Nico: “The flight date you booked was 14 March 2018, today is 14 April 2018”.
Riana and the boys are standing in the queue with me, they are tired and fed-up from all the rushing and running in-between flights. We are on the Lima airport in Peru, just rushed off a flight out of Patagonia to make the check in for the flight to Iquitos in the heart of the Amazon within northern Peru. We want to reach Iquitos early in the afternoon in order to still make our 3 to 4 hour boat journey on the Amazon River to the Lodge, but now we do not have an airline ticket. It seems I made a mistake on our departure date when buying the tickets online 3 months earlier. Continue reading “The Amazon: On Surviving (Yet Another) Boat Ride”
Our trip to Canada towards the end of 2016 and into 2017 was mesmerizing. Not only did we start out 2017 with a beautiful 5 km Resolution Run in Vancouver, but the most snow in more than 10 years turned Lynn Valley, our base in North Vancouver, into a winter wonderland.
We are nearing the wide coral shelf that lines the shore, the swell is getting bigger and bigger, the waves more frequent. We are returning home early from the reef around Mnemba atoll where the wind got too strong and the water too choppy for the boys to enjoy the snorkeling. But not before we had the most amazing time swimming with and photographing a pod of 8 dolphins! Continue reading “Zanzibar: On Surviving a Shipwreck and Other Fun Experiences”
The rusty 50 m long ladder sways back and forth under my weight. I gaze back at the cobalt blue water more 100 m below where a beam of sunlight dances across the surface. We are returning from a sneak peak into the bowels of mother earth and it was spectacular. I again strain to get a last glimpse of the water below and feel utterly at peace, suspended in space. Jolted back to reality by the creaks and groans of the ladder, I wonder if this old ramshackle piece of iron will hold my weight all the way to the top. Luckily I am also fastened to a jumar which easily slides up the safety rope, but still I feel uneasy. How many people have come this way to stare down at Harasib Lake, one of numerous underground lakes in northern Namibia? Those daring first explorers, who gazed down into the black depths, silently excited of what lay below. I try to imagine myself in their position, a terrifying but at the same time inspiring thought. I am ripped back to reality once more by water dripping from above. I look up through the darkness wavering under a thin sliver of sunlight from above. Water continues to drip on my hands, and I get frustrated, try to swing to the left and the right, but the dripping continues. I look up and realize that it is my own perspiration dripping down from my forehead. I am drenched in sweat.