Day 1 (& 2 & 3) London + Paris

Well, I’ve just toodled Leann off to her “locking the gates at the Tower of London” ceremony by way of the best local fish and chips shop in TripAdvisor, downloaded photos from her phone, H’s phone, my phone . . . And now time to put it all together.

So – Hi!!!

Has to be about a year ago, a friend texted me out of the blue saying, “You and Leann want to go to the Olympics?” (My reaction – “Um, whaaaa?”) Turns out that you need to enter a lottery to be able to purchase tickets early on; she had, and had won. This allowed her to purchase sets of 3 tickets (to “lower ranking” events) for 6 people. Leann and I chose Men’s Water Polo, Men’s Trampoline (which may or may not be taking place in a museum), and Men’s Beach Volleyball (at 9 p.m. – on “the beach” . . . At the foot of the Eiffel Tower!) We all wanted to go to the Rowing finals, Women’s Skateboarding finals . . . Then booked a few events together, and a few separately, via Get Your Guide (recommended by the American Express concierge as “Not a scam.”)

As Leann hadn’t been “across the pond,” we decided to take a few days in London first.

Delta had a few issues along the way – first, cancelling Leann’s direct flight … then just cancelling her trip altogether (Me: “Why did I just get an Amex credit for the $ value of your flight?” Leann: “#$@*&^@# Delta!!) … then getting hit by the computer issue last week and having to cancel ?5,000? Flights – but ultimately we both made it! (NOTE: In my opinion, best seat in Virgin Atlantic Upper Class = 1A. Only one person “behind” you, you don’t share an overhead bin, and there is a HUGE “vent” that you can put your things on, just not for take off and landing. Virgin’s lie-flat seats are a little oddly configured, so this made a HUGE difference.)

After a thankfully uneventful passport control and customs, I met Leann with one of my best friends from my 8 years in Washington D.C., Gay (“Half Way”) from the Hash House Harriers. What a surprise! Gay lives down in Kent, and we had discussed possibly trying to meet up in London – she looked at our arrival schedule and decided to meet us at Heathrow! She had a bag of “treats” to welcome me “back” – PG Tips, Hobnobs, Digestives, Cadbury chocolate . . . Yum!

After a bit of up and down and around and skyways and lifts, we met our Uber driver in the Heathrow car park and headed in to London. The sedan was able to fit the three of us, our carryons, and our checked luggage (hat tip to Solgaard’s large “trunk” – wonderful!), and off we went. Leann took the front seat to have a better view (to the left is MI5 as we crossed Vauxhall Bridge), and to let Gay and me catch up on about !35! Years.

We checked in at the Strand Palace and Gay came up to the room with us. We opened the door … and at about half way open, it slammed into the foot of one of the beds! The room is clean, mattresses are comfy, shower head can be raised so only minimal ducking … Who needs a ton of floor space? 🙂

We decided to head down to the Art Deco-inspired “gin joint” at the hotel. The atmosphere was fun; each cocktail was inspired in some way by a historic event at The Strand Palace or person involved in its history.

Gay told us that it had been raining before we arrived, and we all wondered how it would affect the Olympics Opening Ceremony, which we thought was starting at just about the time our drinks arrived. (No TVs in the “gin joint.”) We had a super fun evening, though Leann and I were starting to be a bit “worse for wear” jet-lag-wise. Gay had taken a train up from Kent and was staying at a nearby hotel, so we bid her “adieu,” actually thinking we would be able to meet up the next day (Spoiler Alert: Bad cell phone communications…*sigh*)

When we got back to our room, Leann and I changed into jammies (mine, the ones I had “liberated” from Virgin Airlines), turned on BBC, and were just in time to see the Ukrainian athletes slide by in their barge on the Seine. We had missed the beginning with Lady Gaga, the Marie Antoinettes holding their heads in the windows of Versailles, ménage at Trois at ?the library?, all countries before “U”, etc. – but we saw the end of the parade of athletes, the “fashion show,” dancing, “steampunkesque” horse and rider on the Seine (amazing!), fireworks, parkour/ninja delivering the torch, Carl Lewis and Serena carrying the torch in the wavy water (Serena looked seasick!), turn-of-the-last-century-style balloon as the Eternal Flame “caldron,” Celine Dion and, of course, *THE RAIN*! We discussed how we hoped that none of the athletes would come down with a cold! It was *pouring*.

Didn’t sleep great this first night . . . And then, waking up at about 3 a.m. local time, I had a “Waaaaaait a second…” moment, and quietly got out my phone and started doing a bit of research.

I was to start off with a guided tour of the Churchill War Rooms, which is run by the Imperial War Museum. Back when I was in grammar school and high school, my family had a board game that we called the “London Tube” game. I don’t really remember how to play it, but I *do* remember that if you had to get to the IWM (Imperial War Museum), it was *way* down in a part of London that was difficult to get back from, at a station called “Elephant and Castle.” Leann and I had planned that she would go to the IWM, I would do the War Rooms, and we would meet when I was done.

Herbert and I had gone to the IWR the last time we were in London. We both loved it. But my 3 a.m. wake-up was a reminder from far earlier, when I had been in London with my cousin Robin. That memory centered around St. James’s Park – which is far from Elephant and Castle – walking past the War Rooms “entry” and discussing it.

Sure enough – I looked up the War Rooms – and they were *nowhere near* the actual War Museum. Yikes!

When Leann “finally” woke up (about 5 lol), I told her what I had uncovered. We decided to scrap the idea of actually going to the IWM at all (remember the Tube game? It’s out of the way, not near other sights…) She would come with me to the War Rooms (which are, indeed, across from St James’s Park), and do what she had really wanted to do at some point in our travels – head down to the Thames and see Ben Ben, Westminster, etc. Perfect!

We found the only coffee shop open in about a 5 mile radius at that hour (truth!), took a few snaps, and then she was off to the Thames, I was off to the War Rooms. The streets were deserted, though we kept coming across barriers, police, etc. (More on that later.)

Here are a few shots from Leann’s jaunt while I was 12’ underground in Churchill’s War Rooms. (Yes, only twelve feet!) I cropped them to be a bit more artistic, but I would *bet you* if you asked her nicely, she’ll show you the actual photos. 🙂 And BY the way, did you know that “Big Ben” is NOT the name of the clock tower? “Big Ben” is the name of the bell inside…the clock tower is Elizabeth Tower. Yes, really!

Meanwhile, I was (only) 12 feet underground, doing the tour of the War Rooms. If you think they are a close and claustrophobic rabbit warren now, imagine adding thick cigar and cigarette smoke from every single person! When the “fresh” air came in from outside, it was so polluted with dust, grit, etc from the continual bombing (plus the “usual pollution that was rampant in London until just recently” per our guide), in actual fact, the cigarette and cigar-laden air was considered preferable!

Once Leann and I met back up, we headed over to Buckingham Palace, which was PACKED with people obviously believing they were going to see the Changing of the Guard at 11:00. It was about 10:50 … but it was Saturday (no Changing). Since we were “In The Know,” we headed through a gorgeous sunny St. James’s Park up to Fortnum and Mason to have a scone and some Countess Grey.

We tried to catch a cab from F&M to Raffles, where we were having lunch. First, the driver texted us that we had to walk about 3-4 blocks, because the roads were closed. Once we got in the car and drove about 3 more blocks, he said that we would get there faster if we walked – it would take him about 40 minutes by car but it would take us about 25 minutes to walk. And he charged us the full fare – ah well….

We followed Citymapper through back streets and wound up on the Plaza behind the horse guards – just as they were having a changing of the guards! That was a huge surprise! In case you’re wondering, the guards with the big bearskin helmets are all infantry. They “stopped smiling” during Victoria’s reign. She had lost her husband – the love of her life – early, and from that moment she started wearing black and “never smiled again.” The guards in “sympathy” also started looking more stalwart. It’s currently $200 if you are caught smiling, which goes directly to the Royals. Leann and I talked about it being like a Secret Shopper in a store – perhaps they have “Secret Tourists Snapping Photos”??

When we finally made it to Raffles, we accidentally wound up in the Drawing Room versus the Guard’s Bar, and had a spendy high tea. It was great, just unexpected. Our waiter was particularly nice. He was from Portugal. Actually told us he had been almost a shut-in computer guy, but after COVID he decided to get into the hospitality industry and “learn how to” talk to people, etc. He now was exceptionally proud to be a waiter at Raffles.

Turns out the Amex concierge had booked us in the Drawing Room though I’d asked for the Guard Room Bar. When I went to the Guard’s Bar to apologize that we hadn’t shown up for our reservation, they felt bad for us and gave us a glass of champagne, gratis. 🙂

There had been an *enormous* protest when we were at Raffles. The maitre d’ told us that they had been told to “plan for” two protests today, but had found out that morning that there would be three. That’s why *so* many roads were closed.

The bartender at the Guard Bar gave us a “back way” to avoid the protest, closed roads, etc on the Strand, which we followed. It took us under the Embarkment and then into a sweet little park that ended right behind the Savoy, which was across the street from our hotel. Score!

Police laden down with machine guns across their chests = a completely different visual than anything I expected in the U.K. As most folks know, generally Police in Britain do not have guns. The idea is that if a policeman is shot, “everyone knows” that the police do not have guns, so it’s far, far more egregious than other countries.

We walked back to the hotel; Leann took a nap while I started downloading photos for this post! The wifi here is pretty slow, so it’s been a bit of a slog.

She headed out about two hours ago for her “Key Ceremony” locking the doors of the Tower of London – and she wanted to get a “fish and chips” while alone (since I’m allergic to fish). She did text me that she made it, had a great time, and was checking off another thing on her “bucket list” – a ride in a black cab with “suicide doors” on the way back to the hotel.

As an enormous surprise, a beautiful cheese and fruit plate, and champagne, showed up at our door, courtesy of my friend’s family, as a thank you for helping them through some personal sorrow. What an amazing surprise! I am now completely happy and completely stuffed!

Tomorrow: British Museum meeting up with another friend from the U.S. who moved back to the U.K., our “actual” high tea at The Langham, some other things that I’m forgetting about (lol) and a Jack The Ripper tour in the evening!

Cheers!

Gyms & COVID-19

We have to close our gym! What can we do about our lease obligations? What about income?

1.       Quickly consider alternative/home-based workouts. Sometimes necessity has to be the mother of invention. Consider setting up a “virtual gym” for your members who may also be stuck at home because of school closings, work closings, etc. If you can still actually access your gym (i.e., you are not under a “shelter in place” order), set up a camera and do a Live Stream. Perhaps do it outside! (Maybe cajole your members outside, too!) Consider loaning out some of your equipment for the duration of any closing (keep a very good list of who took what, of course!) Maybe come up with “prizes” (case of Corona, anyone?) for members who can show that they kept up with their workouts – what about a dedicated “hashtag” related to your gym on social media? How about a prize for the biggest [weight loss/bicep increase/squat hold] differential during your shutdown? This is likely to be your best bet to keep your income flowing – keep your members happy and keep them working out. Your head too full to come up with workouts on your own? Always remember that Crossfit® HQ has your back 😊 www.crossfit.com/workout/

2.       Consider novel payment options. Perhaps, as an alternative to suspending monthly memberships, give your members the option to continue to pay while you “add more time onto” the “end” of their memberships. At our gym, we don’t have “punch cards,” we have drop-in fees (highest $), monthly fees (worthwhile if you’re coming more than once a week), and then annualized fees, paid monthly (lowest rate by far). When given the option today, annualized members seem overwhelmingly to be choosing not to suspend. As Crossfit members, we love our affiliates – give your members choices to help you that are still beneficial to them. Keeping payments flowing during the crisis should be your main goal – give something in the future to smooth your situation now. Even the promise of a Mexico-inspired (Corona, remember?) member party at the end of all this will keep community spirits up.

3.       Keep updated on your mayor’s proclamations. For example, as I write this, our local mayor and two others in different states’ cities (found in a cursory Google search) are stating that landlords cannot penalize tenants (including commercial tenants) that are unable to make their rent during the pandemic. Be sure you understand what might be available to you, and what you need to do to avail yourself of it. This might also include checking out any tenant organizations that cover commercial leases, as well as your local small business organizations. While it might seem unpalatable to take out a loan due to this situation, it is a better choice than to get behind on your obligations – things inevitably wind up snowballing.

4.       Read your lease. In general, to get a break as a tenant, you’d need to prove that either (i) your obligations under the lease have “substantially changed” so that it’s impossible to perform the lease (deeming the lease “frustrated”); or (ii) that a global pandemic like COVID-19 fits under a “force majeure” boilerplate in your lease.

Unfortunately, though not surprisingly, most leases do not have protections like this. Most (if not all) leases are drafted by the landlord. If you didn’t involve an attorney in your lease negotiation, it’s virtually guaranteed that your contract is “silent” on protections for you as a tenant. Moreover, in general, commercial leases require damage/destruction to the premises itself for rent suspension to be triggered under (i) in the above paragraph – and a pandemic doesn’t fit the bill.

What about (ii), force majeure? Force Majeure provisions address “Acts of God” – events “beyond the reasonable control of a party” that prevent that party from performing their contractual obligations. A typical “Act of God” is a hurricane, earthquake, or a flood.

 Sadly, it’s important to note that, even if a contract has a force majeure clause, nearly all of them exempt ”monetary obligations” (such as rent payments). But, it can’t hurt to take a look: If your contract has one, and it includes language that says “including, but not limited to…” then perhaps you can suspend your performance (in the case of a lease, this would be paying rent) until you can re-open your doors. However, this doesn’t actually excuse your payments . . . it just allows you to push your payment forward by the amount of time it takes to right yourself (or for the number of days stated in the contract – some state that you can push your obligations forward, for example, “the lesser of” the amount of time that it takes to right yourself, or [10] days).

As an aside, if you do happen to find a force majeure clause in a contract, also know that an Act of God clause can’t protect non-performance if the force majeure event occurs after the delayed performance; there are also always very specific notice provisions. 

If you’re actually planning to just throw up your hands and default on your contractual obligations, it really is strongly advisable not to do this. If your lease has an “attorneys’ fees” clause (nearly all of them do), it will cost your landlord nothing to sue you if/when they win – you’ll be paying all their fees and court costs. And… since you have your lease out… definitely check for things like: (i) acceleration clauses (which state if you are ever late, the entirety of the lease term’s payments are due immediately); (ii) attorneys’ fees clauses; (iii) penalties/interest clauses; (iv) jurisdiction clauses (did you agree to an inconvenient forum, and law that isn’t tenant-friendly?); (v) personal guarantee clauses (where, even if you’re incorporated, you are personally liable for the payments – a/k/a the “lose your house” clause); (vi) etc.

5.       Don’t forget to look at your insurance. While Force Majeure provisions, in general, allow a party to suspend performance until a catastrophic event is over, what covers loss of business due to general fear, governmental direction to engage in “social distancing,” or orders to shelter in place/stay home? This will severely impact many “brick and mortar” businesses, such as bars, event venues, restaurants, theaters, and, of course, gyms.

While some business insurance/business interruption policies cover disruptions, in general, they cover loss of earnings due to an ‘insured peril,’ which also require property damage. While Contingent Business Interruption (CBI) insurance is generally broader, you would have needed “Back to the Future” foresight to add this rider onto your business interruption insurance before the occurrence. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, after the global outbreak of SARS in 2002-2003, many insurers have excluded viral outbreaks from standard business interruption policies, and coverage may only be procured through special endorsements/riders purchased at the time of coverage. (In other words – it’s too late now, sorry ☹ )

In sum, while insurance covering non-nature-related “interruptions to business” (such as strikes, lockouts, or down utilities) can compensate both parties during the period at issue, it’s unlikely (without physical loss or property damage) that business interruption and other current forms of coverage will compensate either landlords or tenants for loss of business or rent merely because the government mandates that potential customers stay home.

6.       Throw yourself on the mercy of the courts? Since your lease is likely silent on force majeure, and your insurance likely doesn’t call out “COVID-19” directly, if your landlord sues you, the courts in your jurisdiction will determine whether you win based on the foreseeability of the event and the jurisdiction’s statutes/ precedents. But don’t hold your breath. For example, in an insurance case where an event organizer intended to lease space at the Jacob Javits Center in Manhattan shortly after 9/11, but the City of New York decided to utilize the Javits Center as an operational hub and therefore “ordered” it closed to non-first responder personnel, the courts held that the event organizer’s insurance only covered “direct physical loss or damage,” not loss of business. Penton Media, Inc. v. Affiliated FM Insurance Co., 245 F. App’x 495, No. 06-4215 (2007).

Be safe – and live up to your side of contracts, even if you need to pay everyone a little versus paying nothing. If you wind up in court, while I can’t guarantee it, this is likely to be looked at more favorably than just throwing up your hands and hiding your head in the sand(bags).

The information provided in this article does not, and is not intended to, constitute legal advice; instead, all information and content are for general informational purposes only.  This article may not constitute the most up-to-date legal or other information. Readers should contact their attorney to obtain advice with respect to any particular legal matter.  No reader should act or refrain from acting on the basis of this article without first seeking legal advice from counsel in the relevant jurisdiction.  Only your individual attorney can provide assurances that the information contained herein – and your interpretation of it – is applicable or appropriate to your particular situation.  This article does not create an attorney-client relationship. All liability with respect to actions taken or not taken based on the contents are hereby expressly disclaimed. This article is provided AS IS; no representations are made that it is error-free.

5k Training Tips for Beginning Runners on a Busy Schedule by Julie Morris

We’re lucky enough to have another post by Coach Julie! You may remember our first post by Coach Julie on Stress Management, which you can re-read HERE. Today, she’s talking training tips to get you on the road to your first 5k!

Running is a fantastic way to keep in shape, but it can be a tricky activity to pin down when you’re a beginner. Not only do you have to figure out how to stay safe and make sure your body is well taken care of, you also have to find time to get in the amount of running that’s right for you. Busy professionals sometimes have a difficult time with this, especially when they decide they want to start training for a 5K race. Time management is important, but fortunately there are several simple things you can do to fit in some training.

Planning wisely is crucial, since your body needs time to cool down and recover. When you have a busy schedule, it’s important to prepare for every aspect of your workout, including the downtime. It’s also a good idea to start out slowly, which will allow you to focus on your body’s strengths and work on your weaknesses without risk of injury. And you’ll also need the right gear, including a fitness tracker, to help monitor your progress.

Here are a few tips on how to start training as a 5K runner when you have a busy schedule.

Use tech to your advantage

Technology can be extremely useful for beginners who want to figure out the best way to start training. Fitness trackers, apps, and smart watches are great tools to help you keep track of your progress, your health, and even the amount of calories you’re burning, meaning you’ll be using your time wisely each time you go for a run. They can even act as motivation and can help to keep you safe; for example, the latest model of Apple’s smartwatches, the Apple Watch Series 5, includes features like an electrocardiogram and has an SOS feature if you should find yourself in trouble while on a run. Meanwhile, the Fossil Gen 5 smartwatch delivers smooth performance and has a battery-saving mode for longer battery life. (Note from Sandy: I happen to have a Withings Steel HR smartwatch, and I LOVE IT. It has fantastic performance, is easy to use, and the battery lasts for weeks! It also “looks like a watch” which to me is a huge benefit. I have the black face/rose gold model, so even the black “notification” screen looks just like a regular watchface unless a notification is coming through. Because I had the initial generation of this watch, which had a flaw, they sent me the Withings SmartScale as an “apology” (and a new watch) – so that also links into the app. It doesn’t do all the fancy “close your rings” stuff that an Apple smart watch does, but because it actually looks like a classy non-digital, non-“smartwatch” watch, I’m willing to forego some of those “bells and whistles.” Links not tied into any sort of affiliate deal, btw.)

Focus on your recovery

It’s essential to make sure your body can recover after each run, especially as you start to train and are running more often. Staying hydrated and waiting at least three hours after eating before you go for a run are great tips, and you should also ice your muscles to keep soreness at bay. Keep your diet in mind as well; eating the right foods like bananas and plain yogurt can help you keep your body on track and will boost your energy and fuel your muscles. Make sure you integrate those foods into your daily routine; bring your own snacks to work so you won’t have to rely on unhealthy vending items, and start doing meal prep for the week so you can save time.

Come prepared

Running and training for marathons can be time-consuming activities, especially if you don’t have the right equipment beforehand. Come prepared with the right clothing, shoes, and other gear so you can get through the run without any distractions or issues. If you’re going to be a serious runner, it’s a good idea to choose shoes for your foot type (narrow or wide). Break them in beforehand, as well. Also, keep in mind that outside factors can affect your run, such as weather and terrain.

Run when you can

When you’re a busy professional, sometimes you have to seize the opportunity to run whenever you can. This might mean going out for a jog on your lunch break, or waking up earlier than normal to run, so think about the option that makes the most sense for you. Some people don’t do well with a routine that doesn’t have a schedule attached to it, but when you’re busy, sometimes you have to learn to work around things a little.

Training to be a 5K runner is a lot of hard work, but it can be very rewarding at the same time. By utilizing the tools at your disposal, you can ensure that you’re able to keep your body safe and in great shape as you go. Keep comfort in mind as much as possible so you won’t cut down on your run time with aches and pains.

Julie Morris is a Life and Career Coach, and can be found at JulieMorris.Org.

The New Normal

I mentioned in my previous post that we had met with Michael Broffman at the Pine Street Clinic to get our protocol during the “cyberknife” treatment and as an overview for what we need to think about not only at Sanoviv, but also into the future. Pine Street Clinic has specialized in evidence-based integrative medicine since 1982. These are my notes from that meeting, which I think are incredibly instructive for the “New Normal After Cancer.”

Broffman advised us to treat our month at Sanoviv as a place to get into a routine….to learn the curriculum and then carry it back in a “return home” program. He strongly suggested sticking with Sanoviv’s meal program – mostly vegetarian with low net carbs. He said that our follow-on plan should involve committing to, for 24 months after returning from Sanoviv, eliminating red meat, pork, lamb, etc. (whether or not organic/grass fed). Basically to stick with chicken (if 100% sustainably sourced), eggs (same), and seafood (ditto). He advised us to eat what we have in the freezer now (which we are – we are calling these two weeks our MeatFest(TM)!) 😉

Broffman reiterated that the Quantity that we should consume is directly related to Fitness. So, on any day we’re “desk bound,” we need to stay Vegan on that day. If we’re doing Strength work, we can have some animal protein. (There’s more below about “Fitness.”) That said, the human animal is an omnivore, and needs meat. Just not as much as the “now typical” American diet gives it — especially as most “so-called meat” is produced by BigFarm and contains the stress of animals “engineered” to get as fat as possible in record time . . . who live in terrible conditions, are fed on suboptimal feed, and are not treated as sentient beings.

Vitamin C IV treatment: This is something that is done at Sanoviv, and we are to get hubby’s calculated Vitamin C blood saturation. How this apparently works is that your target saturation is 350 nanograms/milliliter. So each time you do the IV, they will test to see how much they have to give you to get you to this ultimate saturation. If you get the IV and afterwards you’re only up to 150, next time they will give you more, until they know exactly what it takes to get you to 350 nanograms/milliliter. We are to bring that back, and then continue with this protocol.

Vitamin C + Doxycycline: There have been a number of published protocols of adding doxycycline (pills) during the Vitamin C IV, to deal with cancer stem cells. It has recently been shown that, like heart stem cells, bone stem cells, etc. there are actually cancer stem cells. Unfortunately, they are not responsive to chemotherapy. If you happen to hit one with radiation or cut one out with surgery then it’s gone – but the only systemic treatment for cancer (chemo) doesn’t kill them. Unfortunately, at some point the cancer stem cells “wake up, look around” and realize that there is no cancer in the body – and then busily start to make it. Vitamin C plus doxycycline is the latest leading edge fight against cancer stem cells. Although doxycycline wipes our your gut biome, etc., it’s a trade off that could be worth it, in the short term, as the Vitamin C IV taken with doxycycline is showing in trials to kill the cancer stem cells. Unfortunately you can’t just “get doxycycline over the counter” in the U.S., so if we are able to obtain any in an international pharmacy we should go for it – otherwise, try to see if the doctor at Sanoviv will add this to the Vitamin C IV protocol.

OM85 (“Broncho-vaxom”): This is an immunostimulant used with young children and old folks basically everywhere BUT the United States for lung issues. It boosts the immune system, working to increase a person’s natural defenses against a variety of respiratory pathogens. It is an oral treatment consisting of eight different strains of (dead) bacteria, so it sort of works like a vaccine to create an immune response in the lungs. There have been a LOT of papers written about it recently, in relation to potential uses in lung cancer, and OM85 is likely over-the-counter in Mexico. About a decade ago, an Italian cancer doctor published that 7.5 mg/day (10 days on, a month off, for 3 months) worked as a treatment for lung cancers. (NOTE: I did some internet sleuthing to try to find the article and link it, but without the name, came to a dead end.)

Beating Cancer

              The way to look at the whole “post-cancer” situation is as follows. Think of a timeline:

—————X->->->——————–Y->->->->—————–

X is where your immune system is. Y is where the cancer is. Each is moving forward, but if you can’t close the gap, you’re never actually well. “Catching up” is not the same as “Caught up.” This is the biology of how things work.

Western medicine basically says “We will buy you time, as you catch up.” In other words, they knock out the Y with, say, chemo. The problem is, that the chemo also sets your immune system (the X) back. The issue is that Western medicine “attacks.” And “Attacking” the disease is not the same as “Preventing” the disease.

Alternative therapies try to narrow the gap. The whole idea is to get the X in FRONT of the Y. The immune system must be “competitive” and ready for anything, not always behind and just working hard to catch up.

And this means lifestyle changes.

Post-cancer life must be organized around the strategy of narrowing the gap between X and Y, with the hope of jumping the X in front of the Y. And always remember that — while “giving up” things that are suboptimal for health – having good health is not a punishment. All the suggestions here might not be what you are doing now – or might mean not doing what you “want to do” with regard to eating, drinking, exercise and the like – but, post-cancer, one must persist for at least the next couple of years along this strategy, to stay in “synch” with the idea of closing the gap between the immune system and what it’s fighting . . . and then (hopefully) getting in front of it.

The Abscopal Effect:

The Abscopal Effect has been proven in trials and double-blind studies. It is a combination of radiation and immunotherapy wherein treating a cancer causes untreated tumors to disappear or shrink concurrently, outside the scope of the treatment. This has particularly been seen when Stereotactic Radiosurgery (“SRS” or “cyberknife”) treatments are the “radiation” part of the equation.

Cyberknife plus Immunotherapy leads to a systemwide immune response. The question is how to make this happen. Western medicine is trying to use various methods:

a.           CAR T Cells: In this protocol, T-cells (“fighter” cells) are taken out of the patient’s body and modified to produce specific structures called chimeric antigen receptors (CARs). Basically, they take your T-cells and expose them to your cancer, rewarding them for attacking that cancer. Then these fighters are grown and re-injected in the 100s of millions back into you. This has led to the most durable remissions.

b.           USC/Victor Longo: This is the fasting program that I discussed in my previous blog. It is basically a three-day water fast. In trials, what happens is this: During the 1st day, your body fights you (“Eat, Eat, EAT you IDIOT, I’m HUNGRY!”). On the 2nd day, your body’s “cleaner” cells cleans up anything that they see that is “easy to clean up,” because they don’t have any digesting, etc. to do. Then, the third day is the charm. On the third day, all the easily-cleaned things are cleaned up, there’s still no digestion going on, and so your “cleaner cells” go back over everything, and start going after older immune cells, terminating them. Think of it this way:

Cancer Cell

—X1—>—X2—->—X3—>—X4—>—X5—>—X6—>

In the example above, the T cells (X1 to X6) flow past the cancer cell. T-cell X5 is a month or so old, and a few days from being terminated by the body. X4 is only a day old. X4 is a “new, aggressive fighter.” X4 says to X5, which has passed the cancer by, “Hey, isn’t that a suspicious cell?” The X5 cell says “Yeah Sonny, I see it, but it’s a big body out there, and we have other things to do. We’ll attack it later.” But then it doesn’t. Since the T-cells speak to one another, the X4 has just “learned” from the X5 that it’s “not that important” to attack the cancer cell.

In the fasting protocol (and actually also the trained CAR T-Cells mentioned above), old cells like X5 are wiped out – so the newbie X4 cell doesn’t learn to “not attack” the cancer cell (or, in the CAR T-cell protocol, is specifically taught TO attack that cell). This means that the new T-cells work more effectively against the cancer.

While the USC/Longo/3 day fast protocol DOES drop your immunity a bit, the next day, when you start eating again, the trials have shown an unprecedented reboot of the T-cells and their ability and desire to fight the cancer.

There is also a “5 day fast-mimicking diet” for folks who just won’t do a 3-day water fast. But as my hubby did it during chemo, and the actual 3 day total fast protocol is the one being shown to have the best effect, we should presume that this becomes part of our long-term protocol.

USC/Longo recommends that every day you have a 14-hour interval of not eating/drinking (except water). While some are pushing this to 16 hours (in other words, an 8-hour eating “window”), the studies have been done on the 14 hour interval. Since Sanoviv operates on this schedule, this needs to be the “after Sanoviv” protocol for eating/drinking. THEN, every week, one day a week, have breakfast, then do a 24-hour water fast until the next breakfast. Just pick a day and do it. (Or dinner to dinner – whatever.) Finally, every 7-10 weeks, do the full 3-day protocol. This is what the research shows is optimal for killing the most cancer cells and revitalizing T-cells to their “fighting best.” Just pick the days, put them on the calendar, and get them done.

In sum: 14 hour daily interval of no eating, no drinking except water (or you can see it as a “10 hour eating window”). One day a week, eat a meal (e.g., breakfast), then just water to the same meal (e.g., breakfast) 24 hours later. Once every 7-10 weeks, full 3 day water fast.  

While the Abscopal Effect was incredibly important to try to obtain, unfortunately, as the SRS treatment was being done via our traditional Western medical situation, the Chief was unable to get the permissions to even do a “trial of 1” using the SRS with one of the additions above. Just not enough time to get it “through the system.” If, however, someone reading this is interested, the interventional radiologist Dr. Jeanne Stryker in Solana Beach does SRS/cyberknife plus immune therapy using either Keytruda or Optivo.

Supplements: Broffman prescribed a host of supplements for the SRS (as he had during chemo). We will receive an abbreviated protocol for the time that we’re at Sanoviv and when we return, he will re-evaluate. I would say what was prescribed, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. If you’re in a situation where you want to explore ways to use integrative medicine for fighting what ails you or just reaching optimal health, please consider contacting Broffman at Pine Street. He has clients internationally, and in my opinion (as your first visit is about 90 minutes) is incredibly inexpensive for what you get ($500 for the first consultation and then any follow-on supplement changes, etc. – if your situation changes drastically and you need another full consultation, $400 for each). And – yes – they take plastic.

Fitness:

a.           Strength. Hubby needs to be doing strength work at least 30 minutes, 2x/week. Broffman likes the “Super Slow” protocol, which uses ARX equipment. Unfortunately, this is only available in San Francisco and Emeryville. There is a place in Mill Valley that uses MRX equipment, the pre-ARX equipment. ARX hasn’t caught on so much, because you have to lease it – you can’t own it like MRX. “Super Slow” was originally proposed by Arnold Schwartzenegger – i.e., having resistance in both parts of a lift. By way of example, pressing up in a bench press, but having another person there that is then “pulling up” on the bar when you’re trying to put it back down to your chest. See HERE for example. Hubby needs to concentrate on putting mass on, which is active tissue that will work for you, versus fat – and especially “toxic fat” – which works against you.

b.           Walking. At least one day a month of “long slow distance” walking is required. This means walking, for example, from home to San Francisco, and taking the ferry back. This should take a few hours. This will become a meditation – you “stop talking in your head” and just walk. Hubby is to keep doing the “quicker” (30 minutes) or “mid-range” (hills) daily, but needs to incorporate a long-slow distance once a month too upon returning from Sanoviv. As he is currently on disability, this needs to be his “work.”

c.           Swimming. Broffman particularly recommends taking a “holistic swimming” class. This is run by Russ Monsell in Tiburon of DynamicVitality.com on Tuesdays – you show up with money, a bathing suit, and a towel and he will run you through the basic/beginner class. The idea is that swimming is very helpful to your immune system, but ONLY if you’re not constantly fighting it. We are not “meant to” live in the water, and our system knows it, so is constantly, in the background, “fighting” it. The idea is to develop breathing and stroke dynamics that mimic what a creature that really lives in the water will do. No neck movement – just roll to breathe – low kicking – etc. This has been proven to immensely improve the immune system; however, it is relaxing at an immune level only if you are not defensive. You must “swim like a marine mammal” not like a “land mammal.” Your body has to think “I live here in the water.” Swim for meditative cardio.

d.           Baseline. Upon returning from Sanoviv, we are to get a baseline of skeletal muscle, fat (brown v white), etc. The company that does this, BodySpec, uses a modified DEXA scan. It is $45, and will give you metrics that you can then try to improve upon. It is on Broadway in San Francisco. They also have a mobile van that they take out sometimes, but the best metrics in the Bay Area are from this company.

The idea here is to have a baseline so that you can see as you make yourself more competitive with the disease – as you “catch” the X “up to” the Y, with the goal of “jumping” it.

Stress Reduction:

This is another mandated piece.

a.           Meditation. Broffman particularly likes the 10 day meditation routine retreat offered free worldwide from DHAMMA.org. The closest to us is in Yosemite in North Fork. It is the same program worldwide, just different languages. At the retreat, you are introduced to the “technology” of meditating. It is a silent retreat, Vipasenna style. It is an extremely popular program, however, so getting on their list is important. They will send out when the enrollment will “open” for the program, and it is full with a long waiting list 2 hours later.

                             Another suggestion locally is the Sonoma Mountain Zen Center. On Saturdays, they are open to the public. They are similar to Green Gulch, but ONLY meditation (no pottery, tea classes, gardening, etc.) It’s the standard: meditation, sitting, dharma talk, soup and salad. A very pretty place, up in Sonoma, acres of farmland. The owner has run the center for decades with his wife and his kids, some of whom are monks there.

Taking A Deeper Step, and Changing the Narrative.

After you try a few of these out, your responsibility will be to figure out “What’s the next deeper step after this for me?” Just go with whatever sounds intriguing, but with the goal of “Changing the Narrative.” By way of example, there is a group in Santa Cruz called 1440 Multiversity. 1440 is the number of minutes in a day. They have a protocol for “optimizing” the minutes. However, he finds it stressful to think of it this way – as in “don’t waste any minute!” Perhaps instead, think of it as how many hours you have in a week – block out when you’re going to be eating, sleeping, walking, fasting, yoga, meditating, whatever – and then calendar, and stick to it like it’s your job, to be sure that you “do them all” and don’t let anything slide, at least for the next 24 months. This often happens. You need to keep the goal in mind of “jumping the Y” – in other words, to get your whole “being” in “front of” the cancer instead of trying to catch up, or doing things that are suboptimal for the best health, which sets you back as your body rids itself of whatever you just did. (You know, the fun things like drinking wine and eating red meat!)

Changing The Narrative:  

If you change any aspect of an adverse story, it will affect your immune system. (Example: If you address what’s behind PTSD to help the body/mind to stop fighting that, the body can then move on to fight other things.) Changing the narrative affects the immune system and your entire micro-environment. And chronic stress (caused by thoughts or “dwelling on an unproductive narrative”) are particularly bad.

              So how do you get a New Story? It has been clinically proven that Chemistry follows Thoughts . Stressful thoughts -> Stressful chemistry -> Bad things happen. Change the story? Change the chemistry.

              Psychoactive plants: While meditation practice can be helpful, the biggest jump start that is being trialed now is using psychoactive plants/chemicals. Johns Hopkins is currently the leading researcher in this area, and they are comparing synthetic versions of chemicals (psilocybin, LSD, iowaska) with the “plant” versions. The reason that using a synthetic version is preferred is (a) you can be absolutely positive about the dose and (b) you don’t denude the planet of all these plants. The downside is the plants may have some element in them that you miss in the synthesized version. There are some iowaska farms now, but not a lot. So to optimize, you have to go synthetic.

              There was a researcher from Johns Hopkins recently who spoke in Mill Valley at a tiny facility and it overflowed at 400 people. He stated that they have now (a) actually quantified the “mystical experience” scientifically and (b) the dose is over 80% effective in helping people shift their internal narratives by actually having a “mystical experience.” He laid out the tenets of what a “mystical experience” is, and they then trialed whether folks were having them or not. They found that 25 mg of Ketamine produced a “mystical experience” 80% of the time. This is the only legal drug – and of course, it’s just another tool. This might be something to consider around September.

How can you tell if you’re making progress?

One of the best ways is outside observation. You want to aim for “invisibility.” You want to create an “unrecognizable person” compared to the person that harbored an environment that led to the cancer. Also think of Stoicism, and books like Essentialism — You want to stop expending energy unless it is absolutely required of you. Spending that energy means that you can’t spend it on other things (like healing).

How do you “become unrecognizable”? Imagine that there is an “A” list and a “B” list of your entire life. The “A” list contains every single experience you’ve had; the complete set of all life experiences and occurrences. It includes birth, marriage(s – for my hubby), schools, and all the genomics and epigenetics that led to cancer – plus having cancer. To create the “B” list, you just want to take things from the “A” list, but as few as possible. Let the rest go. Stop giving energy to them, give them up, and get them out of your “story.”

Let’s say that means that you bring over 3 of the 10 things that led your body to express the cancer. That’s still going to be okay – because it took all 10 to get there. The idea here is to “shed” the things from the “A” list that aren’t leading to optimal health. Remember to just think “Change is good,” even if you don’t know what that change looks like from where you’re standing in the Present.

Winter will be key. It is the season of the bladder and kidney. So this is all prep for that. Even though there is no “bladder organ” after the surgery, there is a re-built one, and there are 57 points on the bladder channel and meridian that are still active. Those come into their season in winter. So this all needs to be teed up for then.

Sleep:

This is awkward, as, with the neobladder, one has to empty the bladder every two hours (it’s not “bladder material” so if it overstretches, it doesn’t bounce back). What about substances to “Help” you sleep? When asking about using THC/CBD, we were reminded that, while THC improves the “sleep latency” (i.e., the time to fall asleep is shortened), it disrupts the actual sleep cycle. So you don’t get the same restorative/deep sleep. CBD does NOT do this. The goal here is to optimize the REM cycle. Moreover, keeping track is important, because you need to quantify to be able to see what’s working and what’s not. Perhaps find an app, or a sensor, but it is important to really see how sleep is going, and then to address issues. We’re reminded that the temperature of the room for sleep should be low 60s at the highest, and that dropping by 2 degrees F kicks sleep in. No electronics/TV, take some time on getting into bed to “review the day” and get ready to sleep – basically, have a sleep routine.

              There have been studies that show that 2 hours before you “know that an alarm will go off,” you stop having quality sleep. However, if you tell someone that you will wake them up “some time” during the night (not giving them an exact time), they NEVER have REM sleep. As such, the 2 hour “alarm” to get up to void the bladder is not optimal, but it’s necessary. Reminded to ensure that it doesn’t affect my sleep. (NOTE: It usually doesn’t, but if hubby doesn’t get it right off, it WILL wake me up, and then I have to get out of bed. And hence those 4 a.m. Facebook and Instagram posts!)

So, there you go – those are my notes from our second visit to Pine Street. I also have notes from our first visit, but they’re really geared towards the particular type of cancer we were facing (as well as the phased protocol for dealing with chemotherapy), so I thought that these ones might be more universally interesting. As a final tidbit, I’d like to suggest another podcast listen: it’s 5 Ways To Heal Yourself With Dr. Kelly Turner from The mindbodygreen Podcast.

Any questions?

The Cancer Caregiver Life

In just over a week, my husband and I will be going to The Sanoviv Medical Institute for three weeks. I will be updating F&F (friends and family) via this blog on what goes on there. If you just happened upon this blog because you’re searching at 3:00 a.m. for the blogs of other cancer caregivers – well, that’s been me for a year. This is sort of a “precursor” blog to the set of Sanoviv blog posts that will follow – but here’s a bit about my journey.

For more information I can recommend a lot of books and medical articles, but The Emperor of All Maladies is fascinating as the “history” of cancer, going back to ancient Egypt.

We found out about my husband’s bladder cancer about this time last year. I won’t go into the details, but he had been having issues that he hadn’t discussed with anyone, so by the time it was discovered, the tumor was big. After we received the Western medicine protocol, I immediately contacted Michael Broffman at the Pine Street Clinic. Broffman has been in the cancer “arena” for decades and so not only has a big list of what specific oncologists “will and will not do” when it comes to supplements, non-Western treatments, etc., he also (if your oncologist is on his “list”) can help you with how to talk to your oncologist about your situation and your potential desire to use integrative treatments.

Unfortunately when I finally “conned” my husband into seeing Broffman, he was too late stage to get into a couple of clinical studies (one in Italy, one in the U.S.) that Broffman was tied into. He gave us a number of “homework assignments,” one of which was to watch the last 1/3 of the video The Science of Fasting (starting right at about 39 minutes) about Valter Longo. (NOTE: Longo now has his whole “schtick” of supplements, etc. – Broffman didn’t recommend them, so I can’t speak about them.)

Broffman explained that during my husband’s chemotherapy, we needed to follow Longo’s fasting protocol (“FMD”), which closes down more “healthy” cells during the chemotherapy.

Chemotherapy’s “job” is to kill any cell in your body that is splitting while you are getting the treatment. So stopping “healthy” cells from splitting is a great idea. The reason that folks lose their hair (by the way, cold caps don’t work, don’t waste your money), get mouth sores, get neuropathy, etc. is because hair/nerve/mouth/stomach cells split often – so if you’re getting chemotherapy when one is splitting, you’ll kill it. Fasting convinces your “healthy” cells that it’s winter – when they should not be splitting so much. But cancer is stupid. (Bwa-ha-ha-ha DIE M***** F*****!!)

Cancer eats sugar and insulin acts as a “power up,” turning it into the Incredible Hulk. (Yes, this is overbroad, but this post can’t be 92 pages). Since this is the case, during chemotherapy in particular, one needs to keep carbohydrates to a minimum. The focus of Broffman’s supplementation involved supplements during the chemotherapy to help with the poisoning, then ones after the chemotherapy to help get the toxins and dead cells out of the body while staying in ketosis, and then ones to “rebuild” before the next chemotherapy cycle.

This involved a very elaborate calendar for me, the Caregiver, containing which supplements to give at what times. It also involved foods that would help. (Osso Good’s AIP-compliant bone broth, with the Chinese herbs already incorporated, was recommended and super helpful.)

The sad thing is that chemotherapy units – now made as comfortable as possible with personal TVs, lounge chairs, acupuncture and social workers – are awash in crappy, high carb food. Everything from “nutrition bars” to ice cream to the beloved Saltine cracker for nausea. The nurses were horrified when my husband would tell them not only that he was fasting, but also that he was coming into chemo on a fast. Everyone else is munching away on ice cream, pizza, cookies, Saltines, or whatever else made them feel better about being hooked up to a gigantic bag of poison for hours and hours. And every munch feeds their cancer.

We had provided the medical articles to our oncologist with respect to the fasting, so he had written in our file that we shouldn’t be “forced to” eat. Broffman had looked our oncologist up in his notes, and explained to us that – while he resembles “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Oncologist” with his spiky hair and vocal fry – the only way to get this particular doctor to agree that we could do what we wanted to do was to provide him with Western Medicine articles that showed that while a protocol (like fasting) might be difficult to do, it actually works. Most articles, in fact, stated that the fasting protocol worked better than anything else that was in trial; however, folks just didn’t stick to it. “Give me that Rocky Road Ice Cream, Ma, I have cancer, I’m on chemo, and feel like trash! And hand me a Saltine while you’re at it.”

I have, quite literally, a novel that I wrote after we saw Broffman, as well as the articles he recommended. If you’re interested in it, let me know in the comments. It talks through the entire Pine Street Clinic visit, and goes into great detail about the Phase I, II, III protocol during chemotherapy. We also re-visited Broffman a month or so ago, and I have another 10 pages of notes from him regarding where we are now.

My husband’s surgeon told him that there was basically “no way” that his bladder could be rebuilt after the surgery, but we did everything that was recommended by Broffman to get the best possible result, and the urologist’s assistant called me during the surgery to tell me that they were, indeed, able to build him an internal bladder. The whole surgery story and me terrorizing the poor intake nurse is for another day.

My husband was cancer-free for six months, then a tumor showed up in each lung. One was in the middle of the inferior lobe on his right side (three lobes on the right side, two on the left). The one in the left lung was (cue Louisiana-accented thoracic surgeon) “Snuggled r’aht up next to his ay-OR-ta” – so – impossible to operate. While the tumor in the right lung could be cut out either by cutting a “wedge” out of his lung or taking the whole lobe, the left tumor couldn’t be dealt with at all.

I asked the surgeon what he’d do and he laughed, saying: “Well, you go to a barber, he’s not gunna tell you not to get your hair cut,” but then we talked through what would happen if we did the “cyberknife” treatment that he was recommending on the left side to the tumor on the right. He said that the only issue would be the inability to biopsy the tumor . . . but in doing the surgery, my hubby would be left with 2/3 of his right lung. We opted to go find out about what “cyberknife” treatment was all about.

After discussion with the Chief of our various options (my new girl crush…), we decided to do SRS (stereotactic radiosurgery) on both tumors. As she reiterated, the downside of not being able to do a biopsy is the inability to see if this is the bladder cancer moving into the lungs, or if it is a “new” cancer (lung cancer), because the SRS obliterates the tumors. SRS is really quite amazing technology – I have a bunch of notes on that, too.

Lung cancer is a tough cancer – I had a friend die of it who had never smoked a day in her life, never lived around smoke, etc. When you tell someone that you have lung cancer, they look down their nose at you as if to say “Well, if you hadn’t smoked 12 packs of cigarettes a day for 10 years, you wouldn’t be in this position.” Just because >75% of lung cancers are in smokers doesn’t mean that it’s 100%. That said, we wouldn’t know whether the cancer was now lung cancer or was just migrating bladder cancer, as we would be blasting the tumors to smitherines.

A friend of mine’s family is tied to Sanoviv; that is how it was originally recommended. I had tried to get my hubby to agree to go to do their cancer-related protocol after his bladder cancer surgery. He had felt that the tests showed him to be ‘cancer free,’ so why spend all that money? As soon as the cancer was back, he agreed to go once the SRS treatment was completed.

We will be at Sanoviv, doing their Cancer Program, from mid-June to mid-July. The program is full-immersion and quite pricey, but we checked out two other integrative cancer treatment hospitals (one in Europe, one in Israel) and in actual fact, this program not only involves less travel but winds up being less expensive than the others we researched. I’ll be going too – a caregiver gets to go for $100/day, which includes all non-treatment related offerings (e.g., meals, the pools, room, etc.). HERE is their general description of what to bring/not bring/etc.

Every day apparently starts with meditation on the cliffside overlooking the ocean, then “grounding” on their chemical-free lawn in your bare feet, and yoga. You are given your schedule the night before at dinner and walked through it with your doctor, so you know what’s expected. While hubby is at treatment, I am expected to go to workshops on subjects such as functional nutrition, supplementation, how to transition from Sanoviv, and the like. The treatments are not only physical but also mental – you can see some of that if you poke around the Internet and the Sanoviv Programs.

As I understand it, we will be in two different bedrooms with the same “sitting room,” because the program involves detoxing. That means no wife in ze bed! 🙂 This also means that you show up with underwear, a bathing suit, and a sun hat – everything else is provided to you. Yes – shampoo, conditioner, soap, toothpaste, clothing, shoes (Birkenstocks), socks, etc. Really! No makeup, no nail polish (just took mine off in fact), only one of a couple of sunblocks (they sell it, or you can bring it), no plastic or plastic bottles, even if BPA-free, and – yes – no electronics.

Your “sitting room” has a balcony overlooking the ocean, a mini-trampoline, infrared sauna, chi machine, and wall racks to do stretching. You’re expected to do at least 15 minutes of “rebounding” on the mini-tramp daily, plus use the infrared sauna and the chi machine. The TV in the room only has two channels – I believe it’s Discovery Channel and National Geographic Channel – because they want you to detox from that, as well.

There is a separate room at the facility where you can use your/their computer, but it is the only place on “campus” where wifi is allowed, as it’s considered something that you need to “detox” from. This will be interesting for me, because I will need to work when hubby doesn’t need me. As I was writing up this blog, I actually emailed our Admissions guy to ask about this, and he said that if your computer has “an Ethernet port,” that you can connect in your room. Of course, most newer laptops have USB 3.0 ports /HDMI ports, but no Ethernet port. While hubby was researching getting an adapter so that I can at least do some work (and particularly teleconferences, of which I know I have to attend at least one) outside the “computer room” I happened to mention it to a client – the next day, an Amazon package showed up, with 2 adapters, and a long and a short Ethernet cable! I had to laugh at that!

I have been reading a number of write-ups on Sanoviv, though the ones that I can find are all written by folks who went for a one-week “cleanse”/detox-type protocol. So that’s why I felt that I should try to blog about what happens during the cancer program. HERE is an example, that shows you “what you get” at Sanoviv – HERE is another. HERE is a third.

That said, there isn’t one write-up about their fitness center! They have “Zumba” classes and “salsa” – but nothing “Strength-ish.” I was told by the Admissions person that there are “a few ellipticals and some dumbbells, but not heavy.” Since I have been working really hard on strength and HIIT training, my gym owner (bless him) crafted a workout for me for the time I will be gone. I will be bringing a TRX, some resistance bands, and an EmPack and 3 reservoirs. So we’ll see how that goes, too!

The Sanoviv diet is basically plant-centric, with no caffeine, dairy, soy, sugar, toxins, alcohol, corn, gluten, etc. They have a garden and a lot of what you eat is grown there. They also have organic/raised chickens and eggs, plus fish at some meals. (I’m allergic to fish, but that was noted in my intake.)

This will be a big difference for us – and we’re drinking all the wine we can before we go (ha ha – um, kinda joking). We eat very clean and pretty “primal” – organic veg/fruit, grass-fed meat – no soy, corn, sugars, gluten, etc. – but we know that our portion control is lax. We do our best to eat in a 12 hour window, though Broffman had told us it would be better to winnow it down to 10 (and that’s Sanoviv’s system). We also have meat every dinner – I’m looking forward to learning some new recipes (and have been boning up on them also through the Thug Kitchen cookbooks!)

I mentioned to Admissions that, because of my migraines (written about before), I have 2 cups of coffee a day. They are vasodialator migraines – caffeine helps. He said I would need a prescription and to take it as a pill. So I talked to my doctor, and she told me what to buy, which I did. Any meds that you take have to come in their bottles (not in a weekly/daily pill container), and you’re not to bring any non-prescribed supplements.

(Speaking of supplements and nutrition, I am binge listening to The Funk’tional Nutrition Podcast, because a client of mine was on it. They’re GREAT! If you’re a ‘Nutrition Nerd’ like I am, they really know their stuff.)

So that’s about all I have to say in this “introduction” to what we’ll be doing from mid-June to mid-July.

Work has been insane recently which is great for my wallet but tough for getting prepared to go. That said . . . I mean, how prepared can you get when you are just packing undies and a hat? 🙂

What are my expectations? I expect that hubby will be pretty sick the first week (we were told as much). I expect that we will both likely lose some weight since we will be portion-controlled and won’t have, oh, say, cheese. 🙂 I have set a goal to do the workout that my trainer has given me each day, whatever that takes. I plan to take notes and then blog each day or at least every other, and write up what’s going on so that there is a comprehensive log of it all. I plan to check work email a couple times a day, if the building that has the “computer room” isn’t too far away and the wifi is working (apparently somewhat dicey).

If you’ve gotten this far, bless you! You are either a devoted F&F, or perhaps a previous blog subscriber who didn’t unsubscribe when I went “radio silent” for about a year. (Now you know what I’ve been, sadly, up to. Caregiving takes every free moment, that’s for sure.)

I’ll be reading all the Comments when I get on the computer at Sanoviv. So if you have any questions, etc. let me know – or if you just want to say Hi! As per the whole “no electronics” thing, I’m bringing a couple books (yes, paper), but don’t plan to access Instagram, Facebook, or even personal email while gone. We’ll see how THAT goes! So if you’re in that “F&F” category, keep me company by commenting.

Onward!

Green Living Guide

Hey all!

I received a note from Kendra at (of all things) CouponChef.com related to one of my podcasts – from 10 years ago! (Yes, everything on the Internet really does live forever!) I liked what she sent, and I think you might too. (If you haven’t checked out this podcast, just know that the Listener Call-In Line is no more – what can I say, it’s been a decade . . . ) That said, here’s her email:

Hi there, I listened to your podcast about living more ‘Green’ – thanks!

I’ve been looking for some resources about green living online. I’m glad your website has content that could be useful to people looking to reduce their impact on the environment. We at Coupon Chief recently created a massive guide about inexpensive ways to go green. It includes up-to-date information and special tips to help people adopt a more Earth-friendly lifestyle without draining their wallets. We’re hoping it’s worth linking to along with your other resources!

If you think that it could be valuable to your readers, here’s the link to our Green Living guide. It took us a lot of time and effort to put this together, so I hope you (and your Bond Grrl readers!) like it!

Best,
Kendra

I am not quite sure how CouponChef.com decided to write such a detailed guide, but I think that it has a lot of good reminders and some very good information. Maybe I’m just impressed that someone found a podcast of mine from a decade ago, listened to it, and decided to write because of it!

Make it a great day,

Sandy

Career Success through the Management of Stress – by Julie Morris

Business owners and workaholics often live in a world with quick turnarounds and tight deadlines. Operating in an entrepreneurial environment leads to high-pressure situations that can easily fray the nerves, especially when you’re trying to find the right balance between work and the responsibilities of life outside the office. Perhaps you are starting a new business and trying to score a big promotion, or perhaps you’re a single parent trying to make ends meet. Whatever the cause of your career stress, there are ways to achieve new goals while reducing that stress.

Sweating Stress Away

Stress is an inevitable part of our everyday lives. While it is impossible to entirely eliminate stress, maintaining or improving your physical condition can be helpful to your mental state. Not only can it elevate your concentration and overall cognitive functions, but it can also reduce tiredness and fatigue. In addition, exercise provides an outlet for either solitude (when you’re craving alone-time) or the ability to “sweatwork” and meet people who might be able to help you in your career pursuits.

Eating Right

For those burning the midnight oil, it might be difficult to find time to stop for a bite with deadlines quickly approaching. Diets are usually the first thing we sacrifice to help us stay on the go. However, what you eat and drink can have a profound impact on the way you feel, especially when you’re unable to break for meals. Fast food and junk food might provide a boost of energy and comfort in the moment, but what they lack in nutritional value can ultimately leave you feeling sluggish and morose. Small changes to your dietary intake can help you start feeling better while allowing you to implement better nutritional habits with your family at home.

Getting Enough Sleep

A good night’s rest is important for your physical and emotional health. Insufficient sleep can leave you feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, which doesn’t bode well for work performance or stress. In fact, not getting enough sleep has an adverse effect on your ability to quickly and decisively manage tasks and perform at work. If you’re constantly on call, you might want to consider turning off your phone and other devices before bed or leaving them in a separate room. Even an additional hour of sleep at night can have positive effects on your efficiency during working hours.

Going Alternative

If finding time to sleep or exercise proves to be too much of a challenge, a remedy such as CBD oil can help reduce stress. CBD has been shown to host a slew of benefits, from sleep improvements to anxiety relief to pain management. Do your due diligence by researching manufacturers and finding the best quality product, and since oil is not for everyone, CBD does come in other forms, like vape oil. As with any new treatment, be it CBD or something else, be sure to discuss it with your doctor first.

Self-Caring

The thought of taking time out of your busy schedule for a little self-indulgence might be a foreign idea, but it’s something every busy person should embrace. By carving out a little bit of time to pamper yourself, you’ll feel fresh and recharged. Work can slowly cause changes to your identity, so remember to spend time outside the office to enjoy fun activities with the people you treasure.

Whether you are a lady-boss entrepreneur or a busy professional, it’s important to set realistic expectations while cutting yourself a little slack. Your career could even slow down when you’re moving too fast. In order to grow professionally, you might have to step back a little. First, cope with the stress. Second, set yourself up to achieve your professional goals without sacrificing your health. You’ll hopefully be able to find the balance between your work goals and your mental health, a balance that will help you move full speed ahead onto the next phase in your career.

Photo Credit: Pexels

Julie Morris is a Life and Career Coach, and can be found at JulieMorris.Org.

best beef jerky ever!

2018 UPDATE! Use London Broil steak, cut against the grain (e.g., cut parallel to the short end, not the long end). It is WAY less expensive than skirt steak, and works just as well if not better.

Recipe:

1 gallon Ziplock bag
a cookie sheet (must have a lip) or two
a cookie cooling rack or two
aluminum foil (to wrap around the cookie sheet)

For every 1 to 1 1/2 pound meat you need:
1/4 cup tamari (gluten-free and organic is only pennies more . . . hint hint!)
Juice of 1 lemon
Juice of 1 lime
1/2 teaspoon onion powder (or onion salt, in which case use garlic powder)
1/2 teaspoon garlic salt (see above – if you want to substitute garlic powder, use onion salt – or if you use powder both times, double the salt added below)
1/4 teaspoon black pepper (or less if you don’t want it spicy)
1/8 teaspoon sea salt or Himalayan pink salt
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (or less if you don’t like it spicy)
1/4 teaspoon red sumac (a Lebanese spice I use in everything – this is totally optional but if you find it and use it, you’ll be stuck on it too 😉 ).

Start with Skirt Steak.

1-1.5 pound packets of skirt steak
1-1.5 pound packets of skirt steak

Our local market sells packets of skirt steak in 1-1.5 pound vacuum-sealed packages. These are fantastic, because you can buy a bunch of them at once and freeze them if you’re not going to use them – then when you want some steak, you can take them out of the freezer and throw them right into the sous vide, bringing them up to about 90 degrees “and holding” when you’re at work. (If you don’t have a sous vide, you might want to read my blog HERE.) When you get home, heat up a cast iron skillet super hot, scorch them on each side for a minute or so, voila, done.

But today, these are for jerky.

The photo shows four 1.5ish pound packets. With this recipe, you can double or triple or quadruple or ??? the recipe without any issues. The smallest of the packages in the photograph is just over a pound – the largest is 1.5 pounds. So I’m quadrupling today. Because my butcher’s packages are always about 1 to 1-1/2 pounds, I always figure one package = one “set” of the marinade ingredients listed above.

If you don’t have a market that has these packs, but you do  have a market where you can talk to the butcher, just bring him the photo from the blog and say you’d like one of these, please. 😉 It’s not expensive meat – some butchers cut it up to make fajita meat, but it starts like this.

The recipe by and large comes from Haylie Pomroy’s book The Fast Metabolism Diet, which has some great recipes. This one is particularly good.

I started down the Fast Metabolism Diet road last week, and though I haven’t lost any weight, my energy is really good, and I feel great. I blogged about what it entails HERE.

You can use any “meaty meat” – halibut, turkey, buffalo, etc. – but it works particularly well with beef.

My issue with jerky is that it always contains some form of sugar, and/or some sort of preservatives. I’m sure there are jerkies you can order without these, but they’re probably immensely pricey. This recipe is so easy, it’s ridiculous not to make your own.

Cut the steak into 3 strips (against the grain).

2015-05-04 16.00.20
skirt steak before cutting (about 3 feet long or so)

The photo at left is what a skirt steak looks like out of the package. I don’t have a “selfie stick” and even at the end of my condor arm I could barely get it all in the picture. It’s like 3 feet of meat.

If there is any obvious fat, trim it off – but this is a very very lean cut of meat.

The fat you see in this picture doesn’t count as “fat” by the way – that’s just “marbling.” You may, however, run into a bit of fat that run all the way through the meat – particularly at the “fat” end of the meat – that’s what you want to cut off. But to give you some idea, I did not have any in all 4 of the steaks that I cut up before writing this blog.

Get your kitchen shears, and cut the strip the “long way” (against the grain). Your steak will be meatier on one end and less so on the other. So that means you’ll have three strips on one end, and usually as you cut, you’ll wind up with only two strips on the other end.

this is the meaty end of the skirt steak - as you can see, I get 3 strips on this side.
this is the meaty end of the skirt steak – as you can see, I get 3 strips on this side.

I keep these in as long of strips as they go. (Yes, I’m juvenile enough to sort of make a game of it – like trying to peel an orange in one strip of rind.) Sometimes you hit a weak spot in the meat, so that “strip” breaks off – it’s not important. But if you’re using a full skirt steak, you want the width of the strips to be about 1/3 of the strip at the “fat end” or 1/2 of the strip at the “skinny” end. It’s not rocket science, just do your best 😉

marinade ingredients
marinade ingredients

 Mix up all the other ingredients into the Ziplock.

Take the ingredients from the above recipe (multiplied by however much meat you have), and put them into a Ziplock. Take it from me, if you use a Ziplock with the actual “zipper” it’s a LOT easier to turn it upside down and shake it than if you use one that you just “press” together. No need for the excitement of the entire marinade and meat concoction slipping out on the floor when you shake it ‘cos you didn’t quite get the tracks of the bag to match….

A gallon Ziplock will take up to four times the recipe above, if you’re wondering. If you’re doing more than four times the recipe, I would use a couple of Ziplocks, but you only need one up to a quadruple recipe.

Again – the thing I really like about this recipe is that there is nothing sweet in it. Honey, sugar, whatever. And it’s delish. Trust me here.

Shake the marinade to mix it together.

2015-05-04 16.13.34Plop all the meat into the Ziplock.

Once you have all the strips in there with the marinade, seal the Ziplock almost all the way. Then squeeze down on it so that you get all the air out of the top little opening you’ve left.

Then seal it tight.

meat in marinade, all air squeezed out.
meat in marinade, all air squeezed out.

Now turn the Ziplock over and over to be sure the marinade gets to all the meat (like I said, this is the exciting part if you aren’t completely sure about your Ziplock zipper…)

Put the Ziplock into the refrigerator overnight (at least 8 hours, but better if it’s overnight).

Whenever you open the refrigerator between then and cooking time, give the Ziplock a few little tosses to move the marinade around on the meat. It will settle on the bottom side, so you want to be sure you let all the pieces get evenly marinaded.

After 8+ hours, drain & discard the marinade.

Squeeze the meat (while still in the Ziplock) to get it pretty dry. The easiest way to do this is to get the bulk of the marinade out first, and then zip the zipper back up most of the way, and squeeze the marinade out the “spout” by rolling it up from the bottom. This is similar to what you did when you were letting the air out to seal it, before putting it in the fridge.

You don’t want to pat the marinade off, but you do want to squeeze out as much of the liquid as you can, because you’re going to be dehydrating that meat, and more liquid = more time.

Take your cookie sheets and wrap them in aluminum foil.

You’ll need about two sheets and two cookie “cooling racks” for about each 3 pounds of meat, give or take.

Because the marinade and fat from the jerky is going to drip onto the aluminum foil, you may want to spray a little coconut oil in between the cookie sheet and the foil. I’m not sure if you have ever had this happen, but sometimes the foil “adheres to” the cookie sheet. So you might want to put a Pam-esque buffer. Personally, I use what are called “baker’s sheets” over my cookie sheets. They are PFOA-free silicone, non-stick, re-usable, and work like a charm. But as most folks don’t have these or do as much in-oven baking/roasting as I do, I am using aluminum foil in this recipe.

Put the cookie cooling racks on top of the aluminum foil, with their “feet” folded in.

If your sheets and racks are the same size as my sheets and racks, the racks will fit inside the lip of the sheet with a pretty good amount of room to spare. That will come up in a second.

If you’re only doing 1x of the recipe (silly you, you’re going to eat all that jerky before anyone gets home . . .  🙂 ) then you can likely use one sheet, or use two and leave more room between the pieces.

one rack, set up - about 2 to 2-1/2 lbs.
one rack, set up – about 2 to 2-1/2 lbs.

Put the meat on the racks, cutting it to size as you go. It can be close together, but shouldn’t overlap.

Although the recipe I used stated that you have to have the meat strips 1/4″ apart, they shrink up a LOT. So, I snuggled them up close, and as I checked the jerky, I was able to move them farther apart as they shrank. If you leave the strips long, be sure to tuck the ends down into the pan, so that they drip into the pan (not onto the bottom of the oven). That said – I’d still put down aluminum foil in the oven anyway, just in case. 😉

Remember I mentioned the space between the rack and the sheet? I personally actually laid a couple strips along the “long side” of the sheet (between the sheet and the rack) and then another along the “short side.” The jerky drips a LOT as it’s dehydrating, but that basically means that about 1/2 way through, you’ll be able to move those strips up to the rack and out of the drippings.

As you can probably tell, I’m not too fussy of a cook 😉 I just wanted to be sure that you knew that everything came out just fine when I did things this way. I wasn’t interested in doing two batches, because that’s a lot of time. So I made it work. Also, to give you an idea, I’m doing 4x the recipe this time around (I did 3x last time), and I’m still going to use the same setup. They really do shrink up a lot as they cook.

Bake the strips uncovered at 200 degrees for about 3 hours.

At three hours, you want your oven timer to go off so you can check on them. If you have two pans of strips, this is the time to swap the bottom pan for the top pan. It’s also time to re-arrange the strips as you may need. You can taste one, but they’re not going to be close.

4x the recipe in the oven, so about 4 to 5 pounds of meat.
4x the recipe in the oven, so about 4 to 5 pounds of meat.

If you have some other situation – more strips down the sides/off the rack or some such, you’re going to need to get them up on the rack as soon as you can. So you might be checking more than just once at 3 hours and once when “nearly done.” But this is what I did. At 3 hours they had shrunk in enough for me to get all the strips that were off the rack onto the rack, plus I was able to re-arrange them to allow a bit more room between all the strips.

Bake the strips for about another 3 hours.

I say “about” because I have a convection oven, and mine were done at 6 hours total. If you don’t have a convection oven, I think it’s going to be more like 7 hours. Leave the temperature the same, don’t cover them . . . just do what you just did, and come back 3 hours later and check on them.

You’ll know they are done when the meat is dry and leathery. And you can’t stop eating it.

Remove from the oven and cool completely before refrigerating or freezing in an airtight container. (I just took the cookie cooling racks off the pans and set them aside until the jerky was cold.)

If, that is, you can make it that far, and don’t eat them all as you’re waiting for them to cool. 😉 .

On this Haylie Pomroy eating plan, the first two days are basically fruit/veg/grains/some protein, then the next two are strictly veg/protein (with protein as the snacks – enter the jerky), then the last three days are a lot more relaxed with fruit/veg/protein/grains.

I made the jerky on the first of the middle two days, and actually weighed out how much 3 ounces was, to be sure I got the snack portion right. Yeah . . . then I weighed out 6 ounces, to get the lunch portion right . . . and another 3 ounces for the next snack . . .

2015-05-04 17.42.53
leftovers from last week. NomNomNom 😉 I think I have to have one…And YES, this is all that’s left of 3x the recipe 🙂

It’s very addictive, and so easy to make!

By the way, the aluminum foil is going to be coated with a thick mixture of hardened on marinade, fat, etc. While the jerky is cooling, get that off the cookie sheet and throw it away. (As I use baker’s sheets, I just hit them with super hot water and this slides right off, then I pat the sheet dry, and hang it to use for the next roasting/baking extravaganza 😉 ) If you have a dog or animal that might go through your trash, I recommend crumpling it up into a ball and zipping it into the Ziplock that you marinated the meat in. It’s harder to smell that way 😉

Any questions…?

And..speaking of recipes…tonight is roasted chicken night – if you didn’t catch it last time, HERE is the recipe for the easiest and best roast chicken in the Universe 😉

Day 20: Skeleton Coast — 210,000 Seals, Sorghum Lunch, and the Long Road Back

Today we drove north along Namibia’s Skeleton Coast, a stretch of shoreline famous for fog, shipwrecks, and one of the most overwhelming wildlife spectacles on earth.

The drive itself is long and starkly beautiful — the Atlantic on one side, the desert on the other, and almost nothing in between.

Our destination was Cape Cross, home to the largest Cape fur seal colony in the world.

But first, a bit of history.

The name Cape Cross dates back to the Portuguese explorer Diogo Cão, who landed along this coast in the late 15th century and erected a stone cross (padrão) to mark Portuguese exploration. That cross gave the place its name — and the original now sits in a museum in Germany, though replicas stand at the site today.

History is never simple here.Cape Cross: 210,000 Seals

Cape Cross hosts about 210,000 Cape fur seals.

When we first stepped out of the vehicle, we heard what sounded like…

cows.

Then goats.

Then something in between.

Only after a moment did it click that every single sound was coming from seals.

The colony stretches as far as you can see — rocks, beach, and dunes covered in a moving carpet of fur.

And then…

the smell hit.

There is no delicate way to describe it.

Imagine:

  • hot fish
  • fermented seaweed
  • wet dog
  • and approximately 210,000 digestive systems working simultaneously

All gently baking in the Namibian sun.

Your brain goes through phases:

First 30 seconds:

OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT SMELL

Three minutes:

Okay… I can survive this.

Ten minutes:

Look at the BABIES.

And the babies are fantastic.

Huge dark eyes. Soft silver fur. Awkward scoot-flopping movement.

The colony is deafening — mothers calling to pups, bulls barking, waves crashing, wind blowing across thousands of flippers slapping sand.

It’s like standing inside a living ecosystem engine.

Male seals live 25–30 years.

Females can live up to 40.

And somehow all 210,000 of them seem to be having a conversation at once.

The Walkway Incident

The viewing area at Cape Cross includes an elevated wooden walkway that runs along the edge of the colony.

Before we went out, Abraham gave us one very important instruction:

If a seal climbs onto the walkway, back away slowly and do not confront it.

Noted.

At one point Brigitte and I were standing on the walkway, completely transfixed — open-mouthed — staring out at the thousands upon thousands of seals covering the beach.

Suddenly a seal bellowed loudly right behind us.

We grabbed each other in absolute panic, convinced that a massive bull seal had somehow gotten onto the walkway behind us.

Nope.

The seal had simply scootched underneath the walkway and decided to make his presence known.

From below.

I’m fairly certain he was laughing.

The Funny Part

The truly funny part is what happens when you leave.

After about ten minutes away from the colony, the entire Namibian coastline suddenly smells fresh and wonderful.

Perspective is everything.

A Detour for Lichen

On the drive back from the seals, Abraham pulled off the road to show us something that at first glance looked like… nothing at all.

Just pale patches on the desert gravel.

But when we stepped closer, the ground was covered with lichen, some of it decades — even centuries — old. These delicate organisms survive in one of the driest environments on earth by absorbing moisture directly from the coastal fog that drifts inland from the Atlantic. Abraham poured some water on a patch – which transformed.

They look fragile because they are.

A single footprint can destroy growth that took many decades to form. For that reason visitors are asked to stay on specific paths and tread very carefully.

It was one of those quiet reminders that in a desert landscape that appears empty, life is actually working very hard just to exist.

Lunch, Namibian Style

After the long drive back south, Abraham took us to a small local restaurant he knew for lunch.

Here we were introduced to a very traditional Namibian way of eating.

The centerpiece was sorghum paste, which you pinch off with your fingers and use as a scoop for the food on your plate.

Our dishes included:

  • black-eyed pea mash
  • spinach (which Abraham cheerfully admitted were essentially local weeds)
  • chicken pieces
  • beef stew

The spinach came with a bit of sand still in it, which only added to the authenticity.

After we ate, a local a cappella group came in and serenaded us.

One of the songs was “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” which felt particularly appropriate given where we are. I sent a Marco Polo video to a few friends, because sometimes travel hands you moments that are too delightful not to share.

The Township

After lunch Abraham offered to take the group through the DNC township outside Swakopmund.

Townships in southern Africa developed during apartheid-era spatial policies and still house the majority of working-class residents. The one we passed through consisted largely of corrugated metal and cardboard structures, one pressed against the next in dense rows.

Cardboard house upon cardboard house upon cardboard house.

Everyone but the wealthy lives there.

Some members of the group chose to walk through the area with Abraham and speak with residents.

Lynn and I opted to sit that portion out.

Travel sometimes offers windows into other people’s lives that are important to see — but also difficult to process in the moment.

Back to the Hansa

We returned to the Hansa Hotel late in the afternoon.

Dinner was scheduled for the group, but I quietly opted out.

Instead I ordered room service, including a Namibian classic dessert cocktail called a Dom Pedro — ice cream blended with Amarula, the cream liqueur made from the marula fruit.

Research purposes, obviously.

How I can get a bottle of this back home for Sharon to try (when I have a connection in Frankfurt, so can’t pick up the bottle in Namibian Duty Free) is going to be my next big life goal.

Of course, my current goal was finally to get the blog caught up, which after several very full days had fallen a bit behind.

Of course that still leaves processing today’s photos…

including approximately 210,000 seals.

Stay Tuned.

Tomorrow, we leave for Sossusvlei (which I keep humming to Phil Collins’ “Sussudio”)..about a six hour drive. Without traffic. Inflatable seat cushion, comin’ out.

Day 19: Namibia — Walvis Bay, Swakopmund, and the Dunes of Sandwich Harbour

Photos and Slideshow to come! Gotta get the words down first!!

We said goodbye to Cape Town and flew north to Namibia, landing in Walvis Bay — a place where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Namib Desert in a way that feels almost improbable.

From the air, the landscape looked like someone had taken a giant paintbrush and swept endless shades of tan and rust across the earth. No trees. No green. Just dunes, ocean, and sky.

At the airport we were met by Abraham, our Namibian guide, who would be taking care of us during this portion of the trip. On the drive he filled us in on life in Namibia — marriage customs, education, unemployment (currently around 36%), and the realities of healthcare in a country where the population is small but the distances are enormous.

Namibia feels vast.

Swakopmund

We are staying in Swakopmund, which is one of the more unexpected places I’ve ever seen.

Imagine a tidy German seaside town, complete with colonial-era buildings, bakeries, and neat streets — except it’s wedged between the Atlantic Ocean and the Namib Desert.

Palm trees line the streets, the ocean fog rolls in from the coast, and just a few miles inland the dunes begin.

It feels a little bit like someone picked up a town from northern Germany and dropped it into the desert. (“Swakopmund” means the mouth (“mund” in German) of the Swakop River.)

Sandwich Harbour: Where the Dunes Meet the Sea

The next morning we set out for Sandwich Harbour, which sits inside the Namib-Naukluft National Park and is one of the few places on earth where giant desert dunes crash directly into the ocean.

Getting there involves serious dune driving — the kind where the vehicle climbs steep slopes of sand and then slides down the other side in long sweeping arcs. Our driver navigated the dunes like a rally racer while the Atlantic surf pounded below.

Along the way we saw jackals, springbok, and an oryx family. One had two young companions — one looking about a year old and another that might have been only days or weeks old. I tried to photograph the tiny one with my telephoto lens, but it stubbornly refused to turn toward us.

Wildlife photography is often an exercise in patience.

Flamingos, Pelicans, and the Color of Shrimp

The lagoons near Walvis Bay are famous for their birds.

We saw flamingos, but many of them were white rather than pink. Our guide explained that flamingos turn pink from eating shrimp and algae rich in carotenoids. Juveniles remain pale until they’ve eaten enough of the good stuff. (He kept saying it was due it the “creatine” – I kept thinking of the consternation of pink bodybuilders, until I actually looked it up.)

Apparently flamingos need about a year of shrimp consumption before they fully commit to pink.

We also saw large white pelicans, which develop a faint pink blush on their chests too.

Nature, it seems, enjoys color coordination.

Lunch by a Shipwreck

Eventually we stopped near the rusted skeleton of a grounded ship: the Shawnee, a tug that ran aground here in 1967.

The story goes that the Shawnee had successfully rescued a distressed oil tanker from a sandbar — only to have its own engines fail after ingesting too much sand during the operation.

A noble but unfortunate ending.

Right beside this wreck — because Namibia is apparently comfortable with dramatic picnic locations — the guides set up a full lunch for us: champagne, oysters, schnitzel, and assorted other delights, all served with the Atlantic wind blowing across the dunes.

Travel has its moments.

Diamonds in the Sand

One of the most surprising things about the Namib Desert is what’s actually in the sand.

At several stops our guide showed us patches of black sand. When he ran a magnet through it, the particles jumped up and clung to the metal.

It was magnetite.

Then he poured some of it into my hand and moved the magnet underneath, causing the grains to swirl and dance across my palm like iron filings in a science experiment.

Elsewhere we noticed the sand sparkling in the sunlight.

Those glittering flecks?

Mica.

And the tiny reddish grains scattered through the sand?

Garnets.

Actual garnets.

Not the sort you’d set into a ring, but still — gemstones casually mixed into the desert.

Namibia does not lack for geological drama.

The Mystery of the Mussel Shells

In several places we saw strange white piles scattered across the dunes — far from the ocean.

Prehistoric shell beds?

No.

Our guide explained that gulls carry mussels inland, dropping them on the hot sand until the shells open from the heat. The gulls then return for an easy meal.

Nature’s version of cooking.

Nara Melon

Another plant that survives here is the nara melon, a strange desert fruit that grows on sprawling thorny bushes.

It’s an important traditional food source in the Namib Desert — both the fruit and the seeds are edible.

I somehow managed to forget to photograph it, which I regret because it looked like something that might have evolved on another planet.

Salt Pans

Driving back toward Walvis Bay we passed massive salt works — huge pink evaporation ponds stretching toward the horizon.

The salt harvested here is shipped raw to South Africa for processing, sometimes eventually appearing in markets as pink “Himalaya” salt. (If you want actual “Namibia salt,” there must be either a lighthouse or an ibex on the label.)

Production here runs around 35,000 tons per month.

Which is… a lot of margaritas.

Tomorrow we head north along the Skeleton Coast.

And encounter one of the loudest, smelliest wildlife spectacles on earth.

Day 18: Blue Buses, Constantia Wine, and Saying Goodbye to the Cape

Photo and “Slideshow” to come! Just gotta get the writing done!

After several days of early departures and tightly scheduled adventures — Table Mountain, penguins, Cape storms, and our rather thoughtful “difficult discussion” about poaching — the final full day in Cape Town began with a gift:

We didn’t have to meet until 9:30 a.m.

Huzzah.

A small gang of us — Barbara, Ari, Ilana, Mary, Fran, Mike, and I — walked down toward the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront. I had a mission before anything else: the UV filter on one of my camera lenses had cracked when we were in Kruger. Abe had promised to help me find a replacement in Stellenbosch and then again in Cape Town, but that never materialized; suddenly, it was the weekend, and everything was closed.

After a bit of frantic Googling, I discovered that a small camera shop on the waterfront was actually open on Sunday.

Success.

Not only did they have the correct filter — they had exactly one left in the size I needed. I bought it immediately, along with a spare for the other lens “for good luck,” and donated the cracked one to what the shop owner cheerfully called their “oops wall.”

Camera crisis averted.

Lunch at the Waterfront

Before boarding the bus, we stopped for lunch at TimeOut Market, which has rapidly become one of our group’s default feeding stations.

Mary and I noticed a plate being set down at the Greek stall — Opa! — and immediately asked what it was.

We ordered it on the spot.

Mary declared it better than Greece, which is a bold statement. I haven’t been to Greece so can’t give it that sort of review, but it was certainly excellent — especially for something that technically counts as “fast food.”

The Hop-On Hop-Off Bus

From there we boarded Cape Town’s famous hop-on hop-off “Blue Bus.” The full loop takes about 2½ hours and winds through much of the city and surrounding hills.

My companions very kindly informed me that they would be “relying on me for my great photos,” which was both flattering and mildly stressful considering the bus was in constant motion.

Cape Town from above has a striking geography — neighborhoods climbing the slopes, the ocean constantly appearing and disappearing between buildings, and Table Mountain looming behind everything like a massive stone guardian.

One photo I took was of District Six (discussed before, where an entire neighborhood was displaced)… I hadn’t quite realized that after they bulldozed all these family homes and relocated family upon family, NOTHING had happened. It’s just fields. Scandalous.

A bit later, our Blue Bus ride glided along one of the most dramatic stretches along the Atlantic Seaboard, where the road threads past some of the most absurdly expensive real estate on the continent — beachfront homes that seem to climb directly up the mountain.

Towering above them are the Twelve Apostles, a series of jagged sandstone buttresses forming part of the Table Mountain range.

I took a lot of photos of them — partly because they’re beautiful, and partly because the name is mildly misleading.

There are not twelve.

Depending on how you count, there are somewhere between fifteen and eighteen distinct peaks. No one seems to agree on the exact number.

But “The Seventeen Apostles” probably didn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Abe had also told us the local legend explaining the “tablecloth” of fog that often spills over Table Mountain. According to the story, a Dutch pirate named Jan van Hunks once got into a smoking contest with the Devil himself on the slopes of nearby Devil’s Peak. They smoked their pipes so furiously that clouds of smoke poured over the mountain — which, according to legend, is what we now see whenever the fog rolls in.

It’s a very Cape Town explanation for meteorology.

Constantia Valley: The Oldest Wines in South Africa

When the bus loop ended, most of the group headed back toward the hotel. But Mike and I had unfinished business.

The previous day we had driven through Constantia Valley, the oldest wine-producing region in South Africa and one of the oldest in the Southern Hemisphere. Vineyards were first planted here in the late 1600s, and by the 18th century Constantia wines were famous throughout Europe.

Napoleon Bonaparte famously requested them during his exile on St. Helena.

So naturally Mike and I felt it was our duty to investigate.

We grabbed an Uber and headed up the valley.

The first winery was lovely — calm, historic, and exactly the kind of setting where you can imagine colonial governors pretending the Empire was running smoothly while sipping sweet wine (luckily, now they have lovely whites and reds in their tasting menu).

After finishing there we discovered that a small internal shuttle bus runs between several estates.

Unfortunately, by the time we boarded it had begun to rain, and the bus was absolutely packed with people heading to the next winery. When the bus got there, the driver stopped, to “wait out” the downpour.

I turned to Mike and said, “We have to beat these people.”

So we jumped off early and ran through the rain down the steep driveway to the next estate.

We arrived soaked — but secured the very last available table.

Victory.

A Sommelier Surprise

Even better: the sommelier who greeted us (“Walter”) turned out to have taken the Court of Master Sommeliers introductory course around the same time I had done mine during COVID (the period when they shipped tasting kits to your house and you learned the wines of the world over Zoom, from tiny bottles at your kitchen table).

Instant wine nerd bonding.

We talked about South African wine regions, the evolution of Constantia beyond its historic sweet wines, and how the whites here are becoming increasingly respected.

At one point he simply left the bottles on the table, trusting us to pour at will.

Note: I drink about half of whatever is poured for me. When I go wine tasting, generally, if the pour is “healthy,” I drink enough to get the nose, taste, etc., then point out to the person delivering the wine that I “will be pouring out the rest” into the “dump bucket” – making it clear that I really did mean that they should only pour me about ½.

Mike, on the other hand, approached the opportunity with admirable enthusiasm.

By the time we left, I was calling him the ‘Dump Bucket,’ and he was feeling quite cheerful.

The Pegasus “Blue Box” Debacle

Meanwhile, back in the world of logistics, we were dealing with a small saga involving something called Dr. Yezman’s “Blue Boxes.”

Back even before setting foot in Africa, I had received a promise from Abe that he or someone in his family could pick up The Blue Boxes for Dr. Yezman. She had ordered them from the office manager at Pegasus, but I had to pay in Rand. Abe kept being very “no worries” about it. However, as the weekend rolled in, I realized he really hadn’t done anything about it (though I had been stuffing his pockets with Rand all week). After lots of round-about calls, 3 a.m. What’s App texts to Dr. Y, the owner of Pegasus disavowing any knowledge (and even disavowing that he HAD an office manager), things were sorted. Abe’s daughter had gone to fetch them – everyone was a bit put out that it was the weekend but again, I had been assured “no worries” for weeks – and the package arrived for me to pack it to head to the plane.

Oh. My. Word. Big boxes. Small, 44 pound max checked bag. Lynn took some. I took some. I was not the most happy person ever. But we got the bags zipped and so so far, so good.

Farewell Dinner

That evening the group gathered for our farewell dinner at a restaurant along the Cape Town waterfront.

We had driven past this restaurant in the “Blue Bus”…a lovely setting— water, lights reflecting off the harbor, the hum of evening activity.

But the real headline was the steak.

It may genuinely have been one of the best steaks I’ve ever had.

After weeks of traveling together, the dinner had the slightly surreal feeling of a last day of summer camp — everyone exchanging contact information, promising future visits, and reflecting on the strange fact that people who were complete strangers a few weeks ago now feel like familiar characters in your daily life.

Tomorrow we leave South Africa and fly to Namibia.

A completely different landscape awaits.

Day 17: Table Mountain, Penguins, Poaching, and the Complicated Beauty of the Cape

We began the day at Table Mountain, because when in Cape Town, you go up the mountain. The cable car (technically a rotating gondola) carried us upward into blue sky… and then later, back down into pure whiteness as the fog rolled in like a curtain being drawn.

At the top, the landscape felt almost other-worldly — flat, windswept, dramatic. At moments it reminded me of Machu Picchu, but with ocean on three sides. We walked, took in the views, and I found a perfect place to leave an H marble (photos forthcoming). I also watched volunteers clipped into carabiners rappel down the sides of the cliffs to clean trash from the mountain face — a reminder that even in the most spectacular settings, humans leave fingerprints (and sometimes more). It was definitely chilly up there, and I was absurdly grateful to discover that the gift shop included a coffee concession — shades of Austria, where H always insisted that every mountaintop has an entrepreneurial soul ready to pour you a proper grosser brauner.

By the time we descended, the fog had swallowed the cable lines entirely. In one photo, the gondola wires vanish into nothing — though on the way up it had been a vertiginous drop, clear views for miles in every direction. From infinite horizon to pure white curtain in less than an hour.

Boulders Beach — The Penguins

From there (after lunch) we headed to Boulders Beach in Simon’s Town, home of the African penguins.

They are heartbreakingly adorable. They mate for life. Both parents share incubation and chick-rearing duties. Historically, they would lay two eggs. Now, because of food scarcity and environmental pressure, most successfully raise only one.

They are currently listed as critically endangered.

Part of the pressure is industrial fishing. Massive foreign trawlers — Taiwanese fleets were specifically mentioned — harvest sardines and anchovies in such volume that the penguins’ food chain is disrupted. Abe said he believes his grandson’s generation may be the last to see them in the wild.

That landed heavy.

The “Difficult Discussion”: Poaching for Survival vs. Poaching for Profit

One of OAT’s four “pillars” is a Difficult Discussion — an honest conversation about a controversial topic tied to the region. Ours was about poaching — specifically abalone and rock lobster in this area.

The speaker was from Abe’s village — Abe had actually been his Sunday school teacher decades ago. He explained how illegal abalone harvesting works: one diver goes out, but he needs lookouts, cleaners, runners. The economic benefit ripples outward. It’s not just one man feeding his family — it’s multiple families surviving off the same risk.

He argued that government investment in legal abalone farming could transform the community: jobs from security to processing to logistics, tax revenue, stability. Instead, foreign companies once ran large fish processing plants here, then abruptly pulled out, leaving behind huge decaying buildings and economic collapse. Abe’s mother had worked in one of those plants.

I told him about otters back home cracking small abalone on their chests, infuriating licensed divers. He laughed and said here it’s baboons. They wait for certain tides and moon conditions, swarm the exposed coastline, and strip it clean. “And you don’t argue with baboons,” he added. Fair.

It was one of the more nuanced discussions we’ve had — not romanticizing poaching, but not ignoring the economic realities either.

The Cape of Good Hope

When we rounded the bend toward the Cape, the wind came howling and the rain hit sideways. This is not a gentle landscape. The Cape of Good Hope marks the southwestern tip of Africa — not technically the continent’s southernmost point (that’s Cape Agulhas), but historically the psychological turning point for European sailors.

Sir Francis Drake once described it as “the fairest Cape we saw in the whole circumference of the earth.”

Many sailors might have disagreed in the moment. The Cape became infamous for shipwrecks — violent currents where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans collide, unpredictable weather, hidden reefs. It was once called the “Cape of Storms” before being rebranded “Cape of Good Hope” for marketing purposes (hope sells better than storms).

The word “Cape” refers to a promontory — land that juts into the sea — and here, the mountain range literally runs into the ocean.

Constantia Valley — Tomorrow’s Adventure

Driving back, we passed through Constantia Valley, the oldest wine-producing region in South Africa (and among the oldest in the Southern Hemisphere). In the 17th and 18th centuries it was famous for sweet wines — Napoleon Bonaparte famously requested Constantia wine during his exile on St. Helena. European royalty prized it.

Apparently today the whites in Constantia are helping broaden the wines to different palates — but that’s tomorrow’s investigation. Mike, Fran, and I are plotting a hop-on hop-off bus and ferry situation, then branching off into the valley ourselves before farewell dinner. If the weather cooperates. It looks a bit nasty . . . Raincoat and umbrella time.

Abe’s Story — Khoi, Afrikaans, and Identity

On the drive, Abe shared more about his own background.

He is of Khoi descent — historically labeled “Hottentot” by Dutch settlers, a term now considered derogatory. The Khoi lived along the Cape coast; the San (sometimes called “Bushmen”) were more inland. Abe’s heritage is mixed — Khoi and Germanic. Under apartheid, people of mixed heritage were categorized as “Coloured,” a bureaucratic label that carried severe legal consequences.

He explained how Afrikaans — often seen as “the language of apartheid” — is actually a polyglot language shaped by Dutch, Malay, Khoi, and other influences. Yet in school, until 1994, only “Standard” textbook Afrikaans was acceptable. The version spoken in his community — with borrowed words and local inflections — was reprimanded as improper.

He became an activist at 12 during the Soweto uprising. He didn’t speak English well then — studied it in school but didn’t use it. So he taught himself through television, determined to become a better activist.

He had wanted to be a doctor. Then a teacher. But as an activist under apartheid, employment doors were closed. Banks wouldn’t hire him. He went into theological studies instead. His family were civil servants — teachers, pastors, ministers.

He mentioned Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton (which I downloaded for the flight home). Paton later testified during Nelson Mandela’s 1964 treason trial. Mandela avoided execution; the sentence was life imprisonment and many say that it’s due to Paton’s testimony on his behalf.

Apartheid itself literally means “segregation” in Afrikaans.

He also reminded us that the word “Boer” means “farmer” — once descriptive, now often pejorative. “Aardvark” in Afrikaans literally means “earth pig.” Language is layered like that.

One particularly complicated issue: under apartheid, all non-white groups were lumped together legally. Today, in certain university admission systems, “Black” applicants may receive priority over “Coloured” applicants, which creates its own tensions. Faith, our home host, had mentioned that her daughter — strong grades — did not receive placement under such quota systems. The woman on the phone had reportedly told her so directly.

South Africa is not simple.

Pants Are Getting Tight

Let me also just say: three full meals a day is… aggressive. At home I don’t eat three. Here it’s breakfast buffet, plated lunch, plated dinner, and usually wine or local beer. If you leave food on your plate, someone asks what’s wrong.

My pants are registering the data.

Tomorrow we do not meet until 9:30 a.m.

Huzzah.

Days 14–16: Wine, Words, Freedom, & the Long Road to Cape Town

The last you saw your fearless traveler, we were being told “Good luck” by the Kruger gate while pinned between elephants.

Since then: vineyards, revolutionaries, perfume chemistry, language monuments, prison guards, penguins-to-be, and one very long stretch of early wake-ups.

Let’s work backward.

Day 16 (Today): Gardens, District Six, and Christo Brand

Up at 6. On the bus by 6:30. Packed breakfast boxes (suboptimal).

First stop: Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens.

Set against the eastern slopes of Table Mountain, Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens is widely considered one of the world’s great botanical gardens — focused entirely on indigenous South African flora. King proteas. Fynbos. Sculpted pathways. And the mountain rising behind it like it owns the sky.

It’s often listed among the seven best botanical gardens in the world — alongside places like Kew Gardens in London, Singapore Botanic Gardens, Rio de Janeiro’s Jardim Botânico, the New York Botanical Garden, Montreal Botanical Garden, and Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Lofty company — and honestly, standing there, completely deserved.

Abe guided us from the upper slopes downward, explaining medicinal plants, fynbos ecosystems, and how shockingly resilient some of these species are in fire-prone landscapes. We crossed the “Boomslang” bridge — a sinuous elevated walkway named after the snake — which quite literally snakes above the canopy, giving you that slight vertigo thrill of being suspended between air and leaf.

After that, we were released with simple instructions: “Just head downwards and you’ll get to the gate.”

I was particularly taken with the bonsai garden — serene, disciplined, centuries-old miniature trees calmly existing as if they are not the one plant form I cannot keep alive for love or money.

Bastards.

From there, we went to the District Six Museum.

District Six was once a vibrant, multiracial neighborhood in Cape Town. Under apartheid’s Group Areas Act in the 1960s, it was declared a “whites-only” area. More than 60,000 residents were forcibly removed and relocated to barren townships on the Cape Flats. Homes were bulldozed. Communities erased.

The museum is powerful in a quiet way. Street signs. Personal objects. Stories written directly onto sheets, then the words painstakingly stitched in tiny chain stitches. It is not abstract history — it is lived memory.

We walked through town afterward (“keep your bags in front”), and later heard from Christo Brand, one of Nelson Mandela’s prison guards on Robben Island. Brand was 18 when Mandela arrived and eventually developed a respectful relationship with him. He later wrote a memoir, Doing Life with Mandela. Hearing him speak added nuance — it’s one thing to hear about imprisonment; it’s another to hear from someone who stood on the other side of the bars and changed.

Dinner tonight will be at Marco’s African Place, known for traditional African cuisine and live music — think game meats, bobotie, and rhythms that make you want to move even after 15,000 steps.

Tomorrow: Table Mountain (weather permitting), our OAT “controversial topic” discussion (poaching for subsistence vs. commercial abalone trafficking), Cape Peninsula, Boulders Beach penguins, and the Cape of Good Hope.

Sunday: largely on our own, farewell dinner at The Butcher Shop & Grill.

Monday: Cape Town to Walvis Bay, Namibia.

And yes — back to the 44-lb checked bag and 15-lb carry-on discipline.

Day 15: Franschhoek, Language, and Limo Logistics

Yesterday we drove up to Franschhoek, about 45 minutes from Stellenbosch.

Before heading to Franschhoek, we stopped at the Afrikaans Language Monument (Afrikaanse Taalmonument), dramatically positioned on a hill outside Paarl. From a distance it looks almost futuristic — a cluster of pale concrete forms rising out of the earth like something both sculptural and symbolic. Up close, you realize every curve and angle is deliberate.

The monument was unveiled in 1975 to mark 50 years of Afrikaans being recognized as an official language. The tallest, tapering column — soaring 57 meters into the sky — represents the rapid growth and future aspirations of Afrikaans. A second sweeping arc symbolizes the European roots of the language, primarily Dutch. A lower, rounded form represents African influences, while another element nods to Malay and other linguistic contributions. The structures do not stand isolated; they lean toward one another, intersect, and create negative space between them — visually suggesting that Afrikaans did not emerge from a single source, but from convergence. The open archways and curved walls frame the landscape beyond, reinforcing the idea that language is not static, but expansive.

Architecturally, it feels part monument, part modernist (Brutalist) sculpture garden. The pale concrete shifts color in the light. Pathways lead you upward in stages, so that as you climb, the shapes seem to rearrange themselves. In photos, the lines are bold and clean against the sky; in person, they feel almost kinetic, like frozen movement.

And yet, the monument carries complicated history. Afrikaans evolved from 17th-century Dutch but was shaped over time by Malay, Portuguese, Khoisan languages, and the voices of enslaved and indigenous communities. During apartheid, however, Afrikaans became associated with state power and was imposed as a language of instruction in Black schools — sparking the 1976 Soweto uprising when students protested being forced to learn in it. Standing at the monument today, you feel both pride and tension: celebration of a language’s evolution alongside awareness of the era in which it was politically weaponized.

It is a monument that reaches upward — literally and metaphorically — toward a more inclusive future, while standing firmly in a complicated past.

Franschhoek means “French Corner.” It was settled in the late 1600s by French Huguenots fleeing religious persecution in France after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. They brought viticulture knowledge that helped shape South Africa’s wine industry.

We visited the Huguenot Memorial Museum, which traces that migration and the cultural imprint left on the valley. The memorial itself features a central female figure symbolizing religious freedom, with architectural elements referencing the Holy Trinity and spiritual refuge. The gate was locked, so our photos are from afar — liberty viewed respectfully at a distance.

Inside the same grounds is the First South African Perfume Museum — and I went back three times.

Perfume history is wild. The Romans used scent not just for the body but for clothing, fountains, even walls. They flew perfumed birds through dinner parties. “Cologne” comes from Köln (Cologne, Germany), where Eau de Cologne was first created in the 18th century. Napoleon was famously obsessed with fragrance — reportedly consuming dozens of bottles of cologne a month (jasmine). Xx Scent has always been power, ritual, seduction, medicine.

We had lunch at Wiesenhof, a coffee roastery and eatery. Our places were set with baseball caps reading “Coffee Snob.” The meal ended with a layered mint-and-Amarula drink (called a Springbok) that required one to perform a small dance emulating a Springbok at a watering hole, and then attempting to grab the glass with one’s teeth and down it in one gulp.

The diameter of the glass opening was… ambitious.

Tom tried valiantly.

From there, a splinter group of us hired a limo to visit wineries my manager had suggested. Due to delays, we had to drop one and settled on two: the first, Delair Graaf, a showpiece estate purchased and transformed by a diamond magnate who ripped out the old plantings and redesigned everything into an art-filled statement property; the other Tokara, a more traditional estate.

I was able to convince Ari to hold up one of Jim’s marbles against the mountains – then as he threw it into the bushes surrounding the vineyards, I caught the marble in midair. I wanted to leave one of H’s marbles by a sculpture I know he would have liked – but the security was watching me like a hawk.

We had fun! We tasted. We debated. We actually identified flavor notes. Tracey and Mary were especially taken with the hand soap and lotion at the first estate.

It was glorious.

Day 14: From Kruger to Stellenbosch

We flew from Kruger to Cape Town — arriving to news that the international terminal had experienced a fire, knocking out power. Luckily we were domestic; baggage claim was a guessing game, but manageable.

On the drive to Stellenbosch, we passed a building known locally as “The White House,” where Robert F. Kennedy gave his 1966 “Ripple of Hope” speech at the University of Cape Town during apartheid — speaking about freedom and moral courage in a time of repression.

We also stopped near Drakenstein Prison, where Nelson Mandela was released in 1990 — the famous image of him walking hand-in-hand with Winnie, fist raised. Ironically, just across the road is the former estate of F.W. de Klerk, the apartheid-era president who negotiated Mandela’s release.

In Stellenbosch we stayed at the historic Stellenbosch Hotel — charming, but with several flights of stairs that reminded everyone exactly how much luggage they had brought.

We visited L’Avenir Estate, where Ryan Bredenkamp guided us through the vines and cellar. We tasted MCC (Méthode Cap Classique), rosé, Chenin Blanc, and two expressions of Pinotage. One bottle bore the Old Vine Project seal — awarded to vineyards older than 35 years, with the planting year listed. Another vineyard there will qualify this year.

The rosé was a “Pink Pinotage,” pale and elegant, reflecting the shale soils. Their premium Pinotage used a glass stopper rather than cork — a nod to French style but avoiding cork taint. The punt of the bottle was striated, and when placed over a King Protea bloom, it fit perfectly — art meeting geometry. The single vineyard Pinotage was so strikingly good, Mike and I schemed on how to get it back to the States…until Ryan told us that they had a distributor in San Francisco! Of course Mike is in Florida, but shipping of any number of bottles is ~$25. Score!

That evening we had our home-hosted dinner with Faith and her husband Reggie. “Home hosted meals” are one of the 4 pillars of an Overseas Adventure Trip (controversial subject; home hosted meal; day in the life; charity/school visit). Faith had risen from entry-level work in the wine industry (“when I couldn’t even use a corkscrew”) to leading tours and managing operations. I had watched a YouTube oral history of her beforehand, which startled her delightfully when I referenced it at her driveway.

It was warm, generous, human.

So yes.

We have moved from elephants pushing trees to perfume empires to apartheid history to rosé on shale.

And tomorrow: penguins.

Africa does not do one-note days.

And neither, apparently, do we.

Day 13: Bloats, Appeasing Spirits & Elephants, and “Good Luck”

We breakfasted watching a bloat of hippos lounging on the far bank of the Crocodile River, directly across from Buckler’s.

Yes, a bloat.

Massive gray bodies half in, half out of the water, occasionally yawning like they were late for something prehistoric. We took photos. Many photos.

Off to Kruger we went. Though we had headed out at 0-dark-30 – because guided cars can get in half hour before self-driven cars – the “computers were down” and we lost our advantage.

The morning soundtrack included one of the local doves. Our driver told us that in the early hours its call sounds like “work harder,” and by late afternoon it shifts into something distinctly resembling “drink lager.”

Honestly? Accurate.

Things were, as they say, “quiet,” so the drive became less about sightings and more about learning.

Elephants eat 18 to 22 hours a day. One stomach. They digest only about 10% of what they consume. Unlike giraffes, they are not ruminants — they do not rechew their cud — so much of what goes in comes out remarkably recognizable.

Which we confirmed.

Because yes, our driver picked up a fresh pile of elephant dung and calmly began breaking it apart in her hands. (I forget if I mentioned that – way back in Entabeni – Abe and our driver Isaac had a contest with who could spit a round of impala poo the farthest. Why yes, yes they did. “Because it’s just grass.” Urk.)

But back to the elephant dung. Up close, you could clearly see green leaves — undigested and, more strikingly, unchewed. She explained that when you see a lot of unchewed plant matter, it often indicates an older elephant whose molars are worn down.

Elephants don’t have one lifelong set of teeth. They have six sets of molars that move forward like a conveyor belt over the course of their lives, roughly one new set every decade. By about 60 years old, they’ve worn through the final set — and without grinding ability, survival becomes difficult.

All of which we discussed while she was holding a turd in her hand.

Because that dung is useful.

Burned, it repels mosquitoes. Used medicinally, it plays a role in traditional healing. Including — yes — for pregnancy.

If a woman near the end of pregnancy is believed to have “caught” a bad spirit in the womb, she may be given tea made from elephant dung, because elephants are revered as devoted mothers.

Pause.

We are, in fact, calmly discussing elephant poo tea.

Safari does expand the mind.

This led to a long conversation about ancestral spirits and rituals. Our driver spoke about her mother, Elizabeth. Her mother must be dead, given the conversation. Since Elizabeth was not married when she became pregnant, certain rituals were required to properly acknowledge and appease ancestral spirits. These things are not folklore to our driver — they are part of the architecture of daily life.

We learned and were walked through a practice of walking around an amarula tree to ease spirits and appeal to them if you are having trouble in your life – involving, I think, first a smoke offering to the East (if your mother was married) or West (if not), then around the tree to the other directions. (She didn’t do this part). Talking all the while. This is followed by violently spitting water in the four cardinal directions and talking to your ancestor (here, Elizabeth) and her dead male relatives, who are responsible for figuring out what ancestor was being a bad actor and giving bad luck. Elizabeth’s male relatives had to be appealed to, since she was not married when the driver was conceived. If the mother had been married, then you start by appealing to the father and his mother, then go down the line. The water spitting, she did.

We learned about the buffalo thorn tree, whose thorns grow alternately forward and backward. If someone dies violently or unexpectedly, a branch is cut, words are spoken inviting the spirit into the sprig, and it is brought to the body so the spirit does not wander. If that wasn’t done at burial and misfortune follows, the ritual can later be performed at the grave.

Some healing practices involve ground wild dog bones. Others involve teas from animal dung. From a modern epidemiological perspective, one might raise an eyebrow. From within the cultural system, it is continuity and protection.

The land holds science and spirit simultaneously.

We saw ostrich. A fleeting hyena. Wild/painted dogs running across the road after prey. A baby elephant no more than a day old, wobbling beside its mother.

And then the evening shifted from reflective to cinematic.

Kruger gate closes at 6:30 p.m.

We were going to make it.

Until we weren’t.

We rounded a bend and found the other half of our group (we’d been split into 2 jeeps) blocked by two male elephants — a younger bull and an older one engaged in some testosterone-laced posturing.

The younger bull stepped toward the older one, who was behind a tree to the side of the road. In that moment, the other jeep seized the opportunity and darted behind him to escape.

Unfortunately, that maneuver spooked the younger elephant.

He backed straight into the road.

Blocking everything.

Turned.

Started toward us.

Our driver began backing up — calmly, smoothly — until we collectively realized she hadn’t seen what was behind us:

An entire herd.

Two babies in the road.

Three adolescents.

And a VERY large mother to the side, trunk slung over her tusk in a stance that clearly translated to:

Try me.

We shouted.

“STOP. STOP. STOP.”

(Brigitte – in the other jeep – later said they could hear us yelling from their jeep and couldn’t understand why we were “making so much noise” when you’re supposed to be quiet around elephants.)

Yes.

You are.

Unless your driver is calmly reversing you from the frying pan into the fire.

The younger bull turned sideways toward the older male, wrapped his trunk around a small tree, braced his body, and tried — repeatedly — to push it over onto the older bull. (Yes, really. I have pictures.)

He was committed.

The older bull stood his ground and performed a series of mock charges.

Tree: undefeated.

So now we were properly stuck.

Forward: agitated bull, now braced with all his might, attempting to clobber his rival with a tree.

Backward: herd with babies and a matriarch radiating consequence.

Meanwhile, another guided jeep approached from behind the large mom (thank heavens it was a guide and not one of the self-driven rental cars that had been making questionable life choices on our drives). They couldn’t see our situation because of the curve in the road.

All we could think was:

Please do not push them closer to us. We have enough going on.

The guides were talking rapidly on their radios in one of the local languages — switching between that and English, sometimes deliberately so we guests are kept a bit in the dark.

Our driver radioed the gate.

“There is no way we are making 6:30.”

The gate did not sound thrilled.

Another flurry of native language explanation from our driver — who, I will note, was normally unflappable but now had a certain… edge to her tone. (Perhaps she was reminding the gatekeeper that — Why yes, yes we HAD been forced to wait for them, missing our window of opportunity due to their computer failure that morning). The radio crackled. English this time:

“Mmf. Good luck.”

Which is precisely what you want to hear when you are pinned between two sets of elephants.

After what felt like a millennium but was probably 15 minutes, the younger bull abandoned his tree-toppling ambitions. The older bull stopped mock charging. The younger one stepped off the road.

We crept forward.

Creep.

Creep.

Creep.

No movement from the Peanut Gallery (ha ha – ouch stop hitting me…)

Rev the engine to bolt AND—

Stall.

Yes.

The engine stalled.

But we restarted.

We escaped.

Nobody was smooshed.

As the last rays of sun were disappearing, we got to the bridge over the Crocodile River that precedes the gate out. Ilana took the photo here of what we were calling our “Bridge To Freedom” 🙂

On the drive back in the now dark, we were pelted by bugs…I was hit in the face by a bug so hard I had to wear my hoodie backward as a shield (and actually have a welt on my cheek.)

Boma dinner that night included Zulu children from about four to thirteen performing traditional dancing. They had waited for us because we were late. It wasn’t cold exactly — but watching them all dressed solely in traditional short skirts (standing with their arms folded across their chests waiting) made me feel cold just looking at them.

Dinner was wonderful.

And then I made the potato salad decision.

Potato salad that had been sitting outside. In a muggy African evening. Then waiting some more while we watched the performance. Marinating. Developing character. Quietly biding its time like a sun-warmed culinary assassin.

You know how your mother always said, “Don’t eat the potato salad that’s been sitting out”?

Yes.

That potato salad.

It was there. It was glossy. It looked harmless and delish. It had clearly been gathering strength in the heat, just waiting for an unsuspecting traveler to ignore maternal wisdom and say, “Oh, it’ll be fine.”

It was not fine.

At 3 a.m., vengeance.

Given a 1.5-hour van ride, a 3-hour flight, and another 1.5-hour van ride to Stellenbosch, I deployed Imodium.

It worked. Thank goodness.

At the airport, Janice spotted a bag featuring a hippo lounging on a couch. I bought her a coin purse and picked up some coasters for myself. Clemmie!!!!

I also bought warthog socks — one pair for me, one for Mom.

Mom once told a story about sitting poolside in Africa when a warthog trotted up, slipped, fell into the pool, and had to haul itself out.

Now that I’ve seen warthogs run full tilt, trip over nothing, and glare at the universe as if gravity personally betrayed them, I fully believe that story.

From bloats to buffalo thorn to “Good luck” at the gate, Kruger gave us science, spirit, adrenaline, and dung — sometimes all at once.

Slideshow to ALL the Kruger photos is HERE.

And we survived.

Next up: We made it to Stellenbosch. 🍷 I’ll talk a bit about that next. While I did get the slideshow together of ALL the Kruger photos – which took like 45 minutes (linked above), I’ll try to insert more actual photos into the blog. Just . . . Tired. So Tired.

The Court of Master Sommeliers (as it applies to South African Wines)

(a.k.a. Yes, I Actually Did That)

Before we dive into South Africa, a small (but actually not small) preface.

During COVID — when the rest of the planet was perfecting sourdough — I enrolled in the Certified Introductory level with the Court of Master Sommeliers (CMS).

They shipped me little bottles.

Dozens of them.

Tiny, carefully portioned vials of wines from around the world so we could taste blind at home, live on Zoom, while simultaneously being interrogated about soil types in Rioja and labeling laws in Germany.

It was not “wine appreciation.”

It was:

  • Every major wine-producing country
  • Their history
  • Their grape varietals
  • Their geology
  • Their wine laws
  • Their winemaking methodology
  • Plus beer, cider, spirits, sake, and all things Proper Serving related (because why not add more pressure?)

The Introductory (Level 1) exam has a pass rate often cited around 60% — but that’s among people who voluntarily sign up for this kind of structured wine nerd-dom. The real attrition happens later. Fewer than 300 people worldwide have ever passed the Master Sommelier Diploma exam.

So yes.

I passed Level 1.

And yes, I earned the lapel pin.

Which brings us to South Africa.

Why This Is Written (Instead of Delivered as a Speech)

I could stand up and present this.

I could gesture.

I could hold forth.

Some people derive visible joy from standing up and doing such things.

I, however, find that if someone is actually interested, they can absorb this far better in writing — at their own pace — perhaps with a glass in hand.

So.

Let’s get on with it.

South Africa: Vast Country, Concentrated Vineyards

South Africa is enormous.

It’s about a 16-hour drive between Cape Town and Johannesburg.

Yet nearly all viticulture is concentrated in the southwestern corner of the country, near Cape Town.

Why?

Because of major moderating influences:

  • The cold Atlantic Ocean (west)
  • The warm Indian Ocean (east)
  • And most critically: the Benguela Current, a cold current flowing north from Antarctica that cools the western coastline

Without that cooling current, much of the Western Cape would be too hot for quality wine.

History: Wine and Power

1652 – The Dutch Arrive

The Dutch East India Company establishes a refreshment station at the Cape for ships sailing to India.

Wine was not luxury.

It was morale. Medicine. Survival.

1655 – First Vines

The first vines were planted by enslaved people brought from other parts of Africa and Asia.

Slavery is foundational to the early South African wine industry.

Early plantings included:

  • Semillon
  • Chenin Blanc
  • Palomino

1685 – Constantia and Global Fame

Simon van der Stel (Stellenbosch = [van der] Stel’s Forest) planted vineyards in Constantia.

The sweet wine Vin de Constance became globally famous in the 1700s. It was:

  • Served in European courts
  • Referenced in literature
  • Requested by Napoleon during exile

For nearly a century, it was one of the most sought-after wines in the world.

1688 – The Huguenots

French Huguenots arrived, bringing advanced viticultural knowledge.

Dutch structure.

French technique.

African soil.

That is the foundation.

1800s – War and Phylloxera

The Anglo-Boer Wars destabilized agriculture.

Then phylloxera hit.

Exports collapsed.

1918 – KWV and the Cooperative Era

The KWV (Kooperatiewe Wijnbouwers Vereniging van Zuid-Afrika) was formed to stabilize prices after devastation.

They set minimum prices.

Farmers increased production.

Glut. Bankruptcy. Chaos.

So quotas were imposed.

But farmers had already planted high-yield grapes.

Workaround?

Distill them.

This is how South Africa became known for:

  • Brandy production
  • Fortified wines
  • Oxidative styles

Chenin Blanc (high yielding, relatively neutral) became dominant — especially for distillation.

1948 – Apartheid and Isolation

While the rest of the world was desegregating, South Africa institutionalized Apartheid.

Sanctions followed.

The country produced enormous quantities of wine, fortified wine, and brandy — but had limited legal export routes.

Even more damaging: during the 1970s–1990s, when the rest of the wine world embraced stainless steel, temperature control, clonal research, and modern viticulture science, South Africa was largely cut off.

1994 – Mandela and Modernization

Nelson Mandela becomes president.

Sanctions lifted.

Capital, technology, expertise, and international investment flow in.

Massive replanting begins.

In 1997, KWV becomes a private company.

Today, South Africa ranks among the top 10 wine-producing nations globally.

Terroir: Ancient Soil, Maritime Moderation

  • Soils up to 500 million years old
  • Nutrient-poor → vines struggle → lower yields → concentrated fruit
  • Maritime climate near coast
  • Hotter and drier inland
  • Elevation plays a major moderating role

The Cape Doctor

A powerful southeast wind.

It:

  1. Suppresses fungal disease
  2. Moderates vineyard temperatures
  3. Can damage flowering and reduce yields

Because fungal pressure is lower, South Africa adopted sustainable and organic practices earlier than many European regions.

The Grapes

Whites

  • Sauvignon Blanc
  • Chardonnay
  • Chenin Blanc (“Steen”)

South Africa produces more Chenin Blanc than the rest of the world combined.

If someone says “Chenin Blanc” and you automatically think Loire Valley…

Think again.

Reds

  • Cabernet Sauvignon
  • Syrah/Shiraz
  • Bordeaux blends
  • Pinot Noir
  • Pinotage

Pinotage

Pinotage = Pinot Noir × Cinsault (formerly called “Hermitage”).

Developed in the 1920s.

Early versions were rustic.

Modern versions are polished, dark-fruited, structured, and distinctly South African.

Méthode Cap Classique (MCC)

MCC = Méthode Cap Classique.

Traditional method sparkling wine (Champagne method).

Bright. High acid. Often extraordinary value.

Vine Virus & The Old Vine Movement

Isolation during Apartheid led to widespread vine virus (leaf roll in particular).

Post-1994, replanting surged.

Today, a remarkable “Old Vine Project” seeks out neglected old vineyards — incredibly low yield, exceptionally high quality.

Wine of Origin (W.O.) — The Hierarchy (With California Comparisons)

South Africa’s W.O. system (1973) guarantees origin.

It does not dictate grape varieties or stylistic rules — unlike many European appellations.

If a wine carries a W.O. seal:

  • 85%+ stated vintage
  • 85%+ stated varietal
  • 100% from the named origin

Now the hierarchy — smallest to largest — with California analogies.

1️⃣ Estate (Smallest)

All grapes must come from one contiguous property.

Wine must be grown and made there.

California comparison:

A true estate-grown Napa property.

No blending from outside sources to “fix” the vintage.

More terroir expression.

Less flexibility.

More vintage variation.

2️⃣ Ward

A small, terroir-defined subdivision within a district.

Defined by soil, elevation, geology, climate.

Example: a ward within Stellenbosch (which has 7)

California comparison:

Rutherford within Napa Valley.

More specific climate signature.

Blending flexibility to reach a desired tasting profile, but only within that ward.

3️⃣ District

Recognizable names:

  • Stellenbosch
  • Paarl
  • Swartland
  • Walker Bay

California comparison:

Napa Valley, Sonoma County, Paso Robles.

If it says “Stellenbosch Cabernet Sauvignon”:

  • 100% from Stellenbosch
  • 85% Cabernet Sauvignon

Producer can blend from multiple vineyards inside Stellenbosch.

4️⃣ Region

Grouping of districts.

Example: Coastal Region.

California comparison:

North Coast or even just “California”.

Greater blending flexibility.

More stylistic consistency year to year. This is why if you can love a “California wine,” the vintner will be able to make that same tasting profile year after year – because they have all of California to source “a little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

5️⃣ Geographical Unit (Largest)

Example: Western Cape.

Broad origin. Maximum blending flexibility.

Concentric Circles

Estate → Ward → District → Region → Geographical Unit

Moving outward:

  • Specificity decreases
  • Blending flexibility increases
  • Consistency becomes easier

Moving inward:

  • Terroir expression increases
  • Vintage variation increases
  • Winemaker flexibility decreases

Unlike France’s AOC system, South Africa’s W.O. does not regulate yield limits, aging rules, or grape approvals.

It is truth-in-labeling of origin.

Very New World in spirit.

Key Regions

Stellenbosch

Historic capital of South African wine.

Produces:

  • Cabernet Sauvignon
  • Bordeaux blends
  • Pinotage
  • Chenin

Structured, age-worthy wines.

Swartland

Former bulk wine area.

Now revolutionary.

  • Dry farming
  • Old vines
  • Chenin, Syrah, Grenache
  • Revival of Palomino, Cinsault, Semillon

Yield ↓

Character ↑↑

Walker Bay / Elgin / Cape Agulhas

Cool-climate zone.

Chardonnay.

Pinot Noir.

Sauvignon Blanc.

Fresh. Precise. Ocean-influenced.

Constantia

Birthplace of South African wine.

Historic sweet wines; now also fine dry whites.

SOUTH AFRICA QUIZ

  1. What is Steen?
  2. How is Pinotage made?
  3. What cools coastal vineyards?
  4. Which is a South African district: Mendoza, Maipo, Salta, Stellenbosch?
  5. Order the W.O. levels smallest → largest.
  6. Three effects of the Cape Doctor?
  7. What is KWV?

Answers

  1. Chenin Blanc
  2. Pinot Noir × Cinsault
  3. The Benguela Current
  4. Stellenbosch
  5. Estate → Ward → District → Region → Geographical Unit
  6. Suppresses fungus, moderates temps, can damage flowering
  7. A cooperative founded in 1918 to stabilize grape prices; privatized in 1997

There you have it.

A not-at-all-small overview of the South African wine industry — history, politics, geology, reinvention.

I would rather write this properly once than make you endure it and zone out.

But if you would like to discuss Chenin over MCC?

I’m available. 🍷 However, I’m sure Abe has forgotten more about South African wines than I ever will know. If you’re curious to see my “wine recording book” (complete with a laminated tasting “cheat sheet”) please just ask.

Day 12: Kruger, 600 Photos, and the Biological Marvels of Everything

Kruger is why I’m behind.

Yesterday (Day 1 here), I was up until nearly 10 p.m. editing photos — and we had to be “at the gate to Kruger” at 5:00 this morning. Guides get priority entry into the park for the first half hour. Yesterday we did not. Today we did. Worth the 45 minutes less sleep.

Yesterday, over 300 photos didn’t make the cut.

And there were still nearly 300 left.

We’ve done the morning round thus far today, and it’s been a bit “quiet.” Which, in Kruger terms, still means astonishing.

Abe told us we were to be “helper guides.” The guides use WhatsApp groups and radios to alert one another to sightings. Some guides share generously. Some hoard. Abe noted — diplomatically but clearly — that the hoarding behavior unfortunately skews toward certain white guides. The ecosystem is complicated in more ways than one.

We were tasked with spotting whatever we could. Even if it was just an ALT or a BLT — an Animal-Like Thing or a Bird-Like Thing (a.k.a. stump, rock, bush).

So here is what our collective eagle eyes turned up.

The “road runner birds” are actually spur fowl — cousins to the kamikaze picnic birds we saw in Entabeni.

The sausage tree is apparently a fine place to sleep — no snakes. However, the sausages themselves are heavy, woody, and could absolutely knock you unconscious if one fell. So perhaps not that fine.

Tracey spotted a kudu deep in the bush. The name “kudu” is said to mimic the sound they make when bounding away. The spiraled kudu horn produces an extraordinary resonant sound and was historically used for communication — we dubbed it the “African shofar.”

All wildebeest (gnu) calves are born in December. So much so that in the local language, December is referred to as “wildebeest birth time.” Nature runs on schedule here.

We saw a red (something) tree with long bean-like pods hanging from it. If you burn the pods, you can brew a kind of bush coffee from the ashes.

We had a black mamba cross the road — too fast for a photo, which is precisely the problem with black mambas. They are among the most venomous snakes in Africa and extraordinarily quick. (And yes — venomous, not poisonous. Venom enters the bloodstream through a bite; poison harms when ingested or absorbed. Think curare from the slime on poisonous frogs, used on poison darts. We were corrected, properly.)

We glimpsed a hyena — mostly brown blur through brush — but it counts.

We have seen many a weaver bird nest. The male builds it. He then brings a female to inspect it. If she disapproves, she tears it apart. He may try again — if she hasn’t found a better nest carpenter first. Evolution has no patience for mediocre craftsmanship.

We photographed a terrapin crossing the road. It immediately made me think of “Terrapin Station,” the Grateful Dead album — and Phil Lesh’s now-closed venue back home. I don’t know if the turtle had any jam-band aspirations, but it had excellent presence.

We learned that giraffes have an extraordinary blood pressure regulation system. When they lower their heads to drink, specialized valves and tight skin around the neck vessels help control the rush of blood so they don’t faint. When they lift their heads again, they shake slightly as circulation stabilizes. If humans had to drink like that, we’d be horizontal most of the time.

We saw so many birds.

The European roller — iridescent blues and flashes of gold — is a cousin to the lilac-breasted roller (Lynn’s favorite from her previous trip). The kingfisher we saw had a red head and brilliant blue wings. I will have a slideshow of All Things Kruger on the last day. It takes too long to upload…

We spotted painted dogs — African wild dogs — which is incredibly rare. Not only that, we saw a mating pair. In a pack, only the alpha male and alpha female breed. The others help hunt and raise the pups. It is a tightly structured society with one ruling couple at a time.

On warthogs (pumba!), the males have four tusks — two prominent upward-curving ones and two smaller ones behind. Females have just the two front tusks. The babies have little white facial tufts that simulate tusks until their real ones grow. Their tails stick straight up when they run — partly for communication in tall grass, partly for balance. (They do trip. A lot.)

We learned about elephant social structure. The matriarch — what I scribbled as “Mytrog” — is the head female. She leads the herd and influences mate selection for younger females. The dominant males operate more independently and are responsible for mentoring younger bulls on how to “behave” like adult males.

To distinguish male from female elephants visually: the female often has a more V-shaped forehead; the male’s forehead tends to appear broader and flatter. Subtle, but once you see it, you see it.

We saw a Cape glossy starling — metallic blue-black — and remembered why they’re called kamikaze birds at picnics.

We learned about amarula — the fruit elephants love, and which is turned into a cream liqueur that tastes like a cross between Baileys and coquito. Abe purchased some in Victoria Falls and we had it for dessert on our first night here. If it appears in Duty Free, resistance may be futile. Though at this point, with a 44 lb checked limit and 15 lb carry-on limit, every potential purchase is evaluated in pounds. “Lovely carving… nope, that’s a pound.”

And then — perhaps most fascinating — we learned why giraffes must keep moving. When they browse on acacia trees, the tree begins producing tannins that make the leaves bitter. Not only that, the tree releases airborne chemical signals that alert neighboring trees, which then also turn their leaves bitter. So giraffes must move constantly, outpacing the communication network of the trees.

Nature is not passive.

It is strategic.

We head out again in about twenty minutes for the afternoon drive. The slideshow for Kruger will be on the last day of Kruger – because it takes forever to get them to load.

If yesterday was 600 photos and a black mamba, I’m not betting against Kruger.

Stay tuned.

Day 11: Elephants in the Street, Empire Lessons, and Arrival at Buckler’s

We didn’t have to get up too early — bags outside the door, breakfast, and off we went. The drive to the airport wasn’t long, though it was punctuated by an elephant calmly blocking the street. As one does.

Lynn had taken my shaving kit into her checked bag (which is now about ten pounds under weight, thanks to the school computers being gifted and some strategic shifting). Unfortunately, the bag I purchased to replace the dearly departed over-the-shoulder bag that died at the airport is not quite as roomy. I did my best to stuff it with the camera bag and tech bag. The late, great bag had also held the two pounds of Ghirardelli chocolates for our upcoming home-hosted visit. Yes, lamented.

We flew from Zimbabwe back into South Africa and landed at Kruger Mpumalanga International Airport. Mpumalanga is the province that borders Kruger National Park, and the word means “place of the rising sun.”

On our roughly 1 hour 45 minute van drive, we received a master class in South African history.

“Kruger” refers to Paul Kruger, the second-to-last president of the South African Republic (Transvaal) before the British took control. When defeat seemed imminent, he fled into Mozambique (then Portuguese territory), and ultimately to Switzerland, where he died in exile.

Abe reminded us that “Afrikaners” were not just of Dutch origin, but also included French Huguenots and Germans who had settled here. The word “Boer” means farmer — though today it is often used as a pejorative.

The British originally had little interest beyond trade, but once gold was discovered, everything changed. In 1910, the British and Afrikaners formed the Union of South Africa — in part because together they represented only about 10% of the population, and unity strengthened their political control. It was described as a democracy, but it was democracy for some, not for all.

As Abe put it, they believed it was their “God-given right and moral obligation” to educate — and rule — the indigenous population. South Africa became, in many ways, a “little Europe.”

It took 84 years before South Africa became a true democracy in 1994.

Abe did note that during white minority rule, South Africa developed some of the most productive agricultural land in the world. This province is an example: lush, subtropical, and astonishingly green. We saw citrus groves, banana trees wrapped in protective coverings, and macadamia nut farms — which are currently booming, with farmers pulling out other crops to plant macadamias.

This area also produces timber for the paper industry and sits atop some of South Africa’s largest coal reserves — much of it lower-grade coal used in power generation and heavy industry, including smelting operations such as copper processing in Zambia.

Large tracts of land and many mines remain owned by international conglomerates. De Beers, for example, is not just about diamonds.

Abe pointed out something I hadn’t realized: look at the name on your juice box on the plane — Rhodes.

Cecil Rhodes founded Rhodes Fruit Farms, which still operates today. Rhodes never married and had no children; instead, he poured his wealth into imperial expansion and philanthropy (including the Rhodes Scholarship). He was very much the flip side of Livingstone — a buccaneering imperialist who aggressively acquired land for what he saw as the glory of “Queen Vicky” and the British Empire, during the era when it was said the sun never set on that empire.

Many British settlers wrote of South Africa as “empty land,” ignoring the indigenous populations who had lived here for generations.

Driving along the roads, you sometimes see white crosses marking places where farmers were killed — a visible reminder of how deeply entangled and unresolved land and race issues remain.

We arrived at Buckler’s Africa Lodge and, after a brief rooming debacle, were rewarded with a lovely lunch overlooking the Crocodile River.

There was an elephant quite close to the deck, and another further upstream with five hippos nearby. Abe and I were both surprised the hippos were out of the water — it was hot, and their skin is sensitive!

All of our meals are covered while we’re here. We’ve had lunch and are now unpacking just enough to reassemble “safari clothes” before dinner.

Tomorrow is our first full Kruger game drive: wake-up call at 5:00 (coffee, tea, rusks), depart at 5:30, into Kruger by 6:00 through Crocodile Bridge Gate. Breakfast packs at 8, lunch at 12, back to the lodge by 3, and dinner at 7.

The following day — Monday, Herbert’s birthday — we repeat the early start, return to Buckler’s for a proper breakfast at 9:30, lunch at 1:00, an afternoon drive at 2:30, and then a Boma dinner at 7 with local entertainment.

When we were getting ready to leave the U.S., there had been massive flooding in Kruger, closing much of the park and causing evacuations. I had watched a YouTube video filmed from the deck at Buckler’s showing the Crocodile River raging almost up to the deck.

Today, while eating lunch on that same deck, I realized that an entire building between the riverbank and the deck must have been underwater.

The staff confirmed it.

Everything is fine now.

I don’t think I took any photos today — between getting up and out, driving, flying, and driving again. Well, that’s not entirely true. I did try to take photos of the hippos and elephant across the Crocodile River, but I’m feeling too lazy right now to get out the SD card transfer cable. Those will wind up in tomorrow’s post.

And finally — thank you.

I spend a fair bit of time getting what we learn and what I’m noticing into this blog. I mostly do it because my mom reads it aloud to my dad, and sometimes my dad pulls it up himself.

But to the rest of you out there who are following along — thank you, thank you, and thank you. 😉

Day 10: Rhino Sleuthing, The Big (and Ugly) 5, and the Lovely Livingstone Lodge

Today was our Zambia day — passports in hand, dual-entry visas at the ready.

No issues heading into Zambia (aside from the ever-present copper bracelet hustlers). Coming back into Zimbabwe was more dramatic: about half our crew had visa issues, while the rest of us — the dual-entry visa crowd — slipped back in without trouble.

We crossed over to sleuth out a rhino and, in the process, learned far more about elephants, vultures, monitor lizards, termite architecture, antelope anatomy, and group names than I expected.

And yes — we did see two rhinos. I’m not sure that officially qualifies as a crash (the proper group name for rhinos), but it was enough to make us happy.

First: elephants.

An elephant can be left- or right-“handed.” If the left tusk is sharper, that’s the dominant side. The dominant tusk is used for finer tasks — digging, stripping bark — while the blunter tusk handles heavier chores. If an elephant loses a tusk, it’s usually the blunter, more heavily used one.

And how to tell a male from a female elephant?

Watch the bathroom habits.

A female urinates directly on top of her dung.

A male sprays forward or around it — but never on top.

You’re welcome.

On to rhinos:

Black rhinos stand in front of their babies to protect them.

White rhinos keep their babies in front of them.

White rhinos have a noticeable shoulder hump and graze with their heads down. Black rhinos browse from trees and shrubs, so their heads are often up — which makes them harder to hunt. White rhinos, heads down in the grass, are easier to sneak up on.

We also learned that White Rhinos Don’t Jump. There is safari lore that if one charges, lying flat behind a log might save you — unless there’s a herd. In that case, apparently, they will simply surround you.

Comforting.

Those of us on the pre-trip have seen four of the Big Five — lion, elephant, rhino, and Cape buffalo — but not the mythical leopard. Those who joined us for the main trip have seen two so far.

We’ve all seen three of the Ugly Five — wildebeest, warthog, and vulture —the remaining two members of that less-than-glamorous club are the hyena and the marabou stork. As we head to Kruger tomorrow morning, we’re expecting to add a few more to our tally.

Then, there is also the Little Five (animals whose names contain the Big Five) – the antlion, the elephant shrew, the rhinoceros beetle, leopard tortoise (which we did see on the pre-trip), and the buffalo weaver.

Naturally, that led us to invent a few additional categories.

For the Nasty Five, we nominated the honey badger (zero fear, zero manners), the assassin beetle, the demonic wasps that stung me yesterday . . . to which I would add the black mamba and the tsetse fly — small, but historically mighty — to round out the category.

For the Pretty Five, we proposed the giraffe (elegance personified) and the cheetah; I’d add the zebra (nature’s graphic design masterpiece), the lilac-breasted roller (if Africa had a jewel mascot), and either the African fish eagle (wings outstretched over the Zambezi) or the puku — which we were lucky enough to see both male and female, separately.

Speaking of zebra, we also learned that a group of zebras is called a dazzle. The name fits perfectly: when predators are hunting them, the adults put the babies in the center and then weave and move together in a shifting black-and-white blur, trying to “dazzle” the predator and make it lose track of the young.

The puku is a reddish-brown antelope that favors wetlands and river plains. They’re built a bit differently from impala — slightly heavier through the front with relatively shorter forelegs — and their running style reflects that. They bound strongly forward but don’t leap as high or as theatrically as impala.

We also saw one white-backed vulture — the “undertaker” of the vulture world. They aren’t strong enough to open carcasses themselves, so they wait for larger vultures to do the heavy lifting. Poachers sometimes kill vultures because circling birds reveal where illegal kills have taken place.

We spotted a Cape glossy starling — otherwise known as a kamikaze picnic bird. They will absolutely bomb you for your food. Ruthless.

Termite mounds are marvels of architecture. They’re rounded — no corners — because snakes prefer corners to hide in. No corners, fewer snakes. They also lean away from the prevailing east wind, meaning they subtly “point” west.

We had lunch at the David Livingstone Safari Lodge on the Zambezi — quite the place. Polished wood, sweeping river views, and the kind of lodge where you half expect someone to hand you a gin and tonic just for walking in. We were meant to eat outside, but the rain had other ideas.

While there, I broke down and purchased a red, black, and white kente-cloth-style duster. It seemed inevitable.

Before the Lodge, we visited a large local market. In the slideshow, you can see photos of the various wares…including dried maggots which I think I heard Ari tried (not recommended). We were tasked with speaking to someone and learning something interesting. I spoke with two men who were removing worn thread from sandals and re-stitching them.

What were they using for thread?

Strips cut from Dunlop tires.

They slice thread-thin bands from old tires and use them as nearly indestructible stitching material. The original thread gives way first — so they replace it with something that won’t.

Ingenious.

As I type this, a serious thunderstorm is rolling overhead.

Tomorrow we leave for Kruger. Bags to pack. Boots to dry. Leopard to locate.

Slideshow HERE.