To inaugurate the « unlimited mileage » package of our hire Opel Corsa, we decide to head for Namibia. The South-african discovery will fill the second part of the trip. The asphalt ribbon unrolls over 700km up to the south Namibian border. The road is desesperately straight and the dotted line on the ground as hypnotizing as the triteness of the scenery. We spend the night just after the border crossing.
In the morning, we start our first untarred road to reach the Hobas village. On the way, we catch sight of elegant springboks which look us up and down before clearing off making some prodigious several-meter leaps. A rectangular water tank and few huts announce the beginning of Hobas. This village is the departure point to visit the Fish river canyon; the second largest canyon in the world after the Colorado one in the USA. Unlike its elder brother we can only follow inside by kayak, a trail describes the meanders of this canyon. A great 5-day 85-kilometer trek to reach the Ai-Ais village and the possibility to catch a shuttle back to Hobas. However before embarking on the path, a local responsible requires a medical certificate for the trekking ability we don't have. Impossible to negociate, we'll have to content ourselves with admiring the canyon from the upper part. We thought about looking for a doctor in the campsite beside the village but we finally changed our mind.
A long, straight, clay-reddish, about-10-kilometer lane ends on a viewpoint. The monotony in no way unveils what is waiting for us. We slam the door and the suspense is still there. A few steps ahead and the fracture suddenly appears. A break as emotionnal as geological. In the past, a plain that a river gnawed for millions of years and down to several hundreds meters deep. A grandiose spectacle. Hairpin curves, rocky different-level plateaus, sharpened astoundingly-proportioned ridges. Long minutes of silence to contemplate, to scan and to get intoxicated.
And to wonder at all of this, less that 10 tourists. Lucky we are, but for sure the touristic potential in Namibia is huge and the authorities take a long time developping it.
The next day, back at the scene to enjoy a sunrise. The day goes on at the edge of the cliff. Strange trees dot the dry ground, they are called the kokerboom or « quiver trees » A tree and cactus blend. It's among its gnarled branches the social republican has decided to build its nest. This bird helped by mates build the nest for the whole community. A giant multiple-entry nest. Their motto: to take the advantage of the fellow-citizens mutual aid in order to have a low-cost accomodation but keeping a sort of privacy however.
Keyword - feelings -
Thursday 19 June 2008
The maze of Fish river canyon
By dorian on Thursday 19 June 2008, 16:19 - RTW2-Namibia
Sunday 4 November 2007
In another world at Rotorua
By dorian on Sunday 4 November 2007, 19:10 - RTW-New Zealand
In the traveller's life, the transition stages are numerous, a few moments of doubt are quickly driven away by times of intense emotions that remind us how privileged we are to be here. I never wondered before what would be the sensation to walk in another world. Now, I know.
Our first contact with this other planet goes through Te Puia. One of the 5 places in the world where it's possible to see natural geysers (the others are located in Iceland, in Kamtchaka (Russia), in the Yosemite park (USA) and in El Tatio (Chile)). The limestone plateau is swollen with 2 bulges. Chimneys that the subterranean pressure can be released through. But sometimes, as it's the case here, the outlet of the gases comes with a gush of water. The 10-meter-high main geyser gets all the looks and surrounds itself with steam. A natural wonder that regularly gushes out from the ground.
The next day, we head for the thermal wonder of Wai-o-Tapu. A brief stop at the geyser that precisely triggers at 10h15 every day. How is it possible ? Actually, the geyser doesn't have a natural activation and the park's employee dips a piece of soap into the chimney and starts the geyser. Everybody is quietly sitting and looks at the show, dumbstruck.
We go back to the Wai-o-Tapu park. The mixing of an important subterranean activity and a sustained acidic action gives an eerie atmosphere to this part of the world. Gaseous fumes which put up science-fiction scenery of a remote planet. The bowels of the earth spit its venom out, as a warning. And despite the hostility of the different suppurating injuries of the earth, that nature is weirdly beautiful. The colours perfectly match, the guttural sonorities of the silica mouths are diabolically appealing and the smoky evaporations smoothly wrap anybody that approaches it.
Here we are in this dangerously attractive world we swallow through all our senses. This kind of world we can't or don't want to leave. Intoxicated and pleased with that.
To understand the profusion of colours that emanates from the ground, a glossary gives the link between the colour and the chemical element. So, yellow corresponds to the sulphur, orange points out traces of antimony, white is similar to the silica, dark red is reserved for ferrous oxide, black expresses the presence of graphite or a carbon/sulphur mixture, purple symbolizes the manganese and light green shows the arsenic, and greener it is, more arsenic there is!
Listing all these chemical elements, we understand the area of Wai-o-Tapu concentrates a peculiar and inhospitable geothermal activity. Here, the different spots are calling the devil's house, the sulphur grottoe, the thunder crater, the devil's bath or the hell crater.
A few grottoes let a blackish liquid get out ; on the ground, small puddles of seething sulphur, the orange-edged champagne pool throws up a large steam cloud which, according to the wind, surrounds you and let you puzzled about the breathed residues.
I stop talking, let's go for the colours and smokes fireworks, let you delight in the eerie landscapes of Wai-o-Tapu.
The highlight of the show : champagne's pool.
Sunday 14 October 2007
Monuments around Agra
By dorian on Sunday 14 October 2007, 22:08 - RTW-India
8h. Train station of Agra. Our time is short here as we get off the train. One day and a half and our plan is full with the differents places we want to see. We trust a tuk-tuk's driver that offers us to drive us at the castle of Fatehpur Sikri, 40km away from the city. We'll meet in one hour, just a moment to have breakfast from the rooftop of the guesthouse with a nice view on the Taj Mahal. Despite the relative distance, its whiteness is radiant and splashes down all the other buildings. Dwellings are nothing but pale, tasteless houses dramatically crushed by the marble mausoleum. We forget what we have in the plate. Our last steps in India are going to be magical.
We go for the castle of Fatehpur Sikri. Despite the undeniable beauty of its outlines, my thoughts turn back to Agra and the desire of trudging in the gardens and on the marble floor of the white mausoleum. Our visit at the castle is short and we go back to Agra.
As we arrive, we stop at the red fort. Well-preserved, Agra can vie with the innumerable castles scattered in the Rajasthan state. The lawns and gardens bring out the straight and vertical lines of the red fortress. The interior of the fort is composed of myriad of rooms that look out onto one another. They are sometimes separate by some interior courtyards. A part of the fortification flanks the river and several openings turn our looks towards the opposite bank. The Taj Mahal's outline looms in the distance among lands barely spoilt by the human hand. My eyes are magnetized by this white monument. An obsession since I arrived in India that changed into unbearable desire since I got off the train.
We keep on visiting the monuments of Agra with the baby Taj Mahal. We cross the river and stop in front of this replica of its illustrious "big brother". Just a sample before dashing to the Taj Mahal.
We go alongside the river by tuk-tuk. A few meters by foot, we race down from the small embankment and our looks set on the white-radiant funerary palace. The river separates us from the backside of the mausoleum. The quintessence of the moghul art reflects the last glows of the sun. A spike-ended dome walled by 4 minarets and hemmed in by 2 brick red mosques. We tread along the bank to contemplate the monument from different angles. Harmonious proportions and calming colours. One of these architectural jewels the History bequeathes to the Humanity. One of these treasures which beautifies the brochures of the travel agencies. And however, despite all the photographies taken by the best photographers, the emotion is there, intact. Perfect symmetry between the 2 mosques that embrace the mausoleum and marvellous reflection into the calm waters of the river. The marble palace floats above the time, above the reality. So do we.
Little by little, the mausoleum darkens with the veil of the night.
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