Tag Africa

Few documentary films offer more adventure, travel, excitement, danger, cultural education, athleticism and an inside look at human endurance and spirit than Running The Sahara
a true and epic tale of three men who decide to run across the Sahara desert, from West to East. Narrated and executively produced by Matt Damon, this adventure tale is worth of the ‘Abandon the Cube’ seal of approval. These three gentlemen ran for 111 days, covering the width of a continent on their feet. Their support crew and film crew in tow, these folks proved that with determination and drive anything is possible.

My favorite thing about the film was the cultural aspect. One of the three runners was from Taiwan and spoke Chinese. His English was great, but he preferred to do his interviews in Chinese, which added real dimension to the breadth of such a challenge for this Taiwanese runner as well as his two western comrades. Often, the westerners would be upset about something and the Taiwanese man would calmly take an entirely different approach. The film crew kept the lights on while they were running, at rest, eating or sleeping and the result was a really honest portrayal of what three men can turn into during such a self-enforced ordeal. Fights broke out, stupid arguments mostly, that made everyone involved look juvenile and weak. But considering the stress they were all under with the daunting task of running the world’s largest desert, it was understandable and all the runners and support crew tried to be as careful of the other’s emotions as possible. It was almost like watching a Discovery Channel special on a pack of all male lions trying to work together to achieve a certain outcome. As unlikely as a pack of male lions cooperating, this group of men proved the human species was a bit superior (but only by a little bit, at times).

When they entered Libya, they had to have special permission not only to enter the country, but to travel freely throughout. Rather than reject their visa requests a Libyan man agreed to run with them through his country, and provided a security detail to follow the supply and support jeeps. For a pointless journey like running across a desert, these three runners managed to inspire several unlikely characters along the way, including the turban-clad security officer, the government official who runs across his own country in support of their mission and in seek of adventure. For some reason, that man’s simple gesture was warming.

I highly recommend this film, it will make you feel like you are not doing enough with your life, nor taking enough risks. Abandon the cube and do something amazing, like these folks have by jogging across the Sahara. Why you might ask? Well, more importantly, why not? Two cube-abandoned thumbs up at Running the Sahara!

Deck View

We took a 17-day cruise from Venice to Ft. Lauderdale on the MSC Poesia, which had stops in Italy, Tunisia, Spain, Portugal, Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico and the USA. We got a last-minute discount deal, which resulted in our tickets being roughly the same cost as a one-way ticket from Italy to the USA would have been and included 100 GBP of on board credit. Here is our assessment of the cruise:

For the amount we paid, we got a deal on transportation, food and lodging as well as getting to see a few more sites on our way back to the States. However, MSC cruises is not your average cruise line, it began as a cargo shipping company and continues in that capacity with most of the ships in its fleet. Perhaps as a result of those origins, everything on the ship is bare-bones. Everything costs extra, including water. This had the effect of angering a large number of the passengers, who are frequent cruisers and complained that the ‘cheapness’ of this particular cruise line was beyond annoying. Naturally, we did not care much, having literally backpacked our way through rainy Eastern Europe to get there, and were simply happy with having a room and food provided daily.

The food on board was fantastic and we were fattened up quite a bit while on board those two weeks. I imagine a kitchen staff that never leaves the galley from sunrise to well past midnight. It would have been nice, however, if drinks were included, and I don’t mean just alcoholic drinks, all that was available was water or iced tea. Alcoholic drinks were around $10 USD a pop, and hence entirely un worth it. The staff in our area were fantastic, both were from Indonesia, which I am excited to visit someday since our waiters were so friendly and attentive and downright fun.

Disco

The design and layout of the ship were nice, if not delightfully circus tacky. The evening entertainment shows were decent most nights, but some shows were so bad that one was left with a tingling sensation like when you first get up from the dentist’s chair. Their low-budget female singer who appeared on stage almost nightly was so bad that people would walk out when she came on stage. We were surprised that there even was entertainment, so we were happy with whatever we got, but cringed along with everyone else every time this lady singer tried to hit a high note and missed. Now I know how Simon Cowel feels.

The MSC Poesia was labeled a Texas Hold ‘em cruise, which is a poker game with no limits. On board there were daily tournaments, but buy ins were 120 Euro, much more than we could afford to wager, especially given only a few people showed up daily to play. This was a real disappointment as we had planned on making back some of the cruise costs at the tables, only to realized the risk outweighed the potential gains with only 4-6 other players buying in at 120 Euro – the pot wasn’t big enough for the gamble.

In all, we had a great time on the cruise and it was a good way to get healthy, fattened up and ready for our return to the USA. Having backpacked for the last 6 months, it was luxury we were not accustomed to, and we took advantage of the time to relax and rejuvenate and bunker down to have nice old fashioned dinner-table chats with the lovely Canadians at our table.

Since I was a little girl I always dreamed of going to Africa. When we arrived I could not stop repeating in my head, “I can’t believe I’m in Africa!” I was so excited I literally ran through customs and in my rush didn’t even get my passport stamped! No one seemed to care, a small band of three men in red suits played drums and had a hawk sitting on a stick which people were paying to hold or pet. Further down several men in traditional garb were offering camel rides while past that two men blowing into exotic animal skins were making strange and peaceful music. Another man and his companion ran around passing out flowers on the other side of customs while yet more stood around offering cab rides or taxi tours of the city.

We arrived in Tunisia at 7am and quickly walked into town. There was not a lot to see in Tunis itself, but Carthage and the Old Town were several kilometers outside Tunis and transportation costs were extremely outrageous. The taxi drivers by the border were a bit on the untrustworthy side, and they charged in Euro (with a small print 20 Euro per hour sign taped discreetly to the back window). We decided not to take a cab (and buses were not available) to any of the big tourist sites, and opted instead to just enjoy the capital for what it was.

Tunis rests on the Mediterranean, not far from Italy and thus in a prime spot for warm, clean air. The weather was hot and dry by 9am as we strolled through the city’s colorful streets snapping pictures and waving at friendly locals. The number of cats in the city was beyond startling, and rivaled Bulgaria, which also had a preponderance of felines. We walked along the coast watching the early morning fishermen bring in their catch. Many were fishing with nets only, and their return for the morning looked meek. We passed several homes with BMWs parked in the front while along the shore we spotted several women brushing their teeth in the tide.
We walked deeper into town and, although I was feeling a bit ill with a mild case of the flu, decided to just park ourselves on a bench for a while and watch the street activity. A white paneled truck pulled up in front of our spot and began unloading. From our angle it was a ghastly and horrifying sight! The truck had roughly 12 dead cows hanging from hooks drilled into the ceiling, the floor was literally a pool of blood. There were more flies than I have seen in any one place in my life, and when the doors to the truck opened they flew out as if choreographed. The driver got out and grabbed a saw from under his seat, and when he pulled on a leg to begin sawing I felt my stomach do a few cartwheels. This could have been because of the flu, or because I was watching a leg be sawed in half. The passenger nudged a cow’s head (complete with fur, horns and eyeballs and all!) further into the pool of blood and helped the man hold the led as he sawed. While I was watching all this I didn’t notice that a small group of men unloading frozen French-fries out of another truck had stopped to laugh at my horrified expression. When I finally noticed them they were having a hilarious time laughing at me, which was all in good fun.

The smells in Tunis were enough to add to the flu symptoms and the cart wheeling from the massacre in the truck, so after not long at all I decided to call it a day and head back to the room. By 11am it was nearing 90 degrees, and although Mike was insisting it was hot out, I felt extremely cold, which was also a bad sign for my flu being on the rise instead of the fall. Nevertheless, we enjoyed a nice long walk back to the room while Mike hummed various oldies and I snapped pictures of the wonderful blue and white buildings dotting the coast.