The Next Adventure – Over-landing from Iceland to South Africa

Earlier this year an amazing adventure presented itself to me – an email landed in my over flowing inbox. How easy it would have been for me to miss it. Within was an invitation to join a private expedition from 66 degrees North in Reykjavik, Iceland, to 33 degrees south in Cape Town, South Africa – the most northerly capital city to one of the most southerly. The journey will take six months or there about, and cross 20 countries, give or take – depending on visa or border issues.

The journey officially begins on 2^nd January in Iceland. Our transportation is a converted ex-army Bedford 4×4 truck who will be with us from start to finish. In Iceland we will visit Vik I Mydral, Hofn and Esturstadi. On the 6^th January we set sail for 19 hours to the Faroe Islands, stopping for 6 hours, and then a further 36 hours to reach Denmark. Unfortunately for my friends in the next countries we will be flying through Germany, France, and Spain (as it is the middle of winter) camping in Malaga for a few days to buy supplies and make a trip to see Gibraltar.

Then we set sail for Morocco and heading south through western Africa visiting Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, and Ghana where we will rest on the beaches. Once recuperated we will go east through Togo, Benin, to Nigeria where we only stay in walled compounds. Last time they stayed in some interesting places including camping in the gardens of 5 star hotels!

Moving on and heading further south exploring central Africa including Cameroon, Gabon, Congo, Dominican Republic of Congo, Angola, Namibia, and finally arriving in South Africa if all goes to plan.

Surprisingly I have managed to memorise all 15 African countries! I used to play a game (click here) to learn all the 54 countries, dreaming of visiting them all. If you would like a more detailed itinerary for these countries please visit vikingsacrossafrica.com/route or follow my blog for updates. We hope to get connected at least once every two weeks if not more.

I had never thought about joining a tour group before, as the majority of my travels have been solo. This time, however, I figured there’s safety going with experienced people, there’s the shared cost of living and the fact that it’s such a long trip, the people joining me will be open minded and easy going like me.

It took me a couple of months to mull it over and some forecasting to see if my office job would provide me with enough income. I could have saved myself the energy pondering whether to go, as this trip has my name all over it. Friends I talked to about it must have thought “why is she even questioning it? I know she’s going to go!” I’ve always wanted to see Africa – the people, the wildlife, the nature, the cuisine, the dancing, the colourful textiles and music.

I will be joining 13 other people plus three crew members’ age ranging 20’s to 40’s from many different nationalities and backgrounds. It’s a get out and push kind of tour and apparently we are all allowed to drive the truck, at least for a kilometre, when we get to Mauritania – as long as there are no camels about! There’s a built in kitchen, sound system, and plenty of tents to house us all. Our tour leader is a fellow Scot who has spent over 30 years in Africa working in humanitarian aid and expeditions like this one.

Here’s an example of what my luggage includes:

• Sleeping bag and artificial silk liner, travel pillow
• Pen knife (handed down to me from my Dad) which includes a mini saw (I’m a bit too excited about this feature!)
• Travel washing line which is two ropes wrapped around each other so it doesn’t need pegs, with hooks and suckers
• Travel laundry soap flakes in a tiny box where 2-3 flakes will do one wash (!)
• Clothes, walking boots, socks, flip flops
• Swimming costume, travel towel, sunscreen
• Eco-friendly soap so I can wash in rivers and waterfalls and try not to harm nature
• Mosquito net, repellent, scarf for covering up against the weather/mosquitoes/idiot men folk
• Nail clippers, tweezers, toothbrush and paste
• Salt rock deodorant, hairbrush, hairbands
• Sunglasses, camera, ipad loaded with music, books and recipes
• Water bottle with a uv water purifier (my friend Jeannie had one and they really help reduce the amount of plastic consumed buying disposable water bottles)
• Notebook and pens

And once I’ve put all this stuff in my backpack and seen how much it weighs, I will invariably chuck some of it out and aim to keep the pack under 15 kilos! I’ve travelled with fewer kilos before but seeing as we are on a truck the whole way and I don’t plan to be walking for miles with it, I can afford to take some luxuries.

My medical practise advised me to get yellow fever vaccine and a booster for Hepatitis A & Typhoid. I’ve already been immunised against Hepatitis B, Rabies, Meningitis, Tetanus, Polio, and Diphtheria and our trip organiser recommends Larium for Malaria protection, although my Doctor recommends Malerone.

My French is getting brushed up on Duolingo, an app which lets you practise important phrases such as “I am a dolphin” and “The shark is eating a turtle.” I can’t wait to talk a bit of Arabic and see how different Egyptian Bedouin Arabic is to other strains.

The trip starts on 2^nd January but like a lot of my fellow passengers we will be meeting in Iceland on New Year’s Eve. A time to see in the new year with the people I will be spending the next six months with. Apparently there is a firework display at the Bells and as I’m an hour behind the UK I might just have to celebrate twice!

Friends have already started giving me tips of things to see and I welcome any more. I’ve caught up on all of David Attenborough’s wildlife documentaries on the BBC (except for the fighting one on at the moment). The countdown is on with just over three weeks till departure. Excitement is an understatement!

From Spain to Egypt, a tale of two adventurous girls, living the dream

It was a crazy trip. First I lazily took in Madrid, the Rena Sofia Modern art gallery, Prado museum (the worlds biggest art gallery) and a few bustling streets and squares, while waiting for T, my gorgeous American friend to come and when she did we painted the town red! We literally never slept in the hostel we put our bags in as we found some Texan guys from our hostel to show us round town, drinking for our countries (this ones for Scotland, glug glug glug) and being disappointed at the volume of tapas served with our drinks as we thought this would do our dinner!
The chat was philosophical and the vodka served in pint glasses. We saw a few bars, a flamenco dancer in the square and luckily for us never found a club that would let us in, as while we were standing on a green, one of us looked at a watch and the sudden realisation that it was 4.30am hit us! Where had the time gone? The night had literally run away with us, last I’d checked it was 10pm! We hastily said goodbye to Michael and David as we ran through the streets of Madrid like headless chickens, asking people which direction was Calle Jesús y María next to Plaza Tirso de Molina. I have no idea how we made it but we managed to run all the way directly there, we flew into the hostel room, packed our bags and carted them outside again to magically get picked up by the airport transfer at 5am. We got to the airport and luckily straight through security and boarded the plane heading for Ibiza. I’m still not quite sure how we made it and i can’t believe they actually let us on the plane! I sit in my allocated seat even though the planes empty and T is sitting 5 rows down and fall straight asleep. I didn’t even fasten my seatbelt then I hear ‘Elizabeth, time to go.’ I’m also not quite sure how the taxi driver managed to find the hotel I booked as I only had the name and no address, the second one he brought us to recognised our booking and boy was I glad and in total need of a bed!
I’m very thankful for T’s patience with me as some might have lost their head at the lack of organisation in our first half of the trip. You see I was in charge of our plans in Spain and T was in charge of plans in Egypt. After we’d caught up on some sleep we headed out to find our dive center where we arranged to do a boat dive the following day. Ibiza is stunning, I knew there had to be a reason beyond clubbing which drew people to this wonderful place. After an amazing Indian dinner a friend of T’s had recommended at the Curry Club, we found some guys to hang out with and painted the town red again. Well not quite as vibrant a colour red as the night before because the following day we were on a boat! We saw ~30 dolphins on the way and got to do a spot of cave diving seeing some beautiful starfishes and a wrasse collecting sponge to feed to her babies.
It’s surprising how blue the Mediterranean Sea is whereas the Caribbean Sea feels more yellow. We got talking to one of the divemasters Manuel from Barcelona and ended up chatting for hours in the dive shop looking at his art work and poems and hearing his life story. He’d had an accident aged 28, 4 years ago and before the accident he was a regular guy hardly artistic in anyway. Then post accident something happened in him and he started painting and pouring his heart out into poems, and singing and playing the guitar. He also told us he’d started to be able to look at people and read their soul, a bit like palm reading except he didn’t need a hand. I asked him to read me and he told me not to take everything in and I must remember to sweep out my mind and let the dust go out the chimney which is good advice for a thinker who sometimes gets bogged down by it all. He took us in his little red car to a chilled out bar called Kumano’s where we met our friends San and Daniel from the night before and enjoyed a beautiful sunset, chatting and laughing until our new friend had to head in.
Manuel lives on a little boat and as with any divemasters lifestyle comes responsibility, for he had work the next morning. He gave us a copy of his bands CD and the photos from the days diving and we bid him farewell. We carried on the party in a more lively bar where I dreamed of the divemasters lifestyle, living on the sea and having a job you love. So much so that the owner of the bar we were in decided he liked me enough to give me a job! Always up for some banter I went round behind the bar and started serving. I think now luckily for me (unfortunately at the time) the first bottle of beer I picked up’s neck shattered as I removed the cap. Well there went my job offer which followed with being given the evils for the rest of the night by the old wrinkly and slightly seedy owner. The night finished at 6am content and accomplished.
What can I say about the next days antics other than you have to be crazy to drive in Ibiza! There’s like ten exits to one roundabout and if you don’t know how to put your foot down you’ve no chance. I have to apologise to T yet again for her saintly patience as my British road rage unleashed in Ibiza like a banshee. I’m usually known as quite a chilled person but the hangover coupled with the maniacs on the roads I don’t know what got into me! We managed to tour round the island in our hire car nonetheless and saw some amazing red soiled scenery and divine blue seas on the coast line.
The highlight was meeting Maximilian our short but strong tour guide of the caves on the north coast of Ibiza. The caves were stunning with waterfalls and a coloured light show as a finale. Maximilian was fun to chat to, a real character, waiting till we’d reached the top of the stairs before he ran up behind us. There’s no dilly dallying with this guy!
Out of all the people on the tour he decided to connect with us and I enjoyed learning from him regardless it was only for one afternoon. According to Maximilian people come into your life no matter the length of time and never truly leave you.
We said our farewells to Ibiza and left for Egypt, the second leg of our journey. T dog had done an amazing job of organising one day in Cairo. We arrived early morning to meet T’s friend, a fellow divemaster Zoe, who’d learnt on the same island as us, Utila in Honduras, and our Egyptian female tour guide, who was awesome! She asked us what we wanted to see and she managed to fit in everything you can possibly think of doing in Cairo into one day!
We saw the Pyramids, Sphinx and a tomb, the museum, a mosque, the famous market Khan el Khalili, a Nile boat cruise, we even ate falafel! It was incredibly beautiful at the pyramids. Like the film American Beauty a plastic bag danced it’s way up the pyramid. The wind creating the best, the music. We also got to meet some camels.
It’s surprising how much we got out of that day but I’m glad because our next stop was Dahab and once you’ve tasted the riches of this town you don’t need the bright lights, over populated, crazy city of Cairo. Although we did meet this interesting dude:
We stayed in Dolphin Camp in a little hut with three beds squeezed in with not a gap between. Views of the Red Sea and right next door to one of the main nightclubs Treebar. I was into reading palms at the time and having read some palms in Ibiza and for T and Zoe when Omda a Bedouin guy who worked at the camp asked if I could read his I said yes. The Bedouins of the Sinai peninsula are religious people so I got the impression Omda didn’t believe I could read his hand. I’m not a fortune teller though, I’ve learnt a scientific method of palm reading where I can tell you characteristics and perhaps differences with what’s on the inside compared to what you show to the world. Half way into the reading Omda’s sunglasses came down and he looked quite worried as he’d said it was fine for my two friends to stay and listen. Two minutes after he’d left the English manager Kathy came in and having heard Omda’s experience she was willing to trade some dolphin camp t-shirts in return for a reading for herself. I’m always a bit nervous with palm reading because some people don’t have a lot going on in their mind so there is sometimes not much to read but Kathy was off the chart interesting. In fact some of her line combinations aren’t even in the text book! The t-shirts were bright yellow with ‘Only nice people’ written on the back, all three of us got one.
We dived at Desert Divers and experienced some amazing coral reefs and thousands of tropical fish, all shore diving which means you don’t need the added expense of a boat and only need a pickup to drive you along the coast. Our divemaster was the first friend I made in Dahab, he showed us where to eat and which clubs and bars to go to. He knew we were all divemasters and suggested I could work at the dive center too as his colleague was leaving in a few days. As soon as I met the owner a Canadian lady we agreed I could work in the office, get to dive when it was quiet and when the high season came round I could do some dm’ing. It was with much happiness when I waved goodbye to my great friend T and Zoe as they continued their journey up to Israel and I started a new life in a magical paradise.
Living in accommodation next to a nightclub was fine for me. You either listen in your room or you go and join in. Can you guess which option I chose? I mostly played pool in Treebar, meeting locals and expats. It was an open air club so while you’re dancing on a colourful light up dance floor you can look up at the starry night. One night Fish a Bedouin ex-divemaster asked me to take over for me on the pool table. He was playing winner stays on doubles with a young Bedouin guy. He introduced us and we ended up playing all night, winning game after game, it was really cool. Saleh was my height with curly long black hair, he had a red t-shirt on, board shorts and flip flops. His eyes were beautiful and when he smiled lines framed his mouth. He couldn’t speak much English to start but the more we hung out the more he picked up. And soon enough we were going on dates. He’s on the left here at my 100th Dive Party. One night he told me to meet him on the main road next to Dolphin Camp. I waited there, turning down taxi after taxi until an old fashioned royal blue car pulled up. Inside was a freshly shaven Saleh wearing a white galabaya (floor length shirt) and red scarf wrapped round his head. I got in and we went off for an adventure, up into the mountains, nothing but desert and stars and a few bottles of beer. We sat and star gazed and talked about our lives. We might have shared a little kiss up there but that would be telling! I realised how abled the Bedouin are in the desert as we went to leave the rusty blue car got stuck in the sand. Saleh wasn’t fazed as he confidently rocked the car back and forth until it was unstuck and ready to go. Navigating the desert landscape at night is also a skilled ability as Saleh safely drove me down the mountain. Here’s a beautiful sunset from the roof of Oasis Fighting Kangaroo Camp, my home for the next 8 months of 2009.

Catch Up Tuesday

I’m a bit behind with this blogging malarkey. I’d had the plan of writing about my six month adventure through India, using my diary to help, but that trip finished months ago. I’m not the best at staying in touch so maybe there are a few people wondering what I’m getting up to out there. I spent roughly three months in the North of India including two weeks in Nepal where my biggest achievement was climbing 4,600m in the Langtang region just north of Kathmandu.

No guide or porter just two friends and a river to follow which turned out to be the best thing I’ve done since backpacking round the world in 2007. My savings were still relatively fluffy so I took a two week trip home for Christmas surprising everyone to boot. It was great fun knocking on doors and opening the door to unsuspecting friends and family. “What are you doing here?” Was the main response which sounds quite rude if you say it flatly, luckily most people said it in a big surprised way and only my niece and nephew weren’t surprised as they didn’t really know either way if I’d be there or not! My dad was asleep when I rocked up late one evening. My mum opened the door and tried to sound surprised but she secretly hoped I might be coming home and maybe our psychic connection and my lack of email in the past days gave it away. My dad however woke up and stared at me for a bit then asked “where have you been?” I’ve traveled quite a bit so understandably he needed reminding. “India” I said and sat down, “nice to see you” he said and I smiled happily at my decision to make the long trip home. I returned to India via Mumbai and after catching up with friends I’d made from the North and being in a TV commercial for rice (don’t ask) I headed to Goa.

I had planned to see the South of India but sometimes constantly moving on can be tiring and I’d found myself a sweet little bamboo hut on the beach so I stayed there for seven weeks. Well actually my favourite Polish and Slovakian friend found the hut and we roomied for a few weeks before they headed south. I learnt a lot (especially from my Polish roomy and my newest Dutch friend, and not to forget the South African and Indian sikh…), meditated, did yoga and was even out running on the beach.

It was pretty nice but then the visa was up so a friend asked me to travel with her and we agreed on Sri Lanka. Unfortunately for me said friend got stuck on a deserted island and showed up two weeks late. Seeing as I was only there for two weeks I made my way round Sri Lanka myself disappointed but unfazed.

It was beautiful but the food wasn’t up to Indian standards in my opinion. It was more fine dining, a friend observed, where you can see all the ingredients, whereas I like my curries thick, creamy and well spiced. Below is an example, Sri Lankans don’t just serve one curry, they serve seven!

They do have some awesome pancakes in Sri Lanka which are called Hoppers, they’re made in the shape of a bowl and my favourite one comes with an egg in the middle. And to be fair they do like to talk about what goes in their food more, often tending to show me the weird and wonderful ingredients they use. Like using the purple banana flower, jackfruit or some leaves from a tree. I got eaten alive by Mosquitos visiting a garden in the jungle. But seeing a cinnamon tree, olives, cashews, bananas, papaya, and said green leafy tree, it was worth it. I also got to drive a tuk tuk and yes some people saw me coming and literally jumped out of the way. When I told some surfer dudes I’d tried driving a tuk tuk and thought it was well difficult they laughed in understanding when they found out whose tuk tuk it was. “That machines ancient” they told me. All adds to the charm of Sri Lanka. Walk into a juice bar and there’ll be a least five fruits you didn’t know existed. The scenery was ace too as was hiking up Adams peak where, depending on which religion you entertain, there was a giant footprint of either Adam, Krishna, Buddha, or Mohammed.

It was stunning yet disappointing. For one, some bright spark had concreted stairs all the way to the top which rendered my legs useless for a week after and for seconds, the footprint was clothed so you couldn’t see it and a man stood there slamming peoples foreheads three times into it if you got close enough. I got to see some elephants and crocodiles mating in a national park. I should have put a comma in there as only the crocodiles were mating.

Met some surfer dudes in Marrissa yet couldn’t join because of the jelly legs. Then I made my way to Egypt to help relocate my friend and her animal shelter. I lived on and off in Dahab, Egypt for 4 years and met Iris at the markets and on the spiritual scene. I even walked her dogs for 6 months so when I heard she was planning to move to Luxor (cheaper to live on the mainland than Sinai) I thought I’d be the perfect person to help.

I love her dogs and before Iris I wasn’t a cat person at all, now I have bonded with the majority of her 19 meow makers.

It’s gotten tough in Egypt since the revolution. All the problems have been magnified and spread across the media like wild fire. As if people won’t see the propaganda (holiday at home this summer) or be smart enough to compare the risk of visiting a country in turmoil with going up their own towns which has a less well advertised criminal tinge. In my opinion visiting London and the majority of towns in Scotland I’d say I have a bigger risk than in the majority of Egypt, just avoid one or two places in North Sinai. Plus who’s to say our country’s not in turmoil with our government leaving a lot to be desired. The people aren’t fairly represented and the rich are getting richer while the poor poorer. At least if you’re kidnapped in Egypt you get offered dates, tea, and smoke and get to see the beautiful desert which you’d normally have to fork out quids for.

More on my travel stories soon, if you’d like to read about a specific place drop me a comment, thanks for reading.