Namibia has the Best Big Game Safaris in the World

My heart was thumping as I sipped a glass of wine right next to a pride of five large, powerful lions. Dusk was settling, the temperature was dropping and the cats were restless, starting to think about a snack, and here we were, sitting in an open Land Rover looking just like five tasty hors d’oeuvres.


We were in Ongava Game Reserve, bordering Namibia’s world-renowned Etosha National Park. Earlier we had watched a herd of desert elephants amble along a dry, dusty riverbed. An ostrich raced across the sparse landscape. Three white rhinos foraged, huge and ponderous. Zebras, a tangle of attractive black-and-white patterns, drank at a water hole next to springbok and oryx.

Namibia, Africa’s third largest country and sparsely inhabited, is making a strong case for becoming the go-to country for seeing big game. It hasn't been easy for exotic animals, such as rhinos and elephants, were being decimated by hunting, but progressive anti-poaching and rhino translocation programs have made a big difference. Elegant safari camps offer fascinating views of lions, cheetahs, rhinoceroses, giraffes, kudu, oryx and much more.

Best of all, the Namibian people are friendly and travel is safe.

*** To learn more about this amazing country and see over 130 colour photos, view my on-line book Impressions of Namibia at:
         http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/2881752 ***

General info on Namibia: http://www.namibatourism.com.na/
Wilderness Safaris operates lodges throughout southern Africa with 18 camps in Namibia: http://www.wilderness-safaris.com/
Travel Beyond makes bookings for Wilderness Safaris in North America: www.travelbeyond.com

Namibia Tracks & Trails makes travel and accommodation arrangements throughout Namibia: www.namibia-tracks-and-trails.com

Dizzying Dubai - 3

Oryx and Sheikh (apologies to Margaret Atwood)
Leaving the bustling cityscape behind, I headed to the Dubai Desert Conservation Reserve and the Al Maha Resort, an unusual combination of raw nature and extreme luxury. We turned off the main highway and drove along a small sand-blown road until in the distance I saw a clump of trees with tents scattered among them. After check-in, a golf cart drove me to a villa with a large sail of a canvas roof. Inside, I was greeted by a king-size bed, Arabian antiques and bathtub in which you could launch a ship. Outside, wooden decks and a personal infinity pool offered long views over the desert. I felt guilty as hell, but it was absolutely, deliciously decadent.

The resort with its pools attracts a variety of animals and birds, an oasis in the middle of a dry, hot desert. I went for a drive with a naturalist in the afternoon as the sun turned soft orange. An endangered oryx posed against the sky. Delicate little Arabian gazelles gazed shyly at us. On spotting us, a sandfish lizard disappeared into the dune in a flurry of sand. The dunes were like art with sculpted ridges and rich shadowy ripples.

This piece of desert offers a good-news conservation story. The oryx, an antelope with long sharp horns, was declared extinct in 1968. The Sheikh organized a breeding program in Arizona using a number of captive oryx. In 1998, about 50 oryx were returned and released in the reserve. With government protection, including a fence around the 225-square-kilometre reserve, the population prospered and has grown to over 400 today.

Later, I mounted a camel and we rode for 20-minutes into the desert. We dismounted and walked among the dunes in bare feet, sipping sparkling wine as the sun set in a brilliant giant orb. Then we mounted up and rode back to our modest villas and a sumptuous dinner at the Al Diwaan restaurant.

Next morning I rose for an early swim and then lazed by the pool with a coffee listening to an avian orchestra of coos, chirps and warbles. I never imagined the desert would be so, well, luxurious and comfortable.

More Information:
+ General info:  definitelydubai.com
+ The Desert Conservation Centre:  http://www.ddcr.org/
+ Tours: http://www.knighttours.co.ae/

Dizzying Dubai - 2

A filly, several actually, drew me to Dubai. I came to see the World Cup horse race, the richest in the world with total purses exceeding $26 million US.

A gala Arabian Nights evening preceded the race by two days. We drove along a modern highway and soon were in the desert. We passed the Outlet Mall, an enormous structure surrounded by miles of empty sand, and a sign that the recent financial crisis has slowed Dubai’s incredible boom. A camel train wandered past.

A roofless arena that looked like an old fort loomed out of the desert. We entered along a row of Persian carpets laid on the sand. Inside, the arena tiers were set up with elegant tables, glistening glasses and cutlery. We wandered around in the sand-floored centre enjoying displays of Bedouin crafts and foods. As the sun set in a blaze on the western horizon, we went to our al fresco table. We tucked into sumptuous Arabic style cuisine, washed down with, surprise, copious quantities of wine. Then the show began. We were entranced by music, including an Arab band playing bagpipes (!), and horses doing intricate manoeuvres and stunts. The Sheik was present and I got to within about 30 metres. The evening closed with a dazzling fireworks display. Arab hospitality is fabulous!

Two evenings later we fought through thick traffic to get to the big show, the World Cup race. What a party! It’s the social highlight of the year. Beautiful ladies in hats, stiletto heels and ample curves and cleavage paraded back and forth, occasionally contrasting with local women totally encased in black. The new state-of-the-art Meydan stadium, the largest and most opulent horse-racing venue in the world, was crammed with over 60,000 exuberant, happy people. Sheik Mo was in attendance, constantly followed by a coterie of sycophants, all dressed in flowing white traditional robes. Oh, yes, and there were eight horse races. The Godolphin Stables, owned by the Sheik, who else, was the big winner, with three triumphant horses. A magnificent show of dancing, lights and fireworks preceded and built up the suspense for the final race, the Dubai World Cup with a purse of $10 million US. In the thundering charge down the final straight, horses from beleaguered Japan came in first and second.

Late in the night, we fought our way hotelward through thick traffic. I closed my eyes and wondered. The evening had been spectacular, and it had delivered a clear message: the Sheikh is pushing hard to make Dubai a world-class destination. Only time will tell if the initial enormous growth will continue.

More Info:  + General info: definitelydubai.com
+ Tours: www.knighttours.co.ae

Dizzying Dubai - 1

The plane touched down in the Emirate of Dubai after midnight. En route to the hotel, I groggily watched an ultra-modern city pass by: high-rise towers, parks with flowers, modern multi-lane roads and, even at this late hour, plenty of traffic. The only clues that I had landed in an exotic Alice-in-Wonderland were road signs in both Arabic and English and frequent mosque minarets pointing skyward.

Next morning, I strolled through Dubai Mall, one of the world’s largest with over 1,100 shops. An elevator sped us to the observation deck of the world’s tallest building, the Burj Khalifa (828 m). The fantastic view showed clusters of skyscrapers stretching to the Arabian Sea, where a group of man-made islands in the shape of the world shimmered in the heat. I tried to imagine the immense construction boom that created this amazing cityscape, for only two decades earlier none of this was here. Furthermore, this instant city — just add water and petrobucks — is one of superlatives: tallest building, most luxurious hotel (the Burj al Arab, 7 stars), huge cruise-ship port, best horse-race track and to top it all off, an indoor ski hill. How could a world-class city rise so quickly from a barren desert? And would the recent financial crisis halt this frenzied growth?

I wandered through the Atlantis Hotel on the famous man-made Palm Island (Tiger Woods and other famous people have villas here.). Incorporating an enormous aquarium and water park, the hotel epitomizes the over-the-top attitude of Dubai. The Lost Chambers suite, for example, stretches over three stories with its own elevator. The bedroom and bathroom windows face onto the aquarium with sharks and manta rays lazily floating past. Pleasant dreams.

At the Mall of the Emirates the indoor ski hill was busy with snowboarders and skiers — outside the temperature was 30°C! A woman, enclosed in a long black abaya, carried her little son’s snowboard.

The portrait of Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum adorns many walls, a not-so-subtle reminder that Dubai is governed like a benign dictatorship. Not only is Sheik Mo incredibly wealthy with over seven palaces, several wives and 21 children, but he also has the ultimate power in the Emirate. Under his visionary direction this patch of sand has transformed into the thriving commercial and tourism centre of the Arab world, a cross between Singapore and Las Vegas.

I had heard that foreign workers, who form about 80 per cent of the population, are not treated well. But those I spoke with — all in the tourism business — had kind words for the Sheikh. I saw little trace of discontent or fermenting revolt. A dark note though: a critical article about Dubai had been cut out of every issue of Vanity Fair on newsstands.

That afternoon I went on a dune bashing tour in the desert aboard a huge Hummer. I walked barefoot, soft sand squishing delightfully between my toes. The dunes were like artwork with delicate ridges and ripples. The more adventuresome tried sand boarding. Then we sat on cushions on rugs on desert sand and enjoyed an Arab meal under the stars.

My favourite part of Dubai was the gold and spice souks. It was refreshing to wander through crowded, narrow old alleyways savouring the smell of spices, instead of in sanitized malls. The adjacent creek was jammed with dhows, reminders of historical trade routes.

I removed my shoes and entered the coolness of Jumeirah Mosque, one of about 500 in the city. A lady clad completely in black described the five pillars of Islam and its gentle and peaceful culture. These principles are reflected in the city, which for tourists is safe, with little alcohol and no gambling or beggars.


The social highlight of Dubai is the World Cup horse race, described in my next blog.

More Info:
+ General info: definitelydubai.com
+ Tours: www.knighttours.co.ae

A journey into First Nations culture

Piers jut into the bay. Fishing boats, many in disrepair, bob in the water. Totem poles reach toward the sky. The tang of salt and seaweed hangs in the air. Alert Bay on Cormorant Island off the northeast coast of Vancouver Island is one of the most exotic towns in Canada.

My dearest, Ally, and I and eight other guests are aboard the Columbia III on a Mothership Adventures’ tour that is meandering through the Broughton Archipelago and focusing on First Nations culture.

We visit the U'mista Cultural Centre, which captures both the agony and glory of the Kwakwaka'wakw people. A film shows how the white man in the late 1800s banned the potlatch, an important Native ceremony. In 1921, a large “illegal” potlatch on Village Island was raided and the priceless ceremonial regalia confiscated. Some of the seized items were repatriated and are now displayed in the Potlatch Collection of the Centre. The gallery, designed as a big house, is full of colourful masks representing ravens, eagles, orcas, bears, the moon and sun as well as supernatural creatures. I sense a powerful pulse, an emotional celebration of the songs, legends and dances embodied in these masks.

Next door sits the abandoned, decaying St. Michael=s residential school, a hulking, red-bricked reminder of the persecution of the Native people.

Then we visit the Big House where a large fire lights the dusky interior, showing colourful totems and immense cedar posts and beams. Amidst the smell of smoke and cedar four men drum on a log. The “Determined” dancers, mostly youngsters, circle the flaming fire, proudly performing traditional dances in native regalia.

I am touched by the cemetery in the middle of downtown with its extraordinary array of totems as well as crosses, a strange mixture of Native and non-Native faiths.

Boarding the Columbia I don’t know whether to rejoice or to cry. The soul of the First Nations people is laid bare in this town of contrasts. In places it has poverty and living conditions that makes it feel like a third-world country. But it also displays a culture that is powerful, rich, appealing and rooted in nature. This contrast screams out about the injustices that native people have suffered and the difficulties they continue to face.

We motor on. Once the rising sun chases the fog, the Columbia purrs through the archipelago leaving a wake that gently caresses the shorelines. A mortuary box peers out of the greenery on one island. On another, vertical scars on cedar trees mark where Natives “farmed” bark. At Village Island a decaying totem pole lies in the forest. Along the shore of another isle, rocks are piled along the tide line so clams could be harvested. Later, a petroglyph winks at us from a cliff.

One day, the captain catches up with the A12 pod of killer whales (aka orcas). High black dorsal fins slice effortlessly through the water and spouts of spray rise in the air.

At the Burdwood Group, a glorious gaggle of little islands, we lower kayaks into the water. Some of us paddle while others go ashore to explore the middens (layers of broken clam shells left by centuries of First Nations habitation) and enjoy the view while sitting on sun-warmed rocks.

All too soon it is time to go aboard and chat about today’s adventures over a glass of wine and a gourmet meal. Dusk settles and the islands transform into soft velvety shapes.

More Info

• www.mothershipadventures.com

• U’mista Cultural Center: www.umista.ca

• www.aboriginalbc.com

• I’ve prepared a 32-page, glossy, full-colour book that is rich with photos using Blurb publishing technology. It looks great and contains a lot of information about First Nations and the Broughton Archipelago! Order it through Blurb at: 

http://www.blurb.com/books/1609312

Literary-Soaked Edinburgh

Sipping a latté in Elephant House, the coffee shop where a destitute J.K. Rowling penned her first Harry Potter novel, I realized I had gone astray. Scotch whisky had lured me to Edinburgh, but instead I found myself immersed in literature.

Everywhere I found reminders that Scots love stories, and began to understand why, in 2004, Edinburgh was selected as the first UNESCO City of Literature. Only three other cities (Melbourne, Iowa City, Dublin) have gained this distinction, which recognizes publishing, writing, festivals and encouragement of the written word.

Meandering through Old Town along the Royal Mile that joins Edinburgh Castle with the Palace of Holyroodhouse, I stumbled upon the Writers Museum, a cozy rambling old house accessed via a medieval close or laneway. The Museum celebrates Adam Scott (The Wealth of Nations), Robert Louis Stevenson (Treasure Island, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) and Robbie Burns (Auld Lang Syne, Scots Wha Hae), who is widely regarded as Scotland’s national poet. Portraits of the authors gazed down from the walls, dusty original manuscripts peered up from glass cases as I learned how these gentlemen lived and wrote. I hoped that some of their talent would rub off on me.

Piercing the skyline to the north, and a constant reminder of Edinburgh’s literary heritage, is an ornate Victorian Gothic statue commemorating Sir Walter Scott (Ivanhoe, Lady of the Lake). Known affectionately as Edinburgh’s Rocket, it is the world’s tallest statue to honour an author.

Farther down the street I came upon the Scottish Storytelling Centre, where “the story is told eye to eye, mind to mind and heart to heart.” The Centre celebrates Scotland’s strong oral tradition. The curator described the long list of events they host and how the Centre is integrated with other story-telling venues and events throughout the city. My favorite event was Tall Tales Oscar, where the silliest yarns are told with deadpan or surrealistic conviction.

For lunch, I savoured an ale and a dram at the Oxford Bar, the pub of choice for the gruff Inspector Rebus in Ian Rankin’s internationally acclaimed murder mysteries.

At the Scottish National Library I was led into the stacks. Amazingly, the international Dewey Decimal System of organizing books is shunned. Instead, books are shelved by size! A Library official explained, “We reorganized and saved five kilometres of shelving.”

That evening, nursing a nip of smooth, peaty single-malt, I day-dreamed about returning in August for the Edinburgh International Book Festival, the biggest celebration of books and the written word in the world. Authors range from up-and-comers to Nobel-prize winners and have included Margaret Atwood, J.K. Rowling, Al Gore, John Irving, Salman Rushdie and more. Perhaps it was the quality (or quantity?) of whisky, but I pictured myself at the Festival reading to a mesmerized audience from one of my books.

Previously, I had thought that Scottish literature consisted of quoting Robbie Burns in a dusky pub. But now I realize literature permeates the very soul of Scotland — and nowhere more than in Edinburgh.

If You go

Scotland info: www.cometoscotland.com

Edinburgh info: www.edinburgh.org

Edinburgh International book Festival: www.edbookfest.co.un

Scotch Whisky Experience: www.whisky-heritage.co.uk

Cardiff: A World-Class City

It’s unofficial, but I rank Cardiff among the top ten cities on the planet. How can you not love a city full of pubs, with a crenellated castle at its centre, where a bizarre language is spoken and with a confusingly large proportion of males named David? Cardiff — population 325,000 — is caught in a tug of war between the urbanity of a large capital city and the friendly casualness of a small rural centre. I love it.

I checked in at the Angel Hotel, my home for the next few days. From the window I ould see the stolid walls and colourful clock-tower of Cardiff Castle. I set out to explore and was pleasantly surprised that Cardiff is designed around pedestrians not cars. And being flat, it’s perfect for cycling and — get this — they provide bicycles for free. The downtown encompasses St. David’s Shopping Centre and broad, open walkways that contrast with the surrounding delightful narrow lanes, arcades and cobbled streets. The Gatekeeper, the City Arms, the Old Arcade, the Owain Glyndwr and numerous other pubs kept interrupting my wandering, luring me in with foaming pints of Brains cask ale, the local brew.

Bilingual signs are everywhere. The Welsh are proud of their language, although I was baffled by its consonant-filled, tongue-twisting words like Cymraeg, wrthgyferbyniadau and Etifeddiaeth.

Next day I toured Cardiff Bay, a beautifully restored former dockland, where the sun sparkled on waves and the tang of salt water drifted in the air. I strolled along large open plazas, rode an old merry-go-round and explored the Wales Millennium Centre, a spectacular huge opera house. It is one of the finest in the world and celebrates the Welsh love of music. Nearby sat the Senedd, the National Assembly of Wales, an ultra-green, new (2006) building featuring Welsh slate and acres of glass. Time flew by as I jostled with crowds who were drawn by boat tours, cafés, art exhibits and, of course, pubs.

On my final day, I embarked on the Cardiff Centenary Walk under another cloudless sky. I meandered through markets rich with the colours and aromas of vegetables, flowers and fresh fish. I passed St. John’s Church from the 12th century, narrow arcades, remnants of the old fortified city walls and Millennium Stadium, the home of the Welsh passion: rugby union. I entered the gate of Cardiff Castle, which dates to Roman times, and toured through lavish apartments and an interior Norman keep. Soon I was at the City Hall in Cathays Park, one of the most impressive civic centres in Britain. The clock tower rises 60 metres with a Welsh dragon roaring at the top. The interior is ornate with a domed council chamber. Next door are the Law Courts and National Museum of Wales.

My tour continued through Alexandra Garden with its War Memorial and bronzed figures of a soldier, sailor and airman. I gazed across the street to the imposing main building of Cardiff University, a reminder that Cardiff is a university city with a boisterous night life.

Back at the Angel, I savoured a pint of Brains and pondered the long history and proud culture of this Welsh capital. Cheers, all you Davids!

If You Go
http://www.visitcardiff.com/
http://www.visitcardiffbay.com/