Switzerland weekend

Ever since our honeymoon, so many years ago, Rebekah and I have spoken longingly of Switzerland and the Lauterbrunnen valley. Thus, when the opportunity arose, we were excited to make our return. Plus, we would be fulfilling a promise we made to each other in 1996 in these very hills.  That commitment was to have children and bring them back here someday.

Despite being one of the uglier times of the year (in between winter and spring), The valley did not disappoint us. This is what you imagine when you think of Switzerland; mountains, waterfalls, cows, small churches, lakes, wooden homes...  

Luckily there was enough snow on the ground for the kids to work on an 'ice cave'. They spent many hours hallowing it out, and vowed to sleep inside it one night (which did not happen by the way).

In the valleys, the waterfalls and rivers were staring to flow. 

Flowers were starting to bloom, and the snow was slowly receding into small dirty piles. 

The fresh chilled water tasted amazing, especially flowing from the many public fountains. 

In a few more weeks, this place would be covered in green grass and colourful blossoms. We were just a bit too early.

However, we came to see the snow. Not a problem. A short, if expensive, tram ride up the cliffs solved that issue.

We arrived to the lip of the valley to find plenty of it, hard packed and a bit slushy. It was not great for skiing (at least for picky skiers), but it made for great hiking.

We set off on a trail to the small village of Murren at the top of the valley.

Shayne stopped along the way to grab an icicle to quench her thirst.

Luckily it was a a calm, somewhat warm day. Lucky for our Nephew Chase anyway, who decided to wear shorts on our snow hike.  He did not complain. 

With Skiing out of the question, we decided to go sledding.  We each grabbed a sledge and made out way to the Funicular train up the mountain.

None of us knew what we were doing. How hard could it be? We figured gravity would do most of the work.

That proved to be true, and before long we were zooming down the mountain trails.  Unfortunately, steering did not come quite as naturally.

Rebekah won the prize for falling off the most cliffs. In fact, she is still limping around today thanks to one of her crashes.

Despite her many adventures, the scenery was breathtaking, and we all descended the mountain in one piece, more or less.

Rebekah had plenty of people to help her hobble back to our apartment that night.

We decided to enjoy a warm Fondue that night. Typical Swiss fare we were told. Plus, food always helps Rebekah feel better. And who does not love melted cheese?

Actually the kids would have preferred melted chocolate to the exotic cheeses, but we really had no idea what we were doing. We were lucky to get one fondue going. 

Zanzibar - Spice Island

After exploring the ancient spice markets of Istanbul, I thought it would be fun for Weston to see where some of these items came from.  So I took him with me to Zanzibar, a historically important island off the coast of Tanzania. At one time Zanzibar was a global hub for spice (cloves), ivory and slaves. In fact it is nicknamed the Spice island (which is also claimed by the a few other locations such as the Maluku islands in Indonesia).  In any case, Zanzibar played a major role in the trade between Arabia, India and Africa, dating back to the Sumerians and Assyrians!

We found ourselves at the domestic airport in Dar es Salaam early (3:30 AM), but had to wait for it to open at 6:00. Before long, we were on board a small prop plane to the Island.

We had front row seats.

Weston said he felt like a rock star disembarking from the plane. He wanted to wave to the crowd, but no one was there but the pilots. 

The capital of Zanzibar, is Stonetown. It is named after the stone buildings made out of coral. It is full of small alleys and interesting doorways.

It was once the seat of a large Arab Sultanate, that controlled most of Eastern Africa. Thus there is a healthy Arab and Islamic influence to the architecture, people and culture.  

Weston enjoyed playing with the kids we found roaming the streets. They seemed to enjoy his attention and energy.

Inside a little beauty shop, we decided to rest our feet and get a tattoo. Why not. 

Weston had a number of ideas tattoo, from dogs to flowers, to more tribal designs.

He decided to make earn some brownie points and opted for  a henna tattoo of our school logo. The Jackson Academy owl "Archemadies".

He did not move for most of the process, so there was little smudging.  The tattoo should last for two weeks. That is good to know, as he bumped into me a few times afterward, leaving nice smudge stains on my arm and clothes, which I can also admire for the next few weeks.

We took some time to visit the old Slave trading post (which has been transformed into a Christian church now.) Before it closed in 1897, it the last major legal slave trading post in the world. In fact, David Livingston championed the effort to shut it down, leveraging the fame he gained exploring these parts. At the time, the British were basically in control of the island, although the Arabs (from Oman) still had great influence.

It was a good lesson to have with Weston. I think it made an impact.

We made sure to  explore the old markets. The spice and fruit markets are the most famous. Once these would have been full of spices and ivory, much of it destined for the markets of Istanbul, and eventually Europe. However, after a visit by Vasco Da Gamma in 1499, the Portugese took over control of the Island from the Arab's.  They used it as a base in their Africa and Asian trade until 1698, when the Oman Sultan took control again.

Eventually the British finally took over in 1890.  

Weston was not interested in buying spices, but did enjoy some fresh coconut juice and watermelon slices.

He even found time to buy local hat.  This has become something of a tradition for him; buying and subsequently losing a hat in all the countries we visit. This time will be different.

We spent some time doing school work and enjoying lunch at a place called Mercury's. Strange name? 

Well it turns out that after the British handed back control of the island to the people of Zanzibar in 1963,  there was a revolt the following year. The majority black population was upset that they had no voice or representation in the new government, which was back in the hands of the Arab and Indian minority. 1000's of Indians and Arabs were targeted and killed in a bloody revolution. It was this violence that forced a young (16 year old) Farrokh Bulsara and his family (of Indian Parsi decent) to flee to England.  This young boy would grow up to be Freddie Mercury of Queen fame.

After lunch, Weston saw some boys swimming and fishing near the pier. He set off to join them, trying to catch fish and squid.

He was oblivious to the giant ferry that docked while they were hunting. Using a shirt as a net, he says they caught some fish and one jellyfish. They set them free.

Stone town is also known (at least locally) for its night food market. Cheap food on the street at night?  We had to check it out. A perk of traveling without Mom. 

 The fresh sugar cane juice (with fresh lime and ginger) was amazing. We had a few cups.

There was an abundance of local seafood and other meat for sale, ready to be selected and placed on the BBQ. A few 'friendly' fishermen wandered the market trying to lure us to their table. So many options.

The locals sat by the water font, to enjoy the action, the food, and even go for a swim.

The Teenagers took turns diving off the wall, preforming all kinds of flips and spins on the way down.

However, we were hungry, and settled on some french fries, a vegetable somosa, beef skewer, garlic flat bread, and fresh marlin.

Of course, the real treat was the Zanzibar pizza. We liked the sweet options - fried bread with fresh mango (or banana - we had both) and covered in chocolate sauce. What is not to like? We went home happy and full. 

Stone town is interesting, but old, dirty and absent of any real beach. Most of the white sand beaches, for which the island is famous,  are on the other side of the island, where the reefs protect the shoreline. We wanted to see them. So we rented a scooter (more on that later), and sped off. We had no idea it would take us almost two hours.

We traveled to Paje, passing farms, mango trees, stone houses, the last bit of jungle on the island and even a troop of red columbus monkeys along the way.  We arrived to storm clouds and low tide. However we were both struck by the sheer size of the expansive white beach and warm turquoise water.

With Rebekah in mind, I knew I should feed my son. I decided a  quick snack of Fanta and an amazing piece of chocolate cookie cake should do the trick?  He seemed to enjoy it. 

Then he was gone - off into the warm water, looking for animals trapped in the tide pools.  The reefs were several hundred meters off shore, with nothing but flat white sand in between.

Soon the water began to rise, but no more then waist deep. And it was calm and clear.

Before we knew it, the kite surfers were out in force. Paje is a mecca for the sport (and for Scandinavians and Dutch tourists). I have to admit, it seemed a great place to learn the sport.

Lots of wind, warm and shallow water for as far as the eye can see. Weston was mesmerised watching the surfers zoom by. Some even close enough to give him a high five!

It was hard to leave the peace and beauty of the east shore, but we had a long ride ahead of us, and wanted to get home before night fall. Plus we could feel the sun burns starting to develop on our arms, backs and faces (sunscreen - what sunscreen?  Sorry Rebekah)

We jumped on the scooter to begin our adventure home. Fortunately I had really improved my ability to drive this manual scooter on the way out. Unfortunately we had a flat. Fortunately, Weston noticed we had a spare. Unfortunately one of the bolts was stuck, and we could not budge the wheel. Fortunately, we ran into some people that were willing to help. Unfortunately, they were not able to get the bolt off either, even with their extra tools. Fortunately their friend was a master mechanic. Unfortunately his own scooter was broken so he had to ride his bike to our location. Fortunately the mechanic was able to save the day, and we made our way into the sunset, an hour or so later. We survived numerous embarrassing stalls, flooding of the engine, wrong turns, police check points, wandering chickens, cows and people, crazy drivers and buses stoping suddenly and randomly along the way, and much more hectic traffic then I assumed we would find on this island, to make it home safe and sound. We both agreed, it was worth it.

We decided to celebrate with a traditional Ethiopian meal, since they were major trade partners with Zanzibar.  We ordered some Injera, a sourdough-risen flatbread with a unique slightly spongy texture.  Weston remarked that is smelled and tasted a bit like Mom's sourdough bread. I was relieved.

In fact the entire meal was served on the Injera, and everything is eaten by hand. To Weston's surprise, he especially enjoyed the goat. "Best goat I have even had" he explained. He was not a fan of the red lentils.  No surprise.   Following dinner we washed our hands, and gingerly made our way home to bed.  Our skin was red and still burning from the days sun. 

 We spent the next day recuperating at the hotel, in the shade. I had lots of work to do, and Weston caught up on home work.

 One last trip to the market for some gifts...keeping to the shadows.

And then we were on a ferry, headed back to Dar for more meetings and work. It was a fun, exciting break.  Weston was a great travel companion. It was nice to share an adventure with someone like him.