, and it was a very long table:

After a stop in Avanos for lunch, we continued on to Pasabaglari (Monks' Valley) and Devrent (or Imagination) Valley for rock formations (known as "fairy chimneys") and more natural landscapes.  

Fairy Chimneys:

Camel Rock at Imagination Valley:

The second day in Cappadocia involved an early start for Brian and Leslie, who had signed up for a balloon ride.  Aman and I awoke early that morning to the very distinct sound of hot air balloons hissing overhead as they flew nearby our cave.  Brian and Leslie said that it was amazing.

After breakfast, we piled in the car and drove to the Ihlara Valley for a moderate hike.  There are loads of places with varying degrees of difficulty to go hiking in Cappadocia.  We picked a relatively easy one that we completed in a couple of hours, since it was my first long hike since the bicycle accident in Amsterdam.  Plus, there are good views as you walk the trails along the Ilhara valley floor and, equally as important, a place to rest and enjoy a cold Efes and a savory crepe along the way.   

The crepe lady:

Enjoying a break:

In the afternoon, we continued to drive around and enjoy the passing rural landscapes. The land in Cappadocia is quite fertile, with fields full of potatoes, pumpkins, apricots and sunflowers.  The region is also a big producer of wine.  And the locals raise plenty of livestock here.

On our way back to Ortahisar for the night, we stopped at the Agzikarahan Caravanserai, which is longhand for "caravan palace."  These buildings were important in former times for merchants traveling the Silk Road and in need of accommodations and a place to stable their animals for a few nights.  This particular one was in great condition, especially considering that its construction began in the 13th century.    

Our last day was filled with more hiking (for Aman and Brian, at least; the route was too advanced for my healing knee and, thankfully, Leslie hung back to keep me company), and afterwards, delicious local food.

Brian and Aman, at the summit of a difficult trek:

Best lunch that we had in Cappadocia, at the Center Cafe & Restaurant in Uçhisar:

Bottom line, Cappadocia is not just for Star Wars fans.  The entire region has a charm about it, a simple village way of life, the perfect contrast after a few days in the bustling metropolis of Istanbul or a busy week of exploring the coast.  Great for outdoorsy types who like good hikes in unique places, history buffs, foodies, wine-lovers, cave-dwellers, etc.  Basically, everyone.  One of the more interesting places we have seen this year, we are glad that we did not skip it!