After much deliberation I have decided to end the blog formerly known as Pierre In, and start a new blog that chronicles the highlights of my travels through Africa and Europe. For those of you wondering how this change will impact my writing, we will just have to wait and see.
I arrived in Cape Town, South Africa on the 18th of January and spent most of the day just lounging around our hostel in an attempt to familiarize myself with the place. Cape Town looks a lot like most cities built near the ocean, and I would say that its architecture and set up is very closely related to that of San Francisco. It took only the first night for me to realize that I should be more careful when reading the reviews people write about accommodations in Cape Town. If I had paid more attention to these reviews I would have noticed that the one I chose had a tendency to be noisy on the weekends. Seeing as we arrived on a Friday, the next two nights were spent tossing restlessly as African adolescents partied below us until 5 in the morning. Needless to say, I am still trying to catch up on my sleep.
Finally on Sunday morning we met up with the overland tour group and guide we would be traveling with for the next three weeks. Our group is a United Nations-esque mix of people. Those who have come as far as Korea and those who have come from the not as far of Switzerland. I have been practicing my Swiss-German but it is not a functionally sound as my Korean. I look forward to talking to all of you in a foreign tongue when I return home.
We spent the first two days of the tour working our way north through South Africa. On the third day we had to pass through the Namibian border. After the ritual circumcision, I was cleared through customs; however, I felt like Namibia had taken a little away from me. I should mention at this point that our tour is a camping tour, and at night it is Sarah and my responsibility to set up our tent. The first few days were fine, and I believe that we may have even beaten an old German WWII record for fastest tent ever assembled. However, after a few days of pitching the tent, we made the executive decision to just sleep in our sleeping bags on the ground. Not only did this save us time, but it allowed us to be up close and personal with some of the African wildlife, especially the jackals.
I have a plethora of exciting adventures I want to relate, but am pondering the proper way to express my excitement of them. For instance, I was fortunate enough to hike through the dunes of the Namib Desert (that's right - open google map!!!) Our desert guide was a local Namibian man named Franz (don't ask me how his parents came up with that). I learned a lot about the formation of the dunes, and even had the chance to jump down the side of a dune cliff. I felt like surviorman sans camera crew and any outdoors experience (except for the three overnights I did with Brad and Laurie at summer camp).
Of course there have been other highlights, too many to mention without getting carpal tunnel in my fingers. Once we enter Europe it will be much easier for me to access the internet and give everyone reading this a detailed account of my life.
I will leave you with the story of a young Jewish bushman, who in order to become a man in the eyes of his tribe, had to go out into the desert and spear the much feared and highly sought after gifilte fish. After many days the boy had not found the fish, and he began to feel disheartened. How could he return to the tribe without the fish? He pondered a solution for many days and many nights, until waking one morning with a solution. In his haste to return to the village and tell his people how he had fought off the wild Caananite dog, the gifilte fish's biggest predator, he did not leave time for his bread to leaven. When the bushman returned his people ignored his story but marveled at his creation of the newest African food ... matzah.
Hope everyone is well. Much love, I will write more soon.
