MARCH 24, 2013
Last day of real travel.
The common question folks have been asking me is, “Are you ready to go
back?” to which I can definitively say, “No.”
Most everything about my travels have been wonderful, which I hope has been
made clear by my writings.
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| As you can tell by the shading I'm pretty much and expert photographer |
The one thing I will miss the least about my travels is the
constant, never ending stream of lies told by merchants in an attempt to
get my business. You perhaps read a
while back about my papaya smoothie incident in Sri Lanka. There could literally be a story like that
every day. Today I got screwed one last
time before hitting the road.
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| I'm no civil engineer but that right turn from the center lane may have been a bad idea |
I asked my hotel to arrange for a desert “safari” which is
to say a four wheel drive trip in to the desert. A traveler I met told me how the desert
silence is unlike any silence I’ve ever heard.
Or not heard. Or however I’m
supposed to word that.
After all this time surrounded by skyscrapers and rich
people I was ready for one final escape into nature. I knew, and was indifferent to, the fact that
the hotel would gouge me a bit on pricing.
The only thing I was adamant about was that I was not part of some large
group circus-like off road expedition and that this would be a small group of
two or three vehicle. “No problem! Very small.
Very small.” I was told.
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| Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! |
Not until after I paid and was driven an hour out of town
did I realized we were part of a convoy of 12 vehicles from the tour company I
was with and part of a larger group with about 60 vehicles in total. There would be no silence. Only a desert baja expedition with four rowdy
Saudi men in back who kept urging the driver to go faster, launch off of bigger
dunes and be more and more reckless. It
would have been so cool if I were 16 years old.
I’m not. I wanted it to end.
The dune jumping session was followed by a trip to some camp
in the middle of the desert complete with buffet food, dancers, hookahs, open
bar and really terrible faux-arab dance music.
It was hell, though a funny way to end my trip when you think about
it. Most people start with organized
tours then maybe work out to venturing out in to some type of solo travel
adventure. Three months ago I landed in
Sri Lanka and wandered the central highland mountains by myself. Today I sit eating
prepared Western food as part of a tour package. Of course it wasn’t all bad – I got to see cleavage
for the first time in three months.
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| And who doesn't love fake Russian cleavage, really? |
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