Cape Town to Cairo Completed

Returning home after an expedited voyage is always bitter sweat. On one hand, four countries and 4500 miles in just under two months will tire even the most energetic traveler; especially when approximately one month was spent sleeping in the dirt. On the other hand, you would be insane in admitting a desire to depart this alluring continent.

The thought-provoking people and places we encountered are enough to preoccupy my mind for months. The adrenaline coursing through my veins from our submersion with great white sharks, the near death hippo encounter and the unforgettable leopard hunt is enough to keep my heart running for a century. I also drank enough Coca Cola to kill a small horse, but luckily it killed everything else.

My plane flight home was more than just a return to comfortable surroundings, clean food and a familiar bed; it was a slight submission. One of greatest parts of traveling is the freedom and mental stimulation we experience. They are powerfully addicting, and their absence caused by returning home can result in mild withdrawals. Maybe that is why I keep coming back for more.

Africa is one of the untamed masterpieces of a traveler's repertoire. It is as diverse as it is unknown and can inspire the uninspired. Once you get there, one can see the highlights of Africa on a dime or in a Rolls-Royce but I hope that in your lifetime you play with a little fire by traveling to the cradle of the world, Africa.

Hello California, it's good to be home.

Sharm el Sheikh -- The Perfect End

Perched at the tip of the Sinai Peninsula, jetting out into the Red Sea, the resort-destined or dive enthusiast traveler will find Sharm el Sheikh. Perhaps it is Sharm's holy geographical position--just south of Mt. Sinai (the mountain upon which Moses was given the ten commandments by God)--but the location and its surrounding coral reefs are truly divine.

Ryan, Mina and myself arrived at the Marriott Renaissance two days ago, a palace like hotel postured at the doorstep of Ras Mohammad National Coral Park. As I discussed in my previous posting, it was not until we parted with Ashcraft's friend were we able to be completely take in by the service of this 5-star hotel, and thus leaving the in-your-face style of Egyptian businessmen behind us once and for all. After six weeks of living in the dirt or in near-condemned hotels, and negotiating for the cloths on our backs, a little luxury and service felt pretty good. Truthfully, I think our only demand at that point was a decent shower.

While we are on a role here, why don't I go out on a limb and say that our time here can be summed up in three small words, class, class, class (Thank you Vince Vaughn). Each morning after arising to sunshine, plush bedding and a world class breakfast, we are shuttled to the marina which houses an armada of white nautical monstrosities waiting to accommodate hundreds of divers and snorkelers hungry to view the beauties of this oceanic playground.

Surprisingly, with two law and two MBA degrees among the group, we were unable to clearly see that not a single fishing boat birthed in this marina--and rightfully so. The entire coastline surrounding Sharm is a protected National Park which bars commercial fishing. Needless to say, poor quality seafood is ubiquitous in Sharm, which we discovered in a rather nauseating fashion by ordering fish, not just once, but twice. On a redeeming note, Dave Guetta will be performing in two nights in the Vegas-like downtown of Sharm on the last night of Ramadan...perhaps this warrants pushing my flight back.

While our decision was out of pure laziness, choosing the hotel's dive operator, "Dive-In," turned out to be a brilliant choice--their operation ran like clockwork and the staff was top-notch, including Olga, a platinum blond ex-Russian spy, and Jim a pirate in a former (or potentially current) life.

I am riding an ever-flowing high right now after our fourth dive of the past two days--a spot called Shark Reef. Each dive thus far has topped the previous one, and Shark Reef was no slouch. And while each dive was singularly novel for its greatness, this one transcended just diving and became one the greatest experiences of this trip.

That is saying a lot considering I have spent the past month and a half diving with great whites, drinking cow's blood and mingling with lions. It was hands down the most spectacular decent of my short career (with only 30+ dives under my belt).

The dive consisted of a myriad of sea life unlike I have ever seen, from turtles and gigantic barracuda, to napoleons and thousands of tiny fish which bubbled around us as we ascended a bottomless reef wall nearly 100ft down. The colors and shapes of the coral were deserving of an exhibit at Muse de Orse or the New York MOMA, with the turquoise and bright purple clusters standing out. The geographical diversity was unprecedented for a single dive. At one point we crossed between two fairly separated reefs, putting us into the "blue" momentarily--freaking Mina out and leaving me in a state of bliss. Oh, did I mention, the endless visibility? We might as well have been looking through a well cleaned window.

Somehow this was all accomplished in just under an hour. I felt like I had captured a lifetime of experiences and sights in that short window of 2000 and 200psi. Or if you are Mina, 2000 and 1000 psi (my girlfriend does not consume any oxygen). Can anything ever top that? If we get the chance to dive the shipwreck of Thistlegrom, there is a very good possibility, but we will see...I may be ruined from here on out.

For any would be traveler to Egypt, do not make the tragic mistake of leaving Egypt without making at least a quick stop in Sharm el Sheikh. After nearly two months in Africa and a mind full of unique experiences, Sharm will always be the bright coral of our trip.

Arrving in Sharm...Good-bye to Ashcraft and Company

As I have eluded to numerous times during our time in Egypt, the expected monetary "tip" upon the completion of even a minuscule task is an annoying feature of the Egyptian experience for travelers. What became most annoying was Ashcraft's persistent reminders to tip anyone and everyone--sometimes for no apparent cause. At this rate we had exhausted our "tip" funds by the time we had reached Luxor and when we parted ways with Ashcraft on our way to Sharm El Sheikh this afternoon, to my admitted embarrassment, we left without leaving a tip for our wheeling and dealing tour guide.

In all honesty, I had intended to tip Ashcraft, albeit a very small amount commensurate with his abilities and performance, but with trying to get everything packed up to go I forgot to leave the money with the front desk. I only realized this after we were in the cab well on our way to the airport. Ryan and Mina, who opposed giving Ashcraft any tip in the first place, felt no remorse and soon convinced me that I should not either. Perhaps it was the fact that Ashcroft could not eat all day, but at times it did not seem like we had a tour guide at all--rather an Egyptian who was trying to displace as much of our money into the hands of his countrymen.

We did leave Ashcraft on a high note, or so we thought, when he arranged for one of his business associates to pick us up at the Sharm El Sheikh airport and drive us to our hotel for a ridiculously cheap rate (almost 60% cheaper that other outfits). Upon meeting Ashcroft's friend and being carried away to the hotel, we quickly realized that Ashcraft had swindled us again, as Ashcraft's friend was trying every trick in the book to have us book our diving through him. At one point he attempted to claim that the dive operator that we had selected (the one run out of the Marriot hotel where we were staying) was unsafe--despite the fact that we showed him numerous reviews of the superiority of the dive operator.

When we arrived to the hotel (sorry, incredible resort) , Ashcraft's friend followed us in and again attempted to make the hard sell and it was not until we started to head to the rooms with bags in hand did he get the clue, and can you believe it...he wanted a god damn tip. Good-bye Ashcraft and company, hello Sharm el Sheikh.

Falafel and Baba ghanoush--Exploits of Aswan, Luxor and Sailing the Nile

"One of my fondest memories of Egypt was an expedition for falafel during Ramadan."

When we travel, we have the odd tendency to recall, with great detail, events, people and situations somewhat departed from the supposed reason why we traveled to a particular place. Yes standing in front of the Pyramids is a awe-inspiring moment, but what about the other 90% of your time? As I often think with my stomach, not surprisingly, my travel memories are hallmarked by breakfast, lunch, dinner and every snack inbetween, including a trip for falafel one blazing hot afternoon in Luxor.

Aswan and Luxor are treasure chests of historic greatness, from the Karnak Temple and the Valley of the Kings, to the Temple of Abu Simbel. These architectual relics of a faded but influencial empire are grand reminders of the inpiring and the tyranious of which mankind is capable. I would recommend spending a great deal of time wondering the Great Hall within the Karnak Temple and gazing at the hyrogliphs hundreds of feet below in the Valley of the Kings. So rarely is this type of ancient history available for such close encounters. I would, however, also sacrifice a substantial chunk of your time to exploring the food, because there is a whole lot you can miss if you do not.

I have met some travelers who mock my obsession with food as an ill-placed priority. Coincidentally, these are the same individuals who feel that the only good reason to come to Egypt is to snap a picture of themselves in front of the Pyramids. Food, in my mind, is a segway into what is really important when you travel--the people. Yes, it can get a little gritty, and some times you are not quite sure what you are sinking your teeth into, but isn't that what life is all about? I sometimes think of all that we would have missed had we been content with the Americanized restaurant at the foot of our hotel.

Getting falafel at high noon during Ramadan in the middle of Luxor is not exactly as easy as it sounds. As such, our expedition to find great falafel in Luxor was more than just satiating a hunger for fried chic peas and yogurt sause. It quickly became a speed dating session of Luxor's finest from the pair of restaurant owners who debated for 20 minutes over what was the best falafel in Luxor (we called it "Egyptian Yelp"), to our politically charged cab driver who drove as fast and as well ask he spoke English.

Once all was said and done, we finally arrived at a small road side food cart manned by a toothless, razor thin man who was happy to fire up the oil to make a little falafel. The deep fried balls of deliciousness were about as fulfilling as not having to negotiate down a "skin tax" premium as is typical for mostly any Egyptian transaction entered into by a tourist or Expat.

I would be selling Aswan short if I did not also mention its hidden foodie gems. Aswan, which was the southern most tip of the Egyptian empire and famous its merchants trying to sell tourists bushels of fake saphron, is also home to a large Nubian population. Possible through mostly any tour group, one can cross the Nile to one of the numerous Nubian islands just off Aswan for a unreplicatable home cooked meal experience. Our expedition led us to a small, white, and open roofed home with soft tan sand serving as the floor. Once the sun had set, the tower from the mosque next door sang the break-fast prayers into our dinning room and we sat down to a feast sprawled out on colorful Nubian blankets. There were so many different types of stews that I cannot recall them all, except that I was ready to pop at the end, but my favorite had to be the goat with eggplant and lentals in a tasty mint sauce.

Our voyage from Aswan to Luxor was a culinary experience in and of itself, or maybe I should say a nautical dream. What better way to experience a slice of Aswanian life than sail on a Felluca up the Nile to Luxor (or at least a part of the way) at the mercy of the winds, tide, and two able bodied Nubian sailors.

As we sailed into the afternoon and the sun got blistering hot we grabbed ahold of a secured rope and jumped off the back of the boat for a little Egyptian water skiing. A word to the wise, do not swallow any Nile water. Thank the Lord for a little antibiotic called Cypro (do not leave home without it). Once we all dried off, we hung our feet off the side and enjoyed an afternoon snack of Egyptian standards--flat breads, dates, baba ghanoush and humus. As much as it pains me to say it, step over chips and guacamole.

Upon docking later that evening, we again all sat around a beautiful spread of goat, beef and vegetarian stews, olives, breads, and my favorite,baba ghanoush. Arriving in Luxor yesterday morning marked a significant milestone of our trip...we have but one week left on this epic journery. As I fell asleep aboard the deck of our felluca that night, the thought of leaving Egypt haunted me profusely--how was I going to leave all of this fantastic food behind?

Cairo & Aswan: Pyramids, Saffron and Convoys

We arrived in Aswan, from Cairo, two days ago. Our whirlwind experience over the past 72 hours has been indicative of our first impressions of Egypt...fun, energentic with a dash of crazy. Since we spent an extra day in Zanzibar we arrived the morning that the tour began and upon a quick breakfast of pita bread, cucummbers and cheese, we were wisked away to the Pyramids of Giza and the Great Sphinx.

For those of you who have never stood before the Pyramids of Giza, it is a bit surreal. I am still having trouble fully convincing myself I was there.

What with all the pictures one sees from the time they were little, one might confuse the experience with a well detailed dream.

We met our tour guide, Ashcraft, this mo rning. He has a bit more of a run and gun flavor to him. This may just be the M.O. of Egyptians as it has manifested itself everywhere, from the orchestration of people in and out of the Pyramids, to the currating at the Cairo Museum. Which reminds me--To Do List--Letter to England..."Dear Brits, please keep all valuable Egyptian artifacts you have pillaged from Egypt despite avid requests

from Egyptian historians for their return. The priceless antiquities will last far longer in your possession there than in the 102F hot box know as the Cairo Museum. Thank you and Cheerio." Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed with the state of the Cairo Museum despite the most incredible historic artifacts.

What trip to the Pyramids would be complete without a shot atop a camel with the three Great Pyramids and Cairo bascing in the distance? This is about as touristy as it gets but can you blame us. Even Anthony Bourdane would want a shot like that (while simultaneously drinking the local fire water and smoking a cirgarette). It is difficult to imagine that ancient mankind created such celestial entities--no not Anthony Bourdane.

After a quick shot infront of the Sphynx, where a least a dozen men proported to be the official and solely authorized photographer of the Sphynx, we were quickly sucked back from our historic fantasy by a KFC placed sharply 50 yards from the feet of the Sphynx. We did not dine here but did indulge in some killer falafel at what resembled an old-school Fosters Freeze (sorry was that redundant?).

With only half a day to kill before catching a late all night train to Aswan, Mina, Ryan and myself headed out to see as much of Cairo as we could. Cairo is as complex as it is crazy, and would take

a life time to explore and appreciate--my only regret of this whole trip was that we only got a half day in Cairo. From our short time there, here is what I gather. The city at first can seem a little much amongst the sea of greyish-brown buildings, endless satellite dishes and waves of business men trying to draw you into their shops. Once you scratch a little deeper, however, there is a beatiful culture of food,

religion and pride which has "thrived" in this desert city for centuries. Until next time Cairo...I look forward to the reunion tour.

For any couple, traveling together can be a testing experience. A 12 hour train ride in the middle of Egypt has the potential to be a deal breaker. Luckily for us, we were so obsessed with trying to keep our AC working we worried very little about anything else.

Aswan is the opitmay of a river city--sprawling out of the east banks of the Nile while the Sahara desert sits across idolly as a constant remind of the life vain which is the Nile. The predominate mode of transportation during our time here was via motor boat as we moved across the different parts of the city nesetled up to the shore.

Aswan is a place where, as a tourist, you can get lost in the real nature of Egyptian culture once the sun has set and fasting has ended. One night, when we were all hungry for a little "authenticity," we ventured into the back alleys of the

Aswanian markets. For the first time since we entered Egypt we were the only tourists as far as the eye could see and the calls from the merchants pettling spices and fake stone statues ceased, but were replaced with stares of confusion. Perhaps it is because I abhore the skin tax but the most refreshing part of this exercise, besides not being hassled to buy fake saffron, was walking into a pastrie shop and getting real Egyptian prices--$0.75 for a full plate of deliciousness.

Another appeal of Aswan is that it serves as a jumping off point for the famous temple of Abu Simbel, the once southern boundary landmark of the Egyptian empire. Yes, waking up at 3am to catch a 3hr bus ride escorted by armed convoy

through the desert is not my ideal situation, but once you reach Abu Simbel any frustration will fade away; it is that spectacular.

Since the time we touched down in this energetic country we have been moving like a New York cab driver on speed. You eat, see and sometimes sleep on the run. Even the cultural experience jumps 5000 years in a matter of seconds from ancient Egyptian Sphinxes to modern political uncertainty. For all my ADD laden friends, Egypt is your place, and probably mine.

Zanzibar, Paradise with Bitter Chai

Before arriving in Tanzania I could not tell you a single thing about Zanizbar, only that I had heard it in passing or as lyrics of a song. In

Tanzania, however, you cannot pass a group of travelers without meeting at least one person who has just come from, or is on their way to Zanzibar. It is as close to paradise as one can get. Zanzibar is a relativity untouched island built upon white coral--resulting in a sand so white that it resembles thick cream.

While Tanzania has enjoyed some amount of modernization, Zanzibar, for better or for worse, has remained simple and blissfully primitive. One could walk for miles along the ever reaching sand bars without a site of civilization. Even the hotels are laced with palm leaves and enforced with cheap white plaster which helps you indulge just a little more into an the island paradise.

But forget the beautiful beaches, for Ryan, Zanzibar's notorious

deep sea was the only item of interest. So via email, while roaming the Serengetti, Ryan designed his stay in Zanzibar to consist of nothing but deep sea and spear fishing. While most couples would welcome the alone time with a day lounging on the beach, almost immediately after setting our bags down Mina and I quickly set out down the beach in search of a dive shop. Fortuitously, we came across Spanish Dancer Divers--a stones throw from our hotel, the Amaan Bungalows.

There is nothing I like more that fresh tar in the morning with my coffee, which is the smell we were welcomed with when we arrived the morning of our dive. Apparently, to repair the holes in the wooden diving boats the crew re-tars them each morning with a hot fire burning underneath the boat. Another first in Africa. Despite being small, rickity and taking on more water than the Titanic, our boat served its purpose and got us to a small coral island off the eastern shore of Zanzibar called Mnemba. The diving was more than I had expected. While we did not descend more than 50 feet, the variety and quantity of fish was unprecedented. It was as though I was taking a bird's eye view into an underwater New York metropolitan.

After a day of incredible diving we arrived back to the beach which was now under water from the rising tide. Swimming back to the steps of our hotel's beach entrance we saw the local fisherman setting sail in their small wooden boats.

As we sat on our hotel's beach front balcony sipping on Tanzanian beer and a local Gin and Honey drink, Ryan arrived looking quite proud of himself--and rightfully so. Over the course of a two hour fight he had bagged himself a metal worthy Wahoo and had arranged for a local ocean-side restaurant to prepare a three course Wahoo feast including carpaccio and jaw dropping steaks. It was the greatest meal of our entire trip.

It is hard to avoid seafood in Zanzibar as we first discovered two days earlier in Stone Town. Stone Town is the "Capital" of Zanzibar and the launching point for the rest of the island. It is a hogpoge of crumbling Portugueseese and Persian buildings, maze-like allys and endless street markets. The most famous market is the tourist fish market. Here visitors to Stone Town meet local fisherman who have laid out hoards of fish and crustacions which is haggled for, cooked to order, and served on paper plates for a unique waterside experience infront of the iconic decaying Portuguese fort. Truthfully, with BBQed lobster tails at $0.50 a pop, I could have been in Fresno during August and still been happy.

Our waterside feast of Wahoo was followed by our most disenchanting experience of the whole trip--Mina's purse was stolen from right underneath us. What made the event more odd was the Masai warrior five feet from our table whose sole purpose was to fend against theft. Perhaps those ten Elephant beers he consumed had impared his abilities as a crime fighter.

Theft and muggings run rampant on this poverty stricken slice of paradise. Formerly part of the communists Tanzania, Zanzibar is riffled with municipal corruption which manifests in the form of bribes, or as they say in Zanzibar, CHAI. For any of my fellow Mexico travelers, bribes should not be novel concept, but when state officials bleed their own citizens dry and leave tourists alone a slight bit of resentment can accumulate and one may feel entitled to wealthy tourist's belongings.

To all Tanzanian bound travelers, I highly recommend resting your feet in the forgetful waters of Zanzibar after a week or two of roughing it on safari. Keep in mind what lies below the surface and you can appreciate the sweat of Zanzibar.