Off to a Far Far Faroe

Quiet morning 

It was a quiet beautiful sunny Copenhagen morning with a breakfast waiting for us below and a cab driver on his way. Travel mornings can be like this having all the pieces of the puzzle fit perfectly together.

A bit of coffee, a danish of course, and run back up to the room for a last minute check and empty of the bladder. The driver arrived spot on time into the hotel lobby holding up a slip of paper with our room number scribed on it to assure we had the correct car. There's no guessing culture in these Scandinavian countries which is a pleasant change from the third world attitude.

Traffic was light so we arrived at KEF (Copenhagen Airport) ahead of schedule. During the drive we told our driver our destination was the Faroe Islands. He let us know all he knew of the Faroe's and left us on the curb with a short but memorable verbal salute, "Enjoy the food"

Our Taxi driver warned us

very odd snacks on Icelander Airline

Our little village of Midvagur

 All airports are now using electronic check in which can be confusing for the baby boomer's travel manerisms but I'm beginning to get the hang of it. Thanks to Angelika, our travel angel, we were upgraded to having free drinks and a meal (odd collection of tastes) on board. The seats were more roomy than I remember other coach seats making the 3 hour flight out to the middle of the North Atlantic quite pleasant.

We approached the Vagar Airport low over the ocean and flew over a velvet green mountain with a top resembling a US Marine's dress hat then over a large lake finally touching down and taxiing to the modern but small terminal. The ground crew rolled the stairs to our exit door, connected and the jostling for deplaning began. Down the stairs into the terminal and using our travel intuition we were waiting together with the other passengers at baggage claim. A woman with a officious announced sans amplification  "I see a number of visitors with passports in their hands. You can put those away because the Faroe Islands are a friendly place" The bags began to slide through the chute. We grabbed ours and true to her word we walked past two officers and the official woman. Before we went through the double doors Sharon asked if she could get her passport stamped. One of the officers said they didn't do that here but maybe a policeman might. What an odd beginning to this island.

lots of sheep

We made our way into the lobby and made our way to the information desk to find a way to our guest house. We had a choice of renting a car which we found none were available, take a bus which we were unsure about finding the Magenta Guest House in the village of Midvagur or take an expensive taxi. Little did we know our taxi ride was only 15 minutes to a remote little town to a building without signage, without a number, and a small note on the door instructing us to enter around back. We followed the directions and entered into an antique emporium entry room with sticky notes welcoming us and letting us know we are in room one. No one was in the house so we retreated to our room. The room was an eight foot by eight foot with a queen size bed shoved into a corner to make room for the sink to supplement the down the hall tub, shower, and toilet for the five additional guest quarters. The room's ceiling height dropped on a sideways angle starting at seven feet deminishing to three feet on Sharon's side of the bed. When together in the room it forced us to slide sideways like a penguin.

scary steep cliffs

The weather being a nice 55 degrees, partly cloudy, we decided to take a walk around this small town. Following the pavement  up some hills we found a grocery with a small coffee shop hosting a war museum attached to the strip center. After scoping out the nicely stocked store we stopped for a couple of coffee drinks and a piece of cake.  The pleasant aged woman suggested we take a walk along the islands largest lake where at the end there was a waterfall. So we took her suggestion and began the walk that turned into quite a hike up to that mountain that we flew over and as I described above. Since it stays light like late afternoon until midnight it was hard to say how far we hiked but I'll guess six miles round trip over sheep filled hills, mind you we had not taken any provisions, not even water... Along the way we met a few friendly elderly couples, surprised by their hearty fortitude, we were given a box of juice and some chocolate truffles,  so it was a pleasant though tiring journey, that started as a simple "walk." Now on our way back, we had worked up a vicious hunger. There weren't any restaurants we discovered until we encountered an Asian Food Truck in a bank parking lot  a couple blocks from our guest house. We had returned to our room but still no one around so we lifted our starving bodies from bed and walked to the Asian discovery. We ordered unfamiliar to go boxes and returned to the formal dining tables of our inn's downstairs common area. The meal was filling but the taste was less than desirable. We took baths and retreated once again to our suite and passed out from an exhausting day.

Next morning I went downstairs at 7:30 AM for some coffee and once again I discovered no one around so I sat looking at the lush green hill sides the one that we walked the day before wishing I had a cup of coffee. About a half hour later a very slender mid forties woman with straight black hair entered the room with boxes and other provisions. I greeted her with "good morning" but she half smiled without pause. She went from the kitchen to the formal dining room a number of times without addressing me or acknowledging my presence I thought maybe she might be mute. I discharged any further attempt to communicate thus avoiding an embarrassing situation. Sharon came downstairs and finally the mystery woman began to speak. I think she was feeling guilty for being a bit late plus I didn't know breakfast was usually set for 8AM after all t
he non existent concierge/proprietor was missing in action yesterday.

Soon we were talking with Diana and I told her my dilemma about no rental cars available and she confirmed that there is a shortage because of the large influx of tourists now. I asked if I could use her phone to call a few agencies in hopes of a cancellation. The first two companies chuckled when I asked for an available car but on the last call the women suggested I call a man who might have something. So I called Ken at "Make Travel". He answered with a friendly cheerful voice so I unloaded on him my desperate need for a car...any car. He asked how long and I said a week but a few days will due. He said it was my lucky day because someone turned in a car this morning but I would have to return it four days later. I couldn't hold back my excitement. He said meet him at the front door of the airport and we will do the deal without going through a rental agency thus saving me 400 kr. which is about $75. Diana offered to drive me to the airport at 11AM. Sharon and I waited at the front door of the nearly deserted terminal when the new Ford Focus pulled up with Ken and the paperwork. Within minutes Sharon and I were off to explore of slender roadways and endless tunnels of the Faroe Islands.

Death Drop 2020

Sharon researched "If you had one last thing to see or do in Copenhagen". Options included viewing a movie in an art nouveau theater, catching the latest opera, or visit a 175 year old amusement park. Our simple minds chose Tivoli Gardens which turned out to be more than a carney driven bastion  of entertainment. Yes there are thrill rides for those seeking to test their strength from experiencing  motion sickness but also very nice restaurants, beer gardens, games and stage shows all set into a beautifully landscaped quaint atmosphere. This is a bit like Disneyland but in a more simple joyful setting.

I was angling Sharon to join me on a roller coaster ride. If you know Sharon you also realize her propensity for motion sickness is swift so that suggestion was definitely ruled out...so was the folks tethered to the tower spinning around 500' in the air. My last plea was the Drop of Death where you were in a secured seat like the space shuttle then hoisted 2000 ft. in the air where you have a beautiful view of the city for 30 seconds before the world is pulled out from under you, The free fall was an exhilarating success without Sharon spraying the audience below.  Admittedly, it's not bungee jumping from a bridge in South Africa but the challenge made Sharon a stronger person.

The sky turned dark ('ish, after all it was 11 pm) and we walked the winding pathways toward the exit catching a light show and a horse race before leaving the park via a quiet stroll down the streets of Copenhagen. We needed to return back to our room to prepare for the next day travel to the Faroe Islands.

Copenhagen...Happiness, one of the same.

The first day on a long journey is the toughest. Anticipation, apprehension, and general exhaustion from following rules and navigating with tight quarters always tests my patience. I never can wait to walk into our first nights hotel room and crash...this time for twelve hours. Oh what a relief it is.

I'm not cranky about travel in general, since 911 the airline industry following the foolish directives of our government has removed all the luster and the fun adventure of getting to your destination. I just don't want to remove my belt in front of 500 people. I do have trouble keeping my trousers up to an acceptable level without synching my belt. When that support is removed I'm destined to hike up my pants twice before scanning, once in the scanner, and another waiting for the conveyor to deliver all my valuables. This is a good run...if I am selected to get the pat down treatment...well I leave my pantalones to fate.

Enough of this airport silliness. After getting my energy recharged with a battle for breakfast also know as the breakfast buffet, we decided to take advantage of this perfect day to take a two mile walk which turned into ten, to the famous "Little Mermaid" bronze on the water's edge of Copenhagen's harbor. Our journey included slicing through the multiple squares linked by lanes peppered with fit Danish cyclists and cautious courtesy drivers of German automobiles. At 9 the stores hadn't quite opened but window displays were evidence enough we entered a wealthy area of gardens and vintage five story architecture. After getting a bit lost we soon entered the extreme tourist bus zone. The shuffling hoards were near ground zero of Copenhagen's Tourist Zone. It's very cute to see elderly adults clamoring down the rocks seeking to be very close to this sweet chick of the sea. Far East visitors branding selfie sticks like sabers fighting to get that bad image of their faces with Little Mermaid' After our thirty second visit with Den Lillie Havfrue, Sharon and I decided to visit the Denmark Museum of Design.

The museum encompasses all things of Danish design not excluding tooth brushes. I admit I'm a true sucker for Mid Century teakwood Danish furniture. Both Sharon and I believe these people have sat in style for centuries. It was a bit past noon when we found a sweet table in an open garden doorway. This allowed a heavenly breeze to occasionally drift in along with lines from actors rehearsing a play in the courtyard. We each ordered two small funny sandwiches crafted in a delightful danish design and complimented them with a Jacobson Ale.

Directions back to our hotel were a bit misguided but it didn't matter because every turn was an adventure. Soon we retreated to our hotel for a mid afternoon respite.

Beautiful walkways and cafes add to the visual enjoyment

 The planetarium on the left.
The space cadet above.

Oh Yea, We're Back

To escape our little village's most uncomfortable month we're skipping off to Scandinavia for five weeks. Countries to include Faroe Islands in the North Sea, Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. These northerly enclaves are guaranteed to provide us the temp relief while Bisbee awaits its first 100 degree day to encourage the monsoon rains of summer.

In the meantime, Sharon and I will brave the wet cold like nomads seeking refuge of our desert's scorn.

Tuesday June 5th we depart leaving the 110 degree Phoenix in our contrails.

adios4now,
Sharon and Curt

 

Safari at Kruger National Wildlife Preserve

ONWARD TO HIPPO HOLLOW

Patched up and feeling a bit better thanks to an evening of musical toilet seats Chuck and I felt a bit more confident as we left the mountain top Magoebaskloof Hotel. We were now on our way to the Hippo Hollow. Yes this name conjures up images of over inflated wiener dogs dancing in tutu’s and frilly umbrellas but it’s a very nice lodge that is one of many lodges servicing the masses visiting Kruger National Park. On the way to the lodge we experience a large elevation drop of 3000 ft. made up of winding twisting narrow paved roads cut through the rolling hills but on the way we made stops at three incredible view points. The first had us walk up a steep pathway to a wide vista of the Lowveld. The sky wasn’t perfectly clear but that didn’t stop seeing a distance of 50 miles of more. The next stop Bourkes Luck Potholes (not named after the road nascence) was a nice stone pathway with a couple short pedestrian bridges that took you to eroded sandstone canyons in round “pot hole” formations with swirling water fed by a 100’ waterfall. Before the waterfall was a series of cascading shorter falls and pools from the river finding its way through the rolling hills of the valley. Lastly, the Rondavel view site was a mountain range with three massive rock formations that fancied itself like a traditional tribal  dwelling with a conical thatched roof called a Rondavel.

About 3PM we arrived at the Hippo Hollow lodge designed for accommodating large bus loads of visitors to the Kruger National Park. Fortunately Chuck and I and others were given two person cottages set into a spacious semicircle layout with a pool 30 yards away. For a lodge, this place had a nice bit of character with lush grounds next to a river housing hippos that came up to the hotel and grazed on their lawn every evening. Caution, these sausage boys are not cuddle animals. If cornered they will swiftly attacked humans.

I haven’t mentioned too much about the food because most of which is “buffet” food in a line of warming trays. I really don’t want to pan these offerings but…let’s just say some of the selections are regional. If you are a foodie, find another tour.   

Once in Hazyview, Chuck, Ken Richmond, and I walked to a nice local Italian restaurant I can’t recall the name but the owner was Johann made a really fine pizza. This was a very pleasant change from the buffet.

In the evening the hotel put on it’s tribal dance show to delight the motor coach crowd and I have to admit some of the dancing and singing being a kin to Paul Simon’s Graceland, was pleasing.  After the show everyone lined up, served themselves some local cuisine…as much as you want.

Before I headed back to my room, I was going to stop by bar the for an evening cleansing as the Aussies describe it, when I happened to see someone fall from the outdoor dining terrace 5’ high wall. The wall cordons off the nightly hippo activity from the entertained diners. I started to assist in the rescue but soon there were many on the hippo pitch to bring aid to this woman. I found out shortly after the victim was Clare, a sweet lady from our group that didn’t stop quick enough and stepped off the terraced dining area. Fortunately she only received a large bruise on her hip and slightly twisted ankle. But to everyone’s surprise Clare was a real trooper and continued to ride pillion for the duration of their stay. Gary, Clare, and their son Josh all came on the tour for a holiday.

With the singing, dancing, and Clare’s tumbling act over it was time turn in for the evening. The morning rise will be early to begin the Kruger Safari at 5AM

TODAY WE’RE ON A SAFARI TO STAY

The sun still hadn’t risen when we all meet at the two 4X4 modified Nissan safari vehicles with rag tops and extra seating. The group divided into two groups that helps cover a wider area to find . Breakfast bags were handed out while we boarded the trucks. When we left Hippo Hollow it was quiet. Within 20 minutes we arrived at an entrance to Kruger along with at least a dozen others. Our driver and guide, Smiley reviewed the rules of being on safari. These rules are rather simple no eating, no feeding the animals, no yelling, whistling to attract their attention, keep all arms and bodies inside the truck and use the toilet facilities before entering the park. Once done, Smiley fired up the 4x4, drove through the gate and immediately alerted by one of three communication devices, lions were on the road. Any previous plans or notions were abandoned. He was determined to get us to the lions post haste.

Mostly the roads are paved and are shared by other tour companies and if you wish you can take your private car in as well. Within five minutes we see a group of cars parked every which way on and slightly off the pavement. The 3 lions were lying very calmly on the left side. Though the others left and others filtered in, Smiley provided an in depth commentary. As he was speaking one lion crossed to the right side fixing his gaze on a mother and baby giraffe off in the bushes. His gaze turned to an intense stare focused on the baby. Suddenly the lion darted and made his move chasing his prey back across the road but both giraffes escaped the charge. The lion gave up within 30 seconds. A zebra standing in the bush next to the road then became the lion’s next prey. Again the lion organized himself and launched another attack this time at the zebra. The zebra darted off as the lion took a wide swipe at the zebra’s left hindquarter simultaneously delivering a hoof to the jaw of the lion defeating the attempt once again. Shortly after the lion’s action, a large group of wild dogs trotted down the road towards our vehicle. These colorful dogs, having no relation to our domestic dogs, were totally unbothered by our presence.

Smiley once again received communication Rhinos were off to the side of the road a short distance away. Once more we drove up to a group of other vehicles with all cameras fixed on one black and one white Rhino to the right of the roadway. The chattering of cameras didn’t both the animals grazing as they slowly paralleling the tarmac.

After these events, other animals such as elephants and more giraffes were sighted as the sun rose. It seemed as the sky lightened the animals disappeared into the grass. Soon we returned to the park’s head quarters to consume our bag breakfast. After eating we made our way back to lodge to relax for the remainder of the day.

  

Flats, Cops, and Fun

WELCOMING COFFEE BAY

The thick tropical vegetation dotted with palm trees, a one kilometer beach with a gentle hill to climb at the end, was just the setting we all needed after a day of rain and wind. The Ocean View Hotel lives up to its name and being the only real inn on the beach, made it that much special.

The hotel itself seems to carry you back to the days of out of the way quaint respites where the entire restaurant and housekeeping staff greets you and all share in carrying your luggage to your room.

Rumbling of the motorbikes engines through the threshold to the dirt parking area silenced one by one and the riders quickly retired to their rooms to remove the wet riding gear in exchange for comfort clothing to meet at the bar to review the day’s events.

Coffee Bay

Here we stay for two nights allowing us time to stroll along the clean hard pack sand, climb rocks jetting out towards crashing surf, and taking the low risk challenge to hike up the for a further view of the “Wild Coastline”. This downshift from 140 KPH to a slow walk was just what I needed to restore my mind and body. The hotel was the only restaurant within miles so we indulged into the buffet of local fish and chicken. The South African wine made everything taste that much better. A big surprise was the pineapple upside down cake…my all time favorite. Soon it was time to retire to rooms to prepare for another 450 km day.

STARTING AND STOPPING

I caught a beautiful sunrise while getting ready for another morning buffet breakfast. toted our bags to the support van, got a briefing on the day’s ride, geared up, mounted up and….whoaaaaa. As I backed my bike up to get a position in the line up, Darryl looked at me strangely. I’m sensitive to those type of looks and sensed something was wrong. He sauntered towards me focusing on my bike and announced “You av a flat”. I rotated my head focusing on my rear tire and sure enough the tire was very low…not flat but not really ride able. This meant I had to switch bikes because the BMW 800 GS has tubes requiring breaking down the wheel that takes too much time.

After unloading the spare BMW 700 GS from the trailer hauled by the support van, one of the staff gave the 700 a quick wash and the group was now on their way. Chuck had earlier rode up ahead to stage a photo of all the riders in a long line rising  on the winding road out of the beach. He suspected something was a rye but finally the group roared up the road while Chuck and Dave’s cameras fired away.

I was getting used to this new alternate bike and discovered it handled better than the old one and had about the same amount of throttle power so I was pretty content flying through the countryside usually staying within eyeshot of the rest of the group.

Port Alfred

The group got a little ahead because I was stopped a few times by “robots”, South African term for stop lights, leaving me and Chuck a short distance behind the main group as we exited from a small town. I began to accelerate  when up ahead a traffic policeman stood in the middle of the road waving a miniaturized stop sign signaling me to pull over to the left. Chuck rode by but pulled over a bit further down the road. I didn’t think I was speeding, but none the less, I was told to present my operators license, vehicle registration, and passport. Fortunately I had all my papers in order. The questioning began…was I part of the group earlier that blew by him? “maybe”…where did I come from, “America…no no Pretoria..no?...Coffee Bay”….where am I going?....ah,ah,…”It starts with an “A”…The officer began naming locations…none sounded right until he said Alfred. “Yes I believe that’s it…Port Alfred!” He smiled, gave me back my papers, I shook his hand, fired up the bike and joined Chuck up the road. I’m certain the traffic cop  didn’t believe the bloody Yank hadn’t any idea where he was going. Now I was free to motor on to my destination of “Port Alfred”

The dunes at Port Alfred

Up ahead the multiple flashing lights on the left side of the road signaled us we have caught up with group. Usually the delay was a couple minutes but this time some were curious why the wait was longer. I shared my story then we all moved on through the winding roadways, over the Port Alfred Bridge, up a step hill, a quick right into a small alleyway into the back of the quaint Links Coastal Inn. Once everyone dismounted, two welcoming women gave out our room assignments. Grabbing our bags from Julian, we retired to our room or should I say rooms. We each had our own room with a common area living room and kitchen dividing us. This was a very nice surprise. We quickly got settled and took a couple kilometer hike down to the beach where we were told large sand dunes lined the ocean edge. It reminded me of our Cape Hatteras. The long shadows of the late afternoon made a dramatic settling to snap some photos but dinner time was arriving soon. This meal was not to be missed because the hotel restaurant was known for it’s cuisine and tonight the chef prepared an African meat called Kudo. This animal is similar to our American deer. After a quick shower removing 450 KM of road dirt and a couple of drinks up in the crows nest like pub over looking the town, we wound our way down the stairs to the dining room for the feast. The Kudo was very rich, flavorful and filling. The dinner along with the days ride, left everyone feeling like they couldn’t get to the bed quick enough. 

The day wrap up was a flat plus a traffic pull over verses nice room, great dinner (and breakfast), and beautiful beach...I'm still having a great time. 

Wet & Wild

GETTING HIP…O

Kruger National Park afforded us to see 4 of the big five game animals though saying we saw a Hippopotamus was stretching it. We viewed the ears and snout of such a beast from 75 yards away. Not exacting a great sighting. I did see one come up on the lawn at Hippo Hollow Lodge but that’s almost a zoo like setting. This afternoon we walked across town to the docks in St Lucia to board a specialized hippo boat to really get a close up of this over inflated animal. Within minutes of arrival our group were off on a hippo hunt. I’m usually skeptical about such boastful adventure cruises but this one delivered in spades. At first we saw a few bobbing about near the tall reeds. The boat passed under a bridge and soon at least ten were frolicking about thrilling the passengers by widely opening their mouths. The sun began to duck close to the horizon as the boat docked and all of us retreated to our hotel.

 

DAY 8 EQUALS 18^TH

Almost 400 kilometers of winding undulating roads ushered us onto a dirt road leading us to the Oribi Gorge Hotel. This adventure driven refuge is a haven for adrenaline junkies. This gorge is known for the longest rope swing into the gorge. We arrived a bit too late to take advantage of this great opportunity. Instead we opted to cross the canyon by swinging footbridge. The swinging and bouncing of this bridge was good enough for me. The weather threatened us all day with wind a light sprinkles of rain. Later that evening rain in earnest began to fall and when the next morning arrived I knew it was going to be a very wet day ride to the coastal town of Coffee Bay. Riding these potholed strewn narrow roads are somewhat challenging to begin with let alone added pouring rain.  The big risk is passing “Abnormal” trucks laden with cargo. The general sense of road courtesy among South African drivers make it tempting to take a chance and pass where I normally wouldn’t even consider it. Late morning we dropped down out of the gorge area taking the switch backs with relative caution. Fog began to mix with rain making visibility through my faceshield extremely difficult. I came up on a tanker truck slowly grinding up a hill. The rider in front of me took a chance and made the pass. Now it was my turn to overtake the truck which splashed residue from its churning tires onto my helmet. The lack of ventilation inside my helmet created fog on the inside as well as the out. I rhythmically used my clutch glove as a wiper but I couldn’t keep up with the quantity rain. I moved to the right riding the center line trying to see an opening from the oncoming traffic. Finally it appeared there was a small opening. I down shifted and twisted the throttle making a full commitment to pass. I was halfway through the move when a bend in the road approached along with a truck making its way around the corner. With my limited vision I got as far as the door on the tanker, moved within inches of the grinding front tire when the large truck going in the opposite direction sandwiched me between 10 tons of steel. I saw the front bumper of the tanker truck next to my hip when I shifted to 4^th and sped away. An hour later the rain stopped and the sun lit my way to Coffee Bay.