The logistics of preparing a long-term expedition are not a cake-walk. The people organizing the BBPP expedition have spent days trying to organize porters (from a nearby village), spent hours trying to barter and order food and replacement parts, organize volunteers, and figure out paperwork and identification passes for each volunteer. Overall, the BBPP and its employees are preparing for a twenty-person, two-week RAVE expedition, and then a handful of us (four volunteers) are staying an additional two months. In addition to each of these volunteers needing to be fed and house, the porters and the graduate students also need adequate supplies. Needless to say, it’s amazing to watch and I’m thanking my lucky stars that I’m not the one using broken Spanish and hand signals to get this undertaking put together.
Just to give you an idea of the large amount of food that the porters will have to carry up a steep mountain side – think 250 kilos of rice, 150 kilos of beans, 15 kilos of sugar, 30+ tents, 20 sleeping mats, boxes and boxes of tomatoes, and two HUGE bags of onions (50 kilos each). That’s not even the entire food supply; Drew (my direct boss) has to go into town at least one more time to get another load.
It’s amazing the kind of the effort and man power that goes into making this expedition a reality. Every piece of toilet paper, every tent, and every person needs to climb (or be carried) up the mountain side. Aside from water (which is purified using a filter and iodine tablets), every single piece of clothing and equipment is carried up with us.
Fortunatly, I heeded to BBPP’s advice about packing light…for those of you who read the post about my packing list, I’m literally only carrying the bear essentials. Some are taking even less than me; another volunteer has claimed to be able to pack all of his belongings into a large daypack…we’ll see about that though 
This are just some of the books that I read (pretty much cover to cover) in the six months leading up to my trip. There is no such thing as “too much knowledge”, as long as you recognize that traveling (“the real thin”) will always be a richer, more exciting, and more dynamic experience than any text could convey.
Personally, the more I know about a location, the safer and more prepared I feel. There are many people who would disagree with me; they get more enjoyment from learning as they go. Of course maintaining a fine balance between preparation and on-the-spot cultural education is probably the best way to truly have a succesful traveling experience. Fine art, culture, and history is often better appreciated through reading, research, or a good tour guide. Of-the-cuff experiences such as eating in a local restaurant, being invited into someone’s home, or attending a community function are likely to be unresearched, spur-of-the-moment and split decision experiences.
The hardest part about reading so many different books, was to pick which one would accompany me into the field. Eventually I settled on Africa (lonely planet), because it is an all-encompassing book which covers the first 8 months of my travels.
A close runner-up was First-Time Around the World, although I have to be honest: I didn’t completely mesh with the book. At one point, it suggests eating food off other people’s plates (in a pizza restaurant) or sleeping on park benches to avoid paying accomodation fees. I honestly feel that if a backpacker regularly follows this advice, you are verging on the edge of being a homeless burden on the society that you are visiting. If you don’t have enough money to at least cover your food and accomodation expenses, you are hurting local restaurant business or crowding beautiful parks…all because you want a “cultural” experience. Not to mention, you are probably exacerbating negative impressions of Western culture (or wherever it is that you hail from).
Ok, stepping off the soap box
Anyway, the point is: For me, research is the key to my travel happiness. I had to invest a lot of time and energy to at least feel like I had an elementary understanding of the history, culture, and environment of the countries on my itinerary. Properly planning pre-trip self-education is vital to getting the most out of your trip!
This last summer, a small group of my friends (all girls, by the way) decided to climb up Mount Wittenburg in the New York Catskills. Preparing for our adventure the night before, the only Wittenburg veteran quickly assured us that it was a “fun walk”, “not very hard”, and rounded off the conversation by concluding that “if I can do it…so can you guys!”
Morning dawns, and we’re all in various states of excitement. I, myself, am fairly excited; the prospect of nature is generally appealing to me. Most of all, I know I will have cell phone service at the very top and any modern-day cell phone addict knows that dead zones (such as the one I had been staying in for at least three days) will drive one to do absolutely crazy things. Like climb a mountain.
Driving to the trail, spirits are high. Myself and a good friend (we’ll call her MBA…she’s structured, analytical, and generally in much better shape than the rest of us combined) are about a 9 (on an excitement scale of 10). A third member of the tribe, Charlotte (as in Charlotte from the Sex and the City) is nervously pulling on her Vera Bradley bag and wondering aloud if wearing designer jeans is the best idea. A fourth friend, the Veteran (and local), is going mostly because the third person on our expert mountain climbing team would do just about anything to avoid nature in general.
We navigate the car into the parking lot and worry about the parking costs (no one is there – should we pay? Should we leave? What on Earth will happen if we don’t pay this $5 fee?!??!?), and take some obligatory facebook pictures. We gasp; the trail begins with a beautiful log bridge spanning an equally dazzling and clear mountain stream. More facebook pictures are taken. We climb a few steps and start to look out for the trail notebook; the notebook each group signs to ensure that no one gets lost on the trail overnight. We don’t immediately see it, but that’s OK. Life is good. Sunlight dances through the trees. We walk a few more steps. More facebook pictures.
And then the first sign of trouble: “Can we take a break?” says Charlotte…Veteran agrees. Pep-talks ensue. MBA looks a little ruffled but it’s all good. We keep walking. Another break.
Soon we make a pact that I will climb ahead and wait for Veteran and Charlotte to catch up (MBA chasing them up from the rear), and that we can rest at each one of these points. This works…for some time. We reach the sign-in book. Hurrah! We’ve finally made it to the “official” trailhead. Adrenaline rushes, and we are motivated to continue. We decide: No more turning back.
Another hour passes. I run ahead. They catch up. Facebook pictures are periodically taken. Having packed a million granola bars, I thoughtfully chew them on our various breaks…part of me wonders why no one else is eating either. Never mind, they must have food – who would leave on a day-long hike without it?
Pretty soon we start to look for the half-way marker. Apparently there is a sign which should point us in the right direction and according to Veteran, it can’t be far off. I squint my eyes trying to see ahead. After a couple of false alarms, even MBA is telling me that I’m mistaking weird-looking trees for the sign.
The first one to go is Charlotte. First it’s a few words here and there (mostly pertaining to what exactly the mountain could do with itself, if it were given a choice), but soon it’s a downright mutiny! “Enough!” says MBA: “We’re too far up to stop now…we’re getting our girl’s trip photo-op or else!”
Good. We’re in for the long haul. I start to walk ahead – the stop and go pace is tedious. I soon walk out of hearing range, but I imagine the beautiful mountain top that awaits me and it propels me forward. I climb, and climb, and climb. But it just keeps going. Where the hell is the top of this mountain? I run last-night’s conversations through my head, trying to remember specifically what Veteran mentioned about the trail, but a lot of what she said seems wrong. The trail gets pretty rough. The last hour involves at least five areas where I literally have to scramble up the rockface to get to the next segment of the trail. A few times, I only know where the trail is because of the markers. Clearly this isn’t hiked often.
Finally, after four and a half hours I notice the vegetation getting thinner and shorter. I round a corner, and I yell with joy about the beautiful view stretching out beneath my eyes. A bright blue sky is dotted with clouds, whose shadows play over the lush, green landscape in all directions. The top of the mountain is a worn, grassy area – almost like three large, flat steps that lead down to the edge, where rocks plunge into the forest below. Two large birds of prey fly over my head. There is no sound except for the wind. The sun shines on my face, and I am happy. That is, until I am attacked by dozens, if not hundreds, of little flies.
Flies? On a mountain top? How and why are they here? It’s a mystery to me. All I know is that hiking through the forest, they were no problem. They are only on this sunlit platform, exactly where I had planned to nap the time away until the rest of the group got there. Unable to take the flies, I walk back into the forest. I sit on stone for a while. It gets to be too uncomfortable, so I move. I walk a little further down. Then back up to see the view. Then back down to get away from the flies. Forty minutes goes by. An hour goes by. Could I have really been that far ahead of them? Where are they?
I call their names. No answer. I walk further down. I walk so far down that I’m about twenty minutes from the top. Of course they have no cell phone signal. And my phone is dying; I can’t even waste the time by chit chatting.
Finally, I call out and I get a reply. It’s the girls – they yell out and ask whether I’m at the top. I answer “no, but I’m close”. Silence. They slowly come into view. It’s not a pretty picture. Charlotte is cursing like a sailor. I never would have guessed it, but coming in at 100 pounds, she is one feisty girl! The Veteran is wishing evil on pretty much the entire New York mountain range and looking a little guilty about last night’s amnesia-like predictions of how our walk would go. MBA is looking professionally irritated; great for business, extremely funny in this situation. Trying not to laugh at the picture we paint, I don’t mention the flies. I furtively hope that they are perhaps an imagination; maybe altitude sickness manifested in a strangely real way.
Alas, altitude sickness is not to blame: the flies are everywhere. EVERYWHERE. This is not good.
Everyone retreats to their corner of the mountain top and recovers. Out come the cell phones. But no food. Everyone’s hungry, except for me. I’m just sick of my granola bars. We take more facebook pictures. We climbed all this way, we at least want decent pictures to show for it. I figure out the self-timer on my camera and prop it up using my fleece sweater. The picture looks great; we all check it for double-chins, bad smiles, closed eyes, bad hair. Everyone is happy with it.
Having spent less than fifteen minutes at the top, we gather our items together, happy to be leaving the cursed mountain. Charlotte gets happier and happier the more we walk. She literally has a bounce in her step. We call dibs on who gets the first hot shower. The happier Charlotte gets, the more upset Veteran is. She hurt her hip climbing up, and walking down is tough. We slow down. Light seems to be fighting to peak through the thick canopy, and it starts to get dark. Whispers about staying in the forest overnight echo in our minds.
Gradually, we start to see familiar objects. If only we make it to the sign-in post, we will be just a ten minute walk from the car. Finally, we see it. There are no words in the English vocabulary that can fully describe the joy we all feel. Hobbling down the last few steps, cursing the brown stream with the ugly wooden bridge, and collapsing in the car, we all agree: No More Hiking. Ever.
Driving home we console ourselves with the thought that we at least got lots of good memories captured on film. That was, until I realize that my fleece sweater-turned-camera stand in fact blockes out half of our only group picture.
In total, we hiked eight and a half hours. Although we absolutely hated, hated, hated the entirety of the day, it was the most memorable day of the trip.
In the words of Charlotte; “Remind me to never marry a mountain man”.
I LOVE German butcher shops. I don’t care what anyone says – they are absolutely fantastic. While in Germany with my boyfriend, I took him to a butcher shop. The goal: to buy meat for a picnic.
Inside the family-run shop, thick silver hooks speared meat hanging in glass-door refrigerators. A little chilled, I glanced over our options: a dozen varieties of sausages, rabbit, pork, duck, chicken, and cow. Looking over my grandmother-assigned shopping list I noted the items needed: met (a ground beef/pork/onion mixture eaten raw on bread) and ground beef. The rest was ours to choose.
Raw meat. To eat. Uncooked. To be honest, I absolutely love met. But my boyfriend? A worried crease on his forehead told me exactly what he thought about the whole business.
Tapping my foot to the sound of a hidden employee chopping meat, I wondered if this kind of butcher shop would even be popular in the United States. Meat is often so packaged: perfect, blood-drained, and completely detached from the reality of what it really is: a dead animal. Now, I love eating steaks just as much as the next person. However, having the reality dangling on a silver hook in a storefront is not exactly appetizing. Especially when the ground beef is literally ground right in front of your eyes (as occurred on this occasion).
Anyway, dead carcass or not, I was excited to dig into our spoils. Spreading the met over a butter-covered broettchen, I offered my boyfriend a taste. Taking a smaller-than-usual bite, he chewed thoughtfully and I was delighted to see that his response was positive. Immediately he set about organizing two slices for himself, which were swallowed before they even really existed. Raw or not, it was a delicious meal.
So, I guess the lesson of the story is: even if it looks and sounds completely and utterly disgusting, it might turn out to be absolutely delicious. I should probably make this my mantra for the upcoming months. If the locals eat it, I can eat it too!
Hey Guys,
Just a little update: Tomorrow I’m leaving on the start of my 2 1/2 month volunteer position/expedition on Bioko Island. I’m very excited, nervous, and curious about the experiences I will be having there. I know that it will be an amazing opportunity – the people are wonderful, the staff has been so helpful, and the biology is one-of-a-kind. Hopefully I can share this with all of you, and hopefully my pictures and words will at least partially convey how wonderful this trip will be.
During the time I will have very limited internet access. I have written several posts about my time in Germany, which will be posting sporatically…so keep checking back if you’re interested in that. Also, it has been discussed that we (the four volunteers) will take turns hiking to a nearby village and catching a ride to the research station where we can take a night to read emails and take a hot shower.
Tomorrow will be pretty unique because we will have a chance to see the island from an ocean-perspective. Apparently the scenery is absolutely stupendous. To get to the southern end of the island, we will be transported on a large, corporate barge/ship, and then ferried to the beach on smaller boats. The beaches aren’t great landing sites, so we will likely be wading up onto dry land ourselves, and then work in a team to slowly unload piles and piles of gear and food.
Anyway, I love, love, love reading all of your encouraging comments and questions…so leave me something to read for the few days when I can extract myself from the jungle. I hope everyone is having a fantastic new year – see you in a few weeks
~Kim
In the next few months I will be traveling through much of southern and eastern Africa, and like any traveler, I have a wish list for my trip. Rather than listing every single tourist attraction I’d like to see, this is a list of personals feats - both mental and physical. After all, traveling isn’t about where you are…but how you change and what you learn, because of it.
1) Correctly identify at least one species of animal during my stay.
2) Learn how to play traditional music – doesn’t matter where, as long as it’s authentic and not a (total) tourist trap!
3) Witness the World Cup in South Africa…and actually learn something about football!
4) Learn how to cook local foods…and be able to *try* and do it again at home (in Florida!).
5) Travel by myself, successfully!
6) Stop at a random town, and just look around.
7) Resist the urge to do adventure sports…expect for scuba diving, that is!
8) Climb a big scary mountain. Preferably something that takes several days. The longer it takes, the harder it is….right?
9) Become more sure of myself!
10) Eat everything without asking what it is beforehand.
11) Volunteer through the WWOOF program at an orphanage…away from internet access and modern day convenience.
12) Camp…in the wild…and stay positive about it (Hello, Equatorial Guinea).
13) Pretend like I actually know what’s going on at border checkpoints, and therefore avoid unnecessary trouble.
14) Not be scared to talk to people and meet people.
15) Accept help from strangers, and (hopefully) not become too jaded by a few bad incidents.
16) Not calling family too much – nothing spurs homesickness like talking everyday to people at home.
17) Finish the ENTIRE trip…without ending early.
18) HAVE FUN!
I’m sure there will be moments when I wonder why the heck I’m traveling alone, with only four sets of clothing, and in a country seven or eight time zones away. This list will help remind me that life isn’t, in fact, as bad as it may seem.
Any of these strike a chord with you guys? I’d be interested to know what you think!
Arriving in Equatorial Guinea has been surreal; the idea that I’m in Africa hasn’t even sunk in yet. Flying over Africa was probably my coolest flying experience yet. I don’t know if it was the allure of the “dark continent”, the fact that it seemed to be all desert, or just my jet lag…either way, it was really fun to watch it roll away underneath us.
Mandatory travel picture: my first view of Africa.
Quite honestly, I’ve spent most of my time on the MEGI compound which is just like a micro-copy of an upper-class Floridian or Texas community; all the American comforts stuffed into a small, guarded community. Holding about thirty to fifty Exxon Mobile expats, the compound is surrounded mostly by a guarded, thick, cement wall and barbed wire. Although I won’t be able to walk around the outside of the compound, I have been told that locals do live in the surrounding area; I have certainly been hearing them usher in the New Year with all-night singing and (presumably) dancing. Unfortunately, drinking is a problem here, and many of the people seem to think that the locals will probably celebrate the New Year by being continuously intoxicated until the 3rd of the year. In fact, this was the cause behind a driving ban which started at 10pm last night (New Year’s Eve), for all people except those with applicable permits. While driving to an expat event today I realized that we were literally the only car on the road, and upon further questioning, I found out that the driving ban was also in effect for today.
It’s difficult to see what is around the compound. Near our tents (which are situated in the back corner of the community), there is a break in the cement wall, but other than apartment buildings and (one of) the President’s houses, there is not much to see. It’s also difficult for me to make any conclusions about the Malabo population since the road from the airport to our compound (and into the Malabo city center) has a lot of walls or vegetation, blocking the view.
The MEGI compound isn’t the only of its kind. Many of the larger hotels and embassies have guarded entrances, and today I got to visit the Marathon compound which is even more American than its MEGI counterpart. Visiting Marathon was like visiting a high-class American resort; the kind that I would never be able to afford, even in my wildest dreams. A clear, blue clubhouse pool overlooks the harbor and bay area of the island. Lush vegetation is managed within the compound and borders the outer edges, and wives and daughters of expats sunbathe by the pool. Despite working for differing oil corporations, many expats seem to know each other, and they even organize local events with each other. The expats are extremely friendly to us, and to each other; it’s truly a unique environment to experience.
As far as I can tell, Malabo is not unsafe, per se, as the main issue about walking off alone is robbery (instead of worse alternatives such as assault, etc.). I have yet to decide whether the individuals guarding compounds in this area are just for show, or if they are truly guarding against some menacing, unseen threat. As far as I can tell, they are unarmed – so I don’t really know what they would do if someone just didn’t abide by their request for ID, etc.
Anyway, my first impressions of Equatorial Guinea have been interesting. I am hesitant to elaborate further because: (1) I’ve only been in the country for less than two days and it would be foolish to make any conclusions, and (2) evaluation of the country and my political/human rights observations are better left until after I leave. For now, the blog will focus on my personal experiences camping and hiking through the southern end of the island.
My two nights in a tent have been surprisingly comfortable. For now, I have the luxury of having a four person tent all to myself, and my trusty sleeping bag and blow-up camping pillow have been excellent replacements for my American bedding comforts. Other than the heat, there are no discomforts – not even a single bug bite…yet.
Anyway, for now I’m in Malabo until the 6th, when we are starting our expedition. Like I mentioned before, internet access will be limited or non-existent (most likely the former). I’ll keep posting when I can, and hopefully I’ll have lots of funny, interesting, and touching stories to share when I come back out of the jungle!
P.S. Loading pictures is ridiculously slow…I’ll try again later, but for now my beautiful words will have to suffice
Hey Guys!
A really, really quick note: I got into Equatorial Guinea just fine but internet will be super, super limited. So, if I don’t post much, I haven’t abandoned ship, I’m just trekking in the jungle!
Happy travels and hopefully I’ll be able to post again soon!
Kim
Hey Everyone!!!
Less than 48 hours until I’m on a plane to Equatorial Guinea, and I am definitely getting nervous (in a good way) in anticipation of the unknown. I’m a little miffed that I have to be at the airport at 4:30am for a timely security check…but it’s all in the name of good travel!
Last night I used google maps to look up pictures of the various areas I should be going; they didn’t really do anything to satisfy my curiosity. My image of the country is completely based on what I’ve been able to piece together from my Lonely Planet travel guide, an informative history novel, and online forums. For the first time in my life, I actually feel like I am truly traveling into the unknown. Having lived and traveled around Europe, there is not much that surprises me here. It’s not that Western Europe is boring – far from it – it’s that I can usually get along very well knowing English and German. Many locals come equipped with a Hilton, McDonalds, and Woolworths (or some similar alternative). Accommodation, a greasy burger, and cheap, synthetic wool tights are sometimes an adventure to find, but are nevertheless available. Perhaps my perception of Equatorial Guinea is completely off, but as far as I can tell, it will be the most different country/culture/place I will ever have visited up to this point.
For those of you who totally clueless as to where Equatorial Guinea is (and what I’m doing there), take a look at the google map: the cute little pointers/bubble-thingies indicate what city I will fly into and where (I believe) my “home base” is, when I work for an American researcher to complete a census of the island’s jungle/terrain. The job is organized through the BBPP, approximately 3 months long and will involve camping, trekking, and a fair amount of monkeys, turtles, and awesomeness. Internet access will be limited, but I plan on writing about my travels as I go and uploading them onto the blog when I can. If you want more information about the BBPP, and doing paid volunteerism with them, you can check out their website: www.bioko.org. For a really, really neat report on Equatorial Guinea and the BBPP, read the national geographic article or watch a short video, also put together by the National Geographic!
Finally, I want to say “thanks and cheers” to all of the people in Erfelden, Germany who kept me well fed, warm, and busy during my lovely twelve-day stay there. It was WONDERFUL to see/meet all of you! Special thanks to Mona for giving me music for my ipod; my ears are very thankful.
Alrighty – time to go grab some lunch/dinner. Spoiling myself by staying at a five-star hotel in Frankfurt for the last night of my stay…but am not too excited about the burger and steak dinner offerings.
Only a few days until I touch down on my third continent!!!
The Felsenmeer is a graveyard of enormous boulders, some entering the realm of small-house sized. Local legend has it that two giants were quarreling and decided to end the fight by flinging rocks at each other, leaving behind a massive battlefield of stone. A more plausible explanation of the giant sea of granite is the most recent ice age
Either way, you can venture down to the bottom of the mountain and visit the stream where Siegfried, the dragen slayer, is said to have been murdered by his rival, Hagen. If that´s not your fancy, goggle at others trying to scale slippery rock faces.
Situated in the UNESCO Odenwald (a larger area in South-Central Germany), the Felsenmeer is surrounded by hundreds of kilometers of trails, castles, and superb wildlife. Climbing up and over the boulders is a thrill, regardless of the season. Make sure to look out for evidence of Roman occupation; evidence of quarrying marks many boulders. Most interestingly, an abandoned Roman piller (HUGE by the way) lies forgotten on the side of the main trail. Apparently, the pillar managed to stay in one piece for almost a thousand years. However, in 1938, a bonfire (intelligently placed directly next to the pillar) heated the stone to the point where the lower portion broke off.
Visiting on a day trip, from Frankfurt is super easy. The two hour drive takes you through pristine German countryside, with many good restaurants and photo-ops on the way. A lot of the information (online) is in German, however, a central tourist office (ready to help with reservations and trip planning for the entire Odenwald) is open year-round Monday-Friday (10am-4pm) and weekends (11am-2pm). The tourist office is located in Erbach (address: Marktplatz 1, 6477 Erbach), and can be reached by telephone (06062 9433-0), email (odenwald@oreg.de), or online (www.oreg.de – site in German). Longer trips can be arranged – many excellent hotels, of all budget levels, are operating in the area.
One establishment which I can recommend is the Kuraple Kreuzhof (Lautertal, Germany, website: www.kuraple.de). A restaurant and guesthouse, it´s located in the middle of the Odenwald, a perfect home-base for your exploration, or at the very least, a place to get a hot schnitzel and good beer at the end of a long hike.
