Nova Scotia

JUNE 2006
On a rainy morning we left the Berkshires in Western Mass, with a quick lunch stop in Epsom, New Hampshire.  New Hampshire - it's fiery independance means no motorcycle helmets, smoking in restaurants, and optional seatbelts among other eccentricities. The rain stopped mid-afternoon as we arrived in Ogunquit, Maine. Despite the already heavy summer traffic, walking The Marginal Way was worth the stop. The one mile path along the ocean was lined with wild roses and red cedars. It reminded us of Simon's Town in South Africa sans penguins. We arrived at our first destination of Ocean Point, just outside of Booth Bay Harbor. Ocean Point, situated right on the small harbor, looks just like one would imagine the Maine coastline: rocky beach, stately cottages, spruce and pine trees. After supper, we walked into the evening and continued once when we woke up the next morning. We could have just kept walking, except that this is a ROAD trip, so back in the car we went and headed north to Booth Bay Harbor.

The day out of Booth Bay started off with a stop at a great little diner that has been around forever - Moody's Diner in Waldboro. Hearty basic breakfast. Couldn't help but notice the prolific lupins on the side of the road as we journeyed north. Found an intriguing fleamarket just outside Searsport and bought some vintage California postcards. After checking into the Bar Harbor Motel in the early afternoon, we entered the Acadian National Park, the only National Park on the east coast. Walking around the plateau of Cadillac Mountain reminded us again of South Africa and Table Mountain. We further stretched our legs on Sand Beach and peered into Thunder Hole. Second night of freshly caught seafood and homemade dessert. The dessert tonight was truly memorable - a wild blueberry pie with shortbread crust and walnut crumble topping. Ended the day with a swim as the pool was heated to 85 degrees (outside temp was 70).

The ferry from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth resembled more of a cruise ship (not that we've been) rather than a car ferry. There were lounges, movie areas, a casino, viewing deck, sleeping area, and well stocked bars and cafes. We did not have a view of the crossing because of the heavy fog. Entering a new time zone upon disembarking in Yarmouth, the dense air lifted. We drove east along the coast, finally deciding to sleep over in Lunenberg. What an incredible find that was as the entire town is a world heritage site. We stumbled across a small comfortable room overlooking the harbor at the Brigatine Inn. The longer days allowed us to walk around the town until 9:30. The buildings, and especially the churches were fascinating if not wonderfully quirky (not unlike Luderitz). Unfortunately they were closed so we did not get to fully appreciate the leaded stained glass windows. There was also a tall ship in the harbor - the Acton Castle - that had just returned from a voyage around the world. We easily could have stayed here longer, but this is a whirlwind tour.

After a slow moving morning we drove further along the coast to Peggy's Cove, a highly recommended place that lived up to its name. A small fishing village with artist colony potential boasting the only post office in a lighthouse, it was an inevitable tourist trap, although a charming one at that.
We stopped for the day in Truro, northwest of Halifax (which we bypassed completely). It was a little anticlimatic after Lunenberg but we did find some interesting things. First was our hotel. The Pelessier was an older roadside motel that I found had a lot of local character. It was also just a few steps from the Tidal Bore, a natural phenomenon where the tide comes in quickly to fill the riverbed and then recedes. Amazing to watch. The weather turned quite warm and windy, and that along with a long day of driving created the perfect elements for gin and tonics. Afterwards, we drove over to Victoria Park, a 1000 acre land area that was very well designed with walking/running/biking trails culminating in a waterfall/swimming hole. If not for the bugs and our impending appetites we could have walked around for hours in there. We had dinner at the restaurant adjoining the motel, which was a pleasant surprise.

The pinnacle of our trip. Gorgeous drive from sea level to 1500 feet peaks and back down again. We could not have asked for a nicer day as we drove through the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. Stunning vistas and varied flora and fauna. We saw several bald eagles and a moose. The spruces looked dwarflike on the high mountain peaks and the lupins were rampant. We'll let the photos speak for themselves.

We arrived in the late afternoon in Cheticamp, a strong French Acadian village on the western side of the park. Pleasantly found out that the ocean water is quite warm. We had dinner in the Acadian Cafe to traditional fare of blood sausage, meat pie, and stew chicken. Adjoining was a rug hooking cooperative showcasing painstaking and beautiful work. Again, like Lunenberg, we could have spent a week here no problem.

Again a lovely full breakfast (is there any other kind when you are taking in lots of fresh air and exercise?) at the small inn where we stayed - the Acadian L'auberge Daucet Inn. Today started off sunny enough for a pleasant walk, but quickly turned to rain. No problem as it is a long day of driving. We stopped off at the Glenora Distillery, the only place in North America where single malt whiskey is made. Another stop at Mother Webb's for unbelievably good bbq ribs and onion rings (a nice change from the picnic lunches we have enjoyed) in Antagonish, before leaving Nova Scotia for New Brunswick. Destination was Hopewell Rocks, an incredible place on the Bay of Fundy where the tides come fast and furious, and have sculpted the rocks into massive fanciful arches, flower pots and profiles. Thankfully we had the longer daylight hours to check it out and went back again in the morning.

Everything seemed to be closed today, Canada Day, at least until we got to the Maine border. We spent some more time at the Hopewell Rock formations, and then got back on the road for our longest day of driving back into the United States.

Tikal Guatemala

FEBRUARY 2006
Waking up early to an alarm clock of roosters and dogs, we watch the sun break through the dense fog that hangs over the valley. We pile into a combi (minivan) with seven other people and head for the border. The road is paved for the 15-minute ride until we reach customs. Walking through the Belizean side is a breeze, but it is obvious that we are entering another country, with no more English signs and quite a bit more confusion. Our driver takes our passports, disappears for 10 minutes, and returns with entrance stamps intact. We are thankful for this - we have done more than our share of standing in line at border crossings in the past. We notice that a crowded school bus drives back into Belize. Crowded minivans, people waiting for lifts, small kids playing, the smoke from small fires, thatched huts, cement block buildings with tin roofs, tuck shops with convenience items, roaming pigs and dogs, banana and coconut trees all form our first impressions of Guatemala as the paved road turns to dirt. There seems to be more vegetation in these highlands, and we are struck with the same question that comes to us again and again - where do this remind us of? The answer is Cambodia for some reason, perhaps the smallish cattle contently grazing in technicolor green pastures.

Our driver Eva is the first female minivan driver we have ever seen or driven with anywhere. She navigates the road with fearless familiarity. As we pass by schools, there is a festival atmosphere. Turns out to be the Mayan holiday of Tikun Oman, a sort of independence day as best we can figure out. Everyone is dressed up. Driving past El Retiro and Batan Lakes, we enter the rainforest. A thick canopy covers the valley. I close my eyes and breathe in the dewy sweetness of morning, thinking how blessed these people are.

The three-hour drive to Tikal is pleasant. The entrance complex reminds us of Etosha National Park in Namibia, with it's flat ground and white limestone gravel. When we arrive, Hermando, our guide meets us. Group tours are not our first choice, choosing rather to set out on our own path. However, it soon becomes evident that for the next five hours, we have made a good choice. Hermando, a University student, is a wealth of information on flora, fauna, Mayan history, and general anthropology. We are in small group and everyone is pretty easy going. Over the course of the day, we hike 4 miles throughout the park and that just scratches the surface. We see a climbing gray fox, turkeys that look like they were bred with peacocks for their iridescent feathers, howler and spider monkeys, toucans, parrots, and dozens of other colorful birds.

Climbing Temple IV is a right of passage in this park. It's what people who have been tell us we must do. However, we no longer can climb the steep stone steps in the front, as Russ did 16 years ago. The jungle has overtaken them once more. We climb 154 ladder rungs on the side, and at the top are rewarded for our work. The view from this tallest structure is amazing. We sit in reverent awe of the far-reaching dense canopy that we are now above, and can spot the other temples that we will soon walk to.

The civilization at Tikal lasted roughly from 900 BC to 900 AD (the pre-classic to post-classic periods). Seeing so many structures uncovered gives us a good idea of what it must have been like, and Hermando's vivid stories take us back in time. There are far fewer tourists in the park than I would have imagined, and that is very pleasant surprise. We are lucky to have a cloud cover because of the heat and humidity.

As we enter the Mundo Perdido (Lost World), another imposing pyramid awaits us. We walk up another hundred or so steps to the top, which give us a 360-degree panorama. It is a rush to climb up and down these steep steps with nothing to stop our falls. From there, we enter the Gran Plaza, a complex where announcements and proclamations were made. Temple I is at the west end, Temple II faces it on the east end. There are estellas and altars in front depicting warriors, animals, and other scenes of life. Royal living quarters are on one side, and there is a ball court on the other with a huge grassy area in the middle.

Hermando shows us underground storage facilities, Mayan graffiti, and hints of what is still to be excavated. He talks at great length about the theories on why the great Mayan civilizations died out. The most plausible is that they simply overworked the land. They cut down all the trees to build fires to burn the limestone needed to make plaster for the temples and structures that were continually being built. In addition, the poor soil could not sustain crops for the numbers of people. The handwriting in the present day is clear on the wall: What is it that WE are doing to the earth? It is an eerie reminder.

We "call it a Monday" to get some lunch around 2:30. Wonderful grilled chicken, tortillas, rice, and plantains. Discover that Gallo beer is better than Belikan, but the fact that it is cold is the most important. The rest of the group then heads back to Belize and we stay on to spend the night. Checking into the Jungle Lodge is refreshing as we go to the pool, nap, and hang out in the shade.

Just before dusk, we trek back into the park, back to the Gran Plaza to climb Temple II and watch the sun set. We get a closer look at the stellas and peer into smaller structures. We walk through the central and northern acropolises, which are smaller living quarters. It is quiet and it seems that we have the park to ourselves.

On our way back to the lodge, we hear a noise in front of us. Thinking it is a nut that has fallen, Russ shines his flashlight on it. Good thing - it is a red snake of considerable length that has dropped from the tree in front of us. It then climbs up another tree, but not before we can get a really good look at it.

The lodge caters to gringos, mostly Europeans from what we can see. As a result, the menu suffers from a generic vagueness. However, we have tortilla soup, and make it an early evening, only to wake up in the middle of the night to the awful wail of a howler monkey outside our window. Wild.

We wake up at 5 am to head back into the park before sunrise. With headlamps strapped on, we head straight for Temple IV, only to find 15 or so people already at the top. After sitting for a reasonable time, reflecting in the quiet, still damp vista before us, we climb down and venture over to Temple V. Out of the whole of the park, I am most impressed with this structure. Newly renovated to its former splendor, it is imposing. And no one else is around. It is only our tired legs that prevent us from climbing to the top. Nearby is Temple VII, under a yellow tarp, waiting to be rescued from the grips of the jungle. In the dew of the morning, we see toucans, parrots, monkeys, and turkeys, but sense there could be a jaguar lurking somewhere.

After a breakfast of tortillas, eggs, and watermelon juice, we walk over to the museum, which contains pottery, jewelry, jade, cutting instruments, and the first skeleton and all of its trappings recovered at Temple I. There are also a few stellas in excellent condition. We walk around some more, buy a few curios, and then in the late morning, leave the park. Time is too short, we think. We travel towards Belize, via the small island community of Flores, where we need to pick up a couple of people. Flores looks a fun place to hang out, but probably without much to do after eating and shopping.

After a long yet scenic drive, we are dropped off at the border and find a taxi to take us back to San Ignacio. We are hot and tired. Rum punch awaits us, and it is nice to sip in the shade. We are not on a schedule, so when we are hungry, we head down the hill into town. I am amazed at the number of Chinese owned shops and supermarkets in town - there almost seems to be a monopoly. For dinner, we settle on the obligatory Eva's - a recommended watering hole for expats, with decent food. We walk around town in the dusk of the day and then begin the slow sojourn back to our thatched hut on the hill. We sleep soundly.

Belize

FEBRUARY 2006
We step off the plane in Belize City in the middle of the afternoon. The air is intoxicatingly sticky and sweet, a far cry from the dry frozen tundra of New England. We notice that someone is talking on his cell phone and holding a white sign with our names on it. Wow - we feel important. In the interest of making the most of our short time here, we have forsaken the public bus and arranged for Roberto to drive us to San Ignacio. We breath in deep the smell of something burning, the smell that brings us right back to Africa. Except this isn't the Africa we've lived in. It's too green here. Except that it reminds us all too fondly of places in Africa we've gone to and loved. We both think of Mozambique immediately. Is this really Central America? Yes - there is a thick underbrush and colorful flowers. Yes - the houses are equally as colorful. Yet we see many people of African descent with the darkest skin. These are the Garifuna people, and would come to represent one hue of the many cultures in Belize.

The streets are quiet driving out of the largest city in Belize. It's Sunday and it's lovely. We drive past palm, cashew, papaya, mango, cahune nut, coconut, and even pine trees, as Roberto tells his story. He was born in San Ignacio and went to Michigan where he studied electrical engineering. He is doing some engineering in town, but picks up the occasional tourist as a side business. In talking with Roberto, we fall into a slower speech pattern and an even slower pace. As I take my watch off, we step into Belize (like Africa) time.

We continue passing concrete buildings with tin roofs, internet cafes, and small shops. We breeze past the capital of Belmopan which apparently no one likes living in. Roberto tells us that there are 21 speed bumps from Belmopan to San Ignacio. As we climb in elevation, the forest becomes denser, interrupted by clearings for cattle and large Mennonite farms.

We arrive on the hill overlooking the town to spend the night at the Cahal Pech Village. It is dusk and we're hungry. We order off the gringo menu and ask for the local dish - rice and beans with stew chicken. Washed down by a couple of Belikan brews, it's delicious. However, one would think in a former British colony, there would be a better beer. Nevertheless, it's cold. We ease into our thatched cabana and listen to the soft pattering of rain and the chirp of the geckos before dozing off.

Our days are blissfully lazy. Our breakfasts consist of sausage (Made by local Mennonite farmers), eggs, fry jacks, fresh fruit, and papaya juice. By the time we finished, the fog has lifted and we know it will be a hot day. We take a taxi out to San Jose Succotz, a town about 10 km to the east of San Ignacio. It drops us off at the river's edge and we wait for the hand ferry to come back to our side of the Macal River. The small village established an art and craft cooperative, and we find some unusual jewelry made from guanacaste seeds. Talking to the woman who makes the jewelry, we find out that the cruise ships bring people up here 2-3 times a week, and that makes up the bulk of their business. But there are none right now, and that is ok with us.

Once the ferry drops us off on the other side of the river, it is a mile hike up the hill to Xunatunich. It is a particularly hot day, and we do not have the cloud cover that we've been blessed with on the previous three days. It is still air, and the locusts that lived with us in Africa are here too with their incessant buzz.

Xunatunich is a completely different Mayan site than Tikal. The architecture seems to be shorter and wider than the towering temples in Guatemala. Xunatunich is a classic to post -classic period ceremonial center, and the name itself means "stone woman". There is a detailed visitor's center, offering a wealth of historical information, not to mention shade. It is impressive to climb to the top of El Castillo, and look out to the Guatemalan highlands. not to mention get an up close look at two refurbished friezes.

We take our time, pacing ourselves, walking barefoot across the plaza's lawn. And then it's a long walk down the hill again to the ferry to catch the public bus back to San Ignacio, and up the steep hill to our thatched hut. We are exhausted but in the best possible way.

After a jump in the pool, a long cool orange juice, and short siesta, we walk five minutes over to Cahal Pech, a combination of Yucatec and Mopan names meaning "Place of the Ticks". It dates from the pre-classic to middle classic periods (1000 BC to 800 AD) This site was just excavated in the 1980s and 90s. The museum boasts an amazing collection of artifacts: obsidian instruments, pottery, shells, and figurines. It is quiet. Like the other two sites we have visited, there are not many people around, and we seem to have this one in particular to ourselves. Again, the architecture is completely different than what we have seen before.

We are hungry, and head down the hill and east on the highway towards a sign we saw earlier in the day advertising authentic Mexican food. We are not disappointed. Rolson's cafe is owned by a couple from Belize who lived in Chicago for 26 years and just recently returned. Fantastic authentic menu from the Yucatan. We dive into chicken salbutes, pork enchiladas, and beef ganaches. The salsa is outstanding. Not having eaten at lunchtime, we stuff ourselves with the delicious home cooked fare, and yet manage to keep room for pastel tres leches. After talking with the owner Orlando after dinner, he graciously gives us a ride back to the top of the hill.

As I take off the sandals from my tired feet, I notice that I have a "teva tan". Always a good sign that you are truly on vacation.

Our days in Caye Caulker blend into each other. When we are hungry, we eat. When we are hot, we walk down to the water. When we are sleepy, we take a nap. There is a certain routine to that. Every morning we walk to the leeward side of the island and have a leisurely breakfast at Glenda's, with fresh orange juice, warm cinnamon rolls, and Creole bread with cheese and ham. With a view of the ocean, we recline in Adirondack chairs and read New Yorker mags, National Geographics, and the "Mountains beyond Mountains" book that was our friend Bob Kyte gave us the day before we left. We live in our swimsuits no matter where we go or what we do, drink fresh (pineapple, mango, papaya, orange, watermelon) juices throughout the day, and listen to reggae, Cuban, and punta rock music.

One day we went snorkeling out on the reef. The sand is soft, the water warm, green, and clear, and the underwater coral gardens are amazing. Probably most exciting is swimming with stingrays and nurse sharks. While conscious of the fact that they will probably not eat us, there is a certain wildness about the experience.

There is a small nature reserve close by, with indigenous plants and flowers, which provide a shady place to walk during the heat of the day. Further still are the mangroves. But just walking the streets or beach during the morning or evening is a pleasant activity unto itself. Everyone walks or rides a bike. I have only seen half a dozen golf carts, and 2 vehicles, one belonging to the police.

There is always a breeze. Sometimes it's downright windy. It brings relief from the incredibly intense equatorial sun.

We eat more stew chicken, rice and beans. I try grilled conch, a Belizean favorite, one evening. More rum punch. There are quite a few street vendors. Like the interior though, there is not much in the way of greens, and we both know that a salad is the first thing we will eat when we get back home.

Our flight is late in the afternoon, so we have the entire morning to continue what we have been doing the past three days - utterly nothing. The boat trip back to Belize City is not crowded. Once we arrive at the Marine Terminal, we take a 40 minutes taxi ride through the quiet Sunday streets to the airport, which to our surprise is air conditioned. We spend the last of our Belizean dollars at duty-free and then board the half-full plane to Atlanta. I put my watch back on as we head to the place where we'll need it. The long trip home is anticlimatic and we reach Dalton around 3 am on Monday morning. It has truly been a restful week (always a good sign when you don't feel like you need a vacation from your vacation).

Our honeymoon in Africa and Europe

JUNE and JULY 2003
We were married in Namibia, the country in which we met back in 1999.  The following story is a compilation of emails that we sent home.  In all, we were gone for six weeks and it was a wonderful reunion  with friends and an unforgettable honeymoon.

On our way over, we were in Frankfurt for a day and half in the interlude before arriving here.  Absolutely broiling - the hottest temps they have had in a long time.  We are really hitting the extremes.  Had a good time walking around Mainz - there was a festival along the River.  Beer and brats, which were a good prep for Windhoek.  The euro killed us though.

It is like we never left.  The smells, sights, and people in Windhoek.  It is all coming back.  Like how the water smells here, although it is fine to drink.  It has been etched in my brain after years of washing and drinking it.  Today is the "end of the month" - payday - so the streets are full already at 9 am.  Everyone has money to spend.  We are surprised to see the higher prices in the grocery store - they have skyrocketed tremendously, and I wonder how the poorer people can even afford the basics.

If any of you have visions of us tanning in the warm African sun, you can forget it.  It is cold and windy, down to freezing at night.  It will be colder in the south.  We went into PEP store (like kmart but cheaper and better) yesterday to buy some warmer clothes.  Forgot how brutal it could be.  This has got to be the longest winter of my life, seeing as when we left Dalton, summer had not yet come.

  

We have already hooked up with Zack and Elaine Pienaar; he will do the ceremony next Saturday.  I will see my counterpart Paul later today, and some others down in Mariental, where we will be for the weekend.

Since arriving on Tuesday, we have had our share of meat, the national food of Namibia.  Also had a king pie, an English type meat pastry for lunch one day.  It is great drinking coke out of the bottle, and having lemon cremes for a treat.  Last night we had dinner with Neshani (who was Russ' APCD in PC) and Clara, the PC nurse.  Eating, drinking, laughing, reminiscing.  One of the many good times.  Things just get better and better.

A jeweler in Windhoek has designed and made our wedding rings of white gold and an elephant hair.  We wanted a Namibian theme, and we are happy with the idea.  They are perfect, as everything has been so far.

Russ and I had a good weekend in Mariental, full of lots of braai's and visits.  It was especially good to see Paul, Marita, Mrs. Sheehama, and Hannelie.  Everyone sends their greetings.  The weather was a bit warmer than we expected but still glad we had some winter clothes with us.  Also stopped by the Woman and Child Protection Center, which is still in good operation.  That made me feel good.

  

We overnighted at Aus on the way to Luderitz.  We stayed in one of the new rock-hewn cottages at Klein Aus.  Blissfully primal.  We watched the stars late into the night.  I am convinced that is the best place on the planet to see the constellations.  Awesome.

When we reached Luderitz, we discovered that all the school kids were "missing sir".  We saw many people we knew, and all the students were scrambling to talk with Russ.  He was able to spend a lot of time at the school and catch up.  The principal finally put him to work.  The woman and child protection center there is also still operating, so that is good.  Many of the people I worked with are not there though.  A few are keeping it going.

The teachers at the school were wonderful in arranging everything for the wedding.  All we had to do was show up.  The wedding itself was perfect.  The normally difficult weather was on its best behavior - warm and without wind, almost unheard of, no one could believe it.  The school choir filled the church and really made it special.  Everything went so smoothly.  The flowers were beautiful and we were surrounded by people we knew.  Russ and I felt like celebrities.  The local paper came to interview us and after the ceremony we had a real parade through town, with people waving, clapping and honking horns.  It was so much fun.  The reception at the Zum Speregebiet hotel was charming and relaxed.

After spending a few more days in Luderitz, we drove north to Etosha, during which time our car was attacked by a cheetah.  We were driving north on the B1 (main country) when Russ spotted a cheetah on the side of the road.  We turned back around to look at it, and it started chasing the car.  We were going 80 km per hour and it hit the side of the car twice before running in front of it.  Absolutely bizarre.  It didn't seem hurt and ran over to the other side of the road.  We called the Cheetah Protection Fund but they didn't know what to make of it either.  I was face to face with the cheetah for about 5 seconds.  He/she was a lot bigger than you see on tv...

Once we were in Etosha we were not disappointed in the game sightings.  We saw 17 elephants, 2 white rhinos, 10 brown hyenas, and countless giraffes, kudu, springboks, impala, zebras, and hartebeest. 

Further north, Rundu was incredible.  We went to see Patrick, a friend of Russ' from his Peace Corps group.  Patrick stayed on after PC, married a Namibian, and opened a guesthouse in Rundu.  What an enviable life.  We have already put Rundu on the list of places where it would be good to retire.  It is much cleaner, quieter, and more relaxed than other big towns in the north, and absolutely gorgeous as it sits on the banks of the Kavango River.  We can see why the volunteers in this area loved it so much.

We did go out canoeing one day (no one told us about hippos or crocs though!) and touched over on the Angolan side.  That is one place we'd like to visit and hope to at one point.

After driving back to Windhoek, we flew to Cape Town.  I remember the first time I came here after being in the desert for five months with Peace Corps, thinking this was an incredible place to getaway.  It still is wonderful, just way more fast paced than I remember.  Russ thinks it is just like California - granted he is doing most of the driving and it is a little hectic but NOTHING like Los Angeles.  We are staying in an area that looks a little like south Orange County (CA) without the $$$.

We are taking it easy.  That is a relative term.  Our whole trip has been very relaxed.  I still have headaches and my eye bothers me from time to time so we are just going with the flow (a good mindset anyway when you are in Africa).

Our first outing was to visit Robben Island.  It blew our minds, even more than when I was at Dachau 15 years ago.  An important history lesson, and even more than that, a living example of the reconciliation process many who were unjustly imprisoned there embrace.  The willingness to forgive such horrible crimes was an incredible testimony to their faith and strength.

Nelson Mandela turns 85 tomorrow and the whole country has been in a buzz over it all week.  There is a big bash in Joberg this weekend.  We also visited Desmond Tutu's church here in Cape Town when he was archbishop.

Table Mountain has been closed because of the wind.  Otherwise the weather has been unseasonably nice. I love seeing and buying mangoes, avocados (for 25 US cents each), oranges, papayas, and all kinds of fresh flowers on every street corner.

We have been eating avo and cheese sandwiches everyday on wholewheat bread, a nice change from our meat diet in Namibia.  Also found some incredible Indonesian food down the street from where we are staying in Sea Point.  The local Cape Malay food is also a good bet.

   

The Cape of Good Hope was lovely, and the wind only started as we were leaving.  It is such a peaceful drive out there, and both the water and the flowering landscape are stunning.

After a month in Africa we flew back to Europe.  Ooh la la!  Paris is fantisque!  Although it rained most of the time we were in France, the afternoon of the race was spectacular.  Our vantage point was at the Bastille and we saw the riders come round four times.  There were hardly any people in that area.  Of course, we soon found out where everyone was - on the Champs Elysses.  An absolute madhouse of people, we stood about twenty people back and tried to keep our balance ontop of a fence.  It was cool, not only to see Lance win, but to see recognition given to Tyler Hamilton, and then see the past winners in a parade (sadly, no LeMond though).

Paris is a hub of wonderful eateries, and we have already had some good french, vietnamese, and italian meals.  This isnt Africa though and the euro is killing us.  We are having fun on a budget.

 We are staying in the 14th arrondissment, montparnesse, which makes it easily accessible by metro.  We did a little sightseeing to Notre Dame and the Ille de cite today.

Aah, but Germany was nice too!  We spent a night at Burg Rhinefels, a 14th century castle overlooking the Rhine.  It was so romantic, and we took a cruise up and down the river the next day.  We spent another night in the small village of St. Goar at a guesthouse also with a view of the river.  It was relaxing and absolutely picturesque.  What you would think of when you imagine Old World Germany.

The train was not only punctual but comfortable and an efficient way to travel.  We had purchased rail passes before we left and that was a smart buy, because as I've mentioned before, the Euro sucked us dry.  I have complete empathy for Canadians now. 

Heidelberg has a wonderful old city that is bustling with university students, families, and couples.  I think every town should have a pedestrians only area set aside.  It is hard to walk more than fifty metres without finding an eis cafe, and the heat index called for a double scoop of gelato daily.  We walked through the woods on top of the mountain overlooking the city, down through the castle, and then meandering back through the old part of town again as we had strolled the night before.

From there we travelled to Tubingen, another university town in southern Germany, where my Uncle Marty picked us up and brought us to his home in Walddorf.  A small hamlet nestled in the middle of fields, it was a quiet and relaxing place to spend our last few days.  We met up with my cousin Torben and his new bride Berbel, who were also married on July 5.  Russ took a spin out on the autobahn as we went back to Tubingen for an afternoon and that was impressive.

People have asked us what was the best part of the trip, besides getting married.  The wedding really was perfect in every way; we could not have asked for a nicer day.  We loved being back in familiar Namibia, picking up our favorite foods, visiting with dear friends, and going places that brought back fond memories.  Cape Town was enjoyable yet a little rushed.  However, it was Russ' first time there and so extra fun for him.  We both were moved with our visit to Robben Island.  Participating in a small part of the Tour de France was incredible, although I think we'll be happy to watch it on tv next year.  And exploring Germany was an adventure.  It was Russ' first time and much of it was new to me too.  We were on a very relaxed time schedule there, and it was really quite romantic.  If it wasn't so expensive, it would be nice to think we would still be there.