the burgs

Our next stop on the South African tour was the Drakensburg area. This is an area with lots of mountains, gorges, and hiking. We had heard lots of good things about a hostel/lodge called the Inkosana, and decided that a nice place with free shuttles to the trailheads was the way forward for us. They were out of dorm beds, so sadly we had to stay two nights in our very own hut! A comfy bed, tables to spread out on and the coolest outdoor shower I have ever seen. It was bliss. There was a swimming pool and a kitchen where they asked you not to do your own dishes. We enjoyed the views from the hotel and hiked to a few waterfalls, keeping an eye out for baboons. We met a really fun German couple too which made meals, hiking, and UNO much more fun.

The next, and final stop was Johannesburg. I was downright scared of the place. Our Lonely Planet book went on and on about safety and where not to go in the city. I thought for sure I was going to be robbed and killed the moment I set foot outside of our gated, electrified and razor-wired hostel. It was overwhelming to even think about getting around and seeing anything, so I was ready to hide out and keep reading the great Tom Wolfe book I traded for at the Spot in Port Shepstone.

Things really turned around for us though when we got in touch with the Bulgers, friends of my cousin Sara's back home. They agreed to take us in and show us around the city and their ministries in the city for two nights before we flew out. Talk about a refresher. We were treated like royalty in their home. Great, American food, comfy beds, laundry and email time. All the things a weary traveler needs. Above and beyond that though, they showed us the city and gave us a meaningful look at what South Africa really faces.

First we jumped in the landcruiser to visit Cherie's afterschool program in an informal settlement (slum). We were able to see all the components of the program, hear about the progress the program was making with the kids and their schooling, and the most fun part, meet some cute kids! I heard stories that were so sad about where these little guys were coming from, and it broke my heart. It was a joy to see how they persevere and to spend a few hours reading to them, playing rock games on the concrete, and talking with them.

The next morning we were able to visit the AIDS hospice that Cherie goes to twice a week. I had a lot of ideas about how the AIDS pandemic was affecting the communities here, but I had no idea that those numbers were real people with children and stories and faces. Its just something I couldn't understand until I met it. We started by meeting with a group of ladies that are all HIV positive and struggling with one infection or another. Their families, unable to care for them, have allowed them to be admitted to this hospice run by the Catholic Charities. I was taken aback meeting these ladies and seeing the physical condition that they were in. So weak, and so thin. They were just hanging out, watching TV when we arrived. We tried to spice things up a bit with some UNO cards that Cherie brings with her. They seemed to enjoy that, but tired easily. After meeting those precious women, we went over to the wing where people closer to the ends of their lives stay. I just couldn't believe it. We visited three women who told us about their children and families that they wanted to get back to from behind thin faces, worn almost to nothing from the virus. One woman shook so badly that she could hardly speak. All were so thin and weak. One woman, affected by TB, whose spirit and determination to get well was remarkable, had gone through 6 roommates already in the month she had been there. The latest had passed away that morning, and her bed was taken up by another during our stay that afternoon. I could barely keep it together, but forced myself to in order to encourage the women and try to brighten their day with a smile. The official figures tell us that 20% of the population in South Africa is HIV positive. One med student we met who was working in a hospital told us that doctors he works with believe it is more like 80%. I was left with a horrible feeling that hasn't quite gone away yet. I have never seen such tragedy and am so thankful for people like Cherie who try to brighten the last days of these people whose lives who are otherwise forgotten by everyone except the nurses and staff who work at the hospice. They will always be in my prayers.

After the hospice we had lunch and then set out for Soweto, the largest township in South Africa. This place has a lot of significance in South African History. Both Nobel prize winners Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela lived here just a block away from each other. Riots, which began there in 1979 and continued through the 80's were a catalyst to the end of Apartheid by bringing international attention to the struggles there. We visited the museum dedicated to the student demonstrations that started the riots in 1979. It was so interesting to finally see a township and begin to understand more of the history that had created such a unique place. I was thankful to have David and Cherie to take me there and enable a more realistic understanding for me.

We left Johannesburg wondering further about how such contrast and segregation can exist in a country. The people have come so far in the 12 years since the end of Apartheid, but have so much left to deal with. It feels like the dust is still settling. I am glad that we went to South Africa. My sense of fear, the incredible beauty and the political realities there made the experience tingly and exciting. I have a deep respect for the people and will always hope and pray for things to get better for them. The rainbow country is indeed a colorful and complicated place.

Next stop, Nairobi, Kenya.

wild coast

After hangin with all the surfers and the hostel babes I was getting anxious to see some of South Africa itself. Taking the Baz Bus automatically put us into a buffet style bubble of tourism. We ran across the same people, stayed at the endorsed hostels and visited all the same towns as every other twenty something tourist in the country. How could I get out of this hip black hole and see something authentic? Far as I can tell, its just not possible unless you rent a car or take the greyhound service. Neither of those options worked for us. I did find a way to improve the Baz Bus journeys though. I took to sitting in the front seat with the driver. Uncool? Perhaps. Sitting up there though meant I could see the countryside. And ignore all the people in the rest of the bus. I could almost imagine that I was riding in the front of some truck that was carrying cattle that I had hitched a ride with. (Thats what I wanted to do, but sources say that is less than 'safe'.)

My favortie driving day took us through the Transkei. This is an area of country where the blacks were forced to relocate during Apartheid. The area was not suitable for so many people to live on, but there they were, making the best of it. Things haven't really changed much geographically since Apartheid ended. The area was dotted with huts, fields and small, non-european, chaotic, African cities. You could see school kids walking across large expanses of land, their too-large backpacks bouncing along atop skinny legs. A group of boys were stripping their school sweaters off and pilling them on the sidelines of the football games they were sorting teams to play. Not a vacation home in sight. All day I rode alongside the driver, asking questions and assisting him with his passenger sorting duties at stops. It was fun and I decided to ride up there whenever I could.

One stop along the wild coast was at Cintsa. This was a tiny vacation town centered around a lagoon that was filled by the tides of the sea. The buildings were nestled into the trees and fun chairs were hidden into little clearings on the hostel property. It was so refreshing to be in a place that the party lovers didn't stop at and quiet relaxation and canoe paddling were encouraged. We wanted to stay longer, but the Baz Bus schedule made us have to move on to the next stop - Port Shepstone.

This was a place that I was looking forward to since before leaving for the trip. A small beachfront hostel, south of Durbin that was quiet and let you use their surfboards for free. We ended up staying three nights there and enjoyed some beach time and lots of reading time. The owners of the Spot Backpackers were really great. They would take us into town for whatever we wanted and we all piled into their truck for a trip up to the nearby Oribi gorge. The guys all did this bungy jumping, gorge swing thing, while Melissa and I just enjoyed the view and saved our $100 for another day.

The surfing was interesting here. I went out twice with the bartender, but did more paddling and ducking waves than surfing. I didn't even attempt to catch a wave because it was the largest surf I had ever been in and I was scared for my life. I got a little angry at the dude because he left me out there to catch some of these monsters for himself and I had to hang out and dive really deep to escape terrible wipeouts before getting swept down shore and trying to figure out how to get out of the water without being smashed on rocks. Lots of prayer happening just then. I like to think I am better off because of the experience. I saw a huge sea turtle come right up next to me though. That was nice.

After Port Shepstone, we stopped over in Durbin. Not much to report from there, except for an incredible indian dinner where I got my favorite dish, paneer in butter masala curry. They even had garlic naan, for crying out loud. We went around the city for the day, traveling without bags or cameras to avoid being mugged. After our one day, which included checking out the beach and looking longingly at the tidy, small surf, we said goodbye to the Indian Ocean and headed inland.

catch a wave and you'll be..

We traveled a few more hours on the Baz Bus the next morning from Paradise and the ostrich farm to Plettenburg Bay. It was our only stop on the Garden Route, a famous stretch of coastline populated by European vacation towns. It was the longest uninterupted beach I have ever seen. We took full advantage of it, laying out in our swimsuits and reading books. I rented a surfboard our second day and went searching for some waves that I could work with. We tried one beach, then another until I was assured by the lifeguard that the waves at the big beach would be better in a couple hours. In the meantime I chatted with him and he asked to borrow my board for a while. I gladly let him there being no way I was going out in the waves as they were. One 8-foot monster, crashing in 2 feet of water and carrying buckets of sand. It looked like one big neckbrace to me. He took the board out and I watched him paddle around for a while and try to catch the odd wave that was breaking out past the monster break. He came back a half hour later with blood streaming down his face and onto my board. He had gotten above the submerged board and it shot out of the water taking a bit of his scalp with it. He ran back to his booth and cleaned himself up. I went over later to see if he was okay and he said he couldn’t call the boss and go get stitches because he wasn’t supposed to be surfing on the job anyway (couple sandwiches short). The waves were looking a little better by then as the tide came in, so I asked him if there were any other dangers I should know about, besides my own board. He said, “Oh, just those two rip currents there and there that will take you out 300 meters, and the sharks that you can see right past the big break where the sand drops away. Just look down and maybe you can see a few hammerheads. Watch out for jellies too.” Awesome.

I went back to my towel, assured that they would watch out for me and pondered the idea of going out. Eventually as the waves improved more it seemed alright, but maybe I would stay inside the monster break… I went out and caught some mostly lame waves for a couple of hours. Despite the conditions, it was great to be back in the water and be surfing in the INDIAN OCEAN. Sweet. I was close to the monster break, trying to get a bigger wave and as I came up out of some whitewater and wiped my eyes off, I saw a fin, a body and a tail surfing inside the wave right in front of me! I gasped and saw my life flash before my eyes and imagined how the teeth would feel in my leg. Then I recognized the long round nose and realized it was a dolphin! It was so exciting. A real dolphin, surfing right in front of me. That made it all worth it.

After two nights we hopped the bus again and headed to the legendary Jeffery’s Bay, home of the world’s best wave. I was giddy as we drove in the dark through town to our beachfront hostel. I was imagining the part in Endless Summer when they arrived in the very same place and enjoyed the best day of surfing in their entire lives.

We should have known better about the hostel we were staying at. 'Island Vibe.' Party central. Surfers and their groupies drinking large blue bowls of liquor with toy fish floating in them. Our first night we ignored all the noise in the bar and went to bed, but the second night we were gifted with the opportunity to switch rooms and stay right next to the bar. I tried to stay up late and party with the kids to delay trying to sleep with the boom boom boom of the club hitz mix playing until 5am, but eventually got tired anyway and wanted to get up early the next morning to surf - the real reason for coming here. I am sorry to report that I only went out once, and was not woman enough to surf 'Supertubes', but I did have a great morning out in the water. It was warm and the sky was a mix of stormy clouds and bright sunrise. There was even a rainbow over the land visible from where I was floating. The waves were incredible and I was loving it. I went out with a lovely german girl that was about at my skill level, so I didn't have to go alone. I walked the entire length of the beach (two hours) and saw so many great waves and guys out there taking advantage of them. Maybe a return visit could be in order when I am a good enough surfer to actually enjoy those big, perfect breaks. A fun stop for me.

ride um

The drive to Oudtshoorn was very therapeutic. Being away from the walls and electric fences of Capetown and close to green hills with coastal views was a relief. I began to get really excited to see South Africa. We had booked ourselves at a hostel called Paradise. To get there the Baz Bus dropped us off at the McDonalds parking lot and the hostel sent a shuttle down to fetch us. We drove from there through more beautiful countryside and up a pass into the mountains. Along the roadside, we saw a baboon! I had just heard a story from our new British friend Pill about how a boy was disembowled just the other day by a baboon out on the Cape Penninsula. That was after she went out on a tour and the baboons at the same place got into their van and stole a lot of food from them. Glad to know that they keep taking tourists to the same spot. Seems like the right thing to do.

After an hour of green mountain sides and light brown pastures we were in Oudtshoorn, which means ostrich. I looked up out my window and there they were! Fields and fields full of them! I laughed at their skinny legs, big, big fluffy feathered bodies and those long flexi necks with teeny tiny heads. They were a lot bigger than I expected; taller and their bodies even more disproportionate than they seem in pictures. Unfortunate beasts, they are. We pulled into Paradise and the owners showed us around the place. We had heard that it lived up to its namesake, and discovered for ourselves when we saw the bunk beds with reading lights. Wide, comfy beds with fluffy down comforters. I think they were nicer than my bed at home! May seem trivial to you, but for me it was worthy of celebration (that being getting into bed at 9:30 and reading for hours before actually falling asleep.) We enjoyed the other amenities like a tiny swimming pool, plenty of sofas, and towels.

The next day we rented mountain bikes. It was part of a tour, of course, and they drove us to the top of swartburg pass and let us ride down. The views were spectacular! We saw green patchwork hills that seemed to go on forever, although I knew that the Indian Ocean We could see farmer’s fields and dutch style barns along the way. I saw a farmer with his shovel stop digging and put his hands on his hips and look out at his rows. From under his red baseball cap he seemed to be enjoying the view as much as I was. We also saw a woman carrying a watermelon on her head, walking down the road. That reminded me that I wasn’t in Europe, I was in Africa.

The riding wasn’t too difficult at first. It didn’t help though once we were down on the flats that it was around 95 degrees and a strong wind was blowing uphill. It felt sort of like riding into a giant hairdryer. Which is why stopping at the dutch tea house was so wonderful. It was this old estate founded by early Afrikaners that was set in a beautiful valley with lots of green grass, a stream, a cute white house and lots of flowers. The most important element though, was the swimming pool. The tour group always sends their people in there for lunch in exchange for free swimming. It was cold and clear and surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas. HEAVEN. I was so hot, and it was so wonderfully cold. We stayed for three hours sunning, swimming and eating. We tore ourselves away because we had another 10 kilometers to ride before reaching the farm.

We rode on through a stronger, hotter wind to the Oudtshoorn Ostrich Farm. For the price of a latte you can get a short tour, learn ostrich anatomy and yes, you guessed it, ride the ostrich. We toured with these two Austrian guys that we had rode down the pass with, then met up with at the pool. We approached the ostrich pen with dust at our heels and our eyes narrowed into slits, preparing ourselves for the beasts. Honestly, I had not yet decided if I would ride one. They had one unfortunate specimine trapped in this wood harness so that we could get on and try it out. I saw Melissa and the two boys climb up there one at a time and exploded into fits of laughter. It was hilarious to see them on top of those skinny legs and behind that teeny tiny head. I hopped on too and imagined the feeling of setting off into the sunset atop one of these birds.

The guys clambered up the fence and with the help of the farm hands jumped onto the bird’s back, put the wings over the legs and held on to the base of the wing while leaning way back. They took the cloth bag off from the birds head (they are so dumb that if they can’t see you, they think we can’t seem them and don’t get scared) and they were off! I almost fell off the wood seats it was so funny. They each lasted about 8 seconds as the birds darted and ran around. Melissa was up next and put on a fine show of it. She stayed on for a while before falling into the arms of the farm hand who was spotting. The video is great because you can hear Melissa laughing and screaming from on top of the creature and me laughing and trying to hold the camera still. My ride was terrific. The thing was so fast and headed us straight for the fence before darting away at the last minute. I was cracking up while trying to hold onto the wings and keep my balance. I felt generally really bad for the birds, carrying around the heavy arses of scores of tourists each and every day. I felt better knowing that their brains are the size of marbles and they probably don’t remember what happened 1 minute later. The experience was completely worth a Vivace tall two percent anyday.

That evening we ate ostrich steak barbequed at Paradise. Seemed a fitting end to our time in the valley. It was good.

Capetown

I apologize for having kept you waiting for a blog entry for three whole weeks. That is if there are still any readers left to apologize to. South Africa has been a whirlwind of hostels, towns, buses and beaches. I’ve been really busy. Lots of decisions to make. ‘Should we stay in this beach town, or move to the next?’ Should we eat curry for lunch or for dinner?’ ‘Should I turn over on my beach towel yet or not?’

The feeling of continents and countries coming and going through my life has sort of settled in. Can it feel normal to be traveling? We left Buenos Aires after a refreshing stay with our friends and with one last box of dulce de leche chocolates. We lamented the loss of our new friend, South America. I wished that Argentina could come with us on the trip, since it was so enjoyable. We boarded the Malasyian Airlines, 747-ReallyBig plane with the most diverse group of people I had seen in two months. 60 of which, luckily, were 19 year old Argentinian rugby players, off to South Africa for a two week tournament tour. They proceeded to test their seat-backs and trayy tables, ask for endless cokes, crowd around each others video game screens and whoop their driving skills and whistle at the flight attendant for the duration of the flight. So in a way, Argentina did come with us.

Flying into Capetown afforded us great views of Table Mountain, the oceans and sprawling township shacks right up to the runway. Quite an introduction to a country that I have found to be heaving with contrast, activity and youthful fervor. So much has happened here in the last 30 years, and the dust is still settling. Capetown was immediately beautiful to me. The city wrapping around the foot of Table Mountain seemed to be clinging on as to not fall into the sea. We were dropped at the hostel via shuttle bus and the trail of tourism hasn’t slowed.

In South Africa, you can’t just grab a bus and run off to see something you read about in your Lonely Planet book. Its all about the tours. Want to see the coast? We’ll book you a tour, only $40. Want to see the prision where Nelson Mandela and other important political prisioners were held? No problem, the shuttle comes at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and lunch is included in your package! I am a total hater of tours in general, but there were few other options. I suppose that you could just make your way through the area and see things on your own, but there is this fear thing. I will admit that I was a little fearful before arriving of the reputation South African cities have in regards to crime. That was quickly compounded by nearly each local I met telling me it wasn’t safe to walk alone, to watch my bag, to not carry valuables, and to take taxis everywhere I went. I wasn’t about to take my chances after that and we jumped on the tour wagon.

We headed out the next morning to Robben Island. That’s the prison I mentioned where Mandela spent 8 of his 25 years in prison. It was a fascinating tour. The guide was a former prisoner and he walked us through the facility, showed us Mandela’s cell and told us about the racism that existed in the prison for the black, colored and indian prisoners. For me the most interesting part of the tour was not the buildings or the island or the boat trip over from the city, but the emotions that the guides shared with us as they spoke about South Africa. The stories they told about the political prisioners that were there, what they had spoken out for, and where South Africa is now were really inspiring. I felt like my love for democracy is just a formality in comparision to what the people living here have, in light of what they they have been through. They have a taken a place full of century old prejudice and ingrained separation and started a nation where, maybe, very different people groups can live together under one government. The history I have read about this place has really come alive.

Our next tourist stop was Table Mountain itself. We rode a fancy revolving cable car to the top of it and looked out from platforms for 360 degree views of Capetown and the Cape Penninsula. It was incredible! Such a big, flat mountain, right there at the end of the continent and in the middle of a city. We hiked around and enjoyed the views for a few hours. Its always great to see a new city from above to really understand what you are dealing with down there at street level. We hit up a local beach, followed a walking tour of the city center and checked out Bo-Kaap, a literally colorful neighborhood at the upper edge of town.

We also went to church on Sunday. We found a small Presbyterian church and decided to take our chances with the old ladies filing in for the 10am service. It was very similar to what I know from home, minus the english accents and weird white South African national hymns. There were the same prayers, order of events and some familiar songs. We even participated in tea in the hall after the service. We met a few nice people there and I enjoyed being in a church again. It was a fun experience.

We finished up the day around town and prepared ourselves for leaving Capetown in the morning. The Baz Bus was coming to pick us up. The Baz Bus is this backpacker service that picks you up and drops you off at different hostels all along the coast of South Africa. You buy a ticket for a couple weeks, then book pick-ups as you go. It really couldn't have been easier. The social dynamics on the other hand created a love-hate relationship between me and the Baz. I'll have to get into that later. We were ready the next morning to say goodbye to our first South African city and head for the small town of Oudtshoorn, the ostrich capital of the world.

stay with me

I know, I know, its been a while. My finger tips are itching to tell you about all that I have seen here in South Africa. Alas, I must wait a little longer. Hopefully I can write and write in a couple days when I reach Nairobi. If I do that here in South Africa, I won't be able to afford a bed, and no one wants that.

The short of it is that I have been safe and sound. I have learned a lot about a very complicated country and have had a lot of fun exploring the beaches, mountains and towns. Three weeks traveling by bus along the coast. Good times. So stay tuned and prepare yourself for a very long set of entries - as soon as I can make that happen.

buenos aires

The big city has treated Melissa and I very well. Its been a great week in a city that looks half European, half industrial and half South American. I know thats three halves, but its a large city. I think that I will let the photos do the talking this time. Not because there is nothing to say about Buenos Aires, but because a play by play of us doing laundry, seeing movies and cooking our own food is much more interesting for me than it would be for you.

I can provide a few other sensory tidbits for you. The city is really big and noisy. A friend described it as a dirtier version of New York. Others described it as a cheaper version of Paris. There are some iron balconies and 6-story, rounded corner buildings, but beyond that I find it difficult to see the resemblance. I am not sure why, but there is garbage everywhere. Their recycling system may have something to do with it. There are folks who dig through the garbage at night and pull out things they can sell to the recycling plant, then leave the rest scattered about. Aside from the garbage problem and the buses sounding like rubber dog toys, squeaking down the roadway with holes in their shocks, the city is nice. There are cobbled alleys, large plazas, a terrific subway and lots of trees. You can find a sidewalk cafe with hot, yummy empanadas, nice ice cream or cafe y meida lunas (coffee and mini croissants) just about on every block. There is tango in the streets, classic guitar on the Subte platform and people everywhere at all hours of the day and night. It´s fun place to be.

Oh, and I forgot to mention the shopping. At home, shopping is about 37th on my list of favorite activities. Here, It would rate at about 4th. Partially because it is so cheap, but mostly because of their style. Really cute, creative, colorful clothing and shoes. We found out about this clothing designer sale that happens every saturday in the posh, trendy neighborhood of Palermo. They sell all their samples and extras for next to nothing. We went and there was so much cute clothing, I couldn´t begin to pick anything out. And the designers are just sitting there next to their racks, free for the talking to. It was fun. I bought a skirt and some tank tops and now feel much better about being in the city. Those zip off shorts just won´t do when you want to go out to the tango bar and watch dancers while you sip Argentinenian wine.

A good example of the architecture in the city center. Some great examples of Spanish and French styles in the late 1800´s.


Caminito. The famous pedestrian street where the tango started in the neighborhoodhood of La Boca. Now it is a tourist trap with more souvenir shops and staged photo opportunities than real people. The colorful buildings came from the area being built up with leftover ship wood, then painted with extra ship paint, in any color available. Very fun spot.


A tango dancer in La Boca. Well, she was a photo model really, but I saw other dancers in the city and she looks just like one of them.

More La Boca pride. There is a lot of neighborhood rivalry in Buenos Aires. These two playing soccer were the only real people I saw in La Boca.

The Recoletta cemetery. A small city of sorts for the most wealthy families in Buenos Aires. Families build small temple-shrines of sorts for themselves. Marble, granite and Corinthian columns seemed to be popular. A few were air conditioned and had house plants. Others like this one were run down and featured piles of coffins stacked down into the basements. Creeptastic for sure.

Evitia´s family grave. Still not sure who she was, since I have not seen the movie or read my Argentinean history books.. Pathetic of me, I know, but at least I knew to take a photo of her grave. The tour groups may have tipped me off, but I intend to find out why she was beloved and to this day has fresh flowers in her doorway everyday of the year.

We took a tour of the Colon Theater, the city´s main venue for opera, ballet and symphony. We saw the nearly acoustically perfect main hall from the presidential seats, saw the costume shops, the sets workshop, and I saw three Stradivarius violins in the museum cases. Thanks to UPC pastor Earl Palmer I knew that those were a special treat to see.

Here are our friends Netta and Guillermo. We met them at a restaurant near the farm in Mendoza. They run a philosophy school in Buenos Aires and are the nicest people ever. We have stayed with them for the last half week in the city. They even took us out to their family´s county home for swimming, cooking and relaxing. Their city house is an awesome colonial in the city. Tall ceilings, fancy plaster rosettes and molding, shuttered doorways and an enclosed patio. Its been so nice to stay with them. They have recommended good food, ice cream shops and activities and welcomed us to their dinner table, their internet, and their home.

In La Plata, a city near Buenos Aires, we went to a huge cathedral. It was very impressive and very European. Guillermo knew all the history about it and it was very interesting to see. We even caught the end of mass. It was nice to be in a church during a service again. I miss UPC and wish that it was easier to find churches to go to while traveling.

I am sad to leave South America, spanish and dulce de leche. Its been a fast and full two months. Now that my journey is a quarter of the way through, I realize how fast the whole thing will probably go. I am sad to think that it will come to an end someday, but feel thankful that there are so many great things left on the itinerary.

Tonight I fly to Africa. I say that so nonchalantly because I haven´t really given it a ton of thought. Too busy trying to navigate Buenos Aires and get my fill of steak and ice cream. Hopefully the culture shock will be made mostly of excitment and not too overwhelming. I have 8 hours on the plane to process before getting there - I am sure that will be enough. Bring on the continents!