Back to Sea: Finike to Fethiye

April 4^th was our planned date of departure from Finike, marking the beginning of our 2014 cruising season. Our friend from back in Fort Lauderdale, Christine Kling, and her new fiancé Wayne, had arrived a day before and we had prepared the boat and bought in a few provisions. Christine is a well-known author of thriller/action-adventure fiction, mostly set aboard boats and in cruising locales. (Check out Christine Kling on Kindle for titles – they are a great read with tight narratives, colourful characters and a brilliant sense of life on the water, drawn from Christine’s own experience). I don’t know quite how to describe what Wayne does, but he gets paid to predict future trends – and he’s a very smart guy and great company. Christine is in Europe researching her next novel (this is obviously how she manages the authentic sense of place) and it was fascinating to watch her creative process at first hand during the days they spent with us aboard and at our stops in Finike, Kekova and Kas. It was also exciting to watch Christine’s current book, Dragon’s Triangle reach number 2 on Kindle’s best seller list while we travelled!

We did find it a little sad to depart from our winter home in Finike, where we enjoyed the town and the marina and made some lovely friends amongst the international cruising community over the winter. I hope we have some happy reunions over the coming years! However, it’s always exciting to set sail again, and we had the dramatic coastline of Turkey to explore, along with the prospect of Ephesus, Gallipoli, Istanbul and possibly the Black Sea over the months ahead. There were a few dire predictions about the weather for the 4^th, but we couldn’t find any real evidence for “Force 8 winds” approaching, so we set off for a short sail to Kekova, a fine sheltered estuary with Lycian tombs and a Crusader castle. Besides being an easy sail and a perfect anchorage, we figured Kekova might provide some useful background for Christine’s novel-in-progress. We climbed up to the castle for spectacular views, and tried a fairly challenging hike through the rocky coastline in search of tombs. Lunch in the little village was a highlight – especially watching an elderly lady in the regulation white cap roll out fresh gozleme for us to eat.
 

The next short hop was up the coast to Kas, where we decided to anchor in the peaceful southern hook of the bay at Bayinder Limani. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to set anchor on the deep, rocky bottom, we were happy to be beckoned in and assisted to tie up at the dock of Nuri’s Restaurant.  He offers free docking with lazy lines, power and water (plus a free washing machine) provided you eat at his restaurant. This was not a problem as the food was good and well-priced, right on the water under a massive cliff-face featuring ancient tombs, and the lights of Kas and Kastellorizo twinkling by night. Christine, Wayne and I hiked up along the cliff-face to a couple of the tombs, and I suspect some of the mysterious inscriptions might have provided a spark for our resident writer…

In good weather it’s easy to run over to Kas by your own dinghy if it’s big enough.  Otherwise use the water taxi at TL10 each way or TL15 if you’re doing a round trip. As Wayne and Christine were catching the dolmus in Kas to continue their journey to Istanbul, we all took the taxi over. All winter we’ve been meaning to catch up with our friends Betty and David who have an apartment in Kas (David Is the owner/skipper of First Edition III, our fellow Catalina 42 on the ARC Europe Rally in 2012) and here we finally were! It was great to see their smiling faces again and to catch up over a coffee at the waterfront Baba Noel (Father Christmas) Tearoom. David and Betty very kindly showed us the sights of their home town, from hilltop tombs to the best local fruit shop to a great little family restaurant for lunch. At this point we bid farewell to Wayne and Christine – enjoy the rest of your Grand Tour, and very best wishes for the marriage and the new book! It was a real treat to have you both aboard Common Sense and you are welcome back any time.

Then it was up the hill for a refreshing cider at Betty and Dave’s apartment, with its glorious view of the bay from the balcony. Thanks so much – it was great to catch up and I hope we can do so again somewhere along the way.

After another peaceful night at Nuri’s and a dinghy trip into Kas for a bit of shopping, we set off on another short hop to Kalcan, an upmarket town that seems to about 90% expats’ apartments. Here we had endless frustration attempting to anchor in what seemed to be a rock bottom covered in about two inches of sand. We were advised by an English lady we met later in Kayakoy that yachts often anchor in her bay, the next one around, in between the western one and Kalcan itself.  The suburb is called Kalamar, with villas and restaurants but the bay itself is unnamed on charts. Anyway, this advice came too late: we gave up and sailed on, finally anchoring off the long white beach at Patara. Not to be done in anything but calm weather - it was - we enjoyed a slightly rolly rest under the stars near the mouth of the now-silted up river which was a thriving port in ancient times.

Next day actually saw the sails go up and a couple of hours at a brisk 6 knots! At the end of the day we edged right in to the tiny inlet of Gemilir Buku and tied up to shore. The water was beautifully clear for swimming and snorkelling, but as always there was little underwater life. I don’t know if the Med used to be more prolific, but in the shallows now you only ever see sea urchins, small clams and mussels, the odd yellow tubular sponge, and schools of small fish. We dinghied over to explore the ruins on St Nicholas Island, which appears to have been part of the medieval ‘package tour’ of sites to visit on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Next day we decided the boat would be a little more secure on a mooring ball around in the next bay. These belong to the Karacaoren Restaurant and the usual deal applies - you use the mooring, you eat at the restaurant. It was a bit pricey, but quite pleasant and full of ramshackle nautical character. The dinghy guy is an expert at getting you set on your mooring ball, and he was beside us like a rocket when Terry edged Common Sense out, looking for a charted exit passage between two islands that turned out not to be a passage at all – no-one was running aground on his watch!

Next up on the slow crawl northwards was the pleasant town of Fethiye, popular with cruisers, expats and tourists both Turkish and foreign. We anchored easily in good sticky mud just off the primary school, where we were entertained by the bells, assembly announcements and antics of the kids for four days. In Turkish schools you are obviously allowed to climb trees, play brandy and race around in great gangs of boys and girls chasing at least three soccer balls. However you are not permitted to climb the fence and hang out on the sea wall. The teachers don’t like that. We were close to Yes Marina, which became our local bar and a place to meet some of the local boaties.

Along with shopping, finding a few geocaches and exploring the town, we took a bus out to Kayakoy where thousands of Greeks were expelled from the town in the population exchanges of 1923.  We passed through the resort town of Oludeniz on the way set up for Brit tourists.  All the restaurants advertise "Full English Breakfast" and "Liga TV - Arsenal v Hull City" etc.  The tourist season has not fully started yet - they say May 25th, when all building work in places like Kas and Kalcan has to stop until the season is over.  Still, there are heaps and heaps of British tourists around, generally identified by their flaming sunburn. Kayakoy itself was rather eerie in the way of all ghost towns. It must have been quite beautiful, with its cobbled streets winding up the steep hillside and its nestled stone buildings. It would have been very hard to give up life in the village for the ugly jerry-built suburbs of Athens, though the exchange may well have prevented decades of Balkans-style feuding and bloodshed.

Back in town, we did the climb up to the extraordinary Lycian rock tombs that have looked down on Fethiye for nearly 3000 years.

Africa #2: The Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater and Zanzibar

Carol: This is absolutely awesome
Cherry: It doesn't get any worse


She's right. You really need National Geographic's best photographers and the voice of David Attenborough to do justice to this part of East Africa, and I'm not sure even they are equal to the task.
Many people have tried to capture in words or images the richness and diversity of the "endless plain" (Siringet in the Maasai language) but there is nothing like being there. The vast herds of wildebeest and zebra massing for their great migration; lakes full of wallowing hippo; the grace of giraffe sauntering across the grasslands; the sounds of hyena whooping in the darkness; the sight and scent of a pride of lions, bellies swollen by a recent kill, lolling by the water's edge; a hierarchy of vultures cleaning a dead antelope to bare bones; fat purple storm clouds, the dazzle of lightning, and thunder rumbling around the circling hills. Three million large animals (and millions more smaller ones) sharing one huge habitat.

Safaris-R-Us, the company run by Gemma Sisia's husband Richard, provided our driver/guides Walter and Edwin, and we could not have asked for a better experience. These two were total professionals: knowledgeable, brilliant at spotting game, patient and accommodating, and great fun to have around. I thought I had a pretty wide vocabulary, but Walter's was prodigious: his stories and explanations were a delight to listen to (remind me to tell you the honey badger story some time!). Edwin was a spotter extraordinaire and a great entertainer - the two were an unbeatable combination.

At times our game-spotting was so successful, it felt like we were ordering from a menu. eg Hazel: I hope we see some elephants today [family of elephants spotted making their way towards us]. Carol: I'd like to see a baboon [cue baboons trooping on the road ahead]. Leonie: We haven't seen a kill yet. [A serval stalks and kills a bush rat beside the vehicle] and so it went on. The rains meant that the grass was lush and all the animals we saw were sleek and healthy. At this point I might let the pictures do the talking for a while:

Tree climbing lion

A dazzle of zebra

 



Venerable warthog (Leonie's pic)

 

Vultures

 

Hippo, from the balloon

 

Well-fed pride

 

Baby baboon

 

Cheetah with cubs (Leonie's pic)

 

And I haven't yet mentioned our campsite in the middle of the Serengeti. Chaka Camp was wonderful - large canvas tents plus a shared dining tent. But these were no ordinary tents! Each had a proper bathroom and toilet, and large welcoming beds. Every comfort you could imagine was provided, including warm water, escorts to and from our tent (one night we saw a hyena right beside the track!) and a wake-up call that included tea, coffee and ginger biscuits. The communal meals, prepared in a small galley tent, were outstanding. I would happily have stayed there for another week, perhaps enjoying a little more time sitting around the fire or watching the wildlife from our 'verandah'. Thanks to all the staff who made the stay so memorable, even managing a surprise birthday cake and an all-singing all-dancing performance of "Jambo!" for Dawn's birthday.

 

We were disappointed when the planned balloon ride was cancelled due to high winds, but a bit of behind-the-scenes organising resulted in a second chance the following day. In the meantime, we had an absolutely awesome day's game spotting, with the highlight a close-up view of the Serengeti's famous tree-climbing lions. The following morning's balloon-ride was glorious, with sweeping vistas of the plains and the massing herds below. Sadly Leonie and then Hazel were too ill to join the flight, but a full refund (and the prospect of tanzanite jewellery) were some consolation. We enjoyed the champagne breakfast that has traditionally followed a balloon ride since the Montgolfiers' original flight, only ours was under a tree in the middle of the Serengeti!

By now, we were up to Day 9 and it still hadn't got any worse! This was the day that most of us undertook a hike into the Olmoti crater, accompanied by an armed guard ("to protect the animals from us"). The altitude was a bit of a challenge for some, but after some instruction from Walter on how to breathe and pace yourself, we managed fine. Well, apart from two of us, who ended up knee deep in mud ... The views of the huge crater and the waterfall below were so spectacular that even the most respectable amongst us were heard to utter an expletive or two. We now moved quarters to the Ngorongoro Serena Lodge, a spectacular setting with a bazillion dollar view over the whole crater, or caldera as it is more accurately called.



"The hills are alive ..."

That afternoon most of the group chose to have a rest, though they had an exciting moment when the vehicle encountered a leopard swaggering down the road ahead and there was a mad rush for cameras. Brian and I took advantage of an opportunity to visit a Maasai boma, a traditional enclosure of mud huts surrounding their cattle pen in the centre. The Maasai are herders of cattle, sheep, goats and donkeys. They are permitted to graze their animals in parts of the Serengeti and the Crater as they do not grow crops or hunt. Their diet consists almost entirely of meat, milk and blood, along with some herbal preparations that apparently help them to survive on such a restricted diet. People live in family-based groups, strictly segregated by sex and age, and there are specific roles for each age group. The young men of warrior age, for example, are expected to stay awake all night to guard the boma from intruders and wild animals, only sleeping for a few hours during the day. Brian and I joined in with some singing and dancing (his vertical jumping was pretty impressive for a white guy) and ate some barbecued goat while hearing about Maasai culture from a young warrior who spoke excellent English. I have to admit I found the huts a bit confronting - made of cattle dung mixed with ash and clay, they are very dark and hot inside, and smoky from the stone hearth in the centre. Not surprisingly, given this and the diet, TB and other diseases are common. On our drive back, Walter told us about the fierce reputation of the Maasai, who, along with acquiring land by conquest have resisted many attempts to move them and to take over their traditional lands. They are seen as strong, principled and uncompromising and he told us about several Maasai who have been fine political leaders in Tanzania because of these qualities.

Our next overnight was the Ngorongoro Farm House, modelled on a thatch roofed colonial homestead and set in a coffee plantation. The gardens here were beautiful, including a vegetable garden that supplies the restaurant. A few cubic metres of the rich chocolaty earth would work magic in the pathetic sand of our 'garden' in Dalyellup! We had yet another fine meal, with free enormous gin cocktails and some local singing and dancing, with Ruth once again up for a knees-up and Andy testing the limits of his new hip.

 

 

 And then it was up at the crack of Dawn (sorry) for a descent into the Ngorongoro game reserve. Unbelievably, the wildlife here was even more abundant than on the Serengeti, as it is more concentrated. Our first encounter was with two full grown male lions making their way up the crater rim. After that we tracked down some beautiful African Crowned Cranes to order, plus some magnificently tusked elephants (sadly, the big tuskers have survived here because hunters and poachers have been intent on the rhino.) And then, as planned, a massive Black Rhino was spotted in the distance, making his stately way towards us - and that completed the classic "Big Five": elephant, lion, leopard, buffalo and rhino! We had lunch by a lake full of hippo, then encountered lions by the roadside, so fearless that they sidled up to the vehicles seeking a bit of shade. The birdlife here was also fabulous, with many raptor species, vultures, Maribou and European storks, cranes, ibis, the comic Secretary Bird, lovebirds and thousands of flamingos. Finally it was time to make our way out of the crater, so it was roofs down, cameras away - but wait! Brian aka 'The Lion King' had spotted a lioness with two cubs - we pulled over and watched them, delighted at this final gift from the African savannah.

We farewelled Walter and Edwin in style, with a rousing chorus of  "The Twelve Days of Safari" penned by Steve and sung with more enthusiasm than talent, each of us contributing a relevant line. What a great job Walter and Edwin did - I hope they enjoyed their time with us even just a fraction as much as we did. And thanks to all those at Safaris-R-Us who did all the background work that made it possible.

And still it didn't get any worse because next we were off to Zanzibar! This island group off Tanzania's coast has a famous history as the centre of the spice trade, and an infamous one as the centre of the eastern slave trade. Touring old Stone Town, it felt very like Morocco, Turkey or some other part of the Arab empire as indeed it was: square stone buildings with box balconies and massive carved wooden doors, spice markets and women with headscarves in vivid colours, and the familiar Muslim call to prayer echoing from the mosques. 'Discovered' by Vasco da Gama in 1498, Zanzibar became a Portuguese colony until it fell under the Sultanate of Oman in 1698. The wealth of Zanzibar grew through trading spices, ivory and slaves until the British forced an end to slavery in 1856. It was a chilling experience to tour the cathedral built on the old slave market, and to see the marble marking the place of the old whipping post. More confronting still was a journey into the basement cells, where hundreds of slaves were believed to have been kept chained and fed up to put some flesh on their bones, ready to be sold.


Just as interesting, though more light-hearted, was our afternoon spice tour, where we enjoyed a delicious lunch of pilau rice, spicy lentils, meat and vegetables, all prepared on site in a very basic kitchen with the produce of the spice garden. Then we tracked the spices back to plants in the garden. It was fascinating to see cloves, pepper, cardamom, nutmeg, turmeric, allspice, cinnamon and many others as quite unfamiliar plants. Dawn and Brian, our chefs, were clear winners in the 'sniff and identify' contest. And just as our collective energy seemed to be waning, we were whisked away to the Essque Resort, a glorious spa resort with an infinity pool, lush tropical gardens and a jetty/bar stretching out into a warm Indian Ocean. A pounding of heavy warm rain that left us briefly flooded. More wonderful meals, swimming and relaxing, talking over our adventures - what a great way to round off the trip!

 

Cloves

But wait, there's more... A morning of scuba diving in 27 degree water, eels, pipefish, huge schools of colourful reef fish, and of course a big Green Turtle rubbing its belly on the coral, two minutes after Steve's Go-Pro ran out of battery. And then next day, after a lovely long last breakfast, it really was all over. Time to farewell my favourite roomy Hazel to New Zealand; Dawn and Brian, Andy and Cherry back to Oz; Leonie, Steve, Neil, Debora and the "Golden Girls" Ruth and Barbara on to Victoria Falls, where I'm sure it didn't get any worse.

This is just the bare bones of a trip where virtually every minute was filled with colour and interest, new sensations and wonderful interactions with people. Thanks to everyone who made this unforgettable experience possible.

Write at Sea

Hi all
For anyone who's interested, I've set up another blog for short stories, poems and other jottings that don't really belong in the "Welcome Aboard Common Sense" one. Its address is writeatsea.BlogSpot.com. You are welcome to read/ comment, and also to share any of your own writing which I will happily review, if you'd. like me to.
Cheers
Carol

Africa Part 1: St Judes

About eight years ago I went along to the University of WA hear a talk by a young Australian woman named Gemma Sisia. With the mission of “Fighting Poverty through Education”, Gemma and her friends had founded a school for the poorest of Tanzania’s children, funded entirely by direct sponsorship – the School of St Jude in Arusha <www.schoolofstjude.org>. I was so inspired by what they were doing that I’ve been sponsoring a child and a teacher at the school ever since. So when the news came that some friends (including Leonie and Steve from last year’s Saronic cruise, and Andy and Cherry, owners of our ‘summer residence’) were organising a two week trip to Africa that included a stay at St Judes, it was impossible to resist. I could fly from Istanbul and join the safari in Nairobi. In reality it was even better as their Perth flight and mine from Turkey connected in Dubai - what a pleasure (and a relief) to meet all the crew in the airport!
 

For some reason I had imagined we’d be roughing it a bit, and was quite taken aback by the elegance of the Eka Hotel in Nairobi, where we enjoyed the first of many fine meals and very comfortable beds. I met those of the group who were friends of friends, including Hazel, a British New Zealander and Special Ed teacher who was a delightful room-mate for the rest of the trip. So now my worry was no longer surviving the dangerous streets of Nairobi, but salvaging something fit to wear from the shabby boat clothes that now comprise my wardrobe. Fortunately a solution soon presented itself in a local enterprise, Kazuri Beads, where a group of women craft and sell beautiful painted ceramic jewellery. A few gorgeous necklaces would distract from my faded T shirts and appalling footwear. The Eka Hotel also gave Steve, Neil and I the opportunity to sample a couple of African beers for Terry, in absentia.

Our first full day in Kenya was very full indeed. We started out at the Giraffe Centre, a refuge where we were able to interact with and learn about these extraordinary animals. By ‘interact’, I actually mean that we were encouraged to 'kiss' the giraffes by offering them food pellets from our mouths. This is nowhere near as revolting or unhygienic as it sounds – giraffes have antiseptic saliva as an adaptation to eating the viciously spiny acacia trees, and their tongues are fine-tuned to wrap delicately around a morsel of food. Giraffe-kissing was quite a sensual experience, and not one I’d ever really thought of adding to the bucket list!

Next up we caught the one hour daily window  of epic cuteness when the baby elephants are fed at  David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage. Elephants that have lost their mothers through poaching, accident or disease are rescued and brought to the centre where they are treated, reared with one-to-one attention, then reintroduced to a wild herd. Hazel sponsored a baby named Sokotei who had just been brought in and was desperately trying to become part of the group.

Sokotei's first day

Finally we headed out to Karen Blixen House, the beautiful old homestead of the author of "Out of Africa", now a museum where it is quite easy to imagine Kenya's colonial past. The district is still named "Karen" in honour of a woman who had a much more enlightened and generous attitude to the African people than most, founding schools, hospitals and farming enterprises for the workers on her farm and the local people.

We concluded an amazing day with an equally amazing dinner at "Carnivore" restaurant, where meats of every kind are roasted over a huge fire-pit and served with delicious sauces and condiments to complement each type. I think each of us consumed his or her own weight in beef, pork, lamb, chicken and turkey, with the more adventurous trying crocodile, ostrich and certain choice body parts of other animals. Quantities of medicinal Dawa helped with the superhuman feats of digestion required throughout the evening and well into the night.

Bright and early next morning  (skipping the bacon at breakfast) we were packed up ready for the drive to St Judes, across the Tanzanian border in Arusha. Out of the rarefied atmosphere of hotels and restaurants, you start to feel you are really in Africa, with flat-topped acacia trees, patches of dense forest vegetation, ramshackle villages and especially people walking everywhere, even in the middle of nowhere. I only had a brief impression of Arusha itself, a confused mix of fine houses, rough shacks, modern offices, sprawling markets, mud-brick huts ..??? Then we were off down a muddy pot-holed road that led to ... a set of handsome buildings in beautiful garden surroundings, the School of St Jude!

  Gemma greeted us personally, and Nathan, a young Aussie volunteer on the Visitors' Team, helped us to settle in and introduced us to a group of Year 5 students who were our tour guides. And what impressive guides they were! Fluent in English, Swahili and often another language as well, the kids were bright, knowledgeable and extremely proud of their school. I had an opportunity to visit Mr Peter Manjalla, the Principal of the primary school, whom I have helped to sponsor for eight years. He is a warm and welcoming personality, obviously loved by the students; I was moved to see that he had a photo of me with one of my Year 12 classes, pinned on his noticeboard.

St Judes has been built and runs entirely on donations and sponsorship. It has grown to include primary and secondary campuses and facilities for boarding. Nearly 2000 children now attend the school, and as you might imagine, this has huge spin-offs for the local economy. St Judes tries to employ Tanzanians wherever possible, as teachers, house parents, gardeners, cooks, cleaners, security, health workers, maintenance staff, bus drivers, mechanics etc etc, and food and other products are sourced locally. It was awesome to see the place in action at last, and to get a sense of the ripple effect it has on the community. We enjoyed dinner in the dining hall with the students that evening - good nutrition and health have been a cornerstone of education at St Judes from the outset, and it was great to see kids full of energy and vigour, but restrained by good manners. We stayed in pleasant rooms in the visitors' quarters, with the one privilege the students don't have - hot showers!

An excellent breakfast was provided for us by Mr Peter, a cook who has been at St Judes from the very start, then we had a chance to talk with Gemma about some aspects of the school: the strong competition for places - children have to show academic potential but they also have to meet the criteria for extreme poverty; in an effort to spread the benefits to as many families as possible, no siblings are eligible. Gemma spoke of their policy of welcoming visitors and personally thanking all donors, and the way this has produced unexpected benefits; she told us about future projects, in particular a community service program for graduates of the school to give back to the community (for example, as maths, science and English teaching assistants at local government schools, or working in St Judes' visitors program) and the huge challenge of finding support for their graduates to attend college or university. We were in total awe at what this woman and her supporters have envisioned and achieved in ten years!

Our first stop was a Masai village to see the choir that they had established. After a traditional greeting and performance, we were invited to dress up in colourful cloths and beads to join in. We ladies learned the art of ululation and our senior traveller - Bibi (Grandmother)Ruth was the hit of the day: her eighty-six years didn't stop her from dancing or from catching the eye of the chief. More of the Masai in the next blog ...

Bibi Ruth with the oldest women of the tribe

Next we set off to the local government school, accompanied by one of the St Judes drivers who attended that school himself. He told us that when he was there they didn't even have a school building, but sat with their teacher and a single blackboard under a big tree. We met Mrs Anna, the school Principal, and learned about some of the challenges facing government schools. When asked what single thing would make the most difference to the school, she said, "Books, textbooks", and this was clearly in evidence when we visited a classroom. In a class of over fifty children, groups of four kids were sharing one well-worn, dated English comprehension text, the answers rubbed out and rewritten multiple times. All children are supposed to receive a primary education, though it is a challenge to convince some tribal people that kids should be in school rather than tending a valuable heard of cattle. There is a shortage of trained teachers, and a massive shortage of resources. The biggest disadvantage is that entry to secondary school is competitive as there are far fewer places than children. Furthermore, secondary education is conducted in English, and few children receive good enough training in English to pass the tests or to cope in secondary school. Our guide told us that he had studied desperately but had not gained entry into highschool; only one boy from his entire school managed to make it. 

Next up was St Judes secondary campus, another fine set of buildings in a beautiful setting - evidence of Gemma's belief that these children should have the best possible education. While the rest of the group attended a music lesson and toured the school, I finally got to meet my sponsored student,  Peris, and travelled on a school bus with her to her home in Arusha town to meet her family. Before we left, Nathan had told me a great story about the family. Peris had been helping her father to learn English, and he had bought himself a dictionary and a textbook to improve. This had enabled him to get a good job as a safari camp driver, and the family had been able to move to a better house - a two room concrete place instead of a mud brick hut. Peris was now helping her three young sisters with their studies, in particular with English which would give them a much better chance of getting into secondary school The ripple effect of St Judes - Fighting Poverty through Education - could not be more clearly illustrated.

The bus trip through the narrow, crowded streets of the township was an education in itself. Children and chickens in about equal numbers scrambled around a maze of gardens and makeshift homes. Tiny businesses were everywhere - shoe-makers, auto mechanics, sellers of everything . Peris' house was down a narrow potholed lane from which I thought the bus would never escape. Her beautiful mother welcomed us with spiced tea and donuts, and we had a very nice afternoon as I met her father and sisters and we chatted with the help of Peris and one of the teachers who accompanied us. I was quite overwhelmed to meet these lovely people and to hear about what a difference St Judes has made to their lives. Peris' goal is to study accounting and finance, as she has a talent in this field and believes she can make a difference to her community and her country by helping to foster business. Of course Terry approves strongly of goals like this and we are giving some thought to how we might help in the future.

Peris with her family

Next up we set off with Safaris-R-Us for the Serengeti - more soon, with amazing pictures!