Projecting into the future…Not a worthwhile undertaking…A year ago, my first jittery video…

This is the second odd sparse tree that we’ve seen around the island. 
The fact that we’re leaving here in a month has been running through my head since I wrote it in yesterday’s post, over and over again.
When we see these blue bags on the banana trees we know this is a banana farm. They don’t use pesticides instead using these blue bags to keep the insects off the bananas.  The first time we saw the blue bags was the day we arrived in Belize, many moons ago.
The preparations for leaving, the packing, dropping off the rental car, the possible overweight luggage and the other annoyances of departure keep flooding my brain. 
The steep stairways with railings are placed throughout the island to allow pedestrians to get “up” to the next street.
I tell myself to stop thinking about this. Let me revel in our remaining time in Madeira with the same peace and ease we’ve both enjoyed during the past month and a half since we arrived.
It’s interesting to see plants and trees we’ve never seen in other countries.
As hard as I try, the thoughts continue to waft around my head. Projecting into the future is not always a good thing. Planning for the future is. That, we have covered.
The low lying clouds always create an attractive scene.

Whenever I feel a bit of angst, I immediately start thinking of what I can do to relieve the uncomfortable sensation. Today, I keep asking myself, “What is this really about?” As I write this now (“they” say writing is therapeutic) I realize it has something to do with the packing, more than anything else. My overweight luggage.  That’s it.

Lately, it’s been cloudy several days a week which we don’t mind when the scenery remains beautiful in any weather.

The solution is clear. This week, in an effort to avoid procrastinating, I hereby promise myself to go upstairs and start making a new pile to be donated to a charity in Madeira. I still have items that remain, unused, unnecessary. Why do I hesitate to let them go? 

Lovely.
When we picked up our box of “stuff” at customs in Funchal weeks ago, it contained replacement clothing items for me; two pairs of jeans (one to be cut into capri length, another to be cut into shorts), three long skirts (can be worn to dinner in the somewhat dressy dining rooms on the two upcoming cruises), three plain tee shirts and one pair of comfy white leather Keds to replace the worn-out pair I now wear every day.
The decorations in the streets were in preparation for an upcoming annual “beach party.”

Not only do I have to cut off the extra material on the jeans to lighten the load but, I also have to dispose of items to compensate for the added weight of the new items. Also, I must rid myself of the items that are responsible for the fact that my luggage was still overweight.

When we saw these decorations we thought it was for an upcoming wedding. With the language barrier, it wasn’t as simple as asking.

This morning, while dressing I looked in the closet of my “dressing room” (an extra bedroom in the house) seeing many items that need to go. The sooner I do this, the more chance I’ll have of ridding myself of these annoying thoughts.

Only one neighborhood was decorated.  We assumed it was a private celebration.
Generally, I’m not a procrastinator. If there’s a task to be done, I do it. I rationalize that these past weeks have been very busy booking vacation homes into the future which has basically taken most of the day when we aren’t writing here or out exploring. 
Brilliant color as still some flowers continue to bloom.

We’ve yet to find a vacation home in New Zealand and must continue the search. We’ll be there in a mere 18 months. The problem appears as a result of high prices and to our surprise, the number of property managers that don’t reply to inquiries, something we’ve never experienced in the past.

These two tasks on hand, both of which are daunting to me, must be accomplished soon to free my thoughts which will ultimately add to my ability to enjoy our remaining time on this lovely island.

An appealing entrance to a house in our neighborhood.

OK.  The world has seen my commitment, in writing, of the intent to accomplish these two tasks within a week.  With a plan in mind, I find myself on the road to “mental freedom” looking forward to reporting back that these tasks are accomplished, the sooner the better.

Now I have to hang today’s load of laundry outdoors, do some chopping and dicing for dinner, and hopefully, run upstairs and make the first pile of items for which I’m willing to say “goodbye.”After that, both of us will be back online searching for a home in New Zealand. 
Stay tuned…
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Photo from one year ago today, June 30, 2013:
This video was from the church bells ringing from the church bell tower across the way from us while we lived in Boveglio, Italy. (Having no video taking experience to speak of, it was jittery). It rang the longest on Saturday evenings at 6:00 pm in preparation for Saturday mass. For details from that day, please click here.

It’s been how long since we’ve done what???…Three days until departure…A museum visit a year ago,,

 The prices on the jewelry was very reasonable.

Last night during Madame Zahra’s delicious homemade dinner we talked and giggled over things we hadn’t done in a long time as we’ve continued to travel the world, living in other people’s houses. 

The earrings at MAD 20, were only US $2.45.

As we continued into our discussion, we laughed over the many items that we had taken for granted in our old lives, some of which include:

  • 16.5 months since we’ve used a dishwasher
  • 2.5 months since we’ve cooked a meal, grocery shopped for meals
  • 13 months since we’ve watched US TV programming
  • 8.5 months since we’ve done our own laundry
  • 2.5 months since we’ve made the bed
  • 24 months since we’ve been to a movie theatre
  • 19.5 months since we’ve seen most of our family, 17 months since we’ve seen others in our family
  • 11 months since we’ve been on a cruise
  • 17.5 months since either of us have been to a doctor
  • 17.5 months since either of us have been to a dentist (continued below)
Many of the items were very appealing, again priced at whatever a shopper may be willing to pay.
  • In the past 16.5 months, we’ve only had a car for 3.5 months
  • 11 months since we’ve had access to American type meals
  • 2.5 months since we’ve raided the refrigerator at night to look for a snack
  • 8.5 months since we’ve been able to drink and brush our teeth using tap water
  • 2.5 months since we’ve had an ongoing relationship with English speaking people. (We did have one short conversation six weeks ago at Le Jardin restaurant with a couple at the next table )
  • 2.5 months since Tom had a beer or cocktail at home (only twice in restaurants)
  • 2.5 months since eating: our favorite coleslaw, LC homemade pizza, our bread-less sandwich wraps, a veggies stuffed omelet, ketchup with Tom’s fries, lettuce, a slice of raw onion, a steak cooked properly, a pork chop, Italian sausage and most of all, bacon (No pork is available in Islamic countries)
  • 1.5 months since I’ve been able to wear a tee shirt and shorts (once the sand flies arrived as the temperature warmed, now in the 100F’s)
This shop had all types of souvenirs and trinkets.

What do we miss the most (obviously, besides family and friends)? Tom misses knowing that there’s a car in the driveway giving us the freedom to come and go as we please. I suppose I miss doing laundry the most. The feel, the smell and the sense of accomplishment of washing, drying and folding our clothes is a ritual that I’ve always found pleasing. For both of us, we miss eating our favorite foods.

Photo taken while walking when I noticed the vendor was not inside his tiny shop.

The thought that in only three day, we’ll arrive at a new home where will be able to begin some of the above, is exciting. Long ago, I would never have given a second thought to any of the above items. How freely we adapt, ultimately changing our expectations and subsequently, changing our needs.

A well fed cat at ease living in the souk.

The plans are set for the 2:00 pm pickup on Thursday here at Dar Aicha. The man with the little cart will arrive with Adil or Samir to wheel our luggage to Mohamed’s awaiting SUV. Tomorrow, the final loads of our laundry will be handled by Madame Zahra and Oumainma, neatly folded, ready to pack. Wednesday morning we’ll pack, sucking the air out of the Space Bags as always.

Without a doubt, we’ll be ready for the next leg of our many year’s long journey.
                                                  _____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, May 12, 2013:
Today is the last day we’re catching up from my posting error resulting in photos being posted from the incorrect dates one year ago. I apologize for the inconvenience. But, here is one more photo from May 12, 2013 and once again, the link for our readers who many have missed it over the past few days. Some of our most exciting year ago photos are coming up in the remaining days in May. Please stay tuned.

At the Cairo Museum, on May 12, 2013 we saw this statue of King Ramses II that was lying down inside a specially constructed building. Apparently, it was too heavy to stand.  For detail of that date, please click here.

Are we becoming seasoned travelers?…Soon to depart Morocco…A year ago…The cruse adventure of a lifetime began…

These beautiful photos of Moroccan women are offered for sale in the souk.

This morning the pigeons cooing, the rooster crowing, the birds chirping and the Islam Call-to-Prayer awoke me at 6:41 am. My first task of the day over these past few weeks has been to check for new sandfly bites.  Alas, another bite-less night! I bolted out of bed, ready to start the day, a smile on my face.

Tom was still sleeping, as I tiptoed to my “dressing room,” another bedroom I use to avoid awakening Tom which is around the corner, also overlooking the open courtyard. I was anxious to get ready for the day, get downstairs, make tea, check my email, glance at Facebook, and sit down to begin writing as I do each and every day.

Although many packaged candies and cookies have different names then the familiar brands, these products have similar packaging making it possible for tourists to choose what they like.

With only eight days until we leave Morocco, we’ve begun the mental process of winding down. As for the packing, it will occur closer to departure. A few days ago we made our final payment for the upcoming two and a half months in Madeira, Portugal. 

We wrote to Gina, the lovely owner of the house in Madeira, asking that bottled water, bar soap, a coffee pot, a WiFi password, and keys be left at the house for our midnight arrival. And also, we asked that a map with directions from the airport in Funchal to the house in Brava Ribeira be sent to us via email a few days before our arrival.

Dyed yarns hanging to dry in the souk.

No longer do we think about packing until a few days before we’re to depart. No longer do we feel anxious about the flight, security, long lines, immigration, layovers, and lost luggage. 

Finally, we’re beginning to feel like seasoned travelers. After all, we’ve been on the equivalent of 25 or so vacations in a row in the past over 18 months, some for one day, some for three months, and everything in between. 

Although this shop was closed last night, some products remain outdoors. It appears there is little risk of theft when the souk owners look out for one another and with armed guards in the Medina at all hours.

Of course, as we’ve said in the past, they’ve never felt like vacations. How could they? Vacations end.  Vacations have the anxiety of ending, midway through. Vacations are a break from daily life. This is our daily life.

A point that we’ve mentioned on occasion when talking to people we’ve met, is that we have no place to return to in order to repack, as many long term travelers do, to an apartment or condo somewhere in their home country or at the home of a family member with whom they live with for short periods. Nope, not us. This is it.

These colorful scarves are often low priced, often as little as US $2.47, MAD 20.

To repack, we merely go into the closet or cupboard where we currently live and take out the same stuff, albeit with a little wear and tear, placing it into the now worn luggage consisting of our combined two large bags, two small bags, and two computer bags. We’ve learned to travel lighter, physically, and mentally.

Becoming a seasoned traveler doesn’t make us exempt from learning. At every turn we learn, we adapt, we remain open to new ideas and experiences and we kick ourselves for those times when we “should have” known better. But, it’s all a part of the process.

More beautiful giant oranges. 

After all, in most people’s daily lives, they glean new knowledge and new experiences simply from living. The only difference for us, is the frequent change in our surroundings, offering new opportunities to stimulate our brains, our senses, all the while opening our hearts to new people, new ways of life, new cultures, and new scenery. 

Many of you have or have had these same opportunities while being rooted in the homes and towns to which you’ve become familiar. The difference for us is the familiarity part. We don’t have a familiarity to any great extent. Although, in certain locals, we’ve felt as if “we’re home” when returning from outings. I imagine that those of you who have closely followed us, know exactly where those places were.

I must admit that we look forward to that familiarity, even for short periods. It adds so much to the experience. Does that mean that we’re longing to be settled? Not at all. We love this vagabond lifestyle even though at times it’s not ideal. But, isn’t that life anyway?

Of course, we’d love to be able to take better photos in the souk, but the owners resist in most cases, resulting in taking photos without the ability to stop and focus.

Today, we’re staying in. Going out into the crowds and dining out has worn thin. We can easily depend on entertaining ourselves staying in while reading, writing, listening to podcasts, and chatting with each other.

We continue on, for now, and over the next several days, living in the moment, filled with hope and a tinge of anticipation for that which is yet to come.
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Photo from one year ago today, May 7, 2013:

This was a portion of the glass floor in the casino on Royal Caribbean’s Mariner of the Sea which we’d boarded the prior afternoon. This cruise was the most exciting, adventurous, and memorable cruise of the eight cruises on which we sailed in 2013. Check back here each day for more photos from that cruise and the exciting stories of our experiences. For details of the post on that date, please click here.

Time is ticking away…19 days and counting until departure…

Orange trees are often seen growing in the center courtyards of restaurants including where we dined last night, Arabe.

As we rapidly approach, our departure time, now only 19 days away, we marvel at how quickly the time begins to fly as usual, regardless of our level of enjoyment and activity.

Reducing our load over the past year, packing is no longer a dreaded task, requiring only three hours or less in order to place everything into the Space Bags from which we’ll suck the air using our little handheld vacuum. 

Once we’re down to one week, I’ll begin sorting and folding, with all of our clothing inside cupboards as opposed to drawers. In a cupboard, the clothing seems to get messy.

A quiet area in a souk while on our way to dinner. Although there were no crowds in this area last night, we had to be careful where we walk with many grates, manhole covers, and tripping hazards.

Fortunately, TAP (Portugal) doesn’t have strict baggage requirements, making this flight and the next when we leave on August 1st to fly to Paris, less of a concern than ever in the past. 

Yesterday, I placed a shipping order with our mailing service located in our home state of Nevada, Maillinkplus.com, to ship all the supplies we’ve ordered for a shipment to be sent to Madeira. When we need items, we take advantage of free shipping when available by various websites having it all shipped to the mailing service. 

Many US websites don’t ship outside the US. Nor, do we want packages arriving piecemeal when the risk of losing a few may be high when shipping oversees. As a result, with our large mailbox at the mailing service each year, we can accumulate all of our orders waiting for the upcoming shipment to wherever we may be at the time. The staff at Maillinkplus.com removes all the boxes and shipping materials, placing the individual items in one large box to be shipped to us.

The view from our table at Arabe Restaurant, where we dine each week. The waiters have come to know us always offering excellent service. 

Once they inform us of the cost, we place the amount we owe into our account with Maillinkplus.com which they use to pay the shipping costs. They research the best pricing for us. In this particular case, using UPS Express is less expensive than DHL or FedEx and safer and more reliable than USPS.

Madeira is an island 604 miles from the coast of Portugal. As is the case with any island, the cost of shipping is higher than one might expect. For us, it’s a cost we’ve budgeted. When our order arrives, we’ll post photos of its contents.

Gina, the lovely property owner of the house in Ribeira Brava lives across the street from the house we’re renting. The package will be sent to her house to hold until our arrival.

Another view from our table.  Deep colors are commonly seen on walls
in various establishments.

Need I say that we’re excited to arrive in Madeira? The upcoming beautiful contemporary house overlooking the ocean will be a dramatic change from the crowded, busy lifestyle of living in a souk for the past two and a half months. 

Although enriched by the experience of the cultural differences in Morocco, we anticipate the slower pace of Madeira with enthusiasm. With a rental car for the entire period, we’ll have the freedom to explore its many treasures on our own time. With summer approaching, Madeira has much to offer as well as a quiet respite we’ll surely relish in our new surroundings.

Last night, we headed out for dinner, once again making our way through the busy souks. By late Friday afternoons, the weekend tourists fill the souks anxious to shop, negotiate, and buy what they may perceive as the “deals of the century.” 

My dinner, referred to a Kefta, includes meatballs, tomato sauce, and eggs dropped into the hot mixture, all befitting my way of eating.  I always order a side of grilled vegetables.

No offense is intended regarding this common tourist activity. At one point in my life, I too, loved the shopping in foreign lands, falling prey to the purported “bargains.” The shop owners are on alert harking their wares to those shoppers whose eyes happen to steal a peek at their products, all of which are neatly displayed ad ready for sale minus any marked prices. 

Last night, after dinner we stopped in a shop to see if we could find a leather computer backpack.  With this Tom could carry both of our laptops leaving his hands free. In the past, we were opposed to backpacks due to the risk of someone putting something illegal into them or taking something out. But, as time marched on, we’ve come to realize that a lock would be an ideal solution if, in fact, we found the correct style.

Luckily, the shop owner spoke some English seeming to understand what we were looking for. When he didn’t have what we wanted, he asked us to wait while he left the shop, returning five minutes later with a leather laptop bag to which he’d attached backpack straps. 

Tom’s pasta dinner, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese includes a side of bread with no vegetables. He doesn’t care for vegetables except for green beans and carrots which he’ll eat when Madame Zahra cooks.

As a courtesy, Tom tried it on although I could tell that no way would this setup work as a backpack. The shop owner explained that he’d work on it overnight making it a suitable backpack with the proper positioning of the straps, even adding padding.

Out of curiosity, I asked him the price of the backpack considering the adjustments he’d make overnight.  He quickly quoted 700 dirhams, US $86.18. Without giving it a thought, not interested in the bag, Tom said, “Too much,” as he grabbed my hand and walked away.

A photo of the colorful flip flops and shoes taken while on the move. Most vendors won’t allow photos of their wares.

Immediately, the shop owner yelled after us, “100 dirhams (US $12.31), monsieur!” Wow! That’s quite a price reduction! In any case, the bag wouldn’t work for us and we left. 

In a way, I felt sorry for him. For him to willingly drop the price to what would surely give him little to no profit was evidence of a desperate need to make a sale. With many of the shops frequently empty with numerous “lookie loo’s” drifting by, we can see how difficult it would be for a vendor to make a living.

Most of the vendors spent 12 hour days sitting on little stools outside their shops hoping to make a sale. The vendors are usually men. Women are rarely seen selling in the shops although they may be found in the Big Square offering baked goods or non-permanent tattoos while they sit on little stools under umbrellas. 

Tomorrow, we’ll be discussing our observations on the obvious distinct roles of men and women in Morocco, a real eye-opener for us.
                                                ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 26, 2013:

Due to the storm, taking photos was not a priority on this particular date. As an alternative, here is a photo taken the prior day. For detail of the post on April 26, 2013, please click here.

Every night, while we were at dinner, the cabin steward would place an animal made of towels on the bed. This was a monkey. Also, there would be chocolates on our pillows and an agenda for the next day’s activities. 

Chilled to the bone…49F (9C this morning)… What do we wear?…Only women will get this!…New photos!

This cat found comfort sitting atop the seat of a parked motorbike.

One of the aspects of traveling the routes we’ve chosen has been to avoid cold weather. When we researched temperatures this time of year in Morocco, we’d never expected it to be as cold as it’s been.

Luckily, the sun was out again as it filtered through the slats in the ceiling of the souk.

Keeping in mind that we’re almost living outdoors with the open courtyard, the largest room in the riad around which all other rooms are situated, it’s not unlike living in Kenya in the outdoor living room instead, with the unbearable heat, humidity, and mosquitoes.

This shop’s specialty was hand-carved wood chess boards and pieces.

Definitely, I’d rather be chilled than in scorching heat and humidity. Its a lot easier to bundle up than take off clothing to cool down which hardly seems to help at all.

Clothing shops are popular in the souks as tourists strive to bring Moroccan styles back home. From what we’ve seen, the locals buy their garments from shops in the side streets away from the tourist areas at more affordable prices.

The trouble is, we have a few warm items with us having not planned for such chilly weather. Tom has one lightweight zippered sweatshirt and I have two long sleeves warm BugsAway shirts, one white, one pale green, which I seem to switch off every other day. The 70 washings guaranteed to maintain the bug deterrent features of these two shirts will be washed away before I ever get to go on another safari. 

Bangles and the little pots are commonly sold items.

The only other long-sleeve items we have are our two long-sleeve BugsAway cotton safari shirts which we each often wear when we go out under our jackets of which we each have two, one parka and one slightly heavier weight.

One could get confused trying to decide on pairs of sandals with endless affordable offerings from around the souk. 

In Kenya, after donating more of our clothing I left myself with only a few pairs of jeans shorts to wear during the three months in South Africa. After wearing them every day they began to wear out and I noticed the fabric thinning, wearing through at certain points. One was awfully low slung and the other not as much.

Colorful small tables used in home décor.

As a typical woman in my old life, I’d have gone shopping, trying on 15 pairs of shorts, to end up purchases a few for the new season. Since we’ve been gone 17 months without shopping, I currently have a dilemma.  Styles have changed, sizing may have changed and its no longer as simple as going online and purchasing a few pairs of shorts to be sent when they may not fit. 

Pillows in Morocco are filled with very heavy durable material making them rather heavy. With the numerous pillows where we sit in the salon, we’ve found it difficult to move around, they are so heavy.

You may think…go shopping! Ha! I dare anyone to find a pair of jean shorts in Morocco, respectably long enough to go out in public at age 66, that fit properly when most women’s pants are typically low slung anomalies. Now, I can live with a bit of a low slung pair of pants but not those with a zipper only as long as my thumb!

Leather handbags, carryon bags, and other travel bags are popular in the souks.

Knowing we’ll be receiving a box of supplies while we’re in Madeira for which we’ll be adding the new camera when it comes out on April 20th, now is the time for me to figure out a solution to include in the box.

Several shops comparable to a boutique type store are found in the various courtyards between the souks, as in the case of this store where we spotted this bronze horse.

Why only jeans shorts? They are durable, can be worn several times without looking ratty, don’t wrinkle and above all, are comfortable. I donated all the khaki shorts I’d originally included in our luggage after wearing them only a few times. For me, jeans are my first choice for long pants, capris, and shorts. Style was long ago sacrificed for practicality and comfort.

Bead and jewelry making supplies.

Looking online for a few hours, I became frustrated, feeling that I’d never get a pair of shorts that would be guaranteed to fit. Of course, I put my little brain to work on a solution. Boom! As often happens during the night, I had an idea.

Almost every day, except for washing day, I’ve been wearing a pair of Old Navy jeans that I love. I’m not an easy fit; tall, relatively lean and with overly long legs, a 35″, .89m inseam. Try to find that in a country where the average woman’s height is 5’2″, 1.57 m! Old Navy has always had jeans that work for both my size and height. 

Cute puzzle made n the shape of camels.

Yesterday, after unzipping my pants, Tom read off the labels on the inside of my jeans including the style name, style number, and the size. Immediately going online to Old Navy, I was excited to find they still carry the exact same style and size. On sale for US $49, MAD 399, each they were down to US $34.50, MAD 281 each. I ordered two pairs in varying shades.

When they arrive in a few months, I’ll cut one pair off for shorts and the other pair for capris, rolling up the ends into narrow cuffs. Having done this on many occasions with old jeans, I have no qualms that I can easily do this again using one of the few pairs of sharp scissors we have on hand.
The dark, busy souk is a challenge to navigate when crowded with locals, tourists, bicycles, donkeys with carts, hand-pulled carts, and motorbikes.

Problem solved. I placed the order for the two pairs of jeans and a few more dressy looking tee-shirts suitable for dining out. My total order was US $101, MAD 823, with free shipping to our mailing service in Nevada, USA.  Of all things, an hour later I received a coupon for US $40, MAD 326, as a reward for my purchase if I was willing to spend another US $100, MAD 815, between now and May 5th. Hopefully, I can convince Tom to use this credit for himself. 

Of course, anything new we receive requires disposing of an equal weight of things we already have to keep the weight of our luggage acceptable to airline standards. Fortunately, I have already planned what I’ll toss before we’re ready to leave Madeira on July 31st.

This is what I should be admiring as opposed to cookies I can’t eat.

In the interim, I will continue to wear the heck out of the clothing of which I plan to dispose of. Tom also wears the same tee shirts and button-up shirts over and over, as you’ve seen in our photos with a plan to wear them out as well. Yes, I get sick of looking at his same tee shirts, although clean, day after day, as he most certainly does mine.

Who’d ever thought we’d be planning and contemplating the long-term wear-ability of a pair of shorts or a tee-shirt? In our old lives, if a tee shirt looked worn, it became a rag or was plopped into the trash with nary a thought. Now, I can spend 10 minutes looking at a tee-shirt with the intent of determining its fate…keep or save…keep or save.  Ha!

We giggled when we saw this traditional phone booth.

In a funny way, I enjoy this triviality of our lives. Fashion-forward in my old life. Fashion free in my new life. I think I like it better this way.

Today, we’ll be going outside the Medina with more photos to share tomorrow. I’d hoped to take a video of the birds flying inside the house early this morning. Alas, hardly any birds flew inside this morning although I was waiting with camera in hand. Perhaps, another day.
                                               ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, March 31, 2013:

A year ago today, we were living in Belize and it was Easter day.  Having few photos from our old lives when neither of us enjoyed taking photos, I’d posted a few older dessert photos on that date, including this butterscotch pie I’d made for Tom using 12 egg whites for the meringue and a homemade rolled crust. I have posted this photo in the past and apologize for the repeat if you’ve seen this before. This link will take you to that date and other desserts from our old lives, including Tom’s custom-made retirement party cake.  Please click here for the link.

Good morning, Marrakesh! With open arms, you welcome us into your enchanting world…

Here’s the guy with the wheeling cart hauling our luggage through the Medina with Adile at his right. When checking our bags in Johannesburg, it was required to have all of our luggage was wrapped in plastic for security reasons.

Entering the Medina with our luggage, where motorized vehicles are not allowed.

Where do we begin?  We won’t bore you with too many details of the misinformation we were given by the gate agent in Johannesburg that we’d have to collect our luggage in Casablanca, take it through customs, and recheck it for the final flight to Marrakesh. 
 The views from the plane became more and more interesting the closer we flew to the city of Marrakesh, Morocco.

The city of Marrakesh presented an awesome sight as we approached the airport.

When the four bags didn’t appear in Casablanca, we imagined they were lost. Trying to stay as calm as possible, which we did rather well during the entire 29 hours of travel time, we tried to get answers. We couldn’t find anyone who spoke English well enough to explain our dilemma. 
 Most of the eight ascents and descents in the 29 hours, required Tom breaking down six pieces of hand luggage including the cart when we had to use to steep outdoor steps when the planes are parked on the tarmac. Rarely, are the tubes used in many countries. On two occasions we had to board a bus in order to get to the tarmac to access the steep steps. Cumbersome.
Honesty, with our worldly possessions well insured, we were more worried about the time and inconvenience it would cost us than the loss of our stuff. We had all the important electronics, documents, and prescriptions in our carry on. Finally, we found am English-speaking agent at the counter for our final flight to Marrakesh that said, “No worry. Your bags have gone on to Marrakesh.”

The man with the car and Adile (pronounced “Agile”) as they began to enter the Medina.

After an hour of worry, we were able to make it to the final gate and breathe a sigh of relief. Oh well, if that was the only thing that happened in 29 hours, we were happy. Yes, there were other incidents of misinformation but, we’ve learned that it goes with the territory.

 As Samir explained when we asked about the customs of Morocco, we are not to take photos of the faces of locals without their permission.  his is a custom we’ve experienced in other Muslim countries which we will honor and respect. Going forward, we’ll make a point of capturing the many sites, with more time to stage the photos.
Tom, a former hothead, amazes me in his commitment to avoid ever being viewed as the “ugly American.” In doing so, he stays calm and unruffled in the worst of situations. I’m the eternal optimist avoiding ruffled feathers at all costs.  Practicing calmness actually has made us calm. It’s funny how that works.
 Adile, as he opened the front door of our new home.
Upon picking up our luggage at the Marrakesh airport using the “free” luggage trolley (we have yet to pay for a cart at any airport outside the US), we made our way to the entrance of the airport to look for Samir, our houseman for our new home, Dar Aicha. (Residences have names in Africa as you may have noticed from our past posts). 
 Upon entering the door to Dar Aicha, our private home for the next two and a half months, we were taken aback by its majestic charm. This center courtyard is surrounding by the many rooms of the house and is open to the sky. 
In no less than 30 seconds, there stood a tall, handsome young man with our names on a white sign. Samir immediately took charge, loading a new SUV with all of our belongings. The driver, Hamouda (spelling?), will be at our service as needed, having worked for Dar Aicha for many years. 

 With three floors of living space at our disposal, we have to choose where to lounge as we write here today. 
Once we arrived at the Medina, another 20 something male house employee, Adile, guarded the cart as it was traversed by the man in the above photo, for the 15 minutes it took to work our way through the crowded Medina, through the souk, to the house situated amid the awe-inspiring activity of the old city. 
 This morning I caught Tom off guard as he exited the bedroom to join me to begin our day. Many more house photos will be posted in the near future as we settle in.
As we made this walk, the exhaustion flew away while the adrenalin was pumping with our excitement. We couldn’t get enough as our eyes were flying from left to right, our nostrils flaring with the mouth-watering aromas, and my fingers itching to touch the gorgeous silks and fabrics.
 In Dar Aicha, birds are free to come and go into the house at their leisure.
Unfortunately, we were on a mission to keep up with the guy with the cart and didn’t want to detain the three of them with our tourist-like gawking. We’ll soon go out on our own, anytime we want. The photos shown here today, taken of the Medina and the souk were done in haste while moving quickly through the crowded narrow vehicle-free streets. I promise many more will follow.
 Last evening, candles were lit to add to the already inviting ambiance.
Once we entered Dar Aicha, considered a small palace on three levels with a staff of four overseeing to all of our needs, we were in awe. Oh, good grief! Our needs are few: meals, bottled water, clean towels and bedding, clean house, and clean laundry. 
 This sideboard displayed a series of lit candles in the dining room, specifically for our enjoyment.
There are multiple buzzers for us to ring, on each level if we want something. We can’t imagine ever pressing it. But, one must consider the customs and the fact that service help is standard in much of Africa providing jobs for many of its citizens, from what we’ve experienced in the three countries in which we’ve lived thus far; Kenya, South Africa, and now Morocco. 
With the original intent of dining out frequently now down to perhaps once a week, we’ll be more than happy to dine in, content that Madame Zahra knows how to cook for me. Tom, bless his heart, is totally on board with dining in, after last night’s fabulous dinner. Tonight, fish is on the menu which Tom rarely eats but after last night’s dinner he’s prepared to try anything.
We’ve decided we’d like dinner at 6:30 pm as opposed to 7:00 pm for a few reasons; one, we don’t eat much during the day and two, Madame Zahra will be able to leave earlier.
The vegetable first course, served to us by Madame Zahra last night. More food than we could eat, we stuffed ourselves, delighted when everything presented except the bread in the upper left corner, was befitting my restrictive diet.  
 
With the language barrier and the crowds, it will be difficult to inquire about my way of eating from food vendors on the streets. I’m here in yet another country having the time of my life rather than living in a wheelchair constantly in excruciating pain. Do I complain or even think about what I’m missing in foods? Never! I’m grateful for every moment of my life. 
Madame Zahra, Dar Aicha’s resident cook for many years, arrives before 9:00 am each morning and stays until after she serves dinner and cleans up. This morning only minutes after arriving, she delivered a tray with fresh grounds-free French pressed hot coffee to the salon (the living room) where most likely we’ll spend most of our time when not out and about or sleeping.
Last night, with a little trepidation, we were seated at the table in the dining room at precisely 7:00 pm, Madame Zahra’s usual serving time. Worried that Tom wouldn’t like the spicy foods and that food befitting my way of eating would be difficult to prepare, within minutes our worries wafted away when plate after plate of delicious foods was presented at our table; the varied vegetable dishes first and later, the grilled seasoned chicken which she cooked over an open fire on the rooftop.
Last night’s dinner clearly illustrated that living in Dar Aicha with Madame Zahra in the kitchen will only add to the joy of our experiences in Marrakesh. When we read the many five star reviews on Dar Aicha, we observed how other guests also preferred to dine in, after trying her delicious meals.
This grilled chicken was perfectly cooked and seasoned to perfection.
After a great night’s sleep in the 50F, 10C, cool to us weather, bundled under a fluffy down comforter and blankets, it was hard to stay in bed long.  With a two hour time difference from South Africa, I was up and about at 5:00 am and Tom shortly after, both of us anxious to begin the day.  

By 6:00 am this morning, I finished unpacking and Tom, a borderline procrastinator, will be done by the end of the day.  Now, at 10:30 am, our laundry is being washed, our bathrooms are cleaned with the smell of pine, and our bed is neatly remade. (I always keep my clothing and toiletries in another bedroom to avoid waking Tom when invariably I arise earlier). 

And yes, once again we had to decide as to which room we’d sleep in and which one I’d use for my things. Once again, it took us a half-hour to make a decision, especially considering yesterday’s tired state of being when our brains weren’t fully operational in our tired state.
This morning, on the rooftop, our first glimpse daybreak.
What’s my excuse for asking Tom where certain rooms are in this spacious home, invariably starting out in the wrong directions? I never had a sense of direction anyway. Why would that change now?
Soon, we’ll get out to explore this culture-rich diverse city, much of which begins at our doorstep. Also, we need to locate an ATM and a pharmacy since all of the shampoo and conditioner were squeezed out of the bottles in my suitcase when it was tightly plastic-wrapped at the Johannesburg airport.
There is no way that living in Marrakesh will ever result in a boring day, unsure of what to do with ourselves. Then again, we’ve haven’t had a dull day in the 16 months since leaving Minnesota on Halloween, 2012. Actually, to be more specific, we haven’t had a dull day in almost 23 years.

Note: The WiFi in Marrakesh is inconsistent and slow at times. On occasion, as shown today, we’ll have formatting issues over which we have no control. We apologize for the inconvenience and kindly ask you bear with us. Thank you!

Is running out of new photos an issue?…What do we do in the event this occurs?…A trip to the local dump proved to be interesting…

At the Marloth Park dump, we found these Marabou Storks everywhere.  If photo ops don’t come to us, we’ll go to them.

Writing every day is challenging at times, especially when we’re kicking back and relaxing. Would one have photos and stories to share in their everyday lives? Hardly.

In our old lives, weeks could go by without a single thought of taking a photo. Also, we’d never learned to take photos. Life was too busy to take on another hobby. As a result, we only used a camera on special occasions, neither of us showing a propensity toward any skill. 

For me, no skill? No interest. That’s how perfectionist-types operate. That’s why I don’t play golf. For that matter, Tom, good at most sports, hasn’t played much golf either, getting easily frustrated when he doesn’t play well enough by his own standards.

From afar, these birds look pretty. Up close, not so cute in the face. These birds are carnivorous eating other birds, carrion scraps, small rodents and have a propensity for human garbage and can digest rotten animal matter.

Now, back to posting daily and it’s challenging…

Yesterday morning, after posting, today’s post was fast approaching as being one of those days that writing this blog left me stymied. I had no new photos to post. I could run around the yard to look for small things or interesting vegetation or even, if necessary, stand in the road waiting for a photo-worthy event.

The height of a Marabou Stork is approximately 152 cm, 60 inches; weight is 9 kg, 20 pounds; the wingspan is 3.7 m, 12 feet. They have the largest wingspan of any bird. The Marloth Park dump is thoroughly cleaned out every few weeks. It is where many of the locals bring their garbage with only a small percentage having pickup service. We haven’t observed any recycling in Kenya or South Africa.

To prepare for our upcoming dinner party on Monday, Okee Dokee picked me up at 11:00 am Saturday morning to go to Komatipoort for groceries. Having created a menu and a grocery list I was ready to tackle the weekend crowds at the strip mall. 

While waiting in line at the grocery store, I mentioned to Okee Dokee that in the past 16 months since leaving Minnesota I’d yet to purchase any underwear. Add the fact that we’d unloaded so many clothing items along the way, my inventory was sparse and worn to the point of ridiculousness. I’d never gone so long without purchasing undergarments or clothing for that matter. 

The Marabou Stork will eat anything it can swallow, including shoes, clothing, and tin cans. They can become aggressive if fed by humans when they are refused food. Although not vultures, their behavior exceeds the traits of vultures whose diet consists of animal remains.

Having whipped through the grocery store quickly, she led me to a local clothing shop. I was pleasantly surprised when we entered the store. Although a small shop, there was clothing for women, men, and children of all ages. We promptly headed to the women’s underwear department where, upon approaching, I squealed with delight. They had rather modern items and styles, all reasonably priced and of decent quality. I’d have to toss the old stuff, avoiding increasing our luggage weight.

Ten minutes later, a bra and eight pairs of panties were being rung up for a grand total of US $23.16, ZAR $259. What? In the US, I would easily have spent US $75, ZAR $838.67 for this type of quality. What’s wrong with this picture?

After making the purchase we headed to the ATM area with two machines, neither of which was working, prompting us to head back to the ATM at the Marloth Park Bush Center which once again worked with ease. 

This injured zebra was near the road when we drove by. It wasn’t enclosed in a fenced area. This fence happened to be on the edge of a property. This injury could easily have been a result of a kick from another zebra. The distended belly of a zebra is common. Their intestinal tract is such that they become bloated with gas from eating massive amounts of vegetation each day. They are prolific at passing gas, as we’ve heard fro time to time. Hopefully, this injury heals on its own.

Afterward, we drove down one of the two only paved roads in the park. Okee Dokee, aware of my photo dilemma quickly made a sharp left turn into the local dump. (As yet, we hadn’t seen any wildlife). Wouldn’t you know, the dump was not only littered with garbage (which is entirely removed every few weeks), but was also littered with what I’d originally thought were beautiful Marabou Storks. 

Thus, the photos we’re showing today are the storks we found at the dump. Leave it to Okee Dokee! As we slowly meandered down the road toward African Reunion House I chuckled. I don’t recall ever taking a camera to the grocery store in my old life.

This morning at 6:30 am while contemplating getting up I heard animal sounds outside. Quietly and slowly I exited to the bedroom to look out the full wall of glass to the garden. Scattered among the bush were no less than 50 impalas, 25 Helmeted Guinea-Fowls with chicks, and one large lone male warthog.

Male impalas along the side of the main road in Marloth Park on our return drive from grocery shopping.

Quickly I awoke Tom, and together as quietly as possible, we opened the door to the veranda, camera in hand.  Alas, the impalas scattered, but the warthog and the “guinea hens,” as Tom calls them, stayed behind. 

Mr.Warthog was very shy, as we’ve noticed in the lone males. He meandered about the garden for a half-hour finally checking out the pellets, deciding to partake. The guinea hens and chicks had a blast picking away at the large pellets, easily knocking them into smaller pieces. Even they are fun to watch.

The baby warthogs are getting huge. When the mom is ready to mate again, she’ll leave the babies to fen for themselves as their own maturing life cycle begins. This particular mom has been a favorite of mine.  She has no fear of me, makes eye contact that is endearing, and is such a good mom, holding back while the babies eat the pellets first. I always make a point of tossing several in front of her and only then does she eat them. Warthogs eat on their front knees which have tough pads from the day they’re born.

As for the rest of today, this morning after posting, we’re heading to the little house to pack all of our stuff to bring it here for packing. Originally, we’d planned to do it on Tuesday, the morning after the dinner party. But, we decided to get it done and off of our minds. 

We’ll put everything in the main floor guest room, shutting the door until Tuesday when we’re ready to begin the dreadful task of sorting and packing everything we own into two large suitcases, two overnight bags, one duffel bag, and two computer bags. Everything we own. More dwindling down. Letting go of more stuff due to increased weight restrictions over prior flights.

Flight info from South Africa to Marrakesh, Morocco…29 hours of travel time if no delays…Yikes! We’re moving to a new house for the weekend…details tomorrow…

02/28/2014 – Departure   2 stops
Total travel time: 19 h 50 m
custom air icon
Johannesburg
Cairo
8 h 0 m 
JNB  9:45pm
Terminal B
CAI  5:45am
+1 day  
Terminal 3
 
Egyptair 840
Economy/Coach (Q)
| Seat 28K, 28H |
Confirm or change seats with the airline*
Layover: 3 h 25 m
custom air icon
Cairo
Casablanca
6 h 0 m 
CAI  9:10am
Terminal 3
CMN  1:10pm
Terminal 2
 
Egyptair 847
Economy/Coach (Q)
| Seat 24K, 24J |
Confirm or change seats with the airline*
Layover: 1 h 45 m
custom air icon
Casablanca
Marrakech
0 h 40 m 
CMN  2:55pm
Terminal 1
RAK  3:35pm
Terminal 1
(Arrives on
03/01/2014)
 
Royal Air
Maroc 803
Economy/Coach (U)
| Confirm seats with the airline *
Price Summary
Traveler
1: Adult
 
$711.70
Flight
 
$468.00
Taxes & Fees
 
$243.70
Traveler
2: Adult
 
$711.70
Flight
 
$468.00
Taxes & Fees
 
$243.70
Expedia Booking
Fee
 
$14.00
Total: US $1,437.40
ZAR $15,305 

In order to begin the above flight for our trip to Marrakesh, Morocco on February 28th, we must also fly from Kruger/Nelspruit Airport to Johannesburg Tambo Airport in South Africa at another cost of ZAR $2036, US $191.21 which we booked yesterday. We’d booked the longer leg of the journey in early December.

Our combined cost for all four flights is ZAR $17,341, US $1,628.60.

With the airport in Nelspruit quite a distance, we plan to have Okee Dokee pick us up at 2:30 pm (14:30). With road construction and Friday afternoon traffic, an early start is necessary.  Plus, there’s a two hour time change from South Africa to Morocco. Our arrival will feel as if it is 5:35 pm (17:35) to us when we finally arrive.

Including picking up our baggage in Marrakesh, going through immigration and customs, and the drive to our rental home, we’re estimating an additional two hours. In total, we’ll be traveling for 29 hours. That is if there are no delays and/or missed flights due to delays. There have been substantial delays on most of our flights thus far. We shall see how it goes.

You may ask, “Why are we going to Cairo, Egypt in order to get to Morocco?”

As you can see, Morocco borders Algeria in the upper left, and yet Egypt is located in the upper right of Africa.

In a perfect world, we’d fly from South Africa at the southern tip of the map, directly to Morocco. Nope. Not possible, unless one charters a private plane, an option definitely out of our budget.

When we began the planning of spending almost a year in Africa, we knew getting to Morocco was challenging.  In every case in our planning, we’ve checked flights in advance of committing to the rental of a property.

The key to making this lengthy travel time bearable will be our ability to sleep for a few hours on the flight during the night, on the eight-hour leg from Johannesburg to Cairo.

Neither of us is good at sleeping sitting up. Neither of us naps during the day, naps in the car, or doze while watching a show or movie. When we’re tired, we go to bed. We can only hope that the flight isn’t crowded (we expect it will be) and we can find a way to sleep. If we don’t, we’ll have a tough next day. But, in the realm of things, a day after we arrive, we’ll be rested and it will all be behind us.

Two and a half months later, when we leave Morocco for Madeira, we’ll have a much shorter flight, under three hours. Madeira is located off the coast of Portugal which is shown on the above map as above and, to the left of Morocco.

On the flights to Morocco, we’ll have to collect our baggage up to four times, going through customs twice. This is a daunting task even with our greatly reduced load. With everything we own in two large suitcases, two medium bags, two laptop bags, and one duffel bag, this isn’t easy. 

Tom does most of the hard work due to my bad shoulder, especially when none of the airports have the “tubes” in which to gain access both on and off the planes. As a result, he ends up hauling a huge amount of the carry on load up the long and steep flights of steps from the tarmac to the plane. He dreads this part. I dread this part for him.

There it is, folks. This nomadic life we live is not always easy. However, once we get through the hard parts, we relax, making a concerted effort not to worry or anticipate problems. Instead, we do everything we possibly can do, over which we have do have control.

The rest, over which we have no control? We have to leave it to chance, hoping and praying for a safe transition, choosing not to worry while we revel in our remaining 29 days in Marloth Park.

The inconveniences? Well, they go with the territory.

Note: Check back tomorrow for photos and stories of the new digs we’re moving into for the weekend, a luxury vacation home! Can’t wait!

Here’s the shocker, folks!!!…Physically, emotionally, financially….

The four cardboard boxes we’d packed, were ready to get shipped at the local post office.

OK. The power is out and will continue to be out for the entire day today as it was last night beginning at 9:30 pm. The generator is a hit and miss, going off and on intermittently. It’s not on now. My computer indicated that I have 45 minutes of battery left so I must write quickly to get this posted.

I hope that our “shocker” didn’t appear as if it was a life-threatening situation. But, for us, it truly is a life-changing situation; physically, emotionally, and financially.

Here it is:  

I had looked far and wide for this pair of 3″ heels a few years ago, loving the neutral color.
This is my last pair of high heels.  Bye, bye, shoes.

This decision didn’t come easily. We’d already packed the four cardboard boxes with clothing, shoes, accessories with the intent of shipping them to our house in South Africa after I’d verified that we could receive packages and confirmed the address. 

Our intent was to have Alfred take us to the Ukunda post office, not to DHL, where we recently had spent KES $38,953, US $458 to have one box shipped from our mailing service in Nevada to the DHL store in Diani Beach, Kenya that weighed only 13 pounds (5.9 kg)! 

Instead, our plan this time was to box everything up that we wanted to ship and use the Ukunda post office, a 45 minute round trip drive from here. It was already set up with Alfred to take us on Friday morning at 10:00 am. 

Unaware of the potential mailing costs at the post office, we knew that we’d have to get a ton of shillings from the ATM with the post office only accepting cash. That in itself presented a dilemma.  f we got too much cash, how would we get it converted to Rand (ZAR), the money used in South Africa, without incurring exchange fees? 

Surprisingly, these long casual cotton dresses are heavy, especially when I purchased them to accommodate my height, 4″ taller than the average woman.  Look at those vitamins! Many of them are also already gone, tossed in the past week. These few bottles were unopened. We only kept those that are an absolute necessity, such as Probiotics for intestinal health, B6 vitamins to prevent kidney stones (has been working for Tom after three surgeries back in the US), and a few for me.

If we discovered that we were short of cash at the post office and didn’t have enough shillings on-hand, we’d have to find another bank or drive back to the original ATM. Talk about stress-inducing! Hot weather, no AC in the taxi, sweat pouring down our necks!  (There are five minutes left on my battery!)

Of course, we weighed the boxes and looked online fruitlessly attempting to find out the postal rates from Kenya to anywhere (to get an idea), let alone to South Africa. No such luck. Nor was there a phone number to call for information. Nor was there a website for the Ukunda post office. Nada. (The generator just came on)! Yippee!

This was going nowhere. Angst was setting in. Then, by chance, I stumbled upon restrictions for sending packages to South Africa. It was the “no shoes” restriction that put me over the edge. To verify this I called the local DHL store (which incidentally is inside a pharmacy, owned by the pharmacist) to discover if this was true. 

The store manager confirmed that only one (1) shoe may be sent in any package to South Africa. One shoe? When would one shoe ever be appropriate? I couldn’t imagine a scenario unless, God forbid, one had only one foot. The list of restrictions continued from there.

Tom has always been prepared to unload as much as possible of his belongings to avoid paying any more outrageous excess baggage fees. We’d already paid over KES $173,500, US $2000 in fees between the Dubai and Venice airports, our only flights thus far.  

The nights of me wearing these dresses are over.  They are all in this pile.

I, on the other hand, wondered what I’d do if I eliminated all my “go out to dinner clothing, shoes, and accessories” some of which I’ve worn in every country we’ve lived in and on every night on the cruises. 

This decision came on Monday night. I tossed and turned all night. This was the final straw in me letting go, narrowing everything in the world, I personally owned down to the maximum that airlines allow to avoid excess baggage fees, a hard reality. Who are they to dictate what I can and can’t take around the world with me?  Anger welled up inside of me. 

Many of you may think, so what? It’s just clothing and shoes. But, as a woman that always delighted in dressing nicely, it had become part of who I am. 

We all, in our own way, are a package. And at some point in our young lives, we develop into the person we choose to become; our demeanor, our persona, our style (or lack of style, if one so chooses), our integrity, our honor, our values, our intellectual pursuits, our business acumen or skill set, and our relationships. For me, it was a package, all pieces included.

Tom understood my angst.  He knows me well accepting all the pieces. He hasn’t pressed the issue. Never. Not after spending the US $2000 for excess baggage. Not recently as we tried to figure out this dilemma. He knew I had to come to this decision on my own.  He was right.

Yesterday morning I gave him the news. I was ready to let go. He hauled out the four packed cardboard boxes from the second bedroom to the glass table in the outdoor living room and I began going through them, keeping only a few items, adding many more. The more I went through the process, the more detached I became, knowing full well this was the right thing to do.

This doesn’t look like much, but it weighs over 40 pounds (18 kg).  In addition, we’ve tossed another 10 pounds in old and worn items (4.5 kg).  On our last flight, our overage was 44 pounds (20 kg).

Tom jumped in with both feet, pulling out newer “casual dressy” clothing, placing them in the boxes along with my items. We’ve literally eliminated 40% of our combined clothing, more mine than Tom’s since he’d already cut back as we’ve traveled, to allow room for my things.

Of course, not all of our belongings consist of clothing and shoes. Perhaps 25% is supplies, electronics, required paper records, cosmetics, and toiletries (of which we have the minimum). We don’t even have a bottle of body lotion using only coconut oil in its place. No perfume. No bubble bath. No soaps. 

Friday, we’ll seal the “space bags,” weigh everything, including the suitcases. Based on the allowed weight for the upcoming airlines, we expect to be within the limits subsequently avoiding excess baggage fees.

Hesborn and Jeremiah will be given the boxes of discarded men’s items to share among themselves with the women’s clothing and shoes to be shared among their wives and sisters.

Nothing we have left in our possession will be appropriate to wear to dinner on our next upcoming cruise in nine months.  We have no doubt that we’ll figure it out as the time approaches.

Physically, it will be easier to haul the bags. Emotionally, we’ll spend no time worrying about the luggage.  Financially, we’ll save US $1000’s each year on excess baggage fees. 

The angst is gone. Acceptance has been found in its place and finally, after 13 months, we’re truly free. 

Part 2, Departure plan in place..Step by step process…Handling of leftover supplies…

It would be ideal if we could use all of the foodstuffs, cleaning supplies, and paper products that we acquired when spending up to three months at each location. Each time we move into a new location, we’ve found that we spend a fair sum to stock the new home with the basic necessities. 

Our goals are simple; don’t be wasteful and, don’t be wasteful with our money. However, we must admit that we’ll be leaving many items behind that are both impractical and costly to pack.

Although we try to gauge how much of any item we’ll use, it is frustrating to have purchased grocery items we never used, ingredients for a specific recipe that we never made but purchased with the best intentions. It is those very items that often filled our kitchen cabinets anyway, stuff we may never use, eventually to be donated or thrown away? Besides, no matter where we live, I’m not exempt from the occasional “impulse purchase.” 

When we arrived here, I jumped at the chance to purchase a large bottle of organic “real” vanilla extract for KES $520.50, US $5.76.  ‘d hoped to find unsweetened “real” chocolate so I could make our favorite sugar free, low carb fudge. Never found the chocolate. Never opened the bottle of vanilla. So it goes. I won’t bore you with several other such items we’ll be leaving behind. 

Then, there’s the bigger expense that we’ve incurred while in Kenya, the purchase of “scratch-off” cards for data to “top off” our Kenya SIM cards for our two MiFi devices for Internet connectivity. These are useless to us once we leave Kenya. They don’t work outside the country, typical for SIM cards in most countries, tricky for us world travelers. 

Another area of concern is the disposal of clothing that has either worn out or we’ve found to have no occasion to wear.

The question for today:  How will we dispose of leftover, unused, unwanted, and no longer relevant items which we have no desire or intention of packing?

The food items will be left behind informing Hesborn or Jeremiah to take any of the items they’ll use and either leave the balance for future renters or if they choose, for Hans and Jeri.

When we left Italy, we’d posted photos of a pile of clothing and shoes we’d left behind for Lisa and Luca, the kindly landlords, to either keep, give to family or friends, or to donate which they gladly offered when we mentioned this dilemma. 

The clothing, yet to be sorted, is much smaller now that we’ve narrowed our clothing down to one large suitcase each. Some worn items will be tossed. In a concerted effort to reduce the weight of our bags, we’ve decided to ship ahead a few boxes utilizing the Ukunda post office that will allow us to insure the contents of the boxes.  Alfred will drive us to Ukunda on Friday to ship them off.

At this point, we have no idea as to the cost to ship these boxes within the continent. The fact that we’re willing to ship them by the slowest possible method to save on the cost should result in our receiving them within a month or so, which is fine for us. 

Why not toss these items? The biggest issue is the difficulty in finding clothing to fit me. I’m tall and wear an odd size. My inseam is 35″ (88 cm). Do I want to take the time to find a pair of pants or dress long enough not to embarrass myself? No. In all of the countries we’ve visited thus far, the women are shorter than I (here’s a chart of the average heights of men and women worldwide).

In only nine months I’ll need the to-be-shipped clothing items and shoes for two upcoming cruises. One of the highlights of cruising for us is dining in the main dining areas which typically don’t allow jeans or shorts. 

We don’t want to be forced to eat at the buffet for dinner due to our lack of proper clothing, which we’ve only done twice on our eight prior cruises, each time, much to our dismay; once when returning late from an excursion with the main dining room closed and another, on the night of a Minnesota Vikings Playoff game when we loaded trays filled with food to take to our cabin to watch the game. (The TV signal was lost almost entirely throughout the game and, surprisingly, ha, Minnesota lost).

Yes, I know in a prior post, I’d mentioned my willingness to forgo style and selection in my attire. But when on cruises, one surely desires to get their money’s worth of the meals already included in the fare in the main dining areas. Were it not for this fact, I’d gladly dispose of my few remaining dresses, and matching sandals. In any case, we’re shipping all of those. 

We’d already ditched all of our “formal attire” for the dress-up nights, falling back on our basic inventory for those evenings since formal wear is not mandatory on most cruises. 

In essence, it’s clothing and shoes that we’re shipping. I have six pairs of shoes in my possession and my beloved safari boots. That’s all I own: one pair of Keds leather slip ons, one pair of tan 3″ heels, one pair of water shoes, plus three pairs of Clark’s sandals: black, beige and white. (I left my bulky workout shoes in Italy.  These can easily be replaced once we’re near a health club again).

Tom, on the other hand, has four pairs of shoes: one pair of tennis shoes, one pair of water shoes and two pairs of Cole Haan, one dressy, one casual, and of course, his safari boots. 

Start adding up shoes alone and they consume an entire carry on bag. Ah, the challenges of stuff, continues to play a role in our lives, although considerably less than it used to.

The end result of our clothing issues;  we’re shipping ahead enough weight in shoes and clothing, weighing everything on our portable scale, in order to avoid paying excess baggage fees when we fly to South Africa a week from today. Once these boxes are shipped, we’ll share how much we paid for the shipping.

The final items that we’ve contemplated over these past few weeks, was the remaining data left on our SIM cards on my MiFis. As of today, Tom has 8.7 gigabytes, remaining and I have 9.1 gigabytes remaining, more than enough for Tom to watch the Minnesota Vikings game and for me to download several TV shows and movies. 

We carefully tracked our data usage since arriving in Kenya, in an effort to ensure we didn’t leave the country with too much paid-for but unused data. 

We’ve determined, via our recordkeeping that our combined average daily usage is approximately .5 gigabytes resulting in our ability to save enough data for the layover at the Nairobi airport.  Once we arrive in Johannesburg our devices will no longer work containing the Kenya SIM cards.

We’re pleased that in the past month, it wasn’t necessary to purchase additional data by carefully monitoring our usage:  no videos other than downloaded TV shows for our evening entertainment and Tom’s Minnesota Vikings games. Avoiding the download of Facebook videos was most instrumental in us having ample data to get us through this next week. 

Yes, we still may have unused data remaining at the end, which we hope to use to download movies and TV shows.

So, there it is folks.  The process of winding down appears more complicated than it is. It requires careful thought and planning, neither of which is foreign to us.  As we maneuver our way to yet another country in our ongoing quest for exploration and wonder, we can smile, knowing that we’re doing everything we can to make the transition as stress-free as possible.