On the Road to Djibouti

As outfitters are looking to cut costs, self-guided bike trips are becoming the norm. Last week, I received a press release from uber-sybaritic bike touring company, Butterfield & Robinson, stating that they are now offering self-guided bike trips. Yes, the company that built its reputation on biking to 14th-century chateaus in Loire Valley and then dining on a gluttonous five course meal with their small groups is now offering self-guided bike trips. Though it seems foolish to pay B&R prices for a trip where they don’t cater to your every whim. A better option is the more affordable Bike Tours Direct, which offers ten self-guided trips to Europe this summer, including jaunts into France’s Loire Valley and along the Danube River in Austria.
There are two types of travelers to Iceland, ones like me who spend the bulk of their time in Reykjavik taking day trips to see the countryside and others who simply stay in small guesthouses in the more remote areas of the island. Obviously, if you can do the latter, you’ll be treated to a far more authentic experience with majestic vistas of glaciers, volcanoes, and the coastline around every bend. I needed to be in Reykjavik for a travel writers’ conference, but even I had the chance to check out three incredible sites thanks to the daylong Golden Circle tour with Reykjavik Excursions. First stop was Thingvellir (Þingvellir) National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site where the tectonic plates of Europe and North America meet. You walk on a narrow trail dwarfed by the rocky walls. Next stop was the surging waters of the Gulfoss Waterfalls, cascading down the tiers of rock. You take a short hike to the lip of waterfalls, sprayed by the cool water. Last stop was Geysir, Iceland’s version of Yellowstone where hot pools churn and bubble and the Strokkur geyser erupts every 4 to 5 minutes. Coupled with a trip to the Blue Lagoon, a whalewatching/puffin tour, even the opportunity to hike on a glacier, you can get a good taste of Iceland while spending your nights in Reykjavik.
As the world descends on South Africa for the World Cup this week and the safari season starts to get into full swing, we report some sad news from the country. David Mabunda, chief executive officer for South African National Parks, notes that rhinos are currently under siege from poachers. South Africa lost 122 rhinos to poaching in 2009 and is already on track to surpass that number this year. The horns are highly sought after in Asia for medicinal purposes and are thus worth far more than their weight in gold. So far, 25 poachers have been caught, primarily in Kruger. Responding to the increase in poaching, South Africa has set up a Wildlife Crime Reaction Unit, utilizing many of the country’s top anti-poaching experts.
If you ask my kids, ages 14 and 12, what their favorite vacations were, they’d no doubt say Alaska, British Colombia, Israel, Paris, Bryce, Zion, and Acadia National Parks, and, of course, New York. Even though we’ve been to over a dozen all-inclusive resorts in the Caribbean and Mexico over the years, all except our last one at the Riu Ocho Rios in Jamaica are quickly forgettable. They all featured wonderful beaches and decent food until the 3rd day, when you become tired of seeing the same entrees. But the reason they quickly forget this type of vacation is that it never really gets to the depth necessary to touch them. There were no adventures, no immersion into the local culture, be it food, music or history, no mishaps to look back and laugh about. It was all very pleasant, a warm retreat from the cold winter temps in Boston. How can staying at one hotel all week possibly compare to being surrounded by whales, otters, bald eagles, and sea lions on a zodiac off Sitka? Or listening to music late at night at one of the jazz joints in Paris? Or grabbing plates of hummus and foul with locals in Jaffa? Or seeing where King Henry VIII married his sixth wife at Hampton Court Palace? Or hiking with those odd-shaped hoodoos or an exhilarating cliff walk in Bryce and Zion? Or grabbing a hot pastrami on rye at Katz’s Deli and then going outside to see Shepard Fairey paint his most recent mural on Houston Street? These things my kids remember. All those all-inclusive beaches blur into one big warm embrace, nothing more.