Tag Archives: nature

Malaysia: Jungle trekking in Taman Negara

4 June 2019 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

– Shhh…listen! Abdullah understood me and stood quiet. The music of the jungle was so loud in reality, all the insects, birds and animals had something to say. I couldn’t recognise any but Abdullah, my tracking guide that day in Taman Negara jungle, he could. He understood that wild language and started to whisper their names to me. I was thinking how forests in Europe are so quiet compared to the jungles of Asia.

Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur

I left Singapore shortly, no matter how amazing a city is, for me the real wonders are further, away from the glass and iron and concrete. I landed in Kuala Lumpur an noon, I took a bus and then a taxi to arrive in front of the 57 floors tall building where my accommodation for the next nights was. I was proud of myself, I managed to find my way through the city. KL was not as posh as Singapore but seemed to me more alive. The traffic jam was crazy and il started to look like that Asia I was imagining before. We ran on the large streets and suspended passages, by sky scrapers, among hundreds of bikers wearing jackets with the back side in the front, as a shield, meant to protect them.

The infinity pool in KL

– Wow! I couldn’t help exclaiming when the guy who accompanied me form the reception opened the door to my studio. It feels so good to have a bit of spoil when traveling and, c’mon, a 5 stars accommodation for a few nights never hurt any adventure spirit. The place was huge and the interior design so luxurious. But the view won on me: through the glass walls of the living and bedroom, the sight was breathtaking: ski scrapers, busy roads, a mad city revealing itself down there.

But the actual reason I have chosen this fancy place, besides the fact that in Europe I could no way afford that, was this:

Who needs Marina Bay Sands, 350$ a night, when you can get this in KL for 50$. The Petronas Towers view was spectacular, seen from the edge of the infinity pool, was a moment to remember. I wished I could live there! My thought, while watching the city turning on its millions of lights as the sunset shades turned the twin towers into golden shapes, like two gods of the city. Amazing KL!

Street food adventure in KL

Was about time to get back to what I love the most: discovering a city by foot. After about 2h wandering the streets in central KL, I arrived in…… I took it personal when fireworks started to set the sky on fire, I felt welcomed. The therms “busy street” here were become too little said. It was an ant nest. Restaurants with opened kitchens and plastic tables and chairs in front, huge hot pans were shaken above tall flames, an effervescence of tourists mixing the uproar of locals, merchandise on stalls, fruits, meat, seafood. Make a choice if you can! I had some coconut water from a stall and found a free chair in the corner of a table. Luck gets sometimes strange shapes, mostly when we are hungry. And I was. I was now part of this crowd, for my wok.

The desert was a long expected one: durian. Finally! I got a better price easily at one stall and I found myself in front of two big pieces of the stinkiest of fruits, wrapped in plastic. I knew it’s better to taste it quickly before smelling. But I did’t. And the 1st thought was: At least I did’t buy a bigger piece… But then I taste. And for the first time in my life, was something I couldn’t decide if it was either love or hate. One thing is sure: the reactions I’ve seen on the web are just drama queen type. It is not so bad, even if 1st time is a bit strange. The smell is very strong, it’s why it is forbidden in hotels and airports. But it’s a must try.

Still pinching myself to make sure I really was in KL, I went back to my Platinum building, on streets flooded with so much light that a butterfly was still up, at midnight.

I was getting high on Asia. I fell asleep staring with eyes wide opened, from by bed, to the city skyline in front. A wall of lights, impossible to resist to.

Taman Negara jungle

In 2h I was up again. Was still dark when I went out of the hotel, the driver was already waiting for me, in a jeep in front. I was the only client that day, so a VIP tour.

Sun was his name, he was an Indian living for 3 generations already in Malaysia. We talked nonstop all the 4h as the ride to the jungle lasted. I was only muted in the end, when the road through the jungle was getting deep into the heart of Taman Negara, the 130 million years old jungle, home to tigers, wild elephants, birds and insects. I was speechless in front of this green wild wonder, with huge trees raising above the mist of the morning. We made a short stop and so I felt for the first time what 80-90% humidity feels like. But I was living a dream: to see the jungle.

Abdullah, my guide, was waiting for us at the tourist information point. We were introduced and minutes after I was following him as we went deeper and deeper in the woods. The further we went, the thicker the vegetation became. And humidity! Soon I was completely drenched, my clothes all wet and I felt as I was walking through water. Only there it was just air.

Abdullah was unbelievably knowledgeable, like a living encyclopaedia of Taman Negara. I saw ants of 2cm big that Abdullah said when they bite, are taking a pice of flesh and it hurts like crazy. He showed me all sorts of plants, used by the old tribes, the indigenous people, as food or poison, to built shelter or made glue and even sand paper. He told me how to figure out which fruits are good and which are not following the monkeys tracks. How to find the North and a few ways to stay safe if you get lost in the jungle. I always knew nature is providing us with everything and still, before Taman Negara, I was so far away of the true magnitude of this. Mother nature truly offers us EVERYTHING.

The sounds of the jungle were incredibly loud and my new friend recognised many of them. I have never imagined the jungle so noisy. Sometimes a bird was flying as we approached or a bush of fern was moving. Abdullah was indeed a man of the jungle and with every step we became more connected, united by this deep love we both shared: love for love.

– You see this place in the back, on the path? he said at one point

– Many years ago, while guiding a group of English people through the jungle, a tiger came out of the bushes, looked at us for a few seconds and then crossed the trail and disappeared behind the leaves.

– What did you do? came my silly question.

– Nothing. We were all frozen. Now the tigers are far, they have learned to avoid humans and stay deep in the forest. But maybe we get to see one today, he winks at me.

The forest was indeed deep. To reach its top point I hear one needs a whole week. Every end of day you have to arrive in one specific point in order to find the shelter build there and be protected over night. Abdullah shares with me a recent story of one guy who somehow got lost in the woods for 2 weeks. He was a guide there all his life. After missing for a few days, he was believed dead. Miraculously he was found after 2 weeks. In a perfect condition, which was unexplainable. Only one thing was strange about him: he was convinced we was lost in the woods for one night only. No signs of mental problems and no explanation for his story. Abdullah revealed that he was believing in which craft, practices not so unheard in Malaysia and mostly among the Orang Asli tribes. These people, called the original people, that are believed to be the oldest inhabitants of Malaysia, are perfectly adapted to the jungle which is their home, their source of living, their whole life.

The adventure in the jungle continued with a long expected experience: 600m journey through a canopy walk, at 30m high, above the trees. Instead, I hated it. I was so petrified that my whole body was shaking and I thank to all the saints in heavens when finally got my feed back on the ground, in one piece.

– How was it? Abdullah, who was waiting for me down, close to the river, asked.

– I thought I’ll love it but I hate it.

A wise saying says Be careful what you wish for.

We both jumped in the boat that was waiting for us at the shore. The river was like coffee and milk. We headed straight to the middle of the jungle, where the Orang Asli tribe was living. We were suppose to spent there one hour but when we left we realised we have stayed almost 4. Maybe that guide’s story was after all real: in Taman Negara time stops.

Next: meeting the Orang Asli tribe in Taman Negara

Jordan

Jordan: The desert wonder of Wadi Rum

8 December 2018 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

Have you ever slept in the desert? This is a question I wished one day to answer Yes.

From all the movies, stories, documentaries, the Geography classes, the desktop wallpapers, the desert seemed a place of wonders. And as we left Petra in the afternoon, blown away by this place, taking a one last glance from the top, to the immense canyon, I was finally living that very day.

We drove through arid places, where rocks were more often seen than any kind of vegetation. Close by a railway that seemed it was coming from nowhere and going everywhere, shaping its way through the dust. I was sleepy after that intense hike in the heat, in Petra, but I refused to close my eyes.

We got to the desert bedouin camp right in time. 30 minutes before the sunset, just perfect for a sunset chaser like me. In that orange light, the small white tents lined up among palm trees look so wild and cosy in the same time. It was an oasis in the middle of the desert. A green spot on a light tan and brick red colored paint.

In a few minutes, my Australian friend and I got our key. We were offered to share a tent together. We weren’t strangers anymore so this was just fine for both. Ten minutes later we were climbing the narrow path of the big cliff next to the camp, going up to the view point. I dropped a few short glances as we were climbing in a hurry. The view was getting better and better to the point of whoaaa when we finally got on top. “The Valley of the Moon”, as Wadi Rum is often called, was right there, beneath our eyes, changing its tones as the sun was preparing to leave us, hiding behind a mountain far away. This looked as any other planet except Earth. The winds were blowing sands among the sharp cliffs raising in the far. It was a 360 view of wonder that had then became one of my favourite beautiful places. We sit there and admire what nature so masterfully created in one of the most breathtaking sunsets I ever lived. Was one of those moments you wish you were stuck forever, beautiful and peaceful, as daylight was turning dark.

We followed the path once again, all the way down, among the small lamps now lighted. Our bedouin hosts, in black thobes, were finishing dinner for us. Goat meat cooked for many hours in a hole in the ground, covered with wood fire. They called us to assist as the feast was brought out, spreading flavours and making us feel starved. It was delicious, accompanied with many other traditional dishers, humus, of course and the dinner ended with many slices of sweet and cold watermelon. We all ate until no other move was possible except talking. We gather all together, the portuguese couple, the American professor, my friend and I, and under a sky full of stars and a shining full mood we talked about everything, from technology, to Jewish history, to religion, to Vietnam war, climate change, English accents around the world, politics and bad leaders and the beautiful country we were in, Jordan. It couldn’t have been better than it already was.

I fell asleep in the tent, feeling a light fresh air breeze blowing over my nose from outside, listening to all that music of the desert, from birds or other creatures I did not know. Sleeping in the desert is pretty cool, I thought, smiling.

I woke up early in the morning, went out the tent in the freshest morning air. The sun was up and a red air balloon was floating on the blue sky. The big parrots in the cage were up too. It seemed as all the birds in the world were up there, still invisible.

A lazy breakfast with freshly baked pita and amazing meze was there to spoil my senses. Soon after, we were up in the jeeps, driving through the sand dunes and cliffs. Were we on Mars? It looked so. At one point we stopped, the entire ground, as far as I could see, was cracked because of the drought in small shapes almost identical. No trace of sand, only limestone shade ground, trodden by heavy rains and dried by too many days in the burning sun. We drove further until we met a herd of camels. I thought how come they were free there, in the middle of the desert but I noticed they had their feet tight close so they could only move on a small distance. They were moving in a perfect row, one following the other, about 10 or more.

The rocks we drove by had all sort of shapes created by the winds. From a wall perfectly straight, used by the bedouins in the old times to communicate through echo, to a huge mushroom shape, columns and great arches. Through these wonders we arrived to the sand dunes. I never thought before that two different shades of sand can stay so close to one another without mixing each other. But I do believe my eyes and that was in front of me. Our guide even joked about how people are coming during the night to put back every small piece of sand back to where it belongs. He gave a funny look to someone asking in surprise “Really?”

My aussie friend and I were now busy climbing the dunes barefoot, up and down our bums, again and again. I felt both pity and pleasure every time my feet were touching the symmetric winding traces in the sand, leaving foot marks behind.

We drove further and I wished this day would never stop. An open space covered with brick red rocks in different shapes was stretching far as if the entire world was Wadi Rum and nothing but. My friend and I we understand each other in a look. In a short distance, behind a rock, there was the most perfect, high and big sand dune. I saw it the second we got there and I was craving to be on top of it. We felt the rest of the group. My friend started running up, putting a hell of an effort into it. I was only walking fast but it felt as if I was on a treadmill, moving in the same spot. “You gotta run fast, like this” I heard. I ran as fast as I could, now it was working, and when I almost lost my breath, I was up. I lay down on top of the dune, next to the long traces let in the sand by maybe a scorpio and listened. First my heart, still beating fast from the effort, then nothing. Perfect silence. We sit there quiet, nothing was there to be said, but so much to admire. And this was my moment in Wadi Rum. I wanted to save this with all my pores and cells, to keep it as a memory and maybe relieve it with eyes shut when at home, while telling my family and friends about how amazing Jordan is.

We left the desert charmed and head to Aqaba, on the shore of the Read Sea and then passed back to Israel. In Eilat I said goodbye to my now new friends from all over the world and took a group photo together. They were going back to Jerusalem and I was staying by the sea for the next 5 days, (since my Egypt visa had been denied), doing snorkeling among colorful corals, making friends of exotic fish and a huge octopus, sunburning my back really bad and eating dates and humus all day long. Well, I did make human friends though, among them an ex trader of ancient jewels from the Tuareg people in Africa who was risking his life to get there and sell the pieces after to rich collectors in Switzerland.

But right there, in Eilat I discovered another world of wonders, the underwater world. New and fascinating. An experience that led me to other ones three months later, in Malaysia and Indonesia.

P.S. My French teacher died today. To him I owe the pleasure of speaking this language that I love and the delight of so many wonderful conversations in France, Austria, Spain, Israel and even the far Indonesia.

Bon voyage, Monsieur.

Jordan

Petra: lost, found and too fascinating

21 October 2018 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

A few days ago, a friend who’s planning a trip to Jordan soon, asked me: Petra, is it truly worth it or it’s more like photoshop?

Years ago I saw for the first time, in some newspaper, an image of the Treasury, the most iconic facade in Petra, with its columns carved into the high cliff. I thought seeing this place is a dream too big for me. Expensive, far away, arab country, not safe and difficult to get to… But I never thought it might be photoshop. Instead I instinctively hoped I could get there one day. Maybe…

Five months ago, one morning in June. I was probably the most excited tourist at the Petra Visitor Centre, the starting point for the visits to the lost city. From our hotel restaurant, in that early morning, I could see the panoramic top view of the sandstone canyon which has been hiding the city of Petra for more than 2000 years. Rounded cliffs of different heights, all gathered together, as far as you can see. No clue of what’s inside.

We followed a dusty large path in a valley, among other groups of tourists, carriages and horses carrying those who didn’t wanna walk. I wanted to step on every centimetre. My brand new walking sandals, bought especially for my first journey in the Middle East, were made for this trip. We started seeing cave tombs carved into the wall stones, perfectly round shaped, what was left of once imposing statues of gods and two huge columns marking the majestic entrance of the city. We followed the path guiding us deeper and deeper inside the canyon. This 1,2 km long gorge is called the Siq.

Its walls of sandstone, high and straight, looked as if they were all polished with sandpaper. A true nature masterpiece, shaped by the floods that sometimes, in spring or winter, are covering this place. In the old times as well as in the present ones, the water continues to take the lives of those accidently caught inside the canyon in a bad time. People are describing these events as torrents of water coming suddenly and silently from the top, pouring down like rivers, out of nowhere, giving no chance to anything that’s breathing down. Besides these, are the earthquakes. In 693 A.D. Petra was hit by a devastating earthquake that destroyed most of its amazing water management system and deep canals built to control the floods, left the city in ruin, forcing large numbers of its inhabitants to flee. And so the city was forgotten for more than 1000 years, until 1812.

The more we walk inside, the more stories I heard about the Nabataeans, the ancient Arab tribe that founded this wonder rock-cut city, once a flourishing caravan centre for the scents of Arabia, the silks of China and the spices of India, at the very crossroads of Arabia, Egypt and Phoenicia. Their commercial skills, knowledge and beliefs, together with the courage they stand up against the brave Greeks and the conqueror Roman Empire are now amazing stories to listen or read about. This enigmatic city, half built, half carved into the mountains, among passages and gorges, continues to amaze the modern world. Not only they were fighting the drought to survive, but recent discoveries brought to light proofs of existing gardens, crops and even a large swimming pull. All these 2000 years ago, in the middle of the desert. Our imagination can’t even reconstruct now the greatness that this place once had.

The deeper we went inside the canyon, the narrow the path was becoming. Looking far up, all what was left to see of the sky was a tight blue line. The sunlight has now found its way down to us. It was midday. Two bedouins were resting in the shade, on a few rocks, listening to a Rihanna song played on a phone. Dressed in jeans and t-shirts, with their head covered with turbans and smokey eyes from kohl makeup, a technique they still use to protect the eyes from the sun light.

As sun rays were now coming down the sandstone walls, the entire place was transforming, changing its color. The light brown walls from before were now turning reddish, with the curved lines in different colors becoming more visible. The reason for the other name of Petra, The Rose City, was now revealing.

It was spectacular. As most of the tourists were already ahead, also my group, I was lucky to catch a few moments when I was all alone, among the walls of the canyon. And it was almost silence. And like that, was perfect.

This natural beauty was only preparing me for the best to come. I entered an area of the path so narrow that the sunlight couldn’t get to. In front it appeared unexpectedly the shape of the iconic image I once saw in a newspaper. Half of the immense facade of the Treasury, while the rest of it was still hidden behind the corner. In a few other steps the narrow path of the canyon ended into an open large space, surrounded by rocks and flooded by sunlight. In the middle, the Treasury was sitting like a king. Was bigger than I expected. The facade with huge columns is impressive, in the middle of what was once the centre of Petra.

Bedouins with dark eyes and colored turbans, riding camels covered with colorful rugs, chariots pulled by beautiful horses, donkeys, marchands selling souvenirs or bedouins style jouleries, tourists posing for photos that will make their friends back home so jealous, others climbing a cliff for an even better photo. I couldn’t decide in which direction to look first. It was another world and with an effort of imagination, if I could exclude the tourists and keep only Petra and the bedouins and camels, I wasn’t in 2018 but hundreds years in the past. This was the best feeling that Petra gave me: of time traveling.

My new Aussie friend and a guy from the group, Australian too, we were on a mission called the Monastery. We turned left, leaving the Treasury behind and we continue straight, following the way in an open valley. This must have once been like a main boulevard. The high straight cliffs around were housing round shaped caves with 2-3 rooms inside, that served as houses for the rich people of Petra, in front was the Amphitheatre, with all 15000 seats carved into stone, a little further the columns of the ancient temple, with pink oleander growing next to. We were asked many times if we want a ride by bedouins with donkeys or camels, but a polite: no thank you very much, convinced even the most insisting ones. We were advised by our guide not to make promises in vain. If you want a ride, take the ride, if not, say it as you too believe it. The bedouins are making a living out of this, they might seem pushy to the more sensitive tourists, but we had no problem.

I couldn’t resist not petting a camel in a group of 5, resting in the shade. I asked someone there for directions. We were on the right way and soon we reached the first steps. They were “only” 800 more. And so it started. It was so hot and dry now, no shade. I had my new red and white keffiyeh tied on my head, by our guide, Wael, in a very Jordanian style. It didn’t seem impossible to replicate, but I would need a few tries for a pretty close result. This people definitely know best how to deal with extreme heat and wearing it felt so good and so local.

On our way we met a few merchants with stalls improvised among the rocks, in tents, with colorful rugs on the ground, selling handmade bedouin jewelry or just water. I bought a regular stone from a little girl with the most beautiful eyes.

The large steps were carved into the stone, going up as a large spiral. Rainbow steps, I called them, because of the many coloured lines in the sandstone. As we were going up following these never ending stairs, the views were fantastic, changing constantly as we could see the canyon beneath from different angles. The more I saw, the more I understood why this place is one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world, but also a nature work of art.

I felt my heart beating like crazy and the sweat running down my face. The people we met, total strangers, were encouraging us now with: you’re close, almost there, totally worth it. Probably we looked like in need of that. We passed by an improvised bar selling cold lemonade, where our guy abandoned us for a cold drink. All I needed was to finally see the Monastery. A few steps more ended in an open plateau and in the right, there it was! Even bigger than the Treasury, or at least it seemed so then, the beautiful Monastery, with huge columns carved into the mountain that make your eyes reach the sky when you try to follow their structure from bottom all the way up to the top, is just astonishing. Now I believed those saying you won’t see Petra unless you see the Monastery and you climb the 800 stairs to get there. Only a few people were around.

Petra, beautiful places, destinations, Jordan

As if 800 steps were not enough, we followed Wael advise and climbed the rock in front of the Monastery. It was one of the best 360 views I was ever blessed to see. The canyon, the Monastery, the deep valleys, the mountains with sharp cliffs, covered in green, contrasting the rose shade of the canyon.

Petra, who’s name comes from the word stone in Greek, truly let me “stoned”.

The lost city, the found city, the rose city, for me the dream city, Petra is now one of my favourite beautiful places. A historic treasure for us all, this place it’s indescribable. I felt like I haven’t seen anything before coming here. It is not so expensive as I once thought, not that far, not at all difficult to get to, people are amazing and I got closer to a culture that is beyond fascination. In Petra, time traveling is possible.

next: My first trip in the desert – Wadi rum

Norway

My best friends in Tromso: 200 reindeers

5 March 2018 My Beautiful Places 1 Comment

I was a passer by in Tromso, Northern Norway, for a few days. People like me come and go, hoping to come back, but never knowing if that place that got so deep into their heart will ever be seen again. We, tourists, travellers or those wanderlust infected, try to see in a blink all we’ve read about on TripAdvisor; we taste the food, try to spell the language, talk to locals, take lots of photos, post them and then talk about how it was with family and friends. But this land actually belongs to them ever since before we existed, before Tromso was a tourist hot spot and a popular hashtag on Instagram, from old times, when no borders were drawn in the North between the regions of Lapland, from Norway to Sweden, Finland and Russia. Back in the days when winters were harsh and snow could reach more than 2m high, the reindeers were already there.

They still live free on the hills of Troms, many of them in herds which are taking care of by the Saami people, the indigenous population in the North. This union lasts for hundreds of years, in perfect harmony with nature, both parts helping each other survive the rough conditions in the Arctic. And a family just like this, with a herd just like that, of 200 reindeers, I was visiting in my last day in Tromso.

For someone like me, coming from a place where reindeers are the fantastic flying creatures in Santa Claus stories, actually seeing them for real is a true excitement. The moment I got off the car and saw a few reindeers behind the fence, on the white vast field covered with snow, among big snowflakes, all I wanted to do was run there and hug every single one of them. But, I hold my breath a bit cause we met our guest first: Lune, a beautiful tall woman, with long red hair, blue eyes like ice, snow white skin and the kindest of smiles. Do you know that type of person that you like instinctively and immediately? That was her. There can’t be a more friendly host. We were invited in the lavvu tent, a very high one made of wood piles and some sort of beige material, with a whole in the top where I could see the big snowflakes coming down to us and disappearing before reaching the fire above. This is specific to Lapland and the people living here for centuries.

We all gathered around the big fire in the middle of the lavvu tent, sitting on wood benches covered with reindeer hides. It was warm and a light scent of wood and smoke made me feel so comfortable. We were told that our mail job for that day was to feed the reindeers, all of the 200 hungry souls outside the door. And since we were going to have a bucket full of food, they will be make an exception and be friendly. In the wild, it’s not gonna happen, they usually run when they meet people but now, during the cold months, the Saami family was protecting them from predators like the links or the sea eagle. The last one usually attacks the small ones by injuring them and than waits patiently a few days until they die. Since during the last years the eagles were protected by the law in Norway, their number has increased and they now represent a main danger for the reindeers. But the worst is climate change. Maybe the most affected areas are those where cold is a vital condition. If we can cope with a few hot days, with an unusual rain fall or with The beast from the East (the recent cold wave that affected most of Europe last week), warm temperatures in the Arctic are fatal for many species. Rain for example was not seen before in those regions, during the winter months. A few days with positive temperatures and rain are followed by icy temperatures and so the ground gets covered by a thick layer of ice that the reindeers in the wild can’t break so they can reach food. So they starve or get too weak to survive the predators.

Maybe one of the most amazing example of how perfect everything is organised in nature is that related to the reindeer’s horns. They grow and fall as a natural process but those belonging to the males, if found in the wild, are picked by the Saamy people while those from females are never taken. They are very easily decomposed and high in calcium. So the female will get back to that place to eat it after she has her calf, this will help her produce milk. Also, other animals like foxes enjoy a good dose of calcium in the harsh conditions in the Arctic, where every source of nutrients is valuable.

And so, with a very good reality check about life in the North I took my bucket full of food and entered the paddock. I couldn’t make more than one step cause 5 reindeers surrounded me, each of them trying to get his head first in the bucket and keep it as long as he could there, enjoying his meal. While one was eating another one was coming from his side and using his horns was telling him that he had enough and was time to leave the bucket for the next one. I wanted to get in the middle of the heard, 20m away so I hold the bucket up and walked as fast as I could. Once there, I was surrounded by reindeers, some big, some smaller, some brown, others almost white, some with small horns, other with big large horns and some even with only one horn, looking quite funny. It’s true, in the first minutes, seeing some of the males with large horns coming towards me fast or starting to hit others with the horns I was a bit afraid. But they are the cutest and harmless creatures. While they were eating I got the chance to touch them and feel how thick and soft in the same time is their fur, the horns that look just like bones and their fluffy noses, breathing with noise every time I got close to them. I think I spent around two hours with them. Since we were told to try to feed the shy ones too, I accepted the challenge to get the bucket to the shyest reindeer of the heard, the one that ran every time someone was getting 3 m close. I moved slowly, closer and closer, stood still when he looked ready to run again and let him come. Finally I won his trust and he came to eat.

It was a beautiful place, a large field surrounded by the forest, mountains and hills, nearby a fiord, all was white and it was still snowing. The sky was turning pink as 1pm o’clock was announcing sunset. I tried the lasso and the 5th try was a success. I took a short reindeer sled ride and I was happy I choose the short option so I could spend more time feeding 4 buckets to the reindeers.

I could have stayed there another 2 hours when lunch was served: freshly reindeer stew, a traditional meal served at weddings by the Saami. Was very good but it didn’t felt right that after playing with the reindeers I was now eating one of them.

We gathered once again around the fire, in the lavvu tent. Now it was snowing so heavily outside that I couldn’t see a thing. Lone, our host, told us stories about the history and culture of its people, about their traditional clothes full of motifs, each of them having a specific signification like weather the man or woman were married, a signal for others to keep the hands off. She showed us the traditional Saami shoes, made of reindeer or seal skin, with fur on the bottom used in order to prevent slippage. We’ve learned craftsmen secrets like how to remove the hair from the reindeer skin with the help of the water from a river. It was a wonderful lesson about the Saami culture, no better place for that. We ended the day singing yoiks, traditional songs of the population in the North. Those sounds are so out of this world that during the middle age people who were heard singing them were accused of witchcraft and burned alive.

I left the farm happy. It was the heaviest snow I ever saw falling in my entire life, in 1 minute outside the tent I was all white, covered in snow. But that’s how it should be there in the Arctic and that’s what make the reindeers happy.

Norway

Husky sledding in Tromso: becoming a musher

24 February 2018 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

If you have never tried husky sledding before, you might think it’s either a piece of cake or some risk of breaking a few bones. Still, doing something new, for the first time, feels damn good and getting new skills is even better. You never know what kind of rides life might be offering you. So here’s how I added a new “talent” to my CV: being a musher (driver of a dog sled):

It was 10am. My second day in Tromso, Northern Norway, right there in the Arctic. I was already confronting the dark icy morning, rushing to the next new amazing experience in the North: husky sledding. Yeiii! In spite of the freezing temperatures, I was so very sleepy. Traveling for me is equal with sleep deprivation. This is never my intention but somehow I’m really good at doing and seeing a lot but terrible at getting enough sleep. The night before, after 7 hours of northern lights hunting, I came back to my room at 2am. I was too exited to sleep after gazing the breathtaking aurora and having such a unique experience. Somehow, zombie as I was, I got just in time for the tour that was suppose to take us away from the city, to meet the 200 huskies and have a ride as seen in movies!

After a 30 minutes ride through winter wonderland, white landscapes and fiords, there we were at our destination! I could immediately hear the huskies barking the moment we got off the bus. We were offered warm suits, which benefits I was lucky to test already the night before, so a got myself into a red one, picked really fast since I didn’t wanna end up with a blue one. We were told that the training will start outside and we will be taught how to handle the sleigh, the dogs, the speed and the breaks. Wait! What? I was suppose to share the sleigh with 6 dogs with someone who was doing this also for the first time, just like me? Oh, boy! I was presuming experienced mushers will guide us… I got even more worried after seeing how this is done, the do’s and don’ts: How to always use the breaks, one of the 2 types (stronger and weaker) while standing in the back of the sleigh, or, if you are the person that seats down, the anchor, the strongest break available, which was quite heavy and had to be carefully hold in your lap. Otherwise the dogs just run as if this was their biggest purpose in life and you’ll loose them and the sleigh, or you might even fall of. What to do if the dogs will start fighting each other or they get their feet tied up in the ropes, changing places in the wrong way. How to help them pushing the sleigh when needed, how to keep enough distance from the sleigh in front of you to avoid having the dogs injured. And how to pay attention to your phone since the day before someone just lost his in the snow, during the ride. What a ride poor thing must have had!

And so we went to the place where the sleighs and huskies were waiting for us while I was thinking “Why have’t I read more about this before paying the 170 euro?” It was a huge noise, every single husky was barking, looking really excited to start the run. I was welcomed by two white bleu eyed young females, one of them jumped straight on me, with her pows on my chest, hugging me for a few minutes and making my heart melt.

We played with the huskies for minutes and then my ride partner and I found our sleigh and our 5 beautiful and big mouth huskies. And there we were, starting our ride through the forest, one sleigh after another, in line.

Our start was a little slower since one of our two beautiful leading alpha dogs kept stopping to take…well… a piss. We was having a huge dog dilemma: to run or to pee? So he decided to do both in the same time: running on 3 legs with one raised up in biological purposes. It was hilarious to watch him and the other dogs quite angry with him for stopping them too. But when a dog has to go, the dog has to go! Happily the 3 stops were enough for him to solve the problem and he finally started running like a champ. What you don’t see in movies with husky sledding is that they even poop while running. This just adds more fun to the whole experience.

We crossed small wooden bridges build on frozen rivers, valleys with mountains, got close enough so I could see the lake there, then through the forest covered with snow. All was white! And all was beautiful!

If the first minutes I spent them all on efforts to avoid falling off, at our first stop I wanted to change positions with my partner on the sleigh, so I could be the one leading it and the dogs, to be for the first time in my life a musher. And I did it perfectly. I used the breaks when needed, used my body weight in curves, push the sleigh to help the dogs sometimes. It was fantastic, feeling the cold wind on my face while standing on a sleigh covered with reindeer hides. I definitely prefer this instead of sitting. We were laughing, joking, admiring the views and fully enjoying a new experience together with to the cutest huskies, right there, in the Arctic.