my-travels

A Walk Through Downtown Manhattan

Fri, 30 Jul 2010 16:03:24 +0100

I completed a repeat visit to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island since, on my trip a year previous, I was unable to give either of them the time they really deserved in the cold and rain. Albeit a bit warm and muggy, it was a beautiful day to spend between the two islands to do a bit of exploring. I climbed to the top of the Statue of Liberty crown, sweating like I was in the gym for hours, and wandered through the museum, taking my time to admire one of America's best symbols of freedom. But, despite not having any family come through its halls, I was more interested in revisiting Ellis Island.

I enjoyed listening to the Ellis Island audio tour and people watching, imaginging we were all immigrants having just arrived from the Old World; I toured the Registry Room, the first stop for immigrants after having dropped off their luggage, on the second level:

From there I went back down to the lower level and read through the exhibits in the Peopling of America exhibit, which is just behind the main entrance in what is known as the Baggage Room:

I'll need to go back another time to get more from both islands as I know there's so much that I missed, but time was running short and I really wanted to see a bit of downtown New York City as well. I have very vague childhood memories from there, as I do at the Statue of Liberty, and I wanted to wander the streets a bit to see what I could find.

No sooner did I start wandering than I came across the famous New York Stock Exchange (NYSE) bull. I loved the moment I first set eyes on him since it was a total surprise, having assumed he was located right out from of the NYSE instead of down on Broadway at Morris. I think I stopped at a bad time of day though as the crowds were hording all over him, making it quite impossible to get a picture of just the bull unless it was on an extreme close up. I sighed at my annoyance and decided to continue walking north along Broadway.

I hadn't anticipated any special route, and tried to avoid following the signs pointing to tourist attractions, being content in just wandering around downtown. With my head in the air admiring the towering buildings on the sunny day, I came upon Trinity Church, which many people now associate with what happened to the World Trade Center on September 11th. Services were in progress though, so I wandered off down Wall Street, having seen the street sign as I admired the church exterior.

Before I could go too far though, I was inexplicably pulled back in the direction I had just come; wandering through a concrete park lined with various food carts. The smell of hot dogs was definitely in the air. A man in a suit stood nearby talking on the phone as he shoved a dog in his mouth, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was in one of the buildings on September 11th, and what he did when the attacks happened. And as I looked around the park, seeing many other people in business attire, I wondered where they were when it all happened as well. I knew where I was, far away in Denver, but where were these people that now lived here? Were they in another city as well, safe, or did they live through the experience, perhaps even being in one of the two towers?

I was somber, walking with my head down contemplating the horrid day that changed the world, and came to a street corner where I noticed a massive construction site kitty corner to where I was standing. Without even knowing it, I had come upon the World Trade Center site that is now under construction.

I was walking down Liberty Street, on the south side of the construction, without taking my eyes off an empty spot in the New York skyline, when my inner silence was shattered by the sound of laughter. I looked over and saw a group of women, smiling and laughing, posing for a picture outside the Tribute WTC Visitor Center. It was a photo in front of a photo of the destruction, and they were laughing and smiling as though they were at Disneyland.

I turned to see a fire truck from the famous Ladder 10 Company pull into the house, and decided that I just couldn't be there and listen to the laughter of others at such a difficult site. On one hand, yes, I agree that people died on that day so others have the right to laugh and smile, no matter where it is, but on the other hand I found it disturbingly inappropriate. And so, without spending any more than five minutes on Liberty Street, I turned back towards Wall Street to head east through downtown.

Easily enough, I found the NYSE and admired the hustle and bustle that was taking place out front of it during the mid afternoon, reporters perched up on the steps of nearby buildings giving reports as tourists wandered at street level snapping photos. I paused briefly to snap a few photos, having recalled when my father took us through the stock exchange on a family vacation, but could only definitely recall my boredom as I sat in a musty-smelling room in orange-colored movie theater chairs that were used in the 1980s.

My jaunt through downtown continued east and ended at the South Street Sea Port area, people relaxing on the various bar patios watching World Cup matches. I was inclined to stop for a pint, or four, with them, but was interested in continuing on first to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, and experience that I missed out on my last visit, and was just intent on completing as I was in revisiting Liberty and Ellis Islands.

The Brooklyn Bridge towers over the area, making it easy to find, so I followed it like a beacon. I paused, coming to the waterfront path that leads under it, and took a moment to take it all in; I was there looking at one of the most famous and iconic bridges in the world. I loved what I was seeing and wondered if I was sharing this moment with anyone else. I looked over my left shoulder and was greeted with, not another smiling face like mine, but a homeless man who obviously wasn't wearing any underwear as his testicles hung from his shorts and over the edge of the park bench he was sitting on as he messed with a small shattered window frame.

There was no doubt it was time for me to leave, so I snapped a couple of quick photos of the bridge before taking a walk under it:

I looked for a way to get up on the bridge so I could walk across and head over to Brooklyn for a bit, but I quickly gave up as my feet were become too tired from all of the walking I had done already that day. So, sadly, my walk across the Brooklyn Bridge would have to wait for another day. But at least I was able to overall do what I wanted on the day, and that was go back and further explore Liberty and Ellis Islands, take a bit of a trip down that old memory lane from a family vacation to New York City so long ago, and see the Brooklyn Bridge up close - although it would've been much better had it not been for the sun tanning nuts.

Yeah, I really could've passed on that experience.

A National Parks Pass Review

Tue, 27 Jul 2010 15:52:56 +0100

A year ago I purchased an annual pass for the U.S. National Park Service, (left) and made it a point to hit as many places as I could during the life of the pass. I wanted to get out and experience more of the natural world around me, as well as learn about the history of important events and places that I maybe didn't know about before I purchased my pass. Some of the places I had visited before, like Rocky Mountain National Park (above)here in Colorado, but overall I'd give it the big ol' mission accomplished stamp as I visited a total of twenty-two different spots.

I wish I had been able to get out of the region to see more locations, but I was pretty well confined to seeing the places in neighboring states like Utah and Wyoming. And really, that's not such a bad thing as the beauty of places like the Devils Tower (above) and Bryce Canyon (below) are quite exceptional. I loved every minute at each place, as well as neighboring parks, and now I want to go back and explore them both more extensively and in different seasons to get an alternate perspective.

I only hit a few historical sites, like Ft. Laramie and the Oregon Trail in Wyoming, but enjoyed them just the same as I did the locations known more for their beauty. They allowed me to learn more about the history of my country, and better understand the trials and difficulties people went through to make where I live so great. I found the Minuteman Missile National Historic Site in South Dakota of particular interest since one of the actual missileers, the only man ever to launch one of the missiles - this one for a test - spoke to our tour group down in the secure bunker. It was an amazing experience and one that I'll remember for quite some time.

On the same level, I'll always appreciate and hold dear the time I spent with two men who were working a pipestone quarry at the Pipestone National Monument in my home state of Minnesota. They had traveled a great distance for their chance to dig for the stone, and took the time to stop and talk with me about what they were doing and why it was important to them and their cultural history. I was quite honored to have shared the time and experience with them back in the state where I grew up.

While I can't create an easy list of the top places I visited in the past year, I can quite easily pick out a favorite. Unfortunately though, I have to be a tease and leave it a mystery as it's a big part of a book I'm working on, something I hope to release later this year. Temptation pushes me to leave a clue, but as there are so many experienced travelers out there, I'll have to resist the urge and work on being just as patient as everyone else and instead post a photo of a close runner up, Zion National Park in Utah:

Rwanda ~ Cruising Lake Kivu

Thu, 22 Jul 2010 16:22:02 +0100

The 1,040 square mile surfaced Lake Kivu makes up the western border between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. On the second-to-the-last day on our tour of Rwanda, our day would be spent cruising south from the town of Gisenyi to Cyangugu, where we'd reunite with our drivers and head to the Nyungwe Forest Lodge for the night. Of course, when I say "cruise," I mean it in the loosest sense in this instance since our ride was by dual engine speed boat.

We sped south, the whole time skirting the border of the Congo, as various sights were pointed out to us. The most notable of which, for me anyway, was the Primus Brewery. I wept a few tears as I came tantalizingly close to the brewery, but kept far enough away so I couldn't enjoy a tour of what became a staple drink for many of us during our week in Rwanda.

We also passed a methane gas mining facility and many fishermen, none of who looked the least bit happy at our presence as their boats bobbed in the wake of our departure, likely causing enough disturbance to scare away the day's catch.

The highlight of the boat tour was a stop at a small island in the lake where a local dance troupe performed for us for a small fee. It was an excellent performance, punctuated by a farewell song saying they were happy we came and wish we'd return soon, that put a wide smile on my face. I loved their singing and dancing, especially that of a small child that would hopefully carry on the local tradition, as it seemed more a part of who the people really are, opposed to what the government maybe wanted us to see.

We walked the steep hill, enjoying stunning views of the lake as we went, to the city hall where some business was taken care of before our departure. And as we walked through the island, word quickly spread about our arrival as children in school uniforms came out to get a peak; others even being brave enough to quickly touch our white skin to see if we were real. It was an interesting experience as, all the while, the dancing and singing continued from the group, having followed us up the hill.

Our visit was sadly short as we didn't have enough time to explore any of the island, save the short dirt road we climbed on the way to the city hall. And I left, reclining in the back of the boat with a rain shower beginning as the spray kicked up on my arm from the boat, looking back at the island and wondering when next the people, an ethnic mix of Rwandese and Congolese, would again have visitors.

It wasn't long until we arrived in Cyangugu, where we briefly stopped at the border to be cruely teased with the opportunity to pass into the Congo so close yet so far. Our obvious interest at crossing the border becoming more and more apparent, so our fixer piled us back into the SUVs to drive up to the lodge, a five star resort, where we would spend an agonizingly short evening before our departure and return home the next day.

The drive was longer than any of us would've liked, passing through the town and by buildings that had not yet been repaired from the Rwandan Genocide of the 1990s. Despite our interest in stopping and taking a closer look at the destroyed homes, time was against us as it was well into the afternoon at this point and we had not yet eaten lunch. Thankfully though, the warm welcome of the Nyungwe Forest Lodge helped remedy that problem:

Stalking Washington in the Met

Thu, 15 Jul 2010 16:17:17 +0100

Hot dog in hand, I entered Central Park from the American Museum of Natural History and wandered through the Ramble on my way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I didn't dilly, or dally, though as I was on a mission. I was going to the museum to see the famous American painting by Emanuel Leutze of Washington Crossing the Delaware; when I was in New York City a little over a year previous I stopped at the Met only to find that it was not on display since the area was being renovated.

Well this time, damn it, I'd see it.

I moved through the crowded lobby directly focused on my goal, but once I crossed the security threshold I pulled back. I wanted to build up to the climax of seeing what I missed last time, not act like an unknowledgeable and eager teenager, so I wandered the rest of the museum to see what I missed the previous time. I was particularly interested in the Egyptian area since a traveling King Tut exhibit just opened in Denver.

I moved through it and the Asian Art displays, directly above the Egyptian, and marveled at just how much great art I had missed on my previous visit. Of course, as I sat admiring a statue of Vishnu, I realized that it's just not possible to see the Met on one visit. That would be like doing the Louvre in an afternoon. It's just not possible unless you plan to only pass through each room. And then, still, it's difficult to manage.

I did once again pass through the rooms that I visited previously, just to see them again, not reallytaking anything particular in until I stopped admire the beautiful works by artists like Matisse, Van Gogh, and Monet. But as I moved to find my way out of the European Art rooms, I noticed some paintings I hadn't picked up before, like The Almeh by Jean-Leon Gerome. I loved the work and admired it for a short while, but a special exhibition was on display of Pablo Picasso's work, a favorite of mine, for the first time ever. I didn't want to miss my chance at that either, so I left my new lovely friend and made my way back into the interior of the museum.

The special Picasso exhibit is on display until mid August with 300 of his works in a few medium-sized rooms in the center of the second floor - a perfect stop as I walked back across the museum to the American Wing for my encounter with President Washington. Despite my interest in getting to my ultimate destination, I paused as I walked through the Picasso rooms and admired his great art. I found particular interest in Dora Maar in an Armchair as it's a piece I didn't recall having seen a year previous as I gazed at many of his works on display in the European Art exhibit.

The time had come though, and I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to move on to the American Wing and find Washington in his famed painting. I had looked forward to this moment since a friend of mine told me it was on display once again, and I didn't want to prolong the ecstacy any longer. It was time. I needed to be there without another moment's hesitation.

"Excuse me," I addressed a large museum security guard near the American Wing Courtyard, "can you tell me where Washington Crossing the Delaware is, please?"

"It's not on display right now."

"What? I heard it was back after the renovation of the area a year ago."

"It's not done yet, so it's still not on display," he responded stoically.

I sighed, thanked him, and wandered off in search of another gem or two in the museum, all the while feeling dejected. I had looked forward to this moment for months and in one tiny pin prick, my bubble was burst and deflating as it zipped across the large, glass-ceilinged room.

I know, some day, I'll be back in New York and that I'll go to the Met once again, but my hopes had been set on seeing President Washington on this visit. I had so looked forward to it, what would surely be a highlight of this trip, and was let down that he was once again able to slip through my fingers like water. Head bowed, I walked back into the museum to drown my sorrows a bit with a work that I hadn't realized was there until a friend messaged me during my visit - Auguste Rodin's The Thinker.

I knew there were copies of The Thinker elsewhere from Paris, where I had seen the famed statue two years ago, but I didn't know the Met had one. After quickly receiving some directions near the Picasso exhibition, I made my way through the photography and drawing hallway with the expectation of being confronted head on by the massive sculpture that was more than life-sized in Paris.

I looked around, seeing what I knew were other works by Rodin even before reading the display cards, but couldn't find The Thinker. And then, for whatever reason, I looked up, finding him sitting on a little shelf as though he were a single, lonely bookend without any books. I couldn't believe how tiny he was, especially in relation to his Parisian cousin, and couldn't help but chuckle and smirk at it. I looked around, noticing no one else seeing the figure contemplating as they hustled through the museum, and my disappointment at not seeing Washington began to wash away, my mood lightening because I had, in all the chaos of the museum, The Thinker all to myself.

Don't be mistaken though Mr. President, one day soon, we will meet.

A Return to the American Museum of Natural History

Mon, 12 Jul 2010 03:20:11 +0100

I was insistent that I would delve into the American Museum of Natural History on my return visit to New York City since, on my previous trip, I only ran by the highlights since I arrived so late. I really wanted to get there early, spend hours in the halls, and maybe see a show or two that was playing. After all, the museum is one of the highest rated stops in the city, and one of the best in the whole country.

Well, that was the plan until jetlag reared it's ugly head over a two hour time difference.

The alarm was set bright and early to get up and be at the museum, after rush hour on the subway, when the doors opened. I wanted to have as much time as possible there before having a walking lunch as I headed through Central Park on my way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But, sadly, the plan was abbreviated since 7am in New York is 5am back home, and that's just not a time I can wake up at, even if I'm not on vacation.

After getting my ticket with my complimentary City Pass, I headed directly for the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life, a favorite spot on my first visit. And honestly, I didn't care how long I spent in the hall, I just wanted to once again stand in awe of how massive the suspended blue whale is when compared to a person. I was so impressed with it the first time around that I had to go and make sure what I saw wasn't a mirage.

Mission accomplished.

From there I wandered the halls and checked out the exhibits at random, but really didn't give any of them the time they deserved any more than I did the first time around. And I'm not sure I would be able to either unless I spent a solid week there since the place is just unexplainably huge; I'm not sure I've ever been in a museum, other than the Louvre in Paris, that was so big.

Unlike my previous visit though, I was able to catch a show in the planetarium this time around - Journey to the Stars. Despite being narrated by Whoopi Goldberg, I thought it was really well done, doing an excellent job at explaining how stars form and die. My expert opinion only comes from taking an introductory astronomy class in college though, so I guess I can't say too much about it - at least the special effects were entertaining.

I wandered through the dinosaur fossils following the show and couldn't help but wonder how amazed I would've been had I seen them as a child. It's very possible I did during a family trip when I was a kid, but as I don't remember it I honestly can't say. Still though, as an adult, I'm amazed at the collection and effort put into it and get a thrill by imagining what the world must've been like millions of years ago when it was inhabited by these great beasts.

Unfortunately, as I left the museum, I realized that I was no closer to digging into its displays than a scratch. Sure, I saw the planetarium show this time around, but all I really had time for, once again, was to walk through the halls and see some highlights. I wish I spent more time there, but it's difficult as there are so many great things to see and do in New York City...especially with that complimentary City Pass.

Rwanda ~ Gorilla Trekking in the Virungas

Wed, 07 Jul 2010 16:33:12 +0100

I wrestled with the idea of hiking to see the gorillas of the Virunga Mountains in northwest Rwanda. On one hand, an African safari was high up on my bucket list and going to see the gorillas in their native habitat would be nothing short of spectacular. On the other, what would happen if one of these critically endangered animals acted in a way that's only natural if, for some odd reason, they felt a member of their group was threatened by one of us?

Well, there'd be at least one less gorilla in the wild, by my estimation, in part by the machine gun-carrying guards that took the hike with us. They were generally there to protect us from wild buffalo, and other beasties that might do us harm in the mountain jungle, but there certainly is a chance that something could happen in that brief hour we spent with the gorillas. And I sincerely doubt that, if a gorilla attacked a human, the guard would remember gorilla researcher Dian Fossey explaining that, "Any observer is an intruder in the domain of a wild animal and must remember that the rights of that animal supersede human interests."

Yet, with knowledge and awareness comes power and protection. And if the gorillas are to survive, it will now be with the aid of humans and not because of their abandon and neglect. This is how I justified it to myself anyway as I recalled the words of Olle Carlsson, my ship's expedition leader to Antarctica. Olle explained to our expedition that in order to protect Antarctica people need to be aware of it. They need to know how beautiful it is, to appreciate the life that calls it home, and how fragile of an environment it is, as well as the great effect, positive and negative, humans can have on it. And as I thought of the mountain gorillas, I realized they were no different than Antartica in their fragility.

Fossey argued otherwise, saying, "Educating the local populace to respect gorillas and working to attract tourism do not help the remaining 242 (1983) remaining gorillas of the Virungas survive for future generations of tourists to enjoy. Theoretical conservation (tourism) has good long-term goals that needlessly ignore desperate immediate needs...To an impoverished country such as Rwanda, an abstract rather than practical approach is more appealing...In 1980 alone, the park's revenue from tourism more than doubled over that received in 1979."

And in 2010, the Rwanda Development Board (RDB), our group's host, hoped to increase that even more by hosting 750,000 visitors who will generate approximately $187 million USD throughout the country, much of it generated by an interest in the mountain gorillas.

As we gathered on the morning of the hike I was still concerned with the effects our small group could have on the gorillas, despite already being habitutated to humans. I was excited and the anticipation of our adventure was gnawing at me like a child on Christmas Eve, but I couldn't help but wonder if further habituation and encroachment on their habitat was a good thing regardless of any intentions.

Our guides, Fidel and Denise, gathered us to the side of a Parc des Volcans office and prepped us for our encounter. There we were told we'd be trekking to see the "Hirwa," or Lucky, group (below), which I took as a positive omen, that was lead by the silverback Munyinya (below right) - a massive gorilla that undoubtedly could be known as the king of the jungle by all practical standards. Also in the group would be one of the babies just named the previous day at the Kwita Izina, which was held at the foot of the Virungas near the park offices.

The off road drive to the trailhead was nothing short of challenging as all occupants of our four wheeler had to get out and push, becoming stuck multiple times, with the help of farmers that were watching from their nearby fields. I reveled in the physical exertion, taking it to a point even that I miscalculated my efforts and slipped in the muddy track, becoming the first member of our party dirtied by the experience.

And in my naivete I thought that this was as bad as it would get.

The four of us, the other half of our group in a SUV that was able to make it through, hiked up the remainder of the road to reunite with the rest. We were handed staffs, offered porters to carry our packs, and instructed to take a guard with us if we had to relieve ourselves in the jungle at any times - apparently bad things have happened in the past to people that just couldn't hold it any longer.

In the shadow of two of the highest peaks in the Virgunas, still blanketed in a morning mist, we set off full of energy and excitement. It was a gentle slope through green farm fields and past mud huts that the farmers called home. Kids would rush out to us and wave, shouting, "Hallo!" to greet us as we huffed up the slight incline, many of the group unused to elevations above sea level. It was a cool morning, but all of the clothing precautions for the jungle were stored in our packs as the sweat began to run down our bodies, forming dark patches on our clothing. Later though, for protection from thorny plants and bugs, the items would need to be recovered, but for now they were unnecessary insulation.

It seemed longer than it actually was since the burn was already setting in, but we finally reached the park boundaries, marked by a short rock wall running off in both directions, just in front of a bamboo forest. The dirt trail we had been using cut through the wall and into the dark, most of the light now being blocked by the tall trees and flora hanging high overhead. It was difficult for our eyes to adjust as they shot open wide to the beautiful scene, previously acclimated to fields with the occasional cow.

The trail wound through this bamboo as it sharply began to reach higher elevations, sometimes at such an incline that porters were required to practically pull us up a steep embankment of mud. In the process we were covered in filth, struggling to find a clean spot in our clothing, as the porters and guides remained a fresh-washed clean, almost as though they just took their clothes off the clothesline.

It didn't matter though, we were now on a mission to see the gorillas and it didn't matter how filthy we got just so long as we got one spectacular photograph that we brag about to our family and friends. It seemed like what was an interest in the previous day, in a manner of minutes on the hike became an obsession as we were all so intent on getting to the group. At any other place we each would've turned around, scoffing at the hike, and gone back home. But this was different, this was to see the mountain gorillas, and we would all make it even if it killed us.

"I can't do it, I can't do it," one of our group members said, having struggled with the hike due to the elevation and trail conditions.

"Hey, look down at your feet," I said sharply.

"Yeah..."

"Well, shut the fuck up, you're doing it!"

I couldn't believe I was doing it though either, easily the most difficult hike of my life, as I was walking on branches and vines that had been pushed down on the side of the valley. Shortly before we left our packs and the friendly confines of the muddy trails for a more off road type of experience, and it was anything short of ankle twisting as we followed our guides deeper into the jungle. And no matter what was admitted, we were all worried about tumbling down the side and become entangled in a mess that would become next to impossible to escape.

Still, we were doing it, going to see the gorillas, even if it would kill us.

It didn't matter if, according to Fossey, "In their greed to obtain photographs, tourists and uninvited film crews came to pose almost as much of a threat to the gorillas as poachers did." We were going to see them. They were habituated and we were intent to get there and spend our time with them, having traveled all this way - more than 33 straight hours to get to Rwanda for me - as it became more and more of an obsession.

I justified my greed and lust by thinking back, once again, to Olle and Antarctica. It also didn't hurt that, just the night previous, I read a positive note about eco-tourism in Dian Fossey's Gorillas in the Mist:

On the other hand, promotion of tourism, if properly directed, might well prove
profitable on a nationwide basis and thus compel the one-to-one reapers of
wildlife proceeds to give way to the rule of the majority. This aim might be
accomplished in Africa - a continent where tribalism, nepotism, and distinct
class systems have evolved - only by consistent, uncompromising individuals able
to consider the needs of the animals before their own.

I was an uncompromising individual at this point, and intent on seeing the gorillas so I could now sit here and write about them and how inspiring they are; I was hoping my efforts and words would in turn inspire and bring a greater awareness to their difficulties. But anything I had read previous, even in Fossey's book, had actually prepared me for what I would see next, after such a trying trek, and that was my first gorilla.

They sat contentedly amongst what was ultimately their lunch, barely intersted in our presence. They knew we were there, but years of habituation had prevented their caring anything past a glance that said to us, "Oh, it's you again."

We were in awe though, shutters clicking away for that one great photo, as we watched them do the most natural of things - eat lunch, play, and then prepare for a nap. It was all so simple, but it glued all of us as though we were watching the next Academy Award winning picture. But, as difficult as it was in my rapture, I managed to remove myself from the lense at times and just appreciate what I was seeing and remember it for something more than just a moment through a lense.

Encountering the mountain gorillas was an experience that cannot be duplicated or matched. My discarded clothing, so mud-covered that I could not argue it back in my suitcase, can be replaced, but the memories of my first African safari and gorilla encounter will always be special. It is a changing experience as my impression of them has gone from a King Kong-like beast to a gentle and caring creature, intent on it's own survival, in just a matter of four short hours of hiking and observation.

And with that change, so left my doubt over the journey. My superficial concern for the gorillas safety was replaced by a caring that can only be gained in such a special encounter. Or, as Dian Fossey wrote in her journal before her murder in her home at the Karisoke Research Center on December 26, 1985, "When you realize the value of all life, you dwell less on what is past and concentrate on the preservation of the future."

To help protect the gorillas, or for your chance to win a trip for two to Rwanda to see them for yourself, check out The Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International.

Not Doing New York Like a New Yorker

Mon, 05 Jul 2010 15:48:24 +0100

The sun was just beginning to set, and the humidity lift, as I strolled along a path, coming upon a small dog park on the west side of Madison Square Park, just under the shadow of the highly-photographed Flatiron Building. The urge to people watch suddenly struck me so I plopped down on a bench and watched the pet owners come and go, all the while wondering if they would one day come to look more like their dog than they had hoped when they purchased the animal.

I sniggered at this a bit, but then the music started and quickly distracted me from my thoughts. I leaned to the left on the bench, peering around a row of bushes, and saw a deep green lawn covered in blankets and people with a stage at the far end. Apparently it was a free music night in the park and I was just in time to see the Celtic band Solas take the stage. And surrounding them was a crowd of New Yorkers intent on enjoying a beautiful night after a likely long day at work.

I slid over on my bench and gazed at the spectacle as it had drawn a sizeable audience that I had missed in my silent mocking bliss of pet owners out for an evening stroll. As I enjoyed the evening and music the thought crossed my mind how it might just be possible that I was enjoying the cliche, as I've read in so many articles, of doing New York like a New Yorker.

Was this possible? I mean, I'm not from New York, so can I really do New York like a New Yorker?

I balked at the idea and continued to tap my toe to the music, ultimately getting energized enough to walk the paths through the rest of the small park. As I did so I came to the conclusion that I actually was doing New York just like a New Yorker at that moment as there were obviously very few tourists in the park, the bulk still across the street taking photos of the Flatiron Building bathed in the setting sun.

As I walked I wrestled with the idea that of it being possible for me to do not just this city, but any city, like a local. After all, I don't live and work there, so how exactly is it possible for me to cross the line from hotel guest and visitor to an actual New Yorker?

I shrugged at the question and kept on my way to the Shake Shack, a suggested snack stop while I was in the park. And when I finally found it, at the end of a line that as long as my...well, a long line, I decided to say, "Screw it, I'm not New Yorker enough to stand in that line," and continued on my way, all the while enjoying my first night in the big city by not doing it like a New Yorker.

TBEX 2010 ~ New York City

Tue, 29 Jun 2010 18:47:59 +0100

I wanted to travel to New York City for the Travel Blog Exchange (TBEX) conference to try to become a better blogger, as well as to meet some people I had talked with on Twitter for quite some time. I wouldn't exactly say I wanted to network since, to me, that implies business, and blogging about travel is definitely more of a hobby and passion of mine than anything like a business. For me, going to New York City was just a way to meet up with a bunch of friends who also like writing about travel, and to exchange some ideas in person that we each have about it.

I arrived in town a few days before the weekend conference and took some time to see the sights, which I'll write about later, since a New York City Pass was included in the conference package. I took the time to relax and enjoy myself, which I did, but I found that by the time TBEX came around, I was wiped out from all the walking I had done. Sure, I had picked up a subway pass, which got my around seemlessly, but I tried to fit in so much that I was just exhausted and happy to be sitting in a chair in an air conditioned room with other travel folks.

The conference started with a morning talk about passion and wanderlust by Jim Benning and Michael Yessis of World Hum. I really enjoyed hearing from them, but even more so on the panel they moderated and spoke on called "Travel Writing: Upping Your Game" that followed up their talk. On their panel I really learned a lot about what I should change and why I should, as how I've written stories in the past hasn't always been the best way. So, as I work to become a better writer and blogger, I'll definitely be taking their points into consideration as I work to improve.

There were three other panels on the first day about video for the web, working with PR, and finding a niche, as well as a complimentary lunch and prize giveaways. I enjoyed all of the events, but my mind kept wandering back to the first panel as that was the one I was most looking forward to when I first saw the itinerary.

Drinks at various after parties followed for many of the attendees, one of which I stopped at for a brief time, and everyone seemed to be having a blast mingling with all of the other bloggers. And by the looks of things Sunday morning, the second day of TBEX, it would appear that some enjoyed themselves a bit too much as it was such a great opportunity to be in New York City with so many other great writers and bloggers, not to mention online friends. I'll be honest though, I was lame and grabbed a pizza and headed back to my hotel room for the night since I was exhausted from the previous days sightseeing.

The Sunday morning itinerary started a little later to allow folks to rest up a bit after the night of celebration, but I arrived a bit early for the breakfast and to do a bit of mingling. I liked this set up so much better than the massive credentialing line I stood in the first day, left, since it was a bit more open and didn't force anyone to stand in the hot morning sun.

In truth though, the sun would've been worth it after listening to Gary Arndt talk about "Travel Porn." His talk about how to draw regular readers to a blog, instead of one-timers, was not just informative, but also very entertaining. And I'm sure if a poll was taken from TBEX attendees on their favorite talk, Arndt's would probably be at the top of the list as the reaction was unmatched on the weekend.

The panels that followed Arndt were about travel writing ethics, monetizing strategies and podcasting. The last session was unfortunately cut a bit short, and the only reason I can think why is because an excerpt blog reading that was done may've gone a bit longer than expected. But really, in truth, TBEX could've gone another full day and I think someone probably would've still been cut short as there were always lots of hands in the air with questions, and others interested in knowing more.

At the end of it all I'd like to put my finger on it and say that I learned this, or I learned that, but I think it's really too early to say anything along those lines as I have yet to actually incorporate anything. Sure, I definitely walked about with some good ideas about story structure, using video, creating my own niche, and how to ultimately, maybe one day, make a living by doing this, but right now that's all it is - ideas. And I'm happy with those ideas and the opportunities I had to meet and talk with so many other great bloggers and writers that I've come to know and respect online.

And now let the planning begin for TBEX 2011 ~ Vancouver!

Rwanda ~ Kwita Izina & World Environment Day

Tue, 22 Jun 2010 02:01:58 +0100

One of two big events that our group was to partake in during our trip to Rwanda was the baby gorilla naming ceremony - Kwita Izina. The other, a trek to see the gorillas in the mountains, would take place the next day. And everyone in the group was nothing short of excited for both events as we knew they'd be the two biggest highlights we'd take home as memories in an amazingly wonderful country.

The sixth annual naming celebration was taking place in conjunction with World Environment Day, Rwanda being the global host country. And the dignitaries and celebrities were certainly on hand to represent and bring awareness to what many believe is the most important problem in the world today - man's effect on the environment.

We were shown to our seats in the "International Guests" section of the VIP tent, but I'm next to certain that it was only because of a language barrier between us and the hostess as we found ourselves actually sitting amongst various ambassadors. And, once he arrived, we were only eleven seats away from Rwandan President Paul Kagame. None of us complained of what was most certainly a mistake, but instead sat in a manner so as not to draw attention to ourselves; some even got up to walk around, leaving their belongings to hold their spots, to check out the happenings around the rest of the grounds.

Not much was happening elsewhere though as the epicenter of the event was clearly around the stage erected at the foot of the misty Virunga Mountains and Volcanoes National Park, the home of the mountain gorillas.

Just like the previous night's Igitaramo celebration, the Kwita Izina ceremony was another great day of music and dancing. The costumes were nothing short of great, and the performers were even better as their energy was electric. I enjoyed every minute of the spectacular celebration, but quite honestly had to force myself to put down my camera to stop and just enjoy the event as well.

The dancing and musical performances continued on through much of the morning, but the time finally arrived to name the fourteen new baby gorillas born over the previous year to various groups in the mountains. Various people of importance to Rwanda were extended the honor of choosing a name for one of the new babies, a gesture that actually helps researchers track and monitor them in the wild, but the person most talked about and anticipated was Hotel Rwanda actor Don Cheadle, who was on a whirlwind trip to Africa of two days to be present at the ceremony.
In a news conference following the ceremony and lunch, Cheadle talked about the importance of the protecting the environment, and how it can also relate to tourism. And that is something that's quite vital to the people of Rwanda as the Rwanda Development Board, our group's host, hoped to generate $187 million USD in tourism this year from 750,000 visitors. The excitement I witnessed at the event, as well as the many people trekking to see the gorillas, leads me to believe that these may be modest numbers, but investment and expansion in Rwanda are still taking place as more and more people feel safe in returning.

President Kagame also held a news conference, just prior to Don Cheadle, where he too spoke of the importance of the environment and tourism for Rwanda. And as I listened to him calmly and eloquently respond to a slew of reporters questions, I couldn't help but find myself agreeing with what he was saying as I knew it would ultimately lead to helping a species on the brink of extinction; fewer than 1,000 mountain gorillas exist in the wild as they've been ravaged by poaching, disease, and a loss of natural habitat.

The United Nations Environment Program Executive Director and Under-Secretary General Achim Steiner touched on this, while congratulating Don Cheadle on being named UN Goodwill Ambassador at the event, and the importance of protecting the environment:

Thanks to TravelingAnnafor shooting the video with my spare camera.

As the Kwita Izina ceremony ended, we wrapped up our interviews and headed back to the hotel for what was to be, once again, a very early night as call time for our gorilla trek the next day would be one of the earliest of the trip. It's impossible to complain at such a thing though, despite being up half the night with anticipation, as what we were going to see was a rare opportunity at watching a critically endangered species in their own environment, high in the Virunga Mountains.

Of course, with that said, none of us were prepared for exactly what that would all entail.

Rwanda ~ Igitaramo

Thu, 17 Jun 2010 23:52:23 +0100

The drive from Kigali to Ruhengeri in Rwanda is nothing short of spectacular. And for once, while traveling, it paid off to be tall since I was able to commandere the front passenger seat for the drive. After all of those years of trying to squeeze my big legs into a coach seat on a flight, I finally was able to put them to good use and have the best seat in the car for the beautiful drive - where we emphatically learned why Rwanda is known as The Land of a Thousand Hills.

The drive went smoothly, but we arrived in Ruhengeri later than expected. Why specifically I cannot say since we only made one pre-planned stop to snap a few photos en route. We were almost immediately approached by a group of kids in the area as we did this, and thankfully one of the other group members had brought a sack of candy to give out in such a situation. I was disappointed with myself for not having thought of this as well, but I was so squeezed for carry on suitcase space that it was probably for the best.

We were expecting to go to the Igitaramo, a local celebration around the Kwita Izina gorilla naming ceremony, when we arrived in Ruhengeri, but due to the time we missed all of it but a couple of short hours. It's disappointing too to think of what we missed since the dancing we were able to watch was nothing short of masterful; I loved every minute we were there and was not disappointed in the least that I decided to leave my nicer camera in the hotel room since it allowed me to pull away from the lense a bit and just enjoy the celebration.

I'm not actually certain if this was the case, but it seemed as though our arrival was expected as we were almost immediately escorted to a row of front seats under a VIP tent. The lot of us piled on in, me pulling up the rear as I surveyed the situation, and took in the amazing dance put on by who I could only assume was a local group of both kids and adults. Some were dressed traditionally as they danced, and others were masked as the paraded around the grassy hill the event took place upon - it was all extremely well organized and performed.

Only about halfway through our time there did I realize, when someone leaned over and whispered in my ear, that I was sitting next to the Prime Minister of Rwanda - Bernard Makuza. I didn't recognize him from an award ceremony we stopped at in Kigali briefly the previous night, so I only shrugged and smirked as I had been sitting next to him all this time and didn't even realize it. I had traveled all that way and didn't even immediately realize that I was rubbing elbows with one of the most important people in the country. Well, truthfully, it was actually with his wife since he was another seat over from me.

During a pause in the celebration all of us got up, lead by the Prime Minister, and sampled a local bread that was being made during the ceremony. Sadly, this sparked everyone's appetite as it had been quite some time since we had last eaten a meal. So, despite coming late, we had to leave early to head back for dinner, as well as bed since our wake up call the next morning with the Kwita Izina ceremony would come earlier than most of us would have prefered in our jetlagged state.

None of us would even dream of missing it though as it would surely be a day to remember...