The Purpose of Travel

"There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign."
--Robert Louis Stevenson 

"One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."
--Henry Miller.

 "If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home."
--James Michener

" The traveler is active; he goes strenuously in search of people, of adventure, of experience. The tourist is passive; he expects interesting things to happen to him. He goes 'sight-seeing.'"
--Daniel J. Boorstin

"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."
--Mark Twain

Proof That Texas Is A Cool Place

I just spent a week in Austin, TX. I had a fantastic time and I really didn't want to leave. Who knew? And as if I needed and more proof of how fun Texas is, while gassing up the car Sunday evening to go home, this car pulled into the filling station right behind me.

Can You Break A 100,000,000,000,000?

I just read that Zimbabwe recently printed a Z$100 Trillion note. Zounds that's a big number. It makes the Z$50 Billion note pictured seem quaint.

What the Rest of the World Thinks

I found this graph today. It speaks volumes about what the Bush presidency has meant for U.S. standing in the world.

Do You Want To Be A Good World Citizen Or Not?

Europeans are very pleased to say goodbye to George W. Bush. Not surprising! I've lived through seven presidents. In my lifetime I don't think the world has been happier to bid good riddance to an American president. My experiences abroad have suggested to me that most folks like the American people and all things American well enough, but they despise our leaders and our foreign policies.

Let's do something about that.

As If We Need Something Else To Make Air Travel Suck Even Harder

American Airlines is going to start charging for all checked baggage. Industry experts predict that all of the other major carriers will implement similar changes. Ugh. People already tend to carry on far too much shit, which slows security lines, boarding, and deplaning, and generally makes what is always an uncomfortable ride even more painful. This change will exacerbate all of these problems as people clamor to avoid checking luggage to save the surcharge. Dumbasses.

I Am Tired Of These Motherfucking Snakes On This Motherfucking Plane

From the "Fact Mirrors (Bad) Fiction" Dept: http://abcnews.go.com/Travel/BusinessTravel/story?id=4520635&page=1.

Biltong - Africa, Part IV.a.

While wandering about at the Minnesota State Fair last night in a saturated-fat-and-cholesterol-induced stupor, I stumbled upon a kiosk peddling beef jerky. MMM, salty goodness. That stand recalled to mind another Afrikaans word - biltong. Dried meat! It is ubiquitous at snacktime, and often it was laid out at first breakfast as well.

Word Nerd in the Bush - Africa, Part IV

Readers who have been around a while will recall that I am a word nerd. I heard some great logisms while in South Africa! I'm afraid that some of the colorful expressions I heard while there are already fading. I do yet retain a few, however. Here is a selection of interesting words and phrases I learned.

bushveld: I sought this term out. I kept wondering, "this isn't the savanna. It isn't a desert. I wonder what they call the terrain here?" Finally I plucked up the courage to ask. Later in the week, while speaking to a pretty young South African woman, I used the term. She was impressed. As Kip Dynamite would say, "yesssss!"

spoor: tracks. This word seems to encompass not only animal tracks but any evidence of something passing through an area. It somehow fits perfectly.

as well: a common English phrase, to be sure. But non-American English-speakers seem to use this phrase exclusively, never using "also" or "too." It appears to be used as a filler or transition phrase as well, much like we might use "you know." It definitely stuck in my head.

robot: probably the strangest expression that I learned while there, they use the term "robot" for "traffic light." "Go to the first robot and take a left, you can't miss it."

sort: another perfectly commonplace word that non-Americans use in a wide variety of ways. Where we might use organized, settled, resolve, comfortable, figured out, ready, or fixed, English-speakers from other countries often use the catch-all "sorted." I found the expression to be perfectly understandable, though it sounded unusual and distinctive in my ear. I liked it.

braai: barbeque! We had three braais: one brunch and two dinners. One of our dinnertime braais was a surprise meal in the bush. We had been driving in the game viewer, and it was well after dark, and I noticed we weren't heading back to the lodge. Suddenly we pulled into a clearing where a big campfire blazed and some men had set a lovely table. Norman, our chef, was waiting with some flame roasted bacon and cherry kabobs and a giant liquor table.

courgette: zucchini. Interestingly, Norman, whose English wasn't very good, was able to tell me that courgette & zucchini were the same thing, whereas Esmay, one of our other chefs, whose English was very good, did not know the American English word for the vegetable.

farm: I was kind of worried when I heard this term. You see, much of the Venetia-Limpopo Nature Reserve is reclaimed "farmland." I thought, "are we going to even see wild Africa?" Luckily my concern was unfounded: South Africans use the term "farm" the way we would use the term "ranch." The reserve is an unspoiled wilderness that had previously been fenced by "farmers" to keep game in a tighter area.

yoghurt: I love the way the Brits say this word. And the spelling is pretty great as well. I learned that it is Turkish in origin.

dam: blame the Dutch for this one. Anyone piles up a mound of dirt somehere and it's a dam. Doesn't seem to matter whether there is water about or not.

boma: fenced enclosure. I'd heard the term before, but I thought it just a strange and exotic term. But somehow being in South Africa made me realize that people need a word for the concept. And for me, like so many other nouns, the word assumed the form of the thing itself, and the word and the thing became inextricably linked. So it was with boma.

Bushveld - Africa, Part III

The image I had of wild Africa was wholly informed by nature shows. These programs seem to focus exclusively on Africa's three major biomes: the savanna, the deserts, and the rainforests. So I was surprised by the scenery when I entered the Venetia-Limpopo Nature Reserve in South Africa. What was this rocky, dusty, broken place, filled with forlorn shrubbery and punctuated by huge, writhing trees?

The bushveld is unique to a relatively small area in southern Africa. At first glance, scanning the horizon from a hill, it looks barren, harsh, and devoid of life. But nothing could be further from the truth. With anything more than a cursory observation, the signs of life immediately become inescapable: animal tracks and animal droppings line every path in all directions. Insects, birds, reptiles, ungulates, pacyderms, and carnivores strive and flourish in every corner.

Throughout my years I've hiked in many different areas around North America and I have never seen so much evidence of animal life as I did in my eleven day visit to the South African bushveld. It was astonishing and fascinating. I asked myself many, many times, "how does this landscape support life in such diversity and quantity?"

The bushveld is truly impressive. This environment renewed my awe for the majesty and subtlety of nature.

Shutterbug - Africa, Part II

I've probably sent my safari pictures to everyone I know, plus all of their friends, relatives, hairdressers, post officers, and dog groomers. But if I somehow missed you, and you are interested, have a look.

While in Africa I became completely obsessed with taking wildlife and nature pictures. It was so much fun! In retrospect I was probably pretty goddamn obnoxious. Oh well. That's what a passion can churn up.

There and Back Again - Africa, Part I

It is a thirty-hour odyssey from the Venetia-Limpopo Game Reserve in South Africa to Polokwane and Johannesburg, on through Dakar, Senegal, across the Atlantic to Atlanta, Georgia, and finally north to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Home! By the end of the return voyage I felt a coating of sweat and oil and filth all over my person. My mood was poor and my thoughts were addled and incoherent. But a long, hot shower and a blessed sleep have restored my humanity. I may now sort my reflections on the entire superlative experience.

Africa. A huge continent, teeming with fantastic life and immense power, yet burdened with a myriad of problems. It may sound cliche, but Africa possesses a wild, rugged, romantic appeal. I went for the animals. I was quite unprepared for the scope and majesty of the land. Over the next week or so I'll be assembling my stories and pictures. I'll post as much of the tale of this epic journey as possible.

Leaving, On A Jet Plane

Tuesday morning I shall embark on what will be for me an epic journey. I travel to South Africa to live on a game reserve for eleven days. On this adventure I will be a working tourist, following and assisting some researchers as they study the endangered African Wild Dog. Watching these creatures in their natural habitat will be fascinating, and I'm sure I will be engaged by the scientists' work, but I hope to see all manner of African animals while there.

During this voyage my blog will most likely sit idle: my particular friend and guide tells me that connectivity is dodgy at best in this remote part of the country. So I shall resort to an old fashioned method of recording my thoughts and experiences, using primitive tools known as "pen" and "paper." But in spite of this low-tech solution, I did indulge myself with a new high-tech gadget: a Nikon D40. It is fine entry-level digital SLR camera. I played with it for much of the day, taking pictures of my nieces at a family picnic. I've been pleased with its advantages over my old camera. So not long from now I will be posting some tales and pictures from my trek into the African wilderness. Talk to you soon!

I Need A Vacation

While I was doing the dishes this evening, my clumsy and crooked red-point Siamese cat Merry, bright gray owing to his romp in the garden, was standing over the giant kibble in the dog food dish helping himself. Crunch! Meanwhile my little black Pomeranian Durin can't get enough of the cat food. What is wrong with you people?!?

Uh Oh

I have recently become acquainted with a reality television show called Rogue Nature, in which a ruggedly handsome yet strangely uncharismatic zoologist contrives encounters with wild animals. He does not look for creatures with merely a general reputation for being dangerous to humans. Instead, he specifically seeks the individuals who have shed their natural shyness and have attacked people.

Last night he sought out rogue lions. Now here's the rub: next month I'm going to be in South Africa. Guess where he was? Yup, right where I'll be. Three weeks from now, I'll be hoofing it through a game reserve near the border of Mozambique, where each year hundreds of refugees are eaten by lions while trying to cross into South Africa. Gulp!

City of the Dead

Last week I spent time in Savannah, Georgia and Hilton Head, South Carolina. I'd never been in the South, unless you count Florida, which somehow seems separate from what I think of as "the South." Probably because of its drug lords, theme parks, retirees, and crazy Cuban expatriates. And Katherine Harris.

I went south to attend my cousin's wedding, who last Saturday married a fine young gentleman from Georgia, whom she met in college. He seems a kindly, if somewhat reserved chap. To his credit he smiles broadly and warmly and often, which are always handsome features in a person. I wish them well in all their future journeys! At the very least, I hope that they need never again endure the maudlin drunkenness of groomsmen.

Hilton Head Island, where we stayed, is not a real remnant of the Old South - there is nothing historical about the place. It is a giant gated community set in the midst of golf courses and surrounded by docks berthing sea-faring luxury fishing boats. Truly, a creation of leisure, affluence and modern technology. The island did have one thing to offer, however: I got a chance to ride a rented bicycle on a lovely day, and its natural beauty was arresting.

Across the South Carolina border, perhaps an hour from Hilton Head, lies Savannah. This is a city steeped in American History. Walking its streets one can almost reach back to colonial times and even back to the Old World and our European heritage. The city was fought over during the Revolutionary War, and one macabre tour guide intoned solemnly that it is "difficult to take more than a few steps in Savannah without stepping over someone's bones."

On the urging of my mother, while in Savannah, I made the pilgrimage to Bonaventure Cemetery to see some of the artifacts represented in the book Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil. I never read the book, but I did see Clint Eastwood's film version. The cemetery was made famous by an iconic statue within that appeared on the cover of said book.

Incidentally, the so called "Bird Girl" statue has since been removed from Bonaventure. People couldn't resist the urge to paw at this wistful, serene figure, and apparently it began to rapidly deteriorate. It can now be seen in an art museum in downtown Savannah.

The cemetery is not gigantic, but its moss-covered live oak and its secluded location make it a remarkable place. Savannah had a large Jewish population from the earliest days of its history, and the cemetery possesses a sizable division for the Jews interned there. And one simple stone marks the spot where the ashes of 344 victims of the Holocaust are buried.

The remains of some of Georgia's most famous citizens lie in Bonaventure. But the most entertaining sites to visit are certainly the graves of Johnny Mercer and Conrad Aiken. Aiken was a poet whose stone is actually a bench, inviting people to sit and have a martini with him (one set of visitors were doing just that on the very day we went!). His epitaph reads "Cosmos Mariner, Destination Unknown" and beside that, "Give My Love To The World." As for Johnny Mercer, you may not know the name, but he wrote some of the indelible songs of the mid-20th century.

If it seems I have written a lot about the cemetery, it is because history holds a fascination for me that is awakened in such places. I find myself imagining the lives of the names on the stones, how they lived and died, their funerals, and even their subsequent visitors. In no way is this better illustrated than in the story of Gracie, a girl who died at the age of six in 1889. The daughter of a wealthy and successful hotelier, she was the delight of the guests who stayed at her father's inn. She was stricken with pneumonia and died, and her grieving father commissioned a statue of her to mark her grave. It is a vivid portrait: its cherubic, angelic face undimmed by more than one hundred years. A moving tribute of a family's love for a life cut short.

Before I embarked on this trip, I got into an argument about the South with some friends of mine. They were intent upon berating the denizens of that region as red-state, ass-backward hicks. What bears remembering is that Republicans win 55-45, 60-40 in those states, and Democrats win 55-45, 60-40 in the so-called "blue" states of the North. We're not as different as some people want to believe. One can find fascinating people and culture and history almost anywhere!

That said, I did have two experiences that can only be described as surreal. The first was while taking a tour in Savannah. We entered the Sorrel Weed House, where a man from Youngstown, Ohio gave our tour. He asked the group, "are you Lee fans or Sherman fans?" Most of the small crowd seemed dumbfounded by his question, but I quipped, "I am a fan of neither!" Astonishingly, the mark of the Civil War is still felt in the South, so much so that it compels a young man from the North to claim allegiance to a long-dead general of an unhappy conflict. I would love for someone to explain this phenomenon to me.

The second experience was even more bizarre: at the wedding, there was an all-black rock/soul band that played covers of "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Play that Funky Music White Boy." The all-white crowd danced gleefully to both songs. Oye. Maybe I should have passed on the vodka cranberries and went for the Southern Comfort.

Seen on the Interstate

On the road between Hilton Head, South Carolina, and Savannah, Georgia, I spotted this billboard:

I've studied the sign many times. I'm wondering what it means.

Africa or Bust!

Well, it's really happening. I'm going to Africa! How cool is that? I still can't quite believe it. Here's how it came to be: my mother-in-law is good friends with an eminent animal behaviorist and author. He was in town last month visiting her, en route to Yellowstone National Park to observe big cats.

At any rate, he leads safaris a couple of times a year. At our dinner gathering, he was working hard to convince my maw-in-law that she should go with him to South Africa this August. At one point he turned to me and said, "you should come too!" Though it was sort of a conversational lark, it planted a seed in my head. I took a chance and emailed him, he and I traded a few emails, and lo-and-behold I'm part of the expedition!

Here's a picture of where I'm staying - the Little Muck Lodge.

This year's trip is focused on researching wild dogs of South Africa, though we will observe all manner of wildlife on the expansive game preserve in Limpopo. He sent me a CD with a lot of pictures. I'll upload a few soon.