Dumela Botswana

Emerald pools of water glistened as our Bush pilot manouevred the small plane over the Okavango Delta. The palm trees are the most surprising sight, unexpected in the landlocked area. Botswana unfolds as we eagerly look for signs of the teeming wildlife we expect to encounter on ground. As a safari veteran of many African countries, this was a highly anticipated trip. It’s meant to be the ultimate safari lover’s dream. Botswana markets itself as high value and low volume. In the six days we spent in the Delta, it became quite apparent. The government is strict about regulating the safari experience from the number of tents each camp can have (no more than ten), to the exact layout and other logistic details. At times, as we traversed the length and breadth of the game parks, we were the only jeep. There are none of the combis and jeeps that descend on a Mara sighting like vulture hordes or jeeps in South Africa that keep track of their animals and are in constant radio contact about animal whereabouts. Rangers in Botswana do not even carry guns. The total non-intervention policy, makes the Botswana experience a truly wild one; from tracking, to sighting, to observing the animals. 

Touchdown at Chitabe Lediba is exciting. The safari novice with us is in ecstasy as she spots her first wild creature; a warthog. By the time we sight giraffes, zebras and elephants, she believes she’s seen it all. Little did any of us know, the treats in store for us.

Botswana delivered and I’m spoilt for future safaris.

“I want to see wild dogs,” was the injunction I gave our tour operator. After twenty plus years of safari, I had only seen the painted creatures once. I needed to rectify this imbalance. A refreshing gin and tonic, a quick bath and after satiating our hunger pangs, we headed out on our first drive. If only I could bottle that special smell of dust and vegetation, animal urine, poop and flowering shrubs. There is something heady and intoxicating as the wind blows our hair, the sun hits our face and the animals attract our vision. On drives, like children we point out creatures, a kudu here, an impala there. And look, fluttering from one branch to another, the lilac breasted roller, my favourite African bird. The majestic elephants, with single minded determination, shake palm trees, trying to get at the nuts. 

Suddenly, without warning, our ranger swung into a clearing. Confusion knotted my brow. Where were we going.? And then I heard the twittering. My first drive led me straight to a wild dog den! A pack of 13 adults and a litter of twelve pups bound up and down an old warthog den. Some adults lay in the shade, uninterested as others tried to calm the excitable pups who played, jumped, fought and tugged at our heartstrings. As dusk approached, the adults got ready. As one of the most successful of the predators, wild dogs need to hunt twice a day when they have pups. But each time the adults tried to leave, the pups held them back. They followed the adults and refused to listen to reason. Pups are an encumbrance to the adults because they are vulnerable to other predators. It took much back and forth, plenty of false starts before nine of the thirteen could leave the den. What a sight as the hunting dogs run, in formation, their intent clear. A herd of elephants trumpeted and mock charged but undeterred, the dogs ran on. By then, light was fading fast. The dogs were unsuccessful and in all probability stayed out that night. We enjoyed our sundowner, listening to frogs croaking and the sounds of night settling about us, as a hyena loped past. A delicious dinner and lots of Amarula later, it was time for bed.

Five more drives to go.

Before the crack of dawn, our group snuggled under the wool lined ponchos and headed out. Fresh Lion tracks indicated much activity around the camp site during the nocturnal hours. We headed for the den. And just in time. The adults were returning after a successful hunt. Nature is amazing. The dogs need to return to the den as soon as they finish gorging on a kill. Once back, the pups initiate regurgitation by poking around inside the mouths of the adults. While there is only one alpha female who bears and nurses the pups, all the adults take on responsibility of feeding. The sound reaches a frenzy as the excited pups encourage the adults to release the food in their bowels. Pups fight over morsels of meat and some of the stronger ones, grab a chunk and run away to enjoy it. The poor runt gets small bits of meat and often nothing at all. For a while, the only sounds are that of munching meat and cracking bones. 

We left the animals to their feast and meandered along; giraffes, zebras, more elephants and lots of impala. We rounded a corner and drove into a herd of wild buffalo. Part of the big five, the fierce creatures were leaving a water body. The buffalo stared at us for a while and then continued chewing grass as they moved along. Oxpeckers were removing ticks while their tails flicked insects away. Our ranger observes vulture activity and we decide to investigate. Bingo. Lionesses feeding on a kudu. These lionesses had a litter of cubs, but probably left them in a safe spot while they hunted. We followed one who went to bring the cubs. She travelled over a long distance, calling and searching but to no avail. Later that evening, we returned to the kill and found the cubs along with a young sub adult female. As humans, we have more intense feelings of despair and relief than the animals do. 

That afternoon, I washed off the dust of the delta and warmed my chilled bones, with a hot outdoor shower. A clash of wood alerted me to some unusual activity. I was transfixed as two male kudus decided to lock horns in front of my shower area. What a display as they twisted and turned, a dance of dexterity. I was afraid they would stay locked in place because neither wanted to give up. Two other males just stood by the side, nonchalant. My camera whirred as I tried to capture their movements. And just as suddenly, they stopped and the four continued their graceful walk past my tent. The bush; at any time, without any warning, something happens to enthrall and engage.

One of the best things about going on game drives is observing birds. Big bird, small bird, brown bird, red bird. A saddle bill stork walking daintily by the river. Or a grey heron swooping down. A group of chattering African Jacana or pygmy goose swimming along, flashing orange. High above a Bateleur circles or closer to shore, a Fish Eagle strikes. A pied Kingfisher hovers above water and darts down to grab some food. A shimmer of metallic blue from the black coat of the glossy starling. And apart from the visual sightings, are the melodious sounds. A Grey Lawrie shouting ‘go away, go away’. Or the unusual sound of the Woodland Kingfisher and the White browed Robin Chat or the shriek of the Hadeda Ibis. Equally captivating is observing a herd of breeding elephants frolic in the river. They drink water, spray water on themselves and cover their bodies with mud to cool off. Young calves have a great time in the water though they take care to stay well within the protection zone of the adults. 

By our penultimate day, we had still not seen cheetah or leopard, which was disappointing. The rangers assured us of a healthy population but they were playing hide and seek. All we saw was a frightened jackal trying to eat a leopard kill. The cheetah is my favourite creature. I was determined to will a sighting. Luck was on our side and what a sighting we had! We decided to try a new area. Our guide spotted a cheetah from the road. Excitement knew no bounds as we bumped along the open grass to get to the creature. It was triple the joy because the cheetah mum had three cubs. We watched as they played around their mum. She was obviously looking to hunt because she kept observing and moving ahead. Each time she moved, the cubs followed. If she stopped, they did. Those misbehaved wild dogs pups could learn a thing or two from these cats! We had spotted impala and it appeared the cheetah had too. All of a sudden she bounded. The cubs came to a complete standstill and did not follow mum this time. Our ranger pressed the accelerator as we held on to dear life as well as  camera equipment, trying to keep pace with the fastest animal in the world. A cheetah in attack mode is one of the best sights ever. She races, muscles moving in perfect undulation, sleek body fluid, the ground disappearing beneath her feet. Alarm calls ensued as the impala were alerted to the charging predator. The cheetah struck and one hapless impala lost the battle of life. Cheetahs do not have strong jaws or canines so they hold on to the neck and suffocate the poor creature. Once the impala had been successfully strangled the cheetah hid it in the bushes. The end was still not in sight. Since they kill in open land, cheetahs with cubs have to hide the kill or stronger predators steal it. Vultures are the first to follow a kill and only abandon a search if they cannot see the kill. 

The cheetah had to bring her cubs to the kill, across the dangerous open stretch of land. She called out to them and after what seemed like ages, the three cubs finally made their appearance. The mum eventually led them to the bush. She needed to recover from her sprint, which takes a while. The cubs relaxed against the carcass until their mother was ready for them. Finally, the cheetah opened up the belly and two of the cubs stuck their faces into the fresh meat. Flecks of red painted their face as they looked up, once in a while. As we sat in our jeeps, observing the activity, I noticed a creature walking up. Our jeep was between this creature and the bush. It was an Nkwe, leopard! What a stroke of luck for us but the poor cheetahs were in for a hard time. The excitement on our jeep reached a crescendo. We could barely stop from screaming out loud. The cheetah family was unaware. The leopard was also wary. It was a female who knew there was a kill but was possibly unsure what animal had killed. If it was a lion or a hyena, the leopard would never dare to take it on. The leopard lay on its belly, slowly stalking the bush and moving forward. When the leopard realized it was a cheetah, its body language changed. The cheetah had still not spotted the leopard. The wind was against the cheetah and in the leopard’s favour. As soon as the cheetah realized there was a leopard in the house, chaos broke out. The three cubs dispersed just as the leopard attacked. A leopard will always take its chances and cheetah cubs are easy prey. The cheetah drew the leopard away from her cubs. Each time the leopard tried to circle in their direction, the cheetah came in between. Eventually, the leopard got tired and could not match the cheetah’s stamina. It abandoned the chase and returned to the impala. That was a lost cause for the cheetah. Once the leopard arrived on the scene, all her hard work was for naught. 

The cheetah needed to find her cubs before another predator got to them. The mother called for a long time but no babies appeared. We were frantic with worry. Meanwhile, the leopard was happily indulging in impala meat. The three cubs had dispersed in different directions. Two stayed together and one had strayed. The mother followed that one but gave up and looked for the other two. We followed at a distance, hoping and praying for a miracle. Our guide spotted them. All three cubs had found each other and were huddled under a tree. They were probably petrified. If only we could lead the cheetah to them but this is nature. It has to happen in an organic manner. We waited. The mother searched. The cubs did not budge. After a while, she spotted them and walked towards the tree. The cubs did not move. Once she got to them, the cheetah just lay down in the shade. The cubs did not clamber over her. The mother did not lick them. There was no happy reunion. As humans, it was intensely disappointing for us. But animals do not have the same form of anxiety. In fact, this mum had already lost two of her litter of five. Animals are resigned to the vagaries of nature. We need to learn from them. We left the cheetah family. What a morning. Like a Disney movie unfolding in front of our eyes. Could Chitabe outdo this? Could any camp outdo such a sighting? 

We returned to the dogs for our final drive. Dust shrouded the den. We realized some adults were indulging in housekeeping. The den is full of poop and every once in a while, needs to be cleaned out. Wild dogs are social creatures. Everyone looks out for everyone else. No one has an assigned duty. As and when they feel the urge they clean. This time, the pups got distracted and the adults managed to leave the on time for the evening hunt. It could have helped there were three jeeps blocking the view of the pups. But it’s impossible to say. The dogs were successful and killed an impala. Unfortunately, the swamp came between us and the animals. We could not cross because the jeep would get stuck. The dogs did and on their heels a pack of hyena did too. We enjoyed sundowners and heard the activity of eating, hyenas, dogs and caught them as they made their way back to the den to regurgitate and feed the young. We sat under the starry night sky, reliving the glorious three days in the Delta. What a perfect way to end the last evening. 

As the plane lifted off the next day, we prepared to go deeper into the delta. Tubu Tree would be a different terrain and we prepared for more soul satisfying brushes with nature.
In terms of quality, Chitabe is much better. However, Tubu had many redeeming points, The camp itself is more luxurious and the food is incredible. And we spent our first evening keeping company with a young leopard brother and sister, pair. The mother was obviously hunting and the cubs had been told to stay put. The cubs played, climbed trees, jumped from branches, yawned, scratched, pawed each other and settled on to a branch waiting for mummy to return.  She didn’t but we did, the next morning. The cubs were still on the tree. There was no sign of mummy. Meanwhile, baboons made their way to the area. The leopard cubs were in a vulnerable position. The mother must have heard their calls because we left for a while and when we returned, there was no sign of the cubs and just fresh marks in the sand; mummy had taken her cubs and vanished.  We tracked them through thorny bushes and on open sandy tracts of land. We found prints all over the place, even had a flat tire but no leopard showed up. In fact, the mother and cubs simply disappeared. We did not see them again.

On one drive we saw two male lions. Brothers who had just taken over a territory. They had killed a zebra and if their hanging bellies and fast breaths were any indication, they had gorged themselves. We stayed in our jeeps, observing the lions and sipping sundowners. Around us the sky was stained pink and orange and slowly turned purple. One brother was no longer interested in food and decided to move on. We followed him. The other stayed put, guarding the carcass from some annoying vultures. As it moved, the lion roared. We stayed a safe distance until our jeep was brought to an abrupt halt. We had a flat tire. There was a lion ten feet ahead of us, sitting on the road. Another one was potentially creeping up behind us. We were sandwiched in between! There was no question of us getting out but the guides disembarked and as we trained the night lamp on the lion, they changed the wheel. It was a surreal experience. We were encouraged to chat, make some noise, so the lion is aware we are in the area. Lions are actually scared of humans and would not do anything adverse. At least we were made to believe this. In due course, the wheel was fixed and the lion decided to cooperate and wait until it was done, before moving on! The other brother was still being a lazy lion. In fact, a couple of days later, the two brothers decided to show us their might. They began a roaring rendition. One would start, the other would follow. Imagine darkness all around. You have no idea what creatures lurk. And out of this darkness, the most fear provoking roar, in unison. The lions had an agenda. They had to mark their territory and roar to inform other lions this was their land and not to do anything foolish like take it over. 

Tubu Tree has a wonderful water channel and on one drive, we took a boat on to the water. While we don’t really see much predator activity, the bird life is teeming and we saw Red Lichwe, hippos and crocodiles. Elephants also enjoy crossing the channels and there were a few scattered in between the tall grass. The Hide is another amazing place at Tubu, where we had breakfast one morning and enjoyed some wild moments. Like a vervet baby being terrorized by a baboon, while it’s helpless parents looked on from another tree. We saw baby warthogs scared to cross a channel of water, while the mother stood on the other side urging them to cross. Two elephant troops approached the water body and there was much trumpeting and stamping of feet as one took umbrage to the others presence. The setting is perfect for a leopard or lion to stroll up and disperse all the animals. There is so much happening around us, it’s difficult to take it all in. Every sense is on high alert.

The last day of safari is always depressing. As we prepared to leave the Delta, I make a promise to myself. I will be back. Botswana is like a tick embedded in my skin. It will be difficult to remove. Dumela Botswana. Go Siame. Its hello and not goodbye.

Marching up Machu Picchu

Former President of India, the late Abdul Kalam once said, 'you have to dream before your dreams can come true.' Such wise words.  My bucket list groans with my travel dreams. All I want is to wander the world, expand my mind and notch up experiences in my life journey. Given my ascendance into a higher age group, I do have a pecking order. Number one on that list was a 15th century Inca citadel nestled in the Andes; the Unesco heritage site, Machu Picchu. My dream was to do the four-day Inca trail but gym injuries forced a truncated plan.
The beauty of living in New York allows for the luxury of direct flights. Since the plan was to do a quick in and out, late one Wednesday night, we boarded Latam from JFK, fastened our seat belts and fell into a deep slumber, waking up in the southern hemisphere. There are many flights between Lima, the capital of Peru, and Cusco, the former capital of the Inca empire.
'Only three per passenger' said the sign on a basket of dried leaves inside the terminal at Cusco. I grabbed some and started munching. The paranoia of altitude sickness and exhortations of MP veterans to ensure I drink lots of coca tea was having its effect on me. In fact coca is available in all forms; there are coca sweets, gummy bears, chocolates, leaves and the tea is available at every hotel, shop and street corner. On an aside, I drank gallons of the stuff on my first day and while I didn't feel any altitude sickness, I was awake all night! I also tried tripping on fresh oxygen but don't think it made much of a difference. Cylinders are available at most hotels and all tourist vehicles. They don't really tell you so if you are feeling the altitude, make sure to ask.
Rumi Punku, a 3 star boutique hotel, was our base in Cusco. Tourism being the main economy of the city, there are apartments, boutique and budget hotels, hostels, three stars and four star hotels as well as luxury hotels such as Palacio del Inka and JW Marriot. Our hotel was cute but there are no elevators. We got a room on the third floor and after spending a day traversing up and down the ruins of the area, it was a trek getting to the room.  There is a basic spa and I almost walked out when I saw it but I'm glad I didn't because the massage I got, assuaged the aches and pains of the trek up and down Machu Picchu mountain. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
A half day rest had us refreshed and ready for nourishment. We exited our hotels and gasped our way to Pacha papa. Enroute, we came across local women dressed as Incas, with their llamas. The first few had me excited but by the end of my trip, I realized like zebras on safari, they are everywhere.  We took them for granted. Having said that, there's no denying their rosy cheeks and vivid colors of their outfits makes for a stunning picture. Juggling steep steps, narrow lanes and a parade of cars didn't prepare us for an open square where life seemed to come to a standstill. Pacha papa literally translating to Earth potato has a chilled vibe. Beside the wood burning oven, an Incan man played an Andean harp. We shared tables with other tourists and got tips on what to eat and where to go. Guinea pig and trout are the two must have dishes. We decided to stay light with a delicious quinoa soup. As we drove through the country later, we saw many farms growing this indigenous crop in an assortment of hues. Satiated, we were ready to hit the town with a private guide.
What followed was a journey into the bowels of civilization. We began with Sacsayhuaman, originally a fortress built by Inca King, Pachacuti. The massive boulders are testament to construction skill without the benefit of modern technology. In fact, all through, we see how Inca masons erected stone edifices without using mortar and simply by interlocking. They treated the stones like giant lego blocks. Pachacuti had planned Cusco such that it resembles a puma with Sacsayhuaman as the head. With a vivid imagination, you can almost see the puma from a higher vantage point. Another interesting stop is at Tambomachay, where the Inca people took a ritual bath before any ceremony. The water spouts from an opening in the hill. At the archaeological site of  Q'enqo, it was fascinating to see the cave where the Inca prepared their dead. A sudden drop in temperature indicated they didn't need ice to keep the bodies in a rigor mortis condition. The stone where the bodies were laid, is ice-cold to touch.
After gallivanting in the outskirts, it's time to head back to visit popular sites of Cusco itself. The city is quaint with narrow, cobbled streets. I'm amazed at driving skills especially in the perimeter of the city centre area where most tourists congregate. In the central square is the Sagrada familia Cathedral, which was constructed by the Spanish conquerors using Inca labour. Though subjugated and prevented from following their rituals, the workers managed to evoke scenes within the cathedral to reflect local beliefs. These can especially be seen in some of the paintings in the cathedral. Another amazing example of the fusion of Inca and Spanish architecture is at Koricancha temple, in the heart of Cusco. An interesting detail shows the Spanish built their church on an Incan temple of the sun but the Spanish facade disintegrated to reveal the Incan layer. It is now an amalgamation of Spanish dominance and Incan history. The building is stunning and the views from the site look out over Cusco. Since we visited when the sun was preparing to set, the entire monument was bathed in a golden glow.
A quick rest in our hotel and we were set for another meal. 'Try Limo,' our guide and hotel receptionist told us. "It's the best restaurant in Cusco.'  We made a reservation but when we got there, it turned out to be a fancy Japanese restaurant. We decided to give it a skip. When in Peru and all that! One of the tourists we'd encountered had suggested Cicciolina. Google maps took us all over the square and after much back and forth, we finally went down a side street and panted our way up to the second floor restaurant of an old colonial home. The building seems to have many interesting art galleries and cute eating places. I couldn't wait to have my first Pisco sour in Peru. But we were in for a disappointment. The minimum wait time was 45 minutes. We were exhausted and had an early morning departure the next day. They directed us to Baco but it seemed pretty dead. We had a nondescript meal at a restaurant where the waiter spoke no english and my friend was collapsing from altitude sickness. I did get a delicious Pisco, which was followed up by two cups of coca tea. Bad idea.
After a sleepless night, I was raring to go, at the first crack of dawn. We were headed out of Cusco and into the Sacred valley. Somewhere between Cusco and Pisac, we stopped at Awanacancha. Llamas, Alpacas, a Vicuna or two and some Guanacos milled in a sealed area. We fed grass to some of these camel like creatures but wondered how the beautiful woolen garments we've been spotting came from this filthy, matted wool. The answer comes soon enough. This centre is home to fourteen communities that farm wool and weave it into scarves, carpets, jackets, socks and other woolen accessories. The process of preparing the wool is painstaking. Natural, organic colors are coaxed with the help of a parasite found on local cacti, some pee and other ingredients.
Pisac is a fine example of terrace cultivation. Sitting on the grassy patches and surrounded by hills, is a meditative experience. The Pisac market is a tourist magnet but we managed to find delicious empanadas to stave off hunger pangs. After a long, meandering drive alongside the sacred river also known as Urubamba or Vilcamayo, we headed to Ollantaytambo. Along the way we saw a variety of autorickshaw like vehicles reminding us of Asian countries. Some of them sported a Bajaj logo. The company is literally climbing heights! The royal estate of King Pachakuti had me gasping. By the time I got to the top, all I could do was slump by the temple of Pachamama or Earth Goddess. The mountain across had caves that served as granaries. I had to marvel at the fitness of the Incas who climbed up and down these steep slopes and even stored their grain so high. The terraces for cultivation dominate the central area with a route from there that  goes direct into Pisac town. We took the 'non vertigo' path back to the bottom, which was longer, winding and at times quite rough. My antenna went up dreading the club to Machu Picchu the next day but our guide assured me this climb was tougher.
The town itself is picturesque. The entire street is paved in keeping with the way it looked during Inca times. Driving on the road is like accupressure on steroids. The vistadome train to Aguas Calientes, at the base of Machu Picchu, leaves from this town. The process is impressively streamlined. I guess this is possibly the highest source of tourist revenue. The bathroom at the station is squeaky clean, the process simple so that even before the train steamed into the station, our documents had been whetted and we were good to go. People swooped into the compartment, brooms in hand, as soon as the passengers disembarked. A quick clean and the train was set to carry another load back up the mountains. And what a journey! Glass ceiling and windows look out upon the most incredible fauna and flora.  Clicking camera lenses was the only sound for a while before the sun came down and the food trolleys came out. Travelling on this train is like taking a flight. The stewards and stewardesses offer refreshments, sell its,s off a collapsible cart and make regular announcements. In fact, on our return trip, they even did a fashion show of alpaca work garments to entertain passengers! We chatted away with our neighbors. Traveling in small towns, we tend to bump into the same people. In Peru, we met some people so many times and at such varied locations, like restaurants, the top of the mountain, in a church, even at the airport as we were headed out, we felt like locals!
Aguas Calientes station is like Grand Central station. Its crowded, full of people and souvenir shops and hotel reps picking up guests. We stayed at Sumaq, nestled at the foot of the town, right by the babbling, sacred river. We felt like royalty with a welcome drink and refreshments and meal included in our package.  Our pre-climb massage was not up to par even though the spa atmosphere is relaxing. Our guide had asked us to be ready by 5.30am so we turned in early. Luckily, I had stayed away from the coca leaves so got a decent night's rest.
By the time we got to the bus line, it was snaking up the road and away from the stop. Even before the sun peeked over the mountain tops, Machu Picchu enthusiasts stood ready for the challenge. We joined the excited throng. The buses go every ten minutes or so in both directions so it's not a problem. But if you plan to climb one of the two peaks, you want to try and get to the base as early as possible. We realized there is a hotel, Belmond Sanctuary Lodge, at the base and if we had to do it again, we would have stayed there. It's a great head start. Our guide was right, climbing upto Machu Picchu city is not as difficult as climbing the ramparts of Ollantaytambo. But we signed up to be a part of the allotted four hundred to climb Machu Picchu mountain between 9 and 10am. Though it higher than Huayna Picchu peak, it is considered to be less strenuous. In deference to my physiological condition, we picked the easier mountain! Famous last words.
Built between 1450 and 1460, Machu Picchu lies 2430 meters above the sea. It is the most famous Inca landmark and was home of King Pachacuti. The Spanish could not find the city giving it the famous moniker, 'lost city of the incas.' A lecturer from Yale, Hiram Bingham, rediscovered the city in 1911. The three main structures in the city are the Temple of the sun, the room with three windows and the ritual stone of Intihuatana.  The Inca were so precise, they had stones placed in front of windows that were split in half exactly during the winter solstice making the instrument or place tie up the sun where inti is sun, data is to tie up and na is tool or place. Machu Picchu is swarming with people so I shudder to think how crowded it must be on that day with tourists wanting to see this scientific marvel. Another area has a similar stone for the equinox. There an open area known as the condor stone where a birds eye view shows how the Incas carved the stones to look like a condor. There was a definite hierarchy in how they lived. The royal enclosure has fountains and direct access to the temple of the sun. The commoners lived in smaller enclosures. Some of these are two-storeyed with families living in the cooler area below and grains stored on the second level. An amusing feature is spotting the gardeners or Llamas chomping grass, thus ensuring the lawns are always well-manicured.
Since ours was a quick trip, we did the hike on the same day. Ideally an extra day would benefit. That way people affected by the altitude can adjust one more day in Cusco and get to the Machu Picchu base a day early for a viewing of the city the day before. The trek can then be done the next day, after a night's rest. We started out well enough. It's not easy but we plodded along, stopping frequently to rest, marvel at the abundant vegetation and catch glimpses of the city nestled in the 'valley' below. The day started out cool but we kept peeling layers as we climbed. Sipping water, placing one foot in front of the next and not thinking behind that, we ascended. "Its amazing up there.' 'Keep at it.' 'Almost half way up.' all kinds of encouragement came our way from people headed down. Knotty half way? I was shocked. I felt we must be almost at the summit. I groaned at that one.  Somewhere halfway up. we came across two french girls having a snack. 'Mais vee deecided vee won't make it before twelve so we're turning back.' That's when we realized we need to make it up by noon or the entrance gate shuts in our face. And we still had a long way to go. We split up. My friend, younger, fitter, ventured on his own. I decided to brave it up as much as I can and if I made it great, if I don't at least I tried. And if I meet my friend coming down, I turn around and give up my dream.
On hands and knees, I crawled. Pulling myself up rock step by rock step.My backpack felt weighted down with stones. My camera had its stranglehold on my neck but I persevered.
'Almost there now. Just another thirty minutes, Don't give up.' Half an hour of torture still to come. I was in despair. I puffed at my inhaler, hoping it would release some adrenaline to keep my feet moving.  I panted, I gasped. I ached, I continued.
And then I met my friend. 'Wow, you almost made it. But the gate just closed.' Disappointment whooshed through my body. And then I met Raoul. The ranger. I begged him to let me go just a bit higher so I can at least see the view even if I cannot summit. I have no idea what he saw in me. Or if an Inca God looked down and blessed me that day. Raol took pity it on me. We abandoned my backpack into the safe hands of my friend and camera into, Raol took my hand an led me overstep of the way to the top of the mountain. With tears in my eyes, I rejoiced as I looked down as the city.
There is something magical about sitting on a rock or standing and drinking in the majestic view. I felt an energetic presence sweep me into an embrace. With awe and respect I took one long, last gaze before placing my hands in Raol's and beginning the long descent. And he helped me every step of the way. Even going down, at every turn we thought we'd reached and then be faced with another steep slope. My aching quads and hamstrings are testament to the effort required in making what I thought was the impossible, possible.
And we had a long journey ahead; bus to Aguas Calientes, Perurail to Ollantaytambo and car to Cusco. All I wanted was a steaming hot soak in a bath tub and a magnum of champagne, chased by many pisco sours. A night at the Belmond or even Sumaq would have been ideal. I thought of the luxury train we'd noticed at the station. The Hiram Bingham is an extravagance on wheels. If we were on that train, we'd be treated to foot soaks, champagne and possibly a back rub!! Something to keep in mind for people who like to travel in style. In the meantime, we suffered through a clown dressed as a soccer mascot, stewards and stewardesses parading in alpaca shawls and cardigans while exchanging trekking adventures with other tired passengers.
As we took off from Cusco, I strained to see if I could catch a fleeting glimpse of this incredible city. But there's no hint those mountains protect this architectural marvel. Instead we landed at Lima for a quick drive in Centro Lima to admire 52 cathedrals, more squares and beautiful but crumbling balconies. Then a spin around the modern high rises of Miraflores where a mall cut out of cliffs gazes out at the unending Pacific ocean. A walkabout in the bohemian suburbs of Barraco ended with a Peruvian sunset at Cala while downing more Pisco sours.
And then it was midnight of the fourth day. Time for our flight to reality. As Latam lifted us into the skies, I relaxed. The tough one's off my bucket list.

Kwaheri Kenya....till we meet again

Africa: Wild, beautiful, addictive. Each time I visit this continent I am hooked; whether it is on safari, on a cultural visit, relaxing at the beach or touring the wine country. And I have barely made an indent into the country as yet.

One of my more frequently visited African countries is Kenya. While family roots may have stared the initial visits, it is the country itself that beckons me time and again, right from that first jambo to the final kwaheri.

Here is my take on how to break up seven days in Kenya. Spend three magical days on safari, two hectic days in Nairobi and two relaxing days in Mombasa. I tend to skip Nairobi and spend as much time as possible on safari but this is totally a personal choice. Nairobi is the point of entry and for all those who need visas, they are easy to acquire at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport for a sum of $50. Online visas can be got at https://kenya.travisa.com.

For those who cannot stay without any connection, sim cards are available at the airport. The most prevalent network is safaraicom followed by airtel. But regardless of who you get, more often than not, signals are hard to get while on safari. It is a blessing if you ask me, finally a chance to truly switch off and commune with nature.

My itchiness generally means I transfer to Wilson airport immediately to leave for safari as soon as possible. Air Kenya and Safarilink flights to the Mara leave from the smaller airport. Mombasa Air is another charter airline operating flights. It is preferable to arrange your transfer to prevent being ripped off by taxi operators. I like to use Sawa Sawa to arrange my visit. They are professional and efficient. I have used them for small and large holidays and they cater it perfectly, to suit my requirements, with a personal touch thrown in. And with a word that means ok ok, how can you go wrong? They agree and implement all requests. Another great way to enjoy safari is using Gamewatcher safaris. This eco-friendly organization operates within the Olare orok Mara conservancy where their aim is to give back to the community and do everything possible to become one with the environment rather than harm the ecosystem. Since it borders the Masai Mara game reserve, the sightings of animals are abundant. I actually like that the conservancy facilitates off trail game drives with strict viewing rules unlike the Mara where fifteen or twenty vehicles descend and mar a sighting. But I get ahead of myself.

There are six different airports servicing the Mara ecosystem depending on which lodge you choose. I have generally flown into Keekorok and Olkiombo. Since these are charter flights, you could make as many as six different stops before arriving at your final destination.  

The excitement begins as you fly above the Mara. From the sky itself I start my spotting and by the time we taxi to a halt on the airstrip, I have spotted giraffes, if I am lucky some majestic elephanta and as I land, some skittish gazelle too. I have stayed at different camps but here are a few I recommend. For my fiftieth, the festivities began at Keekorok where the Sarova Mara welcomed us with a champagne reception. This is also a great camp for Indian vegetarinas since they offer a full Indian menu every day and are also happy to cook something off the menu for you, like khichdi. There was a time I landed at Jomo Kenyatta and my flight from Wilson was later in the afternoon. Instead of heading off to the city, I went to the Porini tented camps in the Nairobi Safari park and started my safari with an instant sighting of mating lions, within half an hour of landing. For people on business in Nairobi and with not much time to spare, this park is a great half way measure to getting the thrill of safari. There is too much car traffic crossing from one part of Nairobi to the next and I personally prefer to get my fix in the Mara. I still remember being kept awake at Porini Mara by the grunting of the hippos and even peeping out a few times thinking they must have wandered onto my porch. Despite the night disturbances, I was fresh and alert before my 5.30am wake-up call and ready to drive to Porini lion meandering along the way, taking in sights that were being offered to my thirsty eyes. One of the highlights of my stay at Olonana, was the mad dash post-closing hours in order to escape the late departure fines. We enjoyed the sun setting over the Oloololo escarpment and the sudden darkness of Africa as we drove, sans headlights, just listening to the sounds of night settling into the plain. Another highlight at Olonana was planting a tree and ensuring the continuance of the Mara ecosystem that is subject to rampant deforestation. If you happen to stay at the Mara Serena, you need not fear the stern authority of the Park authorities since it is one of the few lodges located right inside the Mara. For those who stay at Governors, hot air ballooning is a must. Others need to travel some distance in order to make the early morning departure. It is pricey but for those with the means, it is a great way of getting another look at the Mara reserve. I personally did not want to wake up early in the morning and pay a steep price for the balloon safari. Flying in and out of the Mara gives me just as much of a thrill. The magic of the Mara never fails to captivate and leaving is a wrench for me. Deep inside my median temporal lobe, I carry with me my memories and when I am far away from the Mara, I reach inside and luxuriate in the comfort they provide as I once again live out the crocodile killing the gazelle as it tries to cross the Mara river and the slow spread of red coloring the river. Or subconsciously urging the small-brained wilde beast to make the crossing after hours of deliberation. Once the decision is made, usually because of a bold giraffe or a daredevil gazelle, the surge and the sight is one that never fails to thrill. I remember trying to match up to the handsome Masai warriors as they jump high to reach the sky. And that sky! Sometimes when I struggle to wake up in the mornings, I remember how effortlessly I jump out of bed in the Mara because the sight of the orange sky staining the acacia trees never fails to captivate me. Sometimes I just remember the colors of my favoritie bird, the roller, as it perches on a thorny bush and then suddenly unleashes a brilliant colored palette as it spreads its wings and flies into the blue Mara sky.  And departing into those blue skies, I know I will be back so I blink back my tears and look onward to Nairobi. 

 
 Not far from Wilson airport is Carnivore, a must visit restaurant for hard core flesh-eaters. There was a time they served exotic meat but with the curb on poaching and in protecting the wildlife, they only serve meat of animals that are not in danger of extinction. Driving in Nairobi is a nightmare and the traffic can be utterly frustrating. It is important to watch your belongings because it has not been unheard to hear of people snatching valuables from open car windows. 

A must visit in Kenya the museum dedicated to Karen Blixen, the author of ‘Out of Africa’. It is located in an affluent suburb, Karen, believed to be named after Blixen. Enjoy a meal at some well renowned Karen restaurans such as Tamarind and  Tamambo.  The giraffe manor appeals to many a tourists. Parts of the movie ‘Out of Africa’ was shot here and it is possible to feed giraffes. It is also not unusual to see giraffes peeping in as you enjoy your morning tea or your evening sundowner. The David Sheldrick wildlife trust run elephant orphanage is a great way to learn more about the movement to help Africa’s most endangered animals and not just see this up close and personal, but also be a part of the community facilitating this research and effort, by being a donor. A short drive out of Nairobi and into the rift valley is the home of Joy Adamson, the author of Born Free. The Elsamere conservation centre brings to mind days of yore and though the meal is pretty basic and the place is not at the upper end of luxury, it is a great insight into life during Adamson’s days as well as a scenic look at the Grand Rift Valley.

Talking about old world and The Sarova Stanley in Nairobi catapults you into a forgotten era. One of the newer hotels to consider is The Kempinski or for a modern touch, try the Sankara or Tribe.  For a special meal, go all out and try Talisman with the intriguing menus and amazing ambience. Seven is a great seafood place fast acquiring a cult status. If you want something oriental, try Zen Garden for a meal set in lush surroundings with  friendly staff. With limited time, the top two shopping destinations are The Village market and the Masai market. Those tired bones will get a respite with a dose of espresso at Java House. 

And then after an action packed couple of days in Nairobi, head out once again to blissful Mombasa. Unlike other beach resrts, Mombasa will feel more primitive. There is not too much to do and the beach is actually rocky and unenticing. The water has been cold each time I visited. But a sea-side resort is always the best way to end a holiday and Mombasa does allow you to wind down and process the days of fun and adventure. If you are still in an explorative mood, check out the historic Mombasa with a visit to the Lighthouse to eat mogo chips and Old town for some last minute shopping and photography. I enjoy relaxing at my hotel. Try out the Whitesands or Serena, though there are plenty of hotels to suit every budget type.

As you finally fly out, you will have developed a disease particular to Kenya - an infectious disease you will carry in your system for a lifetime - the hankering to go back because Kenya infects you and once bitten, there is no cure except to return again and again for a dose of chui, twiga, simba, tembo, duma and the rest. Kwaheri Kenya until we meet again.