An Incredible Journey-24 Hours in Egypt

Getting to Egypt was a bit of an adventure. After Katie and Dan dropped us at the East London airport in South Africa, we got a lift to our hostel in what we thought was a taxi (but actually turned out to be some random guy who offered us a lift). After the impossible task of locating Buffalo Backpackers (quite possibly THE WORST backpackers on earth), we headed to Spar to grab some dinner. We bunkered down, read some and relaxed after a jam-packed week and a half with my friends from home.

Around 4 p.m. we pulled out our bus tickets--the ones that would take us from East London to Joburg, where we'd catch our flight to Egypt (and then on to India). It was only then that we realized our bus left that night! Somehow we'd read the tickets wrong and assumed we left the following day. We ran to the bus station only to learn that a) it was closed and b) buses to Joburg leave just once each day. Missing our flight out of the country wasn't an option. And since it departed the following day, taking the 22-hour journey by bus wasn't an option either.

So we scrambled.

No one at Buffalo's would let us use the phone and not a single person could tell us where a pay phone we could use was located. So we raced around the streets of East London trying to find a way to contact the local airport. With 30 hours to liftoff, it seemed our only option. After several desperate minutes on the phone, we'd been assured there was space enough on a morning flight from East London to Joburg. And while it would leave us 16 hours to wait at the airport, we were mostly just happy to be on our way and out of the black hole of East London. We were, however, less than pleased about the $120 price tag (especially since we'd already purchased a bus ticket on top of it).

So the following morning we loaded up our bags and headed to the airport, where we barely made it on the departing flight. Once we reached Joburg, we were unable to pass through airport security (we had 16 hours til our flight, after all), so we settled in at a cafe, people watched and read Shantaram. The book, which is a fictionalized autobiography of a guy living in Mumbai, is probably bigger than the Bible, so we were happy to offload it before boarding our plane to Egypt. (Turns out 16 hours is long enough to finish reading an 850 page book and to walk around the entire international terminal a few dozen times.)

Egypt wasn't a big part of our six-month travel plan, but when Rachel looked at tickets and found the cheapest way to Mumbai was through Cairo, we were pretty excited about the prospect of a visit--even if it was for just 17 hours. I'd always dreamed of seeing the pyramids and had heard from others that the city was a great destination.

Getting off the plane was like entering another world--one where females didn't exist. There were no women anywhere--none in the terminal and certainly none working. It was something I'd continue to notice when we left the airport and ventured into the city. Men were present and moving about everywhere you looked, but women were nearly impossible to find in this very traditional society.

We payed for our visa and hired a car for the day--one that would take us to the pyramids, the Sphinx, over the Nile and to a historic mosque, but also around the city limits, too.

Aside from the men, who stared endlessly as we walked out of the airport, the first thing I noticed about Cairo was that it was freezing! After two years in a place where the average temperature is over 100 degrees, arriving to sub 60 degree temps proved a major shock to the system. One we definitely were not prepared for.

Our driver took us to a hole in the wall for breakfast, where we feasted on the best falafel I've ever had. From there, it was through the city and to the pyramids. I was shocked by how run down Cairo looked. I'd imagined it to be a city of wealth, not just because of the tourists who arrive from around the world, but because of the pictures I'd seen prior to visiting. But as I looked out the window, my eyes were met with smog, pollution and decay. Rooftops were literally covered in garbage and it looked like buildings were breaking down before my eyes.




The Nile (Thats not a reflection off the water. It's smog.)




These cars are not parked. The traffic was INSANE.

I expected the pyramids to be somewhere more isolated--smack dab in the middle of a desert or well off the beaten path. So I was incredibly surprised to find that where the city ended, they began. You can literally walk from the door of a Dominos Pizza to the Sphinx.



Just like Mount Rushmore, both the Pyramids and the Sphinx were smaller than I expected, but both were still interesting to see. There were men offering camel rides everywhere we turned and plenty of people eager to take our picture for a price (neither of which we were interested in).


The Sphinx




Rachel and I looked like gypsies with all our brightly colored sitenges wrapped around us. It was mostly to keep warm, but also to avoid the leering eyes of men.





After the pyramids we headed to a famous mosque within the city limits before returning to the airport for our flight to Mumbai.




A traditional Fez Maker

Seventeen hours later, we finally boarded our plane to India. We were unsure where we'd stay once we arrived (we hadn't booked anything in advance--not the best plan, considering we would arrive on New Year's Eve), but we were still incredibly excited (and a little bit sad) to finally leave the continent of Africa after 27 months there.

An Incredible Journey-Christmas and the Wild Coast!

I've spent Christmas in some pretty incredible places. Malawi last year, and before that, with my Namibian host family who welcomed as one of their own. (But I'd still have to say, Christmas at home with my own fam is probably the most incredible place of all.)

This year's holiday was no exception. And it was particularly special because Katie and Dan were with us.


A view of the countryside from the seat of our car

We left Cape Town a couple of days ago and headed east along the Garden Route to the Wild Coast, where we made a stopover in Knysna to celebrate Christmas. We stayed in what will likely be the fanciest place we'll see on this trip--complete with adjoining rooms, a pool, a quiet area for reading and relaxing, a beautiful garden, delicious breakfast and a braai pit and kitchen we put to good use preparing our holiday meal.


Our Room


The Breakfast Room


Me and Rachel


Dan Manning the Braai


Cheffing It Up


Relaxing!

Our last stop before leaving South Africa was Cintsa, a tiny village in the heart of the Wild Coast. While the region gets its name from the wilderness it's surrounded by, we thought it could have easily gotten it from the crazy travelers staying at our hostel, Buckaneers. Despite feeling a little out of place, we ended up having a good time and enjoying the beach--even if it was a little cold!


A Tiny Inlet


A Beautiful View

An Incredible Journey-Cape Town

Rachel and I had already been to Cape Town, but that didn't make our second visit any less fantastic. That's because this cosmopolitan town had plenty to keep us busy and loads of delicious food for us to eat. (I had nachos twice in one day!) There were plenty of other RPCVs around, too, which made celebrating my final African birthday a real occasion. Especially since Katie and Dan, two of my favorite friends from America, were there to join us.


The Streets of Cape Town


My Birthday Dinner


The Birthday Dinner Crew


Early World Cup Prep

Rachel and I had already done a lot of the more touristy things in Cape Town, like Table Mountain and the Cape Point tour. But I'd tried and failed to visit Robben Island, the prison where Nelson Mandela was held captive for 27 years. I'd read his book, Long Walk to Freedom before visiting South Africa the first time, and was determined not to leave the continent before seeing where most of his story took place. Luckily Katie and Dan had booked tickets well in advance, so we were able tour the island during their visit. While most of the experience took place in a bus, where a former prisoner explained daily life at Robben Island, we were able to get out and walk around the cells where Mandela and several other well-known political prisoners stayed.


The best view of Table Mountain is from Robben Island


Mandela's Prison Cell


The Yard, where prisoners spent one hour each day


The Garden where Mandela hid his Long Walk to Freedom manuscripts

As part of the birthday festivities, Katie and Dan also planned a tour to some local vineyards. Rachel and I had done something similar on our first visit to Cape Town, but both Katie and Dan are real winos and the couple not only rented a private car, but picked a selection of tiny mom and pop vineyards (as well as a couple of big ones) for us to visit. It was the perfect way to spend an absolutely beautiful day!


The Vines


The Casks at De Toren


Outside Simonsberg. They even make their own Champagne!


The Cheese Tasting at Fairview--Almost as Good as the Wine

Tomorrow we say goodbye to Cape Town and head out along the Garden Route, bound for the Wild Coast. (Katie and Dan rented a car, so no more hitchhiking and public transport for us!) We'll be hitting up a couple of spots we missed the first time around, and celebrating our last Christmas on the continent, too.

An Incredible Journey-And We're Off!

Today marked the start of two incredible journeys. The first, our lives as Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs). The second, a five-month journey through South Africa, Egypt, India and Southeast Asia with Rachel, my CATJAR friend.

We woke early and said our goodbyes to the few volunteers that still remained before hopping into a cab and heading out to the B1 for the last time. It was only about 6 a.m., but we had high hopes of making it as far as Cape Town before nightfall. And we were planning to hitchhike the entire way. (We are, after all, ladies on a budget, and without much Nam cash left to spare!)

Our drop spot just beyond Windhoek city limits was a pretty poor one, and we waited nearly two hours for our first pick up: A guy who was only going as far as Rehoboth, about an hour south of Windhoek. Originally we'd agreed to ride only with people who were traveling as far as Keetmanshoop, but after hours on the roadside, we were just happy to be on our way.

Luckily, the man dropped us off at a petrol station, where a guy with a bakki was happy to take us the rest of the way to Keets. Rachel rode in the back while I made four hours worth of small talk up front. The sun was blazing and needless to say, Rach wasn't wearing sunscreen (she never does). We made a quick stop at a Wimpy's for milk shakes and then our ride delivered us to the outskirts of town, where we waited for a ride that would hopefully take us to Cape Town.

At first our prospects seemed weak. A mac truck offered us a lift for R100 each, but it was after 4 and he didn't have working headlights, which meant in a couple of hours we'd be forced to pull off to the side of the road and wait until morning. So we decided to roll the dice and wait a while longer. Which worked out in our favor. A brand new air-conditioned Mercedes with a nice South African driver who bought us cool drinks and snacks, pulled up and offered us a lift all the way to Cape Town. A six-hour journey directly to our hostel door. The perfect Nam send off!

Cape Town Take III: Cape Peninsula Tour

We spent our final day in Cape Town on a Cape Peninsula tour. We were told that the southern-most tip of Africa was a must-see spot for travelers because of its scenic views, lush landscapes and the chance to see some African penguins.

The weather was—once again—clear, sunny and at least somehow warm. Perfect for our outdoor adventure that included hiking, biking and a delicious picnic lunch.

Cape Town Take II: The Wine Tour

Namibia is home to a handful of lagers and just one brand of wine, so Rachel and I were eager to tour some of South Africa’s vineyards and sample the finest vintage the country had to offer.

Our first stop, Fairview, was definitely the nicest. The vineyard sits on a grassy spread of land about 25 minutes outside of Cape Town, where rolling hills, wildflowers and grazing sheep line the country roads.

It was still early—only about 10 a.m.—when we arrived. But being on holiday, we were ready to taste regardless of time. So we lined up along the old wooden bar with the rest of our tour for six generous sips of whichever wines we liked. (My favorites: Viognier and the Spice Route Sauvignon Blanc.) This was followed by a “tasting” of eight different cheeses from the vineyard’s very own dairy.



Now in America, I probably would have been content with just a bite of each. But cheese in Namibia is expensive (definitely out of budget for this PCV) and also nearly impossible to come by—especially in Khorixas. So Rachel and I loitered near the chilled marble blocks and each time the cheese monger turned her back, we eagerly stabbed two or three cubes onto a single toothpick and secretly shoveled them into our mouths.

Absolutely delicious.

I realize this type of behavior should be well beyond someone who’s 27 (and definitely beyond someone who's nearly 28). But being a PCV is a lot like being a broke college kid (or a poor journalist for that matter). You take what little you can get whenever you can get it. And hey, at least I didn’t pocket more for the road!



The weather was—against all predictions—once again beautiful. So we gathered around a table at our second vineyard, Simonsig, for an outdoor tasting. Home to both the number one Shiraz in South Africa and the Woman Winemaker of the Year, Simonsig was just as nice as Fairview—but sadly, without the cheese.

The sunny outdoor seating provided perfect views of Simonsberg Mountain, and it was one of the few places we were able to enjoy South African sparkling wine (which, for the record, was delicious).



These two top-tier wineries were followed by lunch at a third vineyard and tastings at three slightly lesser ones. Rachel and I had opted out of purchasing a bottle of wine at Fairview, hoping to come across a cheaper or more delicious blend at one of our later stops.

Note to self: this is never a good plan.

It should have been obvious, but having never been on such a tour before, we had no idea what to expect. Tours, it seems, begin with the best places and the best wines.

Then they end with the last-resort vineyards where, if you’re like us, you purchase a 1.5 liter bag of Pinotage Rose for R30 (convinced you've gotten a great deal) and only later, while sitting on a bench on the cliffs of Hermanus, realize it’s utterly undrinkable...Even for a PCV.

Cape Town Take I: Table Mountain & Robben Island

My first trip to South Africa lasted less than 24 hours. Enough time to deplane, shower, eat and sleep, before boarding a second flight bound for Namibia.

I saw only hotel room walls, marble lobbies and cool water pools.

I left knowing as much about the place as when I’d arrived.

So when the August holiday rolled around it seemed only natural to return to the country where Nam 27 had gotten its Africa start. Rachel and I wanted to spend a couple of weeks exploring the South African countryside, following the world-famous Garden Route and learning about the nation’s culture and history (which are both closely linked to Namibia’s).



Our adventure began in Cape Town, following a 19-hour, overnight bus ride from Windhoek. (One that had us waiting at customs in the freezing cold at 3 a.m.) We were exhausted upon arrival, but also eager to see the city. It was amazing—clean, busy, continental. And while the scenic mountains and crystal clear ocean surrounding it were absolutely breathtaking, I’d be lying it I said they were my favorite part. Instead, this former New Yorker relished the tar roads, city sidewalks, and yes—real coffee in paper cups (with soy milk at no extra charge).

It was absolutely glorious.



We spent most of our first day exploring the city. For me, this meant eating nachos and drinking Coronas at a few of the Mexican joints that lined Long Street. Sure, these two things are not uniquely (or even remotely) South African. But after 10 months in a culinary vacuum I was excited to see my favorites from a former life.

By day two, with our bellies finally full, we were ready to see the sites. We’d been warned that the weather in Cape Town would likely be terrible—cold, cloudy, rainy and wet. But at 8 a.m. the skies were clear and blue and the sun was shining. The conditions were perfect for hiking Table Mountain.



We’d read somewhere that the walk from town to the mountain wasn’t much fun, and other travelers recommended taking a taxi. But taxis cost money and we were rocking a serious budget. So Rachel and I decided, fun or not, we were walking the 10k from our hostel.

The route was scenic. It rolled through city streets and up wooded residential areas, passed beautiful houses and interesting shops. But less than 2k in we realized what made the trek so absolutely heinous: It was straight up vertical. We weren’t even to the mountain and already were in need of walking sticks, water and a serious rest. (And, it seemed, a membership to a gym.)

But we pressed on, and with 1k left to go, took a lift from a crazy combi driver who thought we were the insane ones for even attempting to hoof it up the hills. We’d hiked enough on the walk there, so Rachel and I swallowed our pride (and forked over the R80) and rode the cable car to the top of Table Mountain.

The views were amazing.



We spent a couple of hours exploring the paths (and the gift shop) before taking the cable car down and heading to Robben Island. For the record, this notorious prison is on the opposite side of Cape Town. We, of course, learned this the hard way. It's also one of the biggest tourist destinations in the country.

I’d read Long Walk to Freedom in preparation for our trip and was eager to see the place where Nelson Mandela had spent so many years of his life.

Unfortunately, this was as close as we got:



The day’s trips to the prison were fully booked and with other plans for the following two days, it was the one opportunity we had to visit. I was disappointed it didn’t pan out, but tried not to get discouraged. After all, I saved R130. And well, it probably would have been a lot like the book anyway.