Bandar Abbas, Iran and Kuwait

So I am now one of the few Americans who have been to Iran. I went on an organized tour of Bandar Abbas. The organized tour, while nice, and safe, didn’t really give me the opportunity to get a sense of the local culture.

The Shiite Syed Mozafar Mosque (cool)





Here is what I did take away. Bandar Abbas is a very poor city and I don’t know if that is representative of the nation. The people were curious and very friendly. There was a surprising amount of English written around the city. That is not to say there was a lot, but there were signs that said things like "City Center" and street names. I did not expect to see English. People at the sites knew a couple English words, such as "Thank you." Although Muslim, it did not seem oppressively so. Our tour guide, a woman who laughed a lot, wore something which covered her hair only in the most token of fashion. In general, though some were dressed in what I would classify as western attire, women were covered from wrists to neck to ankles. Most were dressed in more traditional Muslim attire however.

All in all, I regret (though my parents most definitely do not) that I did not venture out to the city center outside the organized tour to get a real sense of the place. Though I have been to Iran, I don’t really feel that I experienced the place. (stupid)

Iranian money (my only souvenir from Iran)



As we traveled away from Iran in the night, we passed oil rigs with burning release valves. I have sailed a lot of seas, but seeing what appears to be fire in a light fog on the ocean at night is very eerie.

Today we are in Kuwait City which is fairly western. The skyline of high rises could just as easily be an American city. The dress code is casual and people were allowed to go ashore in any attire they desired. (The ship, in order to protect our guests and crew, has been enforcing the local dress customs as we travel to Muslim countries. People who are not properly dressed according to local customs are forbidden to leave the ship.)



There was a haze in the air of Kuwait City. I thought the haze was fog, but I have been told that it is actually smoke from the burning oil fields.

I was not able to go ashore, but fellow crew members came back with tales of McDonalds, malls, nice beaches, lots of large SUVs (gas prices not being an issue) and a few Americans tried to get to the border with Iraq (crazy people).

Kuwaiti money (my only souvenir from Kuwait)



Tomorrow, Bahrain.

Iran Tomorrow

I sit in my cabin, in rough seas, pondering tomorrow.

I will be in Bandar Abbas, Iran tomorrow. Talk about places I never thought I would ever see.

As an American, traveling with fifty to a hundred fifty other Americans, all wealthy, I can’t help but think that we are the perfect target.

Nonetheless, I am looking forward to the thrill and to see what feels like a forbidden land. (I have my headscarf all laid out for the morning.)

The ship has gone through some interesting preparations for tomorrow. We have to be a completely dry (alcohol-free) ship while in port and in Iranian waters. In case you have never been on a cruise, a dry cruise is practically a contradiction. It is quite an effort to collect every last ounce of alcohol on a cruise ship, from every crew cabin, every guest cabin, every mini-bar, every bar and every office (and there is a lot of alcohol in offices, my office had about 12 bottles).

Areas of the ship, such as our promenade deck, are being closed for our time in port. This is to adhere to local dressing customs. Rather than run the risk that women and men will not properly cover themselves while in areas of the ship readily visible to shore, the ship has decided to close those areas.

We are still somewhat curious as to how those officials who come onboard will react to the women onboard who will be dressed according to western standards. We are especially curious because our officers onboard in charge of immigration processing are women.

Anyway, the rough seas are getting to me. So I am going to sign off.

Stupid: Terrorism and fear (and rough seas)

Cool: Seeing forbidden land.

Safari

I went on safari in Africa… and I have the nice white girl sunburn and peeling skin to prove it.

So it was 8:15 in the morning. I was sitting in my office starting a normal day at work, talking to my coworker when he says, “Why don’t you go on the crew tour?”

I thought a moment. Could I really blow off a day at work?

Then reality check came in and said sarcastically, “You are going to be in Africa sooooo frequently in life. Why blow off a day sitting at a computer for a day in the African sun potentially seeing big game?”

So poof, I ran out of my office, changed into my safari attire, grabbed my camera, water and not enough sun block from my cabin. Ten minutes later I was on the dock in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, with a bunch of other cruise ship crew members, waiting for a bus that would take us to a game reserve.

An hour bus ride later we arrived at Lalibela Game Reserve. We were greeted with champagne flutes of orange-like juice and an African musical performance. (While we enjoyed the performance, we were politely asked to sign away our rights to sue them if we got eaten by a lion.)

Then we piled into an open top jeep that amazingly sat ten people comfortably.
I must admit, my expectations were low. I figured a nice day driving around the African wilderness enjoying the sunshine would be worth blowing off work and the cost of the crew tour.



And ten minutes into the ride… we were 30 feet from a pride of lions. It is a bit of a thrill to be sitting so close and so vulnerable so near to a bunch of lions. I mean really, there was nothing stopping them from making us lunch, except mid-day lethargy, the heat and perhaps the overpowering smell of sun block. We enjoyed watching the lions for a while, and the lions seemed a bit annoyed but tolerant of us. (It is, after all, a game reserve; they see the jeeps in the morning, afternoon and evening.)



We continued our drive on roughly forged trails through the African landscape passing herds of antelope like things (I didn’t catch the names of all the animals), zebras and giraffes.





Our next major thrill was a family of elephants huddled beneath the shade of a tree. Elephants, being more docile than the lions, allowed the jeep to come real close. We could not have been more than ten feet away from the elephants. They watched us, watching them as they flapped their ears continuously to cool themselves.



Then we heard a noise from behind us. There was another group of elephants behind us. This made our guide very nervous. Apparently you don’t want to be between two groups of elephants. They passed right around us, reach out and touch them close. We survived the encounter.



From there, the guide went searching for rhinos, through valleys, over hills, through meadows. Bounce bounce bounce in the jeep, frying in the hot mid-day African sun. Drinking lots of water, applying again and again sun block.

And then the guide delivered, and there was a rhino. The rhino was the most bothered by our presence and walked casually away.

Our final sighting was a bunch of bumps on the water. They were hippos, but honestly, they just looked like some bumps on the water. All they had exposed was their eyes and noses.



Following a few hours on safari, we returned to a lodge for a delicious late lunch. I really liked the lodge for the details, like antler door knobs and ostridge egg chandeliers.



An hour drive later, a quick costume change, and I was back in the office at work.

(If you are going to play hooky from work, why not go on safari in Africa!)

Cool: Safari.

Return to Ship Life

Well I have returned, after nearly two years land-bound, to ship life. And with my return comes a return to adventure.

My journey started at my home in Los Angeles, where it was 70F, and my destination was Cape Town, where it was 80F. I tell you this because, in this context, wearing sandals, light-weight pants, and a t-shirt on the plane seems a reasonable choice. Perhaps not so much when changing terminals through snow at JFK. Silly me, thinking I would not have to leave the terminal to catch my connection. (Stupid: flight connection transfers that require you to walk through snow.) Boy my toes were cold.

The trip was LA to New York (5 hours), a layover in New York (4 hours), plane de-icing in New York (2 hours on the tarmac), New York to Johannesburg (15 hours), quick run through immigration in Johannesburg (1.5 hours), and Johannesburg to Cape Town (2 hours).

Now, trips like this I am fairly used to. This is the second time I have flown to Cape Town from LA. And I have done other long hauls like LA to Auckland, New Zealand. The one thing I really want after a trip like that, a nice hot shower. (Do you see where this is going?) Stupid: Hotels without hot water.

OK, two stupids out of the way.

Cape Town is a stunningly topographically beautiful city with a series of huge bays and of course its central feature Table Mountain, a huge plateau in the middle of the city. (Cool: How gorgeous Cape Town is.)


(My picture really does not do it justice.)

Having been to Cape Town before, my goal was more social than sight-seeing. My girlfriend, who I worked with in Santa Barbara California, now lives in Cape Town with her husband. So a quick cold shower and text message later, she picked me up and we were off to have drinks. (Cool: Catching up with old friends.) The following morning she gave me a tour of Cape Town.

Then it was off to work on the ship. Returning to the ship after vacation, or in my case, nearly two years on land, I imagine is a lot like being a rock star. Every person you pass greets you warmly and welcomes you back. Many people are excited to see you and can’t wait to catch up. You get to be the exciting popular person of the day. People would stop by my office just to welcome me back and there were lots of hugs. It is an awesome experience. (Cool: returning to warm welcomes onboard.)

More coming…

Switzerland

(This post is dedicated to my friend Michael Dünki who was an extraordinary host showing me an incredible time in Switzerland.)

Switzerland is idyllic. The countryside is endless foothills equally meadow and forest, behind which are the stereotypical snow-capped mountains. I had the great fortune to go hiking in the Swiss Alps on a marvelous summer day. There was still snow on the trail, but the sun was warm on our backs. The senses are overwhelmed somehow with the simplicity. The air is crisp, clean and quintessential perfect mountain air. The views are of green valleys, dotted with wooden houses with steep roofs, bordered by tall snow-capped mountains. But the sound is what I found most enchanting of all. Roaming the meadows of Switzerland are cows adorned with large cow bells. Drifting on the air is the sound of a continuous collect of bells, like a quiet distant wind chime.





Notice the big bell on the cow's neck:



The Swiss are an interesting people with a very great and deep appreciation of rules. I noticed this trait while waiting for lights to change. In the States, if you are waiting to cross the street and there are no cars coming in any direction, you don’t wait for the light to change. You cross the street against the light.

I never saw a Swiss person do this. Out of curiosity, I sat and watched people at a light. The light cycle was about four minutes. It didn’t matter. The Swiss would wait the four minutes for the light to cycle rather than cross against the light, even with no cars in sight for the entire cycle. I think this is indicative of the entire culture’s general attitude toward rules and regulations. There is a fundamental, inherit sense that rules and regulations exist for a reason and apply to everyone. This is quite contrary to the States, where we often feel that rules don’t apply to us or not in a particular scenario; if you doubt this, consider the last time you exceeded the speed limit.

One of the minor things I found so impressive about Switzerland was the roads. They were in perfect condition, everywhere. Since the country is so hilly, it is often more efficient to travel through the hills and mountains than around them. The network of tunnels was impressive.

And as if to emphasize that they are Swiss and time keeping is important, the time is posted above major roadways. OK, this is a bit of an exaggeration. They have sign posts where they can dynamically update information for drivers. (My friend indicated that they might be used for information about particular festivals or road conditions.) But lacking any announcements on road conditions, they post the time. I never saw an announcement. To me it just seemed like every few miles there was a sign post announcing the current time.



Let’s talk about food. The Swiss LOVE their cheese and their meat. It seems that half their markets are dedicated to an assortment of cheese and meat preserves of one type or another. Eating in Switzerland I noticed that cheese is a component of every dish. This makes sense in a way; all those cows idly chiming away can’t merely be for decoration.

Another aspect of Switzerland, which was so stereotypical and so true were the rustic wood houses with steep roofs and vibrant flower boxes. I wish I had taken more pictures of these houses.



Healthcare is a hot topic in America today. I found the way Switzerland addressed healthcare fascinating. All Swiss are required to have healthcare insurance which they pay for themselves. I have to admit that I like this solution but I also see the problem. There is simply no way we would achieve anywhere near compliance in the US. It has many benefits though. It fosters competition in the health insurance industry. People get to choose what insurance plan they pay for so there are many choices at a variety of prices. In some ways it is an additional tax, but I would rather pay my $120 to a competitive private health insurance company than to a government agency which does not have a fiscal incentive to be efficient. I think it is a great solution, but would also like to hear other people’s thoughts.

Lastly, one of my favorite things to do is take pictures of funny signs. This festival was clearly not named by a native English speaker.



And finally, stupid and cool.

Stupid: I honestly cannot think of anything stupid in Switzerland.

Cool: Everything about it, Switzerland: the alps, the cheese, the cows, the time, the appreciation of rules, the look of the houses, everything.