The Cedarberg — a Wilderness of Sculpted Rock and Unspoilt Valleys October 8, 2008
Posted by dodo in : Africa, Cape Town, Map, Rail Pass, South Africa, Trails , 2commentsThe Cedarberg remained a little-known area for more than a century after the first European settlement was established at Cape Town — a mere 200 km away. Even today, in spite of the area’s growing popularity with lovers of the outdoors, there are many spots among the craggy mountains that are known only to forestry officers or those hardy people who have made their home here.
The dual role that the area has as home and resort is clear in the many names that fill the map of the Cedar- berg. (more…)
The EXhilaration Adventure, real Hiking Mountain Trail, Kebnekaise Mountain Station continue… July 18, 2008
Posted by dodo in : Air Tickets, Beach Resorts, Cars, Flight Schedule, Hostels, Hotels, Lodges, Motel, Restaurant, Sweden, Switzerland, Wellington , 2commentsIt was soon clear that the man had no idea what he was doing. He shouldn’t have been in the mountains. I asked him where his gear was. “Over there,” he said, pointing to the corner of the room. There was a tiny rucksack, a summer sleeping bag and a pair of Wellington boots. “Is that all?” I asked.
“Shit man, I didn‘t expect this. I came straight down the path from Abisko. It was beautiful the first two days. Which way did you come?”
“Over the mountains through Lapporten.”
“What was it like up there?”
“Cold and too much snow.”
“Where are you going?” (more…)
Climbing, Riding, Sightseeing Midnight on Mont Blanc continue… July 2, 2008
Posted by dodo in : Accommodation, Air Tickets, Cars, Europe, Germany, Greece, Hostels, London, Memorial, Mexico, Motel, New York, Travel Insurance, Travelling Bag, USA , 3commentsBernie pulled on the rope and cursed me for stopping; I plodded on. My feet hurt.
Four days later, the train heaved its way out of the valley towards the end of the Bionnassay Glacier. Through the glass I stared at the pine trees and the brilliant meadow flowers. The carriage filled with the perfume of tourists, up for the day, and the sweat of climbers, rucksacks balanced on their knees, all heading for the Blanc. When the track wound alongside a cliff the small girl sitting opposite looked out in disbelief as the trees gave way to nothing. She pulled her eyes away in fear and looked around the train — the view there was worse, rucksacks, hairy knees, ice-axes, unshaven climbers lost in contemplation of the weather.
We arrived at the top station and the train disgorged. Tourists wandered slowly across to the cafe or to the viewing platform from which they could look up at the great bleak sweep of the mountain opposite. Down the valley the world became more sane, as the stone desert below the glacier gave way to meadows and woodland. (more…)
