A Photo Journal: African Safari - Part V (The Big Kitties)

If you were to ask me "What was your other favorite part of your African Safari?," I would tell you that in addition to the Hot Air Balloon Ride, I really enjoyed watching the big kitties. During one of our game-viewing days in the Serengeti, we were fortunate to observe a pride of fifteen lions for more than an hour.   

That afternoon, we took a turn onto a quiet road. Guide Driver Miya was in the lead, piloting the Land Crusier in which Mom and I were passengers. Guide Driver Dotto and the rest of the group were in the other Land Cruiser a ways behind us. We didn't travel down the quiet road very far before we spotted a group of lions casually walking in our direction. 

Miya radioed Dotto. "We've come across a pride of lions on such-and-such road," he said. "Come quickly." Meanwhile, Miya pulled over so we could watch the lions pass.

Happy 7th Re-Birthday to Me!

Happy 7th Re-Birthday to Me! 

Seven years ago today, I fully embraced that this is it. This is the real deal. This is life. It's happening right now, and I need to fully accept responsibility for how I live that life. Seven years ago, I resolved to accept responsibility for living my own life. No longer would I trudge through the days wishing I could be someone else, doing something else, somewhere else. I was going to be that person, doing my thing, right here, right now.

Cycling Through Catalonia

While in Spain, I spent my last week cycling through Catalonia. This wasn't a bike trip for counting miles or conquering hills. Rather, it was a bike trip for learning the "contours of a country," as Ernest Hemingway would say -- for learning the region's landscape, culture, and people.

Bromleigh, my Brompton, and I spent one week cycling through Catalonia.

To give my cycling trip structure, I decided I would cycle to the north to see Salvador Dalí's Museum in Figueres and to visit his home in Port Lligat. Along the way, I would stay with Warm Showers hosts. This would allow me the opportunity to experience home life in Spain and to have conversations with the locals. (I was particularly interested in learning personal viewpoints about the political situation in Catalonia.)

Barcelona: A Photo Journal

I returned from Barcelona more than a month ago. Though I had the best intentions of promptly writing a few blog posts to share my experiences, other projects and life activities got the best of me. In order to share my trip without getting too bogged down in the past, I'm presenting the highlights of my visit to the city as a photo journal.

As soon as I arrived in the Gràcia district,
where I would spend my first few days, I went for a walk to stretch my airplane-weary legs.
Just a few blocks from my AirBnB, I saw these two familiar faces.
I guess when you're a big player in the world of technology,
your face and name are recognized all across the planet.

Housesitting in Bellingham: A Photo Journal

I spend a majority of my time alternating between traveling and housesitting. While I greatly enjoy my travels, I look forward to my housesits as an opportunity to hunker down in one place, recharge my batteries, catch up on life logistics, and prepare for my next bout of travels.

I spent the months of April and May housesitting in Bellingham, about 90 miles north of Seattle. I watched over a large property in the country and took care of five kitties who lived on the property. I relished in the solitude, nature, and peace that country living proffers.

I settled into a nice daily routine -- yoga first thing in the morning, followed by a run, a bike ride, or a walk, an afternoon of being either entirely productive or productively leisurely, and a three-mile round-trip walk after dinner merely so I could smell the lilacs (and later the roses) at the end of a nearby road. I also spent a lot of time Bathing in the Forest, noticing the tiny details in nature (the tadpoles growing fatter and fatter each day) as well as the more macro ones (the snow melting on the nearby peaks as green filled in the trees). There were days that passed when I didn't talk to anyone except for myself and the kitties.

Exploring the Country

It was a 20-mile roundtrip bike ride to and from the grocery store.
I didn't mind the ride, especially since I got to see this
dreamy view of Mt Baker every time I approached the property.

Housesitting on Salt Spring Island

For thirty two days in December and January, I lived in a magical place. A place where arbutus and Garry oaks hold a steadfast stance on salty shores. A place where thick mossy rugs are like opium on hilltops, coaxing you to sit down for just a moment -- no, rather lie down for an entire afternoon snooze. A place where cormorants gather by the dozens to roost in treetops, noisily chattering as the sun sets. A place where time is measured only by the ferries that enter and leave the harbours.

An eagle eye's view of the magical place, looking north from Reginald Hill.
The Fulford-Burgoyne Valley, straight ahead, is nestled between
Mt Bruce (2,326 ft / 709 m) and Mt Maxwell (1,946 ft / 593 m).
If I were to turn towards the south, I would see the San Juan Islands.

If I were to turn so that the water was at my back,
I would see this soft, sunny spot,
begging for a picnic or a nose to be buried in a book. 

This magical place is Salt Spring Island. One of the southern Gulf Islands, Salt Spring is located in the Strait of Georgia, snuggled between mainland British Columbia and Vancouver Island. The Gulf Islands are close relatives to Washington state's San Juan Islands. They are separated only by an international border and distinguished by citizens who look the same but end their sentences with "eh." With 10,000 year-round residents, many of them "artist-types," Salt Spring is the most populous of the Gulf Islands. But it certainly doesn't feel that way; nature and solitude are abundant.

Cleavage, Gators, Moronic Laws, & Other Florida Musings

I just finished my three-week housesit in Florida. I'm at the Orlando airport, waiting to board a plane that will take me to my next adventure. As I look back at my time in Florida, I find myself musing on a number of topics. Be forewarned, some of these topics are more random than others.

Cleavage

I'll begin with my most profound musing: cleavage.

I am a sports bra girl. I wear them all the time -- sometimes even for days-straight when I'm on a bike trip. Fulfilling their definition, sports bras make it appear as though I have a single, compact boob. I own a regular bra, which I only wear with the one dress I own. Both the bra and the dress hardly ever see the light of day (or the dark of night, for that matter). Yes, for me, it's always a sports bra.

The heat here in Florida is sweltering. A few days into my housesit, I broke down and bought a tank top. The top happens to have a built-in bra -- one that actually separates and lifts my boobs rather than combines and compresses them. Heavens to Betsy! For the first time in years, I have cleavage!

Ladies and gentleman, I have cleavage.

It's been an interesting experience looking at myself in the mirror. I can't help but to stare -- wow, those boobies are mine!

Valparaíso: One, Two, & Four-Legged Creatures

While the murals, doors and windows, and produce markets all make Valparaíso a great city, the two, three, and four-legged creatures really add to Valparaíso's charm.

Four-Legged Creatures

There is a long stretch of parkway between the north and southbound lanes of Avenida Argentina in Valpo. On certain days of the week, vendors set up produce booths along the parkway (see Valparaíso: The Markets). Sandwiching these produce vendors are hawkers of all sorts of wares. Old housewares, cellophane-wrapped books, and shoelace-less shoes are all laid out on the ground. Imagine blocks upon blocks of garage-sales-on-picnic-blankets.

One of these vendors sells parakeets. Although parakeets count as charming two-legged creatures, what I found more interesting was the four-legged creature who was intently studying the birds. Surprisingly, the doggie was exhibiting no lip-licking; he was merely observing the caged two-legged creatures' every movement.

This four-legged creature intently studies the two-legged creatures.

Around the block from our rental on Cerro Alegre is a mural of a man watching two dogs shag. I found it funny that a street dog decided to nap on the steps below the mural, as the dog's position made him look as though he was dreaming of doggie fornication.

Our Stay in Coyhaique

Monday, February 29th through Thursday, March 10th

If Coyhaique was a record, and if the record player's needle was stuck on the particular moment shown below such that the moment was endlessly played over-and-over again, I would never tire of it.

Coyhaique kitty & me.

What exactly is Coyhaique, you ask?

A Roadtrip Through California and Oregon

As you may recall, I became homeless starting in early June (see I'm Officially Homeless). My calendar had been booked back-to-back with busyness: a three-day guide training tour on the San Juan Islands for Bicycle Adventures, a tour around the Olympic Peninsula with Craig, and the Adventure Cycling tour along the Columbia River Gorge. I now had two and a half weeks to fill before my first guiding gig started with Bicycle Adventures.

There are many parts of Oregon that I have yet to explore by bicycle. As such, I had brought my bike to Oregon with me, fully anticipating that I would tour around the state during the two and a half weeks. However, by the time the Columbia River Gorge trip had ended, the Pacific Northwest had been overcome by an unusually wicked outbreak of record heat. Portland's forecast, for example, was seeing multiple days of 100+ temperatures. Yuck! Touring didn't exactly seem so appealing anymore.

Reflections on My Turkey Trip - Part 1: What I Like About Turkey

My trip to Turkey ended a little over a month ago. Since my return, one task has remained on my to-do list.

While I'm typically not one to procrastinate, the distance in time, as it turns out, has been valuable at enabling me to thoroughly reflect on my trip.

Side, Kitties, Goats, & Thunderstorms

After leaving the Cappadocia region, we headed south to explore some ruins along the Mediterranean coast.

After a brief stop in Konya (where Ferit and I enjoyed a wonderful cafe near Alaaddin Hill while Mom toured the Mevlana Museum), we headed for the town of Side (pronounced "See-Day").

Side is well-known as a resort town. Fortunately, the height of the tourist season had come and gone. Unfortunately, Side was nonetheless quite touristy, with its many souvenir shops and foreigner-focused restaurants still in full-swing.

Side is also well-known for its Roman ruins. Probably the most well known of its ruins is the Temple of Apollo. Though not much of the temple remains standing, it offers a magnificent view, with the Mediterranean in the distance.

The Temple of Apollo.

Nine Lives

Cats in the United States have nine lives. Cats in Italy, Germany, and Spain are said to have seven lives. And cats in the Turkish and Arabic regions of the world are said to have only six lives.

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Update 10/16/2014: The above information was gleaned from the Wiki article called "Cat." Having traveled to Turkey and surveyed a number of locals about cats, it seems as though Turkish cats actually have seven lives -- not six.

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Meet Russell and Mitzy. These kitties are American kitties, so they are fortunate to have nine lives.

Mitzy & Russell.

I adopted these two furr balls nine years ago. They were the children that I was never going to have.