Kristmas in Kuala

We're not done with Thailand's blogs, so here's a glimpse of our Christmas in Malaysia. (Eva was homesick!)

Merry Yule

Here, a Thai Christmas Tree. Hey. It's the thought that counts!

Our love and best wishes to all.

D&E

Out of Africa

JOHANNESBURG _ It seemed like the road would go on forever. It didn't. It just went for 7350 kilometers, (4567 miles) through five countries – South Africa, Namibia, Botswana, Zambia and Zimbabwe - in over 24 days. More. A month if you count the time Eva and Doug spent in Cape Town and Joburg before and after the trek.

Sometimes that road did seem to go forever. Across the white sand deserts of Namibia, with Milton in the cab and the rest of us in the truck as he drove and we bounced and he drove and we bounced toward a horizon that we never quite seemed to reach. More or less the same in Botswana, until the road started to climb and twist and turn in the hills leading to lush and troubled Zimbabwe.

The days also seemed to last forever, packing our gear and heavy tents before dawn (even worse Before Coffee) so we would could make an impossibly long drive that day. But Milton seemed to know just when to stop (OK. Once, we heard a passenger shout ''I need to go. NOW'')

And the days would be broken up by one astonishing adventure, one amazing sight, and one exotic animal after another.

This would be capped by The Marvelous Milton. our large and unstopably jovial Zimbabwean guide, driver, cook, and good buddy. He'd whip up a gourmet lunch under the shade of a tree at the side of a desolate and windblown road in about two minutes and then outdo himself on the open fire of a campsite while making yet another great dinner. (Doug, who loves to BBQ, only got to help three times: peeling some butternuts, BBQing chicken and beef, and roasting bananas)

The trek was just a sampling of southern Africa. Every stop was too short, because each ''next attraction'' was just too far down the road toward that ever distant horizon. It was like going to a wine tasting _ try a little bit of everything and go back for the best ones later.

So far this blog feels like it has missed out on more than we have reported. Too much. Too fast and waaaay slow. (Glacial internet that is. When we could log on at all.)

Did we mention the pride of lions we saw lounging near the water hole? No? Didn't think so. How about flying the small plane over huge herd of elphants iover the Okavango Delta? No. Not that either? Did we say anything about the friendship that grew from the trials, tribulations and triumphs? The great dinner at Doug's long-time colleague Donna's house in Joburg? Thought so. Too much. Too fast. Too slow.

And if there was a lesson, it's one Doug's mother tried to drum into him and that was summed up in the sign on her kitchen wall. ''Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.'

Milton never threw away a scrap of food. What he couldn't keep them he would give away: To campsite workers, other guides, park workers, and if necessary passers by.

''Waste not, want not.'' It made us rich Westerners reflect on the waste of our own wasteful, wasteful lifestyle. Shame on us.

Near the end of the trek, we saw we could not eat the snacks and drink the soft drinks we had brought before the trek ended. So we made up a gift bag for Mr. Brown, who earns about 400 rand (70 US dollars a month) looking after a remote campsite we used in southern Zimbabwe. The bag contained crackers, cookies, candy, two bottles of Coke, and a brand new shirt that was too small for Doug. It also contained 2 dollars.

Mr. Brown was clearly delighted and moved. Delighted by the food, a treat for his family. Moved by the crisp new, checkered, button-down shirt. He took it out of the bag, held it up for inspection, and -smiling – declared ''I'm going to look like a president.''

It was the same the whole way. What we saw as being worthless, they saw as a treasure. Our unwanted food was ther feast.

So we'll be back. Next time with an extra bag of old socks, shirts, pants, and shoes that we might have thrown out at home. Do the same if you ever go.

Thank you Africa. Next stop Thailand.

D&E

D&E's - Name That Animal!

Falling in love with a whole country

BULAWAYO, Zimbabwe _ When looking at the itinerary for the trip, Doug was more than a little skeptical about Zimbabwe. It is failed state, thanks to Robert Mugabe. Having survived hot combat as a reporter in numerous war zones _ like Iraq and Afghanistan _ Doug thought it would be very annoying to be killed in a food riot while on vacation.

Zimbabwe is in disarray. Its economy has collapsed. They have given up on their own currency and use US dollars. Unemployment has hit more than 70 percent, and what was once the breadbasket of Southern Africa has become the basket case of Southern Africa. 100 dollars a month would be considered good pay.

All that is true and yet it is still one of the most wonderful places on Earth. It is beautiful. D&E felt more welcome and safer than anywhere else in Southern Africa. People were friendly, smart and well educated.

The first stop was the town of Victoria Falls. Tourist Trap! It was safe enough, but walking anywhere mean running the guantlet of trinket sellers. The falls themselves were spectacular.

It was in Vic Falls that Doug and Eva broke away from the pack on our free day. After realizing that the planned trip hugged the border of Botswana but did not go into Zambia, Doug insisted on crossing the Victoria Falls bridge (from 1903) and setting foot on his father's second homeland, Zambia.

Fellow travellors thought we were nuts. But it went without a hitch. Passport control in Zimbabwe and Zambia were effortless both ways, and we hired a cab to take us into the town of Livingstone, Zambia. Doug marked the occasion by sending Zambia post cards to his brother in the US and mother in Norway.

After another long day on the road, we ended up at the remote wilderness Ivory Camp at Hwange, where we upgraded from a tent to the cabin for 20 dollars. As the only couple on the trek, D&E got the cabin on stilts with a bathrub that … we couldn't believe it … overlooked a waterhole used by the animals.

Milton prepared another of his 'can't be beat' dinners, but Doug declined to hang around the campfire afterward, saying 'I've seen plenty of campfires but never a cabin like the one we have for one night. Bye bye.''

The next day we met Ian the guide. But that's a whole other story.

We will be back, and aren't kidding about wanting a vacation home here.

D&E

Walking with (running from?) rhinos

MATOBO, Zimbabwe _ Our guide, Ian, is a 13th generation southern African, after his British ancestors moved to South Africa in 1790. He grew up on a farm nearby and calls the national park here his own backyard. He also calls the rhinos his family, since he knows all of their names and has known many of them since birth. He clearly mourns the passing of each one, especially those killed by poachers for the animal's horn, which can be worth 500,000 dollars on the black market. Ian is one of the world's best guides. According to the British magazine Wanderlust, he is, in fact, fourth best in the world. It's hard to imagine how good the three others must be.

A tour with Ian differs from other wildlife tours. He prides himself on getting his trekkers closer to rhinos and other wildlife than any guide in the world. He does just that and is famous for it.

To tag along with Ian, you have to be ready to fling youself on the ground or climb the nearest tree or sprint if a rhino charges. ''You'd be amazed at the reserves of energy you can summon up,'' he said. For another, you get within what seems like petting distance of an animal as big and powerful as a tank.

We didn't have to run, but we did our share of creeping around. He got us within a few meters of a rhino family. The male was very aware that it was breeding season. The female, with her exasperated signs, let him know she was not in the mood.

''We don't have to worry about him,'' says Ian. ''If he runs anywhere, it will be away from her.'' It's not just the rhinos that make Ian a guide apart. He points our everything from dung beetles to elephants and plants that can be use use to heal or to kill.

Around the campfire later, they discover that Doug and Ian share a passion from ancient British cars. Ian has a collection of Land Rovers, including a first prototype from 1948.

D&E

Just like my daddy done

OKAVANGO DELTA, Botswana – For Doug, this is just too cool. Gliding past the hippos and through the weeds in a dugout Mekoro canoe.
His father used to tell stories of heading up rivers in these in the 1930s and '40s. Doug seems to recall him tell about how they had to shoot a baby hippo because it was playing with the boat. Capsizing here makes you dinner. The crocodiles, you see.

We glide through what seems like an ocean of lily pads and reeds. Finally, reach the wilderness camp, where Milton and the local guides have set up the tents for us for the first and last time. (By the way, the tents were a nice example of teamwork. Milton – the professional – asked Doug to time how long he used to set up at tent. 9 minutes. By working together, the other five tourists could set up one tent in less than 2.5 minutes.) They even built us a stylish ''rest room'' (see picture above).

As evening falls. Milton points out that ''This is a dangerous place. And whatever is out there can come in here.''

Food for thought at 3 am when you kinda have to go to the bathroom a little bit but hear lions roaring, elephants trumpeting and hyenas laughing.

Way too early the next morning (BC – Before Coffee) we set off on foot (the evening before we had quickly closed in on some elephants, failing to immediately notice the hyena behind us.) This morning we realy did see notta (not a thing) and headed back to the camp to pack up and have breakfast.

Then we hit the offroad aboard 'The Monster' – a huge 4X4 Unimog truck designed for offroad.

D&E

Not for use in temperatures over 30C (85F)

BRANDBERG, NAMIBIA _ This place is fittingly named Brandberg – Fire Mountain.
It is about 42 degrees C (105F), it is midday and we head up the mountain to see the Bushman paintings, drawings on the rock walls done between 2,000 and 7,000 years ago. The most famous painting is 'The White Lady' although later research revealed that it was really ''The White Man.''

Later, locals would tell us that heading up Fire Mountain in the midday sun was A) Stupid. B) Insane. C) Insanely stupid. So, like mad dogs and Englishmen, we headed out in the midday sun.
Jurgen, our Tamara tribe guide, kept saying ''Too hot.' The trek is supposed to take about 90 minutes round trip. It takes nearly twice that because Jurgen keeps stopping to cool off his charges in the shadows up trees and to say ''Too hot.''

Everybody's hot. But Eva - ''I'm built for snow'' - is overheating. Doug offers to take the little backback she was carrying. She snaps and growls and he jumps back, narrowly avoiding having his arm turned into a stump.

About halfway up, Eva is dumping a bottle of drinking water on her head. Doug, from a safe distance, points out that if she keeps doing that we might all die of thirst.

We made it and it was worth it. The drawings are slowly fading away but the White Lady from Namibia is there. So is the White Hot Lady from Norway.

That evening, Doug notes that everyone was afraid of Eva. ''Oh don't be silly,'' she says, and then looks around to to see everyone nodding.

The group agrees to have Eva labled with the warning ''Not for use in temperatures over 30C (85F)''

D&E

That's a lot of seals!

When Milton said ''a lot of seals'' we didn't realize he meant ''A LOT of seals'' unil we got to Cape Cross, on our way north from Swakopmund to our next campground at Spitskop, Namibia.

We've never seen so many seals. And they were all talking at the same time. We were lucky, says Milton, that there was a stiff breeze to blow the worst of the stink away.

D&E

Beer is the Answer

African heat and beer go together like ... um ... houses and big mortages, or something like that. So Doug saw the chance to do some missionary work for BASTURDS (the Beer Appreciation Society for Totally UnRestricted Discussion) during the trip.

The BASTURDS motto is clear and indisuptable: ''Beer is the Answer.''

So Doug pointed this out repeatedly to his fellow trekkers, until they saw the light.

By the end of the trek, at the end of each day, they were all saying 'Let's have an answer or two..''

And our official trek T-shirts? You can see for yourself.

D&E

Hot and cold ... or make that cool

It seems like the Namibian desert never ends until ... bam ... it does precisely that just shy of the Atlantic Ocean. The change from the sweltering heat of the sands to the lush green and cool of Swakopmund (a coastal town of German origin) was staggering. After four nights in our tents, we spent two at an inn. With beds. Nice change.

Ruben from Germany complains about the cold. OK it's cool (like 22C (70F)) compared to the heat of the desert, but let's not forget the weather back home in the far north. Freezing. Sub-freezing. Sub DEEP freezing.

No one is interested in the activities on offer (for pay) like skydiving, or quad biking, a week into our trek. We all just want a day off, hang out, shop and have beers.

Doug especially likes the quotes from the menu at the Village Cafe, like ''I do not have a problem with caffeine. I have a problem without caffeine.''

Eva has an upset stomach and tries the German cure:. (See video)
D&E

Oh, and let us introduce us

By the way, this who we are. (from left to right)

Man Truck, age 5 1/2, South Africa

Morris, 65, Australia

Ruben, 27, Germany,

Eva, 45, Norway

Doug, 55, Norway/USA

Pia, 58, Denmark.

Milton, 20-something, Zimbabwe

The doctor is in

Eva's medical training amounts to a first aid course. Just the same, she was quickly designated ''Trek Doctor''

It started with Morris needing the stitches removed from his knee. He'd fallen over a wall in the dark in an earlier stage of his Africa trip, and it was time to remove them. Doug said he had ''a really big knife'' and that he would be happy to remove the stitches as long as Ruben could spare some of his whiskey (For Doug, not for Morris).

Prudently, Morris selected Eva for the procedure, and Dr. Eva removed the stitches with no hitches.

From there, it was a short way to massages and physiotherapy for Pia's hurt back, ministering to Milton's cold, and dispensing malaria medication to Doug.

Ruben, a young whippersnapper, has proved too healthy to need treatment, although we can always hope.

D&E

Living it up a Desert Camp

Oh, man. This is the life. What a campsite!

In the middle of nowhere, in southern Namibia, is a place called Drifters Desert Camp. It is on an about 120,000 hectare (300,000 acre) private wildlife resevere. The camp is just about all there is there, apart from Pete, the Pervuvian-English guide, his Nambian-German wife Francesca and their remarkably peppy 13-year-old dog Francine.

Even though you sleep in your own tent, this hardly seems like roughing it (OK. The sparkling white at the pool could have been a little more chilled.) The tents are under nice shelters, and the bathrooms use local materials with such a flare that they are unforgetable.

What is also unforgetable are Pete's outbursts of laughter _ he sounds a bit like a mad scientist and has the rest of us of laughing with him. And who could forget watching a sunset over the desert, or riding in the back of an open Toyota Land Cruiser at night to spot wildlife. (Doug kept remembering that the wildlife included puff aders and Cape Cobras and scorpions).

Or musical mountain? Who could forget a mountain with rocks so hard that they ring when you toss pebbles at them.

But ..... ahh ... back to the pool.

D&E

The road that never ends

We ''survive'' Zimbabwe (Doug is about set to buy a house there) with a side trip to Zambia. Woke up this morning in our tents at a remote campsite where getting trampled by the resident elephants was our main concern. Now in Joburg, in city shock. No net access for many days, so we will do a massive update when our toughts and pictures are organized.

D&E

We're in Botswana now, after crossing the Namibian desert. Here it is much greener and much more like the Africa we imagined. Heading off in dug out canoes for an overnight trip on the delta. There is little or no Internet access or mobile coverage. We have a few minutes at a net cafe now because the truck broke down and we're waiting for the replacement.

More when we reach 'civilization.'

D&E

Next episode: desert camp. Stay tuned...

Pretty Scrawny Penguin

(This from a Net Cafe with an extremely slow connection.) The Bewildered Tourists said farewell to Cape Town with an unsuccessful attempt to visit Robin Island and Table Mountain, (closed due to wind and clouds) and drowned their sorrows by tasting wine at one of the South African vineyards in the district (tough assignment), visiting the Cape of Good Hope, where Doug had Danish Pia in stitches when he drove of an aggressive and soon-to-be confused Baboon with his imitation of an enraged Norwegian-American gorilla. (Heck. He just made myself look big and roared. It works.)

It was cool to walk along the shore of Southwestern Africa's southernmost point, and then to see the world''s scrawniest penguins ... on sorry ...African Penguins. These must be the black sheep of the penguin world, with their small stature, motley feathers and plain colors. That's so at least compared to their aristocratic Antarctic king in sleek tuxedos. Fun though to watch the African birds waddle and clumsily slide along the rocks.

Our trek started when Milton, our guide from Zimbabwe, herding us out to the truck with our backpacks. (Doug had a sad farewell with Lizzie the Dog, a resident of the Cape Town Inn. Of course, Doug always has a sad farewell with any nice dog anywhere.) The Truck _ officially the Safari Vehicle _ is a Man heavy truck with a kitchen and storage area on the cargo bed, with an Aquarium designed to house human tourists grafted on top of that. We're not quite sure whether the wildlife is on display, or whether we are being driven around to show them what European tourists look like. Who cares?

The Truck is designed for 16 passengers, but only five of us, Eva, Doug, Pia of Denmark, Morris of Australia and Rubin of Germany, so we can hardly complain of overcrowding. We headed north, stopping only for essential supplies (read that 'beer' in Doug case. Eva also bought a little wine.) Off. Off. Off. Into the wilds.

Yippee. D&E

Link to the overland tour:

http://www.drifters.com/index.asp?pgid=65

Sand...sand and more sand...

Walking dune 45 in the Namibian desert at 7.30 AM after 3.5 hours driving in The Truck. Believe it or not, it was also BC (Before Coffee).

D&E

Sleep like a lion

The idea of sleeping like a baby never seemed appealling. Waking up several times a night wet and crying? No thanks. ''Sleeping like a log" maybe or ''Sleeping like a rock."

In Milton's case. Yawn. Stretch. ''I slept like a lion.''
Huh? Restless? Prowling through the night? Nope.
''A lion has nothing to worry about. He has nothing to fear. He is the king of everything.''
May you all sleep like lions tonight.

D&E

Wind, waves and the newly re-named Guide Killer Rapids

SOUTH AFRICA/NAMIBIA The farther we got from cosmopolitan Cape Town, the more impressed we were with the standard of the infrastructure in South Africa. Good roads. Real towns. Pretty nice, apart from the shabby ''informal settlements'' (slums in plain English).

Milton is the Renaissance Man of the guiding world. He drives the truck, cooks our meals, helps us set up tents, points out the sights, makes us laugh and -- from now on -- lives in fear of missing a road sign. Which he did on our fist day because the winds in the northern part of South Africa blew it away. Anyway, we got some extra sightseeing in, including a stop at a South African farm where he braved the world's largest dog to go ask the farmer for directions. We -- er make that -- he found our camping spot on a little outcrop with a great view of land that was becoming more and more arid, and more and more like a lunar landscape.

Milton showed us how to set up a tent, and sent us off to set up our our own accommodations, while he lit the campfire and made a chicken dinner that couldn't be beat. It was a great start to our trek. We all went to bed and slept soundly. For about three hours, that is.

Out of nowhere, the Mother of All Winds (maybe it just felt like that) rammed our tents like a runaway train. Pia, 58, and Morris, 65, gave up when their tents blew down and sought refuge on the floor of the truck. Doug and Eva spent the night acting as human ballast to keep their tent from blowing away. Rubin, the 27 year old German, discovered that his tent had blown down around him, and quoted himself later as saying ''Ja. That's OK'' and going back to sleep.

In the morning, it was still blowing so hard that it took all six of us to hold down and fold each tent. (Pia's was recovered from the ravine). It was blowing so hard that it nearly tore the door off the truck. Eva was also stunned by a discovery: Doug was involved in everything from rescuing tents to repairing truck doors at 7 am BC (before coffee.) She had never seen anything like it, and would not have believed it possible.

After saying something like ''I'm an artist. I can't work under conditions like this", Milton loaded us into the truck, and took us to Springbok for breakfast at a Wimpy and repairs to the truck door that wouldn't open.

Then things started to get better. After passing through immigration control for Namibia (is there some kind of drab, rundown standard set for all border posts everywhere in the developing world?) A few kilometers (miles) away, we started our overnight canoe trek. Each of us was issued a bucket with a lid, for sleeping bags and such.We loaded the canoes and set up into the first rapids.

Milton and Pia shared a canoe. Pia had hurt her back, had a cold, and had an expensive camera around her neck. Naturally, their canoe capsized 30 seconds into the trek, so they and the boat were rescued by young men practicing extreme swimming in rapids, which Rubin re-named ''Guide Killer Rapids'' in honor of Milton.

Anyway, we did make it down the river, cooked out (okay it was Milton and the river guide Michael who cooked out) and ... all of us exhausting from the Night of Wind, we call fell asleep in the sand under the stars at about 9 pm. Doug could not believe his luck when Mrs. M brought him coffee in bed, or would that be coffee in sleeping bag. Eva and Pia went for a morning swim in the warm river and then we headed downstream again, sometimes swimming next to the canoes in the warm water.

The next morning, we were back in The Truck, headed north to the Desert Camp, for a chapter to be told as soon as we find time an Internet again.

D&E

Wind and water

Southern Namiba: So here's the 30-second update (Just bought a few minutes at a wi-fi hot spot with a slow connection.) Our tents blew down in a wild wind storm in northern South Africa. Some tents blew down the ravine and had to be retrived. It took all six of us to fold each tent, since they were trying hard to become sails.

Now in southern Namibia, looking at the Orange River (Africa's second longest) , where we are about to BBQ after two days of canoeing down the river, and sleeping out under the stars. And what stars, with no lights around for miles.

More when we reach 'Civilization.'

D&E

Africa at last

For Doug, landing in Southern Africa was a life-long dream. Not just because D&E have actually met Nelson Mandela, F.W. de Klerk, and Bishop Desmond Tutu (we were at Mandela and de Klerk's 1993 Nobel Peace Prize banquet), but because Douglas grew up with tales of Southern Africa, and was even named for his father's best friend there, Bill Douglas.

So on the 24-day overland trek that is soon to start, D&E will pass through South Africa, Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, Zimbabwe and back to South Africa, they will be in Doug's late father Svante's stomping grounds 60-70 years ago. Svante was a Norwegian farm boy who went on to take and advanced science degree, and, finding little to do in Norway during the depression of the 1930s, headed off for southern Africa to work for the mining industry and stayed for a decade or so. He lived in Kitwe and Ndola in Zambia, and was often at the corporate offices of Anglo-American Copper in Johannesburg towards the end of his time in Africa. (thanks brother Eric) and Doug remembers him talking about him heading upriver in dug out canoes in search of minerals. For at least one trek, D&E will be in just that kind of canoe. Svante moved to the United States in 1944, but appeared to long for Southern Africa for years.

Oh and Oslo, plus other Norwegian cities. Hop on a flight to Cape Town. No litter. No Graffiti. Gosh. Is that possible?

Now, as far as Cape Town. Wow too. Feeling the need to rest up a bit for the the long trek, we splurged and rented a furnished rooftop apartment at the Drifters Inn on the Waterfront. In their minds, D&E were going to be sipping sparkling wine while sunning themselves on their private balcony. In reality, wind and rain drove them inside the first days.

Just the same, there is plenty to do at this cosmopolitan, and international city, such as shopping at the Waterfront, or ... lord help us ... eating. What an experience. We need to get out of here and into the bush before we are too heavy to stand and walk under our own power.

There was just one thing that was disturbing: Apartheid may be over, but is still much economic segregation. Here at Sea Point, or other posh areas as a Waterfront, virtually everyone is white except for those serving them. And not far from the shiny Porsches here, are townships of ramshackle shakes and abject poverty, New construction ahead of football's 2010 World Cup looks like it might improve things from some.

But we're just passing through. Much of the first two days went to getting (cheap) locally made safari clothing and gear. We tried to get out the Robben Island, where Mandela was a prisoner for 28 years, but the boats were stopped by wind and waves, organizers said.

''Strange" _ we thought _ as we sailed toward the island on a catamaran sailboat, noting how calm the waters were. We got close, but not ashore. Eva _ back in here element on a sailboat _ did what came naturally, and seized the helm from the captain, steering us confidently back toward port at the end of the 90 minute tour. (She managed not to shout commands at the professional crew, which is probably a good thing.)

A day later, we hiked the trails of the Cape of Good Hope and not far away saw African Penguins. once called Jackass Penguins. I have friends like that.

Now _ finally _ we had breakfast in the sunshine on our veranda, a promising start to the next 24 days.

We have no idea how 'Net access will be over the next 24 days in the Africa wilderness. Will update when we can.

D&E

Early prayers and late meals in Istanbul

ISTANBUL, Turkey _ It's about 4:30 on Saturday morning and a song sounds in the darkness from the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, once called Constantinople. I remember this wake-up call from other stops in the Muslim world.. This call to prayer is especially beautiful _ the singer must be a star among the city of 15 million's 2,000 Mosques. It's a bit early from my taste, so I roll over, and we both try to get back to sleep.

This was a bonus. A short stop on our way to Cape Town, South Africa at the start of our 95-day walkabout. It's been a pleasant surprise. Turkish Airlines from Oslo was a smooth flight with friendly if sometimes hard to understand crew. It was snowing when we took off from the Oslo airport, but here there is sunshine after _ locals say _ days of heavy rain. We're lucky dogs, and we know it. So there.

Getting through baggage claim, customs, and immigration was painless, thanks largely to our jovial Norwegian seatmate Baard, an Istanbul regular who coaxed fine wine from first class out of the skeptical flight attendants and tipped us about visas: Get in line to buy one before you get in line for passport control. Worked like a charm.

A cab took us to the historic part of town, where we had a light meal on the roof of our hotel Lady Diana ( Lady Diana _ to the tune of the Beatles Lady Madonna _ got stuck in my head). From the roof,we could look down at the Blue Mosque, completed in 1619, and Hagia Sofia, originally built Christian Church in 537 A.D. before being turned into a mosque in 1453. Both are stunning under there floodlights.

In the morning, we set off to the old town, starting with the Blue Mosque. Guidebook sellers swarm us near the Hippodrome, but I ward them off by flashing my Norwegian-language guidebook. We try to get into the mosque. But it's closed for the next hour or so. ''Pray Time'' says they security guard who is in charge of keeping the tourists out and letting the Muslim worshipers in. We head out to explore some more, and discover lunch of Turkish Meze - like Tapas - at an outdoor restaurant. The streets are so narrow that we wonder how the cars get through.

Food, food, food, and more food as well as clean streets and friendly people seem part of daily life in Istanbul. In the evening, we wander the back streets of the historical district of Sultanahmet looking for a restaurant. We discover one there too, with excellent roasted lamb and wine. (Urp. Excuse me.)

The next morning, we try again to get into the Blue Mosque. ''Pray Time'' again. So we head over to the Basilica Cistern http://www.yerebatansarnici.com/ a water reservoir built under the city in the 6th Century. It it held up by 336 marble columns that are 9 meters high, It is 143 meters (470 feet) long and 65 metres (210 feet). wide. It's cool compared to the hot street above, and the floors are damp. There are hundreds of fish in the water, and thousands of coins tossed by visitors making a wish. On the other side, an artists installation of artificial arms and legs dances with itself.

You may recognized the Cistern, Wikipedia says it was used as a scene in the 1963 James Bond film From Russia with Love and the 2009 film The International.

Emerging from the Underworld, we visit the Blue Mosque, and Hagia Sofia, both stunning works of ancient architecture and craftsmanship.

For dinner, we head off to the Fish District for a dinner that became a tourist attraction in itself. We ordered salt baked Sea Bass without knowing what to expect. After anout 40 minutes, the waiter came out with a mountain of salt on a tray, and set the whole thing on fire. There was a fish inside the smoldering mountain. The flames drew Japanese tourists as if they were moths. When the flames went out, the waiter used a hammer and chisel to liberate the delicious cod. After a while, Turkish diners started to do what I guess Turks do: Dancing it the street.

During the stop, Eva also did what Eva does: Shop. The poor couple at the jewelry store didn't know what hit them when she went into haggle mode over a pair of earings. As usual, I quickly suffered a shopping OD and wanted to do something important and useful, like drink beer.

On the third day, with a late night flight, we took a typical toursist boat ride along the Bosphorus Strait, where Europe meets Asia, had another dinner involved flaming food, and headed for the airport for the overnight flight to Cape Town.

Thanks Istanbul - D&E

Istanbul slide show:

The story so far

Eva and Doug have been together for the past 25 years, married most of the time. We had a charming, tiny wooden house from 1895 that overlooked the city Oslo, Norway's capital, and lived there for 20 years. We had good jobs, Doug as a foreign correspondent, Eva working with branding for one of Norway's largest companies. We were comfortable. Nice house, nice cars, a sailboat and a summer cottage. We had secure jobs in a time of finance and media crisis. In our middle age, everything was perfect except for one thing: Doug was tired of traveling and writing as a reporter, everywhere from war zones in Iraq to Olympics in China, and Eva was looking for new challenges after 18 years with her company.

The answer? Shake it up and see how things land...

We did just that. Eva took a voluntary golden handshake, and Doug took a six month leave from his job. We sold the house and put our stuff (way too much of it) into storage. (Is Warehouse 3, Storeroom 210, Lier, Norway a legal permanent address?) We put the boat and our cars on ice and the mail forwarded to Eva's sister. Then we set off on a 95-day trek that started in Stavanger, Norway, passed through Istanbul, Turkey, and is now in Cape Town, South Africa, ahead of a 24-day overland trek through South Africa, Namibia, Zambia, Zimbabwe and then Johannesburg, before heading to Thailand, Malaysia, Australia, News Zealand, Hong Kong and then back to Norway.

Both of us have traveled extensively, but its been a long time since we went anywhere exciting together. Now we're off on .. what? ... walkabout? ...flyabout? Whatever. All these places are new to both of us.

It's also an experiment. The hypothesis: Take a journalist who has grown to hate airports, hotels and travel and is sick of writing due to too much work travel, and send him off with his wife to airport, hotels and to travel for fun, and then write about it for the sheer joy of sharing the experiences with our friends until he rediscovers how much fun it is travel and write. Take the executive on a similar trek, and she will be rearing to boss people (other than Doug) around again when she gets home.

Will it work? Who knows. What's for sure is that our lives won't be the same after the 95-days.

We'll let you know about that, and mostly what we've been up to, whenever we have the Net access.

Cheers
D&E