tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20817807744229510262024-02-07T05:48:34.592-06:00Global Goebel TravelsBe Inspired To Explore. Global Goebel is a travel blog specializing in remote and unique destinations around the world.Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-78776821517568302022013-06-25T23:48:00.000-05:002013-06-25T23:48:01.695-05:00Please visit my new blog locationFrom this point forward, I will no longer be updating this blogspot version of Global Goebel. To continue reading about my travel adventures, please visit my new self-hosted site:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/">www.GlobalGoebel.com</a></div>
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-89230003527836866662013-05-20T20:33:00.000-05:002013-05-21T15:04:21.713-05:00Beeing Attacked In Bagan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8114859405/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Temples of Bagan by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Temples of Bagan" height="428" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8329/8114859405_a11c8400fa_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Bagan is an ancient city in Burma (also known as Myanmar). There are literally thousands of temples and pagodas that dot the Burmese countryside in the area. While some of these temples are popular tourist attractions, many of the smaller ones are rarely visited just because there are other more impressive temples nearby.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Everything about Bagan resonates with beauty, tradition, and peacefulness..... until you get attacked by a swarm of bees, and it becomes the setting for one of the scariest moments of your life. This is what nightmares are made of.</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/masochismtango/8333835755/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Field by masochismtango, on Flickr"><img alt="Field" height="334" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8358/8333835755_680cf88841.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Bagan Temple</i></b><br />
<i>(Photo by "<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/masochismtango/8333835755/" target="_blank">masochismtango" on Flickr</a>)</i></td></tr>
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We were stopped in front of a temple that was one of the lesser preserved ones. Weeds had overtaken much of the area inside the enclosed courtyard. I climbed on top of a mound of dirt and then a brick wall in an attempt to get a better view for a photograph, but just wasn't satisfied with the views I was finding. My guide suggested we go to a small temple nearby to try to get a better view. The temple looked like it had a small balcony on the second level.<br />
<br />
Inside the unnamed temple was a small stairway leading up into darkness. It looked like the stairs went halfway up to the second level and then took a 90-degree turn to the left. Beyond that, there was only darkness.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/0x/907327440/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Stairs by Hella Delicious, on Flickr"><img alt="Stairs" height="240" src="http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1071/907327440_ba21669fc6_m.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Typical Bagan stairway</i></b><br />
<i>(Photo by "Hella Delicious" on Flickr)</i></td></tr>
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I got my Petzl headlamp out of my backpack. The height of the passageway was only a few feet high, so I had to crouch down just to fit inside. I started slowly walking up the stairs, my guide following behind me. The clearance was so low that my backpack kept scraping the ceiling. At the same time, it was really narrow. My thin body barely fit through. The stairway felt more like a cave. My headlamp became almost useless, since I had to keep my head down to prevent hitting it on the low ceiling. It was not a place for claustrophobic people or those that are afraid of the dark.<br />
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"Are you okay, Mr. Ryan? Can you fit through? Do you want me carry your backpack?" asked Win, my Burmese guide.<br />
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"I'm fine. I can squeeze through."<br />
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A little way after the lefthand turn, the passageway turned back to the right. That explained the extreme darkness of this particular stairway, compared to the ones where you can usually see some light seeping in from the exit at the top.<br />
<br />
There were some buzzing sounds as I approached the final turn in the stairs. I assumed the sound was from just a few flies.<br />
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I saw some light peaking through, so I must've been near the top. The passageway was even more narrow here, so I had to completely tuck my head down and crawl. I couldn't see anything ahead of me.<br />
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My backpack caught on something. I gave a little push to get through, and suddenly I was on the rooftop balcony.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aussiegall/421866373/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Trapped by aussiegall, on Flickr"><img alt="Trapped" height="226" src="http://farm1.staticflickr.com/156/421866373_607473972b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aussiegall/421866373/" target="_blank">"aussiegall" on Flickr</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But I wasn't alone...<br />
<br />
There were several bees buzzing around my head.<br />
<br />
I looked behind me and saw a beehive right at the opening to the stairs. My backpack must have hit it on the way out.<br />
<br />
"Win, there are a bunch of bees up here! Don't come up!" I shouted.<br />
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I quickly moved to the far side of the balcony.<br />
<br />
The balcony was only about 2 meters by 3 meters. It was small. There was nowhere to run.<br />
<br />
"Are you okay?" asked Win.<br />
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"I think so. But don't come up here."<br />
<br />
Most of the bees were hovering around their hive, but a small army had followed me to the far side of the balcony.<br />
<br />
"Ouch!"<br />
<br />
One of the bees stung me on the neck.<br />
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I paced back and forth quickly and swung my arms around at the bees to shoo them away.<br />
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Eventually, the bees gave up and left me alone.<br />
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"Win, is there another way down?" I asked.<br />
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"No, I think this is the only way."<br />
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I looked over the edge of the balcony. There was at least a 4-meter drop to the ground on all sides. I briefly contemplated climbing down the brick walls, but there didn't seem to be very good footholds<br />
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"Win, what should I do? I don't want to go back through those stairs. How should I get down?"<br />
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At this point, Win was laying on his stomach near the top of the stairs. I could see his hand reaching up.<br />
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"I think you can make it if you crouch down low underneath the hive. Hand me your backpack so you can crouch lower."<br />
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I hesitantly approached the entranceway. I wasn't sure if I was ready to crawl underneath that hive yet.<br />
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As I handed by backpack to Win, the bees began to swarm around their hive more actively.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/runnerwill/491305092/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Buzzier by Will_wildlife, on Flickr"><img alt="Buzzier" height="227" src="http://farm1.staticflickr.com/222/491305092_0c1e1681ba_z.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/runnerwill/491305092/" target="_blank">"Will_wildlife" on Flickr</a>)</i></td></tr>
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I backed away quickly as Win pulled my backpack down the stairs to safety.<br />
<br />
It was only me and the bees left up there now.<br />
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"Are you coming?" shouted Win.<br />
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"Yes, I'm just waiting for the bees to calm down again," I said as I focused on my breathing. I didn't want to panic.<br />
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I slowly approached the doorway, staying low and putting my feet forward.<br />
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I briefly contemplated whether to slide down on my back or to crawl on my stomach.<br />
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I decided to go on my back. I was too afraid to turn my head away from the bees and their hive.<br />
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As I inched my legs underneath the hive, hundreds of bees came flying out of the hive.<br />
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I looked down and my pants were completely covered in bees!<br />
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<i>OH.... SH*T!</i><br />
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I jumped up and started running circle around the small balcony.<br />
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"Win, they're all over me!!!"<br />
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"The bees.... there are thousands of them!" I screamed.<br />
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<i>Where could I go? The only advice about bees that I could remember was to run, but there wasn't anywhere to run up there.</i><br />
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I spun around, flailing my arms around my head like a madman.<br />
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I felt a sting on my arm. <br />
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<i>Damn, that hurts!</i><br />
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A few bees crawled on my face. I closed my mouth so they wouldn't get inside.<br />
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I hoped I wasn't allergic to bee stings. I'd never been stung by multiple bees and couldn't even remember the last time I had a bee sting. It was probably close to thirty years ago. <br />
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I shooed the bees off my face and started screaming.<br />
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I didn't want to die of bee stings on top of a temple in the middle of Burma.<br />
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By some miracle, a local farmer was walking through a nearby field and heard my screams. He started running towards the temple.<br />
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I continued to run circles around the top of the temple, convinced that I was going to be stung to death.<br />
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The next thing I knew, the farmer appeared on top of the balcony with me. He was smoking a cigar and holding a small, leafy tree branch and a machete. This guy had come to save my life, although I wasn't sure what good the machete would be against a swarm of bees.<br />
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He motioned for me to calm down. Then, he started blowing cigar smoke at me and waving the leaves to chase the bees away.<br />
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After he was satisfied that he had chased enough bees away, he signaled to me that he wanted me to crouch down as low as I could in the far corner of the balcony.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.srh.noaa.gov/images/jax/tornado_crouch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="121" src="http://www.srh.noaa.gov/images/jax/tornado_crouch.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>The "kiss my butt goodbye"</i></b><br />
<b><i>tornado crouch position</i></b></td></tr>
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I got into a position similar to how they teach you to crouch during tornado drills in school. He blew some more cigar smoke around me.<br />
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As he moved toward the hive, the farmer lit a second cigar. He puffed on both cigars until they were both producing plenty of smoke. When he was close to the hive, he started blowing smoke directly into the hive to subdue the bees. Then, he waved the leaves at the hive and what seemed like thousand of bees came flying out.<br />
<br />
<i>Maybe I should've asked him for a cigar for myself.</i><br />
<br />
But, I didn't need it. The entire swarm of bees flew right over my head and kept going.<br />
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I watched as the farmer waved away some straggling bees. He motioned for me to hurry over and get down the stairs before any bees came back.<br />
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When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Win handed me a bottle and asked if I was okay.<br />
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I was barely able to mutter a "yes". I was starting to choke up with tears, not tears from the stings, but tears from the joy of this random farmer showing up and saving me.<br />
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When the farmer joined me and Win on the lower floor of the temple, Win explained to me that the farmer was in the area collecting honey from various beehives in the area. When he heard my screams, he knew it could only be one thing.<br />
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I was still pretty shaken up, but said "jay zu bay (thank you)" over and over again while I shook his hand and handed him a 10,000 kyat note (about $11 USD). <br />
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I never got the name of the farmer, but I'll be eternally grateful that he was walking past the temple that day as I got attacked by bees.<br />
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Despite being nearly fully covered by bees at one point, I amazingly escaped with only three or four bee stings.<br />
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I do believe in miracles now.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/max_westby/63982702/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Bee Beard 2 by Max xx, on Flickr"><img alt="Bee Beard 2" height="400" src="http://farm1.staticflickr.com/25/63982702_26a3b30408.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>I felt like this at one point</i></b><br />
<b><i>...except not quite as calm</i></b><br />
<i>(Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/max_westby/63982702/" target="_blank">"Max xx" on Flickr</a>)</i></td></tr>
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<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
Global Goebel's Bagan Notes and Tips:</h3>
<ul>
<li>If it's within your budget, I recommend staying at the Hotel @ Tharabar Gate. Besides being an excellent hotel, the hotel has best location in Bagan for being close to the best temples. Also, the included breakfast buffet is the best breakfast in the Bagan area. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Again, if you it's within your budget, take a hot air balloon ride over the temples at sunrise with <a href="http://www.easternsafaris.com/balloonsoverbagan_home.html" target="_blank">Balloons Over Bagan</a>. It's truly a magical experience.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>If you have more than one day (which you should), hire a guide on the first day so you can get a good feel for the layout of the temples and some useful background information. For subsequent days, rent a bicycle and explore the temples on your own. Don't be afraid to just get lost and wander around some random temples.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>The Lonely Planet, Trip Advisor, and everywhere else recommend The Moon Vegetarian Restaurant. I admit that it's really good (even if you aren't a vegetarian). However, I highly recommend you also try Star Beam Restaurant (also known as "Star Beans Restaurant") right next to it. It tends to be less crowded, but the food is every bit as good, if not better. They even have freshly baked baguettes. </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>Bring plenty of water with you when you head out for a day of exploring the temples. It can get really hot in the middle of the day.</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>I found the sunset cruise on the river to be overrated. Due to the direction of the sunset, the only good views are of other boats full of tourists. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>On the other hand, watching the sun set from Pyathada Paya is well worth it. Be sure to bring a flashlight or headlamp with you, since it can be very dark on your way back to the hotel after the sun sets.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>If you have a guide or someone else with you and you are going up a dark, narrow stairway, let them go first so they run into the bees before you do.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>And on the note of bees: Supposedly, cigar smoke helps to calm them. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>One more note on bees: If all else fails..... RUN! (just hope that you're not on a small temple balcony)</li>
</ul>
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You can view all my photos from Burma by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157631731066669/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
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<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/local-guides-burma-bagan.html">Global Goebel Travels: Local Guides: Burma - Bagan</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-4-lenana-peak.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 4: Lenana Peak, Reaching The Summit</a><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i></div>
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/one-day-in-bahrain.html">Global Goebel Travels: One Day In Bahrain</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/travel-tip-currency-exchange-in-burma.html">Global Goebel Travels: Travel Tip: Currency Exchange in Burma</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/how-to-get-myanmar-burma-visa-in-bangkok_9.html">Global Goebel Travels: Travel Tip: How to get a Burmese visa in Bangkok</a><br />
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<b>Have you ever been attacked by bees? What's the scariest experience you've had while traveling? Tell me about it in the comments section below.</b><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8393570629/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Myanmar Lager Beer by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Myanmar Lager Beer" height="200" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8472/8393570629_27e84e5d25_z.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Myanmar lager tastes especially<br />good after being attacked by bees.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><br /></b>Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Bridgetown, Barbados13.098938 -59.6133520000000213.037076500000001 -59.694033000000019 13.1607995 -59.532671000000022tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-68153533289911525932013-05-15T19:45:00.001-05:002013-05-15T19:46:09.056-05:00Through My Lens: Mongolia<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4824677755/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Ger in the Grassland by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Ger in the Grassland" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4136/4824677755_347ff5aed3_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ger near Kharkhorin.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4824677755/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
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<br />
A couple years ago, I decided to take a last minute trip (only two weeks notice) to Mongolia to see the Naadam festival and to experience the vast openness of this primarily nomadic nation. It was a trip where I felt I grew a lot as a photographer. When I returned home after the trip, I was happy that I had captured my best photo set ever up to that point in time. Looking back, there are definitely some good photos in the set, but it's pretty obvious to me that my post-processing skills were still fairly amateur (and have come a long way since). However, like most things in life, practice makes perfect.<br />
<br />
These are some of the photos I took during my trip to Mongolia.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4831949921/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Rows and Rows of Houses... Walls Painted Blue by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Rows and Rows of Houses... Walls Painted Blue" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4149/4831949921_1002c60335_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soviet-era apartment housing blocks in Ulaanbaatar.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4831949921/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4827402490/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Ouch! - A Mongolian Contortionist by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Ouch! - A Mongolian Contortionist" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4115/4827402490_0bdb7bc2a4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Contortionist at the Tumen Ekh Song & Dance Ensemble at the State Youth & Children's Theatre in Ulaanbaatar.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4827402490/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4867344033/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="UAZ Van by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="UAZ Van" height="640" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4118/4867344033_3d63db315e_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These UAZ (Ulyanovsky Avtomobilny Zavod) vans seem to be all over Mongolia.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4867344033/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4828162851/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Wild Bunch by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Wild Bunch" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4119/4828162851_9b387cf225_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some Mongolian cowboys (and one cowgirl) arrive at the Kharkhorin Naadam.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4828162851/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4828162859/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Like a Bird by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Like a Bird" height="640" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4101/4828162859_f191713a21_z.jpg" width="443" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Mongolia wrestler dances like a bird after winning a match at the Kharkhorin Naadam.<br />
This tradition of dancing like a bird is performed around the flag pole by the wrestlers<br />
before and after each match.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4828162859/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4835231135/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="My Best Friend in Tsenkher by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="My Best Friend in Tsenkher" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4150/4835231135_3c808798a0_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This 70-year old man, named Chuluunbat, befriended me at the Naadam festival in Tsenkher.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4835231135/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4830848042/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Airag (Mongolian Fermented Mare's Milk) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Airag (Mongolian Fermented Mare's Milk)" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4099/4830848042_76a792d961_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Airag (Mongolian Fermented Mare's Milk) tastes like sour milk mixed with wine.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4830848042/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4835231143/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="VIP View of Naadam by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="VIP View of Naadam" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4108/4835231143_036460a9bc_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the view from the VIP section at the Tsenkher Naadam.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4835231143/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4835231157/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Mongolian Wrestling at the Tsenkher Naadam by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Mongolian Wrestling at the Tsenkher Naadam" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4106/4835231157_b38f5b3e9a_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mongolian Wrestling at the Tsenkher Naadam<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4835231157/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4867344041/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Mongolian Wildflowers by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Mongolian Wildflowers" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4095/4867344041_ea7798eaef_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mongolian Wildflowers<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4867344041/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4849254604/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Closest I Got To Seeing Mongolian Archery by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Closest I Got To Seeing Mongolian Archery" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4135/4849254604_fa762e3b9c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TV Interview For The Tsetserleg Naadam Archery Champion<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4849254604/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4849254610/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Winning Horse by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Winning Horse" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4079/4849254610_f93af33875_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The horse trainer rides out to meet his winning horse and its rider at the Naadam festival in Tsetserleg.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4849254610/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4867344049/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Dusk at the Ekh Baigali ger camp by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Dusk at the Ekh Baigali ger camp" height="443" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4137/4867344049_1d30253181_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dusk at the Ekh Baigali Ger Camp<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4867344049/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4865273569/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="A Three Hour Tour.... by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="A Three Hour Tour...." height="640" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4101/4865273569_5891919843_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat Tour On Lake Khovsgol<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4865273569/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4824374534/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Fisheye View of Parliament House by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Fisheye View of Parliament House" height="640" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4077/4824374534_257bb6f216_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parliament House In Ulaanbaatar<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4824374534/in/set-72157624572062772/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>* * * * * * * </i></div>
<br />
<i>My trip to Mongolia was a private trip booked through <a href="http://boojum.com/" target="_blank">Boojum Expeditions</a>. I highly recommend their services for anyone heading to Mongolia.</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * *</div>
<br />
You can view all my photos from Mongolia and the rest of our trip to Brazil by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157624572062772/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * * </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/05/through-my-lens-brasilia.html">Global Goebel Travels: Through My Lens: Brasilia</a><br />
<i> </i></div>
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/local-guides-burma-bagan.html">Global Goebel Travels: Local Guides: Burma - Bagan</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/the-story-behind-photo-heart-of.html">Global Goebel Travels: The Story Behind The Photo: The Heart of Darkness - Nyiragongo Volcano</a><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i></div>
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/one-day-in-bahrain.html">Global Goebel Travels: One Day In Bahrain</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/the-story-behind-photo-door-to-hell.html">Global Goebel Travels: The Story Behind The Photo: "Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * * </div>
<br />
<b>Have you ever been to Mongolia? How did you like it?</b>Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0St. Rose, IL, USA38.7149329 -89.5308903000000138.615792400000004 -89.692251800000008 38.8140734 -89.369528800000012tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-47388895841450999622013-05-10T04:01:00.002-05:002013-05-17T21:00:57.428-05:00My Adventure With Indiana At Petra<br />
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<img border="0" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8114/8654035151_1c0ce3b40f_z.jpg" /></div>
<br />
When I found a creative and cheap way to add <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/one-day-in-bahrain.html" target="_blank">Bahrain</a> and Petra onto my <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-1-burguret-route.html" target="_blank">Kenya</a> and <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html" target="_blank">Tanzania</a> trip, I jumped at it. The ancient city of Petra had been on my travel bucket list pretty much
ever since I learned that the place where Indiana Jones finds the holy
grail in "The Last Crusade" is actually a <i>real</i> place. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTzeMXEsCpiQZNjaflDq2pDsN3MkeQr-cFcwyeGKZaK4KiPMuv_Bv5qQB3wNd_-Tcozh_uvANQBBSM_yTaKkyFem9TLTzaOsiOCKNvuHYH-Fc8dCbGEwRyRsq1aKtuneagiN_79k-Skg/s1600/BFJleK0CMAA-2zq.jpg_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTzeMXEsCpiQZNjaflDq2pDsN3MkeQr-cFcwyeGKZaK4KiPMuv_Bv5qQB3wNd_-Tcozh_uvANQBBSM_yTaKkyFem9TLTzaOsiOCKNvuHYH-Fc8dCbGEwRyRsq1aKtuneagiN_79k-Skg/s200/BFJleK0CMAA-2zq.jpg_large.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Passport porn.</i><br />
<i>Does this turn you on too?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Waiting in the visa-on-arrival line at the Queen Alia International Airport, I struck up a conversation with an American girl in front of me. Besides the standard small talk, she saw how thick my passport was and asked if she could talk a look at it. As any gentleman would do, I handed over my passport to her so she could flip through the pages and pages of stamps on her own. Around the time she saw my Brazil and Burundi visas on back-to-back pages, she proclaimed, "I'm married and all, but I have to admit that your passport is turning me on." <br />
<br />
<i>Okay, I admit that really isn't pertinent information about my trip to Petra, but it's too good of a quote to not publish.</i><br />
<br />
I handed over my 20 Jordanian Dinars (about $30 USD) and was granted entry into the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.<br />
<br />
Since my time was limited in Jordan, I had pre-booked a driver from the Movenpick Resort Petra to pick me up at the airport. The friendly driver seemed pretty chatty and was amazed that our names were so similar (Rayan vs. Ryan). He asked if I was Muslim. I had to explain to him that Ryan is a very common name in the English-speaking, non-Muslim world. And then I had to politely tell him that I was more interested in sleeping than in talking.<br />
<br />
He let me sleep, and the next thing I knew it was 1am. We had arrived in the town of Wadi Musa. After checking into the hotel, I went to bed immediately, since I was determined to wake up early and make the most of my day at Petra.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * *</div>
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Even though it was 5:55am, I was a little bit surprised that there wasn't anybody else standing around the entrance gate to the Petra Archaeological Park. I was also surprised at how cold it was.<br />
<br />
Like Angkor, Bagan, and many other archaeological sites, the entrance fee to Petra is one of the most expensive things in the country. My one-day pass cost 50 Jordanian Dinar (about $70 USD). However, being a sucker for almost any archaeological site, I gladly paid the guy at the ticket window when he opened it. Besides, that was a small investment to pay for a chance to drink from the holy grail and be granted eternal life.<br />
<br />
Soon after walking through the gate, a stray dog trotted up along side of me. Anyone that knows me is aware that I'm not much of a dog person, and I admit that I considered chasing him away. However, he seemed content to trot next to me and happily wag his tail. Maybe he was my reward for being the first person through the gate on this particular day. I decided to name him Indiana.<br />
<br />
<i>In "Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade", Sean Connery (aka Henry Jones) reveals that Indiana Jones's real name was Henry Jones Jr., but "Junior" preferred to be called Indiana, which was actually the family dog's name.</i><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8700069765/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="My Complimentary Guard Dog by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="My Complimentary Guard Dog" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8137/8700069765_8baffeb559_z.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Indiana, my complementary guide / bodyguard</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Since there wasn't a single other tourist in sight, Indiana quickly became my best friend as we walked through the narrow canyon known as the Siq. He bravely led the way through the narrow passageway, occasionally looking up at me to make sure that I was still following him. On several occasions, I tried to take his photo, but he would shyly look away as soon as my camera pointed in his direction.<br />
<br />
Even though there weren't any other tourists yet, there were several of the park employees that were arriving and walking briskly through the Siq on their way to their posts inside the park. Despite Indiana's shyness, he was never afraid to protect me from these potential threats. Whenever anyone got within 20 feet of me, Indiana would bark and growl until the "bad guys" were a safe distance away from me. I secretly hoped that Indiana would do this all day long so that I wouldn't have to worry about any souvenir hawkers or donkey guides hassling me later on in the day.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8571883936/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Siq by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Siq" height="640" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8085/8571883936_4266cc07c4_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Siq</i></td></tr>
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After about 20 minutes of walking through the narrow Siq, Al-Khazneh (more commonly known as The Treasury, or the place where Indiana Jones found the holy grail) came into view. Indiana and I stood there, mesmerized by this magnificent site. It's hard to believe that this huge building is carved into a wall of solid rock. I took the time to relish the moment of being the only person standing in front of The Treasury, since I knew that hoards of other tourists would be showing up within a couple hours.<br />
<br />
Eventually, another tourist came ambling through the Siq. It turned out that he was on his second day of visiting Petra, so I picked his brain about some of his tips of what to see during my one day there. Indiana must have been jealous that I was talking to someone else, because he started gnawing on the guy's leg. It was at that point where I had to betray my best friend and chase him away.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * *</div>
<br />
Later in the day, I ran into Indiana hanging out with some other dogs. He pretended to ignore me. Obviously, dogs are not man's best friend; dogs are dogs' best friends.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8571884030/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="I Spy The Treasury by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="I Spy The Treasury" height="640" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8243/8571884030_7a4f502136_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>There it is -- the home of the holy grail. (aka, The Treasury)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Needless to say, I never did find the holy grail that day, nor was I granted eternal life. I'm blaming Indiana. I think he and his fellow dog friends are actually descendants of the Knights Templar, and they hid the grail from me since I wouldn't let Indiana eat the other tourist's leg.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * *<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8701232922/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Royal Tombs by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Royal Tombs" height="360" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8123/8701232922_6a5f5ac895_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Royal Tombs</i></td></tr>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Global Goebel's Petra Notes and Tips:</h3>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Get there early so you can witness the beauty of Petra before the tourist crowds and souvenir vendors arrive. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Bring a hat and sunscreen, but also a sweater or light jacket. The sun can be intense, but the mornings can be especially cool.</li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Wear good walking shoes.</li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Drink lots of water. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Take the Al-Khubtha Trail up and over the Royal Tombs to get an amazing view of The Treasury from above.</li>
</ul>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8701148588/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Above the Treasury by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Above the Treasury" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8139/8701148588_ae7488c447_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The view of The Treasury from the Al-Khubtha Trail</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>The hike to the Monastery is well worth it.</li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>The Bedouin vendors and hawkers inside the park aren't as annoying as I was warned. Usually, a polite "no thanks" was enough for them to go away. There are much more annoying hawkers at most other big tourists sites in the world.</li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>There are a couple places with signs pointing to "The Best View In The World". In my opinion, the view wasn't that spectacular and could've easily been skipped.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8700040581/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Monastery by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Monastery" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8266/8700040581_f6294ef44e_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Monastery</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>The salami sandwich at the cafe in front of The Monastery was more like a baloney pita. However, the cafe's mint tea and pomegranate juice were both excellent.</li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>If you have more than a day to spare, you can buy a two-day pass to Petra for 55 Dinar or a three-day pass for 60 Dinar. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>I wish I would have had more time to explore Amman, the Dead
Sea, Wadi Rum, and other places in Jordan, but one day at Petra still made the trip worthwhile. </li>
</ul>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8701222958/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Theatre by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Theatre" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8121/8701222958_938149ca36_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Theatre</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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You can view all my photos from Petra by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157633031382587/with/8701148588/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<br />
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<b>Have you ever been to Petra? Tell me about it in the comments section below.</b><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8701207368/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Great Temple by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Great Temple" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8547/8701207368_f01212bfae_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Great Temple</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com3Jakarta, Indonesia-6.211544 106.84517200000005-6.464102 106.52244850000005 -5.958986 107.16789550000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-36158503292521612342013-05-05T18:00:00.000-05:002013-05-07T01:29:43.473-05:00Through My Lens: Brasilia<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/7055370469/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Brasilia by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Brasilia" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7054/7055370469_191841bce1_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of Brasilia from the TV Tower observatory.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/7055370469/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
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Last year, I took a trip to Brazil with my dad and my uncle. One of the places we visited was the capital city of Brasilia. I had read in various blogs, articles, and guidebooks that this city is written off by a lot of travelers as being too boring. However, as a fan of architecture and photography, Brasilia quickly become one of my favorite cities in South America.<br />
<br />
These are some of the photos I took during our day in Brasilia.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6836317364/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Kubitschek Memorial by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Kubitschek Memorial" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6836317364_14f247764a_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kubitschek Memorial<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6836317364/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6979521539/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Abstract by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Abstract" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7179/6979521539_33ca0c99d6_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A reflection under the Oscar Niemeyer-designed pavilion at the Brazilian military headquarters.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6979521539/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6836317106/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Lobby of the "Caixa Econômica Federal" Building by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Lobby of the "Caixa Econômica Federal" Building" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7058/6836317106_9e09f88994_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lobby of the "Caixa Econômica Federal" Building<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6836317106/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6838392670/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Brasilia's Catedral Metropolitana by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Brasilia's Catedral Metropolitana" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7195/6838392670_17e49e7832_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brasilia's Catedral Metropolitana<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6838392670/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6844264580/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Angels by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Angels" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7199/6844264580_7e2517fd4e_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angels hanging from the ceiling of La Catedral Metropolitana.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6844264580/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6984515001/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Toy Cars? by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Toy Cars?" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7196/6984515001_e050a9684c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cars parked on the streets in front of the Ministério da Justiça. <br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6984515001/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6984514591/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Stairs of Foreign Affairs [Explored] by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Stairs of Foreign Affairs [Explored]" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7197/6984514591_fb96cfe737_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stairs inside the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, one of many of Oscar Niemeyer's designs in the city.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6984514591/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/7053217653/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Dom Bosco Sanctuary Brasilia by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Dom Bosco Sanctuary Brasilia" height="427" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5156/7053217653_00a4b861cf_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dom Bosco Sanctuary <br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/7053217653/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6977889591/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Congresso Nacional by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Congresso Nacional" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7066/6977889591_ce47e26f4c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congresso Nacional<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6977889591/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6984515239/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Congresso Nacional by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Congresso Nacional" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7049/6984515239_0e5eea3f64_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is where the Brazilian Senate (in the dome on the left) and Chamber of Deputies (in the cup on the right) meet.<br />
To view larger version: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6984515239/in/set-72157629573483723/lightbox/" target="_blank">Click Here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>* * * * * * * </i></div>
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<i>In Brasilia, our city tour was given by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/mrbrasiliatours" target="_blank">Billy Deeter, aka "Mr. Brasilia"</a>. I highly recommend his services to anyone visiting this unique city.</i><br />
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<a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6836317364_14f247764a_s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6836317364_14f247764a_s.jpg" /></a><br />
You can view all my photos from Brasilia and the rest of our trip to Brazil by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157629573483723/with/7055370469/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/the-story-behind-photo-heart-of.html">Global Goebel Travels: The Story Behind The Photo: The Heart of Darkness - Nyiragongo Volcano</a><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i></div>
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<b>Have you ever been to Brasilia? What did you think of the city?</b>Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Jakarta, Indonesia-6.211544 106.84517200000005-6.716652 106.19972500000004 -5.706436 107.49061900000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-60278895085225159292013-04-29T05:02:00.001-05:002013-05-06T21:59:04.119-05:00My Top 10 Experiences In North Korea<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2961498634/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Giant Arirang Pig (20081008_0294) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Giant Arirang Pig (20081008_0294)" height="426" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3136/2961498634_5fd4a91baf_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Yes, this photo was really taken in North Korea.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Although it's been nearly five years since I went to North Korea as a
tourist, it's one of the countries that I get asked about the most. It's also one of the most unique and interesting places that I've ever visited.<br />
<br />
Since I haven't written a "Top 10" list on my blog yet and they seem to be popular on most other travel blogs, I'm going to give you "My Top 10 Experiences From North Korea".<br />
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<h3>
10. Seeing the DMZ from the North's side</h3>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2961444604/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Joint Security Area (20081008_0052) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Joint Security Area (20081008_0052)" height="160" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3010/2961444604_320c033d22_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The JSA in the DMZ viewed from the DPRK.</i></td></tr>
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The Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) is a strip of land running across the Korean peninsula that provides a buffer between the North and the South. It is the world's most heavily militarized border. Soldiers from both sides stand guard on their respective sides of the line, presumably 24 hours a day, seven days a week. There is a small section of the DMZ called the JSA (Joint Security Area) where there's a row of buildings that sit on top of the MDL (Military Demarcation Line, aka "the border"). It's in these buildings where any negotiations between the two sides since 1953 have occurred. Tour groups visit these buildings from both the North and the South, but groups from both sides are never allowed into the same building simultaneously. Inside the buildings, you can have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have one foot in North Korea and one foot in South Korea at the same time.<br />
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<h3>
9. Giving Cigarettes As Tips</h3>
Although I am strongly opposed to promoting smoking, I made an exception for my trip to the DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea -- the country's official name). We were told before the trip by our tour company that it is nice to bring a carton or two of Western brand cigarettes to give as a token of appreciation to the drivers and guides, since nearly all North Korean men smoke. (It was also suggested to bring chocolates, hand/face cream, or cosmetics for the female guides, since North Korean women do not smoke).<br />
<br />
As I was leaving Jakarta to fly to Beijing and onward to Pyongyang, I stopped by one of the duty free stores in the airport to buy a couple cartons of cigarettes. In my limited knowledge of cigarettes, I'm aware that Marlboro Reds conjure up images of American cowboys and are one of the most popular types globally, so I bought one carton of them. Then, as a lover of all things unusual, I saw that they were selling Camel Unfiltered cigarettes (probably since Indonesian men enjoy their nicotine and tar fix just as much as the Koreans). I'm not even sure if these things are available for sale in the US these days, so I bought a carton of them just because I could. Little did I know at the time that those Camel Unfiltered cigarettes would be so coveted in the DPRK.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://www.penguinbay.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/camel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.penguinbay.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/camel.jpg" /></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Good as gold in North Korea.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Along with most people in my group (most of which had brought Marlboro Reds), I decided to ration the cigarette packs and just hand them out one by one. On the first afternoon, I gave a pack each to our two male guides, the driver, and one of the guards at the DMZ whom I had my photo taken with.<br />
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The next day, I noticed Mr. Lee (the most senior of our three guides), holding a pack of Camel Unfiltered cigarettes, even though I distinctly remember only giving the Camels to the DMZ guard and to Hyon, another one of our guide whom I talked with the most. It turned out that the Camels were so coveted that Mr. Lee was traded two packs of Marlboro Reds for a pack of Camel Unfiltereds. After having a conversation with Hyon, I discovered that all of them actually preferred the Camel Unfiltered ones, and he told me that he hoped I had more packs of them to give out.<br />
<br />
From that point on, I only gave out the Camel Unfiltered cigarettes when I thought someone truly deserved a tip. If they were just begging for a tip and didn't really offer superior service, they just got Marlboro Reds.<br />
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<h3>
8. Exploring the Hyangsan Hotel on Mount Myohyang in the middle of the night</h3>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/zaruka/2945353501/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Hyangsan Hotel DPRK by Ray Cunningham, on Flickr"><img alt="Hyangsan Hotel DPRK" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3057/2945353501_094aa745a7_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo by Ray Cunningham</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We spent one night in the Hyangsan Hotel on Mount Myohyang. This huge hotel sits out in the middle of nowhere. It's brochure boasts of having a revolving restaurant, a dance hall, a karaoke room, a billiard room, a barber shop, and a stamp shop. <br />
<br />
A stay in this hotel could be incredibly boring, or you could make your own fun, as we did. For every perk that this hotel offers, there is a quirk that goes along with it. For instance, we had dinner in the rotating restaurant. Now, keep in mind, that the usual attraction of a rotating restaurant is the views it offers. Well, we had dinner after dark. Since this hotel is in the middle-of-nowhere DPRK, our evening views consisted of complete darkness out the windows. There wasn't even a single light that we could see in the distance. They may as well have spray painted black over the windows. Did I mention that the restaurant didn't rotate very smoothly? It would occasionally stall and then lurch forward. I think it had some bad gears. However, none of this interrupted our experience. We had a great time conversing with the guides and getting to know each other.<br />
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Another rotating restaurant quirky highlight was the bathroom. When I asked where the restroom was, I got pointed to a circular staircase going down the center core of the hotel. I was told to go down to a specific floor and open the door. When I got there, I noticed that the stairs kept going down further and was tempted to check out where they led, but I chickened out and rejoined dinner after relieving myself in the restroom. If you ever find yourself in this hotel, be sure to take a bathroom break. It's worth it for the journey into the core of the hotel.<br />
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Most of the group stuck around for some after dinner drinks. As more and more of the group started heading back to their rooms to get some sleep, I asked Hyon (one of our guides) what we should do after we finish drinking. His reply was, "After drinking, we go drinking!" And with that, he led the few of us remaining down to a small bar in the basement of the hotel. From there, we began a long night of exploring various "hidden" areas of this huge hotel. We had a massage in the spa (it wasn't very good), watched a couple guys (presumably hotel employees) playing billiards in the billiard room, considered going into the casino, and then just randomly roamed the empty halls of the hotel (many of which were dark, as if there wasn't any electricity). It felt like we were the only people in the hotel other than the hotel employees.<br />
<br />
One of our more bizarre encounters of the night was when we accidentally got off the elevator on the wrong floor. Instead of waiting for the elevator, we decided to take the stairs. On our way down, we came across a random Korean guy walking up the stairs. He didn't look at us nor acknowledge us. It was like he was a ghost. Suddenly, walking around this empty middle-of-nowhere hotel in the middle of the night felt like I was in the hotel from <i>The Shining</i>.<br />
<br />
If you have the pleasure of staying at the Hyangsan Hotel, I highly recommend not just retreating to your room to sleep after dinner. Explore the nooks and crannies of this place. It seems to have plenty of perks and quirks to offer.<br />
<br />
<i>[Update: I've been informed that the Hyangsan Hotel was recently remodeled. It's now fancier and has lost much of the "soul" that I described here.]</i><br />
<br />
<h3>
7. Seeing the Pyongyang traffic girls in action</h3>
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</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Pyongyang traffic girl doing her thing.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Who needs city traffic lights when you can have beautiful, young women in uniforms directing the traffic? Although there are a few traffic lights in Pyongyang now, most of the city's intersections are controlled by these "traffic girls". It's mesmerizing to watch them execute their robotic motions armed with only a baton, a whistle, and uniforms that were supposedly designed by Kim Jong Il himself. Even when there aren't any cars on the road (as is often the case in North Korea), they continue to go about their motions as if there is busy traffic coming from all directions in their intersection.<br />
<br />
<br />
There's even a webpage dedicated to them: <a href="http://www.pyongyangtrafficgirls.com/" target="_blank">www.PyongyangTrafficGirls.com</a> and a flickr photo group: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/pyongyangtrafficgirls/" target="_blank">Pyongyang Traffic Girls</a>.<br />
<br />
<h3>
6. Discussing movies with one of the guides</h3>
<table cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cache2.allpostersimages.com/p/LRG/56/5665/6J1UG00Z/posters/double-team.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://cache2.allpostersimages.com/p/LRG/56/5665/6J1UG00Z/posters/double-team.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Watching Van Damme and Rodman in action is essential<br />when you are studying American culture.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One evening while enjoying a few Taedonggang beers with one of the guides, I started asking him questions about how and why he became a tour guide. Among the requirements for being qualified to lead tours with American tourists was a class on American culture. He explained that in the class the instructor had them watch three movies to give them a better understanding of American culture. The movies included <i>Titanic</i> and <i>Double Team</i>. [Unfortunately, I can't remember the third movie they had to watch, but it was equally random]. I would probably become anti-American also if I had to sit through Dennis Rodman and Jean Claude Van Damme's bad acting for 90 minutes. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Oddly enough, Dennis Rodman has been in the news lately for having
befriended Kim Jong Un. The entire Kim family must be big fans of
Dennis Rodman. </i></blockquote>
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/74/YOLT_-_UK_cinema_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/74/YOLT_-_UK_cinema_poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Everybody loves James Bond.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I then asked the guide if he had seen any other American movies. He replied, "Do you know a guy named Bond, James Bond?"<br />
<br />
"Of course, I've seen several James Bond movies."<br />
<br />
"Oooohhhh.... you mean there's more than one movie with him?"<br />
<br />
"Ya, there's probably about 20 of them."<br />
<br />
"Wow!!! I've never seen a James Bond movie, but he sounds like he must be a very cool guy!"<br />
<br />
Then his voice lowered to a whisper as he asked, "Do you have any James Bond movies with you? I'd really like to see one."<br />
<br />
"Unfortunately, I don't have any James Bond movies with me on this trip. But you are right, James Bond is cool, and I think you'd really like him."<br />
<br />
<h3>
5. Eating dog soup</h3>
<i>[I apologize for everyone that this offends.]</i><br />
<br />
I'm a pretty adventurous eater when I travel. I like to experience bizarre foods just as much as Andrew Zimmern. I've eaten belut (duck fetus), crickets, spiders, hakarl (rotten shark), armadillo, horse, durian, raw whale meat, and haggis. You can imagine then how excited I was when I heard rumors that you could eat dog meat in North Korea. On our first night in the Yanggakdo Hotel in Pyongyang, I asked one of the guides if there was anywhere that I could eat dog meat.<br />
<br />
"Why do you ask?"<br />
<br />
"Because I want to try it."<br />
<br />
"In that case, I'll take you to the restaurant with the best dog meat soup in all of Korea."<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2960512661/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Dog Meat Soup (PA070144) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Dog Meat Soup (PA070144)" height="133" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3193/2960512661_cc26b18148_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Don't knock it until you try it.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"Awesome!"<br />
<br />
We then gathered up a few other adventurous souls in our group to head out to the "best dog meat soup restaurant in Pyongyang". I have to admit that we felt a bit bamboozled when he took us to one of the restaurants in the hotel. Although a bit disappointed (but not completely shocked) that we weren't going to be heading into the city for dog tasting, we sat down, ordered some Taedonggang beers, and a few bowls of dog meat soup.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if the dog meat soup at the Korean restaurant in the Yanggakdo Hotel is the best in Korea, but I have to admit that it is pretty damn good! The meat tasted like tender and tasty roast beef. It was so good, that I ended up eating it twice in my four nights in the DPRK.<br />
<br />
<h3>
4. Even Anti-American war museum guides have a sense of humor</h3>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2961547934/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Victorious Fatherland War Museum (20081009_0583) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Victorious Fatherland War Museum (20081009_0583)" height="160" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3048/2961547934_fa08a3de52_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The American Imperialist Aggressors</i><br />
<i>.... blah, blah, blah</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Victorious Fatherland Liberation Museum is a Korean War museum in Pyongyang. Being a group of all American tourists, it was a bit bizarre to listen to the guide constantly talk about "the American Imperialist Agressors" and all of the bad things they did to the Koreans. I was actually beginning to wonder if she realized that all of us were Americans. Thankfully, someone else in the group asked her. She replied that yes, she was aware we were Americans. Then, she seamlessly continued her memorized spiel in her ultra-serious voice.<br />
<br />
At one point, she was showing us a photo of an American soldier who was captured when his helicopter was shot down. After finishing her memorized information about him, she continued looking at his photo and then hesitantly said, "Kinda handsome, huh?" to one of the girls in our group. Immediately, someone in our group busted out laughing and everyone else, including her, joined in. From that point forward, both our group and the guide lightened up. We learned that we could joke around with her a little, and she showed us that she has a great sense of humor. She made it clear that she doesn't hate American people. She then made a fair point when she said that she just doesn't like our government, just like many Americans don't like the North Korean government. Fair point, indeed.<br />
<br />
<br />
After seeing photos of Pyongyang after a bombing campaign during the war, you can seen why the North Koreans wouldn't be happy with America's actions. Likewise, I probably wouldn't be happy with any foreign country that leveled one of our cities.<br />
<br />
<h3>
3. Witnessing the Arirang Mass Games</h3>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2961503542/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Arirang Mass Games (20081008_0335) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Arirang Mass Games (20081008_0335)" height="180" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3193/2961503542_1e068d37ee_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A spectacle unlike anything else on earth.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Arirang Mass Games are a choreographed gymnastic, dancing, and acrobatics show held in Pyongyang's May Day Stadium, which is the highest capacity stadium in the world. The performance tells the story of North Korea. <i>Arirang</i> is a traditional Korean folk song about a young couple being torn apart by an evil landlord, and thus represents the division of the two Koreas. The mass games feature over 100,000 performers, including more than 30,000 well-trained and disciplined schoolchildren, each holding up colored cards and flipping them on cue to make a stunning illustrative "screen" as the background of the performers on the stadium's field. It looks and feels like you're at the opening ceremonies for the Olympics, but in this case, there's only one nation that's being celebrated. It really is an impressive sight to behold and unbelievable how well 100,000 people can be choreographed.<br />
<br />
Our tour was lucky enough to get two mass games performances. The first one was the Arirang Mass Games, which was held at night. The second one was the Prosper The Motherland Mass Games, which was an event that only happened during the year I was there. It wasn't quite as grand as the Arirang performance, but the entry tickets were cheaper and it was still well worth seeing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
2. Joining some schoolchildren for a photo at the Mansudae Grand Monument</h3>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2960682747/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="New Friends (PA090203) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="New Friends (PA090203)" height="213" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3191/2960682747_20181a4824_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This was before the statue of the Dear Leader</i><br />
<i>joined the statue of the Great Leader.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As a tourist to the DPRK, you are required to respectfully bow and place flowers in front of this statue of the Dear Leader, Kim Il Sung.<br />
<br />
<i>[Following the death of Kim Jong Il, a statue of him was constructed next to the statue of his father at the Mansudae Grand Monument.]</i><br />
<br />
Our group was actually preparing to leave the monument when suddenly a couple of boys came up to me and Adam, grabbed our arms, and started pulling us in their direction. They didn't speak any English, but it was obvious that they wanted us to come with them. It was actually a little bit scary at first, since we didn't know where they were taking us. Obviously, they weren't going to take "no" for an answer, so we relented and went along. They took us to a middle-aged lady near the Dear Leader statue. In broken English, she explained that she was a teacher and this was her class. They were from a city in another part of the DPRK and had traveled here to see the wonderful city of Pyongyang. She then asked where we were from. Hesitantly, we told her we were from America. She then smiled and asked if we would join her and her class for a photo in front of the statue of the Dear Leader. She gathered her class together and handed her antique-looking, non-automatic film camera to someone else to take the photograph. As the class arranged themselves to be photographed, it was funny how they were all trying to squeeze their way into standing as close as possible to me and Adam. The teacher herself was holding onto my bicep nearly tight enough to bruise me. She was determined to not let any of her students come between her and me.<br />
<br />
When the photo was finished being taken, we said our goodbyes. The students all smiled broadly and waved enthusiastically as we walked back to our tour group. This was a great moment where people from two supposedly "enemy" nations came together, laughed, smiled, and did our best to communicate despite the language barrier. North Koreans are human beings just like you and me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
1. Getting to know our local North Korean guides</h3>
As a tourist in the DPRK, you are required to be part of an organized tour, and one of your guides will be with you at all times outside of your hotel. Although most travelers moan and groan about the lack of freedom, you may as well look on the bright side and make the most of your time with the guides. Considering that they are most likely the only English-speaking North Koreans that you will meet anyway, you may as well take advantage of that fact and talk to them. They can be surprisingly personable and..... human.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2960781167/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Me and Hyon (20081009_0607) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Me and Hyon (20081009_0607)" height="160" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3030/2960781167_15fcf44254_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Hyon, my 5-day friend.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Like men all over the world, male North Korean guides like to drink beer, look at girls, watch James Bond (or similar spy/action/war) movies, and joke around. And like women all over the world, female North Korean guides like to talk about boys, babies, clothes, and cosmetics. (Forgive me if I'm generalizing too much here).<br />
<br />
Buy your guide beer, and he'll be your best friend for the rest of your DPRK trip. You'll learn that he can be just like any other friend that you'd buy a beer for back home.<br />
<br />
Guides can be great friends if only for a
few days. Just as good or better at interacting than guides in any
country I've been to. After all, people are people, regardless of where they're from or what their government preaches.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/2960837061/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Drinking at Mount Myohyang (PA090291) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Drinking at Mount Myohyang (PA090291)" height="213" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3234/2960837061_e15116ca91_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>American-Korean Friendship Drinking.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My trip to North Korea was truly one of the greatest and most unique travel experiences that I've ever had. I would love to return someday and venture further into the countryside.<br />
<br />
[Please note that this blog entry is based on my trip to the DPRK in 2008. Some things may have changed since then, but from what I hear, not much has changed other than the additional of Kim Jong Il's statue next to his father's statue at the Mansudae Grand Monument.]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>* * * * * * * </i></div>
<br />
<i>My DPRK tour was booked through <a href="http://www.koryogroup.com/" target="_blank">Koryo Tours</a>. They are a pioneer in North Korean tourism and take more than half of all the tourists that go there each year. I highly recommend booking one of their tours.</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * *</div>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157608229101028/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Giant Arirang Pig (20081008_0294) by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Global Goebel's DPRK Flickr Photo Set " height="75" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3136/2961498634_5fd4a91baf_s.jpg" title="" width="75" /></a><br />
You can view all my photos from North Korea by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157608229101028/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * * </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i></div>
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/local-guides-burma-bagan.html">Global Goebel Travels: Local Guides: Burma - Bagan</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/the-story-behind-photo-heart-of.html">Global Goebel Travels: The Story Behind The Photo: The Heart of Darkness - Nyiragongo Volcano</a><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i></div>
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/one-day-in-bahrain.html">Global Goebel Travels: One Day In Bahrain</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/the-story-behind-photo-door-to-hell.html">Global Goebel Travels: The Story Behind The Photo: "Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * * * </div>
<br />
<b>Have you ever been to North Korea, or would you consider going?</b>Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com2Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2635389 116.82788329999994-1.5175448999999999 116.50515979999994 -1.0095329 117.15060679999993tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-63680716750079852112013-04-24T19:55:00.000-05:002013-04-24T19:55:26.068-05:00Mount Kenya: The Descent<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8573213301/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Mt. Kenya Crew by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Mt. Kenya Crew" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8510/8573213301_7b4bea41c0_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Front row, left to right: Harrison (porter), Peter (our guide), Steven (porter).<br />Middle row, left to right: Charles (porter), David (porter), Craig.<br />Back row, left to right: Me, George (assistant guide), David (cook), Dave, Samuel (porter)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After successfully reaching the summit of Lenana Peak this morning, we enjoy a celebratory cup of hot coffee and some breakfast while taking in the beautiful
views from Shipton's Camp. Yesterday when we arrived at camp we couldn't see much due to the
clouds, and then this morning we couldn't see much because it was still dark.<br />
<br />
We lounge around camp, taking naps, resting our feet, and repack our gear before leaving camp again at 12:30pm for what we think will be a slow, easy hike.<br />
<a name='more'></a>As we leave camp, it starts as a slow, gentle walk over a nice path through the valley. The views are relatively unexceptional, but after reaching the summit early this morning, I'm just happy that the path is easy on my knees.<br />
<br />
Around 2pm, we stop to eat our typical sack lunch on the side of the river. The bread that was used to make our sandwiches on Day 1 of the trek was already dry, and by this point in the trek, it's barely edible. We end up feeding most of our bread to the birds. However, the grilled chicken in our lunches still tastes great, even though we're not quite sure how the chicken managed to make it this far on our trek without spoiling.<br />
<br />
Once lunch is finished, we continue walking down the valley.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8588612916/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Back Down Via The Sirimon Route by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Back Down Via The Sirimon Route" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8089/8588612916_82a3f2d7f3_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nice, but forgettable scenery</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
... And we continue walking some more....<br />
<br />
... and more.<br />
<br />
Camp seems to be much further away than we were led to believe.<br />
<br />
We end up crossing over into another valley.<br />
<br />
The trail goes through it and then to yet another valley.<br />
<br />
I have very little in my notes about this part of the trail and very few photographs. The landscapes are full of grasses and shrubs, and are relatively forgettable. <br />
<br />
My quad muscles are sore and my feet hurt. It's been a long, tiring day. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8588614336/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Old Moses Camp by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Old Moses Camp" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8103/8588614336_45ec9b6cea_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Old Moses Camp</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's 5:30pm by the time Dave and I arrive at Old Moses Camp. Craig arrives about 30 minutes later.<br />
<br />
Once again, we are given the option of sleeping in the shelter or in our tents. Craig and I opt for tents, but Dave goes for the shelter since he'll have the room for himself. After the cold, miserable night in the last shelter, I just want to enjoy the relative comfort, privacy, and warmth of my tent.<br />
<br />
At dinner, Dave and I each have a Tusker beer, and Craig has a Coke. We made it!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The following morning we gather up our gear for one final time. After breakfast, I ask Peter to gather up the whole crew so we can say thanks to them. Once everyone is there, I give a short "thank you" speech. Dave and Craig each throw is a few additional words. Then, I call out each crew member by name and hand them an envelope with a tip inside that the three of us had pooled together the previous evening. Each guy shakes each of our hands while sporting huge smiles. Peter thanks us for being a good group of hikers, and mentions that he is very impressed and thankful that we got to know each porter by name.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8581612077/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Crossing the Equator by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Crossing the Equator" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8244/8581612077_d966bf66e7_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Crossing the equator.</i></td></tr>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
The walk to the park headquarters at the Sirimon Gate is an easy two-hour downhill stroll, primarily over a dusty road. The only semi-"highlight" of the walk is a sign telling us that we are crossing the equator into the Northern Hemisphere.</div>
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At the park headquarters, the porters pile into one minibus and wave enthusiastically to us as they pull away.</div>
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<br /></div>
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As with most treks, I'm experiencing mixed emotions. On one hand, I'm feeling celebratory after having successfully finished such an undertaking. On the other hand, there's a feeling of sadness knowing that I'll (probably) never see the amazing scenery of this mountain again, nor will I see the awesome guys that made up our crew on the trek.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But for now, I don't have too much time to soak in the Mount Kenya experience. From the park headquarters, we head back to Nairobi, and then early the next morning to Arusha to begin our Mount Kilimanjaro trek.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>[Thanks to <a href="http://www.himalayanexpeditions.com/" target="_blank">Canadian Himalayan Expeditions</a> for organizing this Mount Kenya trek for us.]</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
You can view all my photos from Mount Kenya by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157632903837945/with/8588612916/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
.
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-4-lenana-peak.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 4: Lenana Peak, Reaching The Summit</a><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-3-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 3, Burguret Route</a><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-2-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 2, Burguret Route</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-1-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 1, Burguret Route</a>
<br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Have you ever been to Mount Kenya? How did your experience compare to mine?</b></div>
</div>
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-37430385074530445222013-04-20T18:21:00.000-05:002013-05-15T07:13:41.246-05:00Mount Kenya - Day 4: Lenana Peak, Reaching The Summit<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584863974/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="It's A Beautiful Morning by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="It's A Beautiful Morning" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8375/8584863974_b20a1d000f_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The view from Lenana Peak</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today is the day that I either will make it to Mount Kenya's Lenana Peak, or I will have to admit defeat in a high-altitude trekking endeavor for the first time in my life.<br />
<br />
I peel myself out of my sleeping bag at 2:30am after barely sleeping last night. Before leaving, I manage to drink one cup of tea, but can't bring myself to force any of the biscuits down that our crew has laid out for us. I'm having a hard time distinguishing between the symptoms of not sleeping much, not eating enough over the last couple days, being congested from a cold, and general altitude sickness. I know that Craig has been struggling with altitude also, and I find myself thinking that if he were to back out this morning and not make an attempt at the summit, then I might back out too.<br />
<br />
We had planned to leave Shipton's Camp at 3am, but don't actually leave until 3:30. It's dark and cold outside, and I'm not feeling very confident about making it to the top of Lenana Peak (4985m / 16,355ft).<br />
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After walking in the dark for 30-45 minutes, we stop for a break. Maybe it's due to the crisp, cold air that I'm feeling significantly better than when we were sitting at camp. But, I don't want to get overconfident. It's still a long way to the top.<br />
<br />
Our guide Peter decides that he will go ahead with Dave and me, while George, the assistant guide, will stay behind with Craig and walk a slower pace.<br />
<br />
Out of nowhere, I have a bit of an appetite. I've never been so glad in my life to be hungry. It's been days now. I take a Peanut Butter Crunch Builder Bar out of my bag and nibble off a few bites.<br />
<br />
We slowly plod forward in the darkness through the snow. The only thing I hear is the crunching of the snow beneath my feet. The only thing I can see is the spot in front of me illuminated by my headlamp. Off to either side of the trail, there seems to just be a large drop-off and more darkness.<br />
<br />
On our next break, I take off my down jacket. I'm starting to get hot and sweaty inside my multiple layers of clothing. However, my toes are getting cold from the snow packing around my hiking boots, but at least I'm feeling fairly well overall now.<br />
<br />
As we get closer to morning and the peak itself, some areas of the trail require scrambling on all fours over some rocks and around some ledges. This is more than the "walk in the park" that I was expecting as a warm up for climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.<br />
<br />
Although my head is clear and feeling good, my body seems to only be able to go one pace -- slow. There are times where I stop to catch my breath, and it's hard to tell my feet to keep going.<br />
<br />
We stop around 6:30am to watch the sun rise over the horizon. It's beautiful, but I can barely get my camera out of my bag. The combination of cold fingers and a brain slowed by lack of oxygen seems to make simple tasks much more difficult than they should be.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8580818607/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Sunrise on Mount Kenya by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Sunrise on Mount Kenya" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8505/8580818607_c88ce941b6_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td>
<td><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8580814873/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Almost There by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Almost There" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8388/8580814873_50c88da64c_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tr-caption" colspan="2" style="text-align: center;" valign="top"><i>I'm glad I was able to get my camera out of my bag to take these photos.
</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After snapping some photos and drinking some water, Peter tells us it's time to move on and get to the summit.<br />
<br />
Just shy of the summit, there are seven ladder rungs made from steel rebar inserted into a rock face that's about 8ft / 2.4m high with a sign declaring it to be the "World's Highest Via Ferrata." Seven steps is a pretty miniscule via ferrata to deserve such a grand title, but it is what it is.<br />
<br />
It's a few minutes after 7am when I get to the top of the via ferrata and Lenana Peak. There are three girls already at the top. I ignore them and head straight to Dave, who made it to the top 5-10 minutes before me. I eek out the word "Congratulations" to him. It's hard to speak as I try to catch my breath in the thin air and start getting a bit emotional after having made it here.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584866280/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Me on Lenana Peak by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Me on Lenana Peak" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8103/8584866280_1e7de32d83_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>After setting my pack down and taking a few sips of water, Dave and I stand on top of the highest rock and do some cheesy self-portraits. He tries to upload one of the photos to Facebook, but it keeps failing despite the fact that his phone shows it is getting a 4G signal.<br />
<br />
I use my iPhone to record a short video of me at the peak. Dave hears me talking and thinks I've gone crazy and am talking to myself. After I finish the video, I let him know that I am indeed still sane and was just recording a video.<br />
<br />
By 7:30am, I'm already ready to go down. It's windy, my toes are cold, and I'm tired.<br />
<br />
We meet Craig on the way down about 30 minutes from the peak. I'm glad to see that he's still
heading up and didn't turn around. He seems happy to see us and glad to
hear that he's almost to the top.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8587509391/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Back to Shipton's by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Back to Shipton's" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8233/8587509391_4f377ac210_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
On the descent, I notice several potentially good photo opportunities, but can't motivate myself to get my camera out. I made it to the top, but obviously I'm not feeling 100%.<br />
<br />
The way down has its fair share of knee-pounding moments, and my legs are rejoicing when we get back to Shipton's Camp just before 9am.<br />
<br />
<i>To be continued.... </i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
You can view all my photos from Mount Kenya by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157632903837945/with/8588612916/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
.
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-3-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 3, Burguret Route</a><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-2-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 2, Burguret Route</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-1-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 1, Burguret Route</a>
<br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/success-lenana-peak-mt-kenya.html">Global Goebel Travels: Success! Lenana Peak, Mt. Kenya</a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
<b>Have you ever been to Mount Kenya? How did your experience compare to mine?</b>Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-6332686110493656192013-04-16T00:13:00.001-05:002013-05-15T07:13:41.249-05:00Mount Kenya - Day 3, Burguret Route<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8575230463/" target="_blank" title="Are We There Yet? by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Are We There Yet?" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8373/8575230463_4efe4296b2_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<br />
<br />
When I wake up at Mount Kenya's Highland Castle camp on Day 3 of our trek, I have a bit of a headache. It isn't too severe and is gone by the time I finish my coffee at breakfast, but it is an omen for how my day is going to go.<br />
<br />
Our hike today involves 5-6 hours of walking to the point where the Burguret Route joins the Summit Circuit. Then, we will have to cross the Hausberg Col (4600m / 15,091ft) before descending to Shipton's Camp, which serves as the base camp for Lenana Peak on this side of the mountain.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8580822249/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Dave and Craig by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><br /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8576331154/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Porters Ascending From The Highland Castle by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Porters Ascending From The Highland Castle" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8524/8576331154_ae1c3db53a_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The ascent from Highland Castle is pretty quick, and it's not long before we have some stunning views of the valley below. Although we can see the peaks of Mount Kenya ahead of us, some clouds are rolling in and shroud the peaks within a couple hours of us leaving camp.<br />
<br />
I'm still struggling with lens errors on my primary camera lens, a 24-105mm f/4 Canon lens. At a water break, I notice the porters coming up behind us and see the perfect photo opportunity. I can't get the 24-105 to work, so I quickly switch to my Canon s95 point-and-shoot camera, which gives surprisingly good results for a compact camera. After the porters pass, I fiddle with the faulty lens some more, but can't get it to work. I make the decision to give up on it until I'm off the mountain. From this point on, I'll just rely on my 16-35mm wide-angle lens on my DSLR and use my s95 point-and-shoot for other photos. It frustrates me, but I can't keep worrying about lens errors.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8654250640/in/photostream/" target="_blank"><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786" height="188" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=b046c9c196&photo_id=8654250640"></param>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8654250640/in/photostream/" target="_blank">I'm not sure if this is snow or hail,<br /> but I know I don't like it.</a></td></tr>
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Around noon, it starts snowing. Actually, I'm not sure if it was snow or hail. It's shaped like the little white balls left after you break up pieces of styrofoam and bounces off the ground. We think that it won't last long, so we postpone our lunch and keep walking.<br />
<br />
By one o'clock, we realize the bad weather is here to stay. It's getting colder, windier, and the snow/hail continues to fall. We find a couple huge boulders leaning against each other forming a cave-like shelter. We eat our lunch here relatively protected from the weather. It isn't very comfortable, since we are wedged between the rocks and can't really sit down, but it gives us some relief from the windblown snow nipping at our faces.<br />
<br />
Even though I stopped taking my anti-malarial medication due to the side effects, I still don't have an appetite and am starting to have minor headaches. Craig is also battling with the effects of altitude. Dave attempts to keep everyone's spirits up by building a miniature snowman inside the cave. He's obviously feeling perfectly fine.<br />
<br />
After we finish eating, we take the time to pull some extra layers out of our backpacks. I'm wishing that I packed my thicker gloves this morning. Instead, I'm left with just a thin pair of New Balance running gloves. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8654326698/in/photostream" target="_blank"><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786" height="188" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=41454676fb&photo_id=8654326698&flickr_show_info_box=true"></param>
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</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8654326698/in/photostream" target="_blank">If only there were clear skies here...</a></td></tr>
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We cross over a small ridge and then descend into the area where the Burguret Route meets the Summit Circuit. We are surrounded by jagged peaks shrouded in clouds now. I'm reminded of Torres del Paine in Patagonia (even though I've never been there). This area must have absolutely stunning views in good weather.<br />
<br />
My thin running gloves have been getting getting damp from the snow, and now my fingers are getting numb. I keep flexing them around my trekking pole handles to try to stimulate circulation and warm them.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8575232835/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Not quite the amazing views we were promised by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Not quite the amazing views we were promised" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8108/8575232835_53c8aa2604_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>We start heading up again over a rockier area. My fingers are feeling less numb now, but now it's my toes that have become uncomfortably cold. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584700378/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Hausberg Col by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Hausberg Col" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8106/8584700378_f661fe2059_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>Far in the distance, I see a zigzag pattern that is typical for switchbacks going up steep sections of trails leading to mountain passes. I have a feeling that's where we're heading; it must be the Hausberg Col, but I really hope it isn't. I hope the trail magically takes a turn and the Col is right in front of us. I don't want to walk that far in this weather.<br />
<br />
As the trail continues to climb, I start getting a headache and feeling nauseous. I now know that this is no longer the side effects from that anti-malarial medication. This is altitude related.<br />
<br />
Our lunch had a mint chocolate candy bar in it. Normally, mint chocolate is one of my favorite flavors, but now that I keep burping it up, I've never disliked it so much. I'm cold, sick, exhausted, and just want to be in camp.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8583604967/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Break Time by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Break Time" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8096/8583604967_d6edc7b2fc_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>We approach the zigzags in the distance and realize that really is where we're going. There isn't a magical turn or shortcut. That is the Col, and we are going to cross it.<br />
<br />
Craig is slowing down, so Peter says he'll stay behind with Craig, but tells Dave and me to go ahead.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584710426/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Getting Closer by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Getting Closer" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8108/8584710426_89eb2670a5_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>My head is pounding even more now, as I start going up the zigzagged switchbacks. On each turn of the switchbacks, I feel worse and worse. It's a slow walk up, but I can't wait for it to be over so I can descend down to camp on the other side and wrap myself in my sleeping bag.<br />
<br />
Dave reaches the top of Hausberg Col well before me. This is his first high-altitude trek. Deep inside, I'm annoyed that he's not having any problems with the altitude. Whereas, I've done several treks at significantly higher altitudes than this, yet I'm the one who's feeling horrible right now.<br />
<br />
As I approach the top, I feel like I'm moving in slow motion.<br />
<br />
Step by slow step, I get closer.<br />
<br />
Finally, I'm at the top of the Col.<br />
<br />
Dave says something, but my mind doesn't register anything. My head hurts too much to process the words coming out of this mouth.<br />
<br />
I take my backpack off and sit down in the snow with my head between my knees.<br />
<br />
I try to say something to Dave about how bad I feel, but I can't even gather up the energy to tell him.<br />
<br />
I wish I could curl up into a ball and sleep.<br />
<br />
I'm exhausted.<br />
<br />
Dave is talking again, but I still have no idea what he's saying. <br />
<br />
I look at my watch and it's almost 5pm already. We still have to descend to camp, but I have no idea how far that is. Based on how I'm feeling, it doesn't matter how far it is. Unless it's within a few steps of where I'm sitting right now, it's too far away.<br />
<br />
After sitting there for about ten minutes, I'm able to catch my breath and muster up enough energy to stand up. I know I need to go down. With how I'm feeling, I know it's not good to linger up here too long.<br />
<br />
There's a large boulder blocking the menacing wind coming over the Col. I walk around it hoping to see the path that leads to Shipton's Camp, but I can't see a path to anywhere. The ground is covered in snow, and the clouds are obscuring any chance of seeing the camp in the valley below.<br />
<br />
My head is starting to feel a bit better now, but I'm still uncomfortably cold.<br />
<br />
I walk back around the boulder to ask Dave if he knows where the trail down is. He says he doesn't see it either. We stand there and talk for a while, as my head clears up.<br />
<br />
Eventually, Peter makes it to the top of the Col and exclaims, "I thought you guys would be gone by now." I explain that we couldn't find the path. He gives us a look of confusion, as if he was thinking, "How dumb are you guys?"<br />
<br />
It turns out that if we would've walked only about 10 meters more, we would've seen footprints left by the porters.<br />
<br />
We thank Peter and start heading down, still unable to see camp.<br />
<br />
Dave races by, and I'm left hiking alone.<br />
<br />
There are times that I temporarily lose the path, but just keep heading down the valley until I find another set of footprints again. It's not a long walk from the Hausberg Col to Shipton's Camp, but it feels longer on a day like today.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8583757513/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Shipton's Camp by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Shipton's Camp" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8519/8583757513_ab92bee680_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Around 6pm, I make it to camp. I'm cold and beat. Dave is sitting at a table inside Shipton's Hut, a permanent shelter built at the camp, and enjoying a cup of tea and some donut-like snacks. He's talking to a German guy that had made it to the Lenana summit earlier in the day.<br />
<br />
George asks me if we want to sleep in our tents or in the shelter. I tell him that I'd prefer the shelter just so I can be inside and away from the wet weather.<br />
<br />
I take off some of my outer layers and hang them on hooks inside the shelter hoping that they will dry by morning.<br />
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Then, I join Dave at the table. I manage to drink some tea, but can't gather up an appetite for the donut things. I'm nauseous and have a pounding headache now. How am I going to make it to the summit in the morning?<br />
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At dinner, I eat my soup but have to force it down. I don't even touch the rest of the food.<br />
<br />
I toss and turn in my bed all night long. The shelter is cold and uncomfortable. My stomach hurts and my nose is congested.<br />
<br />
By 2:30am when we are woken to get ready for our hike to Lenana Peak, I feel like I've barely slept.<br />
<br />
<i>To be continued.... (Click <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-4-lenana-peak.html">here</a> for Day 4)</i><br />
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<br />
You can view all my photos from Mount Kenya by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157632903837945/with/8588612916/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<br />
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-2-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 2, Burguret Route</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-1-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 1, Burguret Route</a>
<br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/success-lenana-peak-mt-kenya.html">Global Goebel Travels: Success! Lenana Peak, Mt. Kenya</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com4Jakarta, Indonesia-6.211544 106.84517200000005-6.716652 106.19972500000004 -5.706436 107.49061900000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-63449693182225592652013-04-11T15:00:00.000-05:002013-04-16T02:32:38.729-05:00Local Guides: Burma - Bagan<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8102442287/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Htay Win - Burmese Photographer and Guide by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Htay Win - Burmese Photographer and Guide" height="428" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8328/8102442287_eb231e800e_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Htay Win poses next to some of his photographs.</td></tr>
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<i>"<b>Local Guides</b>" will be a recurring theme here
at Global Goebel Travels, where I recommend local guides from the various locations that I visit around the world.</i></blockquote>
<br />
Burma, and especially Bagan, was a destination to which I wanted to
travel since soon after I began traveling internationally in 2001. Like many travelers to Burma, I spent my time seeing the "Big Four" destinations of Yangon, Mandalay, Bagan, and Inle Lake when I was there. While researching the trip online, I came across some webpages advertising photography tours of Bagan. With my interests in old temples and in photography, I thought this sounded like a great way to spend a day or two of my trip. The dates mentioned online didn't fit into my travel schedule. Nevertheless, after sending a few emails, I was referred to a licensed Bagan guide named Htay Win, who happened to also be a photography enthusiast.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8102730352/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Buddhist Monks Collecting Alms by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Buddhist Monks Collecting Alms" height="133" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8045/8102730352_6909ed811a_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>
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<br />
I wasn't sure what a personal photography tour would be like, but I found that I quite enjoyed it. It was interesting to go around with another photographer who was very knowledgeable of Bagan and its surroundings, including the times to be at each place for the best available natural lighting.<br />
<br />
Although he prefers to think of photography as just a hobby, he is proud to point out that several of the postcards being sold around Bagan are his photos. He also has a book published with his photos and runs a gallery out of his house in New Bagan where you can buy large versions of his prints.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8102413582/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Bagan Sunrise by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Bagan Sunrise" height="133" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8047/8102413582_6da3147706_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
If you are heading to Bagan and are interested in photography, I strongly recommend using him as your guide. He's a genuinely nice guy and is thrilled to discuss photography. He can be contacted by email at magicalbagan@gmail.com. <br />
<br />
Also, he shoots with a Canon 5D Mark I and is more than interested in upgrading both his camera and some of his lenses (especially anything with image stabilization). However, it's difficult to buy them in Burma or have them shipped there, so if you have any old gear around, you may be able to sell it to him when you get to Bagan.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8102453504/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="I've Seen The Light by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="I've Seen The Light" height="214" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8474/8102453504_8069b55bf7_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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You can see more of my photos from Bagan and from the rest of Burma <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157631731066669/" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-43112374175201750022013-04-07T08:00:00.000-05:002013-04-07T08:00:03.819-05:00The Story Behind The Photo: The Heart of Darkness - Nyiragongo Volcano<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6556533525/" target="_blank" title="The Heart of Darkness [Explored] by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Heart of Darkness [Explored]" height="427" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7015/6556533525_651ce0a605_z.jpg" width="640" /></a> </div>
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<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<i>"<b>The Story Behind The Photo</b>" is a recurring theme here at Global Goebel Travels, where I chose one of my favorite travel photos and tell the story behind shooting it.</i><br />
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In my last "The Story Behind The Photo" post, I featured the <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/the-story-behind-photo-door-to-hell.html">Darvaza Gas Crater in Turkmenistan</a>. Now, I'm going to feature another photo of a large burning hole in the ground. However, this one is created by Mother Earth instead of by a Soviet industrial accident.<br />
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<br />
In November 2011, I was in the process of planning a trip to Burma when I came across a news article about the Nyamulagira volcano eruption that was ongoing in The Democratic Republic of Congo. I was blown away by some of the photos that showed tourists standing relatively close to the volcano and photographing it. There were a couple things that blew me away about this particular article and accompanying photo:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
1. Wow! I didn't realize you could get that close to an erupting volcano!</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
2. Wow! Tourists go to Congo!</blockquote>
I did some late-night internet research and found that DRC (The Democratic Republic of Congo) was temporarily offering visas-on-arrival at the land crossing from Rwanda, as long as you were heading to Virunga National Park. I also found a company called <a href="http://www.volcanodiscovery.com/africa/nyiragongo_lava_lake_gorillas.html" target="_blank">Volcano Discoveries</a> that offers trips to the Nyiragongo volcano in DRC that also include a mountain gorilla trek in Rwanda (which was something that was already on my bucket list). I then made one of my most impulsive travel planning decisions ever and almost immediately sent them a deposit for their next trip to Congo. Burma was going to have to wait. I was heading to Rwanda and Congo in less than two weeks.<br />
<br />
Now, it should be noted that at this time I didn't realize that Nyamulagira and Nyiragongo were two different volcanos. They both started with "Ny" and were unpronounceable words for me.<br />
<br />
I eventually figured out that they were two different volcanos when I got an email from Volcano Discoveries saying that although Nyamulagira isn't normally part of the itinerary, there was a chance that it could be added once we arrived to DRC and if everyone in the group agreed.<br />
<br />
<i>Hmmm.... If I'm not going to Nyamulagira, then what's this Nyiragongo thing that I'm paying to see?</i><br />
<br />
And then I found a photo essay on <a href="http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2011/02/nyiragongo_crater_journey_to_t.html" target="_blank">boston.com that featured Nyiragongo</a>. I immediately fell in love with this huge lava lake that has been continuously active for over one hundred years, but was also still hopeful that I'd get to see it's sister volcano, Nyamulagira, which was continuing to spew lava into the air.<br />
<br />
Well, we ended up not being able to get to Nyamulagira, due to the the National Park supposedly not having any rangers available to take us there. However, we camped on top of Nyiragongo for three nights, which ended up being one of my most amazing travel experiences ever. Every night, we would stay up late watching the lava flow inside this huge crater. It was absolutely mesmerizing. The dark spots would continually flow across the crater in what looked like a microcosm for plate tectonics, and occasionally mini-eruption flares would burst out of the lake. Depending on the direction of the wind, there were also bursts of hot air that would blow past us from deep within the crater. <br />
<br />
Among the hundreds of photos that I ended up shooting of the volcano, the one featured above is easily my favorite. Interestingly enough, some people think it's a computer-designed graphic and not an actual photo. Amazingly, I actually did very little editing to it, and the end product looks pretty close to the original "straight out of camera" shot. I basically just did some minor tone shifting and contrast adjustments in Adobe Lightroom.<br />
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Photo technical details:<br />
<br />
Camera: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001G5ZTMM/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B001G5ZTMM&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Canon EOS 5D Mark II</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B001G5ZTMM" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /><br />
Lens: EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM<br />
Aperture: f/5.0<br />
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec<br />
Focal Length: 250mm<br />
ISO Speed: 2000<br />
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* * * * * * *</div>
<br />
To see more of my photos from the Nyiragongo Volano, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157628524291169/with/6556533525/" target="_blank">click here</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6561143365/" target="_blank" title="The Final Ascent by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Final Ascent" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7022/6561143365_ee75dea4a7_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6769039371/" target="_blank" title="The Nyiragongo Lava Lake by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Nyiragongo Lava Lake" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7027/6769039371_c43db07699_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6774967867/" target="_blank" title="Me and My Big Gun by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Me and My Big Gun" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7141/6774967867_c3e6900782_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6794353891/" target="_blank" title="Nyiragongo At Night by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Nyiragongo At Night" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7025/6794353891_7b5f243f4a_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6794350603/" target="_blank" title="Nyiragongo Haze by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Nyiragongo Haze" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7010/6794350603_e065cfd22d_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6769021679/" target="_blank" title="Nyiragongo Up Close by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Nyiragongo Up Close" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7027/6769021679_dfc49530e6_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/6774744377/" target="_blank" title="Sunrise at the Nyiragongo Camp by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Sunrise at the Nyiragongo Camp" height="75" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7035/6774744377_21b99f5490_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>All photos are </i><i>© Ryan Goebel, 2011</i></span></div>
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. . . . . . . .</div>
<br />
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/the-story-behind-photo-door-to-hell.html">Global Goebel Travels: The Story Behind The Photo: "Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater</a><br />
<br />
<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Kuala Lumpur, Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia3.139003 101.686854999999922.885326 101.36413149999993 3.3926800000000004 102.00957849999992tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-83053954351123667692013-03-31T04:01:00.000-05:002013-05-15T07:13:41.251-05:00Mount Kenya - Day 2, Burguret Route<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8583591297/" target="_blank" title="Approaching Highland Castle by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Approaching Highland Castle" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8243/8583591297_6840300f60_z.jpg" /></a>
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<br />
I’m half awake and lying in my tent at the Giant Bamboo Camp, which is our first campsite of the Burguret Route on Mount Kenya. I’ve had the urge to pee for at least a few hours now, but haven’t been able to muster up the energy or overcome my fear to leave the tent.<br />
<br />
<i>Fear?... What fear?
</i><br />
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Last night while we were sitting around the campfire, our guide Peter told us that we should make sure that we keep everything safely inside our tent since lots of animals are in the area of this campsite. Then, he said that if we wake up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night to make sure we first look around for any red glowing eyes before leaving our tent.
<br />
<br />
“Uh, what kind of animals are we talking about?” asked Dave. <br />
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“You’ll probably hear some colobus monkeys and tree hyraxes tonight as you try to fall asleep,” answered Peter, and then he mentioned something about “small flesh-eating cats”, hyenas, and some rodents.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/2f/Ogmork.jpg" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gmork, from <i>The Neverending Story</i></td></tr>
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<i>“Wait.... What? A flesh-eating cat!?!”
</i><br />
<br />
We never really figured out what kind of cat Peter was talking about, or whether he was even being serious or just joking with us. But, at 3 o’clock in the morning when I woke up needing to relieve myself, I could hear some strange growling noises and then something that sounded like footsteps. Lurking outside my tent was obviously an evil flesh-eating cat, which in my mind looked something like Gmork from <i>The Neverending Story </i>(even though Gmork is more of a wolf than a cat). Needless to say, I decided to hold it until there was a sign of daylight. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8605706730/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Tree Hyrax by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Tree Hyrax" height="266" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8522/8605706730_1ba0c15884_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree Hyrax.<br />
To hear what a tree hyrax sounds like, click <a href="http://www.sounds.beachware.com/2illionzayp3may/hupthsz/HYRAX.mp3" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
Although, I swear that the tree hyraxes around our camp had the volume turned up to 11.</td></tr>
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At the first hint of light, I quickly unzip my sleeping bag and rush out of the tent to relieve myself. Having survived the experience without any encounters with flesh-eating cats, I return to my tent to begin the arduous daily task of deciding how many layers to bring for the day’s hike and packing everything else back into my bag designated for a porter.
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<br />
While eating breakfast, I am amazed that our crew has carried a few cartons of UHT milk along with us up the mountain. I would have expected that they would have just brought powdered milk like most treks on which I’ve been. Despite still not having any appetite, I force down a bowl of cereal, an egg, some toast, some beans, and some <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00438ZXAM/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00438ZXAM&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Starbucks VIA instant coffee</a>.
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<br />
Immediately after leaving camp, the incline picks up and the trail is steeper than anything we saw yesterday. The giant bamboo forest continues to be fascinating and becomes even more stunning as the morning light filters through the tall stalks. There are a lot of dead bamboo stalks laying on the trail, which make loud cracking sounds as we step on them.
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584359954/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Walking Through The Bamboo Forest by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Walking Through The Bamboo Forest" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8237/8584359954_0e1e06b33f_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>The walk becomes even more pleasant as huge moss-covered trees and long vines start to appear mixed in with the bamboo. Dave tugs on one of the vines, but it crashes to the ground right in front of him, nearly missing hitting him on the head. These vines apparently aren’t made for swinging.
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<br />
We come to a clearing in the bamboo forest after walking about an hour and a half. Peter informs us that this is a horse camp, although we don’t see any sign of horses. The vegetation here is more small shrubs and thick patches of weeds. The path is no longer well marked, and I’m glad we have a guide to show us the way.
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<br />
Winding our way through the weedy path, we get to a small stream. As soon as we cross the stream, the trail gets really steep, and we end up back in a bamboo forest. The steep terrain and exotic plant life reminds me a lot of the gorilla trek I did in Rwanda a couple years ago. It has a very prehistoric “land before time” feel to it.
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For the next couple hours, the path alternates between bamboo forest and weed-filled exposed areas.
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We come across the porters stopped on an exposed hill face overlooking the valley below. We decide to join them and eat our packed lunches. This amazing view is the first chance we’ve had to really get a feeling for how far up the mountain we’ve come.
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<br />
Our packed lunches seem to more or less be the same as our packed lunch from yesterday (and end up being very similar every day for the rest of the trek). We all agree that the grilled chicken is easily the highlight, whereas the triple-decker sandwiches made with incredibly dry bread, one piece of unknown meat, a thin layer of shredded cheese, and a bit of butter are hard to force down without dumping some water in our mouths as we eat them.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584365410/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Burguret Route by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Burguret Route" height="266" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8518/8584365410_9c374febf1_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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After lunch, the trail continues through more bamboo forest and weed-filled clearings before entering the heather zone. We hike through a large desolate area with burned and blackened trees from a wildfire a couple years ago. Long grasses seem to have re-grown in the area, but most of the shrubs and trees seem to be dead.
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<br />
Besides not having much of an appetite, I’m starting to have sporadic headaches now. This worries me, because I was convinced that the lack of appetite was due to other reasons, but the headaches are almost surely altitude-related.
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<br />
Through the dead trees, we can see Batian and Nelion, the two tallest peaks on the mountain, up ahead. The afternoon clouds are beginning to roll in, but the view is still spectacular. Perhaps due to my continuing headaches combined with the fact that I’m trying to get used to a new camera [<i>I accidentally scratched the sensor on my 5D Mark II two days before leaving on the trip and was “forced” into upgrading to a 5D Mark III… but that’s another story</i>], I don’t feel that I’m adequately capturing the spectacular scenery from today’s hiking.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8604602745/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Everlasting by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Everlasting" height="125" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8398/8604602745_6088f61a72_n.jpg" width="125" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everlasting?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8604602961/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Kenyatta Flowering Plant by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Kenyatta Flowering Plant" height="125" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8250/8604602961_66c430ba27_n.jpg" width="125" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kenyatta,<br />
the plant not the president</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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On one of our water breaks, our guide tells us about some of the unique plant life found on the mountain. There are everlasting flowers, giant lobelias, and the Kenyatta flower. Peter tells us that the Kenyatta flower is only found on Mount Kenya. It is a plant that closes its leaves at night and then opens them during the day to catch the sun's light.<br />
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[Note: I can’t seem to find any information online about the Kenyatta flower, so I may not have the correct name for it.]
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8583591297/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Approaching Highland Castle by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Approaching Highland Castle" height="266" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8243/8583591297_6840300f60_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Around 3pm, we stop to take in the first good view we have of the cliffs known as Highland Castle. I try to take a photo of it, but my camera isn’t working. I get a message on the screen that says “Err 01. Communications between the camera and the lens is faulty. Clean the lens contacts.” I remove my 24-105mm f/4 lens from the Canon 5D Mark III body and attempt to clean the electronic contacts with a lens-cleaning cloth. I reattach the lens and am able to take one photo, but then I get the same message again. After the scratched sensor on my Mark II, I really don't need more camera problems. I walk away with a few shots on my Canon s95 point-and-shoot, but I’m frustrated. The mountain is wearing me out, and I’m starting to wish I were somewhere else right now.<br />
<table cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIRBj-6XDL3ydpx3tJt39xqTUwJCPsEul_yI7JF64Hs0N2_Ew1i_VWApvS0I6vEuhyMPqkOtBaxXOpRN7JdR_NNIdGl9CfZ97WrBXcxPyyCrhHuVhGkSo46SmMYUrUz6W-LJfyM-upZE/s200/20130220073306s95085f.jpg" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This message did not make me happy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
When we arrive into camp, I try cleaning the lens contacts again using some cleaning swabs that Dave gave me, but still seem to get the same error message on almost every test shot that I try to take.
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<br />
Dave is a former biology student and is running around camp chasing birds, trying to get good photos of them. His enthusiasm frustrates me even further. My camera issues are obviously affecting my mood.
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<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584697828/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Craig Relaxing At Camp by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Craig Relaxing At Camp" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8511/8584697828_658aac06ed_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>As I'm unpacking my gear in the tent, the thought occurs to me that perhaps my lack of appetite over the last few days is a side effect of Malarone (<i>atovaquone-proguanil</i>), the anti-malarial medication that I'm taking. I dug out the paper that came with my prescription.<br />
<br />
<i>"Side effects may include nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain, headache, diarrhea, weakness, loss of appetite, and dizziness."</i><br />
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Loss of appetite? Aha! This could explain why I didn't even have an appetite when I was in Singapore a few days ago, since that was the morning that I began taking the Malarone.<br />
<br />
I'm worried, though, because the common side effects of Malarone sound a lot like the effects of altitude sickness. I then make the decision to stop taking the Malrone until the high altitude portion of my trip is finished and just hope I don't get bitten by a malaria-carrying mosquito in the meantime. I also hope that the side effects wear off soon, since I'm hoping to reach the summit of Lenana Point in a couple days. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8583301011/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Camp Fire In A Cave by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Camp Fire In A Cave" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8369/8583301011_c7fd0816b5_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>We eat our dinner in a cave at the base of the towering cliff of Highland Castle. The cave provides a cool setting for dinner, until the porters decide to light a campfire near the entrance to the cave. It doesn't take long for the cave to fill up with smoke and make my eyes burn. We quickly exit the cave and have a seat in front of the fire with the porters. However, the smoke here eventually gets to be too much for us to handle also, so we head back to our tents.
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<br />
Back in the tent, Dave and I line up our gear between our sleeping bags to prevent either of us from rolling onto the other. With the relative slope of this campsite and being wedged into the smaller-than-we’d-prefer tent, Dave makes the comment that it feels like we’re going to go luging down the slope tonight. We both burst into hysterical laughter like a couple of hyenas. Our dumb comments and jokes continue from there until we are both in tears. I’m not sure if it’s from the jokes or the lack of oxygen, but the laughter seems to make me temporarily forget about all my camera problems, headaches, and lack of appetite.
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<br />
Little do I know that tomorrow will be one of my most trying days ever on a mountain.
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<i>To be continued.... </i><i> (Click <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-3-burguret-route.html">here</a> for Day 3)</i><br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
You can view all my photos from Mount Kenya by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157632903837945/with/8588612916/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
.
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-1-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 1, Burguret Route</a>
<br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/success-lenana-peak-mt-kenya.html">Global Goebel Travels: Success! Lenana Peak, Mt. Kenya</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com3Kuala Lumpur, Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia3.139003 101.686854999999922.885326 101.36413149999993 3.3926800000000004 102.00957849999992tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-61417851078278596352013-03-29T10:00:00.000-05:002013-04-16T02:31:53.864-05:00Local Guides: Indonesia - Krakatau<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8444031206/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Me and our guide, Gimon by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Me and our guide, Gimon" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8466/8444031206_1af7866a07_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Gimon and me on Anak Krakatau, Dec 2012.</i></td></tr>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"<b>Local Guides</b>" will be a recurring theme here
at Global Goebel Travels, where I recommend local guides from the various locations that I visit around the world.</i></blockquote>
In December, I visited Anak Krakatau, or "Child of Krakatau", as a weekend getaway from Jakarta. After contacting a few different companies, I eventually settled on a company called Ndeso Adventure. After settling all the details, they hooked me up with a guide named Gimon. Oddly enough, after working in Indonesia for seven years, he's the first person I've ever met named Gimon.<br />
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From Wikipedia:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Krakatoa, or Krakatau, is a volcanic island situated in the Sunda Strait between the islands of Java and Sumatra in Indonesia. The name is also used for the surrounding island group and the volcanoes as a whole. The Krakatoa volcanoes erupted and exploded in 1883, causing massive tsunamis and killing at least 36,417 people, while simultaneously destroying over two-thirds of Krakatoa island. The explosion is considered to be the loudest sound ever heard in modern history, with reports of it being heard up to 3,000 miles (4,800 km) from its point of origin. The shock waves from the explosion were recorded on barographs around the globe. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Currently, what had been the northern-most of the three pre-1883 Krakatoa volcanoes, Perboewatan, has re-emerged from the ocean, and is the principal force in the on-going formation of a new island, Anak Krakatau, or "Child of Krakatoa".
</blockquote>
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Gimon turned out to be an excellent guide. In fact, I'd say that he was <b><i>the best</i></b> Indonesian guide that I've ever had anywhere in the archipelago. He spoke good English, was very knowledgeable about the volcano, looked out for our safety, showed genuine excitement during our hikes and snorkeling, and was just an all-around nice guy.<br />
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Besides guiding trips to Krakatau, Gimon also guides trips to Ujung Kulon National Park and around Carita. If you are interested in using him as your guide, you can ask for him at the Rakata Hotel in Carita or look for him hanging out on the nearby beach. Or, if you leave a comment below, I can send you his Indonesian mobile number.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8442942033/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Rakata Island by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Rakata Island" height="266" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8233/8442942033_080a0a8506_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
You can view my photos from our Krakatau trip <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157632686024838/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-5578101858835842942013-03-27T03:20:00.001-05:002013-05-15T07:13:41.248-05:00Mount Kenya - Day 1, Burguret Route<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8576415094/" target="_blank" title="These Trees Can Talk by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="These Trees Can Talk" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8228/8576415094_f79149e3a1_z.jpg" target="_blank" width="640" /></a><br />
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<br />
<i>It’s February 18, the day after my 36th birthday. Where have all my years gone? I’m starting another trek today, on another trip, to yet another country. Is this really only my 51st country? Wait… this is my 51st country. Although I haven’t made it to every country in the world as some bloggers my age have, nor have I even joined the travelers’ century club, 51 countries is no small achievement. By the time I finish this 25-day trip, I will have increased my total to 54 countries. At that point, I will have been to more countries than I have been to Pearl Jam concerts! (Anyone who knows me personally can attest to the fact that is a shocking statistic).
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<i><br /></i>
My 51st country is Kenya, and I’m here to climb Mount Kenya, the second tallest mountain in Africa, as a warm-up for my climb of Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest mountain in Africa. It should be noted, though, that my group was <i>only</i> climbing to the top of Lenana Point, the third highest peak on Mount Kenya and the highest one that you can reach without any technical climbing skills or equipment. At 4985m (16355 ft), however, making it to the summit of Lenana Point is no small feat.
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We had chosen the little-used Burguret Route for our ascent, since it promised better views, more remoteness, and less trekkers than routes such as most common route, the Sirimon. In fact, we were told that we would most likely be the only people on the Burguret trail, which is actually privately-owned by the same people as the Mountain Rock Bantu Lodge, where we stayed last night. Unlike most of the routes on Mount Kenya, the Burguret Route does not have any permanent shelters, so we had to sleep in tents. I surely didn’t mind this, since any trek that I had ever done before involved sleeping in a tent.
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Two other things that I read regarding the Burguret Route made it particularly appealing was that we may encounter elephants and buffalos on the trail; and that the first camp was called “Giant Bamboo Camp”, which consisted of a campsite smack dab in the middle of a giant bamboo forest. I had a hard time finding many photos of this cool-sounding camp online, but the few I had found made it look ridiculously awesome!<br />
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After spending last night at the Mountain Rock Bantu Lodge in the foothills of Mount Kenya near Naru Moru, we were driven to the Gathiuru Forest Station this morning to begin our trek to Lenana Point. We’re standing in the middle of a dusty road anxiously waiting to begin hiking, while our guide Peter and our porters organize all our camping equipment and make their final checks. Looking out over some potato fields, we can see the jagged peaks of Mount Kenya looming in the distance.
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As soon as Peter and the porters are packed up and ready, we set out on a trail across the potato fields. A couple farmers working in the field came over to say hi to us. Using Peter as our translator, they enthusiastically show us how they were planting chunks of old potatoes that had eyes on them. We are then told that the government cuts down trees in this area to be used for lumber and then replants saplings in their places. While the trees are still young and not taking up much space or creating any shade, the farmers are allowed to cultivate the land in between the saplings until they grow into mature trees. At that point, the farmers move on to another similar tree plot until those trees also become more mature. The process keeps repeating itself, so the locals always have land to farm and trees can continue to be replanted for lumber purposes.
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Following the short walk through these potato fields, we enter a forest of podocarpus and African pencil cedar trees that quickly becomes quite dense. The trees tower high above the trail and their tops knock together in the wind making sounds that were a bit creepy. Dave mentions that the path felt like a “tree cave”, with the trees so tall and dense above us that they block out most of the sunlight.
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After walking for a solid hour through this “tree cave” forest, we see all the porters sitting near the edge of the trail taking a break. Peter announces that since everyone is here, it would be a good time to introduce the team to us. Peter then introduces each assistant and porter by name. Our crew consists of:
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George, the tall and lanky assistant guide, is wearing a New Zealand All Blacks rugby shirt.
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David, the cook, is wearing an “El Toro Mexican Food” shirt from somewhere in Florida. I ask him if we’ll be having tacos for dinner, but I don’t think he understands what I’m talking about.
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And then there are the porters:
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Steven appears to be the oldest in the group. He speaks in a very deep voice, and seems to be a very personable guy. I’m later told by one of the other porters that he is always telling stories and jokes, and is generally the source of entertainment for the rest of the team.
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The next one is another David. He has a shaved head and looks like he's probably the most handsome guy of the bunch.
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Charles has a thick head of hair and is the porter assigned to carry my blue North Face duffel bag.
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Samuel is wearing a Towson University hat. In a few days time, he’ll swap the Towson hat for a beanie, and I’ll keep getting him confused with Charles.
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Harrison is obviously the youngest. He has the look of innocence and excitement in his eyes.
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Craig, Dave, and I then introduce ourselves. Dave gets a chuckle when he introduces himself as “yet another David”.
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I had been taking notes in my pocket Moleskine notebook as the porters were introduced, so I would be able to remember their names. Later, Peter informed me that because I was taking notes and carrying a large DSLR camera, the porters all concluded that I must be a professional journalist. I think they were disappointed when they found out that I was only an engineer.
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<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8584472346/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Giant Bamboo Forest by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Giant Bamboo Forest" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8227/8584472346_c06553ebb4_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>After leaving the “tree cave” forest, we enter a section of thick bamboo. This isn’t the giant bamboo that is at tonight’s camp. This bamboo is so thick that we can barely see off either side of the trail, but it’s short height leaves us exposed to the sun from above.
Suddenly, Charles stops in front of me, as the other porters have gone silent and stopped in front of him. He signals with his hand for us to be silent. It’s a bit nerve racking to watch the porters, as they appear to be very concerned about something. They are alertly listening and watching. It’s only after a few minutes of silence that they relax and inform us that they saw some very fresh elephant dung and were worried that there was an elephant hiding in the bamboo near us. Luckily, they inform us that it seems to have walked in the opposite direction. Whew!
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The bamboo forest slowly gets taller and less dense and is intermixed with some huge moss-covered trees. I think to myself that this trail feels like it is straight out of a fairy tale.
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Around 3:30pm we walk into camp, which is set amongst the tallest bamboo stalks that I have ever seen, where the porters are busy setting up our tents. Besides the dining tent, I notice that there are only two sleeping tents, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure that we had requested single tents. After bringing this up with Peter and him showing us a piece of paper with our itinerary information, a long discussion ensues. Eventually, we realize that there was some obvious confusion, so Dave and I volunteer to share a tent with each other. [It should be noted that the agency back in Nairobi and the tour company in Toronto offered their sincerest apology for this mix-up, and compensated us by upgrading us at our hotels back in Nairobi and in Arusha].<br />
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At dinner, I barely have an appetite and actually haven’t had much of one for the last few days. Since this included some time spent in Singapore, which is more or less at sea level, I’m pretty sure that it’s not altitude-related. I really wish I were hungrier though, since it takes a high calorie intake to be able to successfully complete any high altitude trek.
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<br />
While I’m sipping my soup, I look at Craig and notice that he must be feeling even worse than me. His head is in his hand, and he hasn’t even touched his soup yet.
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<br />
“You feeling okay, Craig?” I ask.
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<br />
“Not really. I have a headache and am a bit nauseous. I think I’m gonna go grab a Tylenol from my tent,” he says as he gets up and leaves.
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<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8573210783/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Giant Bamboo Camp Panorama by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Giant Bamboo Camp Panorama" height="140" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8111/8573210783_7382106475_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>Our main courses are served in heaping portions. I’m only able to force down about half of it, whereas Dave is able to devour the entire plate and even asks for more. He’s obviously feeling great. Peter notices, however, that Craig barely touched his food. Peter then reveals that he can ask the cook to make some local “medicine” for Craig. The three of us exchange looks of concern as we wonder what kind of African “medicine” the cook was going to brew up. Craig quickly points out that he’s already taken some medicine of his own. Peter then goes on to tell us that the medicine consists of boiling water with lemon, ginger, honey, and shallots. Relief spreads across our faces as we realize that actually sounds really good! All three of us end up asking if we can have some.<br />
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We then move outside and sit around a small campfire that the porters have built and sip on our “medicine”. Personally, I would have eliminated the shallots and had more ginger, but I’m in no place to complain out here.
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<br />
Craig is the first to announce that he’s heading back to his tent to sleep, and Dave and I follow soon afterwards.<br />
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<i>To be continued.... </i><i> </i><i> (Click <a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-2-burguret-route.html">here</a> for Day 2)</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
You can view all my photos from Mount Kenya by clicking <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157632903837945/with/8588612916/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
.
. . . . . . .</div>
<br />
<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/02/success-lenana-peak-mt-kenya.html" target="">Global Goebel Travels: Success! Lenana Peak, Mt. Kenya</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com2Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-57760305382489648802013-03-22T21:12:00.000-05:002013-03-25T16:20:27.158-05:00One Day In Bahrain<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8557845812/" target="_blank" title="Do you think this grass will clean my teeth? by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Do you think this grass will clean my teeth?" height="425" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8102/8557845812_0d4fe829a8_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
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<i>As the "Arab Spring" spread through the Middle East, Bahraini citizens began their own uprising in February of 2011 with hope of gaining more political freedom and more respect for human rights from the monarchy. These protests and riots are still breaking out on a regular basis in this small island country in the Persian Gulf. More than 80 people have died in Bahrain during two years of political unrest. However, during my recent trip to Bahrain, everything was quiet.
</i>
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<br />
As you may have guessed, Bahrain was not in the original plans for my Kilimanjaro-climbing trip. When booking my flights to/from Nairobi using frequent flyer miles, I ended up with a three-day stopover in Dubai. At the time, I was thrilled since I had never been to Dubai and was curious about seeing Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world, as well as some of the other architectural gems of the gulf city-state. Little did I know that two months after confirming my Nairobi flights, I would end up on a flight for work that included a 19-hour Dubai layover that was more than enough time for me to get a taste of the overdone Middle Eastern excess of the city. Immediately, I began to brainstorm other alternatives for my Dubai stopover.
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<i>Where else could I go in the region so I don't have to waste three entire days in Dubai? Abu Dhabi? Kuwait? Qatar? Wait!.... Jordan isn't that far away, and I've always wanted to see Petra. Maybe the time is now!
</i>
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In the process of looking flights from Dubai to Amman, Jordan, I stumbled upon a flight on Gulf Air that had a 9am to 6pm layover in Bahrain. Having never been to Bahrain, I decided a layover with this perfect midday timing was an ideal excuse to see this tiny country.
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6d/Protesters_fests_toward_Pearl_roundabout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img alt="by Bahrain in pictures [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)] via Wikimedia Commons" border="0" height="212" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6d/Protesters_fests_toward_Pearl_roundabout.jpg" title="" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">by Bahrain in pictures<br />
[CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)]<br />
via Wikimedia Commons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was vaguely aware of some rioting that had gone on there during the beginning of the Arab Spring, but admittedly knew very little about the current situation. I just decided that if riots were ongoing in central Manama in the days leading up to my stopover, then I'd just chill out in the airport all day and sort through photos from my African trip.
<br />
<br />
Since my priorities for this three-and-a-half week trip were Mount Kenya and Mount Kilimanjaro, I did very little research about travel in Bahrain. I basically knew: Bahrain is a small island nation connected to Saudi Arabia by a bridge, Saudis like to visit Bahrain on the weekends since Bahrain has looser liquor laws, and Manama has a cool skyscraper with wind turbines integrated into the design. I knew I didn’t really have the time to plan out my full day in the country effectively, so I hired a private tour guide service that I found on TripAdvisor.
<br />
<br />
By Bahrain in pictures , via Wikimedia Commons<br />
<br />
Upon arrival at Bahrain International Airport, I was told that I had to wait while the immigration police ran a background check on my passport since this was my first time in Bahrain. This didn’t worry me too much, since the guy in front of me was in the same situation. I just hoped that it wouldn’t delay my tour by too long. Luckily, about 15 minutes later, my passport was returned to me, and I was on my way out of the airport.
<br />
<br />
On the drive from the airport, Hadi, my guide, told me some of the highlights of the country and gave me a brief rundown on the history and demographics of Bahrain. Although I had already chosen a tour from the company’s website that included photo stops at the Bahrain World Trade Center and Bahrain Financial Harbor, I told the guide that I was particularly interested in photographing these modern skyscrapers. He acknowledged my request and then proceeded to tell me that we’d first be going to a museum and then a camel farm. I can’t say that either was on my “must see” list, but he convinced me that the Bahrain National Museum was one of the best in the region. I reluctantly agreed after he told me that we didn’t really have time to drive out to the desert to see the A’Ali Burial Mounds, but the museum had an excellent display about them.
<br />
<br />
[Oddly enough, after finishing my tour, I reread the tour company’s webpage and saw that the A’Ali Burial Mounds were located on the way to the camel farm.]
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/potomo/5400217813/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Burial Mounds 01 by potomo, on Flickr"><img alt="Burial Mounds 01" height="213" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5212/5400217813_6d07a6d0eb_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/potomo/" target="_blank">potomo</a>'s Flickr photostream<br />
Licensed via Creative Commons [CC BY-ND 2.0]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>More than 100,000 burial mounds once dotted the main island of Bahrain. In fact, Bahrain was once considered to be one of the largest cemeteries in the world. Most of these burial sites are attributed to the Dilmun civilization, which was an ancient trading hub that connected Mesopotamia, South Arabia, and India. Sadly, less than one-fifth of these burial mounds remain. Attempts to protect the burial mounds have run into opposition by religious fundamentalists who consider them un-Islamic, and have called for them to be buried in concrete to create more room for modern housing. During a parliamentary debate on July 17, 2005, Sheikh Adel Mouwdah, the leader of the Salafist Asalah party in Bahrain, said “Housing for the living is better than the graves for the dead. We must have pride in our Islamic roots and not some ancient civilization from another place and time, which has only given us a jar here and a bone there.”
</i>
<br />
<br />
<i>Thankfully, there is some hope to preserve the remaining burial mounds. In 2008, Bahrain successfully placed 11 of the burial sites on the World Heritage tentative list, which is the first step a country can make to get a site considered for inclusion on the list. I can only hope that the World Heritage Convention adds the Bahrain burial mounds to its protected list.
</i>
<br />
<br />
When we showed up at the Bahrain National Museum, there wasn’t anyone sitting at the front desk, so Hadi decided we should just walk in. The museum does have great exhibits documenting the country’s history from prehistoric times to the present with explanations posted in both Arabic and English. The exhibits on the burial mounds and on the traditional pearling industry were indeed interesting. I would have preferred that my guide just let me roam around the museum on my own for an hour or so, but instead he insisted on showing me his favorite sections. Not being much of a museum person in the first place, I found myself getting bored fairly quickly, especially as my guide attempted to read the English placards out loud to me. This proved only two things to me: 1) My guide could speak English well, but reading it was another story. 2) He was pretty clueless about any history that pre-dated Islam.
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<br />
On our way out of the museum, there was a guy sitting at the front desk. I’m sure we could have walked right out the door without ever buying an entrance ticket, but Hadi did the right thing and explained to him that we didn’t pay on the way in because no one was at the desk.
<br />
<br />
When we got to the car, Hadi announced that we would go to the camel farm next. I thought about telling him that I wasn’t really interested in the camel farm, but then decided that it may be worth it for some close-up photos of camels.
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<br />
Driving through central Manama, Hadi explained that the city was especially quiet since it was a Saturday. Bahrainis tend to stay up late on Friday nights and enjoy an easy Saturday. Downtown was so quiet that I had to wonder if any of it also had to do with the recent riots.
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<br />
Hadi pointed out the World Trade Center, Financial Harbor, and a few other notable buildings as we drove by them. I reiterated the fact that I was interested in stopping to photograph them at some point on our tour. Hadi replied that parking was difficult in the area (despite the city being almost empty on this particular Saturday morning), but we could stop somewhere for the photos later.
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aljazeeraenglish/5459131935/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Pearl Monument by Al Jazeera English, on Flickr"><img alt="Pearl Monument" height="180" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5295/5459131935_813bd3fe70_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aljazeeraenglish/" target="_blank">Al Jazeera English</a>'s Flickr photostream<br />
Licensed via Creative Commons [CC BY-SA 2.0]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During my brief internet research prior to the trip, I had seen photos of a large “Pearl Monument” at the center of a major roundabout in Manama. I asked Hadi if it was on our way to the camel farm. He then informed me that it had been torn down to make way for new construction.
<br />
<br />
<i>Bahrain initially earned its riches through the pearling industry and had a large pearl monument built in 1982 to commemorate the nation's history of pearl cultivation. However, during my quick internet research, I seemed to have missed the fact that this monument also became the center of the Bahraini uprising, and on March 18, 2001, the government announced that the monument had been "violated" and "desecrated" by the "vile" anti-government protests and had to be "cleansed". In other words, it was destroyed. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8556737255/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Smile!... You're on Candid Camel! by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Smile!... You're on Candid Camel!" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8110/8556737255_578b804415_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>The Al-Janabiya camel farms are located along the King Fahad Causeway, which is the highway connecting Bahrain to Saudi Arabia. Upon arrival at the farm, there weren’t any tickets or attendants, only a sign listing rules for visitors, such as “Don’t feed the camels” and “Keep a safe distance when photographing the camels”. There were probably close to 100 camels at the farm, separated into different groups based on age and gender. All of the camels were tied with chains around their ankles, which gave the place more of a camel prison look than of a camel farm look. It was unclear what all these camels are actually used for or what they are doing on this farm. After walking around and taking more than enough close-up photos of camels, Hadi asked me if I was hungry and wanted to go to lunch next.
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<br />
Hadi took me to a small outdoor restaurant tucked into one of the narrow alleyways in the old section of central Manama near Bab al-Bahrain (The Gateway of Bahrain). The same Pakistani family has supposedly run the restaurant for several generations. We had some vegetable curry and lamb biryani, which were both quite delicious. Unfortunately, I didn’t take note of the name of this restaurant or its exact location.
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<br />
After lunch, we took a quick walk through the souq, which like the rest of the city, seemed eerily quiet on this particular day. I probably should have taken a photo of Bab al-Bahrain, but I wasn’t satisfied with the lighting when we walked by it. Interestingly enough, Bab al-Bahrain used to lie near the seafront when it was built in 1945. However, due to extensive land reclamation, the building is now several kilometers from the sea.
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<br />
Our next stop was going to be the Al-Fateh Grand Mosque. Driving down King Faisal Highway, Hadi slowed down the car and said, “There’s not much traffic today. I’ll slow down so you can get your photo of the World Trade Center.” I excitedly dug my camera out of the bag between my feet. Then, I pressed the button to open the window, and…… nothing happened. Hadi informed me that “Sorry, that window doesn’t work.” Since we were in the middle of highway, I didn’t have time to complain. I just took some quick shots through the window. I thought that I got an angle that avoided a glare from the sun, but after reviewing the shots on my laptop later at the airport, I realized there was still a glare visible in all the photos. I guess my award-winning photo of the Bahrain World Trade Center just wasn’t meant to be.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8556735801/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="World Trade Center, Bahrain Style by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="World Trade Center, Bahrain Style" height="266" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8085/8556735801_741ff8fba1_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<i>Like most gulf countries, Bahrain experienced a building boom in the late 90’s early 00’s. Land was being reclaimed from the sea, sometimes in creative shapes like a horseshoe. Magnificent skyscrapers were being built with designs of which had never seen before. There were no limits.
</i>
<br />
<br />
<i>… And then, like most of the world, it was caught off guard when the global economy crashed in 2008. Although some of the land reclamation and skyscraper construction was complete, many of the projects were left abandoned when the financial backers for the projects either went bankrupt or pulled out. Thankfully, one of the more innovative ones, the World Trade Center and its integrated wind turbines, was completed before the economy soured too much.
</i>
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<br />
Having lived and worked in Muslim-majority countries (Malaysia and Indonesia) for nearly ten years now, as well as having traveled extensively, I didn’t have very high expectations for a mosque that is younger than me. Upon arrival, I was asked to remove my shoes, which is usual etiquette inside mosques. I was told that an English language tour just began, so I was quickly shuffled off to join it. Hadi said he was going to take the time to pray, and he’d meet back up with me after my tour finishes.
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8557035202/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Muslim Man Studying The Koran by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Muslim Man Studying The Koran" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8507/8557035202_3ec25c89ce_n.jpg" width="266" /></a>Our mosque guide was a 20-something-year-old guy that was originally from Uzbekistan. He came to Bahrain to work another job, but volunteers to give mosque tours in his free time. He spoke excellent English, and it was apparent from the beginning of the tour that he really enjoyed being a tour guide. His enthusiasm seemed truly genuine. As he led us into the central prayer room, he shared plenty of facts about the mosque and its construction, including that it has the world’s largest fiberglass dome and many of the building materials were imported from exotic places like Italy, Austria, and Scotland. He then proceeded to explain some of the basics of Islam, including what their main prayers are (in both Arabic and English). Next, he asked two of the other guys in the group to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him so he could show us how Muslims pray. I was so glad he didn’t choose me, since it was entertaining to watch the look on the other guys’ faces as he led them step by step through the basic prayer movements, including getting down on their hands and knees in prostration. Although it may have been funny to watch the two non-Muslim guys prostrate, it was actually the best demonstration of Islam and how Muslims pray that I had ever seen.
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<br />
As a whole, I was truly impressed with the Al-Fateh mosque tour and would highly recommend it to anyone who is in Bahrain, regardless of whether you are interested in Islam or mosques. I know my words probably don’t make it sound that great, but it was a very interesting and educational tour (without being boring).
<br />
<br />
After the tour was complete, the guide offered to answer any questions that we may have about the mosque, about Islam, or about him in general. He also offered us free Korans (in English), as well as several free pamphlets on the religion. Since I already had a free copy of the Koran, I took a pamphlet called “Who is Mohammed?”, thanked the guide, and went to the front of the mosque to reunite with Hadi.
<br />
<br />
Back in the car, I asked, “So, what’s next?” I was hoping that Hadi would say that we are going back to the World Trade Center or Financial Harbor. However, that was not the case. I really wasn’t meant to get great photos of those buildings.
<br />
<br />
“We need to start heading back towards the airport. But, on the way, we will stop at the Sheikh Isa Bin Ali Al-Khalifa historic house. It’s in Muharraq, which is in the same area as the airport.”
<br />
<br />
Although the Sheikh’s former house was an interesting look into how rich Bahrainis lived in the 19th century, it would have been much better if there were some furniture in the house and some placards on the walls to explain what each room was used for.
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<br />
I’m not sure what it was about Bahrain, but even with my subpar tour guide and the fact that I missed out of some of the better sites of the city, I was heading back to the airport with good thoughts about this place. I actually enjoyed my layover here, and I can’t place my finger on why that is. Maybe it was something about the welcoming feel of the Al-Fateh mosque tour that made me leave with a peaceful feeling.
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<br />
My suggestion is that anyone with a layover on Gulf Air doesn’t just hang out at the airport, but go into the city. Although it might not be as glamorous as Dubai, a Bahrain stopover is worth it. It seemed friendlier and more open to foreigners (and not just our wallets) than most of the other gulf countries. However, if you do go, just get a taxi and go where you want. Don’t bother with an overpriced tour guide like I did.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8557843558/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Backlit Minaret by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Backlit Minaret" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8096/8557843558_8b4a1157ce_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
With the current political turmoil and ongoing demonstrations, I don’t know what the future holds for Bahrain. I’d like to think that the people of Bahrain will continue to gain more personal freedoms, and the country as a whole maintains its openness to foreigners and diversity as it has for centuries.
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<i>[An interesting side note: The current Bahraini ambassador to the United States is a Jewish woman and the ambassador to Great Britain is a Christian woman. This would be unheard of anywhere else in the Arab world.]
</i>
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[If nothing else, Bahrain has inspired my longest blog post to date. Thank you for reading this far.]
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-17420590728334702382013-03-12T03:28:00.002-05:002013-03-25T23:50:55.709-05:00Conquering Kilimanjaro<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8525607340/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="We made it! by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="We made it!" height="427" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8232/8525607340_1a3276b200_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>I’m at the top of Africa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the highest point on the earth between the Himalayas and the Andes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is Uhuru Peak on Mount
Kilimanjaro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sun is rising
over the horizon, which looks endless from this elevation on the highest
freestanding mountain in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Taking my camera out of my bag requires extra concentration from my
oxygen-deprived brain and extra effort from my fingers that have been numbed by
the bitterly cold wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m nearly
overcome by emotion as Aloyce,
my guide, hugs me and says “Congratulations!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made it!</i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aminieli,
one of our porters, shakes my tent at 10:35pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d barely slept in the last four hours after dinner; my
mind was filled with anxious thoughts about making it to Kili’s summit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, yesterday when we arrived at
the Barafu
base camp, we watched as several dazed-looking people, barely able to walk on their
own, were being led down with arms over the shoulders of their guides and
assistants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One relatively
fit-looking guy in his 20s or 30s was even being led down with an oxygen mask
over his nose and mouth.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8551217754/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="My Kili Trekking Group by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="My Kili Trekking Group" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8101/8551217754_006444176c_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>My group gathers in the dining tent to drink some tea and
eat some biscuits (or what we Americans call <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">cookies</i>) prior to setting out on our all-night hike to attempt to
reach the summit at sunrise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Besides myself, there’s four Canadians in my group:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave, a 32-year old engineer from
Edmonton; Craig, a 50-year old IT consultant from Regina; and Stacy, a 40-year
old airplane mechanic, and his wife Christine, an airline pilot, from
Toronto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span>Aloyce informs us that coffee is off limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He is afraid it will make our hearts beat too quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s probably right, since the strain
on our hearts will already be increased due to the increased exertion by our
bodies walking up the last 1262
meters (4102 feet) of the mountain while only getting about half the amount of oxygen with
each breath as we would normally get at sea level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, it’s dark outside, and I just woke up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d really like some coffee, but
reluctantly settle for black tea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The camp waiter, Abraham, gives us each a juice box and two chocolate
bars to take in our backpacks in case we need some extra energy along the way.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we set out from camp, Aloyce tells us that Samuel, one of the assistant
guides, will stay back with Craig, since he prefers to walk slower and to take
more frequent water breaks as we hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Aloyce</span> will
lead us others, and Obadia,
another assistant guide, will follow behind us four.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Aloyce</span>
insists on carrying Stacy’s backpack and asks Stacy to carry Christine’s much
lighter backpack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although this is
their first high altitude trek, they are both in fairly good shape, and Stacy
initially refuses to let Aloyce carry his pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, Aloyce convinces him that it’s for the best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also tells Samuel to carry Craig’s
pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we are reminded that a
successful attempt at the summit requires determination, a positive attitude,
good teamwork, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pole pole</i>.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pole pole</i>” is a
phrase you hear often while climbing Kilimanjaro.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Swahili, it means “go slowly”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When hiking at high altitudes, it is one of the most
important keys to successfully making it to your destination while minimizing
the chances of altitude sickness.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here we go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s 11:30pm and we are on our way to Uhuru Peak.<br />
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* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are definitely going <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pole
pole</i> now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like I’m
walking in slow motion, just one foot in front of the other, pause a second,
then the other foot, pause, and repeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m wearing a headlamp and all that I can see is the back of the person
in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure
how I’m going to make it through the next six hours or so of this.<br />
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My fingers are numb from the cold wind, despite wearing two
pairs of gloves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keep flexing
them around my trekking pole handles to keep the blood flowing.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn’t sure how many layers of clothing to wear, but decided
to err on the side of wearing too much. On top, I’m wearing an REI synthetic
base layer, an Icebreaker wool t-shirt, a thick Icebreaker 260 wool pullover, a
Marmot <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Windstopper</i> fleece, a Marmot
down jacket, and a Marmot <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Goretex</i> Pro
shell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For bottoms, I’m wearing a
pair of polypropylene underwear, REI long underwear, Patagonia capilene long
underwear, some Marmot soft-shell pants, and a pair of Marmot wind/rain
pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My extremities are
protected by two pairs of socks, including an extra thick pair of SmartWool mountaineering extra heavy socks<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span>; gaiters; Goretex hiking boots; a
balaclava and hat; and two pairs of gloves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right now, I’m thankful for each and every layer I’m
wearing.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About once an hour, we stop for short break. Each of us
drinks some water and maybe takes a bite of a snack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave smokes a cigarette.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aloyce also checks on how everyone is doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doesn’t say it, but I can tell that
he’s watching us closely for signs of altitude sickness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doesn’t let us linger long at the
break spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He says he doesn’t
want us to get too cold or to get too sleepy.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We continue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up
and up some more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Step by
step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pole pole</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8550118887/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Kili's Kibo Crater by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Kili's Kibo Crater" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8523/8550118887_6fbd7aa370_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>
At around 2:30am, Dave starts swerving back and forth like
he’s drunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Aloyce</span> notices and stops
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tells Obadia, “Take his
backpack,” and to Dave in a stern fatherly voice, “No more cigarettes for you
on this climb!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave hands over
his backpack and sits down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
eyes look lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m worried for
him, but after drinking some water and resting a few minutes, the glaze in his
eyes starts to disappear.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We continue on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m the only one carrying my own backpack now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope I can make it all the way.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s harder to think straight at the decreased oxygen levels
of high altitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To keep my mind
going and to minimize the monotony of one slow step after another in the dark,
I try calculating the Fibonacci series in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">1 1 2 3 5…</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After getting stuck at the number 5, I try to count in
Bahasa Indonesia, the language of the country where I work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Satu, Dua, Tiga…</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I make it to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tiga</i>,
or three, and can't remember the next number.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Then, I start
repeating the ABCs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is I can
handle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I make it all the way to
Z.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great, my mind is operating at
the level of a five-year old at this altitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
keep repeating, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ABCDEFG</i>….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least it keeps my mind off my numb
fingers and toes and the fact that we are only about halfway to the summit.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A B C D E F G…</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of the walk consists of zigzagging through volcanic scree up a consistent
incline of about 10-20 degrees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not steep, but at high altitude everything seems more difficult.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">…H I J K… </i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we get higher, it feels like our <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pole pole</i> pace keeps getting even slower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My toes are getting numb now too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish we could walk faster just to increase the circulation
to my extremities, but I know that our heart and lungs probably can’t handle
going any faster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each step seems
to take extra effort just to make it happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure if it’s the lack of oxygen or lack of sleep,
but I’m getting sleepy and starting to get intermittent headaches that only
last for a minute or two each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We’re almost
there,” says Aloyce,
as our pace slows to the point where there are sometimes what feels like
minutes passing between each step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And then, around 5am, we reach a flatter area and a large sign denoting
Stella’s Point, the rim of the Kibo crater.<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Aloyce</span> gives us quick
congratulations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m surprised
that we’re here already and the sun hasn’t even risen yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Based on Stacey and Christine’s
reaction, I think they are under the impression that this is the summit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know it’s not the summit, but I’m
wondering how long the walk takes to Uhuru Peak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a feeling that it’s further away than I think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grab a quick drink of water, and Aloyce tells us we need
to continue before we get too cold here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We still have 156m (512ft)<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span> to ascend.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pole pole</i>, we
continue along the crater rim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
least the incline is a gentler slope now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8550118265/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="I'm beginning to see the light by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="I'm beginning to see the light" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8110/8550118265_22aaa3bc96_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>
Just before 6am, we take another break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Aloyce</span> tells us to look behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sunlight is beginning to trace the
outline of the horizon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From this
height, you can see the curvature of the earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a beautiful sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My cold fingers fumble with my camera case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems like I will never get the
buckle undone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, I get
it and quickly snap a few photos, not paying any attention to what settings I’m
using on the camera.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m too
deprived of oxygen to think that much.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">…L M N O P…</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Uhuru Peak can’t be too far from here, I think to
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really wish the sun
would rise faster and warm up my fingers and toes.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are a few times when Christine’s pace slows to a stop. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m behind her and am secretly thankful
she’s slowed down so I can catch my breath.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christine sounds exhausted as she asks, “Stacy, how are you
feeling?”.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Okay,” Stacy barely mutters in response.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pole pole</i>, we
carry on.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">…Q R S… </i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My eyes open suddenly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wait, was I sleeping?<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
fell asleep standing up!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a good thing I have these trekking poles to lean on.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hmmmm…. Did Aloyce or anyone else see me?<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christine is still stopped in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m staring at her shoes.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whew!... I don’t think anyone noticed my little standing
nap.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m so cold and tired.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But really…. when is someone going to offer to carry my
backpack?<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just want to get to the summit and be done with this.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">…T U V…</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christine says she needs a break.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aloyce tells Obadia to go ahead with Dave and me.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just hope we’re close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I no longer care about the sunrise and summit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just want to get this over with and
return to an altitude with more oxygen and warmer temperatures.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…W X Y Z<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8551219894/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="A Glacier and My Shadow by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="A Glacier and My Shadow" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8095/8551219894_5d2cb6385c_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>
Some glaciers are visible off to the left side, as the sky
is slowly becoming brighter.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then, there it is….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see the sign up ahead marking Uhuru Peak, Africa’s highest
point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only thing with which I can compare this feeling is the
feeling of finishing my first (and only) marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this might even surpass that on the scale of elation and
feeling of accomplishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
pushed limits of determination and physical ability.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just like that, the sun rises over the horizon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perfect timing!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I suddenly forget all about my cold fingers and toes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even my mind seems to be thinking more
clearly.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are about 20 other people waiting around the sign for
their turn to get their photo taken in front of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a bit chaotic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Someone hands me a camera and I take a photo of his group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I hand the camera back to its
owner, another group butts in front of me and Dave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waiting in line seems to be a common courtesy that is lost
when people are lacking oxygen.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s our turn for a photo now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hand my camera to Obadia.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” utters Dave.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope he can hold it in until this photo is finished.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The photos are taken quickly and someone else pushes forward
to have their turn in front of the sign.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dave doesn’t throw up, but he also can’t gather up enough
energy to get his camera out of his backpack.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This really is an amazing experience to be standing on the
top of Africa, and seeing the sun rise over the horizon.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stacy, Christine, and Aloyce show up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Aloyce</span> hugs me, congratulates me, and says to me, “Imara kama simba” – a Swahili
phrase meaning “strong like a lion” that I had learned along the way and had
fun saying to various porters along the way who asked how I was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8551216690/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Cold and exhausted, but I made it! by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Cold and exhausted, but I made it!" height="200" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8526/8551216690_20a02e021b.jpg" width="150" /></a>
I’m starting to get emotional, so I step off to the side to
take some photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
I also record a
video on my iPhone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later when I
watch that video, I notice that my voice doesn’t sound the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess that was another effect of the
low oxygen levels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe I was
just that emotional at being on the summit of the iconic Mount Kilimanjaro.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aloyce calls for me to join Stacy, Christine, and Dave for
another photo in front of the sign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I hustle over to join them, even though I feel like running around the
rim and snapping photos of every view available in my newfound high altitude
euphoria.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’d better get going,” says Aloyce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“It’s not good for us to stay here too long.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8550119423/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank" title="Neighbors by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Neighbors" height="213" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8087/8550119423_600310d6b1_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>
And with that, we start heading back down.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hand my trekking poles to Obadia, so I can take some photos as we walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I snap some quick shots the shadow of
Kilimanjaro, visible close to Mount Meru (the second tallest mountain in Tanzania).<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we approach the glacier, we run into Craig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has less than ten minutes
of walking now to make it to the summit. I’m glad to see he’s going to make the summit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I'm glad that we all made it.</span> Before Craig heads on to the summit, Aloyce convinces us to have a group photo
of all five of us in front of the glacier.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the quick photo session, Craig continues towards the
summit, and we continue downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I take several quick photos of the glaciers as we walk by.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I still can’t believe how awesome this is and how great I
feel now!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m probably just
semi-delirious from the lack of oxygen, but I don’t care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least my head doesn’t hurt, and my
fingers and toes aren’t frozen numb anymore.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Obadia,
Dave, and I head down the <span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span>scree-filled
slope at a fairly quick pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On
the way down, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pole pole</i> no longer
applies.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My knees start hurting as they get pounded on some of the
rockier parts of the trail, but I don’t care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My tent back at Barafu Camp is calling my name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The quicker I get there, the more time I’ll have for a nap
before hiking on to Mweka
Camp.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s right…. Today’s hiking doesn’t end when we get back
to base camp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We still have
another 4-5 hours descent beyond Barafu,… but I’ll worry about that after my
nap.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* * * * * * *<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"></span>Obadia,
Dave, and I stroll into camp around 9am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Abraham congratulates us and gives us a cup of pineapple juice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We quickly gulp it down and then head
for our tents.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once inside, I can’t even gather up the energy to pack up my
bag or even change clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I strip
off a couple outer layers and then pass out on top of my sleeping bag.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lala kama simba.<br />
<br />
The lion sleeps.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Jambo, jambo bwana</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Habari gani</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Nzuri sana</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Wageni, mwakaribishwa</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Kilimanjaro hakuna matata </i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
[Thanks to <a href="http://www.himalayanexpeditions.com/" target="_blank">Canadian Himalayan Expeditions</a> for organizing this Kilimanjaro trip for me.]</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Watch my video from the summit:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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</div>
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com4Jakarta, Indonesia-6.211544 106.84517200000005-6.716652 106.19972500000004 -5.706436 107.49061900000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-69900986915854047842013-03-01T00:00:00.000-06:002013-03-01T00:00:03.099-06:00Travel Tip: Currency Exchange in Burma<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8471933289/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="Kyat Attack by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Kyat Attack" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8247/8471933289_43be3d3f34_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Goebel</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The currency in Burma is known as the Kyat, which when pronounced sounds more like "chat".<br />
<br />
Pretty much every guidebook, travel blog, or message board post will tell you not to exchange money at any official currency exchange location (airports, banks, hotels, etc.). Rather, they'll tell you to exchange your money on the black market, which involves approaching some shady characters on street corners, in public parks, or in traditional markets.<br />
<br />
Let me tell you, Burma is a country that is changing at a very rapid pace, and this "common" travel advice is now outdated and irrelevant.<br />
<a name='more'></a>From 2001 to early 2012, the official exchange rate set by the Burmese government was usually around 6 kyat per one US dollar. However, you could easily find a man on the street that would give you a rate more on the order of 1000 kyat per dollar, which was closer to what kyat were actually worth in real world financial markets. One of the great mysteries of this whole situation was where did these black market guys get the currency in the first place and how are they able to sell it at rate that was so different from the official bank rate. <br />
<br />
When I traveled to Burma last October, I was still under the impression that the black market was the place where all money should be exchanged. Nonetheless, I decided to have a quick look at the Yangon airport exchange rate while I was waiting for my luggage to arrive on the carousel. I was surprised to see that it was listed as 850 kyat to the dollar. Staring at the sign in disbelief, I decided to exchange some dollars there so I'd have some kyat to start out my journey since I was short on small denomination US dollar bills.<br />
<br />
Walking down the street from my Yangon hotel later that day, I was approached by more than one guy offering me to exchange money. Each time, I'd ask him what his rate was, just so I could verify that the black market wasn't suddenly 10,000 kyat per dollar. But they'd always be in the range of 840 to 855 kyat. <br />
<br />
In the end, I ended up exchanging all of my money at Burmese airports, and I'd recommend you do the same. Personally, I don't fully trust the guys on the street. You have to be much more careful counting the money they give you, just in case they either miscount or slip some smaller notes into a stack of larger denomination notes. Also, counting out a stack of money on a public street is never a wise thing to do, regardless of the country you're in.<br />
<br />
After returning home from my trip, I discovered that the Burmese central bank decided to allow the kyat's value to be determined by a managed float system in April 2012. This allows actual market conditions to determine the kyat's value, keeps it in line with the black market rate, and encourages foreign investment in the country.<br />
<br />
For more information about the change to the managed float system in Burma, <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-17581115" target="_blank">click here</a>.<br />
<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-69951451619835808162013-02-23T08:43:00.002-06:002013-04-21T19:39:34.352-05:00Success! Lenana Peak, Mt. Kenya<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8498597800/in/photostream" target="_blank"><img alt="Lenana Peak, Mt. Kenya" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8386/8498597800_b8a7cdfffa_z.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">© Ryan Goebel, 2013</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Thursday, 21 February 2013, at around 7am (Kenya time), I successfully made it to the top of Lenana Peak on Mount Kenya.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>This peak is the so-called “trekker’s summit” of the mountain. No technical climbing experience or equipment is required to make it to the top. The only special skill required is the ability to walk.<br />
<br />
Lenana is <i>only</i> the third highest peak on the mountain. Batian Peak at 5199 m / 17,057 ft and Nelion Peak at 5188 m / 17,021 ft are taller.<br />
<br />
Although Lenana is listed as being at an elevation of 4985m / 16,355ft above sea level, my friend Dave’s GPS showed an 5005m / 16,421ft when we were there. This is an elevation that I’ve passed several times on previous treks.<br />
<br />
Our primary reason for signing up for the Mt. Kenya trek was for acclimatization and a warm-up hike prior to climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro.<br />
<br />
However, Lenana Peak is no walk in the park. It was much more difficult than I expected. I was humbled by everything from altitude sickness to camera malfunctions to a snow storm. But by the end, it was a very beautiful and rewarding trek.<br />
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I will eventually be writing more blog posts with some details of the trek (including some of my worst moments of high altitude sickness ever) and uploading more photos from the trek, but first I have another mountain to climb.<br />
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<i>Kilimanjaro, here I come!
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<i>If you liked this entry, you may also be interested in:</i><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-4-lenana-peak.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 4: Lenana Peak, Reaching The Summit</a><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/04/mount-kenya-day-3-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 3, Burguret Route</a><br />
<i> </i><a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-2-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 2, Burguret Route</a><br />
<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/mount-kenya-day-1-burguret-route.html">Global Goebel Travels: Mount Kenya - Day 1, Burguret Route</a>
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<a href="http://www.globalgoebel.com/2013/03/conquering-kilimanjaro.html">Global Goebel Travels: Conquering Kilimanjaro</a><br />
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<br />Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com1Arusha, Tanzania-3.365789 36.674449999999979-3.492595 36.513088499999981 -3.2389829999999997 36.835811499999977tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-70284160536739399952013-02-15T00:00:00.000-06:002013-02-15T10:13:21.576-06:00The Story Behind The Photo: "Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater<span id="goog_1582161952"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4619013557/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title=""Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt=""Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater" height="425" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4068/4619013557_c2a641a4a9_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>© Ryan Goebel, 2010</i></span></td></tr>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"<b>The Story Behind The Photo</b>" will be a recurring theme here
at Global Goebel Travels, where I choose one of my favorite travel
photos and tell the story behind shooting it.</i></blockquote>
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One of the most popular photos over at my <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/" target="_blank">Flickr</a> site, is "Door to Hell" -- The Darvaza Gas Crater. I took this photo on a trip to Turkmenistan in May 2010.<br />
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The Darvaza Gas Crater is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Turkmenistan and probably one of the most bizarre attractions in the world. This huge burning crater, often referred to by locals as the "The Door To Hell", is located in the middle of the Karakum desert about 260km (160 miles) north of Ashgabat.<br />
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Reports vary as to when and how this huge burning crater was created, but most say that it happened in the early 1970's when a rig drilling for gas hit a giant underground gas-filled cavern which then collapsed. The gas was then purposely ignited to burn it off rather than let it escape to the atmosphere. Some reports claim that this incident happened as early as the 1960's or 1970's.<br />
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Interestingly enough, there is a similar "mud crater" and "water crater" in the area also supposedly caused by industrial accidents. This makes me question whether the Darvaza gas crater was really created by a drilling accident. The fact that they all were made in the Soviet era means that the actual truth behind these craters will probably never be known. <br />
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There's nothing like standing next to this crater at night, feeling the warmth of the fire in the cold desert night, and starting at the flames like it's the world's largest campfire. Occasionally throughout the night, you can see streaks of light over the crater. This is actually the flames reflecting off the bottom of birds as they swoop in the eat insects that are attracted to the light of the fire.<br />
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In recent years, there have been rumors circulating that the Turkmenistan government has been searching for a company with the expertise to seal off the crater. I guess they figure that if there's been enough natural gas there to burn constantly for 40+ years, then maybe they should try to contain it so that it could be added to the country's already huge natural gas reserves.<br />
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To take this photo, I scrambled up a nearby hill (not so easy after consuming a few too many Baltika beers) so that I could get closer to an overhead perspective looking down into the crater as best as I could while still fitting the entire width of the crater into the frame. The rest of my group was still gathered around the crater's rim, and I think this really adds to the photo by giving it some scale.<br />
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Camera: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001G5ZTMM/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B001G5ZTMM&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Canon EOS 5D Mark II</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B001G5ZTMM" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /><br />
Lens: Canon EF24-105mm f/4L IS USM<br />
Aperture: f/4.0<br />
Focal Length: 105mm<br />
ISO Speed: 3200 <br />
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To see more of my photos from Turkmenistan, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/sets/72157624086556652/with/4618235005/" target="_blank">click here</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4626458531/" target="_blank" title="The Giant Plunger by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="The Giant Plunger" height="75" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3371/4626458531_4584fd16f7_q.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4619515024/" target="_blank" title="Nelly Would Be Proud of This Gold-Toothed Grin by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Nelly Would Be Proud of This Gold-Toothed Grin" height="75" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3311/4619515024_f3460b3d2c_q.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4634669666/" target="_blank" title="Winching the Camel by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Winching the Camel" height="75" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4033/4634669666_51da4892c4_q.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4618769306/" target="_blank" title="Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Greatest Leader of Them All? by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Greatest Leader of Them All?" height="75" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3315/4618769306_7632bc9660_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4618235005/" target="_blank" title="Gold Teeth and a Lenin Bust by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Gold Teeth and a Lenin Bust" height="75" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4007/4618235005_ab1b065839_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4618989734/" target="_blank" title="Arch of Neutrality and the Earthquake Monument by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Arch of Neutrality and the Earthquake Monument" height="75" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3373/4618989734_e9163d2ec4_q.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4629635254/" target="_blank" title="Hippodrome by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Hippodrome" height="75" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3359/4629635254_68cf6c1d3a_s.jpg" width="75" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/4628094785/" target="_blank" title="Gypjak Mosque - The largest in Central Asia by www.globalgoebel.com, on Flickr"><img alt="Gypjak Mosque - The largest in Central Asia" height="75" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4036/4628094785_ce0fc0ff8d_q.jpg" width="75" /></a>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>All photos are </i><i>© Ryan Goebel, 2010</i></span></div>
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I booked my trip to Turkmenistan through <a href="http://www.koryogroup.com/turkmenistan/index.html" target="_blank">Koryo Tours</a>, who are more well know for their North Korean trips but happen to also offer 1-2 trips per year to Turkmenistan. <br />
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Have you ever been to Turkmenistan? What did you think? Tell me about it in the comments section below.<br />
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<span id="goog_1582161980"></span><span id="goog_1582161981"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a>Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Singapore1.352083 103.819836000000010.84410649999999987 103.174389 1.8600595 104.46528300000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-40304076197200380062013-02-12T01:43:00.002-06:002013-02-12T20:11:50.840-06:00My Words About Their Words: KilimanjaroAt 19,341ft (5895m) above sea level, Mount Kilimanjaro is the tallest mountain on the African continent and the tallest freestanding mountain in the world. Kilimanjaro is actually a dormant volcano consisting of three volcanic cones: Shira, Mawenzi, and Kibo. Uhuru Peak is the highest point on the rim of Kibo and thus the highest point on the mountain and in Africa. Conveniently, Uhuru Peak can be summitted without any climbing equipment or technical mountain climbing skills. You just have to be able to withstand the effects of an altitude where there's half the amount of oxygen in the air as at sea level, bear the subzero temperatures, and walk to the top. It sounds so simple, but my past experience with high altitude trekking in the Himalayas and written accounts of Kilimanjaro "climbs" tell me otherwise.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeremevee/6130197908/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6087/6130197908_4e1a88026a_z.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeremevee/6130197908/" target="_blank"><i></i></a><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2081780774422951026" target="_blank">Kilimandjaro by Jeremy V on Flickr (used with permission)</a></i></td></tr>
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In preparation for my upcoming "climb" of Kilimanjaro, <br />
<a name='more'></a>I've been reading some literature about the mountain. It seems that most accounts of "climbing" Kilimanjaro involve horribly unprepared and naive hikers. I'm not sure if this is because a story without drama typically isn't a very good story or because stories are typically written by writers, not hikers. Also, with walking being the only physical skill required to reach the summit, I can't imagine <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0385494785/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0385494785&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Jon Krakauer</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0385494785" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> writing an article about "climbing" Kilimanjaro. True writer/adventurers like him would either be hopelessly bored or completely annoyed by the mass tourism aspect of the "climb".<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1780993390/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1780993390&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=1780993390&Format=_SL110_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=globgoeb-20" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=1780993390" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /><b><i>Zombies On Kilimanjaro</i></b> is Canadian <a href="http://www.zombiesonkilimanjaro.com/" target="_blank">Tim Ward</a>'s account of "climbing" Kilimanjaro with his son via the Lemosho Route. As an established travel writer, Ward at least has the credentials of having done some adventure travel in the past, including hiking in the Rockies, Alps, and Himalayas. Although the discussions with his son about meme theory seem somewhat artificial and distracting from the "climb" itself (<i>Full disclosure: I don't like the word "meme" or reading about how memes make the world go 'round</i>), <b><i>Zombies</i></b> is a touching tale of father-son bonding and an evocative depiction of the physical and mental strain involved in "climbing" Kilimanjaro. There's also some great snippets of information about climate change and the receding glaciers on the mountain.<br />
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My Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars<br />
Buy <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1780993390/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1780993390&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Zombies on Kilimanjaro: A Father/Son Journey Above the Clouds</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=1780993390" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> at Amazon.com<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060509058/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0060509058&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=0060509058&Format=_SL110_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=globgoeb-20" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0060509058" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />Michael Crichton may be more well known for science fiction novels like <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0345538986/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0345538986&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Jurassic Park: A Novel</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0345538986" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0345468260/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0345468260&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Timeline</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0345468260" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0061782556/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0061782556&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Congo</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0061782556" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />, and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/006170315X/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=006170315X&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">The Andromeda Strain</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=006170315X" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />. However, in 1988, he published a collection of autobiographical essays and travelogues appropriately called <i><b>Travels</b></i>. Eventually, I plan on reading the whole lot, but for now I've only read his account of climbing Kilimanjaro in 1975, appropriately titled <i>Kilimanjaro</i>. Crichton's story is a pretty straightforward portrayal of the "climb", complete with the standard unpreparedness, naivety, pre-climb jitters, mid-climb question of "Why am I doing this?", thoughts of turning around, eventual joy of reaching the summit, and complete exhaustion upong finally making it back down. He doesn't mention it specifically, but Crichton seems to have taken the Marangu Route, also know as the Coca-Cola Route due to the huts where Coke can be bought along the way. <i>Kilimanjaro</i> is a heart-warming, motivational, and interesting read, but doesn't really offer anything exciting beyond a typical traveler's tale.<br />
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Interesting Note #1: Crichton mentions using lanterns to provide the light on the pre-sunrise climb to the summit. I realize that there weren't fancy LED headlamps available in 1975, but to the best of my knowledge, regular flashlights already existed. The lanterns made the story feel very dated.<br />
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Interesting Note #2: Although the actual summit of Kilimanjaro is Uhuru Peak, Crichton stopped at Gillman's Point at 18,700ft (5700m). Oddly enough, he claims that most hikers stop at this point and consider themselves as having summitted Kilimanjaro, as does he. Maybe things were different in 1975.<br />
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My Rating: 3 out of 5 stars <br />
Buy <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060509058/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0060509058&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Travels</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0060509058" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> at Amazon.com<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400095565/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1400095565&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=1400095565&Format=_SL110_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=globgoeb-20" /></a><i>Up The Mountain Coming Down Slowly</i> is part of <i><b>How We Are Hungry</b></i>, a collection of short stories by Dave Eggers. Although it is classified as fiction, <i>Up The Mountain</i> is supposedly based on Eggers' own experience "climbing" Kilimanjaro.<br />
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After her sister Gwen backs out of the Kilimanjaro trip due to getting pregnant, Rita is left contemplating why she's doing this hike and if she's really ready for it. Rita is accompanied by fellow travelers that signed up for the same package tour to Kili's Machame Route. The trek is hampered by bad weather from the beginning and some porters back out before the first day of walking even begins. <br />
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Besides Rita's own lack of preparation, it seems that the tour company is also horribly unprepared for the "climb". The mess tent, which doubles as the porters' sleeping quarters, has a hole in it and constantly leaks water when it rains. Also, at one point in the "climb", one of the other group members gives his sunglasses to a porter. This is followed by a lecture by the American trip leader about how they must not give anything directly to the porters. It should first be given to the lead guide, who will then distribute it to the staff member of his choice because there is a pecking order that needs to be followed. It makes me wonder what tour company Eggers used when he "climbed" Kilimanjaro.<br />
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Eggers is a literary genius, although sometimes he can be a bit too gimmicky. For instance, the hardcover version of <b><i>How We Are Hungry</i></b> includes a story called <i>There Are Some Things He Should Keep To Himself</i>, which consists solely of five blank pages. Thankfully, Up The Mountain refrains from all his gimmicktry. It is a superbly written and haunting portrayal of a Kilimanjaro "climb". The story also brings up some good points about the ethical responsibility of tour companies taking care of not only their paying clients, but also taking care of the porters they use for hauling luggage and supplies up the mountain. This is actually the third time I've read <i>Up The Mountain</i>, so I'd say that it's pretty obvious that I love the story even though it's much darker than most Kilimanjaro stories.<br />
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My Rating: 5 out of 5 stars<br />
Buy <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400095565/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1400095565&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">How We Are Hungry</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=1400095565" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> at Amazon.com<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0684804441/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0684804441&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=0684804441&Format=_SL110_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=globgoeb-20" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0684804441" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />Although Ernest Hemingway's <b><i>The Snows of Kilimanjaro</i></b> barely mentions Kilimanjaro itself, the title is probably one of the more well-know "Kilimanjaro" pieces. It depicts a man's conversation with his lover, as he lays dying of a gangrene-infested leg from a simple scratch by a thorn bush somewhere in the African bush. Hemingway's story is definitely from a more macho era of African travel before killing big game became taboo. As could be expected from Hemingway, the story is beautifully written and well worth reading. My only disappointment is that the story wasn't actually about climbing Kilimanjaro, but rather uses Kilimanjaro more for symbolic purposes (in Masai, the western summit of Kilimanjaro is called Ngaje Ngai, which means "House of God").
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My Rating: 4 out of 5 stars<br />
Buy <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0684804441/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0684804441&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0684804441" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> at Amazon.com<br />
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Tom Bissell, author of <b><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0375422641/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0375422641&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">God Lives in St. Petersburg</a></i></b>, <i><b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/037572754X/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=037572754X&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Chasing the Sea: Lost Among the Ghosts of Empire in Central Asia</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=037572754X" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /></b></i>, and<b><i> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0307474313/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0307474313&linkCode=as2&tag=globgoeb-20" target="_blank">Extra Lives: Why Video Games Matter</a></i></b><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=globgoeb-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0307474313" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />,<b><i> </i></b>wrote <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/28/sports/playmagazine/28kilimanjaro.html" target="_blank">Up The Mountain Slowly, Very Slowly</a>, a 2007 article in New York times about his experience "climbing" Kilimanjaro. Bissell article is wonderfully written and contains plenty of entertaining and humorous snippets. Like many other writers before him, he proves to be horribly naive and unprepared for what a "climb" of Kilimanjaro actually requires. However, I strongly suggest reading his article for some good chuckles and tips on Kilimanjaro.<br />
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My Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://himalayanexpeditions.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/header7.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://himalayanexpeditions.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/header7.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.himalayanexpeditions.com/" target="_blank">Canadian Himalayan Expeditions</a></i></td></tr>
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About 40,000 people attempt to reach the summit of Kilimanjaro every year. Only 40-50% of them successfully make it to the top. I will become part of those statistics when I attempt to reach Uhuru Peak later this month via the Machame Route (also known as the Whiskey Route).<br />
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Have you attempted to "climb" Kilimanjaro, or read any good books, stories, or articles about it? Tell me about it in the comments section below. Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Jakarta, Indonesia-6.211544 106.84517200000005-6.716652 106.19972500000004 -5.706436 107.49061900000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-87970869536814064412013-02-09T02:43:00.000-06:002013-02-15T10:13:50.280-06:00Travel Tip: How to get a Burmese visa in BangkokBack in October, I traveled to Burma (also known as Myanmar). I am often asked about the process required for getting a visa to this beautiful and rapidly changing Southeast Asian nation. Although I plan on writing more posts about Burma, I'd like to share with you my experience getting my Burmese visa in Bangkok (often considered the easiest place to get the Burmese visa and a common gateway to Burma).<br />
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The Embassy of the Republic of the Union of Myanmar in Bangkok is located at 132, Sathorn Nua Rd in Silom. It’s a relatively short walk from the Surasak BTS Skytrain station. Use Exit 3 from the Surasak station and walk down to street level. Turn right at the bottom of the stairs so that you are walking along the sidewalk underneath the Skytrain station and past the Skytrain’s escalator entrance. Continue walking along Sathorn Road past Bangkok Christian School. The Myanmar Embassy is at the corner of Sathorn Road and Thanon Pan (see map).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/8065675496/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="How to get a Myanmar (Burma) visa in Bangkok by ryan_roxx, on Flickr"><img alt="How to get a Myanmar (Burma) visa in Bangkok" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8031/8065675496_672e50b96e_c.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/collections/72157600531894965/" target="_blank">Ryan Goebel</a></td></tr>
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The following items are required to obtain a visa:<br />
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1. Original Passport<br />
2. Photocopy of Passport<br />
3. Two 4x6cm passport photos with white background<br />
4. Visa Application (available inside the Embassy, or at the copy shop down the street – see below)<br />
5. Visa Fee, as follows:<br />
a. 810 Thai Baht – Two business days<br />
b. 1035 Thai Baht – Next Day<br />
c. 1260 Thai Baht – Same Day<br />
6. Proof of plane ticket to Myanmar (only if requesting Express Service)<br />
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I recommend getting your visa application beforehand at the copy shop down a little alley off Thanon Pan (marked by the yellow star on the map above; look for the yellow signs shown in the middle two photos above). They can also make photocopies of your passport, take passport-sized photos, and even have glue sticks available to attach you photo to the application. There are various other passport photo and copy shops along Thanon Pan, but I can’t verify whether or not they have the visa applications available.<br />
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I got to the copy shop around 7:50am, and there was only one other person there. By the time I filled out my application and got my photocopies, there were six others there.<br />
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By a few minutes after 8am, I was in line outside the door to the embassy. It was raining outside and I was about tenth in line. <br />
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Around 8:30am, they opened the front door and let us stand in line inside the building.<br />
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Keep in mind that you must get in line at Counter 4 regardless of the type of visa (standard/express tourist, business, or thai passport holder) for which you are applying.<br />
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At 9am, they will open the window at Counter 4. The embassy representative here will check your application, verify your flight information (if you request express service), and give you a number.<br />
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Sit down and wait for your number to be called. When it is called, go to the appropriate counter, hand over your number, application, passport, and visa fee. The embassy representative will then give you a collection receipt and tell you when you can pick your passport up (usually between 15:30 and 16:30).<br />
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It is highly recommended that you arrive to the embassy early. By the time I left at 9:25am, there were at least 50 people in the line.<br />
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For more information, I also found this link to be useful: <a href="http://travelhappy.info/thailand/myanmar-visa-in-bangkok-how-to-get-it/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Travel Happy</a><br />
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<i>Keep in mind, that information like visa requirements is subject to change at any time. My experience was from October 2012. </i></div>
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<i>Please share any additional up-to-date information you have about obtaining Burmese visas in the comments section of this page.</i></div>
Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com1Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2081780774422951026.post-29750724553665510652013-02-09T01:32:00.000-06:002013-02-09T01:58:12.113-06:00Selamat Datang!In Bahasa Indonesia, "selamat datang" means "welcome". This blog entry is a short introduction to me and my new blog "Global Goebel Travels".<br />
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<b>Global</b></h3>
The entire world.... I'm from a small town in southern Illinois and currently work in Indonesia.<br />
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<h3>
<b>Goebel</b></h3>
My last name..... My family's ancestors were German farmers that immigrated to the American Midwest in the mid-1800's.<br />
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<b>Travels</b></h3>
It's what I do.... In 2001, I used frequent flyer miles to get to Thailand on my first trip outside of North America. I've been in love with travel since about my second day on that trip and have been to 50 countries (<i>and counting</i>) since. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/1812790170/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The Sisophan fruit girls and me by ryan_roxx, on Flickr"><img alt="The Sisophan fruit girls and me" height="282" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2095/1812790170_3555d594d3_o.jpg" title="" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;">Here's a photo of me from that first international trip with </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;">some girls selling fruit in Sisophan, Cambodia.</span></i></div>
© <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ryan_roxx/collections/72157600531894965/" target="_blank">Ryan Goebel</a></td></tr>
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Global Goebelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15718573367801409847noreply@blogger.com0Balikpapan, Indonesia-1.2653859 116.83119999999997-26.787420400000002 75.522605999999968 24.2566486 158.13979399999997