The memories of Matopo and walking with rhinos fresh in our minds, all that was left of our trip now was to return to South Africa. From Johannesburg, Rich and I would be catching our flight home. To be honest, knowing that we would be leaving Africa in just a few days was both upsetting and a massive relief at the same time. We had had a blast and would miss being on the road, but were so happy that we’d no longer have to live out of our backpacks. Contine reading
Victoria Falls now behind us, we were headed back south towards South Africa. With only another day and a half in Zimbabwe, it felt like the end of our trip was quickly approaching. Happily, one of my favorite experiences of our time in Africa was yet to come.
Saying our farewells to the desert, Namibia, and extremely cheap beer (we were able to get a 6-pack of quality beer for about US$4) we found our way to the northern border between Namibia and Botswana. The first stop during our time in Botswana would be in the stunning Okavango Delta.
Leaving behind what turned out be a surprisingly great trip through the Desert Camp, we were headed north. We weren’t sure what to expect for the next day’s journey, whether it’d be wonderful or awfully boring. However, headed deeper into the desert, what we found waiting for us was simply spectacular.
After a night of fearing the doll’s dress above our bed and the haunted town outside, I was ready to get to a happy place. As Rich knows all too well, when you have a sad, scared or depressed Lis there is one surefire way to bring a smile to my face and a lasting happy demeanor: add water, big great expanses of water. Thankfully the next day would have us crossing into Namibia, and spending two days paddling our way along the calm waters of the Orange River.
Like many, travelling to New Zealand has been on my bucket list since discovering the country’s natural beauty as a teenager watching the Lord of the Ring trilogy. Having a few weeks between our cycling trip from Adelaide to Melbourne, and the Christmas holidays, and a bit of time left on my travel insurance for some crazy adventures, Rich and I decided it was time for us to make the trip over to the land of kiwis and hobbits.
When Rich came to me a few months ago with the idea of cycling over 900 kilometers between Adelaide, in South Australia and Melbourne, in Victoria I thought he was crazy. The Racing the Planet ultramarathons we have been doing are one thing. They’re controlled, the routes are all planned out by a team of organizers, camp is ready and waiting for you each night, someone provides you with water both for drinking and for cooking, highly trained medics are there to aid you in case of injury, roads are cleared of traffic and danger, there are safe places to rest if you are too tired to keep pushing on for a few moments, and a large group of people going through the process with you, forming an unshakeable sense of comradery.
I’ve never been very good at accepting defeat. I’m completely neurotic, so not being able to do something tends to eat away at me until I get to where I want to be. Therefore, despite our failure to get out to Tai Long Wan on Saturday, I was resolved to drag Rich out and try again the next day.
As our time in Hong Kong is coming to a close, a few weeks ago, Rich and I felt it was time to revisit one of my favorite weekend getaways, Tai Long Wan. Tai Long Wan (or Big Wave Bay) was were I spent most of my weekends during my first year in Hong Kong. Tucked between rolling hills, it was the only place I could find where we could surf and really get away from the crowds. No noise, a lot less pollution, clean(ish) water, and some really nice space to camp.