Visa run to Betong

Visa Hassles - March 12, 2011

We're in Betong, the Las Vegas of southern Thailand and former home of Nut, my BTGF. I'm here on a "visa run", a frequent and unavoidable nuisance for foreign travelers in Thailand. We picked this city for a couple of reasons, one sentimental and one practical: Nut lived here for 8 years before moving to Bangkok and hasn't been back for more than 2 years. And coming here by a route she has often used, a route that involves a short traverse through northern Malaysia, offered a chance to leave the country and thus not overstay my visa as well as for Nut to visit a part of Thailand that holds many good friends and memories. We took an overnight train to Hat Yai and then came by minivan here to Betong. I checked out of Thailand, entered Malaysia and then reentered Thailand a few hours later with a new Visa On Arrival (VOA) all in the same day. The visa I obtained in this manner is, unfortunately, only good for 14 days until the 24th of March. Read on if you want to hear my visa rant, otherwise skip down to the Betong heading.

[begin rant...]

One of the many idiosyncrasies in the Thailand visa rules is that if you enter the country by air and do not already have an official Tourist Visa, you are issued what's called a Visa On Arrival which is valid for 30 days. If, however, you enter the country by land your VOA is valid for only 14 days. Why this is so is anybody's guess, especially in a country that depends so heavily upon tourist dollars. I had obtained a "triple entry" Tourist Visa from the Thai embassy in Los Angeles last summer. It entitled me to three 60-day visits. Typically when your first 60-day period is almost up you would make a quick trip outside the country (a visa run), to Laos or Cambodia usually, stay for a day (or a week), or turn around and come back immediately to begin your next 60-day period. If I had been careful with those three visits my Tourist Visa would have allowed me to stay for 6 months as long as I made two exits and re-entries. But when Nut and I left Laos back in mid December to come back to Bangkok we only stayed about a week before going to Cambodia. In this way I more or less wasted one of the entries on the original triple entry visa -- I used only a small portion of the 60 days I was entitled to. I used the last of my three entries to get back into the country after leaving Cambodia. Three weeks later I went to Africa.

Fast forward to February 10. Upon my return from Africa I was only allowed the standard VOA of 30 days. That visa, a VOA by air, expired on March 11th, long before my March 31 departure date. Hence the need to make a visa run and the reason we made this long journey to Betong. In addition, because this new VOA, the VOA by ground I got when we entered Thailand on a bus, is only good through March 24 I must kill at least a week here so that when I cross back into Thailand on the way back the new 14 day VOA will take me up to the 31st. That means we must stay here until the 17th. You might ask, why not just stay longer than your visa allows? Because it's expensive to do that, very expensive.

A friend unintentionally overstayed his visa when he mixed up the "Must be Used Before Date" with the "Valid Until Date" on his 60-day Tourist Visa. He missed his flight home because he couldn't immediately come up with the fine levied at the airport by Thai Immigration: 500 baht for each day he was in Thailand illegally. His fine amounted to a total of about 13,000 baht ($390 USD). If you add to that the $150 re-booking fee charged by his airline, it was a costly oversight.

To make matters worse, I recently learned from my friend Henry that when Nut and I returned to Bangkok from Laos back in December I was not required to use one of those precious 60-day entries. I could have requested a 14-day VOA at that point and saved one of the 60-day visas for my return from Africa. DOH! I didn't know you could do that. My apparently incorrect understanding was that you had to use all the entries on your Tourist Visa  before you could use a VOA to get into the country. None of this is spelled out anywhere. It is stuff learned only through experience.

[end rant]

Betong (March 11-17, 2011)

There's not much going on in Betong to interest the typical falang traveler. I referred to it as the Las Vegas of southern Thailand because it's a travel destination for many well paid Malaysian workers. Malaysia is a predominantly Muslim country where drinking alcohol and partying are frowned upon, in fairly sharp contrast to Thailand. Consequently Thailand is considered wide open to the many Muslims who live near the border and Betong attracts droves of these fun seekers. They party in the discos, eat out and get massages, hire willing Thai bargirls for fun and frolic and in the process drive the prices of everything skyward. The modest hotel we're staying at here, the Cathay Hotel (N5.77290 E101.07012), costs 550 baht, about $17 USD, and food seems to cost about double what it does in Bangkok. Nor is the food as much to my liking as that of Bangkok and the northern provinces. The curries and sauces here tend to be Indian influenced and contain some ingredient, as yet unidentified, that offends my sense of taste. We went to a nearby street-side restaurant the other night and the bill for a fried fish, a Heineken, some rice and stir-fried veggies, came to 680 baht. Although the fish in its chili-garlic-citrus sauce was delicious the price would be considered exorbitant in the rest of Thailand. The food commonly available on the street is a mixture of Thai, Muslim, and Chinese. The local Chinese food I've had is bland to the point of tastelessness. Nut however is loving this reintroduction to the food she remembers from her years here.

Betong skyline from our hotel room

Swallows roosting for the night near the Clock Tower

Seeing as we're so much nearer the equator I expected to be uncomfortably hot most of the time but the climate is surprisingly pleasant, quite a bit cooler and rainier than Bangkok. We've been here four days and it's been partly cloudy all day every day with occasional short, intense rain showers. At night it's actually cool enough to make you feel chilly were you aboard a moto. Nut says that's the way the weather here usually is — Betong has no rainy or dry season as up north — it rains almost every day and it's generally cloudy. I'm positively loving this relief from Bangkok's hot and muggy March weather. Nut rented us a small moto for 200 baht a day and we've been going for rides here and there in the surrounding countryside. The area is beautiful — mountainous terrain clothed in cool, verdant forest interspersed with groves of rubber and orange trees. Rubber is the big cash industry here. Rubber workers earn good salaries, sometimes as much as 3000 baht per day ($100 USD), a huge salary in rural Thailand. Most of the rubber in the world is synthetic like the product used for tires but there must be a substantial market for pure gum rubber and latex which is what will be made from this material.

Raw rubber mats

We visited Betong's Winter Flower Garden (N5.88605 E101.02075) on a cloudy day with rain threatening to fall at any minute. It's about 15 miles out of town at an elevation of about 1000 feet. We wandered around shooting pictures on this cool, breezy day, a day that ended up being quite lovely. We got back to town just before the big afternoon downpour.

Relaxing in the shade - Betong Winter Flower Garden

My BTGF

Rain threatens to dampen our outing - it's time to leave

During our last days here we took a couple of random motorcycle rides into the surrounding country just for something to do. I was fascinated by the rubber trees. The method of gathering the sap or milk is similar to the way we collect maple sap for making maple syrup. The rubber tree groves, each tree with its collecting cup attached, also look similar. In the closeup below the cup is positioned so as to not collect anything either because the sap isn't flowing or there's too much rain at the moment. Diluting the milk with rain water renders the collected product less valuable. The trees in the rubber groves in the hilly area around Betong are again reminiscent of New England sugar bushes because most aren't regularly spaced in neat rows nor do they appear to be intensively cultivated.
(Note added 07/22/12 - I recently learned that rubber tress are native to South America. These and all other rubber trees in S.E. Asia were brought here by the British and other colonial powers because rubber was, and remains, a strategically and economically important material.)

This tree bears the marks of many collections

Finally it was time to head back to Bangkok. We had traveled as far as Hat Yai on an overnight train, something I'd always wanted to try. It was both more, and less, than I had expected, especially considering the cost of 1,500 baht (~$45 USD) each. The compartment was tiny even with the upper berth folded up — there was barely room to sit with my legs out in front of me. Of course for most Thais legroom is a non-issue. When the porter came round to set us up for sleeping we found the beds quite comfortable. However, the air-conditioning was set so low as to chill us both to the bone despite the blankets, or that we had donned our socks and long sleeve shirts. Nut, who was in the top berth nearest the cold air outlets, slept fitfully that night. Was there a temperature adjustment in the compartment? Are you serious? I had heard stories about the frigid aircon in those sleepers but I guess I didn't believe they would keep them that cold. Now, I believe. The trip took about 15 hours and, aside from the chilly night, was quite comfy. For our return trip I opted to travel in a  so-called VIP bus. The bus trip is quicker by about 4 hours (go figure), cheaper — 1000 baht vs 1,500 baht  and our only other experience with such a bus, back in October when we made a 9-hour trip from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, had been good. But first we had to get back to Hat Yai. For 250 baht apiece we booked a minivan to take us there.

Nut with some friends at Cathay Hotel - Betong

The 4-hour trip from Betong in the minivan was dreadful. I swear I will never ride with one of these crazy-ass cowboys again. The drivers are aggressive, drive like they own the road, and are totally unconcerned if the other 12 people in the vehicle live or die. You read about minivan accidents all the time in the Bangkok papers: "Minivan rear ends truck — 8 dead including the driver!"; "Minivan leaves highway at 140 km/hr — driver to blame!" Before overtaking a vehicle these guys pull up to within a few feet of it and stay glued to its bumper until the other driver sees him and pulls over with stark terror in his eyes. Often as not the other vehicle is a small motorcycle carrying a passenger or passengers, frequently children. Do they give a shit? Nope, just business as usual. They'll come to within a few feet of it and just squeeze right by totally unconcerned about any oncoming traffic or whether the bike is being forced off the road. One tiny error in judgment at this critical time could kill or maim several people. In this particular van, the driver had a seat belt (unused of course - he wouldn't want to appear weak or unmanly) but there were none for the passengers. He never hesitated to attempt a pass on curves or hills and NO PASSING  zones meant absolutely nothing to him. The minivan ride going to Betong was bad but this one was downright scary. By keeping silent the Thai passengers, long schooled to keep mum as a matter of politeness, as a point of honer almost, only encourage the continuance of this stupid and reckless behavior. And I, unable to speak Thai, sit in frozen anger waiting for the truck to suddenly appear in our lane, or the moto we're now crowding off the road to spill its occupants out onto the pavement in the path of our wheels. Never again, I swear.

Against all odds we did make it alive to Hat Yai. After buying our bus tickets we booked a hotel room near the terminal and then took dinner at a restaurant Nut remembered. After a nice meal we hit the sack. Next day at 5 pm we left for Bangkok. If you've never seen a Thai VIP bus some of the shots below will introduce you. They're pretty cool. Spotlessly clean and nicely furnished with thick curtains that always work (rule #1: all Thais hate the sun!) they have seating for only 24-32 people in a double-decker configuration allowing plenty of room for everyone.

Interior of upper deck - VIP bus

The view from our lower deck seats - VIP bus interior- Hat Yai

Some might consider the color scheme a bit garish. Thais love vibrant colors and these bus interiors show that. The exteriors are pretty wild too — I love the way the Thais decorate their vehicles. Same for taxis: brilliant colors; hot pinks, bright greens, shades of orange.

We're on our way home - Hat Yai to Bangkok by VIP bus

Bangkok, March 22, 2011

After an 11-hour overnight trip that wasn't nearly as comfortable as I'd hoped we were back in our little place on Soi 4, Samsen Road, where Nut and I will bide our time until the flight that will carry me to Oregon leaves. While it's good to be back in these familiar surroundings I'm also feeling sort of blue. I'll enjoy my months stateside, of course. I'll visit with my family and spend the summer in Alaska with my old and dear friends. But I'll be looking forward to returning next October.

I'm actively trying to buy a used motorcycle in the general neighborhood of Eugene before I leave here. I found a snippet of HTML code somewhere on the net that I modified to search the Craigslists in cities close to Eugene for a Suzuki DL650. I also have several eBay Saved Searches that alert me by email whenever a new DL650 listing appears. It's only a matter of time before a good and workable deal shows up. Buying a bike sight unseen is a tricky situation considering I would be unable to inspect it before I buy nor would it be easy, and maybe not smart, to pay four thousand dollars for a bike without being right there to receive the signed title in my name. Perhaps I'd best wait until I'm at Tuli's to buy it. I'll try to keep you in the loop.

Africa - Zambia, Zambezi rafting and Victoria Falls

Zambia

We pretty much just rolled on through Zambia in pursuit of our final destination,Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. We camped for three nights in Zambia — the first, the night of January 31, at Chipata Camp just over the border from Malawi, the second at Eureka Camp just outside the capitol city of Lusaka, and the third at a place called The Waterfront, which is in Livingstone just a mile or so upstream from Victoria Falls. There's not much to say about Zambia because we drove right through it. It was sparsely populated but pretty country and it sported the best roads I'd seen in Africa. A brief stop in Lusaka was a study in contrasts, however. One minute we were driving through lightly populated rural country with huts made of mud and grass and down at the heels marketplaces, the next we found ourselves at a modern shopping mall with coffee shops, restaurants, ATMs, the works. It might have been transplanted to Lusaka from any modern suburb in the U.S.

Roadside scene - rural Zambia house

Rural marketplace - Zambia

We make a lunch stop somewhere in Zambia

Sunset Cruise - Livingstone, Zambia

I reckon the most memorable part of being in Zambia was the Sunset Cruise, aka The Booze Cruise, out of Waterfront Camp on the Zambezi River. We paid $45 USD for a cruise on the Zambezi, a cruise that included dinner and all the alcohol you could drink in two and a half hours. We didn't see much of a sunset that evening and the dinner was only okay. We were able, however, to put away a fair amount of booze — no surprise there I guess. During the cruise I did manage get a few pictures of the folks from my truck with whom I'd become friendly over the past few weeks of traveling together. 

"Little Dave", Shannon, Kathleen, Liz, Kelsey and Andrew, aka The Canadians

Me with Andrew and "Little Dave"

I should explain how the name "Little Dave" came about before going on because it's part of a pretty good story I'll relate later on. Dave is younger than me (I guess that's obvious) and smaller than me, also obviously. He's a lovely fellow who I got to know on Zanzibar when I helped him use my Skype account to phone his bank in order to unfreeze his credit card. Drinks and oaths of friendship followed our success but because I had been a pivotal player in this essential contact the rest of the Canadians thereafter dubbed me Big Dave and him, unfairly, Little Dave. I'll get to the rest of the story presently. First, some more photos of our little group:

Nick, our driver, Kelsy, Mwangi, our road boss, and Herb from Perth

Liz and Kelsy

Shannon and Kathleen

Dinner on the Booze Cruise. Lisa is on left, her partner Jamie is hidden behind her. The rest you know already.

Here too is a photo of three of the Australians. Sandra and Wayne were touring with their 18 year old son Stuart who is just about to enter college somewhere in New South Wales.

Sandra, Wayne and Stuart

Pixie from Perth, Shannon and Kathleen

The ride from The Waterfront in Zambia to Victoria Falls was a short one. We got through Zimbabwe Immigration without any problems, exchanged our Zambian quachas for American dollars and set up our tents for the last time at the Rest Camp in Victoria Falls town. We spent the next few days there doing a variety of activities available through an outfit named Wild Horizons. This is a fine tour company that offers everything from bungee jumping the Zambezi Gorge to guided walks with lions. Most of these activities were fairly expensive, around $100 USD on average, so I chose only one, the Whitewater Rafting for $105 USD. Not that I was interested all that much in the bungee jumping. As it turned out the raft trip was quite an experience in itself.

Zambezi Whitewater Raft Trip

The relaxed start of our trip above Rapid #11

We got picked up at 9 am at our campsite and got driven a few miles out of town to our put-in point above Rapid #11. Because the water level was quite high at this time of year the upper rapids, those closer to Victoria Falls, were too dangerous. Consequently, the half-day trip going from Rapid 11 to Rapid 24 was the one we did. After a short pep talk and some basic instructions we each grabbed a life jacket, helmet and paddle and set off down the steep path to the bottom of the Zambezi Gorge. There in a little bight of quiet water we climbed aboard a rubber raft and took a short course in following the instructions of Colgate (real name Creto), our boat boss (rearmost in above photo), and James (top right). Most of us chose to ride in a boat like the one shown above, nicknamed a "paddle boat". That means we chose to actively paddle our raft down the river and through the rapids. The other choice was the so called "chicken boat" in which the passengers were passive — only along for the ride so to speak. It was steered by one of Wild Horizon's expert oarsmen who would, we later learned, also avoid the worst of what was ahead.

These photos were taken by Wild Horizons people who came along in small whitewater kayaks. They would go ahead of us and set up cameras in spots that offered a good view of each rapid. I think they were hoping for some spills so they could get some exciting, and salable photos. I, along with many other participants, bought the DVD containing these photos along with a video for $45 USD. There is a more complete photo collection of the raft trip in my Facebook profile. You can see that album here.

Some of our party, "Canada Liz" and "Alaska Elizabeth", chose to ride the chicken boat

The first few rapids were thrilling. We paddled hard whenever Colgate barked out an order: paddle left!  paddle right!, back-paddle!, trying to catch each rapid just right. Sometimes the boat would almost fill with water when we caught one at a bad angle. These boats are (somehow) self-bailing so we never had to remove any water. Good goddamn thing! Some of these standing waves were huge, towering over our heads at times, and literally roaring at us — it was quite unsettling when heading straight into a particularly surly one on such a big river. They don't call it the Mighty Zambezi for no reason — no shit, it is all of that. All too quickly we saw one of our boats flip over in a big wave. Gnarly water that!

The chicken boat approaches a big wave below. The skillful steersman managed to somehow avoid taking a spill during the whole trip. But every one of the paddle boats dumped at least once. Go figure!

So far we were doing okay. Our guides had pointed out that during a spill there's really very little danger of hitting a rock as the Zambezi is something like 180 feet deep  here! These massive rapids are usually due to the fast current and shoreline obstructions, etc., not rocks as in so many other rafting situations. I had all I could do to take in the wonderful scenery as it raced by. My eyes were focused on the water and rapids ahead. And we were paddling hard all the time, racing into the rapids, having fun chasing waves and white water. In the next photo we have just made it through a big rapid. That's Little Dave pointing skyward. Next to him on the left in the photo is Shannon and directly behind me is Kathleen, all part of the Canadian contingent.

We emerge giddily victorious after a close encounter with a large rapid

We weren't so lucky on Rapid #16a, also known as "The Terminator." At some point during our meeting with this monster we knew we were going over. There wasn't much to do except hope for the best. I'll readily admit right now that once I found myself in the water struggling for breath, I got damn scared.

We're losing the battle with The Terminator

I'm looking into the jaws of The Terminator and not really liking what I see

We're going over - see the close up view above

Right about now, I'm thinking I might be drowning

So much water, everywhere I turn. I just couldn't seem to get enough air to breathe.

Little Dave offers a welcome hand to Big Dave

Okay, so I didn't drown. But when Little Dave reached out for me I was damn happy to see his extended hand, make no mistake about that. This is how we traded nicknames — because in that moment he surely became Big Dave in my eyes. For me anyway the rest of the trip wasn't quite as much fun as before we spilled. First I had yet to get my big carcass back into the slippery boat. After James and Colgate righted it that is. I desperately hoped I wouldn't have to go through anything like that again. Luckily the Terminator was the worst rapid we faced that day. Still, I was thoroughly tuckered out when we reached the take-out point just beyond Rapid #24. After a bunch of high-five-ing and back-slapping we began the 300 foot ascent to the top of the gorge for cold beers and a picnic lunch. It was an ugly climb in the heat and a wake-up call for me to try to get into better shape for tennis this summer. Four months of sitting on my ass drinking beer just isn't cutting it. When all was said and done the floating part of our raft trip had lasted about 3 hours and had covered only the few miles between Rapid #11 and Rapid #24.  They closed the river to rafting due to high water on the following day.

Victoria Falls

I hung around camp sort of biding my time for the next couple of days. People from our truck bungee jumped, took helicopter flight-seeing trips, walked with the lions, and did other fun things. Jambo and Willy took a guided canoe trip on the river above the falls. They watched elephants, hippos, and observed the exotic bird life, for example. But now that the safari was over my thoughts turned to Bangkok and Nut. I had originally planned to travel for an extra week with Jambo, Willy, and Elizabeth but by now I was tired of Africa and really missing Nut so pretty quickly I decided to try to get back to Thailand. After a bunch of hassles with telephones that refused to work in Zimbabwe I finally got on Skype and spoke to Kenya Airways in Nairobi. I manged to reschedule my return flight for the 9th rather than the 12th. That done I decided it was time to visit Victoria Falls.

The falls, the African name for them by the way is Mosi-O-Tunya (The Smoke that Thunders), are always in your consciousness when you're anywhere in the town. One need only look up to see vast clouds of mist hanging in the sky. The mist can reach over 1300 feet into the air. Their roar is also constant and can be heard everywhere in town. Elizabeth and I walked over to Victoria Falls Park paid the rip-off fee of $30 USD to enter and spent part of a morning enjoying them from up close. The funny thing about these falls is that the water drops into a narrow gorge — you cannot get a view of the falls in their entirety anywhere except from the air.

I'm very familiar with Niagara Falls as it's near my home town of Buffalo, New York. From the Canada side you can get a magnificent view of the whole deal. Not so here. Victoria Falls is high — at 360 feet (108 meters) they're more than twice as high as Niagara Falls  (360 vs 167 feet), and at 5600 feet quite a bit wider too (5600 vs 3950 feet). I was surprised to learn that the average volume of water going over them is less then that delivered by the Niagara River (38,430 vs 85,000 cu ft/sec). That average reflects both seasons, the dry and the wet. The maximum recorded flow of the Zambezi River however is an astounding 452,000 cu ft/sec while for the Niagara it is 240,000 cu ft/sec. About half of the Niagara River's huge flow of water is diverted into hydroelectric generators and never even makes it over the falls.

I had Elizabeth take this shot of me in my Alaska Boats and Permits hat. I didn't need it on this trip (too blasted hot) but took it along on this soon-to-be-wet walk along the south rim of the falls.

I include a couple of photos from Wikipedia that show the falls from above so you can get an idea of what I'm talking about. The so called "Danger Point" is the furthest point you can walk to on the Victoria Falls Park footpath that skirts the south side of the chasm.

The Falls during the dry season  — 2003

Elizabeth and I walked along the footpath taking in the view when we could and getting soaked with the constant  "mist" which felt like, and in reality was, a torrential downpour. Danger Point, clearly visible in the dry season photo above, was quite fun when we were there on our visit during the wet season. Water filled the air and we were instantly drenched again with warm Zambezi water. We were very impressed with the roar of the giant falls, so close to us there, and with the powerful winds generated by the massive amount of water falling so far through space a stone's throw away. As you can see in the top photo, Danger Point is perpetually shrouded in mist during much of the year. In the lower photo the International Bridge connecting Zambia in the north (top and right) with Zimbabwe in the south is shown. The Zambezi delineates the international boundary generally. After our soaking at Danger Point I walked the few kilometers to camp in the hot sun. By the time I got back my clothes were dry.

We spent a couple of nice evenings at our camp restaurant with the gang from the truck but by this time folks were starting to disperse and go their own way — a bittersweet time. Some of us would continue to Capetown or Botswana with a new crew on a different truck. Others would be heading home, or like me would continue traveling elsewhere. Here are a few more photos of our group at the Rest Camp Restaurant in Victoria Falls.

Me with Little Dave

Little Dave and Helen

Aimee and Katy

Pete and me

The Alaskan travelers at safari's end - Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

There are a few people that I just did not get decent pictures of. Damn it! — it's too late to get them now. I apologize to Krystal and Chris, Helmut and Monica, and Dusan, because this is their story too. It was a good time and fun getting to know you, all of you.

I'm Out of Africa

That about brings my Africa story to a close. We Alaskans had a very nice dinner at the posh Safari Club a few miles out of town on our last night together. This restaurant has a lighted water hole where a number of elephants magically appeared, almost on cue, just as we were finishing dinner. Elizabeth told us she had decided to grab a different truck and head to Botswana for her remaining time in Africa while Willy and Jambo had elected to fly to Jo'berg to see what mischief they could get into there. I caught a ride back to Lusaka and was back in Bangkok a few days later.

In all we traveled approximately 2400 miles (~3900 km) during this particular trip, the Nairobi-Victoria Falls 21-day safari with the Africa Travel Company. We traveled from about 1.5 degrees south latitude to about 18 degrees south and visited 5 countries along the way: Kenya, Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia, and Zimbabwe. It was the first time I've ever traveled with a touring company and as I said before, it had its good points and bad. I really prefer traveling on my own, meeting people by chance, and having unplanned adventures. Yet, I met some wonderful people and found it an easy way to see a fair piece of Africa with a minimum of hassles.

On the road back - Zambian countryside

For me, having just begun a new relationship, the time away was, well, you know, difficult. I missed Nut and wanted to get back to her as soon as possible after our trip ended. I missed the easy friendliness of Thailand and its fabulous food too. Not to fault Mr. Mwoi but we were camping after all. How can one compare the fabulous tom yum, som tam or pad thai available everywhere here with quick sandwich lunches and camp food? Well, we did have that tasty roast pig in Malawi, and BBQ steaks, and those nice curries. Africa isn't nearly as friendly as Thailand either. Perhaps because it's so impoverished and its people so needy. And the constant stream of street touts and panhandlers put me off too. Much worse than Cambodia even.  I'm reminded of something my buddy Al said to me last year during our motorcycle trip. He was getting ready to tour South America a few years ago, obtaining visa information and the like. He suddenly realized that he'd rather just come back to Thailand and be done with it. It has everything he wants in a winter getaway. It's sort of that way for me too, especially now.

So I'm back in Bangkok where I'm writing the final lines of this entry, the Africa part of my blog. What's next? No big plans.  Nut and I will take a short trip to visit an ancient temple near Bangkok but the bulk of my remaining time in Thailand will likely be spent right here in our place hanging round with my honey. I'm watching for Suzuki V-Strom motorcycles on Craigslist in Oregon. I want to do some touring when I get back stateside in early April and that means I'll probably head south to desert country and warmer temperatures; Arizona, New Mexico and southern California. Maybe I'll see you down there.

Africa - Malawi

Written in the Jomo Kenyatta Airport, Nairobi, February 9, 2011

As I mentioned earlier, Malawi is a beautiful country. The Malawians are very friendly and we are constantly waving our hands at smiling faces as our truck rolls by. In Kenya and Tanzania children almost always ran out to the roadside yelling and waving at us with great excitement and big smiles on their faces. But here in Malawi everyone waves: the woman carrying her wash out to the drying rack shifts her load to one arm so she can raise the other in greeting as we race along; the teenager riding a bike laden with charcoal or things from the market nods his head and smiles widely; the women clustered around the town pump doing their laundry pause to look up and wave; the workers hoeing weeds in their carefully tended fields of maize also wave. It becomes a sort of game to me to see who will wave first, me or them.

Doing the wash at the town pump - Malawi

Countryside view - Malawi

After traveling quite a bit by now in 3rd world countries I've become disdainful about outwardly friendly gestures made by locals on the streets. "Hello there. Where are you from?" In Africa especially you're constantly being pitched by street touts and hawkers to buy this or that; sometimes they just out and ask you to give them money. And they're persistent. This is very annoying to me and it got old fast. But these rural people are not asking for anything, cannot ask for anything. They do it because they're friendly and I believe, happy. When you see the beautiful farm plots, the carefully swept yards, the simple but neat brick houses, the smiling faces, you must conclude that something good is happening in Malawi. I've talked to more than one of my fellow travelers who told me they experienced a twinge of real emotion -- "tears filled my eyes" one friend said -- as they took in the reality of being made to feel welcome in such a genuine fashion. These people will never see us again. We cannot give them anything but a return wave. And that seems to be just fine. Malawi was one of the high points of my safari.

Malawi fields and farms are neat and weed free

Along the road in Malawi

We stopped for a bag of charcoal along the road somewhere just north of our first stop at Chitimba Camp on Lake Malawi. On that day Mwangi happened to have had his iPod plugged into the truck's sound system so there was reggae music playing when our camp chef, Mr. Mwoi, jumped out to buy the charcoal. Kids appeared from everywhere and began dancing alongside our truck. Beautiful kids, smiling kids, happy kids. It was wonderful!

Kids greet us at a stop for charcoal (video below)

Happy kids running alongside our truck

We spent two nights at each of two campgrounds on Lake Malawi, Chitimba Camp and Kande Beach. They were a welcome and enjoyable interlude in our ambitious schedule. The overland tours all work this way I suspect. We race across many miles of less interesting country to spend time in the nicer areas; four days on Zanzibar, the three day side trip to Ngonongoro and the Serengeti, and now these four days on Lake Malawi. At Kande Beach the water was crystal clear and warm and there was a volleyball net on the beach. It was ragged and sagged quite a bit but people had a great time of it. We had taken up a collection so Mwangi could make punch that first night at Kande. He bought 3 bottles of Malawi rum, lots of vodka and gin, some brandy and assorted fruit juices. When he was finished we literally had a barrel of strong punch to drink after dinner. Some of us later that evening unintentionally learned where this mixture got its name.

Mwangi gets help making the punch from Liz and Kelsy

After dinner and with the barrel of punch under our belts we adjourned to the bar for more alcohol inspired "conversation" and other party type behavior. Before too long one of the Canadian gals was up on the bar dancing. Soon the bar was crowded with dancing campers. It ended up being quite a late night. I see now why Mwangi arranged our party for the first day of our two day visit. He's been there and done that before. It got windy later on and a light rain began to fall. I like a bit of weather, especially when the rain is so warm, so I took a walk out to the water's edge to ruminate on my Africa trip. We had a great crew and some wonderful people to travel with. I view our contingent in groups according to where they're from. Hence we had the Canadians, the English, the Aussies, the Kiwis, the Austrians and the Alaskans. And one guy from the Czech Republic. Desan lives and works in New Zealand so I include him in that group. We also had a wide range of ages, a good thing I reckon. Herb, one of the Aussies, from Perth, and I were the elders with a retired couple from Austria, Helmut and Monica, not far behind. We had several good people from England, Helen and Katy, and Peter, some middle aged folks from Australia, Wayne and Sandra, who were traveling with their 18 year old son, Stuart, another young Aussie couple, Jamie and Lisa, Pixie from Perth who was on her way back to Australia to begin college, Chris and Amy from New Zealand, and the Canadians, Andrew, Kathleen, Shannon, Liz, Kelsy, Dave, and Crystal.

I recalled the day we all met back in Nairobi for our orientation meeting. As I scanned the room my gaze stopped at Liz, Shannon and Kathleen who were chattering away with their friends, Dave and Andrew and thought, Oh shit, there's a bunch of twenty-somethings! Little did I know at the time how interesting and friendly these recently graduated Canadian lawyers would be. Or that Dave would be offering me a helping hand when our raft overturned in the Zambezi River a few weeks later.

I had this thought too: I am making friends. I love meeting new people and that's perhaps the best thing that can happen when you travel. Travel takes you out of your everyday sometimes hum-drum existence and puts you in situations where you will make connections with people. My Africa experience wasn't perfect but the folks I met on the tour were certainly cool.

I felt my shirt starting to soak through so I edged my way back to the bar. Jamie and Lisa were still there lip syncing to some songs by the Choir Boys and a group calling themselves Powderfinger. How, I wondered, did it happen that this bar in the middle of Malawi had songs these guys knew so well? I later learned they had connected their iPod to the bar's speaker system. DOH! Jamie and Lisa "closed the bar" that evening.

Next day was another beauty although most of us missed the sunrise, myself included. That evening I can tell you there was a quite bit less drinking going on. Some of us played volleyball and some were content to simply watch the beautiful sunset with a beer in one hand and a camera in the other. That night Mwoi and the crew surprised us with a treat for dinner. All day long I had been watching out of one corner of my eye some guys in a nearby campsite roasting a small pig over a charcoal fire. I hadn't guessed it was gonna be our pig roast. Mr. Mwoi did himself proud when he served us platefuls of roast pork, baked potatoes, and a delicious bowl of curried fresh greens. I had a couple more beers and turned in early. We'd need to be up at the crack of dawn for our border crossing into Zambia.

Volleyball game on Kande Beach

Our fabulous Africa Travel Co. crew relaxing : Mwoi (cook), Mwangi (captain), and Nick (driver)

Sunset at Kande Beach - Malawi