Tyres and Teeth

A garage in Costa Rica

I could not celebrate Costa Rica week here on Taraji Blue withour re-sharing this blog post. First written and shared back in May 2011 it’s a tale of pure stupidity, naivety and sheer determination… and it is one of my favourites…

Well I never knew there was any such place where one could have their tyres repaired and their teeth whitened in Costa Rica – less so did I ever imagine we’d end up there! This is a tale of jeopardy, bad luck and pure stupidity.

Lets start with the stupidity….in one of the most remote places in Costa Rica,  30k from the nearest village, we parked our car for three nights whilst we took a boat to Tortuguero and promptly but accidentally left the lights on. On our return the battery was inevitably dead. Thus followed 2 hours of phone calls and negotiation with local farm workers and coach drivers to procure the necessary battery, spanner and jump leads.  We tried the jump leads first, but the battery was too dead to respond, we so watched as the last tourists departed the car park and drove off into the distance. In very broken Spanish, and using a free Daily Mail Spanish guide, we half explained our predicament to locals with lots of pointing, arm waving, noise mimickery and gesticulation. This, and the charms of a local woman, persuaded one begrudged boyfriend to return to his boat and lend us his battery to trick the car into starting. With lots of pouting and huffing, we got the battery started, showering praise, money and thanks on the locals who helped.

Now for the bad luck…Almost three hours later we were well on our way, daring not to stop, switch the engine off or use air con for fear of draining the charging battery. We bounced along the dust track, eager to make up up lost time with a long journey ahead. Not having the required tools to tighten the battery bolts to the car, every bounce, bump and necessary serve lurched my heart back into my mouth in fear of the battery bouncing loose of its connections, rendering us back to square one.

After a brief pause to lift the bonnet and check the battery was ok, we continued on our way and made it 2.5 hours later to the town of Guapiles. We were feeling much better in ourselves, and had started to enjoy the attention from the locals who, for the last half hour, had been running alongside the vehicle, shouting and waving. We’d assumed this was curiosity and waved back, smiling. It was not until we pulled up at the lights in Guapiles that a local shouted to us in English that we had a puncture. I cannot repeat what language I bestowed on our car, but suffice to say it was far from complimentary. We were quite literally now at the end of the road and as far as we could go without switching the engine off. We turned around and made our way back to the many garages lining the road between Guapiles and Cariari, opting, in our haze, to choose one that specialised in tyres and dentistry! Having little option, and enjoying the quirkiness of the situation, we pulled in, dragged out our Daily Mail Spanish Language guide from the glove box and tried to explain our predicament. Within two minutes the car was ramped, and in another 5, the tyre fixed and replaced – all for the bargain price of £1.00. It did make me wonder whether their dentistry was of an equivalent price range and quality and I was almost tempted to try the whitening. Alas, time was of the essence and we’d lost about 4 hours by this point and faced the danger of travelling on mountainous roads in the pitch black – a big no, no. So onwards we pressed…

Into jeopardy i.e right into rush hour in San Jose. 1 hour spent in traffic, going no-where with nothing to do but helplessly watch the sun descend behind the mountainous horizon. We were now approximately 5 hours behind schedule and facing the prospect of driving toward Arenal Volcano in the dead of night.

Escaping the traffic, we eventually headed onto the Pan American highway and put our foot down, eager to make up the miles. This is easier said than done because we faced two new obstacles…..a rapidly emptying petrol tank and locals wandering the roads with no illumination what so ever. I felt like a blind man trying to dodge bullets.  I quickly turned the sat nav’s attention to local petrol stations, all of which seemed to be on the opposite side of an impassable road, or taking us way off track. We therefore settled for one in a local town off Highway 1, which the sat nav said was 1.7k away. This is where and how my respect for sat nav’s ended. It either recognised the day we’d had and wanted to inject some false hope into a futile situation or it downright lied to add fuel to the fire. 40 minutes later, with the engine coughing on sand, we were high in the hills surrounding Highway 1, on roads with perilous turns, severe drops and no signage, facing local drivers who were using the roads as a rally track with no regard for lost, angry and defeated tourists. It was the type of road we’d avoid in the daytime, never mind at 7pm at night. We had little option than to keep going, pulses racing, tears forming and hope sinking to new levels.

We eventually made it into a town and were directed round and round one way systems looking for a petrol station that did not seem to exist. At this point the sat nav proudly announced we’d arrived at our destination – it’d sent us to a bus station!  Dejected and patience at an all time low, we asked the locals for help, and were sent bouncing and stuttering into the next village where, to our immense relief we found a petrol station which was open. We were now at least 6 hours behind schedule and had taken a significant de-tour off track to get to the petrol station.

We did eventually reach our destination late that night, but were many hours later than expected and shattered and weakened from the journey. Thankfully, the owner of the accommodation had waited up for us and would honour our late arrival with a cold beer and soft bed.

It’s a day and a journey we can now look back on and laugh at. We can also learn from it, but will hopefully never have to repeat it!

Additional adventures from our time in Costa Rica are available in our Costa Rican travel blog. We also have an online Costa Rican photo gallery.

Taraji Blue on Location… on safari

Well hello there

I thought I’d take you behind the scenes to give you feel for what it’s like on safari with Taraji Blue. The photos supplied here have not been modified. Instead, they aim to give you a feel for what it is like on safari.

Well, naturally we try and get up close and personal with the animals…but we also need to respect boundaries and consider the safety and comfort of the wildlife – and ourselves!

Getting you up close
A herd passes by
Too close?
Rhino crossing
Well Hello Mr Buff
A picnic spot

After a hard day’s wildlife spotting we find a nice spot for a picnic…

Just Chilling

When the heat of the day hits there is only one thing for it – a nice relax in a shady spot

Tyres are my favourite

In the late afternoon we will head out there again and see what we can see. We’re lucky to find these wee hyenas, which had taken quite a fancy to munching on the tyres of (thankfully) other cars. (not sure how I would explain that to our car rental company otherwise!)

At the end of the day...

And, of course, there is the obligatory sundowner at the end of the day, celebrating the sights we’ve seen in the shadow of the braai.

Photos courtesy of Helen and Stuart Hammond who travelled with us to South Africa, March 2013.

Meet Mr Crotchety Pants…

Mr Crotchety Pants (2)

This is Mr Crotchety Pants, he lives around Lower Sabie in Kruger National Parks and he does not like me one bit! When I say he doesn’t like me – it’s not like he’s taken a slight dislike , he REALLY does not like me – to the extent that he almost ran us off the road. Here’s how I lived to tell the tale…

It was  a lovely afternoon – the sun was beginning to lower and the temperature had become very pleasant. We set out from camp for a game drive and decided to take a nearby loop road to enjoy the last few hours of the day. Barely a few km down the road we saw a HUGE bull elephant standing beside this tree. Due to the low vegetation height we saw him in plenty time and parked a very respectful distance from him to see if he’d walk on. I was the driver that afternoon and really did not want to scare the mother-in-law too much by driving too close (she was in the front passenger seat beside me).

As the elephant started to amble toward the road it became evident that we’d need to wait this out – as there was no way I was going to try and squeeze past him to continue our drive – nor was I too keen on getting any closer. So I popped the engine into neutral and we waited patiently. After about ten minutes we’d started to form quite a queue of traffic behind us and I was worried that, on this single track road, the other drivers might start getting very impatient (unfortunately not many people are that respectful of elephants and will happily drive on quickly by). It was at this exact moment that I recalled how closely packed the row of cars behind us was that the elephant took an immediate dislike to me. He swung to face us head on. Standing in the middle of the dirt track, ears spread wide he raised his trunk towards us. The sense of annoyance was intense. With a very meaningful and not well intentioned gait he started to stomp towards us – throwing out his right front leg to the side as he approached. It became very clear that this was a very unhappy ellie. I had no chose but to start the engine up – something that rattled him even more and he sped up, coming closer every second.   My heart was racing and adrenaline was pumping through my body – I threw the car into reverse gear but had no where to go as the car behind was right up my jacksie. I started to gesticulate to the driver behind – but he seemed oblivious – it was only when he saw the elephant through our front window that he realised that hulk of grey was not bad weather in the sky, but a very angry bull. Regardless, I decided that I could not afford to wait any longer – I was petrified. I started to reverse, figuring that the worst that could happen is that I forcefully push the guy behind me back and have a dented rear-end for the pleasure. Thankfully the driver behind got the message – and he too started to reverse into the guy behind him – it felt like the slowest chain reaction in the world.

After reversing a good distance back we thought that might placate the elephant. It didn’t. We had a glorious couple of minutes to settle our beating hearts before the whole scenario repeated itself… three more time! I desperately wanted to do a three point turn – but the road was so narrow there that I could not afford the time to turn – in seconds he’d be bearing down upon us again. It’s on this day that I became very accomplished at reversing!

After what felt like a very long time, and many grey hairs later, I was afforded a few minutes to turn the car around on a slightly wider piece of road – this allowed all the cars behind to get a good view of Mr Crotchety Pants and caused an immediate reaction – three cars turned on their heels and sped off, dust billowing behind them. I wasted no time in following suit. Mr Crotchety Pants became the undisputed king of the road!

Further trip reports from Africa are available here.
Photos from our trip to Kruger National Park are available in our Taraji Blue online photo gallery.

Mr Crotchety Pants

Photos and places that we have overlooked…

Meandering Path

So focused, were we, on our wildlife photos that we totally omitted to upload some of our favourite landscape shots from when we went to the Western Cape of South Africa last June. Here’s one of my favourites (above), it was taken in Tankwa Karoo National Park, a small but stunning park in which you are free to roam on foot and by car as you please. We had the pleasure of staying in a stunning century old cottage with no electricity. Hot running water was provided only via a donkey boiler – for which you had to build and maintain a fire. The only bath provided was a rusted old bath placed to the side of the cottage in the grand open air, which you filled with boiling water from pans, and then enjoyed the most scenic bath possible (see below). It was, in one word, heaven.

Tankwa is not a hugely popular park, and what little accommodation is available  is very private and spread out, so for the three nights we stayed there we saw just 3 others cars and 2 motorbikes. Only one car drove near the cottage that entire time. However, we did have regular visitors in the form of eagles, antelope and small birds, all who appreciated the wee water hole in front of the cottage.

Tankwa was at it’s best just before sunset – the image taken above was captured about an hour before sunset during the ‘golden hour,’ during which time the sun kissed the mountains and fauna, bathing them in a stunning amber light which was amply reflected against a stunning blue sky. It was an absolute privilege to witness it each night. The image conveys the utter stillness and silence of the place. Even insects quieten at this time of the day. If I lived in South Africa this would be my bolthole – my place to escape too and be reminded of the wonder of the natural world.

Further images from Tankwa Karoo are available in the Taraji Blue South Africa photo gallery. 

cottage Tankwa
Tankwa bath

The merits of a guided safari (Memories of the Maasai Mara Series)

Location: Olare Orok Conservancy, Maasai Mara, KenyaDescription: The dawn of another day in Kenya's Maasai Mara

I’ve been blogging  a lot this year about the merits of a self drive safari, but reflecting on our experiences in the Maasai Mara I realised how wonderful a guided safari can be.  We took this photo hanging out of the back of a vehicle (easier than trying to reverse inches to get the sun perfectly positioned), but without our guide Joseph from +Kicheche Camps we a) wouldn’t have been out so early, b) wouldn’t have found this tree.  Local knowledge is so important in having a great safari experience (so are walkie talkies and Twitter tools like @latestkruger, but I think less useful in tracking the daily movement of trees).

Not every guide will be as accommodating of course, but in my experience each has their own area of interest and value they can add to a safari; well worth it to learn more about an area and to support a local population.

Food for thought?

This post is the 18th and final in the series “Memories of the Maasai Mara” and is an extract from the Taraji Blue book “Memories of the Maasai Mara” …

Ever since our first visit to Kenya in 2005 we’d fallen in love with the continent and had longed to return. For four years we’d played our Africa CDs daily and viewed our photos longingly, anticipating the day we would return. Back in 2009 we had our chance…

Each morning we bounded out of our beds and into the wilderness, eager and hopeful of what the day would bring. We owe much of our success to the fantastic guides and staff of the Kicheche Bush Camp, Mara Safari Club and David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, who we cannot praise enough and to whom we long to return.

It is through our experiences and time in Kenya that we tell, and re-live, our memories of this amazing continent, and above all, of the Maasai Mara.