Seronera, Serengeti. August 2016

It's a little puddle of water in Seronera- Serengeti, downstream from the Yellow Bark Acacia where the Marabu storks gather for their overnight stay. Anyone who's been in Serengeti more than ones can recognize the place even without knowing its real name.
It's a little puddle of water, or so I thought while passing near every single safari in Serengeti. Little did I know about its depth.

In a normal year this time in August I should be guiding in Kenya. But the security situation in Kenya and the travel warning that we have in Israel over it, brought me to Tanzania with an excellent team of Matembezi driver guides and an excellent group of clients from Geographical Tours.

In a normal year this time in August I should be driving along the Mara river, looking for crossings of Gnus and Zebras over the river. Looking for exactly what Serengeti has offered us in one unbelievable morning of safari.  

It's a tricky season in Serengeti. It's very dry and dusty and the big migration of Gnus and Zebras are up north by the Kenyan border or beyond it in Masai Mara. We were almost tempted to go there but we didn't think our group would appreciate the long drive so we stayed in central Serengeti, knowing we shell at least see a lot of cats.
We had already spent quite a long time with a friendly Cheetah early morning and a group of Hippos that were trying hard to keep themselves wet in their poor pool, when we came by this puddle of water and we only stopped to watch the Zebras drinking.

One young Zebra looked as if it was stuck in the mud and in the beginning it looked like the rest of the Zebras with their fear ad excitement pushed it deeper into the mud. But it wasn't mud at all. The real reason jumped out of the water to try and pull the Zebra deeper.

Only when realizing the full size of the Crock did I realized the depth of the water and of what we are about to capture in our cameras. A rare opportunity in did. I had lived for almost 6 years by the most busy crossing point over the Mara River and I had never seen something like this.

 

 

 

 

And then the water was quiet for a while and we started to realize what we had just witnessed.

Every kill I ever saw and defiantly this one, reminds me of something I once read that can explain exactly how it feels to watch the full process.

It was as amazing and horrible as watching a snail crawling on the harp side of the knife.

 

Paddling in the Cold

Sdot Yam, Israel. 15th Jan, 2015

 

 

A storm of over 50 k' wind, over 200 m'm rain in 3 days, ended in one of the coldest days we had ever experienced here in the eastern Mediterranean coast.

In other places in the world this might be considered as a mild whether, not here…..
It was so cold that walking to the beach was feeling like walking on 2 sticks of ice. Not to mention walking back after paddling…..

Yossi w. took my lence (100-400 mm Canon white lence) and did a great job.

Organizing all the equipment back was so so cold, but nothing that 2 birthdays cakes (Steve's and Karel's)  and lot's of alcohol couldn't fix…..

 

Twenty four hours of day light

Senja, Norway. June 2014

Norway was a surprising dream for 10 days continuously. Even the little I knew about it before coming- was still surprising.

As esthetic as a place can be, with crystal clear visibility, perfect colors of nature and towns and very friendly people everywhere we went. I personally never planed to come over here yet here I was…. 2 days in Oslo and 5 days of paddling in the Fjords of Senya Island. Guided by Jeff Allen.

Among Norway's endless surprises was the light. When they tell you that beyond the Arctic Circle the sun never sets during the summer time one would think it's just a saying but you can fully believe it. At about midnight the sun almost touches the water but then it starts rising right back. By 01:30 am, there is soft pleasant light of sunrise again. 24 hours of light. I have died and gone to heaven.

 

As quite an energetic person that always feels like the day is too short, 24 hours of light are a dream and Norway handed me that dream generously. The minute my feet touched Norway's ground, I was filled with unbelievable energy. After all- the length of the day was depended upon energy and only that. As a short time visitor it worked well.

 

And so every night, after day's kayaking, dinner and organizing what was needed for the next day I would set to see more. Very often the only indication for the time of the day would be the quiet villages around or the street light that at some places automatically turned on at times that one might expect dark.

 

 

At the first night after Kayaking I went to look for a good place to photograph the midnight sun above the village Husoy. I didn't find any spot to see beyond the bay but I found that I wasn't the only person who wanted more of that day. And so, every night we would wonder around for more that day.
At that night above the village Husoy, we just went 'for a short one' as Vered put it. We found ourselves in the center of the quiet village at 01:30 am.  Suddenly we heard a whisper coming from the football field. The synthetic grass and the ball were calling us to play. Then the swing and the slide wanted attention at this bright night as well and we politely gave every single one of them what they had asked for. Only after almost waking up the entire village and after pilling off some un needed lairs of clothing we went uphill to a fantastic view point and there we sat on the soft wild grass, spreading the sounds of laughter into the silent night. We have returned to our camp at 02:30am under the full light.

 

 

 

 

 

The next night after paddling, our feet took us for another 'short one' above the village Mefjorvaen. We walked on the soft trails up into the natural amphitheater created by the glaciers.  In these places you never find yourself walking on bare ground. Everything is covered by a soft green blanket of ferns and wild berries and it is very soft under your feet. Under us was the big bay to which we were to paddle the next day, we could hear the sound of the ripples playing on the beach. Above us was the great sound of snow melting into the alpine lakes. And the sound of Jeff's flut added to that perfect harmony and walked us through the labyrinth of alpine lakes. Vered's 'short one' turned into a another beautiful sleepless night.   

The third night some of us were just too tired. Only Dror and I climed up above the sleeping village of Skalant above the clouds and the beautiful islands of that area. 'Senya's Caribbean' they call it and in the sunrise light at 01:30am, the color of the beaches below us can turn in the reason for the name. The road up is quite wet with water running from the patches of snow. As we look down, the view is closing up and thin fog is covering the mountains around us.
'Zohar Habla' (Zohar my big sister in Turkish) I suddenly hear Mehemet's voice coming from the fog.
'You do remember not to play with the fog!'
Mehmet is my dearest Turkish 'brother' and in the past 1.5 years he has been recovering from a terrible climbing accident.  Well use to guide trekking trips up the Turkish Kackar mountains together and he had taught me basically how to guide these trips. Not fooling around with the fog was the 'mountain's law' that I remembered well and I told that to Mehmet but I also said it's not such a thick one.
'A fog is a fog' he replied and I did as much as I could to hide the conversation from Dror so he will not catch me talking to myself. As the view started to clear up and the Islands below us were clear, I saw Mehmet's worry clearing up as well.
We went down into the silent village quite late that night and left to ourselves very little sleeping hours.

 

 

We spent many hours exploring Senja from the Kayaks during the day time and walking during night time. In the last night on the Island we went for the last walk with Jeff. We didn't want to wet our shoes so we walked on the road. Jeff remembered a tunal leading to the Devel's Jalws, a beautiful mountain ridge that we paddled around. And a view point over that area. And he remembered well and all was in did there, but not as close as he remembered and we had quite a long and wonderful walk together.

 

The next day we paddled our last day in the beauty of Senja and sooner then we wished we were walking in the town Tromso, and much sooner then we wished we found ourselves waiking up after a dark night, and went to paddle in our normal medeteranien paddling environment. 

 

The Flute Player

Senja, Norway. June 2014

Carrying a native American flute, Brazilian coffee, a wooden cup and a knife of the sami people and a heavy south west English accent, Jeff Allen paddled his way in an Aleutian Iqyax (Baidarka), self built, he had paddled all of the Norwegian Coastline from Southern Sweden to Nordkap in the far North.

I know Jeff from various symposiums in Israel and love the way he teaches. But it was an amazing experience to be on a tour in Norway with him after he had already paddled this area for 4 years.

During the day we were following Jeff, paddling through the wonderful Fijords of Senja. discovering the wonders of Senja's landscape and weather.

Every break the soft music played by Jeff was somehow there.

During the nights, having day light 24 hours, a small group of us went to explore more, hiking up the wonderful mountains of Senja, looking at things from another perspective.

One of the nights, walking  between the alpine lakes about Mefjordvaer village, Jeff was walking to his quiet corners, while we were running on small wooden path ways, from lake to lake, from one amazing valley to another. And every time we thought he must be far, we would hear the flute again. Like magical strings were coming out of Jeff's music, bonding us in a unique experience in such a special place. When I would finally go to sleep for 2 hours I would hear the flute in my mind.

 In my life I had teachers of many kinds. Some were teaching far beyond what they came to teach. Jeff has definitely caught that place.

I have learned much from Jeff paddling wise during the years I had joined his lessons, but a week like this opens up a possibility to learn more then paddling. As a guide myself, much of the lessons were carried on to support me in my everyday work and every now and then, when the group around me had gone to sleep and the world is quiet, I can hear Jeff's soft flute playing circling the world from ocean to ocean, climbing new peaks and traveling through the clouds above them, leaving a hint of taste from that unique experience.  

 

Thank you Jeff for a wonderful experience, thank you vered for a brilliant photo


 

Kaçkar's Mehmet

Places I have simply visited have mostly left very little with me and I left very little if anything, behind.

Places I stayed in, working, living, being, are places that become a big part of my life. It is as if a magical string is tying me to the place, making a bond. When I try to see what these strings are made of, I see special moments, memories that leave a warm feeling, and mainly I see people.

Kaçkar has taken a big place in my life and heart for some years, and Kaçkar has always been Mehmet for me. A wild energetic mountain boy, with dark eyes and a warm smile

When Mehmet hikes up the mountains, it's as if his feet do not touch the ground. He and the mountain peaks are involved in a wild dance which, sometimes, other people are invited to join.
When Mehmet talks with people, it's as if he wraps the world with soft singing, and when he walks the streets of his childhood, the kids look at him in admiration, all wishing to be like him, and the elders look at him with pride. The next generation that will always treasure culture and old traditions

Did he ever know how the world sees him?

In the beginning of January, Mehmet was buried under a huge rock while working on one of the new roads in Kaçkar. It took 2 hours to rescue him from under the rock. It took another 6 to get him to hospital. Mehmet went to sleep, and his family along with the Çamlıhemşin community stopped breathing and started to pray

A week passed.
A month.
To mark 2 months, family and friends gathered in the harsh winter on the Firtina bridge, carrying signs wishing for Mehmet's recovery.
To mark 3 months Mehmet opened his dark eyes and looked at the world through a heavy fog. But it's Mehmet. He could find his way through any fog, sometimes helping others who couldn't handle it. We should trust him that he will navigate his way through this fog, even if it seems to be a tricky one

Almost 5 month after the accident I visited Gergeti church in Georgia, under the white peak of Kazbeki on my way to Turkey to visit him at the hospital. A big Georgian family entered the church and gathered to sing their prayers. Georgian singing is known for its many voices and wonderful harmony and their beautiful singing was carried to the peak of Kazbeki, to the clouds and to the one sitting above

.I found myself praying with them
A Jewish girl, in a church, praying for the recovery of a Muslim friend
Photos of Mehmet were running in my mind, jumping from stone to stone like a wild goat, singing the great song of life with a big smile on his face.
If there is a god, I thought, then these great mountain people are now singing for the return of one of their own. Their voices are touching the strings of his decisions and if there is a god then he will have to listen

Walking Speed

Simien, Ethiopia. October 2012

Simien mountains is a large mountain ridge, sitting on the northern part of Ethiopia. For generations, this mountain ridge was protecting  the only non colonized country in Africa. It is a beautiful place for tracking, with wonderful  scenery and very wild nature. Simien has been a great attraction for walking safaris for years now, but even when you come to northern Ethiopia to visit the historical sites, without any wishes for too much walking, it is a well worth place to visit.

When we bring groups to Simien we take them for short walks, escorted by an armed ranger and a local guide.
I find that when guiding people on walks, I sometimes need to save them from themselves. Many times it's luck of experience, others will be too competitive, but the majority of people that I have guided walk "ahead of themselves", walking much too fast for their abilities. It becomes everyone's problem on high altitude.

During the last trip in Simian, we had a young energetic local guide named Yonas. We were already 2 guides in this trip, myself and Binyam, a great Ethiopian guide, but entering Simien you must have another guide.
Yonas was great, he was very informative and very helpful, but he was also very young, fit and energetic. Few of the people in the group could very well be his grandparents, but as much as I tried to slow him down, he was walking too fast and I saw that too many people are trying to kip up and will finish their strength too fast for the length of walk we were planning.
Binyam was trying to slow him down by telling him, then by walking near him, but nothing helped. Yonas was just too fast.
I then asked Binyam to help the people on the back and walked behind Yonas to be the one that set the pace. After several minutes of quiet walking Yonas turned to ask if I was trying to slow him down.

"Not you, but the clients, you are much too fit for them", I answered.

"By the way", said Yonas, the way he liked to begin ever sentence.
"This is my top maximum slow speed"…..  

Talking About Weather in Israel

Sdot Yam, Israel. October 2012Israel is quite a dry country. If you hear people talking about weather issues, it's normally about the luck of rain, the heat during July- August and humidity.
At Optimist Kayaking club, weather conversations are quite common as wind and high waves might be a problem. But once a year the weather is the thing we fear the most.

Every year at about November there is an annual Kayaking Symposium. Guides arrive from various places in the world to teach and kayakers gather to learn as much as they can. Long days in the water, a good chance to improve skills and great energy all around. Bad weather might become a major hassle in a week like that. 
One  would like to have wind on the wind classes, but not too much wind.
One would like no wind for the Greenland rolls classes.
For rescue classes, energetic sea is great.
But no one would like to have rain.

This year the Symposium had perfect weather. The water are about 26 degrees, the sun was there, but not too strong, the wind was there for a short visit, we felt ourselves lucky.
Not a day after the Symposium has ended an impressive thunder storm came for a visit and liked it enough to stick around. It was advertising strong rain for days and finally all hell broke loose on Thursday evening.

Friday morning paddling looked like a group of kids were sent to play in the rain. We were waiting to see what happens with the wind and stood by the sea. It was raining so badly that we run to the warm water to wait and finally boarded our kayaks and went out. The colors were changing by the minute. It was like paddling in a painting.

We felt ourselves lucky once again, to be out in weather like this. And for not having this a week ago…