Isle of Skye

"Beautiful desolation" might be the term to describe the Isle of Skye. Very little grows well there. They say that when the Vikings arrived, some 1200 years ago, there were no trees on the island. In fact, most of the relatively few trees growing there now were imported from North America in the 18th and 19th centuries. There is very little topsoil above the bedrock, so what grows is mostly grasses. The thousands of sheep and cattle keep that well-trimmed in low areas. Still the mountains and hills, along with the streams and lochs, combine to make for a stunning landscape, somewhat reminiscent of parts of Wyoming or Montana.

We had a bit of trouble appreciating the beauty because of the weather. It is not unusual to have rain on Skye. Today we had plenty, along with a strong wind the played havoc with our umbrellas. Low clouds and limited visibility dampened our enjoyment, but just a little.

On the way to Skye, while the weather was still holding off, our bus made a rest stop at Glenmoriston where we got views of a very old stone bridge,

as well as a very nice waterfall,

and an ancient stone circle.

A second stop allowed us a view of Eileen Donan Castle. Eileen Donan is Gaelic for Island Donan, which is in Loch Halsh and named for St. Donan, a 6th century missionary bishop who converted many Scots to Christianity.

The first castle was built here in the 13th century to protect the area from the Vikings who had been settled on Skye for 500 years already by that time. The castle was expanded many times over the centuries. But during the Jacobite in 1719 the walls were bombarded with cannonballs and the castle was a ruin. A wealthy Scot bought the island in 1911 and spent 20 years restoring it to become the tourist attraction it is today. But our tour did not include admission.

We enjoyed lunch in Portree, despite the fact that the rain had begun by then. The town is a scenic fishing village that now appears to make most of its fortune from tourists.

From Portree we drove a loop around the northeastern part of the island, making several photo stops. But the photos were mostly grey skies and clouds. A longer stop was at the Museum of Island Life, an outdoor museum featuring thatched-roofed buildings from earlier eras. It would have been interesting, but we got soaked just walking to the restrooms, so took shelter back on the bus.

Some of the group paid money to feed the "coos" at this stop. But having lived most of our lives in Iowa, we had experienced cows before and didn't feel the need to pay for the opportunity.

Back in Inverness we enjoyed a good meal at a local pub before retiring for the night.

Highland Tour

We had booked a 3-day tour, but the company canceled at the last minute and re-booked us with another company (which we suspect has the same owner). But the new company's tour departs from Edinburgh rather than Glasgow. So they sent a taxi to collect us from Glasgow and deliver us to the first tour stop. There was some initial confusion finding the right taxi, and traffic caused some delay, but we did manage to meet our bus. I'm glad I bought the UK SIM card for my phone!

That first stop was the Kelpies monument near Falkirk, Scotland, which celebrates the mythical "super horses" of Scottish legend, as well as the work horses that long sustained Scottish agriculture and industry before the age of steam. Each head is 100' high and weighs more than 300 tons.

As our 50+ passenger bus traveled into the highlands, some wondered why passing cars were honking as they went by. The image on the back of the bus explains it.

We drove through agricultural areas, pine forests, and a number of quaint villages before reaching the actual highlands. We had a lunch stop in one such village where we found a local bakery that supplied warm cheese pies, sort of like pasties, that were a good value.

The land here explains why Scotland has relatively few people, and more sheep than humans. But it is beautiful, nevertheless. The mountains and the lochs form the narrow glens in which Scottish culture thrives.

At Glenfinnan we arrived just in time to see the Harry Potter train pass over the viaduct. This is the same train and locale used in the movies for the Hogwarts Express scenes, except that the steam locomotive is not the antique used in the films. The train only passes twice each day, so quite a crowd gathered to get the view.

Also at Glenfinnan is monument to Scottish independence in 1746. The spirit of independence remains strong today. We see Scottish flags everywhere, but almost never a Union Jack.

On the other hand, we stopped briefly at a monument to the Royal Marine Commandos, a unit formed during WW II to get behind enemy lines and disrupt critical infrastructure. Based and trained in the highlands, this unit had an understandably high casualty rate. It remains the elite of the United Kingdom's military.

We continued along the shore of Loch Ness (no monsters in sight) to Inverness. Our B&B, arranged by our original tour company, is in a very old house and quite nice. We walked into the city center and had a very average Italian meal before turning in for the night.

Glascow

After on time flights we arrived at Edinburgh, Scotland airport, and with minimum difficulty found the shuttle bus to Glasgow. Our hotel for the night was just across the street from the bus depot, and granted us an early check in.

Glasgow's main pedestrian street, Buchanan Street, began just a couple of blocks away. We followed the Rick Steves guide to see the main sites, while the sky above us alternated between sunshine and rain.

Highlights of the area include "Nelson Mandela Square," which was named when Mandela was still in prison and the South African consulate was on that street. Thus, any mail delivered to the consulate had to be addressed with the name of the famous prisoner. A pretty clever jab!

Another interesting site was the museum of modern art, featuring traffic cones on an old equestrian statue, looking like dunce caps.

With jet lag overtaking us and our feet getting tired, we entered a well-preserved old building that has been repurposed into a Witherspoons -- a chain pub. The place was packed and it was hard to get a place to sit. The beer was cheap, but unfortunately, one gets what one pays for. It wasn't very good.

Somewhat refreshed, we walked to a very good Indian restaurant and had a very good meal. But once back at the hotel, it was nearly impossible for either of us to stay awake. We crashed before 8 p.m.

Stellenbosch

​Yesterday’s program was the optional tour to the Stellenbosch wine region. 

On the way, we passed acres of townships — basic houses built primarily for black citizens after the apartheid regime collapsed and Mandela became president. Previously, blacks could not legally own property and rents were exploitative. In these areas, the homes and the lots on which they are built are owned by the residents. 

It sounds like a good plan, but the supply of such housing is far less than the demand. Thus, squatter camps have appeared around the townships, as well. These strain public services, lack sanitation, and suffer fires from illegal electrical hookups. 

Our tour leader had the bus stop in front of one of the township homes and told us that he had been born in that house. Furthermore, his mother still lives there. We could tell that he was wrestling with the decision, but he finally got out and rattled the lock on the gate to the yard.

It was still early, and Mom was still in her bathrobe, but she came to the door and welcomed our whole group into her modest home. We took no photos, but got an insight into how people live in these places. 

Stellenbosch is very much a tourist town. Many old Cape-Dutch buildings are well preserved.

We visited the large Dutch Reformed Church, which has no altar, but an enormous pulpit. 

At the first winery we got the standard tour, then lunch. The “tasting” was full glasses of about 6 different wines, so we were feeling pretty happy when we left.

At the second winery there was no tour, but still multiple full glasses. The last red wine in the series was very good, but also the most expensive at over $100 a bottle. Nevertheless a couple of our fellow travelers felt compelled to buy a bottle and share it with the group — and then another. It became a party. When we got back to the hotel, we fell immediately to sleep. 

This morning, the weather was finally clear enough for the cable car on Table Mountain to operate. Our group was among the first couple of cars to go up. 

The views on the way up and on the way down were pretty good, but at the top we were in cloud with a cold, damp wind. I’m sure it would have been very pleasant in better weather. 

Because our homeward flight is not until this evening, we returned to the Waterfront area for lunch and afternoon diversion. We enjoyed the “burger & beer” special on a sunny outdoor deck overlooking the harbor. Then we found where the harbor seals hang out, safely away from the tourists. 

Good Hope

​Today’s excursion took us out of Cape Town proper and into the “greater cape,” as it were. 

The bus took us south along the west coastline of the Cape. It is rugged and rocky and beautiful. 

The Atlantic Ocean pounds the shore and the wind is relentless. Waves of rain squalls bring intermittent showers that can be seen approaching across the water. 

At Cape Point there is a funicular up the hill to the old lighthouse, but wasn’t working. Instead, a small shuttle bus took tourists up an incredibly narrow road to where it could just barely turn around. 

From there, we climbed 60 or 70 stone steps to the top.

The lighthouse was built in 1860 and operated for 59 years. But it was largely useless because it is shrouded in clouds more than half the days of the year — a point brought home in 1911 when a passenger steamer hit a reef just off shore. 

Down at shore level we reached the actual Cape Point. In school we learned that the Cape of Good Hope is the southern tip of Africa, but they lied. That point is Cape Agulhas, roughly 100 miles to the southeast. So the signs here are careful to say, “the most southwestern point of the African continent.” Truth in advertising?

Still, the Cape of Good Hope was historically the rough spot for ships to get around. So much so that the first explorers here named it “Cape of Storms” and the king of Portugal renamed it for better marketing. There are more than 700 shipwrecks recorded here over the centuries since Bartolomeu Dias arrived here in 1488. 

We continued up the east coast of the Cape and had a very filling lunch in the little tourist burg of Simon’s Town. Then we doubled back a few miles to Boulders Beach where a flock of endangered African Penguins are protected by the South African National Parks Service. 

The protection consists of wooden walkways that allow hundreds of ticketed tourists to walk down to the beach and get close to the birds without actually stepping on their sand. 

After waiting in a long ticket line, the rain and wind began just about the time we finally got to the penguins. 

Though they were very cute, we weren’t inclined to get soaked watching them. So we took a couple pictures and headed for someplace dry. 

Back in Cape Town, we visited an old church that has been transformed into “The District Six Museum.” Our tour leader struggled to explain the significance in a coherent manner. And the museum itself had several themes going, all revolving around the struggle against apartheid. 

But the gist is that some 60,000 black and “colored” people were displaced from their homes in this neighborhood in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s, often with little more than a suitcase. Their homes were destroyed and they were forbidden to even be in the area without a work pass. Only “whites” were allowed to stay. 

While District Six was far from the only place where this occurred — it was repeated across South Africa — it was the catalyst for the anti-apartheid movement. 

Cape Town

​Another travel day yesterday. We began with a presentation by a local historian on the life and travels of David Livingstone. 

Then we had time to finish last minute packing before getting on our bus to the airport where we had to bid farewell to our tour leader, “Star.” The flight to Cape Town for the post trip was smooth. 

The tour leader for our post trip, Thabiso, met us at the airport but did not make a very good first impression there or in the orientation briefing at the hotel. We’re trying to reserve judgement, because our OAT trip leaders have almost always been excellent. 

This morning we drove to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, a huge green space featuring about 9000 species of plants and birds. A number of these are unique to the Cape area. It was a windy, misty walk. But we were fortunate in that the torrential downpour came just as we were finishing in the gift shop. 

Our driver took us on a tour of downtown Cape Town with our tour leader providing commentary and pointing out buildings of interest. 

A stop on the way was at Truth Coffee, which is often ranked among the top coffee shops in the world (the best in the world, according to our tour leader, but that’s arguable).

The shop has a “steam punk” theme that extends to the attire of the employees. It’s a neat place, but overpriced. Nevertheless, most lined up for coffee and pastries. And it became clear that guides and drivers get free coffee in return for bringing groups in. 

Most of the group took the option of being dropped off at the Waterfront. We stayed dry by walking among the trendy shops in the indoor market (a converted warehouse). When the rain stopped, we ventured out toward the Clock Tower with hundreds of other tourists.

Life-sized statue of Mandela in the exact spot where he gave a speech on the day of his release from Robben Island Prison, outside his museum.

As the rain held off, set out walking to the Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu museums that had been suggested by our tour leader. He neglected to mention that these are both closed on Sundays. The rain did not hold off entirely, so we had to seek shelter in shops a couple times. It became a 3 mile walk back to the hotel. But we saw lots of Cape Town, including some neighborhoods we wouldn’t want to visit after dark. 

After some R&R at the hotel, we took the hotel shuttle back to the Waterfront area to find a dinner spot. We had an excellent meal of Maylasian curry and enjoyed a lot of people watching as we ate in the huge food court. 

Victoria Falls

​Yesterday was a long travel day. First, three hours on a chilly morning drive in an open game vehicle on unimproved roads through the bush to the airstrip. 

On the way, the drivers had to stop and clear a tree that had been pushed down by an elephant, and was blocking the road. 

And when we arrived at the airstrip our driver had to pull onto the runway to chase a herd of zebra off so that the plane could land. Then another hour flight in a Cessna Caravan. Interestingly, today both pilots were young women— and ours made one of the smoothest, most perfect landings I’ve seen in a while. Great that there are such opportunities for women in Africa! Finally, an hour bus ride followed by a lengthy border crossing (we’re back in Zimbabwe again) and another bus ride to our hotel.

Last evening we had our typical OAT “home-hosted meal.” A taxi delivered us to a modest house in the old township area. In colonial times, black residents were forced to live here, regardless of their economic status. So some homes here are quite nice, and others are shacks. 

We were met at the door by a very large woman who introduced herself. But when we had trouble pronouncing her name, she told us that her name meant “happy” and that we could just call her that.

The house is home to 3 generations: Happy, her mother, “Gogo” (meaning grandma), and children aged 20, 11, and 6.

We got the grand tour, including the kitchen. The preparation area, sink, and refrigerator were inside, the stove and oven just steps outside under a roofed patio to keep the heat out of the house.

In the kitchen they had set up a display of typical foods, including the tiny dried fish that are considered a luxury item, and the mopane worms that are a significant source of protein in this part of the world. Yes, we each ate one. Dried and roasted to a crisp, they taste like bacon, but with a somewhat uncomfortable crunch. Dinner was good.

This morning we visited Victoria Falls. It’s impossible to get a photo of the whole thing, because it’s a mile wide. 

After 3 very dry years, the rainy season here has been extreme this year. The volume of water going over the falls is at record levels, and the spray can go as high as 500 feet! (The African name for the falls before Livingstone — with typical colonial hubris — renamed them after his queen, translates as “the smoke that thunders.”)

The cloud of spray creates its own microclimate, so the surrounding area is a dense rainforest in the midst of a desert. Even though we were issued raincoats, we were well soaked by the nearly constant heavy rainfall. At the exit, I literally had to wring out my socks before we could walk on! It took all afternoon for my shoes to dry out in the sun. 

Most of the group returned to the hotel by bus, but we wanted to walk over the famous 1885 iron bridge over the Zambezi River gorge, down stream from the Falls. 

It was a short walk to the border post where we got a “bridge pass” without having to have our passports stamped again. Then we walked about a mile to the bridge through the “no man’s land” between nations. 

Neither Zimbabwe nor Zambia feel any need to maintain the road in this liminal space, so we got splattered with muddy water by vehicles passing us on the road. Baboons were playing on the parked semi trucks that were waiting to have their loads inspected by customs, and monkeys foraged in trash cans.

From the bridge, our view of the falls was largely obscured by the heavy mist, but the view of the gorge was quite nice. 

We walked back to the border station and presented our pass, then took a footpath that our tour leader had pointed out to us. It’s primarily used by locals as a shortcut and to avoid walking along the busy road that has only intermittent sidewalks. 

We spent the afternoon reading and relaxing by the hotel pool. Late afternoon we boarded the bus once again and headed up river for a sundown cruise.

At the warf we were greeted by a marimba band. An elephant and several baboons wandered by as we listened to them. We hardly notice anymore. 

The boat was an overgrown pontoon, and they served us a complimentary tropical cocktail and snack as we cruised. 

The snack included a cracker topped with crocodile meat. Tastes like chicken, but tough. 

Back at the hotel we had our farewell dinner on the lawn with a traditional group singing and dancing for us. 

The evening concluded with a show at a nearby theater, for which we paid extra. It was sort of musical theater with a plot based on a traditional story. The dancing was excellent — the dancers obviously classically trained. They also sang very well. But the acting was a bit sketchy at times. A good show, but probably overpriced.