A Peaceful, Joyous, Prosperous 2014

As festive as the picture may look, our New Year celebration was almost non-existent. We returned to Panama City yesterday afternoon, because we fly to Nicaragua tomorrow morning early. Being told that there are no municipal celebrations, so no fireworks to hunt down, no best viewing place, we decided to stay put. Whether this information was accurate or not, if there were something happening, the dangers of sidestepping individuals with wayward firecrackers would not have been worth the risk.

It has been decades since New Year’s Eve has been an rousing holiday for me. We have had some memorable New Year’s celebrations in the past such our dinner cruise in Sydney, Australia; gathering in Lisbon, Portugal where a young couple gave us glasses of champagne because we had none; and Guayaquil, Ecuador where they burn effigies to rid the future of unwanted things or people. Every year for the last nineteen, we have watched the calendar turn over in some city and country other than the one we called home at the time. Having a visual feast of fireworks is not as important to me as feasting on the love and friendship of those around me. Even when others were absent, for the last twenty years, I have had Ron by my side to welcome in the New Year, anticipating what may unfold in the next twelve months.

This year was no different; we were together in embracing the New Year as it unfolded, except we did not leave our room. We watched movies, shared a bottle of wine and snacked on cheese and olives. It was all we needed this time, this year, shedding the past and welcoming the new.

There are planned life changes already in the forecast for 2014. Our wedding is 3 months and 18 days away. By the time we return to Budapest, it will be even closer. That is a thrilling, but scary thought considering all that needs to be accomplished still. Other ideas and life changes are percolating.

Regardless of how you have welcomed in the New Year, I wish all of us good health, abundant prosperity, and a fulfilling life.

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Happy New Year - 2012

A friend of ours sent a Happy New Year note with this graphic. I really thought it was creative, so I stole it from her e-mail and am including it here.

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New Years Eve

This is an exercise in absurdity. Our hotel prefers cash payments due to their electric problems, but also with the bank's electric problems. They cannot always get the credit card to go through. They could do it the old fashioned way of calling it in, but they claim they cannot always get through. Yada, yada, yada. For a large expensive, full service hotel, you would think they had a better back up system to aid the guest. When they do take credit cards, they ONLY take VISA, not MasterCard. So my questions that went unasked are why they do not warn guests in an e-mail prior that they first of all are having the electric problems on the island, which may cause disruptions, second that they would prefer cash, and third that ATMs that work are as rare as the Red Colobus monkeys are on Mars. The worst part of this is that the hotel 236 Hurumzi, is owned by an American who opened it over ten years ago and has expanded it ever since. You would think he would know better by this time how to handle tourism, but he admitted to us that he does not even own a credit card. All well and good for him, but he is not the guest.

My original intent was to pay the bill using my MasterCard debit card on our euro account. This was not going to work if they only took Visa. Being hotter than 6 feet from the sun's surface today, Ron suggested we take a taxi to the Barclays Bank where we knew our MC and their ATM would play nicely together. The taxi took us to the bank passing the People's Commerce Bank along the way, where only Visa is accepted, but they had a line snaking 2 blocks long, none of it in the shade. At the Barclays, I jump out. There is a mob, not a line, but a mob. After a few hand signals from non-English speaking natives, I come to find out they are waiting to get into the bank itself. Only 2 are allowed inside at a time. There were only 4 people ahead of me for the ATM. Jackpot! Well, for 5 minutes it seemed like a winner, but then an armored truck pulled up. The security guard with a big fat machine gun made everyone leave the area. Only the person standing at the ATM in the middle of a transaction was allowed to finish. Ron was sitting the air conditioned taxi waiting. When I popped back in, the driver suggested another bank. That bank had 2 ATMs, but no line. Suspiciously, I approached. No electric on either one. The guard confirmed they were not working. Back in the taxi, we went to another. Same story, different bank. The fourth bank had a line, so that was a good sign. I was number twelve. There were 2 women in there together who were taking so long, the guard went in twice to yell at them. Ten minutes later, they emerged and they were already in there when I arrived. Calculating how long it would take me to reach the machine, standing in the hot sun, watching Ron and the driver sit in the air conditioned car, I put curses on the hotel, Zanzibar, Tanzanian banks, and everyone else adding to my discomfort in the heat. I jumped back in the taxi telling Ron the hotel could take a credit card and like it. This was their fault after all for not warning us. Just by chance, I had the driver take us back to the first Barclay's bank. No truck, only 3 people in line for the machine, I jumped out, told Ron to send the taxi on his way. It had now cost us more than twice the original amount quoted. Eureka! I was able to get the money needed.

Walking back, we went through the big market. I bought another bag of vanilla beans for less than what I paid on the spice tour. I had him through in a bag of red saffron too. We stopped at the Zanzibar Coffee Company on the way. It is not air conditioned, but they did have fans and it was cooler than outside. When we made it back to the hotel, we counted out our money.

After paying the hotel and paying for the New Year's dinner tonight, we had about $6.00 left over for all day New Year's Day. Oh, hell! Originally, we had booked the New Year's dinner here at the hotel, which was supposed to be quite a show with entertainment and multi-course meal, but when we checked in we saw that it was $125.00 per person. There was no way we were going to pay that, so we canceled those reservations right quickly and hoped something else would turn up. With the electric issues, it was iffy which restaurants would be open and who could cook, but we found that the Fort Museum had a buffet and entertainment three nights a week. One of the nights was Thursday, which happened to be New Year's Eve. We booked it for $25. each. 

On the way, I started thinking about our lack of funds, so took the Visa ATM card with us. We went to the bank that has the long lines all of the time, because it was closest. Ron fussed that we could do this tomorrow, but I insisted that doing it after the sun has set was smarter than during the heat of the day. At the rate people were going through the line, he estimated we would finish in an hour. An hour tonight was better than 2 tomorrow. When we were 4th in line, people came out crumbling, all natives. When I asked someone what they were saying, I did not like the response. The machine is out of money. Well, I would not take that for an answer, so while the rest were moaning, I moved forward. Like hitting the lottery, the money spit out. We could eat another day.

At the fort, we bought our tickets. The "restaurant" is outdoor seating at the edge of the historic fort built by somebody to protect their conquered goods from being ripped off by some other invader who really had no right to be here to begin with. The buffet was simple at best, not having 1/2 of what is advertised for other dinner buffets. Rice, chippata, stewed vegetables, beef on a skewer, chicken, fish, and fruit. Drinks were extra. Supposedly an all-you-can-eat buffet, it all disappeared after the first half hour. The entertainment consisted of a drummer, and accordianist, and two female singers who sang to us in Swahili. Grand total, there were 8 of us there for dinner and 2 others who were there for the show only. By 9:30, it was all over. Such a festive New Years were were having.

To work off that one shot at the buffet we had, we walked around the park. It was grounded and the food vendors were there selling their food. Deciding that this year was not going to be as festive as the last two, we returned to the hotel. Outside on the street, three dancers were performing Swahili dances. All the neighborhood came to watch, so we sat and watched also. When they were done, we went to our little cafe for a cup of tea. Moments later the dancers and drummers followed us in and gave us a command performance, but their command, not ours. It was fun, but by 11pm, we were in bed reading and slept through the changing of the years.  

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Sydney Tourism

Going to the tour office in Sydney is a totally different experience than in Melbourne. It is located by the water, in a rustic area of restaurants and shops, but is on the second floor of a modern small mall type building. About half the size of Melbourne's tourism office, this would not be a problem. It is the organization that is a problem. Their only system for handling information is for people to form a line, no numbering, just one long line. To add insult to injury, they only had one person dispensing pearls of wisdom to a slew of people waiting, while the only other person acted as a cashier for those making purchases. Ron stood in line for twenty minutes with a list of questions, but then gave up. At one point, the sole attendant asked who just wanted New Year's Eve information and then passed out brochures of the activities. Bad news all around, we were too impatient to wait and the poor soul that had to deal with the ever growing numbers was losing her patience at a steady rate. For one of the largest cities in the world with a population of 4.1 million, and millions of tourists coming every year, this is ridiculous.

At the back of the office, there was indeed a separate booking desk to book tours, cruises, and so forth. There were two people working when we managed to figure out we needed to take a number here. Why would you have the foresight to have a numbering system in one area, but not the other. We were told that one million people come to Sydney for the New Year's Eve event alone, so they were certainly not caught unaware at the turnout.

While waiting for our number to be called, I listened to what others were booking to gather ideas. Hearing the responses from there 'agent' have me fodder for making an insightful decision when it was our turn, and in turn cutting down on the time it took us to get out of there. Our number was called by a third 'agent' who appeared on the scene. She appeared to be part of our family, so I had hopes of getting some quality service, in spite of the disgruntled look with which she started working. We told her we wanted to book the New Year's Eve cruise to which she abruptly said “We don't do that, I will give you the information, but you have to call yourself.” I immediately responded with “Your co-worker just booked a cruise for someone.” She turned to Mark, a nice looking young man who I was hoping would be helping us and asked if it were true. He politely responded that is was, they had the capability of booking the cruises in their computer. Mark had to walk her through the whole thing, but finally she was successful. We choose the Princess Cruises without knowing much about it other than we would be part of the Parade of Boats around the harbor, have dinner, be on the water for both the 9:00 and midnight fireworks displays, and return around 12:30 am. Sounded good! Okay, hand over $495 Aus each for this privilege.

We also booked the Blue Mountain tour that included a stop at a wildlife park. Sign the Mastercard slip for one, sign the Mastercard slip for the other. Thank Tammy for her services, and leave after she said the cruise company would fax our vouchers to the hotel by 5:00 pm. She printed out our vouchers for the Blue Mountain tour. We were off wandering around for about an hour when I realized I never did get a credit card receipt for the cruise, only for the tour on January 2^nd. In essence, I had charged close to $1,000 Aus and had nothing to show for it until we received the fax at the hotel four hours from now. The only time I frighten easily is when money is concerned. This was one of those times.

We walked up George Street to the Circular Quay where we had our first sighting of the Opera House and the famous bridge dubbed “God's Coat Hangar”, Sydney Harbor Bridge. Both were wow experiences from afar. In the distance, we could see people walking over the bridge. This is something that those who do not have a serious fear of heights do for the fun of it and the amazing views. For me, those views can be found on postcards. I don't need to climb into the heavens to see them for myself, thank you very much. Finding the Museum of Contemporary Art after being intrigued by the posters around the city, we discovered the exhibit of headless mannequins by Yinka Shonibare MBE. He uses wax to create bodies that he designed clothes using Nigerian folk designs on Dutch fabric, arranging them in different situations. One example was a table of ten supposedly men, sitting around a table playing poker. What one becomes aware of is the amount of information that is perceived through body language alone, without a single facial expression. No pictures were allowed, breaking my heart. I would have loved to be able to share these.

Strolling back to Hyde Park, we spent some time looking over the Archibald fountain displaying Greek mythological figures such as Diana and Apollo. On the other side of Hyde Park, there is a lovely garden and different fountain dedicated to Prince Albert, the consort to Queen Victoria. However, it also has the ANZAC memorial remembering the Australian and New Zealand men who lost their life in wars. A young man was sitting on the steps smoking a hookah, at least until the police came and disrupted his peaceful times.

By this time, it was 6:00 pm. Anxious to find a fax with our cruise vouchers, we headed back to the hotel to check with reception. No fax was waiting for us. I called the number for the cruise line that Tammy had supplied, reaching someone within three rings, surprising me due to the hour. The cordial woman said they have not sent out the faxes to anyone yet, had not promised it by 5:00 pm, but we would have it by 9:00 pm. This was nerve wracking also since the reception closes at 8:00 pm.

Noting it was out of my control, we went to Oxford Street, the gayest street this side of the equator according to the young guy who checked us into the hotel. For dinner, we chose a restaurant called La. The specials looked appealing and the prices were even more so. It was a good choice of places; we needed an extra walk after dinner and a stop at Gloria Jeans coffee before going back to check e-mails. I had to buy time at Gloria Jeans for WiFi access. No one seems to know of any free WiFi spots around the city and even those that advertise it as free, really have a service that you have to sign up with and buy time before going any farther than their own home page.

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New Year's Eve

We had another early morning for a game drive viewing. Inger and Anders chose not to go; I think they were smart to stay back and relax longer. The drive was relaxing this time we scored a big male lion. Again, there were dozens of zebras, giraffes, and many different birds. It is funny for all of the zebras and giraffes we have seen, I never get over their beauty. Bruce told us that zebras carry up to 200 liters of water in their stomachs causing their stomachs to look extended. Due to this weight, they have weak backs; therefore, if one were to try to ride one, it would cause immediate damage.

Bruce was in the back with us. The driver lasted for an hour and a half, thirty minutes longer than it should have since John lost track of time. This put Bruce off schedule and he was upset for ten minutes. When we got back to camp, we had breakfast then off we went. Destination today is Windhoek.

Windhoek is the capital of Namibia. From tour info, I discovered that Windhoek is the biggest city in the country with 15,000 inhabitants. The city lies at an altitude of 1650 meters in a beautiful valley bordered by the Eros Mountains in the north and the Auas mountains in the south. Towards the west, stretches the Khomas Highland to the Namib and the coast.

Windhoek combines the modern city architectural style with that of the German colonial era. The city is, for an African town, still very clean and a bit provincial, although the atmosphere does have cosmopolitan flare as well.

The influence of the German language and culture is, in many ways, still present. There are German restaurants where one can have traditional German dishes, bread and beer, and even celebrate the German carnival. Although English is the official language, one can use German just about anywhere.

We have a long drive ahead, though it seems like we have already driven for a hundred hours today already, before we stopped for a stretch and bathroom break. We drove again until we reached an area with dozens of outdoor stalls selling various crafts. There was another very lovely tree to provide glorious shade for our lunch stop. The vendors from the stalls descended on us like a plague, but most of what they were peddling was too large to cart around, so they did not make many sales.

Besides, everyone was tired and on edge from the long drive. There has not been any extensive interaction since the Rasmussons left us in Swapokmund. We all mention missing them.

After getting packed up from lunch, we headed on to Windhoek, a surprisingly lovely and modern city. Perhaps, we can thank the Germans for this. Our first stop here was to drop off Dirk and Harm, more good-byes. They leave us here, but they will be joining us for dinner tonight in town.

The plan was to stay at Pension Cori (www.pension-cori-namibia.com), a motel type pension with lovely rooms. Ours had four beds divided two by two with a partial wall between them. I thought we would have to share, but we had it all to ourselves. The area with the two beds closest to the bathroom were darker, so we used those to keep the morning sun from waking us. We had some relaxation time, but there was nowhere to walk to from where the pension was located, plus it was New Year’s Eve and everything had closed. There is a lovely covered patio in the gardens area of the pension grounds, but the bugs were vicious, so we did not last long.

Here we had two more new people join us. Markus and Bettina, a young couple from Germany were waiting for us at the pension. They will join us until the end of the trip.

The plan was to go to Joe’s Beer House for dinner, a restaurant well suited with its jungle/African theme décor. We had one long table to sit all together, including Dirk and Harm who joined up with us again for dinner.

The menu had many game animals to choose from: oryx, kudo, ostrich, zebra, springbok, and crocodile. For me, I could not eat anything that I had seen prancing around on a game drive, so my choice was the pork knuckle, crispy and huge. Ron had a steak, from a cow. Wilfred and Ineke were sitting across from us and we had an enjoyable evening chatting, eating good food, and feeling the holiday merriment.

Dinner gave us ample opportunity to refresh our mental energies and rebuild the camaraderie we had. Bruce had made a speech about how he has had good and bad groups of tours. He appreciated the variety in our nationalities and the way we all came together, blending so well.

As a group, we left the restaurant in taxis at 10:30 to return to the pension. We were going to have a glass of champagne together and then the party people were going to a nightclub for New Year’s celebrations. By the time we all were able to get back with the string of taxis, it was after 11:00. Those who were going to continue to celebrate out, took taxis to the club, while the rest of us stayed put. Inger, Anders, Hans, Suzy, John, Ron, and I stayed behind. We cracked open another bottle of champagne, waited for midnight, toasted, and went to bed.

There was a television in our room, so we watched a show with Barry Manilow. That was a blast from the past. He never stopped singing, so we were not sure if it was a New Year’s Special or just a concert being broadcast. The room was blissfully comfortable, so it was a great night’s rest.

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