<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707</id><updated>2011-07-29T01:26:45.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Stop: 3 weeks in Colombia</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog used to document my Solo Safari Sabbatical, but now it has morphed into a place to tell stories about my ongoing travel adventures.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-5650617001280124489</id><published>2011-03-03T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T20:07:06.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Breakdown: Tayrona vs. Cocuy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Colombia may only be 1/9&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; the size of the U.S., but man, does this country have a diverse terrain – from the mountainous Andes of Bogota to the ancient walled city of coastal Cartagena to the beautiful Caribbean coast lined with beaches and lush forests to the fake, plastic boobs of Medellin to the many national parks in the Andean highlands. This country allows you to pack-in 4+ different types of vacations in one, not to mention, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it requires you to pack for 4+ different types of climates!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And to further exemplify my point, I have broken down my experience during 3 days in &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;National  Park&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;&lt;/st1:placename&gt; (&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Caribbean&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Coast&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;) vs. 3 days in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;National Park&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; (Andean highlands)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;WEATHER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;Sunny, blue skies  &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;(In a 24 hr period) Crisp air, blue skies, cloudy rain storms &amp;amp; pure, white snow (1&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; snow the area had seen in 20 years!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;TERRAIN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;A National Park with coastal &amp;amp; forest paths, taking you from beach to beach - some crowded with tourists &amp;amp; others, like the nudist beach, sparsely covered with bare butts (including my own)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/b&gt;:     A National Park with multiple mountainous paths, taking you by lakes, through high peaks and passes and along the most spectacular scenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;ALTITUDE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt; Sea Level&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;4000 – 5100 meters above sea level&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;TRANSPORTATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Public local bus / private transport  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;     Colombia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; night bus hell crammed next to a large woman with her 8yr old on her lap, who ended up in my lap on every bump &amp;amp; turn. Meanwhile, the same Colombian songs were BLARING – even at &lt;st1:time minute="00" hour="3" st="on"&gt;3am&lt;/st1:time&gt;   - about jilted lovers and unrequited love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;ACCOMMODATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I stayed in an amazing Cabana nestled on a hill (distanced from the 13 other cabanas) with a view of the beach, my own private hammock area &amp;amp; clear sounds of the waves crashing ashore each night &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/b&gt; Night #1 – a tent with collapsing sides, a broken zipper   &amp;amp; a threshold to withstand the cold of  Los Angeles. Night #2 – After narrowly escaping hypothermia on snowy night #1, we ended up staying in a paper thin-walled cabin where we could see our breath in the air. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;CLOTHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;Bikini &amp;amp; Sarong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/b&gt;Sample evening wear: 3 pairs of socks (including wool), 3 pairs of running pants, 1 running tank top, 1 biking top, 1 hooded thermal, 1 long-sleeve running top, 1 fleece-lined ski jacket, 1 north face jacket, 1 pair of gloves, 1 ski mask, 1 neck warmer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;FOOD                                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt; Fresh Juice. Fresh Food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/b&gt;Packaged camping food, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hot Aguapanela &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; enough snacks to last us a week,   including condensed milk in a tube – absolutely brilliant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EXERCISE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt; Morning beach yoga &amp;amp; occasional dips in the water to   cool off &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;/b&gt;4-6 hr hikes in the altitude, challenging our heart, lungs &amp;amp; mind as every breath felt like it needed 2 to get our necessary oxygen &amp;amp; every step felt like it required the energy of 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;ENTERTAINMENT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt; Read 2 books, journal writing, went to bed at 8:30, woke   up at 5:30 for the sunrise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;Card games &amp;amp; 10yr old summer camp games, i.e. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;never have I ever, I spy, 20 questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;PEOPLE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Tayrona&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt; Talked to no one for 72hrs (except 20 yr old Colombians, Brenda &amp;amp; Jorge, who invited me to their table for lunch &amp;amp; resulted in an English / Spanish conversation class!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Cocuy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/b&gt;Non-stop chatter and laughter with &lt;st1:time hour="4" minute="00" st="on"&gt;4 am&lt;/st1:time&gt;azing women (Tanita, “Cherry”, Diana   &amp;amp; Lacey.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A quick skim through the different variables clearly shows the vastly different experiences i had in each place. To be honest, if you made me choose my favorite, I would not be able to pick one over the other. They were both equally amazing, entertaining and filled with beautiful landscapes. And they were both fabulous ways to start bringing my vacation to an end in Colombia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-5650617001280124489?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/5650617001280124489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/03/breakdown-tayrona-vs-cocuy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/5650617001280124489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/5650617001280124489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/03/breakdown-tayrona-vs-cocuy.html' title='A Breakdown: Tayrona vs. Cocuy'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-651031504566500713</id><published>2011-03-02T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:07:39.608-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5-Day Ciudad Perdida Hike</title><content type='html'>Often when you want to go on an overnight hike in a national park in another country, you need to go with a guide, which often entails hiking with a large group. There are a few factors that can make or break your experience:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) People - You hope your group does not have a whinger, a loud-mouth, a snorer......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Guides - You hope your guide is informative, entertaining, able to accommodate varied paces, organized, a decent cook, attuned to the group's needs....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Nature - You can only hope you don't get pissed on the whole hike. Who likes to go to bed wet, wake up wet and repeat the cycle?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Health - You don't want to be miserable, suffering from a twisted ankle, raw blisters, itchy bug bites, cold/flu, or even worse, food poisoning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a scale of 1-5, I scored a 5 in all the categories above except #4 in my 5-day hike to La Ciudad Perdida (the Lost City). I was at a bit of a disadvantage entering the hike with only having eaten 2 eggs, 2 pieces of cornbread, yogurt and oatmeal with a spoonful of peanut butter in the last 72 hours. And right when I thought I was getting my strength back on Day 1 and I tried to eat normal meals again, Bam, whatever bacteria poisoning I had in Cartagena came back and I spent the evening of Day 2 suffering all over again. At least it was a full moon and there was a bubbling river for ambiance. For the next 72 hours of hiking in the hills, I ate plain rice for lunch and dinner, fake juice and nuts. But despite these minor health setbacks, I slowly but surely, hiked up the mountain in search of La Ciudad Perdida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the other factors, (#3) we nailed the weather. It never rained on us, was sunny, but not too hot, and when it was too hot, we would jump in the natural swimming pools along the walk. (#2) Our guides were a husband/wife duo - Elber and Magali, who were clearly in love, and enjoyed their jobs. They were joined by their well-behaved 8 year old son, who had boundless energy, and Magali's 2 brothers. This family radiated so much positive energy that it was refreshing and contagious. And they were clearly concerned about my well-being, intent on making sure that I was healthy and able to survive the hike. (#1) Finally, the group was an international mix of 13 people, representing Canada, Australia, Ireland, England, Colombia and Italy. The best part about these trips is the natural progression of complete strangers getting to know each other - starting off with the typical backpacker conversations of where one has traveled and where the next adventure is and then slowly transitioning into more personal conversations, learning about their culture, perspective on life, their significant others, children, divorces, aspirations, etc. It's impossible to walk away from trips like these without learning another way to look at life or to see other paths taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with all that said, yes, we found La Ciudad Perdida. After climbing 1000+ steps, the forest opens and there are flat, green, circular terraced platforms made by stone walls where the ancient ruins used to stand. Was it thoroughly preserved and restored like Machu Picchu? No. Were the ruins grandiose, tall structures like Tikal in Guatemala? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as I was sitting in the middle of a green circle, staring out at the blue sky and the forest and mountains around me, it was clear to me that it was more than the ruins that made this Trek worthwhile. Really, it was all about the experience from the combined 4 factors above that made the clearing in the middle of the forest to La Ciudad Perdida an unforgettable trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: 3 days in Tayrona National Park / Beach (sea level) and 3 Day hike in Cocuy National Park (4000+ meters)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-651031504566500713?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/651031504566500713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/03/5-day-ciudad-perdida-hike.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/651031504566500713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/651031504566500713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/03/5-day-ciudad-perdida-hike.html' title='5-Day Ciudad Perdida Hike'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-7683515273608978156</id><published>2011-02-21T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T14:16:54.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exorcism in Cartagena</title><content type='html'>I´ve decided one of the worst feelings is waiting in line in the airport checkìn with a big backpack on your back, feeling nauseous and on the verge of vomiting, while being surrounded by people whose 1st language is your barely spoken 2nd language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew i was physically struggling when I no longer could stand and the woman next to me asked ´sientes bien´as i was kneeling on the ground with my pack hanging over my head. ´Es la altura´, she said, and she helped me take off my pack. Does altitude sickness kick in 3 days retroactively? Can you get altitude sickness from 2600+ meters (Bogota)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I knew I needed to do whatever i could to focus on remaining in line without spewing on the woman next to me. As they expedited all travelers to Cartagena to the front, I said ´obrigada´ to the woman who helped me put my pack back on - a clear sign that i was fading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in line must have been grateful that the pale-green faced gringa disappeared. And I was grateful to escape the queue, checkin, and beeline to the bathroom where I perfectly projectile vomited into the toilet right as I swung open the bathroom door. I did not have time to commend myself on my impeccable timing and aim because it was immediately followed by 4 more rounds of hugging the toilet. Thus, beginning the exorcism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to sleep the whole flight to Cartagena where I was greeted by Lacey´s friend, Tanita, at the airport. She drove me to her house and introduced me to her mom. i managed to mumble ´me llamo jeanne. much gusto. where´s the bathroom?´ and i charged to the bathroom, making myself at home as i hugged another toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 1st day in Cartagena consisted of puking, sleeping, postulating theories for why i was puking, puking some more, debating whether to go to the emergency room and brainstorming anti-vomiting remedies with Tanita and her mom. Tanita´s mom was full of ideas  - from coffee to raise the blood pressure, to lemon to cure the nausea to nutmeg for relaxation to coco cola for the classic cure for calming the stomach. I ended my night on Feb 14, 2011 with a grand finale puke. There´s something rather poetic about letting go and expunging everything from the inside out on Valentine´s Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there clearly are many cons to this whole puking business, on the plus side, it allowed me to get to know Tanita and her mom more. I heard stories of all sorts - such as her 92 year old grandfaher who was kidnapped in Cartagena and released after 6 months, the adventures of Tanita´s mom living in Indonesia, Korea and Thailand, how pretty much anything someone wants to do is possible in Cartagena and about everything ´Macondo´ in Colombia. I also was able to do a night tour in the car and see where Tanita´s dad lived as a kid, where Tanita partied as a teenager and went to school, the walls surrounding the city and a man randomly getting a haircut by another man on the corner of an empty street dimly lit by a street light. The next day, i managed to walk around the old city with Tanita as she gave me the local perspective and told me stories about witch hunts and where people used to denounce their neighbors, how the devil collapsed the walls and twisted the tower of a very old church and streets where spirits remain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am telling you, if you have to go through an ´exorcism´ experience like i went through, come to Cartagena, it only seems like the fitting place for it to happen. Plus, being regailed with non-stop stories almost makes the whole puking experience enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: 5 day hike to La Ciudad Perdida (the Lost City)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-7683515273608978156?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/7683515273608978156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/02/exorcism-in-cartagena.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7683515273608978156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7683515273608978156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/02/exorcism-in-cartagena.html' title='Exorcism in Cartagena'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-8861840049125349133</id><published>2011-02-13T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T12:00:29.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bogota: Less than 10 hours of sleep in less than 48 hours</title><content type='html'>I am in Bogota, which is the start of my 3 week adventure in Colobmia. The capital of Bogota is much more cosmopolitan than i expected. Of course, there´s nothing like seeing a city than from the eyes of a local. L.R. who moved here in September has shown me around her favorite spots, allowing me to see places and meet locals that I would have never come across if I was staying at a hostel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been in Bogota for less than 48 hours and I have slept less than 10 of those hours. I started off my Colombian experience going to a house party at midnight. Many people at the party went to the American school, so I was surprised how much English was spoken. I did tap into my rusty Spanish with the taxi driver, Nelson, who drove me from the airport to Lacey´s house. Nelson, who barely reached 5 foot, kindly offered to be my local guide for the weekend since I did not have an esposo or novio, but I politely declined and went with the nearly six foot blonde local tour guide. Lacey´s Spanish rocks and she has built such an amazing network of friends, who are completely awesome and have taken me in. I wish I had more time to meet them all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday day consisted of waking up to a view of the beautiful Andes mountains from Lacey´s apartment, aimless wandering through the old streets in La Candaleria - the historic part of Bogota -eating tamales and hot chocolate, meeting Lacey´s friend Cherry at Bogota´s version of Central park, riding buses and taxis through the largely spread out city and having my first Colombian mall experience, which seemed like the hot weekend hangout spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, Lacey and I prepared ourselves with an hour power nap and 2 Red Bulls and got a driver to take us to a restaurant-bar-bailadero, Andres Crnen de Res, which is an hour drive from Bogota. People normally go with groups and make it an event of over-priced food and drinks and late night dancing. Lacey and I brought back our college days and hid a bottle of vodka in a water bottle and spiked our fresh juices at the bar as people slowly finished their 10pm dinners and made their way to the dancefloor. Let´s just say by the end of the night, Lacey and I had made friends, were dancing in the aisles, and were drinking Aguardiente straight from the bottle - Colombian style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cured our hangover with Colombia brunch - you have to love a country that includes fresh squeezed juice and hot chocolate with their brunch. We then walked off this pile of food - bajamos el desayuno- along the main road that they close off on Sundays to bikers, runners and hung-over walkers, like ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Cartagena! I will be staying with Lacey´s friend Tanita who I took out when she visited New York and she stayed out in the bars later than me. This could be trouble - although it will be a Monday and Tuesday night, so we shall see.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-8861840049125349133?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/8861840049125349133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/02/bogota-less-than-10-hours-of-sleep-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/8861840049125349133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/8861840049125349133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2011/02/bogota-less-than-10-hours-of-sleep-in.html' title='Bogota: Less than 10 hours of sleep in less than 48 hours'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-4280649747860463025</id><published>2009-11-21T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T18:45:11.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 &amp; 4: Tikal - Ancient Maya City</title><content type='html'>I took a shuttle from Belize across the border to Guatemala to visit the Maya Ruins of Tikal. Possibly, my favorite part of this trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked through a rainforest and then voila, I entered a clearing with ancient ruins surrounded by the remains of temples that tower over 70 metres (230 ft) high. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were 2 memorable parts of this visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Sunset in Tikal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up the tallest (70 metres) temple, Temple IV, with another traveller I met in Belize. At the top of the temple steps, you have a view of the endless rainforest below. It was nearing sunset and the park was closing, but 20 Quetzals to the guard bought us more time and he let us stay to watch the sunset. It was pitch black as we descended the temple and luckily the guard escorted us out of the park or else we would have likely got lost in the forest and would have had to sleep on an ancient sacrificial stone slab - an adventurous idea, but it was super cold out and my bed sounded less eerie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Sunrise in Tikal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later, we woke up at 3:45 am and went with a guide, who paid off the guards at the park entrance to let us into the park early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We returned to Temple IV where we sat above the expansive forest floor and underneath a clear sky with shooting stars. It was so serene and unforgettable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the light started to creep in and all of a sudden a spooky howling sound began to permeate through the forest. It was the Howler monkeys waking up the rainforest animal kingdom. They literally `howled` for 20 to 30 minutes until the sun rose like an orange egg through the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Morning sun!&lt;br /&gt;Good Bye moon!&lt;br /&gt;Hello ancient maya temples poking through the trees!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Antigua and a hike of an active volcano&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-4280649747860463025?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/4280649747860463025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-3-4-tikal-ancient-maya-city.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4280649747860463025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4280649747860463025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-3-4-tikal-ancient-maya-city.html' title='Day 3 &amp; 4: Tikal - Ancient Maya City'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-4424909775088060278</id><published>2009-11-21T05:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T05:53:37.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belize - Cave Hike and the Townies</title><content type='html'>This will be a boring post for some of you. I went on a cave hike - completed it with no broken bones or dislocated joints. My bag arrived - no more white velor shorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cave itself was pretty cool. I have explored a cave in Batad, Philippines but this cave was bigger and with Belize regulations - or the lack there of - ancient ruins have not been removed and are scattered throughout the cave. The Mayans performed rituals in this cave and there are remnants of ceramic pottery and even skulls and bones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had to swim into the cave and at some points the water was chest-deep. My outfit worked out well and I blended right in because a plastic surgeon from Vegas was in my group and she actually chose to wear white daisy dukes and a white tank top. Oh, Americans....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, tourists and locals convened in the town bar. Everyone spoke perfect English - so much for practicing my Spanish. To name a few of the local characters -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Local Prostitute&lt;/span&gt;- she manned the jukebox and i quickly learned not to invade her territory and let her pick the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;20yr old Bartende&lt;/span&gt;r - She sat on the other side of the bar more than she served drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sleazy Tour Operator Owne&lt;/span&gt;r - He, like most people in town, bad-mouthed other local business owners. They all seemed to talk shit about each other behind everyone´s backs but then be chummy pals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Town Drunk&lt;/span&gt; - He kept coming over and repeating the same incoherent slurs, but my favorite was that he´s "still waiting for Bob Marley to come to Belize."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dart Champion&lt;/span&gt; - My favorite town local. He was the #1 Belize national champion dart thrower. Currently, he´s dropped to #20 because he has gotten too in his head and he has tennis elbow from 9 hours of daily practice, so he´s off his game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that´s what I call a night out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Stop- Tikal, Guatemala&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-4424909775088060278?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/4424909775088060278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/11/belize-cave-hike-and-townies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4424909775088060278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4424909775088060278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/11/belize-cave-hike-and-townies.html' title='Belize - Cave Hike and the Townies'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-364653550372002945</id><published>2009-11-17T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T16:54:21.744-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiss Me I'm in Belize!</title><content type='html'>Monday - 11/16&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a 4am pick-up from SuperShuttle, a myriad of schedule change issues upon arriving to Newark airport (I'll spare you the details), and 12 hours of traveling including layovers, I arrive to Belize...without my bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was set to do an early morning cave hike, so the tour company suggested i buy shorts and a shirt in town. Along the quarter mile strip, I had an option of 6 tienda type shops - all selling similar items - short jean skirts adorned with crystals, hoochie pastel and plaid 'fashion' shorts, lycra tops, etc. I should also point out that every pair of shorts they offered for me to try looked like they would fit only one of my ass cheeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a somewhat reasonable looking pair of spandex pants until I discovered a dead cockroach smashed inside the pant leg - lovely. SO, I settled on a hot pink tank top with 3 figures doing what resembled yoga poses and a pair of white velor shorts embossed with a stunning gold design that says: "Kiss Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my bag does not arrive tomorrow, I'm curious how I will blend in with the locals and avoid unwanted attention while sporting my new Belizian fashion...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-364653550372002945?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/364653550372002945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/11/kiss-me-im-in-belize.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/364653550372002945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/364653550372002945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/11/kiss-me-im-in-belize.html' title='Kiss Me I&apos;m in Belize!'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-8788487079090237134</id><published>2009-04-13T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T18:24:14.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Blog Post:: Links to my Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hi all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am back from an amazing 7 week adventure in Africa and a relaxing 2 weeks in Thailand. Thanks to all of you who virtually shared my experiences with me! Your emails and comments made me feel like I was not traveling alone (once Sharon my fabulous travel companion left after 3 weeks). &lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And all of you fantastic people that I met along the way, you ABSOLUTELY made my experience and added to my adventures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Calibri;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I took A LOT of pics, but I tried to narrow down the selection and organized my shots in a way that hopefully would capture your interest. I organized each segment of my trip into its own online album. I then took my favorite shots from each segment and put them into a ‘Favorites Africa’ album. So, you can take a look at the favorites and if you are yearning for more, you can choose the individual albums for further viewing pleasure :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/AfricaFavorites?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Africa Favorites&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/KenyaJan30ToFeb3?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Kenya&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/TanzaniaFeb3ToFeb20?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Tanzania &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/ButtsOfTheBeast?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Butts of the Beast &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/UgandaAndRwandaFeb21ToMarch2?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Uganda/Rwanda&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/ZambiaToSouthAfricaMarch3ToMarch9?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Zambia to South Africa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/TheCapeAndCapetownMarch10ToMarch17?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;The Cape and Capetown&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jeannew/Thailand2009?feat=directlink" target="_blank"&gt;Thailand&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;Enjoy!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-8788487079090237134?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/8788487079090237134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/04/final-blog-post-links-to-my-pictures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/8788487079090237134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/8788487079090237134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/04/final-blog-post-links-to-my-pictures.html' title='Final Blog Post:: Links to my Pictures'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-7617522157812782383</id><published>2009-03-17T06:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T07:08:56.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Table Mountain and Table-Top Dancing</title><content type='html'>I met a German guy travelling with his dad and brother who offered me a ride to Table Mountain. The one son, who stayed behind with his dad, suggested that I hike a 'different and more fun' route with his brother. The words 'different and more fun' instantly appealed to me, but really they should have been a big neon sign that said 'bad idea.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set off for the 'different' route that zig-zagged up and across Table Mountain from the backside. Everything was going great until the trail dead-ended right at a big rock/boulder. Turning around and going back down the steep rocky mountain was not an ideal option, nor was climbing rocks with my shoulder but this option seemed more likely to get us to our end destination...SO, after some exploration, we found that we could climb up and over this rock and get to something that seemed like a trail. Throughout our ascent, we had several moments of disappearing paths, and 3 big rocks/boulders to climb and one rock boulder that I had to have the guy pull me up and over (a bit reminiscent of Mt Kili!). As the mountain got progressively steeper, so much that I was too nervous to look down below me, I silently cursed myself, wondering why I can't do anything the 'normal' way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is that we finally joined a real path. The bad news is that we ran into 2 South African guys who said that in all of the mist and rain, we missed the connecting path to the 'normal' route to the Table Mountain viewpoint and if we continue in the direction we were going in, we would hike for 5-6 more hours and reach a dead-end. And if we turned around and tried to find the path connecting to the 'normal' route, we would probably get lost in all of the mist again and end up camping on the mountain. (Oh, and we also apparently missed the wooden sign in the bushes that said: 'Dangerous - Do not go on this trail.')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....I chose Option C) hike down the mountain with these 2 South African guys and then get a ride back with them to the main trail head and go home. I made it back safe and sound. I just did not get to the Table Mountain viewpoint where the cable cars (and normal tourists) go... :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no time to lament, on to an evening of dancing. We did dance the night away, but don't worry, there were no table tops involved....Despite the stories that Patty had told the guys. Patty, you got the part right about me being a dancing queen, but me dancing on bars and table tops, really? Ok, so I did do that when I was 22 in Australia (and I should add that I won a 3-day island excursion off of the East Coast in Oz for my fabulous dance moves) BUT those days are over. I am so much more refined now in my 'old' age, dancing ON the dance floor...until the club closes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is exactly how I left South Africa - a mini pub crawl with Dumi, Kieran and Stu and then we danced at the Mercury Lounge with all the 18 year olds in Capetown who were out for a big Monday night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumi, Kieran and Stu, you questioned my tolerance and whether I liked to dance - Well, I believe that question has been answered :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND after my 4:30am arrival home, I did manage to wake up at 7 to take the Cable Car to the Top of Table Mountain, so I could actually step foot on the 'table' (flat-part/viewpoint) of Table Mountain where the normal tourists go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that....my adventures in Africa have sadly come to an end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-7617522157812782383?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/7617522157812782383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/table-mountain-and-table-top-dancing_17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7617522157812782383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7617522157812782383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/table-mountain-and-table-top-dancing_17.html' title='Table Mountain and Table-Top Dancing'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-4336702445141348077</id><published>2009-03-17T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T03:21:22.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Skirts - Tight Pants</title><content type='html'>While I do have a dirty skirt in my bag - it was once gray and now it is borderlining a light brown color...soon to be viewed in almost every photo of me in Africa - this is not what my blog title is referring to. On Sunday night, I went to see an Indie rock South African band called the Dirty Skirts at this killer outdoor venue in Capetown (Kirstenbosch Gardens). Everyone sits on the grass and there are stunning views of mountains and Capetown around the stage. Plus, you can bring in all the food and alcohol that you want and there are no long queues to security check your bags like in the States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My good friend P.B. (Patty Buckley) put me in contact with friends that she met when she was working in Capetown - Stuart, Dumi and Kieran. I had the pleasure of their fabulous company and only had to endure an American joke here and there...and some poking of fun of my one-armed shoulder concert dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the band's music at: &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Dirty-Skirts/6602185813"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Dirty-Skirts/6602185813&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lead singer of the Dirty Skirts quite possibly wore the tightest pants I have seen on a man. Looks like Indie rock fashion is universal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Hiking Table Mountain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-4336702445141348077?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/4336702445141348077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/dirty-skirts-tight-pants.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4336702445141348077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4336702445141348077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/dirty-skirts-tight-pants.html' title='Dirty Skirts - Tight Pants'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-2713668623509241817</id><published>2009-03-15T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T23:39:10.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping Left...While Stopping Off at a Winery or Two</title><content type='html'>There is something very freeing about hopping in a car with no specific plans and just driving. I managed to stay on the left side of the road and I circumvented the round-abouts with ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Moment to pause as I am patting myself on the back)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped off at places from locals' suggestions. I ended at a lodge called Tranquility Lodge in Nature's Valley and decided to stay for 2 nights there because it was pure relaxation...and stunning. AND there was a gourmet chef at the Guesthouse and I can't pass up on phenomenal food! Each night consisted of walking along the beach, starry sky, but not too starry because it was a Full Moon - again Stunning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then drove a scenic route to wine country - 10 hours. &lt;em&gt;(Thank You Apple for the iPod.)&lt;/em&gt; I stopped off at a Port winery and did some port tasting. I then realized that port makes me sleepy. So, I stopped off for a coffee. And you all know how I don't drink caffeine, so that wired me to drive all the way into wine country where I stopped off at 4 wineries and did some 'mild' wine tasting before I ended up at a quaint guesthouse surrounded by mountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: the grand master plan was to do a half day wine tasting and then drive into Capetown. After testing out my swirling technique with my red glass of wine and having that glass end up on my only clean shirt, I realized that I should spend another night in wine country and forego the drive back to Capetown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So naturally, I extended my wine tour to a full day...and drank more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh, the life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-2713668623509241817?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/2713668623509241817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/keeping-leftwhile-stopping-off-at.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/2713668623509241817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/2713668623509241817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/keeping-leftwhile-stopping-off-at.html' title='Keeping Left...While Stopping Off at a Winery or Two'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-7935448042368829932</id><published>2009-03-12T03:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T03:43:18.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking the Plunge: 216 Meter (709 feet) Bungee Jump</title><content type='html'>I arrived into Capetown airport with no plans/reservations. I finally found a car rental place that would rent me an automatic car AND i managed to talk the guy down on the price, paying the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;same&lt;/span&gt; amount I would have paid for a week bus pass. It's amazing how a little smile can go a long way! :) I drove straight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;out of&lt;/span&gt; Capetown. Destination: One of the World's Highest Bungee jumps. A pure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;freefall&lt;/span&gt; swinging bungee from a single cord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not going to ask for bets from you on whether I did the jump because I know you would probably think the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why wouldn't she? She has already jumped off a bridge in New Zealand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why wouldn't she? This jump is even higher at 216 meters (709 feet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why wouldn't she? the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; bounced after she jumps will take her as high as the Vic Falls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why wouldn't she? It's been close to a month since she dislocated her shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why wouldn't she? It's Jeanne, and we all know that she's crazy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys know me so well! Of course, I did it and I am STILL on a high! They literally duct-taped my arm to my body to make sure I would not dislocate my shoulder again. I turned off my brain and jumped! My thought process went a bit like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Holy Shit, I jumped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Of F*ck, I am falling fast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Crap, my face feels like it is flattening&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Is this painful?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Am I having fun?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Shit, that's the ground coming at me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Wow, I am being pulled back up again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Is my shoulder still intact?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Oh F*ck, i am falling back down again and i think i am spinning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Shit Yeah, i think i am having fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Oh my god, look at that view&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;* Oh no, is it done already?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that, i got pulled back up toward the bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other great accomplishment on that bridge was that there was a girl who was 80% convinced of jumping and was about to say no. I walked over to her and asked what her concerns were. I helped her breakdown her worries. I gave her some words of encouragement and told some motivational stories and she ended up doing it! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ANd&lt;/span&gt; she survived AND she liked it! I may have my new profession: Motivational Bungee Jump Coach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Hiking in that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tsitsikamma&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;Mountains&lt;/em&gt; in Nature's Valley on the Garden Route&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-7935448042368829932?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/7935448042368829932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/taking-plunge-216-meter-709-feet-bungee.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7935448042368829932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7935448042368829932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/taking-plunge-216-meter-709-feet-bungee.html' title='Taking the Plunge: 216 Meter (709 feet) Bungee Jump'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-2842291114377209302</id><published>2009-03-11T01:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T01:53:11.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to a South African Health Clinic: Malaria or Malaria-Free?</title><content type='html'>So, I was planning on a different post. It was supposed to talk about .....(Is this deja vu from Feb 1?) my trip to Zambia (which I am going to tell you about anyway...malaria story to be continued).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I was supposed to talk about how I got pissed and pissed on at the Vic Falls (that's drunk and rained on for my American counterparts). I did a sunset cruise of the Zambezi river with an Irish guy, Steve, and 3 English couples - a great crew really. It turned not only into a sunset cruise, but a booze cruise as John, the boat captain, kept pouring me glass upon glass of free wine. After the trip, we slightly stumbled out of the boat and got into the van with the driver, Franco. When Steve and I were the only remaining ones to be dropped off at our hotel, I asked Franco, 'What do locals in Livingstone, Zambia do on a Monday night?' Without hesitation, he said: 'drink.' So, I naturally said, 'Well, why don't we take a detour and go to the local bar and we will buy you a drink.' I was speaking for Steve, but luckily, he was a good sport and went along with my plan! The dive bar had a pool table and we took on some locals in a few games of pool. I think I made 1 shot during all of the games, BUT i sure did make a lot of friends. I was such the social butterfly that the next day when I got a drive to the Vic Falls, I was chatting with the driver telling him how I checked out his local bar last night, and he responded: 'I know I was at the bar playing pool with you.'........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vic Falls. One Word: Stunning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are almost a mile long and the spray was so massive that it felt like it was raining, more like pouring, on us. I was absolutely drenched. I don't think pictures will do the Falls justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also planned on sharing about my drive from Zambia to Jo'burg via Botswana with the guys (Willie tour leader from SA, Chris tour leader from Zimbabwe, Steve from Scotland, Glenn from NZ) - a fun group of guys. I introduced them to S'mores, but they preferred their beers and ciggies. They really don't know what they missed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok, I guess i should get to the story behind the title of my blog.......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long Story Short: I was puking like the exorcist, showing signs of malaria - puke, fever, body ache, headache, exhausted. I was told that I looked like death. We were in Kruger National Park where the gates closed at 6pm and there was no doctor in the gates. So, I had to pull through the night, listening to music, chatting with Willie and staring at the ceiling of my tent. Don't worry though...there is a happy ending to this story :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a doctor at a private health clinic. (I am apparently doing a tour of the African healthcare system). Doc confirmed that I was malaria-free and that I got some sort of African virus. Best news I have ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They then took me to a 5-star lodge and I just slept...and slept...and slept. Now it's March 9th and I am starting to feel human again! And according to the guys - looking a lot more human and pleasant than before the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;UAV: Unidentified African Virus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I always say that you should try everything at least once.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puking my brains out from UAV: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Stop: Capetown - maybe renting a car and driving up the cape....maybe a bungee jump?....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-2842291114377209302?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/2842291114377209302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/trip-to-south-african-health-clinic.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/2842291114377209302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/2842291114377209302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/trip-to-south-african-health-clinic.html' title='Trip to a South African Health Clinic: Malaria or Malaria-Free?'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-7203532230298731443</id><published>2009-03-04T04:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T04:51:18.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uganda Highlights</title><content type='html'>I had a week in Uganda.  A large portion of my trip was on the road, but I would stare out my window for hours and still be entertained. Some highlights during my stay in the "pearl of Africa" were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Street View&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- men biking with bananas or mataoke strapped to the sides of the bike&lt;br /&gt;- women walking while balancing bananas, sacks or other miscellaneous items on their heads&lt;br /&gt;- children playing with sticks and tires on the street&lt;br /&gt;- my favorite: children running and smiling and waving as we drove by. It warmed my heart and made me smile and wave enthusiastically back each time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chimp Tracking&lt;br /&gt;- I saw chimps at Kabale forest. They were so high up in the trees, they looked like piles of leaves in my pictures. I knew they were not leaves because every once in awhile they would throw a fig down at us or one of them would start peeing. Right when we were about to leave, the Head chimp decided to come down and then 8 or 9 others followed and then we followed them to into the forest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;River Rafting on the Nile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not sure if this was the smartest idea and I knew that if I got hurt I would have absolutely no sympathy from my friends or family. But  I can't pass up on an opportunity like this :) and my shoulder is SO much better! The Nile was amazing. It was peaceful and beautiful and then there would be a huge rapid. I flipped out once and grabbed for my shoulder for dear life. All was ok. On the grade 5, 13.5 foot drop, I sucked up my pride and road in the safety boat. I did not need to dislocate my shoulder again. Still, it was loads of fun. After the raftintg, I drank a Nile beer on the Nile. Had to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drinking with Locals in Uganda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the drive back to Kampala from River Rafting, there were 4 people from Kampala on the bus. I could tell instantly that they were loads of fun so I sat near them..and we drank 1 Nile, 2 Niles, 3 Niles...and were a bit Tipsy by the time we reached the city. I was staying outside of the center because I was flying out at 7am then next morning. I could go home and stay at the crappy hotel by myself...OR, I could take a taxi back into town and stay out all night with Brenda and Moses. Obviously, there is no question what I chose to do. We went to a local Rugby bar and then an African Dance club. I made it home in time to get an hours nap in before I had to wake up for my plane. Now, that is leaving Uganda in style...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Zambia to see the Victoria Falls..Then Botswana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-7203532230298731443?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/7203532230298731443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/uganda-highlights.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7203532230298731443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7203532230298731443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/uganda-highlights.html' title='Uganda Highlights'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-6647904229883547355</id><published>2009-03-01T04:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T05:55:53.507-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Sharon, my Sherpa</title><content type='html'>Written on Feb. 24&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my cousin, Sharon, departed after 23 days together. I'm sad to see her go and my 6hr ride to Uganda was very dull without her. So, I entertained myself by writing a poem in her honor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I am not a poet. I'm merely a girl with too much time on my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Jocelyn and others, I'm sure you will have a little chuckle out of my attempt to rhyme, but at least I kept my verses consistent with 15-count time :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ode to Sharon, my Sherpa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tied my shoes, even when I had to pee late in the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You even shaved my armpits, somehow that just doesn't seem right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never once audibly complained, self-pitied, moaned or whined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even as you were puking up butter soup, while we dined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were my stylist, braiding my hair each day without a curse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But later a mirror revealed, keep your day job as a nurse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You joined my V-day game, singing tunes with 'love' words in the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2-plus hours later I can't believe you played with me that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You shared in my excitement, each day I could move my arm more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you a good actor? Cuz to me that would have been a bore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were patient and fun, always laughing and sharing with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What more to ask in a travel mate, how lucky could I be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We vowed we would never again hike in altitude that high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I heard there's an Argentina hike, higher in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Sharon, my great Sherpa, what do you think of this new plan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time, I'll be your devoted Sherpa and number one fan!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-6647904229883547355?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/6647904229883547355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/ode-to-sharon-my-sherpa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/6647904229883547355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/6647904229883547355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/03/ode-to-sharon-my-sherpa.html' title='Ode to Sharon, my Sherpa'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-7167961826706565804</id><published>2009-02-27T05:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T05:59:09.371-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chilling with the Mountain Gorillas: Another  Inexplicable Experience!</title><content type='html'>A video/pictures really would be the best way to bring alive this experience...but you will have to wait until I get home (March 18) when I will be able to upload them. For now, here is a brief summary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 of us hiked with a guide, 3 guys with guns, 1 guy with a machete and 2 trackers. After a 2 hour steep hike uphill on a narrow, overgrown, muddy path, the trackers began to make gorilla noises, calling out to our gorilla friends. We then were led off the path and literally began walking through the forest's mountain side - over bushes and through trees with a machete swipe here and there to clear the path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there he was, a huge Silverback, named Charlie, sitting there munching on bamboo. He then got up and walked to the rest of his family. We followed him and then just sat there in the forest with the gorillas all around us. At one point, a young gorilla came out of the trees and stared right at me - an arms distance away. The guide calmly told me to move to the side. Me, not so calmly, shuffled to my left as the juvenile gorilla playfully crawled right by me. Amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Saying goodbye to Sharon, Bwindi Forest Walk, Chimpanzee Tracking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-7167961826706565804?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/7167961826706565804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/chilling-with-mountain-gorillas-another.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7167961826706565804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/7167961826706565804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/chilling-with-mountain-gorillas-another.html' title='Chilling with the Mountain Gorillas: Another  Inexplicable Experience!'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-884619523562482141</id><published>2009-02-24T06:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T06:09:46.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zanzibar: Oh, the People You'll Meet</title><content type='html'>It's amazing how beach fronts can look similar no matter where you are in the world. When you look at the long sand coast with palm trees and blue water, it could be Hawaii, the Philippines, or in my case, Zanzibar, Africa. However,there are some interesting experiences that came out of the various characters we me during our 3.5 day Zanzibar island excursion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1) The Passengers: &lt;/span&gt;We stayed at a remote resort on a beach cove on the East coast. It was an hours drive from town, $100 return taxi drive. To save $$ and to add to the adventure, we took the local transport, 'dala &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;dala&lt;/span&gt;,' for $2. It's an open-air truck bed with 20 passengers sitting on top of each other - an intimate setting and a great way to meet the locals. People got on and off carrying their belongings that either joined us in the truck bed or got strapped to the top of the truck. Along the way, we were accompanied by sacks of coconuts, a bike, brief cases, a car rear-view mirror, bags of mangoes, and stacks of banana/straw leaf sheets (enough to make a thatched roof of a home). My favorite passengers were the mothers, who passed their babies, like a sack of potatoes, from stranger to stranger as they got in our out of the &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;dala&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;dala&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2) The Muslims -&lt;/span&gt; Zanzibar is unique from the rest of Tanzania in that it was influenced by Omani Arabs and it has retained the Arabic-style architecture, cobbled, &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;mazed&lt;/span&gt;-alleyway streets and a Muslim society. When roaming through the streets, it sometimes felt like we were in the Middle East, not Afr&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3) The Shopkeepers-&lt;/span&gt; "free to look, Free to touch" or "i make you a good deal" was the chorus we heard from the persistent shop owne&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4) The Greeks -&lt;/span&gt; There were two 40 year old Greek guys that we kept running into on the island. They were disappointed with Zanzibar's island offerings, constantly comparing it to the Greek isles. I found it &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;humourous&lt;/span&gt; that they were expecting a better nightlife in a Muslim tow&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;n.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5) The Saints -&lt;/span&gt; The 2 most directionally challenged travellers falsely had confidence that we could guide ourselves through the labyrinthed streets back to the &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Dala&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Dala&lt;/span&gt; station in the evening. We smartly realized the flaws in our plan and stopped into a hotel for directions. &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Artheman&lt;/span&gt;, a hotel employee, was getting off work and offered to walk with us to the station. Kenyan-born and an Obama fan, he weaved us in and out of the alleys.We arrived to the station to find that our &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Dala&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Dala&lt;/span&gt; was no longer running. It became his mission to get us home safely. He did not trust us to go with the taxi drivers at the station. He wanted to call his friend to pick us up, but his phone was dying. So, he went to the local market and asked a stranger if he could use his phone. This man happened to be an off-duty taxi driver. It too became his mission to get the Americans home. A round of &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Fantas&lt;/span&gt; later, the off-duty taxi driver's friend arrived and safely drove us home. No money was expected for their assistance, only big smiles and waves were exchanged, along with 'Hakuna Matada' (no worries&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6) The Runners -&lt;/span&gt; Sharon and I watched the sunset on the beach in &lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;stowntown&lt;/span&gt; because the people watching was enthralling. Kids were jumping off boats and restaurant owners and fisherman set-up stalls, selling cane juice and every seafood imaginable. My favorite was the group of men, who ran laps back and forth on the beach and then would line up to do aerobics..meanwhile guys were doing flips behind th&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;em.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7) Rain Man -&lt;/span&gt; We had a 45 minute taxi ride to town driven by Rain Man. He literally read each English sign to us on the drive and shared the ethnic origin of the hotel owners for each hotel we passed. He then became 'The Pusher" letting us know, he can get us marijuana or whatever drug we wanted. His Rain Man antics began to make sense and I'm convinced he smoked a big blunt before driving &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8) The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; font-weight: bold;" class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Gapers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -&lt;/span&gt; As we left Zanzibar on a ferry, I sported my sling and Sharon carried her pack on her back and my pack in front of her. Tourists and locals gaped at us, and no one offered help. But, Sharon was a champ, patiently waiting to board the ferry,with 80 extra pounds hanging  from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Drive from Uganda to Rwanda to chill with the Mountain Gorillas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-884619523562482141?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/884619523562482141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/zanzibar-oh-people-youll-meet.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/884619523562482141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/884619523562482141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/zanzibar-oh-people-youll-meet.html' title='Zanzibar: Oh, the People You&apos;ll Meet'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-4028943866601708701</id><published>2009-02-16T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T14:58:59.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking Bets...Did they make it to the Summit of Mt Kili?</title><content type='html'>Apparently, the porters told their friends and family that they were supposed to be on the mountain for 8 days, but the 2 women likely will only last for 5 days. Well, we made it to Day 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stakes were raised. The porters were now asking themselves, what are the odds that these two women will summit on Day 7 and should they bet their tip money/drinks/load to be carried in favor of the American Duo? From their point of view, the odds were against us. Sharon started getting nauseous from the altitude and puked on Day 2. And again on Day 4. And me, well, my handicap was obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the morning of the summit, our guides lagged and while everyone began hiking to the summit at 12 a.m., Team 'Ralph and Gimpy' did not start ascending the mountain until 2 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, dressed in the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feet:&lt;/strong&gt; 3 Smart Wool socks and Toe Warmers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Legs:&lt;/strong&gt; 1 thermal, 2 running pants, 1 ski pants, 1 gaiters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top:&lt;/strong&gt; 1 running tanktop, 1 hooded thermal, 2 running long sleeve tops, 1 North Face Shell jacket, 1 North Face down jacket, 1 water-resistant ski jacket, and of course, 1 sling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hands:&lt;/strong&gt; Latex gloves, 2 pairs of ski liner gloves, hand warmers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neck:&lt;/strong&gt; Scarf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Head:&lt;/strong&gt; Running cap and ski mask&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our guide wanted to catch up with the groups that left earlier, so he led us at a quicker pace than I was expecting. As we kept getting higher and kept going at a brisk pace, it was getting harder to breathe through my nose and I felt like my heart was beating fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, it was more of a mental challenge than a physical challenge. My first distraction technique was to sing songs in my head that had the word 'walk' in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Placebo:&lt;/em&gt; "Walk away to save your face. You never were a genious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Violent Femmes:&lt;/em&gt; "When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff and I'm so strung out...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Police:&lt;/em&gt; "Giant steps are what you take...walking on the moon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Frightened Rabbit:&lt;/em&gt; "I been working on my backwards walk. There's nowhere else for me to go.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got sick of hearing myself sing in my head. So I turned on my iPod, set it to shuffle and I broke down the hike into music sets. Each set contained 5 songs. When I listened to 5 songs, I cleared the set. I figured that 3 sets of 5 songs = 1 hour.....Oh, the things you do (or I guess what I do!) to keep my mind busy. So, off I went 'clearing my sets' and I followed the Big Dipper up the mountain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than 6 hours, we DID it! We reached the 'Roof of Africa!!' We saw the sunrise near the top and the glaciers were sparkling in the sun. I can't tell you what a sense of accomplishment it is to know you reached an elevation of over 19,000 feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The return down the mountain was nuts. It was a steep, downward slope, consisting of a silt/sand-like texture. My guide took my arm, told me to just let go and to trust him. I tightened my sling and off we went, flying down the mountain. It felt like we were cross-country skiing downhill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My return to camp was priceless. The porters popped out of their tents when I arrived. I had a big smile on my face and I gave them a thumbs up. There was some murmuring and my guide confirmed that I made it to the top!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two porters, who I did not know, came up to me and asked to take their picture with me. (My 30 seconds of fame :P). I assume that these are the porters that won the bet...they either will have a lighter load to carry on the way down or someone owes them drinks after the mountain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on Sharon's descent down, she puked one more time, just to be sure she left her mark and lived up to her mountain nickname, 'Kilimanjaro Ralph'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I am still in disbelief that I just hiked Mt. Kili. It seems like a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while around 4 a.m. during my summit, I vowed to myself that I would NEVER do something like this again, I now can't help but think.....&lt;strong&gt;What's next?!?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-4028943866601708701?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/4028943866601708701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/taking-betsdid-they-make-it-to-summit.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4028943866601708701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4028943866601708701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/taking-betsdid-they-make-it-to-summit.html' title='Taking Bets...Did they make it to the Summit of Mt Kili?'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-6277871908887600280</id><published>2009-02-16T07:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T07:37:53.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Dislikes and Likes while hiking Mt. Kili</title><content type='html'>Instead of recounting every detail of the 6 days leading up to the day of the final summit (19,340 feet), here's a summary of our hike highlights in a Top 10 format:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Top 10 Dislikes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) At first, I had the hot soup on my list of likes, but by the end of the trip, the daily bowl of soup began to taste like hot melted butter and became nauseating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Hiking in the morning/day, but not getting lunch until 3p.m. We all know that Jeanne gets crabby when she's hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Waiting in the cold, drafty mess tent for lunch or dinner and feeling frozen, despite the fact that I'm wearing all of my layers of clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Loose rocks on a steep downhill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Potentially being the dirtiest I have ever been in my life, smelling of a mixture of sweat, dirt and tiger balm. Jenn, aren't you glad that you did not come now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Walking so slowly to prevent altitude sickness that it felt like we were on a death march up the mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Arriving to the camp to find that our tent has been perfectly placed on a slanted slope, causing me to spend the whole night sliding out the tent door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Waking up in the middle of the night with the urge to pee and having to decide whether I can hold it all night or whether I could find the starry sky as enough motivation to get me out of the tent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Outhouses with small holes where people have aimed poorly, resulting in puddles of piss and piles of poo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Climbing up a steep, rocky mountain side (Barranco Wall) with only 1 arm. Imagine rock climbing with one arm tied behind your back and no harness. 1 slip and I would tumble down the mountain or one wrong movement and I feared dislocating my shoulder again. At this point, I stopped and wondered, "Maybe I am truly crazy for attempting this." I could not have made it up that wall without the help of my guide (see Top 10 likes #2).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Top 10 Likes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Arriving to our campsite after hiking in the morning/noon  and snuggling in our sleeping bags, drinking tea, reading or snoozing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Having mastered the art of putting my contacts in with one hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Learning Swahili and carrying a conversation with the locals using the 11 words I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Looking down on the clouds below us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Seeing the mountain that we'll attempt to summit on Day 7 get closer to us at every campsite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Our daily serving of hot porridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Our -30 degree celsius sleeping bag. I wish I could summit the mountain in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Sharon's endless patience and asistance since I am a gimp and can't tie my shoes, brush or braid my hair, roll up my sleeping bag or mat, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Shabaz, our guide. Out of all my trips and tours worlwide, I have never had such an amazing guide. He never doubted my ability to hike the mountain. He was a chatty Kathy, full of mountain knowledge, tourist stories and motivational talks. He was acutely aware of our needs and was there to help me through every slippery patch or rocky slope. At one point on the Barronco Wall, I hugged him with all my remaining enery after he literally pulled me up the steep, rocky mountain side when I could not pull myself up the rock and I though I was going to plummet to my death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Peeing under the most beautiful, clear, starry sky that I have ever seen with a view of the glacier capped Mt Kilimanjaro. The stars truly twinkled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT STOP: Attempting to summit Mt Kili (19,340 feet)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-6277871908887600280?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/6277871908887600280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/top-10-dislikes-and-likes-while-hiking.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/6277871908887600280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/6277871908887600280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/top-10-dislikes-and-likes-while-hiking.html' title='Top 10 Dislikes and Likes while hiking Mt. Kili'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-1492572571413303667</id><published>2009-02-16T06:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T07:01:03.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pole Pole</title><content type='html'>Written on February 9, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first arrived to Tanzania, the common phrase I heard from the local people was "Pole," which means I'm sorry. They wanted to let me know they were sorry for my injury. From the tourists, the common question asked, accompanied by a look of fear, was "did you do THAT on the mountain?" Once I told them 'no,' but I'm climbing the mountain in a few days, their frightened stare was replaced by a look of disbelief, as if I was crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90% of the comments seemed to be negative, such as "how are you going to climb the mountain with 1 arm?"  or "you'll get too cold up there." I brushed off their remarks by cheerfully replying: "I will do my best" or "It's no colder for someone with 1 functioning arm than someone with two!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the remaining 10% of the replies that were words of encouragement, I was grateful. So, when they said, " You're climbing the mountain? Good for you. You can do it!" I smiled and said, "See you at the top."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, Sharon and I left the sea of stares and comments from the peanut gallery and got into the jeep with Shabaz, our guide, who looked at us and said: "i will make sure you summit." I liked him already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove 4 hours past sunflower fields and pine forests and finally arrived to our more remote path up Mt Kili, Lemosho route. With a porter carrying my pack, an assistant guide carrying my day pack, and a helping hand from Shabaz or a hiking pole for balance, we started ascending up the mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The persistent phrase that we are bound to hear for the next 8 days is "Pole. Pole." When you just say "Pole," it means "sorry." When repeated twice, it means: "slowly, slowly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where "Pole, Pole" derives from, but my interpretation is, if you don't go "Pole Pole" (slowly) up the mountain, you'll be "Pole" (sorry) because the altitude will wipe you out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, "Pole Pole" it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-1492572571413303667?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/1492572571413303667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/pole-pole.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/1492572571413303667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/1492572571413303667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/pole-pole.html' title='Pole Pole'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-8853814553713374951</id><published>2009-02-08T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T09:08:16.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Circle of Life</title><content type='html'>How do I describe the last 5 days in Tanzania? I was brainstorming titles for this blog post, looking for a phrase that will encapsulate the experience:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Be very quiet, I'm hunting Rhinos&lt;br /&gt;- Animal Planet&lt;br /&gt;- Garden of Eden&lt;br /&gt;- The Big Five - Lions, Elephants, Rhinos, Leopards, Water Buffalo&lt;br /&gt;- The making of Simba&lt;br /&gt;- Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my! (minus the tigers and bears)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I settled on The Circle of Life since I witnessed both the mating of lions and killing of prey (to be described shortly). They did not show this in the Lion King! A 4 to 10 word title can't capture the experience, but I will try to give highlights of the trip and supplement the description with pictures and videos at a later date....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;Day 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Found out from the pharmacist that I was overdosing on my pain meds. I now know each pills pupose and prescribed amount. (This is a highlight for my liver. The rest of my body/mind rather enjoyed the drug induced state).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- In Lake Manyara Park, an elephant, who I call Keyser Soze, stepped out of nowhere and crossed the  road in front of our jeep with his big ears flapping. He continued to walk into the bush " And like that, poof. He [was] gone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Drove through the land of the Maasai Tribes (cattle herders). The Maasai people dress in bright red/purple cloth, are adorned with beaded jewelry and have stretched out earlobes.  It is an amazing view to see massive fields of green and then a splash of bright red surrounded by cattle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Was petted by a Maasai person, who wanted to touch my sling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Crossed the lush green hills and into the Serengeti, which stretches for miles on end. The land is arid with dry grass, but then there are pockets of green trees and vegetation. Words can't describe the immensity of the Serengeti, nor can photos paint a clear picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- There are over 1 million Wildebeest in the Serengeti. As we entered the park, we were surrounded by a sea of Wildebeast on either side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Saw the original fossil footprint of "Lucy," Australopithecus afarensis, who walked in this area of Africa almost 3.6 million years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Saw 2 lions sleeping. The female woke up, followed by the male. He proceeded to mount her in front of us, despite her lack of enthusiasm. After a mere 10 seconds, the action stops and the female walked away...likely underwhelmed by her mate's poor performace. (video to be posted shortly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Saw a leopard jump from a low branch to a high branch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Watched 2 giraffes swinging their necks together, like a synchonized dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- saw a hippo outside of the water, which is rare, and he ran across the road in front of our jeep. For a 300+ lb animal, these creatures have some wheels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Drove into the Ngorongoro Crater, which is the only crater I have ever seen that is filled with life - 30,000+ animals are here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- And a rhino crossed the road. Learned that he can beat a hippo in a race. And if he charges you, move to the side b/c they do not have lateral movement. They are dumb as stumps apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Finished my artistic creation called "The Butts of the Beasts" - a montage of rear-end shots of my favorite animals. A true work of art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Saw a pride of lions slowly take down a buffalo. They literally sat there and gnawed on his ass while the buffalo was still alive and standing - lasted for at least 3 hrs...a bit disturbing. (And yes, my non-vegetarian friends, video to follow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So, all in all a successful and entertaining safari shared with Sharon (cousin), Chris and his two sons, Chris and Charlie from San Diego, and Natalie from Alaska.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Stop: One-armed Jeanne (inspired by the nickname one-eyed Willie from the Goonies) and Sharon are ready to take on Mt. Kilimanjaro (19,000+ ft)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for the update in 8 days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-8853814553713374951?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/8853814553713374951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/circle-of-life.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/8853814553713374951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/8853814553713374951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/circle-of-life.html' title='Circle of Life'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-4393363139539702039</id><published>2009-02-07T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T06:41:45.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Trip Summary - Kenya to Tanzania</title><content type='html'>Written on February 3, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# of hours: 10 hrs&lt;br /&gt;# of passengers: 28&lt;br /&gt;# of pee stops: 1&lt;br /&gt;# of bumps in the road:  infinite&lt;br /&gt;# of off-roading detours: every 800 yards&lt;br /&gt;# of pain meds: 11 pills&lt;br /&gt;# of people staring at me: everyone (including tourists)&lt;br /&gt;# of inquiries about my shoulder: 9&lt;br /&gt;# of people sharing their dislocation stories: 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final Trip Report: Drugged up and happy to be off the bus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Stop: Wildlife Safari (5 days)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-4393363139539702039?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/4393363139539702039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/final-trip-summary-kenya-to-tanzania.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4393363139539702039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4393363139539702039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/final-trip-summary-kenya-to-tanzania.html' title='Final Trip Summary - Kenya to Tanzania'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-655013188374552607</id><published>2009-02-02T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T21:12:55.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pebbles is off to Tanzania</title><content type='html'>I have left our luxurious set-up at Lisa and Kristoffer's house in Nairobi. Rebecca, thanks so much for putting me in contact with them. They were amazing. I feel like I have known them forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin, Sharon, is here with me. She is a life-saver, packing my backpack, tying my shoes, etc. I am a gimp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a bit of a site to see. I asked Sharon to pull my hair up into a high ponytail so it will stay out of my face. I look like Pebbles, And I think I will sport this look until I can take off this tank-top and shower. And let's be honest, that is not happening any time soon. This tanktop and I are becoming one. Sorry Sharon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a large, foam, peach sling wrapped around my body. When I first arrived to Nairobi, I was surprised that noone stared at the white girl. Now, I am a walking freak show. Any plans to slide under the radar and be somewhat inconspicuous are over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Pebbles, in Day 2 tanktop is off on an 8 hr bus ride to Tanzania. I'm a slightly concerned as to how I am going to make this journey. The small van / bus is packed with 27 people. I don't think it is physically possible to fit anyone else in here. But, never say never - it will be a cozy journey. Also, the bus seems to get air time with every pot hole. I think this situation is calling for the yellow and blue pills - no more messing around with just the pink and purple ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An experience, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-655013188374552607?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/655013188374552607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/pebbles-is-off-to-tanzania.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/655013188374552607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/655013188374552607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/pebbles-is-off-to-tanzania.html' title='Pebbles is off to Tanzania'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-3189351864659409076</id><published>2009-02-01T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T09:22:49.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to Nairobi Hospital</title><content type='html'>So, I was planning on a different post. It was supposed to talk about how i wore the same clothes for 72 hours waiting for my bag to show up to Nairobi. And how I experienced how Kenyan government works when all of my property was demolished by the government in our game of Kenyan Monopoly. And how I spotted my first giraffe, zebras and warthogs on our way to our Gorge walk at Hells Gate park. But of course, leave it to Jeanne to have the following happen to her..........&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have done Gorge walks before in Australia where I was scaling the sides of gorges and i thought i would plummet to my death. Hells Gate was a relatively tame hike with occasional rocks that needed to be scaled or climbed down from. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So let's just cut to the chase. Over halfway through the hike, i was lowering myself down from a rock to the ground and i heard a pop and then another loud pop. This was followed by a plethora of expletives - all with different variations of a 4-letter word that starts with F.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a moment of envisioning Lethal Weapon. So, while i was on the ground, i tried to thrust my shoulder toward the dirt, trying to emulate Mel Gibson to pop my shoulder back into place. Damn Hollywood. It does not quite work that way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After realizing i was in the middle of a gorge and no one could carry me out and i was not going to get air-lifted out, I sucked it up and finished the hike - luckily it was only 15 minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then made our way to the local hospital (7 minutes). Pictures to follow. I was with Kristoffer (lisa's husband) and his two Danish friends, Stig and Stefan. They were awesome...and I think i almost broke Stig's hand as I was using it like a squeeze toy to help me ignore the pain. The doctor played around with my arm to test the mobility, and I screamed out more eff-bombs. It was then advised we drive to Nairobi to get x-rays since their xray machine was broken. I passed up on the injection of pain meds. The idea of getting poked with a needle in Africa sounded worse than the pain. So, the doctor made me a make-shift sling.  I should note that he had to borrow Kristof's swiss army knife to cut the bandage. Why the hospital did not have scissors... i don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we purchased some oral pain meds and we drove back to Nairobi (2 hours) through the pot-holed streets. Good times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, to make a long story short, i got expedited through the queue  at the hospital in Nairobi and the doc said my shoulder was dislocated, but it popped back in on its own. Maybe my Mel Gibson move worked after all. The x-rays said i did not fracture anything, so that's good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I am recounting the tale. I have a fabulous cocktail of pink/purple pills and red ones and a glass of wine. I am in a sling, pictures to follow...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But i am still hopeful that i will be able to make my safari and walk up Mt Kili...very slowly. The bungee jump might be out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is one way to start Day 2 of my 49 day trip.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-3189351864659409076?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/3189351864659409076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/trip-to-nairobi-hospital.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/3189351864659409076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/3189351864659409076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/02/trip-to-nairobi-hospital.html' title='Trip to Nairobi Hospital'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-5246478507518474437</id><published>2009-01-28T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T11:30:14.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I am back.....anyone want to see a movie?</title><content type='html'>After 3 hours of restless sleep, I arrive to the airport....and there is no flight out. They changed it to tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while Air Canada is a Star Alliance partner with United, whom I have flown with over 10 times in 2008 and have a flight notification set-up via email and phone, Air Canada claims they did not have my contact details to notify me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO....here I am back in bed in San Jo! Think I will see the 12:50 movie of &lt;b dir="ltr"&gt;The Curious Case of Benjamin Button&lt;/b&gt; in Mountain View.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any takers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-5246478507518474437?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/5246478507518474437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-i-am-backanyone-want-to-see-movie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/5246478507518474437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/5246478507518474437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-i-am-backanyone-want-to-see-movie.html' title='And I am back.....anyone want to see a movie?'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792359306489862707.post-4771971740935099268</id><published>2009-01-27T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T23:09:22.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Africa Itinerary</title><content type='html'>I am off to Africa! And I am no longer going to be solo the whole trip. My cousin is joining me for 3 of the 7 weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am up in less than 5 hours to depart, so here is a quick post of my itinerary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/29 - 2/2: Nairobi&lt;br /&gt;2/3: Bus to Tanzania&lt;br /&gt;2/4 – 2/8: Safari&lt;br /&gt;2/9 – 2/16: Hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro (19,000+ feet)&lt;br /&gt;2/17 – 2/20: Zanzibar, Tanzania&lt;br /&gt;2/21 – 2/8: Uganda / Rwanda (Gorilla trek, River Raft on Nile, Chimp Trek)&lt;br /&gt;3/1: Jo’burg3/2: Vic Falls, Zambia (maybe a bungee jump!)&lt;br /&gt;3/3 – 3/10: Overland From Zambia via Botswana and Krueger Park to Jo-burg&lt;br /&gt;3/11 – 3/17: Capetown&lt;br /&gt;3/17: Depart for SFO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I then have 5 days in Cali and then I go to Thailand for 2 weeks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want me to send you a postcard, send me your address!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JW&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4792359306489862707-4771971740935099268?l=solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/feeds/4771971740935099268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/01/africa-itinerary.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4771971740935099268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4792359306489862707/posts/default/4771971740935099268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solosafarisabbatical.blogspot.com/2009/01/africa-itinerary.html' title='Africa Itinerary'/><author><name>jeannerunning</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16453548964311557848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
