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